was myself present, and a good deal struck at the time by the words. They escaped, however, without comment, and as I could not connect them in any way with anything leading to suspicion of foul play, nothing further was said, and the circumstances passed from my mind, to return, however, with terrible distinctness and meaning thereafter. A sudden seizure of cramp was taken as the cause of death, a verdict returned accordingly, and young Westerton, just about to step into the arena of active life, was laid stark and disfigured in the vault of his forefathers.

"If this were an ordinary tale I am narrating, I ought I suppose in this place to descant upon the dreadful shock (though that for awhile it certainly was) this sad event occasioned to the bereaved bride-to send her with dishevelled hair into the woods, or to find her lying lifeless at the foot of some frightful precipice. There rises, however, in my mind's eye the vision of a still comely dame, not without sundry olive-branches springing around her, which quite precludes the propriety of that usually orthodox termination. Not that his intended wife was heartless or unfeeling. No; whilst she mourned for him, she mourned for him sincerely; but time, with its alleviations, tempered, though it might not obliterate, the smart, and his remembrance faded into one of those gentle sorrows which we must of necessity cause to stand apart from those active duties life still brings with it. As to the heartstruck and hopeless old father, let us draw over him the veil of deep and silent sympathy.

"More than two years now passed away, and I was on the banks of the burning Ganges. My duties carried me to one of the lesser towns on the river, where time soon began to hang rather heavily on my hands. Occasionally I would, out of the merest idleness, turn into the court of justice there, but was seldom rewarded in my quest of adventure by anything more than the most petty illustrations of the doings of the Indian Themis. At last there came a change, and of so startling a character, that neither during the remainder of my sojourn there, nor for a long time after, had I anything to complain of in the way of listlessness or apathy. It chanced that I one day entered the court-house at one door just as a mixed group of guards and offenders were leaving it by another. I had just time to recognise amongst them the, to me, unmistakable features of the Hindoo Gholab, but whether there as a custodian or infractor of the laws I was then unable to make out. It mattered little, however, as I knew where to obtain easy and certain information of any and everything connected with the adminis

tration of justice. On my return to my quarters, I found that the very men whom I wished to meet with were there, and were then discussing with some brother officers the details of a crime of an extraordinary nature, which had just come to light in that district. Several Hindoo girls had suddenly and mysteriously disappeared under the waters when performing their ablutions in the sacred stream, drawn under and devoured by alligators. Such was the general belief, until the body of one of them chanced to be picked up lower down the river, totally unmutilated, and deprived of certain valuable ornaments, which the young devotee was known to have had on when she went in. For a good while justice was completely at fault, but these ornaments having been traced to the possession of two men, over whose doings the strictest watch was preserved, the result was, that they were apprehended in a covered boat moored in the centre of the stream, almost in the act of despoiling one of their victims. It was supposed that a skilful diver, watching the opportunity of one being separated from the rest, rose through the waters, fixed a strong ligature to one of the lower limbs, and then dived off, whilst a confederate in the boat, by means of a rope and hold or purchase of some kind at the bottom of the river, drew the struggling swimmer irresistibly down, when death soon put an end to all efforts to escape.

"Whilst these particulars were being narrated I became more and more agitated, until I could no longer keep my seat. 'Why, major,' said one, you seem disturbed; can there be anything in the doings of these wretches of sufficient pungency to quicken—'

trees, such as the Burnham Beeches, and view their huge projecting roots, covered with scarlet and other lichens, and sometimes with diminutive ferns, and here and there various fungi will protrude themselves; the restless cry of the woodpecker is heard in the distance, and the oft-repeated but monotonous song of the chaffinch may be noticed. A blackbird, perhaps, utters his alarmed cry as a warning to other birds of approaching danger, and also to those rabbits which may have left their underground retreats and now hasten towards them. The song of a neighbouring nightingale is then silenced, and all is still, until the short crow of a cock pheasant in an adjoining brake reassures the frightened songsters in his neighbourhood. It is also pleasing to observe a family of jays, with their pretty plumage, flitting from tree to tree, keeping out of harm's way, for they are cautious birds, and passing the winter in happy sociability, until the breeding season of the next spring. Such are some of the scenes which a lover of Nature may meet with and enjoy in his walks in the country in the Spring, especially in those districts where woods and coppices are to be met with.

Nor is the Autumn without its charms. Orchards may be seen, with trees covered with rosy fruit, and reapers present themselves, busy in a fine field of wheat, either in cutting the heavy crop, or else in loading it in waggons, to be conveyed to a neighbouring stackyard. Swallows flit around, assembling for their departure to far-distant countries; trees begin to exhibit their pleasing autumnal foliage, more especially the beech, and near it may be seen

The rush-thatched cottage on the purple moor, Where ruddy children frolic round the door. Such is a picture which may frequently be witnessed, for it is taken from the life, during a walk in the country, and it is further heightened by flocks of rooks, as they soar overhead, and who appear to rejoice in their freedom, as they "pour their hoarse music on the peasant's ear."

But I must continue my description of a walk in the country. It is by the side of a clear purling stream, with a smiling sun cheering me as I wander along its banks. It is the month of May, when the beautiful Mayfly emerges from the stream in countless numbers a sight seldom witnessed but by honest anglers, and who rejoice at seeing these ephemera or day-flies, as they may preperly be called, for then the trout rise freely, and gorge themselves with the lovely insects. There are, indeed, few river-sights more pleasing, or I may add interesting, when the

history of the insect is known. When it is considered that these insects in their first and subsequent states are strictly aquatic, living under stones or in holes in the banks of the river below the water, where they remain from two to three years, yet their lives are very short when they emerge from the stream. Some live only three or four hours, many not so long. The time of their emerging differs in different rivers. In some of the rivers in Germany the transit often takes place after sunset; but while fishing in the River Colne, at Denham, near Uxbridge, I was witness some years ago to an astonishing number of ephemera emerging from the stream about 12 o'clock at noon on a fine sunny morning. It was a sight never to be forgotten. The trout were gorging themselves on the beautiful flies in every direction, but disdained to notice my artificial ones, to my great mortification, and also those of my companion, a well-known and expert angler of the Stockbridge Club.

It should be mentioned that, during the appearance of the May-flies, swallows assembled and fed on them, and wagtails and other insectivorous birds did the same, so that both birds and fishes had an ample supply of food.

He

But let me continue my walk by a riverside. We may see the gaudy dragon-flies settling on a bullrush, expanding their wings and exhibiting their gaudy colours, and feeding on the ephemera flitting around them. Then a kingfisher may be seen perched on a neighbouring willow, watching for its prey. Presently he sees a minnow or a small roach swim very near the surface of the water. darts down and seizes it, and, if he has young, conveys it to a hole in the muddy bank of the river, which probably had previously been the retreat of a water-rat. The beautiful plumage of the kingfisher sparkles like an emerald as it emerges from the stream, and cannot be sufficiently admired. A stealthy water-hen may, perhaps, be seen, stealing cautiously among the rushes, followed by her brood of young ones, who hide themselves quickly on the slightest alarm of danger. A willow-wren warbles its sweet notes, and a thrush is heard on the top of a neighbouring elm. Swallows fly over and dip in the clear sparkling stream, until the close of evening warns them to depart. But it is not all silence then: the nightingale pours forth its "sweet loud music," which is answered by a rival in some adjoining brake or copse. These "madrigals," as they have been called, are very pleasing.

Such are some of the scenes which a lover of Nature may meet with and enjoy. He will lay them up in his memory as the sources of much happiness through life.

EDWARD JESSE.