Gandelin. Pr'ythee, hold thy tongue, and let us eat

our suppers.

Alfred. How refreshing is this sweet new milk, and this wholesome bread!

Gubba. Eat heartily, friend.

him, Gandelin ?

Gandelin. We have but one there is fresh straw in the barn.

Where shall we lodge

bed, you know; but

Alfred (aside). If I shall not lodge like a king, at least I shall lodge like a soldier. Alas! how many of my poor soldiers are stretched on the bare ground.

Gandelin. What noise do I hear? It is the trampling of horses. Good husband, go and see what is the matter.

Alfred. Heaven forbid my misfortunes should bring destruction on this simple family! I had rather have perished in the wood.

GUBBA returns, followed by ELLA with
his sword drawn.

Gandelin. Mercy defend us, a sword!

Gubba. The Danes! the Danes! O, do not kill us! Ella (kneeling). My liege, my lord, my sovereign! have I found you?

Alfred (embracing him). My brave Ella!

Ella. I bring you good news, my sovereign! Your troops that were shut up in Kinwith Castle made a desperate sally-the Danes were slaughtered. The fierce Hubba lies gasping on the plain.

Alfred. Is it possible! Am I yet a king?

Ella. Their famous standard, the Danish raven, is taken; their troops are panic-struck; the English soldiers call aloud for Alfred. Here is a letter which will inform you of more particulars. (Gives a letter.)

Gubba (aside). What will become of us? Ah! dame, that tongue of thine has undone us!

Gandelin. O, my poor dear husband! we shall all be hanged, that's certain. But who could have

thought it was the king?

Gubba. Why, Gandelin, do you see, we might have guessed he was born to be a King, or some such great man, because, you know, he was fit for nothing else.

Alfred (coming forward). God be praised for these tidings! Hope has sprung up out of the depths of despair. O, my friend! shall I again shine in arms, -again fight at the head of my brave Englishmen,lead them on to victory! Our friends shall now lift up their heads again.

Ella. Yes, you have many friends, who have long been obliged, like their master, to skulk in deserts and caves, and wander from cottage to cottage. When they hear you are alive, and in arms again, they will leave their fastnesses, and flock to your standard.

Alfred. I am impatient to meet them: my people shall be revenged.

Gubba and Gandelin (throwing themselves at the feet of ALFRED). O my lord

Gandelin. We hope your majesty will put us to a merciful death. Indeed, we did not know your majesty's grace.

Gubba. If your majesty could but pardon my wife's tongue; she means no harm, poor woman.

Alfred. Pardon you, good people! I not only pardon you, but thank you. You have afforded me protection in my distress; and if ever I am seated again on the throne of England, my first care shall be to reward your hospitality. I am now going to protect you. Come, my faithful Ella, to arms! to arms! My bosom burns to face once more the haughty Dane; and here I vow to Heaven, that I will never sheath the sword against these robbers, till either I lose my life in this just cause, or

Till dove-like Peace return to England's shore,

And war and slaughter vex the land no more.

89

SEVENTH EVENING.

ON THE PINE AND FIR TRIBE.

A Dialogue.
Tutor-George-Harry.

Tut. Let us sit down awhile on this bench, and look about us. What a charming prospect!

What

Har. I admire those pleasure-grounds. beautiful clumps of trees there are in that lawn! Geo. But what a dark, gloomy wood that is at the back of the house!

Tut. It is a fir plantation; and those trees always look dismal in the summer, when there are so many finer greens to compare them with. But the winter is their time for show, when other trees are stripped of their verdure.

Geo. Then they are evergreens!

Tut. Yes; most of the fir tribe are evergreens; and as they are generally natives of cold, mountainous countries, they contribute greatly to cheer the wintry landscape.

Geo. You were so good, when we walked out last, to tell us a great deal about oaks. I thought it one of the prettiest lessons I ever heard. I should be glad if you would give us such another about firs.

Har. So should I too, I am sure.

Tut. With all my heart, and I am pleased that you ask me. Nothing is so great an encouragement to a tutor as to find his pupils of their own accord seeking after useful knowledge.

Geo. And I think it is very useful to know such things as these.

Tut. Certainly it is. Well then You may know the Pine or Fir tribe in general at first sight, as most of them are of a bluish-green colour, and all have

leaves consisting of a strong, narrow, pointed blade, which gives them somewhat of a stiff appearance. Then all of them bear a hard, scaly fruit, of a longish or conical form.

Har. Are they what we call fir-apples?

Tut. Yes; that is one of the names boys give them. Har. We often pick them up under trees, and throw them at one another.

Geo. I have sometimes brought home my pocket full, to burn. They make a fine clear flame.

Tut. Well-do you know where the seed lies in them? Geo. No-have they any?

Tut. Yes; at the bottom of every scale lie two winged seeds; but when the scales open, the seeds fall out; so that you can seldom find any in those you pick up.

Har. Are the seeds good for anything?

Tut. There is a kind of pine in the south of Europe, called the Stone Pine, the kernels of which are eaten, and said to be as sweet as an almond. And birds pick out the seeds of other sorts, though they are so well defended by the woody scales.

Har. They must have good strong bills, then.

Tut. Of this tribe of trees a variety of species are found in different countries and are cultivated in this. But the only kind native here, is the Wild Pine, or Scotch Fir. Of this there are large natural forests in the highlands of Scotland; and the principal plantations consist of it. It is a hardy sort, fit for barren and mountainous soils, but grows slowly.

Geo. Pray what are those very tall trees, that grow in two rows before the old hall in our village?

Tut. They are the Common or Spruce Fir, a native of Norway, and other northern countries, and one of the loftiest of the tribe. But observe those trees that grow singly in the grounds opposite to us, with widespread branches pointing downwards, and trailing on the ground, thence gradually lessening, till the top of the tree ends almost in a point.

Har. What beautiful trees!

Tut. They are the pines called Larches, natives of the Alps and Apennines, and now frequently planted o decorate our gardens. These are not properly evergreens, as they shed their leaves in winter, but quickly recover them again. Then we have, besides, the Weymouth Pine, which is the tallest species in America the Silver Fir, so called from the silvery hue of its foliage the Pinaster—and a tree of ancient fame, the Cedar of Lebanon.

Geo. I suppose that is a very great tree.

Tut. It grows to a large size, but is very slow in coming to its full growth.

Geo. Are Pines and Firs very useful trees?

Tut. Perhaps the most so of any. By much the greatest part of the wood used among us comes from them.

Har. What more than from the oak?

Tut. Yes, much more. Almost all the timber used in building houses, for floors, beams, rafters, and roofs, is fir.

Geo. Does it all grow in this country?

Tut. Scarcely any of it. Norway, Sweden, and Russia, are the countries whence we chiefly draw our timber, and a vast trade there is in it. You have seen timber-yards?

Geo. O yes-several.

Tut. In them you would observe some very long, thick beams, called balks. These are whole trees, only stripped of the bark and squared. You would also see great piles of planks, and boards, of different lengths and thickness. Those are called deal, and are ✓ brought over, ready sawn, from the countries where they grow. They are of different colours. The white are chiefly from the fir-tree; the yellow and red from the pine.

Har. I suppose there must be great forests of them in those countries, or else they could not send us so much.