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the day iv har deth ever afther, an' 'twas he had the crow over thim that wouldn't go width him. An' 'twas like a new wedding, they made sich rejicing an' gev away sich aitin' an' drinkin' whin the Vanithee was ond her her own roof agin; an' there was no fear but there was hollidays made for Bridkeen whinever she cum the way dhuring her life. An', indeed, 'twas my own father that stud (47) for the second child Joanny had afther lavin' the good people; but she always kep dark about what she see while she was there, unless, whatsumever, past 'atween herself and Mick about it. But he never tould aither, an' many a long year they lived together in comfort; an' Joanny bet Jeffers in Blarney in a lawsoot about some fields or another that Mick wouldn't daare have any call to width him only for her, an' 'twas offtin and offtin he used to say, an' he talkin' to himself walkin' through the daymane, "What harm to be bet, only to be bet be 'Joanny, the Fairies.'

دو

Well, they're all dead an' gone now, more's the pity they couldn't live always; but, as I said in the bigining, this is no dhoorshé dhorsha, but the plane thruth as it tuck plaice, an' it would be a dale bether for thin onshucks iv people that don'no what's good for 'em, that do be goin' to furrin parts lookin' for pleashure, iv they come an' see the ould grey ainciont castle that faced out all Crummel's canning (48) an' the fine daymane width the rock close in it, where the wild flowers are as thick as the grass, and the lake that could never be dhrained; where the say-horse lives an' the chist iv the real ould goold, is an the Blarney stone, that would tache 'em to coax the birds off av the bushes, for one kiss they'd give it. Ayeh! 'tis many's the sweet warm kiss they'd get through the mane's iv that one cowld one aftherwards, an' the beautyful counthry all about it where the whole story happin'd, an' where there's nayther baste or sarpint, or man or bird to hurt 'em, onless a purty rogish half-look from a nate light-footed colleen dhas (49) would do 'em any harm; and, egor, I'm tould there's quare fellows goin' there that would frightin' them too, but shure they're no loss anywhere, 'tis aqual where they goes to, be say or land, tisn't the like iv thim mane craythures we'd like to see among us, but the fine sperited dacint people that go sthravagin' away width thinselves for the want of knowing better to thim oncivilized counthries where, I'm tould, 'tis all Latting an' Frinch they do be talkin' an' not a good bit to put in their mouth, payin' away their honist money for pison an' gibberish an' allygathors, in plaice iv coming to Blarney where everything is clane an' upright and ondherstandable, an' not to be climbering up thim misforthunate slippery cowld mountains an' lavin' their bones afther 'em there for their pains.

(47) Became sponsor. (48) Cromwell's cannons. (49) Pretty girl.

LOVE'S AWAKENING.

(An Idyl.)

BY "METEOR.”

It was a summer's eve, and underneath
The shadowy trees you kissed me. In my heart
That moment came a new, fair world to light-
A world illumined by a rosy glow

Of new, fond thoughts, and passionate, sweet joy!
If you had left me there, and nevermore
Mine eyes had seen you-had I never heard
Your voice again, or felt the tender clasp
That held me (willing captive!) to your heart,
No less would that new world have still been mine,
Like the immortal soul of man, once called
Into a being that can know no end,

So was it with my love-it could not die.

Ah me!

When you were gone I doted o'er the thought
That you were mine, dear love! I pressed my hands
Above the throbbing heart, that beat so fast
With knowledge of its own intense delight.
I slept, and in my dreams you kissed me still,
And, like the shadow of some lovely thing,
Came all the sweetness of my joy again.
Ere long the day-dawn came upon the world,
Breaking in lines of light across the sky,
That grew to sun-rise beauty-as my heart
Had grown to brightness by your love.
In all this world was there one other soul
So steeped in happiness as mine that day?
I could not rest, or calmly think-I longed
To be alone among the fields and trees,
For I was stifled with sweet thoughts, and love
Rau riot in my heart. The springing corn-
The little blue-eyed flower, that reared its head
Out from among the green spears of the grass
To take a peep at what the world was like-
The breeze that whispered in the maple-leaves-
The song of every tiny bird whose throat
Swelled with the sweetness of his gladsome song-
The clouds that floated on the summer sky-
All seemed to know my secret, and to say:
"He loves you, loves you, loves you-only you!"

Life drifts us on-the end must needs be near-
Joys fade, hopes die; we toil, and weep and pray.
The flower is often far less fair to view
Than was the bud; or, if the flower be fair,
The wind comes, and the rain, and, bowed to earth,
The lovely head lies low. I, too, have known
My share of woman's joys and tears; but yet
I can look back upon the changeful way,
And thank the dear God, watching over all,
In that to me it once was given to know
Such perfect joy as in that hour when first
You kissed me, darling, and my heart awoke!

A True Friend.—A true friend is distinguished in the crisis of hazard and necessity-when the gal lantry of his aid may show the worth of his soul and the loyalty of his heart.-Ennius,

BADEN-BADEN IN 185 3.

CHAP. III.

PASSIM PARTOUT.

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were alone visible of all the phenomena of his countenance. But an owl from the recess of its ivy home could not have peered more watchfully abroad than did the embellished orbs of this personage from their loop-holes amid the Hospodar rankness of his hirsute face.

might readily be argued that a no less exquisite discrimination had been exercised in the bestowal of their invisible details. From one hand, flashing with jewels, was suspended by "After all," said Ernest, as we stood in the a silken loop an ivory walking-stick, overportico of the Maison de Conversation, "Baden wrought with the microscopic chasing which is the true Paradise of Fools. What a pity Chinese art so eminently well achieves, and that old Erasmus did not live here! under such surmounted with an immense Mont Blanc auspices as these, his 'Praise of Folly' would crystal, of singular form and lustre. A pair have been immortal. Think how he would of the most piercing eyes I ever met, and a have thriven on the bagatelle that abounds in tremendous Huger nose, upon whose summit a these ancient purlieus of unreason! Depend pair of lorgniettes of almost fabulous size upon it, you will never discover another green had perched-resembling a magnified insect spot on the globe where the human caravan-newly alit and settling to take flight againserai is 'shown up' half so delightfully. But hallo! apropos of oddities, here he comes, the facile princeps, the magnate of monkeys, the great uncaged; behold him slouching up this avenue ! When I look upon that man, I can readily conceive how Pythagoras was inspired with his creed; that individual is a walking text of transmigration. His soul has certainly travelled the rounds of creation, though I would stake my life that this is the first time it has tenanted a human receptacle; he is not accustomed to being a human being, that's evident. I don't believe he can quite divest himself of an uneasy suspicion that he is an estray from the Jardin des Plantes or Regent's Park, where he might, without inordinate ambition, aspire to emperorship over the giraffe, ring-tailed and striped creation. Certain I am that the most refractory outang would embrace him in the freemasonry of fraternization, and stupid would be the brute who failed to recognize in him the blended attributes of travelled monkey and dancing-bear. Saw you ever his like?"

In fact, my attainment both in zoology and in human nature were exercised by a bizarre test as I attempted to define within any known classification the object of my companion's mirth; but I found him altogether anomalous. The semblance of a man he certainly wore. His person was sumptuously robed in a darkgreen-body, curiously and profusely frogged, and trimmed with a volume of glistening sable, in the nice selection of which, apparently, at least a dozen skins must have been ransacked. A light velvet cloak drooped from one shoulder like a mourning-flag at half-mast. A lofty, peaked chapeau, decked with a plume, and resembling the style in which Persian Mufti appear on high holidays, towered slantingly above his head. A pair of lucent boots, which reflected the very landscape around, rose tasselled to his knees, and became recipients of his brilliant pantaloons, from the consummate adjustment of whose supernal flowing folds it

"And pray, who is your incarnate prodigy of a friend ?" whispered I, as the ambulating apparition drew near.

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Softly: Not to know him argues yourself unknown. Let me present you immediately to Herr Graff, the Erlaught Passim Partout, the Polish traveller who has seen everything, and has fought under the banners of a dozen different nations in as many zones."

A PINCH OF SNUFF.

The process of introduction followed, and the bestowal of a languid nod ensued. These preliminaries being properly completed, a snuffbox of malachite was extended on the part of the prodigy. An almost instantaneous fit of sneezing, coupled with an obeisance of adoring, though involuntary, profoundness, expressed my ineffable sense of the pungency appertinent to the malachite's contents.

This proceeding opened conversation. The Erlaught Passim Partout found my demonstration much to his taste, because very flattering; though whether to himself or to his snuff-box, he did not stop to inquire, being one of the numerous class who esteem commendation bestowed upon any portion of their property as a compliment naturally transferable to themselves. Gravely he returned my snuff-inspired bow, and again the treacherous weed's repository was proffered.

Again we all three stood extracted therefrom, particularly the Count, who closed his eyes and threw back his head to repeat his inhalation-a repetition this time intensified by an absolute unction; a confessed gusto, a brain-beguiling abandon of enjoyment; an excessive and ab

sorbing spell of sensuous sighs, which seemed | to float his charmed soul far, far away on the tide of streaming lungs into Araby the Blest, the land of spices and odours. Slowly broke the protracted dream at length, and suffered reviving consciousness to shift the current of his breath from its olfactory channel to his lips, where now it found vent in a peculiarly soft voice.

TRAVELS.

"Ah! monsieur, you appreciate, I perceive, the fine bouquet of my snuff; permit me to inform you that well you may. It is no ordinary breath you draw when freighted with these aromatic grains. Will you do me the honour to examine my establishment (presenting the box); the rich setting, you will remark, betokens that it is the repository of a superior article; and a very superior article certainly is enclosed. Do me the honour to decipher the legend on the lid; it reads, The Incense of Heroes: The Hospodar of Wallachia to the Erlaught Passim Partout.' You look puzzled. It was a present from the Hospodar when I had the good-fortune to render him the service of detailing the topography of the Moldavian frontier, where the insurrection had broken out; and by timely intervention prevented six provinces from being overrun by the lawless canaille. This snuff is produced under glass globes six feet in height and sixteen in diameter, and is supposed to be the finest in the world. One of its most remarkable properties is that of operating powerfully upon the human voice; by means of a few months' assiduous use of it, the most stentorian voice is rendered soprano. As for myself, I do not venture to use it in undiluted purity; this, of which you have just partaken, is at least one third adulterated with rappee. But, as I was saying, after being grown in a very limited quantity, and with the nicest attention-for it is full as delicate as a sensitive-plant-the miniature crop of the reclaimed weed is gathered; and, after an almost infinite succession of processesamong which number eleven pulverizations the perfected article is deposited and preserved for seasoning in nine opaque urns, usually of sarcophagus, which are in the palace cellar. No doubt you would wish to bear more fully how the true flattering flavour is attained ?”

I was making a kind of affirmative noise when Ernest, to whom these snuff histories were nothing new, and who dreaded the repetition of narratives in which, whether true or false, frequent repetition had rendered the raconteur perfect, suffered his impatience to break through the dumb display it had thus far maintained:

"Pardon, but I had quite forgotten to ask your opinion of Baden-Baden."

"I asked you that question long ago, mon cher. Baden is a sponge which is charged with the essences of everything agreeable in all Europe. I pass by my séjour in the valley of

Jehoshaphat, but in order to explain the variance in the systems which came under my observation at the Persian Spas and at the tepid baths of Tartary-speaking of the east do you use haschish?"

"Oh!" exclaimed Ernest, hurriedly, "you never alluce to your health now; pray tell me if you find it much improved."

"Your solicitude is considerate and kind; but my malady is, I fear, scarcely attainable by these waters. I contracted my last asthma by being precipitated in an avalanche from the Mount of Olives-bah! I mean the Jungfrau. Strange! that lapsus."

"Which? the avalanche ?"

"No, the lapsus linguae. It is because I have seen so much more than I can remember-"

"Or remember so much more than you have seen," added Ernest, in an under tone.

"As I was saying, it was in the month of June that, just as I had arranged my meteorological instruments upon the "Virgin Moun tain," a beastly avalanche started from its bed, and enveloping my person in its mould, hurled me several thousand feet into the valley. Whether owing to the extreme celerity of descent, or to the pressure of snow upon my chest, I am uncertain; but I am unable to draw a clear breath ever since. Allow me to relate }}

"But," insisted Ernest, with great rapidity of utterance, "it is said that the baths are fre quently used with great advantage in such disorders."

"I grant you, when taken in the north, hot baths are as beneficial as delightful. Only two years ago I submitted to a course of barboiling in Norway, and derived immense benefit. The rationale of my winter course in Norway” "What! seriously, in winter?" interrupted again my friend.

"Strictly, sir, in winter. I never regulate my movements by those of other people. My mission to Petersburg was in January."

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'Your entire life, I imagine, must have been devoted to purposes of travelling," I interposed, equally entertained by the Count's glimpses of narration and by the nervous suspension of Ernest.

"Life-motion-commotion-sir, you conjecture rightly. I require constant change of air: if I remain so long as a week at one place, I am obliged to seek artificial substitutes for a diversity of scene. Sir, you have seen America. A great nation are the Americans; they like novelty. My favourite scheme at present is a horseback expedition through that extensive country."

"I think you might be induced to abandon horseback in favour of a more expeditious mode of travel before the completion of your

tour."

"All a mistake, sir. Horseback is the only mode for a gentleman to travel. As for time, what was travel invented for but to kill time? Besides, my aversion is a trodden track. My

chief occupation of afternoons is to seek out some unknown avenue, where mortal foot has rarely or never been before."

"There go some gentlemen who perhaps can pioneer you to such a terra incognita," said Ernest, pointing to three sportsmen who were driving by in a dog-cart; "at least, I mean, if they succeed in finding game, it will be in parts unknown to me. My fowling-piece has been rusting ingloriously ever since my arrival.

"That," replied the Count, who was always for viewing things in the gross, "is the result of your own inaction. Practice and perseverance, gentlemen, make the best brace of pointers. A keen huntsman with these may scare up white bears in Arabia, or antelopes in Liberia. I well remember," continued he, throwing into his countenance an unusual supply of that dreamy abstractedness which was the sure precursor to usher into the world an anecdote of unusual imagination, "I well remember, when in Central Africa, after shooting lions for three months, I began to long for the sight of a pheasant. Says the Sheik, 'Impossible;' says I, 'If your highness will wager two Abyssinian

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Again Ernest dashed impetuously into the web of the Count's fresh historiette: "Apropos -who do you think has arrived to-day ?"

"Who? Lablache, or the Grand Duke, or ?" guessed the Count.

"Neither; you are wrong and stupid. But I'm afraid you'll think it too good to be true. It is no less than Goutfin, the Howard of cuisines, the sun of the table, the immortal cook! I had almost forgotten to tell you; he came three hours ago with a suite of turn-spits, and enters upon his artistic duties at Mellerio's this very day. All Baden, as you may suppose, is in a stew."

"Enough," sung the Count; "this is an advent. I shall go this instant. Gentlemen, I have received a box of partridges from the Chateau of Mark Brunnen. Until today I have been unwilling to intrust them to the harsh cookery of the restaurant; but now, but now, indeed, I can safely invite you both to partake of a dish fit for the gods. Will you join me at six? Yes? Then I must be off at once to engage the celestial offices of Goutfin. Au revoir."

"You see," said Ernest, as the traveller skipped away, "that the 'picked man of countries is not necessarily perfect. Partout is a remarkable instance of a political Ishmaelite. Partly for pleasure, and partly on diplomatic errands, he has roamed from Indus to the Pole,' until at last his principles have become as heterogeneous as his habits, and the simplest ideas of truth are, in his mind, as varying as the points of a compass. I am not sure but that he believes his own stories, for there is something natural in his very exaggeration."

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AN ACOLYTE.

Punctual and not slow were we at six o'clock to meet the Erlaught Passim Partout in the assembly-rooms of Mellerio and Buffa. The petit diner was really of the most recherché order. Our Amphytrion was not unworthy of the profession of Lucullus; and M. Goutfin abundantly proved that the mantle of Beauvilliers (whose ascension from the cuisine to heaven took place in 1820) had fallen upon shoulders not incompetent to wear the gastric glories of his predecessor.

The company at our table numbered one more than that of the Graces, the minimum of Grecian conviviality. It was a partie carré; and the fourth guest was brought by Partout-for no earthly purpose that I could divine, unless to earn his right to the seat he occupied by playing henchman to the Count in the latter's more au dacious careerings upon the marvellous. A man who can lie like an epitaph is seldom improved at dinner, even though he may drink as deep as the well of Truth itself. Certes, if veritas be dissolved in vino, our Erlaught entertainer contrived to swallow the mingled composition with an excellent grace, and to conceal all signs of the secret working of either ingredient. It was to season and sustain these ebullitions that the services of our new acquaintance were called into requisition.

From the perfect familiarity with which he fell into his rôle, I rightly conjectured that to play bottle-holder in these encounters of imagination was, for him, no novel employment. The acolyte's fat face would have presented a Chinese puzzle for a physiognomist, it being without lines, character, or expression; in all respects as blank as a barn-door of any indications whatsoever, except a crop of pallid pitmarks, which at once made it palpable that he was one of those unfortunates for whom "Jenner had lived in vain.”

❘ There he sat, with his square face, and twinkling eyes, and napkined chin. There he sat, with the immobile pertinacity of the sedentary Theseus, of whom it is written, Sedet, semper que sedebit. There he sat, examining everything with attention, but never uttering a word; while his features remained as unalterable as those of a blind man; only, when compelled by the repletion of his plete to refuse a proffered dish, he would heave what the French call a sigh à la Walter Scott: that is to say, very like a groan. Or when he heard a sally, or a facetious trait, his visage would spread apace, his eyes would close, and opening a mouth about the size of the pavilion of a French horn, he would cause to issue therefrom a prolonged sound which the horses outside would catch up and reecho. But when Partout advised himself to enter upon a narration of unusually immense magnitude an enterprise which was invariably announced by some species of moral legerde main that the bottle-holder never failed to ap prehend the latter would show himself capable of a yet more emphatic demonstration. He

ceased masticating altogether, and poised the handles of knife and fork upon the table in his clenched fists. Then, raising full opposite the speaker the square face, which all at once from some secret source began to beam with suggestiveness, he fell into the attitude of the idiotic figure on the extreme right of Thom's celebrated group of Tam o'Shanter. Did the story flag, he was there to relieve it with a cheerful chirp. Did it too wantonly transcend belief, there he was, all primed with some presumptive evidence, which he failed not to urge with all the corroborating force of a Druidical voice, that seemed to say, "Doubt me if you dare!" After which he would come to order again, and relapse into his habitual taciturnity.

THE RESTAURANT.

The salon of a restaurateur is the Eden of gourmands it likewise contains much that is worthy of observation. The only two things certain in life, appetite and ennui, make it an unfailing lounging-place for men of leisure; and, examined a little in detail, it offers to the eye of the philosopher a tableau, made worthy of interest by the variety of situations which it assembles.

But it is not my intention to be betrayed into making a catalogue raisonée of the frequenters who may have come under my notice; although Ceres and Bacchus have numbered among their votaries many handsome women who embellished the repasts of which they partook; and some of the other sex who caused their listeners to forget the mortal weakness that drew them hither in a flow of conversation which eloquently evidenced that Ariel's light presence is not necessarily dispelled by the rattle of unmusical steel.

But just as one of Lanner's liveliest airs had struck up from the adjacent pavilion, came the hour when the brotherhood of gamblers enjoy a brief respite from pale confinement. As they flocked in the muniment-room to recruit their exhausted forces for another campaign, it was pair ful to perceive how completely the unrewarded partisans of fortune seemed to have parted with Nature's best gifts-their spirits as well as their purses. You might make shrewd conjectures as to the various successes of the new comers by noting the character of the dishes they advocated. Pigeons, sweet-breads, forced meats, and devilled kidneys were in in mense favour with the most melancholystricken; nor was there any lack of deep potations of the fiercest fluids that flow from the pleasant land of " Cognac, Charlemagne, and Champagne," whose light-hearted distillers assuredly never dreamed that the blood of their darling grape was being shed to make "sops for Cerberus." On the other hand, dindes aux truffes, and garnishing accessories, seasoned with a nectarean infusion of such Burgundy as one drinks between Dijon and Chalons, composed the more refreshing portion of an epicurean minority.

"Gassoon!" shouted a huge man with Hibernian features, who had been silently and grimly contemplating the bill of fare, to a waiter who wore suspended from his neck a placard, on which the announcement" English Spoken" was inscribed in staring capitals. "Yaw milord!"

Bring me a Tartarean tart, hot as as quick as lightning!"

"Yaw! milord!"

"A glass of absinthe, and a bottle of Burgundy in ice." "Yaw-milord!"

"Yaw the divil! and ye call this ‘English spoken,' do ye? Niver ye yaw a gintleman agin."

"Yaw, milord! exclaimed the polyglot menial, darting down into the lower realms, out of reach of the excitable Irishman. Whether he succeeded in concocting the species of tart in request, I know not; but judging from the gratification inspired by his return, it was fair to presume that an excellent substitute, at least, was procured.

"Was befehlen mien Herren?" stutters forth the little female garçon.

"Remove my egg instantly, and bring another!-faugh! it is offensive!" shouts a German with a broad chest and forehead.

"But, sir," she remonstrates, after a nasal experiment upon the repudiated esculent," the egg is sound and fresh; try it, sir.”

"Try! do you wish to try my temper? Is it not enough that the egg is in bad odour with

me?

An egg, to be palatable, should be like Cæsar's wife!" thundered the exasperated Ger man, rising; "like the wife of Cæsar, I tell you--not to be tried: not to be proven pure; but above suspicion-above reproach!"

At this sortie, which she takes almost for an insult, the little female garçon replies with a ja wohl, pronounced à la Saxonne, containing at least a dozen 0-0-0-0, which may be translated, "A pretty piece of impertinence, truly, in an establishment like ours!"

At length the beneficent influence of the scene began to be felt by the most ravenous and wrathful of the guests. Countenances lost much of their contraction as person expanded. Six speculators near me, upon whom Fortune had turned the cold shoulder, now thoroughly warmed themselves by dint of environing and draining a foaining punch-bowl of true Bavarian dimensions, and were soon in fair train to make light of the heaviest blows that Chance could inflict. A single salad, just touched with the magic of Goutfin, restored to the bosom of society a Frenchman who had quite lost heart from long lunching on ill-luck. Three bottles of white-wine, limpid as water springing from a rock, and sparkling enough to create thirst in a mad-dog, effected miracles in a third group. Nor should I omit an honourable mention of a capon fricasée, so richly doweried with truffles that it might have sufficed to rejuvenate the old Tithonus: its efficacy elicited a perfect cascade of compliments from

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