300 LINES BY WALLIN, THE SWEDISH POET.—PRESIDENT TAYLOR.

against the two sides of an arch. The man acted calmly. He flung off all his clothes but his trowsers and shirt,-for, as he said in his subsequent examination, “I knew there would be work for me that night,"-and then vaulted over the bridge into the stream. A moment stunned by the fall, he next instant was clambering on to the coche. He found that the whole stern was under water, and the common room only above the surface. It was so dark, that Boisdoux could scarcely tell how to

act.

"We are all lost!" cried a wailing voice; "who will save us?"

of the Legion of Honour, never more worthily earned; the Montyon prize was awarded him; men from all parts sent him tokens of their admiration; and best of all, when two years had elapsed, Euphrasie gave him her hand. The boatman retired from his ordinary labours, but, with the consent of his wife, he still devotes his whole mind to the noble task he had allotted unto himself; and if ever she feels dread or alarm, she sends him forth eagerly when, in a low and hushed voice, he breathes the name of the Coche d'Auxerre.

The above narrative is familiar to all who "I, Boisdoux,” replied the heroic boatman. dwell on the Seine and the Yonne. Perhaps A faint cry of satisfaction came from a the trumpet-tongued voice of history never small cabin window. He rushed to it. It recorded deeds of valour more worthy of was too narrow for him to pass. Still, break-record.

ing it with his hands, he tried to force him

His undaunted courage, at all events, deserve

self in, for this way only could he hope to a good and noble purpose.

save any of the passengers. Using his great

strength with all his wonted energy, he at last

WRITTEN A FEW HOURS BEFORE HIS DEATH.

tore away a narrow strip of plank, and plung- LINES BY WALLIN, THE SWEDISH POET: ed into the cabin,-death in his heart, for he heard scarcely a sound. He felt near his hand, in the dark abyss, a woman. She breathed, and he at once forced her through the window, followed, laid her in a safe place, and re-entered the cabin. Another woman rewarded his efforts, and then a man. A fourth time he entered the close and now mephitic cabin, half full of water.

"Speak!-is there one here more whom I can aid?" he said, in an agonized tone. He was thinking of Euphrasie.

No sound came.

"Speak, in the name of Ged!" he exclaimed, "for I am choking."

But no reply came. All was silent as death.

"Not one muttered!" Boisdoux, feeling about and clasping a man in his arms. "Can I save one more? Help!

Repose, O weary soul, in peace repose:
To that eternal home, where, in the end,
Let thy last thoughts and cherished hopes ascend
A great light shall make clear what no man knows.
Repose, my soul, repose!

Lie, weary arms, crossed meekly on my breast-
Crossed meekly for a prayer in that dread hour.
For now I strive to speak, and lack the power;
Strength leaves me, and I draw near to my rest.
Lie, crossed upon my breast.

Sleep, weary soul! Lo thou hast struggled sore'

But now behold the hour of peace is near-
One loving thought for those who linger here,
And then lie down and sleep, and strive no more.
Lo, thou hast struggled sore!

PRESIDENT TAYLOR.

Boisdoux made a desperate effort to reach the window, for he felt himself fainting from General Taylor simply made one of the confatigue and the close vapours of the cabin. He gregation, undistinguishable and unremarked. saw by flashing lights that help had come. There was something grander in this than in mere Next minute he was dragged forth by one of regal display, in so far as solid power, without the police of the town, who, with hundreds of show, impresses the mind much more strongly the inhabitants, were now on the scene of the than show without solid power. Nothing could terrible disaster. The first form that caught well be more original than the personal appearthe eye of the young man was that of Eu-ance of the late president of the United States, to phrasie, whose life he had saved without knowing it.

Her father had perished.

The boat was dragged ashore after being righted, but too late to save any others. Of the passengers and crew, twenty had perished. Boisdoux had saved three,-his beloved, and a brother and sister, who at the first shock had cowered together.

This time all France applauded the heroism of the boatman of Montereau the press gave columns to the narrative,-even the sedate Moniteur; the king sent him the cross

whom hiscountrymengave thesoubriquet of Rough and Ready.' He was dressed in a suit of plain clothes; his blue coat of any thing but the last Bond-street cut. The weather being cold, he wore coloured worsted gloves, which were something too long. His straight hair fell smoothly on his

forehead; while his face, browned under many a gave token of the deeds he had performed, and of sun-his temples furrowed with many a thought, the anxieties he had suffered in his country's cause. He had a pleasing expression in his eye; and now humbly standing in the presence of his Maker, surrounded by his fellow-citizens, all within seemed tranquil and serene.

THE FUNERAL PASTY.

THE peasantry of Estremadura, to whose life and learning centuries have brought little change, still delight in their traditional story of Josas the muleteer, who lived 300 years ago, and was the best onion-roaster in the province. Josas was at San-Martinho, a small and ancient village lying deep among the hills beyond the Portuguese frontier. His father, who was more than suspected of being a Moor, had sought refuge there from the Spanish Inquisition; but after his death, which occurred when Josas was but thirteen, his mother, having repented of all her sins and married a true Catholic, would have nothing to do with Josas; fortunately, however, there was one that would. Old Senaro, the best muleteer and the crossest man in San Martinho, adopted him in lieu of an only son who had gone as a soldier to India and never came back. Under his tuition, Josas learned to drive mules, to roast onions, and at length (but the old man said he had no hand in that) to fall desperately in love with the vintner's daughter, Rosinda, whose equal for pride and beauty was not in the province.

from their pasture; and in helping him to seek them through the burning noon and the chilly night, poor Senaro caught a fever, and died. Josas missed the old man, though his temper was bad. He could always escape the cudgel by a run; and being now left muleless and friendless, the youth resolved to leave the proud Rosinda and his native village. Who knew but he might find his mules, or better for tune, beyond the mountains? Accordingly, having filled his wallet with the largest and best onions in Senaro's garden, a few handfuls of garlic, a piece of goats' cheese, and a flask of the vintner's wine, he took leave of his neighbors, his friends, and his fair enslaver, and set forth from San Martinho with the good wishes of young and old.

Josas shaped his course eastward, and soon entered the Spanish portion of the province. All the country was known to him by many a journey. The shepherds gave him shelter in their huts among the hills; the swincherds in the woods shared their meals with him; but nobody could see his mules, nor could he see any chance of a master. At length, in the noon of a sultry day, his path descended to the rich and cultivated lands that lie along the banks of the Vega. Laden vines and olives covered the slopes; corn waved on the lower grounds; castles and villages rose on all sides as far as his eye could reach; and close by the river, like a white walled town, half shaded by a chesnut grove, stood the great and wealthy convent of St. Yuste. Josas knew that convent was far too rich and grand to entertain poor travellers like himselfmoreover, it was reported that the old king of Spain had become a monk within it's walls; but hoping for a shade wherein to rest and roast his onions, the muleteer took his way among the chesnuts.

This misfortune fell on Josas before he was eighteen. Afflictions of this kind come early in Estremadura. The youth's personal at tractions were not numerous. It was popularly believed there was not a rat's dinner on Josas's lathy frame; and the sun and wind had so dealt on his long loose hair and brown visage, that no man could distinguish their color from the dust of the Sierra. Nevertheless, having a stock of accomplishments not to be despised in San Martinho, Josas had hopes. He could dance with any youth in the village, sing with any muleteer on the mountains, and talk down the priest himself-never stopping for stories. With this artillery he besieged The old trees grew thick, and were full of Rosinda as the mules and Senaro permitted. wood-pigeons; what a dinner Josas could have His throat grew hoarse with shouting love- made on some of them, but for the fear of sasongs all night under her window; his con- crilege! Roasted onions were safer than science groaned under a weight of fibs; half that; and having found a convenient spot in his earnings were spent in her father's wine- the heart of the wood, where the grass was shop-the rest offered at her shrine in the dry and the withered boughs abundant, Josas shape of scarlet handkerchiefs and green rib-collected a heap, kindled a fire with his flint bons. But the vintner's daughter had more and steel, and laid in the onions with all due wealthy suitors; besides, it was her glory to be cruel; and at the end of two years' hard service, Josas found himself exactly at the same height in his lady's favor as when his suit began.

precaution. He had scarcely seated himself on the mossy root of an old tree, and pulled out his cheese, when a rustling sound, which had been going forward at no great distance, was followed by a deep groan, and "Alas! He had so often assured her he would die, alas!" repeated in good Castilian, of which, without executing the threat, that it now fell thanks to the mules, Josas had some knowpowerless on Rosinda's ear; and his despair ledge. Cautiously the muleteer rose, and on the last exhibition of her scorn might have peeping through the screen of leaves which gone beyond ordinary limits, if it had not separated him from the speaker, saw leaning been diverted by a series of more substantial against the trunk of a huge chesnut, a tall troubles. First, his best mule-which Josas gray-haired man with a roll of papers in his thought could walk up a church steeple-fell hand. His bones were as bare as Josas's own; over the rocks, and broke its neck one morn-his lace-band velvet hat and doublet had an ing; then the remaining two strayed away old-fashioned look, as if time had gone wearily

with both them and their master-yet there his majesty. Do you know anything of was the true hidalgo air about him, and some- dressing partridges?" thing of the soldier too.

the barley-loaf and bacon of their supper, called a stout old signor, attired in a monk's somewhat astonished her. Travellers were gown lined with ermine, with a richly-illumiscarce in that quarter; and it was a great nated psalter in his left hand; while the right, opportunity for the woodman and his daugh- shapeless with the gout, and wrapped in Inter to tell their news, since Josas had none:dian handkerchiefs, rested on a cushion of emhow the convent-chapel was to be hung with broidered velvet. It was Charles V.. with his black, and illuminated with 400 tapers, while physician Matheo so, his confessor Borja, and the emperor's funeral-service was performed his chamberlain Don Quixada. The chamber for the good of his soul; and lords and knights was lighted only by a great open window opwere coming from leagues round to see it on posite the bed, and looking down into the the morrow. Josas was about to open the choir, where the monks and the rest of the budget of his hopes, and Don Gulielmo's pro-royal household still remained, though vespers mises-for he perceived they regarded him as were over, practising a certain chant which a rustic who knew nothing of high life-was to form part of the grand service next when Simmo, which lay before the crackling day. fire, opened his jaws with a long and friendly bark, as the woodman's latch was lifted, and a youth wearing a monk's hood and frock, but looking marvellously like a man-at-arms, stepped in.

"Whither so late, Jago?" said Balthazar. "I thought the convent-gate was always closed at vespers?"

46

So it is," said the youth. "But I have been sent to inquire after a stranger with whom Don de la Male talked to-day in the woods."

"I am he," said Josas, rising with no little pride.

Charles reigned at Yuste as he had never done in Germany, Spain, and the Indies. There were no Protestant princes there to dispute his will, no Luther to defy, no Francis I. to rival him. The abbot said, his example in devotion and good eating edified the whole convent. Signors from every corner in Spain vied with each other in sending him choice delicacies, which he relished in spite of the gout and Dr. Matheoso; attending, nevertheless, to both prayers and fasting, obliging his household-all but those of noble birth-to wear the monastic garb, aad keeping the entire convent, for at least a month, busy in preparations for a funeral-service in honour of himself. On the eve of this solemnity, a calamity more serious than gout or physician had overtaken the mighty Charles. His chiefBidding the astonished woodman and his cook had fallen sick that week, and his second daughter a patronising good-night, the mule- thought proper to run away-some said from teer followed his guide in judicious silence | home-sickness-that very morning, an hour through a winding woodpath, an outward pos- after the arrival of a basket of partridges, fattern, and a covered-way which admitted them tened by an Andalusiau grandee on dough to the kitchen-garden of the convent. It was made of ground almonds, and intended for a reckoned the best in Spain; and by a walk pasty at the commemoration supper which was bordered with garlic, whose scent made his to succeed the emperor's funeral, with its foreteeth water, Josas was conducted to the back-going herbs and fasting.

The youth looked amazed, but instantly recovering himself, said in a respectful tone: "Then, signor, it is the don's command that you repair with me to his presence.”

door of that wing which Charles V., some- Three couriers had been despatched to as time emperor of Germany, &c., had chosen as his retreat from the pomps and vanities of the world. At the back-door he found Don Gulielmo, looking as if the vintner's wine had left him nothing but its lees.

liarity as after nones that day; and the result was, a command privately given when vespers came on, with no sign of a returning courier, to seek out the cook he had met with in the wood.

many cities in search of somebody capable of cooking such partridges; but the fear that none of them would return in time troubled the imperial mind and household, till hope was rekindled by Don de la Male. The secretary "Welcome, honest youth," said the secre- was a noble by birth and a scholar by learntary, like a man endeavouring to reassure him- ing, but no one had ever seen him talk to his self by talking. "I have spoken to his ma-imperial master with such confidential famijesty, and he desires to see you. You can manage partridges: remember you told me so. For the Virgin's sake," he continued into Josas's ear, "do your best, or you and I shall be ruined!" Mentally resolving to avoid the calamity if possible, though wishing himself back in San Martinho, the muleteer followed Don Gulielmo across a hall, up a stone stair, and through five rooms hung with black and tenantless, to a still more gloomy chamber, where three grave gentlemen stood each at a corner of a statebed, on which, propped up with innumerable pillows, sat one whom Josas would have

"Ha, Brother Pedro!" cried Charles, stopping his chant, "that screech would mar the music of angels. Is this the young man ?" he continued, as Don Gulielmo took his place at the fourth corner; and Josas, obedient to his signal, approached, bowing every step. The muleteer knew not on how many of Europe's battle-fields and council-halls that glance had fallen; but it grew keenly earnest as, measur

ing him from head to foot, the conqueror of chapel-an intervening court had been left Pavia said: "Young man, you know some- open by imperial forethought, that the cook thing of partridges, and had, as we hear, a might be edified, and doubtless Josas was; noble teacher. The illustrious rank and lineage of Don Senaro have escaped our memory, which indeed grows weak through years and sickness; but doubtless he was skilful in the table. Tell us, on your conscience, did he boil with Valencia wine or Canary?"

Valencia," said Josas, who rather preferred that liquor.

"Did he sprinkle with saffron or garlic?" "Both," said Josas.

"Good!" said the emperor: "he was an instructor. Young man, we will intrust to you our choice partridges. To morrow, after the solemnities, let them appear at our table in a pasty compounded in your master's best style. The office of our chief-cook depends on that pasty. Brethren, let us proceed with the chant."

but when the first dirge floated over plain and woodland, Antonia who sat spinning at her father's door, because somebody must keep the hogs, was startled by his appearance with hair erect and terror-stricken face, then, exclaiming: "I'm ruined! Don Gulielmo and I are both ruined!"

"What has ruined you?" said Antonia, looking up from her wheel as if she thought that consummation impossible.

"I fell asleep, and the partridges are burned to a cinder?" cried Josas. "Will you hide

me?"

"I can't commit sacrilege," said Antonia with a glance at the wood-pigeon: "but there is something here," and she darted into the cottage.

Josas followed her instinctively. In the corner sat a brooding hen. How near her maternal hopes were to their accomplishment the muleteer never learned; but wringing the neck of the unlucky fowl, Antonia thrust it under his skirts, saying: "Run as fast as you can, boil that in wine, and send it up in a pasty: great people never know what they are eating."

With the last words, she pushed him out, and Josas ran back to the kitchen.

A pasty was sent up to the emperor's sup

which henceforth became a handmark in the imperial life. Don "Gulielmo gloried in his cook. The physician in attendance on his sovereign inhaled complacently the rich flavour of almonds which the birds retained; and Charles declared, with his usual deliberation, that more tastefully-boned, or better hashed partridges he had never eaten-only they appeared to him a little rare.

The canons of cookery at that period were somewhat different from those now in repute, and modern aspirants would not be benefitted by a minute detail of the partridge pasty as given by Don Gulielmo to his protégé, when the almond-fed birds had been delivered by the chamberlain into Josas's custody with the ceremonies deemed proper on such occasions, and the rest of the establishment had retired to be ready for mass still earlier than usual. Suffice it, therefore, that the process began with a boiling of Valencia wine, and termi-per that evening after his funeral—a pasty nated with a sprinkling of garlic and saffron. All the intervening particulars were known to Don Gulielmo, for, next to a lamprey-pie it was the emperor's favourite dish; and the secretary knew that he was compromised. As for Josas, things had gone so swimmingly, that although he did not yet believe in the illustrious lineage of old Senaro, his faith in himself was almost perfect. After a sound sleep and a considerable breakfast, our muleteer fell to the partridges with good courage about noon next day, being left sole occupant of the imperial kitchen. How the funeral solemnities proceeded, together with the display of riches, relics, and good company made by the convent on that occasion, may be learned from the chroniclers of the period. Our business is with Josas in the kitchen. It contained many conveniences unknown to his early instructor; he lamented Senaro over the flour, wine and spices so liberally placed at his disposal, and chiefly over a mass of cow-heel. suet, and great onions, which stood stewing by the fire for the scullion's supper.

When high mass commenced, Josas had set the partridges to boil in the Valencia, reserving about a pint for his own consolation, which, having discussed, together with a dish of the said stew, it occurred to him that he might take a little rest on one of the kitchen benches. The wine was strong, the day was warm, and the music came sweet and solemn from the

The humility with which Josas heard that flattering judgment when announced to him in due form by the chamberlain's page, astonished the brothers of St. Jérôme; but they were still more surprised when, on the arrival of the three couriers with an equal number of cooks, he craved on bended knee to be excused from further attendance in the imperial kitchen. As among the new-comers there was one master of lamprey-pies, the muleteer's congé was graciously granted, with a present of fifty crowns.

Dr. Matheoso said that was the only pasty he ever knew to agree with his majesty, and Balthazar never found out what became of his single hen; as for Josas, it cost him three days of meditation how he should dispose of himself and the crowns-the latter being his chief puzzle; but at length for reasons which neither the vintner, his daughter, nor all San Martinho could ever divine, a wedding was celebrated at the woodman's cottage, and he settled down to watch the hogs and pigeons,