TOUSY.

E have a beautiful long-haired little dog called
Tousy, which lately had a pup. This queer
little bantling was jumping and tumbling about the
green one day, when a lady entered followed bya dog.
Tousy made a ferocious assault on the four-footed
stranger, by way of defending her young, and our
magnificent white cat, which was sitting on the door-
step, seeing or supposing that his friend Tousy was in
danger, made two immense bounds and alighted on
the back of the intruder, whose eyes would have been
scratched out but for prompt rescue. The mutual
affection of these two animals is unbounded, and. yet
we hear human disagreements compared to cat-and-
dog life! These animals, and many others, are
capable of the most devoted affection to their young,
and to their mates, and frequently teach us lessons of
kindness to one another.

 

 

 

TRUE AND TRUSTY.

—o——

    
  
 

8

CFIW days before the Jura
Ee sailed with the navvies
ae ‘for the Crimea, two men

-asked to see me (says Miss
4 ‘Z Marsh, in her English
<° Hearts & English Hands);
and with some hesitation
and fear, ‘lest it should
be thought taking advan-
tage of kindness,’ they re-
quested the loan of haif
a sovereign each, to enable
them to go down mto the country to take leave of
tleir wives and children.

The night before the vessel sailed, both came to
the Rectory to repay the loan.

‘ Are you sure, my friends, that; you can afford to
give it back P’

‘Quite sure: and thank you, ma’am.’

‘But what have you left for your lodging to-night
and breakfast to-morrow ?’”

‘Oh, we've paid our lodging! all’s square.’

‘But for breakfast P’

A moment’s pause ensued; then came the cheerful
answer,—

‘ With the good supper we’ve just made here, and
the good dinner we shall get aboard ship, we: don’t
want no breakfast.’

Of course, that arrangement was not permitted to
stand. But when we met on board ship we found
that, whilst other men had been laying out from
ten to twenty shillings a-piece in warm vests, John
and Jams had been obliged to do without them, to
enable them to repay their debts. So, there they
stood on deck, in that biting cold, with nothirg
warmer than a slop over their shoulders, and with
small chance of having the warm clothing, provided
by Government, given out for some days. It was
not to be borne. So, early in the day, we despatched
a messenger for four warm knitted vests from London.
Five o'clock came: the darkness of a December night
was deepening. Our la-t farewell words were said, i

 

 

and the last man’s hand had been shaken. There
was no longer any reason for remaining; yet our
messenger had not returned. There was plainly some
mistake; and the ship would, probably, sail before
the parcel conld now reach our friends.

The colder blew the night breezes about us as we
drove through Deptford, the more unbearable was
the thought of these two men suffering from their
high and delicate sense of honour towards us. We
drove from sh»p to shop, before anything like the
articles of clothing we wanted could be found. At
last, at the fifth shop which we searched, they were
obtained. But who was to take them to the ship?
No shopman could be spared.

Beneath a lamp in the street stood a group of boys.
Its iight fell on a face which seemed to introduce the
sort of messenger I desired. The story was told him.

‘Now, my boy, we are strangers, and I do not
want to know your name or where you live, nor any
clue to either. You might take these vests and make
twenty shillings upon them, or give them away to
your father and brothers if youchose. I should never
send the puliceman after you. But my confidence in
the honour of Inglish boys, which stands so high now,
would be broken down. And those nobly honest
men would suffer, and might take cold and go into a
consumption and die, and their wives and children
break their hearts about them.

The boy’s eyes flashed under the lamplight, and
snatching the parcel he said,—

‘Trust me. I’m the boy for it.’

Eighteenpence happened to be all the money we
had with us, after paying for the vests. I told him
how sorry I was for this; but that it would pay his
boat each way, and he would have sixpence and a
happy heart to lie down with at night.

‘It’s plenty. Father's a waterman; I shall get his
boat for nothing. Alls right!’ And off he ran.

A note had been enclosed in the parcel to one of —

the officers with whom I had had conversation, re-
questing him to send me one line by post, that night
or next morning, to say that the parcel had reached
the men for whom it. was meant.

The next day passed, and the next, but no letter
came from the Jura. We read in the Times that
she had sailed on Thursday morning. The day posts
of Saturday arrived, but brought no news of the
parcel. My trust failed.

‘My boy is dishonest,’ I said, ‘and my confidence
in human honour can never be the same again.

By the last post on Saturday evening came a note
from the officer alluded to, stating that about seven
o’clock on Wednesday evening, a boy had brought a
parcel on board, and had requested permission to
deliver it to the two men, whose names he gaye, in
the presence of the captain of the ship.

Having discharged his duty, the last sound heard
amidst the splashing of the oars, as he left the ship’s
side, was the shout,—

‘ Tell that ’ere lady I have kept my word, and the
jackets was in time.’

All honour to the Inglish boy who sustained my
right to trust my brothers, young or old! The world
is not so wide but we shall meet again, I hope; and
meet when we may, the trusty and the trusting will
be friends.

; Z