[From Blackwood's Magazine.] THE HOUR OF FORTUNE. "We have still a home, my Emily, though it is a poor one," said Ernest Darley to his beautiful young wife, the first day they took possession of their lodgings in an humble alley in London. "I little thought, when we used to wander in the old woods at Balston, that I should take you to such a miserable abode as this." "I am happier here, dear Ernest, than in the woods of Balston." "Now, it makes me angry to see you happy! I believe you would continue to smile and be contented if we were in jail." "If we were in jail together, Ernest." "Ah! bless you my own dearest. Fortune cannot continue to frown upon so much goodness." "The Christian calls Fortune by a different name. He calls it Providence." "Well, providence, fortune, fate, chance, or whatever other name it rejoices in, cannot surely persecute us for ever. We are guilty of no fault." "We are married against your uncle's will. He spurned us from the moment we were united. He must have some reason surely for his detestation of me." to send an answer? I have left our address here with his scoundrelly attorney, in case he should condescend to favor me with a reply." At this moment a knock was heard at the door, and in answer to the "Come in" of Mr. Darley, a lawyer's clerk presented himself, and, with no very respectful demeanour held out a letter. "A letter! From whom!" "From Mr. Clutchem. Does it wait an answer?" Ernest hurriedly glanced it over. "No. There-there," he said, as soon as they were again alone," Relent, indeed! Read it." Emily took the letter and read "Sir, I am desired by Sir Edward Darley, Bart. to inform you, that no begging letters will be received; and further, 1 am desired to inform you, that Sir Edward Darley holds ackowledgments from you, for the sum of 3,4001. advanced to you while at Oxford. Measures will be taken to exact payment of the full amount forthwith. Your obedient servant, SIMON CLUTCHEM." "Then we are indeed entirely ruined!" said Emily, with a sigh. "Do you doubt it! So we have been any day this three months." "But can he really claim that money?" 66 I suppose so. He always took my acknowl edgments for the amount of my year's allowance soley, he said, to enable him to keep his books. As he had always taught me to consider myself his heir, I never thought he would produce them against me; but stay, have you looked on the other page of the note? "P.S.-I am further requested to beg your presence to day, at half past five, to be witness to an important deed." "What reason can any one have to detest you! You were poor-had he not told me over and over again that he did not care for wealth in the object of my choice? You were young, beautiful, accomplished, my equal in birth--it At the appointed hour Ernest was punctually can't be--it can't be! I tell you it must be some- at Mr. Clutchem's office. There, sitting in an thing that I have done that makes him so enrag-easy chair, to his great surprise, he saw his uncle. He approached with a gush of feeling at his heart, but the baronet fiercely ordered him back. ed.' "And what have you done, Ernest, that can make him your enemy! You bore with all his humours and caprices; you were affectionate to him as a son; he loved you better than any thing else upon earth. How kind he was to you in your youth, and how well you deserved his kindness! No, no, it is me he persecutes-me he hates." "Then may the God of "Hush! hush! dear Ernest. He may yet relent!" "Relent! Ha ha! Sir Edward Darley relent! I tell you he makes it one of his boasts, that he never forgave, and never will forgive, even an imaginary offence. Relent! I tell you he is of that stubborn, obstinate nature, the feeling of repentance is unknown to him." "Try him, dear Ernest; he cannot be so immovable. Ask him in what we have offended him, and tell him we are anxious to atone for our offence." I do," said Ernest, wondering to what this question tended. "I had him shot the day before yestesday. Your dogs, you no doubt remember them well; Bruno, and Ponto, and Cæsar-and the old Newfoundland that brought Miss Merivale-I beg your pardon-Mrs. Ernest Darley, your amiable wife, out of the lake, when your awkwardness upset the boat!" "I do,-the faithful, affectionate creature!" I hanged them all at the same time. You recollect Abraham Andrews, whom you installed in the fancy cottage in the park, and his mother, and his family, that you were so interested "Have I not written to him? Have I not beg-in! They have left the cottage; they have been ged an interview, in terms which I never thought I should have meanness enough to address to mortal man? Have I not besought him at least to inform me what I have done to draw down bis indignation, and has he ever even deigned paupers on the parish for some time." "Sir!" cried Ernest," if you only summoned me here to listen to the recital of such infamous, inhuman" 66 Spare your heroics, young man: you will ODE TO THE KENTUCKY RIVER. listen to something more before we part. But come. We are wasting time. Now hear me. You married that girl. You asked no leave of me. Do you know, sir, who her mother waswho her father was!-and do you know, sir, what reason I have to hate them? Answer me that, sir." "Her father and mother have long been dead, sir. I never knew any cause you could have to dislike them." "Dislike!-Use better words, sir:-say hate, detest, abhor them. Oh! you did not!-you ought to have asked, sir:-you would have known that the mother ruined my happinessthat the father attempted to take my life-that I loved her, sir, fiercely truly-and that she taught me to believe that she returned my love; till-till it suited her purpose, and she proved herself a" "Stay, sir. I will hear no such language applied to the mother of my wife." "Your wife! Oh, is she your wife, sir? And has her equipages, no doubt, and her country house, and her town house-your lady wife, sir; and her mother was". "I shall stay here no longer, sir." "Wait, wait!-Mr. Clutchem, is the deed all properly prepared?-worded so that the law can find flaws in't?" "It is, Sir Edward." "Then give me a pen, Mr. Clutchem, it wants but my signature to make it efficient." "This deed, Mr. Ernest Darley, is my will-by which I bestow, irrevocably; land, houses, money, goods, mortgages, &c. &c., on certain charities, for which I care nothing, sir, but that I know my bequest will be less beneficial so applied than by any other means and leave you, sir, and your inestimable wife, the baronetcy--oh! I would not have you deprived of that!-and a jail, sir; and here, sir, I have called you to be a witness. The ink, the ink, Mr. Clutchem," he continued, and held out his pen to dip it in the inkstand, keeping his eye still savagely fixed on his unfortunate nephew. The clock struck six-a sudden light flashed into the room-and Ernest thought he heard, for one moment, the creaking of a wheel. The Baronet's hand continued in the same position-his eye still glared upon the countenance of his nephew, and a dead silence reigned in the room. At last Mr. Clutchem advanced; "How's this?-bless me! Sir Edward is quite cold?Help, there!-run for Sir Astley. Ah! the passion was too much for him-gone off in a fit. Dead as an unsigned parchment. Sir Ernest! I shall be happy, sir, to continue in the service of the family. The rent-roll is in my desk, sir; fourteen thousand a year. How would you like the funeral conducted? Quite private, of course. Honor me by accepting the loan of this two thousand pounds, for your immediate expenses. I wish you long life, Sir Ernest, and joy of your title, Sir Ernest. Sir Edward shall be carefully buried day week." GOOD BREEDING.-Great talent renders a man famous; great merit procures respect; great learning esteem; but good breeding alone ensures respect and esteem. -GREATNESS OF MIND. From the Saturday Evening Post. ODE TO THE KENTUCKY RIVER. R. T. W. was arrested at Aix, during the reign of Robespierre. Upon being interrogated about the concealment of a hundred thousand crowns, which had been buried by his wife, he was discharged, but a confidential servant was taken up, and confined, it being proved that he was privy to the transaction. Every possible mode was tried to prevail upon him to discover the place where this treasure was deposited, and he was repeatedly offered his life on this condition. The president himself repaired to the prison, released him from the oath of secrecy which he had taken, and commanded him to disclose the particulars of the transaction. The faithful domestic, however, replied as follows: "When I was entrusted with the secret, both your wife and myself knew before hand that it would be improper to confide it to you, and my firmness will hereafter prove beneficial to your children." Having said this he walked forward to the scaffold prepared for the occasion, and was instantly executed. There are few countries, which, if well cultivated, would not support double the number of their inhabitants, and yet fewer where one-third part of the people are not extremely stinted even in the necessaries of life. I send out twenty barrels of corn, which would maintain a family in bread for a year, and I bring back in return a vessel of wine, which half a dozen good fellows would drink in less than a month, at the expense of their health and reason.-Swift. NATURAL HISTORY. From Capt. Merrills' Journal of Voyages and Travels. The feathered tribes are very numerous on those lonlely isles of the southern hemisphere, both in the South Sea and in the South Pacific Ocean. Of Penguins there are four different kinds which resort to the Falkland Islands; viz. the king penguin, the macaroni, the jackass, and the rookery. The first of these is much larger than a goose; the other three are smaller, differing in appearance in several particulars. They all walk upright, as their legs project from their bodies in the same direction with their tails; and when fifty or more of them are moving in file, they appear at a distance like a company of juvenile soldiers. They carry their heads high, with wings drooping like two arms. As the feathers on the breast are delicately white, with a line of black running across the crop, they have been aptly compared, when seen at a little distance, to a company of children with white aprons tied round their waists with black strings. This feathered animal is said to combine the qualities of man, fishes, and fowls; upright like the first; their wings and feet acting the part of fins, like the second; and furnished with bills and feathers like the third. Their gait on land, however, is very awkward; more so than that of a jack tar, just landed from a long voyage; their legs not being much better adapted for walking their wings are for flying. The next most remarkable bird to be found on those shores is the penguin's intimate associate and most particular friend, the albatross. This is one of the largest and most formidable of the South Sea birds; being of the gull kind, and taking its prey upon the wing. Like many other oceanic birds, the albatross never comes on land, except for the purpose of breeding; when the attachment that exists between it and the penguin, is evinced in many remarkable instances; indeed it seems as firm as any that can be formed by the sincerest friends. Their nests are constructed with great uniformity near to each other; that of the albatross being always in the centre of a little square, formed by the nests of four penguins. But more of this in its proper place. Another sea-fowl, peculiar to these islands, is called the upland goose, and is about the size of our domestic goose; palatable when cooked, being sweet, tender and juicy. Their plumage is rich and glossy; that of the gander a dazzling white, his bill being short and black, and his feet yellow. The edges of the feathers which cover his breast and back are black. The down is nearly equal to that of the swan, and would make beautiful trimming for ladies' dresses. But the down of the albatross is superior to any thing of the kind that I have ever seen; though that of the shag approaches the nearest to it in quality. If any method could be invented to divest it of that disagreeable fishy odor, peculiar to all oceanic birds, it would be the most valuable down ever brought to this country; and I believe that their feathers might be made equally as valuable as geese feathers. The teal is likewise found here, and far surpassing in beauty those of this country. Their bills and feet are blue; their wings of a golden green; and the plumage of their bodies more Brilliant and shining than that of the pintado. The ducks are similar to those of our own country. There is also a goose here, called the lowland goose, which somewhat resembles our tame geese. The males are of a variegated hue, a kind of mixture of a white and dark grey, chiefly white. The females are mostly grey, and resemble the brant of the United States. They are not quite so large as our geese, and feed on shell-fish and rock-help, which gives their flesh a very unpleasant flavor. When a sufficient number of penguins, albatross, &c. are assembled on the shore, after a deliberate consultation on the subject, they proceed to the excution of the grand purpose for which they left their favorite element. In the first place they carefully select a level piece of ground, of suitable extent, often comprising four or five acres, and as near the water as practicable, always preferring that which is the least encumbered with stones, and other hard substances, with which it would be dangerous to have their eggs come into contact. As soon as they are satisfied on this point, they proceed to lay out the plan of their projected encampment; which task they commence by tracing a well defined parallelogram, of sufficient magnitude to accommodate the whole fraternity, say from one to five acres. One side of this square runs parallel with the water's edge, and is always left open for egress and regress; the other three sides are differently arranged. The industrious feathered laborers next proceed to clear all the ground within the square from obstructions of every kind, picking up the stones in their bills and carefully depositing them outside of the lines before mentioned, until they sometimes, by this means, create a little wall on three sides of the rookery. Within this range of stones and rubbish they form a pathway, six or eight feet in width, and as smooth as any paved or gravelled walk. This path is for a general promenade by day, and for the sentinels to patrol by night. Having thus finished their little works of defence on the three land sides, they next lay out the whole area in little squares of equal sizes, formed by narrow paths which cross each other at right angles; and which are also made very smooth. At each intersection of these paths an albatross constructs her nest, while in the centre of each little square is a penguin's nest; so that each albatross is surrounded by four penguins; and each penguin has an albatross for its neighbor in four directions. In this regular manner is the whole area occupied by these feathered sojourners, of different species, leaving at convenient distances, accommodations for some other kinds of oceanic birds, such as the shag, or green cormorant, and another which the seamen call Nelly. Although the penguin and the albatross are on such intimate terms, and appear to be affectionately and sincerely attached to each other, they not only build their nests in a very different manner, but the penguin will even rob her friend's WILD HORSES-HONOUR AMONG THE INDIANS. nest whenever she has an opportunity. The penguin's nest is merely a slight excavation in the earth, just deep enough to prevent her single egg rolling from its primitive position; while the albatross throws up a little mound of earth, grass and shells, eight or ten inches high, and about the size of a water bucket, on the summit of which she forms her nest, and thus looks down upon her nearest neighbours and best friends. None of the nests in these rookeries are ever left unoccupied for a single moment, until the eggs are hatched and the young ones old enough to take care of themselves. The male goes to sea in search of food until his hunger is appeased; he then promptly returns and affectionately takes the place of his mate, while she resorts to the same element for the like purpose. In the interchange of these kind offices, they so contrive it as not to leave the eggs uncovered at all; the present incumbent (say the female) making room for the partner of her cares and pleasures on his return from the sea, while he nestles in by her side until the eggs are completely covered by his feathers. By this precaution they prevent their eggs being stolen by the other birds, which would be the case were they left exposed; for the females are so ambitious of producing a large family at once, that they rob each other whenever they have an opportunity. Similar depredations are also committed by a bird called the rook, which is equally mischievous as the monkey. The royal penguin is generally foremost in felonies of this description, and never neglects an opportunity of robbing a neighbor. Indeed, it often happens that when the period of incubation is terminated, the young brood will consist of three or four different kinds of birds in one nest. This is strong circumstantial evidence that the parent bird is not more honest than her neighbors. To stand at a little distance and observe the movements of the birds in these rookeries, is not only amusing but edifying and even affecting. The spectacle is truly worthy the contemplation of a philosophic mind. You will see them marching round the encampment in the out-side path, or public promenade, in pairs, or in squads of four, sir, or eight, forcibly reminding you of ofofficers and subalterns on a parade day. At the same time the camp, or rookery, is in continual motion; some penguins passing through the different paths or alleys, on their return from an aquatic excursion, eager to caress their mates after a temporary absence; while the latter are passing out in their turn, in quest of recreation and refreshment. At the same time, the air is almost darkened by an immense number of albatross hovering over the rookery like a dense cloud, some continually lighting and meeting their companions, while others are constantly rising and shaping their course for the sea. THE WILD HORSES.-"The herds of wild horses present a beautiful spectacle when they are alarmed in their native wilds by the intrusion of an army.--Instead of flying, as the deer and other timid animals, they gallop round in compact masses of many thousands, apparently for the purpose of reconnoitering the strangers; and 89 frequently advance boldly to within a few yards of the line of march, where they halt to gaze at the troops, snorting, and shewing every sign of astonishment and displeasure, especially at sight of the cavalry. These droves are always headed by some fine looking old Bashaws, whose flowing manes and tails plainly shew that they have never been subject to man's control; and in the rear the mares and colts follow."-[Campaigns and Cruises in Venezula.] ANIMAL SAGACITY.-The following curious fact is related by Professor Scarpa, in one of his valuable anatomical works. A duck, accustomed to feed out of his owner's hand, was offered some perfumed bread. The animal at first refused, but afterwards took it in its bill, carried it to a neighbouring pond, moved it briskly backwards and forwards under the water, as if to wash away the disagreeable smell, and then swallowed it. HONOUR AMONG THE INDIANS.-The following is related in the Richmond Compiler, of Thursday last: When Gen. Scott arrived at the American encampment in the North West, he found three Indian prisoners-under a charge of murdering the whites. The evidence was slight-and an application had been sent on to Washington to obtain their discharge. But the President had gone to the Hermitage, and the Secretary of War to Detroit. No answer was of course obtained. In the meantime, the Cholera broke out among the American troops in the camp on Rock River. Many became victims. One of the three Indian prisoners also took it and died. The General seeing the danger they were exposed to, determined on letting the two survivors out of confinement-and told them if they would confine themselves to the island in the river, he would permit them to go there. Their word being pledged, he directed them to go to the extreme part of the island, where they might keep somewhat out of the way of our troops. They accordingly repaired to the quarter where he had directed them to go-but they never once left the island-although they might easily have made their escape. Meantime the Cholera spread and the danger thickened. The General then told them that he would permit them to go to their tribe, upon condition they would return to the camp as soon as he gave them notice that the Cholera was gone. They assented to the terms, and went home. These men were under a charge of murderand might have lost their lives if they were put upon their trial. But notwithstanding this circumstance, the moment General Scott had determined to hold his great council with the Indians, he informed the two prisoners that they must come in-and they did not hesitate to do so. They repaired among the first Indians to the American encampment. The reader will be pleased to hear that they were ultimately acquitted--though one of them had to pledge himself to attend as a witness against another Indian, who was charged with murdering the whites. This duty, too, he fulfilled, though at much inconvenience to himself. Yes, I've lov'd thee long and dearly, Thro' the storms of grief and woe; Seem as shadows cold to me; Give me back the bower forsaken, Where my soul first flew to thee. Lady! all nature 1 ooks out 1 ovely now, In A SINGULAR PROCLAMATION.--The following singular anti-lunarian rescript was publicly and in due form announced by the bellman, through the streets of Armagh, a short time since: "The inhabitants of Armagh are requested to take notice, that in consequence of the uncertainty of the weather, the eclipse of moon, which was to have taken place this evening, is postponed by order, until the full moon in October, of which due notice will be given." FALSEHOODS are Pindar's razors, made to sell. Truth a Damascus blade, made to shave-and nothing shaves so keenly. THIRD VERSE. 'Tis not wealth, nor fame, nor slendor, That can wean my heart from thee; "Tis not glances warm and tender, That can change the truth in me. No; the heart once rudely broken By the blasts of grief and pain, Though the lips of joy have spoken, Cannot throb with life again. A CHURCH YARD DIALOGUE.-A. An excellent discourse brother B. Very close and searching, I thought. B. It was indeed. Did you observe how he pronounced the word righteous. A. No, I did not, but I thought he gave an admirable picture of the righteous man. B. Most excellent. I never heard the word pronounced in three syllables before. A. And then that appeal to false professors near the close- B. Was truly eloquent: I did not like, however, that posture when he covered his face. A. I hope I shall never forget the sermon. I applied it all to myself. B. So did I. I felt it deeply. I was only sorry that he should use the verb progress in one of his finest passages. A. I am sure I did not observe it. I was too much overwhelmed with what he said. B. I too. I could scarcely hold my head up till he got into that fit of coughing. By the bye, he spits too much. A. Perhaps he does; but I can easily put up with that in such a preacher. B. So can I. O yes, I make no manner of objection to his spitting, any more than to his taking out his watch, or his saying firstly, or to his slapping the Bible, or his leaning on the pulpit, or his A. Brother B. If I may ask so bold a question, are you in the habit of criticising every sermon thus? B. Criticising? You mistake me altogether. I disprove of criticising sermons on the Sabbath. A. I should think you would profit very little by the soundest preaching. B. There again you are mistaken. I derive great benefit from sanctuary privileges. But still I like to see every thing done decently and in order. That reminds me of a mistake Mr. X. made in quoting Scripture What! are you going? A. Yes, good morning.-[Presbyterian. What is that which is above all human imperfections, and yet shelters the weakest and wisest, as well as the wickedest of all mankind?-A Hat. |