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to lend him a riding-coat, or a pair of boots, or sometimes a horse of small value, and I always had the satisfaction to find that he never came back to return them. By this the house was cleared of such as we did not like; but never was the family of Wakefield known to turn the traveller or the poor dependent out of doors.

Thus we lived several years in a state of much happiness; not but that we sometimes had those little rubs which Providence sends to enhance the value of its favours. My orchard was often robbed by school-boys, and my wife's custards plundered by the cats or the children. The squire would sometimes fall asleep in the most pathetic parts of my sermon, or his lady return my wife's civilities at church with a mutilated courtesy. But we soon got over the uneasiness caused by such accidents, and usually in three or four days began to wonder how they vexed us.

My children, the offspring of temperance, as they were educated without softness, so they were at once wellformed and healthy; my sons hardy and active, my daughters beautiful and blooming. Our eldest son was named George, after his uncle, who left us ten thousand pounds. Our second child, a girl, I intended to call after her aunt Grissel; but my wife, who had lately been reading romances, insisted upon her being called Olivia. In less than another year, we had another daughter, and now I was determined that Grissel should be her name; but a rich relation taking a faney to stand godmother, the girl was by her directions called Sophia; so that we had two romantic names in the family; but I solemnly protest I had no hand in it. Moses was our next, and after an interval of twelve years, we had two sons more.

It would be fruitless to deny my exultation when I saw

my little ones about me; but the vanity and satisfaction of my wife were even greater than mine. When our visitors would say: 'Well, upon my word, Mrs Primrose, you have the finest children in the whole country.' 'Ay,' neighbour,' she would answer, 'they are as Heaven made them-handsome enough, if they be good enough; for handsome is that handsome does.' And then she would bid the girls hold up their heads, who, to conceal nothing, were certainly very handsome. Mere outside is so very trifling a circumstance with me, that I should scarce have remembered to mention it, had it not been a general topic of conversation in the country. Olivia, now about eighteen, had that luxuriancy of beauty, with which painters generally draw Hebe-open, sprightly, and commanding. Sophia's features were not so striking at first, but often did more certain execution; for they were soft, modest, and alluring. The one vanquished by a single blow, the other by efforts successively repeated.

My eldest son, George, was bred at Oxford, as I intended him for one of the learned professions. My second boy, Moses, whom I designed for business, received a sort of miscellaneous education at home. But it is needless to attempt describing the particular characters of young people that had seen but very little of the world. In short, a family-likeness prevailed through all; and, properly speaking, they had but one character-that of being all equally generous, credulous, simple, and inoffensive.

THE VOTER'S SONG.

1.

They knew that I was poor,
They thought that I was base,
And would readily endure

To be covered with disgrace.
They judged me of their tribe,
Who on dirty Mammon doat;
So they offered me a bribe
For my vote, boys, my vote.
It is my country's due,

And I'll give it, if I can,
To the honest and the true,
Like a man, boys, a man.

2.

No, no; I'll hold my vote

As a treasure and a trust;
My dishonour none shall quote,
When I'm mingled with the dust.
And my children, when I'm gone,
Shall be strengthened by the thought,
That their father was not one

To be bought, boys, bought.
It is my country's due,

And I'll give it, if I can,
To the honest and the true,
Like a man, boys, a man.

STORY OF A LIONESS.

In the year 1816, the horses which were dragging the Exeter mail-coach, were attacked in the most furious manner by a lioness, which had escaped from a travellingmenagerie.

At the moment when the coachman pulled up, to deliver his bags at one of the stages a few miles from the town of Salisbury, one of the horses was suddenly seized by a ferocious animal. This, of course, produced great confusion and alarm. Two passengers got out, and ran into the house. The horse kicked and plunged violently, and it was with difficulty the driver could prevent the vehicle from being overturned. The light of the lamps soon enabled the guard to discover that the animal which had seized the horse was a huge lioness. A large mastiff came up, and attacked her fiercely, on which she quitted the horse and turned upon him. The dog fled, but was pursued and killed by the lioness before it had run forty yards from the place. It appeared that the ferocious animal had escaped from a menagerie, on its way to Salisbury fair. The alarm being given, the keepers pursued and hunted the lioness, carrying the dog in her teeth, into a hovel under a granary, which served for keeping agricultural implements. They soon secured her effectually, by barricading the place so as to prevent her escape. The horse, when first attacked, fought with great spirit; and if he had been at liberty, would probably have beaten down his antagonist with his fore-feet; but, in plunging, he entangled himself in the harness. The lioness, it appears, attacked him in front, and springing at his throat, had fastened the talons of

her fore-feet in each side of his gullet, close to the head, while those of her hind-feet were forced into his chest. In this situation she hung, when the blood streamed from the wound as if a vein had been opened by a lancet. The horse was so dreadfully torn, that he was not at first expected to survive. The expressions of agony in his tears and groans were most piteous and affecting. For a considerable time after the lioness had entered the hovel, she continued roaring in a dreadful manner; so loud, indeed, that she was distinctly heard at the distance of half a mile. She was eventually secured, and led back in triumph to her cell.

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Yesterday morning, Captain George Downey, Lieutenant Pyefinch, poor Mr Munro, of the Honourable East Indian Company's service, and myself (Captain Consan), went on shore on Sangur Island, to shoot deer. We saw innumerable tracks of tigers and deer; but still we

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