Are you going always be found in the right lobby. Good night, God bless you," and they separated. "Well, I've some notion this week of staying until Wednesday morning." "Stay by all means. Do you good. Wish I could stay too. Saturday to Monday is hardly enough change for a man. And you'll have that charming young lady to walk about with." 'Miss Milner?" She was the lady last spoken of, and she occupied a prominent place in Frank Hobson's thoughts just at that moment. "No, not Miss Milner; not by any means; but the young lady you were walking with along the Prawnford Road under the umbrella this afternoon." Frank Hobson had breakfasted and sauntered out. The morning was very lovely. A blue sky, and a warm sun, and a gentle breeze that crimped and curdled the sea ever so tenderly. In tiny breakers the waves broke upon the shore, almost noiselessly: as though it had fallen asleep in the sunshine, and they were loth to disturb its rest. A very day for indolent enjoyment; for the neglect of what the world might call duty; for putting care far from one, and leaving business to take care of itself. A day to devote to the goddess Nature; to bow before her benefactions; to bask in her beauty; to He had actually repose happily and gratefully at her feet with a sort of animal confidence and fidelity. Certainly I can't go up to town such a day as this," said Frank Hobson; and he seemed to drink deeply of the glory of the day; the delights of the draught mounting to his brain. "New Square, Lincoln's Inn, was never so hateful to me as at this moment. What I should like would be to sit on the beach all day, and lazily pitch pebbles into the sea, with a lazy arm round- -" he hesitated for a moment, and then added, "round Sophy Brown's waist." The Sybarite! I really can't forbear calling him names. "Oh!" said Mr. Hobson. forgotten all about Sophy Brown. "What! You've never been thinking of Miss Milner, too, have you?" inquired Mr. Blatherwick. And then he laughed exceedingly. “I do believe you have. And you don't know whether she prefers you or Barlow. It's a toss-up between you, in fact." This random shot came so dangerously near the mark, that Frank Hobson hastened to change the conversation, and start a new topic. "I see your friend What's-his-name has been making a second speech at Shuttlecombe," he said. "If you ask my advice-which of course you won't, by the way-you won't have much to say to Miss Milner, while you've a chance of winning that other trim little wench." Having delivered himself of which dictum, Mr. Blatherwick duly rose to the bait his companion .had held out to him. "What's that you say about the man What's-his-name? Yes, I see he made another speech yesterday. It's in the Sunday paper. The infamous scoundrel-" and then the old gentleman was fairly launched in a raging sea of political discussion. He flung about hard names and strong sayings with his customary impetuosity and recklessness. He got regularly into his polemical stride, as it were, and went a-head amazingly charging his foes, beating down their resistance, giving no quarter and seeking none. He had little notion of compromise. The man who didn't think as he did, was an idiot or a villain, and so that matter was settled. He was certainly a despotic old gentleman. But Frank Hobson humoured him; gave him "plenty of line," as he phrased it; permitted him to have his own way; and altogether got on very well with him. They finished their brandy-and-water. "We'll bring you into the House some day," Mr. Blatherwick said as he lighted their chamber candles. "I know you'd 66 Just then Sophy Brown appeared upon the parade. She had books under her arm, and was making her way to the Circulating Library. "You surely haven't the heart to quit Beachville such a morning as this, Mr. Hobson ?" said Sophy Brown. No, I haven't the heart." He spoke very deliberately; and held the while the hand Miss Brown had proffered him; held it after he had finished, indeed; altogether a much longer time than there was any occasion for; until Miss Brown seemed to be somewhat inconvenienced by the proceeding. "Have you seen Matilda this morning? she asked; probably by way of saying something. Mr. Hobson said he had not seen Matilda that morning; and said it in a tone that seemed to imply that he had no desire to see Matilda that morning. 66 'She's somewhere on the parade, or on the beach." becoming to a morning-suited gentleman at the sea-side. At Miss Brown's bidding he brought his telescope to bear upon Beachville, its neighbourhood and visitors; and swept the horizon and the beach. 'I see nothing of her," he said. Just then he turned his glass towards Beachville pier-a gracefully-proportioned, light, iron structure, stretching out across the shingle and sand into the sea. At low water it was possible to reach the stone and composition blocks upon which the pier was founded, and to seek there for the curiosities and treasures dear to the collectors of "common objects.' Generally, therefore, busy little groups of such collectors were to be seen haunting the foundations of Beachville pier at low water, searching about industriously, with bent frames, reckless concerning the wetting of shoe-leather and the display of hose. It seemed to Mr. Hobson that beneath Beachville pier, a long way off, as near to the sea as she could possibly get, he could perceive Matilda Milner. Yes, certainly that was Matilda Milner's figure! And close to her was the Reverend Mr. Barlow! He was assisting her assiduously as she stepped from stone to stone-perhaps too assiduously, for now his arm was round her waist for quite a protracted period, and now-yesMr. Hobson through his Dollond distinctly perceived the Reverend George Barlow kiss Miss Matilda Milner! at her own control and disposal; and in which, moreover, every penny that may ever come into possession of the husband is to be brought into settlement, too, for the wife's benefit. Depend upon it, if Miss Milner marries Barlow, she'll tie him up hand and foot; and she'll prevent him from ever touching a halfpenny of her money without her consent. Not an enviable position for a husband, is it? To be obliged to ask his wife for half-a-crown if he wants to buy a pair of gloves! Better far to marry a nice woman without a rap. Poor Barlow! What are you tearing up?" "Only a letter I thought of sending. But I shan't now." Mr. Hobson was rending into very small pieces the letter he had retained for so many hours in his breast-pocket. (To be continued.) AN INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF A SAILOR. IT was in the winter of 18-, when I was second officer of the old Agincourt, that we were off the Cape of Good Hope, and homeward bound from Bombay to Falmouth for orders. We had experienced very bad weather and contrary winds for three or four weeks, when one afternoon, Cape Recife being in sight, the wind changed to the eastward, blowing a strong gale. It was a fair wind, a thing very rarely met with off the Cape during Mr. Hobson closed his telescope abruptly, the winter months, when westerly winds prenoisily. "She's under the pier," he said to Miss Brown, "and Barlow with her. I don't think they want to be disturbed." "I daresay not," Miss Brown said, with a quiet smile. Frank Hobson hurried to the Royal Hotel. In the coffee-room he found Mr. Blatherwick. "I'm off by the 10.40," said Mr. Blatherwick. "I think there's something in it," said Frank Hobson, significantly. "You remember what we were talking about last night?" Mr. Blatherwick understood him perfectly. "Poor Barlow!" said Mr. Blatherwick. "Let him make his 'advantageous match.' I hope all his creditors may follow my example and give him time. But I expect he'll have to depend upon his wife's clemency, after all. She'll hold the purse-strings; not a doubt of it. Still, I don't suppose she'll allow him to go to prison-not just yet, at all events. What do you think?-I don't mind telling you-in strict confidence, of course. What do you think she wanted of me the other day-a month ago-and had of me, too? A form of marriage settlement, in which all the wife's money is settled strictly upon herself-left absolutely vail. We set all plain sail, with starboard foretopmast studding-sail, and lower studdingsail, the captain being determined to make the most of a wind which we hoped would enable us to weather the Cape of Good Hope before the wind changed back to its old quarter. Everybody was in high spirits at the hope of doubling the Cape before the next evening, as the constant westerly gales and tacking ship for the last three weeks had wearied and disgusted all hands. Our provisions also were falling short, and symptoms of scurvy were beginning to show themselves among the crew, who were fairly exhausted with the work of beating about off the Cape against adverse gales for nearly a month. It was my last "dog-watch," so I went on the quarter-deck at 6 p.m. to relieve the chief officer. The night was very dark, the wind blowing a strong gale and a heavy sea running; the good old ship tore along at the rate of ten knots an hour, a speed which the poor old tub very rarely attained; we were, however, carrying a heavy press of canvas. The chief officer gave me the course, telling me to keep a good look-out for Cape Francis, for which we were steering to pass five miles off. When the chief officer left me, an undefinable presentiment came over me: although every- ing on board at the same time a tremendous sea. I heard the chief officer sing out, "Hold on, every one, fore and aft," an order which one poor fellow had evidently not been able to do, as I directly afterwards heard the agonising cry of a drowning man astern. No one heard him but myself, and as I knew the utter impossibility of rendering him any assistance, I said nothing, for fear of discouraging the men. I shall never forget the fearful cries of the poor fellow, and how they gradually died away as the ship left him far astern. Once more we struck, but not so heavily; and then, after a half hour, which appeared like a life time, we knew we must be clear of the breakers. On sounding the pumps and examin the hold, and increasing fast. The force with which she had struck had actually bent the ship, or hogged her, as we say in nautical parlance. On heaving the ship down at the Cape, we found part of the main-keel knocked away, and the copper on both sides scraped off by the rocks, and puckered up like the folds of a dress. You can imagine from this fact what a miraculous escape we had. Of course it was all hands at the pumps; and thus we continued for a fortnight, the winds again becoming contrary when we got into Simon's Bay, done up with pumping, cold, wet, and scurvy. thing was apparently right, I felt very uneasy. I was leaning over the weather bulwark rail, peering anxiously into the darkness, when the chief officer rejoined me. At that moment I thought I could perceive a dark line on the horizon outside the lower studdingsail. "By Jove! Brown," I cried to the chief officer, "I think I see the land!" He laughed, and told me it was impossible, as the course we were steering would take us five miles clear of the outer reefs. He went forward to see if he could descry anything ahead. I presently saw him hurrying aft; at the same time I perceived breakers on both bows. I cried out to the helmsman to put the helm "hard up," to bring the ship's heading the ship, we found three feet of water in off shore; but the man at the wheel, who happened to be a young sailor, seeing the breakers, at that moment became paralysed with terror and put the helm the wrong way, and so directing the ship's course into the very midst of the rocks. I rushed to the wheel, and with the greatest difficulty put the helm "hard up," the man holding on to it so convulsively that I had him half over the wheel before he let go. We were now, in less time than it takes me to tell my story, in the midst of a seething mass of breakers, the sea beating on the rocks with the noise of thunder. Nothing was to be seen in the darkness but the dazzling white waves, which broke round us as high as our lower mast-heads, making the darkness more terrific from the contrast. Apparently nothing could save us, as we were quite surrounded by rocks, and unable to see our way to steer clear of them. So convinced did I feel of the utter impossibility of being saved, that I said to the chief officer, "It is all up with us, Brown."-"I think so too," was the answer. But, however hopeless a case may be, it is not in the nature of a British sailor to give in while there is a ghost of a chance in his favour. In this case nothing could be done but put the ship's head off shore, and then trust to Providence to take us clear of the rocks. This was done: then came a half hour of dreadful suspense, the ship tearing through the water like a racehorse, the sea around us one mass of foam, the breakers occasionally dashing as high as our mast-heads, and some of the seas falling on board. As the ship's head paid off to the southward she struck violently, but the press of sail still carried her onward, plunging and tearing along as if she knew the danger she was in. The captain came rushing up the companion ladder, asking what was the matter. I told him we were amongst the breakers. He ordered me to remain at the wheel, and keep her head south. Again she struck, tak Such is a brief outline of the hairbreadth escapes and hardships of a nautical life. I will only add, that the poor fellow who fell over and was lost had been away from home for five years, and that he had just had a small and unexpected legacy left him, and was on his way home to share it with his mother, his only relative, when death thus suddenly and fearfully overtook him. LANCELOTE H. DUNCAN. A CHAPTER ON SNAILS. AMONG the creatures most familiar to all of us, are snails. There is scarce a child that has ever known the delight of playing in field or garden, or even by the roadside, or anywhere away from the hard-paved street and polluted gutter, but has often picked them up to admire the neat, and in some even of our most common species, prettily-coloured shell, and watched them with wondering interest as they crawled along, each with its house upon its back, and tried experiments upon them by touching their "horns," to see how quickly those soft sensitive organs were withdrawn into the head. And humble as is their place in the scale of creation, the naturalist finds much that is admirable-as, indeed, there is in all creatures-in their structure and its perfect adaptation to their mode |