towards you in my own house. But such speech as yours is an insult to the God in whom I believe, and in whom I wish, from all my heart, that you too did believe.'

'Ay, ay; cant away, Uncle Job. They call you "religious;" but I dare say, now, your religion would not save a poor fellow-your sister's son-from starving.'

Job rose hastily, and turned towards a cupboard in the corner of the room. Opening the door, he took down from a shelf a loaf of bread and a Devonshire cheese, exclaiming :

'God forbid that any one who is an hungered should ask me for help, and ask in vain! Never have I sent away from this door a man who came to it famished and weary, without first giving him the food and the rest he needed.'

'None of your dry stuff for me, Uncle Job; but a glass of rum now, or a flagon of ale.'

'Do you not know that I never drink aught but water, lest at any time sleep or drowsiness should overpower me when I ought to be tending my lamps?'

'Water! ha ha! ha! Job Oglethorpe drinks water! Come now, that won't do with me. Something stronger and better must be hidden away in that snug cupboard of yours.'

Richard Marsland, I tell you it is not so.

Here now

are the bread and the cheese; if you are an hungered, fall to, and be welcome. But, I pray you, make haste, for the afternoon wears apace, and I must soon be gone.' 'Gone! where ?'

To the lighthouse, as thou knowest.'

'Would there were no lighthouse! I don't thank the Government that spoiled an honest fellow's trade by clapping yonder pile of rugged stones on the Witch's Rock. I have heard tell that, long ago, before the lighthouse was built there, two and three wrecks a week occurred during the winter season. Those were days when a man like me could keep a horse and a well

stocked cellar, instead of being forced to hunt up a stingy uncle to get a meal of bread and cheese.'

'Rather should you thank God that the ingenuity of man has devised this plan of saving precious lives,' said Oglethorpe. But I must hurry you, Richard Marsland,

for it is time I was away.'

'Now, look you here, Uncle Job;' and Dark Dick, rising from the table, placed one hand on the lighthousekeeper's shoulder with an air of affectionate confidence ; 'look you here, Uncle Job. My mates and I have notice that an American trader, laden with goods from the colonies, will enter the bay to-night. Put aside your scruples, your religion, or whatever you call it, for a few hours. Sham sick, my man, and don't go to the lighthouse.'

'Not go to the lighthouse!'

‘Just what I say, Don't go to the lighthouse.

Oglethorpe stared at his nephew as if unable to realize the suggestion. Then, with a husky voice, he exclaimed: ‘And the lights would not be kindled ! and the good ship, with no friendly ray to direct her, would drive upon the fatal rocks, where escape for her crew is impossible! Something of this have wicked men hinted at before ; but now it is my sister's son who dares to breathe in my ears the atrocious counsel! To load my soul with the weight of never-dying remorse-with the memory of a deed that surely could never be forgiven! Nay, Richard Marsland, I would not be guilty of such a crime, for all the plunder that was ever wrongfully gathered on yonder beach.'

And the old man, turning away, muttered to himself that most useful of all prayers: 'Lead us not into temptation; deliver us from evil.'

Dark Dick's countenance was convulsed with passion. He mastered himself after a struggle, however, and endeavoured to conceal his annoyance by humming a tune. Then, seeing Oglethorpe preparing to leave the cottage, he said:

Come, Uncle Job, least said is soonest mended. If a man chooses to stand in his own light, let him do so without hindrance from me. I have shown you how a pretty penny might- Well, well, if the subject is so unpleasing, I'll say no more. Good-day, Job Oglethorpe. But what's the hour?'

'Ten minutes to four, Dick Marsland.'

'That's a good watch of yours, Uncle Job.'

Yes, and I prize it highly.'

'It is worth, I suppose, a matter of twenty guineas.' 'More than that, Dick.'

'More than twenty guineas?'

'Ay, more than fifty, more than a hundred; for it was a gift from those who employ me, and a token of their satisfaction with the man who always strove to do his duty. But here comes my daughter Margaret; and I will bid you good-day, Richard Marsland.'

As the slouching, dark, and crafty wrecker quitted the cottage, a bright-eyed, fair-headed, rosy little maiden ran merrily across the garden, and sprang into her father's

arms.

'I came to tell you- But was not that man Cousin Marsland, of whom all the village speaks so evil, feyther?'

'Yes, Margaret; unfortunate Richard Marsland! Unfortunate, indeed, for he is the slave of his wicked passions. And he would have tempted- But go on, Peggy, such foul things are not fit for your pure ears.'

'Jessie sent me forward to say she should be home in twenty minutes, feyther. But the cow is main troublesome, and would go straying into Farmer Simpson's field.'

'Then I will wait another twenty minutes, Margaret; for I like not to leave you in this place alone, while Marsland is prowling about the neighbourhood. Get you your Bible, Peggy, and let me hear you read a Psalm

or two.'

Peggy was soon seated by her father's side, with the old family Bible spread open on her knees; and in read

ing these beautiful Psalms, which have been the encouragement and consolation of the Christian in the darkest hour of human suffering, as well as his guide and counsellor in moments of doubt or difficulty, the time pleasantly passed away. But as Jessie had not made her appearance at the expiration of the twenty minutes, Job Oglethorpe was compelled to start for the lighthouse, giving his little daughter strict injunctions to open the door to no one until her sister had returned.

Leaving him to take his way down the cliff-path, we will join company with Jessie Oglethorpe, and ascertain, if we can, the cause of her detention.

T is of the enchanter's nightshade that the poet speaks in this verse; and one might suppose, from the name, that it was renowned for its magical uses, with many an interesting legend attached, connecting it with the mysterious magicians of old. But it is simply because it loves to blossom in the damp and shady place, where bad fairies and wizards were supposed to resort, and work out their spells in the dark and gloom, that it is so called, and not from any evil association which it bears. In the illustration I have given you a sketch of two of our com

monest nightshades, this same common enchanter's nightshade-Circaa lutetiana,-and the woody nightshade, or bitter sweet-Solanum dulcamara,-which may both be found blooming as late as this, though first appearing

GROUP OF NIGHTSHADES.

in flower during June. The former is a pretty little blossom, with spikes of delicate, lilac-tinged flowers, and elegantly-shaped, soft green leaves. It grows about a foot high; loves best, as I have said before, a shady place,