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TO A WOUNDED SINGING BIRD.

BY BARRY CORNWALL.

POOR Singer! hath the fowler's gun,
Or the sharp winter done thee harm?

We'll lay thee gently in the sun,

And breathe on thee and keep thee warm; Perhaps some human kindness still

May make amends for human ill.

We'll take thee in, and nurse thee well,
And save thee from the winter wild,
Till summer fall on field and fell,

And thou shalt be our feathered child; ·
And tell us all thy pain and wrong
When thou again canst speak in song.

Fear not nor tremble, little bird,
We'll use thee kindly now,

And sure there's in a friendly word

An accent even thou shouldst know: For kindness which the heart doth teach, Disdaineth all peculiar speech.

'Tis common to the bird and brute,

To fallen man, to angel bright; And sweeter 't is than lonely lute Heard in the air at night: Divine and universal tongue, Whether by bird or spirit sung.

But hark! is that a sound we hear
Come chirping from its throat,
Faint, short, but weak, and very clear,
And like a little grateful note?

Another? ha! look where it lies,

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'Tis dead, 't is dead! and all our care Is useless. Now, in vain

The mother's woe doth pierce the air,
Calling her nestling bird again!

All 's vain, the singer's heart is cold,
Its eye is dim

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- its fortune told !

THE BECHUANA BOΥ.

BY THOMAS PRINGLE.

The chief incidents of this little tale were related to the author by an African boy, whom he first met with near the borders of the Great Karroo or Arid Desert. The expression of the orphan stranger, when asked about his kindred, was literally (as translated by him into broken Dutch)-"Ik jben alleenig in de waereld!" i. e. "I am all alone in the world!" A few slight circumstances, characteristic of the country, are almost all that has been added to poor Marossi's affecting narrative.

The system of outrage and oppression of which this story exhibits a specimen, has been ably developed by the Rev. Dr. Philip, in his "Researches in South Africa."

The following terms perhaps require explanation for general readers:

Bergenaars Mountaineers, a marauding horde of Griqua or Mulatto lineage, inhabiting the skirts of the Stormberg mountains, beyond the north-eastern frontier of the Cape Colony.

Bushman. A wild Hottentot.

Gareep Native name of the great Orange River.

Springbok - Antilope Pygarga or Euchore.

Wild-dog -Wilde-hond of the Colonists- Hyæna Venatica.

Sea-Cow, or Zeekoe-The Colonial term for the Hippopotamus.
Utika, i. e. Beautiful - The Supreme Spirit.

I SAT at noon-tide in my tent,

And looked across the Desert dun,
That 'neath the cloudless firmament
Lay gleaming in the sun,

When from the bosom of the waste
A swarthy stripling came in haste,
With foot unshod and naked limb,
And a tame springbok following him.

He came with open aspect bland,
And modestly before me stood,
Caressing with a kindly hand

That fawn of gentle brood;
Then, meekly gazing in my face,
Said in the language of his race,
With smiling look, yet pensive tone,
"Stranger, I'm in the world alone!"

"Poor boy," I said, "thy kindred's home,
Beyond far Stormberg's ridges blue,
Why hast thou left so young, to roam
This desolate Karroo?"

The smile forsook him while I spoke ;
And when again he silence broke,
It was with many a stifled sigh
He told this strange sad history.

"I have no kindred!" said the boy :
"The Bergenaars, by night they came,
And raised their murder-shout of joy,
While o'er our huts the flame
Rushed like a torrent; and their yell
Pealed louder as our warriors fell
In helpless heaps beneath their shot,
One living man they left us not!

"The slaughter o'er, they gave the slain

To feast the foul-beaked birds of prey; And with our herds across the plain

They hurried us away—

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