"It is a sweet scene," I remarked, after we had sat surveying one object after another for some time in silence.

'It is," he said, thoughtfully, and without turning his head-" it is; the more so that the waters seem almost as if they were sleeping in the sunset-but I have seen, in my day, many a different sight even here. Where, now, there seems scarce enough wind to swell the canvas of that little fishing craft, as she drops outward with the tide, I have seen many a large bark helplessly embayed-every sail and every spar blown away, and herself thrown a complete wreck upon the sands. Where, now, there seems scarcely a ripple on the deep, I have seen a sou'-westerly wind bring the waves rolling in as high almost as the rock we sit upon. "There was one day, especially, that I shall never forget. It was a day fraught with sad recollections to all the west coast of Great Britain-a day that many a widow and orphan never speaks of, even now, without a sigh.

"A gale of nearly a week's duration had maddened the ocean into fury. I was but a boy then, but I well remember climbing up here, and with a few others, gazing with silent awe on the scene beneath us. Now and again, the strong gusts would render it difficult for us to keep our footing on the cliff; while the salt spray passed over us as it was borne along upon the wind. Those low, black rocks, which you see now dry at cbb-tide, were then one mass of foam; for, impatient at the least resistance, the waves boiled around and burst over them, as if they would wash them away. Evening was closing in, and the storm seemed to rise even more fearfully as night came on. We returned homewards, heavy at heart, for we thought of the lives at the mercy of the elements, and put up a silent prayer for their safety.

anxiously together. Ever and anon one of the party would turn round, sweep the horizon momentarily with his glass, and shaking his head, join eagerly again in the conversation."

"They were, surely, not expecting any arrival on a night of that sort," I interrupted; "every thing that could carry canvas would have run for shelter hours before.

6

"They were, indeed," rejoined my companion. "I soon learnt, on mixing with them, that one of their best boats-and I may add, one of their best crews also—had gone across the water' as they termed it, some days past, for a contraband cargo, and that she was expected to run it that night at high tide, in a cove just at the outside of this headland. Preventive men were little known in those days, and the few there were were stationed so far off that they were little to be feared; but it was the elements, not man, that struck terror to the heart that night."

"But in weather such as that," I said, "and in such a sea as you describe, it would have been impossible for any small craft to have lived."

"Aye, but they did, though," he answered. "The Mary Jane and her crew were not ones to run for port if the spray broke over her bows, or she keeled over to leeward; but while canvas stuck to the yards, and planks held together, she would hold her own with the biggest and best of them. To make her more buoyant, they were accustomed to lash the kegs along her gunwales, and then nothing could sink her. I have seen her come in thus, at one moment apparently going down bow foremost, and at the next, shaking the water off her on the top of a wave, so well was she handled.

shore, and the breakers on this exposed coast so formidable, that it appeared to be certain destruction to even the most skilfully managed craft to approach. Anxious then were the glances that were turned sea ward; and anxious every look, as the night was fast closing in, and the storm increasing.

"But I shall never forget one face I saw

among the crowd that night. It was the young wife of one of the crew of the expected boat, and she had been watching, from the earliest, with the rest. Heedless of the driving rain and wind, she stood with her eyes fixed on the horizon, eagerly scanning every object that might prove to be the coming sail. I, as a boy, had often heard Alice Lloyd spoken of as the pride of the village, but the weary watching of that evening had altered her strangely. Her long fair hair, usually so neatly braided, had partly escaped from her bonnet, and unheeded was hanging heavy with the rain. Her handsome features, careworn and pale, truly bespoke the anxiety of her heart; and her attire showed that her thoughts were otherwise engaged than in taking precautions against the inclemency of the weather.

"But how the colour flushed back into her cheek again, and her eye brightened when she discovered-and she was the first to do it-the merest speck far away at sea, coming in the looked-for direction, and when the glass declared it to be the Mary Jane! and how her spirits drooped again when she heard that it was impossible for the vessel to make land before night set in, and that in consequence of the sea that was on, she would not dare to come close in shore, at least, before day-break. Bitterly disappointed at this information, I saw her pass from one to another of the oldest and most experienced sailors, and try if their opinions did not differ, and whether there was not a chance of a landing being effected earlier than they anticipated. But they all shook their heads, told her that they hoped, indeed, that the boat's crew were too well acquainted with that coast in foul weather to venture near the beach before the morning, and kindly bade her go home and wait patiently a few hours longer, and all would be well. Darkness soon closed in, and the little crowd dispersed. One by one, each sought shelter and rest for a time, resolved to be astir at the first glimpse of dawn. Alice was the last to leave. She stood with tearful eyes, trying to penetrate the gloom that was gathering around, and to make out the well-known sail, but in despair. She suffered herself to be led away, and the beach was wholly deserted.

"There was many a sleepless eye in the

village that night. The storm reigned supreme. The wind came in squalls that threatened to unroof the cottages, and the surf broke upon the shore like thunder. For an instant, now and again, there seemed to be a pause, but it was only gathering strength, and again the tempest burst forth with renewed impetuosity. Boy as I was, I well remember that I could not sleep; hour after hour I went to the window, and tried to make out even the nearest objects, but all was impenetrable darkness. The casement rattled at each gust of wind, the house itself seemed to tremble as the billows broke upon the shingle, and the rain poured down the dark and deserted street, as if the sea had passed its usual bounds, and was flooding the village."

"It must indeed have been a terrible night," I said, "too terrible to realise on such a sweet evening as this; but you know the old proverb, All's well

"That ends well,'" he added, smiling sadly. "Well, at the very first streak of dawn, I left home. But I was not the only one stirring. From the excitement visible even already, some news had evidently arrived. I stopped one who was hurrying past me; he had heard a rumour that the Mary Jane had driven ashore during the night, and had gone to pieces, and he was proceeding to inquire into the truth of it. I accompanied him. In breathless haste we ascended the little path that brings us from the village here. Arrived on the summit, not many yards from where we are now sitting, we could look down upon the other side of this headland, and there, as far as the grey morning light would permit us, saw what seemed a confirmation of our worst fears. We soon descended. As we reached the shore, a scene presented itself to our view which few who saw it ever forgot.

"Near to the water's edge, and apparently lifeless, lay poor Alice. The few villagers who had reached the beach were collected around her, trying, in their simple way, to resuscitate her; while, amid the breakers, and not more than two hundred yards from where they stood, appeared what we soon recognised to be the shattered hull of the ill-fated Mary Jane. For a moment the waves would seem to fall away from her sides, as if shrinking at the desolation they had wrought; then, again, they would

close in one mass of hissing foam over her, as if to hide the deed for ever. A few shattered spars were floating here and there, and some of her cargo was strewn along the sands; but there was no trace to be seen of her crew, nor was it scarcely possible that if, as was evident, she had got among the breakers, on such a night any could have saved themselves."

66

'But with their knowledge of the dangerous character of the coast, the weather, and above all, with the good offing they might have kept," I said, "it seems inexplicable to me why they ventured near at all."

"And so it did to us," he continued. "We well knew that there were too good hands on board to let her drift in shore, or get among the broken water, if seamanship could save her; but the sad truth was soon apparent, when poor Alice was sufficiently recovered to explain why those earliest come found her in a swoon on the beach.

"It seemed that the anxiety of her mind, rendering it impossible for her to rest, and scarcely, in her trouble, knowing what she was doing, she found her way in that dreadful night down to the shore, in the vague hope, she said, that the vessel might land her crew after all, Alone, she wandered over this headland, and down among the sheltered rocks on the beach, towards the cove

"But how," I interrupted, "could that in any way affect the safety of the boat?"

"Because," said he, "little thinking of the possible consequences, and intending to facilitate her progress, she had taken a lantern with her--'

"And the Mary Jane, seeing it on the shore, mistook it for a signal?

"Undoubtedly," he continued. "On a dark night like that, the light moving along that part of the shore was readily seen at sea, and whatever they may have understood it to betoken-whether that it was practicable to land there, or that they were expected to run in, and their companions were signalling them-certain it is, that they must have made for land at once. And poor Alice was turning her weary steps homeward again, battling her rough way amid the wind and rain, when, on a sudden, a cry reached her ear. It came, faintly, from the sea, scarce heard above the roaring waters. She stopped and listened. Again it echoed over the waves; it was a cry of terror!

"Then, in a moment, the truth flashed upon her mind. Dashing the lantern to the ground, she endeavoured to answer, but her voice was borne back to her again, and died away among the rocks behind her.

"Once more, and for the last time, that cry arose, it was wilder and more distinct, and she knew they must be among the breakers. There was no light-house on the point then, nor was it possible for them to make out what part of the shore they were on. She swooned away with terror, and only opened her eyes to see her husband's body dragged out of the surf, and to know that it was her sad act that had cost the lives of every one on board. Words cannot paint her sufferings! She knelt beside the corpse as it lay stretched upon the sand, and, addressing it as if it still breathed, spoke in language that brought, the tear to every eye. They led her gently homeward-the sad news had preceded her, and there was not a heart that did not feel deeply for her, nor scarce a tongue that did not try to speak consolation. But all seemed in vain; the violence of her grief changed to a settled sorrow that was wearing her away; she would sit for hours gazing on vacancy, and smile, as she felt she would soon follow him.

"It was just such another day as this has been that the only three bodies which were recovered were borne to the grave. Scarce a ripple broke the glassy smoothness of that sea so lately wild with storms, and the deep voice of the church bell, as it told of another soul departed, went floating away far upon the waters.

"And mournful was the procession that passed through our little street that day. Supported by her aged father, came the widow. They had tried all they could to persuade her to spare herself that last terrible scene, for they saw how unequal she was to it, but she would not hear them.

"We gathered around the grave-the voice of our minister faltered as he read the impressive service for the dead, and many sobbed aloud. Alice sank on her knees on the turf-there was no tear in her eye, for hers was a grief that tears came not to relieve her heart seemed bursting. Her bonnet had fallen back, and her still beautiful hair, unconfined, partly shaded her forehead.

"Those who stood near her bore her up,

"And they both sleep in the old churchyard yonder?" I inquired.

"They do," he said, "Down beside the Dorch you may see the green hillock beneath vhich they rest. Once a year the grave is strewn with summer flowers, and the rude ross at its head is wreathed with garlands n sad remembrance of that day; and the village children, as they stray among the tomb-stones, speak softly as they pass where sleep the drowned sailor and his bride, as if they feared they might awaken them."

THE GARDENER'S PRIVILEGES.-The question was once asked by a very beautiful woman, "Why is a gardener the most extraordinary man in the world?" The reply given was as follows:-Because no man has more business on earth, and he always chooses good grounds for what he does. He commands his thyme, he is master of the mint, and he fingers penny-royal. He raises his celery every year, and it is a bad year indeed that does not bring him in a plum. He meets with more boughs than a Minister of State, he makes more beds than the Queen of Spain, and has in them more genuine roses and lilies than are to be found at a country wake. He makes raking his business more than his diversion, but it is an advantage to his health and fortune, which few others find it. His wife, moreover, has enough of heart's-ease, and never wishes for weeds. Disorders fatal to others never hurt him; he walks and bustles, and thrives most in consumption; he can boast of more bleeding hearts than you can, and has more laurels than the Duke of Wellington; but his greatest pride, and the greatest envy of his companions, is, that he can have yew when he pleases,

THE WORK-TABLE FRIEND.

D'OYLEY No. 6.

No. 16 Evans's Boar's Head Cotton. No. 4 Penelope Hook.

1st Round.-13 chain, unite, * 9 chain, De under this circle, repeat from 7 times more, (in all 8 chains of 9), tie in a knot at the back, and cut off the cotton, which must be done at every row.

2nd Round.-7 L under the 9 chain, 5 chain, repeat.

3rd Round.-De under the 5 chain, 5 chain, Dc under same, 7 chain, repeat.

4th Round.-De into centre loop of the 5 chain, 13 chain, turn back, De into 9th loop from hook (this forms a circle), 1 chain, turn round on the finger, De under the circle, work 5 L, 3 Dble L, 1 chain, 3 Dble L, 5 L, De under same, 18 chain, repeat from again; then make 11 chain, and repeat from 1st * again, then 2 De down the stem, De into the circle of 2nd Berry, make 10 chain, repeat from 1st * again, De into the circle again, and De down the stem and into the circle of 1st Berry, then make 10 chain and repeat as last Berry, Dc down the stem and under the 5 chain, where the Spray was commenced; 9 Dc under the 7 chain, 1 chain, and to make the 2nd Spray of Berries repeat from beginning again; only after the 3 Dble L in the 1st Berry make 3 chain instead of 1 chain, and De into the 1 chain of last Berry of the last Spray; then 3 De under the 3 chain, then finish the Berry the same as in 1st Spray. For 2nd Berry repeat as before, only after the 3 Dble L make 7 chain instead of 1 chain, and De into the 1 chain of next Berry in last Spray; now finish the other Berries also as in last Spray.

5th Round.-De into the 1 chain on the top of the Berry at a point, 9 chain, 1 L on 1st of the 3 Dble L on next Berry, 9 chain, 1 L into 5th Dc of the 9 Dc, 9 chain, 1 L on last of the 3 Dble L in next Berry, 9 chain, repeat from *.

6th Round.-Dc on the Dc at the point of the Berry *, 9 chain, 1 L on L, repeat from * twice more, 9 chain, repeat from beginning.

7th Round-The same as last round, only making 10 chain instead of 9.

8th Round.-10 Dc under every 10 chain. 9th Round.-Begin on a De stitch over a L stitch, make 27 chain, (turn back) 1 L

into the 7th loop, 2 chain, 1 L into 3rd loop, 2 chain, 1 Dble L into 3rd loop of 2 chain, 1 Dble L into 3rd loop, 2 chain, 1 Dble L into 3rd loop, 2 chain, 1 L into 3rd loop, 2 chain, 1 L into 3rd loop, 2 chain, De into last loop, 1 chain, turn round on the finger, Dc under the 1st 2 chain, 3 L under same, 3 L under next 2, and 3 L under next 2; now 3 Dble L under each of the 3 next compartments, 3 L under next compartment, 5 L under the chain at the point, 3 chain, 5 more L under same; now work down the side of the leaf the same as just completed after the last 3 L, make a De under the same, 2 chain, then 10 Dc

over the De till the next L stitch or De stitch over the point of the Berry, make 27 chain and repeat another leaf, (but after the 1st 3 Dble L, unite with 6th Dble L of the leaf last made.)

THE BALMORAL NECK TIE, IN CHIN CHILLA COLOURS.

No. 6 Knitting Pins; Chinchilla Colour and White or Black 4-thread Berlin Wool, 6 skeins of the darkest shade, 5 of the second shade, 3 of the third, and 7 white.

Cast on 100 stitches in the darkest shade, and knit and pearl alternately 9 rows, then join on the white and knit and pearl alter.