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Sharpe, burning and shivering in her sewing-chair, dreamily caught through the open door, and dreamily repeated to herself, a dozen words of compassionate Irish brogue: "Folks as laves folks cryin' to home and goes sailin' round with other women " Then the wind latched the door. The Doctor and Miss Dallas drew in their oars, and floated softly.

And with that, in a deep and exquisitely melodious voice, which wanted only more scientific culture to have challenged any competition, the Knight of St. John poured forth: The Lay of the Troubadour. Gentle river, the moonbeam is hush'd on thy tide, On thy pathway of light to my lady I glide. My boat, where the stream laves the castle, I moor, All at rest save the maid and her young Troubadour!

'Mother! I heard him say, 'Mother! an' that's all I heard him say and the mother waitin' away aff there by the Liffey soide. Aw, wurra, wurra, the b'ys go down to battle and the mothers wait at home! Some of the b'ys come back, but the most of thim shtay where the battle laves 'em. Wurra, wurra, many's the b'y wint down that day by Alma River, an' niver come back!

You may take it for granted this castle was one of the finest, prettiest, most exquisite and most elaborate castles of our sweet Touraine, and laves itself in the Indre like a princely creature, gayly decked with pavilions and lace curtained windows, with fine weather-beaten soldiers on her vanes, turning whichever way the wind blows, as all soldiers do.

Captain Cook's endeavours to serve the inhabitants of New Zealand, by the vegetables and animals he left among them, are thus described: "To these the hero leads his living store, And pours new wonders on th' uncultur'd shore; The silky fleece, fair fruit, and golden grain; And future herds and harvests bless the plain, O'er the green soil his kids exulting play, And sounds his clarion loud the bird of day; The downy goose her ruffled bosom laves, Trims her white wing, and wantons in the waves; Stern moves the bull along th' affrighted shores, And countless nations tremble as he roars."

In the Sycamore Ridge Banner for September 12, 1867, appeared some verses by Watts McHurdie, beginning: "Hail and farewell to thee, friend of my youth, Pilgrim who seekest the Fountain of Truth, Hail and farewell to thy innocent pranks, No more can I send thee for left-handed cranks. Farewell, and a tear laves the ink on my pen, For ne'er shall I 'noint thee with strap-oil again."

"Where the mighty Pacific with soft-swelling waves A thousand bright regions eternally laves." See Wentworth's Australasia, vol. i. pp. 52-55. Upon this beautiful and convenient piece of water, which has been just described, is the capital of the principal British colony in Australia situated.

York leads his way embanked in flowery pride, And noble James falls winding by his side; Back to the hills, through many a silent vale, Wild Rappahannock seems to lure the sail; Patapsco's bosom courts the hand of toil; Dull Susquehanna laves a length of soil; But mightier far, in sea-like azure spread, Potowmac sweeps his earth disparting bed." At night we were on the broad Chesapeake.

And one upon his shafts, another on his bow is treading, and one hath loosed the sandal of Adonis, and another hath broken his own feathered quiver, and one in a golden vessel bears water, and another laves the wound, and another from behind him with his wings is fanning Adonis. Woe, woe for Cytherea, the Loves join in the lament!

The house in Gagetown in which the future governor of New Brunswick and finance minister of Canada was born, is still standing and is now used as a hotel. Gagetown was at that period, and still is, one of the most beautiful places in New Brunswick. The river St. John flows in front of it, and Gagetown Creek, which is almost as wide as the river, laves its shores.