and the green disks of the lily-pads will straightway embroider themselves together above him for his coverlet. He never quarrels with his cook, he is not the slave of a kitchen, and his one housemaid- the stream-forever sweeps his chambers clean. His parks and his pleasure-grounds are larger than any king's. Upon my saurian's house the winds have no power, the rains are only a new delight to him, and the snows he will never see. Regarding fire, as he does not use it as a slave, so he does not fear it as a tyrant. Thus all the elements are the friends of my alligator's house. While he sleeps he is being bathed. What glory to awake sweetened and freshened by the sole, careless act of sleep! Lastly, my saurian has unnumbered mansions, and can change his dwelling as no human householder may; it is but a flip of his tail and lo! he is established in another place as good as the last, ready furnished to his liking. On and on up the river! We find it a river without banks. The swift, deep current meanders between tall lines of trees; beyond these, on either side, there is water also a thousand shallow rivulets lapsing past the bases of a multitude of trees. Along the edges of the stream every tree-trunk, sapling, and stump is wrapped about with a close-growing vine. The edges of the stream are also defined by flowers and water-leaves. The tall, blue flags, the ineffable lilies sitting on their round lily-pads like white queens on green thrones, the tiny stars and long ribbons of the watergrasses all these border the river in an infinite variety of adornment. And now, after this day of glory, came a night of glory. Deep down in these shaded lanes it was dark indeed as the night drew on. The stream, which had been all day a girdle of beauty, blue or green, now became a black band of mystery. But presently a brilliant flame flares out overhead: they have lighted the pine-knots on the top of the pilot-house. The fire advances up these dark windings like a brilliant god. The startled birds suddenly flutter into the light and after an instant of illuminated flight melt into the darkness. From the perfect silence of these short flights one derives a certain sense of awe. Now there is a mighty crack and crash; limbs and leaves scrape and scrub along the deck; a little bell tinkles; we stop. In turning a short curve, the boat has run her nose smack into the right bank, and a projecting stump has thrust itself sheer through the starboard side. Out, Dick! Out, Henry! Dick and Henry shuffle forward to the bow, thrust forth their long white pole against a tree-trunk, strain and push and bend to the deck. Our bow slowly rounds into the stream, the wheel turns, and we puff quietly along. And now it is bedtime. Let me tell you how to sleep on an Ocklawaha steamer in May. With a small bribe persuade Jim, the steward, to take the mattress out of your berth and lay it slanting just along the railing that encloses the lower part of the deck in front and to the left of the pilot-house. Lie flat on your back down on the mattress, draw your blanket over you, put your cap on your head, on account of the night air, fold your arms, and fall asleep with a star looking right down on your eye. When you wake in the morning you will feel as new as Adam. Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin Arise, Arise! - SHAKESPEARE. THE TENT SCENE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE Cassius. That you have wronged me doth appear in this: You have condemned and noted Lucius Pella, For taking bribes here of the Sardians; Wherein, my letters (praying on his side, Because I knew the man) were slighted off. Brutus. You wronged yourself, to write in such a case. Cas. At such a time as this, it is not meet That every nice offence should bear its comment. Bru. Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself Are much condemned to have an itching palm; To sell and mart your offices for gold, To undeservers. Cas. I an itching palm? You know that you are Brutus that speak this, |