THE LAST WORD.

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she lifted the candle and walked softly up stairs before me into the nursery; there were five little white-heads, and ten little rosy-cheeks, nestled among the pillows, and I felt a proud, parental joy in gazing upon their healthy, happy faces, and listening to their robust breathings.

"These," said Mrs. S., in a whisper, as she shaded the light, "are my jewels."

"And mine too, Mrs. Sparrowgrass," said I.

"Yes," whispered Mrs. S., very seriously," and if ever I should be taken away from them, I want you to promise me one thing."

"Tell me what it is," said I, very much determined that I would do it, whatever it might be.

"Promise me," said Mrs. S., "that while they are growing up you will keep them from the citythat their little minds and bodies may be trained and taught by these pure influences, that, so long as they are under your direction, you will not deprive them of the great privilege they now enjoy-that of living in the country."

CAPTAIN DAVIS:

A CALIFORNIAN BALLAD.

THE sources of the following ballad are to be found in the California papers of December, 1854. It appears from letters published in the Mountain Democrat (extra) and the Sacramento Statesman, (extra) that a party of miners were encamped near Rocky-Cañon, a deep and almost inaccessible, uninhabited, rocky gorge, near Todd's Valley; and it happened that some of them were out hunting near the cañon, in which they saw "three men quietly following the trail to prospect a mine of gold-bearing quartz in the vicinity. Suddenly, a party of banditti sprang out of a thicket, and commenced firing at the three who were prospecting. James McDonald. of Alabama, was killed at the first shot.

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