out by the lily-pads according to the sinuous fantasies of their growth. My saurian, when he desires to sleep, has but to lie down anywhere: he will find marvelous mosses for his mattress beneath him; his sheets will be white lily-petals; and the green disks of the lily-pads will straightway embroider themselves together above him for his coverlet. He never quarrels with his cook, he is not the slave of a kitchen, and his one housemaid — the stream-forever sweeps his chambers clean. His conservatories there under the glass of that water are ever and without labor filled with the enchantments of strange under-water growths; his parks and his pleasure-grounds are bigger than any king's. Upon my saurian's house the winds have no power, the rains are only a new delight to him and the snows he will never see. Regarding fire, as he does not employ its slavery, so he does not fear its tyranny. Thus, all the elements are the friends of my saurian's house. While he sleeps he is being bathed. What glory to awake sweetened and freshened by the sole careless act of sleep! Lastly, my saurian has unnumbered mansions, and can change his dwelling as no human householder may; it is but a fillip of his tail, and lo! he is established in another place as good as the last ready furnished to his liking. For many miles together the Ocklawaha is a river without banks, though not less clearly defined as a stream for that reason. The swift, deep current meanders between tall lines of trees; beyond these, on each side, there is water also, a thousand shallow rivulets lapsing past the bases of multitudes of Araghada Sujiting, and the sonant te hot milent to the sle of Ha Alim prays Chery pane sites fer fra mL I food fra land of kinodes willer PUT heat in expanse and Mahometan pirates Farm --pommined, hoping for a fresh Crusade a reoper Fidy Reparte hap, and in the meantime Suffingh Gmini na the protectors and ares of he All the Mediterranean Sea was infested by corsairs From the African cost and the Greek isles, and the free knights, becoming sailors as well as all they had been before, placed their red flag with its white cross at the masthead of many a gallant res that guarded the peaceful traveler, hunted down he cruel pirate, and brought home his Christian ave, rescued from laboring at the oar, to the Hosital for rest and tendance. Or their treasures were ased in redeeming the captives in the pirate cities. No knigh of St. John might offer any ransom for himself e his sword and scarf b for the of their poor fellow-stians, their ready, and many a pure released ing in Algiers or wing the pirate resto tra t ho t th and whether it were a crocodile or a serpent is uncertain. There is a reason to think that the monsters of early creation were slow in becoming extinct, or it is not impossible that either a crocodile or a python might have been brought over by storms or currents from Africa, and have grown to a more formidable size than usual in solitude among the marshes, while the island was changing owners. The reptile, whatever it might be, was the object of extreme dread; it devoured sheep and cattle, when they came down to the water, and even young shepherd-boys were missing. And the pilgrimage to the chapel of St. Stephen, on the hill above its lair, was especially a service of danger, for pilgrims were believed to be snapped up by the dragon before they could mount the hill. Several knights had gone out to attempt the destruction of the creature, but not one had returned, and at last the Grand Master, Helion de Villeneuve, forbade any further attacks to be made. The dragon is said to have been covered with scales hat were perfectly impenetrable either to arrows r any cutting weapon; and the severe loss that counters with him had cost the Order, convinced he Grand Master that he must be let alone. However, a young knight, named Dieudonné de Gozon, was by no means willing to acquiesce in the lecree; perhaps all the less because it came after he had once gone out in quest of the monster, but had returned, by his own confession, without striking a blow. He requested leave of absence, and went home for a time to his father's castle of Gozon, in Languedoc; and there he caused a model of the like certainty, that, obscurely as he journeyed now, a glory was to beam on all his pathway,— though not, perhaps, while he was treading it. But when posterity should gaze back into the gloom of what was now the present, they would trace the brightness of his footsteps, brightening as meaner glories faded, and confess that a gifted one had passed from his cradle to his tomb with none to recognize him. The roar of a blast, had grown broad, deep, and terrible, before the fated group were conscious of it. The house and all within it trembled; the foundations of the earth seemed to be shaken, as if this awful sound were the peal of the last trump. Young and old exchanged one wild glance, and remained an instant, pale, affrighted, without utterance, or power to move. Then the same shriek burst simultaneously from all their lips. "The Slide! The Slide!" The simplest words must intimate, but not portray, the unutterable horror of the catastrophe. The victims rushed from their cottage, and sought refuge in what they deemed a safer spot-where, in contemplation of such an emergency, a sort of barrier had been reared. Alas! they had quitted their security, and fled right into the pathway of destruction. Down came the whole side of the mountain, in a cataract of ruin. Just before it reached the house, the stream broke into two branches-shivered not a window there, but overwhelmed the whole vicinity, blocked up the road, and annihilated everything in its dreadful course. Long ere the thunder of the great Slide had ceased to roar among the mountains, the mortal agony had been endured, and the victims were at peace. Their bodies were never found. The next morning, the light smoke was seen stealing from the cottage chimney up the mountain-side. Within, the fire was yet smouldering on the hearth, and the chairs in a circle round it, as if the inhabitants had but gone forth to view the devastation of the Slide, and would shortly return, to thank Heaven for their miraculous escape. All had left separate tokens, by which those who had known the family were made to shed a tear for each. Who has not heard their name? The story has been told far and wide, and will forever be a legend of these mountains. an ni' hi late, destroy. fe lic' i ty, happiness. in clem' en cy, severity of weather. pe des' tri an, one who journeys on foot. poster' i ty, descendants. sim' ul ta' ne ous ly, at the same time. FROM A RAILWAY CARRIAGE. ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. (From "A Child's Garden of Verses.") Faster than fairies, faster than witches, Fly as thick as driving rain; And ever again, in the wink of an eye, |