dressed in the habiliments of our lifeguardsmen, I imagine they would be nearly about the same stature as this distinguished corps of our army. Some few may be a little taller, but I have not heard of any being the height of six feet and a-half; although Falkner has, in his book, spoken of one who, he says, 'must have been seven feet and some inches in height, because on tiptoe he could not reach the top of his head.' From all I have gleaned concerning them, they are far from being a contemptible race either in intellect or morale: but their principal occupation is to roam about from the Rio Negro, on the confines of the Buenos Ayrean territories, to the Straits of Magellan, and it is not always that ships can fall in with them. Numerous and pleasing anecdotes relating to these savages, as well as other tales not so agreeable, have been told me; but I never like to repeat any stories unless certain of their authenticity. What I think may be depended upon is in substance as follows:

The Patagonians are naturally a race of wild hunters, living more on horseback than on foot, and are as skilful in pursuit of game as the far-famed Indians of North America. Living on a barren soil, flesh is their principal food, and the quantity they eat is said to be enormous. Polygamy is practised, and thieving held in such estimation as to form a consideration in the necessary qualifications of the intended husband, who is looked upon as indifferently capable of supporting a wife unless he is an adept in the art of stealing from a stranger. Their government is in a great measure nominal, being under the rule of caciques or chiefs who have attained a certain degree of notoriety, but whose power is soon lessened unless they can maintain the influence which first gave them the title. Their tents are made of poles and the skins of guanacoes, and are generally carried about with them as they move from place to place. They dress in long mantles made of skins, covering them from head to foot, and this gives them a singular and somewhat forbidding appearance. They have a great liking for tobacco and spirits; and, as I have been often told, adhere strictly to truth. A lie with them is held in detestation; and I believe that no man would be in any real danger amongst them (and I may say the same of nearly every savage) who would put on a bold

front, and never try to deceive. Several Europeans have been known to live for years amongst them; and Mr Havers of Stanley told me that he has a Patagonian in his service, who is not only to be depended upon, but is really most useful; his principal and almost only failing being his addiction to liquor. This, whenever he can get it, he will take to excess; and the manner in which his master deals with him is as follows. He is stationed in the camp to look after the horses and cattle; and when he has to visit the settlement, he is ordered to always first come direct to Mr Havers' house and deliver his message, or attend to his business. This done, he is told what hour he will have again to return; and being then dismissed, he follows his own pleasure till that time, having, in general, one or two of the Company's men with him. He then gets a good bouse-a sleep-another bouse if he has time, with a renewed sleep afterwards; and then punctually at the hour named proceeds to his master's house for fresh orders. These received, he is directed immediately to start on his journey, and sometimes it will be necessary to see him out of the settlement, to prevent his getting any more spirits. On one occasion he kept literally to his promise not to take any more while in the town; but no sooner was he out of the town than, as was afterwards known, he took from his breast a bottle of rum, and drank so much of it that in a short time he was soon asleep by the wayside, his horse roaming near at hand. Upon awaking, he got up as one refreshed, easily caught his horse, and, without attempting a return to the town, steadily pursued his journey. His habits being so well known, make him to be thus depended upon; and, if I am right in all the circumstances-for I am giving this anecdote from memory-he is frequently watched, to see that no harm befalls him. Taciturn and stoical, though tractable, I was given to understand there could be but little information gleaned from him; and I believe this is the characteristic of all his countrymen. I do not think that they would kill any stranger going among them, unless he gave them great cause; and, from an anecdote related to me concerning an aged cacique, I imagine they have a reverence for many of the higher moral virtues.

I should mention, that, owing to their

solitary pair of musicians of our party, a drummer and fifer, to sound the réveillee. In ten minutes more I stood panting on the summit of the rock, gazing thirstily on the scene beneath me, where Asiatic beauty winded slowly before me, like a glorious river, whose changeable waters the eye tired not of drinking. I had no fear of thief or Thug, for a late excursion in the district behind me had assured me of safety; but nevertheless I started violently when, from the branches of a stately peepul-tree that grew close by, a dark figure, that seemed of human proportions, leaped with a jibbering cry upon the ground.

I had no great reason to be alarmed, for I saw not a man but a monkey-one of those long-legged, brown monkeys, with white-streaked faces, that abound amongst these heights, and which, probably little less startled than myself, receded as I advanced, jabbering its dissatisfaction at my intrusion. At the foot of the peepul-tree, throwing up its rich white petals, that shed around a sweet but sickening odour, grew a magnificent plant of the datura: and as I stooped to pluck it, a rustle in the underwood beyond, followed by an acute sharp scream, which I ascribed to my friend the monkey, arrested my hand. I had judged correctly; but I had underrated the number of my early companions. With a spring that brought it almost to my feet, making me in my turn retreat, the monkey lay moaning, and, as I thought, violently convulsed among the grass; nor did I at the moment perceive, what indeed I discovered with a degree of horror, that round its body was twisted a gorgeously-spotted snake-the cobra di capello! I wish I could describe the maddened contortions of the monkey, as, writhing beneath the straining coils of the reptile, it rolled on the grass in vain efforts to rid itself of its deadly asssilant. The piteous gaze of its eyes, as they wistfully looked up into my face, was eloquent with a summons for help which I was by no means inclined to resist. Whether the snake had bitten it or not, I could not guess, for it seemed to me as if it were merely playing with the animal -that fatal game which the cat plays with the mouse! But I shouted, and threw a stone, and then seizing a withered branch that lay on the ground, I advanced to the charge. The monkey, which at another time would have fled at

my approach, now remained perfectly motionless, as if it awaited certain succour. But the serpent, aroused to the cognisance of an assailant by a smart blow on the head, instantly inflating its horrid crest into that hoodlike form which renders it so appallingly hideous, gave vent to a loud hiss that seemed brimful of poison.

Again and again I struck at it: nor was it without a cold thrill through my veins that I beheld it disengage itself from the monkey; but far from attempting to make its escape, as I conjectured it would do, it turned itself, half erect, towards me, and with a fluttering hobble

like the hop of a bird whose wings have been broken-it leaped, with forked tongue protruded, right in my very path! There was no time for thought. My stick was neither strong nor long. I could see the venomous eyes burn like fire, and the colours of its swelling neck glow more deeply, as it prepared to spring again; and I was fairly on the point of making my retreat by plunging, at all hazards, down the rock behind me, when a shrill, chirruping cry, somewhat like that of a guinea-pig, was heard, and suddenly an elegant little creature, which at the moment I was well-nigh ready to spiritualise into a good genius, sprung upon the serpent, with a bound of lightsome ferocity which reminded me of the swoop of a kite upon a water-rat.

It was a mungoos! And now, indeed, a combat took place which fixed me to the spot in mute admiration; but not for long. Once or twice it seemed to me that the mungoos was bitten, but it might not have been so; for the velocity of their movements, as, clinging together, the snake and its foe rolled over and over amongst the long grass, prevented minute observation. It is asserted that, when bittten by a snake, the ichneumon retires for a moment to eat of some unknown plant, capable of rendering null the viperine venom; but on this occasion nothing of the sort occurred. The mungoos left not the conflict for a breathingspace; and at the end of about ten minutes the cobra di capello lay dead, torn and mangled piecemeal by the little animal, which frisked and danced about, with a purring sound, in a perfect frenzy of enjoyment.

As I held out my hand, actually believing, in the enthusiasm of the moment, that it would approach to receive my

The Barber's Shop. By Richard Wright Procter. With Illustrations. 8vo, 128 pp. Manchester: Thomas Dinham & Co.

WHO WAS THE REAL INVENTOR?

With a small act of justice to the memory of a wronged and very ingenious man, I shall conclude this desultory chapter. It is believed by some, doubted by many, and denied by those best informed in the matter, that Sir Richard Arkwright was a great inventor. We numbered amongst our earliest trade connections the son and grandson of Thomas Hayes, of Leigh, in Lancashire. The son who, during the best portion of his life, was a soldier on foreign service, has been some years dead, but with the grandson I still maintain a pleasurable acquaintance. I have frequently heard the subject of inventions canvassed and described. I had peculiar facilities for arriving at the truth touching one important question to the mechanical world; to the 'cotton metropolis' in particular. The result is a conviction on my part, that Thomas Hayes was the legitimate inventor of the wealth-creating waterframe, or throstle, of which Arkwright and others reaped the benefit. The simple history of the man and the invention is as follows:-Hayes was a reedmaker and weaver, with a passion and capacity for mechanics that would not be denied. They engrossed his thoughts and time to such an extent, that the simple manufactures of the reed and loom were neglected. The sleep of many nights was broken, the income of many days curtailed, for the indulgence of his intellectual hobby. Mrs Hayes did not admire his studying for the million. She feared-as well she might-the million would prove a bad paymaster. The phantom honours and visionary rewards of futurity for her possessed no charms. She remembered the fable of the bird-inhand, and preferred the commonplace and serviceable. Husband and wife often

argued this matter of fact versus fancy, with varying resolutions, but with one unvarying result. Nature was too powerful for Hayes. Study, and plan, and invent, he must; he could not, if he would, give over. He first brought to light a rude spinning-machine, which he christened after his daughter Jenny. This he shortly abandoned, and dedicated his entire energies to the construction of the water-frame. Here, after infinite labour, disappointment, and anxiety, he was completely successful. Then came Arkwright, and treachery. Kay, the clock-maker, who had made wheels and other requisites for Hayes, was induced to make similar ones for Arkwright. Arkwright was a more pushing, presuming man than Hayes; and ultimately the improver pushed the originator out of the market. The afterlife of both these men belongs to history. Hayes was assisted in his old age by a few private individuals who knew his merits, and what was better to the purpose, knew how to reward them. His income was at first about fifty pounds a-year, but it dwindled down to a mere trifle; for he outlived some of his patrons, and the gratitude of others died early. At the time of the great trial touching Arkwright's patent, Hayes was employed in superintending the erection of machinery for Baron Hamilton, at Balbriggan, in Ireland. When Hayes was subpoenaed as a witness, the baron judiciously advised him not to attend, unless rewarded with a liberal annuity; but Hayes preferred relying upon the generosity of the Lancashire millowners, and the result is shown. The descendants of the struggling genius remain, like himself, toiling and ill-paid artisans; whilst to the heirs of the clever tactician are allotted honour and almost fabulous wealth.

I regret having to speak thus harshly of a brother shaver; much rather would I have exalted Sir Richard as a magnet of the barber's shop; but, as he engrossed all the good things during life, surely his less fortunate rival ought to have a true word spoken in justice to his memory?

During the latter years of his existence, Thomas Hayes (not Highs, as written by Mr Guest, and others) resided in Manchester. He died December 10, 1803, at the patriarchal age of 84 years, and lies buried near the tomb of his friend Mr Cowherd, in Christ churchyard, King Street, Salford.