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9. « Mon Dieu ! Mon Dieu !” exclaimed the astonished fair. “ Mon Dieu !" was echoed from every mouth.

Have you cut your head?” inquired one. “No! No! - The spider! the spider! The gentleman has killed a spider!” “What a quantity of bowels !” ejaculated an astonished Frenchman, unconsciously to himself.

10. Well might he be astonished. The spray of the execrable vegetable, had spattered her dress from head fo foot. For myself, the moment the accident occurred, I had mechanically returned my handkerchief to my pocket; but its contents remained.

11. “ What a monster it must have been !” observed a young lady, as she helped to relieve my victim from her cruel situation. “ I declare I should think he had been living on cauliflower !” At that moment, I felt some touch me; and, turning, I saw my companion who had come

one

with me.

Look at your pantaloons," he whispered. Already half dead at the disaster I had caused, I cast my eyes upon my once white dress, and saw at a glance the horrible extent of my dilemma. I had been sitting upon the fated pocket, and had crushed out the liquid butter, and the soft, pastelike vegetable, which had daubed and dripped down them, till it seemed as if I were actually dissolving in my pantaloons.

13. Darting from the spot, I sprang to the place where I had left my hat; but, before I could reach it, a sudden storm of wrath was heard at the door.

14. “ Sacr-r-r-r-e! bête ! Sacr-r-r-e! Sacr-r-r-r-r-e!the r in the last syllable being made to roll like a watchman's rattle, mingled with another epithet and name, that an angry Frenchman never spares, was heard rising like a fierce tempest without the door. Suddenly there was a pause, gurgling sound as of one swallowing involuntarily, - and the storm of wrath again broke out with redoubled fury. I seized a hat, and opened the door, and the whole matter was at once explained. By mistake a Frenchman had taken my hat, and there he was, the soft cauliflower gushing down his cheeks, blinding his eyes, filling his mouth, hair, mustachios, ears, and whiskers. Never shall I forget that spectacle. There he stood astride like the Colossus, and stooping gently forward, his eyes forcibly closed, his arms held

а

THE ZENAIDA DOVE.'

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drooping out from his body, and dripping cauliflower and butter at every pore !

15. I stayed no longer ; but, retaining his hat, I rushed from the house, jumped into a hack, and arrived safely at home; heartily resolving, that, to my last hour, I would never again deliver a letter of introduction.

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1. MR. AUDUBON, in his valuable work on American Ornithology, relates an anecdote illustrative of the deep impressions liable to be made on the mind from hearing the cooing of the Zenaida Dove, a pigeon which frequents the small islands in the Gulf of Florida. “ The cooing of the Zenaida Dove,” says he, “ is so peculiar, that one who hears it for the first time naturally stops to ask, “What bird is that?'

2. A man, who was once a pirate, assured me, that several times, while at certain wells, dug in the burning, shelly sands of a well-known island, the soft and melancholy cry of the doves awoke in his breast feelings which had long slumbered, melted his heart to repentance, and caused him to linger at the spot in a state of mind, which he only, who compares the wretchedness of guilt within him with the happiness of former innocence, can truly feel. He said he never left the place without increased fears of futurity, associated as he was, although I believe by force, with a band of the most desperate villains that ever annoyed the navigation of the Florida coast.

3. “So deeply moved was he by the notes of any bird, and especially those of a dove, the only soothing sounds he ever heard during his life of horrors, that, through those plaintive notes, and them alone, he was induced to escape from his vessel, abandon his turbulent companions, and return to a family deploring his absence.

4. “After paying a parting visit to those wells, and listening once more to the cooings of the Zenaida dove, he poured out his soul in supplications for mercy, and once more became what is said to be, the noblest work of God,' an honest man. His escape was éffected amidst difficulties

and dangers; but no danger seemed to him to be compared with the danger of one living in the violation of human and divine laws; and now he lives in peace, in the midst of his friends.'

LESSON LI. The Queen and the Quakeress.

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1. In the autumn of 1818, her late majesty, Queen Charlotte of England, visited Bath, accompanied by the Princess Elizabeth. The waters soon effected such a respite from pain in the royal patient, that she proposed an excursion to a park of some. celebrity in the neighborhood, the estate of a rich widow belonging to the Society of Friends. Notice was given of the Queen's intention, and a message returned that she should be welcome.

2. The illustrious traveller had perhaps never before had any personal intercourse with a member of the persuasion whose votaries never voluntarily paid taxes to "the mañ George, called King by the vain ones.” The lady and gentleman who were to attend the august visitants had but feeble ideas of the reception to be expected. It was supposed that the Quaker would at least say thy Majesty," or thy Highness," or, at least “ Madam.”

3. The royal carriage arrived at the lodge of the park, punctual at the appointed hour. No preparations appeared to have been made; no hostess nor domestics stood ready to greet the guests. The porter's bell was rung; he stepped forth deliberately with his broad-brimmed beaver on, and unbendingly accosted the lord in waiting with, “What's thy will, friend?” This was almost unanswerable. “Surely,” said the nobleman,“ your lady is aware that her Majesty Go to your mistress, and say the Queen is here."

No, truly," answered the man, " it needeth not; I have no mistress nor lady ; but Friend Rachel Mills expecteth thine ; walk in."

The queen and princess were handed out, and walked up the avenue. At the door of the house stood the plainly attired Rachel, who, without even a curtsy, but with a cheerful nod, said, “ How 's thee do, friend? I am glad to see thee and thy daughter; I wish thee well! Rest and re

THE QUEEN AND THE QUAKERESS.

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fresh thee and thy people, before I show thee my grounds." What could be said to such a person? Some condescensions were attempted, implying that her Majesty came not only to view the park, but to testify her esteem for the Society to which Mistress Mills belonged.

5. Cool and unawed, she answered, “ Yea, thou art right · there; the Friends are well thought of by most folks, but they need not the praise of the world; for the rest, many strangers gratify their curiosity by going over this place, and it is my custom to conduct them myself; therefore I shall do the like to thee, friend Charlotte ; moreover, I think well of thee as a dutiful wife and mother. Thou hast had thy trials, and so had thy good partner. I wish thy grandchild well through hers.” It was so evident that the Friend meant kindly, nay, respectfully, that offence could not be taken.

6. She escorted her guest through her estate. The Princess Elizabeth noticed in her hen-house a breed of poultry, hitherto unknown to her, and expressed a wish to possess some of those rare fowls, imagining that Mrs. Mills would regard her wish as a law; but the Quakeress merely answered, They are rare, as thou sayest ; but if any are to be purchased, in this land or in other countries, I know few women likelier than thyself to procure them with ease."

7. Her Royal Highness more plainly expressed her de. sire to purchase some of those she now beheld "I do not buy and sell," answered Rachel Mills. “ Perhaps you will give me a pair,” persevered the princess, with a conciliating smile. Nay, verily,” replied Rachel, “I have refused many friends; and that which I denied to my own kinswoman, Martha Ash, it becometh me not to grant to any. We have long had it to say, that these birds belonged only to our own house, and I can make no exception in thy favor."

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LESSON LII. Adoration of the Deity in the Midst of

His Works.

The turf shall be my fragrant shrine,
My temple, Lord ! that arch of thine :
My censer's breath the mountain airs,
And silent thoughts my only prayers.

My choir shall be the moonlight waves,
When murmuring homeward to their caves,
Or when the stillness of the sea,
Even more than music, breathes of thee!

. I'll seek, by day, some glade unknown,

All light and silence, like thy throne !
And the pale stars shall be, at night,
The only eyes that watch my

rite.
*Thy Heaven, on which 't is bliss to look,
Shall be my pure and shining book,
Where I shall read, in words of flame,
The glories of thy wondrous name.

5. I'll read thy anger in the rack

That clouds awhile the day-beam's track;
Thy mercy in the azure hue
Of sunny brightness breaking through!

6. There's nothing bright, above, below,

From flowers that bloom to stars that glow,
But in its light my soul can see
Some features of thy Deity.

7. There's nothing dark below, above,

But in its gloom I trace thy love,
And meekly wait that moment, when
Thy touch shall turn all bright again!

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