Now, in the midst of such a rabble as this, let us just see what was the kind of repose permitted to poor M. de Simplenville de la Jobardière. In the morning he had to gather and arrange bouquets for all the dowagers and old maids. When out for a walk the aforesaid ladies begged him to take charge of their hats and shawls, converting him into a species of walking clothes - press. Every day he had regularly to travel four or five leagues to inform a husband that he would have to do without his wife for a week, to beg a mother's permission to rob her of her daughter, to act the sheriff's officer, and apprehend and bring back, living or dead, the fashionable man of the neighbourhood, without whose presence every fishing-party would end without a bite, every picnic would be spoiled by a shower, every dinner would turn out as dull and silent as a funeral entertainment. It may, perhaps, very naturally be inquired what the servants were doing at the Chateau de la Jobardière. But their number, though far too great in town, was utterly insufficient in the country. They had to wait upon twenty, thirty, and forty people at once. Every service which they were unable to perform fell to the lot of M. de Simplenville de la Jobardière. He, consequently, was the head-servant of his own establishment, and by far the hardest worked of any. Chance did sometimes leave him a few moments of liberty, which he was obliged to devote to keeping guard in the park, the garden, or the orchard, in order to put a little restraint on his numerous visitors, who treated flower-beds, borders, and ripening fruits with no more pity than a swarm of locusts.

"What could I be thinking of, gracious goodness! when I put into those horrid lot teries!" was the unceasing exclamation uttered from morning till night by M. de Simplenville de la Jobardière.

and the mode of lighting.

copy in round-hand text, to save the eyesight of the various actors. He was chosen referce and umpire in the endless disputes which Thalia is sure to inspire in little theatres as well as in great ones. And besides that, he had to study a long, stupid part, which it was unanimously decided he alone was capable of filling.

It was too much! For some time past the measure had been full; nothing now could hinder the vessel from overflowing.

In the middle of a dark night, during which he saw dancing before his eyes a medley of bouquets, hats, shawls, benches, side-scenes, and lamps, all performing a sort of witch-like jig, M. de Simplenville de la Jobardière suddenly jumped out of bed, stole out of the chateau with nothing on but his shirt and his cotton nightcap, crossed the park, made straight for the open country, with his arms folded, his head resting upon his breast, walking on with that solemn pace which budding tragedians delight to imitate. After devoting a considerable time to this gymnastic but unhealthy exercise, he reached the foot of a lofty mountain. Then he climbed from rock to rock, constantly maintaining the same pace and attitude. rived at the summit, he found himself on the edge of a precipice whose depth it was impossible to fathom. He halted a moment, glanced a look of bitter scorn at the world behind him, and, with one loud, resounding yell, cast himself headlong into the abyss!

XI.

Ar

At eight o'clock next morning the sunshine was playing on the white curtains of her bed, when Madame Simple sat up and looked about her.

"Old ducky darling!" said she impatiently. Monsieur Simple stretched out first one arm and then the other.

"Wake up, my pet! make haste and wake, else we shall be too late to see the monkeys let out."

M. Simple rubbed his eyes, looked first at his wife, then at the bed, and then all around

state, the pair of turtles cooing in their cage, Pyrame grunting at his mistress' feet, and Minette stretched carelessly on the hearth. He then pronounced the voluptuous "Ah!" which a man utters when he feels his bosom relieved of a heavy load. M. Simple discovered with joy that he had been the victim of a frightful nightmare!

"Oh, yes, Goody!" he said, pausing in the operation of washing his face: "let us go and see the monkeys; and to-night we will play our game of piquet. Happiness lies in peace and contentment, and not in the plagues and Preserve me from such

worries of wealth. another dream!"

SONG.

Old and New, 1871.

[Henry Neele, born in London, 20th January, 1798; died 7th February, 1828. He was an attorney by profession, but his entire sympathies were given to literature. During his brief career he produced various poems, tales, and sketches, and wrote an interesting work entitled the Romance of History. Unhappily his reason became affected, and in a fit of insanity he destroyed his own life. A complete edition of his works was published in 1829.]

"Old man, old man, thy locks are gray,

And the winter winds blow cold; Why wander abroad on thy weary way, And leave thy home's warm fold?"

"The winter winds blow cold, 'tis true, And I am old to roam;

But I may wander the wide world through, Ere I shall find my home."

"And where do thy children loiter so long? Have they left thee, thus old an ì forlorn, To wander wild heather and hills among, While they quaff from the lusty horn?" "My children have long since sunk to rest,

To that rest which I would were my own; I have seen the green turf placed over each breast, And read each loved name on the stone."

"Then haste to the friends of thy youth, old man, Who loved thee in days of yore;

They will warm thy old blood with the foaming can,
And sorrow shall chill it no more."

"To the friends of my youth in far distant parts,
Over moor, over mount I have sped;
But the kind I found in their graves, and the hearts
Of the living were cold as the dead."

The old man's cheek as he spake grew pale;
On the grass green sod he sank,
While the evening suu o'er the western vale
Set 'mid clouds and vapours dank.

On the morrow that sun in the eastern skies
Rose ruddy and warm and bright;
But never again did that old man rise
From the sod which he press'd that night.

THE RED-NOSED LIEUTENANT.1

Five-and-twenty years ago I was just fiveI was thus neither and-twenty years of age. young nor old; in addition, I was neither handsome nor ugly, neither rich nor poor, neither active nor indolent, neither a Socrates nor a simpleton. More ordinary men than I had been married for love, poorer men had got credit and rolled on their carriage-wheels till it was out, and greater fools had been cabinet councillors. Yet all this did not satisfy me. Years had swept along, and I was exactly the same in point of publicity at five-and-twenty that I lad been at fifteen. Let no man say that the passion for being something or other in the world's eye is an improbable thing. Show me that man, and I will show him my Lord A. driving a mail-coach, the Earl of B. betting at a boxing-match, the Marquis of C. the rival of his own grooms, and the Duke of D. a director of the opera. My antagonist has only to look and be convinced; for what could throw these patricians into the very jaws of public jest but the passion for publicity? I pondered long upon this, and my resolution to do something was at length fixed. But the grand difficulty remained,-what was the thing to be done? what was the grand chemin d'honneur-the longest stride to the temple of fame, the royal road to making a figure in one's generation? The step was too momentous to be rashly taken, and I took time enough, for I took a year. On my six-and-twentieth birthday I discovered that I was as wise and as public as on my birth-day before, and a year older besides! While I was in this state of fluctuation my honoured uncle arrived in town and called upon me. Let me introduce this

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most excellent and most mutilated man. had commenced his career in the American war-a bold, brave, blooming ensign. What he was now I shall not describe; but he had taken the earliest opportunity of glory, and at Bunker's Hill had lost an eye. He was nothing the worse as a mark for an American rifle; and at Brandywine he had the honour of seeing La Fayette run away before him, and paid only a right leg as his tribute to the victory. 1 From the Forget-ine-not, 1827.

My uncle followed on the road to glory, gaining a new leaf of laurel and losing an additional fragment of himself in every new battle, till with Burgoyne he left his nose in the swamps of Saratoga, whence, having had the good fortune to make his escape, he distinguished himself at the siege of York Town, under Cornwallis, and left only an arm in the ditch of the rampart. He had returned a major, and after lying on his back for two years in the military hospital, was set at liberty to walk the world on a pair of crutches, and be called colonel. I explained my difficulty to this venerable remnant of soldiership. "Difficulty!" cried he, starting up on his residuary leg, "I see none whatever. You are young, healthy, and have the use of all your limbs-the very thing for the army!" I glanced involuntarily at his own contributions to the field. He perceived it, and retorted, "Sir, I know the difference between us as well as if I were the field-surgeon. I should never have advised you to march if you had not limbs enough for the purpose; but you have your complement." "And therefore can afford to lose them, my good uncle," said 1. "Nephew," was the reply, "sneering is no argument, except among civilians. But if a man wants to climb at once to a name, let him try the army. Have you no estate? why, the regiment is your freehold; have you no education? why, the colour of your coat will stand you in place of it with three-fourths of the men and all the women; have you no brains? why, their absence will never be missed at the mess; and as for the field, not half a dozen in an army ever exhibit any pretensions of the kind." This was too flattering a prospect to be overlooked. I took the advice; in a week was gazetted into a marching regiment, and in another week was on board his Majesty's transport No. 10 with a wing of the gallant thirty regiment, tacking out of Portsmouth on our way to Gibraltar. Military Inen have it that there are three bad passages -the slow, the quick, and the neither quick nor slow: pronouncing the two former detestable, the latter the storm making a man sick of the sea; the calm making him sick of himself-a much worse thing; and the alternation of calm and storm bringing both sicknesses into one. My first passage was distinguished by being of the third order. I found my fellow-subalterns a knot of goodhumoured beings-the boys with the habits of men, the men with the tricks of boys-all fully impressed with the honour of the epaulette, and thinking the man who wore two instead of one the most favoured of all things

under the sun. We at length came in sight of the famous Rock. It loomed magnificently from the sea; and every glass was to the eye as the lines and batteries, that looked like teeth in its old white head, rose grimly out of the waters. The veterans of the corps were in high delight, and enumerated with the vigour of grateful recollection the cheapness of the wines, the snugness of the quarters, and the general laudible and illaudible pleasantries of the place. The younger listened with the respect due to experience, and, for that evening, an old red-nosed lieutenant, of whom no man had ever thought but as a lieutenant before, became the centre of a circle-a he bluestocking surrounded with obsequious listeners, by virtue of his pre-eminent knowledge of every wine-house in the garrison. Such is the advantage of situation! Nine-tenths of mankind, till they are placed on the spot of display, what are they but ed-nosed lieutenants? At Gibraltar, like Thiebault in Frederic's paradise at Potsdam, we conjugated from morning till night the verb, "Je m'ennuie, tu t'ennuies, il s'ennuie," through all its persons, tenses, and moods. At length we were ordered for Egypt. Never was regiment so delighted. We supped together upon the news, and drank farewell to Gibraltar and confusion to in bumpers without measure. In the very height of our carousal my eye dropped upon my old friend's red nose. It served me as a kind of thermometer. I observed it diminished of its usual crimson. "The spirit has fallen," thought I; "there is ill luck in the wind.' I took him aside, but he was then too far gone for regular counsel; he only clasped my hand with the fervour of a fellow-drinker, and muttered out, lifting his glass with a shaking wrist, “Nothing but confoundedly bad brandy in Egypt for love or money." We sailed; were shipwrecked on the coast of Caramania, and surrounded by natives. Soldiers are no great geographers; the line leave that business to the staff, the staff to the artillery, the artillery to the engineers, and the engineers to Providence. At our council, which was held on a row of knapsacks, and with one pair of trousers among its seven sages, it was asserted, with equal show of reason, that we were in Africa, in Arabia, in Turkey, and in the Black Sea. However, our sheepskin friends were urgent for our departure.

We finally sailed for Egypt: found the French building fortifications on the shore; and, like a generous enemy, landed just where they had provided for our reception. But the world knows all this already, and I disdain to