'Ah, he may never think of that,' said the mother, who well understood her little girl; 'but perhaps you, child, may get something; father thinks of his little Anna-he does.'

'Does mother think so? Do you hear, Anders? Mother thinks that father will buy us something fine. How grand it must be down there! There are many hundred people, father says, and he was there even before we were born. He was a farm-servant down there with a captain-a captain who had such a fine uniform, and a sword, and all that.'

Anders, who sat and carved wooden spoons, looked up and laughed. Anna! she wants to be so grand-she does. I wonder, now, what she will have—a necklace, or a ring on her little bit of a finger?'

Anna's cheerful face took a shade of displeasure. So Anders talks! But I shall get nothing, for I can do nothing useful. It is different with Anders, who can sit and carve spoons, and set out nets in the forest, and is quite like a man: he is past thirteen years old, and I am not ten; and so'

"You are both good, clever children, both of you,' said the mother; if you would only read your lessons, which always go heavily on.'

'Yes, that is because I never can be at peace for Anders. Now, do not look at me, Anders. I say, don't look at me, or I shall jumble the words altogether.' Anna began to read; the restless blue eyes wandered often from the crooked German characters of her book. She read a tale of a boy who was very good, and very poor. 'Yes, that is a truly beautiful story,' she said, hastily closing the volume; but does it not appear wonderful that he should not be happy when he was so good?"

Ah, child, do not believe that happiness and riches are always united,' said the mother.

The girl looked at her, as if she did not quite comprehend her meaning. Mother must know that it is happier to be great, and rich, and admired, than to be poor and never thought of by any one.' 'Sister Anna is like the wooden spoon,' said Anders, without stopping his work.

Like the wooden spoon! Am I like a wooden spoon? Well, that is amusing!'

'Yes. You see, Anna, there was once on a time a wooden spoon'

'I will not listen to you, Anders.'

"That is no matter. There was once a wooden spoon'

'I tell you, I do not hear you, Anders.'

'That also is no matter. Once a wooden spoon, that was so fine, so neat, so pretty, made of the best wood, and carved in the most beautiful manner-one could never see a more delicate and tasteful wooden spoon; and no one took it up without saying: "Ack, how

covered with radish and sea-side oats. A small fort was situated on the sea-shore, of which there is nothing now visible but the ditches and part of one wall. Another, of considerable size for the place, is on a high and commanding spot. It contained barracks for soldiers, which, as well as the greater part of the fort, are ruined; but the flag-staff, front wall, and a turret are standing; and at the foot of the flag-staff lies a very handsome brass gun, cast in Spain, 1614 A.D. A few houses and cottages are still in a tolerable condition, though most of the doors, windows, and roofs have been taken away, or used as fuel by whalers and other ships touching here. In the valleys we found numbers of European shrubs and herbs-"where once the garden smiled." And in the half-ruined hedges, which denote the boundaries of former fields, we found apple, pear, and quince trees, with cherries almost ripe. The ascent is steep and rapid from the beach, even in the valleys, and the long grass was dry and slippery, so that it rendered the walk rather fatiguing; and we were glad to sit down under a large quince-tree on a carpet of balm, bordered with roses, now neglected, and feast our eyes with the lovely view before us. Lord Anson has not exaggerated the beauty of the place, or the delights of the climate. We were rather early for its fruits, but even at this time we have gathered delicious figs, cherries, and pears, that a few days more of sun would have perfected. The landing-place is also the wateringplace. There a little jetty is thrown out, formed of the beach pebbles, making a little harbour for boats, which lie there close to the fresh water, which comes conducted by a pipe, so that, with a hose, the casks may be filled without landing with the most delicious water. Along the beach some old guns are sunk, to serve as moorings for vessels, which are all the safer the nearer in-shore they lie, as violent gusts of wind often blow from the mountain for a few minutes. The height of the island is about three thousand feet.'

ment.

With all its beauties and resources, the island seemed destined never to retain those who settled on it-whether from its isolated position at so great a distance from the continent, or from some other cause, is uncertain. Not long after Lord Cochrane's visit, however, it received an accession of inhabitants, some of them English, who settled in it under the protection of the Chilian governIt was afterwards held in lease by an American company; and according to the latest accounts it was ceded in 1868 to a society of Germans, under the guidance of an engineer of the name of Robert Wehrhan, who intended to colonise it. On taking possession they found it overrun by countless herds of goats, some thirty half-wild horses, and sixty donkeys. In 1868, Commodore Powell and the officers of H.M.S. Topaze erected a tablet on the island commemorative of Selkirk's solitary sojourn. It is firmly set into hard rock at a point near Selkirk's outlook, 'a beautiful spot about 1700 feet above the sea, having an extensive sea-view.'

THE WOODEN SPOON.

ALTERED FROM THE SWEDISH.*

HERE is silence in the forests. Nothing is more beautiful than on a fine sunny summer-day to wander in the vast firforests of Sweden, especially those which are here and there broken up by patches of light-green grass, covered over by pieces of moss-grown rocks and solitary in these few open places, that, unless a trap is seen, set in the winter to catch foxes, one might believe no human being had ever been there.

tall birch-trees.

It is so

Every Swede feels a necessity for being alone at times with himself; he indulges a fervent love for that quiet hidden nature, within whose shade he played when a child. Always, even in the most stirring scenes of life, he hears a voice from his silent forests,

The beginning of this story is translated from a Swedish work by Uncle Adam.' Throughout the remainder, the original idea only has been preserved.

inviting him to peace and tranquillity, calling him back to all that is most beautiful, good, and holy in his experience.

There lies near to the mountain-chain that separates Sweden from Norway, a narrow dale, bounded by high hills; a light-green birchforest spreads its shade round a small lake, which is so full of islands that the water seems to be divided into several sparkling mirrors reflecting them underneath. This lake is hidden among the mountains and almost endless fir-forests of Norrland: few have heard of it, but those who once visit it will often think, amid the tumult of the world, of that wild, yet peaceful scene. Behind the birch-wood, the land rises in high terraces; fir and pine trees tower up there, and look like the forest's head-so dark-green and tall, so grave and solemn. But still higher on the mountain come the birches again, for these trees form in the north both the front and rear-guard of the great fir-forests. High over all appears a peak of snow; and a hundred mountain-streams trickle through the dark trees, and carry their white foam over rocks and stones, to cast themselves into the lake, or join the river that flows from it.

It is well this place is so little known, or so much forgotten; were it otherwise, some speculator might erect a cottage on the banks of the lake, in Swiss style, in order to hire it out to an Englishman, who wished to get rid of his spleen by means of fishing. If I could guide you thither, however, you would immediately perceive one solitary red wooden house, which stands on the edge of the forest, and quite near to the lake. The ground at the back has been cleared, and is now divided into corn and pasture fields, the former of which sometimes yield more than the seed which was sown in them. One must not expect too much from good Mother Nature, up here in the north, for she is poor, good mother, very poor, and therefore, perhaps, all the dearer for what she gives. Almost the only communication which the inhabitants of this red wooden house had with the rest of the world was yearly, in the beginning of March, when 'the housefather,' its owner, had to travel between fifty and sixty miles off, in order to sell to 'rich Erik,' the farmer, a quantity of fish-a sort of char, which in these mountain lakes are of superior quality-and some hundreds of ptarmigan, which had been taken in nets, and were to be transmitted to Stockholm. This journey was a great event in the Norrland 'new-settler's' house: the two children, especially, were long beforehand engaged in preparing father's travelling necessaries, and in feeding up the two reindeer which should draw the sledge, with all its precious load, to its destination. On the present occasion, father's journey had caused even more excitement, for he had gone so far as to the market-town-more than one hundred miles from his home.

'I think,' said little Anna, one evening when they were looking for his return-I think father will bring something grand for mother; yes; I think mother will get something.'

'Ah, he may never think of that,' said the mother, who well understood her little girl; 'but perhaps you, child, may get something; father thinks of his little Anna-he does.'

'Does mother think so? Do you hear, Anders? Mother thinks that father will buy us something fine. How grand it must be down there! There are many hundred people, father says, and he was there even before we were born. He was a farm-servant down there with a captain-a captain who had such a fine uniform, and a sword, and all that.'

Anders, who sat and carved wooden spoons, looked up and laughed. 'Anna! she wants to be so grand-she does. I wonder, now, what she will have—a necklace, or a ring on her little bit of a finger?'

Anna's cheerful face took a shade of displeasure. So Anders talks! But I shall get nothing, for I can do nothing useful. It is different with Anders, who can sit and carve spoons, and set out nets in the forest, and is quite like a man: he is past thirteen years old, and I am not ten; and so'

You are both good, clever children, both of you,' said the mother; ‘if you would only read your lessons, which always go heavily on.'

'Yes, that is because I never can be at peace for Anders. Now, do not look at me, Anders. I say, don't look at me, or I shall jumble the words altogether.' Anna began to read; the restless blue eyes wandered often from the crooked German characters of her book. She read a tale of a boy who was very good, and very poor. 'Yes, that is a truly beautiful story,' she said, hastily closing the volume; but does it not appear wonderful that he should not be happy when he was so good?"

Ah, child, do not believe that happiness and riches are always united,' said the mother.

The girl looked at her, as if she did not quite comprehend her meaning. Mother must know that it is happier to be great, and rich, and admired, than to be poor and never thought of by any one.' 'Sister Anna is like the wooden spoon,' said Anders, without stopping his work.

Like the wooden spoon! Am I like a wooden spoon? Well, that is amusing!'

'Yes. You see, Anna, there was once on a time a wooden spoon'

'I will not listen to you, Anders.'

'That is no matter. There was once a wooden spoon'

'I tell you, I do not hear you, Anders.'

'That also is no matter. Once a wooden spoon, that was so fine, so neat, so pretty, made of the best wood, and carved in the most beautiful manner-one could never see a more delicate and tasteful wooden spoon; and no one took it up without saying: “Ack, how