played, for fear of the consequences-so that honour was left to the foreigners.

I inquired who he was. No one knew.

"Where does he come from?" said I to a fat old German, who had

smoked away nearly all his intellects, and was then engaged in completing the work.

"Ah, nobody knows."

"Where does he go then when he leaves this?"

"Nobody can tell."

"Why does not somebody follow him and see." "Why don't you?" said he, pithily.

"So I will to-morrow," said I.

"If you do, then farewell!" said he, staring at me. "Nonsense!" said I. "What do I care for hin ?"

The morrow came, and with it two o'clock, and with that the stranger, who went through his daily ceremony. When he moved, I moved after him. I kept a short distance behind, and observed many people watching me, for the old German had mentioned my purpose. The stranger passed through the crowd, and took the direct road to the village of Lichenthal. I kept in the rear. On he went, never stopping for an instant, or turning his head right or left, and a most slapping pace he walked; so much so, that I began to fear he would outstrip me. He soon reached the brewery, (any one who has been to Baden, knows the Lichenthal brewery,) where, as is the custom with many who frequent that beautiful village, he called for a bottle of beer, for which that place is rather celebrated. I did the same. He did not appear to regard me, or even know I was there. Several Germans, who were sitting about smoking and quaffing their glasses of the beverage, recognised him, and immediately made off, leaving their beer for the good of the house. We were thus left together. After a sip or two, I ventured to address him.

"Capital beer this," said I, in English; "the best I ever tasted in Germany."

No answer. I tried French-no answer. Then German-no reply. Italian-still no response. I had now exhausted my treasury of languages, and felt at a loss. However, I made a desperate attempt in Latin-the same result.

"Well," thought I," he is very surly. I will try what a little religion will do, and if he is 'no better than he should be,' he will show some symptoms."

So in all the tongues above mentioned I repeated a verse or two from the Bible, fully expecting to see him vanish. But no, the notice he

It sticks in his But it was of no by, he seemed to

took of it was by taking a hearty pull at the beer. throat, thought I. I will give him some more of it. avail; and after finishing his bottle, which, by the relish wonderfully, he rose and walked off. I was not long before I followed, for I was determined to see where he went. He took a short cut to the foot of the mountain behind the brewery, I following at a respectful distance. We were soon in a very retired part, and as I went steadily on, he, unperceived by me, slackened his pace, so that I came up close behind him when he turned sharply round, and said in plain downright English, "What the devil are you dogging me for?"

at the same time presenting me with a most decidedly English blow between the eyes, with a very English fist, which instantly had the effect of causing my oculars to emit sparks enough to blow up all the magazines in the world (except this), and tumbling me over and over.

I was so astonished, and so completely taken aback, that I was some moments recovering, and righting myself. When this was effected my new acquaintance was nowhere to be seen, so with a very blue countenance, and a very black bruise, I remained wandering about, not venturing to enter the town until dusk, as I did not wish the Badenites to see the result of my expedition. The next day, of course, I did not stir out, but remained within, bathing my face with all sorts of restoratives. This gave rise to a very grand story, which ran through the town like wildfire, nor lost by repetition, that I had been carried away by the devil in a flame of fire.

However, the day after I walked out, and was soon surrounded by a parcel of people, all anxious to know the issue of my travels. I professed to be very mysterious, and answered their thousand and one questions by assuring them that the stranger was no other than his Satanic majesty, or at least his plenipotentiary. At two o'clock I took my place at the tables not at all daunted, wishing to see whether my friend would recognise me. This day, in consequence of my recital, greater respect than ever was paid to him, and he had the table nearly all to himself. He played, and his money was handed to him. deed the croupiers had got so accustomed to him that they had the amount he was sure to win ready counted. When he took up his heap of gold he cast his eyes round the company, and seeing me, slightly smiled, to which courteous salutation I politely bowed. But I did not venture to follow him again-instinct forbade it.

In

About a week passed over, with the usual routine, when one day I proposed to myself a solitary walk over some parts of the mountain which had hitherto remained unexplored by me, and intending to make a day of it, I put on my pedestrian suit, and provided myself well with all the necessaries of existence. Much pleased with my tour, I pursued it farther than I had originally intended, and having dined and taken a nap on the grass, I found it getting dusk. This rather alarmed me, for I did not know exactly where I was, and though not afraid of meeting any thing unpleasant, still I did not like the idea of promenading a mountain all night.

But inactivity was out of the question, so shaking off all idleness, I started away, following my nose. There was no path to guide me, but on listening I heard the tinkle of a bell in the distance, which I fancied must be that of the convent at Lichenthal, so I determined to pursue the guidance of my ear as well as my nose.

I had walked on thus for about a quarter of an hour, and still could find no clue to an escape, but, au contraire, seemed to be getting more entangled, when, on turning round rather a sudden angle, I stood in front of a rude kind of cottage, evidently built without much regard to strict architecture. I gazed at it for a few moments, but could see no signs of an inhabitant; but I thought whether there is or not, there can be no harm in trying, and if I am to sleep on the mountain, it will be much better for my constitution to do so under the roof a cottage, than sub tegmine fagi.

So I brought the top of my walkingstick in immediate contact with the door-no answer. Again I thundered away, and hundreds of echces through the mountains was all the reply I could get. I then thought it advisable to take the liberty of peeping in at the window, and turned for that purpose, when I nearly lost my equilibrium by seeing two most glaring eyes-such a pair I never saw-beaming most ferociously upon me from within,--nor was I long in recognising the owner-my friend of the pugilistic turn; but my courage instantly came back, so I determined to ask him civilly, either to give me a night's lodging, or show me the way home. With this idea I knocked again at the door. It flew open with a spring, but no one stood on the threshold, either to invite or oppose my entrance, so in I marched.

There was my friend quietly airing his coat-tails at the fire. Never have I seen such a man-tall, handsome, and most powerfully built, and such eyes as he had baffle all description, and now that they flashed in anger on me-I thought his cottage was in imminent danger of ignition.

"I have lost my way," said I, in rather a shaky tone, "and I do not know where I am.'

"And what is that to me?" said he.

"A great deal," said I, rather annoyed at his impertinence. "I am a fellow-creature in distress."

"No fellow-creature of mine," was the reply.

"Then what are you?" said I.

"I am he who thought he had given sufficient lessons to those who are over curious."

I now thought I would make an attempt at a joke, to see what that would do for me.

"Ah!" said I, "a pretty pair of black eyes you gave me—a lesson in boxing I shall not soon forget."

"That is nothing to what is in store for you now," said he.

Here was a dilemma-completely at the mercy of a man three times my caliber, consoling me, far removed from all help, with such a pro

mise.

"Well," said I, "what are you going to do to me?"

"Treat you as you deserve," said he.

"How is that?" said I, in rather a funky voice.

"Ask no questions-you will soon see.'

He stepped aside, and touched with his foot a small

peg,

which rose

from the floor, and instantly a trap-door opened, and in pantomimic fashion up came a table laid with supper for one.

Of course I thought this was for me, and that he was not such a bad fellow after all; but no-he quietly sat down to the repast, cleared every thing before him (I never saw a man eat with such an appetite), and did not ask me to partake of a morsel of meat or a cup of wine.

I now saw that he meditated something dreadful, and resolved to do the same, so I grasped my stick very tightly, slipping the head downwards, which was loaded, and made up my mind that the moment he turned and gave me the opportunity, I would bring it down on his nob with all my force, hoping thus to render him senseless, and then make

my escape.

During the supper he had not said a word, although I had been talking incessantly, after he had demolished every thing, he stepped again to the spring, and down went the table, and the trap-door closed. "Now then," thought I, "my time is at hand-I either die or escape."

So when he turned again I swung my stick round with all my might, and brought nob to nob in the most approved Tipperary fashion. But I might have spared myself the trouble, for he did not seem to be aware that I had hit him at all.

Now of course there was no doubt in my mind as to his identity. He then took down a pipe which he smoked in solemn silence, which being finished, he said,

"Now I am going to bed, and as I never can sleep if a stranger is in the neighbourhood, I must despatch you."

On hearing this I made a rush towards the door, intending to have a run for it, but he did not move after me; on the contrary, sat still, laughing at my futile attempts to open the door. I could see neither locks, nor bars, nor bolts, yet could not move it. I then placed my back against it, resolved to sell my life dearly. When he had put up his pipe he advanced towards me.

Now," said I, calmly, " if you respect your life respect mine, for I have a strong arm, and I mean to use it on this occasion very vigorously."

"You tried that just now, you know, but it was of no use, so come quietly."

And having said this, he took hold of the collar of my coat. Bang, bang, went my stick across his face, but I might just as well have hit a rock. He had now pulled me to the centre of the room, but he evidently found me stronger than he had anticipated, for the struggle of a man who does it for his life is rather stronger than ordinary. However, he soon got the advantage over me, and taking me in his arms, he carried me outside the house through a door at the back, and holding me up, I saw by the light of a brilliant harvest-moon, that I overhung a precipice, below which I heard the gurgling of a river (which glistened in the moonbeams) as if it had been a mile off-so you may judge of the depth.

"This is the way I serve all intruders on my privacy," said he. "Good night!"

And letting me drop as if I had been a large stone, I went bump, bump, bump, first on one jutting rock, then bounding off to another, until at last, after about half an hour's bumping, I found myself floundering about the floor of my bedroom, having tumbled out of a very high bed, in which I had been placed by some kind friend, after supping, for the first time, at the "Free and Easy Club," into which honourable society I had been that evening enrolled.

R. H. W.

KEEPING SECRETS.

BY LAMAN BLANCHARD, ESQ.

-Break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.

SHAKSPEARE.

CHARLES GLIB has one peculiarity that distinguishes him from every other bustling chattering inhabitant of this blabbing world. In the course of a pretty long life he has never been known to reveal a single secret-for nobody ever trusted him with one.

He is the very opposite of that celebrated lover of taciturnity, who having walked twenty miles with an equally silent companion, not a syllable having escaped the lips of either, exclaimed, in acknowledgment of his friend's observation, on arriving at a cross-road, that the left would be the best path to take,

"Heavens! what a talkative fellow you are!"

Glib is, to an equal degree, a lover of loquacity. The sound of his own voice is to him the music of the spheres. Other people have their fits of sullenness and reserve-he never has. Other people pause to take breath, which he never does. Other people like to chatter away only on their favourite themes-their own rheumatics, or their neighbour's extravagance-but no topic ever came amiss to Charley Glib. He never sinks into taciturnity, merely because he happens to have exhausted all the scandal of the neighbourhood, and trumpeted his own Such silence is perfections of mind and body in fifty different keys. simply the natural consequence of over-talking to which ordinary folks are liable; but as for Glib, he still goes on, still finds something to say, even when he has torn his grandmother's reputation to tatters, and related the history, with all the minutest particulars, of his last cold in the head. While there are words to be uttered, a subject is never wanting. The words bring the thoughts, or he talks without them. He is nothing if not loquacious-he associates death with silence. To talk is to enjoy the original bird of paradise was, in his judgment, the Talking bird, and should be so described by every ornithologist.

As there is good in every thing, there is convenience in this clack, for it puts us on our guard, and warns us to keep our secrets to ourselves. One would as soon think of pouring wine into a sieve, as of intrusting precious tidings to his keeping. Whatever is published at Charingcross, or advertised in the morning papers, there can be no harm in communicating to Glib; but for any thing of a more confidential character, it would be just as wise to whisper it to the four winds of heaven.

A secret indeed is a pearl which it were egregious folly to cast before such an animal. Secrets are utterly wasted upon your great, loud, constant, unthinking talkers. They are delicacies never truly relished by people of large appetites for speech, who can utter any thing, and who fare sumptuously on immense heaps of stale news of the coarsest Their palates are vitiated by vast indulgence, and their ravenous hunger after the joys of holding forth, forbids the possibility of

nature.