The joy of the mother at having restored to her the idol of her heart; the grateful feelings she and the father felt toward the deliverer of their child, we will not attempt to describe; only the results will we give of this heroic action. Tom was treated by the captain as a son; the crew were forgiven for their mutinous conduct, and cheerfully returned to duty; and Tom, now a distinguished naval officer, dates his first step upon the ladder that leads to eminence, from the day he so narrowly escaped a severe whipping. _Laurensville, South Carolina._ * * * * * THE LADY OF CASTLE WINDECK. (FROM THE GERMAN OF CHAMISSO.) BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. Rein in thy snorting charger! That stag but cheats thy sight; He is luring thee on to Windeck, With his seeming fear and flight. Now, where the mouldering turrets Of the outer gate arise, The knight gazed over the ruins Where the stag was lost to his eyes. The sun shone hot above him; The castle was still as death; He wiped the sweat from his forehead, With a deep and weary breath. “Who now will bring me a beaker Of the rich old wine that here, In the choked up vaults of Windeck, Has lain for many a year?” The careless words had scarcely Time from his lips to fall, When the Lady of Castle Windeck Come round the ivy-wall. He saw the glorious maiden In her snow-white drapery stand, The bunch of keys at her girdle, The beaker high in her hand. He quaffed that rich old vintage; With an eager lip he quaffed; But he took into his bosom A fire with the grateful draught. Her eyes unfathomed brightness! The flowing gold of her hair! He folded his hands in homage, And murmured a lover’s prayer. She gave him a look of pity, A gentle look of pain; And quickly as he had seen her She passed from his sight again. And ever, from that moment, He haunted the ruins there, A sleepless, restless wanderer, A watcher with despair. Ghost-like and pale he wandered, With a dreamy, haggard eye; He seemed not one of the living, And yet he could not die.