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sentinels saved him the trouble, and told him when he reached the gate, that he must now stay with the prince, and would never be allowed to leave the castle again.

Who was better pleased than Jery? who more delighted than the prince, who now had a companion, who seemed willing to share his lot with pleasure, and forget flock, hone, and former friends, for this new mode of life? Games, stories, songs, and the sweet melodies of the flute shortened the days, and many of them had passed before discontent and sadness came into Jery's heart. The boy, who had always been so lively before, sat now for hours in a corner, while the prince sat in another to lament the sorrow of his friend. A nameless longing had taken possession of the shepherd-boy-home-sickness—a desire for freedom robbed him of his rest. In vain he rolled about on his silken cushions; in vain he tried to be pleased with the glittering toys. Sleep fled from his bed; the toys became disgusting in his sight; the food in the golden dishes made him sick, as well as the wine in the crystal cup.

The song of the birds was tiresome; the funny chattering of the parrots he thought absurd; even his flute he would no longer touch, and when he went to the window, looked out into the blue sky, and his glance fell

fields or the


surface of the lake, tears came into his eyes. Weeping, he fled from the room; but the noise of arms at the gate reminded him that he was a prisoner in the fortress. The prince consoled him as well as he could, but he could not silence his longing for home.

It happened that the prince fell asleep one afternoon on his couch, and Jery went to the window once more to cry. Behold! he fancied he saw his flocks grazing on the other side of the lake, and his faithful dog seemed to look at him, and wagged his tail, as if he wished to call his master over to him. It went to the boy's heart, and some voice within him cried : ‘Flee, flee quickly! This is the moment, or never !! He yielded to the feeling, and hastened to the door of the room. Then he thought of his young friend : to leave him was hard. He would see him once more. He went over to his couch. The prince seemed sound asleep; but when Jery bent down to him, to listen to his breathing, he became terrified, for his heart was no longer beating, no breath heaved his breast; a sweet death had delivered him gently from his sorrows. Jery rushed into the passage to cry for help, but the court was empty, the gate of the castle was open, and the sentinels had fallen asleep from the sultry heat. The moment was favourable. One more farewell to the departed friend, a short prayer to his Father in heaven, and the shepherd-boy stole safely past the soldiers out of the castle.

With hasty steps he had soon reached the spot where the faithful dog watched the flock intrusted to his care, though his poor fare had made him lean. The lambs and their four-footed protector received their long wished-for master with the greatest joy; and full of delight to have escaped the prison, Jery commenced a merry mountainlay. But the prince no longer leaned from the window to listen, and fresh tears to his memory interrupted the shepherd's song. The fresh evening breeze, the murmuring of the lake, and the joyful advances of his flock gave him the purest delight. Once more he saluted the gray castle, in which he had spent few happy and many evil hours, and he drove his sheep across the mountain to his home.

His breast grew light, as he breathed the fragrant flowers and the pure air; and as he went through the evening landscape, glowing in rosy light, and from afar beheld the modest thatched-roof of his father's cottage, he shouted aloud with joy; and driving his flock to quicker pace by the sound of his flute, he cried : Welcome, my father's roof! welcome, valley of my home! How gladly I have left the costly palace to return to thee! Here I find no gold or silver, or precious stones; but free from bars, no longer threatened by the swords of cruel watchmen, I shall enjoy calm peace-I shall be poor but I shall be happy.'


One morning (raw it was and wet-

A foggy day in winter-time),
A woman on the road I met,

Not old, though something past her prime:
Majestic in her person, tall and straight;
And like a Roman matron's was her mien and gait.

The ancient spirit is not dead;

Old times, thought I, are breathing there;
Proud was I that my country bred

Such strength, a dignity so fair :
She begged an alms like one in poor estate;
I looked at her again, nor did my pride abate.

When from those lofty thoughts I woke,
• What is it,' said I, that you

Beneath the covert of your cloak,

Protected from this cold damp air?
She answered, soon as she the question heard,
A simple burthen, sir, a little singing-bird.'

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And, thus continuing, she said:

“I had a son, who many a day
Sailed on the seas, but he is dead;

In Denmark he was cast away : And I have travelled weary miles to see If aught that he had owned might still remain for me.

The bird and cage, they both were his :

my son's bird ; and neat and trim
He kept it: many voyages

The singing-bird had gone with him; When last he sailed, he left the bird behind; From bodings, as might be, that hung upon his mind.'

JUVENILE MECHANICS. An active clever lad in the country never need feel dull-never experience that miserable sensation of wanting something to do. The objects of attraction, , of employment, and amusement, that I have already mentioned, would be enough to prevent that; but if a lad has a turn for mechanical inventions and labours, there is another vast and inexhaustible source of pleasure open




to him. I remember, though I never was a very mechanical fellow, the pleasure I used to enjoy building my saw-mills, in making shoe-heel bricks, in watching the operations of the various village tradesmen, and in erecting our rabbit-cotes and dove-cotes. I remember, too, the delight with which I used to erect water-mills. Wherever I found a little descent-a good spout of water in the brook or the ditches—there I set down two forked sticks, got an old tin bottom, and cutting nicks all round the circumference, turned one piece one way, and the next another; thus alternating them all round, so as to form a broad surface for the water to play upon. In the centre of this mill-wheel, I then punched a hole, and putting another stick through for an axle, laid it across the two forked sticks; and the stream spouting upon it, kept it spinning and fizzing and spurting the water round gloriously. These mills I used to visit occasionally, to see that all was right; and there they were spinning away for weeks and months together.

But a really clever lad, with a mechanical turn, not only gathers present pleasure, but lays up a good deal of really valuable knowledge. The simple and patriarchal state of society in old-fashioned villages and small towns, allows him to go and see all that is going on. He watches the different artisans at their labours, and makes friends amongst them; so that he can go and hammer and saw and file to his heart's content. It is true, that more and higher kinds of mechanical operations may be seen in large towns and cities, but then a boy has rarely the same easy access to them, nor can he be suffered to go amongst the workmen with the same confidence that he will be welcome, and that he will not be in the way of evil communication.

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