ter, and be responsible for that division of the house. I gave him minute instructions about how to detect indistinct jokes, and then went away, and left him chuckling, placidly, over the novelty of the idea.

10. I ate nothing on the last of the three eventful days - I only suffered. I had advertised that, on this third day, the box-office would be opened for the sale of reserved seats. I crept down to the theatre at four in the afternoon to see if any sales had been made. The ticket-seller

I had to swal

was gone, the box-office was locked up.
low suddenly, or my heart would have got out. "No
sales," I said to myself; "I might have known it.”

11. I thought of suicide, pretended illness, flight. I thought of these things in earnest, for I was very miserable and scared. But, of course, I had to drive them away, and prepare to meet my fate. I could not wait for half-past seven; I wanted to face the horror, and end it, the feeling of many a man doomed to hang, no doubt.

12. I went down back streets, at six o'clock, and entered the theater by the back door. I stumbled my way, in the dark, among the ranks of canvas scenery, and stood on the stage. The house was gloomy and silent, and its emptiness, depressing.

13. I went into the dark, among the scenes, again, and for an hour and a half gave myself up to the horrors, wholly unconscious of everything else. Then, I heard a murmur; it rose higher and higher, and ended in a crash, mingled with cheers. It made my hair rise, it was so close to me, and so loud.

14. There was a pause, and, then another; presently came a third, and, before I well knew what I was about, I was in the middle of the stage, staring at a sea of faces, bewildered by the fierce glare of the lights, and quaking

in

every limb with a terror that seemed like to take my life away. The house was full, aisles and all!

15. The tumult in my heart and brain and legs continued a full minute, before I could gain any command over myself. Then, I recognized the charity and the friendliness in the faces before me, and, little by little, my fright melted away, and I began to talk.

16. Within three or four minutes, I was comfortable, and even content. My three chief allies, with three auxiliaries, were on hand, in the parquette, all sitting together, all armed with bludgeons, and all ready to make an onslaught upon the feeblest joke that might show its head. Whenever a joke did fall, their bludgeons came down, and their faces seemed to split from ear to ear; Sawyer, whose hearty countenance was seen looming redly in the center of the second circle, took it up, and the house was carried handsomely. Inferior jokes never fared so royally before.

17. Presently, I delivered a bit of serious matter with impressive unction (it was my pet), and the audience listened with an absorbed hush that gratified me more than any applause; and, as I dropped the last word of the clause, I happened to turn and catch Mrs.'s intent and waiting eye; my conversation with her flashed upon me, and, in spite of all I could do, I smiled. She took it for the signal, and promptly delivered a mellow laugh that touched off the whole audience, and the explosion. that followed was the triumph of the evening.

18. I thought that that honest man, Sawyer, would choke himself; and as for the bludgeons, they performed like pile-drivers. But my poor little morsel of pathos was ruined. It was taken in good faith as an intentional joke, and the prize one of the entertainment, and I wisely let it go at that.

19. All the papers were kind in the morning; my appetite returned; I had abundance of money. All's well that ends well."- Mark Twain (Samuel L. Clemens) abridged.

LXXXV. - THE TRAILING ARBUTUS.

DARLINGS of the forest!

Blossoming, alone,

When earth's grief is sorest

For her jewels gone,

Ere the last snow-drift melts, your tender buds are blown.

2. Fringed with color, faintly,
Like the morning sky,

Or, more pale and saintly,

Wrapped in leaves ye lie,

Even as children sleep in faith's simplicity.

3. There the wild wood-robin

Hymns your solitude;

And the rain comes sobbing

Through the budding wood,

While the low south wind sighs, but dare not be more rude.

4. Were your pure lips fashioned

Out of air and dew,

Starlight unimpassioned,

Dawn's most tender hue,

And scented by the woods that gathered sweets for you?

5. Fairest and most lonely,

From the world apart;

Made for beauty only,

Veiled from Nature's heart

With such unconscious grace as wakes the dream of Art!

6. Were not mortal sorrow

An immortal shade,

Then would I to-morrow

Such a flower be made,

And live in the dear woods, where my lost childhood played.

ROSE TERRY COOKE.

A

LXXXVI.-GASPARD AND ARNOLD.

FINE day was dawning. The lower country was lying in deep shade and rest, but the world of the Alps, that world of wonders, was slowly awaking to life. The fir forests were murmuring in the morning breeze, the torrents were roaring in their rocky beds, and the pastures were streaked with the rays of the rising sun. The mountain herdsmen were beginning their daily task; their horn was waking the mountain echo, and their herds, pricking their ears at the well-known sound, were careering, gayly, to the stable to be milked.

2. At this moment two huntsmen, of active, muscular build, were climbing up from the lower valley to follow the chamois over the upper snows. Toiling up the steep slopes, they whiled away the time, singing some Tyrolese songs, as their eyes plunged down into the lower world, lost in the mists of morning. Having at length reached the water-shed of the Schilthorn, they stopped; for it was here they had to separate, and carry on their dangerous trade among the awful solitudes of the Alps. They shook hands; then, each taking a different path, tramped away to the higher regions.

3. Gaspard directed his steps to the Rosein, whose snowy cone reaches the clouds and braves the tempest, while a mountain stream, rising near at hand, rushes away beneath its feet, fretting and foaming among the rocks, over which it plunges in angry tide.

Arnold Brenner scaled the granite walls of the Martin's Loch, approaching a place where the Todi raises its awful crest of snow, shining like a diamond crown, whilst its icy shoulders, covered with glaciers, shone like burnished silver in the bright morning sun.

4. Brenner looked about, searchingly, but saw no

game. His forehead began to show symptoms of ill humor, when he descried a splendid chamois running to feed on a high rocky promontory at hand. Arnold's heart beat joyously. Hiding behind a rock, he fired, and the animal fell. Uttering a subdued shout, he darted, with a hunter's bound, to seize his prey. But he came too late; the chamois rose from the ground, covered with blood, and, appearing endowed with increased vigor, flew away, making desperate leaps.

5. "The charge was not heavy enough," thought Arnold, biting his lips; "but the sofry beast shall not escape me."

Then, over the snow and over the ice, and along the giddiest paths, over the most slippery rocks, on he went, in hot haste and with stubborn resolution, after the fugitive chamois. The unhappy animal, fast losing blood, and getting weaker and weaker, did not, however, slacken its pace.

6. In the ardent pursuit, both reached a place never before trod by the foot of man or beast: The huntsman followed rocky cornices and chinks, presenting nothing but a feeble growth of lichens. At last, reaching the end of a gorge, he came to a place where he could neither turn nor stay. His only escape was by a leap to a ledge about as long and broad as his hand. Without even taking the time to reflect, he leaped and hit just upon the ledge, so as to keep his footing.

7. His next emotion was one of horror. He could neither go forward nor backward, nor change his posture. In front of him, the bare perpendicular rock barred all progress; and, below, the dreadful abyss yawned, ready to receive its victim. Though a very stout-hearted man, Arnold shuddered from head to foot, when he saw his position. He commended his soul to God, for he could hope for nothing from man. Who would ever know of his dreadful situation?