"There," said Mr. Waffles, handing him another bumper; "drink, Fox-hunting."

"Fox-huntin'," said old Tom, quaffing off the measure, as before. A flush of life came into his weather-beaten face, just as a glow of heat enlivens a blacksmith's hearth, after a touch of the bellows.

"You must never let this bumptious cock beat us," observed Mr. Waffles.

"No-o-o," replied Tom, adding, "there's no fear of that." "But he swears he will!" exclaimed Mr. Caingey Thornton. swears there isn't a man shall come within a field of him."

"He

"Indeed," observed Tom, with a twinkle of his little bright eyes. "I tell you what, Tom," observed Mr. Waffles, "we must sarve him out, somehow."

"Oh! he'll sarve hissel' out, in all probability," replied Tom; carelessly adding, "these boastin' chaps always do."

"Couldn't we contrive something," asked Mr. Waffles, "to draw him out ?"

Tom was silent. He was a hunting huntsman, not a riding one. "Have a glass of something," said Mr. Waffles, again appealing to the Fox's head.

"Thank you, sir, I've had a glass," replied Tom, sinking the second

one.

"What will you have?" asked Mr. Waffles.

"Port, if you please," replied Tom.

"Here it is," rejoined Mr. Waffles, again handing him the measure. Up went the cup, over went the contents; but Tom set it down with a less satisfied face than before. He had had enough. The left leg prop, too, gave way, and he was nearly toppling on the table.

Having got a chair for the dilapidated old man, they again essayed to get him into their line with better success than before. Having plied him well with port, they now plied him well with the stranger, and what with the one and the other, and a glass or two of brandy-andwater, Tom became very tractable, and it was ultimately arranged that they should have a drag over the very stiffest part of the country, wherein all who liked should take part, but that Mr. Caingey Thornton and Mr. Spareneck should be especially deputed to wait upon Mr. Sponge, and lead him into mischief. Of course it was to be a "profound secret," and equally, of course, it stood a good chance of being kept, seeing how many were in it, the additional number it would have to be communicated to before it could be carried out, and the happy state old Tom was in for arranging matters. Nevertheless, our friends at the "Imperial" congratulated themselves on their "diplomacy;" and after a few minutes spent in discussing old Tom on his withdrawal, the party broke

up, to array themselves in the splendid dress uniform of the

"Hunt," to meet again at Miss Jumpheavy's ball.

A HURRICANE IN ANTIGUA.

BY CAPTAIN MACKINNON, R.N.,

66

AUTHOR OF STEAM-WARFARE IN THE PARANA."

READER, were you ever in a West-Indian hurricane? If such has been your lot, I am sure you will agree with me in heartily and anxiously wishing never to behold one again; for though there is something strangely fascinating in scenes of terror, few desire to renew their acquaintance with them.

The following description of an unusually severe elemental convulsion, is derived from notes taken while on a visit, in August, a few years ago, to a friend at Dry-Hill House, in the vicinity of St. John's, the capital of Antigua. It is the faint record of a calamity which will be memorable in the annals of that unfortunate island.

The inmates of my friend's mansion were one morning early astir, and actively employed in preparations for a marriage-feast. With the happy, careless air, peculiar to their race, negro women and children were bustling among the large and luxuriant foliage, which, if it every now and then concealed them from view, could not stifle the sound of their rapid chattering, their giggling laughter, and snatches of songs, conveyed in the queer negro dialect. This irrepressible animation, reckless gaiety, and vivacious defiance of care, can hardly be imagined by the inhabitants of our northern climate. The merriment of negroes surpasses that of any other branch of the great human family.

I also had risen early on this festive occasion, being unwilling to lose any portion of the hilarity which I knew would commence with the earliest light of morning. Never shall I forget the splendour with which the day broke-a splendour to be witnessed only in the tropics. The sun slowly rose from the glass-like sea, first glancing on a few clouds which had congregated, then

Flattering the mountain-tops with sovereign eye,

and gradually revealing the gorgeous colours of the vegetation. I gazed with rapture on the serene magnificence, and the language of the Psalmist was not unremembered: "The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament showeth his handy-work."

My ruminations, at this moment, were disturbed by one of the servants (a black girl), who brought me a cup of coffee and a cigar-the usual morning custom on a West-Indian plantation. It struck me that something uncommon, nay, even ominous, was observable in the expression of her countenance, and I waited, with no little curiosity, to hear what she had to communicate.

"Hy, massa," said she, "here de coffee. How you do dis morning?" Then, with a significant glance, she added, "Ole massa, he say, will nyung massa look at 'rometer ?"

"Thank you, Nancy," I replied, "it will be time enough to inspect

the weather-glass when I have finished my coffee. How are you, Nancy ?"

"So-so, rader poorly, tank God, massa," rejoined the girl as, with a sigh, she left me.

"Very mysterious," thought I, "is this message about the barometer with my morning coffee. It never occurred before during my visit here. Something strange must be in the weather. Let me see if I can find it out."

I accordingly looked carefully round at all points of the compass; but nothing extraordinary was perceptible, excepting that a dull haze crept languidly over the scene, and the silence was awful.

In a few minutes, having finished my cigar, I went into my friend's bed-room. Though generally an early riser, he was, on this occasion, still in bed.

"Hallo!" exclaimed I, "why are you still there? Up, man, up, and set to work you have plenty to do this day."

"Heaven grant," responded he, "that I may not have too much to do before a few hours are past. There's a hurricane in the air-I am sure of it."

"Stuff and nonsense!" I rejoined. "The barometer stands firmly at 30; it has rather gone up since yesterday."

"My dear boy," returned he, emphatically, "I have been thirty years a resident in the West Indies. During that time I have witnessed eight hurricanes. The last three were foreshadowed by my own sensations. These sensations are now aggravated tenfold. A terrible day is before us."

That forebodings like those under which my friend then suffered, are unerring, I have since that time ascertained. They are produced by two causes, namely, physical derangement, and observation of meteorological peculiarities. In his treatise on European Colonies, Mr. Howison observes," Persons long resident in the West Indian islands are able to foretell the approach of hurricanes with tolerable accuracy, by the observation of certain atmospherical phenomena; but this kind of knowledge proves, unfortunately, of little avail, either on shore or at sea; the violence of the tempest generally rendering impotent all precautions that may be employed against its destructive effects. On the day preceding the hurricane, the weather is almost always calm and sultry, and the sea-breeze does not set in at the usual hour, or, perhaps, is not felt at all; the sky is red and hazy, and the horizon surcharged with clouds; the noise of the surf seems particularly loud and distinct; and thunder, more or less distant, is heard incessantly. At length the wind begins to blow in shifting gusts, and to lull again; these increase in strength and frequency, and ere long the blast comes roaring from one quarter with concentrated fury." This, no doubt, is generally correct; but it does not precisely describe the morning witnessed by me.

As I perceived my friend to be so much in earnest, and that he was suffering greatly under his apprehensions, I gave into his humour, and promised to note accurately the appearances of the weather, and the movements of the mercury in the barometer.

This assurance seemed a little to relieve him.

"I shall leave all preparations and precautions to you," said he. “I

am quite unnerved, as is always the case when these fearful tempests are breeding in the air. The hurricane will be upon us within twenty-four hours."

It cannot be supposed that a young man who, for five years previously, had been knocking about in all parts of the world in small vessels, could sympathise with the climate-worn and sensitive planter. I, therefore, left the bed-room in excellent spirits; not only without apprehension, but actually longing for the hurricane to arrive, as excellent fun; so rash and thoughtless is youth.

Outside the house I met Betsey, the staid black housekeeper, feeding the poultry.

66

"Well, Betsey," said I, massa say hurricane come to-day."

Never did a few words produce such a change in the person who heard them. The woman's gabble to the cocks and hens ceased suddenly. A grave, disconcerted look supplanted the good-humoured smile which had played about her thick lips. I might almost say she turned pale; and the measure of corn fell from her hands. It was evident that until now she had heard nothing of her master's prognostications.

"Oh ky, ky!" sobbed she. "Massa always right;" and off she ran in violent perturbation.

"The devil!" exclaimed I, "here's a pretty kettle of fish!”

In a few minutes, the whole household was in violent commotion. Messengers were instantly despatched to the sugar-works (about half a mile inland), and also to the cove, where an establishment of small vessels was kept for various purposes, such as sugar-droghing, collecting coral to burn into lime, &c. Meantime, the table in the dining-room was removed, disclosing a huge trap-door leading down to a spacious cellar. Into this chasm, contrived as a place of refuge during hurricanes, the scared niggerkind conveyed all the most portable articles of value.

By nine o'clock, all needful preparations were completed, and a hurried breakfast was snatched. The barometer certainly had a downward tendency, having fallen .03 but there was no other perceptible indication of a change. A light air from E. N. E. had now set inthe usual trade-wind; but all was placid and beautiful as before. In the yard grew a magnificent tamarind-tree loaded with nearly ripe fruit. The pods hung in large and tempting clusters, and the foliage, gently agitated by the breeze, gracefully waved to and fro.

The domestic animals were evidently disturbed: their manner was hurried and uneasy. They clearly had a knowledge of impending evil.

Not being so sceptical as to disbelieve these signs, slight as they were, I kept all my senses on the alert, watching alternately the mercury in the barometer, and the signs of the weather. By eleven o'clock, a more decided fall in the glass was evident; it had gone down to 29.80 To the northward the horizon had darkened considerably. The tradewind, however, still swept gently and refreshingly over us; but at two P.M. it died away, and then the mercury fell considerably.

All doubt about the approaching tempest was now dispelled. The inhabitants of the small cottages in the vicinity, belonging to the estate, flocked up to Dry-Hill House, to seek consolation from companionship with the white people.

A light breeze soon sprang up from the north, and as it rose, the mercury fell. At three o'clock a furious gale was raging. Being anxious to observe the proceedings of the shipping, I slipped out at the back part of the house, and went down towards a cliff overlooking the anchorage.

To my great disgust as a sailor, I perceived, amongst the twelve merchant vessels lying in the roads, that only four were making any preparations to withstand the tempest. Three were at single anchor with a short scope of chain, and topgallant yards across, and one brig with royal yards and head-sails loosed. Such bare-faced and lubberly carelessness is almost incredible. Old Columbus knew better. He soon made himself master of the signs preceding a hurricane in the West Indies. "When he was off the principal Spanish West Indian settlement in St Domingo, he foresaw that a fearful storm would shortly arise, and sent to Ovando, the governor of the place, to request that he might be allowed to take refuge in the harbour; but this being refused, he was obliged to stand out to sea, and face the storm. 'What man, without excepting even Job would not have died of despair,' says Columbus, to find that, at a crisis when the lives of myself, my son, my brother, and my friends were in danger, I was prohibited from approaching that country, and those ports which, under the blessing of God, I had purchased for Spain at the expense of my blood?' At this time a fleet of twenty-four ships was about to set sail for Spain, carrying large quantities of gold and pearls, partly the revenues of the king, and partly the property of those private individuals who were passengers on board. Columbus, notwithstanding Ovando's inhumanity, advised him to detain the fleet a few days, because a hurricane was likely soon to occur; but his warnings were treated with contempt, and the vessels were suffered to proceed on their voyage. Before the close of the following day, twenty of their number with 1500 persons had foundered in the tempest. The loss of treasure on this occasion was so great as to affect the financial resources of Spain for several years after."*

As the wind still steadily increased, I considered it best to get back to the shelter of the house. To enable me to do this conveniently, it was necessary I should creep along under the garden bank, which offered some protection against the gale. Not having the slightest idea that the force of the wind would be so enormous in this early stage of the hurricane, I attempted to walk past a gateway, and being instantly struck by the full power of the blast, was rolled over, and driven as by a giant's strength violently along the ground. For a moment, I gave myself up for lost, as the harbour of St. John was directly in my compelled course. Fortunately, before coming to the open water, the land declined into a bushy marsh. Here, assisted by the underwood, I clung firmly to

mother Earth.

After resting awhile and collecting my thoughts, I succeeded, by taking advantage of the nature of the ground, which sheltered me in some measure from the wind, in regaining the yard of Dry Hill House. The stunning roar of the blast continued, and the noble tamarind-tree, writhing seemingly in agony, was grinding its huge limbs, whipping off

Howison's "Colonies."