"My secret, Mr. Box; it's hurting on me!"

I thought that he had grown delirious; so, in order to soothe him as much
as possible, I forced my hand under his shirt-collar, and what do you think
I found? Why, a PIGTAIL--his pigtail, which he had contrived to conceal
between his shirt and his skin, when the barbarous order of the Admiralty
had been put into execution.

[Illustration: A NAUTICAL TALE.]

* * * * *


SONGS FOR THE SENTIMENTAL.

No. II.

You say you would find
But one, and one only,
Who'd feel without you
That the revel was lonely:
That when you were near,
Time ever was fleetest,
And deem your loved voice
Of all music the sweetest.
Who would own her heart thine,
Though a monarch beset it,
And love on unchanged--
Don't you wish you may get it?