consequence, the stars faded in the sky, and the rosy morn broke through the eastern mists, ere the weary man, from the summit of a high hill, which he had tortuously ascended, beheld afar off, down in the valley, the shining river, the bridge, and the church-tower of the town where his friend, in some anxiety, awaited his re-appearance.

bridge just beyond, over which the route conducted to the Hall through avenues of greenerie, was festooned with roses; and a band of maidens in white, lined the picturesque approach. The sun was setting, when a carriage drove quickly up, slackening its pace as it crossed the bridge, and stopping at Mr. Canute's humble gate. Two Words himself, bareheaded, stepped forward on seeing a lady alight, who in another moment threw herself into his arms, exclaiming : "Our first greeting must be from you, dear, dear Mr. Canute! I need not introduce Mr. Selby

During all his after-life, that young man never forgot the solitary night-walk when he lost his way beneath a beautiful spangled summer sky; the stars seemed to form the letters, "And then?" the soft night-breeze seemed to whisper-he is known to you already." Speechless in his ear: "And then?"

from astonishment and emotion, the old man It is true, he had not gained the intelligence could only say: "Miss Clara!"—as he gazed he sought respecting the inmates of Ambermead from one to another, recognizing in the gentleHall; but he had laid bare his own folly for the man the wayfaring guest who had departed so inspection of Mr. Canute; and in return, he had abruptly on his walking expedition over the listened to no reproof-no tiresome lecture vouch-moonlight hills, more than three years previoussafed from prosy age to ardent youth, but simply ly. Seizing the hand which Mr. Canute silently two words had penetrated his heart, and set extended, Mr. Selby said, with deep feeling: him a-thinking seriously. Mystic little words! "And then?"

seen no more.

"It is to your instrumentality that I owe my present happiness."

"How so?" was Mr. Canute's reply, looking with pleased surprise into the open face, which, on a former occasion had won his confidence and admiration.

For nearly three years after Mr. Harwell's decease, the old Hall, contrary to general anticipation, remained untenanted, save by domestics left in charge. Miss Clara had found shelter with her relative, Lady Ponsonby, though her memory was still fresh and warmly cherished among the humble friends in her beautiful native village. Mr. Canute, if possible, more silent than ever, still remained the village oracle; perhaps more cherished than of yore, inasmuch as he was the only memento remaining of the beloved Harwells-the old familiar faces now He would listen, and they would talk, of days gone by; he felt the loss even more than others, for he mourned a companion and friend in Mr. Harwell, and Clara had been to the good Two Words as an adopted daughter. At length it was rumored that Mr. Selby, the new proprietor, was soon expected to take possession of his property in due form; moreover, that he was on the point of marriage, and that his bride would accompany him. Ill reports fly quickly; and it had been circulated in former times that Mr. Selby was wild and extravagant, careless of others, selfish and profli-worthy successor of the ancient race! gate. Indeed, Mr. Canute had not contradicted such reports, so it was generally opined they were too true, and had a legal foundation. With heavy hearts, the inhabitants of Ambermead commenced their rural preparations for the reception of the squire and his bride; green arches were erected, and wreaths of flowers were hung on the spreading branches beneath which the travelers' road lay. It was the season of roses and nightingales, when Ambermead was in its glory; and never had the rich red roses bloomed so profusely, and never had the chorus of the groves been more full and enchanting, than on the summer evening when the old and young of the hamlet, arrayed in their holiday attire, waited to greet the new-comers.

"Two words spoken in season wrought a change in me, which all the preaching of friends and guardians had failed to effect," returned Mr. Selby, "and without which Clara never would have blessed me with her hand. These years of probation have proved my sincerity; and Lady Ponsonby (a severe and scrutinizing judge) pronounced my reformation complete ere she permitted me to address Clara. Those two little words, ' And then?' enigmatical to the uninitiated, convey a deep and mystical meaning to my heart; and they are of such significant import, that by inserting them whenever I paint the future, I trust to become a wiser and a better man."

Clara gazed proudly and confidingly on her husband; and the news of her arrival having spread through the village, a crowd collected, whose joy and surprise found vent in tears and blessings, to say nothing of numerous asides, purporting that Miss Clara never would have espoused a bad man; ergo, Mr. Selby must be a

young

The prognostication proved correct; and the pathway, strewn with bright summer roses, over which Clara trod in bridal pomp on her way to the ancestral home where she was born, was indeed emblematical of the flowery path which marked her future destiny.

The old Hall of Ambermead is still extanta fine specimen of venerable decay, surrounded by ancestral groves, still famed for sheltering innumerable nightingales when the Ambermead roses exhale their delicious fragrance. In the old church-yard on the green hill-side, a white monument gleams in the sunshine, whereon may be traced the name of John Canute, specifying the date of his happy death, while below is engraven this inscription of two words-" And

Mr. Canute stood at his cottage-door; the then?"

784

HOW EIDER DOWN IS GATHERED.

THE

The ease and facility, however, with which the plundering of these nests is effected, are remark

by the great kindness with which the natives HE rocks and sea-coasts of Norway, the rug-treat them; so great, indeed, that in Iceland they ged steeps and barren precipices of the have been almost rendered tame, and will often Shetland, Orkney, and Faroe Islands, and the build their nests close to the houses. Their quiet wild scenery of the Hebrides, are the abodes of and peaceable dispositions are also manifested by numerous tribes of aquatic birds, as puffins, her- the circumstance, that two females will sometimes The simple lay their eggs in the same nest, in which case they ons, cormorants, and eider fowl. inhabitants of some of these secluded spots de- always agree remarkably well. pend in a great measure upon these creatures for their food and clothing. The flesh of some is eaten when fresh, and some is salted for keep-ably contrasted with the extreme danger to which ing: the eggs are esteemed excellent food, though much too strong in their taste to be relished by persons unaccustomed to such delicacies; the skins of the eider-ducks form under-clothing, which is proof against very severe cold; and, without any very material injury to the birds, a vast quantity of the finest down is collected from them annually. This invaluable substance is so firm and elastic, that a quantity which, when compressed, might be covered by the two hands, will serve to stuff a quilt or coverlet, which, together with extreme lightness, possesses more warmth than the finest blanket. The importance of such a defense in the inhospitable climate of these exposed regions, may be well imagined. Accordingly, one of the chief employments of the inhabitants, is the collection of these indispensable articles; an occupation, in the pursuit of which the adventurous fowlers are often exposed to dangers, the bare idea of which would seem enough to deter the most courageous from the attempt, had not long practice rendered them al-ers. Its sides are extremely precipitous, its dismost insensible to fear. We shall give a short account of the method pursued on these occa

sions.

the same occupation is exposed in other parts. The most precipitous and inaccessible rocks are often the chosen abodes of these winged creatures, where they remain in apparent security, seemingly far removed from man's rapacious hand. But who shall say what difficulties are so great, that patience and courage may not overcome them? The bold adventurer, inured to toil, with sinews well strung by constant labor, and animated by a spirit of dauntless courage, climbs the most rugged steep, surveys with coolness the most frightful precipices, and trusting himself to ledges of rock scarcely large enough for the foot to rest on, loads himself with the hard-earned spoil, and returns to the bottom with as much indifference as ordinary men would descend a ladder.

The Holm of Noss, a vast rock separated by some violent convulsion of nature from the island of the same name-one of the Shetland grouppresents remarkable difficulties to the bird-catch

tance from the mainland is about sixteen fathoms,
and the gulf between is occupied by a raging sea
-yet have all these been overcome. A kind of
bridge of ropes is thrown across, by which the
fowler, seated in a cradle, is drawn over, and
commences his operations. The original forma-
tion of this bridge, if such it may be called, is
The rock had been long
somewhat remarkable.
inaccessible, when at last an adventurer, bolder
or more skillful than the rest, having landed at
the base, contrived to scramble his way to the
summit, after encountering incredible difficulties;
his companions threw across to him a strong
rope, which he made fast to several stakes pre-
viously driven firmly into the ground, and the
same was done by them on the opposite side; to

On the coast of Norway, there are many low and flat islands, upon which the birds, during their breeding season, lay their eggs in great abundance: these the fowler approaches in his boat; leaving it moored to the rocks, he quietly examines the nests, which are made on the ground, constructed of sea-weeds, and lined with the finest down, which the female plucks from her own body. The eggs are generally four in number, of a pale-green color, and somewhat longer than a common duck's egg. With great caution and gentleness, the fowler removes the female from the nest, and takes possession of the superfluous down and eggs, being careful, how-this a basket or cradle was then attached, which, ever, to leave one behind, lest the nest should be deserted. The patient bird endures this robbery with the greatest resignation, and immediately commences the reparation of her loss, by laying more eggs, and covering them with fresh down, in which latter office her faithful mate bears a part, and yields up his own plumage for the defense of their yet unhatched progeny. This operation is often repeated more than once upon the same nest. It is asserted that, although the birds will bear quietly this treatment from the hands of those to whom they are accustomed, the appearance of a stranger is by no means acceptable, and that they testify their displeasure at the work of destruction by loud and fearful screams. This singular fact may perhaps be accounted for

by means of cords fastened at either end, might be drawn backward or forward. The end of the story is truly tragical. Emboldened by his success, instead of returning by the means of conveyance he had thus provided, the unfortunate man determined to descend the rock where he had come up; but the task was too difficult even for his practiced foot: one false step, and all was over; his mangled body at the foot of the rock too plainly attested the madness of the attempt.

But not always can even these means be had recourse to; it is often necessary to descend from the cloud-capped summit down the face of The reckless daring the naked precipice, to seek for nests hidden in the fissures of the stone. exhibited by the islanders on these occasions, has

feathers of a solan-goose. The same writer witnessed the extraordinary feats of a bird-catcher, who, while supported by one companion alone, with whom he was conversing carelessly, contrived to catch four birds, and, burdened with two in each hand, still held fast by the rope, and striking his foot against the rock, threw himself out from the precipice, and returning with a bound, would again dart out, capering and shout

consider that one false step of the man above, one momentary yielding of his strength, would inevitably prove fatal to both, we can not but feel the greatest astonishment at their presence of mind. Accidents, however, though extremely rare, do sometimes occur, and those of the most frightful nature, of which the following may serve as an example:

It is by no means uncommon for fowlers to proceed alone on these excursions: on such occasions they fasten the rope to a stake driven into the ground above, and thus descend. It was upon one of these solitary expeditions that the following occurred: A bird-catcher left his home one morning to pursue his usual occupation, but alone; having secured his rope to the summit of the cliff, he let himself gradually down, and reaching the spot where the rock

called forth the admiration and wonder of all who have had an opportunity of witnessing them. We subjoin the account given by Sir G. Mackenzie, of the method which the inhabitants of the Faroe Islands pursue in their search for puffins. "When the rocks are so high and smooth as to render it impossible for the fowlers to ascend, they are let down by means of a rope from above. To prevent the rope from being cut, a piece of wood is placed at the verge of the pre-ing, and playing all manner of tricks. When we cipice. By means of a small line, the fowler makes signals to those above, and they let him down or pull him up accordingly. When he reaches a shelf of the rock where the birds have their nest, he unties himself, and proceeds to take them. Sometimes he places himself on a projecting rock, and, using his net with great adroitness, he catches the birds as they fly past him-and this they call veining. This mode of catching birds is even practiced while the fowlers are suspended. When a projection of rock is between the fowler and the place where the birds are, he swings himself from the rock so far that he turns round the projection. In this, great address and courage are requisite, as well as in swinging into a cavern. When he can not, with the help of his pole, swing far enough, he lets down a line to people stationed in a boat below, who swing him by means of it as far as is neces-overhung a ledge, on which he expected to reap sary to enable him to gain a safe place to stand upon. Besides being exposed to the risk of the rope breaking, the fowler is frequently in danger of being crushed by pieces of the rock falling down upon him." The same method is pursued in the other islands. The ropes employed are of two sorts-one made of hides, the other of hair of cows' tails the former are most esteemed; they have the advantage of ancient usage to re-reach, at length settled many feet from the spot commend them, and they are, besides, less liable where he stood. For a moment he stood aghast, to be worn away by the sharp edges of the rock. uncertain how to act; the sudden blow almost The mode of constructing them is as follows:- deprived him of the power of thinking; graduA hide of a sheep and one of a cow are cut into ally, however, he recovered the use of his faculslips, the latter being the broader; each slip of ties, and looked anxiously around for means of sheeps' hide is then plaited to one of cows', and escape. Fearful, in truth, was the prospect: the two of these compound slips are then twisted to heavy mass of rock above, smooth as if chiseled gether, so as to form a rope of about three inches by the mason's hand, offered no crevices to which in circumference. The length of these ropes the most tenacious grasp might cling: many hunvaries from 90 to about 200 feet, and they are sold dred feet below, the raging waters burst with terat thirteen pence a fathom. So highly are they rific noise upon the pointed crags; while the valued, that, at St. Kilda, a single rope forms a depth to which he had descended, the solitude of girl's marriage-portion. In this island, the most the spot, and the roar of the tumultuous waters, westerly of the Hebrides, a mere speck of land in altogether precluded the possibility of making the wide waters of the Atlantic, old and young himself heard, and summoning assistance to resalike engage in the same hazardous pursuit. Ac- cue him from his dreadful situation. One chance customed from infancy to creep to the extremest alone remained, and that a desperate one: by a verge of the precipice, dangers which, to the un- bold leap he might regain the rope-it was an practiced, appear most appalling, only serve to awful hazard; if he failed, instant destruction afford them amusement. A modern traveler in- must be the result; but death, though slower in forms us that he has seen very young children his present state, was no less sure: his resolucreep over the edge of a tremendous cliff, 1300 tion was taken; breathing a short and energetic feet high, formed by the termination of Conachar, prayer, he summoned all his strength, and fearthe loftiest eminence in the island, and consider-lessly sprung forward. He lived to tell the tale, ed to be the highest precipice in Britain, and for the rope was caught, and the summit gained coolly collecting the eggs or birds by means of a in safety. slender pole like a fishing-rod, furnished at the end with a noose of cow hair, stiffened by the

an ample harvest, he dexterously swung himself forward, and gained the resting-place. As he expected, he here found a number of nests, and, in his ardor, forgetting the usual precaution of fastening the rope round his body while in the act of plundering a nest, the cord slipped from his grasp, and after swinging backward and forward for some time, but without coming within

Such are the usual methods pursued for capturing birds when they build near the summit of

the highest rocks, and such the dangers to which | of some sign of life. Who may describe the the attempt is exposed. But similar risks are pleasure that thrilled through his bosom, as run in taking those which have their haunts be- first he distinctly recognized the form of a comlow. For this purpose, the expedition sets out panion! The sight gave new vigor to his frame: in a boat, and having landed at the spot selected he summoned all his strength, and uttered a loud for their operations, one of the most daring of cry for help. His call was heard, and no time their number fastens a rope round his waist, and was lost in relieving him from his dreadful situtaking in his hand a long pole, furnished with an ation. iron hook at one end, either climbs up the rock, We who have been brought up in comparative or is thrust upward by his companions, until he ease and luxury, can scarcely picture to ourselves can find a resting-place sufficiently large for their a more wretched lot than that of these poor islpurpose. Having reached this spot, he lowers anders, compelled to undergo such toils, and exthe rope, and hauls up one of the boat's crew; pose themselves to so great dangers, for acquir the others are then raised in the same manner; ing the mere necessaries of life; yet they are a and this process of climbing and hauling is re- | happy race of men, and would be loth to expeated as often as necessary, until they reach change this kind of existence, with all its exthe spots most frequented by the birds. The citement and pleasures, for the more quiet lives fowlers then separate, and distribute themselves and less spirit-stirring employments of the inover the face of the rock, acting, however, for habitants of cities. the most part in pairs, each being provided with a rope and fowling-staff. For the sake of mutual security, two frequently connect themselves together by their ropes, and whenever the nests are below the ledges on which they stand, one permits himself to be lowered down by the other, until he can reach them. In this laborious occupation they often spend many days together, throwing the booty they have collected into the boats below, and spending the nights in the crevices of the rocks, being at the same time not unfrequently ill supplied with provisions.

Another plan sometimes adopted in these islands, is that of setting gins or nooses over night, in places most frequented by the birds; these are examined next morning, and often afford a large supply. It was upon one of these occasions that the following occurred: A bird-catcher of St. Kilda had been fixing some traps upon a ledge, elevated about 150 feet above the level of the sea, and was moving forward for the purpose of regaining his rope, when, unfortunately, his foot caught in one of the nooses, and before he was aware of the fact, tripped himself, and fell over the edge of the precipice. There he hung, suspended by one leg, and with a full view of the boiling surf below him. In vain he wrenched his body round, and strove to grasp the edge from which he had fallen; all his exertions were to no purpose; the bare stone afforded nothing to his grasp, and his strength became rapidly exhausted. He shouted and screamed till the rocks reechoed with his clamor, but none was at hand to lend him succor; the shades of night were fast closing in, and he was obliged to resign himself patiently to his fate, hoping that the morning might bring some assistance. In this perilous situation he passed the live-long night. Pierced with cold, suffering the severest agony, the weight of his whole body being supported by one limb alone, and momentarily expecting the noose to give way and precipitate him headlong into the angry waters, it seemed as if the hours would never end. But morning came at last, and, as surrounding objects gradually emerged from the darkness which had concealed them, his eyes wandered anxiously around in search

A LONDON CURATE'S STORY.

JUST

UST now a young man, a parishioner of mine, has called in to relieve the fullness of his heart, by pouring out his feelings to me. The few obstacles which stood between him and the girl he loves, have been removed, and in the elation of his joy, he is ready to call upon heaven and earth to rejoice with him.

Well, I have heard him out. I have listened for more than an hour to the expression of his lover's raptures, of his fears which are past, and of his hopes and expectations which are on the eve of realization. I have given him smile for smile, sympathy for every word, and hearty congratulation for each distinct item of his communication. Now I have seen him to my door, and as I come back to my dingy study, it strikes me as looking more cheerless and chill than usual.

There lies my half-written sermon on the desk, but I seem to have lost the spirit and earnestness with which I commenced it. The din of the noisy streets, to which habit has accustomed my ear, is suddenly become unbearable. How is it that now I notice that my little fire burns with such a dead and sluggish aspectthat the weather is so heavy and oppressivethat there is such a sombreness and disheartening influence in every thing around me?

Let the truth be spoken, I have never told my secret to any man; nor would I now to the dearest friend I have, and in the closest hour of mutual confidence, break the sad, deep silence of the last twenty years. But young Luke Hamilton, with his eager story, coming to the gray-haired curate, has done him an evil he little suspects. He has broken the seal of the fountains locked so long! passion and feeling kept under during nearly half my lifetime, stir into rebellion beneath the resolute foot that has held them down; a smouldering agony has striven into flame again!

What I would not tell my friend I will tell the public; to its wide, impalpable ear I will pour out my heart. I can not go about my work with this weight upon my soul, with this secret which is burning inwardly, unspoken. There is some

Looking back upon my early childhood, it seems as vague and distant as though it had been some prior state of being. I have a re-filled up with vague notions of self-denial, enmembrance of a fair, laughing boy in petticoats, standing on a chair by a window that looked down upon the leafy tops of orchard-trees, while a soft maternal hand combed out the long flaxen curls that were the crown of his infantile beauty. I remember the same boy, shouting and romping with a grave but tender playfellow, in green meadow fields; and the impression is strong upon me of the awed, earnest feeling, with which he sat by his mother's side in the low-roofed church with the leaves whispering against the window- panes, and heard that same playfellow's voice reading with so penetrating a solemnity the accustomed prayers, or raised to fervor beneath the impassioned suasion of his sermon eloquence.