MARLBOROUGH COLLEGE. 21 



from her a box of tablets, made with soap, to resemble gaily 

 coloured eggs. But these I did not care about, as the school was 

 liberal in the washing line. I was not satisfied however until I had 

 cut one open and tasted it, when finding further examination useless, 

 I presented box and all to the detective who had mistaken my 

 identity, hoping he would remember me another time. 



Once I received a small hamper from Algiers, and on opening it I 

 found it contained, to my great delight, eggs, real eggs this time, of 

 the Roller, Bee-eater, and Barbary-partridge, all rare "British birds." 

 I did not meet the donor until many years had passed, and then I 

 told him how much pleasure he had given me ; I said I had marked 

 my calendar with a red letter on that day ; I had thought of him in 

 Palestine, when I found a colony of Bee-eaters building in a sand 

 bank, and so on, until he laughingl}' replied, that I reminded him of 

 the Yankee proverb, " Cast thy bread upon the waters, and it shall 

 return to thee, as buttered toast, after many days." 



Several officers of the Franklin expedition dined at my grand- 

 mother's house shortly before they set out on their disastrous arctic 

 voyage, and Captain Fitz-James, who had taken a liking to me, 

 begged my people to let me accompany the expedition. Perhaps 

 my alleged propensity for climbing trees was considered good 

 training for keeping a sharp look-out from the mast-head. But 

 destiny had decreed that I should earn my bread within the tropics, 

 and so the proposal to turn me into a sailor came to nothing. 



The Franklin expedition subsequently formed the subject of a 

 prize poem at Marlborough College, and considering the narrow 

 escape I had, I took much interest in it, and something resembling 

 a cold shudder came over me when the poet read out the lines, 

 which I have some reason to remember, and which I have always 

 thought are very good. 



" But there, no Bernard dog, no convent bell. 

 Naught but the wolf to howl their parting knell, 

 Naught but th' Aurora, bursting through the gloom, 

 A torch to light them to their icy tomb." 



