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2 dashed awaj a, ~l along the hard smooth) „• direction of Fort Brooke 18 distantly visible at the heat • j )r L then turned to his negroes, y - jus time had come to report pro in obedience to his orders. The only a at his command, besides the one to do expected from Fort Brooke, was a canoe lying at the landing, badly damaged by a recent accident. This he determin ed to refit in all haste, and to dispatmi in pursuit of his children. Stimulating and systematizing the labors of his people, who were as willing as they were unskill ed,. he had the pleasure in less than two i ins of pronouncing the boat seaworthy. Then calling his body servant, William, a black quadroon, reared in the family, also his black-skinned carpenter, Sam, who though many years older than,the other, was far less intelligent, he gave them his instructions: “William,” said he, “I put you in charge of this boat; and, Sam, do you also listen well to what I say. Make for the island at the month of the bay, which you can see from here, marked by a clump of tall palmettoes. Beyond that clump you will find the house of Riley, the In dian, whom you know. Go first to him. Tell him what has happened, and say to him from me that if he will find and bring back my children, he may ask for any thing in my power to give. If he needs either of you to help him, do you, Sam, go; and do you, William, return, to go, if necessary, with me. Should Riley not be at home, you may leave word with his wife, while you yourselves push on as far as you judge best to learn what has be •come of the children. Another thing : if you heir anything about them from Riley or his wife, make a big smoke upon the beach. I will watch for it. And if you learn anything good, make two smokes - one on each side of the palmetto grove. And now, my good fellows, good-bye, and God bless you!” He extended to each of them a hand, which they most reverently took, falling at the same time upon their knees and saying, “Maussa, es deLord help us we’ll bring chill mi back.” "8 flowed on both sides, and for a mow or two no one could say a word. But Hi. ■ rdon, with a strong effort, command voice and said— “ Boys, I hit no doubt that you and Riley will, of yc i wn hearts, do all for me that you can. I>, • remember now as you go off, that I maiu i vou the same promise I make to Riley. Briny back my BURKE’S WEEKLY. children, and you may ask me for what ever you will.” With these words, Sam looked up into his master’s face, and with great earnest ness, replied: « Maussa, we don’t want nutten, but to bring dem chillun back. W e got ebery ting else a’ready.” l)r. Gordon kindly shook them off and saw them to the boat, in which they were soon skimming over the water, where, in a very short time, they became reduced to a speck in the distance. He then re turned to his now desolate home, ponder ing upon the change which one short hour had wrought, and whispering to himself, “It is as true of our happiness as it is of our persons, that ‘ln the midst of life we are in death.’ ” Little Cricket. A cricket lived under a crack in our hearth, As snug as a cricket could be, With all the little cricks safe in his nest, What a merry old cricket was he. “ Chirp—chirrup, Chirrup —chirp.” Oh, the cricket was full of his glee. When the sun in the morning shines bright on the floor, The cricket keeps close in his house, And when noontime comes and the weather feels warm, The cricket is still as a mouse. “ Chirp—chirrup, Chirrup —chirp.” Oh, the cricket is still as a mouse. But when lamps are all lighted and stories told, And the games for the day are o’er, And we sit by the fire and listen awhile, Then blithely he chirps from the floor. “ Come —papa, Papa —come.” Till we hear his dear step at the door. 0 dear little cricket, to sing such glad songs. Our hearth shall protect you alway, And if Bridget should chase you, with brush or with broom, We quickly will bid her to stay. “ Chirp—chirrup, Chirrup—chirp.” IN e never will drive you away. Percy’s Year of Rhymes. Bet no boy be too proud to work. Lot no boy be ashamed of a hard fist or a sun-burnt countenance. Let him be ashamed only of ignorance and sloth. Let no boy be ashamed of poverty. Let him only be ashamed of dishonesty and idleness. A young man in Paris, who want ed to drown his dog, took him in a boat and threw him overboard. While push ing the animal from the boat with his oar, he fell overboard, and would have o HMvnod Baddog held him up till assist mice dime, ty . ■.*** THE LITTLE WOMAN IN GREEN. A FAIRY TALE. BY MRS. THEODOSIA. FORD, fl@r"T WAS a bright, very bright afternoon, in tho tfflnik curly summer, when tho sun gladdens without burn ing; long shadows were thrown upon tho grass, while every leaf and twig quivered, as if in nflSI delight, at the fresh breeze which iW swept through the tree-tops, or at the golden light in which they were bathed. Tho village school had just been dis missed. and the children were scattering, some in groups of two or three together, some singly, in different directions, on their way home. Two little girls seemed quite in a hurry, and yet, after walking a little way to gether, they stopped, hesitated, and seemed to consult. Their names were Mary and Ellie. Two paths were before them —both led to their homes—and the subject of dis cussion seemed to be which they should choose. One, the main street, which led straight through the village, some dis tance beyond which was their father’s farm; the other, and longer way, was a narrow lane, which carried them around the village and across the open common, and then by a gradual ascent to the top of quite a high hill, which yet was culti vated to tho very top. It was quite a roundabout way, but very beautiful, and one which Ellie dearly loved, because of its beauty. She fancied that from its summit she could look abroad upon the whole wide world. Cer tainly she felt nearer heaven. The lane, then, was Elbe’s choice. The highway