my power to return. In this uncertainty I came to anchor just on shore, to which I waded with my gun on my shoulder, and then climbing a hill, which overlooked that point, I saw the full extent of it, and resolved to run all hazards. That night it grew so calm that I ventured out; and here I may be a monument to all rash and ignorant pilots; for I was no sooner come to the point, and not above a boat's length from shore, but I was got into deep water, with a current like a mill, which drove my boat along so violently, that it was impossible for me to keep near the edge of it, but forced me more and more out from the eddy to the left of me; and all I could do with my paddles was useless, there being no wind to help me.

Who can conceive the present anguish of my mind at this calamity? With longing eyes did I look upon my little kingdom, and thought the island the pleasantest place in the universe, "Happy, thrice happy desert," said I. "Shall I never see thee more? wretched creature! whither am I going? why did I murmur at my lonesome condition, when now I would give the whole world to be thither again?" While I was thus complaining, I found myself driven about two leagues into the sea; however, I laboured till my strength was far spent, to keep my boat as far north as possible. About noon, I perceived a little breeze of wind spring up, which overjoyed my heart; and I was still more elated, when in about half an hour, it blew a gentle fine gale. I set up my mast again, spread my sail, and stood away northward as much as I could, to get rid of the current. And no sooner did the boat begin to move, but I perceived by the clearness of the water, a change of the current was near. About 4 o'clock in the afternoon, I reached within a league of the island, and within an hour came within a mile of the shore, where I

soon landed, to my unspeakable comfort; and after an humble prostration, thanking God for my deliverance, with resolution to lay all thoughts of escaping aside, I brought my boat safe to a little cove, and laid down to take a welcome repose.—DeFoe.

THE JACKAL AND THE CAMEL.

There once lived a Camel and a Jackal who were great friends. One day the Jackal said to the Camel, "" I know that there is a fine field of sugar-cane on the other side of the river. If you will take me across, I will show you the place; this plan will suit me as well as you. will enjoy eating the sugar-cane, and I am sure to find many crabs, bones, and bits of fish by the river side, on which to make a good dinner."

You

The Camel consented, and swam across the river, taking the Jackal, who could not swim, on his back. When they reached the other side, the Camel went to eat the sugarcane, and the Jackal ran up and down the river bank devouring all the crabs, bits of fish, and bones he could find.

But being so much smaller an animal, he had made an excellent meal before the Camel had eaten more than two or three mouthsful; and no sooner had he finished his dinner, than he ran round and round the sugar-cane field, yelping and howling with all his might.

The villagers heard him, and thought, "There is a jackal among the sugar-canes, he will be scratching holes in the ground, and spoiling the roots of the plants." And they all went down to the place to drive him away. But when they got there, they found to their surprise not only a Jackal, but a Camel who was eating the sugar-cane! This made them very angry, and they caught the poor

Camel, and drove him from the field, and beat him, until he was nearly dead.

When they had gone, the Jackal said to the Camel, "We had better go home." And the Camel said, "Very well, then jump upon my back as you did before."

So the Jackal jumped upon the Camel's back, and the Camel began to recross the river. When they had got well into the water, the Camel said, "This is a pretty way in which you have treated me, friend Jackal. No sooner had you finished your own dinner, than you must go yelping about the place loud enough to arouse the whole village, and bringing all the villagers down to beat me, and turn me out of the field before I had eaten two mouthsful! what in the world did you make such a noise for?"

"I don't know," said the Jackal, "It is a custom I have: I always like to sing a little after dinner."

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The Camel waded on through the river, till the water reached up to his knees. Then turning to the Jackal he said, "I feel very anxious to roll." 'Oh, pray do not; why do you wish to do so?" asked the Jackal, "I don't know," answered the Camel, "It is a custom I have, I always like to have a little roll after dinner." So saying, he rolled over in the water, shaking the Jackal off as he did so. And the Jackal was drowned, but the Camel swam safely to shore.-FRERE'S OLD DECCAN DAYS.

ULYSSES AND HIS DOG.

When wise Ulysses, from his native coast,
Long kept by wars, and long by tempests tos't,
Arrived at last, poor, old, disguis'd, alone,
To all his friends, and ev'n his Queen, unknown :
Chang'd as he was, with age, and toils, and cares,
Furrow'd his rev'rend face, and white his hairs,

son.

In his own palace forc'd to ask his bread,
Scorn'd by those slaves his former bounty fed,
Forgot of all his own domestic crew;

The faithful dog alone his rightful master knew.
Unfed, unhous'd, neglected, on the clay,
Like an old servant now cashier'd he lay;
Touch'd with resentment of ungrateful man,
And longing to behold his ancient Lord again.
Him when he saw-he rose, and crawl'd to meet,
("Twas all he could), and fawn'd, and kiss'd his feet,
Seiz'd with dumb joy-then falling by his side,
Own'd his returning Lord, look'd up, and died !—

FABLE-THE LARK AND HER YOUNG ONES.

POPE.

A lark, who had young ones in a field of corn which was almost ripe, was under some fear in case the reapers should come and reap it before her young brood was fledged, and able to remove from the place. Wherefore, upon flying abroad to look for food, she left this charge with them: that they should take notice of what they heard talked of in her absence, and tell her of it when she came back again. When she was gone, they heard the owner of the corn call to his "Well," says he, "I think this corn is ripe enough, I would have you go early to-morrow, and desire our friends and neighbours to come and help us to reap it." When the old lark came home, the young ones fell a quivering and chirping, begging her to remove them as fast as she could. The mother bid them be easy, for, says she, "if the owner depends upon his friends and neighbours, I am pretty sure the corn will not be reaped to-morrow." Next day she went out again upon the same occasion, and left the same orders with them as before. The owner came and staid, expecting

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Then," says

those he had sent to; but the sun grew hot, and nothing was done, for not a soul came to help him. he to his son, I perceive these friends of ours are not to be depended upon, so that you must even go to your uncles and cousins and tell them I desire that they would be here betimes to-morrow morning to help us to reap." Well, this the young ones in a great fright reported also to their mother. “If that be all,” says she, "do not be frightened, children, for kindred and relations do not use to be so very forward to serve one another; but take particular notice what you hear said the next time, and be sure you let me know it." She went abroad the next day as usual, and the owner, finding his relations as slack as the rest of his neighbours, said to his son, "Hark ye, George, do you get a couple of good sickles ready against to-morrow morning, and we will even reap the corn ourselves." When the young ones told their mother this," Then," says she, "we must be gone indeed; for when a man undertakes to do his business himself, it is not so likely he will be disappointed." So she removed her young ones immediately, and the corn was reaped the next day by the good man and his son.-ESOP's FABLES.

THE POOR COBBLER AND THE FAIRIES.

Many years ago in a small Cornish village there dwelt a poor, honest, hard-working cobbler, who barely managed to earn sufficient to support himself and his wife. Day by day matters became worse and worse, till at length he had only sufficient leather left in his shop to make a solitary pair of boots. So, cutting them out all ready to stitch them next morning, he retired to bed. Imagine his surprise when he went to his shop to find the shoes all finished and complete; indeed, so well were they sewn, that a customer happening to look in, was so pleased with them, that he at once gave