same who had set up the iron pales outside the castle, and with his own hands had placed upon them the heads of the four hundred vanquished champions. A horse and a strong lance were given to each; they rode away to take distance for their career, and hurled themselves against each other. At the first shock, their lances flew into splinters, and their saddlegirths burst. Both sprang up to renew the fight on foot. Their arms rang under their formidable blows, their shields flashed fire, and for two whole hours the victory was doubtful. But Gauvain redoubled his energy, and let fall upon the head of his adversary such a terrible blow, that, cleaving his helmet to the visor, it brought him reeling to the ground. This was the end of him: for he must have expected instant death if he had not confessed himself vanquished, and already the attendants began to unlace his helmet. But he surrendered his sword, and asked for life. From this moment all opposition was over. The victor had a right to the bridle; it could not be refused. There remained only the hope of enticing him to give it up willingly; and this was the manner in which they trusted to succeed.

The dwarf presented himself, and saluting the victorious knight respectfully, invited him, on the part of his mistress, to sup with her. She received him, adorned with all the attractions which art can add to beauty, and sitting upon a sumptuous couch,* whose silver pillars sustained a pavilion decorated with embroidery and precious stones. The lady placed him at her side, and during the supper used the same plate with him.

After some flattering reproaches of the bravery which had succeeded in depriving her of all means of resistance, she confessed to him that she was the sister of the maiden with the mule, and that she herself had taken the bridle, "But,” she said, "if you will renounce your rights as victor, if you will remain with me, and devote to my service that invincible arm whose prowess I have just proved, this castle, and thirty-nine others yet more magnificent, shall be yours, with all their wealth; and she who begs you to accept them will feel honored by becoming herself the prize of the victor."

Gauvain was nothing moved by these seductive offers. He persisted in exacting the bridle which he had undertaken to obtain; and when he had received it, he departed on his mule amid the joyful shouts of a crowd of people, who, to his great surprise, crowded around him. These were the inhabitants of the castle, who, confined till now in their apartments by the tyranny of their mistress, could not leave them without being instantly devoured by her lions, and who, freed at last, came to kiss the hand of their liberator.

Upon his return to Carduel, the knight was received by the maiden with those transports of joy and gratitude which were due to such a service. She embraced him a hundred times, and confessed that a hero who had done so much for her, deserved far more than such a trifling recompense. But she prepared instantly for her departure. In vain did King Arthur and the queen beg her to stay until the festival was over; nothing could retain her. She took leave of all, mounted her mule, and disappeared.

I

SAFE

AFELY arrived in Texas, after a week's rest, I entered upon my daily duties. Ye who have ever lived in cities, and been accustomed to the comfortable, and often luxurious houses devoted to education, would smile, perchance laugh outright, at the rough log cabin where I teach. It is pleasantly located in a grove of oak-trees, whose shade would be agreeable, were it not infested by legions of gnats, whose bite for venom and violence would do credit to larger insects. It has one door, and a window without sash or glass, but there is no lack of ventilation, the spaces between the logs admitting the pure air in larger quantities than desired. With a brave heart I crossed the threshold, and rang a little bell as a signal for the scholars to assemble. They came with a whoop and halloo, twenty-five in number. "Is it books, mem?" they shouted. "It is the school hour," I replied, and bade them be seated, which they reluctantly did, crowding close to "the new teacher," some of the boldest girls fingering my dress, and asking the price of my "calicur." Others plucked the artificial flowers from my bonnet, and arranged them into bouquets for themselves. Just as I had succeeded in establishing some degree of order, down dropped a dozen or two of wasps, from a nest in the upper part of the roof, which sent the children and myself out of doors for safety. The wasps not finding any one to molest, soon flew away, and we returned to our places. In taking down the names of my little flock, I was struck with the love of the high sounding and romantic, manifested by the parents. Cleopatra Alethea, Phedora Constantia, Ariminthea Azilian, are a few specimens of their extraordinary names. A few of the interesting group could read. Some who knew the letters by sight could not call them by name.

I had just commenced a lecture upon the duties of scholars, when I saw all eyes again directed to the roof. On glancing upward, what was my consternation at beholding an enormously long snake, coiling and uncoiling himself with the utmost sang-froid, and gazing with a twinkle in the corner of his eye, on the scene below, as if much amused at the fear we manifested. Flight was our only alternative; and setting the example, I was followed by my twenty-five pupils, leaving his snakeship and the nest of young wasps undisputed monarchs of the building. Sambo just then appearing

with the waiter on his head, containing our noonday meal, his services were soon engaged to rout the disturbers of our literary labors; which was accomplished by fastening burning cotton to the end of a long pole, and carrying the war to the enemy's camp. The children opened their tin buckets, containing the neverfailing corn bread and bacon, and having quenched their thirst at the pure spring near, were off at their plays. I listened. A party of them were imitating the services at a camp-meeting, and their shouts, groans and amens, made the primeval forest echo; a portion were all excitement in a combat with lizards and wasps. Some had strayed off to gather a peculiar root, much used here for toothbrushes. Several of the larger girls had brought big black bottles of snuff, and seated under the oak shade were blackening their ruby lips and pearly teeth with the disgusting dust.

After an hour's relaxation, I thought to reassemble my little crowd by the ringing of the bell, but found it minus a tongue. I continued, however, to sound the recall to study. The very first little girl that approached, Cleopatra Alethea, had the missing tongue strung round her neck by her shoe-string, seemingly unconscious of any misdeed. "Please,

marm, put me in potash," she demanded. "I have none," replied I; "and why, my pretty child, do you wish to be flayed alive in potash? The child's big black eyes, looking all the larger for want of intelligence and education, stared at me, as if wondering at my stupidity; at the same moment she pointed in her spelling-book at the column commencing with the word potash. The mystery solved, I forthwith overjoyed her little heart by advancing her to the desired column. A girl of twenty came with her slate to be taught division, which I expounded clearly to my, as I supposed, attentive listener. When I had finished, and turned to explain the problem, behold, she was fast asleep. Overwhelmed with the mountain of ignorance I was expected to remove, though amused with the oddity of my situation, I strayed musingly homeward, so absorbed that I narrowly missed being stung by a tarantula in the path. The next day saw me again at my task in the log school-house, unmolested this time by reptile or insect, and anticipating a profitable eight hours' service to my charge; but alas for human expectations!

On our way to the school-room two or three bayous must be crossed; streams insignificant in a dry season, but swelling into little rivers with swift currents, after an outpouring from the cisterns above. The dark clouds, as if compelled by some minute-gun signal, gathered suddenly from the north, south, east and west, and concentrated all their weight over the very spot we filled. Soon the rain poured in such torrents as are only seen in low latitudes. In two hours the roads were invisible and impassable for any one but a genuine Texian, and such my pupils proved themselves. The frail bridges having floated away, like "the baseless fabric of a vision," no carriages or horses could be sent to convey us home. I summoned a council of war (war against the elements), and we all decided that to remain where we were, through the night, supperless and without lights or bedding, was a consummation most devoutly not to be desired. So, linking hands, for singly we could not stem the current, most of the girls, bonnetless, with their long dark hair, not floating to the breeze, but hanging in heavy draped masses around them, we essayed to reach home. During two hours we were exposed to the storm, trying every imaginable route. What a chance for the study of character! Danger there certainly was, and how was it met? Some made merry at the war of the elements, and sang snatches of songs, as, "I'm afloat," "Come, mariner, down into the deep with me." A few wept, and talked of being drowned; but all advised crossing the bayous on the phantoms of the swept away bridges. On we pressed, ankle, waist, neck deep; so long as our feet had support we pushed forward. Now for a shout! all are safely across the deep waters, and what a dripping from our wet garments! Truly, we more resembled those fictions of the poet's brain, yclept mermaids, than daughters of Eve. For once in my life, I felt like a heroine, and thought of putting on the airs of one; but when I saw how coolly my companions spoke of the dangers passed, I desisted, and merely dipped my pen in ink, to preserve a slight record of the scene.

The dwellers in green Erin believe that when one feels a cold, creeping, shivering sensation, it is a sign that some one is moving over his grave. Myriads of busy feet, with no measured tread, must be dancing over mine just at this time. The galopade, the waltz, the mazourka, the schottisch, the highland reel; all, in heterogeneous confusion, are being jumped over the one narrow strip of terra firma nature has designed as my final resting

place: or, as my home is in the far South Western wilds, perhaps the timid deer, the hungry bear, the gaunt wolf, or clumsy buffalo, are trampling down the tall waving grass over my lonely prairie grave.

Phillis, my mirror. What red eyes, encircled with a purple halo! what blue lips and pallid cheeks! and then, this mysterious tremor. My teeth beat the devil's tattoo against each other, at imminent risk to the unruly member imprisoned near them. Are the days of witchcraft returned? Is Hawthorne's old Matthew Maul come to revisit the glimpses of the moon, and mistaken me for a Pyncheon. It is strange, 'tis passing strange, but truth, we read, is stranger than fiction. "There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in

our philosophy." Chairs and tables, shovels and tongs, may be made to dance, for though they have no inclination so to do, still no objections have they against it; but that I, the belle of the prairie, should, contrary to my will, be shaking in such a fashion, is incomprehensible. Now I reflect; my head has been aching for an hour or two, and like "the times,” I am strangely out of joint, and like my piano, out of tune too. The withering blasts of an Arctic winter seem to be sweeping over me, Warmth I must have. Sunshine, fire, hot water, vapor bath, ho! to the rescue. Pile up the blankets, Ossa on Pelion. Run for the doctor and minister. If I am really bewitched, the latter is the best physician, and can pluck from me this shaking sorrow. (Enter doctor and minister breathless, with saddle-bags and hymn-book.) These two gentlemen being somewhat different from the common herd, and the very antipodes of each other, I must be a vanished scene till you have a slight sketch of them. The former looks as if built-I will not say born, for it is difficult to imagine him ever an infant, so large, massive and Gibraltar-like-to bid the grim monster defiance. His face is ruddy as the rising sun, and seems to cast a smiling light on all upon whom it beams. He is goodhumored to excess, but as rough as the coarse blanket through which his head is thrust, à la Texiaña. Be assured his house harbors no growlerie, nor with him is the wind ever other than southwest. The very creak of his shoes works a cure upon his hypochondriacal patients. It is his custom, when sent for, to remain with the person convalescing, or entirely cured, until he receives another call. I once knew him to stay three weeks at the house of a patient, who recovered in a few days, and set out on a journey, leaving

the doctor to the tender mercies of his wife, who, not being gifted with conversational powers, and knowing no way to amuse him, set him to fringing napkins and taking charge of the children, which treatment he seemed to consider a special mark of favor. The minister, as I have remarked, is his opposite in all respects; slightly built, with a mild, melancholy countenance, he looks as if sorrowing for the sins of others, for none has he of his own. Diffident to excess, he never commences conversation without a deep blush suffusing his wan features. It is only in the pulpit this painful consciousness leaves him; then, carried away by the mighty importance of the subject, his eye kindles, the deep mellow tones of his voice, combined with his prophetic fervor, penetrate all hearts, and echo long and loudly in their inmost recesses. Notwithstanding their dissimilarity in character, the physician of the spiritual and the physician of the physical nature were often together, the latter leading the way, and the former walking in his broad shadow-the one ever laughing, the other sighing. It was thus they entered my apartment. "Are you so very ill?" inquired they both in a breath. "Cæsar told us 'his missis war dying.' 999 Judge for yourselves whether the witches have been tampering with me," I exclaimed. The doctor haw, haw, hawed, in his own loud, rough way; the minister sighed sorrowfully. "You have only a chill," they said. “I am only dying, you mean, for never have I suffered more. Water, water! Open the windows; run for the fans ; off with the blankets; has my head scorched the pillow? Are my eyelashes singed? There is fire enough in this fever to dry up Red River, and burn the raft, thereby saving great expense to the government." Thus raving, I fell asleep, and awoke the next morningwell; but, thanks to the rich soil, and consequent miasma, doomed in three days again to undergo the same martyrdom. Such, gentle reader, is my first experience of a Texian chill.

The bitter oftener than the sweet is a draught we all must quaff. The chalice may be of gold, studded all over with precious gems, and wreathed with flowers, but are its contents the more palatable? Is there not a seeming mockery in the sorrow that comes to us in a gilded form? Yet why these suggestions should arise, unless upon the principle of contraries, cannot imagine; for my tale is of those whose palm gold never crossed, and whose daily bread comes from their daily toil.

The lights are shining brightly, and gleaming cheerily through the chinks in VOL. II.-11

neighbor Wade's log cabin, and forms gaily garbed are flitting by. The sight is an unusual one, for Wade is a poor, hardworking man, rising to the plough with the morning twilight, and spending his small earnings in the absolute necessities of life for his numerous family. It is no holiday. It is the busy spring-time, when, wearied with labor, they all retire early for the balmy sleep they so much need. Let us peep through the open window, and see what causes this unusual stir. Ah, see Ruth, the only daughter, bright, blue-eyed Ruth, is dressed in white. She has "snatched a grace beyond the reach of art," and almost a child as she is, with a taste in unison with her years, has adorned her sunny brown curls with wild flowers of every hue. The mother has on her best cap. Wade and his boys are dressed in their Sunday suit, home-made, it is true, but scrupulously neat and clean. The grandmother, knitting Nelly, as she is called, from always having her knitting in hand, for a wonder has laid it aside, and sits in the big arm-chair, smoothing down her capacious apron. Happier is Ruth standing there with her simple attire, her gloveless hands, without ribbons, jewelry or lace, than the royal French empress, with pearls, velvet, and diamonds. Health and contentment are her dowry, and she has them without stint. She smiles, how confidingly, on the tall athletic youth by her side, whom the minister, in his sad, solemn voice is now pronouncing hers for weal or woe. And so it has been a wedding,—and our pretty little Ruth, the idol of her parents, the pride of the neighborhood, and the darling of those many brothers, is to leave on the morrow for her new home. The morrow has come. Why are tears in the mother's eye, why falters the father's voice? Ruth is to be separated from them only a day's ride. She is married to an honest though poor man, whose strong arm will bar the door against want. They love each other

-why sadden their happiness! Can it be that shadows of future sorrow, visions of sudden death shed their funeral blight over the rich mosaic of the scene?

The bridal pair mount their horses, for carriage they have none, and set out upon their journey. Suddenly the sky becomes overcast, the lightnings flash, the thunder rolls solemnly, tall trees wave to the winds and lie uprooted in their path, and the "garnered fulness of the clouds” descends upon their devoted heads. Poor Ruth, in her thin muslin dress, without shawl or other protection from the rain, "bides the pelting of the pitiless storm." William's stern employer, though rolling in wealth, was a tyrant to his hirelings,

and bade him be at his post that night,and so they rode on. Let us not blame the newly-married man. His bride of a few hours-how could he leave her, or how could he himself remain when their mutual support depends on his retaining his place! The bayous were swam, the dangers of the road over, and they alight in the dim twilight at their own cabin ;truly a cheerless home for the drenched travellers. It consists of a solitary room, with only a bed, table, and three chairs. No cheerful fire blazes upon the mud hearth, no kind mother is there to change her wet garments, and no friend to proffer assistance. A cold chill creeps over her. She sickens. Her husband, too, complains of fever, and soon they are in a critical state. A messenger is despatched to her parents with tidings of her danger. The father reads the message in the bearer's eye, and exclaiming, "My daughter is dying," swoons away. He becomes delirious, and raves about his darling child. The mother, anxious almost to insanity, cannot desert her sick husband, even for a daughter's dying bed. The messenger returns; no mother, no father with him. And must Ruth, the loving, loved, and lovely, but recently so joyous and happy with youth, health, and the wealth of a true heart just pledged her, must she

murmur her last low words in strangers' ears ?

It is sad indeed! On a low pallet by her side lies stretched the once strong man, now feeble as an infant. The light has fled from his eye, the color from his cheek, and his parched lips utter only confused sounds. O life! O death! what mysteries are ye! The bride of last week sighing, sobbing, has passed to the spirit land. William rouses not to a sense of his loss till after her burial. He now weeps like an infant, and the scalding tears course down his pallid cheeks for hours at a time. He wanders to the grave of his buried love, and there mourns like the dove for its mate. Will he ever recover the shock? I ask, and look round at the many widowers who have consoled themselves with a second marriage. then his happiness was so fresh and new, and the loss so grievously sudden and unexpected.

But

To return to the father, he lingered three days after his daughter's departure, when the silver cord was loosed and the golden bowl was broken. The bereaved mother and heart-broken widow now moves about her lowly home, trying to repress her tears and groans for the sake of those whom God has spared her.

open files are of various forms and sizes, curved, rounded, flat, &c. They are made of steel or of hoop-iron, and by a machine which punches the holes at, the same time that it raises the teeth. The form is given to the file after the holes and teeth have been made.

Having the tools, the material must be prepared, and this is common plaster of Paris. Suppose the work projected is an erect statue, the process is as follows:A pair of irons corresponding to the bones of the legs in direction, though not necessarily in shape, must be set up on a platform, rising nearly as high as the hips, with the lower ends bent sideways in order to have a good anchorage in the plaster which is to form the base of the