friendship; and I was let into the secret at once. The monkey had seen the steward take out this jar, and put some of its contents on the table, after dinner,―he had, also, generally come in for a small share. Finding every body occupied on deck (and most probably the cupboard door left open), Jack had commenced an attack upon the jar; but the covering resisted his efforts. Tom, seeing the manner in which he was occupied, entered into a treaty-offensive and defensive (how they managed it must remain between themselves), and forced out the obstruction that parted their smacking lips from the savoury morsels. They had indulged pretty freely; and this was the only time they ever agreed.

Poor Jack died soon after his arrival in England, from eating some poisonous berries that grew in the shrubbery in front of my little cottage, at no great distance from London; and there he lies, buried beneath the baneful tree that caused his death.

My dear little Tom is still alive; and God grant he may long live, to remember his trip to the West Indies; and, above all, the monkey,-for the mark of Jack's teeth upon his left hand, he will most probably carry with him to the grave.

THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD.

A new Version.

BY J. H. WIFFEN, ESQ.

"Our childhood's piteous marvel, 'tis to be
Most piously believed!"

I.

DEAR children! ye whose gentle eyen
With tears for others' sufferings swell;
Awhile your pleasant sports resign,
And listen to the tale I tell.
In Norfolk once a knight of worth,
And lady, constant, fair and true,
Lived rich, and happy in the birth
Of two sweet infants, good like you.

II.

The one grew up a comely boy,
With sparkling eye and rosy cheek,
And one, her mother's younger joy,
A girl of beauty, mild and meek.

Published by Longman, Rees, Orine, Brown & Green. Nov 1828.

But sickness smote their parents sore,

And on their dying pillows laid, They kissed those cherubs o'er and o'er, And to their mourning uncle said:

III.

"Our pretty babes we leave behind; Their guide and guardian thou must be ; And oh, as thou to them art kind,

May heaven's just Judge be kind to thee! To each five hundred pounds in gold

We leave, with interest to be paid, When he is twenty summers old, And asked in marriage is the maid.

IV.

"Yet if, ere this the darlings die, Thine be the gold;-but ah, be sure Thou treat the sweet ones tenderly,

And keep their stainless spirits pure!" "Nay!" said the uncle, "let the tear I drop, my fond affection shew:

If e'er I wrong your orphans dear,

God plague me with his worst of woe!"