er-beaten; and his dress showed him to be a tiller
and worker of the soil. It was the aged and faithful gardener of Lord
Mount-Edgecumbe.

"You remember me?" cried the genial American, grasping the honest
servant by the hand.

The gardener's eyes were alight with pleasure.

"You are the feller who jumped over the hedge--many years ago--when
the sea-dogs were hot upon your trail."

Joshua Barney chuckled.

"The same," said he. "And here is a purse of gold to reward my kind
and worthy helpmeet."

So saying, he placed a heavy, chamois bag of glittering eagles into
the trembling hands of the ancient retainer.

THE DERELICT

Unmoored, unmanned, unheeded on the deep--
Tossed by the restless billow and the breeze,
It drifts o'er sultry leagues of tropic seas.
Where long Pacific surges swell and sweep,
When pale-faced stars their silent watches keep,
From their far rhythmic spheres, the Pleiades,
In calm beatitude and tranquil ease,
Smile sweetly down upon its cradled sleep.
Erewhile, with anchor housed and sails unfurled,
We saw the stout ship breast the open main,
To round the stormy Cape, and span the World,
In search of ventures which betoken gain.
To-day, somewhere, on some far sea we know
Her battered hulk is heaving to and fro.

ROBERT SURCOUF

THE "SEA HOUND" FROM ST. MALO

(1773-1827)

"If you would be known never to have done anything,
never do it."--EMERSON.

ROBERT SURCOUF

THE "SEA HOUND" FROM ST. MALO

(1773-1827)

_Parlez-vous Francais?_ Yes, Monsieur,
I can speak like a native,--sure.
Then, take off your cap to the lilies of France,
Throw it up high, and hasten the dance.
For "Bobbie" Surcouf has just come to town,
_Tenez!_ He's worthy of wearing a crown.

It was a sweltering, hot day in July and the good ship _Aurora_ swung
lazily in the torpid waters of the Indian Ocean. Her decks fairly
sizzled in the sun, and her sails flopped like huge planks of wood.
She was becalmed on a sheet of molten brass.

"I can't stand this any longer," said a young fellow with black hair
and swarthy skin. "I'm going overboard."

From his voice it was easy to see he was a Frenchman.

Hastily stripping himself, he went to the gangway, and standing upon
the steps, took a header into the oily brine. He did not come up.

"Sacre nom de Dieu!" cried a sailor. "Young Surcouf be no risen. Ah!
He ha