moreover, contradicted, not only by the poets and historians, but by the topographers, ancient and modern, of Troas. Thucydides, who explains how the Greeks victualled their armies during the ten years that the siege lasted, admits it, consequently, as a historical fact, as well as Herodotus, who pretends that the hatred of the Asiatic nations towards the Greeks may be traced to this source. Eratosthenes and Apollonius, who will only allow Homer to have possessed a superficial acquaintance with Egypt (Strabo, Book vii.), admire his accurate knowledge of the topography of Greece and Asia Minor. Both Pausanias and Strabo continually refer to Homer as an authority upon every point concerning locality. Nay, we even find Solon claiming from Sparta, the district of Salamis-a claim he grounded on Homer's designations. Lastly, amongst the moderns, we are happy to be able to corroborate our opinion by quoting the names of Tournefort, Pokocke, Chandler, Wood, Hawkins, Bouverie, Lechevalier, and Choiseul-Gouffier, who on travelling through the Trojan Empire with "Homer" in their hand, have acknowledged the truthfulness of his descriptions.

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PHOTOGRAPHS OF FAMILIAR FACES.

BY A FEMALE PHOTOGRAPHER.

"I'LL SEE ABOUT IT."

THOSE people who are for ever saying: "I'll see about it," are the pests of society. Though I never liked Young, and his gloomy "Night Thoughts," yet I feel obliged to him for that one line:

"Procrastination is the thief of time."

How many, by the bye, might pass for profound philosophers, if they had only left a single line, containing a sound aphorism, instead of volumes of diluted trash.

I once knew a good-natured woman, who had always those words of promise in her mouth, to which I invariably tacked: "Why not do it at once?" If Jemmy's frock wanted mending, she would say: "I'll see about it," and in a few days more: "I really must see about it;" but the frock came to pieces, for want of the stitch in time.

"My dear Jane," said her husband one morning, before starting for the city, "I wish you would pay this account. I know Dobson wants

his money."

Dobson was a small tradesman who had sent in his bill a short time previous.

"I'll see about it," replied she with alacrity; for, as before hinted, she was good-hearted.

The husband went his ways, and thought no more about the matter, and considered Dobson as paid. Some days after he was surprised and sorry to see Dobson's name in the Gazette-and that reminded him to ask his wife for Dobson's receipt. O dear! she had not yet been to pay Dobson, but would “ see about it" next day.

"Rather late, my dear," was his reply. And late indeed it proved, for this small debt paid in time might, as it turned out, have staved off a momentary pressure, and prevented his bankruptcy altogether.

Still she went on "seeing about," or rather not seeing about, everything, and causing a heavy quarterly amount of unnecessary damage, in the shape of spoiled provisions, torn frocks, palings let to rot for want of a little paint, locks to drop off for want of a timely screw; to say nothing of undermining the health of the household, by putting off the cleansing of the filter, till one of the maids was nearly poisoned. Yet, though deploring each mishap in detail, this good woman did not strike at the root of the evil. It was necessary the consequences of her procrastinating propensities should be brought home to her in a fearful manner, to prove

the irreparable mischief which often comes of the postponement of seeming trifles.

The children had a swing in the garden (the family lived a little way out of town), and by dint of frequent friction, the rope was waxing thinner and thinner. Papa said a new rope must be got, to which his wife replied with a cheerful: "I'll see about it." And he added that, in the meantime, the children should be prohibited from using the swing. Of course she would " see about" that also. But Tom, the eldest and heaviest, had no notion of being mulcted of any of his amusements; and he daily indulged in his favourite pastime of twisting himself round, when seated in the swing, and then untwisting himself, in a series of rapid gyrations, which contributed to damage the rope still more materially. Seeing after a day or two, that no new rope was forthcoming, the father purchased one, and requested his wife to be sure and have it put up that morning. "Yes, I'll be sure to see about it," said the mother. But that day she had some arrears to pull up-things she ought to have seen about months before--the new rope was not put up, while Tommy seized the opportunity of his mother's attention being drawn off, to indulge in (under the circumstances) a mad swing, in the midst of which the rope snapped, and poor Tom was hurled into the neighbour's garden. He was picked up lifeless! Now only think of the remorse and agony of that woman!

Another example, before I have done with these putters off. I knew a wealthy old gentleman, whose niece tended him for years with the devotedness of a daughter. He was, if not bed-ridden, at least chairridden. He loved and valued her, and used to say as he stroked her head, that his little Constance should be nobly provided for. He would

see to it" one of these days. The physician, who was at the same time a friend, once ventured to observe: "Why not see to it at once?” Thereupon the old gentleman looked half alarmed; and asked his medical friend if he thought him worse than usual.

"I don't mean that," said the physician; "but as we never know when death may knock at our door, why not be ready against he comes? It won't make him come sooner-will it ?"

"Very true," said the uncle-"I'll see about it."

But death did not allow him as long a delay as he hoped, and as even the physician anticipated, but summoned the old gentleman, long before he was ready, or had made his will. The consequence was, that not a farthing was bequeathed either to poor Constance, or to the faithful old housekeeper, who had fairly earned a better rest for her declining years, than to be handed over to the tender mercies of the workhouse.

On his dying intestate, the old man's graceless son, who had been estranged from him for years, stepped in as heir-at-law to his whole property, turned away all the old servants without a shilling beyond their wages, and did not allow as much as twenty pounds a year to the devoted Constance, who had spent the brightest days of her youth in

performing the duties he had neglected, but coolly left her to earn her bread as best she might, by going out as a governess.

Yet, after all, who was the greatest delinquent? The selfish young scamp, or the well-meaning old man? Alas! there is hardly a pin to choose between the two! Had the latter seen about it, instead of only intending to see about it, the good would have been rewarded, and the wicked not gone unpunished even in this world.

Oh, these sins of omission! Were I a legislator, there should be a court to punish them, just as we now punish the sins of commission.

THE QUEEN OF FASHION.

BY MADAME DE CHATELAIN.

TOMMY had long wished for a kite-not a little bit of a thing, such as he had seen boys four or five years old play with, and that never rose higher than the first floor of the house, for want of sufficient length of string. No! he wanted a good big kite, with plenty of string, so that it could fly up-up-almost out of sight, like those he had admired in the hands of older boys twice as strong as himself, and he was always saying how he should like to have such a one of his own. Well! on Christmas eve, papa made him a present of a kite, taller than himself, and painted all over with dragons and serpents and curious scrolls, and with a long tail of as many colours as the streamers of a ship, dressed for a royal visit.

Who was now so pleased as Tommy? Only he regretted that the darkness prevented his flying his kite at once, to say nothing of there not being a breath of wind stirring-and when he went to bed, after carefully placing the kite opposite him, so that it should be the first object to meet his sight in the morning, he lay awake a long while, hoping that the wind would rise, and wishing that the night would soon be over, till at length he fell fast asleep.

Next morning there was a high wind-so high indeed that papa observed, during breakfast, that the kite would risk getting torn, if Tommy attempted to fly it, and that he had better wait for an hour or so, in hopes the wind might grow less boisterous. But Tommy had no idea of waiting, so papa told him he might please himself, only warned him that, should the kite be torn, he would not undertake to buy him another till his birthday and that would not come round till midsummer. The upshot was, as all our young readers will probably guess, that Tom preferred risking everything rather then give up flying his new kite; so off he went, till he reached a field he thought suitable for the purpose.

Although it blew so hard that Tommy's hat had several times been sent dancing along the ground to the jig the wind was playing, the little boy was not to be deterred from his anticipated treat. With fingers half benumbed by the cold, he proceeded to unfurl the cord, and when the kite began to flutter upwards, with a kind of zig-zag motion, almost resembling that of a rocket, owing to the fitful gusts of wind, he was, nevertheless, in ecstasies, and thinking how grand it would look presently when rising to the clouds, he gave it plenty of string to help it to rise still faster.