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Casin. “The Sultan may take my life if he chooses, and better so, than lose my peace of mind for ever.”

Casim was bid to wait, and Abal went forth to report to the Sultan how this scheme for finding out the Brahmin secrets had failed, but the youth was brave in heart, noble in mind, and worthy of any trust.

Akbar heard the tale, and could hardly believe that a poor boy of fourteen years was able to judge so clearly, and act with the calm sense and courage of a


Casim was sent for, and trembled to think that his hour was come for a great trial, and he prayed for strength to bear a prison, and even pain, should that be his fate, to make him confess.

He bent before Akbar, and waited for his sentence.

"Rise, Casim," said the Sultan, “and fear nothing ; you have done well to speak the truth and keep faith with all who have trusted you."

Casim looked up, hardly able to believe the words which fell upon his ears. He kissed the hand of Abal now held out to him, and the teaching of Keidar came back to his mind.

"To thine own heart be true;
And it shall follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man."

From this time Casim was kept in the employ of the Sultan, and in after years rose to high rank in the empire. His own father was brought to Agra, and lived in honour and comfort, while the good Keidar also rejoiced in the success of his pupil, and his last hours were watched and soothed by the loving son of

his old age.




You cannot pay


money The million sons of toil The sailor on the ocean,

The peasant on the soil, The labourer in the quarry,

The hewer of the coal; Your money pays the hand,

But it cannot pay the soul.

You gaze on the cathedral,

Whose turrets meet the sky ;Remember the foundations

That in earth and darkness lie; For, were not those foundations

So darkly resting there, Yon towers could never soar

So proudly in the air.

The workshop must be crowded

That the palace may be bright; If the ploughman did not plough,

Then the poet could not write. Then let


toil be hallow'd, That man performs for man, And have its share of honour

As part of one great plan, See, light darts down from heaven, And enters where it

may ; The eyes of all earth's people

Are cheer'd with one bright day. And let the mind's true sunshine

Be spread o'er earth as free, And fill the souls of men

As the waters fill the sea.



EDWARD JESSE. Few facts and circumstances in natural history are more pleasing, than those which illustrate the attachment that animals show to each other, or to those of the human race who are kind to them.

Every sportsman knows that the common woodpigeon (the ringdove) is one of the shiest birds we have; and so wild, that it is very difficult indeed to get within shot of it. This wild bird, however, has been known to lay aside its usual habits. In the spring of 1839, some village boys brought two young woodpigeons taken from the nest to the parsonage house of a clergyman in Gloucestershire, from whom I received the following anecdote. “ They were bought from the boys merely to save their lives, and sent to an old woman near the parsonage to be bred up. She took great care of them, feeding them with peas, of which they are very fond. One of them died, but the other grew up, and was a fine bird. Its wings had not been cut; and as soon as it could fly, it was set at liberty. Such, however, was its recollection of the kindness it had received, that it would never quite leave the place. It would fly to great distances, and even associate with others of its own kind; but it never failed to come to the house twice a day to be fed. The peas were placed for it in the kitchen window. If the window was shut, it would tap with its beak till it was opened, then come in, eat its meal, and fly off again. If by any accident it could not then gain admittance, it would wait somewhere near, till the cook came out, when it would pitch on her shoulder, and go with her into the kitchen. What made this more extraordinary was, that the cook had not bred the bird up, and the old woman's cottage was at a little distance ; but as she had no peas left, it came to the parsonage to be fed.

This went on for some time, but the poor bird,

It was

having lost its fear of man, was exposed to constant danger from those who did not know it. It experienced the fate of most pets. A stranger saw it quietly sitting on a tree, and shot it, to the great regret of all its former friends."

One cold frosty spring morning, a lamb, apparently dead, was brought into the kitchen of a gentleman in Nottinghamshire by his farming man. On being placed near the fire it revived, and eventually lived, and became a great pet in the family. It had the run of the house ; took its walks with any of the members of the family; and, if a visit was paid, it would remain very quietly at the door till it was over. gentle and amiable, with one exception; it was of so jealous a disposition, that it could never tolerate any mark of favour shown to any other fourfooted creature; an instance of which I will give in the words of my correspondent :

“We had a remarkably ugly, half-starved, pointerdog sent to us. He had a propensity to run away, and therefore was kept tied up. He was so ill-favoured, and so awkward and disagreeable in his habits and manners, that he was universally disliked, and, I fear, neglected. There was one beloved one of our family, who was always the friend of the friendless.

The same kind and generous feeling which led her to seek out misery and relieve it, prompted her to notice this forlorn, neglected animal. She would carry him food, undo his chain, and run up and down the green with him till she was tired, and would then sit down upon the grass, out of breath and weary. This was the time for the pet lamb to show his jealousy. He would run at them with his head, try to trample on them, and never rest till the dog was tied up again, when he appeared perfectly satisfied.

“When the lamb was grown up, circumstances obliged us to change our residence. In removing to another house, the pet was left behind, under the care of a woman who had charge of the house. On missing


its old friends, it went everywhere in search of them, and stood before the doors of the rooms in which it had been in the habit of finding us. It bleated most piteously; and at last went upstairs, and laid itself down at my bed-room door, as it had been accustomed to do before I was up in the morning. When the door was opened and it saw the empty room, it renewed its lamentations, and this it continued to do all the day. It ate nothing, and did nothing but moan and cry. Sometimes it would run about, as if a sudden thought had struck it, and a new hope had sprung up; and when it found it was a vain hope, and that it could not find us, it refused all food. Its bleatings were fainter and fainter,--it looked ill, -its eyes grew dim, --and soon afterwards it died.”'

Affection will, indeed, overcome the strongest impulses of nature in als Thus a tame doe has been known to swim a river, in order to follow a person who has treated it with kindness. And there are numerous instances, besides the one already related, of animals having refused food, and dying, when the hand which had fed and caressed them was no. longer to be met with.

An Arabian horse was sent in 1841 to Her Majesty, and was safely left at the royal stables by a man who had the charge of it. After delivering up the horse, he set off for Liverpool, in order to return to his own country. From the moment, however, of his departure, the horse refused to eat, and showed every symptom of misery. The cause of this was soon suspected, and the man was sent for from Liverpool. On his arriving at the mews, the poor animal showed the utmost joy and affection, and soon began to feed as usual. The care and kindness of the man

was thus repaid by the noble animal with gratitude and love.

A ship recently foundered ir a gale of wind, near Liverpool, and every soul perished. I have been

I assured that a Newfoundland dog was seen swimming near the place where the ship was lost, and at last came

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