regaled, I remember seeing a pile of carcases of small, half-starved sheep, at the commissary's bivouac in the Pyrenees. These were to be served out to the troops; and such was their extremity of leanness, that, at night, a candle placed inside of one of them, made an excellent lantern, for the skinny covering of the ribs offered no impediment to the light. THE ACTION OF THE PYRENEES. On the morning before we advanced, on going over the ground we had fought on the day before, we found a gallant old soldier, named Bartlet, who had been shot dead in the act of firing his piece. The firelock was still at the " present," and so firm was his dying grasp that it was with difficulty taken from his hands. I was much distressed to find lying near him a fine handsome boy, a drummer of my old grenadier company, named Lawler. He had taken the firelock of a wound. ed man, who was sent to the rear, and went out, (as I afterwards learnt he said,) to amuse himself with a bit of skirmishing. The brave boy's "amusement" ended fatally for him. Neither difficulty, nor danger, nor privation, could check the everbuoyant and indomitable spirits of Lieutenant Blakeny of our regiment. I heard him, poor fellow half laughing and half crying, quizzing the doctor, who was carefully setting his shattered leg. Captain Sherer of the 34th commanded the rock-picket on the morning of the action. It was a post of some consequence to check the enemy's advance. Sherer defended it most nobly. All his brave fellows were either killed or disabled, and he was left nearly alone. It was only then, that, finding himself surrounded by the enemy, he advanced towards the nearest French officer, and with a polite bow, worthy of the times of the ancien regime, surrendered his sword, and the post he had so gallantly defended, and was made prisoner. THE ADVANTAGE OF HAVING A SPORTING TASTE.-When we were on the heights of Aldendes in November 1813, many of us were obliged to sleep under canvass. I was much better off than most of my comrades in that bitter time; my bed was a bear-skin stuffed with fern (the bear, I beg to state, was the victim of my own prowess); on each side of, and close to me, was a well-fed greyhound; a fat Spanish pointer crouched at my feet, and my little terrier was stowed away under the blanket. In this fashion I managed to live through a November night under a tent in the Pyrenees. To be continued. ANACREON MADE EASY. Ερως ποτ' εν ροδοισι. YOUNG Cupid one morn in a bower A rose of great beauty had found; He was stung by a bee in the flower, And began to give tongue like a hound. He flutter'd to Mammy in haste, "Oh, look at my finger, Ma! see How it's swell'd I've been stung by a baste, Says she, "Now be aisy, my jewel, If the sting of a Bee gives such smart, BULLER, Jun. WALTER CHILDE. BY MR. BULLER OF BRAZEN NOSE. CANTO V. I ONCE was guilty of a certain tract On verse-craft in a crack Encyclopedie, And therefore am more bound to be exact In all set rules, or people may be ready And may have read the thing,) to cry out, "Heyday! "There's nought so stupid as two lovers, quite But true; the old fastidious Scot is right; For which good cause, ev'n that kind-hearted bard, Let's see." In visions of romantic youth, What years of endless bliss are yet to flow! The torrent's smoothness, ere it dash below!"† Albeit, at present I may claim a smile Of Sympathy from man, or maid, or wife, Of his past course through waves of toil and strife, In plain round prose, what man of twenty-eight, With the worst, cheapest stumbling hacks on earth, The "besoin d'aimer," like a sense of dearth, Had not felt glorious as the gods above, Well horsed, and petted by his lady-love? And such a love! her heart for years seal'd down, For his own opening touch, and his alone; With birth and means, (which none at heart disdain,) A second self, adopting as her own His every crotchet, and divining plain • Each thought that be had felt since he was born; As fond as Juliet, and as fair as morn. *See Adam Smith's " Theory of moral Sentiments," vol, i. p. 66. + See Gertrude of Wyoming, Part III, stanza 5. Not that she quite engross'd his every thought; Betokening wind and bottom good at need, No wonder if a spark of martial pride Her beauty at sword-point, (but he saw "Sound boot and saddle; let me lift you onNow for black Rupert-perfect every joint— Soho, boy! paces like a paragon Now, Isolde, for your secret,-your grand pointNo Paladin from Paynim ever won A nobler desert Arab; but aroynt, Ye visions in my leaguer days so dear; Grave John o' the Scales must think of other gear. "He minds me of my gallant Bevis so, 66 Why, we had fighting plenty, and to spare; Battles are much alike." So long ago, That you forgot you took a standard there, And Wilmot, as a little bird reveal'd, Made you full-captain on the battle-field." "Why, who on earth could tell you ?"—" Our Friend Forde, Your father confessor-he comes to-night." "Well, now for the grand secret which you stored." 66 Remember, sir, you put me in a fright: Think how at first Elizabeth abhor'd Poor unknown Isolde: you shall glut my spite "I bought your father's land, and the old hall." 64 Dear thoughtful creature, more than ever dear!" To compass it unmortgaged; Catherine here Lent fifteen thousand. You must work and slave, "Work! save! redeem it!-give me but employ, I could move mountains. Rupert, sir, how now ?" "You stuck the spurs too sharply in for joy; "Did I e'er tell you he was disinherited For turning out a bitter cavalier Like you and me? it was hard, perhaps unmerited; How well that dear horse goes! so free and spirited! He may be bought, and you will need a horse. 'I'm in a mazy fairy land," said he. "How came the place into your hands and when ?” "It was for sale in my minority. My aunt, who had a business-head like men, To reach her she was Catherine's guardian then, "Your hint? I shall believe Kate's laughing taunt Sat sweetly dozing, as you pictured there The hazle copse, the downs so free and fair- "Walter, where went you when the wars were don "To Utrecht straight. I studied at the place For a whole year." "Our letters said that none Bearing your name had ever made resort, So far as known, to Charles' exiled court. "Then, too, at Worcester,-sure you fought not the "I dwelt in town, wed to my new vocation, And lack'd the means, still more the inclination, "The Wogans, ever last in the retreat, And first in onset (Vaughan was the real name); 'No' is soon said to selfish wants, for sweet Is independence, and 'tis all the same Next morning; but when men like these entreat, Judgment must wage hard battle with false shame; I own 'twas something to be call'd a trial, To give such friends a calm and firm denial. "Her early disappointment, though it sour'd Her outward manners, ne'er at heart unsex'd her; Catherine, on whom advantages were shower'd From childhood, often with wild glee perplex'd her. Me she was pleased to call more staid and toward : I trust that wilfully I never vex'd her; And she gave way to me in the one thing In which she styled me obstinate, your ring. "Her heart was won by your attentions, shown |