was made, and all the male servants, with the young boys of the family, would draw it about the court, and the neighbouring streets with great delight. I remember once asking my mother why it was that Juggernaut was so ugly. In answer she told me this story:

A very rich rajah 2 up the country built a grand, magnificent temple, and devoted it to one of the great gods. He then said that he must have a new and very beautiful image carved to place in the temple, and the Brahmins would pray the great gods to come and dwell in that image, and make it very noted and renowned as a great and powerful god. He therefore gave notice everywhere that he wanted a good mistri, that is a carpenter, or other workman, to come and make this image. It must be more beautiful than anything that had ever been made; if it was so, and the rajah was satisfied, he would give a very great reward; but if it was not most beautiful, the mistri should be killed.

Fearing this, no mistri dared undertake the work; and consequently the beautiful temple remained for several years without any god to inhabit it. At last, an old man, with a bundle of carpenter's tools, presented himself to the rajah. The rajah looked at him for a minute, and said, "I am sure that you cannot make anything beautiful." The mistri was old, dirty, and very ugly; he squinted with both eyes, was very black, had red hair, a crooked back, and bandy legs,-in fact he was a monster of ugliness. This old man insisted that

he could make the most beautiful image that ever was seen. At last the rajah, finding that he could not get anybody else to try, gave his consent. "But remember," he said, "that if you do not make it very beautiful, I shall take your life." To this the mistri agreed, but with one condition, that all the time he was employed in his work he should be shut up in the temple, and not in the least interfered with till his work was completed; that if the temple doors were opened, or he was interrupted in any way, he would immediately leave his work unfinished, and would never put another stroke to it. The rajah did not like this, as he wished very much to watch the progress of the work; but there was no help for it, as the old mistri would only work upon his own terms, and he could get no other to work at all. The old mistri shut himself up in the temple, and for three months nobody ever saw him; no one could tell how he got food or water, for he never came out, and nobody went to him; but during the whole day and night a most terrible hammering noise was heard in the temple, sometimes in one part and sometimes in another. The poor rajah was dreadfully frightened; it sounded as if his beautiful temple was being knocked to pieces.

At length, after some months had passed, and nothing had been seen of the mistri, though the noises continued as usual, the rajah went to the door of the temple, and after knocking a long time, the mistri answered him. He told the rajah that he was getting on beautifully with his work;

but requested him on no account to interrupt him again. After this, the noise in the temple increased so much, that it seemed as if there were a hundred workmen hammering away with all their might, instead of one. At last the poor rajah's patience became utterly exhausted; he was afraid his beautiful temple would be entirely destroyed. After knocking in vain for the mistri to open the door, he at last had it burst open. The temple was the same as ever; and there stood the mistri in the middle of the floor, with an ugly little misshapen image before him, with no hands, only stumps, and no feet. The rajah, in a great rage, asked him if he called that a beautiful figure. "You have interrupted me before I have finished," said the mistri; "no one shall dare to alter it or add anything to it. Ugly as it is, it is the great god Juggernaut, and in that form he shall be worshipped all over India." The rajah was in a fearful rage, and aimed a blow at the mistri to kill him, when suddenly he changed from the ugly old man into a beautiful young man, and rose up into the air above the rajah's reach, saying, “As the great god Juggernaut all shall worship that." He then disappeared through the roof of the temple, leaving the rajah in great dismay; for now all knew the old mistri to be none other than the god Mohadave, and his work none would dare to touch. The figure must be left just as it was.

From Kardoo, the Hindoo Girl.

(By kind permission of the R. T.S.)

XLI.

A NORTHERN LEGEND.

THERE sits a lovely maiden,
The ocean murmuring nigh;
She throws the hook, and watches;
The fishes pass it by.

A ring, with a red jewel,
Is sparkling on her hand;
Upon the hook she binds it,
And flings it from the land.

Uprises from the water

A hand like ivory fair. What gleams upon its finger ? The golden ring is there.

Uprises from the bottom

A young and handsome knight;
In golden scales he rises,
That glitters in the light.

The maid is pale with terror—
"Nay, Knight of Ocean, nay,

It was not thou I wanted;
Let go the ring, I pray."

"Ah maiden, not to fishes
The bait of gold is thrown,
Thy ring shall never leave me,
And thou must be my own."

W. C. Bryant.

XLII.

THE FIRST GERMAN PRINTER.

WHEN William Caxton1 had been ten or twelve, or perhaps fifteen years away from England, a strange thing happened and was talked about in Paris.

One day a German, from the town of Mentz, made his appearance in the city. His name was Fust, or Faust, and he had with him some large and heavy packages. He was a sort of manuscript merchant, and his dealings, of course, were with wealthy and learned people.

He had Latin Bibles to sell. They were written or appeared to be written on vellum, or prepared calf-skin; and were ornamented with beautiful flowered capital letters at the beginning of the several books, finely coloured and gilded.

He soon found customers for his volumes. By some means, the merchant got an introduction to the King's palace, and he sold one of his Bibles to the king himself, for seven hundred and fifty crowns. Then he called on the Archbishop of Paris, and showed him a Bible, for which the archbishop agreed to give him three hundred crowns. The archbishop was proud of his purchase, and took an early opportunity of showing it to the king, who looked at it with some surprise.