14. "So wills the fierce avenging sprite, Ay, though he's buried in a cave, 15. "O, God! that horrid, horrid dream Besets me now awake! Again, again, with dizzy brain, The human life I take; And my red right hand grows raging hot 16. "And still no peace for the restless clay The horrid thing pursues my soul,- The fearful boy looked up, and saw 17. That very night, while gentle sleep Two stern-faced men set out from Lynn, THOMAS HOOD. N September, 1855, a young woman mounted with a firm step the rocky path up one of the Jura Alps, in Switzerland. She was going to mow some of the coarser grass and roots, which grow on the mountains, as fodder for her goats during the winter. On her left arm she carried a babe, her first-born child, whose age was only reckoned by weeks, and in her right hand she had a scythe. 2. The gaze of the young mother was not fixed on the path, for she knew almost every stone, but on her child, and she did not perceive the dark spot high in the air above her, which now stood still, and then moved round in a narrow circle. The practiced eye of an inhabitant of the Alps would at once have known that this spot was an eagle or a vulture. 3. But the mother walked on not suspicious of danger, only occupied with her child, until she reached a little nook where grew some bright green grass. Here, binding the warm shawl tighter round her infant, she laid it at the foot of a rock close by, where it could rest in the sunshine. Then she vigorously applied her scythe to the scanty grass, which led her on and on till she was at some distance from her child. 4. The eagle, whose nest and hungry brood were not far from the spot, had seen the mother with the babe. From that dizzy height, where the bird only looked like a black point, its far-seeing eye had followed her movements. It saw where she laid the child down on the rock, and it gradually dropped lower and lower; then suddenly it shot down, like a swift arrow, through the air, to the place where the child lay. 5. At last, but too late, the mother heard the whirring of the huge wings, and when she turned round the bird had already fixed its strong claws in the shawl, had seized the child, and flown with it over a fearful abyss. The young woman raised a shriek of anguish. It rang through the clear air, and reached the rocky heights where a few shepherds were feeding their flock of goats. 6. They heard the cry. Full of horror, they sprang up and held their breath. A second shriek quickly followed, and, as they had seen the eagle soaring on high, and knew where her nest was, they at once suspected what had occurred. They left their flocks quietly feeding, and sprang from rock to rock to the meadow, where, on the brink of the abyss, the agonized mother was wringing her hands. 7. "My child! my child!" was the heart-rending cry that met their ears; and they saw at once that if instant help was not rendered her child was lost. The eagle must not be allowed to rest a moment, or else-horrible to think of and neither must she be alarmed by a violent cry, or-the danger was equally great-she would let the child drop into the abyss. 8. Thus, presence of mind and courage were necessary. First, some one must fetch a rope, which was kept in a cottage near by, ready for possible accidents; and they must soothe, as well as they could, the mother, to prevent her from yielding to the wild outbreaks of her grief. They silently separated, and so placed themselves that, concealed as much as possible, they could on all sides observe the eagle's nest. 9. They had not lain long in their hiding-places, when the mighty bird of prey sunk, first in wide circles, then in gradually narrowing ones, towards the nest; but at the moment she dropped the child, the shepherds raised such a wild cry, that, swift as an arrow, she flew away from the eyry, and left the child lying in it. 10. Now that the bird was out of sight, and had probably settled down on some distant peak of rock, the moment for action had arrived. With cool courage, Joseph Imthal, a young shepherd, only seventeen years of age, put his climbing-irons on his feet, seized his staff, made of tough wood, with an iron hook at one end and an iron spike at the other; and, having uttered a short prayer to the Lord, began to climb the mountain over a path of awful peril. 11. The mother eagle saw him, and knew what it was all about. Furiously she darted down, and with a hoarse shriek expressed her rage; then she seemed to nerve herself for a death-struggle. She was as eager to save her children as the bold climber was to save the child for its human mother. 12. The eagle darted towards him, but as she approached she was met by showers of stones and wild cries from the shepherds; yet as the enemy advanced nearer her eyry, she again and again renewed her furious attacks, which were always repelled in the same way. 13. At last Joseph reached the eyry, where the scarcely-fledged young of the eagle, frightened at first by the child dropped in the midst of them, were now terrified by the bold youth, whilst the eagle in her rage dashed against the shallow cleft where he had found. room to sit. He attacked her so vigorously, however, with his staff, that at last, bewildered and stunned, she seemed scarcely to dare another attack. Tal'ons, the claws of a bird. of antelope found among the effort was NLY one part-and that the least dangerous— of Joseph Imthal's heroic effort was performed; the main difficulty was yet to be overcome. How was he to return? He could not go back by the way he came; that was not to be thought of-it was impossible. The only hope was in a rope let down from the crest of the cliff, by means of which he and the child could be drawn up over the yawning chasm. 2. If a single inch of that rope gave way—if a sharp edge of rock jutting out should cut it-if only one |