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AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A BASKET.

THERE are so many great people who have written their autobiography, and related in their own words the history of their birth, parentage, and education, that, although a very humble member of society, I do not see why I should not follow their good example; and, doubtless, the story of many domestic articles of common use would be curious and interesting enough, if they were all told from their beginning. And mine is not the least honourable lineage; for I can trace my descent from the early Britons, long before the Conqueror invaded these shores.

The ancient inhabitants of this sea-girded island excelled in the art of weaving baskets; and rude as were their manners and habits, ornamental baskets, called in the Latin tongue, "bascandæ," were one of their few refined

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manufactures. These were so daintily and gracefully woven, that the handiwork of the poor half-savage woman, who lived in a hovel built of bushes and earth, and whose principal adornment consisted in painting her body with the dye of the woad, was coveted and purchased by the high-born Roman lady, clad in purple and fine linen. They were carried over to Rome, and sold for good prices there, even as we of the present time would eagerly buy the baskets formed of bark, and worked so delicately with stained porcupine quills by the Canadian Indians.

Had I space to enter more fully on the subject, it would be as curious a change as the butterfly from the caterpillar, to trace the progress of the osiers under the deft fingers of the poor uncivilised savage, half clad in the skins of the wolf or bear, killed in the chase, till the time when completed, and perhaps dyed with the juices of plants and herbs, the basket held an honourable place in the luxurious apartment of some patrician Augusta or Julia.

Why, the progenitor of the great British wooden walls, known and feared

"As far as winds can blow,

Or flowing sail upon the globe may go,"

was a relative of mine. The osier coracle danced on the friths and estuaries of wild England long ere the keel of a Roman galley was laid.

In ancient times, an ancestor of mine originated what is called the graceful Corinthian capital, which you may see adorning the columns and pillars of public buildings; and the story of it is so pretty, I must tell it to you before I go on with my own story.

A little infant, dearly and tenderly beloved by its parents, fell sick, and, after many anxious nights and days of watching and nursing, died. The poor mother, whose deep sorrow for her little one refused to be consoled, wept sorely for it; and after its cold mortal clay was buried from her eyes, she tended its grave, and planted fragrant flowers and shrubs around it. She was but a poor woman, and had no gold or silver, or

costly marble, to mark the spot where her dear one lay, so she placed a basket, full of her darling's toys-now her most prized treasures

all her wealth rich with remembrances-on the spot, and covered it with a large square tile, to protect it from the birds. And, meanwhile, the kind and fruitful earth, which gives forth so prodigally both flower and fruit, sent up from the roots below a graceful plant, called an acanthus, with deeply indented leaves and elegant growth. This sprang up around the basket and the tile, and was so graceful and lovely, like all things in nature, that the artists of those days copied its beauty, and gave it an endless fame.

If I had more time, I could tell you of the varied purposes and histories of many of our race as the quaint basket-work shields, covered with skins, and the ancient wattled church at Glastonbury, one of the earliest in England; but this would take up too much time, and would prevent me from entering on my own personal history. And so to begin at the beginning.

My first appearance in this world was in the shape of slender green osiers. On a pretty little "ait," or island, in the middle of a clear stream, was a nice osier plantation, renowned for the excellence of its plants. Nowhere else were they so plentiful, or so straight and well grown, as in this favoured spot. It was a very pleasant place, shaded by a few trees; while the quiet river went gently murmuring by. We were a very lively and select society in Osier Holt, I can tell you, and had our amusements and dissipations like other people. We had, during the season, charming daily concerts, at which Miss Pettichaps and Mr. Blackcap poured forth their delightful strains; while the gifted family of the Sedge Warblers treated us to their clever imitations of foreign and native vocalists. Then, by way of varying the entertainment, the Titmice would perform some of their amusing feats of tumbling and climbing, twisting their lithe and slender bodies about in the most wonderful way, and hanging head downwards, till it made you giddy to look at them. We also formed the