manage to cover himself, he asked, when his shirt and trousers were worn to tatters? The necessity of the case suggested an expedient.

He manufactured a kind of cloth out of the thread-like substance of the interior of the palm, which he wove together as well as he was able. It was not a first-rate production, but it served at all events to prevent the sun from scorching, and the night air from chilling him, and then he had the ineffable satisfaction of admiring his own handiwork. He managed also to fabricate a pair of sandals out of the ropy bark of the cocoa-nut tree.

In this primitive costume he determined upon examining the island thoroughly. The task was not difficult, for Providence is little more than two leagues in circumference, and the surface is nearly level. About one-third of it, the part which lies to windward, is covered with a forest of cocoa-nut. The currents and the prevailing winds have cast innumerable seeds on the eastern shore, where they have germinated, taken root, and in the lapse of ages created the forest we speak of. The remainder of the island is merely a sandy plain, with stunted shrubs scattered here and there; but little grass, and what there is, coarse in touch, and salt to the taste. A more desolate spot altogether can hardly be ima

gined; but here it seemed probable that M. Cremasy was destined to end his days. Deliverance came, however, when he least expected it.

He was one evening returning from his ajoupa in a very pensive mood, absorbed in thoughts of the home he feared he should never revisit, when, as he stopped to gather some shell-fish for his supper, he fancied that something like the sails of a ship glittered on the horizon in the rays of the setting sun. He had been so often deceived by clouds which assumed the same form, that he was afraid to trust to his first impression. He watched the object steadily, and noted that, while the aspect of everything else changed, this alone preserved its first appearance, and, moreover, that it was nearing the island. He could no longer doubt that it was a ship. His heart beat high between fear and hope. Was it his own vessel or a stranger? Should he at once light the beacon, at the risk of rapidly, and perhaps uselessly, consuming what it had given him so much trouble to collect? But the sail drew closer. He resolved to take his chance, and the moment it became dark enough for his purpose, he set fire to the pile. A pyramid of flame shot up into the sky, and a minute afterwards the report of a gun assured him that the signal had been seen. He now listened

intently, and the next sound that reached his ears was the noise of the oars in the row-locks, as with measured beat they urged a boat to the shore. The keel grated on the rocky bottom; but he had already hailed the crew, and in the joyous answer that floated over the waves he heard his own language, and recognised the voices of his shipmates. The vessel in the offing was his own, and the mate had come back to look for him. Carried away by the violent currents, and water and provisions failing, the former had been obliged to make for Anjouan, near Magotte, to victual the ship; he then returned in search of his captain.

coast.

The exile wrote the history of his thirty-two days' imprisonment, and placed it in a bottle, which he hung on one of the most prominent trees on the An English vessel passing by a few months since happened to send a boat on shore for a supply of cocoa-nuts, and thus discovered the narrative. The sailors also found that the island was overrun with wild poultry; for when M. Cremasy took leave of Providence he left behind him a small stock, which multiplied as he had desired. It was an offering of grateful remembrance for the mercy which had spared him.

CRUELTY OF HINDOO PARENTS. YET is it too true that "the dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty." Mr. Clarkson, a Missionary, in a pretty little book just published, and called "Missionary Encouragements in India," says, on the subject of infanticide:

"Parents finding the means of marrying their girls so restricted, got rid of the female children at their birth, either by plunging the head in milk, or administering a small portion of opium. When our native teachers, in the houses of these people, charged them with the crime, it was not denied. I affirmed it in preaching, and it was admitted. Whilst I was living there, a girl of eight or ten years of age was taken ill. Gungárám offered to give medicine, but his offer was rejected. The girl died in a few hours, and the body was soon burnt to ashes. It was commonly understood that the girl had died of opium, administered by her parents, to obviate by her death the expense of her marriage."

Now should you not, all of you who read this, especially you little girls, be very thankful that you were not born in such a land? Let us join to send them the Bible to teach them better.

* Snow, London.

THE DRAGON FLY.

MOST of you have, during your summer walks, seen the beautiful insect of which this is an engraving. A very common name for the dragon-fly in the country is the horse-stinger;

as it is ignorantly supposed to have the power of stinging, and is therefore dangerous to meddle with ; but this is a mistake, for any person wishing to examine it may handle it without any danger.

As some of your young readers may not know of this curious insect, either from personal observation or by reading books, a short sketch is here given.

The Linnæan name of the order of insects to which the dragon-fly belongs is neuroptera, taken from two Greek words, signifying nerve-winged. This name is very expressive, the wings of the dragon-fly being very prominent and fully answering to such a description. They appear as if made from very fine gauze, intersected closely with nerves, or membranes, which give them strength for flight.