I can't say just how we began it,
In a blush, or a smile, or a sigh:
Fate took but an instant to plan it;
It needs but a moment to die.
Yet I think I recall the occasion

When the flowers you had dropped at your feet

I restored. The Familiar Quotation
Was-"Sweets to the sweet."

Oh, their delicate perfume has haunted
My senses a whole season through:

If there was one soft charm that you wanted
The violets lent it to you.

I whispered you, life was but lonely:
A cue which you graciously took;

And your eyes learned a look for me only-
A very nice look.

We were idle, and played for a moment

At a game that now neither will press:

I cared not to find out what No meant;

Nor your mouth to grow yielding with Yes. Love is done with and dead; if there lingers A faint and indefinite ghost,

It is laid with this kiss on your fingers-
A jest at the most.

'Tis a commonplace, stale situation,

Now the curtain comes down from above

On the end of our little flirtation

A travesty-romance; for Love,
If he climbed in disguise to your lattice,
Fell dead of the first kisses' pain,
But one thing is left us now: that is-
Begin it again.

Where yer goin.

One bay horse, of the value of fifty dollars, more or less

(The same then and there being of the property, goods and chattels of one Hezekiah Hess); Contrary to the statute in such case expressly made And provided; and against the peace and dignity of the state wherein the venue had been laid. The prisoner, Joseph Scroggs, was then arraigned upon this charge,

And plead not guilty, and of this he threw himself upon the country at large;

And said Joseph being poor, the Court did graciously appoint

Mr. Smith to defend him-much on the same principle that obtains in every charity hospital, where a young medical student is often set to rectify a serious injury to an organ or a joint. The witnesses seemed prejudiced against poor Mr. Scroggs;

And the district attorney made a thrilling speech,

in which he told the jury that if they didn't find for the state he reckoned he'd have to "walk their logs;

Then Mr. Smith arose and made his speech for the defense,

Wherein he quoted Shakspere, Blackstone, Chitty, Archbold, Joaquin Miller, Story, Kent, Tupper, Smedes and Marshall, and many other writers, and everybody said they "never heered sich a bust of eloquence."

And he said: "On this hypothesis, my client must go free;

And: "Again, on this hypothesis, it's morally impossible that he could be guilty, don't you see?" And: "Then, on this hypothesis, you really can't convict;

And so on, with forty-six more hypotheses, upon none of which, Mr. Smith ably demonstrated, could Scroggs be derelict.

But the jury, never stirring from the box wherein they sat,

If you-if you

I mean, if you would paper pink or blue."
[Second Attempt.]

"I really think I'm getting rather ancient-
Was twenty-eight upon the first of May-
So I've resolved, that is, if you will help me,
To find-to find-

Something to keep my hair from turning gray." [Third Attempt.]

"What would you say, if I-if I should tell you That there is no one half so dear to me

In all the wide, wide world, or e'en in heaven, As is-as is

In these hot days, as is first-class iced tea."

opinion of the villagers is favorable to "the States," but the sexton-a bluff, hectoring fellow with pronounced views in favor of church and state-bears no love for this land of liberty and law. Sometimes a queer paragraph appears in the newspaper relating an instance of lynch-law in Arkansas, or of party politics in Louisiana, and then the sexton cries out against Americans as a boastful and corrupt people. He succeeds in turning the current against them for a few days, but when next week's paper comes, Giles reads the eloquent words of praise spoken by Mr. Froude, Mr. Forster, Professor Huxley or Professor Tyndall, and is re-established to the old faith.

Some of the old villagers who formerly sat around the fire and drowsed away all the evenings of the year are settled in Australia, Canada or the United States. Letters often come to the village from them, with small amounts of money or photographs which represent the writers as brighterlooking and in better dress than they ever appeared at home. The most encouraging accounts of all come from "the States," and when honest Giles is sorely pressed with difficulties, and Mrs. Giles is fading for want of proper nutriment, and her boys are running to waste, after long deliberation and many regrets Giles resolves to sell his little all and embark for New York. When he announces his resolution to his cronies at "The King's Arms," the hostelry is stirred by a ripple of excitement such as it seldom experiences, but as the evening advances Giles is left to himself, and, contemplating the steamship placard through the clouds of his tobacco smoke, the gaudy printing reveals a series of dissolving views of happiness and prosperity awaiting him across the sea.

He selects one of the Liverpool steamers, as they have the best reputation and are the most convenient. His choice is the common one. More than half the whole number of emigrants coming to the United States, arrive at New York in vessels from the former port. One morning, then, Giles finds himself surrounded by his numerous family and baggage on the Great Landingstage at Liverpool. The vast floating pier is crowded with departing emigrants, who are as confused and frightened as a flock of sheep. The majority are English, Irish and Scotch; but there are also bearded Russians and Poles, enveloped in frowzy furs; uncleanly Italians, some of them carrying dingy musical instruments, with a con

It is a

siderable number of Germans. curious fact, by the way, that as many German emigrants come to America via Liverpool as come in the German steamers direct from Hamburg or Bremen. They are conveyed to Hull by water, and thence across England to Liverpool by rail.

Mr. Giles is a little dismayed by the appearance of his prospective traveling companions. A good many sinister men and loose women are noticeable, and Giles thinks sadly of the distant corners of the earth which must have been swept out in the gathering of them. But among the unclean outcasts the sturdy plowman rejoices to find a few who are like himself and his wife-neat in dress and cleanly in person. The busy, gold-laced interpreters and emigration agents treat all alike, however, answering questions gruffly or not at all, and often causing the hot blood to rush madly into Giles's indignant face.

After much worry and noise, the emigrants are taken from the landing-stage by a small steamboat and conveyed to the large vessel anchored in the stream. As they pass up the narrow gangway the tickets are scanned by one officer, while another orders "single men forrad," and "single women aft." So the crowd divided into two streams, and in the course of an hour the decks of the big steamship are reduced to a condition of order.

is

The

Each emigrant has a contract ticket which stipulates for his transportation to New York in consideration of four, five or six guineas, according to the current rate of fare. The company engages to provide a full supply of wholesome provisions, cooked and served by its stewards, and the passenger is required to provide himself with bedding and cooking utensils. weekly allowance of food for each adult is prescribed by the government and printed on the contract ticket as follows: "Twentyone quarts of water, three and a half pounds of bread, one pound of wheaten flour, one pound and a half of oat-meal, rice and peas, two pounds of potatoes, one and a quarter pounds of beef, one pound of pork, two ounces of tea, one pound of sugar, two ounces of salt, pepper, mustard and vinegar."

The emigrants are berthed by the steerage stewards, and are then marshaled on deck again under the scrutiny of a government inspector who is in search of infectious diseases. Their tickets are also examined again, and some would-be stowaways are sent back to the shore in the little tender.

Piteous complaints are made by some unfortunates among the passengers that they have been robbed of their money in the town, or that they have lost their tickets; but their cries are unavailing and are drowned in the roar of escaping steam and the clangor of the bells. By and by the cabin passengers are brought on board, and with a full cargo and a thousand souls the great steamer leaves her moorings.

Let us preface all that we have to say against the manner in which Giles and his fellow-voyagers are treated with this frank admission : Constant improvements are being made in emigrant passenger vessels. Less than a hundred years ago the great majority of emigrants were very poor,-so poor, indeed, that they could not prepay their passage. Accepting advances, they were bonded to the ship-owners, who derived enormous profits from the sale of their bodies into temporary slavery. Charles Reade has given a vivid description of the emigrant traffic at this period in his delightful story of "The Wandering Heir." Whenever a vessel arrived at Philadelphia or New York, the steerage passengers were sold at public auction to the highest bidder. The country people either came themselves to purchase, or sent agents. Parents sold their children, that they might remain free themselves, and families were scattered never to be re-united. Old people and widows did not sell well; while healthy parents with healthy children, and youths of both sexes, always found a ready market.

When one or both parents died on the voyage, the expenses of the whole family were summed up, and charged to the survivor or survivors. Adults had to serve from three to six years, and children until they became of age. Runaways had to serve one week for each day, one month for each week, and six months for each month of their absence. Technically, the emigrants were called "indented servants ·" but in effect they were slaves.

The last sales of emigrants took place in Philadelphia during the years 1818 and 1819. The American government then interfered with the traffic, and encouraged the emigration of a superior class of people. But the accommodations for emigrants remained shamefully defective, and nearly twenty out of every hundred passengers died at sea of fever or starvation. The steerage deck was usually about five feet high, without ventilation or light, and in this space the bunks were ranged in two or three tiers.

The health of the passengers was further impaired by another evil which, up to a very recent date, prevailed on board emigrant vessels. The emigrants were expected to provide and cook their own food. Many embarked without any provisions at all, or an insufficient quantity, and others found no opportunity to cook what they had. On the upper deck of the vessel there were two small" galleys," about five feet wide and four feet deep, each supplied with a grate, and these were the only arrangements made for cooking the food of several hundred persons.

Thousands never lived to see their destination. Out of about ninety-eight thousand laborers sent from Ireland to Canada after the famine of 1846, nearly twenty-five thousand perished in consequence of the poor rations and defective ventilation of the ships. Later still, in 1868, on one vessel alone,—the "Leibnitz," from Hamburg,-over one hundred passengers died, out of five hundred.

Giles lives in better days. The mortality on vessels bringing emigrants to New York seldom exceeds one and two-thirds per cent., and in some instances is no greater than oneeighth per cent. But Giles is dissatisfied, and we mean to see whether or not he is justified in his ill-humor. The great steamer soon bids good-bye to the Mersey, and rolls on her way through the cross waters of the Irish Sea toward Queenstown. The sky is overcast and sullen; rain and spray patter on the deck; the wind shrieks in chilly blasts. Between the gray clouds overhead and the gray waters beneath, the black hull of the steamer tosses and groans uneasily. great passengers of the first cabin and the small passengers of the steerage are afflicted with a common complaint, and are prostrate in their berths, or in a humiliating attitude on deck. The weather is always the same in the Irish Sea-always cold, wet, and windy. So while the most acute of Giles's present miseries may be alleviated, it cannot be altogether averted.

The

The emigrants are roughly driven hither and thither, and urged into their places by much hard swearing and abuse. Neither officers nor men consider them worthy of the least respect, and treat them as a drove of cattle. Some of the vagabonds and outcasts submit without complaint; but decent laborers, like Giles, feel indignant and are inclined to resent the savage words.

Giles can scarcely believe that the steerage is intended to be a house for human beings. It is cold, dark, and-at the very outset of