The next morning Ernest and I set out, his brothers having preceded us.

Poor Ernest regretted, as we went, that he had no share in these happy schemes for his mother.

I reminded him, however, of his dutiful care of her during her sickness, and all his endeavours to amuse her.

"And, besides," added I, "did you not make her a straw bonnet ?" "Yes," said he, "and I now remember what a frightful shape it was.

I will try to make a better, and will go to-morrow morning to choose my straw." As we approached Tent House, we heard a most singular noise, echoing at intervals amongst the rocks.