did, were foiled in the chase by the numerous ways and turnings in the earth, communicating with each other so as to afford easy means of escape. Indur delighted much in this secure and social life, and taking a mate, was soon the father of a numerous offspring. Several of the little ones, however, not being sufficiently careful, fell a prey either to hawks and crows continually hovering over the warren, or to cats, foxes, and other wild quadrupeds, who used every art to catch them at a distance from their holes. Indur himself ran several hazards. He was once very near being caught by a little dog, trained for the purpose, who kept playing round for a considerable time, not seeming to attend to the rabbits, till, having got near, he all at once darted into the midst of them. Another time he received some shot from a sportsman who lay on the watch behind a hedge adjoining the warren.

The number of rabbits here was so great, that a hard winter coming on, which killed most of the vegetables or buried them deep under the snow, they were reduced to great straits, and many were famished to death. Some turnips and hay, however, which were laid for them, preserved the greater part. The approach of spring renewed their sport and pleasure, and Indur was made the father of another family. One night, however, was fatal to them all. As they were sleeping they were alarmed by the attack of a ferret, and running with great speed to the mouth of their burrow to escape it, they were all caught in nets placed over their holes. Indur with the rest was despatched by a blow on the back of the neck, and his body was sent to the nearest market-town.

His next change was into a young mastiff, brought

up in a farmyard. Having nearly acquired his full size, he was sent as a present to a gentleman in the neighbourhood, who wanted a faithful guard for his house and grounds. Indur presently attached himself to his master and all his family, and showed every mark of a noble and generous nature. Though fierce as a lion whenever he thought the persons or properties of his friends invaded, he was as gentle as a lamb at other times, and would patiently suffer any kind of freedoms from those he loved. He permitted the children of the house to lug him about, ride on his back, and use him as roughly as their little hands were capable of, never, even when hurt, showing any displeasure further than by a low growl. He was extremely indulgent to all the other animals of his species in the yard; and when abroad, would treat the impertinent barking of little dogs with silent contempt. Once, indeed, being provoked beyond bearing, not only by the noise, but by the snaps of a malicious whelp, he suddenly seized him in his open mouth; but when the bystanders thought that the poor cur was going instantly to be devoured, they were equally diverted and pleased at seeing Indur go to the side of a muddy ditch, and drop his antagonist unhurt into the middle of it. He had, however, more serious conflicts frequently to sustain. He was accustomed to attend the servant on market-days to the neighbouring town, when it was his office to guard the provision cart while the man was making his purchases in the shops. On these occasions the boldest dogs in the street would sometimes make an onset in a body; and while some of them were engaging Indur, others would be mounting the cart and pulling down the meat baskets. Indur had much ado to defend himself and the baggage

too; however, he never failed to make some of the assailants pay dearly for their impudence, and by his loud barking he summoned his human fellowservant to his assistance in time to prevent their depredations.

At length his courage was exerted on the most important service to which it could be applied. His master, returning home late one evening, was attacked near his own house by three armed ruffians. Indur heard his voice calling for help, and instantly flew to his relief. He seized one of the villains by the throat, brought him to the ground, and presently disabled him. The master in the meantime was keeping off the other two with a large stick, but had received several wounds with a cutlass, and one of the men had presented a pistol, and was just on the point of firing. At this moment Indur, leaving his vanquished foe on the ground, rushed forward, and seizing the man's arm, made him drop the pistol. The master took it up, on which the other robber fled. He now advanced to him with whom Indur was engaged, and fired the pistol at him. The ball broke the man's arm, and thence entered the body of Indur, and mortally wounded him. He fell, but had the satisfaction of seeing his master remain lord of the field; and the servants now coming up, made prisoners of the two wounded robbers. The master threw himself by the side of Indur, and expressed the warmest concern at the accident which had made him the cause of the death of the faithful animal that had preserved his life. Indur died, licking his hand.

So generous a nature was now no longer to be annexed to a brutal form. Indur, awaking as it were from a trance, found himself again in the happy region he had formerly inhabited, and re

commenced the innocent life of a Brachman. He cherished the memory of his transmigrations, and handed them down to posterity, in a relation from which the preceding account has been extracted for the amusement of our young readers.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered,

weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door;

"Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door,

Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah! distinctly I remember it was in the bleak

December,

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow, vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow-sorrow for the lost Lenore,

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,

Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me-filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,

"Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;

Some late visitor entreating

chamber door,

entrance at my

This it is, and nothing more.'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

'Sir,' said I, 'or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the truth is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you ;' here I opened wide the door,

Darkness there, and nothing more.