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3. A party of twelve men went ashore to attack the enemy, hand to hand, but only four of that gallant little party finally escaped, after most extraordinary and perilous adventures.

4. And now the firing ceased. The women and children-one hundred and twenty-five in number—who were still alive, were brought ashore and carried in forlorn procession back again through the town. They were bedraggled and disheveled, these poor Englishwomen; their clothes were in tatters; some of them were wounded, and the blood was trickling from their feet and legs. They were led into a small building and locked up there, except when some of them were taken out in the evening and set to the work of grinding corn for the use of their captors.

5. But Havelock was now moving forward from Allahabad with six cannon and about a thousand English soldiers. He was almost at the gates of Cawnpore when it was intimated to the prisoners that they were to die. Among them were three or four men. They were called out and shot. Then some sepoys were sent to the house where the women still were, and ordered to fire volleys through the windows. In the evening, five men-two Hindoo peasants, two Mohammedan butchers, and one wearing the red uniform of Nana's body-guard-were sent up to the house, and entered it. Incessant shrieks were heard to come from that fearful house. The Mohammedan soldier came out to the door holding in his hand a swordhilt from which the blade had been broken off, and exchanged his now useless weapon for a new one. Twice this performance took place.

6. The task imposed on these men was evidently hard work for the sword-blades. After a while the five men came out of the now quiet house, and locked the doors

behind them. During that time they had killed nearly all the English women and children. They had slaughtered them like beasts in the shambles. In the morning the five men came to clear out the house of the captives. Their task was to tumble all the bodies into a dry well beyond some trees that grew near. Then it was seen by some of the spectators that certain of the women and children were not yet quite dead. Of the children, some were alive, and even tried to get away. But the same well awaited them all.

7. Some witnesses were of opinion that the Nana's officials took the trouble to kill the still living, before they tossed them down into the well; others do not think they stopped for any such work of humanity, but flung them down just as they came to hand, the quick and the dead together. At all events they were all deposited in the well. Any of the bodies that had clothes worth taking were carefully stripped before being consigned to this open grave.

8. When Cawnpore was afterward taken by the English, those who had to look down into that well saw a sight the like of which no man in modern days has ever seen elsewhere. The well of horrors has been filled up, and a memorial chapel, surrounded by a garden, built upon the spot. It was right to banish all trace of that hideous crime, and to replace the house and well by "a fair garden and a graceful shrino." JUSTIN MCCARTHY.

historian, and Member He has been a very proHis writings are full of

Justin McCarthy, journalist, novelist, of Parliament, was born in Cork in 1830. lific writer and a very successful one. thought and his thoughts are clothed in harmonious, smooth, and appropriate language. He is to-day one of the foremost men in Ireland, and in politics is a pronounced Nationalist.

Cawnpore is one of the principal military stations in India, about one hundred miles northwest of Allahabad on the west bank of the

Ganges, which here separates the Northwest Provinces from the province of Oude. The Ganges (1) is a river nearly 2000 miles long, flowing from the Himalaya Mountains to the Bay of Bengal, India.

Sir Henry Havelock (5), eminent as an English general, was born in 1795. He served with distinction in several wars. During the Mutiny in India he defeated Nana Sahib, took Cawnpore, and afterward relieved Lucknow, where he died in 1857 of cholera. Allahabad (5), the capital of the Northwest Provinces, India, situated at the junction of the Ganges and the Jumna, is considered sacred by the natives. It was held by English troops at the time of the massacre of Cawnpore.


1. a ēʼri al; a. belonging to the | 4. O' vẽr whělm'; v. immerse air. and bear down.

1. spī' ral; a. winding like a


3. bru’In; n. a bear.

3. se rěn' I ty; n. undisturbed


5. mŏn'o ehrō' mist; n. one
who paints in a single color.
pŏl ý chrō'le; a. given to
the use of many colors.
7. riv'u lěts; n. small rivers.


An Iceberg.

1. We have just passed a fragment of an iceberg that bore the resemblance of a huge polar bear reposing upon the base of an inverted cone, with a twist of a sea-shell, and whirling slowly round and round. The ever-attending green water, with its aerial clearness, enabled us to see its spiral folds and horns as they hung suspended in the deep. 2. The bear, a ten-foot mass in tolerable proportion, seemed to be regularly beset by a pack of hungry little swells. First, one would take him on the haunch, then whip back into the sea over his tail and between his legs. Presently a bolder swell would rise and pitch into his back with a ferocity that threatened instant destruction. It only washed his satin fleece the whiter.

3. While Bruin was turning to look the daring assailant in the face, the rogue had pitched himself back into his cave. No sooner that, than a very bulldog of a billow would attack him in the face. The serenity with which the impertinent assault was borne was complete. It was but a puff of silvery dust, powdering his mane with fresher brightness. Nothing would be left of bull but a little froth of all the foam displayed in the fierce onset. He too would turn and scud into his hiding-place.

4. Persistent little waves! After a dash, singly, all around, upon the common enemy, as if by some silent agreement under water, they would all rush on at once, with their loudest roar and shaggiest foam, and overwhelm poor bear so completely that nothing less might be expected than to behold him broken in four quarters, and floating helplessly asunder. Mistaken spectators! Although, by his momentary rolling and plunging, he was evidently aroused, yet neither Bruin nor his burrow were at all the worse for all the wear and washing.

5. The deep fluting, the wrinkled folds and cavities. over and through which the green and silvery water rushed back into the sea, rivaled the most exquisite sculpture. And Nature not only gives her marbles, with the finest lines, the most perfect lights and shades, she colors them also. She is no monochromist, but polychroic, imparting such touches of dove-tints, emerald, and azure as she bestows upon her gems and skies.

6. We are bearing up under the big berg as closely as we dare. To our delight, what we have been wishing and watching for is actually taking place: loud explosions, with heavy falls of ice, followed by the cataract-like roar, and the high, thin seas, wheeling away beautifully crested with sparkling foam. If it is possible, imagine the effect upon

the beholder: this precipice of ice, with tremendous cracking, is falling toward us with a majestic and awful motion.

7. Down sinks the long water-line into the black deep; down go the porcelain crags and galleries of glassy sculptures, a speechless and awful baptism. Now it pauses, and returns up rise sculptures and crags streaming with the shining white brine; up comes the great encircling line, followed by things new and strange, crags, niches, balconies, and caves; up, up it rises, higher, and higher still, crossing the very breast of the grand ice, and all bathed with rivulets of gleaming foam. Over goes the summit, ridge, pinnacles, and all, standing off obliquely in the opposite air. Now it pauses in its upward roll: back it comes again, cracking, cracking, cracking, "groaning out harsh thunder" as it comes, and threatening to burst, like a mighty bomb, into millions of glittering fragments. The spectacle is terrific and magnificent. Emotion is irrepressible, and peals of wild hurrah burst forth from all.

8. As we recede the upper portions of the solid ice have a light and aerial effect, a description of which is simply impossible. Peaks and spires rise out of the strong and apparently unchanging base with the light activity of flame. A mighty structure on fire, all in ice!


Great floating masses of ice become detached from the polar icefields, and form "icebergs." These bergs or mountains of ice are sometimes more than 250 feet above the sea-level, and it is calculated that the part of the berg below the surface is eight times that of the protruding part.

The talent of success is nothing more than doing what you can do well without a thought of fame.

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