vision fled, but it left in my breast the desire stronger now than ever to make my own way in the world, by the blessing of Providence; and Providence has never deserted me yet, Archie, lad.

"I went straight home. I saw Major Walton, and talked to him, and told him all.

"He seemed sorry. The last words he said to me when I went away-and there was moisture in the old man's eyes as he spoke-were these:

"Mind, I'm not tired of you, and I hope to live to meet you once again.'

"I went to Southampton next day. I thought I had nothing to do but march on board some outward-bound ship, that they would be glad to have me.

"Alas! I was disappointed.

"I was rudely jostled and laughed at, I was called a Scot, a Sawnie, a Johnny-raw, but work was never once offered me.* "I wandered about the streets, not knowing what to do. The few coins I had in my possession did not last many days.

"I felt sad and unhappy. I felt almost sorry I had left the good people who had done so much for me. The 'bairnies' had been in tears when I went away; even the black-and-tan terrier had followed me a long way down the road, and looked very 'wae and wistfu'' at me with his brown beseeching eyes when I said he must go back.

"For two whole days I had hardly anything to eat. My flute, that I was fain to fall back upon, failed to support me, for the English, Archie, have not so much music and romance in their souls as the Scotch have. But one thing the English have is this, Archie, sound common-sense and a love of derring-do.

*The author hopes some boy who meditates running away to sea may

read these lines.

"I was standing one day on the pier at Plymouth. I had played my way with my flute all this distance in the hopes of getting a ship. I was no more successful than before.

*

"On this particular day, Archie, the drum was up, the wind blew cold and high, and the seas tossed their white manes as they rushed each other up the bay. I was feeling very sad and disconsolate, when all at once I heard a voice say to a man beside me,

"I'll give a guinea to be taken out to yonder ship.'

"I don't care to win no guinea,' said the fellow addressed, a hulking boatman in a rough blue jersey. 'I don't care to win no guinea on a day like this. 'Sides, sir, I hain't got no mate.'

"You!' said the gentleman; 'why, you're but a child.' "I'm a Scotch boy,' I replied, and I know boating well.'

“All right, my lad; jump in.'

"It took us nearly an hour, but we did it.

"I was very wet, and the gentleman kindly took me below, and gave me warm coffee.

"Now,' he said, 'I'm going to give you half a guinea, and the man half, for if he has to change the gold, he will cheat you.'

"Are you captain of this ship, sir?' I asked.

“I am, lad; I'm all that is for the captain.'

“Well, sir,' I said, 'give the man all the guinea, and take

me with you as a boy.'

“I then told him all my story.

"We don't sail for a week,' he said, 'and if in that time you get your mother's consent, I'll be glad to have so plucky a youngster on board my craft.'

*The storm signal.

"My dear mother gave her consent, as you know, Archie; and so I became a sailor and a wanderer."

I have but epitomised Kenneth's story. He took much longer time to tell it than I, the author of this little book, am doing, and besides, there was much conversation interspersed with it betwixt him and his old friend Archie.

The moon was high up above the forest trees before he finished, shedding a flood of golden light over mountain and sea, so, promising to resume his narrative next evening, Kenneth arose, and soon after all was silent and dark inside this peaceful cottage.

'On, on the vessel flies; the land is gone,
And winds are rude in Biscay's sleepless bay;
Four days are sped, but with the fifth anon,
New shores descried make every bosom gay."

BYRON.

SCENE: The Spanish Senor and his two guests, Kenneth and Archie, once more together, not in the mountain cottage to-night, but in a cave, close down by the edge of the sea. It was the sea that was lisping on the sands not far from where they sat on the rocks, but the view beyond was one of moonlight, trees, rocks, and water combined, altogether very beautiful, and in some respects almost English-like.

Yes, now by moonlight it looked thoroughly English, but if by day you had rowed round these rocks, you would soon have been undeceived, for sharks in dozens visited the deep water, and in the cracks beyond were alligators, active and strong, and very hideous-looking crabs often crawled up the wet black cliffs; and among the trees themselves were great snakes, deadly and venomous; but it all looked very quiet and lovely now.

Κ'

ENNETH was fond of caves, and there were plenty of them about here.

He kept his boat in one. That very day, together the two

friends had launched it, and spent all the long hours of sunlight in sailing or rowing about among the lovely islands of this sparkling sea, that look on a calm day as if they were actually afloat not in the water, but in the sky itself.

"My life," said Kenneth, resuming his narrative of the day