One feature of this parting was remarkable; a young peasant woman of Amboise had been the wet-nurse of a little Arab child, and was now to take leave of the helpless infant whom she had tended till, from a half dying plant, it had become strong and healthy, and full of life. For more than a quarter of an hour the mother of the babe and its nurse remained in an agony of grief, mutually embracing and consoling each other, while the innocent object of their care wept for company. At length the poor sobbing Frenchwoman tore herself away, and the train moved off bearing away forever her cherished nurseling and its grateful but sorrowing parents. Many of the children in Abd-’el-Kader’s suit died soon after their arrival, and the influence of the moist climate on all the attendants was felt severely by persons accustomed to go half clothed and with naked feet. The sisters of charity of Amboise and the medical men had many mournful scenes to go through, as the little Arab burial-ground, near the “Gate of Lions” of the castle, attests but too clearly. The health of the Emir himself has, it is said, of late given way, and he has had to deplore the loss of several of its nearest friends. The tenderness and feeling shown to these _conquered enemies_, proves, it must be confessed, that there is no want of kindliness in the hearts of at least the _country people_ of France, whose impulses are generally for good, as we have every reason to acknowledge in the charitable promptitude and active benevolence shown to the unfortunate survivors of the Amazon, by the whole of the inhabitants of Brest from the highest to the lowest. * * * * * AT THE WATER’S EDGE. BY PHŒBE CAREY. There are little innocent ones, And their love is wondrous strong, Clinging about her neck, But they may not keep her long. Father, give her strength To loosen their grasp apart, And to fold her empty hands Calmly over her heart. And if the mists of doubt Fearfully rise and climb Up from that river that rolls Close by the shore of time; Suddenly rend it away, Holy and Merciful One, As the veil of the temple was rent, When the mission of Christ was done. So she can see the clime Where the jasper walls begin, And the pearl-gates, half unclosed, Ready to shut her in. So she can see the saints, As they beckon with shining hand, Leaning over the towers, Waiting to see her land. Saviour, we wait thy aid, For our human aid were vain; We have gone to the water’s edge, And must turn to the world again. For she stands where the waves of death Fearfully surge and beat, And the rock of the shore of life Is shelving under her feet. * * * * *