The harbour of Trincomalee swarms with gigantic sharks, and strange to relate, they are all under British protection; and if any one is found molesting or injuring them, the fine is L10, or an imprisonment! How this ridiculous custom originated, it is hard to say; but we are told, that in the early days of British conquest in the East, sailors were apt to desert, and seek refuge in the then inaccessible wilds of the interior; and of later years, when civilisation has unbarred the gates of Cingalese commerce to all nations of the world, the soldiers of the regiment stationed at Trincomalee, discontented with their lot in life, were wont to escape from the thraldom of the service, by swimming off to American and other foreign vessels, preferring chance, under a strange flag, to a hard certainty under their own. Thus the Queen's sharks are duly protected as a sort of water-police for the prevention of desertion both from the army and navy. OLD VERSES ON QUEEN ELIZABETH. The following quaint and curious verses are taken from a very old volume, entitled _A Crowne Garland of Goulden Roses, Gathered out of England's Royall Garden, &c., &c. By Richard Johnson_. A SHORT AND SWEET SONNET MADE BY ONE OF THE MAIDES OF HONOR UPON THE DEATHE OF QUEENE ELIZABETH, WHICH SHE SOWED UPON A SAMPLER IN RED SILKE. _To a new tune, or "Phillida flouts me."_ Gone is Elizabeth, Whom we have lov'd so deare; She our kind mistres was Full foure and forty yeare. England she govern'd well, Not to be blamed; Flanders she govern'd well And Ireland tamed. France she befrended, Spaine she hath foiled, Papists rejected, And the Pope spoyled. To princes powerfull, To the world vertuous, To her foes mercifull, To her subjects gracious. Her soule is in heaven, The world keeps her glory, Subjects her good deeds, And so ends my story. RANELAGH. Ranelagh, of which no traces now remain, was situated on part of Chelsea Hospital garden, between Church Row and the river, to the east of the Hospital. It takes its name from a house erected in 1691, by Viscount Ranelagh. This house, in which the Viscount had resided from the period of its being built, was sold in 1733 to an eminent builder named Timbrell for L3,200, who advertised it for sale in the following year, as a freehold with garden, kitchen garden, and offices, and a smaller house and garden with fruit trees, coach-houses, &c., &c. These were the first vicissitudes of Ranelagh, preparatory to its conversion into a place of public amusement. Walpole, in one of his entertaining letters to Mann, April 22nd, 1742, thus speaks of the gardens, which were then unfinished:--