acute surveyor should have reserved them for of the hut. The wretched man lay wide the public. He had possessed himself of the awake, watching with a keen look the dooronly site for quays and wharves, for the erec-way, and as I advanced, he lifted up his tion of a church, and for the supply of spring right hand, and said— water. He had managed to monopolize woodlands, just where their magnificent timber was at hand for exportation. If they wanted a market, they must re-buy it of him. "That's you, doctor; but I'm better, we were in too great a hurry. You'll consider that, eh?' "You are better, you think?' "During this time I was feeling his pulse. He watched me with a look which betrayed a far deeper anxiety than his words would indicate. I put down his arm quietly, and sate in solemn silence on a rude stool, which the woman brought me to his bedside. "From what the man could tell me, I per66 6 O, much better! my pains are gone. ceived that the very complaint of which I had They were shocking, shocking. If I could formerly relieved him had seized him once but move my legs - but they seem to be more in his old age. I believed his time was bad. Yet what can ail them? I am betcome, but I did not feel justified in refusing ter, much better.' his call under such solemn circumstances, where no other aid was to be got; I resolved, however, to make a stand for some fair remuneration this time. When the messenger saw I hesitated to undertake the journey, he pulled from his pocket an open note. It was in Stonecrop's own scraggy, scrambling hand, now almost illegible from feebleness; but it offered large terms, which showed that he doubted of my coming. I wrote at the foot of the note that I accepted them, and made the messenger witness it. We went. "You think me better, doctor, don't you?' said the wasted old man with a ghastly and eager look. You must think so, I am so easy now.' "Mr. Stonecrop,' I said, in a tone to prepare him as well as I could for the truth, you are now an old man, and no circumstance should take you by surprise, especially where it concerns your most important affairs. You are easy; thank God for it; but don't calculate upon that as delaying the crisis at which we must all arrive. I cannot flatter you with hopes of recovery.' "The thin, prominent features of the dying man, which looked wan and bloodless before, at these words grew livid. His eyes glared on me with a fearful expression, their white gleaming with a strange largeness and glaziness. He clutched me by the sleeve with his big, bony hand, which yet seemed to retain an iron grasp. "When we descended into this new township it was evening, almost dark, and there was a fog so thick that, as my guide said, 'You might almost hang your hat up on it.' We made our way through roods of mire a yard deep, ploughed up by bullock-teams; and piles of sawn timber, and trunks of felled trees, amongst blazing fires that blinded us, when near, and which gave us no help at a distance for the dense haze. In the midst of all the indescribable confusion, discomfort, and ugliness of such a nascent settlement, we found our great man domiciled in a mere shed, which had been erected by some sawyers. There he had cooked for himself; and, if one might jest on such a subject, had literally "But you don't think I shall die soon? taken in and done for himself. The damp- Not for some days, weeks, months? No, no, ness of that low, hollow spot, and the inces- I cannot die. I have so much to do.' sant rains, had again produced a pleurisy. "Let me speak plainly to you,' I added. "A kind-hearted woman, the wife of aIf you have so much to do, you have little drayman just by, ad gone in at his cries, time to do it in. Your hours, nay, your and nursed him to the best of her ability. minutes, are numbered.' She described his agonies and moans as having been terrible; and when I said, but he is still now; she gave a look full of meaning, and said: "Yes, and to my thinking will soon be stiller.' "I went in. A candle burnt on a deal box, besides the bedstead, the only furniture "At these words, he lay for a few moments, as if stunned. Then, dragging hard at my sleeve, he exclaimed, in a fearful, gasping voice, between a screech and a whisper 'could save you for a second beyond the two short hours that the progress of your disease has marked out for you.' "But you must save me, doctor. You can do it; you did it before. Think what I have to do; what affairs I have unsettled; and that Widow Tredgold, who prayed that I might never see her mortgaged fields again. What won't she say? A judgment she 'll call it. No, no, doctor, save me! Say but the word, and I'll forgive the widow all. And those Hexam's children - them, too them, too! O Lord! O Lord! who would have to do with widows and orphans? A man has no chance. There is no driving a bargain with them with any comfort-only trouble, trouble, trouble! But let them do just as they like. Doctor, say the word, and I'll build a church here. They'll want one. Say it at once, doctor. I can't die, for I have so much so very much to do!' "Have you made your will?' "No-yes, I once did. I left my nephew the land, and my two nieces the houses and the money. But it would not do. When I looked on my lands they seemed no longer mine. These, I said, are Tom's; and when I looked at the houses and securities, these, I said, are Mary's and Jane's. No, no; they were no longer mine. I could not feel them mine, and I tore up the will.' "You must make another.' "Yes, yes, doctor-you'll give me time for that! O,I have so much - so very much to do!' "I gave the woman instructions to fetch in pen and paper, quickly; but such things are not soon procured in such a spot. When she was gone, I added: 'And your Maker' who has crowned you with so much of his wealth, how stand your preparations with him?' "Time enough for that, doctor. Let us make the will first. That's the first thingthat must be done first.' "He endeavored to turn himself, as if to be ready to dictate; but sudden spasms seized him; he gasped for breath; clutched convulsively my sleeve; groaned, his head fell back, and with a deep sigh, saying halfaudibly, 'I have so much to do!' the days of the great owner of many lands were over. The shrewd foreseer of events, the sagacious speculator, the keen safe bargainer, died, with his chief work unaccomplished the grand bargain of existence unsecured! "It has required the sharp ride of to-day, over rock, and stone, and fallen trunk, up steep jagged acclivities, and over many a mile of dark mountain forest, amid the moaning winds and the snapping boughs, to dissipate the black impression of that death-bed. But now for a sleep! The three friends threw themselves on their hard couches; and, at break of day, were travelling through a region of magnificent mountains, with a bright sun beaming above them amid flying clouds, towards the hospitable home of the accomplished and popular Esculapius. SELECTIONS FROM AUTHORS LITTLE KNOWN. Is there extant any work containing chosen extracts from unknown or obscure authors? And if not, would not such a work be a valuable addition to our literature, and be a good pecuniary speculation to the publisher? Among the many thousand volumes laid aside and forgotten (and each perhaps deservedly so, as a whole) by the public, and only known to the curious haunters of public libraries, there must be some passages worthy of being rescued from oblivion, either for their originality or beauty. I would instance what I mean by the lines from Aaron Hill's tragedy of Athelwold cited in "N. & Q.," Vol. v., pp. 78, 138, 212. The trag From Putnam's Monthly. THE RANGER. BY JOHN G. WHITTIER. ROBERT RAWLIN!- Frosts were falling Through the woods to Canada. And again the fields are gray. Where the lion, crouching high on Glares o'er wood and wave away; Come the sounds of fight and fray. Well-a-day! Hope and pray! Some are living, some are lying In their red graves far away. Pass the farm-gate on their way; "Let me with my charmed earth stay!" On the grain-lands of the mainlands By the hazy autumn day. Gaily chattering to the clattering Drop the red leaves all the day. Sun and cloud, o'er hill and hollow "Martha Mason, Martha Mason, Prithee tell us of the reason Why you mope at home to-day: Surely smiling is not sinning; Leave your quilling, leave your spinning: What is all your store of linen, If your heart is never gay? Come away, come away! Never yet did sad beginning Make the task of life a play." Overbending, till she 's blending With the flaxen skein she 's tending, Pale brown tresses smoothed away From her face of patient sorrow, Sits she, seeking but to borrow From the trembling hope of morrow, Solace for the weary day. "Go your way, laugh and play; Unto him who heeds the sparrow And the lily, let me pray." "With our rally rings the valley. Let us take them while we may. Singing tideward down the bay!" Sore and sad for Robert Rawlin Is my heart," she said, "to-day." "Vain your calling for Rob Rawlin, Foul and false the words you say!" Turns my heart, forever trying "When the shadows veil the meadows, Climb the twilight's walls of gray Cheery-voiced, can hear him teaming Universal Nature Revels in her birth, When God, in pleasant weather, Smiles upon the earth! Down the locust-shaded way; "When the growing dawn is showing, And the horned moon pales away, Then I hush the thought, and say, Look up, Martha ! worn and swarthy "Robert!" "Martha !" all they say. Hoary rime and chilly spray. When the bridal bells shall say, PLEASANT WEATHER. THANK God for pleasant weather! Chant it, merry rills! And clap your hands together, Ye exulting hills! And the silver rain. Thank God, of good the Giver! Thank God, with cheerful spirit, And our hopes above! MURMURS. WHY wilt thou make bright music Why turn each cool gray shadow Why think the winds are wailing? And Heaven's sunny gleam, Listen I will tell thee The song Creation sings, From humming-bees in heather To fluttering angels' wings : Not alone did angels sing it To the poor shepherds' ear, Above thy poor complaining When the starry night grows silent, O leave thy sick heart's fancies, DOUBLE LIFE. MAN hath two lives; the one of patient toil, under! From the United Service Magazine. SOCIETY AT PERA SINCE THE WESTERN INVASION. CONSTANTINOPLE combines all the disadvantages of an immense city with those of a small village. The distances are immense, and locomotion is both difficult and troublesome. Pera is a distinct city, inhabited by a mixed population of Greeks, Armenians, Perottes, and strangers. No Turk resides at Pera, with the exception of Haireddim Pasha, the Minister of Police. It is the seat of all the embassies, and possesses a small aristocracy of dragomen. Perhaps many people in England are not acquainted with the exact meaning of the word "dragoman." Literally, its signification is "interpreter." A valet de place is a dragoman; so is any person who undertakes to translate your ideas and words into another tongue. At Constantinople, however, when you speak of a dragoman, a diplomatic character or embassy interpreter is understood to be alluded to. I fear these gentlemen will not be much flattered at being brought into comparison with the roguish hangers-on of the Pera hotels. Ma come si fa? There is a bird which flies continually along the Bosphorus, up the very centre of that noble stream, skimming the surface of the waters -it has never been seen to rest-and is called the "condemned soul," the facetious add, of the dragoman. eral estimation. Queer stories are told of them at Pera; but then the world, and especially that portion of it which inhabits the Christian suburbs of Constantinople, is very envious scandal, gossip, and backbiting being their chief occupation and delight. The day of dragomanial grandeur is now fast waning. It is, however, still impossible to transact business at the Porte without the dragoman. The French and Austrian embassies have already got rid of their Levantine interpreters, those situations being occupied by gentlemen who have acquired the knowledge of Eastern languages in Europe. At Vienna there is an excellent college, where young men are educated for the purpose of being employed in the embassies, legations, and consulates in the East. It must certainly both be more safe and agreeable to have to deal with your own countrymen than with a hired stranger. The immense and responsible confidence that necessarily must be placed in the first dragoman of an embassy, renders this point a matter well worthy of serious consideration. State secrets are in the mouths of such men; and, consequently, full and implicit reliance in the trustworthiness, zeal, and attachment of the dragoman must exist. For these considerations, an educated gentleman from his own country were preferable to a hired stranger; and the emoluments appertaining to the office being very considerable, and the employment both interesting and of a high political character, candidates would not be wanting. Government has already had its attention drawn to this point; and the subject was taken up, I believe, particularly by Lord Palmerston when Minister of Foreign Affairs, and some steps were taken for instructing English gentlemen in Eastern languages, in The dragoman has his kaique and his three order that so important a diplomatic position kaikdgis, who row him backwards and for- should no longer be held by a stranger. On wards for the diplomatic interest of the the other hand, there is much that speaks country, whose languages he is understood strongly for the maintenance of the old systo translate to the Turks at the Porte, and tem. A dragoman must in a manner be an whose interest he thus represents. They are inhabitant of Constantinople, acquainted a very numerous body, and are divided into with the habits of both the land and the different ranks and grades-as first, second, people, born and bred in the country. The and third dragomen, &c.; dragomen of the mere knowledge of the Turkish language is embassy; dragomen of the consulate, &c., not sufficient for the duties of dragoman: a &c. The principal dragoman of one of the knowledge of the Turk himself is indispengreat embassies such as England, France, sable. They are a curious people, the reverse Russia, or Austria-is a person of very of the European in their customs and ideas great influence and no small importance. cunning, yet simple in many respects. I Ambassadors of very little experience in the heard them once compared to children, beEast, little energy, or little ability for fore a nobleman who has a long experience even diplomacy has its blockheads- trust of the East. "Children? Ay, if so, they implicitly to their dragoman. They are, are very wicked ones!" was his apt and however, unfortunately, not a very patriotic true remark. or unselfish race of men; but enjoy, together with many other good people, little gen In summer his is a troublesome life, especially after such a visit as that made by Prince Menschikoff in the spring of 1853. All the ambassadors and other diplomatic men — and, indeed, whoever can manage or afford to do so-seek the cool breezes of the Bosphorus. So do all the ministers of the Porte, and every Pasha who has a tail, from three downwards. The life of a dragoman is irksome and full of toil at times. Intervals, however, elapse |