"You are a great deal safer there than anywhere else," said Sarah; and she drew in her head again and locked the door, leaving me and the dog gazing at each other with looks of mutual hatred. How long I continued in this position I feel it impossible to guess. It appeared to me more than the duration of a whole life. I was not even soothed by the deep snoring which penetrated from the sleeping apartment of the fair cause of all my woes, and indicated that she was in the oblivious land of dreams. I suppose I should have been compelled to await the coming of day-light, and the awakening of the household, before my release from my melancholy situation, if fortune had not so favoured me, as to excite, by way of diversion, a disturbance below stairs which called off my guardian friend. I never heard a more cheerful sound than that of his feet trotting down stairs; and as soon as I ascertained that the coast was clear, I descended and tumbled at once into bed, much annoyed both in mind and body. The genial heat of the blankets, however, soon produced its natural effects and I forgot my sorrows in slumber. When I awoke it was broad day-light, as broad I mean, as day-light condescends to be in December, an uneasy sensation surprised me. Had I missed the coach? Devoting the waiters to the infernal gods, I put my hand under my pillow for my watch, but no watch was there. Sleep was completely banished from my eyes, and I jumped out of bed to make the necessary inquiries; when to my additional horror and astonishment I found my clothes had vanished. I rang the bell violently and summoned the whole posse comitatus of the house, whom I accused, in the loftiest tones, of misdemeanors of all descriptions. In return, I was asked who and what I was and what brought me there; and one of the waiters suggested an instant search of the room, as he had shrewd suspicions that I was the man with the carpet-bag who went about robbing hotels. After a scene of much tumult, the appearance of Boots at last cut the knot. It was, it seems, "No. 12 wot was to ha' gone by the Edenbry coach at six o'clock that morning, but wot had changed somehow into No. 11, wot went at four." And why," said I, "didn't you knock at No. 12?" "So I did," said Boots; "I knocked fit to wake the dead, and, as there war n't no answer, I didn't wake the living; I didn't knock no more, 'specially as Sarah "What of Sarah?" I asked in haste. "Specially as Sarah was going by at the time and told me not to disturb you, for she knowd you had been uneasy in the night, and wanted rest in the morning." I waited for no further explanation, but rushed to my room and dressed myself as fast as I could, casting many a rueful glance at my dilapidated countenance, and many a reflection equally rueful on the adventures of the night. My place was lost and the money I paid for it, that was certain; but going to Edinburgh was indispensable. proceeded, therefore to book myself again and on doing so found Joe Grabble in the coffee-room talking to Sarah. He had returned like Paul Pry, in quest of an umbrella, or something else he had forgotten the night before, and I arrived just in time to hear him ask if I was off. The reply was by no means flattering to my vanity. "I do not know nothink about him," said the indignant damsel, "except that, whether he's off or on, he's a nasty old willin." "Hey day, Peter!" exclaimed Joe. "So you are not gone? What is this Sarah says about you?" "May I explain," said I, approaching her with a bow, "fair Sarah?" "I don't want your conversation at no price," was the reply. "You 're an old wretch as I wouldn't touch with a pair of tongs." "Hey day!" cried Joe. "This is not precisely the character you expected. The rump and dozen But the subject is too painful to be pursued. My misfortunes were, however, not yet at an end. I started that evening by the mail. We had not got twenty miles from town when the snow storm began. I was one of its victims. The mail stuck somewhere in Yorkshire, where we were snowed up and half starved for four days, and succeeded only after a thousand perils, the details of which may be read most pathetically related in the newspapers of the period, in reaching our destination. When there, I lost little time in repairing to our agent,—a W. S. of the name of McCracken,-who was at a handsome flat in Nicholson Street, not far from the college. He welcomed me "What is the state of their affairs?" "Oh! bad-bad-saxpence in the pund forby. But, why were you no here by the cotch o' whilte ye advised me. That cotch came in safe enuch; and it puzzled me quite to see yer name bookit in the way bill, and ye no come. I did no ken what to do. I suppose some accident detained you?" "It was, indeed, an accident," replied I faintly, laying down my untasted glass. "I hope it's of nae consequence elsewhere," said McCracken, "because it is unco unlucky here; for if ye had been in E'nbro' on the Saturday, I think-indeed I am sure that we wad hae squeezed ten or twelve shillings in the pund out o' them, for they were in hopes o' remittances to keep up; but, when Monday cam', they saw the game was gane, and they now clane dished. So you see Mr. Gayless, ye're after the fair." "After the fair, indeed," said I; for men can pun even in misery, there will not be sixpence in the pound, and it is more than six hundred and fifty pounds out of my pocket. I had the expense (including that of a lost place) of a journey to A CONSERVATIVE FARMER. ingly fond of lessening the agricultural An old Scotch farmer, who was exceedlabor on his farm, happened to enter a found the man of drugs busily employed chemist's shop one day on business. He cleaning a galvanic battery. The farmer looked on for some time at the operations osity, he addressed the shopman: "What of the chemist, and being roused by curikind o' a machine dae ye ca' that, maister?" "Oh," replied the chemist, "this is a new machine for sowing turnips." "For sawin' neeps!" cried the astonished hold of the two handles," said the chemson of toil; "hoo dis't work? "Take ist. The farmer soon complied, being now all eagerness to understand all about the new machine. No sooner had he laid hold of the handles than the chemist set the thing in motion. Soon he had the satisfaction of seeing the worthy farmer dancing and howling in the most dreadful manner. "Throw the handles on the counter," said the chemist. This the farmer found it impossible to do. At length, looking imploringly in the face of the chemist, he cried: "Woa! woa! man, The chemist then stopped the current of it's perfect murder hauding that thing.' electricity. As soon as the farmer was released, he rushed from the shop, shouting: "Fegs, I'll stick tae the auld-fashioned barrow yet." HOOD. Edinburgh and back for nothing. I was HAPPY AND INNOCENT (?) CHILDsnowed up on the road, and frozen up on the top of the stair case. I lost a pair of teeth, and paid the dentist for another. I was bumped and bruised, bullied by a barmaid and hunted by a dog. I paid my rump and dozen amid the never-ending jokes of those who were eating and drink ing them; and I cannot look forward to the next dog-days without having before my eyes the horrors of hydrophobia. Such was my last love! AT what time of life may a man be said to belong to the vegetable kingdom? When long experience has made him sage. How beautiful are the innocent and health-imparting sports of happy childhood! How the middle-aged or still older heart responds to tender memories of jocund youth as the boys are seen absorbed in their merry games! "Out you first!" "No 't isn't either!" "I tell you it is; you just come out of that!" "Well, you get me out if you can!" "You bet I just can, though! "You're a liar!" You're another!" Smash, crack, bang! Hair pulled, garments rolled in mud, blows, mutterings, and what Victor Hugo would call a formidable breathing,' with gruntings and snortings as the contestants struggle. a certain occasion, at the request of Finally, "There, have you had enough?" Father McDowald, to be present and sing "Ye-e-s, let up, will you?" "Were you a solo at the 10.30 A. M. mass. He came out or not?" and, after some mutterings, into the choir, and after divesting hima grumbling assent. These are the sounds self of throat coverings, tumbling over that come from the vacant lots of the city music stands and nearly setting the choir of an afternoon, as the boys play the crazy by trying his voice and delaying the merry bat and ball. "Happy, happy service, he finally concluded that he was "in voice." By the time Brignoli got ready Father McDowald had begun his sermon, but Brignoli leaned over the choir railings and tried to attract his attention his hands and saying in a voice audible by shaking his head, gesticulating with enough to be heard in the choir: childhood!" TOO OLD TO BE TRIFLED WITH. 'No," No, try it again." "K-a-t-e." "No, you have missed it again." "Well, then," returned the doctor, "C-a double-t." "No, that's not the way; try it again,it's your last guess." C-a-g-t." said the wag, "that's not the way; you have lost your wager." Well," said the doctor, with much petulance of manner, "how does he spell it?" Why, he spells it c-a-t," replied the wag, with the utmost gravity, amid the roars of the mess; and almost choking with rage the doctor sprang to his feet, exclaiming: "Gentlemen, I am too old to be trifled with in this manner." 66 "Me ready for ze sing! Stoppa ze preach! Stoppa ze preach!" And the good priest actually did cut his sermon short to accommodate the impatient tenor, whose voice rang out with such fervor as to thrill the devout worshipers. GREEK WIT AND HUMOR. ATTRIBUTED TO THE EMPEROR TRAJAN. CHLOE'S HAIR. Chloe, those locks of raven hair,- A STORY OF BRIGNOLI. Many amusing anecdotes are now recalled of the peculiarities of Brignoli, the celebrated tenor, recently deceased, one of which is in connection with the very church of St. Agnes in which his requiem was sung and from which his body was carried to the tomb. He had agreed upon ON A DEAF HOUSEKEEPER. near. Thirsty and hot, I asked her for a drink; Eating a good rump-steak, I called for mus Away she went, and whipped me up a custard. | happier auspices. No sound of sickness was to be heard anywhere; and when dinner time came there was not a single appetite wanting. I wanted with my chicken to have ham; Blundering once more, she brought a pot of jam. I wished in season for a cut of salmon; But the passengers soon discovered And what she brought me was a huge fat they were lucky in more than weather. [WILLIAM HURRELL MALLOCK was born in Devonshire in 1849. His father is a younger son of the late Mr. Roger Mallock, of Cockington Court, in the south of Devon; he is in Holy orders, and had for many years the livings of Cockington and Torre Mohun. His mother is a daughter of the late Ven. R. Hurrell Froude, Archdeacon of Totnes, and she is a sister of Mr. Anthony Froude, the historian. Mr. Mallock was educated by a private tutor, the Rev. W. B. Philpot, of Littlehampton, Sussex, and afterwards of Balliol College, Oxford, where in 1871 he gained the Newdigate Prize Poem, the subject being "The Isthmus of Suez." He took, at Oxford, a second-class in the final classical schools. Mr. Mallock has never entered any profession, though at one time he contemplated the diplomatic service. "The New Republic," most of which he wrote when he was at Oxford, was published in 1876, it having at first appeared in a fragmentary form in Belgravia. A year later he published "The New Paul and Virginia." In 1879, he published “Is Life Worth Living?" which ap peared in fragments in the Contemporary Review and the Nineteenth Century. In 1880, he brought out a small edition of "Poems," written, most of them, many years previously. The following year he published "A Romance of the Nineteenth Century;" and in 1882 "Social Equality: a Study in a Missing Science," the substance of which had already appeared in fragments in the Dinner was hardly half over before two of those present had begun to attract general attention; and every one was wondering, in whispers, who they could possibly be. One of the objects of this delightful curiosity was a large-boned, middle-aged man, with gleaming spectacles, and lank, untidy hair; whose coat fitted him so ill, and who held his head so high, that it was plain at a glance he was some great celebrity. The other was a beautiful lady of about thirty years of age. No one present had seen her like before. She had the fairest hair and the darkest eyebrows, the largest eyes and the smallest waist conceivable; in fact, art and nature had been struggling as to which should do the most for her; whilst her bearing was so haughty and distinguished, her glance so tender, and her dress so expensive and so fascinating, that she seemed at the same time to defy and to court attention. Evening fell on the ship with a soft, warm witchery. The air grew purple, and the waves began to glitter in the moonlight. The passengers gathered in knots upon the deck. The distinguished strangers were still the subject of conjec ture. At last the secret was discovered by the wife of an old colonial judge; and the news spread like wildfire. In a few minutes all knew that there were on board the Australasian no less personages than Professor Paul Darnley and the superb Virginia St. John. II. in Miss St. John had, for at least six years, been the most renowned woman Europe. In Paris and St. Petersburg, no Nineteenth Century and the Contemporary during the less than in London, her name was three previous years.] equally familiar both to princes and to pot-boys; the eyes of all the world were The magnificent ocean-steamer, the upon her. Yet in spite of this exposed Australasian, was bound for England, on situation, scandal had proved powerless her homeward voyage from Melbourne. to wrong her; she defied detraction. Her She carried Her Majesty's mails and enemies could but echo her friends' ninety-eight first-class passengers. The praise of her beauty; her friends could skies were cloudless; the sea was smooth but confirm her enemies' description of as glass. Never did vessel start under her character. Though of birth that might be called almost humble, she had trial destinies. And in his double been connected with the heads of many capacity of a seer and a savant, he had distinguished families; and so general destroyed all that the world had believed was the affection she inspired, and so in the past, and revealed to it all that it winning the ways in which she contrived is going to feel in the future. Nor was to retain it, that she found herself at the he less successful in his own private life. age of thirty mistress of nothing except a He married, at the age of forty, an excellarge fortune. She was now converted lent evangelical lady, ten years his with surprising rapidity by a ritualistic senior, who wore a green gown, grey priest, and she became in a few months cork-screw curls, and who had a fortune a model of piety and devotion. She of two hundred thousand pounds. Orthomade lace trimmings for the curate's vest- dox though she was, Mrs. Darnley was ments; she bowed at church as often and yet proud beyond measure of her husprofoundly as possible; she enjoyed noth- band's world-wide fame, for she did but ing so much as going to confession; she imperfectly understand the grounds of it. learnt to despise the world. Indeed, such Indeed, the only thing that marred her utter dross did her riches now seem to happiness was the single tenet of his that her, that despite all the arguments of her she had really mastered. This, unluckily, ghostly counsellor, she remained con- was that he disbelieved in hell. And so, vinced that they were too worthless to as Mrs. Darnley conceived that that offer to the Church, and she saw nothing place was designed mainly to hold those for it but to still keep them for herself. who doubted its existence, she daily The mingled humility and discretion of talked her utmost, and left no text unthis resolve so won the heart of a gifted turned to convince her darling of his colonial bishop, then on a visit to Eng- very dangerous error. These assiduous land, that having first assured himself arguments soon began to tell. The Prothat Miss St. John was sincere in making fessor grew moody and brooding, and he it, he besought her to share with him his at last suggested to his medical man that humble mitre, and make him the happiest a voyage round the world unaccompanied prelate in the whole Catholic Church. Miss St. John consented. The nuptials were celebrated with the most elaborate ritual, and after a short honeymoon the bishop departed for his South Pacific diocese of the Chasuble Islands, to prepare a home for his bride, who was to follow him by the next steamer. by his wife, was the prescription most needed by his failing patience. Mrs. Darnley at length consented with a fairly good grace. She made her husband pledge himself that he would not be absent for above a twelvemonth, or else, she said, she should immediately come after him. She bade him the tenderest of adieus, and promised to pray till his return for his recovery of a faith in hell. III. Professor Paul Darnley, in his own walk of life, was even more renowned than Virginia had been in hers. He had written three volumes on the origin of The Professor, who had but exceeded life, which he had spent seven years in his time by six months, was now on looking for in infusions of hay and cheese; board the Australasian, homeward bound he had written five volumes on the to his wife. Virginia was outward entozoa of the pig, and two volumes of bound to her husband. lectures, as a corollary to these, on the sublimity of human heroism and the whole duty of man. He was renowned all over Europe and America as a complete embodiment of enlightened modern thought. His mind was like a sea, into which the other great minds of the age discharged themselves, and in which all the slight discrepancies of the philosophy of the present century mingled together and formed one harmonious whole. He criticized everything; he took nothing on trust, except the unspeakable sublimity of the human race and its august terres The sensation created by the presence of these two celebrities was profound beyond description; and the passengers were never weary of watching the gleaming spectacles and the square-toed boots of the one, and the liquid eyes and the ravishing toilettes of the other. were three curates, who, having been very quick in making Virginia's acquaintance, soon sang at nightfall with her a beautiful vesper hymn. And so lovely There |