, would have little
hesitation, when opportunity presented itself, of springing upon and
carrying off the unwary traveler or "Bechuana" inhabiting his country.
Be this as it may, man-eaters occur; and on my fourth hunting
expedition, a horrible tragedy was acted one dark night in my little
lonely camp by one of these formidable characters, which deprived me, in
the far wilderness, of my most valuable servant. In winding up these few
observations on the lion, which I trust will not have been tiresome to
the reader, I may remark that lion-hunting, under any circumstances, is
decidedly a dangerous pursuit. It may nevertheless be followed, to a
certain extent, with comparative safety by those who have naturally a
turn for that sort of thing. A recklessness of death, perfect coolness
and self-possession, an acquaintance with the disposition and manners of
lions, and a tolerable knowledge of the use of the rifle, are
indispensable to him who would shine in the overpoweringly exciting
pastime of hunting this justly-celebrated king of beasts.

[From Dickens's Household Words.]

THE OLD CHURCH-YARD TREE.

A PROSE POEM.

There is an old yew tree which stands by the wall in a dark quiet corner
of the church-yard.

And a child was at play beneath its wide-spreading branches, one fine
day in the early spring. He had his lap full of flowers, which the
fields and lanes had supplied him with, and he was humming a tune to
himself as he wove them into garlands.

And a little girl at play among the tombstones crept near to listen; but
the boy was so intent upon his garland, that he did not hear the gentle
footsteps as they trod softly over the fresh green grass. When his work
was finished, and all the flowers that were in his lap were woven
together in one long wreath, he started, up to measure its length upon
the ground, and then he saw the little girl, as she stood with her eyes
fixed upon him. He did not move or speak, but thought to himself that
she looked very beautiful as she stood there with her flaxen ringlets
hanging down upon her neck. The little girl was so startled by his
sudden movement, that she let fall all the flowers she had collected in
her apron, and ran away as fast as she could. But the boy was older and
taller than she, and soon caught her, and coaxed her to come back and
play with him, and help him to make more garlands; and from that time
they saw each other nearly every day, and became great friends