this?'

'Will your Highness step to the window?' said the soldier respectfully.
'Do you see the number of birds flying out of the woods to the south?'

'I see them--but what then?' said the Duke.

'What then?' repeated the gipsy, looking full at the Archduke; 'do not
birds sleep at night as well as men? They would not be on the wing if
there was peace in the forest. The enemy is certainly coming through the
woods, and that is what has scared the birds.'

So the Archduke gave orders to strengthen the outposts and to rouse the
camp, and when the foe arrived, they found--not a sleeping camp, as they
had expected, but an enemy well prepared to give them a warm welcome.

The camp had been saved by the intelligence of the gipsy soldier.

'FIRE!'

Calm and still the waves are lapping,
Silvered by the moon's pale light,
As the noble ship glides onward
In the silence of the night;
While the exile, home returning,
Dreaming of his heart's desire,
Starts from slumber, rudely wakened
By the dreadful cry of 'Fire!'

In the smoke and din and turmoil,
There the captain takes his stand;
'First the women and the children,'
Clearly rings his stern command.
Boats are manned, and strong arms rowing,
Bring them safely to the shore,
Where kind hands are stretched to greet them,
Safe from danger, home once more!

MARVELS OF MAN'S MAKING.

VIII--THE FORTH BRIDGE.

[Illustration]

The mouth of the Forth has very nearly bitten Scotland in two, and
anybody who wishes to travel from Edinburgh to Dunfermline would have to
go a long way round if they objected to crossing the river. Formerly a
great many people _did_ object to this, because they knew that, although
the voyage was only about a short mile, the great billows from the North
Sea would meet them before it was over, and give them a very unpleasant
time. So everybody who had anything to do with the Forth was willing
that it should be spanned by a reliable bridge, and plans for carrying
this into effect were frequently proposed. Indeed, arrangements were
almost completed in 1879 for building a huge suspension bridge from
shore to shore. The drawings were made, the estimates prepared, and the
spades and trowels even beginning to work on the foundations, when, one
sad December night, a terrible gale arose. All through the hours of
darkness it roared and shrieked across the British Isles, working havoc
upon sea a