there is no doubt they will succeed in bringing it up." "She is right," resounded from a number of voices, and from mine among the rest; and in an instant, half-adozen people ran to fetch the divers.

Those who remained, exerted themselves as well as they could to solace the poor porter. One brought him a small glass of liqueur; another, a little brandy ; a third, some eau de Cologne; and four or five presented the grand specific, sugar and water. The little violet girl had been before all the rest in administering a cordial; and, perhaps, hers was the most efficacious-a glass of pure water, which she held to his trembling lips, and made him swallow. "Drink," she cried, "drink it up, it will do you good."

Whether it was the water, or the kind and sympathetic manner with which it was offered, that relieved him, I know not, but certainly one of the two had its effect, for his looks grew less wild; burst into a passionate fit of weeping, and, by degrees, he became composed enough to make his acknowledgments to the spectators, who had shewn such interest in his misfortune.

The divers soon came, and one of them descended without loss of time. Never did I witness such an intense anxiety as the search excited; if the fate of every one present had hung upon the success, they could not have testified greater interest in it. He soon re-appeared, bringing up—not the bag of silver, but a small iron box. It was instantly broken open, and found to be full of twenty-franc pieces in gold; they were quickly counted, and found to amount to nearly twelve thousand francs; about four hundred and fifty pounds sterling. There were three divers, who, overjoyed at their good fortune, speedily divided the prize among themselves; and di

rectly afterwards another descended in search of the porter's bag.

This time he returned with it in triumph. The poor fellow could scarcely speak when it was put into his hands. On coming to himself, he cried with vehemence, "God reward you!" you know not what good you have done— I am the father of five children. I was formerly in good circumstances, but a series of misfortunes reduced me to the greatest distress. All that I had left was an irreproachable character, and that procured me my present situation; I have had it but a week. To-day I should, without your help, have lost it. help, have lost it. My wife, my children, would have been exposed to all the horrors of want; they would have been deprived of a husband and a father; for never, no never, could I have survived the ruin I had brought upon them! It is you who have saved us all; God will reward you, he alone can.”

While he thus spoke, he rummaged in his pockets, and drew out some francs. "This is all I have, 'tis very little; but tell me where you live, and to-morrow"Not a farthing," interrupted they, with one voice; and one of them added, "Stop a bit, let me talk to my comrades." They stepped aside for a moment; I followed them with my eyes, and saw that they listened to their companion with emotion. "We are all of a mind," said he, returning with them. "Yes, my friend, if we have been serviceable to you, you also have been the cause of our good fortune; it seems to me that we ought to share with you what God has sent us through your means. My companions think so too, and we are going to divide it into four equal shares."

The porter would have remonstrated, but his voice was drowned by the acclamations of the spectators. "Gene

rous fellows!"-" Much good may it do you!"-" The same luck to you," resounded from every mouth. There was not one present but seemed as happy as if he or she were about to participate in the contents of the box. The money was divided, and, in spite of his excuses, the porter was forced to take his share.

The generous divers went their way; the crowd began to disperse; but the porter still lingered, and I had the curiosity to remain, in order to watch his motions. He approached the little violet girl. "Ah! my dear," cried he, "what do I not owe you! but for you it had been all over with me. My wife, my little ones, must thank you." "Ma foi! it is not worth mentioning. Would you have had me stand by and see you drown yourself!" "But your courage, your strength! could one have expected it from so young a girl!" "Ah! there is no want of strength where there is good will." "And nobody ever had more of that. Give me six of your bouquets, my dear; my children are so fond of violots, and never have they prized any as they will do these.”

She twisted a bit of thread round six of her fairy nosegays, and presented them to him. He deposited them carefully in his bosom, and slipped something into her hand; then, without waiting to hear the acknowledgements which she began to pour forth, took to his heels as if his bag had been made of feathers.

The girl looked after him with pleasure sparkling in her eyes. " What will you take for the rest of your nosegays?" said I, going up to her. "Whatever you please to give me," cried she, with vivacity; "for that good man's money will burn my pocket till I get home to give it to my mother. Oh! how glad will she be to have all that, and still more so when she knows why it has been

given me." The reader will easily believe that my purchase was speedily made; the good girl's purse was something the heavier for it; and I had the pleasure of thinking, that I contributed, in a small degree, to reward the goodness of heart which she had so unequivocally displayed. She hastened home with her little treasure, and I returned to my lodging to put my violets into water, promising myself, as I did so, to be a frequent customer to the little nosegay girl of the Pont Neuf.

WITH a heart light and careless I dance in the sun,
When he slants o'er the wave, and the vintage is done-
No maiden so merry as I ;

I rise with the dawn, and I sing through the day
The deeds of the brave, who, in foray or fray,
Reap'd the harvest of glory-I glow till my lay
Seems to lift my rapt soul to the sky!

With my dulcimer, viol, or light tambourine,
My dear native melodies float o'er the green,
And waken the echoes around ;-

The lark stops his note as he soars to the sun;
The herds from their pastures disportingly run;
Nature's impulses all seem to merge into one

At the sweet modulations of sound.

Ye gentles of Provence, come list to my lay;
I've a dirge for the grave, a romance for the gay,
Which their homage has frequently won!

Renown'd in my own native valleys of song,

Like the syrens of old I have charm'd the dull throng,
And you will I charm, if you listen, ere long-
Well, what think you?-my ditty is done!

THE FAIRY SPELL.

A LEGEND. BY MRS. CRAWFORD.

THE crystal halls in fairy-land
With golden lamps were shining,
And garlands, trained by elfin hand,
Round roof and pillar twining:
The music of a thousand strings

From harps unseen was sounding, And sprites, with tiny silver wings, Like motes in sunbeams bounding.

The blue-eyed queen of fairy-land,
With amber tresses flowing,
Sate circled by her courtier band,
Bright smiles on all bestowing:
But there was one amid her train,
A stranger youth, attending;
No fairy he, but mortal swain,

In irksome homage bending.

Titania by a moonlight lake

Had marked his comely features; And fairies, like us mortals, take Strange fancies to male creatures. She stole upon his hour of sleep,

And wove her spells around him; And, while in slumber soft and deep, With twisted lilies bound him.

They bore him off,-her wanton elves; And friends and parents mourning Still wept, and wondered to themselves What marr'd the boy's returning : And oft, of all his sisters, she

His favourite sister-Mary,

Sate weeping 'neath the beechen tree, The haunt of Woodland Fairy.