that time more intent upon its history than its preservation, jerked the valuable love-gift into the water.

"What's to be done?" cried every uncle, every aunt, and every cousin, save aunt Priscilla, who was speechless, and cousin Jack, who whistled.

John-John Robinson-you-you can dive?" exclaimed Deborah, very significantly.

"Better drag for it," said Robinson, with, as all the aunts declared, "the most brutal unconcern."

'But you know, Mr. Robinson that you are a very expert swimmer. I'm sure you can get the box," cried aunt Bridget.

""T is n't worth a guinea," said Robinson.

"Don't talk to me of its worth, sir!" exclaimed aunt Priscilla, with considerable indignation; and then, throwing her arm around the neck of her friend, she sobbed-"I had rather lost half I'm possessed of."

Aunt Priscilla resolved to land, and to offer any reward for the recovery of her property. Peter Creeply, who was of the party, begged that his aunt would leave the business entirely with him-he would forfeit her love for ever, if he did not bring back the box. The lady, comforted by the confident manner of her nephew, blessed him, and bade him use his best discretion. The party landed, when Jack Robinson fell in with a couple of town friends, and the vivacity of his own party being extinguished, everybody looking sorrowful in compliment to the loss of Priscilla-he resolved to dine with his new companions. "I should only be in your way," said Jack, "for, upon my word, try as hard as I can, I can't weep for a snuff-box; and it's a pity to spoil company, when everybody else is of one mind. I say, Peter, do you hear nothing? Hark!” "Hark, Mr. Robinson ! To what?"

"There, again," said Jack Robinson; "the fishes! how they do sneeze, to be sure!" Thus spoke Jack, to the great disgust of many of his dearest relatives, and lounged off between his London comrades, to take, as had been stipulated, "a reasonable glass."

There are, doubtless, critical stages in the life of man and woman, when any undue agitation of the spirits may have the most fatal effects on the tenement of clay. We will not positively assert that it is so, but trust that the choleric will, for their own sake, if not out of regard to the quiet of others, believe it to be very possible. Now, whether the temporary loss of Miss Priscilla's box-for we may at once state that it was in a few hours restored to her-chained as that box was to the dearest fibres of her heart, and then by violent disruption, cast away-opened wounds, not well healed, and never again to close-or whether her time was nearly done, and the separation of the gold snuff-box had nothing whatever to do with the tragedy that followed-we leave to higher wits to decide. It is, however, a part of our task to inform the reader that aunt Priscilla sickened, and, in one month after her trip to Twickenham, died.

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You must get something, now, Jack; you were her favorite," said young Corkton, a bottle friend of Jack's.

"Poor old girl," said Jack. "I think she was the only one of them

who cared for me.

And I did n't use her well-I was n't as attentive as
Poor old Priscilla !"

I might have been.
"Death must come, Jack. He's an ugly fellow,' to be sure; but
when the skull and cross-bones are well gilt, they 're not so bad. I sup-
pose, now, you'll keep your hunters and pack? Egad! you're a lucky
fellow-there's such a bargain in the way of hounds."

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'We shall see, Tom," said Robinson; who in due time was summoned to the funeral; and the ceremony over, to the reading of aunt Priscilla's will. Jack Robinson found himself down for ten thousand pounds. "Excellent aunt!" ejaculated Robinson, about to weep at the benevolence of the deceased, when he was desired to attend to the reading of a codicil, that transferred the ten thousand pounds to John Robinson, to "my beloved nephew Creeply, together with my gold snuff-box, in token of his courageous recovery of the same."

"So, Peter," said Jack Robinson, meeting him a week afterwards, "so Peter, I wish you joy of your fortune-did n't know you could swim. 'T was all my own fault; you attended to the wishes of the old lady, and I-well. I deserve my loss. But I did n't know you could dive! "Dive, Jack! not I; dive! not a bit of it."

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Why, does n't the will say as much?

Courageous conduct '-how did you get the box? For my part, you know, I went away with Corkton and Springley, and we got so drunk! But how did it happen?" "I think-for she was n't quite herself, poor womann-that my dear aunt believed I had risked my life to fish up her box. Not I, Jack, depend on 't," and Peter, assured of the ten thousand pounds, could afford to be candid.. "The truth is, it struck me that it was possible, when the tide went down, that the box might be found in the mud. So keeping my thoughts to myself, and persuading my aunt to depend entirely upon me-ha! ha!-whilst you were with Corkton and Springley, I went at night and sat on the bank of the river."

"I see-and while, like a fool, I was laughing and swallowing wine "

"I was watching the going down of the tide," answered Peter, and he grinned at the recollection of his cunning.

Well, I was a fool," exclaimed Jack Robinson-"I was a fool! I could have dived and brought up the box; I was a fool!"

Pity it is that those fitted to seize a treasure from any depth should leave it unregarded, a prize for the patient lookers out who can do nothing more than watch the "going down of the tide."

CHAPTER IV.

Jack Robinson was now without a friend. It was not enough that he had forfeited the intended legacy of aunt Priscilla, but he lost with the ten thousand pounds the little credit he had with his relations; whilst Peter Creeply, from the moment the tenor of the maiden's will was known, rose in the estimation of all the world. There never was such a graceless

good-for-nothing as Jack Robinson! or a better man than Peter Creeply.

There could not be a finer gentleman

Poor Robinson, the victim of early impressions, capable of doing twenty things better than seven-tenths of his fellows, did nothing for that very reason. He sank in reputation, health, and spirits; and at forty, behold Jack Robinson in a garret, when, with the fair use of his talents and moderate fortune to back them, the same Jack Robinson might have been lord of a rich manor-the useful member for the borough.

"Mr. Robinson, Mr. Robinson," cried his landlady, stealing unheard by him into his wretched attic, where Jack sat, with his head in his hand, staring at an empty grate.

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'Oh! what's the matter, Mrs. Carey?" asked Robinson.

"Do you know the very thing has happened that will suit you. You said, last Friday, you should like to get a school. Now, this morning, the parish schoolmaster died. A comfortable place, sir, for them as likes the business house, coals, candles, and I do n't know what salary," said the landlady.

"I'll see about it immediately, Mrs. Carey," said Robinson, starting up and taking his hat.

Stay, Mr. Robinson; I'll tell you what has come into my head. There's Mr. Quick, the whip-maker, a kind soul-my boy will show you where he lives-go to him, he 's overseer, vestryman, and a great person in the parish. Get his interest, and I'm bound for it you have the place. Here Jemmy," and Mrs. Carey desired her boy to see Mr. Robinson to Mr. Quick's, the whip-maker.

In a few minutes the child pointed out the door of the vestryman, and returned home. Robinson paused a moment, and was about to go into the shop, when a gentleman passed him, and was about to enter; their eyes met, and for a moment they stared at each other.

"Surely," said the gentleman, "your name is-is Robinson?" "And surely," said Jack, "I see my old schoolfellow, Brown?" "How odd that we should meet after so many years!" said Brown. "But come in, I lodge with Mr. Quick."

That's strange! I had something to ask of him," said Robinson. "Out of town, and won't return until to-morrow. Come in; stay, Jack, we shall be more comfortable at a coffee-house-come along," and the schoolfellows took their way to a neighboring house, where Brown played the host. "And how have you been, Jack? Though not rich yourself, you had an army of rich friends; I hope they've not left you poor, eh?" and Brown unconsciously glanced at the whitened edges of Robinson's coat.

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'No-no-I ought to be rich-but I blame no one," said Robinson. 'However, to my business-you can serve me, Brown."

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"I shall be delighted to do it, Robinson," and Brown pledged his schoolfellow. Come, drink; you shall have as much wine as you can swim in. Ha! talking of swimming, have you ever met with Jones? Do you recollect the flogging our master-wonder if he's dead yet-gave us three? Poor Smith! he'd have made a bright man! Pretty boy he

was, you recollect-I see him now, just as he was picked out of the water -poor Smith! But you say I can serve you-speak, my boy."

Have you any interest with Mr. Quick?" asked Robinson.

Do anything in the world for me," answered Brown.

"I understand he has great influence in the vestry; the appointment of the new schoolmaster rests with that body. I-I"-Robinson felt his cheeks creep with blushes-"I think you can answer for my capability— will you ask Mr. Quick to stir himself in my behalf? It is of consequence to me, Brown," said Robinson, stammeringly.

Brown looked confused, thoughtful. He drew himself up to his schoolmate, and laid his hand on Robinson's knee. "My good fellow, for old times, I should be most happy to serve you-I should indeed, John, but the truth is, I never in all my life asked a. favor of Quick, and as I never did ask, I—you see—I "—and Brown, with dropped jaw, stared at Robinson.

'Say no more- -I beg your pardon," said Robinson, and he rose, and incapable of self-control, rushed into the street, leaving Brown, ("who could n't swim,") bewildered and ashamed.

The next day Robinson called at Quick's house, and learned that he had not yet arrived from the borough of where he had a vote, which he had journeyed to give to Squire Jones, of Homepickle Hall. The election, however, was over, and the next day Mr. Quick would be at home.

"Jones-Squire Jones-of Homepickle Hall," mused Robinson; and as the member was confined by a political fit of the gout to London, Robinson was resolved to wait upon him, for he recognized his old schoolfellow in the new-made senator. "It's hard indeed, if I do n't find him a little warmer than that nincompoop, Brown," thought Robinson, as he knocked at the door, and prayed an audience of the Squire.

We pass the meeting of the schoolfellows the protestations of service on the part of Jones. He would immediately see his friendly constituent, Quick, and secure the office of pedagogue for Jack Robinson; Jack might rely upon it.

Before the election came on, Robinson waited upon Mr. Quick, and communicated to him his hopes and pretensions. "Mr. Jones, the member for -, you know Mr. Jones?" asked Robinson.

"O, yes," replied Mr. Quick, "very intimately!

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He promised to see you on the business-he has doubtless".

"Not at all-never see him-never heard from him-very sorry, indeed," interrupted Mr. Quick.

"Good morning, sir-good morning," cried Robinson, disgusted, sick at heart; and he hurried home to his miserable lodging, where he wrote a letter to the parliamentary member, upbraiding him, in scorching words, with his broken promise.

The next morning Mr. Jones' footman brought back a missive from the senator, in which he "assured Mr. Robinson that he (Mr. J.) had not forgotten him; on the contrary, he (Mr. J.) had personally called at Mr. Quick's house; and not finding him at home, had left his (Mr. J.'s) busi

ness with the little boy, which Mr. Jones considered to be going quite far enough!"

A week afterwards, the election took place. Robinson, in utter hopelessness, addressed the board, soliciting the appointment. The day after the election, Mrs. Carey, with unusual smiles, informed her lodger that an old man from vestry had a letter for him.

'An old man?" asked Robinson, listlessly.

"From the workhouse; poor man; he's something of a scholar, and has seen better days."

"A scholar! the workhouse! and that will be my fate," muttered Robinson.

"Here he comes, sir," said Mrs. Carey, as she heard the old man shambling up the stairs.

The man crawled into the garret. His back was bent as with a hundred years, and he spoke in hissing, whistling tones. "I've brought a letter-hem! hem!-a letter-from the vestry-hem! There's good luck in it, I know-you 're elected schoolmaster."

The old man spoke truly. For once a vestry had been won by literature the intelligent style of Robinson had secured his election. Robinson was to appear before the board the next day to receive his appointment. "I-I was a schoolmaster once myself," said the old man.

"You!" sighed Robinson, as he gazed upon the human misery before him.

"Yes-I-I hope as I've brought you good news, you'll give me something to drink-nunc est bibendum-hem! hem !—I kepthouse at

"Good God!" exclaimed Robinson, "you are "-he said no more, but, holding one hand before his eyes, he with the other motioned to Mrs. Carey to lead away the old man, who was no other than "Jones, Brown and Robinson's flogging schoolmaster. The original cause of his fall was never fully known, but it was whispered that the pedagogue had been convicted of embezzling the pocket money of his scholars.

Robinson had compassed his wish. He could next day insure himself a decent competence. Therefore, at the hour the vestry met to confer the appointment, their chosen schoolmaster lay day-dreaming in his garret bed. His few remaining years were the years of a vagabond.

Such is the life of Brown who " could n't swim;" of Jones who could "swim a little ;" and of the capable Robinson who could "swim anywhere." He who was flogged for learning, lived and died a dunce; he who knew little, learned no more; and he who knew all things, had this precept scourged into his blood-to make use of none.

6

"THE BIRCH' IS FATHER OF THE MAN.'

It was said recently of a heartless but polished hypocrite, that the reason he never said mean things was because he was so fond of doing them.