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And the father said, "Oh, were it not joy

To plunge in those beautiful waves, my boy— To be borne on high

As the billows rush by,

And then deep down in the hollows to lie!

I have never yet swum in so grand a sea,

He has turned and struck out shoreward again,
And he swims with might and main-
Why is his strength so vain ?
The great green rushing mountains of sea
Are coursing shoreward impetuously,
And they lift him high

In their surging by,

Then drop him low in the hollow to lie;

And he swims for dear life, and he thinks each crest,
That lifts him high on its awful breast,

Must carry him onward; but never more
Nears he that coveted shore!

Oh, sweetest mother!-oh, gentlest wife!
Thy loved one is struggling for thee and for life!
The winds have heard that one dread cry,

"I am drowning! Oh, help me!"-but they pipe by, Singing their storm-song lustily :

And thou, sweet mother, art smiling with joy
As they blow in the locks of thy blue-eyed boy.

A current is sweeping out of the bay With an under-sucking might; And ended at last in the deadly fray, And fought the desperate fight.

But I'll dare it to-day, and thou'lt dare it with me!" Like a broken spar, or a tangled weed,

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He is rolled in the billow with none to heed,
And none to help, for the thunderous roar
Is all that is heard on the foam-wreathed shore.

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of those Sundays, and, though one was very much like the other, each seemed to the boy more charming than the last. Dressed in his Eton suit of fine blue cloth, kept expressly for holiday use; his chimney-pot hat, an article of apparel as delectable to English youths as without doubt was the manly toga to schoolboys of ancient Rome, scrupulously brushed; a flower, if the season admitted, in his button-hole, and a few drops of eau-deCologne on his white cambric handkerchief, Geoff was always ready full ten minutes before the last bell began to ring. He would put his tutor's hat, coat, and Prayer-book ready, would open the front door an inch, stand first on one foot, then on another, finally venture to tap at the study door, and say-"It must be time to go, I think, sir." Whereupon the usual careless reply would issue from within, not uttered impatiently, but in an indifferent tone, that rendered further remonstrance out of the question. So Geoff had nothing to do but open the door an inch wider, prick up his ears for the sound of the second bell, arrange hat, coat, and Prayer-book, if possible, after handier fashion, and again begin the gymnastics before named, till at last he heard the welcome words"Come, my lad, I'm ready now."

A minute later and tutor and pupil were on their way to the picturesque old church of St. Margaret's: the former a tall, spare, scholarly man of eight-and-thirty; the latter a well-grown, innocent-looking boy in that stage of his existence when ears are unusually conspicuous, long legs, in spite of a good deal of drilling, given to dangle rather than walk, feet and hands the reverse of symmetrical, and cheeks glowing with almost infantine smoothness and bloom. The two descended the zigzag path leading from their cosily nestled home on the slope of a green hill, then in a few minutes' time had taken their accustomed places, Geoff looking up to see if Georgie were in hers, his companion, after bending his head for a minute in prayer, leaning back absently. At the very last moment Georgie and a detachment of the large family to which she belonged would hasten up the aisle, the little ones looking aggrieved and uncomfortable, much as if pins were pricking them, which, seeing the hurry of their toilet, might very likely be the case; the elder girls flushed and triumphant; and, indeed, to have dressed so many children in time for church, and themselves into the bargain, was an achievement. Georgie, a large promising girl of fourteen, with black hair tied up by vermilion

coloured ribbons, very properly frowned at encountering Geoff's smile; then, having said her preliminary prayer, occupied herself with the children. The boy in her charge had to have his collar pulled straight, the girl her shoes buttoned, gloves drawn on, and both had to be awed into silence by whispered admonitions from time to time.

Bella, the eldest of the family, taller, larger, more imposing in appearance than Georgie, with the same abundance of black hair, but no red ribbons coquettishly knotting it, and a less vivacious slightly sentimental expression, was also obliged to divide her attention between the prayers and her young charges. On the whole, the little things behaved pretty well, for everything was old-fashioned and unattractive at St. Margaret's, except the benches. Only two hymns were sung, only the Te Deum and Benedicite were chaunted, the Litany formed an invariable part of the service, and the sermons were always longer than those delivered from any other pulpit in the town. Formerly the time-honoured pews screened restless youngsters and drowsy veterans from the eyes of the congregation; but these had been superseded by the newfangled benches of modern times, which compel alike young and old to behave themselves, at least with some show of decorum. Georgie and Bella had occasionally a difficult task, but they performed it admirably, and could boast that, even in the hottest day of summer, they contrived to keep their little charges awake.

The longest sermon, however, must come to an end at last, and Geoff's face wore a radiant look as the usual hand-shaking took place outside the porch. Then the large party, reinforced by another detachment of Georgie's family who had attended morning service elsewhere-it was hardly to be expected that one church could accommodate them all-poured down with the rest of the congregation towards the sea. There was a certain portion of parade in this southern watering-place that seemed by right to belong to the parish of St. Margaret's and its unfashionable inhabitants. Although it joined the long, unbroken promenade of the modern town, flanked with handsome new houses, the exact counterpart of Marinas elsewhere, it remained St. Margaret's Parade always. Belgravia in velvet and white feathers never put her dainty foot within the precincts of her twin sister, the picturesque, rugged, grand old fishingtown, a Wapping by comparison. And on Sundays, after church, Geoff and his oldfashioned friends preferred to stroll up and

down the little parade adjoining the fishmarket, rather than mingle with the aristocratic crowds on the Marina.

Geoff naturally fell into his place by Georgie's side, and the pair, without saying much that perhaps either of them could remember next day, found each other's society very agreeable. Georgie, no longer frowning at him, and relieved on account of the little ones that the long sermon was over, looked sparkling and rosy. She was a girl who liked the feeling of Sunday clothes and the admiration they inspired in a companion of the other sex.

"Oh, Geoff!" she said, looking at him almost affectionately, they were such very good friends, and always told each other everything. "You don't know it. I have got a new umbrella !"

"That's too bad," Geoff said, pouting. "I was going to give you one on your birthday. But let me carry it for you."

"No!" she replied stoutly. "Boys break everything, and it has an ivory handle, as you see. You must not touch it on any account." "Ah, there is nothing too bad for you to say about boys!" he said reproachfully. "Girls are perfect, I suppose ?"

"Not so loud, Geoff, please. People are looking at us. How absurd you are! As if breaking umbrellas had anything to do with perfection. You cannot help being awkward and breaking things, because you are a boy, you know."

Thus they prattled on, as they had prattled a score of times before, neither in foolisher fashion nor wiser, not instructing or edifying each other, but certainly doing each other no harm. And their young hearts were as light as the little white clouds sailing overhead. How breezy and pleasant was this corner of the ancient town on such spring-tide Sundays! A dozen little fishing-boats, flags up, signs of a good haul, were scudding before the south-westerly breeze into the harbour; the sea, of deep olive green streaked into silvery lines, seemed the very personification of undying joy, youth, and strength; the deep rushing of the waves exhilarated like the music of trumpets and clarions; the sky, clean washed with recent storms of wind and rain, gleamed in splendour above sea-encircling green hills. Over against the strollers by the shore, cresting a bold rock, rose the grey ruins of the castle after which the place, foremost of historic towns in England, was called. But excepting the character of antiquity lent by these crumbling bastions to be seen for miles round, what a welcome air

of freshness and vitality was here! Surely by the sea we should never grow old.

By-and-by, the little procession turned homeward. Georgie's father, Ralph Garland, and his old college friend, Edgar Durham, Geoff's tutor, going first, the young people following, all, from the youngest to the oldest, making light of the steep walk leading to their destination, a very eagle's nest perched on the edge of the cliff. Half an hour later the family party, numbering nearly a score of souls, sat down to the hospitable board. The master presided, a large, shaggy, handsome man still young, with a dreamy expression but a fine practical flow of animal spirits, and a patriarchal air that seemed to want a furrowed brow and white beard. By his right-hand, in a high-backed chair, sat a very old woman indeed, she must have been verging on ninety, who wore that expression of almost triumphant hilarity, seen in the extremely aged who have outlived several generations without losing their health or their faculties. They are proud of such singularity, and no wonder. She was muffled up in so many wraps and shawls that you saw nothing of her but a withered, cheerful face, brown as an Arab's, and a pair of diminished eyes, bright as beads. She was the grandmother-by adoption-of the family, a great-aunt of the dead Mrs. Garland, who being left homeless in her old age, had here found love and shelter. On the other side of the master, sat another adopted member of the family, generally known as Cousin Alice. She was no cousin of the Garlands, indeed nobody's cousin at all, for this poor little lame crookbacked girl, or woman-who could guess her age ?—had not a single living soul with whom to claim kith or kin on the face of the earth. She also had been gathered to this warm friendly fold from the cold bleak wilderness of the outside world, and although disinherited both by nature and fortune, here felt herself rich as a queen.

The remaining places were occupied by the nine children, one of whom was also a little waif, the servants, whose Sunday privilege it was, for the benefit of the conversation, to dine in the parlour, and by our old friends, Geoff and Durham. Two little girls sat opposite their father at the other end of the table. Since his wife's death four years before, Ralph never permitted any one to preside in the beloved Bertha's place.

Grace was said; then with the relish of mountaineers-as indeed they might be called, seeing that they lived at an elevation of several hundred feet above the sea-level-and the

high spirit of school boys and girls on breaking up day, the company proceeded to dine. It was dining in earnest, for one invariable feature of that Sunday banquet consisted in the certainty of everything being eaten up. This happy household was not vexed with the dire culinary problem of odds and ends. Nothing was ever spoiled, because everything straightway vanished. It seemed the rule of the house that it should be so, and the duties of both cook and housekeeper were thereby much lightened.

There was no other certainty about the dinner, for never was ordinary so made up of attractive variety as this, sometimes being on a scale of palatial costliness, at others homely as that of a poor-house. To-day the plumage of a pheasant would flash above such a pastry as baffles description, and choicest old wine or golden liqueur would be handed round in crystal of dainty patterns. The next, a vast volume of steam would screen the guest from the opposite neighbours, as it cleared away revealing a pyramid of potatoes steaming in their skins, the centre-piece and leading feature of that day's feast. These genial souls were everything by turn, gourmands, wine-bibbers, vegetarians, total abstainers, and it would be hard to say which conditions became them best. How easy, how charming, how gracious, was the master as he pressed every one to partake largely of the best! How readily the guests caught his mood and showed themselves in their gayest, pleasantest humour! How the children listened, smiled, enjoyed! It was incomparable.

Geoff sat by Georgie's side as usual, and thought her new dress perfection. Bella had had the principal hand in making it, she told him, pointing admiringly to its scarlet trimmings.

"And Bella's new dress will be ready by next Sunday," she added. "But please taste this pastry, it is of my making. I do not expect it to be very good. I am not fond of cooking. I think I should care more about Latin and Euclid."

"Then when we live together, in our little house, you shall read in the study and I will see to the dinner in the kitchen."

Geoff made this little speech unblushingly. Most growing lads, with huge appetites and an affection for pastry, regard the career of a chef with envy. Georgie turned the conversation demurely. It was an understood thing that they were to be married some day, but she thought it folly to make such frequent allusions to it before other people.

Geoff," she began by way of changing the conversation, "I do want to learn out of your books. Will you lend me some of the hard ones? Papa gives us lessons at odd times in everything, when he can, but that is not often, sometimes scarcely once a week. I think I shall never grow clever at that rate." "What do you want to be clever for?" asked the lad.

"I have already taught the little ones all that I know, and I want to be able to go on with their studies," Georgie replied; then, with a proud little toss of the large curly. black head, added, "I intend to be a superior person."

"Like Bella, I suppose?"

"Bella would like to learn some things too, though she is very superior already, but she has the house to keep and the children to mind, and not a spare minute. Hush! papa is going to say grace."

The benediction given, all rose from the table. Ralph, having conducted grannie to the drawing-room and comfortably seated her in her easy-chair, retired with Durham to smoke a quiet cigar in his tiny study below. Some went one way, some another; every corner of the house was soon animated with gay young voices. Geoff and Georgie undertook to give the very little ones what they called a Scripture object-lesson, by means of Noah's ark and other toys. Bella assembled the rest round the piano and in a sweet, untrained voice taught them little songs and hymns, cousin Alice joining, grannie waking up occasionally to nod and smile approval with the pleasant assurance of being perpetually amused.

Meantime the two men, after the usual long discussion upon metaphysics, literature, or their immediate work-both were authors in widely different fields-finished up with a little practical talk.

"Is it decided that Geoffrey goes to a public school, then?" asked Ralph.

"I suppose so, although a definite answer has not come from his father. He now goes to the grammar-school daily, as you know; but, much as I disapprove of public schools, I find that he wants more companionship than I can give him. Whilst the other lads were in the house it did very well.”

"True. He needs what all young people should have-life in a little world, before trying that of the great stage on which he must play his part. You make him good and happy, but you do not try him as he must be tried on a large scale hereafter."

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