ANCIENT NEEDLEWORK. This curtain is elsewhere more particularly described as being of linen entirely, on which the most skilful of the Hebrew ladies embroidered cherubim with scarlet, purple, light blue, and gold thread. It is very possible that the work was of the kind we now call appliqué, and the colored figures daintily embroidered with the gold thread, which was solid bullion beaten out so fine that it could be even woven. The women had devoted their bracelets and other gold ornaments to the purpose, and every one who had cloth of the beautiful dyes named also made an offering of it. Besides this "all the women that were wise-hearted did spin with their hands, and brought that which they had spun, both of blue, and of purple, and of scarlet, and of fine linen. And all the women whose hearts stirred them up in wisdom spun goats' hair.” The linen embroidered made the inner covering of the temple. The spun goats' hair was the second covering, and above were skins, such as the Arabs still use for their tents. Solomon echoes the words of Moses when the latter says that "all the women that were wise-hearted did spin with their hands." We have not yet in all these lengthened centuries been able to improve on the wisdom of Solomon, who held his special gift of God. And this is Solomon's sketch of a good woman; "Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil. She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life. She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands. She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff. She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet. She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple. She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant. She looketh well to her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness." This is the description of a rich woman. She wore purple and silk, the latter commodity so dear that we presume the purple must have been merely silk embroidered. Heliogabalus was the first man, history tells us, who wore a dress entirely of silk, and the Emperor Aurelian refused one to his wife on account of its cost. Leather and quill embroidery are thought to be the oldest kinds of needlework, and are still executed by the Chinese, American Indians, and the Tyrolese. The natives of the Sandwich Islands formed their chief dresses of quill embroidery. Embroidery with thread or silk is said to have been invented by Attalus, King of the Phrygians, and the name of Phrygian became synonymous with "an embroiderer." The first style of embroidery was flat; one of the most frequent stitches a waved line made by a succession of stitches, and one wave close upon another, so that a blank space could be covered. The waves were affected by little stitches across the centre of the others. The practice of embroidery is said to have given the first notion of architecture to the Assyrians, and with the Indians and Chinese to have preceded weaving, knitting and painting. This kind of embroidery-the stitch we have described, known as flame stitch, and another stitch, a straight flat one-was used by the Chaldeans, Assyrians, Phoenicians, Indians, Chinese, and Persians. The most ancient Chaldeo-Assyrian bas-relievos represent draperies thus worked with the needle; the Egyptian delineations, on the contrary, are evidence of the custom of working cross-stitch. The origin of weaving was first the plaiting of mats as body coverings, and next the interlacing of boughs and wattles to form fences and huts. Soon from this sprang the idea of interlacing threads. The Carthaginians are mentioned as famous for the construction of nets; the Assyrian warriors wore trousers of crochet, and knotting was known to the Egyptians. The latter also made linen lace, which we shall describe presently; it is believed to be the only kind known to the ancients, laces made of thread, either with the needle or the bobbin, being the invention of the middle ages. History ascribes to the Egyptians the honor of first raising needlework to an art; in spinning they were such adepts that some of their linen was so fine as to be called "woven air." They wove nets so fine that one would pass through a finger ring, and one man could carry nets enough to encompass a whole wood. Amasis, an Egyptian king, had a corslet of linen, every thread of which was composed of 365 fibres, and another, nearly as fine, richly embroidered with gold. Linen, both interwoven and profusely embroidered with gold, was a favorite article with the Egyptians for garments, scarfs, sails, and handkerchiefs. The gold thread was made of the pure metal beaten out to an exquisite degree of fineness and subtilty. It is a curious fact that although linen was so much used by the Egyptians and Romans and Greeks, it was almost unknown in the middle ages, when linsey-woolsey was used next the skin for undergarments, and a degree of uncleanliness prevailed unknown to the bath-loving ancients. The Egyptian ladies executed a good deal of "church work," as they would have called it had they known our modern language, in the way of costly robes for the idols. The ladies' over-dresses also were very gay, partaking of the nature of chintzes; the inferior ones were merely stamped, the richer kind interwoven with gold threads, and the most costly of all hand-embroidered with the precious material. It was also the fashion amongst this luxurious people of the Nile to embroider the sails of their pleasure-boats. Some were wrought in gold on white linen ground; these were checked or striped in colors, and afterwards embroidered; not a few were painted; others again-notably those used in religious ceremonies-had gold embroidered borders, and were otherwise simply white. The Egyptians carried on a considerable trade in embroidered sails, and indeed all kinds of embroidery, for which they were cele 183 brated. We may verify this fact by reference to Scripture, where Ezekiel, addressing the Tyrians, says: "Fine linen with broidered work from Egypt was that which thou spreadest forth to be thy sail." (Ezekiel xxvii. 7.) Chairs and ottomans also bore coverings of fancy needlework done by these ancient ladies with colored wools or gold; and embroidering handkerchiefs, which were frequently interchanged as tokens of friendship, was also a favorite recreation. Some of our readers may be acquainted with a curious kind of insertion work familiar to our great-grandmothers, and partially revived amongst us recently, which is executed by drawing the threads one way from linen, and forming stitches by sewing over the remaining single ones, and they will perhaps be surprised to learn that this also was an Egyptian amusement. The Greeks and Romans held needlework and all domestic duties in great esteem, and the implements pertaining to such matters were always borne in solemn procession before the bride at marriage ceremonies. They had a fable amongst them that Minerva, the goddess of wisdom, invented and first taught women the arts of spinning, weaving, and needlework. The ladies of classic memory, or at least the handmaidens, worked not only at spinning, but at the loom, forming tapestries with large pictures on them. How much the mistress did was, of course, then as now, optional with herself, but she took care that her female dependants should not be idle. Thus were histories of battles and heroic deeds celebrated. Homer pictures Andromache making a handkerchief wrought on both sides with bright-colored flowers whilst Hector is away on the field of battle. A good share of needlework was appropriated to costume. The tunics of the Greeks were wont to be richly embroidered, and in the days of Roman luxury the toga bore similar emblazonments of feminine art. The simpler ornaments of Roman and Greek dresses were bands of different colored materials sewn on in numbers varying from one to seven, either plain or in devices. The luxury of the toilette, however, soon increased till we read of men, women, and children of the wealthy classes wearing dresses covered with embroidered trees, dogs, lions, panthers, flowers, human beings, etc. Amongst the Christians, subjects from sacred history were used. The Greek and Roman ladies also dedicated rich garments of needlework to their idols; and there is a story told of a beautiful peplum (a large mantle) hung up as an awning in the Temple of Minerva for five hundred years. It was covered with a variety of designs wrought in gay colors by the needle. The Babylonians and the Medes set great value on the embroidery work of women. The Persians, however, although they valued costly garments and indulged extravagantly in them, considered needlework derogatory to women-especially wool-work-and employed men and female slaves upon it, The Emperor Alexander unconsciously greatly insulted the mother of Darius, the Persian, by making her a present of some exquisitely embroidered robes, and telling her she might instruct her grandchildren to copy them. The offence, however, was removed when he explained that not only was needlework considered an honorable occupation in this country, but that his royal sisters had been at the pains to embroider those he had given her. JESSAMINE, Bright, radiant flowers! the winds are bending low The Eastern sky just shows a rosy blush; Of prescient perfume, sweetest at the dawn, And heavy shadows linger on the lawn? What would ye tell me? Mingle in my dreams; About the ivory gate of sleep, and make Day is so near: the rosy streaks stretch wide; Adown the rift one little lazy cloud, Losing its way, strays like a wandering sheep; Sweet jessamine, ere scorching grows the South, THE FALLS OF THE ZAMBESI. THE FALLS OF THE ZAMBESI. The interest which has recently been reawakened in Dr. Livingstone's explorations, first by his reported death, and then by his discovery by Stanley, lead us to review with pleasure the geographical knowledge for which we are indebted to him. Through his energy and perseverance alone Southern Africa is no longer marked upon the map as an "unexplored region." True, a few other travellers have added something to the knowledge gained by him; but they have for the most part only followed in his footsteps and corroborated his statements. Though the Zambesi river was not unknown to the Portuguese, who held possession of the western coast of Africa and had roughly explored it, its location on their maps was far from being correct. On these maps, it was represented as rising and flowing several degrees to the eastward of its actual source and course. Dr. Livingstone was the first white man to visit it in the interior, and to locate it accurately. Dr. Livingstone first visited it in June, at the end of the dry season, at a time when its natural proportions were much shrunken. But he found it a magnificent stream, with a breadth of from three hundred to six hundred yards of deep-flowing water. When its volume is increased by the rains of the wet season, it rises twenty feet in perpendicular height, and, like the Nile, inundates the country for fifteen or twenty miles in breadth along its banks. This first visit of Livingstone to the Zambesi river was made in 1851. It was not until 1855 that he discovered and explored the Victoria falls, completing his explorations and observations in 1860, he being the first European who had ever beheld them. In 1851, when two hundred miles distant, he heard of their fame, and was asked by the natives, "Have you any smoke-soundings in your country" and "What causes the smoke to rise forever so high out of the water." The native name for these falls is Mosi-oa-tunya, meaning "smoke does sound there." And this name, with its meaning, describes one of the most peculiar characteristics of the falls. From the abyss of the falls immense columns of steam arise from two hundred to three hundred feet in height until their tops seem to mingle with the clouds. These vapor-columns grow dark in tint as they ascend, and bear a strong resemblance to smoke. When the morning sun shines upon them they glow with double and treble rainbows. In the evening the light "from a hot, yellow sky," imparts a sulphurous hue, and gives the impression that the yawning gulf might resemble the mouth of the bottomless pit. These huge columns of vapor may be seen upwards of twenty miles distant. The Falls of the Zambesi, or Victoria Falls, as Livingstone calls them, have been formed by a crack or fissure in the hard, black, basaltic rock at right angles across the bed of the river. The old bed below the falls is still plainly indicated, and green with grass and trees. The chasm which extends along the entire front of the falls, and into which the water leaps, is about two hundred and fifty feet in width at its narrowest point, and three hundred and sixty feet in depth, to the surface of the boiling and foaming water. The falls, during the dry season, are nearly a mile in extent, their line broken here and there by rocks and islands. In the wet season, their length is increased half a mile or more, and then the volume of water which pours over the falls is immense. The water on the west side of the falls, as it descends into the chasm, is collected in a narrow channel twenty or thirty yards wide, and flows toward the east at a right angle with the course of the stream above the falls. That on the east side flows through a similarly narrow channel toward the west. These two streams meet and unite in a fearful boiling whirlpool, before they find an outlet through a fissure of the rock at right angles with that of the fall, at about eleven hundred and seventy yards from the western end of the chasm, and six hundred from the eastern end. The Zambesi, which spread to such a breadth above the falls, is now compressed in a channel not more than twenty or thirty yards in width, and of no doubt almost inconceivable depth. The surface of the country is of the same level below the fall as above it, and the river continues on its course through a deep cañon, continually taking abrupt turns in its way-in fact forming a series of connected and perfectly defined letter S.'s. This cañon is not worn or cut by the action of the water. It is a split or crack in the rock. Its walls go sheer down, "without any projecting crag or symptom of stratification or dislocation." The immense steam-columns which continually ascend above the falls become condensed at an immense height, and descend in a perpetual shower of fine rain, which, beating against the face of the perpendicular rock, runs down in tiny streams, only to be swept back again by the upward-rushing vapor before they have reached the bottom. This rain gives life and verdancy to the evergreen groves, in whose branches, however, no bird ever sings or builds its nest. The scene in the neighborhood of the falls is beautiful in the extreme. The country is covered with a rich tropical vegetation, kept green and luxuriant from the showers of rain descending from the swaying volumes of vapor which ascend from the falls. Forests of evergreens line the banks of the river; lofty pines wave their feathery heads here and there; trees resembling, in general form and appearance, the chestnut and the elm, are seen; and flowers are abundant and beautiful. Like Niagara, the Victoria falls lack only the charm of a mountainous background. At low water it is possible for a canoe to be skillfuly steered down through the rapids above the falls to Garden Island, one of the islands which rests upon the edge of the precipice, and, like Goat Island at Niagara, divides the fall of water. In fact, it was in this manner that Dr. Livingstone first approached the falls and took his primary view of them. Reaching Garden Island, he leaned over the edge of the precipice and peered into the abyss below, in which the water was seething and boiling, and measured its depth with a line and plummet. In the wet season this feat is impossible, for then the Zambesi sweeps, a dark and turbulent stream, a mile and a half in width, with such impetuosity, that to venture upon its bosom in the neighborhood of the falls would be madness. If one attempted it during the period of flood, and by any fortunate accident succeeded in reaching the island, then he would have to remain until the water subsided in the dry season; for it would be equally impossible for him to reach the main shore or for assistance to be sent him from it. CRACKED WHEAT. I noticed recently, in your "Answers to Correspondents," a reply to some inquiries about cracked wheat. It reminded me of my own experience in that line, and as othersseem to meet with difficulties similar to those I have overcome, perhaps some account of it may be of use. If it be true, as you say, that "cracked wheat can be bought in any large flour and grain store," still this source is scarcely available in the country, or even in many considerable towns. I think, then, that, in a general way, we may call this the first difficulty, to get the cracked wheat, or coarse wheat meal. My second difficulty has been to have the meal fresh and sweet, with the taste of the grain in it. Under ordinary circumstances, it very soon loses these qualities after being ground. There would seem to be a delicacy, or at any rate a liability to deterioration, in that part of the grain taken out by bolting that does not belong to white flour, a fact that I shall presently have occasion to refer to again. I attempted to obviate this second difficulty by getting a miller to grind for me a small portion at a time, but, not to speak of the inconvenience that in most cases would attend the getting of it in this way, very frequently I found it always more or less gritty. It is well known that mill-stones wear away, and it seems reasonable to suppose that when the grain runs through a wider space, so as to be only cracked or ground coarse, it will be likely to take with it larger pieces of stone than would escape in grinding fine flour. I then ordered, from another city, some "crushed wheat," said to be prepared by passing the grain between "steel rollers:" but this process of crushing seemed to me to produce an article inferior to the cracked wheat, and, besides, difficulty number two returned in full force: it was not fresh and sweet, and in a short time worms were found in the packages. In your answer to a correspondent, already referred to, you suggest the use of a coffee-mill; but this will, I fear, be found a tedious process for any considerable quantity, and especially if anything should be attempted beyond merely cracking the wheat; and this brings up the third difficulty. This article of diet seems to be particularly adapted to the breakfast, of which meal it is with us literally the main-stay. But you say, "boil it slowly for about five hours," referring, of course, to wheat merely cracked. At what hour, under this direction, should we get our breakfast? I tried boiling it the day before, and heating up for breakfast. It was decidedly inferior to the fresh-cooked. I then tried soaking over night in cold water, but with the same or a similar result. I attribute the failure of both these methods to the delicacy, or susceptibility to injury, of brown or unbolted meal, hereinbefore mentioned. These, then, are the three chief difficulties I have encountered: First, to get the meal; second, to have it always fresh and sweet; and third, to get it properly cooked in time for breakfast; and I have surmounted them all satisfactorily by the method and means here following: I bought a small hand-mill, mounted it on a strong oak frame, such as are commonly to be found at seed and agricultural implement stores. There are different kinds: mine is Swift's, No. 3-a very excellent mill, which in this part of the country has, I am told, the highest repute. The grinders are chilled iron, and can make no grittings. If the hopper is filled with the whole grain, it turns too hard. I take a shallow vessel (the pan of a small weighing-scale is first-rate for the purpose) in the left hand, and feed into the hopper slowly resting the hand at the same time on the edge of the hopper for support. In this way you can regulate the supply, and moderate at will the turning force required. I have found it most satisfactory to run it through first very coarse, just cracking the grains; it may then be poured into the hopper, the mill set finer, and run through again. This makes it more even. I have sometimes run it through three times. I know of no advantage from having it very coarse, except its retaining its sweetness better, and with a mill like mine you can have it fresh every week, or as much oftener as you choose. I can prepare in ten minutes enough to last two of us a week. To clean the wheat, take a coarse sieve with meshes just large enough to hold the full wheat, while the dirt, seeds and imperfect grains rattle through. Any light dirt rising on the surface may be picked off with the fingers. I should fear that washing it, as you recommend, might injure its quality. This subject is not new to me. I very well remember hearing Doctor Graham (from whom our bread is named) lecture in the city of New York, as far back as 1831-'2. But having only within the last two or three years hit upon a plan for securing, with little trouble, a perpetual supply of good, fresh_wheat-meal that may be cooked in from half an hour to an hour, I am desirous that others may be made acquainted with it, so that they may adopt it if they see fit. AN AMATEUR MILLER. BANYAN-TREES. THE most celebrated of these trees is on an island in the Nerbudda; its stems occupy a circumference of 2,000 feet, the area covered by its branches being much greater. The shade from the sun afforded by this large-spread tent is most grateful to the traveller on the hot dusty plains, and many groups of old and young may be found at once resting or gambolling under its branches. Birdsime is prepared from the tenacious milky juice which abounds in every part of the tree. Birds, especially pigeons and paroquets, eat the fruit greedily, and with squirrels and monkeys, which also delight to resort to the deep shade, make the old tree seem alive with their lively and rapid motions. At night it is often lit up with myriads of fire-flies. The banyan-tree, as well as its congener the peepul (F. religiosa), is regarded with veneration by the Buddhists in Ceylon, and by the Hindoos in India, and these trees are often found giving shelter to their temples. The following notice of a wellknown specimen of this remarkable tree is recorded by the director of the Royal Gardens at Kew, near London. In the Botanical Gardens at Calcutta, the great banyan-tree, which is still the pride and ornament of the garden, Dr. Falconer satisfactorily ascertained to be only seventy-five years old. Annual rings, size, etc., afford no evidence in such a case, but people were alive a few years ago who remember well its site being occupied in 1782 by a kujoor (datepalm), out of crown the banyan sprouted, and beneath which a fakir sat. It is a remarkable fact that the banyan hardly ever vegetates on the ground; but its figs are eaten by birds, and the seeds deposited in the crowns of palms, where they grow, sending down roots that embrace and eventually kill the palm, which decays away. This tree is now 80 feet high, and throws an area 300 feet in diameter into a dark, cool shade. Had this tree been growing in 1849 over the great palm-stove at Kew, only 30 feet of each end of that vast structure would have been uncovered; its increase was proceeding so rapidly, that by this time it could probably cover the whole. Larger banyans are common in India; but few are so symmetrical in shape and height. As the banyan-tree gets old, it breaks up into separate masses, the original trunk decaying, and the props becoming separate trunks of the different portions. HE that has delivered his country from oppression, or freed the world from ignorance or error, can excite the emulation of a very small number; but he that has repelled the temptations of poverty, and disdained to free himself from distress at the expense of his virtue, may animate multitudes by his example to the same firmness of heart and steadiness of resolution.-Johnson. BY THE SAD SEA WAVES. BY THE SAD SEA WAVES. BY O. S. ADAMS. "YES, Alf., the waves have always to me a sad, uncertain sound." "Don't be soft, Tom." "But I tell you it is true. Just listen, now, to the murmur of the surf. It rushes and recedes like the coming and going of memories which one would "Bosh!" "There's no bosh about it. I am in earnest. The restless sea always breathes in my ears a tale in which bitter disappointment is mingled with longing regret for something swallowed up in the irrevocable past!" "Oh, come now, Tom, you sicken me. You'd better turn poet, and pour out the surgings of your soul on paper. I am sure you would be a success, at least in the eyes of love-sick girls." "No, no! Alf., you are sarcastic. You misunderstand me. I could tell you a sad tale that would cause you to listen indulgently to such rhapsodizings as you now profess to be disgusted with." "Indeed!" 187 ward and seized the reins close to the bits. I clung with an ironlike grip, and lifted myself up from the ground to avoid being trampled upon, as well as to bring a dead weight on the horses' heads. Fortunately, my grasp was a sure one, and I was able to retain my hold firmly. The animals were obliged to succumb, and soon stopped, panting and reeking with perspiration. "The driver, as soon as he could, sprang from his seat, and came to my relief. He began to pour out profuse thanks, but I, not heeding him, ran around to the side of the carriage. I was out of breath, and somewhat blinded with dust, but unhurt. Irene sat upright, clinging to the seat, with a wildness in her eyes, and a frightened flush on her cheeks, that made her dazzlingly beautiful. As soon, however, as she realized that the danger was past, the color fled from her face, and she sank back, almost over come. "Thank heaven! you are safe,' I ejaculated. "Thank you also,' she said, in trembling accents. 'Oh, it was fearful! How brave and prompt you were!' "She gave me a melting look that penetrated to the very marrow of my bones. "Don't speak of that,' I said. 'It is enough for me to know that you are unhurt. "Is it, indeed?" she said, in a sort of shy surprise. "Your safety would repay us for a dozen broken bones,' I rejoined, with fervor, ‘let alone this slight sprinkling of dust. What caused the horses to run away?' "I cannot imagine. They are spirited, but seldom fractious. enough to you.' "And not interrupt me with any of your discordant, unfeeling Something must have frightened them. I can never feel grateful comments?" No." "All right; I'll tell it then." And thereupon Tom Blanchard related to my curious ears the following account of a hitherto unrevealed episode in his life. "It was two years ago. I was sojourning for the summer by the sea-side, and occupied comfortable quarters in the 'Spray House.' The season was gay. Beautiful girls, resplendent in all the decorations of the fashion-artists; watchful, wary, gorgeous mothers; eager, restless young bucks, like myself, with a sprinkling of fathers, who oscillated between the attractions of the place and the stern demands of business,--these were the principal elements of the throng that made glad the landlord of the Spray House. "You can readily imagine that I was not backward in participating in the pleasures of the place. I had plenty of money, and 'went in on my nerve,' as the boys say. Oh, it was a grand carnival of flirting! Hearts were toyed with, smiles were flung about, and glances shot at willing targets with a luxurious looseness. The mad frolics of those in whom nonsense held prime sway made lively work for the anxious matrons, whose grip on the reins was only too infantile in its weakness. "One day there was a new arrival. A woman with eyes like the reflection of the midnight moon in still water, hair spun from gathered darkness, a round, soft, perfectly-shaped face, complexion of alabaster whiteness, with cheeks of warmest crimson-an indescribable air which was irresistibly fascinating. Ah, words can convey but a faint, tame, insufficient picture of Irene Vance! "She at once created a sensation, and there was a regular stampede of young fellows seeking introductions to her. She received the homage that was showered upon her very quietly and coolly, treating all with an easy grace that, to those who wished to approach her beyond a certain point of polite cordiality, was fairly maddening. She was an orphan, so it came to be understood, and rumor said she was possessor of a snug fortune in her own right. She was accompanied by an aunt, an elderly, respectable, matronly-looking woman, who said but little, but who, I more than once noticed, had a very sharp, observant eye. This, however, was as it should be, I thought, for Irene was besieged with attentions, and it was well for her to be under the guardianship of one versed in the ways of the world. "I fell in love with her, as was to be expected, and did not endeavor to conceal my admiration. But she treated in a provokingly cool and unconscious manner the bestowal of any marked attention, which conduct of course only stimulated my desires." "She had her carriage, horses, and coachman, and it was not long before I discovered the particular drive she took each morning. Thenceforward I made it my business to walk daily to a point on the beach which I knew she would pass, and soon it became a part of each forenoon's programme for me to station myself on a certain rocky perch, and look up from my book to greet her as she passed. These morning greetings actually grew to be a part of my existence. For her smiles grew more free and cordial day by day, and threw me into an ecstasy that is always felt by one who imagines himself on a smooth course of true love. "One morning I occupied my accustomed position, and at the usual time discovered Irene's carriage approaching. Something, however, seemed to be wrong. The horses were coming at an unusual rate of speed, and the coachman was standing up in front of his seat, apparently using his utmost exertions to control them. "After a moment's anxious watching, I saw, with a thrill of horror, that the fiery steeds were running away. Irene was in danger! “Full of fright and distress, on her account, I rushed to the roadside. The horses came flying along at a mad speed, heeding not the energetic pulling on the reins by the driver, nor his frantic shouts at them. "My course was determined upon in an instant. I braced my nerves for a desperate struggle, and awaited the approach of the running team. They were soon close upon me, and I sprang for "Grateful! Please do not use that word. It is cold, as compared with my joy at seeing you unharmed.' "Is my safety, then, so much- She hesitated and blushed. "It is everything to me,' I said, earnestly. Are you not afraid to continue to ride, now?' "Oh, no! The horses, I think, will make no more trouble. James usually manages them with perfect ease. I think he must be slightly intoxicated this morning.' Then you must not think of intrusting yourself with him again! If you insist on finishing your ride, you will at least permit me to accompany you.' "If it will not be interrupting your morning siesta,' she said, hesitatingly, but, I imagined, with a wistful look. "I assured her that it would be a most charming interruption, and, waiting only long enough to brush some of the dust from my clothes, sprang into the carriage beside her. "When we were under way, I informed her that our daily greeting, as she passed my favorite resort on the beach, was a bright spot in each morning of my life. "She opened her eyes in innocent wonder, and expressed a doubt that such a little thing as that deserved such extravagant mention. "I assured her that it was not a little thing-that a kind look from her was a very great thing in my estimation. "She then suggested that I was given to flattery. "I disclaimed any such propensity with earnestness, and then she grew pensive and thoughtful. "After that we became more confidential, and talked in low tones. "Ah, that ride! I wished it might never come to an end! But it did, and after assisting her to alight and bidding her good morning, I walked about with a swelling exultation and buoyant joy that knew no bounds. After that I was with Irene much. We walked, and rode, and sat together, and occasionally had long, solitary, blissful interviews, that seemed to me like glimpses of some higher existence. "To be sure, my public attentions to her were little in excess of those she received from some others-she would show no preference that might cause remark. But if I was occasionally piqued at this, a walk in the moonlight, or a half hour's tête-a-tête in a solitary corner of the verandah, would set matters right, and elevate me to an exalted point of beatitude. And so my infatuation waxed stronger and approached its zenith. "One evening-I shall never forget it-Irene came to me in trouble. I was sitting on the verandah, taking my customary smoke, at an hour when most of the guests had fled to their rooms to make their evening toilettes. Suddenly I heard footsteps approaching, and the sound of voices engaged in hostile discussion. One voice was that of a man, and the other was Irene's. I was immediately all attention. "The two came nearer, and turning around a corner of the building, were in close proximity to me. "Well, James,' said Irene, 'you will have to quit my service immediately.' "Quit your sarvice, is it, mum!' said James, angrily. I recognized his voice as that of her coachman. 66 6 Yes, I cannot put up with your impudence and your bad habits any longer. Last night you were intoxicated again, and Here Irene abruptly ceased speaking, having observed me. James saw me also, but was in nowise abashed. Said he: And if a lad can't take a dhrop of the crater once in a while, where's his liberty gone? By the powers, mum, ye'd wish me to be as straight-laced as any praste or parson!' "He spoke with a tone and air of insolence. Irene looked at me in confused embarrassment, and yet appealingly. "I arose and greeted her, ignoring the presence of the coachman. But the latter was not to be rebuffed. He made some rough remark about receiving the amount due on his wages. |