cook, and then looked calmly at him, as though he would have said "Here is your dog-it is his turn, and not mine." THE LAME DOG. M. Pibrac, an eminent surgeon, who was alive shortly before the revolution, one evening found near his house a very fine dog which had broken its foot, and was howling most piteously. M. Pibrac sent a servant to bring him to his house, where he set the injured foot, bound it up, and took care of the animal till he was cured. During, and after the cure, the dog expressed the utmost gratitude; and his benefactor conceived that he had secured his affection for ever. But the dog had another master, and with this species old attachments are so predominant, that, in general, they cease only with life. As soon as the patient was able to run, he set off and did not return. M. Pibrac almost repented of his kindness. "Who would have thought," said he, "that a dog could be ungrateful?" Five or six months had elapsed, when the dog once more appeared at his door, and caressed M. Pibrac in the fondest manner. He was glad to see the runaway again, and would have taken him into the house. Instead of following him, the dog pulled him by the coat, licked his hands, and looked to one side, as if desirous to show him something. It turned out to be a bitch of his acquaintance, who had met with a similar accident to that which had befallen himself, and whom he had brought to his benefactor, that the latter might do as much for her as he had done for him, THE SHOE-BLACK'S DOG. A shoe-black, who used to take his station before the entrance of the Hotel de Nivernois, had a great black poodle, which possessed the extraordinary talent of procuring custom for his master. This animal would dip his large woolly paw in the kennel, and tread with it upon the shoe of the first person that passed by. The shoe-black lost no time in offering his stool, with the invitation-"Please to have your shoes cleaned, sir?" pas As long as he was engaged the dog sat quietly by his side. It would then have been useless to bedaub the shoes of another senger; but no sooner was the stool unoccupied than he played the same trick as before. This sagacious dog and his master, who was always ready to oblige the servants at the hotel, became advantageously known in the court-yard and kitchen, whence their fame spread from mouth to mouth, till at length it reached the drawing-room, A wealthy Englishman, who happened to be there, was desirous of seeing the dog and his master. They were called. He liked the dog so well that he wished to buy him, and offered first tne, and afterwards fifteen louis d'ors. The shoe-black was dazzled by the fifteen louis d'ors, and likewise somewhat fluttered by the distinguished company into which he was ushered. The dog was sold and delivered; the following day he was conveyed in a postchaise to Dover, where he embarked with his new master, and arrived safe in London. The shoe-black meanwhile bewailed the loss of his four-footed companion, and bitterly repented what he had done. How immoderate then was his joy, when, on the fourteenth day, the dog came running to his old station, with dirtier paws than ever, and began with his wonted skill to bring custom to his master. He had taken notice of the road from Paris to Calais; he had observed that the chaise was here exchanged for the packet, and that a third carriage proceeded from Dover to London. Most of these coaches performed the same journey back again. The dog had returned from his new master to the coach-office, whence he followed perhaps the same vehicle that had carried him to London, and was now going in the contrary direction to Dover. The packet conveyed him over again to Calais, and from that town he followed the diligence back to Paris. Sultan I knew myself. He often did me the honour to dine with me, as I never laid the least restraint upon his liberty. He staid longer with me than any other person, because he knew that the door would be opened for him at the first intimation. A fellow pupil of the Collège du Plessis, reminded me of the turnspits. Several of my colleagues in the Institute, who knew M. Pibrac, have assured me of the truth of the story respecting him. I was myself an eye-witness of what passed before the door, and in the hotel, of the excellent Duke de Nivernois. The circumstances are recollected by all the inhabitants of the Rue de Tour non. PARADISE OF COQUETTES. [In a former number (vol. 5. p. 204.) we have inserted a review of this highly polished and brilliant poem. We now add a few additional extracts.] The coquette's repining soliloquy after the ball, is thus told: How did I hope to vex a thousand eyes! O glorious malice, dearer than the prize! Yet well was taught my brow that pride serene, Why was the triumph given? Too flattering joy! The glance, which thousands sought, to none he gave; Scarce bow'd to nodding bevies when we walk'd, Smil'd when I smil'd, and talk'd, and laugh'd, and talk'd ; Held my light fan with more than woman's grace, And shook the tiny zephyr o'er my face: Why did I heedless trust the flattering sign, As if no fan he e'er had broke but mine! Ah, simple fool!-yet wherefore nurse the smart? She goes on in a tone of bitter mortification at her rival's success-—--- With brilliant finger made to be ador'd, And gallant thumb that daring cross'd the board, Sees brighter reason in each blush arise, And learns to Look most beautifully wise.' There is a delicate and sober purity in the following contrasted picture : 'How happier she, who in love's tranquil bower, Clasps the sweet prize of conquest, not the power; She, if her happy lord but gaze with pride, Can smile serene, nor feel one envy burn, Ambition, conquest, what are ye to love! The third canto begins in apologies for the 'guileless changefulness,' of woman. 'Ye watchful sprites, who make e'en man your care, And sure more gladly hover o'er the fair, Who grave on adamant all changeless things, Say to what soft texture ye impart The quick resolves of woman's trusting heart; The short eternity of Passion's power. Breath'd in vain oaths that pledge with generous zeal |