In the morning the old woman did pretend to be sick, and he said, "Well, Granny! what's the matter with you?" "Oh, my son, I am sick. I want some lion's flesh. That would make me well again." So he said he would try to get her some; and she showed him a ledge of rock, where were many of them, intending him to go amongst them, when they would kill him. But he went upon a higher ledge and met one by itself, which he killed and took home. Another morning she again pretended to be sick, and said, "Oh! I remember, when I was a girl, I used to ride on a carriole down such a beautiful slope; if I could have a ride now I should be quite well." He offered to accompany her; so she got the carriole, and took him to the summit of a slope, and desired him to get in in front, and she would sit behind. When he was seated she gave the carriage a push, and sent it down the slope and right over the edge, for she had taken him to the end of the world. (The Indians think that the world ends abruptly in a steep hill.) Whilst he was falling, he prayed to his gods that he might not be much hurt; and when he came to the bottom he looked up, and saw that he had fallen from a tremendous height. However, as he had his long sharp bones with him, he thought he might climb up again; so he took two of them, and by sticking them into the side of the rock, one above the other, and pulling out first one and putting it in higher, and then the other, he got up very slowly. He wore out one pair every day, and it took him six days to get up; and just as his last pair was worn out, he could put his hand upon the top, and get upon the world again. He then went back to the lodge, and simply said, you old woman, you played me a nice trick." She pretended to be very sorry; and she was very sorry to see him come back. 66 Ah! At night his wife wished him very much to go back to his own home, and to take her with him. So he took her and tied her to one of his arrows, and shot her in the direction of his lodge, and she fell a few yards from the tent door. He then set off running, and his gods helped him, so that he reached home in a few minutes. And when he came to his wife he said he must go and tell his sister, before he took her to the lodge. When he got there, he saw his sister looking very dirty and neglected, and he called, saying, "Sister, I have come home again." But instead of looking up, she only threw ashes in his face, and said, "Get away, you idle foxes; you have cheated me so often." For he had been away a long time on the whole; and soon after his departure the foxes used to come and cry out, Sister, sister, I have come home;" so she thought it was merely they that had returned. But he went in, and then she was very glad to see him; and he brought his wife to her, and they lived very happily together all his life. THE POPULAR YEAR-BOOK. April. APRIL is the only month of the year which is not called after Roman deities, or according to its place in the old Kalendar. Its name is derived from the Latin word aperire, to open, because the earth seems now to open itself and produce its fruits. The Romans dedicated this month to Venus. The Saxons termed it Ester, or Easter-monat, either from the feast of their goddess Eastre, Easter, or Eoster, or because the winds blow generally from the east, at this season. April is sometimes pictured as a youth or maiden, winged, and robed in green; crowned with a garland of myrtle and hawthorn buds: holding in one hand primroses and violets, and in the other the zodiacal sign, Taurus, or the Bull, into which constellation the sun enters on the 19th of this month. It is thus pourtrayed by Spenser : "Next came fresh April, full of lusty-hed, And wanton as a kid whose horn new buds; Upon a bull he rode, the same which led Europa floating through th' Argolick floods: His horns were gilden all with golden studs, And garnished with garlands goodly dight Of all the fairest flowers, and freshest buds Which th' earth brings forth, and wet he seem'd in sight With waves, through which he waded for his love's delight." April is proverbial for its variableness. It generally begins with raw and unpleasant weather, the influence of the equinoctial storms still in some degree prevailing. Then come bright and warm days of sunshine, but they are frequently overcast with clouds, and chilled with rough wintry blasts accompanied with showers. Still, April has been celebrated as the sweetest month of all the year; partly because it ushers in "the May," and partly for its own sake. "It is worth two Mays," says a modern author, "because it tells tales of May in every sigh that it breathes, and every tear that it lets fall. It is the herald, the promise, the prophecy, the foretaste of all the beauties that are to follow it-of all, and moreof all the delights of summer, and all the 'pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious autumn.' It is fraught with beauties that no other month can bring before us, and 'It bears a glass which shows us many more.' Its life is one sweet alternation of smiles and sighs and tears, and tears and sighs and smiles, till it is consummated at last in the open laughter of May." Early in this month the swallow returns. The kind first seen is the chimney or house swallow, known by its long forked tail and red breast. This harbinger of summer is followed by the martin, the swift, wryneck, cuckoo, redstart, wagtail, nightingale, black-cap, pied fly-catcher, wren and willow-wren, lark, white throat, booms; and all the birds are now busied in pairing, ring-ouzel, turtle-dove, lapwing, and tern. The bittern building their nests, laying, &c. As their singing is "the voice of courtship and conjugal love, the concerts of the groves begin to fill with all their various melody." swallow. He sings by day as well as by night; but in The nightingale is audible soon after the arrival of the thered companions: in the evening these are heard the day-time his notes are drowned by those of his feaalone; whence his song has ever been associated with the vesper time. In April poultry broods are hatched in numbers. Moths, butterflies, dragon-flies, beetles, ants, flies, worms, Most of the insects awaken from their winter lethargy. mole-crickets, spiders, and slugs, are very numerous. Fish bask in the sunshine, on the surface of the water. The changes of the weather above alluded to, have a potent effect in hastening vegetation; and perhaps "the great charm of this month, both in the open country and the garden, is the infinite green which pervades it every where, and which we had best gaze our fill at while we may, as it lasts but a little while, changing in a few weeks into an endless variety of shades and tints, that are equivalent to as many different colours." The black-thorn, ground-ivy, box-tree, sycamore, and many fruit-trees are loaded with flowers or blossoms. "Now daisies pied, and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue, Do paint the meadows with delight." The chequered daffodil, primrose, cowslip, harebell, wood anemone, and some orchis plants, also enliven our fields and woods. Lilacs, ranunculuses, polyanthuses, hyacinths, tulips, and honeysuckles, bloom in our gardens: and the wood-crowfoot and marsh marigold, in wet marshy places. Early potatoes and mangel-wurzel, carrots and Swedish turnips, and evergreens are planted. The farmer is still employed in sowing different sorts of grain, and seeds for fodder; for which purpose dry weather is yet suitable; though plentiful showers at due intervals are desirable for the young grass and springing corn. April, indeed, was considered by our ancestors as most favourable when wet, and they expressed this opinion in such proverbs as the following: "March winds, and April showers, "In April, Dove's flood Is worth a king's good"— or ransom, which would seem to have been a favourite and strong expression with the people. "The Dove," says Brady, "is a river of Staffordshire; and when it overflows in consequence of a great fall of rain, the adjoining meadows are fertilized, and hence, by analogy, similar favourable results are inferred to the kingdom at large." April consists of thirty days, which was the number assigned to it by Romulus. Numa Pompilius deprived it of one day, which Julius Cæsar restored, and which it has ever since retained. It held the first station in the Alban Kalendar, and then consisted of thirty-six days. April 1.-On this day the old Romans abstained from pleading causes, and the Roman ladies performed ablutions under myrtle-trees, crowned themselves with myrtle, and offered sacrifices to Venus. "This custom," says a late writer," originated in a mythological story, that as Venus was drying her wetted hair by a river side, she was perceived by satyrs whose gaze confused her: 'But soon with myrtles she her beauties veiled, The first of April was anciently observed in Britain as a high festival, in which an unbounded hilarity reigned through every order of its inhabitants. Brady remarks, that our almanacs generally, until about a century since, and many of them to a much later period, used to distinguish the first of April by the title of ALL FOOLS' DAY. The origin of the usage which gave rise to this appellation is involved in obscurity; but the practice of fool-making on the first of April, is, doubtless, very ancient and very general. Some have conjectured that it has an allusion to the mockery of our Blessed LORD by the Jews. By others, the custom is said to have begun from the mistake of Noah sending the dove out of the ark before the water had abated, on the first day of the month among the Hebrews, which answers to our first of April. In England, the fun of the day is to deceive persons by despatching them upon frivolous and nonsensical errands; to pretend they are wanted where they are not; or, in fact, in any way to betray them into some ludicrous situation, so as to entitle them to the epithet of "an April fool." Poor Robin's Almanac for 1760 contains the following metrical allusion to these "fooleries: (1) The Second Part of Youths' Behaviour," &c. 1664. (2) The "Family Dictionary," &c. 1705. "The first of April, some do say, Who're sent to dance Moll Dixon's round; At last some tell them of the cheat, A writer in the Spectator observes :-" In proportion as there are more follies discovered, so there is more laughter raised on this day, than on any other in the whole year. A neighbour of mine, who is a haberdasher by trade, and a very shallow conceited fellow, makes his boast that for these ten years successively he has not made less than a hundred fools. My landlady had a falling out with him about a fortnight ago, for sending every one of her children upon some sleeveless errand, as she terms it. Her eldest son went to buy a half-penny worth of incle at a shoemaker's; the eldest daughter was despatched half a mile to see a monster; and, in short, the whole family of innocent children made April fools. Nay, my landlady herself did not escape him." Hone remarks that the tricks that youngsters, and sometimes "children of a larger growth," play off on the first of April are various as their fancies. They send one who has "yet to know the humour of the day," to a cobbler's for a pennyworth of the best "stirrup-oil;" the cobbler receives the money, and gives the novice a hearty cut or two from his strap in return. Others are persuaded to go to some shop for half a pint of " pigeon's milk," or to a bookseller's for the "Life and Adventures of Eve's Mother," &c. The practice of making fools on this day in some of our Northern counties is very similar to that in the South; but the persons imposed upon, instead of being called " April fools," are sometimes named "gowks." In Scotland they have a custom (termed " Hunting the gowk") of sending a person from place to place by means of a letter, in which is written "On the first day of April Hunt the gowk another mile." Brand observes that a gouk, or gowk, is properly a cuckoo, and is used here metaphorically in vulgar language, for a fool: "this," says Hone," appears correct; for from the Saxon geac, a cuckoo,' is derived geck, which means one easily imposed upon." All Fools' Day is celebrated in France in the same manner as in England; and the person imposed upon, on this occasion, is there styled "Un poisson d'Avril," .e." an April fish." The same name is given by the French to the mackerel, a fish easily caught by deception, singly, as well as in great shoals, at this season of the year. The usage of making April fools prevails all over the continent. On the Sunday and Monday preceding Lent, it is thought at Lisbon very jocose to pour water on any person who passes, or throw powder on his face; but to do both is the perfection of wit. A lady relates that the first of April is marked in Provence by every body, both rich and poor, having for dinner, under some form or other, a sort of peas, peculiar to the country, called pois chiches; and, while the convent of the Chartreux was standing, it was one of the great jokes of the day to send novices thither to ask for these peas, telling them that the fathers were obliged to give them away to any body who would come for them. So many applications were in consequence made, in the course of the day, for the promised bounty, that the patience of the monks was at last usually exhausted, and it was well if the vessel carried to receive the peas was not thrown at the head of the bearer. In some parts of North America, the first of April is observed like S. Valentine's day, with this difference, that the boys are allowed to chastise the girls, if they think fit, either with words or blows. The Hindoos at their Huli festival keep a general holiday on the 31st of March, and "one subject of diversion," says Colonel Pearce, "is to send people on errands and expeditions that are to end in disappointment, and raise a laugh at the expense of the persons sent. They carry the joke so far as to send letters, making appointments in the names of persons who, it is known, must be absent from their houses at the time fixed upon; and the laugh is always in proportion to the trouble given." Maurice, in his "Indian Antiquities," remarks, that " the jocund sports prevalent on the first day of April in England, and during the Huli festival," just mentioned, "have their origin in the ancient practice of celebrating with festive rites, the period of the Vernal Equinox, or the day when the new year of Persia anciently began." Reading for the Young. THE PET BULLFINCH. bird have been accidentally left together, without any disastrous consequences. It is impossible for those who never saw this bird, to imagine the fondness he displayed for those who were the objects of his affection. The reasons which guided his choice instances was as striking as his partiality in others. were not always apparent; and his dislike in some His fondness for Mrs. F. was uniform, until about a year after he came into her possession, when he became very ill during the moulting season. After that time he did not discover any particular fondness for her, though no offence could be remembered. The person whom he fixed on as the object of his most active hostility was Mrs. F.'s eldest daughter. Though she was not so fond of animals as her younger sister, and had never taken so much notice of him, still she frequently offered him his favourite apple-pips, and had never, in any way that she knew of, vexed or hurt him. Sometimes he wrought up his little spirit into such animosity against her, that when he was hopping about the table after dinner, partaking of the fruit, he would suddenly fly into Anne's face, and try to peck her; and once he actually suspended himself by his beak fastened to her lip. After having exhausted himself by these assaults, he would fly across the table to Mary, and in a moment assume a different character. He would begin his little song, his head and tail keeping a sidelong motion to the tune; he would sit on her shoulder, and rub himself against her neck or face, as if he scarcely knew how to show He was HIS history was this. "Caught and caged"—I know not when nor where. My acquaintance with all the fondness he felt for her. Sometimes the him began about ten years ago, when he came acmere sound of Anne's voice would impel him to cidentally into the possession of an old lady of my renew his hostile attacks against her; and, leaving Mary, he would fly again to Anne, like a little acquaintance, with whom he soon became a great pet. He did not, at the time, appear to be a young him, by the sisters changing their seats, but he fury. Many were the attempts made to deceive bird: he was very tame, and had been taught to pipe a tune prettily. With this lady he lived four quickly discovered the imposition. The only thing which ever deceived him was when Mary threw a years. His aged mistress and himself passed hours in each other's society, and their mutual fondness handkerchief over her head; he then, for a moment, was displayed in various ways. She reserved for mistook her for a stranger. From some cause his her little favourite all the apple pips and crumbs of claws became diseased, and at last dropped off; so that he could no longer grasp his perch. cake, which were considered by him as the greatest dainties; and he appeared to do every thing in his therefore obliged to remain on the floor of his cage: power to cheer her solitude, by piping the notes of still, in other respects, he appeared to be in perfect his song, which was a very plaintive air; and by health, and the beautiful state of his plumage, all those little endearments by which he so well always bright and smooth, not a single feather knew how to express his regard. The door of the ruffled, was a proof of this. In all probability he cage was usually left open; and he would fly out, the inconsiderate deed of some little boys who were would have lived much longer, had it not been for perch on the arm of his mistress's chair, and take food from her mouth. To some of her visitors he visiting Mrs. F. They had often been warned not showed a decided preference, which he testified by to frighten the Bullfinch. But one day, when he sitting on the shoulder or head of the chosen friend, had quitted his cage, and was enjoying the free and singing the few notes he remembered of his range of the sitting-room, these little boys, seized little song. To others who approached his cage his by one of those sudden impulses which often hurry beak and threatening attitude plainly proved that lively children into thoughtless acts of disobedience, he considered them unwelcome intruders. When sprung from their seats, and before any one could his kind mistress died, he was taken by her daughter, till he dropped down quite exhausted. He was imstop them, chased the poor bird round the room, Mrs. F. to her distant residence in the West of Eng-mediately taken up, and his feet put into warm land. He soon selected Mrs. F. and her youngest daughter Mary for his peculiar favourites: to the other members of the family he seemed for some time perfectly indifferent. Mary scarcely knew at first how to manage with all her pets. Her little dog and her tortoiseshell cat, ( a most accomplished bird-catcher,) had long been established as inmates of the parlour, and would not patiently brook the indignity of being discarded for a new friend. This difficulty, however, was soon overcome; it was not long before they became so well acquainted as to take little notice of each other; and the cat and the water, in the hope of restoring him, but in vain. His delicate frame could not sustain so rude a shock, and the pet Bullfinch was no more. Every one lamented that his last moments should have been rendered so unhappy; and it will readily be believed that the death of so interesting a bird was sincerely regretted. Tears were shed for his loss, and an honourable place of sepulchre appointed for him, at the foot of a cedar on the lawn. For my chair the warm corner hast found; And told my dull ear what the visitor said, When I saw that the laughter went round. Thou hast succour'd me still, and my meaning express'd, When memory was lost on its way; Thou hast pillow'd my head when I laid it to rest; O Kathleen, my love, thou couldst choose the good part, Go now to thy Dermot, be clasp'd to his heart He merits the love he has won. Be duteous and tender to him as to me; Look up to the Mercy-seat then; And passing this shadow of death which I see, Come, come to my arms back again. Professor Smyth. THE STORM. SOFT be thy sleep, my darling child, To guard His children from all ill. From the German Fest Kalender; by J. M. (1) See Engraving, page 353. 66 What, have you a son?" "What is your name?" guess." 66 Street." -'s house?" "No. It "Is your wife alive?" "No, she is dead, I guess." "Did she die slick right away?" "No, not by any manner of means." "How long have you been married?" "Thirty years, I guess." What age were you when you were married?" "I guess mighty near thirty-three." "If you were young again, I guess you would marry earlier?" "No; I guess thirty-three is a mighty grand age for marrying." "How old is your daughter?" "Twenty-five." "I guess she would like a husband?" "No; she is mighty careless about that." "No; I guess She is not awful (ugly), I guess?" she is not." CRUELTY to dumb animals is one of the distinguishing vices of the lowest and basest of the people. Wherever it is found, it is a certain mark of ignorance and meauness; an intrinsic mark, which all the external advantages of wealth, splendour, and nobility cannot obliterate. It will consist neither with true learning nor truc civility; and religion disclaims and detests it as an insult upon the majesty and the goodness of God, who having made the instincts of brute beasts minister to the improvement of the mind, as well as to the convenience of the body, hath furnished us with a motive to mercy and compassion toward them very strong and powerful, but too refined to have any influence on the illiterate or irreligious.-JONES of Nayland. No. 24.] London Magazine: A JOURNAL OF ENTERTAINMENT AND INSTRUCTION FOR GENERAL READING. THE MILLER'S NIECE. A STORY OF CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. It is not without a purpose that we translate the facts upon which the following strange story is founded, out of the dry records of legal processes into a more popular style. As, however, we have no wish to surround the facts of the tale with an array of fictitious decoration, in order to fill a given number of pages, we shall throw aside all the devices of romantic narrative, and relate a singular case of circumstantial evidence in a very simple way. Near to the town of C (now a flourishing place of manufacture), in Yorkshire, there lived, in the last century, an old bachelor, who had thriven well as a miller. His name was John Smith; but he was generally known in his neighbourhood only by the title of " Old Johnny." He was a man of, at least, average honesty, not ill-disposed, very illiterate, and wholly devoted to worldly gain. Old Johnny was never seen at church his mill was his place of worship. He was a sincere money-worshipper; and never attempted to disguise the fact by contributions to any charities or religious institutions. He considered it to be man's business to get money and to keep it; and, if any one failed to do so, he regarded him as an unfortunate fellow or a simpleton. He said he could understand why the parson troubled himself about religion; it was his business, and every man ought to mind his business : but what had other people to do with it? This is almost all that we can learn of his character; but it is only fair to his memory to add, that some of the evidence before us shows that he could be sometimes kind to a neighbour, and that he was a good master. In person he was tall, stout, and good-looking. The house in which he lived was situated close behind his mill, on the bank of the river which flows at the foot of the hill on which the town is built. On that side of the stream, in Old Johnny's time, there were no other houses; but, within a stone-throw of his mill, on the side of the river nearer the town, there was a collection of cottages known by the name of Fording-place, and noted as a resort for vagabonds. About half a mile further up the river, there was a respectable house inhabited by Stephen Bracewell, an attorney, and his only son Richard, who belonged to the same profession. But to return to Old Johnny's house it was one of those substantial stone-built farmhouses, with a large porch, low windows, and stone floors, which are still to be seen in many of the rural districts of Yorkshire and Lancashire. Within all was clean and bright, and bore witness to the fact, that though Old Johnny had never considered matrimony a profitable |