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---now I GOT TO IT AT LAST.

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now I GOT TO IT AT LAST. Never say die." That's a god motto, take inv w .rd for it. Aud you uuu'tdo better than to it fur your guide, whether you are entitled to 8port heraldic bearings and long I-atin rigmaroles or not. Don't be beaten; no matter how great the obstacles that stand in your way, not. if they be as big as Mynydd Maen. The obstacle that stood in my way WAS Mynydcl Maen. And I 've beaten him. I havo found out the Bird House. Must of you who live in Pontypool have heard of the Bird House, and that it is some- where on the top of the mountain. And if I did make bets, but I never do, I would lay a wage? that not one in a hundred of you has seen it ur would be able to describe it any bet- ter than he could describe Aladdin's palace. It is not easily found, unless one has a friend who kiio.vsthe way. You have been amused by my accounts of how I attempted to get to it, and may be so to follow me in the success- ful journey. First, I tried over Penyrheol and up the spur of the mountain overlooking Cwmbran. Another time I went up by CWT Likey and on to the brow above Pontypool iNo Bird House rewarded my exertions. The third ascent was by way of the Glyn Pond. Here a nice broad walk, a little rough in places, led to the summit, and commanded some fine views. Winding up and up, we found plenty to admire. The bill side, slo- ping rapidly upwards, showed such compact cushions of dark green moss as are not often met with, interspersed with tufts of that sin- gular silvery little plant which the reindeer scrapes from under the snow in more northern countries, The giddy height, from which the trains on the railway below appeared mere toys and the labourers at work on the line were no bigger than flies, afforded us in one direction a beautiful view of the country towards J'onty- pool, with the Glyn Ponds glittering far down in the hollow in the foreground, the white houses of the town fringing the swells in the back ground, and the familiar Folly tower in the far distance in another direction, the ro- mantic ravine extending towards Crumlin un- folded its secrets and, further to the left, the eye ranged over a glorious panorama of moun- t.iin tops, lifting one over the other, and fading away on the horizon in soft and delicate tints. Striking out of the path, and disturbing sun- dry grouse, I came upon a boundary stone di- viding the properties of the Hanbury and the Llanover estates, and soon afterwards found myself stopped by a bog. The long coarse C, Z, tufts of grass, between which lurked the inky puddles, spread everywhere upwards; and I turned back, having failed to discover the Bird House, baffled, but not beaten. "Never say die," dwelt in my recollection. But I resolved that next time I would have a com- panion who knew the way. After many in- quiries, two who appeared to possess the de- sired knowledge were found. We fixed a day, and for the fourth time I began the Quest, not pf the Holy Graal, but of the Bird House. "The winds of March were blowing," j there was no mistake about it, as we started. not gone far before there was a shower, and not an ordinary shower, for it rained gra- stones, blown from a neighbouring bank. A queerer shower than that has conic within iiiv experience, to wit, a shower of frogs. A certain man had in a certain town encroach- ed upon some public grounds, and sought to deprive the poor of privileges which had been bequeathed by a man of a better stamp So one fine day, down came the frogs. Frogs be- strewed the road, frogs stuck all over the walls, frogs swam in the water tanks, frogs crept up the door-steps for perhaps a hundred yards, there were thousands and thousands of frogs, all about the same size, about half-an-indi long, Of course it was "a judgment!" Peo- pli/izi that part •' had not had the skin rubbed off their eyes," and it was not to the rector's interest to enlighten them, as he got £ 2,000 a-year for doing nothing and was most of his time far away spending it, leaving to a couple of curates the hard labour of reading the Sun- day sermons. With such reverend instructors, it was nojwonder that the folks firmly believed in judgments and it did not occur to them that the premises of many unoffending parties were as plentifully bespattered with frogs as were those of the aggressor, and that that was not quite fair. But, judgment or no judg- ment, there were the frogs, all alive and kick- ing and I tried to preserve some of them, but in the course of a few days they shrivelled up like bits of leather. My own observation of this makes me easily believe the assurance of a worthy Alderman friend (may his shadow never grow less, and a more portly frame was never carried by a justice of the peace), that he waS once overtaken by a shower of rain mixed with little fishes, which had probably been lifted by a whirlwind from some sheet of sta- ter. So much for extraordinary showers. As I and my companions advanced, I had reason to entertain doubts of their trustworthi- ness as guides. Une was for going one way, and t'other t'other. I stopped to light my pipe at a cottage, and asked the good woman there what she thought about it. Bird House, bless you ? She had lived there thirty years, and had never gone to the top yet! My sus- picions were shortly after confirmed: both my friends could follow the broad road to the Race, but were in doubt about the way to Cwm Lik«y At the Kace works, we fortu- nately ran against just what we wanted, a ruan who DID know something about the top of the mountain, and who pointed out to us the pro- per direction. Past the Cwm pits, where all was hfe and bustle; past the rifle range, unmatched fur ruggedness; stopping to admire a natural jet of water, that sprang up some feet and then broke into glittering spray; past the Cwm pool, its clear waters and solemn stillness re- minding me ot' the beautiful Silent Pool afar off in Surrey which Martin Tupper has intro- duced into his tra-hy popular novel Stephan Langtj-n and up, following towards its source the mountain stream which trickle A down the ravine to the left. Hard work it was now, clainbtiing 1 h; steep, knee-deep amid dead ferns aud .ough heath, and clutching now and then something to save ourselves from slipping 'and roiling baok down into the h d.ow. Na- ture was obliged to give way, and I fell pant- ing ameng the ferns. As we rested, we sur- veyed tt.e weird scene from which we were emerging, and noted how beautifully the light glinti'd en the bough tracery of the beeches 1 z7, Z" below us. Up again, tailing and struggling, putfiug and panting; and then another rest. Once more upon our iegs, taking advantage ot the little paths made by the mountain sheep; over a blackened space where the heath had been fired trampling through fresh reaches of heath still bearing last yeur's blossoms and the ground became, to our great relief, more level. We were gaining the summit. Bye- and-bye, we could see bits of the landscapes on the other side the mountain. We were at the top. And very glad was I that we were. Bending our steps towards a Hug staff which is planted at the head of the ravine, one of my friends, who sped along higher ground, and had the additional advantage of longer legs, suddenly pulled up, frantically waved his arm"' and then darted off like a greyhound. The other friend turned and stared at me, and I stated ut him. Wb-c could be the matter? Had the run-a-wav been stung to madness by the wild March winds, as the hares are said to be? Had he rushed to east himself headlong down the precipices overlooking the New Pits 1 Should we find him a mangled corpse, his curly locks dabbled with blood," among the masses cf limestone; and uprooted larches which have been hurled far, far down by the landslips? ..Matters had not, happily, come to that, pass. Or comrade was not mad. He had only discovered the Bird House Yes, there it. u at i;i,,t. X grey ro;tanding out agiinst the skv. and surrounded by bog. Springing from one hillock to [1110- there was now a race between the three of us towards the goal. Up flew the grouse, and on we went, now and then one foot coming down squush in the inky slush. Our long- legged friend was there first, of course but we were not far behind. We had got to it at last. There it was. And between you and I, there was not much of it! Erected, g)od- nese knows when, as a halting place for sports- men, I suppose, it has been a ruin long beyond the memory of the veteran head keeper Mr Maisey or any body else; and disappointed | will be any party who seeks shelter there now. It was a round tower once, built of stones as thin as petrified pancakes, and it had two en- trances, one directly opposite to the other, and there still remain the apertures of two rude little Gothic windows. But the roof has been blown away and left not a trace behind; and the witches, or the winds, have made play- things of the pancakes and thrown them down in cartloads, and there they lie, smeared with pats of mortar, like indigestible bread and but- ter. Shelter, indeed Frank's rosy cheeks turned the colour of a washerwoman's bluebag as lie huddled under the tumbledown walls and pulled the brims of his felt hat down like an extinguisher, to shield himself from the piercing winds; John was pallid as a corpse with cold; and my own face smarted as if stung with nettles. Nevertheless, I squatted out in the waste and made a drawing, while John planted himself to windward to prevent my sketchbook being blown away. And thus I have brought the Bird House down with me off the top of the mountain, and Frank is doomed to sit in front of it for many a long day, in the very attitude that he sat in then, let him think of going as far as lie likes. It was sketching under difficulties; but pipe- lighting in the absence of vesuvians was a far more difficult job, though we achieved even that. And when the sc-nted weed was fairly alight, and had brought a little warmth back into the tips of our noses, then the consciences of my guides smote them, and they confessed that that was the first time that they had ever found their way to the Bird House. The summit of the mountain has too wide a surface to allow of any very grand views being obtained from the ruined building. There are, however, very tantalising glimpses, with just the tip of the cone of the Sugarloaf peep- I ing up in the distance in one direction, and the great tumulus of Twyn Barlwm showing itself in the other, both saying as plain as possible, "Cume over here as soon as you can for we have that to show which will make you love your native land still more and grate- ful for a home amid such beauty." And you may depend upon it that all the heights around us are continually saying the same thing and the more you respond to it the better for your health, your intellect, and your happiness. W. H. GHEENK.

NIGHT SCHOOLS.

LETTER FROM AN EMIGRANT. j

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