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KNEWSTUB, W. J.-337.

574, 687, 710.

LUCAS, H.--447.

MORTEN, T.-141, 603.
PASQUIER, J. A.-98.

PINWELL, G. J.-26, 586, 713, 699, 713.
PRITCHETT, R. T.-253, 255, 362, 98,
399, 449, 513.

SKELTON, P. J.-169, 309.

LAMONT, T. R.-294, 378, 434, 546, SLINGER, F. A.-113, 182, 462, 491,

519, 549.

SULMAN, T.-1, 163, 197, 225, 226, 227,
281, 282, 283, 389, 291, 477, 479, 606,
607, 671.

WOLF, J.-350.

MISCELLANEOUS.-83, 279, SS5, 426,
427, 514, 543, 654, 657, 658, 683.

DIAGRAMS.-288, 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-the 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 ship, and strong;

The captain sends a cheering word
Th' affrighted crew among.

The waves beat wild upon the ship,

And howling blows the wind;

And the crew can read in the captain's face

The anguish of his mind!

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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:

No. 261.

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

And bring thee safe to shore;

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 prayed thus;
But loud the wind did rage,

And the awful anger of the sea
Did not with dawn assuage.

The second night he prayèd 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 prayed 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 bonnie 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 sighs, his burdened boat he drew
Upon the desolate shore-

A rugged coast, a belt of sand,
A cavern dark and dree,

With sea-mews sending, as they wheel'd,
Their cries across the 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.

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 from the cliff,
And quarried marble fine,

They hew'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'd
Like the gleams on her golden hair!

And there the chapel, to this day,

Braves the rough storm-wind well, And proves the vow fulfill'd, I trow, To good Saint Gabriel!

MY FIRST DEAL IN HORSE-FLESH.

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 will say. Is it fair now, sir, that you men-folk should keep all the muscular Christianity to yourselves, and not spare a little bit to the women-folk?"

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This was touching me hard, so I gave in at

once.

"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

thirty-five guineas, will be perfectly destroyed by the moths, unless it is taken out and worn; so, you see, the cost of the horse will be more than saved, after all."

I did not see the cogency of the argument, it is true; but who ever thought of arguing with Beaty when she looked you through with her large and fathomless violet eyes? At least, not her papa; and possibly another, one of these days, will feel inclined to forget his logic also.

Beaty was as good as her word. One morning, at breakfast, she came running up with the Times, and, throwing herself down on her knees, in the old cuddling, irresistible fashion, exclaimed,

"I've found him! I believe my 'good fairy' has put this advertisement in on purpose to please me ;" and she began to read,—

BE SOLD, a HORSE OF GREAT BEAUTY,

is a beautiful Bay, with Black Legs, by Emelius, perfectly quiet to ride and drive, and has carried a Lady. Apply, before 10 a.m., at Mews.

"There, papa, if you are a good boy, you shall have a ride sometimes; and he will do for pic-nics, and to drive you over to Grimsby, when that tiresome old vicar always wants you to do duty for him. Did you ever hear of such a perfect animal ?”

Softly, Miss Beatrice," I said; afraid all this is too good to be true. be quite satisfied if he carries you."

"I am I shall

"Now then, dear papa, see that you go early, as such an animal is sure to be snapped up directly in London, where a good horse is always worth his money."

I took the morning-train the very next day, after many injunctions that I must on no account let the "horse of great beauty" slip through my fingers. I arrived at the mews in estion at the appointed time. It was situated in a very quiet and respectable neighbourhood, and was in itself a very orderly-looking place. Why do grooms take such pride in the windows of their sleeping-rooms? Every other window that I looked at was fenced in with a mimic five-barred gate, the palings painted white, and the five-barred gate green. No doubt, these are but expressions of the country taste of the country-bred lads who come up to town to seek their fortunes, and sink down into the cunning grooms one meets with at the corners of streets in May Fair, plotting treason against their masters with the corn-chandler. I asked in vain, for a long time, for the handsome horse, but no one seemed to know anything about him. At last I was told to apply at a particularly quiet and orderly-looking stable, where my informant told me he had "heerd of

such a hoss" as I was looking for. Accordingly I knocked, but there was no answer. Tired of repeatedly knocking, I at last took the liberty of opening the door and walking in. The only person visible was a venerable-looking groom, who was engaged in cleaning a horse. "Wis'ss, wis'ss, wis'ss," went the rheumatic old man, either not hearing ine enter or not deigning to take any notice of me, whilst intently engaged upon his duties. He was dressed in an old purple plush waistcoat, with old silver buttons with a crest upon them, and his neck was incased in a neatly-pinned white cravat. Evidently he belonged to some old household, where a certain traditional dress was maintained, even reaching to the stable-man. There was something in the old man that spoke of better days, and I was at once prepossessed in his favour. At last, as he took no notice of me, I went up closer to him, and asked if that was the horse advertised in the Times for sale; but the only response that he made was the same "wis'ss, wis'ss, wis'ss," his body bent quite double. At last, thinking he might be deaf, I slapped him gently on the back, on which he slowly rose up to his full height, adjusted his footing in a rickety manner, and exclaimed,

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Yes, sir, they be, worse luck, and I wish I was going to be sold wi' 'em," and immediately renewed his eternal "wis'ss, wis'ss, wis'ss," as though he considered it an intrusion on my part to interrupt him in his duties.

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Come," I said to myself, "I must mollify this crusty, sterling old retainer, or I shall get nothing out of him. He evidently takes me for a Cockney. I tried what effect a shilling would have upon him, and immediately found that his country bluntness was no proof against the charm; in fact, he became quite communicative.

Yes, gemman," he said, resuming for good his upright position, as well as his rheumatics would let him, "all these 'ere hosses in this stable is to be sold, and, as I said before, I wish I was going to be sold wi' 'em. They have all been under my hands ever since they was foaled. They are, or was, the property of Squire Hall, in Northamptonshire, God bless him. He has now been dead three months, and his hosses was as much to him as his own childer. They tells me as how he left it in his will that they was all to be sold without reserve, by his dear old friend, Squire but they was only to go

of

into good hands. If a good home was offered to 'em, the price was to be no consideration. He was a merciful man to his beasts, was t'ould squire."

The old man, like an old horse, began to

warm to his work, and he took me round the stables, with that peculiar loose hobble, grooms somehow seem to acquire in the stable.

may have him as long as they like, to try 'un, and if they don't like 'un, they have only to bring'un back and have their money."

Nothing could be more straightforward. "When will Squire be here," I in

"Ah! that were the master's own hoss," he exclaimed, affectionately patting an old hunter," and this 'ere one carried the missus; quired. she were 66 a rare comely lady, and wanted some good stuff to be up to her weight, she did; and this was the pony that the young squire as was to be, used to ride, only he died; and poor master, he took on so about it, I do believe it was the death on him."

Well, sir, I did hear tell that he had to attend a Bible meeting, at Exeter Hall, and that he might look in as he came by, about one; but, Lord bless'e, sir, they kind of gemmen as goes to the hall don't take no count of 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.

"Ah! sir," he said, "now you have hit it. I see you baint a bad judge of hosses. I see this ain't the first time you have had to do wi' 'em."

"Well," thought I to myself, "if this excellent old man wants to be sold with the lot, I won't object. He's just the sterling trustworthy old man I would like to trust my Beaty to."

It would almost seem as though the old servitor divined my thoughts, for he said,

"Ain't he handsome as paint, sir? That was he as carried Miss Grace, she as is dead and gone now, sir, wi' her first babe. Lord, sir, the whole village used to come out to see Miss Grace a-riding, and I scarcely knowed which looked the handsomest, she or this 'ere hoss;" and the old man rubbed his eyes with his sleeve.

I stopped for a moment, and whilst I appeared to be busy looking over the animals, I was thinking to myself what a wide difference there was between servants. Here was an old fellow, as rough and as dry, to all outward appearance, as the bark of a tree, yet as tenderhearted as a child. What a contrast, I thought, to the "spick-and-span-new" grooms of the present day, whose only thought is, how they can do the animals out of their oats! There can be no doubt here, I thought, of the rare service of the antique world. This is one of the good old servants we used to hear our fathers talk about.

To return to business, however, the "horse of great beauty" was in a loose box, which showed off his points to perfection. He was a small horse, splendidly groomed, and in superb condition. He was, in short, the ideal horse for my Beaty; and I flattered myself that she would look quite as becoming upon him as Miss Grace.

"I suppose Squire will allow a trial and give a warranty with him," I said, carelessly, and as a mere matter of form.

"In course," said the old man; "the conditions is, that anybody that is likely to suit

Besides, sir, he don't much care about selling this 'ere one, as he thinks he has a friend who will take the lot."

"Very well, John," I said, liking the look of the affair more and more, "I will be here at one."

At the appointed time I was at the stable, and, fortunately, the squire looked in.

He saw me, but took not the slightest notice of my presence, but conversed with the old groom in an undertone, and was evidently giving some directions to him about one of the animals. He was on the point of going away, when the old groom hinted to me that that was the squire, and if I had anything to say I had better make haste, as he was off again to an afternoon prayer-meeting at the hall.

Having apologised for my intrusion, I at once explained the object of my visit ; and, as I did so, I could not help remarking the appearance of the squire and executor. He was dressed in black, and wore a white cravat, with an old-fashioned deep frill to his shirt, and gave me the idea of belonging to one of the learned professions—either a clergyman or physician of the old school; there was a leanness about his face, too, which gave him the air of an ascetic, but that his nimble eyes somewhat belied that character.

The principal gave me the same story about the horses as the old groom. He should be glad to get them off his hands, if he could find a good master for them; and, really, he knew very little about horses, and the charge of them interfered with business on which he had come up to town, which, he gave me to understand, was to attend the May meetings. At the same time, he felt it a duty to attend to the last wishes of his old friend, who was, he thought, a little sentimental about his horses, but these little weaknesses were just the things that ought to be respected. He said this very carelessly, as though he were talking to himself rather than to me.

Everything was so fair and above-board, that I determined to conclude the deal at once.

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