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130 There’s Work Enough to Do. The black bird early leaves his nest To meet the smiling morn, And gather fragments for its nest From upland, wood and lawn. The busy bee that wings its way ’Mid sweets of varied hue, At ev’ry flower would seem to say— " There's work enough to do.” The cowslip and the spreading vine, The daisy in the grass, The snowdrop and the eglantine. Preach sermons as we pass. The ant within its cavern deep, Would bid us labor too, And writes upon its tiny heap— " There’s work enough to do.” To have a heart for those who weep, The sottish drunkard win ; To rescue all the children, deep In ignorance and sin ; To help the poor, the hungry feed, To give him coat and shoe, To see that all can write and read— “ Is work enough to do.” The time is short—the world is wide, And much Inis to be done; The wondrous earth, and all its pride, Will vanish with the sun! ’ The moments fly on lightning wing3, And life’s uncertain, too ; We’ve none to waste on foolish things— “ There’s work enough to do.” The planets, at their Maker’s will, Move onward in their cars. For Nature's wheel is never still, Progressive as the stars ! The leaves that flutter in the air, And summer breezes woo, One solemn truth to man declare — “ There’s work enough to do.” Who then can sleep when all around Is active, fresh and free ? Shall Man —creation’s lord—be found Less busy than the bee ? Our courts and alleys are the field, If men would search them through, That best the sweets of labor yield, And “work enough to do.” Written for Burke’s Weekly. MAROONER’S ISLAND ; OR, Dr. Gordon in Search of His Children. BY REV. F. R. GOULDING, Author of “ The Young Marooners.” CHAPTER XII. THOMPSON’S STORY. OTWIT lISTANDING Lr. Gordon’s efforts to an< * a PP ear cheerful, his tone of voice and oc casional absence of manner, be tokened such depression of spir its that the hearty sympathy of the men was awakened, and they y gave all their conversation a more lively turn, in the hope of cheering him. For this reason, Thomp son, whose native humor was habitually on the overflow, took the liberty of de parting from the rule laid down for their several narratives, and devoted himself rather to the amusing than the useful. As the effect of what he said depended, however, more upon his rich Irish brogue and grace of utterance than upon the BURKE’S WEEKLY. matter itself, we will not attempt to fol low him except by a brief abstract. He said he was born in Antrim, North of Ireland, so near Lough Neagh that the spray raised by westerly gales would of ten drip from the eaves and sides of his father’s cottage. lie worked at home in support of his parents until he was of age, and then he bound himself for a term of years to learn the trade of a tobacco nist; after which, he engaged as work man with an extensive snuff manufactu rer in the city of Dublin. There he ie mained for several years, succeeding well in satisfying his employer, Yonge, who was a roughly-tempered and close-fisted Yorkshireman, and also his foreman, Mc- Cafferty, a north-of-Ireland man, like himself. But at last he met with a great misfor tune. Being appointed to watch the ba king of a quantity of valuable tobacco, he allowed it to become so badly scorched as to be unfit for use. This loss was more than his passionate employer could bear with equanimity. He called Thompson all manner of abusive names, among which were “thief” and “Irish blackguard,” and finally threatened to prosecute him for robbery, and to have him sent to Botany Bay. Anger and hard words Thompson was used to, but in this case they w r ere carried so far that, under the combined influences of a sense of wrong, and of fear, he left the service, with no other warning than a polite note to his employer, in which he thanked him for the pleasant names he had seen fit to apply, and hoped he might find some other “thief” and “ Irish blackguard ” who would serve him as well. He took shipping the same day for Liv erpool, and sailed thence to America, where he found no stopping place until he reached Charleston, S. C., in which place he continued all winter, turning his hand first to one thing then to another, until the following spring, when his af fairs took another turn. About the middle of April he was much disturbed by hearing that a man from Dublin, by the name of Yonge, had ar rived in Charleston, and was making in quiries for him, saying that he had good news to communicate. It was the son of his employer—a man of the same temper with the father. Having no confidence in either father or son, and fearing to be caught in some snare, Thompson kept himself concealed for a day, then left Charleston, crossed the Ashley river in a private boat, and made his way to Savan nah, Georgia. In this act, however, he acknowledged that he had been hasty, as he had been also in his sudden departure from Dublin for in both cases there was good news awaiting him, and he had run away from it. MeCafferty, the foreman in the fac tory, was his firm friend, and had adopted measures for repairing the evils of his accident, and for providing him a better place than before. The history of the change was this: MeCafferty, in making some experiments with the scorched tobacco, had come to the conclusion that anew style of snuff could be manufactured from it, with sone pleasant peculiarities of flavor from its over-burning, which might cause it to be come a favorite in the market. lie, there fore, proposed to Yonge to unite with him in the experiment of bringing it into demand, and he exacted as conditions that he should be a sharer in the profits; that he should give name to the snuff, and that he should be allowed to choose his work men. This was agreed to the same day that Thompson left Dublin. The snuff was introduced into market with great success. The name given to it was “ The Irish Blackguard,”* and the chief workman intended for it was the unfortunate Thompson. True to his first intention, MeCafferty insisted that a certain percentage of the rapidly accumulating profits should be laid aside for his missing friend, and caus ed inquiries to be made for him in every direction. When Yonge, the junior part ner, came to America for the purpose of introducing his new style of snuff, he made every possible inquiry for Thomp son ; but in vain. The rest of the story we will give in Thompson’s own words, only modifying and Anglicizing them to suit the reader. “When I got into my friend’s boat to cross the Ashley river,” said he, “I was nearly half sick in body, and more than half sick in mind. It was enough to sick en any one, to think of being driven, by abuse, from one’s country for a little bit of carelessness, and then to be hunted and dogged for it, as I seemed to be, to the ends of the earth. I suppose this must have made me low-spirited, and part crazy-like, for sure there was never a sound man troubled with such fancies as I had that night. May be it was fevei, for I do not know from experience what that is, and people say that Charleston L a famous place for it. Please not to laugh at me; for although I now understand the whole matter, and can hardly keep h’ olll laughing at myself, it was no laughing matter then. * Snuff-takers know that the history given in cornice tion with the above name is no mere fancy.