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two, then knelt again and kissed his forehead. “ Who is that?” said Nelson; and being informed, he replied, “ God bless you, Hardy." And Hardy then left him for ever. Soon after he breathed his last.
Southey's “ Life of Nelson.”
60.-HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD
NEWS FROM GHENT TO AIX.
sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he ; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three; “Good speed !” cried the watch, as the gate-bolts
undrew; Speed," echoed the wall to us galloping through; Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, And into the midnight we galloped abreast.
Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing
our place; I turned in my saddle, and made its girths tight, Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique
right, Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chained slacker the
bit, Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit.
'Twas moon-set at starting ; but while we drew
Lokeren the cocks crew, and twilight dawned
At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see;
half-chime; So Joris broke silence with,“ Yet there is time!”
At Aerschot, up leaped of a sudden the sun,
And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear
bent back For my voice, and the other pricked out on his
track; And one eye's black intelligence,-ever that glance O’er its white edge at me, his own master,
askance! And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and
His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on.
By Hasselt, Dirck groaned; and cried Joris, “Stay
Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault's not in her ; We 'll remember at Aix!”—for one heard the quick
wheeze Of her chest, saw the stretched neck, and stagger
ing knees, And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank, As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank.
So we were left galloping, Joris and I,
like chaff; Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white, And“Gallop,” cried Joris, "for Aix is in sight!
“ How they ’ll greet us !” and all in a moment
his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone ; And there was my Roland to bear the whole
weight Of the news which alone could save Aix from her
fate, With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the
brim, And with circles of blood for his eye-sockets' rim.
Then I cast my loose buff-coat, each holster let
fall, Shook off both my jackboots, let go belt and all, Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear, Called my Roland his pet name, my horse, without Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise
bad or good, Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood.
And all I remember is, friends flocking round
ground; And no voice but was praising this Roland of
mine, As I poured down his throat our last measure of
wine, Which (the burgesses voted by common consent) Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent,
The British seas are wonderfully rich in food produce, and, from our inborn love of the ocean, flourishing fisheries might be looked for ; but, relatively to other branches of industry, these have been languidly pursued.
The staple fishery of the United Kingdom is that of herrings, shoals of which, at the season of spawning, crowd the inlets and bays of Great Britain and Ireland. Of the English fishingstations, Yarmouth possesses the greatest celebrity for its semi-smoked and salted bloaters, everywhere esteemed. From Yarmouth to the Shetlands fleets of herring-boats ply their nets, every town on the coast being more or less employed in the capture and curing of this important fish. The Scotch herrings are larger and higher dried than those of Yarmouth. The chief fishingstation, probably in the United Kingdom, is Wick, within a few miles of John o' Groat's. Peterhead and Fraserburgh are likewise places of great resort for curing herrings. The Scottish fisheries generally are prosecuted with energy in every firth and loch, as well as in the channels of the northern and western islands. The Irish fisheries, on the other hand, have thriven least. Some of the most considerable are on the Nymph Bank, south of Waterford; but the produce is principally taken to English ports, while salted herrings are obtained from Scotland.
Pilchards, allied to the herring, are taken chiefly during September and October. They are found in all the creeks of Ireland, and off the coasts of Devon and Cornwall. These fisheries fall but little short of the importance of that of Yarmouth yet while herrings are the frequent frugal meal of the London poor, pilchards are hardly known to them, and are only seen when a few stray catches are used as prize sprats to embellish the fishmonger's silvery heaps. Many thousand hogsheads of pilchards are exported to the Mediterranean, whence we get the closely-related anchovy and sardine, the interchange adding to the variety of