cocoa-nut tree. Many of the trees I saw were at least thirty feet from the ground to the lowest leaves. I frequently counted from twenty to twenty-four leaves on a single tree, the stalk of each leaf being six or eight feet long, and the broad leaf itself, four or six

more.

In the fan-like head of the traveller's tree there were generally three or four branches of seed-pods. The parts of fructification seemed to be enclosed in a tough, firm spalke, like those of the cocoa-nut; but the subsequent development was more like the fruit of the plantain. When the pods or seed-vessels, of which there were forty or fifty on each branch, were ripe, they burst open, and each pod was seen to enclose thirty or more seeds, in shape like a small bean, but enveloped in a fine silky fibre of the most brilliant blue or purple colour.

But this tree has been most celebrated for containing, even during the most arid season, a large quantity of pure fresh water, supplying to the traveller the place of wells in the desert. The natives affirmed that so abundant and pure was the water, that when men were at work near the trees, they did not take the trouble to go to the stream for water, but drew and drank the water from the tree. Having been somewhat sceptical on this point, I determined to examine some of the trees; and during my journey stopped near a clump of them. One of my bearers struck a spear four or five inches deep into the thick firm end of the leaf-stalk, about six inches above its junction with the trunk, and on drawing it back a stream of water gushed out, about a quart of which we caught in a pitcher, and all drank of it on the spot. It was cool, clear, and perfectly sweet. There is a kind of natural cavity or cistern at the base of

the stalk of each leaf above its union with the stem, and the water collected in the broad and ribbed surface of the leaf flows down a groove or spout on the upper side of the stalk into this reservoir, whence it supplies nutriment to the tree and refreshment to the traveller.

But in Madagascar this tree might also, with propriety, be called the builder's tree.

Its leaves form the thatch of all the houses on the eastern side of the island. The stems of its leaves form the partitions, and often sides of the houses, and the hard outside bark is stripped from the inner and softer part, and having been beaten out, is laid for flooring; and I have seen the entire floor of a long well-built house covered with this bark, each piece being at least eighteen inches wide, and twenty or thirty feet long. The leaf, when green, is used as a wrapper for packages, and keeps out the rain. Large quantities are also sold every morning in the markets, as it serves the purpose of tablecloths, dishes and plates at meals, and, folded into certain shapes, is used instead of spoons and drinking vessels.-Ellis's "Madagascar."

LESSON LXXXIII.-FIDELITY.

A barking sound the shepherd hears,
A cry as of a dog or fox:

He halts, and searches with his
Among the scattered rocks,

eye

And now at distance can discern
A stirring in a brake of fern;
And instantly a dog is seen,
Glancing through that covert green.

The dog is not of mountain breed;
Its motions, too, are wild and shy;

With something, as the shepherd thinks,
Unusual in its cry:

Nor is there anyone in sight,

All round in hollow or on height;

Nor shout nor whistle strikes his ear:
What is the creature doing here?

It was a cave, a huge recess,

That keeps, till June, December's snow; A lofty precipice in front,

A silent tarn below;

Far in the bosom of Helvellyn,

Remote from public road or dwelling,
Pathway or cultivated land;

From trace of human foot or hand.

There sometimes doth a leaping fish
Send through the tarn a lonely cheer;
The crags repeat the raven's croak
In symphony austere;

Thither the rainbow comes, the cloud-
And mists that spread the flying shroud,
And sunbeams; and the sounding blast,
That, if it could, would hurry past;
But that enormous barrier holds it fast.

Not free from boding thoughts awhile
The shepherd stood; then makes his way
O'er rocks and stones, following the dog
As quickly as he may;

Nor far had gone before he found
A human skeleton on the ground:

The appalled discoverer with a sigh
Looks round to learn the history.
From those abrupt and perilous rocks
The man had fallen, that place of fear,
At length upon the shepherd's mind
It breaks, and all is clear:

He instantly recalled the name,

And who he was, and whence he came;
Remembered, too, the very day

On which the traveller passed that way.

But hear a wonder, for whose sake
This lamentable tale I tell;

A lasting monument of words

This wonder merits well.

The dog, which still was hovering nigh,

Repeating the same timid cry,

This dog had been through three months' space

A dweller in that savage place.

Yes, proof was plain that since the day

When this ill-fated traveller died,

The dog had watched about the spot,

Or by his master's side:

How nourished there through that long time,
He knows who gave that love sublime;
And gave that strength of feeling, great,
Above all human estimate.-Wordsworth.

LESSON LXXXIV.-ELEPHANTS DRINKING.

In the height of the dry season, at Nuerakalana, the streams are all dried up, and the tanks nearly so. All animals are then sorely pressed for water, and they con gregate in the vicinity of those tanks, in which there may remain ever so little of the precious element.

During one of these seasons I was encamped on the bund or embankment of a small tank, the water in which was so dried that its surface could not have exceeded an area of 500 square yards. It was the only pond within many miles, and I knew that of necessity a very large herd of elephants, which had been in the neighbourhood all day, must resort to it at night.

On the lower side of the tank, and in a line with the embankment, was a thick forest, in which the elephants sheltered themselves during the day. On the upper side, and all around the tank, there was a considerable margin of open ground. It was one of those beautiful, bright, clear, moonlight nights, when objects could be seen almost as distinctly as by day; and I determined to avail myself of the opportunity to observe the movements of the herd, which had already manifested some uneasiness at our presence. The locality was very favourable for my purpose, and an enormous tree, projecting over the tank, afforded me a secure lodgement in its branches. Having ordered the fires of my camp to be extinguished at an early hour, and all my followers to retire to rest, I took up my post of observation on the overhanging bough; but I had to remain for upwards of two hours before anything was to be seen or heard of the elephants, although I knew they were within 500 yards of me. At length, at about 300 yards from the water, an unusually large elephant issued from the dense cover, and advanced cautiously across the open ground to within 100 yards of the tank, where he stood perfectly motionless. So quiet had the elephants become (though they had been roaring and breaking the jungle throughout the day and evening) that not a movement was now to be heard. The huge vidette