There lived a jolly miller, frank and free,
Whose name expressed his nature-Sans-Souci.
Honest and thrifty, it was not his way,

To cast to-morrow's burden on to-day;
Right pleasant was his eye and kind his tone,
No lack of custom had he ever known;
Up with the sun, the man of meal was found,
The grist came in and fast the sails went round,
And village maids and swains at close of day,
Flocked to the mill and danced their cares away;
Thus far and wide was spread his honest fame,
And to the mill they gave the miller's name
Auspicious name! whose sound was sure to please
Lovers of Epicurus and of ease

So the king willed, and rumour loud proclaimed,
That from the mill the palace should be named.

Is it a law of our sublunar ball,

That neighbours still to loggerheads must fall?
That kings and millers should alike be found
Tenaciously resolved to hold their ground?
For once the monarch did not act the sage,
He eyed askance his neighbour's heritage.
Now plans had been traced out, I'd have you know,
That made on paper quite a pretty show,

In which the small inclosure with the mill

Was quite forgot or overlooked, until

"Twas found so placed 'twould intercept the view,

Contract the garden, hide the avenue.

The Overseer of Royal Works thereon,

Sends for the miller, and, in pompous tone

"We want your mill, good man; so, name your price,

All shall be paid and settled in a trice."

"We want it, quoth'a! but the mill is mine,"
""Tis for the king; nor need you to repine,"
Make your own terms, you're certain to prevail."
"I'll make no terms, my mill is not for sale.
This bold reply-which, who could have thought,
In no wise softened, to the king was brought;

Who to his presence summoned Sans-Souci,
Lo! face to face he stands with majesty;

And majesty, for once, does not disdain

To promise, soothe, entreat-and all in vain;
Sans-Souci stands his ground. "But listen, friend,
To reason." "Sire, my house I cannot vend;
Thence my old father passed from earth to heaven,
And there, even now, has to my prayers been given
An infant son to cheer my drooping age.
I will not sell my father's heritage."
The monarch chafed: the miller felt aglow
"Offer a thousand ducats
I say, No!-
That I'm a stubborn fellow may be true,
Grant it and what, I pray, sometimes are you?”
Kings hardly bear to have their will denied
With rage transported, Frederick fiercely cried,
"A rare ado about a paltry mill !

-

Know, I can take it fellow, if I will.
'Twas of my grace, I offered to requite-
Nay, overpay-Has not a king a right?"
"A right to take my mill? A pretty saw
!
Yes if at Berlin there's nor judge nor law?”
The king, restored to reason by that word,
Pleased that his subjects felt their rights secured,
Turned laughing to his train and said with cheer,
"The field is lost; we're fairly beaten here;
Friend, keep thy mill. Thy spirit I admire."
From a republic could you more require?
Though kings may act with justice, now and then,
Trust not in princes nor the sons of men;
This very Frederick, here so just and fair,
Sometimes indulged his little whims elsewhere,
At other folk's expense-suffice to say-
He took Silesia, on a certain day,

Scarce seated on his throne, athirst for fame,
And madly set all Europe in a flame.

War's a grand game-the stakes are men; kings throw

The dice, caprice directs their fall, and so,

A mill is spared-a province is laid low.

THE

PHILIP BLAR;

OR,

School Days in the Dominion.

BY E. LAWSON FENERTY, ESQ., HALIFAX, N. S.

(Continued.)

CHAPTER VIII.

HE Groves, as Mr. Chauncy called his island school, comprised about one hundred and seventy acres of land, most of it classed good, and well cultivated, as he was a farmer, amateurly speaking-to coin a word-in addition to his other duties, that is to say, he employed a competent person to attend to that part of the work, which was wisdom.

Something in the neighbourhood of thirty acres, more or less, had been set apart for the boys' particular benefit, and included a capital cricket ground, made at considerable expense, for the use of the school club, which had acquired quite a reputation in several well contested matches with clubs of the vicinity.

The ground was immediately in front of the houses, almost as level as a floor, and bordered on two sides by magnificent elms that threw broad shadows over its surface.

The lower field, so called, a large oblong enclosure below the cricket ground, extending to the water's edge, was the general play ground; at one extremity a good sized pond furnished an arena whereon divers well contested yacht races came off between the miniature craft of the boys.

The island itself was egg-shaped, or nearly so, the smaller end covered with a thick growth of oaks, from which the name of the place was derived. About the centre the buildings were erected, comprising― first, the Principal's cottage, facing the cricket ground and the broad gravelled road that connected with the Island wharf, extending around one extremity of the ground; a broad piazza fronted the whole of this building.

The school building was a large three story structure in the shape of an L, situated to the left of, and with its longest face parallel with the cottage, the wing being farthest from that building.

The lower flat of the main building was occupied by the large hall, or main entrance, at the left extremity, and the dining hall;

back of this in the wing on the same floor, was the store and servants dining rooms, and below these the kitchen; the ground sloping away from the front, the rear of the wing being four stories in height on that account.

The second story of the large building was occupied by the school and class-rooms, and library, the entire upper part of both buildings was taken up by the dormitories, and the Master's apartments.

The large dormitory was for the smaller scholars, and would accommodate about sixty; the smaller, over the wing, was arranged for about forty of the older boys. They were wide, high and airy, lighted from the roof and ends.

Two rows of iron bedsteads were placed with their heads against either wall, leaving a space of twenty feet between, clear; at the head of each bed a door opened into a small dressingroom, just large enough for a washstand, chest of drawers, trunks, and a couple of chairs; this was the sanctum of the two boys that occupied the bed nearest; each of the assistant masters was supposed to have charge of one dormitory, having for his lieutenant one of the older pupils.

Just a few words to describe the Principal and his wife: he was a man of medium height, powerfully built, broad shoulders and perfectly erect, his hair and whiskers slightly grizzled, he was past fifty, his face was one of those that always impels one to desire to shake hands with the owner, the kindly hazel eyes looked so cheery, but it could be stern, and he was a sturdy boy that could look without flinching into the eyes when the light of anger shone in them; but such an occasion was a rarity, for he did not believe in the rod, except as a last resort.

Mrs. Chauncy was as much like her husband as possible, pleasant and affable, but inexorable as fate in regard to duty; she had some few peculiarities; it was whispered among the boys that sometimes an offender might have escaped punishment but for her; the scholars liked her pretty well, but feared her more.

Philip, after his uncle's departure, was, with Strickland, directed by Mrs. Chauncy to follow her, ordering one of the servant men to bring up the luggage to No. 12, large dormitory. After showing them their room, they were to be chums, she gave them each a key and explained that two of the bureau drawers belonged to each.

"The supper bell will ring by the time you have arranged your things and washed," she said, as she turned to go out, "be ready, for we are very punctual here."

They had completed all their arrangements, and made themselves presentable; as the bell had not yet rang, Strickland suggested that they should go out, but Phil preferred remaining, and seating himself at the window he was left alone to think over his novel position. As he thought, the picture of his home rose clear before his eyes, the pretty cottage, and brighter gardens, the kindly faces, all seemed as though they were with him. As the vision faded from his mind, a sense of unutterable loneliness stole over him, and the tears welled up unbidden; then he knew how good it was to have such a home as his.

The tinkle of the supper bell disturbed his day-dream; he started up, half ashamed of this weakness, dashed the wet from his cheeks and went down stairs, his previous examination of the place proving useful in finding the dining room. On his way down he found himself in company with some twenty others, bound on the same errand; some stared at him and wondered what kind of a fellow he was; but the majority kept on their way, too intently engaged in conversation to notice any one.

In the large dining-room he found himself in company with about seventy others of all ages, ranging from eighteen to ten, but very few of the older ones were present, not having come back from home. Some were already seated at the well-spread supper tables that filled the room, after some confusion and bustle, for they were not yet properly settled to their places. All were seated but Phil and Strickland, who remained standing, uncertain what to do. Mr. Chauncy espying them, placed them at a small table near his own seat, which had been dubbed the duffers table, from the fact that only new comers used it, until, as he explained, they were regularly placed.

After a short grace, the Principal set the example, and soon all were busily engaged discussing the supper. The place Mr. Chauncy occupied this evening, at the head of the table, was his more by courtesy than custom, the senior Assistant Master usually taking that place, excepting at the commencement of each term, or after holidays, when the boys were more than ordinarily hard to manage.

Phil was among the first to leave the room, having but little