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case of which is brown, and resembles leather; the egg is oblong in form, with tendrils curling from its corners.

One morning, at Madras, a little boy about eight years old, happened to be washed from a catamaran, which was managed by his father. Before he could be rescued from the water, a shark drew him under, and he was seen no more; the father lost not a moment, but calmly rose, and placing between his teeth a large knife, which he carried sheathed in his cummerband, plunged beneath the billows. He disappeared for some time, but after a while was seen to rise, and then dive down again, as if actively engaged with his foe. It was a period of painful suspense to those who were anxiously watching the issue from the boats outside the surf. After a time the surf was visibly tinged with blood. The man was again seen to rise, and to disappear, so that the work of death was evidently incomplete. After some further time had elapsed, to the astonishment of all who were assembled on the beach, the body of a huge shark was seen, for a few minutes, above the whitened spray, which it completely crimsoned, and then disappeared; an instant after, the man rose above the surf, and made for the shore; he seemed nearly exhausted, but had not a single mark upon his body, which bore no evidence whatever of the perilous conflict in which he had been engaged. He had scarce landed, when the shark, which was a very large one, was cast on shore by the billows. It was quite dead, and was immediately dragged by the assembled natives beyond the reach of the surge. It presented a most frightful spectacle, exhibiting fatal proof of the struggle which had taken place between this ravenous tyrant of the deep and the bereaved father.

When the shark was examined, it was found to have several deep gashes on its belly, from which its entrails protruded. The knife had evidently been plunged into the belly, and drawn downward with unerring precision, presenting an immense wound nearly two feet long. There were also several deep incisions about the gills, and below the fins; in short, it is impossible to describe the fearful evidences which the monster exhibited of the prowess and dexterity of the determined aggressor, who had so boldly perilled his life for his poor little child, and, as it was afterwards ascertained, his only child. As soon as the shark was drawn to a place of security, it was opened, when the head and limbs of the boy were taken from his stomach. The body was completely dismembered, and the head severed from it; the different parts, however, were not mutilated. It would seem that, after separation, the limbs were immediately swallowed,—that is to say, bolted. As soon as the poor father saw the mutilated remains of his child, he threw himself upon the ground in an agony of grief, and for a while refused all consolation.

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Let us to the Greenwood go.

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HEN sunbeam's threads are woven through

The warp and woof of Nature's green,
And glimmer forth, in golden hue,

The trembling boughs between,
While chequered shadows dance and play

With children in their holiday-
Then to the greenwood will we go,

And gambol to and fro.
We'll cull the wild anemonies,

And violets and pansies sweet ;
And jocund voices, 'mid the trees,

Of light hearts there shall speak.
Among the forest's tapestry,
Where snatches of the clear blue sky,
Above, in glimpses short, are seen,
We'll wander, talking, to the sheen
Of light and glory all around-
Our hearts upspringing with a bound,
Like young birds bursting forth on wing

Of ecstasy to meet the day.
And there we'll sport the time away,
In wild and strange imaginings,
And freaks of jocund jollity ;
Or, where the barbed sedges quiver,
We'll wander by some baby river,
And sing to it, as to a child,
Amid its courses sweetly wild,

While the broad water-flags display

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Their yellow pennants on the brooks,
And water wagtails fitful stray
Amid the quiet nooks
There, threading the dank reeds and rushes;

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And trailing briars and bramble-bushes,
Forgets-me-nots and meadows sweet,
Doing quaint homage at our feet.
We will forget all care, and dream
Away the hours beside the stream,
And lost to earth and all its folly,
Wrapped in tender melancholy;
Beneath the leafy dome,

There madrigals the summer birds
Shall to us fondly trill,

Speaking of love in honied words
That all the old woods fill.
The cookoo's cry shall be our clock;

The woodpecker's soft tapping bill,
The crickets chirping in the grass,
The click-clack of the distant mill,
Shall count the moments as they pass;
And the blythe bee that wanders by
Shall give his cheerful minstrelsy.
And the lark shall trill on high,

And there we will be merry ;
And flushing cheeks shall glow

Rich as the wild red berry, And gushing eyes shall overflow

Like dew flowers on the morn,

With joyful feelings deeper drawn Than worldly hearts can ever know. Then, to the greenwood come with me,

Sweet children, on your holiday ;

And we will gamble, skip, and play, And drive old Care away.

MARTIN.

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