and I will pass them over. After the war he returned to the States, but presently grew restless again, and turned his face towards Europe with a view to the diamond fields of Africa. At Cape Town, however, he took the fever, and when he recovered, gave up the pursuit of diamonds and for a while followed a sailor's career. Here again I will let him tell his own story :

"In 1873 I settled down in Philadelphia to a spell of work. Then I went down to Atlantic city, and in a short time got command of the Life Service there. All that snow-season I worked at an invention which I have not brought out yet-'The Boyton Adjustable Life Line,' and at my suit. When I was perfecting the latter I used to go up and down the Delaware river in it. I look with the suit on like a geography picture of an Esquimaux catching seals; and as I used to slip into the water to go down with the current everybody would put off in boats to save what they thought was a drowning man. This was powerful inconvenient. It was like a crowd worrying a dog. Ferry boats, tug boats, boats from the navy yard, boats with private people in them, all persisted at first in pelting after me, till I might as well have attempted to swim down the staircase of an hotel. "In the season of 1874 I again took charge of the Life Service at Atlantic city, and saved over forty lives. The excursionists are such all-fired fools. They rush in by train sometimes two thousand a day by the Camden and Atlantic Railway Company, and then off for a dip without a thought of the currents. Until that season there had always been a powerful heavy loss of life. Young people would trip over the sands in the morning full of life as a cardinal flower of colour, and be brought ashore in the afternoon with all the pink washed out of their dead cheeks. The season lasts from June to September; and for months I had made up my mind to have a long swim in my suit The papers wrote some spry things about what they called my novel method of committing suicide in an india-rubber duster. The English papers have pretty well dug up all that part of my little life-story. I couldn't drop on the American side, so I took the English and landed at Skibbereen. The rest of my doings I may say are almost public property. The next time I cross the Channel in the Boyton LifeDress I shall start from Cape Grinez. But I had better pull up slick. I have had a powerful long talk myself, and have cleared out a pretty considerable stock of third vowels."

My readers will think that Captain Boyton has wasted no time in amassing these experiences of hard and active life in America, Europe, and Africa, when I mention the fact that he is not more than twenty-seven years of age.

THE PEEPSHOW;

OR, THE OLD THEOLOGY AND THE NEW.

BY ROBERT BUCHANAN.

As thro' the Fair of Vanity I trod,

I heard one calling in the name of God,
And turning I beheld a wan-eyed wight,
Clad in a garment that had once been bright,
Who while a few pale children gathered round
Did plant his faded Peepshow on the ground.
Trembling the children peep'd; and lingering nigh
E'en thus I heard the spectral Showman cry:—

OW first your eye will here descry
How all the world begun :

The earth green-dight, the ocean bright,
The moon, the stars, the sun.
All yet is dark; but you will mark,
While round this sphere is spun,
A Hand so bare moves here and there,
Whence rays of ruby run.

I pull a string, and everything

Is finish'd bright and new,

Tho' dim as dream all yet doth seem;
And this, God wot, is true.

Now this, you see, is Eden tree,
In Eden's soil set deep;
Beneath it lies with closed eyes

Strong Adam, fast asleep.

All round, the scene is gold and green,

And silver rivers creep;

Him on the grass the wild beasts pass,

As mild and tame as sheep.

My bell I ring; I pull a string;

And on the self-same spot,

From Adam's side God takes his Bride;

And this is true, God wot.

There still doth shine the Tree Divine,
Flush'd with a purple flame,

And hand in hand our parents stand,
Naked, but have no shame.
Now Adam goes to take repose

While musing sits his Dame;
When, over her, the blest boughs stir,
To show how Satan came.

A Snake so bright, with horns of light,
Green leaves he rustles thro',

Fair Eve descries with wondering eyes;
And this, God wot, is true.

Now pray perceive, how over Eve
The fruits forbidden grow.

With hissing sound the Snake twines round,
His eyes like rubies glow.

"Fair Eve," he says (in those old days

Snakes spoke) and louteth low,

"This fruit you see upon the Tree

Shall make you see and know. . .

My bell I ring; I pull a string;
And on the self-same spot

Fair Eve doth eat the Fruit so sweet;

And this is true, God wot.

A CHILD.

Please, why did He who made the Tree,

Our Father in the Sky,

Let it grow there, so sweet and fair,

To tempt our parents' eye?

SHOWMAN.

My pretty dear, it is most clear
He wish'd her strength to try;
And therefore went, with wise intent,
The Serpent swift and sly.

I pull a string, and there (poor thing)
Stands Adam, eating too!

And now, you mark, all groweth dark;
And this, God wot, is true.

Now, you discern a voice so stern Cries "Adam, where art thou?" 'Tis God the Lord, by all adored,

Walks there; and all things bow.
But with his Bride doth Adam hide
His guilty, burning brow;

And of fig-leaves each sinner weaves
A guilty apron now.

My bell I ring; I pull a string;

And from that pleasant spot

A Sword of Flame drives man and dame; And this is true, God wot.

Now wipe the glass. And we will pass

To quite another scene:

In a strange land two Altars stand,

One red, the other green;

The one of blood right sweet and good,
The other weeds, I ween!

And there, full plain, stands frowning Cain,
And Abel spruce and clean.

I pull a string; and everything
Grows dark and sad anew,
There Abel lies with dying eyes!
And this, God wot, is true.

The wicked Cain hath Abel slain
All with a burning brand;

And now, sad sight, an Angel bright
Doth mark him with his hand.

A CHILD.

What specks so red are those that spread Behind them as they stand?

SHOWMAN.

The sparks you see the wild eyes be,

Countless as grains of sand,

Of all those men who have, since then,
Shed blood in any land!

In grief and pain they look at Cain,

Aghast on that sad spot;

And all around blood soaks the ground;

And this is true, God wot.

My bell I ring; I pull a string :
Now, Father Noah you mark-
Sleeping he lies, with heavy eyes,
All full of wine, and stark.
But now, behold! that good man old
A Voice in dream doth hark ;
And the Voice cries, "O Noah, arise!

And build thyself an Ark.”

Again I ring; and pull a string;

And all is water blue,

Where, floating free, the Ark you see;

And this, God wot, is true.

Thus God the Lord, with his great Word,

Did bid the waters rise,

To drown and kill all things of ill

He made beneath the skies.

The Lord saved none, but Noah alone,

His kith and kin likewise;

Two of each beast, both great and least ;
Two of each bird that flies.

My bell I ring; I pull a string;
And on the self-same spot,

The water sinks, the bright Bow blinks;
And this is true, God wot.

O day and night, unto your sight
Such wonders shown might be;
But to conclude this Peepshow good,

You Heaven and Hell shall see :
The shining things, with spangled wings,
Who smile and sing so free;

The crew of shame, who in hell-flame

Complain eternallie!

My bell I ring; I pull a string;

And you them both may view

The blest on high, the curst who cry :And this, God wot, is true.

A CHILD.

How can they bear, who sit up there

In shining robes so gay,

From Heaven to peer, without a tear,

On those who scream and pray?