THE YOUTH'S CABINET.

ly. His brother tore the Judge’s shirt
into rags, so that he looked very poorly
for a magistrate.

Another of the steerage passengers Js
the gardener of General Scott, whom all
of you have heard a good deal about.
He has an old suit of regimentals, which
he says he is going to put on after he
lands. Yesterday he went to the captain,
and said, “Captain, I wish you would
give me a little brown sugar, you would
oblige me and General Scott.” He seems
to feel very proud of his connection with

the American general. It is glory enough
| “Why don’t the birds sing, mother?”

This is the third time I have crossed |
the Atlantic Ocean. Once when I crossed,
we had several deaths on board. This |
| mother held his head on her bosom. It
| seemed as if she would die in her sorrow.
| To the last he talked of the trees, and
sengers. It is not like a death upon the |
land. Here we are all in all to each

for him to have once been his gardener.

time we have had none, and I trust we
shall not have any. You cannot imagine

how sad a death at sea makes all the pas-

other. We form a little world, so close

to look on.

The time I refer to, when I crossed be- |
fore, was in the autumn, and jt was a very |
stormy passage. - After we had been out |
eight or nine days, a little boy was taken |
very ill with @ feyer. His mother was |
with him, and she was the only person he |
knew aboard the ship. The doctor told
us after he had been to see him, that he
We were |

was afraid he would not live.
all very much surprised; for only two or

three days before we had seen the little |

fellow playing on deck. We all of us
loved him, for he was a frank and good
little fellow. He was about eight years
old, had silken hair, which curled about
as white a brow as I ever looked upon.
His eyes were. blue, and upon his young

 

267

face there was almost always a smile of
joy. It did not seem possible that he
vould die—and yet he was now very ill.
I went in one morning to his room, with
the doctor, to see him! Ah! he was
worn away to a skeleton, and yet he look-
ed very beautiful. His blue eyes were
mild, his soft hair was combed back from
his brow—he was crazy. While I was

there, he talked to his play-fellows on

shore. He thought not that he was upon
the deep ocean in his delirium, “Mother,

mother,” he cried. She came and kissed
his brow, and said, “ What, my son?”

She only answered him with her tears aud
sobs.
One stormy night he died. His dear

birds, and flowers upon the shore; of the
cool waters in the spring, and of the

| breezes among the woods.
together, that if any one suffers, we have |

The next morning it cleared away, and
all the bright, beautiful day we walked
slowly about on deck, in tears and in sor-
row. The poor mother watched beside
her dead boy. The next morning—oh
I remember its serene, its heavenly
beauty now—the next morning they
wrapped the beautiful corpse in its shroud
of sail cloth, and tied to the feet some
shot, Then it was ‘placed upon a plank,
which was balanced upon the side of the
ship, Then weall gathered around, while
a clergyman read theservice for the dead.
The boatman held one end of the plank,
and when the proper time arrived, elevat-
ed it so that the body slid down into the
depths of the ocean, I never heard any
sound like that. It seemed as if our
hearts would break to hear it. The poor