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While these events were going on, Barney had not been idle. The mysterious beggar had kept his appointment with him, but the thief had declared that Mr. Capel would not listen to the application, and had refused to give him any money. "Very well," said the beggar, coolly
companion who enticed Gregory to visit sent for. Accordingly Frank was called the shop of Mrs. Margaret Mallalieu. into the room, and the letter shown to him, After several weeks, Gregory and Sam were upon which he stated positively that the heard of at Portsmouth, and with the con-writing was no other than that of his father's sent of their friends, means were taken to clerk, the now rich Mr. Capel. The authorapprehend them, that they might be restored ship of the anonymous letter having been without delay to their homes. This was thus established unexpectedly to all parties, effected, and Samuel Oliver and Gregory Mr. Harvey suggested that Barney should Homespun found themselves again in Lon- be arrested forthwith, and that he be indon, in the second week of July. They had formed that a letter had been received from suffered great privations during their ab- Mr. Capel, charging him with being the sence from their parents, and learned that leader of the rioters in Marton Fields. "there is no place like home." At first they were unwilling to communicate the history of their interview with Barney; but Gregory was soon induced, by the kind demeanour of Mr. Keen, to make a full statement of the case, which was confirmed by Samuel Oliver his companion. Upon a consultation with a lawyer of considerable"you must learn how to make Mr. Capel practice in the criminal courts, and with Wynne, the detective officer, it was not considered desirable to arrest Barney at once, though it was believed that the testimony of the boys was sufficient to convict him of the theft of the jewels which had been removed from Parker's body. The officer stated that his attention had been directed to Barney by an anonymous letter, and that through an acquaintance of the thief, he had obtained information that The next evening came, but Barney was Barney was in possession of facts which not at the appointed place. The man were far more valuable than those they crouched in his old situation, and waited now sought to establish. If, he added, he for several hours, as the crowd of debauched could obtain a clue to the writer of the and besotted creatures passed in and out of letter to which he alluded, he had reason the garish light of the gin-shop. He asked to believe that he could unravel a very and took alms for a while, but as the hope extraordinary mystery, which had hitherto of seeing Barney grew more faint, his defeated his skill, and that of his fellow-savage anger appeared to overcome all other detectives. He went on to say that he considerations, and he sat in the corner of knew that Barney had the keeping of some the door with set teeth and clenched fists, important secret, which, when intoxicated, the emblem of a revengeful spirit, The he declared he was paid to keep, and that, revelries and quarrellings of the scene moreover, the person who paid him had reached their height towards midnight, tried to get him hanged. The officer had when the beggar, having well nigh got from hence formed the conclusion, that the mingled up with a drunken broil, suddenly person who had written the anonymous disappeared. He walked towards the Marine letter which he had received was the crimi- Store Shop, and seeing a dim light within, nal, and that if he could trace the letter stepped aside, and pushed the door open he could trace the crime, and the crime, he suspected, was the murder of Parker. The letter was produced, and Mr. Keen immediately stated his belief that it was the handwriting of Mr. Capel. As, nevertheless, he did not profess to be quite confident, he requested that Frank Meanwell should be
pay, or I must teach you. I shall be at the vaults above to-morrow night, and shall require some money to be paid to me there. There is no answer required. Good night!" and so saying, the mysterious visitor turned away from Barney, who began already to think that he had made a mistake in cheating him. But the hag encouraged the young thief in his dishonesty, and Barney determined still to withhold the money.
Upon the rickety counter in the shop was a stone bottle, in the neck of which a candle, with laden wick, burned low, but with sufficient light to show that no person was in the shop. The beggar listened for a moment on the door-step, and hearing voices, in the of e room beyond, the doo
which was closed, he made bold to step for-
narrowly, and stealthily followed him along the ways which he took to avoid observation, till he entered a dirty shop in the district of St. Giles's. To be assured that this was not a mere house of call, the beg gar watched the door till daylight was streaming in the streets, and till he saw the Jew who had visited Barney appear, and act as the master of the establishment for the sale of second-hand clothes.
opening it, to pass out, when a bar which
door upon him. (The beggar watched him
Though revenge was the feeling uppermost in the beggar's mind, he was too avaricious to gratify his anger by sacrificing certain golden visions which had been floating before him with reference to Mr. Capel, until he had fully satisfied himself that they were hopes which could never be realised. With the purpose of discovering whether Barney had actually deceived him, he sought an interview with Mr. Capel. But this was a matter of great difficulty. Since the sharebroker's unpleasant interview with Barney, Mr. Capel had taken most studious precautions to prevent a repetition of such visits, and directed the youth in the office to deny him to every person who was not known, or who did not present a card of address. Several weeks passed before the mysterious beggar had any opportunity of speaking to the wealthy man, and in the interval the latter had discovered that he was watched by other parties, who, he believed, belonged to the police establishment of the City of London. Being in danger of being arrested as a vagabond, he made bold to address Mr. Capel in the street, saying he was sent by Barney, upon which the enraged broker gave the beggar into custody, and he was
He refused to
give any name, and was placed in a cell to await the decision of the magistrate on the following day; when it was expected by the officers that he would be committed as
of the outer door, and was in the act of a rogue and a vagabond. The prisoner several times requested that he might be allowed to see and speak with one of the superior officers, but as it was not the custom to forward such messages, the beggar was compelled to remain in durance vile till the evening, when a knowledge of the circumstances came to the ears of Mr. Wynne, who immediately directed the prisoner to be brought into his presence. Resentment had all other considerations, and the beggar resolved to
wreak his vengeance upon Barney and Capel. From the statements made by the prisoner, the detective officer found that he could complete the links of evidence in a most important case, and upon the information thus obtained, he took steps for the arrest of the Irishman, Mrs. Mallalieu, and the sharebroker, on that very night.
when the very grasshoppers seemed to pause in their chirping for lack of breath, and to sigh for the cooling dew. The odours from the merry hay-field lost their freshness, and the breath of the sweet-scented vernal grass was changed by its mixture with the stagnant and sulphureous atmosphere. The pimpernel, and convolvulus, went prematurely to rest; and the speedwell, drooping and trembling, cast its blue coronets aside. The dog-rose, and the poppy too-unshaken by a breeze-let fall their petals, and the lime-tree and clematis seemed to deny their fragrance to the few bees which still lingered out from the crowded and anxious hive. The birds seemed hushed with expectation, and a strange stillness hung in the air. The fruit-trees were deserted by the robber wasps, the ants crowded at home: no beetle sounded his horn, nor moth fluttered against the
be fraught with danger to him-when the pealing thunder shook the house and redoubled his fears. He rose from the couch to close the window, which had been left open on account of the oppressive heat, and was about to put his purpose into execution, when, in the singular stillness which prevailed after the echoes of the thunder had ceased, he fancied that he heard his name 11entioned by some persons in the street below, and stopped with his hand upon the sash to listen. There appeared to be three persons on the opposite side of the street, two of whom which was the residence of Mr. Capel? inquired from the third if he knew surely The latter, having replied, passed on, leaving the two inquirers standing together. A flash of lightning, which, in its excessive brightness, made everything look white as molten silver, the second afterwards, flooded the sky, and showed to the watchers the listening sharebroker at the window. And what did it show to Mr. Capel? Staggering, blinded-less by the lightning than what he thought he saw, he stretches out a he is unable to reach, and falls helpless, as strengthless hand towards a chair, which a man paralysed, upon the floor.
"The dead risen to life!" he faintly muttered, as he lost his consciousness.
The storm had indeed burst. Mr. Capel's hopes had been shattered, and on recovery from his swoon, he asked no questions, but suffered himself quietly to be led away to the office, where, as he was
thirsty leaves, or against the dusty window-shown up into the presence of Mr. Wynne,
he caught a glimpse of Barney and Mrs.
The heat of the day had been oppressive, and as the shades of evening came down upon the sky, nature seemed to groan under the burden of the murky air. was one of those sultry nights peculiar to JULY,
"Tis listening fear and dumb amazement all:
When to the startled eye the sudden glance
Mr. Capel was tossing on his restless bed, disturbed by the thoughts of his own insecurity-Barney's power-who the beggar might be--and whether the arrest which he had so hastily authorized, might not
BOOK-SHELVES.-To give some idea of the extent of the new portion of the library of the British Museum, it has, as a point of useful information, or perhaps also as a matter of curiosity, been ascertained that the whole length of the shelves, which hold 260,000 volumes, is 42,240 feet, or eight miles. The length of the shelves in the library at Munich, containing 500,000 volumes, taking the same proportion, will be fifteen miles and two-fifths. The king's library in Paris, of 650,000 volumes, must, by the same calculation, have twenty miles.
cluded the air from the surface of the pond, and the fish were suffocated-as was also the minnow in the boy's bottle. They died for want of air. But some of you reiterate the objection, that if fishes re
MY DEAR LITTLE BOYS AND GIRLS.quired air, they would live best where they had the most-namely, when taken out of the water. If you will give me your attention for a few minutes, I will endeavour to explain to you how it is that the breathing apparatus of the fish, though exquisitely adapted to act upon the air contained in water, becomes inefficient when exposed to dry air.
You will, perhaps, think it odd to inquire why fish die when they are taken out of the fluid in which they have hitherto lived? But this inquiry is one which will be useful to us, if, in seeking for the answer, we are led to a better acquaintance with any of GOD's wonderful works. George admits he is somewhat puzzled; but Kate, and Sarah Anne, and Joe, have given a ready answer; but the readiest reply is often the most erroneous, and hasty conclusions are seldom in accordance with truth. And so it is in this instance. George says he does not know, and is determined to inquire further; while some of the rest of my young audience, like many older heads, having got hold of a plausible answer, are satisfied with it, and examine the matter no more. Kate and her party say that the fish dies for want of water, and they laugh at their grandpapa for expressing an opinion that it dies for want of air. Grandpapa must be joking," say they; "because a fish has more air than it ever had when it is taken out of the water, so it can't die for want of breath."
In one of my earliest lectures I told you the story of a boy who caught a little minnow, and put it into a bottle, in which it lived very comfortably for a short time; but that one day its young keeper corked the bottle for a while, upon which the little fish quickly died. It has been observed, moreover, that if the mouth of the globe in which gold fishes are confined is covered with varnished silk, and the surface of the water thus excluded from the air, that the fish soon manifest signs of uneasiness, and shortly afterwards die. It is related that some wicked men once stole a large quantity of oil from a gentleman's warehouse, and hid the barrels, in which the liquid was contained, by sinking them in some fishponds in the vicinity. The oil escaped, and, floating, spread itself as a thin layer over the surface of the pond, and in a few hours afterwards a large number of the fish were found to be dead. The oil ex
Fishes breathe by their gills-those curious bright red fringes which lie under the plates on each side of their head. These organs correspond to our lungs, and decompose the air exposed to them in the current of water taken in at the mouth,
and pushed back through the openings at the side of the neck. If you watch the gold fish in the globe yonder, you will find that they are constantly opening and shutting their mouths-in fact, breathing. While the water containing air is thus driven past and between the blood-vessels of the gills, the blood is forced into these organs by the action of the heart, which is constructed upon the most perfect form of a force-pump, and which it will be worth our while to understand before we proceed further. We will take for the subject of our description that form of heart which is found in MAN, because the simpler forms will be easily understood after you have learned how wonderful, and yet how simple a machine is constantly working away in your own breasts.
The HEART is an organ consisting of four chambers, or cavities, which are closed by the same kind of force which enables you to move your arms, legs, or feet. If you stand upon your toes, the calves of your legs will be found to be hardened, owing to the contraction of the muscles which form that part of the body, and which extend the foot. Hence such motions are said to depend upon muscular power. The sides of the cavities of the heart are, in like manner, pressed together by the contraction of the muscles of which the heart is formed. is, in truth, a muscular bag, with four divisions in it, dividing it into four smaller sacks. A ring of muscle surrounds the mouth, and enables you to hold a pencil
firmly between the lips; and the same power squeezes the blood from the heart in the manner which I will presently explain.
The blood goes out from the left side of the heart as a bright red, and is conveyed in strong elastic pipes, made of a substance like leather, to the various parts of the body. These pipes, being usually found [empty after death, were supposed by the ancient anatomists to be adapted only to convey air; hence they gave them the name of air-pipes, or arteries. From the arteries the bright-red blood passes into smaller vessels (arranged in a very minute network), which, from their fineness, have been named capillaries (from the Latin word signifying a hair). During its passage through these exceedingly small vessels, the blood loses its bright colour, and assumes a darker hue as it is pressed on into the veins, which return it to the right side of the heart from thence it is expelledstill dark in tint to the lungs, where it comes in contact with the oxygen of the air, and, giving off carbonic acid gas, reassumes its bright arterial colour. From the lungs we trace the vital fluid back to the left side of the heart, from which we started, thus completing the circle of the system; hence the name given to this passage of the blood, viz., the circulation.
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The better to understand the construction of the heart, we will follow the blood through its cavities, commencing at the point where the dark blood of the veins, returning from the body, is poured into the right side of the organ, at g, in the diagram, to which I desire your attention. Here there is a dilatation of the vein, and its
Telug og sved do spaui 10 alliedT the pressure of the blood against them, as a door is slammed to by the wind. But the same pressure which closes these valves opens others in the direction of the tube f along which the dark blood is pushed. At the entrance of this vessel, moreover, there are valves which (as soon as the ventricle has ceased to contract, and opens to be
coats become muscular. From the appear-filled afresh from the auricle) are immeance of this dilatation when collapsed, it diately closed, and allow none of the conhas been compared to a dog's ear, and from tents of the vessel to pass back again. thence has been injudiciously called the The vital liquid, thus propelled along the auricle (from a Latin word signifying a pulmonary artery f, is distributed by the little ear). It is marked r a in the drawing, capillary, or hair-like pipes, through the indicating the name, right auricle. From the lungs, where it assumes its bright colour, right auricle, upon the contraction or and from which it is collected into the pul closing, of its muscular walls, the blood is monary vein (d), that delivers it through forced through an opening, (k,) into the the opening (f) into the third cavity, or cavity called the right ventricle (rv), so left auricle (a). The muscular walls of called from a Latin word signifying a little this organ, by contracting, squeeze the stomach, which it was supposed to resemble. blood forwards into the fourth cavity, or When this second muscular cavity con- left ventricle, through the opening (m) tracts, the blood might be expected to rush where valves again prevent its return. The back into the auricle, or first cavity; but left ventricle, in like manner, contracting, this is admirably provided against, by the pushes open the valve at the entrance
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