practically for their advancement. These things must be altered in the direction we have indicated, and then, and not till then, will Mechanics' Institutions become really and extensively useful in the education of the labouring classes.

the savings' banks, by being induced to combine together to club their small savings,-their pence, or half-pence, which would be otherwise spent, without procuring any permanent advantage. This point is well enforced and illustrated in a lately published letter from Mr. C. W. Sikes, of Huddersfield, to E. Baines, Esq., President of the Yorkshire Union of Mechanics' Institutions, from which we extract the following passages.

these institutions bear. They were intended for Mechanics; there was, of course, no objection, but rather the contrary, to the trading, middle, and upper classes mingling among them, helping to render them selfsupporting, and taking their fair share of the advantages and opportunities for enjoyment which they furnished; But there are other means which might be used for but, essentially, they were intended to be for the benefit attracting the workers to Mechanics' Institutions, and of artisans and labourers. It cannot be doubted that raising their social condition. These institutions might the hopes and expectations of their promoters have been be made the means of making their members first prosadly disappointed. There are, in such places, for ex-vident, and afterwards independent. They might be ample, as Chatham and Portsmouth, where large and made the agents of combating not only ignorance but organized bodies of labourers in the Government esta- poverty. The members might be introduced by them to blishments are collected together, a great number of real workers among the members of the Mechanics' Institutes; but, as a rule, they are in the hands of the middle classes; while the Mechanics are too often to be found at the beer-shop or the public-house. If you visit the lectures you will see a number of well-dressed people, among whom a fustian-jacket is a great rarity, and a smock-frock a thing never observed, witnessing some beautiful chemical experiments, or listening to a lecture on the literature of the day. If you peep into their reading-rooms, you may see the retired tradesman reading the newspaper, and the youths of respectable families glancing over the magazines. If you watch the library, you will see well-dressed ladies bringing in and taking out books, which they can get cheaper there than at the circulating library. If you observe the classes, you will discover the younger members laudably engaged in the study of languages, or geometry, or some branch of the mathematics. There is an unaccountable absence of Mechanics in these Mechanics' Institutions. So, too, if *you inquire respecting the composition of the committee by which an institution is governed, you will very seldom find that there is a majority of mechanics upon it; and, very often, there will not be a single operative.

"I venture to suggest a method hitherto untried, namely, that the humbler members of each Mechanics' Institution should be encouraged to transact a little business with a preliminary savings' bank within the institution, for which purpose some of the leading members might form a small 'Savings Bank Committee,' attending an evening weekly, to receive their trifling deposits-their threepences, their sixpences, and, perhaps, their shillings-giving each party a small book, and so soon as this sum has reached, say £2 2s., paying it over to the Government Savings' Bank of the town, in the person's name, and giving to him or her the new pass book. This to be repeated until another guinea be accumulated, to be again transferred, and so on.

"Were the committees suggested formed out of the more respectable persons of each institution, many a young tradesman,' or clerk, unable, perhaps, to give a brilliant lecture upon any scientific question, would yet be happy to render his services as cashier for the night, in enabling them to learn the more homely, but yet very useful art of making money plentiful in their pockets.'

Mechanics' Institutions either never have been, or have ceased to be, institutions for Mechanics, in the true sense of the word. They are Literary rather than Mechanics' Institutions; and, in some cases, this has been so strongly felt by the members, that the name has been altered accordingly. They have said, "This is not a Mechanics' Institution, the Mechanics do not support us; the name keeps many from joining, and we will call it the Literary Institution." The persons who think thus are not to be blamed; but, surely, there must be some cause, not only why the Mechanics do not support these institutions, but why they are not the very soul and life of them. This cause must be dis-functions of Building Societies, Burial Societies, and covered and counteracted before Mechanics' Institutions can become able to do their proper work.

It strikes us, that the committees of these institutions have failed of their real purpose by aiming too high, by attempting to do too much at once. We have not a word to say against scientific lectures, and the beautiful experiments by which they are illustrated, nor against dissertations upon the literature of the present and past ages; not a syllable to urge against the study of languages or mathematics. They are elevating and ennobling pursuits for those whose minds are prepared for them; but it strikes us that there is a sad want of that merely elemental and rudimentary teaching, which the uneducated classes require. There is a deficiency of the means of acquiring that sort of every-day, and practically useful knowledge, which they stand in need of. They would stare listlessly at a scientific exhibition, but would be interested in an address expounding to them the laws of physical health, and explaining the means of procuring social prosperity and domestic comfort. They do not care, as yet, nay, they are unprepared for Latin and French, and the higher branches of mathematics, while they would gladly receive, and be benefited by instruction in reading, writing, and arithmetic, and lessons which they could apply to their common life, and use

If such plans as these were acted upon, the waning star of Mechanics' Institutions would soon shine brighter than ever. As soon as they were found to be practically useful, their members, instead of falling off, would rapidly increase, and in time they would acquire sufficient might and power to absorb and perform in a better manner the

Benefit Clubs, which as now conducted, are too intimately connected with that fertile root of evil, "the drinking customs of our population, and consequently attended by demoralizing influences. Thus under one roof teaching the virtue and usefulness of providence, and affording the means for exercising it, and combating that ignorance of even the elements of education, which is so generally the companion of improvidence, Mechanics' Institutions would become a great national blessing as the means at once of cultivating the intellects, strengthening the morals, and advancing the social condition of large masses of our population. This is a consummation so devoutly to be wished, that we hope the valuable letter of Mr. Sikes, to which we have already referred, may be extensively read, and acted upon by the conductors of Mechanics' Institutions, and all who desire to see our national greatness founded upon its only steadfast basis-the happiness and true civilization of the people.

LIFE has been called a dreariness, and its duties heavy; but so it should not be. We should rejoice in our ability to go out into its warfare, and we should learn to make its path pleasant, its duties holy, joying ever in conquest over ourselves, and in the approval of a pure, unsullied conscience.

STANZAS WRITTEN ON A SPRING DAY.

On, let me bask amid the beams
That gild the May-day sod,
For I am dreaming happy dreams
Of Joy, and Love, and God.
A soft and sunny day like this
Brings back a thousand things;
To dance again with Elfin bliss
In Memory's fairy rings.

As fond Affection's words of might,
In secret fluid traced,

Exist unseen, till warmth and light
Before the scroll are placed;

So do the deep and mystic thoughts
Of pure devotion start

Into rich flow, as Nature's glow
Of sunshine meets my heart.

I hear loud, merry voices come
Of children out at play;
The music of that human hum
Is Earth's first poet lay.

It yields the notes that call me back
To many a kindred scene,

When my young steps and my young track
Were just as gay and green.

I recked not then what Fame or Gold
The world might have to give ;

While balls were flung, and hoops were trolled,
'Twas boon enough to live.

And while I hear glad shouting now
From Childhood's panting lips,

As Spring-rays steal, with radiant brow,
From Winter's dark eclipse;

I find my Spirit's hope become

As gleaming and as vernal,

For child and flower, with holy power,
Say, Beauty is eternal,"

So let me bask amid the beams

That gild the May-day sod,

For they are bringing happy dreams
Of Joy, and Love, and God.

ELIZA COOK.

VARIETIES OF BAD TEMPER.

DIAMOND DUST.

A STAR is beautiful; it affords pleasure, not from what it is to do, or to give, but simply by being what it is. It befits the heavens; it has congruity with the mighty space in which it dwells. It has repose-no force disturbs its eternal peace. It has freedom-no obstruction lies between it and infinity.

It is the best sign of a great nature, that it opens a foreground, and, like the breath of morning landscapes, invites us onward.

THE tear of sympathy never falls in vain. It waters and fertilizes the soil of the most sterile heart, and causes it to flourish with the beautiful flowers of gratitude and love.

WHEN thou speakest to another, look at the eyes; when another speaketh to thee, upon the mouth.

PASSIVE resistance may be compared to a snowball; the more you push it the greater it becomes.

THOSE who are incapable of shining but by dress would do well to consider that the contrast betwixt them and their clothes turns out much to their disadvantage.

SOCIETY has at all times the same want, namely, of one sane man with adequate powers of expression to hold up each object of monomania in its right relation.

. OLD women are fit for a number of things which young ones are incapable of performing, either from ignorance, or because they will not take the trouble.

SELF-EXAMINATION is the only true looking-glass.

HAVE the courage to appear poor, and you disarm poverty of its sharpest sting.

THE best discovery the discoverer makes for himself. IN trouble we often come off better than we expect. FLOWERS-the terrestrial stars that bring down heaven to earth, and carry up our thoughts from earth to heaven. A SYMPATHIZING heart is a spring of pure water bursting forth from the mountain side. Ever pure and sweet in itself, it carries gladness and joy on every ripple of its sparkling current.

BE not the fourth friend of him who had three before and lost them.

GREAT geniuses have the shortest biographies.

IN the midst of objects the fairest and the grandest, many are indifferent and insensible. Persons have lived in scenes that never moved them, which others have come from the ends of the earth to enjoy.

ENNUI-a French word for an English malady, which generally arises from the want of a want, and constitutes the complaint of those who have nothing to complain of. NEGRO-a human being treated as a brute, because he is black, by inhuman beings, and greater brutes, who happen to be white.

BAD temper is oftener the result of unhappy circumstances than of an unhappy organization; it frequently, however, has a physical cause, and a peevish child often needs dieting more than correcting. Some children are more prone to show temper than others, and sometimes on account of qualities which are valuable in themselves. For instance, a child of active temperament, sensitive THE enjoyments which the beautiful in nature inspires feeling, and eager purpose, is more likely to meet with constant jars and rubs than a dull passive child; and, if come from fair and glorious things. They consist in the he is of an open nature, his inward irritation is imme-activity of the purest faculties; no shadow of sin is on their continuance or their departure; while they are felt diately shown in bursts of passion. If you repress these they are sacred; when remembered they cost no money; ebullitions by scolding and punishment, you only increase and they are to be had everywhere. the evil by changing passion into sulkiness. A cheerful, good-tempered tone of your own, a sympathy with his trouble whenever the trouble has arisen from no ill conduct on his part, are the best antidotes; but it would be better still to prevent, beforehand, all sources of annoyance. Never fear spoiling children by making them too happy. Happiness is the atmosphere in which all good affections grow-the wholesome warmth necessary to make the heartblood circulate healthily and freely; unhappiness-the chilling pressure which produces here an inflammation, there an excrescence, and, worst of all, "the mind's green and yellow sickness"ill-temper.-Bray on the Education of the Feelings.

EACH plant has its parasite, and each created thing its lover and poet.

THE memory ought to be a store-house, but many make it a lumber-yard.

FUTURITY-What we are to be, determined by what we have been. An inscrutable mystery, of which we can only guess at a solution, by referring to the present and the past.

Printed and Published for the Proprietor, by Jons OWEN CLARKE, (of No. 8,
Canonbury Villas, in the Parish of St. Mary, Islington, in the County of
Middlesex) at his Printing Office, No. 3, Raquet Court, Fleet Street, in the
Parish of St. Bride, in the City of London, Saturday, May 25, 180,

TO MY READERS.

UPWARDS of a year has elapsed since, with a determination to deserve success, I commenced my present undertaking, and judging by the success I have been favoured with, I presume that a numerous public have concluded that I do deserve a portion of their generous notice. I say this with little hesitation, for to affect over-modesty, while every post brings me kind gratulations upon my endeavours to contribute to the general improvement, were but to enact a part savouring of inconsistency. Besides, editors are but human beings, and if they may be deemed competent to select from and distribute the best food which they can command, and their readers reward their labours by approval, it is a fair conclusion, without particular egotism, that what they are doing is useful, and tends to exalt the mentality of the many.

Conscious that I have my readers' sympathies with me-setting aside the formality so often assumed as the editorial protection-I trust to the feeling of fraternity to listen to the few words I am desirous of saying.

It is a prevalent impression that the periodical which bears my name is not my own property. Believing, that rectifying this mistake, and giving a distinct announcement of my sole responsibility for, and ownership of, the Journal will be hailed by many with satisfaction, I have taken this opportunity to state the fact, and with every hope of receiving a yet wider support than hitherto.

THE ONLY LITERARY ENGAGEMENT I NOW HOLD IS ON MY OWN LITTLE SERIAL, TO THE IMPROVEMENT OF

WHICH MY WHOLE ENERGIES WILL BE DIRECTED.

My aim will be, as it has been, to produce a book for family reading; profitable for the young, by teaching them the lessons of social life; attractive to the youthful, by exhibiting to them the holiness of love, and the inestimable value of a cultivated self-respect; interesting to the more mature, by presenting to them perspicuous essays upon the ever-changing subjects of proceeding days; and not unmindful of the aged, who see with delight the "world growing better," and the uprising generations dwelling upon those teachings which shall lead them on in honour and humility to the goal towards which the grey-haired ones are approaching. This has been my unchanging aim, and as before hinted, the kind

[PRICE 13d.

sympathy received from readers in all conditions of life assures me I have, to some extent, succeeded.

Looking forward for a lengthened acquaintance with the kind friends of the past years, I hope also for additional faces that will smile a welcome upon "Eliza Cook's Journal," as the herald of peaceful progress, as the weekly visitor that would fain spread the poetry of Religion and Nature into wider channels, so that all who are thirsty may, by partaking, start afresh, to labour on in the paths of Life, fitting themselves by a Brotherhood of Love for communion with God hereafter.

THE PASSIONS.

AN ALLEGORY.

ELIZA COOK.

WANDERING one day in a solitary spot, surrounded by heavy mists which long obscured my sight, I suddenly reached an eminence of considerable height, and the clouds dispersing from around me, a wide and lovely prospect lay revealed at my feet. It seemed as if my sight took in at one view a whole kingdom, and I could discern the occupations, the habitations, the very countenances of the inhabitants, with wonderful facility.

Dazzled at first by the vast extent of prospect before me, my heart glowed with admiration; and my eyes roved from one prominent feature in the landscape to another, without noticing accurately the details presented.

All that could please the taste, and delight the mind, seemed assembled beneath my view; for on one side were shady vales, which, with their verdant woods, clear streams, and luxuriant harvests, seemed to promise a peaceful and happy seclusion to their fortunate inhabitants: on another hand were lofty eminences, profusely crowned with glorious buildings, uniting every ornament which taste could invent; and, as the dazzling rays of the sun lighted them up, they bore an aspect of unbounded splendour, and tempted the eager mind by their sparkling riches.

At first, however, I was content to watch all this goodly prospect from a distance, until my eye was satiated with the beauty; but after a while I longed to know more of the inhabitants, who seemed to throng and press around every spot in this favoured region. Deeming they

when after a successful struggle upwards, where everything looked bright, some fortunate individual had won the much-desired goal, the whole mountain would shake, and cleaving asunder, would swallow him up, and it appeared that by all his exertions he had only won for himself a tomb.

But I saw that it was the dark monsters who occasioned all these miseries, disappointments, and losses, and it was evident that their fiendish natures took delight in causing mischief and suffering.

I fixed my eyes attentively on one individual, and tried to study the nature of the being who was his tyrant and tormentor. The man himself, wearied and well nigh

must be satisfied and happy, I own I felt half inclined to envy beings so blessed in situation and in circumstances; but hardly had the wish risen in my heart, when it was hastily recalled, for, on a closer inspection, there was a fact revealed to me, by the knowledge of which my mind was entirely changed, for attending, and inseparably accompanying every individual before me, was a dreadful monster, of so hideous and inhuman a shape, that I shrunk back appalled, and for some moments hardly dared look again Curiosity however supplied courage; and soon deeply interested in my observations, I never ceased to investigate the subject until I thought I understood the whole. I saw that every man, every woman, nay even every child, had one of these dread attendants brooding over it, down to the little infant just laid asleep in a new-made cradle-there seemed no freedom from it. The secluded vallies were haunted by these fiendish forms, and the lofty eminences were swarming with the same. Widely they differed in appearance, but yet all bore the strong impress of one common origin; all were cruel and capricious, tyrannizing over their unfortunate victims, until they often sacrificed them to a mad fury, and invariably prompting acts of hostility and ill-whilst he whom I watched planted himself on his vacant will to those around them, which occasioned a bitter and never-ending warfare amongst the population. It was true that in some cases, where a mutual interest prompted such agreement, many would join together in one common measure; but if once their views crossed one another, or their wishes were at variance, or an object would be gained by disunion, the fiends would not hesitate to plunge their servants into the most cruel discord, and prompt the wretched slaves to every violence; whereby misery was spread around, and happiness was for ever banished.

Those brilliant edifices which I had just before admired now appeared to me in a new light. I saw in them only traps and snares-baits to allure men on to destruction. Around their base thronged crowds on crowds, and their object seemed to be to reach the building on the summit; some desired the golden treasures it contained, some wished to leave a memorial of their names, some fancied that from thence they should be secure from the storms under which others were crushed; some believed that from the summit they should command the whole world. But, being now led slowly to inspect the object of so much striving, I saw that these dazzling palaces were sadly dangerous places. The way was rough, and steep, and slippery; and crowded as it was, one false step was fatal; the wretch who fell, rolled down and downwards to the bottom, crushed and bruised by the descent, whilst those who stepped upon him, gave not a thought or a glance of commiseration to his fate; on the contrary, their gloomy and terrible attendants clapped their sooty wings, and rejoiced when one and another was removed from their upward course. I saw, too, that every now and then a fierce and sudden tempest would arise, which would in a moment sweep away all those who had attained the greatest eminence, and plunge them in some gloomy cavern, whence they never rose again; and many a time I saw a panting individual, who had by incredible exertions gained the summit, fall, worn out with toil, even as he grasped the object of his wishes. Sometimes, too,

worn out, was struggling upwards through the crowd; but his sufferings in this struggle were so severe that I could hardly understand his continuing it. No breathingtime, no peace, no pause was permitted him, for the fiend ever goaded him on to greater exertion, lest those behind should pass before him. No eminence could suffice, for there were others still above him: onwards and upwards he toiled, and if a rival stood in the way, a silent and secret blow was dealt, which quickly overthrew its victim,

place: and yet I often thought some secret feeling made the actor shrink from the cruel and treacherous deed, until urged on by the fiendish spirit which ever pressed him to these acts, and guided his hand in them. And now I saw that the storms I had already noticed were sometimes the accidental effects, but more often the intentional consequences of contentions between many of these odious spirits; and the earthquake which buried its victims wholesale was the work of others, who undermined the height to which they had failed to attain, and triumphed in the overthrow of successful rivals. It was a sad and sickening sight, and I searched for some pleasing object in the scene, but long I searched in vain. No individual was free from the torment, and I greatly feared that all were subdued and subjugated by it.

And when I saw how the young infants were treated, I ceased to marvel at the fearful devastations committed. Each little babe, as I before observed, was coupled to an infant monster; torpid and weak, it seemed as if a slight effort could effectually strangle it, and free the unconscious victim from its impending tyranny. But rarely was the effort made; on the contrary, I saw the fiend nursed and tended, fed into strength and fury, or irritated into activity and life. With every motion it gained strength, and each time it was aroused from slumber its powers visibly increased; and yet no one noticed it with concern, nay, parents and nurses seemed rather amused by its young struggles, and because they were now too weak to do mischief, forgot the time when the monster's fury would destroy all around it.

Shrinking from what I saw in the busy world, I turned to the valleys and quiet spots, to see whether here at least peace might not reign; but no; if the fiends who ruled the inhabitants were less fierce, they were as odious; more gross in their desires, more grovelling in their aims, equally powerful, domineering and vile, and equally inimical to the peace of those who, though groaning under their tyranny, made no effort, and apparently formed no wish to escape from it.

And are there none, I cried, who have found means to shake off this appalling burden, not one who is master of himself, and able to guide his own actions and rule his own efforts? I looked again and I saw, on attentive consideration, here and there amongst the crowd, one who had bound his tormentor in strong chains, and trampled him under foot. In these few cases, it appeared to me that a system of warfare had been long carried on, and that the fetters which now crippled the power of the fiend had been placed there during its infancy, and by this means its growth to the strength and activity of maturity had been effectually prevented. Scarce indeed could I discover one individual who had conquered in the strife, when the combat had been delayed to a later period in life, and if here and there I discovered one in such circumstances who seemed victorious, this victory had evidently been after a desperate conflict, and the deep and ineffaceable scars which remained, showed how severe had been the suffering ere any advantages were gained. Even in the best cases too, the monster, though overthrown and subdued, required incessant watching to keep him under restraint; for a moment's inattention would occasion a sudden rebellion, and severe and terrible would be the suffering thence arising ere he again was brought into subjection. As I gazed on these individuals, who thus seemed to know neither rest nor peace, I was astonished to discover that they, on close inspection, appeared the only happy dwellers in the land, and it was wonderful to see that the more severe and uncompromising they were with their domestic enemy, the more forbearing and patient were they under the encroachments, ill-usage, and bitter injuries inflicted by their neighbours. Peace seemed to be their motto-peace with all but themselves; and yet they had, in all their conflicts, a peace which impressed me greatly; and whilst eagerly trying to understand the source of this mystery, I awoke, and found I had been dreaming.

THE SHIP-DOG.

THE embarkation of a dog on board a French man-of-war is one of the numerous points of detail which depends entirely upon the will of the captain. An officer is obliged to solicit permission to bring his dog with him. To obtain this favour, which a mere sailor would never dream of asking, many ruses and petty artifices are put in practice. Tacit engagements are accepted, touching arguments are used, and often all in vain. We know Fabriciuses of the quarter-deck who would not wish for a degree or a cross at the price of the gambols of Tom, Pillot, or Guzman. Other officers, prouder or more timid, do not even endeavour to disarm authority, and renounce at once the hope of making a campaign with their favourite companion.

mits to maritime discipline with the abnegation of a true sailor.

Has the ship-dog a master who has wrested his privilege by force of petition, or is he but an adventurer whom no one will own, clandestinely introduced into the vessel on the eve of its departure? Has he been forgotten by a negligent passenger, or was he born on the ocean, and owes it to the pity of an unknown topman that he has survived the destruction of his brothers? All these hypotheses are equally admissible. Frequently he is the ancient of the deck: in this case, prescription defends him against ostracism; his rights are secured, and the order can have no retro-active effects for him. However, as he ought to have a commencement, we will suppose that he is one of the rejected offspring of a passenger mother. A few days after their birth a fatal sentence was pronounced; the newly-born were destined to be engulphed in the pitiless ocean. The order was about to be executed; already the litter were suspended over the abyss; but the lamentations of the mother excited pity in the executive power.

"I say, Mauricard, suppose we leave one, just one, to the poor beast, eh?"

"And the Master-at-Arms? Dost believe that I will get into trouble for one of these little gluttons, who sing their profundis like a priest?"

"Nonsense! The Master-at-Arms will not know who

has saved him. Here is a little chap four times as ugly as the master-cook. It would be a pity to drown him; he suits me exactly."

"You have good taste, Flandrin, it is well known. Into the water with the chicken! One-two-"

"Stop! hand him over to me. If they say anything, that is my business. Give him to me; it shall bring thee luck."

"Here is thy Tape-à-l'Eil. Three more of them! The sharks will have a famous feast."

"See, Mauricard, he is the only one who does not whine, the lamb!"

Flandrin returned the little dog to its mother; he protected and concealed it at all hours. By his assiduous care he succeeded in hiding the existence of his protégé from the surveillance of the subaltern chiefs, and shortly all the sailors became accomplices in the salvation of Tape-à-l'Eil. Their favourite was sometimes secreted in the hole of the bowsprit, sometimes in the head of the ship, sometimes in the manger. The depths of the magazine, or of the ballast-hold served him for a refuge; occasionally even he passed the night in the long-boat or in the mizen-mast. At length the mother-dog disembarked with her master, and Tape-à-l'ŒŒil remained alone on board. One unlucky day, an indiscreet barking betrayed his presence.

"What is that?" cried the formidable voice of the Master-at-Arms, "how long has this dog been on board?"

There was no reply. The sailors whispered among themselves. The Master-at-Arms spied a passing youngster and grappled him by the ear. "Who is this dog?"

"Tape-à-l'Eil!

And how long has he been on

Most commandants have a fixed opinion upon a case which often happens; a positive refusal is their response; and we cannot blame them. "No dog on board; that is my rule. A first concession would draw upon me a second; and we should soon be encumbered with a complete pack. Besides, dogs always give rise to quarrels, of which I do not care to be the arbiter. Lastly, gentlemen, "I don't know, Master-at-Arms. Oh!-oh!-Yes, I my frigate is not, and ought not, to become a dog-know. 'Tis Tape-à-l'Œil." kennel." After such a declaration, the order for the embarkation of an entire squadron would be less difficult to obtain than that for the tiniest shock-dog. More tolerant captains are in the minority; and the rule with them is not less the absolute banishment of dogs for mere pleasure. At the same time, there are very few vessels upon which a dog, once admitted, would not be made free of the ship; the proscription that attends his race attaches not to him; an exception protects him; "Tis true, nevertheless," answered the youngster, but he has also his charges and functions, which pro-weeping. "He is a puppy of Monsieur Simon, the pascure him this immunity; he knows his duty, and sub- senger's dog. There! He has been on board two months."

board?

"Confound it! ever since he was born. Master-atArms-oh !-release me, and I will tell you all." The Master-at-Arms pulled harder. "Don't think to hoax me, Gringalet! Would you have me believe that quadrupeds grow out of the orlopdeck?"