. . . BY the by,
speaking of volcanos: it will be remembered that in 1831 an island was
thrown up by volcanic eruption in the Mediterranean sea, off the south
coast of Sicily. It presented the form of a round hill, about one hundred
and twenty feet above the sea's level, with thick clouds of white smoke
issuing from it. As may well be imagined, it excited great wonder and
curiosity, and was visited by vast numbers of people. An Austrian, a
French and a British vessel met there at the same time. A dispute arose as
to what power the island should belong, what it should be named, etc.;
when a British sailor leaped on shore, and planted on the topmost peak the
union-jack. Nine cheers proclaimed Britannia victorious. On returning
shortly after, to take another look at their newly-acquired possession,
they found to their dismay that, like Aladdin's palace, the island had
disappeared, leaving the Mediterranean as smooth as if the magic wonder
had never reared its head! This circumstance suggested the following lines
by a correspondent:

FATHER NEPTUNE, one day, as he traversed the seas,
Much wanted a spot to recline at his ease:
For long tossed and tired by the billow's commotion,
''Tis a shame,' cried the god, 'I'm confined to the ocean.
I'll have an island!' To VULCAN he flew,
Saying, 'Help me this time, and in turn I'll help you.
To make a new island's an excellent scheme;
And I think, my dear VULCAN, we'll raise it by steam.'
'Agreed!' cried the god.
Straight to work they repair,
And throw an abundance of smoke in the air.
This mariners saw, and it did them affright;
They straightway concluded all could not be right.
'We'll to Sicily repair, and appeal to powers civil,
For certainly this is the work of the devil!'
The Austrians and French came the wonder to view:
Said Britain, in anger, 'That isle's not for you!
For us, us alone, did Britannia design it,
And, d' ye see, we'll be d----d if we ever resign it!
On that island we'll land! there our standard we'll raise!
We will there plant our jack, if the island should blaze!'

The gods, in great wrath, heard all this contention:
'Dear NEPTUNE,' said VUL., 'this has spoiled our invention.'
'It has,' said the god, 'but, I swear by my trident,
The proud sons of Britain shall never abide on 't!
It was raised for a god, and no vile worthless mortal
On that island shall dwell, to eat oysters and