Presently Mrs. G. came, the rest of the pupils made their appearance, prayers were read, and breakfast begun. Generally, the postman came while we were at breakfast, but this morning he came not, delayed, doubtless, by the contents of his leathern bag. We had just begun our lessons, our fingers were nervously twitching our bookcorners, when the servant entered bearing a tray piled high with seeming letters.

"Attend to your lessons, young ladies," said Mrs. G., as she caught the eyes of above thirty girls fixed on the tray. And then she opened and read carefully each one, when, if it contained nothing objectionable, was passed to the young lady for whom it was intended. Mine were amongst the first given, and so delighted was I with the beauties they contained, that I had forgotten Amy and her anxiety, when I heard her name pronounced in rather a surprised tone. "Miss Lee! here," said Mrs. G., while Amy walked blushing to her table. "Take it," said she; "I believe it is an original one," she added, smiling. Amy just glanced at the direction, blushed deeper than before, and quietly put it in her pocket. I had no opportunity during the day of speaking to her, but when I retired to my room at night, Amy was already there, seated by the little table, and reading, as I imagined, the note of the morning. There was such a pleased look on her face that I almost longed to be acquainted with the cause. "Come, Nellie," said she, and I went and knelt by her knee while she read in a low voice the verses that had given her such pleasure. They were full of sympathy for her past misfortunes, and (I remember the last verse well) concluded thus:

"O, clasp thy little hand in mine,
Sweet Amy Lee,
And whisper to my heart "I'm thine,"
Sweet Amy Lee;

I'll shelter thee from every storm,
And guide thee while on earth we roam,
Until we reach our heavenly home,

Sweet Amy Lee.-H. H." "How beautiful!" said I, enthusiastically, when she had finished; but she looked too happy for reply, and we were soon asleep.

The next day I was sent for suddenly home; a hasty good-bye to Amy and my teacher, and I was hurried away. A beloved elder sister was dangerously ill, and had expressed an earnest desire to see me. Ere I arrived a change had taken place-a hopeful change-and it was determined, should my sister's health continue to imrove, I should return to school after a few

days. But I had caught a severe cold, and for weeks I was confined to my room. My parents feared consumption, and they were advised to take me to some watering-place as soon as I could be removed. We spent the summer months at a pleasant little town, where I quickly regained my health and strength. It was late in the year when we returned home, and as I was still considered something of an invalid, nothing was said of my returning to school. Christmas and its festivities passed away, and I longed to return to Amy. One day 1 received a letter from Mrs. G. hoping I should return to her as soon as my health would permit. She said she had enclosed a letter from Amy, which she believed contained a very pleasing inquiry. Mrs. G. went on to say that a few days after I had left she received a letter from a gentleman (a near neighbour, as she afterwards learned,)_saying he was well acquainted with Miss Lee's sad reverse of fortune, had seen her noble efforts, had admired and loved the spirit that dictated such a path, and begged he might be allowed to see her. He concluded by apologising for such an intrusior., he being a perfect stranger to both. His letter was signed" HARRIS HERNLY."

Mrs. G. then communicated this intelligence to the surprised and almost frightened Amy. The gentleman called upon Mrs. G. and revealed to her his sentiments; he had first seen Amy at her house, where she had occasionally visited before she became a pupil. He had admired her gentle face and unassuming manners, and afterwards, when made acquainted with her unfortunate situation, his affection had ripened, strengthened. He pressed Mrs. G. to accept a cheque for a hundred pounds in lieu of Amy's services, and begged she would introduce Amy to him. I gathered from her letter it had been a trying moment for poor Amy, but he with whom she held converse possessed a spirit noble as her own, and gentle Amy at last consented to become his wife.

Amy's note was a request that I would fulfil a promise I made her in our early school-days, namely, that I would be her bridesmaid. The happy event was arranged to take place on the fourteenth of February. Of course, I attended. The wedding took place at Mrs. G.'s, who was as much overjoyed as myself at the good fortune of our beloved Amy. It is almost needless to add, Amy Hernly is my true friend still.

This, dear reader, is my most pleasing reminiscence of a St. Valentine's Day.

LUCINDA B.

KATIE'S SKATING LESSON.

Ir is but a few days since my niece Katie came to visit me; it was at the commencement of this long frost, which has turned our village into a scene of gaiety, very unusual in such a secluded nook of old England. Lying low, the country was very much inundated by the floods, which successive frosts have turned into broad fields of ice, and pleasure-seekers come far and near for skating upon its glassy surface.

Katie Snow being a gay, bright little thing, I am afraid has often been wearied in her visits to her old-maidish aunt,-but not this time, the reason for which I will relate.

It was the morning after her arrival, and Katie stood at the breakfast-room window, which commanded a full view of the first skating upon the floods. Suddenly she turned, startling me so that I ran the needle I was using partly down my thumb-nail.

the breeze as she floated past, her long golden curls dancing in the wind. The exhilarating exercise gave a warm glow to her cheek, and a brilliant sparkle to her eyes that was truly bewitching. A deep sigh at my side recalled my revery. I turned quickly. "Reuben, you here "

A crimson flush deepened on the young man's cheek as I held out my hand.

"I am but a looker on; I do not skate." I knew as much, but that did not account for the painful flush, then the sudden paling, of his bronzed cheeks. I noted this as he turned from me to the ice. Reuben Carson was the son of a neighbour, whom, having known from a child, I loved almost as one of my own. He had been the stalwart playfellow of my little Katie in her frequent visits, and they had grown up together without my suspeeting a warmer than fraternal feeling to exist between them. Later events had enlightened me as to the state of his affection; but alas! could flighty little Katie ever return such a deep,

"Certainly, my dear, if you wish it." Accordingly, Katie's little foot was measured and fitted, and we started together to the ice, where a group of ladies were already congregated, but as watchers merely. The sight of Katie's skates brought a crowd of eavaliers to her side, each eager for the honour of fastening them on. Katie's choice was a young man rather below the medium height, fair complexioned, and slight in figure, certainly with no good looks to recommend him, and whom I knew distantly as Frank Dacre, the son of our village lawyer, who was practising in a distant town, now at home for the Christmas holidays.

Even though my own niece, I cannot help saying that Katie Snow is one of the most precious little flirts I ever met with-not one of those heartless coquettes than which nothing is more detestable, but to the piquancy of a child she adds the most wilful sauciness that ever made a man's heart ache. Such was Katie that day, as guided by two strong hands she skims the ice, heartily enjoying her first skating lesson. Now growing bolder and more expert, one guide is sufficient, and Frank Dacre alone remains at her side. Fie, Katie ! this is skating, indeed. The silvery laugh was wafted by

past, her hand clasped firmly by Frank, and, as she smiled up at him, once more the crimson flush mounted to the very brow of Reuben. He clenched his hands tightly, and turned aside.

Day after day was this scene enacted. Katie progressed in her skating, but still she was too timid to proceed without Frank's protecting hand. Though he suffered agonies in watching, yet, daily, Reuben appeared on the scene. Wilful, saucy, wicked little Katie, could she guess the torture he was enduring?

One afternoon a snowstorm came on; I could not stay longer on the ice, but Frank and Katie pleaded so eagerly that the lesson might not be relinquished, that I left them. Was Katie fascinated? I could not tell, neither could I wonder if she were. Certainly Frank was polished, agreeable; and there was a power in his light blue eyes that I felt might captivate my little Katie.

I left Reuben with injunctions to see Katie home, and departed. Until the twilight had grown very deep, I sat by the window, partly shaded by the heavy crimson curtains, watching the moon slowly rise, and listening for the expected footsteps. Presently I heard them upon the walk; now figures passed by the window; it was Reuben and Katie alone. They entered the room (over which the glowing embers cast a subdued rosy light) evidently too preoccupied to notice me in my far corner

Katie was slowly removing her wrappings her bonnet fell on the floor. She stepped lightly to Reuben's side; her voice trembled as she spoke :

"You forgive me, Reuben ?"

I scarcely recognised that subdued tone as Katie's, and he-great, big, bashful Reuben-stooped to encircle the slim fairy figure with his great strong arms. He did not answer verbally, but no doubt quite as expressively. It was no time to remain concealed. I came forward; both started, and Katie's quick blushes were perceptible in the firelight.

"Oh, Auntie! do you know-." She was in my arms, the sentence unfinished; I clasped her tightly. "I guess all, my darling; Reuben, I am happy indeed." He grasped my hand.

"Miss Snow, I dared not have hoped so much; I am doubly blessed." The glowing light revealed tears in his dark, earnest eyes. It was late ere Reuben left, and then I summoned Katie to account.

She laughed, and her eyes were dancing through some very bright tears; a rosy

blush suffused her face.

"What else could I do, Auntie ?"-she paused a moment, then hid her face upon my shoulder. "I knew Reuben loved me, and-and that he couldn't tell me so." "And so," continued I, you thought to tantalise him into confession; a dangerous game, Miss Katie, though successful in this case. I did not think you such an accomplished coquette."

66

Aunt, it was not coquetry, I really wanted to learn skating, and when Frank offered to teach me

"You could not of course refuse. Well, darling, I did not expect the skating lesson to be so full of meaning. I pity poor Reuben, the victim of a double scheme." "Auntie, you shall not,' (her tiny hand was placed over my mouth)-"you are teazing. Reuben has forgiven me, and owns that Frank's possession of my hand first taught him the power and fervour of his love, and that but for the skating lesson he would have been content to continue loving me in a kind of abstract, distant way; so you, too, must own Katie's skating lesson has done some good."

"Yes, indeed, since it has turned bashful Reuben into a bold, happy, successful lover." SNOW.

SOMB one was asked what works he had in the press ?

"Why, the History of the Bank, with notes; the Art of Cookery, with plates; and the Science of Single-Stick, with wood-cuts.'

ERRATA.

THE errata was unknown before the invention of printing. The correction of a manuscript was an easy process. When the writer perceived an error he effaced it with a sponge before the ink dried; or he erased the defective word or words, and placed a mark beneath. An account of the errata prefixed or added to the most memorable books published since the discovery of printing would form an extremely interesting chapter in literary history. During the first half of the seventeenth century the works printed in Paris were so incorrect, we are told, that a State order was issued on the subject, to the effect that “so few good books are issued at Paris, and those that are printed appear so imperfect, from the bad paper used and the few corrections made in them, that we must pronounce it a kind of disgrace, and consider it a serious loss to the State." The same faults prevailed in other countries; and even the Bible, in the correction of which unusual care was always exhibited, has been frequently disfigured by typographical blemishes. We can call to mind only a few of these at the moment, but some of our antiquarian readers will doubtless enable us to extend the list considerably. Pope Sixtus V. published an edition of the "Vulgate" in Rome, of which he had carefully supervised the correction of each proof. At the end of the work he attached a bull excommunicating any person who ventured to alter the text. This bull entertained the people exceedingly, for the Bible was discovered to be so full of errors that he was compelled to suppress the edition. In a Bible published in London, 1634, the passage (Psalms xiv.), "The fool hath said in his heart there is no God," was printed: "The fool hath said in his heart there is a God." Another Bible contained almost as strange a misprint (Ruth iv. 13): instead of "The Lord gave her conception," it read "The Lord gave her corruption." The editions of Field, printed for the University of Cambridge, are full of faults. It has been said that he received a large sum of money from the Independents for altering the passage in the "Acts of the Apostles" (vi. 3), which ends with the words, "whom we may appoint," &c., to "whom ye may appoint," &c., thus causing the right of choosing pastors to emanate from the people themselves, and not from the pastors. In the same Bible we find (1 Cor. vi. 9), "Know ye not that the unrighteous shall inherit the kingdom of God"

NOTES AND QUERIES FOR NATURALISTS.

NOTES.

ESQUIMAUX DOGS.

DELIGHTS OF DOG DRIVING.-I shall not easily forget the trial my patience underwent during the six weeks that I drove that dog sledge. The leader of my team, named "Omar Pasha," was very willing, but very lame. Little "Rose" was coquettish, and fonder of being caressed than whipped. From some cause or other, she ceased growing when only a few months old; she was, therefore, far too small for heavy work. "Darky" and "Missy" were mere pups; and, last of all, came the two wretched starvelings, reared in the winter, "Foxy" and "Dolly." Each dog had its own harness, formed of strips of canvas, and was attached to the sledge by a single trace, twelve feet long. None of them had ever been yoked before, and the amount of cunning and perversity they displayed, to avoid both the whip and the work, was quite astonishing. They bit through their traces, and hid away under the sledge, or leaped over one another's backs, so as to get into the middle of the team, out of the way of my whip, until the traces became plaited up, and the dogs were almost knotted together. The consequence was, I had to halt every few minutes, pull off my mitts, and, at the risk of frozen fingers, disentangle the line. I persevered, however, and, without breaking any of their bones, succeeded in getting a surprising amount of work out of them. Hobson drove his own dog sledge likewise, and as long as we were together we helped each other out of difficulties, and they were frequently occurring; for, apart from those I have above mentioned, directly a dog sledge is stopped by a hummock, or sticks fast in deep snow, the dogs, instead of exerting themselves, lie down, looking perfectly delighted at the circumstance, and the driver has to extricate the sledge with a hearty one, two, three haul, and apply a little gentle persuasion to set his canine team in motion again.

Punishment.-Poor dogs! they have a hard life of it in these regions. Even Petersen, who is generally kind and humane, seems to fancy they must have little or no feeling. One of his theories is, that you may knock an Esquimaux dog about the head with any article, however heavy, with perfect impunity to the brutes. One of us upbraided him the other day because he broke his whip-handle over the head of a dog. "That was nothing at all," he assured us. Some friend of his in Greenland found he could beat his dogs over

the head with a heavy hammer; it stunned them certainly, but, by laying them with their mouths open to the wind, they soon revived, got up, and ran about "all_right."-M'Clintock's Voyage of the "Fox."

THE CANINE INVASION.

Having observed, some days ago, that a few of the dogs were falling away-from some cause or other not having put on their winter clothing before the recent cold weather set in,-they were all allowed on board, and given a good extra meal. Since then we can scarcely keep them out. One calm night they made a charge, and boarded the ship so suddenly that] several of the men rushed up, very scantily clothed, to see what was the matter. Vigorous measures were adopted to expel the intruders, and there was desperate chasing round the deck with broomsticks, &c. Many of them retreated into holes and corners, and two hours elapsed before they were all driven out; but though the chase was hot, it was cold enough work for the half-clad men.—M'Clintock's Voyage of the "Fox.”

ALPINE EAGLES.

The Alpine eagle, particularly the one known as the "Lamb Vulture," not for its gentlenessby no means confines itself to preying upon mutton or similar fare. He is sometimes terribly disposed to taste human flesh, and not unfrequently succeeds in his attempts to procure it. In Hundwyl (Appenzell) such a daring robber carried off a child before the very eyes of its parents and neighbours. In the Silver Alps (Schwyz) an eagle seized a herdsman's child seated on the rocks, began forthwith to tear him to pieces, and dropped him into the abyss before the herdsman could drive the bird away. In Bernese Oberland, Anne Zurbuchen, a three-year-old child was taken out by her parents during the haymaking, and placed by them on the ground near a stable. The child soon fell asleep. The father covered the child's face with a straw-hat, and then went on his way to his labour. As he soon after returned with a bundle of hay, he found the child no longer there, and sought for it for a time in vain. In the meanwhile, the peasant Heïnrich Michel passed by a wild path in the direction of the mountain brook. To his astonishment he heard a child crying. Proceeding in the direction of the sound, he speedily saw from an adjacent height an eagle rise, and for a considerable time hang poised over the precipice. The peasant hastily ascended, and found the child lying on the very edge of the cliff, with no other injury than to the left hand and arm by which it had been seized, but with the loss of sock shoes, and cap, dropped