E REASONING--ROMANCE AND REALITY--
THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS.

"Now my co-mates, and brothers in exile,
Hath not long custom made this life more sweet
Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
More free from peril than the envious court?
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
The seasons' difference; as the icy fang
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind."

The next morning "the Islanders," or some of them, at least, were
stirring early; and the first thing that attracted my attention, on
opening my eyes, was a busy group, consisting of Max, Eiulo, and Johnny,
gathered round a fire at a little distance, and engaged in some
apparently very interesting operation. A savoury smell at the same time
saluted my olfactory organs, and on approaching the scene of action, to
investigate the matter more closely, I found my finny prize of the
preceding evening undergoing a somewhat primitive style of cookery, of
which Max appeared to be the chief director and superintendent. A
number of large oysters were also roasting in the embers; and from these
last proceeded the grateful and appetising odour referred to.

"Good morning!" cried Max; "you see we have breakfast nearly ready; and
a breakfast, too, that will be a positive luxury, after so long a course
of cocoa-nut diet; how Browne will exult at the sight of it; how his
eyes will open--to say nothing of his mouth! And don't we deserve a
vote of thanks for our early labours for the general good?"

Morton and Browne at this moment emerged from their respective heaps of
leaves, and, after rather more than the usual amount of yawning and
stretching of limbs, came towards the fire.

"Fee, faw, fo, fum!" cried Morton, snuffing the agreeable smell of the
cookery in progress, "I trust we're not too late for breakfast, and that
there is something more than the savour of good victuals left."

"You are in good time," said Johnny, bustling about the fire with an air
of official dignity, "the first bell hasn't rung yet."

"But why has Shakespeare such a long face?" said Max; "has camping out
caused a reminiscence of rheumatism!"

"Bad dreams, horrible dreams!" answered Browne, shaking his head
solemnly, "which came of lying staring at the moon last night, until I
fell asleep:"--then throwing himself into an attitude, he commenced
declaiming with a tragic air--

"`O, I have passed a miserable night,
So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights,
That as I am