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“Mrs. Smith

My Grandfather's Narrow Escape: 143
My First Deal in Horse-Flesh

My First Two Days on the Grouse


Night Train. By the

Nile, Sailors of the

No Ghost

Northern Wedding, A

OAKBURN, LORD.-See Lord Oak-

Odenwald and Lindenfels, Tic : 197
Olaf, Sir

Old 'Church at Great Yarmouth
Old Wit

One Hour

Our Bet

Our Farms and our Farmers

Our Furniture .

Pacific, Islands in the .

Painter-Stainers’ Exhibition, The 34
Palmer, The French

Palmerstou, Lord

Parsonage, tho Country. 191
Pear, The

Peep' at some islands in the rest
ern Pacific, A

Pendine, Legend of the Bleeding
Cave at

Perfect General Secretary, The 530
Philip Fraser's Fate

57, 85
Pbotography, A new Era in.


Piercing the Alps .


Plant, Biography of a

Plants, Daily Life of .

Poetical Barber, A.

Poisoning by Tobacco

Police and Mechanism of Railway
Trains, The .



Savoy, The

SAJLORS of the Nilo
690 Una, the Moon-Fay

St. Alban's

St. David's .

St. Eloi, The Shrine of

WATERLOO and Wellington

St. Gabriel's, Legend of

Wasters, Human

St. Vitus, Legend of

Wedding, A Northern


Weibertrou and Weinsberg

Wellington, The Duke of

Sea, By the

Whaler Fleet, The

Secretary, The Perfect General 530

Whaling at the Cape de Verdes

Sempstress, The Mechanical. 295, 448

“What is my Love Like?"



Who was the Executioner of King
Sewing Machine, The

298, 418
Charles the First?



Shrine of St. Eloi, l'ho


Sibyl, The Cumaan

Windows of the Soul, The

Silver Arrow, Tho

Wit, Old.

Sir Olaf

Wolfe, Charles

501, 572
Skedaddlers from tho Northern Work of Time, The


"Slave or Free?"


Smith, Mrs.

225, 281
Social Evil, A Real

Yarmouth, Church at

Stage Hamlet, The

Steve Lidyard's Adventure 219 | ZOFFANY, J.



SULMAN, T.-1, 163, 197, 225, 226, 227,

.81, 282, 283, 389, 391, 477, 479, 606,

BARNES, R -29.

LUCAS, H.--447.
BURTON, W. S.--14, 210, 688.
DU MAURIER, G.--57, $5.

MORTEN, T.-141, 603.
ELTZE, F.–70, 112, 235, 266, 322, 406, PISWELL, G. J.—26, 586, 713, 699, 713.

607, 671.
WOLF, J.-350.

597, 722.
FAIRFIELD, A. R. -42, 154, 558, 631. PRITCHETT, R. T.-253, 25), 362, 95,
FROLICH, L.-659, 661.

399, 419, 513.
GREEN, C.-126.
KNEWSTUB, W. J.-337.

SKELTON, P. J.-169, 309.
LAMONT, TR.-294, 378, 434, 546, SLINGER, F. A.–113, 182, 462, 491,
574, 687, 710.

519, 549.

MISCELLANEOUS.-83, 279, 835, 420,

427, 514, 543, 654, 657, 658, 683.

DIAGRAMS.-285, 567, 689.

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The ruins of the little chapel of St. Gabriel's, which bear testimony to the truth of, at least, some part of the following legend (well known amongst the country people of the neighbourhood), are still to be found in a parish of the same name, situated at the foot of Golden Cap-tbe highest of a range of beautiful cliffs bordering the coast of Dorsetshire, between Lyme Regis and Bridport :

The waves beat high about the ship,

A goodly sbip, and strong ;
The captain sends a cheering word

Th' affrighted crew among.
The waves beat wild upon the ship,

And bowling blows the wind;
And the crew can read in the captain's face

The anguish of his mind !

She beareth weight of precious freight,

Of gold and gems good store ;
She beareth Bertram and his bride

Back to old England's shore. O captain, give me the ship's small boat !”

Young Bertram loud he cried ; Oh! give me straight the ship's small boat,

To save my fair young bride!”
“I will not give thee the ship's small boat,

To sink in such a sea ;
For, be thy bride or drown'd or saved,

Ye shall not part from me."
O captain, change that cruel word,

For the ship is lost I wot;
But the little boat may rise and float

Where the vessel riseth not."
The captain look'd at the broken ship,

He look'd at the lady pale,
He heard the roaring of the sea,

The howling of the gale :

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No. 261. He kneel'd him down on the barren rock,

With his face toward the sea ; "O Gabriel ! send me help, to keep

The vow we vow'd to thee!"

And while he spake, from far and near

The people of the land Came running o'er the bleak sea-shore,

Across the ribb'd sea-sand :

They lifted the lovely lady high,

As in the boat she lay ;
They bare her up the pathway steep,

Nor rested by the way ;
They took the granite froin the cliff,

And quarried marble fine,
They bew'd, they built from night to morn,

And raised a goodly shrine ;
They made an altar, and beneath

They laid the lady fair,
And lighted there a lamp that gleam'il

Like the gleams on her goldeu bair !
And there the chapel, to this day,

Braves the rough storru-wind well, And proves the vow fulfill'd, I trow,

To good Saint Gabriel !


Ay, take the boat, and the saints thee save,

And bring thee safe to sbore;
For of crew and captain never a man
Shall live to tread it more !

! "
Then Bertram took his bride in his arms;

Into the boat leapt he ;-
But the waves dragg'd down the doomèd ship,

To the prison-house of the sea !
The ship's small boat rides well, rides well,

Over the waves so high ;
The lady she trembles and weeps for fear,

And moans with piteous cry. "Oh ! hush thee,” Bertram said, “dear love,

And pray our Lord,” quoth he ; “Pray good St. Gabriel send us help

In this necessity !”
Then he aloud, and she at heart,

The self-same words they spake, -
“Oh ! save us, Christ, as thou didst save

On Galilea's lake!
“Oh ! save us, Gabriel, saint adored !

And still this raging sea ;
And wheresoe'er the boat be cast

We'll raise a shrine to thee,-
“A beauteous altar, gold bedeck'd,

Where night and morn shall shine
A silver lamp, to tell to all

This gracious deed of thine."
And through the night he prayèd thus ;

But loud the wind did rage,
And the awful anger of the sea

Did not with dawn assuage.
The second night he prayed thus;

And as he closed each prayer,
His bride grew pale, and wrung her hands,

And wept in dire despair !
The third night that he prayèd thus,

His voice was weak and worn ;
But stars on high gemm'd all the sky,

And calmly broke the morn.
" Now praise we good St. Gabriel,

My bopnie bride and I !
My dearest love, so still and pale,

Why dost thou silent lie ?”
He kiss'd her lips, he call'd her name,

But answer gave she none;
He wept aloud with bitter cry, -
“Dear love ! my life is gone!”
He spied upon th' horizon clear

A line of unknown land,
And knew that the gently flowing tide

Would drift them to the strand.
And ere the sun had sunk behind

The waste of watery store,
With sighg, his burdened boat he drew

Upon the desolate shore-
A rugged coast, a belt of sand,

A cavern dark and dree,
With sea-news sending, as they wheeld,

Their cries across tbe sea.
He paced the belt of red-ribb'd sand,

He clomb the rugged cliff;
He look'd below on his pale, pale bride,

And on the broken skiff.

WHEN the Pet began to kneel and use her beseeching eyes, I knew full well that, although I may pretend to make a fight, the battle was really finished.

“But," I said, “I really don't think, Beaty, that it's quite consistent in a country parson's daughter to go scampering about the country on horseback. You know how censorious people are. There are the Misses-"

Pet put her hand upon my mouth at once, tossed back the bush of golden, silken hair from either cheek, and held up her finger,

“Now, that is all nonsense, papa dear ; besides, you know you are always talking about Mr. Kingsley and the value of muscular Christianity, and plunder his ideas for Sunday use sometimes,” she said, screwing up her violet eyes in the most comical manner;

and now you have an opportunity of putting these ideas in practice, you put me off with what the Misses

Is it fair pow, sir, that you men-folk should keep all the muscular Christianity to yourselves, and not spare a little bit to the women-folk ?”

This was touching me hard, so I gave in at

will say.


“But supposing, Beaty, we could find you this fancy steed you talk about--"

“Supposing, papa !—there is no supposing about the matter. All you are asked to do, is to find the money, and I'll find the dear delightful little horse—so that's settled. And, you know, it will be a positive saving, papa ; for that beautiful habit of mamma's, which cost


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thirty-five guineas, will be perfectly destroyed such a hoss” as I was looking for. Accordby the moths, unless it is taken out and worn ; | ingly I knocked, but there was no answer. so, you see, the cost of the horse will be more Tired of repeatedly knocking, I at last took than saved, after all.”

the liberty of opening the door and walking in. I did not see the cogency of the argument, The only person visible was a venerable-looking it is true ; but who ever thought of arguing groom, who was engaged in cleaning a horse. with Beaty when she looked you through with “ Wis'ss, wis'ss, wis'ss,” went the rheumatic old her large and fathomless violet eyes? At least, man, either not hearing ine enter or not deignnot her papa ; and possibly another, one of ing to take any notice of me, whilst intently these days, will feel inclined to forget his logic engaged upon his duties. He was dressed in also.

an old purple plush waistcoat, with old silver Beaty was as good as her word. One morn- buttons with a crest upon them, and his neck ing, at breakfast, she came running up with was incased in a neatly-pinned white cravat. the Times, and, throwing herself down on her Evidently he belonged to some old household, knees, in the old cuddling, irresistible fashion, where a certain traditional dress was mainexclaimed,

tained, even reaching to the stable-man. There " I've found him ! I believe my 'good was something in the old man that spoke of fairy' has put this advertisement in on purpose better days, and I was at once prepossessed in to please me ;” and she began to read,

his favour. At last, as he took no notice of

me, I went up closer to him, and asked if that To

late the property of a deceased Gentleman. He was the horse advertised in the Times for sale; is a beautiful Bay, with Black Legs, by Emelius, per- but the only response that he made was the fectly quiet to ride and drive, and has carried a Lady.

same “wis’ss, wis'ss, wis’ss," his body bent Apply, before 10 a. m., at Mews.

quite double. At last, thinking he might be “ There, papa, if you are a good boy, you deaf, I slapped him gently on the back, on shall have a ride sometimes ; and he will do which he slowly rose up to his full height, for pic-nics, and to drive you over to Grimsby, adjusted his footing in a rickety manner, and when that tiresome old vicar always wants you exclaimed,to do duty for him. Did you ever hear of such Yes, sir, they be, worse luck, and I wish a perfect animal ?"

I was going to be sold wi' 'em," and immedi« Softly, Miss Beatrice,” I said ; “I am ately renewed his eternal “wis'ss

, wis'ss, wis's," afraid all this is too good to be true. I shall as though he considered it an intrusion on my be quite satisfied if he carries you.”

part to interrupt him in his duties. “Now then, dear papa, see that you go Come,” I said to myself, “I must mollify early, as such an animal is sure to be snapped this crusty, sterling old retainer, or I shall get up directly in London, where a good horse is nothing out of him. He evidently takes me always worth his money."

| for a Cockney. I tried what effect a shilling I took the morning-train the very next would have upon him, and immediately found day, after many injunctions that I must on no that his country bluntness was no proof against account let the "horse of great beauty" slip the charm ; in fact, he became quite comthrough my fingers. I arrived at the news in i municative. question at ihe appointed time. It was situated Yes, gemman,” he said, resuming for in a very quiet and respectable neighbourhood, good his upright position, as well as his rheuand was in itself a very orderly-looking place. matics would let him, “all these 'ere hosses Why do grooms take such pride in the windows in this stable is to be sold, and, as I said beof their sleeping-rooms ? Every other window fore, I wish I was going to be sold wi' 'em. that I looked at was fenced in with a mimic They have all been under my hands ever since five- barred gate, the palings painted white, 'they was foaled. They are, or was, the proand the five-barred gate green. No doubt, perty of Squire of Hall, in Norththese are but expressions of the country taste amptonshire, God bless him. He has now of the country-bred lads who come up to town been dead three months, and his hosses was as to seek their fortunes, and sink down into the much to him as his own cbilder. They tells cunning grooms one meets with at the corners me as how he left it in his will that they was of streets in May Fair, plotting treason against all to be sold without reserve, by his dear old their masters with the corni-chandler. I asked friend, Squire but they was only to go in vain, for a long time, for the handsome into good hauds. If a good home was offered horse, but no one seemed to know anything to 'em, the price was to be no consideration. about him. At last I was told to apply at a He was a merciful man to his beasts, was particularly quiet and orderly-looking stable, tould squire." where my informant told me he had “heerd of The old man, like an old horse, began to

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warm to his work, and he took me round the may have him as long as they like, to try'un, stables, with that peculiar loose hobble, grooms and if they don't like 'un, they have only to somehow seem to acquire in the stable.

bring'un back and have their money." “Ah ! that were the master's own hoss," Nothing could be more straightforward. he exclaimed, affectionately patting an old “ When will Squire be here," I inhunter, “and this 'ere one carried the missus ; quired. she were

a rare comely lady, and wanted “ Well, sir, I did hear tell that he had to some good stuff to be up to her weight, she attend a Bible meeting, at Exeter Hall, and did ; and this was the pony that the young that he might look in as he came by, about squire as was to be, used to ride, only he died ; one; but, Lord bless’e, sir, they kind of gemand poor master, he took on so about it, I do men as goes to the hall don't take no count of believe it was the death on him."

hoss-flesh ; and all he cares about is, that they And this one,” said I, espying the bay shall get into some kind hand as likes hosses. with the black legs.

Besides, sir, he don't much care about selling “ Ah! sir,” he said, now you

have hit it. this 'ere one, as he thinks he has a friend who I see you baint a bad judge of hosses.

will take the lot." this ain't the first time you have had to do wi' “Very well, John,” I said, liking the look 'em.”

of the affair more and more, “I will be here “ Well,” thought I to myself, “ if this ex- at one.” cellent old man wants to be sold with the lot, At the appointed time I was at the stable, I won't object. He's just the sterling trust- and, fortunately, the squire looked in. worthy old man I would like to trust my He saw me, but took not the slightest notice Beaty to.

of my presence, but conversed with the old It would almost seem as though the old groom in an undertone, and was evidently servitor divined my thoughts, for he said, - giving some directions to him about one of

Ain't he handsome as paint, sir ? That was the animals. He was on the point of going he as carried Miss Grace, she as is dead and away, wben the old groom hinted to me that gone now, sir, wi' her first babe. Lord, sir, that was the squire, and if I had anything to the whole village used to come out to see Miss say I had better make haste, as he was off Grace a-riding, and I scarcely knowed which again to an afternoon prayer-meeting at the looked the handsomest, she or this 'ere hoss ;”

ball. and the old man rubbed his eyes with his Having apologised for my intrusion, I at sleeve.

once explained the object of my visit ; and, as I stopped for a moment, and whilst I ap- I did

So, I could not help remarking the peared to be busy looking over the animals, I appearance of the squire and executor. He was thinking to myself what a wide difference


was dressed in black, and wore a white cravat, there was between servants. Here was an old with an old-fashioned deep frill to his shirt, fellow, as rough and as dry, to all outward and gave me the idea of belonging to one of appearance, as the bark of a tree, yet as tender- the learned professions—either a clergyman or hearted as

a child. What a contrast, I physician of the old school ; there was a leanthought, to the “ spick-and-span-new” grooms ness about his face, too, which gave him the of the present day, whose only thought is, how air of an ascetic, but that his nimble eyes they can do the animals out of their oats ! | somewhat belied that character. There can be no doubt here, I thought, of the The principal gave me the same story about rare service of the antique world. This

the horses as the old groom.

He should be of the good old servants we used to hear our glad to get them off his hands, if he could fathers talk about.

find a good master for them; and, really, he To return to business, however, the “horse i knew very little about horses, and the charge of great beauty” was in a loose box, which of them interfered with business on which he showed off his points to perfection. He was a had come up to town, which, he gave me to small horse, splendidly groomed, and in superb understand, was to attend the May meetings. condition. He was, in short, the ideal horse At the same time, he felt it a duty to attend for my Beaty ; and I flattered myself that she to the last wishes of his old friend, who was, would look quite as becoming upon him as he thought, a little sentimental about his Miss Grace.

horses, but these little weaknesses were just I suppose Squire will allow a trial the things that ought to be respected. He and give a warranty with him," I said, care- said this very carelessly, as though he were lessly, and as a mere matter of form.

talking to himself rather than to me. “ In course," said the old man ; "the con- Everything was so fair and above-board, ditious is, that anybody that is likely to suit that I determined to conclude the deal at once.


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