blew, and the thaw increased the waters, and reminded them of the dreary night when he first asked shelter beneath their humble thatch: and the old cousins would often repeat the old saying;

"IT IS AN ILL WIND THAT BLOWS NOBODY ANY GOOD."

THE NOTE-BOOK.

Ir frequently happens that, as they walk about, people find things which are dropped in the streets. Those which are of much value are generally advertised in the newspapers, but such as are deemed mere trifles are, for the most part pocketed by the finders. I once found a packet of gingerbread cakes on the coach pavement, which, I dare say, was much lamented by some disappointed child; and I once found a well-stored needle-case, for the loss of which some unfortunate little girl was, no doubt, punished at school: but I never found a purse or a jewel in my life: so that I never have been tempted to retain what, being valuable, would perhaps have constituted a theft. There are also some things so equivocal in their value, that it is difficult to say if they be precious or trifling. Of that nondescript sort is a note-book which a gentleman picked up in one of the great

squares. It was much torn, and appeared to have contained more than remained to make amends to the finder for the trouble of stooping to gain it. Many of the leaves had been torn out at the beginning, and some of those remaining were partly torn away; and there was still much blank paper. The scribble left was the journal of some young man, seemingly on a visit in London, who, in all probability meant, when he returned home, to entertain this country friends with his adventures and remarks. The first register was sadly mutilated: it began with the word horse, and a little lower down the word bridle was found. There was not enough however, of the beginning of the entry to enable any one to ascertain who the writer was, whence he came, or whither he was going. Two or three broken lines followed the above two words, and then it went on smoothly, thus,

When we had travelled more than seventeen miles without halting, I observed that Whitefoot began to flag; and I said to my uncle, “ Sir, you had better rest the horse at the next inn we reach."

"Rest the horse!" said my uncle, “I am in a hurry, and I must get to my journey's end without delay."

"Whitefoot shall

go on," said

said my

uncle.

"You will gain time," said I, " by letting the poor animal rest a little, for afterward he will go on with fresh spirit, and make up for the time lost."

"Hold your tongue," said my uncle, " do you think that I do not understand horses better than you."

I was silenced.

Whitefoot stopped, my uncle whipped him severely; he went on; he stopped again; my uncle whipped again; and thus we went very slowly for a mile and a half beyond an inn which we were very near when I first asked my uncle to halt. Whitefoot stopped again, my uncle grew angry, and lashed him very cruelly

Whitefoot dropped-my uncle became furious. When we got out of the gig to help him to rise, poor Whitefoot was dead. ،، This comes of overloading the gig with you," said my uncle, "Your weight has killed him. What amends can you make me, hey, for my good nature in giving you a ride?"

My weight, Sir!" said I.

Yes, your weight, Sir," said my uncle. "Come, help me to draw the gig to some place where I can get another horse."

He unfastened the traces, took off the harness,

and put it into the carriage. In very great displeasure he pulled and kicked Whitefoot to the side of the road, and then we began to drag the gig. The road was a bye road, so no one came by to help us. Forward we went til we came to

a bill.

66

2

We must rest ourselves," said my uncle, "and then on again til we get to the top."

"If you had allowed Whitefoot to rest,” said I, we should have saved all the time we are labouring, and have saved Whitefoot too.

66

What do you mean by saying we should have saved Whitefoot? I tell you, your weight killed him. Do you reproach me with my good nature?"

66

'No, I am sure I cannot do that," said I. "You had better not," said my uncle.

Well-on we went again, pushing and pulling by turns, and stopping every ten minutes, and putting stones under the wheels to prevent them from running back. When we reached the top of the hill, which we were a long tedious time surmounting," One more rest," said my uncle, "and we shall go famously down."

We have lost more time than would have rested Whitefoot," said I.