morning as your Uncle David is expected to be at the mouth of the river this very evening!'

This, then, accounted for my aunt's good-humour, and her slight reproof to me; and indeed I was almost as delighted to hear of it as she was, for I longed to see him again, and the very thought seemed to rouse me as effectually from all my wandering visions and dreams, as a bucket of cold water would perhaps have done too.

The rest of that pleasant day passed quickly enough, in a sort of agreeable bustle to get everything in what my aunt called 'apple-pie order for her old man.' The oven reeked with savoury odours, and every chair and table, somewhat needlessly, received a sort of extra rub up in honour of the occasion; and while I was out in the market haggling to get all the flowers I could for my few pence to decorate the rooms with, my aunt was occupied in putting on her silk gown and lace collar, I saw on my return.

as

And there the splendour of the waves discern;
Cast but a stone, or strike them with an oar,
And you shall flames within the deep explore;
Or scoop the stream phosphoric as you
stand,
And the cold flames shall flash along your hand;
When, lost in wonder, you shall walk and gaze
On weeds that sparkle, and on waves that blaze.'
CRABBE.

UR pleasant labours were closed early in the afternoon, and, after an early tea, my

aunt and I went down to the quay, and took our seat in one of the pilot boats which were just putting off with the tide to meet the expected

vessels. Strong arms soon pulled us up the comparatively calm river, although now it was filling fast with the rising tide, and consequently set against us. But we had now pulled out more than a mile and a half, when, as we rounded the only turn in the river, we descried my uncle's ship gliding in with a fair wind, and the tide in her favour, a tall bank of earth having hitherto concealed her from our sight.

In spite of my aunt's matter-of-fact, placid exterior, she had the warm place right in her heart, and showed it, somewhat quaintly it is true, but very really, as she scrambled hastily up the side of the brig, and met her old Davy with a hug that would have done credit to a she-bear! Dear old Uncle David, he was looking as brown and ruddy as a late pear; and although somewhat more weatherbeaten than before, was his own kind self, as he hastily embraced his wife, and then coming over to me, checked my welcome, to my surprise, and saying, 'No, my dear, your first words is due here,' turned me over to a dark, tall man, whose kind words, 'Thusie, my dear!' and his warm clasp, then enlightened my bewildered senses that this was my father, long expected, and come at last. The dusky light, and the surprise at the first moment, had sent my senses flying; but when I collected them a little,

I realized at last that he had come home, though he was altered, darker and thinner, and more broken down than when I remembered him last.

I can look back now on that memorable evening, although at the time it seemed more like a dream than a reality, and recall the joy of that meeting, tempered as it was by the bitter sense of my dear mother being wanting to share it, which I could see caused my father most acute suffering. My aunt and uncle had enough to talk about, and kindly left us alone; and so my father sat down at the vessel's side with his arm round me, and told me how it was that he came here, and in this manner,—how his vessel was bound for Liverpool, and that he had left her there after unloading, and made his way to London, meaning to get a passage in some vessel in the Thames bound for Brackleigh; that by mere chance he had come across Uncle David, and gladly accompanied him.

'And so you are all that is left me, Thusie,' said he, fondly stroking down my hair; 'and you have grown so like your mother, child!'

'Have I, father?' replied I, very delighted. 'Oh, how glad I am! She told me to be a good girl, and a comfort to you, and I will try and do my best.' sure you will,' interrupted my father, hastily; 'you shall tell me all about everything

'I am

when we go to the cottage. But surely we are near the harbour now.'

And so we were, close to the quay; for in all the excitement of asking and answering questions I had not heeded what swift progress we made up the river, till now the little town, where even already a few lights were beginning to sparkle out, lay before us. We were speedily on shore, and in the house, which seemed to shed a cheery smile on the tired travellers, from its gleaming lights and fire.

My uncle and aunt would not hear of our leaving them, and insisted on my father's resting quietly there the first day after his return, which he did; and which passed pleasantly enough to me, busied as I was in examining all the treasures of foreign curiosities he had collected for me. Nor was I much less delighted with Uncle David's gift, a beautiful talking parrot, who spoke many pretty sounding syllables which I could not understand, but which he told me were good Spanish words; adding, that I must teach him English myself, if I wanted him to speak anything but that outlandish lingo.

The next day, provided with plenty of provision for our day's absence, my father and I set off for the old house by the sea. On our way, my father made me tell him as minutely as I could every little circumstance of my mother's illness, telling