end, they exhibit strange internal changes. Sometimes a spiral column is seen at one period; then a series of rings at another; and at a third, the spiral seems broken up into bars, as represented in figure one. The tissue, which an arrangement of such cells will produce, is called Fibro-cellular tissue. Then again, these elastic little bodies quietly accommodate themselves to every condition of their mysterious existence. By pressure, they assume various forms. Now, you will find them collected together in bundles, as in the sea-weeds (alga) and mushrooms (fungi); then in hexagonal boxes, as in figure two; now in

the structure is called pitted or dotted tissue. How these vesicles grow, is not known. And all that the microscope is able to do for us here is, to show where the point of increase begins, and where it ends. At the upper and lower apex, that peculiar development takes place, which, after a short time, sends forth the central rod or stem of the plant. Helpless as these minute vesicles appear to be, they labour with a rapidity that far outstrips even our modern mechanical skill-nay, far transcends every description of increase, yet known to us. One distinguished writer records that, in one species of puff-ball (the bovista gigantea), cells multiply at the rate of 66,000,000 a minute! Can our young friends calculate this unwieldy round number? If they can, then we give them up, and confess that, all the other wonders of the vegetable world, which the writer of this paper intends to reveal to them, will fail to excite a thrill of surprise.

3. As the cell becomes old, deposits of various substances take place. In its first stage, a kind of vegetable mucus (Protoplasm) is found in the interior. By some, this mucus is considered the earliest appearance of the tissue of a plant. Starch, Chlorophyll, (the substance which give the green colour to leaves), wax, resin, oil, camphor, and endless other secretions, originate, or are perfected, in these cells. In many plants, a large number of strange, needle-like bodies, called Raphides* (Greek for needles), crowd these little chambers. They occur in Turkey Rhubarb,

to the amount of some 30 per cent. These remark. able bodies are usually composed either of an oxalate, a sulphate, or of a carbonate of lime. In numerous plants, (some say in all), a remarkable rotatory movement of the fluids in individual cells, is distinctly visible. In that weird-like plant, the Chara of our marshes, this kind of circulation is clearly seen. The movement is spiral, and is observed passing, obliquely, up one side, and down the other. One truly wonderful feature in this vital action, in the cells is, that the circulation appears to be confined entirely to each cell, and may be watched, for several days, in detached individuals, held under water, and closely inspected by the aid of a good microscope.

VASCULAR TISSUE.

4.-Vascular, or woody tissue, is made up of tubes, drawn out in the form of a spindle (Fusiform), tapering at each end. Vascular is distinguished from cellular tissue, by being cylindrical, long, and tough. It has been well called a "rib" (pleurenchyma pleura, a rib), for it gives strength and firmness to the stems and leaves. The woody portions of trees, shrubs, and most flowering plants, are composed of this sort of tissue. It contributes many most valuable products to the commercial world. We have, for example, the flax, hemp, China-grass, jute, bast, &c.* From its fibres, linen, ropes, cordage, mats, certain kinds of Indian muslin, and paper, are manufactured. By placing under the microscope portions of the woody-tissue found in linen, and the cellular tissue in cotton, any one may gratify his curiosity with a sight of the characteristic features of these two great structural substances. A peculiar form of woody fibre is found in the stems of resinous woods, such as the pine and fir tribe. The diameter of its tubes is greater than in that of any other woody tissue; and, because no other kind of vessel has yet been found in these trees, they alone appear to perform the office of carrying the sap upwards through the stem. A curious set of dots is visible along the course of these tubes, and seem to be formed, by the adhesion of some minute bodies, to their interior. What may be their true nature, we cannot tell; but they have served a most important purpose in helping to establish the true character of coal. This glandular appearance,

as it is called, and which is peculiar to resinous woods, may be witnessed by any person who will take the trouble to place, under the microscope, a prepared specimen of common coal. The spiral vessel, with all its various modifications, is another marked feature of vascular tissue. Its essential character is the possession of a spiral fibre, coiling within its thin membranous tubes, from one extremity to the other. Figure five, affords a good illustration of this spiral

FIG. 5.

arrangement. The example is taken from the melon, and exhibits the elastic fibres uncoiled, and the vessels partly overlapping at their extremities. If our youthful students choose to examine this kind of tissue, and this interesting spiral, let them take a stem of the common Asparagus; soften it by boiling, or by soaking in water, and then, with their fingers, carefully detach it from the soft tissue in which it is found. Having separated the bundles, by means of small needles, take an individual spiral, place it under a good glass, and the beautiful structure, just mentioned, will become distinctly visible.

*In a future paper will be given, a concise account of the most useful fibrous plants, both home and foreign.

5.-There are various modifications of the spiral vessel. We can only name them, and must advise our readers to resort to such works as Carpenter's Physiology" and "Balfour's Botany," for a detailed history of this elementary department of our subject. When the tubes are found in rings, the fibre is called annular (annulus, a ring). These rings, in the cactus tribe, are very large, and distend the membranous walls, enormously. When the fibre is broken up into lines, like the steps of a ladder, it is called scalariform (scala, a ladder). Those vessels which appear to interlace with, or to branch into each other, are designated lacticiferous, from a word (lacter), describing the milky fluid which flows through them. From this milky juice, in different plants, many useful articles of commerce are procured. India-rubber and Gutta-percha are notable examples. The dandelion, spurge, lettuce, and celandine, will help our young friends to illustrations on this point. And let them know, that on the question of the nature and office of this milky substance, much doubt still rests; and there is, therefore, abundance of room left for personal distinction. Who will dare to assert that, from our numerous band of juvenile botanists, some thoughtful student may not arise and become the discoverer of a new and wonderful law?

6. In a future chapter we shall describe the combinations which these tissues exhibit, in stem, leaf, and flower. Meanwhile, let our readers try an experiment for themselves. Let them take, for instance, a leaf of the garden Iris, (fleur-de-lis) or one of London pride, and, stripping the skin (cuticle), from the under side of the latter, soak it in water for a few days; then, separating the cellular tissue, and placing their specimen under a tolerably powerful magnify. ing-glass, the wonders we have only been hinting at will, at once, be revealed to their admiring sight. By this means they may test, and, if they choose, correct our statements, and thus become practical physiologists. At all events, they will add vastly to their own pleasure, and greatly increase their love for a study, surrounded with charms, which the skill of artist and printer can but faintly portray.

We have to ask our young friends, when sending us plants for classifying, to see that good and perfect specimens are forwarded. In some instances the merest scrap has been sent. Now, in many cases, it is all but impossible to give the species, unless the distinctive characters are before us. When the plant is small, let them, if practicable, forward it in toto-root, stem, leaves, and flower. Of all the larger kinds, the flower, with its stalk, and a few of the root leaves, where they differ from those of the stem, will be sufficient. We cordially invite all our young friends to become collectors, and again offer them our services in naming and classifying every plant they may find. To facilitate the process of labelling, they are further requested to attach a small piece of writing paper to each specimen.

Alcohol.

HIGH on the rocky road to fame I stood,

In principle and purpose strong,* as towers,
In giant strength, the monarch of the wood,
Unconquered by the elemental powers

Of tempest, rain, and thunder; and the showers,
Distilled in envy's reservoir of gall,
Fell harmlessly upon me, while the hours,
Calm and delightful, sailed along, and all

The genial sweets of life around me seemed to fall.

Clear as a streamlet through the velvet grass

Th' unchequered current of my life flowed on; All nature seemed reflected in the glass

Of love unbounded-all on which the sunGreat pledge of Heaven's goodness-daily shone,

Justum et tenacem propositi virum,-HOR.

To me was pleasant. Even toil appeared Painless, for when my daily task was done,

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A more intense delight was my reward, In all those harmless joys vouchsafed by nature's Lord.

Heavens, what a change!* How dismal, dark, and cold
Seem all things now of ocean, earth, and sky!
The Devil saw me happy, as of old

He viewed the man of Uz with envious eye,
And the old serpent, cautious, sleek, and sly,
Crawling on slowly round my senses stole,
Still unsuspected, ever hovering nigh,

Until he bound my body and my soul In thy destructive web, accursed Alcohol.

The cayman, tiger, the hyæna, shark,
The cabra-de-capella, upas tree;

The panther, the simoon, all monsters dark,
That roam the wilds of land or depths of sea,
Are harmless in comparison with thee,

Infernal soul-destroyer! for their grasp
Or poisoned fangs instinctively we flee;

Thee to our breasts with frantic joy we clasp, As whilom Egypt's queen embraced the deadly asp.

Sweet to the taste and pleasant to the view,
By what seductive arts dost thou decoy,
And tangle in thy web the human crew-
The old-the middle-aged-the thoughtless boy,
Who fondles thee, as children hug a toy,

And, spurning friends' advice and sneers of foe, Drains the bright goblet with ecstatic joy.

Alas, too soon taught fearfully to know How bitter are the dregs that lurk unseen below!

To him are yet unknown the coals of fire

That rack and burn the agitated brain, When all is centred in one grand desire

Of that fell draught, and tears of blood, like rain Fall as he feels the tightening of the chain

Round him unbreakable-the bloodshot eyesThe broken frame-the starts of biting painThe griping twinge of conscience, as he lies And yells for drink-more drink-and drinks, and gasps, and dies!

Arch-fiend, I know thee! Think not to disguise Thy horrible deformity from me;

In fancy, I can hear the ghostly cries

Of those immortal spirits damned through thee. And yet I fear lest I am doomed to be Thy victim, most insinuating foe; Lest to thine arts I yield the pliant knee,

And sink beneath thy breath like Burns and Poe, As melt before the sun soft heaps of wreathy snow.

I fear thy smooth and soberfaced allies,
Who, standing at thy back with easy mien,
With steady hand and captivating eyes,
Polite and condescending air, are seen
To hand the deadly mixture, while the sheen
Of some poor fool's last silver coin appears;
A moment, then is cast the till within,

In which the wise and moral landlord rears,
A fortune for himself, and thousands for his heirs.

Talk not to me of rectitude within

A moral pest-house; talk not of your board,+ I care not how respectably you sin, On best and worst this sentence I record, "Your trade's abomination to the Lord."

* Quantum mutatus ab illo.-VIRG., AEN. II. 274. + The Grocers' and Vintners' Society.

[THE foregoing poem has been kindly forwarded to us by our warm friend, James Haughton, Esq., J.P., Dublin, who in his letter says "The writer was a man of genius and of great talent; the son of a farmer from your own Province; he passed through our Trinity College with great credit, having, I believe, gained more than one gold medal, and made many friends there. But, like many a son of genius, he fell beneath the allurements of our drinking customs, and became a very degraded man. Several years ago, he called on me, and told me the sad story of a few past years, in which all his once happy prospects were blighted. He was then in a most miserable condition, but as he assured me, for several weeks a strict teetotaler, and having every hope that, with a little pecuniary help, he would be able once more to take a respectable position in society. I enquired among his college friends, and found that his story was true. We raised a small sum for him, and he soon obtained a situation as tutor in one of our large schools, the duties of which he filled for a few years, when he died, his constitution having been broken down by his former excesses. He wrote the poem which I now send you, and which has never been published. seems to me to possess much poetic merit; and in this respect, as well as the congenial subject on which it treats, I think it worthy a place in your pages."-ED. I. T. L. J.

Real power wants no display.

It

The teacher who does you most service is not he who does your thinking for you, but rather he who induces you to do it for yourself.

Never indulge in libellous insinuations. If you have charges to prefer, let them be distinct as to the subject, and direct as to the person.

ADELAIDE SINGLETON spoke very little during the journey, and several times Mrs. Letstieg saw her close her eyes as if to shut out unpleasant recollections. Her pale, wretched-looking face bore all the traces of deep sorrow sufficient to draw forth the sympathy of even the hardest heart. Mr. Letstieg had driven up just as the train was about to start, and was so busy with papers for the first half hour that after being introduced to Miss Singleton he never raised his head. The first time he did so he could not resist the exclamation, "I'm afraid, my dear lady, that you are sick." The very words fell like a healing balsam upon her heart, and brought a momentary forgetfulness of all her sorrow. He looked like a man whose heart was touched, but in a cheerful tone said to Mrs. Letstieg, "Louisa, I know your skilful powers, take good care of our patient." This roused Mrs. Letstieg from her reverie. Leaning back in the carriage, she, for the last half hour lived in the past, and called up to the mind's eye days that she strove to forget, but could not. the call of duty now, and yielding to the generous impulse of her own noble loving heart, she buried past cares in forgetfulness, and, with that attention which has been well called "feminine freemasonry," beguiled poor Adelaide Singleton of half her cares. Ye are the true conquerors who battle against inward care, and while the terrible struggle is going on seek the happiness of others. This truly is to conquer ourselves-a victory not to be gained without wounds, which,

At

"Write the wrinkles deepest on the brow." The very look with which Mrs. Letstieg turned towards Adelaide Singleton said, to a close observer, plainly enough, "Be at rest, O my heart, and let me forget myself in attending to another's woes."

Placing her hand on hers, she said, "Miss Singleton, we must be sisters; so let me call you Adelaide. What is your mother's address? I'll call and see her to-morrow; I can't go to-day, as I must see a relation of ours who has been for a long time an invalid.” "Now, ladies, we are at our journey's end; this is Euston Square Station. Stay in the carriage for a few minutes, and I'll see to the luggage, and get a cab."

Whether Mr. Letstieg meant to give the opportunity or not to his wife, I cannot say, though from his character I think he did; she availed herself of it, and turning to Miss Singleton,

"Adelaide, I must claim the privilege of an old friend, and ask you to do me a great favour."

Poor Miss Singleton, for the first time since they left Layton, brightened up.

"Oh! Mrs. Letstieg, tell me what I can do as the commencement of a life of gratitude for the happiness you have given me."

A smile was upon Mrs. Letstieg's face as she said, "Take this purse and what it contains, as a present."

As she put it into her trembling hand, Mr. Letstieg came to the door of the carriage to say that all was ready. They parted, Mr. and Mrs. Letstieg to visit a friend, and Miss Singleton to what she called "home." She knew of Amy's illness, of the loss by fire, of their being obliged to accept the kindly offer of a shelter from a neighbour, but she only thought of the present Mrs. Letstieg had given her, and of all she could do for her mother and sick sister with so much money.

After driving nearly an hour up one back street and down another, through places that made her almost doubt was this London; such wretched houses! such ragged women and children! such streets! how could any one live here! How she pitied the palefaced creatures that stood with sickly children at the doors, to breathe, as they thought and hoped, the air of heaven, but which was little better than azotic gas. Near the corner of one of these streets, the cab drew suddenly up. She looked out and saw a poor boy with an arm in a sling, and a face that told of suffering, sitting outside the door on a low stool. Even from the hasty view she got of him, her heart was touched. What a brotherhood there is in suffering! What an electric current is established between hearts that have equally endured. She looked out, wondering why the cab stopped at such a place, perhaps there was some obstacle in the way.

"Here we are; No. 5, Elephant Row," and the cabman put his hand on her trunk, and, whipping it out, placed it on one end in the middle of the street. Had he driven to one of the squares, or to any respectable street, he would have touched his hat, and have spoken in a different tone; but poverty never commands the respect of cabmen. Still I believe that had she put up the thick dark veil she wore, shrouding her face, even the cabman would have shown the truth of the Chinese maxim, "Sorrow on a fair face is the mother of respect."

The fare was paid, the cab drove off, she stood by the trunk and looked towards No. 5; could she have mistaken the number-"Oh, dear, darling sister, have you come!" and an arm was about her neck. She looked; good heavens! could this be her brother Henry. And thus brother and sister met, who had a happy home six months ago.

"Henry, my own, poor, dear Henry, have you been ill? Mamma never told me."

"I was hurt the night of the fire; I am now nearly quite well; but oh! I am so glad you came, Amy is dy-," he checked himself, so very ill."

Brother and sister carried in the trunk between them; it was not difficult to do so; else with a wasted body and one hand poor Henry could not have done it. Adelaide was going up the creaking stairs, groping her way, though it was broad day-light; a door was opened on the side of the lobby, which, while it enabled her to see, showed also the utter desolation of all around. The walls were so black that, however thankful a person might be to their shadow for

"Sometime falling there,"

they would have very little chance of seeing it. She stood a moment at the open door like one who awakens from some terrible nightmare. Could this be her mother, who, with a face as pale as ever human eye beheld, sat by the curtainless and squallid bed of a young girl who had more of heaven than earth in her look. How quick are the senses of those on the brink of eternity! as if already there was an unseen communication between them and the spirit-realm.

"Mother, hush, I know the step; there, there's our darling Adelaide. Oh! I knew she would come." The mother scarcely raised her head, for often in delirium had Amy called upon her absent brother and sister; but this was no fevered dream; the sisters were locked in each other's arms, and with "heart to heart" forgot the pain of a long separation in that one fond embrace. Poor Adelaide turned towards her mother; she had fainted, and never did a faint look so like death.

“Oh! Amy darling, what will I do; our mother, our darling mother, is dying," and she flung her arms wildly around her.

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'Adelaide, get some water and bathe her temples, and wet her lips with it; dear mamma often has a fainting fit." It was wonderful with what steadiness Amy said this, with all the precision of an old person. Sickness invariably produces that steadiness of thought and action.

Adelaide did as her sister directed, and the poor mother opened her eyes.

In the midst of these scenes Mrs. Banett, who lived in the next rooms, came up stairs and, putting down a basket said, "I could get but two shillings on it, mam, and the baker kept the fivepence you owed him, and I got tea and sugar for the rest. I'll boil the kettle and you can have breakfast in a few minutes." It had come to this. They had pawned almost everything. It was now one o'clock and they had no breakfast. It is a terrible thing to stand face to face with poverty-to see no ray of light amidst the gathered gloom-to yield up hope, and lie prostrate in the arms of grim despair-to know that you might as well bring life into the stony eyes of the sphinx, as try a passage through the gloom of poverty. Talk of poverty-learn it in the case of Otway, who died gnawing a bone; see it in Chatterton, the noble gifted child of song, driving him to face the unseen world; see it in the hundreds from out whose hearts it crushes every hope, and then you may begin to know its effects upon the once happy home of the Singletons.

Adelaide, for the first time, opened the purse Mrs. Letstieg gave her, and placed the five notes in the hands of her mother; yet they brought no smile upon that face. There is a depth of sorrow which shuts out joy. No wonder the long-imprisoned captive, who had in weary years of captivity outlived all his friends, preferred the dungeon to liberty, and hearing of his release without a smile, sat still within the cell which soon became his grave.

Adelaide told the history of the five pounds, and when it was ended, Amy said, "Let us kneel down and thank our Heavenly Father, and then let us pray for-What is the name Adelaide ?-Mrs. Letstieg."

"Mrs. Letstieg, I'll never forget that name, it will be ever upon my lips; I'll mingle it with the song of angels ;" and after the momentary excitement, she lay back upon the pillow as if she were soon to join that angel choir, of which she often spoke. "Amy, she will be here to-morrow." "May God spare me to see her."

To this poor Mrs. Singleton replied by a low "Amen."

CHAPTER XI.

AN INSIDE PASSENGER.

ON sped the train to Plymouth. The moment it arrived there Richard Singleton drove to the principal hotel, and made enquiries about the American or Australian steamers. He had money enough, and once away he would begin again-turn over a new leaf-be a reformed character in fact. Such are the intentions of thousands, but they put them off until action becomes impossible. He had been made the tool of Hathaway, and both were the tools of Mr. Wriggle, gentleman at law; but of this again. He had now five hundred pounds with him, and once away he would earn an honest livelihood, though he were to break stones by the way side. He went down to the harbour, and found that a steamer would be ready to start at ten o'clock that night. As it was now only five he went back to the hotel. He thought he had guarded sufficiently against detection by cutting his hair very closely, and shaving his whiskers-those whiskers that had cost him many a box of pomatum, and which had been coaxed to their growth

by sundry contrivances. He went into the coffeeroom, assuming as careless an air as possible, and ordered a beef-steak and a pint of stout.

While he is enjoying his meal we must look after Sergeant Catchwell, of the detective force. Throwing himself back in the railway carriage, he looked into the little enamelled bag and found that the train would reach Plymouth at nine o'clock. "Now," he thought, "as this is a luggage train I may calculate that it will be half-an-hour late. Now what about the shipping." He turned over a few leaves and ran his eye along the advertisements. "Here they are; the Seamew' sails at ten o'clock for Melbourne; I need not look at the others. He is a young hand, and he will go at once and secure a berth in the first ship that sails. An old chip would wait for a few days. There wont be much trouble in securing him. There's very little interest in a case like this; but the reward is pretty good, and my reputation is at stake, as I have never failed for the last two years. Let me see, I must secure him this night; to-morrow I must see after that infanticide case when I get back."

Exactly at half-past nine the train arrived at its destination. He sat at the station a few minutes reflecting what his next step would be.

"Move aside there," said a surly porter, as he rolled barrel after barrel from the goods carriages to the float that was ready to carry them to the shipping. Bales, barrels, and all were now packed up and ready to start, when Mr. Catchwell, as if struck by a new thought, went over to the superintendent of the station and showed him some papers. They then went into the office; and in ten minutes Mr. Catchwell came out, whip in hand, a carter's smock frock, and a slouched hat, and, mounting one of the waggons, sat on a barrel and drove away with the other carts. He took the driver up, who looked in astonishment at him.

"Well, I suppose its all roight, as the master told me he gave the hanimal to your care; but I dont see the fun of it all."

"Bob, aint your name Bob." "No, it be Tom."

"Well, Tom, I'll show you some fun by and bye. I don't mind telling you. I hexpect that there's a young man a going out in the 'Seamew,' he has some money that I would as soon take from him, and, in return, I'll get him a free voyage. There are some valuable papers a missing which I hobject to his keeping. Just you see how quietly I do these things."

"I hexpect he's armed, so I'll not be near you when you take him. I as read on the papers how a man was shot some time ago in a mistake."

"Ha, ha, ha," laughed Mr. Catchwell," You would make a bad detective; he won't make much fuss when these bracelets are on him ;" and, saying this, he took handcuffs out of a breast pocket.

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'Perhaps he has some friends." This trifling remark made Mr. Catchwell silent for a moment.

After a few minutes he said, "There is a young rascal connected with the removal of valuable papers, and I made sure of nabbing him, but as hif the earth hopened and swallowed him hup, like the big fish that a swallowed Jonas, I can't make him hoff."

"Oh! a youngster like him can't get away, you'll soon put a ring on him."

"Yes, but my reputation is at stake; for I as promised to give him a new suit of jail clothes afor Saturday, and this is Thursday morning." Mr. Catchwell gave the horse a cut of the whip as he said, "But I'll have the young rascal safe in a few days."

Was it the wheel running over a stone that made the barrel give such a sound. Mr. Catchwell evidently thought so, for he looked over the side of the cart,

yet sharp a fellow as he was, and he was sharp, the sound arose from the barrel on which he was sitting. I must give the brief history of that noise which Mr. Catchwell and the driver did not bestow a second thought on. If you, good reader, are sceptical about the truth of the story, just read the cross-examination of Sergeant O'Figh, in the case of the Queen versus John William Thimble, in which it is narrated, on no less authority than the reporter of the "Monthly Hexameter," that the said Sergeant O'Figh was obliged to leave the detective force because it appeared he heard a sound somewhere near him, and did not look whence it proceeded. After such a want of curiosity he was obliged to retire, though it had been urged, on his behalf, that he found out a murder that had for months baffled detection, by looking curiously at the heel of a lady's stocking. The reader remembers how Bill Higgins put his friend, Jack, into a barrel, when Mr. Gilby and a squad from the ragged school were in hot pursuit. Well, then, this barrel was conveyed with a lot of others to the railway station, and sent on to Plymouth by the very train by which Mr. Catchwell travelled. Poor Jack was very uncomfortable, and did not at all relish "life in a tub." Every time the barrel was moved he was knocked about, sometimes he was on his feet, sometimes on his head, and very often lying in what a mathematician would call a "horizontal direction," but what Bill Higgins advised him to was keep on your crubbeens."

Mr. Catchwell sat on the very barrel in which Jack was immured; he heard all the enquiries after himself, and from a hereditary hatred of all such law officers, Jack was half inclined to run the knife he was provi. ded with through the top of the barrel and thus dislodge his adversary by an admirable coup de etat. In the anger and forgetfulness of the moment he raised his head and hit the top of the barrel, hence "the sound so softly" that stole on Mr. Catchwell's

ear.

Jack was determined to give timely notice to Richard Singleton, not that he knew his name, but he understood the game perfectly now, and saw that he had been a cat's paw for others. Nothing like poverty for sharpening the intellect. Let a man live on four-pence-ha'penny a day and earn it, too, and take my word for it, you wont find it easy to get at the blind side of him. Yet there are hearts that struggles against poverty, afflictions, and temptations render more tender and sympathetic. Jack was certainly more sinned against than sinning. It would be a very difficult matter to fill up a census return for him, inasmuch as his parentage was unknown, and he was brought up by an old hag who sent him out to steal at the age of six. He had no residence, no religion, even no age, for you might guess ten or eighteen years and be far from the mark; yet he had an open brow and a clear blue eye that made you look a second time, and somehow interested you in him. The barrels were deposited one after another near the "Seamew," at the shed built for goods. The barrel in which Jack was concealed, in place of rolling along the plank fixed at the end of the cart, dropt down on the pavement. Jack's head got a bump that would have puzzled a phrenologist, and which almost made him cry out with pain.

"All right now," shouted Mr. Catchwell to the drayman, "Do you take this hanimal, while I catch another hanimal-a boyped. I dare say Mr. Catchwell meant a biped, probably in his playful humour he made a pun, but whether successful or not, he succeeded in making Tom Parkins the drayman hate him, and inwardly pray he might never nab his man; even a smothered curse did not satisfy him, for he expressed a curse as Catchwell went away, which