Aiken and Coles were not to be seen; near him were the two Sandwich Islanders, stripping themselves of their clothing, that they might swim more freely. He did the same, and the boat floating near him, he seized hold of it. The two islanders joined him, and uniting their forces, they succeeded in turning the boat upon her keel; then bearing down her stern, and rocking her, they forced out so much water that she was able to bear the weight of a man without sinking. One of the islanders now got in, and in a little while baled out the water with his hands. The other swam about and collected the oars, and the three got once more on board.

By this time the wind had swept them beyond the breakers, and Weeks called for his companions to row for land. They were so chilled and benumbed by the cold, however, that they lost all heart, and absolutely refused. Weeks was equally chilled, but had superior sagacity and self-command. He counteracted the tendency to drowsiness and stupor which cold produces, by keeping himself in constant exercise; and seeing that the vessel was advancing, and that everything depended upon himself, he set to work to scull the boat clear of the bar, into quiet water. Towards midnight, one of the poor islanders expired. His companion threw himself on his corpse, and could not be persuaded to leave him. The dismal night wore away amidst these horrors, and as day dawned, Weeks found himself near land. He steered directly for it, and at length, with the aid of the surf, ran his boat high upon a sandy beach. Finding that one of the Sandwich Islanders yet gave signs of life, he aided him to leave the boat, and set out with him to the adjacent woods. The poor fellow, however, was too feeble to follow him, and Weeks was

soon obliged to abandon him to his fate, and provide for his own safety. Falling upon a beaten-path, he pursued it, and after a few hours came to a part of the coast where, to his surprise and joy, he beheld the ship at anchor, and was met by the captain and his party. After Weeks had related his adventures, the parties were despatched to beat up the coast in search of the unfortunate islander. They returned at night without success, though they had used the utmost diligence. On the following day, the search was resumed, and the poor fellow was at length discovered lying beneath a group of rocks, his legs swollen, his feet torn and bloody from walking through bushes and briers, and himself half-dead with cold, hunger, and fatigue.

Weeks and this islander were the only survivors of the crew of the jolly-boat, and no trace was ever discovered of Fox and his party.

Thus, eight men were lost on the first approach to the coast; a misfortune that cast a gloom over the spirits of the whole party, and was regarded by some of the superstitious as an omen that boded no good to the enterprise. Towards night, the Sandwich Islanders went on shore, to bury the body of their unfortunate countryman who had perished in the boat. On arriving at the place where it had been left, they dug a grave in the sand, in which they deposited the corpse, with a biscuit under one of the arms, some lard under the chin, and a small quantity of tobacco, as provisions for its journey to the land of spirits.

Having covered the body with sand and flints, they kneeled along the grave in a double row, with their faces turned to the east, while one who officiated as a priest, sprinkled them with water from a hat. In so doing, he

recited a kind of prayer, or invocation, to which, at intervals, the others made responses. Such were the simple rites performed by these poor savages at the grave of their comrade, on the shore of a strange land; and when these were done, they rose and returned in silence to the ship, without casting a look behind.

THE QUEEN AND THE YOUNG COURTIER.

The young cavalier we have so often mentioned had probably never yet approached so near the person of his sovereign; and he pressed forward as far as the line of warders permitted, in order to avail himself of the present opportunity. His companion, on the contrary, cursing his impudence, kept pulling him backwards, till Walter shook him off impatiently, letting his rich cloak drop carelessly from one shoulder; a natural action, which served, however, to display to the best advantage his well-proportioned person. Unbonneting, at the same time, he fixed his eager gaze on the queen's approach, with a mixture of respectful curiosity, and modest yet ardent admiration, which suited so well his fine features, that the warders, struck with his rich attire, and noble countenance, suffered him to approach the ground over which the queen was to pass, somewhat closer than was permitted to ordinary spectators. Thus the adventurous youth stood full in Elizabeth's eye-an eye never indifferent to the admiration which she deservedly excited among her subjects, or to the fair proportions of external form which chanced to distinguish any of her courtiers. Accordingly, she fixed her keen glance

on the youth as she approached the place where he stood, with a look in which surprise at his boldness seemed to be unmingled with resentment, while a trifling accident happened, which attracted her attention towards him yet more strongly. The night had been rainy, and just where the young gentleman stood, a small quantity of mud interrupted the queen's passage. As she hesitated to pass on, the gallant, throwing his cloak from his shoulders, laid it on the miry spot, so as to insure her stepping over it dry-shod. Elizabeth looked at the young man, who accompanied this act of devoted courtesy with a profound reverence, and a blush that overspread his whole countenance. The queen was confused, and blushed in her turn, nodded her head, hastily passed on, and embarked in her barge without saying a word.

We have been rambling all the night,

And almost all the day;

And now returnéd back again,

We have brought you a branch of May.

3.

A branch of May we have brought you,
And at your door it stands ;

It is but a sprout, but it's well budded out
By the work of our Lord's hands.

4.

The hedges and trees they are so green,
As green as any leek;

Our heavenly Father He watered them
With His heavenly dew so sweet.

5.

The heavenly gates are open wide,
Our paths are beaten plain;
And if a man be not too far gone,
He may return again.

6.

The life of man is but a span,

It flourishes like a flower;

We are here to-day and gone to-morrow,

And we are dead in an hour.

7.

The moon shines bright, and the stars give a light,

A little before it is day :

So God bless you all, both great and small,

And send you a joyful May!