favourite Peregrines as his companions across the Atlantic. It was his constant habit during the voyage to allow them to fly every day, after feeding them up, that they might not be induced to rake off after a passing sea-gull, or wander out of sight of the vessel. Sometimes their rambles were very wide and protracted; at others, they would ascend to such a height as to be almost lost to the view of the passen. gers, who soon found them an effectual means of relieving the tedium of a long sea-voyage, and naturally took a lively interest in their welfare; but as they were in the habit of returning regularly to the ship, no uneasiness was felt during their occasional absence. At last, one evening, after a longer flight than usual, one of the falcons returned alone; the other, the prime favourite, was missing. Day after day passed away, and however much he may have continued to regret his loss, Captain Johnson had at length fully made up his mind that it was irretrievable, and that he should never see her again. Soon after the arrival of the regiment in America, on casting his eyes over an Halifax newspaper, he was struck by a paragraph announcing that the captain of an American schooner had at that moment in his possession a fine hawk, which had suddenly made its appearance on board his ship during his late passage from Liverpool. The idea at once occurred to Captain Johnson that this could be no other than his much prized falcon; so, having obtained immediate leave of absence, he set out for Halifax, a journey of some days. On arriving there, he lost no time in waiting on the commander of the schooner, announcing the object of his journey, and requesting that he might be allowed to see

the bird; but Jonathan had no idea of relinquishing his prize so easily, and stoutly refused to admit of the interview, 'guessing' that it was very well for an Englisher to lay claim to another man's property, but 'calculating' that it was a ‘tarnation sight' harder for him to get possession of it; and concluding by asserting in unqualified terms his entire disbelief in the whole story. Captain Johnson's object, however, being rather to recover his falcon than to pick a quarrel with the truculent Yankee, he had fortunately sufficient self-command to curb his indignation, and proposed that his ownership of the bird should be at once put to the test by an experiment, which several Americans who were present admitted to be perfectly reasonable, and in which their countryman was at last persuaded to acquiesce. It was this: Captain Johnson was to be admitted to an interview with the bird-which, by the way, had as yet shown no partiality to any person since her arrival in the New World, but, on the contrary, had rather repelled all attempts at familiarity—and if at this meeting she should not only exhibit such unequivocal signs of attachment and recognition as should induce the majority of the bystanders to believe that he really was her original master, but especially if she should play with the buttons of his coat, then the American was at once to waive all claim to her. The trial was immediately made. The Yankee went up stairs, and shortly returned with the falcon; but the door was hardly opened before she darted from his arm, and perched on the shoulder of her beloved and long lost protector, evincing by every means in her power her delight and affection, rubbing her

head against his cheek, and taking hold of the buttons of his coat, and champing them playfully between her mandibles, one after the other. This was enough. The jury were unanimous. A verdict for the plaintiff was pronounced: even the obdurate heart of the sea-captain was melted, and the falcon was at once restored to the possession of her rightful owner.

OUR VISIT TO THE ISLE OF MAN.

VOYAGE TO THE ISLAND.

THE next morning's sun arose, as it had done for several days before, in an unclouded sky, bright and glorious. We arose early, as we made a resolution before we went to bed on the previous evening, that we would not spend any more of our money in the hotel where we were then staying. They wanted so much of it-more than we felt either able or willing to pay. One of our friends led us there, or we should not have gone.

It was too grand and costly in its style for either our pocket or our taste. Charges for "attendance," ," "wax candles," and we know not what, were things which we had read of in "the pages of the Times,' but hitherto we had avoided such penalties, and were now determined to escape from them as quickly as we could.

So packing up our luggage, we were soon on board the ferry-boat-steamer, which in a few minutes landed us on the pontoon wharf at Liverpool; and leaving our luggage in secure custody, we walked up into the town and enjoyed a hearty

breakfast, which was all the more agreeable, because the charge for it was fair and moderate.

I shall not be able to stop and tell you about this great town of Liverpool, with its wide river and large docks full of ships from all parts of the world-its vast warehouses and grand buildings-its spacious streets, splendid shops, and crowds of bustling people, all busy as bees in a hive. But

I will tell you about one thing. In Liverpool, as in other great towns, there are many poor as well as many rich people, and as usual many poor children. After breakfast I walked out on the pavement to look about me, and was soon surrounded by several boys with brushes and blacking, every one of whom begged me to let him clean my boots.

You will remember that we had escaped from the expensive hotel over the water as soon as we could, and had not waited for boot-cleaning there, though we always regard it as necessary to neatness of appearance. The lads, it seems, soon spied out this imperfection; and I, wishing to encourage them in their attempts to get a honest penny, held out my foot to one of them, who with a rapidity and a dexterity that quite amused me, soon performed the operation, giving my outward appearance a finish which it had before wanted. I mention this, because I wish to encourage such poor boys in trying to earn their daily bread. And for this reason, had my boots not required polishing, I believe I should have held out my foot for a brush.

I have mentioned our wish to save expense. Let not my young readers think that I ought not to mention that. I think I ought. I know that so long as they do not work for the money they spend, but look to their fathers and mothers to supply it, young people do not know its value. But fathers and mothers who have to work for money know how hard it is to get it; and this will make them careful how they spend it. And one thing I know, that money goes very fast indeed if you do not take care. Young people do not always think about such things. They are like the simple little boy who, when his mother talked about dying and leaving them, said, "Well, mother, if you do die, you will leave us your pocket, wont you?" He thought his mother's pocket had no bottom, and they should do well enough if they only had it.

The Steam-packet for the Island was to start at eleven