Ile was cordially welcomed, for he was himself; and there, on his bended knee, he promised, and called upon Heaven to record his vow, that he would never again taste the intoxicating cup. He had been discharged that afternoon, and had been endeavoring till that late hour to find his wife and son. He had finally traced them to their new home. In the course of the evening, after the past had been fully discussed, Fitz brought up the matter of Mr. Checkynshaw's child, and all the facts which had been developed were fully stated to him. We dismounted and picketed our horses; and then, in obedience to the trapper, got down on our hands and knees, and crawled along in the grass towards the herd. "Yer needn't be afraid on 'em, my lad," said Bucket. "Buffler never yit attacked human critter-ner bison uther. They looks ugly, but they are a harmless creatur." Indeed they did look ugly. A more ferocious face and head than that of the bison I never beheld. That of the lion or tiger is not so menacing in aspect. As we crawled up close to the herd, I could not but feel an instinctive in be any prospect of their turning upon us. The herd was constructed with a wise instinct. The bulls, large and formidable, were ranged on the Fitz found a warm supporter of his views inclination to jump up and run, if there should his father, who declared that the quitclaim deed was not valid, because he had not joined her in making it. Within three days, proceedings in equity were commenced against Mr. Check-outside, with the cows and calves within; thus ynshaw. [TO BE CONTINUED.] OUT ON THE PRAIRIES. BY WIRT SIKES. XXIV. STALKING THE BISON. To save unnecessary fatigue to Captain Barnes, we went on horseback, as it was at least a mile to the herd, and there would be work enough to do on foot after arriving. AFTER breakfast we set out. The wind blew a gentle but steady breeze from the herd towards us. This was in our favor, for if it had been blowing from us towards the herd, we should have been compelled to make a detour of some miles in order to get on the opposite side of the herd. With the wind blowing from us towards them, the bisons would scent us, and take to their heels in affright. The keenest sense of the bison, as of the deer and most other game, is the sense of smell. The herd was no longer on the move, but had stopped to graze. We rode on cautiously, taking the shelter of hilly parts of the prairie when we could, until we reached a point so near that we could distinguish the members of the herd in all their shaggy ferocity of aspect. They look more dangerous than even Indians," said Master Fred. 66 to present their strongest front to the coyotes, which are ever hanging about the bison's track, and watching for their prey. But no prairie wolf dares attack a bison bull when protecting the herd. We came closer so close that we could look into their brilliant black eyes, and their overhanging upper lips. Their horns were black and strong, curving outward and upward, and tapering to a sharp point. The head, shoulders, and neck were covered with shaggy masses of almost black hair, while from their jaws drooped a long beard of the same gloomy hue. Back of the shoulders, the body was covered with short, fine hair, of a dark brown color, and as smooth as velvet, while the tail was short and tufted. I had not long to observe the animals thus carefully before the air echoed to the loud crack of Bucket's rifle, and in rapid succession came the reports of our own pieces. Fred and I both fired at the same bison -a huge bull, which looked as if he could easily have trampled our whole party to death. His back was towards us, and, in answer to my shot, which struck him in the side, near the haunch, he gave a contemptuous flirt of his little tail, and a sort of shrug of his smooth back. None of the herd took alarm at the reports of our guns, and as for the bull at which we shot he did not even turn around to look at us. "Fire at his vitals, my lad," said Bucket, reloading his piece, which had already laid a bison low. "Keep cool. Take him 'bout eight er nine inches back of ther shoulder, and jest below ther centre of his carkis." Crack! went Fred's rifle. The bull gave an angry bellow, and fell We were not twenty yards away, crouching in the grass, and still the herd did not take | the alarm. We poured in upon them our fire with the utmost coolness, no longer feeling any fear; and victim after victim fell. "No more, gentle-men," said Bucket, standing erect and lifting his hand. "Don't waste yer ammernition, ner yit ther buffler. We have got enough for to-day, and ther man that'll kill a harmless creatur that he hain't no use fer is not ther man ter travel with Bill Bucket." Accordingly we all rose to our feet. There was a great commotion among the guardian bulls directly. They set up a roar that was echoed and re-echoed along the sea of shaggy heads, till it sounded in the distance like rumbling thunder. IN [TO BE CONTINUED.] THE HIDDEN SPRING. A TALE OF HUNGARY. the BY J. B. Howser. year 14, the strong and impregnable castle of Trensien was in the possession of Zapolya, a powerful Hungarian lord. This castle was situated upon the summit of a high and rocky precipice, where no water could be obtained, only such as was procured from the cisterns which had been dug; and at the present time the supply was nearly exhausted. Zapolya had taken a great many prisoners in the Hungarian war which was raging at that time, among whom was a beautiful young Turkish lady by the name of Fatime. She was, when captured, in the company of her lover, an officer in the Turkish army, named Omar; and the latter was very angry to think that she should be so ruthlessly stolen from him, and but for the strength of Zapolya, he would have attacked the castle and rescued her. But, knowing that he could accomplish nothing by force of arms, he adopted a plan by which he hoped to set her free. Disguising himself as a merchant, he, with a few servants, repaired to Trensien, and offered a heavy ransom for her. Zapolya was loath to part with Fatime, for his wife had become impressed with the charms of the maiden, and had taken her for a handmaid, in order to save her from the toils and sorrows of a slave. "Will you permit me to even see the maiden?" questioned Omar, when his en "Trensien is at present wanting a supply of fresh water; and, if the merchant will bring us a bountiful supply from yonder solid rock, he shall have the maiden." This was said in a bantering manner; but the lover was willing to undertake anything for Fatime; but, as if doubting the words of Zapolya, he asked, "Is my lord in earnest? and will he fulfil his agreement if I succeed?" "You have my word, upon my knightly honor." Enough. I will commence the work on the morrow. Fatime, return to your mistress, and pray for my success." She obeyed, and Omar was alone. That night, as he lay sleeping, he was suddenly aroused by a touch, and springing to his feet, he saw standing before him an old woman, with a tattered cloak thrown about her person. "The young man would accomplish his work as speedily as possible?" she asked. "I would." "If you will obtain the release of my son, who is a slave and prisoner within those castle walls, I will reveal a secret which has long been buried in my heart, and one that will enable you to gain the maiden." 66 'Only make known to me a way by which I can rescue Fatime, and I will do whatever you ask." "Then listen. Underneath that large rock from which you are to bring a fountain of water, is a living spring, clear as crystal and pure as silver, and by removing the rock, and digging a few feet, your task is at an end.” "Thank Heaven, Fatime is mine again!" Omar could sleep no more that night, and long before daybreak he and his servants were at the work of removing the mammoth rock, and soon he had the satisfaction of seeing it tumbled down the precipice. Still there were no signs of water, and he commenced digging through a mass of broken stones; and ere long, a small stream of water gently trickled down the steep, which soon gave way to a larger one. His task was finished. Zapolya was amazed; but he remained true | slovenly about his appearance, his style being to his word, and Fatime was free. more dégagé than negligent. Omar succeeded in procuring the release of the son of the woman, and he afterwards found that she was an old Turkish widow, who lived in the vicinity of Trensien, and whose son was a soldier in the Turkish army. She was acquainted with the fact of the existence of the spring, but had never revealed it, only to recover her son. His wife, who had been very pretty in her youth, was just the reverse of her husband; for she was short, stout, and somewhat dowdyish in her dress. Her hair and eyes were also dark; but there was an unpleasant look about them, which had a slight aspect of vixenism. She was, however, an excellent, hard-working, faithful, and affectionate wife to her somewhat Omar and Fatime were happy, and lived for shiftless husband, who threw upon her almost a long time in perfect peace and joy. all, if not all of the onus of their domestic cares and requirements. Byron, who hated good wives, hated her, and wrote the verse in Don Juan to spite her "Besides, I always hate a dumpy woman." Their sons were named John, Thornton, Henry, and Vincent; their daughters, Marianne, Jacynthe, and Julia. This band of seven were devotedly attached to their father, who treated them more as friends than as children. One of Leigh Hunt's most amusing reminiscences was the trial he underwent for libelling the Prince Regent, afterwards George the Fourth; or, as Lord Byron, who, being a poet, was not so respectful as a peer ought to have been, termed this bloated mass of unfortunate humanity, "Fum the Fourth." Leigh Hunt, who was then just twenty-nine, very vain, and very proud of being half proprietor and whole editor of the London Examiner, a weekly paper, which still maintains its existence, from the sheer vitality of that glorious old root, - had made some fun of the absurdity of a parcel of London cockneys, who had just presented to Fum the Fourth an address, in which he was called "the Adonis of England, and the first gentleman of Europe." I presume they didn't like to travel out of Europe, and call him the first gentleman of his Let me first give a sketch of his personal appearance. He was slim and tall, being in stature about six feet. Invariably dressing in | black, he looked more like an Italian noble-age, since it might have been considered a sly man than an Englishman. His face was not and sarcastic allusion to his years, which were striking; but his fine, large, dark eye lighted his over fifty. Leigh Hunt, in an editorial, said, countenance, which was eminently feminine, it was "absurd to call a fat man, who was over and invested him with a certain delicate dig- fifty, an Adonis, and no man ought to be called nity, characteristic of his nature. His voice a gentleman who had abandoned his wife." was very musical, and he toned it so admirably | Sir Vicary Gibbs, the attorney-general of that that a pleasant commonplace from his lips as- obscure reign, thereupon commenced an action sumed a point and vivacity not naturally be- against Leigh Hunt and his brother, as editors longing to the thought. He wore his hair and proprietors of the Examiner. They were quite long, and parted in the middle over his found guilty, and condemned to two years' imforehead. He had no beard, whiskers, nor prisonment, and a fine of one thousand pounds. mustache. His forehead appeared lower than The fine, of course, was easily managed by a it really was, owing to his hair growing down thousand daring liberals each paying a pound very much over it. His collar and neck-tie apiece; but the imprisonment of seven hunwere loosely worn, but there was nothing | dred and thirty days could not be so easily set tled. The British authorities could not accept seven hundred and thirty friends, each a day apiece, to divide durance vile with the lively author of Rimini. Therefore he had to endure "this enforced and total abstinence from the dissipation of freedom," as Leigh Hunt playfully termed his imprisonment. At last the day arrived when the two years could not fail to end, if there be any truth in the sequence of time. On his return to the editorial room of the Examiner, Leigh Hunt playfully announced his restoration to freedom, and said that he felt all the better for the discipline so kindly administered by his esteemed benefactor, the Prince Regent of Great Britain, Ireland, &c. He said, also playfully of course, that he was delighted to find everybody else was equally improved; for instance, the Prince Regent himself, who two years ago was fat, fifty, and a bad husband. Now, he found him thin, young, and living with his wife. The next day he had a letter from his old persecutor, the attorney-general, announcing the determination of the British government to prosecute him for another libel. Thereupon the playful Harold Skimpole wrote to Sir Vicary Gibbs, earnestly asking him to tell him what he was to do. "You placed me in jail for two years for saying that the prince was old, fat, and a bad husband; and now, when I say that he is young, thin, and a model spouse, you also threaten me with punishment. What am I to say of his Royal Highness?" The force of sarcasm triumphed, and Leigh Hunt was let alone. [TO BE CONTINUED.] BOND. BY J. W. H. ABOND, or obligation, is a writing whereby one obliges himself to pay a certain sum of money to another person named, at a time specified. A bond without condition is said to be a "simple" obligation; but generally a condition is added, that if the person bound does a particular act, the obligation shall be void; otherwise it shall remain in full force. Among the acts to insure performance of which bonds are given, may be mentioned payment of money, performance of covenants in a deed, faithful discharge of official duties. The sum of money to be paid, if the condition in a bond is not fulfilled, is termed "penalty." The principal - he who is bound to payment or nerformance is styled "obligor." O, time is like that fairy; Each moment flitting o'er us If we but watch them closely, But if we stop for musing, Or stay for idler pleasures, Before we think, before we know, Away, away, away they'll go, The moments and their treasures! THE Catholic cathedral at Notre Dame, Indiana, has the largest bell in the United States, weighing twelve thousand pounds. The largest on the continent weighs twentyeight thousand pounds, and is in the Notre Dame Cathedral. Montreal. SCENE. Platform at a School Exhibition. [Enter TOM SLOWBOY upon platform.] Slowboy. (With extravagant and awkward gestures.) Mr. Chairman and gentlemen: It is my pe-rivilege to stand before you to-night as the ex-ponent of a party, gentlemen, which is destined to make a new era in the world's history; a party, gentlemen, standing upon the platform upon which our forefathers stood; a party, gentlemen, above all trickery; the party which is to save this glorious country this mighty, this stupenduous country, which, stretching from the St. Lawrence to the Gulf, washed by the Atlantic and the Pacific, yet hangs upon the verge of ruin. "Lives there a man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself has said Sly. Louder! Slow. I'll just thank that small boy if he will preserve order. Slow. I didn't come here to be insulted. I go for free speech. Sly. So do I. Go it, Slowboy. Slow. Mr. Nickodemus Orcutt, gentlemen, is a warm, thoughtful friend of the people; not a rash man, seeking to drive the country to perdition with steamboats and locomotives, but a man anxious to do all in his power to revive the good old days of safety and sobriety; a man, gentlemen, deeply read Sly. Especially his nose. Slow. Confound you, Sly. - Thoroughly dyed Sly. Mark his whiskers. Slow. Will somebody put that boy out? Who would not turn a hair Sly. 'Cause he's bald. Slow. O, won't you catch it? A hair's Slow. (Louder.) The American eagle. Slow. O, pshaw! Look here, Sam Sly. what did you come here for? Sly. To cheer for old Nick. You promised me a dollar if I would. Slow. Confound you! can't you be quiet? Sly. (Jumping upon his seat.) What! and see the American eagle abused? No, sir; I claim the privilege, at all times and in all "This is my own, my native land?" places, of standing up for the American eagle! Gentlemen, one man, and one alone, can save He's the prey of every political spouter in the us. Need I tell you who he is? No, gentle- land. He's been lugged to the top of the men, no. Rocky Mountains, been made to roost on the Sly. Yes, gentlemen, yes; let's have his towers of Moro Castle, skewered on every liberty pole, and nailed to the wall in every Slow. Sam Sly, whose meeting is this? Slow. Sly, I'll give you another dollar to be quiet. Sly. (Resumes his seat.) All right, Slowboy; fire away. Slow. Gentlemen, Mr. Nickodemus Orcutt Slow. The Onion; no, no; the Union. Sam has such a regard for the American eagle that Sly, I've had quite enough of this. Sly. I guess we all have. he would clip its wings, that it might stay at home, and not run the risk of being sweltered |