and mark the flukes as they sweep the captain's boat into eternity. Here is a portion of the story:—
"Then we heard the captain's order, "Heave!" and saw the harpoon fly,
As the whales clewed in with their open jaws: a shock and a stifled cry
Was all that we heard; then we looked to see if the crew were still afloat,—
But nothing Was there save a dull red patch, and the boards of the shattered boat.
"'But that was no time for mourning words: the other two boats came in,
And one put fast on the quarter, and one aft the starboard fin
Of the Amber Whale. For a minute he paused, as if he were in doubt
As to whether 'twas best to run or fight. "Lay on!" the mate roared out,
"And I'll give him a lance!" The boat shot in; and the mate, when he saw his chance
Of sending it home to the vitals, four times he buried his lance.'
"We next come to 'The Dukite Snake,' a tale so simply told, so beautifully sad, that the heart goes out in pity to the poor young husband in his terrible grief. The Dukite Snake never goes alone. When one Is killed the other will follow to the confines of the earth, but he will have revenge. Upon this fact the poet has wrought a pictures so true and so dramatic that it almost chills the blood to read a tale so cruel and so lifelike. . . . Among the remaining poems of length, we have 'The Fishermen of Wexford,' 'The Flying Dutchman,' and 'Uncle Ned's Tales.' All are good; but the last are simply superb. We doubt if more vivid pictures of war were ever drawn. The incidents are detailed with such lifelike force, that to any one who had ever felt the enthusiastic frenzy of battle, they bring back the sounds of the shells and the shout of advancing columns. They are lifelike as the pages of Tacitus, and stir the blood to a fever heat of warlike enthusiasm. They are strains to make soldiers."
London Athenæum,
"Mr. O'Reilly is the poet of a far land. He sings of Western Australia, that poorest and loveliest of all the Australias,
