TO A CHILD ON HIS BIRTH-DAY. BY MRS. HEMANS. I. WHERE sucks the bee now? summer is flying, Violets are gone from the grassy dell, With the cowslip-cups, where the fairies dwell; II. For love bids it welcome, the love which hath smiled Ever around thee, my gentle child! Watching thy footsteps and guarding thy bed, And pouring out joy on thy sunny head. Roses may vanish, but this will stay— Happy and bright is thy natal-day! THE NEW CHILDREN IN THE WOOD. An Hungarian Story. BY THE AUTHOR OF THE LETTRE DE CACHET.' ALTHOUGH in our own richly cultivated and populous island, the various races of ferocious beasts have been totally exterminated, yet in many countries of Europe, where vast forests and inaccessible mountains afford them a secure refuge, wolves, and bears, and wild-boars, still abound -threaten the unwary traveller, and render their haunts formidable to the peasants of the neighbourhood. During the winter months, when deep and prolonged snows tend to deprive the animals of their ordinary food, they are frequently known to descend into the villages in quest of prey; just as in England, foxes will steal by night into a farm-yard, and carry off the pride of the hen-roost in their treacherous paws. But the wild beasts of the forests of which I am speaking, those, for instance, of Poland, Russia, Hungary, or even Germany, are too powerful and too ferocious, to content themselves with such ignoble prizes and although they derive their usual sustenance from their weaker fellows of the woods; from the roebuck and the wild deer, the hare or the squirrel; wolves and bears will readily attack a man, or springing upon some poor child at its solitary play, will carry off its mangled body to the recesses of the forest. Now the princes of those countries are generally at great pains to destroy such ravenous beasts; and in order to secure their subjects from the injuries arising from their predatory instincts, they attack the woods known to be infested by them, with packs of strong and fierce dogs; having previously stationed bands of armed men round the outskirts, to destroy them as they seek safety in flight. Besides these destructive hunts, they take a further measure of security, by erecting lodges at certain distances in the woods; which are inhabited by forstineisters, or forest-masters, whose business is partly to inspect the growth and felling of the timber, and partly to keep their respective grounds free from all beasts of prey, and all reptiles injurious to the game. Now these forest-masters are usually selected for their strength, their courage, and their presence of mind; for in the lonely and perilous life they lead, such qualities are absolutely essential. Not only are they forced to brave all the vicissitudes of the weather the storms, and snows, and floods without neighbours to cheer and assist them; but during the winter nights, they hear the long howl of the wolf baying beside their little fold; and perhaps wake in the morning, to find the adjacent corn fields trampled, and routed up by the destructive snouts of the wild boars. In one of the extensive forests of Hungary, not very far from the gold-mines of Kremnitz, there stands, close upon the edge of the wood, one of the prettiest of these lodges. It is a low building, formed of a mixture of mud and lime; but it is so neatly thatched with reeds, and so carefully whitened, that it has a cheerful appearance, peeping from out the dark shadows of the pine trees. There is no little garden, indeed, contained within its paling, as you find round the cottages of England; and no neat inclosure or stack-yard, as may be seen in those of the Hungarian villages; but it is probable, that both the one and the other would have suffered from the attacks of the beasts, which are said to prowl in its neighbourhood. But although so destitute of external comforts |