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them. I shouted to them, till my voice, hollow and broken, dwindled into a feeble whisper. The foremost of them was now within a mile of me. I could see men thronging the decks, and methought even at that distance I could distinguish them, all with their eyes fixed on me, and some surveying me through glasses. But they did not deviate from their course--they seemed passing me; I tore the garments from my back, and waved them in the air. They passed on in their course. The second came, and the third_all_all_they passed me, and replied not to my frantic signals. The seventh and last, the convoy of the squadron, now appeared. The starry flag of my country fluttered from her peak. My gestures and cries were now like those of a madman. I flung my neckcloth high in the air ; and the wind swept it from me into the sea.

But they saw it—they saw it! They fired a gun; and I looked for them to lay to. I watched for the launching of the boat. I deceived myself. It was a signal for the squadron to vary their course ; and squadron and convoy soon vanished from my eyes.

I swooned, and revived to curse my fate and act the madman. The sun was setting. I crawled to a brink of the ice, fully resolved to throw myself into the sea. A dark object presented itself to my eyes, lying immediately under the island, and night had not so far advanced, as to prevent me from recognising in this singular apparition, a wreck, water-logged and without masts, rolling heavily in the sea. Something moved upon the stern. O heaven ! was it a human being—one like myself, spared to be mocked as I had been ?-I endeavoured to call aloud, but my previous exertions had left me voiceless. I presented myself on the cliff, and this miserable creature now appeared to me a dog, which, seeing me, set up a loud howl. It was not the plaintive cry we so often

hear uttered by this animal; not the animated yelp of recognition : no-hunger had changed its nature, as it had changed mine-it was the howl of a famished fiend, the scream of a beast of prey. This also disappeared, and night was again upon the ocean. The morning came : I cared not for it.

The sun was melting my island under me, and must soon mingle it with the waters : I cared not for that. Days passed ; I forgot to count them. I was resigned to my fate ; the pangs of hunger were now unfelt. I was happy, for I knew I was dying : but death came slowly, my constitution resisted him. I lay in a horrid stupor.

From this state I was roused by a human voice-yes, many voices shouting and calling aloud. I crawled from my cave-I rose feebly to my feet. A ship with her sails backed, lay a few furlongs to windward of me. They had descried my handkerchief, which I had hung upon a branch of the pine, and stuck in one of the most elevated parts of the island.

They saw me, and shouted cheeringly and triumphantly. They put out a boat, which approached the ice : but its sharp and upright sides rendered it impossible for them to land on it. I succeeded in crawling to a part of the berg, where it inclined shelvingly to the water, and as a last effort, slid myself down into the sea.

I was taken up, and found myself fostered among the rude hut kind-hearted tars of my own country.

THE PHILOSOPHY OF WHIST.

BY C. W. THOMSON.

THE road of life is but a game,
Where some a thirst for power and fame,

And some for pleasure feel-
But every player does not win,
Although he fairly may begin,
And make a proper

deal.

Some men assume the part of trade,
Some turn the soil with active spade,

While some to wealth incline,
And making into earth their way,
Bring up, before the light of day,

The diamond of the mine.

In clubs some take an active part-
While some the dictates of the heart
With
eager
zeal

pursue;
And, giv'n to wine, their ruin prove-
Or, trusting else in faithless love,

Their disappointment rue.

All have their different parts assign'd, And ranks throughout the world we find,

'Mid people red and black, Each on the one below him leansSome rise aloft to Kings and Queens,

Some sink to humble Jack.

But whether stationed high or low,
He who his honest heart can know

Free from reproving thumps,
E’en though he own nor house, nor lands,
That man in native glory stands,

The very ace of trumps.

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Some men will shuffle through their day,
Unmindful how their partners play ;

Unmoved they seem to stand,
And throw their cards with a most bold
And tranquil face, although they hold

A miserable hand.

The daring spirits take the lead,
While those that in the game succeed,

,
Seem bound to follow suit,
Such play the very deuce at last,
Their fortune, character they blast,
And
reap

the bitter fruit.

How oft alas! it is the fate
Of jarring comrades, wise too late,

To play a luckless club,
And sadly finding out at last,
The time for meditation past,

A heart had gained the rub.

By honour some their fortunes win,
And some by trick, nor deem it sin

To profit as they may-
But time will oft the wretch expose
To merited contempt, who chose

Dishonourable play.

'Tis only he, who, void of guile, Knows that he has a right to smile,

And tells his heart the same'Tis only he, when Fate shall close His pack of chequered joys and woes,

Has fairly won the game.

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