hopes of being able to tempt their Aunts and Sisters to join them in a ramble through the woods of Trentham. They were easily persuaded, and the evening being remarkably fine, even Aunt Mary laid aside all fears of theumatism, and agreed to accompany them. They had several fields to pass through before they came to the park, and Fanny cast many an anxious look at the cows, from a fear she could not conquer, though she hoped her brothers would not observe her.

They reached, at length, the fine open space which fronted the house at Trentham, and led into the park. Deer of various kinds, the spotted, the plain buff, and those with antlers, were skipping about, and Anne was already amusing herself with their various starts and attitudes, as she ran up to these timid little beings. When they had passed the grand sweep and reached the woods, the party soon dispersed in little groups; Jos and Tom spied some robins' nests, which they resolved to secure, although the gentle Fanny joined her earnest petition to the entreaty of her Aunts that they would spare the poor birds. Anne was making a selec

tion of feathers, and was nearly out of sight. She had promised her sister Maria, who had a great taste for drawing, to find her some jay's feathers, whose alternate blue and black stripes, so gay and so glossy, looked remarkably pretty upon skreens. The feathers of the wood-pigeon were prized, too, by our little amateur, for the softness of their colour, and crow-quills were picked up and preserved for her own private use; for she was making, by her papa's advice, a common-place book, and took great delight in writing, in a smaller hand than Mr. Huxley would allow her to do in her copy-books, all the charades and pretty scraps of poetry she could think of.

Fanny all the while was walking by the side of Aunt Mary, picking up every wild flower she could find, that she might learn its name, or carry it home, to examine in her little botany book. These flowers she was preserving in a large mullen leaf, while Aunt Jane had brought a little basket with her, in order to fill it with the leaves of the coaltsfoot plant, to make it into tea, for a poor neighbour who was in a consumption.

THEY all met, at last, at the vale of Tempé, a beautiful opening in the midst of the woods, through which was running a small rivulet of water, over a bed of shining pebbles. The banks on the side of this little stream were green and mossy, and the party seated themselves under the huge arm of a plane-tree, which spread all the way along to the rivulet.

This favourite spot took its name from a fancied miniature resemblance to the famous vale of Tempé in Greece, and none but ornamental weeds were allowed to remain within sight of it.

The rivulet was so clear and sparkling, that every one who visited the spot made a point of taking some of the water up in their hands to taste it; tufts of forget-me-not, speedwell, and the yellow trefoil, grew here and there, quite into the stream, and at the

bottom, where it emptied itself into the large sheet of water that bounded the woods on that side, reeds and flowering grasses waved their tall heads, and almost hid it from the sight. Jos had provided himself with a book; and, as he was a good German scholar, it was the greatest treat he could give his sisters, to translate to them from that language. The story he had brought for this occasion was called Gorgon and Aristomenes, and was founded on an incident in the Grecian history.

They all sat round him, and listened in, silent attention, for the story was a very interesting one; when Aunt Mary began to feel a little dampness in the air, and being afraid of her old enemy, the rheumatism, she was forced, though reluctantly, to summon them to their walk homewards.

The good little girls jumped up so willingly, that Aunt Mary told Jos she hoped he would not forget to put his book in his pocket when he came again to Longfield; and she would try to contrive as agreeable a walk again, that he might finish it to them in as pretty a place as that in which he had begun.

They returned the shortest way through

the woods; but were frequently tempted to stop, to listen to the nightingales, whose evening song had begun, and for which the woods of Trentham were very famous. It was too late to begin reading again that night, but the next morning, as soon as breakfast was over, and a few domestic duties were performed, they all took their usual seats at the bow window; Fanny and Aunt Mary began shading the oak leaves of the rug, and Anne opened her book and read on.

After the conquest of Jotapata, Vespasian and his army returned to Ptolemais. They were received by the citizens with great rejoicings: but not so Josephus, against whom the Romans were very violent, and petitioned Vespasian to put him to death. Vespasian took no notice of their petition, but set about preparing winter quarters for his men. Part of his army he stationed at Cesarea, and part at Scythopolis, but they were not allowed to remain idle long.

A number of citizens had fled from the demolished cities, and had taken refuge in Joppa; and here they employed themselves