reation; and it would seem that some such
power, in the present instance, suspended the threatened blow. The eyes
of the monster and the kneeling maiden met for an instant, when the
former stooped to examine her fallen foe; next, to scent her luckless
cub. From the latter examination she turned, however, with her eyes
apparently emitting flashes of fire, her tail lashing her sides
furiously, and her claws projecting inches from her broad feet.

Miss Temple did not or could not move. Her hands were clasped in the
attitude of prayer, but her eyes were still drawn to her terrible
enemy. Her cheeks were blanched to the whiteness of marble, and her lips
were slightly separated with horror.

The moment seemed now to have arrived for the fatal termination, when a
rustling of leaves behind seemed rather to mock the organs than to meet
her ears. “Hist! hist!” said a low voice, “stoop lower, girl; your
bonnet hides the creature’s head.”

It was rather the yielding of nature than a compliance with this
unexpected order that caused the head of the girl to sink on her bosom.
Then she heard the report of the rifle, the whizzing of the bullet, and
the enraged cries of the beast, who was rolling over on the earth,
tearing the twigs and branches within her reach. At the next instant
Leather-Stocking rushed by her, and called aloud:--

“Come in, Hector; come in; ’tis a hard-lived animal, and may jump
again.”

The brave hunter fearlessly maintained his position, notwithstanding the
violent bounds of the wounded panther, until his rifle was again loaded,
when he stepped up to the animal, and, placing the muzzle close to her
head, every spark of life was extinguished by the discharge.

   --JAMES FENIMORE COOPER.

       *       *       *       *       *

    The purest treasure mortal times afford
    Is spotless reputation; that away,
    Men are but gilded loam, or painted clay.




        HUNTING SONG


    Waken, lords and ladies gay!
    On the mountain dawns the day;
      All the jolly chase is here
      Wit