neighbouring clump of bushes, from which he pulled out several strong green withs, and returned to the mule, who received him with a defiant snort. "Now, Miss Juno," he said, showing his glittering teeth, "me see who sail win de bet." He then filled up both ears of the mule with the pebbles he had brought from the brook, and tied them close with the withs he had procured for the purpose. "Now, Juno," he triumphantly exclaimed, as he gathered up the reins and vaulted nimbly into the saddle, "we see who is de massa, Juno or Benjie." Giving her two or three touches with the spur, Juno began sidling in the wrong direction, evidently as much determined as ever to be fractious, and to go any way but the right one. But, astonished at the strange thundering noise in her ears caused by the grating and rattling of the pebbles, and not knowing at all what to make of it, she threw her heels high in the air two or three times, and fairly gave up the contest, starting off at full gallop, with little Benjie grinning from ear to ear, and almost frantic with delight that he had conquered the obstinacy of Juno and gained his bet. The traveller slowly continued his journey in the same direction, laughing heartily at this queer scene between Benjie and Juno, and greatly amused with the clever expedient of the Negro lad to subdue the stubbornness of mulo. After a short ride he arrived at the little town, where, after stabling his horse, he recognised little Benjie, occupied with other lads who had come on a similar errand, in a game of marbles, earing very little about the anxiety of their respective masters to get their packet letters. Curious to know the result of the little interlude he had witnessed, he beckoned Benjie, as soon as he could arrest his attention, to come to him. But Benjie, too much occupied with the business in hand during his contest with Juno to attend to anything else, had scarcely noticed the rider, who was all the time looking on. Not recog nising the stranger, he shrank from his approach, as if somewhat dubious concerning the traveller's intentions. Instead of coming forward when he beckoned to him, Benjie T sidled off, and seemed very much disposed to take to his heels. "I have no wish to harm you, my boy," said the traveller; "I only wish to ask you a question about Juno, and give you a fippenny, it may be, if you give me a proper answer." The prospect of a donation banished the boy's fears, and he came forward as requested. "I want to ask you whether Juno gave you any more trouble after you put the pebbles in her ears?" "How Massa know 'bout Juno and de pebbles ?" inquired the boy, with a blank expression of countenance. "0, I was close by, and saw and heard all while you were contending with the mule." "But Massa no tell busha 'bout de stones me put in him ear ?" "No, I won't say anything at all to busha. But I want to know about the bet." The little fellow's face resumed all the brightness which a momentary apprehension had banished, as a vision of the angry overseer had flitted before his mind, and again showing his white teeth, he replied, "Me win de bet fair, Massa." "Well, but now you have won it, how can Juno pay you the fippenny? That is what I want you to tell me. "Me make him pay bery well, Massa." "But how ?—that is what I am curious to understand." no tell busha, if me tell Massa ? " 66 "Massa No, busha will never "Well, den, you see, know anything about it from me.” Massa," his bright black eye twinkling with an expression of roguish cunning, "busha gib' me one tenpenny (sixpence) to buy grass for Juno; me buy one fippenny grass for Juno, and toder fippenny buy bread for Benjie. Dat way Juno pay him bet." The traveller handed to him the coin by which he had lured him into the conversation; and little Benjie hastened to rejoin his companions, triumphantly exhibiting his gains, and boisterously jubilant over the stranger's liberality. XVII. THE QUADROON SLAVE. He finds his fellow guilty of a skin Not coloured like his own; and, having power Cowper. HE parish of St. Ann, Jamaica, is, as nearly as possible, about the centre of the island, on the north coast. It is right opposite to Cuba, whose lofty mountain tops are often clearly discernible in the early morning, or near sunset in the evening, from the high lands above St. Ann's Bay, although the channel is scarcely less than one hundred miles in width. It is the loveliest of all the parishes of this beautiful land, extending in length upwards of thirty miles, and in breadth nearly half across the colony. Rising abruptly from the sea in some places, and with but little level land between them and the sandy shore in others, the hills and mountains sweep gradually upwards, one range towering above another, until they reach an altitude of nearly three thousand feet, at the top of Mount Diabola, which is covered with magnificent timber, the growth of many centuries. Over one of the lower ridges of this mountain winds the main road that affords the principal means of communication between the northern and southern shores of the island. In crossing it, the traveller often skirts the side of a deep ravine, down which it makes the head grow འ sidled off, and seemed very much disposed while you were conte no tell busha 'bout I won't say anyth about the bet." brightness wh as a vision and again bet fair can J to t hr real this we cattered por way for miles, as 1. as he winds through t what appears to be a vast, Accession of parks, relieved with Sic growth and the never-changing beauty of gentle slope, and laid out for coolness and comfort, are seen of these far-stretching fields, generally situated upon some peeping out from the clusters of trees in which they are embosomed; while the picturesque beauty of the landscape is greatly enhanced by occasional rows or avenues of the tall cabbage-palm, with its smooth, straight, symmetrical trunk, surmounted by a plume-like head of surpassing gracefulness, and always exhibiting, from January to December, that dark verdure on which the eye finds it a pleasant relief to rest. Beautiful in their wildness are some of the scenes of Rokeby and the valley of the Tees, celebrated in graceful poetry by one of Scotland's favourite bards; but tame and contracted are these in comparison with the magnificence of those expansive and enchanting landscapes over which the eye of the beholder ranges as he pursues his way by the smooth, winding, well-kept roads which conduct him through the parish of St. Ann. But it is in the earlier months of the year, when, in more northe aspect stretcl last, io a black man, about thirty-five years of age, has to go astray. He is ordered to strip; and de to lie down on his face, with his back rt of his person uncovered. One of the scular man, steps out, and uncoils the has a thong nine or ten feet in length, dle, from two to three feet long. nd deadly instrument of torture ree or four times, by which it n brings it down with all his BOMANCE OF THE MISSI sway. Deeds of darknes aromatic pine ý tro beautifu above all other blushing bride,-fi the victim. A thick weal, , immediately rises where sufferer writhes like a by three or four stout ds, while the victim to heaven against Every succeses, the skin is clothes and instrument ding cry lashes with delicious perfume. seen laden with luscious golde. contrast to the full, deep green and imparting to the country, as far the aspect of an earthly paradise. Some w the idea that Hayti, Cuba, and Jamaica wer the Hesperides mentioned by Hesiod, and that apples he spoke of were the oranges and kindred fruit which all those islands so richly abound. The traveller, a he rides or drives along the narrow roads which traverse the hills and glades of this highly-favoured parish 'very is directions, can, without dismounting from his saddle or vehicle, just turn a little to the roadside, and pluck at his pleasure the luscious, ripe, yellow fruit. This the writer has often done; and, as he cast his eyes over the fields, and beheld the countless thousands of these beautiful trees bowing beneath their splendid adorning of green and gold, he concluded that surely nowhere else was there a scene to be found so well adapted to furnish the fable and imagery of the old Grecian poet. It is difficult to conceive that earth can anywhere present a scene of more transcendent loveliness. But here, amidst these landscape beauties, the foul demon of slavery has held high carnival, and maintained undis |