“Hello, IDA!”

But he soon found that he would have to hello longer as well as hello IDA, and he did it.

At last she heard him.

Dropping her work-basket, she ran to the edge of the rock, and making a trumpet of her hands, called out: 

“Ahoy there!  What’s up?”

“Me!” answered Mr. P., “but I won’t be up very long.  Haste to my assistance, oh maiden! ere I sink!”

Then she shouted again: 

“I’ve got no boat!  It’s over to MCCURDY’s, getting caulked!”

No boat!

Then indeed did Mr. P. turn pale, and his knees did tremble.

But IDA was not to be daunted.  Bounding like a chamois o’er the rocks, to her house, she quickly returned with a long coil of rope, and instantly hurled it over the curling breakers with such a strong arm and true aim, that one end of it struck Mr. P. in the face with a crack like that of a giant’s whip.

He grasped the rope, and that instant his boat sank like a rock!

IDA hauled away like a steam-engine, and Mr. P.’s prow (his nose, you know,) cut through the water like a knife, in a straight line for the shore.  In front of him he saw a great mass of sharp roots.  He shuddered, but over them he went.  On, on, he went, nor turned aside for jagged cleft or sharp-edged stone.  A ship, loaded with queensware, had been wrecked near shore, and through a vast mass of broken plates, and cups, and saucers, Mr. P. went,—­straight and swift as an arrow.

At last, wet, bleeding, ragged, scratched, and feint, he reached the shore.  Said IDA, as she supported him towards her dwelling:  “How did you ever come to be wrecked on such a day as this?”

Mr. P. hesitated.  But with such a noble creature, the truth would surely be the best.  He told her all.

“Oh!” said he.  “Dear girl, ’twas I, myself, who hewed down my mast and scuttled my fair bark.  And I did it, maiden fair! that thy brave arm might rescue me from the watery deep, (you know what a good thing it would be for both of us when it got in the papers,) and that on thy hardy bosom I might be borne—­”

“Born jackass!” interrupted IDA.  “I believe that everybody who comes to Newport make fools of themselves about me; but you are certainly the Champion Fool of the Lime Rocks.”

Mr. P. couldn’t deny it.

* * * * *

Alphabetical.

From the insult passed upon Count BENDETTI, at Ems, it appears that the
Prussian government does not always mind its P’s and Q’s.

* * * * *

A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME.

A Love Tale.

I.

“I won’t do it—­there!”

Miss ANGELINA VAVASOUR sat her little fat body down in a chair, slapped her little fat hands upon her little fat knees, swelled her little fat person until she looked like a big gooseberry just ready to burst, and then turned her little fat red face up to Mr. JOHN SMITH, who was standing before her.