could stand it no longer, and he went out to avoid growing angry.

"Now is my time!" said the Devil; and he slipped round to the window. Giuseppa was still fretting and fuming, and invoking Luxehale at the top of her voice.

"Here I am!" said Luxehale. "Will you come back with me, and leave this stupid loafer?"

"What you there!" cried Giuseppa, rushing to the window, and kissing him. "Of course I'll go with you. Take me away!"

“All right; jump down!" said Luxehale, helping her over the window-sill. Giuseppa threw herself into his arms, and away they walked. Arrived outside the town, Luxehale lifted her up, spread his black bat's wings, and carried her off.

"Go through the Fleimserthal and the Fassathal,” said Giuseppa; "I've got something to show you there."

66

'Any thing to please you!" answered Luxehale. "Oh, it's not to please me!" cried Giuseppa, taking offence.

"Now don't begin again; it won't do with me!" replied Luxehale, with a sternness he had never before exercised. "Mind, I don't mean to allow any more of it."

"Oh, if that's to be it," said Giuseppa, "I'll go back again to Pangrazio."

"No, you won't!" replied Luxehale; "you

don't go back any more, I'll take good care of that! And now, what did you want to come by the Fassathal for?"

"Only because it's the way I passed with Pangrazio, and it renewed a sweet memory of him."

66 That won't do for me! What was the real reason?"

"What will you give me if I tell you?"

"Nothing. But if you don't tell me, I shall know how to make you."

Giuseppa's courage failed her when she heard him talk like this. She knew she had given herself to him of her own will, and so she belonged to him, and she could not help herself; and now, the best course she could think of was to tell him of the treasure, and trust to the good humour it would put him in, for he was very avaricious, to get her forgiveness out of him.

Clamer came back from a walk outside the town -where he had gone to get cool after his wife's scolding-just in time to see Luxehale spread his wings and fly away with Giuseppa in his arms. He called to her, but she did not hear him; and all he could do was to stand watching them till they were out of sight.

He came back so gloomy and dejected that his friend Eligio Righi was quite distressed to see him. He was so sympathizing, indeed, that Pangrazio

could not forbear telling him the whole story. "Then, if that is so, you need not regret being quit of her," moralized his sage friend: "she was no wife for an honest man. And as for the treasure, you have enough without that. It was but ill-gotten gain which came to you for knowledge obtained from such a source."

ZOVANIN SENZA PAURA1;

OR,

THE BOY WHO WENT OUT TO DISCOVER WHAT FEAR MEANT.

OVANIN was a bold boy, and never seemed to be afraid of any thing. When other

children were afraid lest Orco2 should play them some of his malicious tricks, when people cried out to him, "Take care, and don't walk in those footprints, they may be those of Orco!" he would only laugh, and say, "Let Orco come; I should like to see him!" When he was sent out upon the mountains with the herds, and had to be alone with them through the dark nights, and his mother bid

1 "Fearless Johnny.” John is a favourite name in Wälsch Tirol, and bears some twenty or thirty variations, as Giovannazzi, Gianaselli, Gianot, Zanetto, Zanolini, Zuani, Degiampietro (John Peter), Zangiacomi (John James), &c.

2 The Latin name of the god of hell remains throughout Italy, and holds in its nurseries the place of "Old Bogie" with us.

him not be afraid, he used to stare at her with his great round eyes as if he wondered what she meant. If a lamb or a goat strayed over a difficult precipice, and the neighbours cried out to him, "Let be ; it is not safe to go after it down that steep place," he would seem to think they were making game of him, and would swing himself over the steep as firmly and as steadily as if he were merely bestriding a hedge. He saw people shun passing through the churchyards by dark, and so he used to make it his habit to sleep every night on the graves; and as they said they were afraid of being struck blind if they slept in the moonlight, he would always choose to lie where the moonbeams fell. Nor thunder, nor avalanche, nor fire, nor flood, nor storm seemed to have any terror for him; so that at last people set him to do every kind of thing they were afraid to do themselves, and he got so much wondered at, that he said, "I will go abroad over the world, and see if I can find any where this same Fear that I hear people talk of."

So he went out, and walked along by the most desolate paths and through frightful stony wildernesses, till he came to a village where there wasa fair goingon. Zovanin was too tired to care much for the dance, so instead of joining it he asked for a bed.

"A bed!" said the host; "that's what I can give you least of all. My beds are for regular customers,