an' I never went agen.

"I kep' the skin o' the poor baste, Sir: that's 'e on my cap."

When the planter had fairly finished his tale, it was a little
while before I could teach my eyes to see the things about me in
their places. The slow-going sail, outside, I at first saw as the
schooner that brought away the lost man from the Ice; the green
of the earth would not, at first, show itself through the white
with which the fancy covered it; and at first I could not quite
feel that the ground was fast under my feet. I even mistook one
of my own men (the sight of whom was to warn me that I was wanted
elsewhere) for one of the crew of the schooner Sparrow of a generation
ago.

I got the tale and its scene gathered away, presently, inside my
mind, and shook myself into a present association with surrounding
things, and took my leave. I went away the more gratified that I
had a chance of lifting my cap to a matron, dark-haired and comely
(who, I was sure, at a glance, had once been the maiden of Benjie
Westham's "troth-plight"), and receiving a handsome courtesy in
return.

THE INVISIBLE PRINCESS.

BY FRANCIS O'CONNOR.

I could be "as tedious as a king," in analyzing those chivalrous
instincts of masculine youth that lured me from college at nineteen,
and away over the watery deserts of the sea; and, like Dogberry,
"I could find in my heart to bestow it all of your worships." But
since, like the auditor of that worthy, you do not want it, I will
pass over the embarkation, which was tedious, over the sea-sickness,
which was more tedious, over the home-sickness, over the monotonous
duties assigned me, and the unvarying prospect of sea and sky, all so
tedious that I grew as morose after a time as a travelling Englishman.
Neither was coasting, with restricted liberty and much toil, amongst
people whose language I could not speak, quite all that my fancy
painted it,--although Genoa, Venice, the Bay of Naples,--crimsoned by
Vesuvius, and canopied by an Italian sky,--and the storied scenes
of Greece, all rich in beauties and historic associations, repaid
many discomforts at the time and remain to me forever as treasures
of memory the more precious for being dearly bought. But these,
with the pleasures and displeasures of Constantinople,--the limit
of our voyage,--I will pass over, to the midsummer eve when, with
all the arrangements for our return voyage completed, we swung
slowly out of the northern eddy of the Go