d that the schooner was so heavy with the water in her that
she was in great danger of being pooped--that is, gentlemen, having a
sea break over her stern and sweep her decks. That would have been the
end of us, and not a soul would have known what had become of us, for,
you see, we had no boats to take to, they being smashed. So there was
nothing to do but to heave her to and wait, hoping that some ship might
come along and take us off. Gentlemen, it's cruel hard to work at the
pumps till your arms are numb and your back feels as if it were being
cut with a saw, and still to know that your vessel is settling under
you, and that in a short time she must go down. I tell you we cast
mighty anxious looks around the horizon every time we rose on a sea; and
we felt like cheering when we saw the smoke from your funnel down in the
west. Then came another time of anxiety before we were sure you were
coming our way, and even after that we weren't positive that you would
take us off."

"What!" exclaimed the new voyager; "is it possible that there are men so
inhuman as to leave fellow-creatures on a sinking vessel?"

"There are a few such fellows on the sea," said the Captain of the
schooner; "but I don't think any of them sail under the flag that your
Captain ran up to his peak when he saw our signal of distress."

THE SWEETMEAT AGE.

Long ago when the moon was one big pie
For all little boys to eat,
Then some of the stars were sugar-plums,
And some of them raisins sweet;

Then the glorious sun was a custard pudding
Served up in a vast blue dish;
And the whole of the sea was soda-water
Half filled with ice-cream fish;

The great round earth was a luscious peach,
The grass was the puckery fuzz--
If it doesn't seem true to all and each,
Let him believe it who does--

Then the mountain-peaks were chocolate drops,
And the icebergs Roman punch;
And the dark storm-clouds rained lemonade--
People dug up the mud for lunch.

When it hailed, the hailstones were fine popcorn,
And pulverized sugar it snowed;
And the brooks as they ran by the candy-trees
With lovely root-beer o'erflowed.

Ah! that was the time, in the long ago,
When children worked hard, tooth and tongue;
But most of them suffered from overfed stomachs,
And, somehow, they all died young.

R. H.

WINNING A WATERMELON.

Scratchbones is certainly not a very elegant nam