The planter's son

Material Information

The planter's son
Hillyard, W. Heard ( William Heard )
Fawcett, D ( Engraver )
Lydon, F ( Illustrator )
Whimper, E ( Engraver )
Friston, David Henry ( Illustrator )
Gray, Russell
Gilchrist, Alexander
Hood, Tom, 1835-1874
Hall L. A, fl. 1860-1870
Lemon, Mark, 1809-1870
Groombridge and Sons ( Publisher )
Place of Publication:
London (5 Paternoster Row)
Groombridge and Sons
Publication Date:
Physical Description:
1 v. (unpaged) : ill. (some col.) ; 18 cm.


Subjects / Keywords:
Children's stories ( lcsh )
Christian life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1875 ( lcsh )
Moral stories -- 1875 ( local )
Bldn -- 1875
Children's stories ( lcsh )
Fables ( fast )
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
England -- London
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )


General Note:
Date approximated from Brown, P.A. London publishers and printersc. 1800-1870, p. 78: Groombridge and Sons, 5 Paternoster Row, 1846-79, and the cover design indicates 1870's printing.
General Note:
Frontispiece is chromolithographed plate, engraved by D. Fawcett drawn after F. Lydon.
General Note:
Ill. engraved and signed by E. Whimper drawn after D.H.F.
Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
Statement of Responsibility:
by W. Heard Hillyard ; illustrated.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections ( with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026707405 ( ALEPH )
50335034 ( OCLC )
ALG7215 ( NOTIS )


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THE PLANTER'S SON.BY W. HEARD HILLYARD.----THE PLANTATION-HENRIQUEZ KILLS THE JAGUAR, ANDRESCUES MADELINE FROM THE HERD.THE sun had disappeared behind a forest that stretchedas far as the eye could reach across the broad land-scape; but though the orb itself was no longer visible, thesky overhead was dyed in the most glorious colours of atropical sunset, as the beauties of an Indian day weregiving place to the approaching gloom of night.A belt of wood, whose recesses seemed lost in sha-dow, except where the reflection from the burnishedsky lit up its high tops with streaks of fire, extendedfrom the high bluffs of the Rio San Francisco for morethan two leagues, till it became lost in the forest whichbounded the distance. The immense plain that laywithin this triangle of wood was divided into planta-tions of rice, indigo, maize, tobacco, sugar, and cotton,through which streams and rivulets, glinting like threadsof silver, pursued their winding course.The banks of the San Francisco, into which the

THE PLANTER'S SON.different streams were pouring their waters, formed theforeground to this lovely scene.Narrow embowered footways, here and there spannedthe different streams, while a suspension bridge of bam-boo, of considerable size and width, tastefully con-structed and covered with thick masses of wild vine,hung from two tall trees, and secured in a similarmanner on the opposite bank, formed a direct commu-nication across the San Francisco, from the plantationto the hacienda or mansion of the planter.Standing within one of the glades, that opened fromthat part of the forest abutting on the river, with hisarms folded, and moodily resting his back against thebole of a smooth gum tree, stood a boy of some fifteenyears of age, but who, by his serious countenance, thedeep gloom of his features, and his manly attitude,might have been taken for some years older. The boy,for he could hardly yet be called a youth, was tall forhis age, slight in figure, light of limb and active; whilehis features, though far from regular, were remarkablyhandsome, revealing by the soft, yet at times fieryglances of his dark eyes, and the clear olive of hisskin, the cross of Indian and European blood in hisveins.The beasts of the forests were already rousing fromtheir long sleep of the exhausting day, and might beheard prowling through the distant wood in quest ofprey, or seeking, as the sun set, their dens and subterra-nean retreats for the hours of darkness; but of allthese, the dwellers of tree and brake, the boy in hismoody state took little heed. But although the screamof the cockatoo, the discordant bray of the laughingjackass, and the dissonance of the larger beasts, had

THE PLANTER'S SON.sunk into silence, the wood, though voiceless, becameeach moment, as the shadows of evening deepened,more dangerous to the heedless wayfarer; for alreadythe ocelot, the jaguar, and puma had left their far-offdens, and, with noiseless strides, were prowling throughthe wood."In what am I better than a frightened agouti," ex-claimed the boy, " or that poor alio ?" as a cry of pain,a rush and a bound was heard in the undergrowth im-mediately beyond the glade in which he stood, inducingthe boy to draw the knife he wore in a scabbard at hisside, and gaze in the direction from whence he hadheard the noise. The rattlesnake is making a supperof the one, and yonder ferocious catamount the ocelot,of the other; for I, and the estate that ought to be mine,are made the victim and food of a man puma. Whyshould I defend myself, I am weary of living-sick oflife ?"" You are very young to speak so despondingly,"observed a gentleman, as he drew his bridle and lookedpityingly down on the youthful speaker. The wordswere so abrupt and unexpected, that the boy startedfrom his listless attitude, and seemed as if ready to dobattle with the stranger, whose approach along the thickmoss of the glade had been totally unheard."I should like to know what makes a youth of yourage so weary of his life ?" inquired the speaker."I am a slave," replied the other, with a tone ofbitter mortification." Well!"" Is not that enough ?" rejoined the boy sullenly;"C can any condition be worse, or more cruel ? and is nota dog better than a slave ?"

THE PLANTEIRS SON." These are strange opinions for you to entertain,"replied the horseman, " and are not only erroneous butsinful, and particularly extraordinary in coming from aborn slave."" I am not a born slave !" cried the boy, fiercely."Indeed !" replied the other, "how is that, for thereis still light enough here for me to see that you areneither European or Creole, you must therefore havebeen a born slave ?"" Do you take me for the son of a negro, for a Cubraor a Caribosco ? no; I am of royal blood; a Sachemwas my mother's father, and I am a Mameluco."" Then why call yourself a slave ?""Because by some mistake of my father's he diedwithout a will, upon which his brother, my uncle, hadthe right to seize on the estate my father meant to leaveme, and made my mother and me slaves. Stoop,stranger! stoop for your life," exclaimed the boy, witha sudden shout of terror, as he launched his heavyknife apparently full at the horseman's head.The suddenness of the cry, the alarm of the boy,and the threatening attitude assumed, for an instantparalyzed the horseman, and it was not till the danger-ous weapon had left the other's hand, and was flyingtowards his head, that the stranger mechanically bentforward to his saddle, from which the next moment hewas almost dashed to the ground by the weight of aheavy body that fell at his horse's feet, exposing to theastonished equestrian the form of a large jaguar, who,with the boy's hunting knife buried to the haft in itsbreast, lay snapping and plunging, till after a suddenspasm it rolled on its side and expired."Brave boy, your quick eye and ready aim have

THE PLANTER'S SON.saved my life," observed the stranger, gazing on thesavage beast, as in its death struggle it clutched vainlyat the air and gnashed its powerful teeth."I have done nothing," he replied indifferently, ashe placed his back against a tree, and looked down onthe dead beast."I think differently; but as this is evidently adangerous spot at this hour of the evening, I willtrouble you to direct me the nearest way to DonAlvarez's hacienda, where my family are already staying,and I should, but for a delay in my journey, havearrived last night. Do you know Don Alvarez ?"" Yes, he was my uncle in my father's life time; heis now my master."" And your name is- ?""Henriquez de Alvarez. And you are the father ofthe pretty English girl, Madeline ?" inquired the boy,with more animation than he had before exhibited." I am, and of two others, I hope.""Elinor and Arthur, oh yes; they are both withtheir mamma, and quite well.""And the house is not far off?""Follow the- bridle path through this clearingto the left, till it brings you to the river; cross thehanging bridge, and you will see the house beforeyou."" Thank you; but are you not coming home too ?"inquired the stranger, as he made his horse leap overthe dead jaguar, and emerged from the shade of the over-hanging trees."Oh, I shall not- be missed if I never return again;besides I have a duty to perform here first," and hepointed to the dead animal.

THE PLANTER S SON."I understand; allow me to be the purchaser ofyour skin.""I never sell anything, senhor," replied Henriquez,proudly."As you will; for the present, however, farewell,young senhor."The boy raised his broad sombrero with the formalcourtesy of an hidalgo, as the Englishman, with a waveof the hand, put his horse to a trot, and pursued thebridle path across the clearing. Henriquez gazed afterthe stranger for a few moments to observe whether ornot he took the right direction, and then stooping tohis task, withdrew his knife from the dead beast, andmuttering, as, with the skill of a huntsman, he began toflay the carcase." Sell, no; I'll tan it with sassafras and cassia, andgive it to pretty Madeline, for the housings of her blackmustang. Yes, it shall be for her, for-"Henriquez had just completed his task, when theshrill cry of a child, followed by the shrieks of women,rang through the wood, scattering the clouds of fire-fliesthat, like a shower of spangles, had fallen on theshadowy parts of the glade.For a moment the lad stood irresolute, grasping theskin he had just removed by his left hand, as he lis-tened as if to assure himself of his fears; then, as hefelt certain that it was the voice of the object uppermostin his thoughts, he finished his sentence by exclaiming," It is Madeline," sprung into the opening, and followingthe direction of the sound, soon came in sight of thecause of all the alarm.Full in front of him, skimming along the groundlike a lapwing, her light dress and long curls streaming

THE PLANTER'S SON.behind her, was a beautiful young girl rushing directlyon him, as in her alarm she stooped her body to theground, closely followed by a drove of cattle, who, withtheir horns pressed down to their feet, came tearingafter her, their tails erect in the air, and the wholesnorting and bellowing in a manner sufficiently alarm-ing to frighten a much older person than the child nowhastening towards Henriquez for shelter or protection.Had it been any one but the young and frightenedgirl, Henriquez would probably have laughed aloud, andquietly have walked towards the advancing herd; butbeing the object who had afforded the only sunshine tohis heart since the death of his father, the fairy-likeplayfellow ever present in his mind, and for whosepleasure he had just meditated an agreeable surprise,he felt in an instant that any fear that might distressher, must be at once met and remedied.He knew well, by the erect and waving tails of thefarm cattle, that they had been suddenly goaded by aswarm of mosquitoes while being milked, and made wildwith innumerable wounds, had fled in wild confusion tothe nearest lake, into which they were sure to plunge,knowing that water only would compel the enemy to quithis hold and retire from their wounded bodies." Come behind me, senora, and do not be afraid;quick, get at my back." The next moment he croucheddown and flung the skin over his body; and as the fierceherd came on, raised himself up as if about to spring onthe nearest animal, when the drove, catching the scentof their dreaded enemy, first fell back, then swervinground, scampered off to the paddock or compound, over-turning children, negresses, and all who had foolishlyfollowed them.

THE PLANTER'S SON."Do not be frightened, senora," cried Henriquez,throwing off the skin; " our cows often start off thatway when being milked, the flies sting them so dread-fully; see here is your father. Do not tremble so, theherd was only playing. Look round, the greatest mis-chief done is in the upsetting of the milk cans, and theflurry the milkers have been thrown into. Don't beafraid, the cows have all gone back to their compound,but the cries of the women have alarmed your mamma,who, with my uncle and aunt, and the servants, arecoming over the bridge to know what has happened.""I am indebted to you again, my brave lad, for yourpresence of mind in checking the career of thoseirritated animals," said Mr. Staunton, galloping up toHenriquez and his daughter ; "I observed the clever useto which you put the skin, and have to compliment youon your ready ingenuity. However, you have not onlysaved my life to-day, but you have in all probabilitysaved my child from a serious injury. I will speak toyour uncle and take an early opportunity of showingyou how I esteem your services."Mr. Staunton was a wealthy English merchant, whofor many years had had commercial dealings with DonAlvarez, the head of a great mercantile house at Rio.On the death of Don Pedro Alvarez-the father of Hen-riquez-his brother Jose retired from business, and withhis children returned to the family estate, in the provinceof Bahia.Before leaving the capital Don Jose had consigned alarge portion of his merchandise to his old and respectedfriend Mr. Staunton, whom he had invited to spend ayear with him at his estate on the St. Francisco. Mr.Staunton, anxious once more to see an old friend, but

THE PLANTER'S SON.more to benefit his wife and son, whose health requireda total change of scene, and the advantage of a longsea voyage, gladly accepted the proffered hospitality;and embarking his family in one of his own ships, hadsafely arrived in Brazil two months before the opening)f our story.Sending his wife and family to his friend's mansion,Mr. Staunton only remained in Rio till his ship wasfreighted with the cargo prepared for him, and thenhaving seen his vessel under weigh, started to rejoin hisfriend on his plantation, and where he arrived, as wehave seen, to be beholden both for himself and hisdaughter, to Henriquez, the planter's son.II.VISIT TO THE PLANTATION--THE SUGAR-CANE DESCRIBED-NATURE OF THE SAP OR SYRUP.THE following morning Mr. Staunton took the firstopportunity when alone with his friend Don Jose, torefer to the case of his nephew, Henriquez, by observing-" I am at a loss how adequately to show my grati-tude and thanks to that brave boy, who in so short atime rendered me two such signal services, for I per-ceive he is naturally high spirited and sensitive.""IHe is indeed a boy any one' might esteem, but,strange to say, he will not let me love him; nay, he hastaken a positive dislike to me; his wayward temperbeing a source of great anxiety to me, and pain to him-self.""1 How is that-from what cause ?"

THE PLANTER'S SON." Simply, I suppose, because I became, on mybrother's death, the proprietor of this estate, which he,as Pedro's only son, had expected would devolve onhim. And one of the overseers having foolishly toldhim that his mother and himself were now my slaves,the simple boy believed the assertion, and has since mis-construed everything I do for him."" Has he a mother living ?"" Yes; but as she preferred the gaieties of the capitalto remaining here after her husband's death, I gaveher my own house at Rio, and have settled on her anample annuity for life.""Then why is Henriquez nob with his mother ?""That's part of his waywardness; he will persist incalling himself my slave, and refuses to be made free ashe calls it, so I allow him to remain and hold the officeof overseer over a certain number of negroes till helearns to know me better, and understand his owninterests."" What do you purpose doing with him ?"" I wish you would take him with you to England,become his guardian, superintend his education, andwhether he adopts the army, the church, or the bar, asa future means of honourable independence, he shall,besides what I have already done, have five thousandpounds to start in life with.""I was just going to ask you to let me adopt him,and nothing will afford me greater pleasure than takinghis future welfare into my own hands.""Agreed, with all my heart; the boy is alreadyattached to Mrs. Staunton and your children, and Ibelieve he will hail with joy the idea of accompanyingyou to England."

THE PLANTER''S SON." There he is in the verandah. Henriquez," saidMr. Staunton, stepping to the window, " have you beento inquire how the little lady is to-day who you rescuedfrom the cattle ?"" I am glad to hear that the young Senora Madelinvis quite well, sir," replied Henriquez, coming forward." Thanks to you, my dear boy, she is; and as shewishes for a stroll over the plantation, I wish, with youruncle's permission, you would escort her through thegrounds, and show her whatever you think worthy ofobservation.""Do so, Henriquez. The only duty I shall expectfrom you in future is, to be the squire of Miss Stauntonon all occasions.""Am I to go now, sir ?" he inquired with a pleasedand happy expression, as he took a step in advance tothe window." Oh yes, at once.""Thank you, senor;" and raising the flap of hissombrero to his uncle and Mr. Staunton, he sprang outof the verandah and instantly disappeared."Oh, Harry! look there; there's a poor negro boyso hungry that he's eating a piece of stick," exclaimed ablue-eyed intelligent-looking girl, about thirteen yearsof age, as she reined in her docile mustang, a beautifullittle creature, slim .as a fawn, and with a coat of suchraven blackness that it shone like polished steel."Does he look hungry?" inquired Henriquez, aswith a bright and happy countenance he looked uparchly into the fair girl's face, and with his handsmoothed down the fur of the jaguar's skin that formedthe saddle-cloth of the mustang, its spotted fur con-

THE PLANTER'S SON.trasting pleasingly with the black hide of the steed, andthe green colour of the rider's dress."No, indeed, he looks fat enough, and happy too;but then he must be hungry, or he would never eatwood."" He is not eating wood, senora," replied the boy,smiling."There now, I shall be angry with you if you callme senora again; don't I call you Harry, because Ithink it's prettier than Henriquez, and then it's so muchshorter; and as I told you before, you must always callme Madeline."" But what will Senhor Staunton say if I am sofamiliar ?""cOh, papa will be quite as pleased as I am; be-sides,' did you not save me from being run over bythe cattle only a fortnight ago, and papa too, from thishorrid creature, whose skin you have given me ? and isnot that a double reason why you should call me Made-line ?" and she looked down on her companion with anexpression that plainly showed she at least thought so."But what is he eating? you don't tell me that," shedemanded, quickly." A piece of cane."" Cane! What they make chairs of, and papa usesfor a walking stick ? then I was right.""No, Madeline, neither the one nor the other.""What is it, then ? don't tease me so.""Do you like sugar ?""Do I not !" and the little lady's face broke into aperfect mirror of smiles and dimples; " Oh yes, I do likesugar !""Well then, 'Sambo' there is eating sugar, and

fHE PLANTER'S SON.that'; the reason he looks so sleek, happy, and con-tented."" Nonsense, I know better; sugar does not grow, itis made.""Do you know how it is made ?"" No; I only know that there's lump sugar, whichwe use for tea and coffee, and moist sugar, that cookputs into the pies."" Should you like to know all about sugar, how itgrows, how it is got, and all the things made with andfrom it ?" demanded Henriquez, looking up with inte-rest into the sunny face above him." Oh yes, very, very much. Oh do tell me.""Well then, we'll go to the cane-fields first. Illtell you from first to last all about it.""Do; I shall be so pleased. Thank you.""Let me take the mustang's head, and lead himthrough these paddy-fields, for the ground is full of holesand marshy. Sambo," calling to the negro boy, "cuta line through the cane brake into the plantation."The negro sprang to his feet in an instant, pushedthe piece of cane he had been chewing into the band ofhis trousers, and taking up a small axe, scampered offin the direction of a large belt of reeds of every shadeof colour, from a pale green to a rich red, and was soonlost to sight in the dense growth that overtopped him." Sugar, or rather the ripe juice of the cane," beganHenriquez, as he guided Madeline's pony over the brokenground, "is so refreshing and so nourishing too that aman may travel a long journey with nothing to eat ordrink except a joint or two of sugar-cane to suck andchew by the way."" Is it very nice, then ?"

THE PLANTER'S SON."Delicious; and when hot and exhausted, the mostinvigorating draught a person can take. If you do notDbject to taste it, you shall presently judge for yourself,for here we are at the brake which leads to the planta-tion, and this is the path which Sambo has cut for us."A few minutes sufficed to carry the youthful coupleto the further extremity of the swamp, on the marginof which they found the negro boy, who, having completedthe task given him, had gathered a few palmetto leavesand ingeniously weaving them together at ithe end of aslender bamboo, had constructed a very large if not avery neat umbrella, which he immediately held over thehead of Madeline, as the little horsewoman emergedfrom the shade of the bamboo jungle, so as to shieldher from the scorching heat of the sun in the open plain." What is the use of all those long poles standing inrows?" exclaimed Madeline; "look there, Harry, dotell me what it means; they are just like hop-poles inEngland, only there are no hops, and they have gotlong ribbons, and hop-poles are not so tall; do tell mewhat they are ?"" Look at them well first, and tell me everything yousee," replied her companion." Oh what a silly I was. Why, they are trees! butsuch queer, thin, knotty things, and those long tapes Ideclare are leaves; but what are those funny pointedbushes, like large fir apples, at the top of some of them ?""Those are leaves too, but not yet opened; some,you see, are expanded, showing their small leaves allthe way up.""I see; but you have not told me what the trees are."" They are sugar-canes, and this is the beginning ofmy uncle's great plantation. Now you shall taste the


THE PLANTER'S :" and with Sambo's axe, Henriquez laid his handon one of the finest canes, and severed the stem a fewinches from the ground, then cutting off about two feetin length, opened with his knife one of the lowest joints,and presented the luscious dainty to the inquisitiveyoung lady, who, following the advice given to her, putit to her lips and imbibed a draught of such deliciouscoolness that her whole countenance grew animated withthe enjoyment of her refreshing beverage." Oh that is delicious; thank you, Harry, thank youvery much. Now, am I to eat the stick ?" she inquired,about to carry the cane to her mouth." No, no, Madeline, don't do that; it's only greedyniggers who chew the pith; give it to me, and you shalltaste it again presently."" What is a greedy nigger, Harry ?" she asked, inno-cently, as Henriquez tied the piece of cane to thebamboo the negro was carrying." Sambo," he said, laughing, "tell Senora Madelinawhat is a greedy nigger.""Me nigger, misse, berry greedy nigger," repliedSambo, showing all his white teeth as he opened his jawsto grin a reply." Are all black people niggers, then ?""Yes, misse; dis child nigger, dis child's faddernigger, all black men niggers, all black women too;ebbery ting black, nigger; dat a nigger horse misseride.""What are those niggers cutting down the canesfor ?"" I'll tell you that presently when you have heardhow the canes are reared and grown.""But why are the canes, as you call them, all so

THE PLANTER'S SON.different ? some are much taller than others, some with-out any leaves, like dead sticks, and some feathered, likerough pens, all the way up with long narrow leaves."" Those canes which have lost all their leaves andare all of one colour, are the ripe canes, ready for themill, and being fuller of sap or juice, and yielding moresugar, belong to the kind chiefly cultivated in Brazil;they have fewer joints than these," he continued, point-ing to the different varieties, " which have from sixty toeighty, and sometimes ninety joints, are a purple stripedcane, and have a great deal of foliage; while those canesof an intermediate height and a lighter coloured leaf arethe third variety."" But why do they grow in such regular rows ?" in-quired Madeline, as they proceeded down one of thelong avenues of canes."They are planted so, Madeline; each row is justfive feet apart, and every cane exactly two and a halffeet from the other."" Then the cane does not grow of itself, but mustbe dug and attended to like potatoes, I suppose.""Yes. Come down this avenue, and you will seethe negroes planting the young shoots;" and turningthe horse's head to the left, Henriquez led his com-panion where a troop of slaves were busily employed indigging deep holes at regular distances, while otherswere planting the settings, or slips." Look here, this piece of stem about two feet long,with a bud at every joint, is laid lengthways at thebottom of one of these holes, and covered lightly overwith earth. In a few weeks one of the buds burstsinto a leaf, and comes through the ground; and as it,grows the earth is packed up round its tender stem,

THE PLANTER'S SON.when the plant is left to the rain and sun, to grow upand come to maturity.""And is this the season for cutting ?"" Yes, March and April are considered with us asthe cane or sugar harvest, but we don't wait for a par-ticular time; when the cane feels heavy, and is filledwith a sweet sticky juice, it is fit for the mill."" What are those negroes doing there, Harry, somewith knives, some on their knees, and others with axes,chopping off heads and tails," cried Madeline, turningin her saddle, and pointing to a multitude of laughing,chattering negroes of both sexes, all actively employedin various branches of the work." Those men on their knees are cutting the canebelow the ground, as you have seen the gardener doasparagus; the women and boys run with the canes tothe blocks on the left, where negroes cut off all theleafy part of the top, which is carried away in thoselow carts, to be stacked up in the stock-yard for foodfor the horses and oxen; they then turn the cane round,and chop about half a yard off the bottom, which othernegroes, you see, are taking away to the wood-house,to be used for fuel for the fires of the hacienda."" Yes, yes, I see all that; but what are those blackmIen running so fast for with the canes they havehopped ?""If you turn your mustang's head to the right, youwill see that they carry those canes to a number of men,who cut them into lengths of about a yard long, whichothers gather up into bundles, and run away with tothe mill. Before I tell you the reason of that, I wishyou to taste the juice of the cane again." So saying,Hlenriquez untied the piece he had hung to the bamboo,

THE PLANTER'S SON.and with his knife opening another joint offered it tohis pretty companion, who, after a momentary draughtof the juice, handed the cane back with looks of astonish-ment, as she exclaimed-" Why, it is not the same thing at all, this is wine,Harry; it was very naughty of you to play tricks, andgive me wine."" The sun did that, Madeline, it was no trick ofmine; that is the way all wine and spirit is made, as Iwill show you when we come to the ram-house; that iscalled fermentation. In half an hour longer that wine,as you call it, will be turned into vinegar.""You are joking, Harry," cried Madeline, openingher eyes to their fullest extent with a look of wonder-ment." Indeed I am not, Madeline; it is the truth.""What is done with the roots of the cane left in theground?" she suddenly demanded, again turning her headto the left, and evidently doubting what had beentold her."They are left to spring up again next year, whenthey are called rattoons, and will continue to grow foreven or eight years; and though every year gettingthinner and smaller, the juice becomes richer andstronger, and yields a larger quantity of sugar."" But why are the canes cut in some places and notin others ? I thought you would have cut them downright on, as you do wheat."" They are so arranged in the planting as to comeinto perfection one crop under another, for as the juicespoils so soon we can only cut as many at a time as themill can crush and the clarifiers boil. But it's goingto rain; and as we have seen all that's necessary about

THE PLANTER'S SON.growing and planting, we will leave the mills andsugar-house till to-morrow." And drawing a silverwhistle from his belt, Henriquez blew a shrill note,when every negro rose from his work, and gatheringup the fagots of canes, rushed off with them from theplantation." Why do you leave off work for a, little rain ?""Because the canes can only be cut in dry weather;the rain would get into the pith, and weaken the syrup,so as to injure the sugar. But come, as work is overI'll race you to the bridge, and bet my silver whistle Iam there before your mustang.""You won't beat Beauty, I know," she cried tri-umphantly."Yes, I will." And Henriquez and Madeline startedacross the clearing for the St. Francisco, and after awell-contested race of nearly ten minutes, the youthreached the suspension bridge that led to the hacienda,about twenty yards in front of the mustang and itsgraceful rider.IIl.THE AGOUTI-CABBAGE-TREE-THE CANE-MILLS-BOILING THESYRUP, AND MAKING THE SUGAR."OH, Harry, what are those funny little creatures,something like Guinea-pigs, that are running in andout among the sugar-canes ? do catch me one, and let melook at it," exclaimed Madeline, as she suddenly drewin her pony on the skirts of a large sugar plantation.Her companion, who at his uncle's desire had once

THE PLANTER'S SON.more mounted his own mustang, instead of replying tohis companion's remark, rose in his stirrups, andshouting at the top of his voice, made such a noise thatthe flock of little animals started off in all directions,some plunging into the ground, and others flying acrossthe broad savannah." Oh, you naughty boy," cried Madeline, pouting," you have frightened all the pretty things away, and Iwanted to see them eating their breakfasts, prettydears."" If you only knew how destructive those agoutesare," replied Henriquez, "and what a deal of mischiefthey do, you would not call them pretty dears."" What is their name, agouti ?""Yes; they resemble what they call in your countryrabbits."" Are those Brazilian rabbits ? What a shame, then,to drive them away."" Those little creatures live almost entirely on theroots of the rattoons, and in a few days will destroy anacre of canes.""Do you see that tree, Madeline, with the widearms and the long drooping leaves like ostrich feathers ?"" That immense tree, so very, very tall ?"" Yes; look at the very top, and tell me what yousee."" Oh, what is it, Harry? something white, andround, and big, like-yes, like a cauliflower.""Well, that white something," replied Henriquez,laughing, " tastes just like almonds; but how high doyou think that tree is ?""I don't know; ten times taller than papa ?""More than thirty times; it is two hundred feet

THE PLAfibER'S SON.high. I mean to climb up it and get you some of thatalmond to eat."" You shall not do anything so foolish. I won't letyou."" Oh, but I will; look." And touching his mustanghe galloped up to the tree, suddenly reined in his horse,sprang erect in the saddle, and before Madeline couldreach the spot, bounded on one of the dwarf branches,and ran up from blighted knot to knot, till Madeline,through her tears and apprehension, beheld him standerect on the highest limb.After cutting off some portion of the object he hadindicated, Henriquez, in the same easy and confidentmanner in which he had ascended, came rapidly downthe tree, and dropping into his saddle, approached hiscompanion, extending a piece of the cocoa-nut-likesubstance, saying, "Here, Madeline, taste how niceit is."" I am very angry with you for frightening me so.I told you not to go.""Don't be afraid of me, Madeline, I can climb anytree. Is it not nice ?" he inquired, as she began to eatthe substance given to her." It is indeed just like almonds. What is it ?"" It's a cabbage."" Nonsense."" It is indeed. We call this the cabbage-tree. Thisis the young leaf, and that round thing you see up therein the centre is the cabbage, or fruit, which, whenboiled, is eaten with salt meat like a vegetable. Butnow let us go and look at the mills, and see how sugaris made." And putting their horses to a canter, theyouthful pair soon found themselves at the back of the

THE PLANTER'S SON.plantation, and approaching the busiest part of themanufactory."I don't see any windmills, or watermills either,"she observed, after a survey of the country." The Brazilian sugar-mills are very different thingsfrom either, Madeline. Ours are turned by mules, andnot by wind or water."" Cannot sugar be got from anything but cane ?"" Yes, honey is a kind of sugar, and was used tosweeten and make strong liquor with before sugar wasobtained from the cane. Since then chemists havefound out that sugar can be got from the sap of allvegetables. Palm, birch, maize, parsnips, and ash treesyield it. The Americans make sugar from the maple-tree, and the French have made it from beetroot.But here comes Sambo, with a proper umbrella thistime," he cried, as the young negro suddenly dartedfrom among the canes with a large round awning nearlyflat, with crimson fringe, fitted to the end of a longbamboo."Oh, Harry, what are those men doing there,thumping at something ?" she inquired, when the plea-sant shade enabled her to look about with comfort." Let us go and see it; it is one of our clumsiestmills, and is only used when the sugar must be madeat once. You see, it is something like a mortar," hecontinued, as they reached the rude awning under whichthe work was being carried on, "only it has got agroove at the bottom for the juice to run off by intothose buckets, and this stone they pull up and let fall isthe pestle. Look, as Caesar puts in those choppedpieces of cane, the stone falls on them, and all the juiceis beaten out and runs into the bucket, when the splin-

THE PLANTER'S SON.ters of cane, which the planters call waste, and thenegroes trash, are scraped out, and fresh pieces of caneput in.""But what do they do with the trash, and where dothey take the buckets of juice ?" inquired his inquisitivecompanion, nothing escaping her quick and vigilant eyes." Oh, the waste is very valuable, both for manureand fuel. What those boys do with the buckets youwill see when we come to that row of huts and shedsyonder. This," he observed, as they halted in front ofa line of sheds, and pointed to a large narrow frame ofwood, like an immense table with sides, having threerollers bound with iron hoops fitted into it, so as toturn round, when by means of wheels and cranks theywere set in motion,-" this is one of the sugar-mills,and if you. watch from your saddle, I will explain howit works." And throwing his bridle to Sambo, Henri-quez stepped into the shed, where numbers of negroeswere all busily employed. " Two negroes you see, called"feeders,' put in the pieces of cane from the faggots atthe upper end," he continued, explaining what the menwere doing. " Spreading them out smooth, the teethin the first roller drag them forward, crushing andpassing them on to the second and third roller, squeez-ing out all the juice, which runs off into this vat, byThese pipes let into the lower end. Now, you see, theyare taking out the splinters' or waste, and the others atthe top are feeding the mill again. And this goes ontill all the cane is crushed by the three mills you seehere at work.""Yes, yes, I see all that, Harry; but I don't seeanybody turning those round,-what do you call them ?rollers. How is that done ?"

THE PLANTER'S SON."Now then you can see what moves them," criedHarry, as he opened a door at the, back, and exposed adouble yoke of mules, slowly circling round an uprightpost." What are they emptying into that cistern ?""That is the juice from the canes you saw thempounding in the mortar mill, and is of the same colouras that from this mill. Do you remember what hap-pened to the cane you tasted yesterday ?""Yes, it turned into wine and then into vinegar."" Well, if that juice were to remain for twenty mi-nutes untouched, it would ferment and become like wine,and in another twenty minutes would be changed intovinegar."" Then you couldn't get any sugar ?""Not a bit.""How do you prevent it then from doing so ?""By boiling."" By boiling What good does that do ?"" It turns the liquid into a solid, and makes sugarout of syrup. But let me help you off your horse, andif you can bear the heat of the sheds for a few minutes,I'll show you how it is done." And gallantly going upto the young lady, he carefully lifted her from the saddle,while Sambo, who had taken the "nigger horse," ashe called the black pony, exclaimed in a burst ofdelight-"Oh, massa, Massa Henriquez! emu! emu! makehim hurry, massa; emu no stay," as he pointed to somemoving dots seen at a distance." Oh, they are safe enough for half an hour," repliedthe boy, as turning to Madeline he inquired, " are youfond of hunting ?"

THE PFLA"., LR'S SON."I don't know, I never did hunt. But what is emu?""It's another name for the American ostrich. Theyare sure to stop to feed for some time, so come alongand see how sugar's made first.""Dear me, what an immense boiler," observed )Ma-deline, holding up her hands in amazement, as theystopped before a broad flat copper, from which steamwas beginning to rise, from a fire crackling below it."This is called a pan or clarifier, and is the largeston the plantation. This one holds a thousand gallons ofsyrup." What white stuff is that the negroes are scatteringinto it ?"" Quick as they are in boiling the juice as soon ascollected, it will sometimes get a little sour; so to killthat tartness, that white powder or lime, called temper,is stirred into it. Besides destroying the acid, the limemakes all the grounds, bits of cane, and impuritiescome to the top in a scum."The fire drives off a great deal of the water, and whenenough has been boiled away, by putting this woodengutter under the tap in the clarifier-see, here it is-itall runs into this large shallow copper, called the evapo-rating pan, where it is again boiled, and fresh limeadded to bring up more impurities, which are at thistime carefully skimmed off with large iron spoons.""But, Harry, how do you know when it is boiledenough ?""I'll show you; come here, Madeline, look here,"and he took her to a pan from which the fire had justbeen drawn, when taking a plate of copper, he placed afew drops of the boiling syrup on its cold surface,where, in a few seconds, it congealed into a mass like

THE PLANTER'S SON.honey. "Now, if this is boiled enough," continuedHenriquez, "when I touch this with my finger, itshould draw out into long threads like silk; so it does;do you see ?" and he displayed a thread of crystallizedsugar like spun glass. " That's the way I make mybarley sugar; you shall have some to-morrow.""( What is in these tubs just like wet sand ?" askedMadeline, moving to a row of wooden coolers." That is the sugar in the first stage after being runoff from the evaporating pan; the syrup hardens intothat condition.""And what are these men doing, shovelling it intothose great casks, and what is that dripping out at thebottom ?"" This wet sugar, which you call sand, is put intothat row of casks, the bottom of each being bored fullof holes, that the dark syrup still left in it may run offinto those vats below them. That black looking stuffis called molasses, and sometimes treacle."" Is that treacle !" exclaimed Madeline; " that is toeat on bread, is it not, Harry ?"" No, we never eat it, we make rum of it," he repliedwith a slight tone of contempt."4 Rum, out of treacle! nonsense, I don't think so,and you are laughing at me.""Have you forgotten the wine out of the sugar-cane,and the vinegar ?"" No; but- i it really true ?"" I always speak the truth," he replied, proudly." Well, don't be cross, I didn't mean anything. Howlong must the sugar stay dripping there before it isquite dry ?""About a month altogether; when all the molasses

THE PIANTrER'S SON.have run off, a little water is poured over the top of thesugar, which washes away any that might be left in it.It is then broken up, aiid packed in those big casksthey call hogsheads.""Massa massa! emu go !" cried Sambo from theextremity of the shed." Come, Madeline, we will leave the refining of thesugar till to-morrow, and have a scamper after thoseostriches, what do you say, emu hunting is suchsport ?"" Oh I should like it so very much."Henriquez, without another word, grasped his com-panion by the waist, and lifted her into the saddle, andled her mustang some distance from the huts, thenleaping into his seat, and pointing in the direction of thestill visible birds, encouraged her by voice and gestureto join in the pursuit; while Sambo, knowing hisservices as shade-bearer would be no further required,threw down his parasol, followed rapidly after, andwith such haste, that before many minutes had elapsedhe was keeping his place between both animals, while aflock of some eight or ten ostriches, with expandedwings, only a few hundred yards in advance, were seenskimming along the plain, and travelling at an extra-ordinary speed.AN EMU-HUNT-CATCHING AN OSTRICH WITH THE LASSO-THE GUACHO'S WARFARE-REFINING SUGAR.So hot and exciting was the chase, that neither of themounted pursuers had as yet had time to say another

THE PLANTER'S SON.word. They had followed the flock for more than amile, before Henriquez, turning to address Madeline,perceived the young negro as he kept his steady posi-tion between, but a little behind the mounted hunters."Notice, Madeline," cried Henriquez, pointingahead, " in how perfect a line the birds keep straightbefore us, I mean to have that big fellow in the centre,he's the captain and parent of the band, and when Ihave caught him I'll give him to you to tame. Sambo,my lasso."" Now see, Madeline, I'll stop him before he reachesthat fancied shelter," at the same instant he rose in hisstirrups, and launching the lasso with all his force, suc-ceeded in lodging the noose round the emu's leg andflinging him on his back; but unfortunately, at the samemoment, his horse stumbled, and before the rider hadtime to recover his seat, flung him for some distanceover his head. Madeline believing he must have beenkilled by the fall, gave a cry of terror, sprang off hermustang, and rushing to her prostrate companion, satdown by his side, and began with the utmost haste toexert herself in his recovery, at the same moment thenegro darted forward in hot pursuit, for the lassohaving escaped from Henriquez's hand, the emu rose, andtaking advantage of his liberty, again spread his wingsin rapid flight. Sambo, however, was too active forhim, and after a race of a few hundred yards contrivedto throw himself on the cord, and jerking it with all hisstrength, flung the ostrich once more on his back, thenrising and casting himself on its body, so intimidatedthe emu, that when he had removed the lasso from theleg, and secured it on the neck, and it rose to its feet,Sambo leaped on its shoulders between the wings, and

THE PLANTER'S SON.the bird became perfectly tractable, and when after.wards the boy turned his feathery steed in the directionof his fallen, and, as he believed, uninjured master, helooked like a young Arab of the desert.Though for an instant stunned by his fall, the grasswas so elastic, that by the time Madeline had reachedhim, Henriquez had recovered his consciousness, andwhen she raised his head, and with tears inquired if hevas hurt, he was able to sit up and answer her, thoughhis first exclamation was one of mortification and annoy-ance; the result of shame at having performed his featso clumsily, just, too, after boasting what he was goingto do; besides, he was vexed at the loss of his captive." It was not your fault, Harry; I saw the ponystumble, and you did catch the bird," she said sooth-ingly ; " so don't be vexed. I am so glad, so very glad youhave not been hurt; don't think any more about the ropeand ostrich, nasty, ugly thing; look there, if that is notSambo riding on the bird, and leading my runawayBeauty. Did you ever see anything so ridiculous ?" andshe laughed with unrestrained joyousness at the gro-tesque appearance of the boy, as, on his extraordinarylooking steed, he came flying along, dragging Made.line's mustang, who, terrified at the unusual group thathad him in charge, was rearing and snorting with everymark of terror, while compelled to follow the heedlessSambo and the powerful bird."Here, mass, me catch him, but him berry strong,"observed the negro, as giving the lasso a powerful twist,he halted the emu by nearly garrotting him with thenoose. " You put misse top of her hoss, and let dis erenigger ride home where him is. Here, misse, herebuckra feather, one, three, two, dye red, bru, brack for

THE PLANTER'S SON.misse hat," and in his exultation, Sambo extended hishand behind, and clutched the bird's fine tail-feathersto show how valuable was the prize. But evidentlyresenting the liberty taken with his plumage, or deem-ing this the most intolerable indignity of the day, thebird brought down his sharp bill with such force on thatmost sensitive part of a negro's person, his shins, that.0 Ad-legs with such a sudden movement, as to throw himfrom his balance. The emu at the same time completinghis discomfort, rolled him from his back, and instantlydarted off at an increased speed, dragging Sambo, whostill retained a hold of the lasso, after him over the plainlike a log of ebony; the laughter excited by the absur.dity of the proceeding, with the struggling boy's endea-

THE PLANTER'S SON.vour to regain his feet, from which he was repeatedlyjerked, only to be whirled along now on his face, thenext moment on his back or side, till again gaininghis knees, he was shot off them in an instant, andwhirled over the grass and uneven plain like a boatin a rough sea.It was some time before Henriquez was able, fromhis immoderate laughter, to place Madeline in her saddleor mount his own horse and follow in the direction inwhich the emu and its prisoner were already fast dis-appearing. Before the pair, however, with all theirhaste, could overtake the fugitives, the negro had, by adesperate effort, contrived to regain his feet, and thoughbruised and exhausted, he, by his ape-like bounds, con-trived eventually to leap with surprising cleverness onthe irritated bird's back; when he began with his longbony heels to kick and spur the unfortunate emu, who,feeling the hopelessness of all further resistance, at oncegave in, and relaxing its pace, became perfectly obedient." Massa Henriquez, show misse how de Guacho rideim hoss, dis here nigger cut 'im golly long rattoon for'im spear," exclaimed Sambo, looking up in his master'sface for an approval, and taking the smile he saw thesuggestion excited, for an assent, instantly jerked theemu's head round, and delivering a few blows on thehead with his fist, and a stab on each side with hislong heels, set the bird off at a speed that soon carriedemu and rider beyond the range of sight."That's just the thing, Sambo," cried Henriquez,springing from his horse as the negro returned, anddivesting his mustang of saddle and bridle, untying theribbons with which his mane had been so tastefully orna-pented, and scattering the long hair loose, so as to give

THE PLANTER'S SON.the animal as wild an appearance as possible, and takingthe long bamboo from Sambo's hand, said-"I am going to show you how the Guachos, oinatives of the Pampas, ride their horses, and go to war.This cane you must suppose to be my spear. TheseGuachos are the best horsemen in the world, and willgo at full speed hanging by their toes and teeth; thisway." And taking off his shoes and stockings, andembroidered jacket, he began to illustrate the mannerin which the Indian and Guacho of the plains cling totheir wild horses. "He grasps the hair of the tail be-tween his toes, and taking a handful of the mane inhis left hand, hangs this way along the flank of hishorse, keeping his spear close to his body," he remarked,throwing himself in an instant into the position described." The great art is to come on the enemy unawares, andwhen they believe it is only a drove of wild horses ap-proaching, and then, when fairly upon them, each manleaps on his horse's back, and launches his fatal spear."And almost before he had finished speaking, Henriquezhad flung himself out of his former attitude, and sittingerect, poised his bamboo as if about to hurl the javelin."But you cannot ride without saddle or bridle,Harry ?"" Oh, can't I; just look here;" and grasping hishorse by the ear, and driving his heels into his flanks,the conscious beast darted off like the wind, and horseand rider were soon beyond reach or hearing. Afterscouring the plain for a considerable distance with hishead almost resting on the horse's counter, and his bodycontracted into the smallest compass, he turned hisanimal without once checking his speed, and twininghis legs under his mustang's neck, flung himself back.

THE PLANTE' S SON.wards, and thus extended on the ridge of his horse, wentthrough all the evolutions with the spear practised bythe Indians, till approaching the spot where Madelinestood, he leaped round so as to change his position in amoment, sitting with his back to the horse's neck,while he launched his bamboo as if against a pursuingenemy.While Madeline, in her enjoyment of Henriquez'sskill, was waving her handkerchief with delight, therider had induced his docile mustang to raise his headin such a position that, making a seat of his neck, andadjusting the different pieces of cane he had snatchedfrom Sambo, he drew a piece of deer's sinew from hispocket, and tying it to both ends of the bamboo, soonstrung a very servicable bow, the other pieces being in-tended for arrows. No sooner had Henriquez preparedhis implements than he placed himself at full lengthalong the back of his horse, when fitting his reeds tohis bow, he shot three or four in rapid succession almostvertically; then drawing up his legs, and placing thearch of the bow against his feet, and fitting a largerpiece of cane as an arrow, drew the cord with bothhands up to his chin, when the missile flew with suchvelocity that it was impossible to trace its flight, sogreat was the force with which it had been propelled;another and another followed with equal force till allhis arrows had been expended.Flinging away his bow, Henriquez now placed him-self in every conceivable attitude, upon the back, at theside, and actually under the belly of his horse, some-times hanging by the mane and tail, or varying hisevolutions by running, as if for shelter, at the shoulderof his steed, and then in a moment bounding back into

THE PLANTER'S SON.his seat; till dashing past Madeline, he threw himself tothe earth as if dead, when the well-trained mustangchecked himself in the midst of his flight, and seizingthe prostrate body by the girth of his trousers, gallopeda few times in wild speed round Madeline, who, but forthe grin of delight on Sambo's face, would have shriekedin terror, when he suddenly paused, and gently layingdown his burthen, stood perfectly still till his master,with a laugh, sprang from the ground, and caressedhim for his exertions." Oh, Harry, Harry who taught you all those strangeand wonderful tricks ?" exclaimed his companion indelight, hurrying up to his side." They are not tricks, Madeline; they are the warpractices of the Indians; and a Guacho, who was halfan Indian, and the most famous rider of all the BrazilianPampas, taught them to me, because my mother was thedaughter of a great cacique."" This is the refining-house," observed Henriquez,as soon after he led Madeline into a long series of opensheds. "The finest moist sugar is mixed with waterand boiled with lime, eggs, or bullock's blood, to bringto the top all impurities, again boiled, evaporated, andcrystallized till it looks like snow. This white sugaris then put into those conical moulds-like large ex-tinguishers with their points downwards, for the moistureto run off through a hole at the apex; a cake of clay isthen pressed on the broad top, and a little water pouredon the clay; this water works its way through the wholemass, carrying down any syrup that may adhere to thesugar, and which, if left, would discolour the loaf.Those long frames, full of rows of pointed moulds, arethe cakes standing to dry and drip. They are, last of

THE PLANTER'S SON.all, taken to the ovens and baked, when they are packedup and sent to Europe as loaf or refined sugar. Lookround, and you will see all the operations I have de-scribed going on, for, as the place is unpleasantly hot,we will not go into it; you see them here boiling,evaporating, filling, and claying; and yonder, where thenegroes are so lightly dressed, is the bakehouse.V.HENRIQUEZ REWARDECD-THE SEPARATION-RETURN TOENGLAND-AND CONCLUSION.IN due course of time a long-anticipated picnic partyto the Salts Licks took place, and the active Henriquezhad a favourable opportunity, by the capture of a youngbull with the lasso and an antelope with the bolas, to re-deem his character as an expert huntsman in the eyesof Madeline, and afford gratification to the whole partywho witnessed his coolness and ability. At the inter-cession of Madeline, the bull was allowed to escape andrejoin its companions of the startled herd; but the ante-lope, which he had caught expressly for Madeline thatshe might tame it, looked so earnestly in her face andseemed so helpless and desolate, that the tender-heartedgirl could not bear to part with so interesting an objectgazing at her with its large, intelligent eyes, and there-fore begged that she might be allowed to keep and makei friend of her gazelle, as she called the graceful youngantelope, that, perfectly subdued by having its legssuddenly taken from under it by the bolas, crouchedtimidly beside its young mistress, secured only by aband of vine withes, from which Madeline plucked the

THE PLANTER'S SON,ripe bunches of fruit, and from time to time fed thedependent creature.This, to the young people, great day of enjoymentbeing passed, and Henriquez having shown Arthur andElinor all the marvels and mysteries of the cane planta-tion and sugar-houses, and explained to them and Made-line how rum was made, by first fermenting a mixtureof molasses and water, and then distilling the liquor,the product being the spirit; he took the party to thewoods, showed them the beautiful birds whose gorgeousplumage of black, scarlet, and yellow, and almost ofevery shade and mixture of colour, makes the dark forestseem alive with brilliant hues, and pointed out the tinydoves that fall like flakes of snow on the tops of the hightrees, whose almost black foliage, throws out their whiteplumage in bold contrast. From the woods andorchards he had taken them to the indigo factory, shownall the process of planting, growing, and picking of thecotton plant, the discomforts of rice-setting; and then,having seen all the farming operations of the estate, notomitting the cultivation of the maize or Indian corn,there remained nothing more that Henriquez couldexplain, except the flowers and fruits of the gardens andorchards round the hacienda.In this manner several months passed away in im-parting useful instruction and in the most delightfulrambles, which served to bind the youthful party to-gether in the closest bonds of harmony and affection;the only cloud that obscured the happiness of the youngpeople was the fear of an approaching separation-afear which, on Henriquez's side, amounted at times to astate of painful distress.It was not till within a month of the departure of

THE PLANTER'S SON.Mr. Staunton, as the two families of Don Alvarez andhis English visitors sat over their wine and fruit in thecool verandah of the mansion, the younger childrenplaying on the sloping lawn among the beds of exquisiteflowers, while Henriquez, Arthur, and Madeline, sittingon ottomans behind the older members of the party,engaged on some youthful play or recreation, when Mr.Staunton, peeling a shaddock Henriquez had justhanded him, observed-"Harry, my boy, how would you like to go with meto England, to be in fact my son, to live with me, andbecome one of my family; what do you say; shouldyou like it ?"The question was put so abruptly that for an instantHenriquez hardly understood the meaning of the words;he, however, dropped the tempting fruit he was prepar-ing for Madeline, and rose to his feet, his eyes dilating,and his cheeks becoming almost white, then flushing ofa bright scarlet under the influence of his excited feel-ings: but when, after a momentary pause, Mr. Staun-ton repeated, " Should you like it ?" he was about tohasten forward when his hand was seized behind bysome soft pressure, and the words, " Say yes, say yes,"from Madeline, fell on his ears.Casting a glance of tender sympathy on the speaker,Henriquez came forward, and seizing Mr. Staunton'shand, said, with strong emotion-"Oh sir, do not deceive me! Without any dis-respect to my uncle, whom since your coming I havelearned to respect and love, there is nothing in theworld that would give me so much pleasure as goingwith you to England, and proving myself worthy ofbeing thought deserving of your protection and notice."

THE PLANTER'S SON."How would you be able to maintain yourself; whatwould you do for a living ?" inquired Mr. Staunton,without removing his hand from the boy's grasp." Work, sir; work night and day. I am young andstrong, and I am sure I will gain your respect.""You have got it already, my boy, and my esteemwith it," replied Mr. Staunton, patting the youth on theback. " I only put the question to try you; you arehenceforth my adopted son; your uncle has consentedto my taking you with me, and we have arranged be-tween us for your future prospects in life."The delight of Henriquez at the intelligence of suchunlooked-for good fortune, coupled with the kindlywords of the speaker and the looks of affection andtenderness in the eyes of his uncle and aunt, and espe-cially of Mrs. Staunton, quite deprived him of all powerto express the feelings of gratitude that rose to hisheart, and for a moment kept him in a state of speech-less amazement.Rousing himself, with an effort, he said with emotion,"I thank you more than I can say." Then turning toDon Alvarez, he continued, " Uncle, I will endeavourto merit your love by my future conduct; you havegiven me the first wish of my heart."Madeline, who had hurried out of the verandah, atthat moment returned with Elinor, whom she had in-formed of what had taken pla ce, and now in their delightat the news, for they had all grown to love him as abrother, rushed joyfully up to Henriquez to congratu-late and rejoice with him on the fortunate event thatwas in future to make him one of their own family.From that time forward, every day was as a newera of enjoyment and happiness to the young people;

THE PLANTER'S SON.and no opportunity was allowed to escape in whichHenriquez did not explain something new to the brotherand sisters in reference to one or other of the planta-tions, showed them how sugar candy was made, bypouring the syrup down threads till it crystallized, andbarley sugar by drawing the syrup out into sticks, andcutting them into uniform lengths, till there remainednothing further to explain in respect to the use or pre-paration of that necessary article, sugar.A fortnight before the time of departure bothfamilies repaired to the capital to make preparations forthe voyage, and allow Henriquez an opportunity ofpassing the last few days of their stay in Brazil in thesociety of his mother. At length every arrangementbeing made, the family embarked for England.As the taut merchantman moved slowly from theshore, and neared the entrance of the bay, Mr. Staunton,who, with his family and a few other passengers, stoodon deck admiring the extreme beauty of the scene, tookoccasion to impart to Madeline, and particularly Hen-riquez, all the points in the magnificent landscape, andexplain the nature of the different objects perpetuallyrising on the sight, in that the most lovely situation onthe entire southern continent of America." Oh, papa !" exclaimed Madeline, in a burst of ad-miration, " what a soft and lovely scene it seems almosttoo beautiful to be real."" It is indeed a charming spot," replied her father." Those small islands, clothed with every species ofvegetation, from the tallest palm to the smallest shrub,and so densely covered with foliage, with wreaths ofwild grape, garlands of flowers, and blossoms of everyhue and shape, that the margin of the land on every

THE PLANTER'S SON.side seems lost in overhanging boughs and petals thatfloat round their edge; while so clear is the water ofthe bay that it gives back, as from a mirror, everycolour flung upon it.""Oh, Harry, look at those lovely little birds, withwings of blue and gold, that sit oh the brim of thatcluster of water-lilies," cried Madeline, drawing hercompanion's attention to what had attracted her ob-servation." They are not birds, Madeline," replied her father;"those gorgeous insects, nearly as large as humming-birds, but whose bodies are so light that they do notbend the delicate flowers, on which they rest to sip thedew, are butterflies. But see, we are passing the fortswhich guard the mouth of the Bay of Rio Janeiro, andyonder, through that narrow opening, Harry, you see,for the first time, the South Atlantic.""Is that the wide Atlantic ?" exclaimed the youth,his eyes glistening at the prospect of entering on thatmighty ocean." It is; take your last view of this calm and lovelyscene, for in half an hour we shall double the headlands,and before night shall have made so good an offing, thatI expect by sunrise to have caught the 'trades;' and ifso, we may probably run to the latitude of the Azoreswithout taking in a reef, tightening a brace, or touchinga line in the rig of the ship."" I wish, sir, you would tell me something aboutthe trade winds, and what is the cause of winds andtempests," asked Henriquez, as his guardian concluded." Willingly, Harry; but you must wait till we catchthem first," replied Mr. Staunton, laughing, "and thenI will gladly explain the theory."

THE PLANTER'S SON."What is the difference, Mr. Staunton, between themonsoons and the trade-winds?" inquired Henriquezthe following afternoon, when all her hamper set, alowand aloft, the ship pursuing a north-north-east coursebefore the steady breeze, held her solitary way over thelong, heavy swell of the Atlantic."Only this, Harry, that the periodical winds thatblow for six months in one direction, and the next sixmonths in the opposite quarter, are called monsoonswhen they blow in the Pacific and trade-winds in theAtlantic Ocean, though the force of the monsoon ismuch greater than that of the trade."" What is the force, sir ?"" The velocity or speed at which the wind travels."" Can you measure the speed of the wind as you canof a horse, sir ?"" Certainly; wind travels at the rate of from onemile to a hundred miles an hour: when the wind blowson land from eighty to ninety miles an hour, it tearsup trees, throws down houses and steeples, strips plant-ations, and is called, what you have no doubt oftenwitnessed, a hurricane."" And at sea, sir, what are they called ?"" Tempests in the Atlantic, and typhons in the Indianand China seas ?""Can you tell the young people," observed Mrs.Staunton, for the whole party were as usual on deck," how wide is the track the wind makes ?"" The track of the wind, or its breadth," resumedthat gentleman, "is generally reckoned at from 100 to250 miles. You must not suppose, however, that tem-pests and hurricanes blow in straight lines; all stormsare now known to blow in circles, the circles gradually

THE PLANTER'S SON.widening from where the tempest begins to where itbreaks."" Then storms and tempests are only whirlwinds ?"" Nothing more, Harry."Mr. Staunton had been so far correct in his remarks,that they might cross the Atlantic without taking in areef, that for more than a week not a sail had beenaltered, or any sensible change made in the trim of theship. Towards the tenth evening, however, an unusualgloom settled on all around, and a sullen leaden colourseemed to envelop both sky and water, the breeze diedaway till the sails hung loose and flapping against themasts; at the same time the darkness became so in-tense, that it was impossible to see half the length ofthe vessel.As the darkness increased the swell or waves of theAtlantic fell, till the ocean became as tranquil as alake, and nothing could be heard through the generalgloom but that low mysterious sigh of the vast ocean,that at such moments falls on the ear with an almostsupernatural sound." This sudden darkness and unusual stillness of theair and water," observed Mr. Staunton, addressing hisfellow-passengers and family, as they grouped togetherby the taffrail, and speaking in a low and hesitatingvoice, "foretells a storm; at least, I have generallyfound it to be so in these latitudes."Scarcely had the words passed his lips, when, asif by magic, the ocean, that had lain like a sea of inkunder the ship's quarter, was lighted up by millions offlashing atoms of fire, like tiny globes of light, which,bursting from the pitchy darkness of the water, seemedto pave the bosom of the deep with countless myriads of

THE PLANTER' S SON.stars, while, as far as the eye could penetrate, the wholesurface of the ocean seemed covered with these twink-ling sparks of fire.The burst of admiration and surprise with which theyouthful part of the company surveyed these wondersof the deep had hardly found expression, when Mr.Staunton directing their attention overhead, they beheldevery brace and shroud, halyard and block, the wholehamper of the ship, like one vast web of silver, as themeteoric light flitted from point to point, and flashedalong the rigging.Mr. Staunton had hardly time to explain to the partythat this sparkling appearance in the sea was caused bynumbers of animalcule giving off their phosphorescencelike glow-worms, and inform them that the electricity inthe air was causing the peculiar luminous appearanceon the booms and gear of the ship, when the captain'svoice was heard calling up the watch, and ordering allthe ladies and young people below. The next instant,as suddenly as they had appeared, every spark of lighton sea and mast had vanished."All hands aloft, strike topmasts, all sail in !"shouted the captain through the darkness, as a lowmoaning sound came creeping over the water. " Steadythere; ease her off half a point; look out, it's coming !"The next moment, with a rush and hiss, and a deafeningroar of waters, a terrific wave struck the ship, throwingher on her &eam ends, while wave on wave broke infoam and thunder over the prostrate vessel, that, caughtin a white squall, was flung for several minutes like alog on the boiling deep.By good seamanship, however, the barque soon roseon her keel, and the squall having passed off almost as

THE PLANTER'S SON.suddenly as it came on, sail was once more made, andthe gallant craft was again seen rising and falling onthe long Atlantic swell, before the steady breath of thetrade-winds."But, papa, you have not told us what is the causeof wind, for I suppose there is a reason for that as forevery other circumstance in nature," observed Madeline,a few days after the night of the squall."The causes of all kinds of wind, whether a gentlebreeze or a violent storm, are the same in every case,and they are electricity and heat. The heat of the suncauses the air to expand, become lighter, and rise higher;upon which the colder air rushes in to fill up the emptyspace.,""And is that the cause of the rushing noise we hearthe wind make when it blows hard ?" inquired Hen-riquez, who had listened with great interest to Mr.Staunton's explanations." It is so, Harry; and according to the coldness ofthe air and the space left by the warm air, the noisemade is either a sighing gale or a deafening tempest."The cry of " Land ho !" ten days later brought everyinmate of the cabin on deck to witness the first of theAzores, as the island of St. Michael broke on the viewwith its volcanic hills, fringed to their base with everyvariety of tropical tree and plant, and observe the multi-tude of beautiful land birds that flocked about therigging of the ship. The surf on the outer reef,however, was too heavy, the weather too doubtful, andthe wind blowing too strong to justify the captain instopping at the Azores, which, one by one, fvere soonlost in the misty horizon, as under close-reefed topsailsthe ship went staggering on before the freshening gale.

THE PLANTER'S SON.A favourable breeze, though blowing fresh andsqually, soon placed her in the chops of the channel,from which time Henriquez never quitted the deck, soanxious was he to catch the first sight of England, andnote all the headlands as they came in sight; and as theLizard was sighted, Falmouth passed, the Needlesthreaded, the Isle of Wight skirted, and Southamptonleft behind, with Dover and the Forelands, and tbhmajestic Thames, after a nine weeks' voyage, reached insafety, the delight of the youth was unbounded. Thenext day, for the first time since leaving Rio, the goodship dropped her anchor off Gravesend, from whenceMr. Staunton and his family proceeded by rail toLondon, leaving the vessel to float up to her mooringswith the succeeding tide.All that Mr. Staunton had promised his friend inrespect of Henriquez that gentleman faithfully per-formed, the future career of the family and the youngBrazilian being marked by a large share of prosperityAnd happiness.


--~~-- --__ --- --- --- ---------. _______ .7- ---_ _ _-_______________I; ..F C__ _ __ _ __ _ __ _ ~. HI R SFf"WHERE THE-~- RAI1;~ BQW RESTS LIES A CROCK OF GOLD."

--I- E ,shing village of Posv -llanSlow stretch of hethe coast of Cornwall. On either side of it the rouks begin"" *Lthe green waves little rok, very scant in summer,.INTRODUCTORY.stands on a low stretch of the" cliffs to westward of Rame Head, onthe coast of Cornwall. On either side of it the rocks beginto rise again, towering at last a giddy height abovethe green waves. A little brook, very scant in summer,prattles through the middle of the village, and flowshalf-swallowed up by the sands to join the sea, whichforms a small bay just here, where the fishing fleet ofPolvellan may anchor in comparative safety.A conspicuous object in Polvellan, as seen from thedeck of an outward-bound vessel, whose' course bring .B*

RAINBOW 0'S near the coast at this point, is a little white cottage,standing on a green lawn that covers a platform of cliffa little above the village itself. This little white cottage--a landmark to the pilots-is called "Rainbow'sRest." But if it forms a conspicuous object as seenfrom the water, it is still more sure to attract attention's you pass in front of it along the cliff-road leading toPlymouth.A good half of the little brook, diverted above toreturn to its old channel below, passes through thegarden; tumbling over a mimic waterfall in silverysheets. Behind the house rises a small plantation offirs-the only trees that can struggle effectually withthe salt sea breezes. Their sombre foliage throws intostrong relief the dazzling white walls of the cottage.In front, a smooth green velvety lawn, with a hedge ofevergreens, stretches down to the gate, with its granitepillars, on which, half-hidden by the ivy, can be readUhe words, " Rainbow's Rest."A circular carriage-drive sweeps round the central,lot of grass, in which there is a bed of lovely flowers,Jisposcd so quaintly that it is sure to arrest the eye ofthe most careless passer.The bed is sunk below the level of the lawn, and theflowers planted thickly in- it are so carefully trimmed,trained, and pegged down, that they are kept exactlyeven with the surface of the grass; so that in fact thegreensward seems tessellated with brilliant blossoms.The bed is semicircular in shape, and the flowers arearranged in concentric rows. The outer line consistsof violet verbenas, which gradually mingle with, andgive place to, deep blue dwarf larkspurs. They in theirturn become lost in the bright azure of the minor con-

RAINBOW'S REST.volvulus, after which comes a row of vivid green mig.nionette, followed by a line of brilliant yellow escholtzia.(I don't know the English name, or I would not descendto dog-Latin), and then rich orange nasturtiums. Afterthese succeed red geraniums.Looking at this bed from a little distance, as it lieson the rise of the lawn thus daintily arranged, you can-not help observing that the blending of the prismaticcolours so contrived produces a floral rainbow verypleasant to behold.On the right hand of the garden rises from a bed ofroses, and showing clearly against a yew hedge, a marblefigure of Iris, with her scarf fluttering round her head.This statue, which is the work of an Italian, has beenvery delicately tinted, and the faint hues as of a fadingrainbow adorn the flying drapery which encircles thehead.On the other side of the garden is a rustic summer-house. A window of stained glass sheds upon the floor,as the sunlight pours through it, the semblance of arainbow.There must clearly be some reason for this preva-lence of the are of promise. We will try to discover it,A fine old gentleman is lying on the lawn, smoking a.cigar, while a troop of children are gathered round him.If we listen to him, we may perhaps discover the mean-ing of the symbolism which makes "Rainbow's Rest"so remarkable.The children are clamouring for a story." But what is it to be about, little people ?" asksthe handsome old gentleman, his grey hair floating onthe breeze that comes bounding over the sea sofreshly.

RAINBOW'SS REST." What is it to be about ?" he repeats, for the chil.dren are puzzled to say.", Let it be about travels, and voyages, and disco-veries !" says Harry, the eldest boy, with the eager eyesand the sunburnt face." Or about the sea and shipwrecks !" cries Charlie,the second lad, who is cutting out a boat." Or let it be about-about love, and how they mar-ried and lived happily ever after !" says Grace, who isjust old enough to enjoy fairy tales, and has only latelyfinished the story of Prince Charming."Let it be about a naughty boy and a good girl !"says Eva. She is a very precise little body, a reader ofMrs. Barbauld's stories, and likes to have a moral toher tales.Every one of the children has given an opinion, withthe exception of little Lucy. Little Lucy is very youngyet. She is nursing a doll almost as big as herself, butshe is a dignified little lady, and as the others have theirsuggestions to make, she does not like to be silent. Atthe same time she has no choice to make, for she is tooyoung to read yet, and the only narratives she isacquainted with are about Little Bo-peep and MotherHubbard, and those she has from oral tradition. Soshe is quite at a loss for a subject. She, however, hasno intention of being beaten so easily, and looks abouther for a hint, and by chance her eye catches the brightflower-bed. Then she looks up very gravely in herfather's face, and says in her language, which is notquite English yet--"'Et him be 'bout a yainbow !"The grey-headed gentleman catches up Lucy andkisses her, an operation to which she submits with ber

BAMBOW'S REST.accustomed gravity. And then he throws away the endof his cigar, and says-" Well, trots all, I'll tell you a story that shall satisfyyou all round. For it shall be about travels and voy-ages, which is what Harry wants; and about the seaand shipwrecks, which is what Charlie wants; and aboutlovers, which is what Gracie wants; and about a naughtyboy and a good girl, which is what Eva wants. Andlast of all, it shall be about a rainbow, which is whatthat solemn young lady Miss Lucy desires. So now I'mgoing to begin."Thereupon the children clap their hands gladly, andsettle themselves in a ring upon the lawn round thestory-teller. A beautiful lady, who is seated on a lowbeehive chair near them, busily knitting, looks over andsmiles at the group."Silence, little people !" says papa, and then theyall say "Hush;" and even little Lucy holds up atiny forefinger in a peculiarly serious manner, and says" hush " too.And then the gentleman begins his story.IIXTHE GOLD FEVER.HARRY CAREW was the son of a small farmer, livingnear Ashburton, on a tiny handful of an estate, whichhad descended to him with the old name and diminishedfortunes of a once powerful family. The father hadaccepted his position contentedly, as his father andgrandfather had done before him. He was not too

RAINBOW'S REST.proud to follow the tail of his own plough, with itsstrange team of a horse, and an ox, with a donkey as anout-rigger. Clad in homespun, and with a horny hand,the descendant of Sir Godfrey Carew, of Castle Carew,did no discredit to his ancestry. He fought his fightbravely, held up his head honestly, and lived like one ofGod's own gentlemen-fearing Heaven, and honouringthe king.Unluckily, his son did not inherit this grand, simplenature. In an unfortunate moment the father had sentthis lad to school, where, to his credit be it said, hemade very rapid progress in his learning, but acquiredtastes and opinions beyond his rank. His mother wasdotingly fond of him, and, with a pardonable pride,used to dream of his making a figure in the world.She had a higher estimate of his really moderate powersthan was just, and in a weak moment filled his brainwith a vain and restless ambition, by telling him of theancient wealth and renown of the family. She eventold him-what might or might not be true, but whatshe at all events firmly believed-that the baronetcy ofCarew, which had been in abeyance for many a longyear, belonged to him of right. His first question onhearing this was-" Why should I not claim it ?" andshe had to explain to him that without ample means tosustain it, it would be worse than folly to grasp at theempty title. He was compelled with a sigh to admitthe truth of this.Then, first of all, crept into his mind the desire formoney. It began simply in the wish to win enough torestore the fortune of his family, and resume the lapsedtitle. But by and by the nobler origin of the longingwas overgrown by a craving for gold, for its own sake,

RAINBOW'S REST.and at length died out altogether, leaving nothingbehind it but a sordid passion for acquiring."Do you remember, Harry," said the gentleman,whose words I have for convenience sake thrown into anarrative form, " asking me the other day why I cutthat pretty trail of tiny ivy away from the trunk of thelarch ? By and by that graceful creeping snake of abough would have wound round the stem, higher andhigher, closer and closer, until it choked the very life-blood of the tree, and stunted, nay killed it. You seesuch ivy-grown dead trunks here and there in the,woods. They bear no leaf themselves; the delicatetasseled branches of the larch are replaced by the hardcold glistering wreaths of poisonous ivy. It is in thisway that ill weeds growing apace among tender flowersoverrun and destroy them. And so, too, will evilhabits, at first seemingly small and often overlookedamong the good qualities of a young mind, grow intime, if neglected, until they dwarf and stunt the virtues.The ivy-trails are graceful enough at first, and harmlessenough to all appearance, but they strangle oaks, andweigh down strong walls. So, little folk, let us keepour plantations clear of dangerous plants, and not sparethe keen pruning-knife, if need be !"Harry Carew's mother died soon after he left school-the happier perhaps that she did not live to see theunfortunate results of her indiscretion in filling herchild's mind with a restless desire for things far abovehis reach.He was really very fond of his mother, and was verylonely after she died. He had been almost constantly

RAINBOW'S REST.with her, for it was agreed by his parents that his edu-cation had fitted him for something more than a merefarm labourer, so he was never called upon to go outto work with his father. Some year when there was agood harvest they might be able to save enough toarticle him to Mr. Turner, the lawyer. So in the mean-time he was his mother's companion at home. Whenshe was laid in her grave, and Harry looked into it forthe last time, and took a farewell look through his tearsat the plain black coffin, whereon lay scattered thehandful of earth that had seemed just now to fall on hisown heart, he turned away to quite a different world.He wandered about the old house at home, lonely,melancholy, dissatisfied. The old house stood on alittle knoll in the midst of the small property whichremained to the Carews. It had once been surroundedon all sides by acre upon acre of fine land, the familyestate, but bit by bit that estate had been swallowed up,as if by a rising tide, in the increased prosperity of itsneighbours. The little knoll seemed really like anisland standing in the midst of the steadily rising floodof an inundation-the last refuge of some poor settler,who sees his crops and cattle swept away on all sides,and trembles as the swelling waters threaten his poorhome with destruction.The house had, to carry out the simile, been partlycarried away by the flood. Half of it had either beenpulled or had fallen down. The garden occupied whathad once been the banqueting-hall, and the stable andcow-house stood on the site of one wing of the building.The other had been converted into a barn. But whatremained of the old place was still more than wasneeded for the modest requirements of the Carews;

RAINBOW'S REST.and after deducting the apple-room, and the cheese-room, and the dairy, there were many empty chambers,and in these still lingered the traces of bygone grandeur.There were carved chimneys, and the remains of apainted ceiling, and some few moth-eaten hangingseven. In these solitary and sounding rooms, Harryused to wander after his mother's death, scheming,planning, hoping, and dreaming, creating a thousandimprobable, impossible visions of the future. His father,who in his quiet way felt his wife's loss to the full asdeeply as his son, had not the heart to interfere withthe lad, and left him to his own melancholy musings.Since the lad had grown " a scholar," as he called it,there seemed to have come into existence a graduallywidening gulf between. The influence of a commongrief might have bridged this over, but it was not to be.But you must not suppose the old man did not lovehis son. On the contrary, his unobtrusive nature wasfull of the deepest affection for him. His pride in hisboy was the one topic on which he was eloquent amonghis cronies, and never a night passed but he visited thesleeping lad's bed-room, and looked at him to bless him,and thank God for him, and pray for him. If he wasever conscious to himself of the separation-of the gulfI spoke of--it must have been a very terrible and tryinggrief to him. And he must have been, it seems probable,for there was a touch more of silver in his hair than hisage need have brought, and deeper furrows on his browthan his poverty could have produced.At this time there was a very fierce and devouringfever going through the land-the gold fever. Thediscovery of gold in California had spread the contagion,and far and wide men were flinging away paying and

EAINBOW'S RE ST.suitble occupations, to pursue the glittering phantomof Fortune. They pursued it across the sea to thedistant gold-fields, picturing them as Dick Whittingtonpictured London streets. But the fields were not soplentifully and plainly cropped with precious metal. Itwas a stern wrestle with Mother Nature for her riches,and she would not yield them to every one. Improvi-dence and Incompetence found that California was notas idle and profitable a place as Tom Tiddler's ground.They could not dig, and begging was waste of timeamong a population called into existence by the lust ofgain. So they sat down and starved. Some who hadbeen well-educated, who were accomplished and talented,found no better work to do than the blacking of boots,or the running of errands for hardy " navvies," whosoturn it was to be masters now, on the gold side of thewater. But hundreds could find no occupation, exceptto wander into the bush, to live on berries and roots,and finally to drop down and die, and become the preyof vultures and beasts of prey, or to fall victims to thewandering savages, who revenged on the remote suc-cessors of the avaricious Spaniards, the wrongs theirancestors had suffered at the hands of Pizarro. But thenews that went back over the sea was not of thesebankrupt, broken-down, famished hordes, but of thehandful of lucky, strong-armed, iron-framed men, whowrested the ore from Mother Nature's clutches. Theirsuccess found heralds and historians. No one cared towrite an epitaph for the failures.Whose ears should be readier than Harry's to catchevery rumour of the great discoveries ? He began tosee at last the opportunity which was offered to him forsatisfying his greed for gold. He grew restless. Ho

,RAINBOW'S REST.wandered to Ashburton morning and noon, and loiteredabout at the inns, picking up eagerly every scrap ofintelligence from the gold fields. Each fresh story ofsudden wealth increased his determination to try hisown fortunes; but the finishing stroke was put to it oneday by a conversation he had with the landlord of the" White Hart."" Whatever du e'e think, Measter Carew ?" saidmine host. " Ye mind our Jahn as were oazler hero,'reckon! Htur'z maad 'z fortin over yan to Californey.Hur's faaind a nugget, zo ee du ca'all 'un, zo big'z metu veasties, worth a zack o' money, 'reckon !"Harry asked if the landlord meant a certain hulking,uncouth help, who used to be employe'1 in changingthe horses for the Plymouth mail." Eez yon'z ee. Cu'den write hez na'ame, I telle'e, an' zo steup'd as a oole. Hur waz a main bra'avechap though, vur tu car' a wa'at more'n yeu nor I ceudheft, an' hur'd turn ower a ve'eld mazin' quick."Harry left the inn, and wandered home up the longstreet which constitutes the town of Ashburton. Heturned into the churchyard, and seating himself on atomb near his mother's grave, fell into a deep reverie.He compared himself with this ignorant half-brute ofwhose success he had been told, and he smiled as hethought of the certainty with which he should acquirewealth with his superior advantages." Do you remember," said the gentleman, turning toGrace, "how you laughed the other day at Charlie'sgreen baize frock, the one he made for the doll who isgoing to be married to the captain of his cutter ?""Oh yes, papa! such gobble-stitches and he didha'

RAINBOW'S REST.hem her skirt, and it was all cobbled up in lumps inthe body, because he hadn't cut it properly.""I think, do you know, Gracie, that if you andMiss Charlotte, that lovely wax doll your godmammagave you, were left on the shore of a desert island, andwanted to get home, you would make a sad bungle ofcutting out a boat like the one Charlie has been makingto-day."Charlie laughed at the idea, and said, "Wouldn'tshe just cut her fingers!""Well, you see, little folk, we each have our own line,and oan do our own sort of work best; so we shouldn'tlaugh at Charlie because he can't cut doll's clothes, orat Grace for not shining as a ship-builder, because, ifwe don't estimate rightly our own powers, we may fallinto a blunder like Harry Carew's, who sneered at Jackthe ostler, and thought himself far more likely to succeedat the diggings. Now the fact was that he could haveadded up a sum or written a copy far better than Jack,but, when spades were trumps, Jack could have dugover an acre while Harry was turning up a foot."Before he left the churchard, Harry Carew picked adaisy from his mother's grave, and folded it in one ofthe letters which his mother had written to him atschool, and which he had in his pocket-book. Whenhe reached home he found his father seated by thekitchen fire, smoking his pipe. He determined to findout whether he would approve of his trying his fortunesat the gold-fields. Now, there was one strong feelingexisting under the quiet exterior of the plain old farmer.It was, perhaps, an inherited relio of the patriarchalpride of the Carews; he had a violent horror of any.

RAINBOW'SS REST.thing like emigration, and spoke with the utmostseverity of men who ran " away from the country whereProvidence had placed them, and the station of life towhich they were called." There was the ghost of anoble pride and patriotic attachment to the place ofone's birth in this, though it was a prejudice.Harry was quite well aware of his father's strongfeeling on the point, and only made a trial of his in-clination in order to satisfy his own conscience. Hebroached the subject very carefully, and in a generalway, not at all intimating that he had seriously enter-tained the idea. But the old man would hardly listento him; he broke out into fierce invective against "therats who were frightened from England by the firstpinch of want," and a great deal more to that effect.Harry had hardly expected such a demonstration, buthe was not aware that his father had been already putout once during the day on this very topic. An oldcrony of his who rented the next farm had just toldhim he was going to sell up and start for Canada, " thetimes were too hard in England."Before they retired to rest of a night, the old manwas accustomed to read a chapter of the Bible aloud.On this evening he selected the story of Jacob andEsau, and when he came to the passage where the lattersold his birthright for a mess of pottage, which heimagined to be a case illustrative of his position on theemigration question, he read it with great impressive-ness and solemnity; but when he reached the end ofthe history, where the elder brother lost his father'sblessing, his severity gave way, and his eyes grew sodim that he was obliged to break off; and, under theimpulse of the moment, he laid his hand on his boy's

RAINBOW'S REST.head as he bad him " good night," and blessed himfervently, as if to ensure his son against such a loss asEsau's.He visited his son once again, according to his wont,the last thing, and blessed him yet again as he layapparently sound asleep. Then he closed the doorsoftly, and went to his own room, and was soon wraptin the deep, sound slumber which is earned by a clearconscience and honest, hearty labour.IIX;GOLDEN MORNING.MIDNIGHT was sounding from the tall tower of Ash.burton church, when Harry Carew opened his bed-roomwindow very quietly, and dropped from it to the softturf of the lawn beneath it, after having first flung outa small bundle. He had made up his mind to seek hisfortunes in the gold-fields, and he chose this secretmode of departure to avoid any open rupture with hisfather. Giving one last look at the old house wherehis childhood had been passed, he strode rapidly to thegate, not daring to glance behind him again lest theghost of bygone days should 'be following him. As hehurried through the narrow path, the straggling branchof a rose-bush caught him by the sleeve as though itwould have retained him, and bid him pause awhile.In vain-he broke loose from its grasp, and, flingingopen the gate, stood in the highroad. The wicket

RAINBOW'S REST.swang to with a soft sigh as of regret and sorrow, and,in the stillness of the night, he heard the low " Oo-oo-ooh !" of the owls, disturbed in the church tower by theclashing of the bell, as it smote out the tidings of mid-night.Harry Carew, like Adam, was about to take his waythrough the world which lay before him. He had madeap his mind to walk to Plymouth, where he would finda, ship ready to sail. He had a little store of money,but he wished to save that, and the distance was butsix and twenty miles. His first object was to bafflepursuit, and though he planned to do this in a verysimple way, that would have been seen through in amoment by a clever detective, it was quite crafty enoughto deceive those for whom it was intended.Instead of setting off towards Plymouth at once,Harry turned to his right up through Ashburton to the" George Inn," which was always open late on account ofthe heavy waggon changing horses there. He steppedinto the -bar for an instant, and took a glass of ale. Ashe expected, he met one or two that he knew, and theyof course were surprised to see him in travelling trimat such an hour, and questioned him. He told them hewas going across Dartmoor to take the early coach onthe north road for London, where he was going to tryhis fortunes. Having thus thrown his friends off thescent, he left the inn; but, instead of toiling up thesteep side of the basin of hills in which Ashburton lies,he turned round at the back of the " George" stables,crossed a cherry-orchard or two, and, passing downsome back lanes, emerged into the high road, at thelower end of the long straggling town. As he lookedback up the old familiar street, a feeling of melancholy

RAINBOW'S REST.passed over him, and for a moment he hesitated ere hecut himself adrift from home and friends. But the doubtwas but brief; so, suppressing a sigh, with a subduedwhistle he marched off with as bold a bearing as hecould contrive.He heard dear old Dart close at hand, brawling overthe broad stones and smooth pebbles where the biggesttrout loved to lie and watch for imprudent flies thatwould set out, despite the warning of their seniors, tomake their way in the world. Many and many a timehad he cast his line over that flashing, tumbling stream;he took a last look of it as of an old friend and school-mate, when presently he reached the bridge which spansits shallow bed not far from Ashburton. It was toodark to do more than catch glimpses of snowy foam orflakes of silver, where the light caught the surface at afavourable angle. But there was no time for delay, sohe plucked a spray of chestnut, just opening into milkyspikes of flower, and flung it over the parapet into theriver, as if it were to be an emblem of his career. Alas !the broken bough got no further toward the ocean thanthe further side of the bridge, before it was entangledin a slow, sleepy eddy under an alder, where it stayedits course, only revolving now and then when theminiature whirlpool caught it.But Harry saw nothing of this; he was striding onwith a good heart through Buckfastleigh and DeanPrior, where by this time there was never a soul stirringsave the doctor, who was trotting home from a sickpatient at Brent Harburton Ferry. By the time hereached South Brent all nature seemed taking its rest,so very still was the night. The only sounds were theoccasional stamp of a stabled horse, the bark of a distant

i EINBOW'S REST.yard-dog, and the cry of the night-jar, or some suchnocturnal wanderer among the trees.By this time Harry had walked rather more thanseven miles, so he was not sorry to sit down for a minuteor two on the bridge over the Avon. He ate some of thebiscuits he had bought at the " George" at Ashburton,and took a pull at his flask of sherry and water. TheAvon babbled and prattled as it washed the piers of theold bridge, and the little woodland brooks that fed ittinkled at their tiny falls very musically. The nightwas still very dark, for the moon had set early in theevening, and the morning was not breaking yet.Up again ere long, and on to Cherston and BidefordBridge, where the cocks are just beginning to crow, chal-lenging one another from farm to farm, shrilly in thequiet cool air. Two miles more, and as he passes thecottages, he sees a dim candle flickering here and there,to tell that man is arising to his work and to his labour;and now he has reached beautiful Ivybridge, nestlingbetween the two Beacons, bathing its feet in the dancingErme, the voice of whose merry cascades has beenaudible a long distance in the stillness of the morning.For it is morning now-a quiver in the deep blue sky,and a paling of the stars one by one. Little chirps andtwitters from tiny birds waking up at the first stir oflight in the air. Some of the highest clouds, a littlewhile since fleeces of purple, are turning grey-white--touched here and there with faint gold. The tremblein the air increases, and there is a visible spread oflight behind the bank of clouds to the eastward; thestars are all gone, and the tops of the hills are justtouched with the silver of dawn; and as the skiesbrighten the brooks brighten, and reflect the gradual

RAINBOW'S 'REST.growth of the faint rose of daybreak. Shafts of goldsun rays shoot upward, widening over the blue heaven.The bank of cloud is becoming molten; it puts on tihesemblance of a glowing furnace, with the dazzling gloryof the sun streaming through its rents and fissures.The birds have commenced matins; a flickeringspark- overhead is the jubilant lark, who takes the leadin the harmony.The sun is above the horizon, now throwing quaintlong shadows before him. The sheep are nibbling thetender herbage refreshed by the night dews. The cows,with outstretched necks, blink at the day-god in thebalmy meadows, where the flowers are shedding per*fumes before him.Yes. Day at lastSo thought Harry, as he threw himself on the greenbank of the Erme, and looked up into the brightening sky.He could not prevail upon himself to keep on the marchuntil all the phenomena of dawn had taken place. Itwas a pleasant spot for a traveller's half-way halt. Theold grey bridge, all but hidden by its mantle of shininggreen ivy, was mirrored in the glassy Erme; which re-flected too the intense <blue of the early morning skly,and the snowy fleeces that sailed through its infinitedepths.By and by, passengers passing over the stream, andlabourers going a-field, reminded Harry that his taskwas to do, and his journey but half over. On he trudgedwith a stouter heart and firmer tread, thanks to hishour's repose in the green valley of Ivybridge.Woodland, Cadleigh, and Lee Mill were reached andpassed. He crossed the Yealme at the last-namedplace, and then came a long spell of dreary tramping,

RAINBOWS REST.untiil he came to Ridgway, and passing through thatreached Plym Bridge. Everybody was astir now.Carts and gigs were spinning along the road, and foot-travellers were up betimes, making the most they couldof the coolness of morning. They eyed Harry, who wastravel-stained, and weary, and hungry-looking, as ifthey thought him a run-away 'prentice. Harry saw this,and turning into a field where there was a clear springof water, he opened his bundle, and proceeded to per-form an open-air toilet. When he had finished thissacrifice to the graces, he became aware that he wasnot alone in the field, which was no more or less thansome common-land. At the lower end of the openspace, in a sort of natural hollow, there was a mostpicturesque gipsy encampment.Two bright yellow vans formed the background, infront of which and sheltered by a hawthorn bush was alarge tent, in the form of a cart-tilt, with a fire cracklingbefore its mouth. A gipsy woman, in a bright-colouredprint dress, scanty bat clean, with a red cotton kerchiefround her shoulders and a bright yellow one tied acrossher lustrous long black hair, was washing some oddsand ends of gaudy finery in a small square tub. Herhusband sat at the tent-mouth, on a barrel, fashioning*clothes-pegs, with a small heap of white deal shavings athis feet. Two old crones, very brown and wrinkled in.deed, were tending the pot which hung by a bit of stringfrom the tripod of long sticks over the fire. A couple ofragged children, who but for the dirt were fairer incomplexion than their parents, were playing close by,and soon caught sight of and laid siege to the stranger.The woman at the tub dried her hands, rapidlytaking a steady survey of Harry all the time. It was

RAINBOW'S REST.not difficult to guess what he was. Near all the seaportsat the time of the gold fever you met young fellows withlittle bundles slung on sticks over their shoulders. Shecame to him talking volubly all the while, a mingledstream of entreaty, prophecy, and promise flowing in-cessantly, while she tried to make a capture of hispalm.There are few people who can escape the persuasivetongue of a real gipsy, and this one, by an adroit allu-sion to Harry's destination, had interested if not awedhim. The result was that he crossed her palm with abit of silver, and, listening, strove to disentangle a mean-ing from her incoherent and inconsequent ravings.An April shower had begun to fall when Harry com-menced his toilet. It had passed now, and its dunclouds were floating off westward, bearing in their bosoma brilliant bow of promise painted by the bright pencil-rays of the morning sun. As she rambled from onetheme to another, and mingled old saws and scraps ofgipsy-language, the woman chanced to look up and seethis short-lived halo. Pointing to it suddenly, she ex-claimed, " Where the rainbow rests lies a crock of gold.Seek, and you are sure to find," and with that sheturned away, and disappeared into the tent.The woman's words seemed to Harry to be inspiredby supernatural knowledge. He could not see that itwas easy for her to conjecture the errand which broughthim, bundle on shoulder, to the seaport. And then therainbow was a large one, the sun being low, and oneend might well have seemed to stretch far away west-ward to the land of his hopes and aspirations. The oldproverb, under such circumstances, became investedwith the solemn interest of a prophecy.

RAINBOW'S REST.The words haunted him all the rest of his journey.They set themselves to a kind of tune which kept timeto his steps, and he found himself repeating them halfaloud, as one catches oneself humming a tune sometimeswhile walking.Presently he came in sight of Plymouth, lookingdown upon it from the brow of a hill, as it lay in thefirst brightness of the morning, with its housetops glit-tering from the recent shower, and its spires gleamingin the sun. Beyond the houses lay the harbour, withits crowd of masts, and beyond that spread the wideestuary, with the busy craft flashing their white andtawny canvas as they tacked and darted in and out on thebroad bright surface of the waters, rippling with the goldof morning. The breeze came, pleasantly cool and fresh,and blew on Harry's weary brow, and gave him newvigour to finish his journey. So he passed on betweenthe fields of springing wheat, whence the larks wererising on every side, fluttering up into the sunlight andscattering their sweet notes on the air.Plymouth was all alive and bustling when he reachedit, for it was now seven o'clock and past, and along thequays where his road lay that was full working-time;and blocks were shrieking, and cordage rattling, andgreat bales and barrels swinging from the busy cranes.Sailors were shouting, and boats pulling about withmuch noise of hurrying oars in the rowlocks. It was alively scene, and Harry sat and watched it for awhile.

AINBOW'S BEST.IV.THE "GOLDEN FLEECE."A s.x and twenty miles' walk, aid the morning air freshwith brine, are two things which give one a good appe-tite, and Harry soon found that he wanted his breakfast.Shouldering his bundle again, he picked his way amongthe crowded goods on the quay to a small unpretendinginn, " The Ship Aground," where he ordered his meal,and flung himself down on a settle while it was beingprepared.The inn was clearly a house of call for sailors. Allthe bills which fluttered on the walls of the dingy littleparlour referred to ships, with one exception; scarcelyan exception either, for it was a notice inviting " fineyoung men" to take. service in the Royal Marines.Exactly opposite where Harry sat, one bill, largerthan the rest,' announced that that fast and otherwiseexcellent vessel, the " Golden Fleece," would sail forCalifornia on the 24th of April. He was imbued withjust enough of the superstition of the west country toaccept this accidental ranging of the bill as a sort ofomen, and inwardly determined to take passage by thatparticular ship. The next day was the 24th, so he hadsmple time to make his few arrangements.Breakfast came, and received more than justice, andthen a nap followed, after which Harry awoke refreshed,and went to secure his passage on board the " Golden"Fleece." His stock of money was slender, so he deter-mined to enter as a forecastle passenger, by whichmeans he would save enough to purchase a few neces-

RAINBO V'S REST.series with. He was not very certain what he wanted,but he intended to ask the captain of the vessel to givehim a few hints as to right things to get.He found the " Golden Fleece" without much diffi-culty. But he was woefully disappointed in her appear-ance. He had expected to see a trim clipper-lookingcraft, with all the qualities of speed and strength. Hefound her an unwieldy old tub, her deck littered withluggage, and a general slovenliness pervading her.However, he felt so nearly a beggar that he had not thoheart to be a chooser; and besides, dirty and clumsy asshe looked, the " Golden Fleece" was the ladder bywhich he was to reach riches. He could overlook thepresent inconvenience, and see the bright prospect inthe distance. He paid his money cheerfully, and hadhis hammock allotted him, in the dark, close, low fore-castle cabin.Then he went on deck to look at his fellow-passen-gers. He was not more delighted with them than withthe vessel. A more untidy, dirty, ruffianly party it washard to imagine. Many were hopeless, thriftless vaga-bonds, going to the gold-fields for no other reason thanthat it was some other place and not England, wherethey found decent people turned their backs on them.Some few looked like broken-down gentlemen, one ortwo like clerks who had rebelled against the high stooland quill-driving. These were not likely men to get onat the diggings. There was also a fair sprinkling of oldhands; men who had been to California, made moneyfor the first time in their lives, returned to Englandwith what they thought inexhaustible wealth, and spentit in six months. They were going back to pick andcradle again, to work all their weary work over again.

RAINBOW'S REST.But they went with stout hearts and an almost recklessdefiance of fortune.Harry sat himself down on a coil of rope, and fell tomusing. The great step was taken now. He had sethis foot on the first round of the ladder for good or ill.Until now the hurry of departure, the physical exertionof his walk, the excitement of seeking a ship and takinghis passage, had kept him from thinking. Now, whenthe bustle was over, and he could rest awhile, the busythoughts came thronging round, and would not be de-nied. He pictured to himself the grey-haired old mancalling for the disobedient son who had deserted him inhis old age. The dear recollections of home crowdedfast upon his memory; the little room where from hisbed he had watched the morning sun creeping along thowall; the arbour at the end of the laurel-walk, wherehe had read " Robinson Crusoe" so earnestly; the oldelm where he had hung his swing; the tiny brook atthe end of the garden, where he had sailed his mimicfleets. One after another these familiar places passedbefore his eyes, melancholy as a procession of ghosts,until at length a rising mist of tears blotted them out.He sat with his head drooping on his hand, his stickand bundle slipped unnoticed from his grasp, and heforgot where he was, and how many eyes might observe.It was a very bitter pang indeed, but then it was-andso he felt-well deserved.He was roused by a rough but not unkindly touchon the shoulder. He looked up. A stout-built, bronzedfellow-passenger-one of the returning diggers-wasstanding by him. Harry was at first inclined to beangry, but there was such an honest smile and such afriendly look on the red-bearded, sun-burnt face, that the

RAINBOW'S REST.impulse died out. The man seated himself besideHarry, and spoke to him in what he meant for a lowwhisper, but it was really a gruff rumble."Look here, youngster. I mean well, you know,and these chaps is a rough lot; you must keep up abold face, or you'll be sore bullied, lad. I mind whenI was like you, starting without a friend, and "-here heglanced at Harry's slender bundle-" without baggageor money. Bound for the diggings, eh?" He changedthe subject with rough tact, seeing Harry wince at theallusion.Harry told him he was going to try his fortunethere. There was a something very encouraging in theman's bluntness and honest out-spoken manner, andHarry, who had been feeling as lonely as such remem-brances I have described were likely to make him, wasvery glad of a little sympathy. He told his new friendthat he was bound for the diggings, and then remem-bering that he had need of some sort of outfit, he madebold to ask his advice as to the right things to buy." That depends a deal on how much you've to buywith, man! But if I was you, I'd spend all I had,down to a few shillings, to buy what I wanted this sidesea, for ten-penny nails is five pound apiece t'otherside," and he laughed at his own notion of the highprices at the diggings.The upshot of this was, that Harry told the digger-who informed the lad that he was called " Red George,over yonder "-what amount of money he really had,and asked him to counsel him how to spend it. RedGeorge said he thought the sum a handsome one con.sidering, and one that ought to set him up with a goodstock in trade. He had had barely a quarter of that

RAINBOW'S RESTsum when he set out first to the diggings, and he hadn'ta chap to advise him what to take. Harry and he soonbecame sworn friends; and the digger promised his aidto get the best things for the price. The pair accordinglyset out on their shopping, and Harry, thanks to theexperience of Red George, got exactly what he wanted,"at a good deal less than he was asked at first. Theshopkeepers saw it was no use to try and deceive theold hand. He knew what were useful tools, and whatwere " Brummagem notions," as he called them, madeonly to sell; and he also knew to a penny what thethings were worth, and steadily refused to give morefor them.When the shopping was over, it was getting late inthe day, and the weather was warm, and Plymouth is adreadfully hot place, and very tiring to walk about in.So Harry proposed to George that they should go intoan inn which they were passing and have something.George stopped short, turned round to him, and layinga hand on his shoulder, said hastily,-"Look'ee here, lad. I've done what I might forthee, and always will, and what I ask in return is,don't'ee never ask me to drink. I do drink, and shalldrink, and you'll oft see me drunken, may be; but ifthee wants to be true friend and honest mate, never youask me to drink, for I'm but too ready to do it. I'vehad a main hard battle this last month to stop myselffrom the drink;-help me keep from it, there's a man."Harry told him he meant that they should go in andhave some dinner, not merely to drink, and explainedthat he tippler himself, though he liked a glassof cyder well enough." Right, lad, right," said Red George. "Them as

RAINBOWS BEST.can guide themselves and stop when they have enough,have just a right to the good things of this world, butpoor sillified chaps like me, that can't put down cup till'tis empt, is best wi'out--best wi'out !" and shaking hishead sadly, the rough, honest fellow followed Harryinto the inn.They had a good substantial meal, and then towardssunset made their way to the ship, and went on board.Harry was fairly tired out by this time, and heartilyglad to turn into his hammock, where he was soon fastasleep, in spite of the discomfort of sleeping in a leatherbelt, which was one of the first purchases George hadmade for him, and in which he had made him sew upthe little that was left of his scanty store of money.Harry slept late the next morning, in spite of thenoise and trampling overhead, and the weighing of theanchor, and all the preparations for departure. The"' Golden Fleece " was off at last, the latest comer fairlysettled down in his berth, and the latest luggage stowedaway in the hold. A fussy little tug, which was calledthe " Tiger," puffed and snorted, and poured out cloudsof black smoke, as she towed the outward-bound vesseldown the Hamoaze, and round Rame Head. Thenthey cast loose the hawser, and gave three cheers, andthe " Tiger " turned round and went snorting back toPlymouth, and the " Golden Fleece " let fall her sails,and hoisted her jib, and began to make slow way downthe Channel. It was a lovely April day, with a brighteky filled with large snowy fleeces of cloud, which everynow and then melted into passing showers, that hissedand pattered on the scooping hollows of wave, andwetted the white sails of the ship, and went away beforethe wind, darkening the sea in patches, that made the

RAINBOW' REST.sunlit shore beyond stand out more vividly than ever.especially when some dun cloud, larger than ordinaryrose behind it, piled up with fantastic towers and battle-ments into the blue heavens.Red George even was touched by the beauty of thescene, so he went down and waked Harry, and madehim dress and come on deck. The ship was bowlingalong at a rapid rate for so clumsy a sailer, the breezefreshening every minute. She was off Cawsand Baynow, and the Eddystone was fast rising into sight.As Harry stood in the bows looking over the sea,his attention was attracted by a strange spot of colouron its surface. Before he had time to form a thoughof what it could be, from the spot of colour grew up onehalf of a rainbow, wavering up until it met the cloudfrom which that passing shower was shed, that mirroredback the sun-rays in such brilliant prismatic tints.Then it began to fade from the base upward, growingfainter and fainter, as if it had mingled with the cloudand was absorbed in the heavens. It was a very curioussight, the arc seemed to climb from the sea to the sky,an emblem of Hope and Faith, leaving the tossingtroubled world for everlasting peace and repose. Thecloud sailed steadily on across the ship's course, stillpouring forth its store of rain, and presently over-shadowed the land. You could see the sand darken asthe shower fell, and then the rocky shore glistened.Then all of a sudden an intervening cloudlet passedfrom before the sun, and behold the other half of thebow reaching from heaven to earth. For a few minutesit stood clear, bright, and vivid, and then began to meltaway. It rested apparently on a little white cottage,nestling on the side of the slope that trended down to

RAINBOW'S REST.the beach. As the bow faded, the last bright hueslingered awhile, as if lovingly, about the gleaming walls,and then faded for ever.As he looked at the bow, and watched its finalfading, Harry suddenly remembered the gipsy's words.But the influences which had made him think solemnlyof them when he first heard them, had passed awaynow, and he only smiled to himself. "Where the rain-bow rests lies a crock of gold, indeed! Then the ownerof that cottage must be possessed of a treasure," hemurmured to himself.And the " Golden Fleece" sailed on, and the daywent by, and night fell. And many a day and many anight saw the " Golden Fleece" still sailing on in sun-shine and gloom, in fair and storm, over weary wearyleagues of sea to the gold-fields far away, where the sun-sets blazed so brilliantly, as if they borrowed tht'wealth of gold from those-regions of fabulous riches.V.THE GOLD-SEEKERS.WHEN Harry and Red George arrived at the end ofTheir long voyage, they were sworn friends, and haddetermined to work together in the gold-fields. Thearrangement was greatly in Harry's favour, for he hadonly his handful of capital to balance against hispartner's long years of experience, and great enduranceand skill. But he had done the poor fellow muchkindness on the voyage, had used his influence torestrain him from joining in the riot and disorder of the

.RAINBOW'S REST.other passengers, who enlivened the tediousness df thosea-passage with gambling and drinking. On the otherhand, George had saved Harry from many an unpleasantencounter with some of the more lawless of his unwel-come travelling companions. There was a sort of free-masonry among the diggers, by which they soon learnedthat Red George had taken the youngster under hiswing, and they had better not molest him. As for therough lot of vagabonds, who were not initiated into themystical fellowship of cradle and pick, they soon learnedto respect George, and leave Harry alone, though theysneered at him on the sly. A few days after the " GoldenFleece " sailed, one of the ruffians, who was conspicuousfor the brutality and coarseness of his conduct andlanguage, even among such specimens as surroundedhim, was about to play some rough practical joke off onHarry, who was sitting on a hen-coop reading, andquite unconscious of the meditated mischief. RedGeorge divined his intention at a glance, and with onestraight sharp hit-out from the shoulder, sent the fellowsprawling among the lumber on the not over-tidy deck.Before the fallen man had time to recover himself, theother strode up to him, and planting his foot on hisbreast, pinned him helpless to the deck."Now, mate, you look here! If you're for fighting ,I'm your man, with fists, if you like, or with bowie andsix-shooter. I'm not pertickler, I'm not! But justdon't you be skylarking with that youngster, that's all;because, if you do, I'll just put a bullet through you,without stopping to ax questions. So now you know!"The fellow was a bully, and he had felt the weightof George's fist, and didn't care to prolong the quarrel.So he rose, grumbling about " a harmless joke," and

RAINBOW'S REST."no harm" meant, and skulked away forward. Therewere quite enough people looking on to set the storygoing, and it became a recognized fact that " RedGeorge's chum " was to be left alone. And he was.The longest and weariest voyage must end at lash,even the route to California round Cape Horn, so thetime came when the " Golden Fleece " let go her anchorin Port San Francisco, and her passengers wentashore.Harry's first impression of the gold-fields was any-thing but a pleasant one. The first people he encoun-tered were in rags. The unsuccessful or thriftlessamong the gold-seekers had gradually drifted down tothe sea-shore, looking out for any chance labour of alight description which they could perform for new-comers, or perhaps speculating on the probabilities ofcheating some of the raw hands on their arrival. Somewere lying by the road-side, dreaming off the effects ofthe intoxication with which they had striven to drownremorse and hunger. Red George was used to thesight, but it struck a chill to Harry's heart. What ifhe should come to be a thing like that miserable crea-ture, with mere skin and bone peeping through therents and loopholes of a rusty old black suit, andshaking with the palsy of the drunkard! It might havebeen, but for the good luck of his meeting with George,that you may be sure, for Harry was utterly unsuitedfor the diggings. He felt that now, as he looked at thestalwart limbs and gigantic frames of the prosperousdiggers whom he met-men who had come into thetown to make purchases, or to sped in jollity a little ofthe riches which oppressed them. Among these fellowsRed George met with several old friends, and learnt

RAINBOW'S REST.from them the latest news of the diggings. Theypressed him to come and drink with them, but Harrypressed his arm, and pulled him on, so the carouse waspostponed till " when we meet again."Poor George was conscious-no one more so-thatthe sooner he was off at the diggings the better. Accord-ingly, the next morning they settled on a claim, andbegan to make arrangements for working it. Georgerigged up a tent in an incredibly short space of time,and by the evening they were comfortably settled in it.They retired to rest early, for they were to be up andbreak ground with the first streak of dawn. The lastthing George did before settling for the night, was todraw the charges of his revolver and load it afresh, andhe bade Harry do the same."Look'ee now, Hal," said he, " if so be as you hearaught stir, sing out 'Who's that ?' and if the answer ain'tsatisfactory, blaze away in the direction of the row.If you shoot the wrong chap by accident, that's his look-out, for down here away when it comes to that sort ofthing, you must shot the wrong chap even, or you'relike to be shot yourself. But don't fire away more northree charges at a time, before you reload, if you canhelp it, because it's awkward to be left with emptybarrels, like Handsome Jack was.""How was that, George ?" asked Harry." Wal, you see, Handsome Jack was a nigh neigh-bour of mine when fust I came out, and he was a mainlucky chap too, he was. We all knew as he'd a heapof dust and nuggets-and he knew that we knew. Soevery night afore he turned in-he was all alone in hisclaim, and wouldn't take a chum-he used to fire hissix barrels right away, and load up again. There was

RAINBOW' S :EST.a Yankee chap closa by, very down on his luck, andnot over particular most times, and he and one or twoother loose fish they laid their plans, and crept up toHandsome Jack's tent one night, just after sundown,and laid close till he began firing. They counted himout-one, two, three, four, five, six!--and then ranin and knocked him over, and just lifted his lot of stuffand bolted."Harry laughed, and promised to take the lessonduly to heart." Don't use yer knife," said George, returning tohis directions in the art of self-defence, "if you canhelp it; because I guess you're a bad hand at that, andthey'd chop you into mince afore you knew where youwas. I can fight with a Bowie a bit-but I don't likeit, Hal-fists, or pistols is what I prefer. Good night,and keep one eye and one ear open."The next day they were up betimes, and commencedwork. George had taken on himself to arrange thedivision of labour, and he contrived to give Harry thelightest share. Their claim was at some distance fromthe more-crowded part of the gold-fields, situated up acreek, through which flowed a clear cool spring of water,which was an advantage in many respects, besides beinga great convenience for the washing of the gold, when-ever they might light upon it. The spot had beenchosen by George, whose experienced eye pitched uponit, as soon as he saw it as the best lodgement for ayoung beginner, as well as a most promising place fora yield.So day after day they toiled away, digging, andboring, and blasting, until at last they had sunk theirhole to a considerable depth. One night whea Georgo

RAINBOW'S REST.struck work at sundown, he came in looking very merry,and sat himself beside the fire where Harry was brewingthe tea." I say, lad, we'll have to fit up the cradle-thelittle stranger's coming now Look'ee here !" and heheld out his hand with a tiny heap of black earth in thecentre. Harry looked at it closely, and could see hereand there the little sparkling bits of ore."Is that gold?" he asked."Aye, lad, virgin gold, as has never seen the mintor the furnace even. I'd swear to the right stuff any-where."" Is there much of it ?"" This is all I've met with yet, Hal, but 'twas with thelast two drives of the pick, before 'twas too dark that Ifetched it out. We'll be able to tell better to-morrow.But gold or not, lad; you'll mind never to let any ofthey chaps that comes loitering here from th' otherclaims know a breath of it. We should have 'em hereby the score, if they only thought we'd hit on the ore."Tie first streak of dawn had hardly spread, beforeHarry was up, and in the hole, to see what promise therewas. But to his inexperienced eyes, the hole was aablank of meaning as 'it was on the first day. WhenGeorge came, he pointed out to the lad where the metalwas, and what the indications were which told of thepresence of the precious ore in tolerable abundance.They set to work with redoubled vigour, and beforelong came in a rich find. But, alas it was not a con-tinuous bit of good fortune. In a few days they hadworked it out, and were once more in the hard unpro-mising country. Then they toiled on steadily again untilthey reached another pocket of gold, and so on with


RAINBOW'S REST.alternate failure and success. In the meantime, theyhad to live, and renew the worn-out tools, and buyclothes, and the prices of the merest necessaries werefrightfully exorbitant. And so three years passed, andthey had tried the creek all over with varying success.And at the close of that time when they began tobalance accounts, they found they had spent nearly asmuch as they had earned, although they had livedsparingly, and wasted nothing on luxuries. Harrybegan to be very tired of this life, though he had oncefound the greatest pleasure in merely handling the pre-cious dust, and letting it sift through his fingers. Butit sifted through his fingers a little too fast, in exchangefor spades, and flannel shirts, and bread and meab. Andthe creek was " played out," as Red George described,and so there was nothing for it but to strike their tent,and wander away somewhere else.Harry was very loath to leave the picturesque, com-fortable little valley for the arid plains towards whichthey now bent their steps, but Red George had reasonto suppose the find was better there, though the workwas infinitely harder. But hard work was of littleconsequence to Harry now, for he had settled down intoa regular hard-handed, brawny digger. If you had seenhim now, pick in hand, toiling at the rocky sides of thehole, you would hardly have believed him the samebeing as the lad who stood a few years back on the Ivy-bridge over the Erme.

RAIXBOW58 METSTVI,TIE NUGGETS OF GOLD.,HARRY and his partner for a year and a half had nobetter success on the plains than they had previouslyhad on the creek. What they made barely sufficed tokeep them in food, clothes, and tools. But this was notto go on for ever. It was Harry's first turn at workone morning, and he was up with the sun, shoulderedhis pick, and went into the hole. The first stroke hostruck revealed a bright streak of gold! He dropped thetool in his eagerness, and began to tear away at the placewith his fingers until they bled. It was a large nuggetof the pure metal!He screamed frantically for George, who came out,revolver in hand, thinking the Indians were on them.When he found the real state of the case, he was hardlyloss delighted than Harry. Harry, to tell the truth, wasnot quite pleased with himself for calling out so soon.If you can believe it possible, he was actually for amoment thinking of hiding the nugget from his com-panion, and saying nothing about it!" Wel], but, papa," says Charlie, interrupting thostory at this point, "he found it, you know, and wasn'tit all his own ?"" My boy," says the old gentleman, " we should neverbe too ready to say a thing is all our own doing. IfRed George had never taught Harry how to work at thediggings, he might not only never have found thenugget, but even have been starved. Nothing that we

RAINBOW'S is due only to ourselves. That rich Mr. Statton wholet his mother die in the workhouse a little while ago,because he said he had had to earn his own living andwork for his money, must have quite forgotten howmuch he owed to the early love and tenderness of hisparents. If ever you are prosperous people, my littlefolk, I hope the first thing you will do will be to lookround and see to whom you are indebted for your goodfortune, and in making them happy, find happiness foryourselves."With George's help the nugget was soon removedfrom the soil where it was imbedded, and proved to bevery large and heavy. Both men, as soon as they hadcarried it into the tent, and buried it, for fear of pryingeyes, returned to the hole, and set to work with a willto see if there were any more prizes within reach. Theywere disappointed in their search, discovering only a fewscattered grains. So they agreed to strike work for theday in honour of the find. A strong brew of tea wasmade, and they lay down on the grass, and smoked andtalked over their success. A troup of diggers weregoing to start overland, across the Rocky Mountains,and down the Red River, for New Orleans in a week'stime, and it was agreed that they should work doubletides in the meantime, scrape together as much gold asthey could, and then George should accompany thecaravan and sell it as he best could, and put the moneyinto a bank against their return. For they wanted togo home again now: the longing for Old England hadbeen growing on them for the last two years, and inHarry's breast occupied almost as large a space as thedesire for gold.

RAINBOW'S REST.During their week of double-work they were veryfortunate, and found a pretty heavy quantity of gold,with which in due time George set out on his longjourney.Harry was left to work out the hole, and though hefelt somewhat lonely at first, found a comfort in thenotion that, if he found a good pocket of gold now,he need not say anything about it; so he toiled awaywith a will for about three weeks, and had come upor.some small quantities of ore, but nothing very con-siderable.One night, as he was brewing his pannikin of tea,he heard a footstep in the darkness among the brake.He listened, drawing his revolver from his belt, andtrying in vain to pierce the gloom."T Who's there ?" he cried at last, when a dry boughsnapping loudly, told plainly of the approach of some-thing living. "Who's there ? or I'll fire !""Don't shoot, Hal, it's me!" was the faint answer,and in another minute Red George came crawling upwithin the circle of light flung around by the blazingcamp-fire." Good Heavens! George, what's the matter? Thegold "" Gone! lost! Hal. But, for mercy's sake, give mea bit to eat, for I've tasted nought for four days but afew roots."" But the gold, George where's the gold? Howdid you come to lose it ? Speak, man !""I can't, Hal. Give me something to eat-I'mstarving, I tell you !"Harry flung him the bread intended for his own tea.George caught it, and devoured it ravenously; and the

RAINBOW'S REST.tea being by this time made, he helped himself to apannikin, which, scalding as it was, he drank off eagerly.Then he flung himself down on the turf by the fire, andsobbed like a child.Harry, still thinking of little but the gold, questionedhim closely, almost angrily, about the loss of it." Oh, the drink! the drink! Harry. There was arough lot amongst them as was bound on the tramp,and they found I had a power of metal, and they madetheir minds up to have it. The cap'n was a splendidfellow. You know in these tramps, Hal, they 'lectsome fellow head to keep all in order, and preventmishaps. Well, our cap'n was a main fine chap, and hemade a set of rules, and he says, says he, 'Any chapas breaks these, or e'er a one of 'em, I'll shoot himright off, for,' says he, and he was right and true asdeath, Hal, the life of the whole lot depends on themlaws; so look out, boys.' Well, one of the laws wasthere was to be no gambling or drinking on march.We was to march five days and rest one, and on thatone we might do as we liked; but them as wasn'tready to start on the next morning must bide behind.As the cap'n said, the life of the lot depended on pushingon according to the plan, and those as risked the lifeof the lot lost their own instead, perhaps as was onlyfair. Well, at our second day's camp some of the chapstook to gamble and some to drink, and, as ill luck wouldhave it, I felt bad and weak, and took a drop to set meto rights; and from one drop to another, until the chapspersuaded me to gamble, and I lost my half of our lot,and they wanted me to stake yours; but I wouldn't,Hal, and then they got wild, I guess, and they musthave put something in the drink-I noticed a lot of the

RAINBOW S REST.berries growing about the place as the Indians poisontheir arrows with-for, when I came to my senses again,I was all alone under some scrub, where they'd hauledme out of sight, and my belt and the bags of gold gone!and I'd to drag every bit back on our tracks with myhead of a swim so as I could scarce pick the trail, andI've had nothing to eat but roots, and was nigh dead ofthirst, for the plains are dry about now. And oh, Hal,I'm terribly ashamed to have lost all our earnings; butyou'll forgive me, and I'll work hard to make it up !"But Harry, although not cruel by nature, was veryhard when his love of gold was touched, and as hepictured the long years of toil he had spent, it seemedvery, very hopeless work to have to begin all overagain. He could not forgive George's folly, and hespoke to him in terms which cut the poor fellow to thequick, enfeebled as he was by long privation and weari-ness."I'll work double times, Hal, lad! I will indeed,and you shall have my share all to yourself, till the lossis made up to you. I'll slave like a nigger, Hal! onlyshake me by the hand, and say you forgive me, for I'vebeen wearying for a kindly word for these ten days, whileI've been staggering back here sick, and ill, and hun-gered. I don't think I'd have kept up but for the hopeof that !"But Harry was not to be pacified; he retired to thetent in dudgeon, flung himself into his hammock, andgrumbled himself to sleep.Poor George-he could hardly be called Red Georgenow, he was so pale, and wan, and thin, the mereshadow of his former self-poor George filled his pipewith tobacco, and had a smoke, a luxury he had not

RAINBOW'S IEST.)een able to indulge in for ten days, his box havingbeen purloined among other things. By and by hiseyelids closed, and he dropped on the grass by the sideof the fire, worn out with suffering, and slept soundlyuntil early dawn. With the first rays of light he wokeinstinctively; he was bitterly cold, for the heavy dewshad wetted him to the skin. He crawled to the tent,and peeped in; there lay Harry, rolled in his hammock,fast asleep.Now there was in George's humble nature much ofthe unswerving fidelity of the dog. Harry had beenbrutal to him in the weak state he was in on the pre.vious night, but Harry was his idolized master, andmight kick or caress, it was all the same to his simpleaffection; so with tottering knees the poor fellow tookup the tools, and staggered painfully down to the hole,entered it, and began to work. He was far too weak toply the pick effectually; the wavering strokes fell idlyhere and there at random, scarcely scratching the hardground. He saw and felt that his toil was fruitless,and he grew angry with himself at the thought of hisweakness, and redoubled the useless fury of his blows.It was of no avail!There happened on one side of the hole to be anexcavation which he and Harry had made under theside of the ground, in following out what had seemedpromising indications. After they had driven this levela little way these indications had vanished, and as theground was dangerous, and the roof showed signs offalling in, they had determined to abandon it. Now itoccurred to George that he could work away there tosome purpose, for the strata were loose and slid easily;and in his feeble state his mind was prone to give way

RAINBOW'S dreamy fancies, and he began to exaggerate all theindications which had induced them to drive in thatDirection. He felt sure that they ought not to haveabandoned the work, for there must be a rich pocket,if not a splendid vein, of metal there; so he snatchedup his pick, and rushing into the further end of- theexcavation, began to strike about wildly, tearing downatone after stone with frantic force.Harry by this time was awake and stirring; hevonrdered what had become of George. All of a suddente heard a hollow rumble. He had heard of earth-quakes in these parts from brother diggers, and thoughtthis might be one. Rushing to the door of the tent, hewas surprised to find that the hole had fallen in!Poor George! his misdirected energy had causedthe catastrophe, for fear of which the level had beenabandoned; the strata in the roof slid in, and buriedhim in their fall. The dip of these strata was awayfrom the back, where George was working, so that themain body of the groundslip fell into the hole, whichwas sunk several fathoms below this level; but the restfell into the level, and a huge rock crushed the poorfellow beneath it, killing him instantly. When Harrypreached the scene of the disaster, he saw before him aheap of mingled rock and earth filling the hole, beyondthat the level choked with the same wreck, and beyondall, against the back of the level thus laid bare, he sawone of poor George's hands thrust up through theruins, as if stretched out for help.But of what was the back of the level thus laid barecomposed.? What was that at which poor George'shand seemed clutching for support ? A vein of purevirgin gold Harry could scarce believe his eyes. Yes,

RAINBOW' REST.there it was, the dream of his life, the object of hisambition, the mainspring of all his labours.I fear he did not think much of the kind-hearted,rough, honest friend, whose life was the price at whichthe treasure was purchased. I will do him the justiceto say that he dug out the body carefully, buried it atthe foot of a mimosa, and carved the rude epitaph,"Here lies Red George, killed by a run of ground,"with the date, on the bark. But the sorrow he feltfor the loss of the poor old chum- was swallowed upby the rapture which seized him at the sight of thegold.Presently a dread that some other diggers mightcome and discover his luck, perhaps insist on sharingit, seized on him; so he made a sort of mortar withwater and clay, and smeared it over the glittering vein,and then set to work with all the strength and earnest-ness he possessed to work the find. It was rich beyondexpectation, and took him nearly a week to break awayand conceal; and in the mean time no one had visitedthe camp. At the end of that time, however, as howas clearing away the last foot or so that was un-covered, he heard the dry leaves brushed by a footstep.He looked round, and on the further side of the holesaw a man in digger costume standing, evidently sur-prised at what he beheld. Harry knew the man atonce; it was "Miississipi Dave," an American, whosecharacter for lawlessness and ferocity was not equalledin these diggings. The American did not say a word,but, after a brief survey, turned on his heel, and disap.peared into the bush.Harry's mind was made up in a moment. He hadbeen hesitating whether it would be best to prosecute

RAINBOW'S REST.the search further along the vein, single-handed, or becontent with the find which he had worked out to suchprofit in so short a time. The sight of Mississipi Davedetermined him to move off without delay. He hurriedover to a station not far off, and hired two horses forhim and his mate to go prospecting with-their presentclaim having proved unprofitable. The man who knewRed George very well, lent him the nags at once, andin three hours' time Harry had sewn up his nuggetsin canvas bags made out of the tent cloth, and was offto San Francisco.He was not off a moment too soon. MississipiDave and a choice selection of friends paid his tent avisit within an hour after his departure, and were in aterrible fury to find he had given them the slip. Someof the most active of them set off after him on foot,but Harry had pushed on his horses at full speed, andthe pursuers gave up the chase, finding from the tracksthat they were not gaining on him.By early morning he reached the' bay, just in timeto catch a ship bound for Guatemala. He took pas-sage on board, was safely landed at that port, made hisway across the Isthmus on mule-back, was conveyedby boat along the southern shores of Honduras Bayto Truxillo, where he shipped on board the " JamesBarker," of London, bound for Southampton with acargo of mahogany. Once on an English deck, he be-lieved himself safe. On board the Pacific coaster, incrossing the Isthmus, in the frail boat on the Musquitoshore, he had trembled again and again for his gold, andhad watched over it jealously-armed and determinedto sacrifice his life sooner than his money.JBat now on board the good ship " James Barker,"