over her head, and she was carried out of the room by the maid. As her mother and sister never saw her again, I am afraid that she suffered a severe punishment for her pride and folly.

A CHIPPEWA LEGEND.

I

AN Indian chief was dying, and feeling his end near, he called his two eldest children to his side, and gave them his parting charge, "My son and daughter, you shall see me no more. go to the happy hunting grounds-green throughout the year with perpetual spring. But for my sake, when I am gone, be kind to little Sheemah, your brother. Weak he is, and young. He cannot yet set traps for the game, nor draw a seasoned bow. Therefore he has the more need for your love, and he who needs love, has a right to love, for the Great Spirit has planted love in our hearts, that we may help the weak, who cannot care for themselves. Therefore be kind to Sheemah, that you yourselves may never be deserted in your need." And the old chief

'died.

Their wigwam stood alone by the lake, far from the dwellings of their tribe. And after some months, the elder brother grew weary of the loneliness, and he said, "Why should I dwell here alone, shut out from all the free and natural joys that befit my age? I am tall, and strong, and well skilled in hunting; I am patient of toil and hunger, and never yet have I seen the danger that I dared not look full in the face. What

hinders me to be a mighty chief among my kin?" So taking up his arrows and his bow, as if he was going to hunt, he journeyed swiftly on, until he reached the wigwams of his tribe, where he chose out a wife, and in the stir and bustle of his new life, he soon forgot the little Sheemah, and his father's charge.

Now, when the sister knew her eldest brother was gone, and after waiting many days, still found he did not return, she wept, for Sheemah more than for herself; for love dwells longer in a woman's heart, and duty lingers even when love is gone. But when duty is once driven away, then selfishness creeps in, and the heart is altogether changed. So it was, that for many months the sister hunted far and wide to find food for little Sheemah, and took tender care of him; but day by day the loneliness grew more wearisome, and she sighed to herself, and said, "Am I not beautiful? So the smooth waters of our lake tell me; but why am I beautiful if there are no eyes to look upon me, and if there are no lips to praise me?" and the vain thought sank into her heart, and made it cruel, and she ceased to care for her little brother Sheemah, and she went forth and sought the haunts of men, and very soon she was wedded, and in her household cares, she, like her elder brother, soon forgot the little Sheemah, and her father's dying charge.

But Sheemah, left alone in the solitary lodge, waited and waited with a shrinking heart, hoping each rustle of the leaves was his sister's step returning to him. But he waited in vain, and hope left him, and fear came in its stead, and

every sound he feared might prove some danger. Very few the sounds were, for the place was lonesome. The nuts dropped from their shells; the squirrels chirrupped, the jays screamed; summer had passed, and silent autumn had come, and the few sounds of the woods only made the silence more dreary. What small store his sister had left was soon gone, but through the autumn he made shift to live on roots and berries, gathered in much fear of wolves, whose ghastly hungry howls he often heard at dead of night.

But winter came at last, and when the snow spread itself out in one unbroken whiteness over all things, then the little Sheemah would have perished, had not hunger made him bold, to follow the wolves, which before he dared not look upon, and gather up the fragments which they had left behind. And so wild and starved was he, that the wolves feared a creature more gaunt and lean than themselves, and did not hurt him. By degrees, he and the wolves grew friends, and all the winter through, the deserted child and his fierce protectors lived and shared together.

Late in the spring, when all the ice was gone, the elder brother came in his canoe to fish in the lake where his father's wigwam had stood, and there he heard a low moaning voice upon the shore; half like a child it seemed, and half like a wolf, and something in his heart told him, “it is your little brother Sheemah's voice," and quickly he rowed towards the bank, and saw in a thicket a child. But, oh strange! as he looked, the child seemed to be fast changing into a wolf. All

from the neck downwards was grey shaggy hair, and while his eyes were still fixed upon him, the hair grew higher and higher. The face was turned away, but he knew well that it was the face of Sheemah. Then bowing his head, and with trembling hands, hiding his eyes, that he might not see the first look of his brother's eyes, he cried, "Oh Sheemah! oh, my brother, speak to me! Do you not know me, that I am your brother? Come to me, little Sheemah, henceforth you shall dwell with me, and know neither want nor care." Sheemah was silent for a time, it seemed to be hard to him to speak again with a human voice, and when at last the words came, it was as if a wolf spoke them. "I know you not, you are not what you say. I have no other brothers than the wolves, and you, who have been so cruel to me, are not worthy to be called their kin." And the other groaned, and his heart sank within him full of remorse; and looking up fearfully, he saw only a wolf, ugly, and fierce, which shrank away, and ran and hid itself in the wood.

And the elder brother knew that it was through his fault that the little Sheemah was changed into a wild beast, because he had not kept his father's charge, nor sheltered him with the human love that was his due.

A PET OPOSSUM.

ONE of our servants, when out at night shooting them, killed two Opossums, each having a young one in her pouch, and these he brought to me. They

were then about two-thirds the size of an English squirrel, greyish brown, soft furred, sweet-faced little creatures; and I, as delighted with my prize as a child, directly ordered a large tea chest to be made into a cage, with thin bars, and a door at one side to put them in. As the man went on preparing the new abode, he observed quietly, "Ah, ma'am, I've known a many people as kept tame 'possums, but never a one as wasn't glad to be quit of 'em again!"

This, however, I treated as a most unworthy prejudice on the part of our good senator, and diminished nothing of my zeal for the comfort of my poor little orphan pets. I gave them a warm bed of wool and fresh hay, in which they completely hid themselves during the day, clasping each other with their paws and tails into one round ball. I fed them with bread soaked in milk, and slightly sweetened, and for the first few evenings I had to give it to them very carefully with a small spoon, not noticing their sharp little claws and teeth; and afterwards they fed themselves, picking a piece out of the saucer, and holding it in their forepaws, which, as well as the hind feet, have the toes so long and slender as to seem just like fingers, and in these little creatures the texture and colour of the skin was soft and fair, quite a delicate pink, like a baby's fingers.

They grew fast, and played with each other at night, as well as their roomy cage would permit, and after a time began to eat fresh young ears of corn, grass, parsley, &c., in addition to their constant meal of bread and milk. One day, when I was clipping the thyme-edging of my flower borders, I unfortunately offered them a small bit of it in blossom. One of them refused it, but the other ate a young sprig about two inches long, and coiled itself to sleep again. A friend that dined with us that day, hearing me' mention having given some thyme to the Opossum, immediately said that it would die, as he had known