He flings his "kit" whene'er he wills And off by streams and woods and hills Where late the hare was seated, Sometimes in homes of men he bides But little hurt or harm does he, Yet often, while he works and sings, And grasps his neck, and, with a curse, Come hand me here your fairy purse Right onward moves the little man, A thousand sounds rise in his rear, Now rushing on with trampling sound He knows for whom they're keening! At last they reach a weed-grown field, ""Tis here the treasure lies concealed," The gold's beneath this very stalk The peasant's pulses madly beat, His brain is wild with pleasure What, here!" he cries, "beneath my feet The heap of shining treasure! Here, here, beneath this dark brown mould, That brimming pot of blazing gold- Oh, cruel, now to be delayed, I'll travel quickly through the night But first, to mark this precious spot, Back through the gloom the peasant hies, He reaches soon his cabin door, With tools in hand, he's off once more, They say these things are never true, He'll evermore be glad to see And help his good old neighbours. When rents are tight, and markets slack, Then oft, to help him o'er his loss, His own colleen-upon his life Pale, thin, and cold, what would they be But for their silks and laces? But wait till Mary, plump and red, Deck'd out with leaf and berry! Has round her neck, that 's white as milk, With groundsel stalks!-good gracious Oh, if he had another hold Óf that old villain's wizen, He'd keep it till he'd got the gold But who could delve to holes and grooves In midnight hours, when no one moves And who, while shines the noon-day sun Could labour there and bear the fun He journeys homeward, sad at heart, Why does he stop to listen? What makes him stamp and threat and start What bids his eye-balls glisten ?- He hears that thief, the cluricaune, Far off amidst the heather, A-singing of the cruiskeen lawn, A KING FOR AN HOUR. I. THEODORE OF CORSICA.-CONCLUSION. By one of those curious chains, of which a couple of very old men might hold the links, all this episode might be linked to our own times. But there is a yet nearer association. This adventurous king's son used to call himself, long after, half jestingly, "Prince of Caprera,' ," but did not think there would be a later Prince of Caprera of a certain mark, who should be of his blood. Among those who had gone to offer the island to Theodore was a certain Joseph Battista Mira, whom the King, shortly after he was established, sent away with a letter to his mother, who was still alive, at a place called Peddenhole, close to Ruggeberg in La Marck. Here he not only saw the mother but also a sister of Theodore's, called "Catherine Amelie;" with her he fell in love, and, writing for Theodore's consent, married her. The quasi royal condition on the one side, and the sense of gratitude for services received on the other, were the inducements. Later on, Joseph Battista and his wife came to Ajaccio, and finally, on the fall of their relative, settled at Nice, where the husband became a doctor. So far, these are trifling facts; but it is more important to learn, that a registry was lately discovered at Ruggeberg, by which it appeared that the Doctor had a son, and that son another son, who was the father of Joseph Garibaldi-at present certainly a Prince of Caprera in all but the title. The oddity of the whole is this, that as the crown of Corsica was settled on Theodore and his direct heirs, the soldier of Caprera is really now a sort of King in Posse, and has a good cause of action, whenever the little island shall be enabled to declare or any itself free by a "Plebiscite' other of the ingenious modes now in fashion. News came to Genoa that the rebels were divided among themselves, and had actually broken up into three parties. There was one for the Republic; a second, headed by Astelli, Rafaelli, and others, were for a Republic, while Giafferi and the rest remained faithful to Theodore. It was previously heard that the King "his extraordinary majesty," as he was jocularly styled in the foreign letters-had taken a short way with these malcontents and had arrested Raffaelli and Antelli, and put them in prison. A sort of disgust had been excited by the non-arrival of the promised foreign aid. They mistrusted Theodore's sham packets and telescopes. But they were still more alienated on account of an act of rough-and-ready justice on their king's part, towards a certain Casacolli, who had been pardoned, but who was detected intriguing with the Genoese. He had him summarily shot. This caused yet louder murmurs. It produced, too, a sort of disorganization. A certain Colonel Arrichi up at Foriani-a sort of mountain fastness-had carelessly left it in charge of only twenty soldiers, which coming to the knowledge of the enemy, they attacked it, and, after a desperate resistance, succeeded in carrying it. The commander had some five hundred men for the defence, which he had criminally or carelessly withdrawn to another quarter. Furious at the loss, Theodore hurried up from Monte Maggiore, to punish this colonel; but the latter wisely fled to Reno, when Theodore was said to have taken a barbarous and savage vengeance. He fired his See a communication to, the Athenæum, in 1860, which is given on the authority of a Rhine Paper." As a corroboration, I find in an old French memoir, this brother-inlaw of Theodore's set down as Sinabaldi, which is very like Garibaldi. There is no reason to doubt the statement, especially as mere fabricated lineage would aim at a higher person than a mere adventurer like Theodore, |