Having been for some time thoroughly in VTflVe ff jtii the aforesaid winsome vision, Mon !ieur de Rias found it easy to fall in love Zj t j! Mademoiselle Fitzgerald, who seemed In bim i*3 most cbarming incarnation. She 1 ffß s ia trutll a very Pretty> graceful creature, ljtbeand supple, with the air of some wood avrnph scarcely tam °d > aQ(i glorious blue eyes beneath brown eyebrows. But it struck Li l '"nelthat the marble did not kindle at his I touch with the responsive quickness of his 1 _ ie ___s. Mademoiselle Marie's demeanor during dinner completed his mortification. gad he been the parish priest she could not We Bhown more indifference to his presence. She appeare<^ tranquil and absent-minded, chatting now and then with her cousin Louise jnacheerfal, quiet vein, and replying to Li ■ nnel's questions with careless courtesy. It was not long before the young lady's attitude alarmed the old Marchioness herself, x _ er ienced as she was in all the wiles of her sex. 0n leav*n § *^c table she t°°k her daughter-in-law aside. 'Louise, my dar ling' said she, ; all goes smoothly in one ouarter; Lionel is fascinated, plainly enough, bnt that little girl perplexes me. Try to find ont what she thinks—without showing your band, of course.' __ moment after the two young cousins W ere seen running and chasing one another like two school girls across the flower-beds which adorned the courtyard in front of the manor. All at once Madame de Lauris, halt ing quite ont of breath near one of the open windows, made her mother-in-law a sign. • Mamma,' she said, 'set your mind at ease. She hasn't said a word, bnt I feel sure she .-has guessed everything, and is taken with ! him, for she is kissing me every minute.' ' Meanwhile, however, the Paris train would 1 be due at 9 o'clock, and Lionel, being con strained, in order to carry out the programme, -,to set out that very evening, was preparing to return to the Pavilion, which was only ; some steps distant from the station. His i horse was brought to him in the courtyard. i It was a rather lively barb who performed a curvet or two and some coquettish tossings I of the head, sweeping the gravel with his I long crinkled mane. Strange to say, Ma demoiselle Marie appeared to know him, called :" him by bis name, Sahib, soothed him with "voice and hand, and regaled him with green leaves. She ended with bestowing on him I a big rose which she pulled with a laugh from I Madame de Lauris' belt. These attentions, grateful to the horse, were even * more so to his rider. (To he continued.)

Story of a Princely Boy.

Chaeies X., of France, when a child, ' was one day playing in an apartment f.of • the palace, while a peasant of rAuvergne was busily employed in scrubbing the floor. The latter, en couraged by the gayety and playfulness 1 0 f th e young Count, entered familiarly into conversation with him, and to amuse him, told him a number of diverting stories and anecdotes of his province. The prince, with all the ■ingenuousness of childhood, expressed his commiseration for the narrator's evident poverty, and for the labour which he was obliged to undergo in order to obtain a scanty livelihood. . 'Ah!' said the man, 'my poor wife "andfi?e children often go supperleas to bed.' 'Well, then,' replied the prince, with tears in his eyes, 'you must let me manage for you. My governor every month gives me some pocket • money, for which, after all, I have no occasion, since I want for nothing. You shall take this money and give it iito your wife and children; but be .sure not to mention a word of the /matter to a living soul, or you will be finely scolded.' On leaving the apartment, the hon est dependent acquainted the governor of the young Prince with the conver : sation that had taken place. The latter, after praising the servant highly for his scrupulous integrity, i desired him to accept the money, and to keep, the affair a profound secret, adding that he should have no cause to repent of his discretion. ■ 'At the end of the month, the Count d'Artois received his allowance as usual, and, watching the moment when he was unobserved, hastly slipped the whole sum into the hand of his protege. On t'ae same evening a child's lottery was proposed for the amusement of the young princes by the governor, who had purposely distributed among the prizes such objects as were most I likely to tempt a boy of the Count's age. , Each of his brothers eagerly hazarded his little store, but the Count d'Artois kept aloof from his favourite amusement. The governor,feigning astonishment, at last demanded the reason for his unusual prudence; still no answer came from the Count. One of the princes, his brother, next testified his surprise, and at length pressed the young Count so Wd that in a moment of childish impatience he exclaimed: 'This is all very well for you; but what would you do if, like me, you had awife and five children to support ?'

A Dead Man.

A RUSSIAN MATRIMONIAL STORY.

It was just before the opening of the rail way from Taganrog to Kbarkof, in 1869, and I was driving those dreary distances in Autumn. For the first two days and nights the weather was lovely, but on the third morning, soon after sunrise, the sky became covered with heavy, torn and jagged clouds, a northerly wind arose, and, with thunder, lightning, cold, gale and snow, the Winter burst on us as it yearly breaks on Southern Kussia. In half an hour the rich, black, rolling plains had become an ocean of inky mud, and we reached the post station of Donski only to find the order: 'Impossible to proceed.'

I called for tea and the samovar was brought in by a fine, upright, gray bearded man, whom, from his black velvet tunic and slashed sleeves, I took to be the Post-master himself. He was followed into the room by a noble-looking Cossack woman of his own age, who said : ' Little husband, why don't you ask the Lord if he will eat a partridge and a bit of bread ? The kurupatka is plump, and the day will be long before his troika can be harnessed to face the storm.' She smiled sweetly as she spoke—he smiled loviDgly on her ; then she left us, looking lingeringly back. ' Your wife's in love with you still, and you with her, Postmaster,' I said. ' You must have beaten her well when she was young for her to love you so. How long is it since you were married?'

'I am sixty,' he replied, ' I was married at twenty-five, thirty-five years ago ; five years before I died.'

' What ?' said I

' Five years before my death. Is it possible you don't know my story ? You must have come from a long way off, for I have heard that it is told even upon the Azof.'

And throwing his legs across the chair, without more ado he spoke thus:

' I was born in 1809, and can remember the return from Paris of my father and uncle—Cossacks of the Don. Those were grand days, when every Cossack was an officer by birth, and when the Hetman Platol was king of Europe, conqueror of the Turks and of the French, and friend and equal of the white Tsar. Now, this Petersburg Tsar says we're no better than his great Russian slaves, and for years my sabre and long pistol have hung upon, the wall unused ; and when I have worn my red-banded cap and my red striped breeches I've always hid as much as I could of the stripe in my boots, for I'm ashamed of it now, and they're even going to take away our privilege of the supply of salt.' 'In 1834, as a young postmaster, for my father was dead, with a good place and a handsome beard, I was the bes match in the two-church villages round. I could pick my wife, and I chose Olga that you saw ju3t now.'

'There?' sa.d I

'Ah, wait and see! Wait, little lord. Don't be impatient. Olga was as lovely as she was good. You have seen her in her sixtieth year; her goodnes is what it was, and, though I may be an unsafe judge, her beauty, I think is not yet gone.' He looked at me. I nodded.

' We were all happy at first, but I was young. I felt the chain. I was faithful to her as far as women went, but not kind. We had no children. One day in '39 she was in low spirits about me, and flung her arms upon a sudden about my neck, with ' Do you really love me, little John ?' ' You know I do.' ' But not as I love you.' At that very moment, lord, the devil must have been unchained from hell. To tell you what thoughts flashed in an instant through my mad mind would be impossible. That what she said was true! That while I did love her in a kind of way, I was bound to her for life whether I would or no. In a fit of wild rage I struck her on<£ short, sharp blow. She looked at me with despair in her eyes, and walked slowly into oui other room. I ran into the stable yard. ' Harness a troika,' said I to the starosta. ' I leave at once for Eharkof with dis patches thai the courier dropped and that I've found upon the floor. Quick ! quick ! the best courier horses.' In an instant they were ready. Merrily jingled the bells in the crisp air. Paul took the reins and off I whirled. In twenty hours I was at IQiarkof. To my friend the starosta at the great Kharkof station, who was equal in rank and pay to most postmasters themselves, I said: 'Dome a service, little frisnd, as I would do one for.you. I am going to leave my wife, to whom I have been.nnkind, and am going to enlist in the Guards. But I wish her to forget me, and she must think me dead. Write to her in a week and tell her that I was taken with the cholera and died. Beg her to forgive me for my unkindness; say t'jat I was grateful for her love and it was my last wish that she should marry again some lad mor? worthy of her than myself. Make interest to have the stition continued to her as postmistress. She was a priest's daughter and can write. We crossed ourselves ; he swore ; we bowed to the image in the corner of the stable, we kissed, and in five minutes I was gone. At the recruiting office I enlisted for the Empress' regiment of Cuirassiers of the Guard, as a fourteen years' volunteer, and in a false name. I'd of course no papers, but they asked no questions, for I was a fine recruit. 'My beard was shaved, my hair was cut, and

when I got to Petersburg and was fitted with my uniform and eagle-crowned hel met no one would haTe. known me.' I rose to be Sergeant and second Hiding Master. From your padarojna I see that you are English. Now. in 1853, when I had served my time, there were rumours of war in Turkey against you, andjtempt ing offers were made to me to stop and drill the new recruits. But I was wretched, and home-sickness drove me south, though if I found my wife dead or married again I intended to kill myself. Petersburg is not a place for Cossacks either. By brooding over the past I had become madly in love with my wife. It was no use for me to tell myself that I had left her well off; that she was mar ried and happy; that she was forty-four and fat, or else, perhaps, a scarecrow, I was madly in love. I got my discharge and pension papers and started south. At Kharkof my friend was dead. What if she too were dead ? * Who keeps the Donski post-station now?' I murmured, crossing myself the while under my long cloak. The widow.' ' A widow that has kept it fourteen years ?' ' The same.' In eight een hours I was there. I recognised two of the old men, but they not me. I rushed into the house. She was at her day-book writing, not changed. Only graver and with silver in her black hair. ' My own little Olga,' in the best style of old days. She did not turn to look at me, but threw up her arms and fell forward on the table I rushed to her and felt her heart, with mine too all but ceasing to beat. In a moment she came to herself—our lips fast glued together. That was in '53. This is '69. Sixteen years gone like a day. We have made up for the past, little lord.

' Bnt would you believe it ? That wretched Government at St. Petersburg j insists that I am dead and that the Donski station is kept by my widow. Or else they say the cuirassier riding-master must be dead, and with him his pension. My widow accepts the situation with a smile, for our neighbours all know better than to believe the Government, but she keeps the books, signs the receipts and pays the taxes. I draw my pension in my cuirassier name. A great Petersburg noble who was passing here last week told me that he didn't believe a word of my story, but that the Postmistress and I were ' quite in the fashion.' What did he mean ?'

Eastern Poets and the Prince of Wales.

It has. not been entirely with fireworks and dinners and military pageants that the heir apparent to the British throne has been received by his Oriental sub jects. Indian poets have celebrated his visit. In a Bengalese journal a poet of Bengal welcomes the Prince in English verse. This minstrel begins his song with the following couplet :

Hail! hall! one hundred hail« i To the mighty Prince of Wales ! ITe adds:

He will beautifully shoot. Full many a royal tiger brute : Turning on their backs they'll die, Shot in the apple of the eye— An assertion which, to say the least, exhibits a great deal of faith in the Prince's ability as a marksman, and will perhaps cause a feeling of regret among the frequenters of Wimbledon that he did not match his skill with the American sharpshooters there last summer. One Christianized native of India has written a timely hymn, of which we give a specimen stanza : • Praise ihe lord, my soul, O ! Praise his name al' ays ! May he bless the lMncenß, And her husband Wale 3!' The spirit ot this production is entirely praiseworthy, but it is somewhat lacking in the matter of rhyme, and the allusion to the Prince inevitably reminds one of Artemus Ward's account of his meeting with that gentleman in Montreal. ' I slapped him on the back",' said Artemus, * and says I, ' Wales, how are you ?' But a poem in the vernacular of Benga deserves the place of honor among these productions: ' The eldest-born of the Queen of England comes to

us across tho wild black waters : Let us therefore present to the elephant-headed god (Gansei) rice and melted butter !'

The anti-climax in. the second verse recalls to a writer in the ' Methodist' the familiar Eastern exclamation : 'In the name of the Prophet—figs !'—[' New York evening Post.'

A Slight Misunderstanding.

The Garienlaube tells the following: Just previous to Abd-el-Kader's depar ture from Paris in the] Fall of 18G5 Emile Girardin gave a grand entertainment in honor of the Emir, to which he in vited all his literary friends and notable acquaintances. In the courco of the evening Girardin said to Abd-el-Kader. 'I should esteem it a favor if you would accept 31y Two Sisters as a trifling memento of this day.' llij Two Sisters (the latest drama of the speaker) was just then creating an extraordinary furore. The interpreter, however, forgot to mention this fact. The hero of the evening arose, and, with a stately bow, folded his arms across his breast, and turning to his host, said :

'1 shall consider myself happy in accepting your gift, but as my seraglio

is rather, crowded,'.at r present I .should like to provide suitable apartments Ije,-" fore receiving,the ladies.' ,„'-. .'.< \ J,"\. i., j Amidst shouts of .laughter the matter was explained to the obliging Emir:- ;< i Another story is told about him, while captive, and confined in a French fortress, that "became his residence in ' the meantime. His children received instructions in French and writing from a Professor who visited the prison for that purpose. Abd-el-Kader was so pleased with this teacherthathestartled the studious fellow one day by pre seating him with one of his wiyes. The poor soul, who, by the way, was already provided with a wife, and one possess ing a good shars of thai superfluous temper for which Xantippe is so widely celebrated, was not particularly rejoiced with the Emir's generosity, and had the greatest difficulty to make him under stand why he could not accept the gift, or why his eyes and scalp would be in danger if he ventured to introduce a second wife into his household.

A Flying Visit from Sydney to Northern Queensland.

(Continued from' Supplement for January Ist) The evening of leaving Maryborough we called in at a place called Bunderberg, merely to discharge a small quantity of cargo. It took us considerably out of our course, and delayed our arrival at Rockhampton some hours. Curiosity led many of us to stroll ashore. Bunderberg turned out to be a very new settlement indeed, and consisted of a lot of cottages and stores shot down promiscuously like, here and there, so that the main street became at night a sort of mixed up arrangement very difficult to analise. The inhabitants seemed to live exclusively in hotels, at least we were led to believe so from these buildings being the only ones where life and light were visible. But . this erroneous conclusion was accounted for in the subsequent discovery of a theatre (a large-sized wooden cottage, minus the partitions) where a local drama tic and musical entertainment engrossed the attention of the entire population. ! Three shillings, collected inside, was the I mystic solution to an entree. Being late the ' reserved scats ' were all occupied, but a position at the rear of the audience was available. This afforded us a clear and unobstructed view of unkempt heads and shapeless felts ; for the audience hereabouts considered standing the correct thing, though there were forms enough and to spare. They stood, therefore, to a man, despising the effeminate method of sitting as being unworthy of the sterner sex ;so the women stood also. A ' laugh able farce' was on, which the audience evidently appreciated—individually and collectively. Afterwards came an ' interval of 10 minutes,' the signal for a stampede to an adjacent 'pub,' such as didn't join in it indulging in refreshments in the shape of pipes of tobacco, Tableau —a scene in the clouds—not in the programme. Some music and singing followed of a strictly amateur nature, and a verdict of firs^-rate closed satisfactorily the enter tainment. After this the town returned to its hearths and its homes, and Bunder berg was itself again. As for us, we went back to our ship and turned in, and when, on the following morning, we looked for Bunderberg, lo! we were far out at sea, ploughing the ocean with a strong and favourable breeze. At mid night we steamed into another port, Glad stone, and again we exercised our limbs

ashore.

Gladstone is the seaport town of the district of Port Curtis, and Port Curtis made itself known about 15 years ago as an Eldorado for the gold-digging community of Aus tralia. Its reported auriferous nature attracted a large population north, and directed the attention of prospectors more than ever to this part of Queensland. Gladstone is situated on a beautiful har bour completely landlocked by mountains. Unfortunately, being night, a good deal of the scenery was lost lo us, but the brilliancy of the moon enabled us to form an idea of what it was, and afforded an opportunity of viewing the town — a couple of fine jetties form admirable land ing places and connect themselves with the main street, a well-made thoroughfare traversing a steep hill and losing itself in the distant bush. The commodious stores and substantial houses visible told of former prosperity, but times had changed, and active business was a thing of the past. The people were hopeful, however, and were then agitating strongly for certain harbour improvements. Advan tage was taken of the presence of the Queensland engineer of harbours and rivers, who happened to be aboard our vessel, to wait on him in formal deputa tion, and a promise was extracted that he would visit them on his return from Bock hampton, The elevated position of Glad stone and its natural beauty of scenery impressed me with the belief that it would be a most desirable locality for health and comfort, but this belief was much shaken on learning that in the summer months a species of insect called a sand-fly, predominates to the extent of being an intolerable nuisance. This insect appears to enter the skin through tbe pores, and when there causes an irritation of a most maddening description. It is necessary then to cut into the flesh to dislodge it, a very painful operation,

.mbrhing ,we, were ..again ■on our 1 jotfrriey'northward, ( skiiiiming oyer the trackless ocean wiM a sea sm'66_th as glass, and with ho sound save that of the ever-revolving paddle wheels, or the occa sional chiming of the hour-bell. Shortly after daybreak our steamer entered Kep pel Bay and then the Fitzroy River, a noble stream, the mouth of which is some 40 miles from Rockhampton. The Rock hamptonites are justly proud of this river, and not without a cause, for its magnifi cent proportions render it second to none in Australia. The extreme width hereabouts is nearly two miles, hut it narrows as it approaches the town. The scenery is charming the whole way up, heightened by banks of emerald verdure. After winding round a magnificent range of mountains, we come suddenly upon Rockhampton. That which at once strikes the eye of a stranger is the long and substantially built promenade and carriage road which skirts the river and affords the residents at all times a delightful opportunity for a stroll or a drive by daylight or moonlight. From this they can watch the various steamers and crafts discharge their passengers and cargoes on to a commodious wharf beneath, or gaze on the grand mountain scenery which towers loftily above the thickly timbered bush on the opposite bank. The arrival of a steamer in these parts is an event, if we may judge from the crowd of people whom curiosity and other causes had at tracted to the spot, notwithstanding it was Sunday and during church' hours. A short time sufficed to domicile us in very comfortable quarters—a large and pleasantly situated hotel overlooking the the river. And here I may casually re mark that the hotels of Rockhamptbn are a credit to JSorfchern Queensland, and there are some which, from their com pleteness, comfort, and general, manage ment, put Brisbane completely to the blush. Rockhampton is the largest and most substantially built town in the nor thern territorry, and has a population of about 12,000. So rapid has been its pro gress that it is scarcely possible to believe its growth limited to but 15 years. In addition to the excellent wharfage 1 have mentioned, it can boast of fine wide streets, handsome public buildings, commodious and elegant shops, an imposing railway station (with a line of 45 miles), two daily newspapers, and a supply of gas. The town is completely confined to the southern side of the river, and has for its northern aspect the splendid range of mountains before referred to- Though the winter season was on we found the heat most oppressive, and could make some allowance for the number of poor perspiring souls who took constant refreshers at mine host's tempting bar. Every description of tropical fruit; was displayed in the shop windows,the product of the surrounding country, The mos quitos were very troublesome, and . soon became very familiar. Up the river were to be seen alligators, and in the bush, snakes ; but as I neither went up the river nor into the bush I did not encoun ter any of these ugly customers. A party of black fellows had pitched a,camp somewhere over tho water, and these made daily visits to tho town. - An attempt is made to utiiizo the natives as servants, but with what success I am unaware. Their actions were not calcu lated to impress one favourably as to their activity. Rockhampton is about 450 miles from Brisbane, and is the sea port of a large wool-growing, and gold producing district. It also does a large export in preserved meats. The great prosperity it once enjoyed has been con siderably modified of late by an exodus of miners and others to ports farther north.

My next destination was the great'sugar growing district of Mackay, some 250 miles up the coast, undoubtedly one of the wealthiest and most interesting.areas of country iv Queensland. Embarking on board a small steamer we soon found ourselves cruising amongst innumerable islands of all imaginary shapes and sizes, and I can only liken this portion of my journey to traversing a large lake. These islands dot the ocean a few miles from .land nearly tho whole distance between Keppel Bay and Bowcn, and from being frequently covered with a species of lofty pine trees impart a very picturesque aspect to tho scene. The sea, being per fectly smooth made it tho more enjoyable. Our vessel was advertised to calL at a place called Broadsound, so we en t off our course to discharge a few tons of cargo there. If we had any curiosity to see Broadsound it was soon dispelled on nearing the wharf. We had passed up a river or large-sized creek for nearly a mile, enclosed by a low-lying tract of the most uninteresting country . imaginable. Now we faced a great vWpden shed, the only tenement visible on shore, Here and there sundry pieces of machinery and logs of timber, a small, cutter hauled on shore, and a couple of. enormous, huoj^a undergoing the process of painting. The only sign of life, some half a dozen lumpers in readiness to discharge the cargo, and about as many wretched'looking hoases attached to a lorry. . Not a breath of wind stirred the heated atmosphere, rendered more intense by the blinding reflection from the water. In the cabin the heat, the smell, and the mosquitos all combined to force one on deck., 'Is this outlandish-looking place, Broad sound?' was the natural enquiry. 'Oh dear no, this is only St Lawrence, the Port of Broadsound,' was the, response, ' but you can easily reach the township if you wish, it is only four .miles away and a fair walking road.- weA»»&tM| c°flh

Evening* Star Suppljemeftt, January IS^JLSTG --& f -■*->. ***■*£->. f. ,*r*r^-- V ,-rs: *" .if ~ i-,~ __Z__t—-__^_t^——_-__Z



Itis demonstrated that the weight of the «ttth is 5,855,000,000,000,000 tons, yet some People think they tilt it up whenever they wfeabroafd,