had a very sincere wish of adding a few years to those which he was destined to live. This gave rise to wish the first. "Let my wife and myself live," he said, " fifty years longer than nature has designed." "It shall be done," cried the stranger.

Whilst Schalken was puzzling his brain for a second wish, he bethought him that a pear tree, which was in his little garden had been frequently despoiled of its fruit, to the no small detriment of the said tree, and grievous disappointment of its owner. "For my second wish, grant that whoever climbs my pear tree shall not have power to leave it until my permission be given." This was also assented to.

Schalken was a sober man, and liked to sit down and chat with his wife of an evening; but she was a bustling body, and often jumped up in the midst of a conversation that she had only heard ten or twelve times, to scrub the table, or set their clay platters in order. Nothing disturbed him so much as this, and he was determined, if possible, to prevent a recurrence of the nuisance. With this object in view, he approached close to the stranger, and in a low whisper, told him his third and last wish that whoever sat in a particular chair in his hut, should not be able to move out of it until it should please him so to order. This wish was agreed to by the traveller, who, after many greetings, departed on his way.,

Years passed on, and his last two wishes had been fully gratified, by often detaining thieves in his tree, and his wife on her chair. The time was approaching when the promise of longevity would be falsified or made manifest. It happened that the birth days of the fisherman and his wife were the same. They were sitting together on the evening of the day that made him seventy-nine years, and Mietje seventy-three years of age, when the moon, that was shining through the window of the hut, seemed suddenly to be extinguished, and the stars rushed down the dark clouds, and lay glaring on the surface of the ocean, over which was spread an unnatural calmness, although the skies appeared to be mastered by the winds, and were heaving onward, with their mighty waves of cloud. Birds dropped dead from the boughs, and the foliage of the trees turned to a pale red. All seemed to prognosticate the approach of Death, and in a few minutes afterwards, sure enough he came.

He was, however, very different from all that the worthy couple had heard or fancied of him. He was certainly rather thin, and had very little colour, but he was well dressed, and his deportment was that of a gentleman. Bowing very politely to the ancient pair, he told them he merely came to give notice that by right they should have belonged to him on that day, but a fifty years respite was granted, and when that period was expired, he should visit them again. He then walked away; and the moon, and the stars, and the waters regained their natural appearance.

For the next fifty years, every thing passed on as quietly as before; but as the time drew nigh for the appointed advent of Death, Jan became thoughtful, and he felt no pleasure at the idea of the anticipated visit. The day arrived, and Death came, preceded by the same horrors as on the former occasion. Well, good folks," said he, "you now can have no objection to accompany me; for surely you have hitherto been highly privileged, and have lived long enough.

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The old dame wept, and clung feebly to her husband, as if she feared they were to be divided after passing away from the earth, on which they had dwelt so long and so happily together. Poor Schalken also looked very downcast, and moved after Death but slowly. As they passed by Jan's garden, he turned to take a last look at it, when a sudden thought struck him. He called to Death, and said, "sir, allow me to propose something to you. Our journey is a long one, and we have no provisions; I am too infirm, or I would climb yonder pear-tree, and take a stock of its best fruit with us; you are active and obliging, and will, I am sure sir, get it for us." Death, with great condescension, complied, and ascending the tree, gathered a great number of pears, which he threw down to old Schalken and his wife. At length he determined upon descending, but, to his surprise and apparent consternation, discovered that he was immoveable; nor would Jan allow him to leave the tree, until he had given them a promise of living another half century.

They jogged on in the old way for fifty years more, and Death came on the day. He was by no means so polite as he had formerly been; for the trick that Schalken had put upon him, offended his dignity and hurt his pride not a Come, Jan," said he, " you used me scurvily the

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other day, (Death thinks but very little of fifty years!) and I am determined to lose no time-come.'

Jan was sitting at his little table, busily employed in writing, when Death entered. He raised his head sorrowfully, and the pen trembled in his hand, as he thus addressed him. "I confess that my former conduct towards you merits blame, but I have done with such knaveries now, and have learnt to know that life is of little worth, and that I have seen enough of it. Still, before I quit the world, I would like to do all the good I can, and was engaged when you arrived in making a will, that a poor lad, who has always been kind to us, may receive this hut and my boat. Suffer me but to finish what I have begun, and I shall cheerfully follow wherever you may lead. Pray sit down; in a few minutes my task will be ended.

Death, thus appealed to, could refuse no longer, and seated himself in a chair, from which he found it as difficult to rise as he had formerly to descend from the pear-tree. His liberation was bought at the expense of an additional fifty years; at the end of which period, and exactly on their birth-day, Jan Schalken and his wife died quietly in their bed, and the salt sea flowed freely in the little village, in which they had lived long enough to be considered the father and mother of all the inhabitants.

ANECDOTE OF MOURAT BEY.

A peasant, near Damascus, in a year that locusts covered the plains of Syria, to supply the urgent necessities of his family, was daily obliged to sell a part of his cattle. This resource was very soon exhausted; and the unhappy father, borne down by the present calamity, went to the town to sell his implements of labour. Whilst he was cheapening some corn, newly arrived from Damietta, he heard tell of the success of Mourat Bey, who after vanquishing his enemies, had entered Grand Cairo in triumph. They painted the size, the character, the origin of this warrior. They related the manner in which he had arisen from a state of slavery to his present greatness. The astonished countryman immediately knew him to be one of his sons, carried off from him at eleven years old!

The old man lost no time in conveying to his family the provisions he had purchased, recounted what he had learnt, and determined to set out for Egypt. His wife and children bathed him with their tears, offering up their vows for his safe return. He went to the port of Alexandrietta, where he embarked, and landed at Damietta. But, a son who had quitted the religion of his forefathers to embrace Mahometanism, and who saw himself encircled with all the splendour of the most brilliant fortune, was it likely that he would acknowledge him? This idea hung heavy on his heart. On the other hand, the desire of rescuing his family from the horrors of famine, the hopes of recovering a child, whose loss he had long bewailed, supported his courage, and animated him to continue his journey.

He entered the capital, and repaired to the palace of Mourat Bey. He presented himself to the prince's attendants, and desired permission to speak with him. He urged, he ardently solicited an audience: his dress, and his whole appearance, which bespoke poverty and misfortune, were not calculated to obtain him what he sought for: but his great age, which is much respected in the East, pleaded in his favour.

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One of the officers informed Mourat Bey that a wretched old man desired to speak with him. Let him enter," said he. The peasant advanced with trembling steps on the rich carpet which covered the hall of the divan, and approached the Bey, who was reposing on a sopha embroidered with silk and gold. The various feelings which oppressed his mind, deprived him of utterance. Recollecting at length the child that had been stolen from him, and the voice of nature getting the better of his fears, he threw himself at his feet, and embracing his knees, cried out, "You are my child." The Bey raised him up, endeavoured to recollect him, and on a further explanation, finding him to be his father, he seated him by his side, and loaded him with caresses.

After the tenderest effusions of the heart, the old man painted to him the deplorable situation in which he had left his mother and brethren. The prince proposed to send for them to Egypt, and to make them partake of his riches and his power, provided they would embrace Mahometanism. The generous Christian had foreseen this proposal, and fearing

lest young people might have been dazzled with it, had not suffered one of his children to accompany him. He steadfastly rejected therefore the offer of his son, and had even the courage to remonstrate with him on his change of religion.

Mourat Bey, seeing that his father remained inflexible, and that the distress his family was in demanded immediate succour, ordered him a large sum of money, and sent him back to Syria, with a small vessel laden with corn. The happy countryman returned as soon as possible to the plains of Damascus. His arrival banished misery and tears from his rural dwelling, and restored joy, comfort, and happiness.

THE DANDY'S CREED.

I believe that a gentleman is any person with a tolerable suit of clothes, and a watch and a snuff-box in his pocket, I believe that honour means standing fire well; that advice means affront, and conviction a leaden pill.

I believe that adoration is only due to a fine woman, or her purse and that woman can keep but one secret; namely, her age.

I believe that my character would be lost beyond redemption, if I did not change my dress four times a day, bilk my schneider, wear a Petersham tie, and patronize Hoby for boots.

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I believe that playing at rouge et noir is the only honourway of getting a livelihood; that a man of honour never pays his tradesmen, because " they are a pack of scoundrels;" and that buying goods means ordering them without purpose of paying.

the

I believe that the word dress means nakedness in females; that husband is a person engaged to pay a woman's debts; that economy means pusillanimity; that a coachman is an accomplished nobleman; and that any person talking about decency is a bore.

I believe that there is not a cleverer or prettier fellow on the town than myself; and that, as far as regards women, I am altogether irresistible,