TELE GREEK MAIDEN.

IT was a Bummer afternoon, and the murmur of bees came drowsily to the ear, The light wind scarcely turned the leaves, and the sea heaved tip and fell lazily. On a bold pro montory,overlooking the iEgean, snta Greek maiden, her eyes now straining across the distant waters, and now watching the narrow mountain road that led up to the summit where she stood, as if on the look out for someone, but uncertain by which way he would approach. At length her eyes caught sight of an athletic form bounding up the rocks, and, in the splen did costume of his race, she recognised her long-looked-for lover. " You have come at last, my life," 6he said, in the passionate language of the Kast, embracing nim, " never to leave again, I hope." " Would to God it were so," he answered, sadly. " But while our native soil is pro faned by the foot of a Turk, every true Greek must be up and in arms. Pray HeaveD, love, that this scourge may be ever soon, and then we can be happy." Tears filled the maiden's eyes, but she knew her lover was inflexible ; and indeed, how could she ask him to desert his coun try's cause, even if he <could consent? " I have watched for you day by day from this spot, but I forget every anxietj now that you are here. Let us to the house, for you look weary." " I am indeed so," was the reply. "It was through a thousand perils I reached you, for the whole lower country swaims -with the enemy, and I had more than one narrow escape." The maiden started in alarm. " What if they should track you here ?"' she said, with tremulous tone-?. " Oh 1 there is no danger of that," said her lover, reassuring her. " I eluded them too adroitly,aud they are now looking for me on the other side of the plain. But let us to the house." it was one of those mountain homes where alone security could be found during the struggle of theGreeksfor freedom ; and when the young soldier entered its neat walls, he felt a S6nse of security that had been a stranger to him, in that wild and predatory warfare, for months. The family consisted only of the aged father and mother of the maiden; and their delight to see him was equalled only by that of the daughter, So all were happy ; and as they sat around the evening meal, they forgot for a while even the wrongs of their country, and pic tured years of future happiness yet in store for them. The sun was ju«t setting, and the young Greek and his mistress had walked to the door to see the blue yEgean smiling under his departing beams, when suddenly the noise of a rock tumbling headlong, as if dis lodged from some neighbouring spot and dashing down the precipice, attracted the quick ear of her lover. He looked hur riedly around. The head of a Turk waa just rising above the level of a rock, and immediately two or three other turbansjwere seen following him as he sprang on the little plain where the dwelling stood. " VVo are betrayed," he cried, " secrete yourself in the house, or seek some spot for concealment. The enemy are on us. He drew his yataghan as he spoke, and at tne tame instant the enemy, recognising him, sprang forward with loud shouts. "This way," eagerly said the maiden, " th«y are too many for you. Fly, oh, fly 1" she exclaimed, agonisingly, as he hesitated, "we have a sure place of refuge if we can only gain it unseen." For half an hour the fugitives remained in their retreat, though the lion heart of the young Greek chafed to hear his enemies so near, and he unable to strike a blow. At lerjgth the sound of th»ir voices died away. Many minutes now were suffered to elapse, but finally the young soldier insisted on going forth to see if the enemy had departed. His miatress begged him to wait longer, and her entreaties for a while prevailed, but when another half hour had elapsed he c»utiously left the cave. With trembling anxiety they waited his return, and every minute seemed an hour to the maiden. At length even her parents admitted that his absence was unexpectedly long, and could not conceal their fears. Tne daughter would listen to no entreaties, but insisted on leaving their retreat to ascertain the cause of his absence, and, not withstanding her mother's prayers, finally set forth. What a scene presented itself to her eyes as she emerged to the open air ! The night had set in, but the whole heavens were il inmiDated with a lurid glare, whi h, her heart told her, even before she approached it, came from her burning house, once so happy, and where she fondly hoped to spend her wedded life. But a greater sorrow than the destruction of the roof under which she had been born was before her. In vain she searched everywhere for her lover. The little plain on which the house stoad was circumscribed at the moat, and a few minutes were sufficient for' a thorough search in every part of it; but nowhere was he to be found. With tearful eyes and fainting heart she approached at last the edge of the precipice where the enemy had first appeared. She almost fainted wuen her eyas met the broken yataghan of her lover, aad saw the grou«d wet with large drops of blood, and dented with hurried foot steps, ai if a deadly straggle had taken place thare. She sank on ths rock, and leaniug her head on her bauds, while large teara rolUd quiet and fast down bur cheeks, looked across the darkened tea, over which the still buroinjjj embtn of her father's house threw a fitful glare. All at once her eyes fell upon a saiL It was that, she felt, in which her lover, if alive, was being borne away ioto captivity, and burying her face, she gava way to conv»)si»e sobbings. Long she wept there hysterically. Once or twice she, looked up, but her «yes were 80 blinded with tears that she could see nothing but a dim waste before her; and when she fixed her gaze on the spot where the sail had been, it was not there. "It bas vanished in the rloohi," sha muttered, "andl shallneru sa« him more. Would that I were dead !' Tha terrible conviction was more than she could endure, her we»k nerves gave way, and she tainted. Ah 1 wisely does Heaven, when our sorrows become too great for endurance, fling the veil of insen sibility over them. *•• ' * * Morning was dawning heavily and slowly, and on that now desolate, promontory the weeping parents watched over their dying daughter. 3 hat dreadful shock, had de- Btroyed her, and during the night she had paßsed from one fainting fit to another. The agonised hearta of her parents almost broke to see her sufferingi, and as they -watched over her couch on the bard rock for the conflagration left them no better repose—the tears fell thickly from their eyes. " 1 shall meet him soon, dearest mother," said the poor girl, faintly, as the day began to break. " They cannot separate us in heaven. His sufferings will soon be over." "Do not talk so," said her sobbirjg parent. "He m»y yet escape, and all of us be happy. Oh !it breaks my heart to hear yon." The sufferer smiled faintly, but she shook her head. A silence of several minutes now ensued, broken only by the half stifled obs ot the mother.

"Hark!" suddenly said the maiden, "I hear a footstep—ah! Heaven, can it be?" she said, rising, with flushed cheek and eager eyes, "surely it is his—jet sol it cannot —cannot be," she added, plaintively. All started up and listened intently. A strp was certainly approaching, though the daricness that preceded the dawn prevented them from seeing anyone. Suddenly a form emerged from the shadows, and, with a quick cry of joy, they saw him whom they thought a priaoher. " Aie you indeed aliva! Oh! Heavenly Father be praised," said the now reviving girl, flinging herself on her lover's bosom, while the parents lifted up their eyea to their Creator, and poured forth deep prayers for his Providential return, and for the life of their child, which they now felt was restored to them,

As soon as the mutual agitation had somewhat subsided, the young soldier nar rated the circumstance which n»d befallen him since he left the cave. He had, as they suppoaed, {alien into the hands of the Turks, and been threatened with death for not revealing the retreat of his mirtress, whom they had seen with him on their first appearaace; but finding him immovable, they resolved to bear him off. Luckily, a few miles at sea, they had met with a Greek cruiser, jand b«en captured, when, taking a light aklff, the young soldier had hastened back to assure his mistress of his safety, and to undertake her protection in their now homeless state.

In one of the prettiest valleys of Greece, aaiid embowering vines and wild flowers, loaded wit.li fragrance, stands a neat dwell ing, and there, ih« toils and perils of war long pa»t, the hero and heroine of our story now reside, surrounded by a family of lovely children. But often In the gathering twilight, the father, that he may appreciate the blessings of the peace their beautiful country now eojoys, rehearse* the story of that eventful night.

BURYING THE BABY.

Story of an Indian Massacre,

I EBMBMBKa that the far-away reports of rifles routed us from sleep in the grey of dawn, and as we stood on our feet »nd lis tened more intently, we could now and then catch the echoes of an iofornal war-whoop. There were twenty of us, miners all, and we were in the foot hills of the Rockies, and more than half a mile from the great Overland Trail. "Boys, them Bounds means an Injun at tack and a butchery," whispered our leader as we listened; and without another word we picked up our traps and headed for the spot at a half rmn. Two immigrant families, farmers from Indiana, who had started for the land of gold and had separated from the train from whim or accident! had encamped in a bit of green valley beside the trail. There were thirteen souls of them, and one might won der if the bravest among them did not shud der with fear aa the night crept down and the howl of the wolf came from the rocky hills. The men had seen their danger, and both had set out to act no sentinels through the long night. Hoar after hour had pissed away without any alarm, and just as day was breaking the merciless savages, creep ing along like makes, had found one of the font in «lii asleep. A thrust from a knife fiaUhed him so quickly that he did not even throw up his arms. Perhaps he uttered a single cry or a groan and alarmed the other, for the second was shot while running towards the waggon. Then, with both men dead, came the rush upon the women and children. Only fiends conld have done soch work as was done there, and when we came to look at it the strongest men in the party grow white and faint. i£very head but one was eealped, and no doubt the sc*lpa had been taken while the victims lived. The bodiea were hacked and gashed hands and arms severed, brains beaten out—children flung into the camp-fire, and the spectacle was one to live in memory when, all el«e had been forgotten. The fiends had finished their work of butchery before we were near enough to open fire, and it was poor consolation to save the waggons. While all the bodies wero yet warm, life had departed from each and every one. We were collecting them in a heap, to make ready for burial, when a sudden wail startled everybody. "Ow—ew—ow—owl" came the Bound, and each man looked in the air above and on the ground below. "That 'ere sound pnrceeds from a baby, or I'm not father of thirteen children back io. Ohio !" exclaimed Jackson, as he made for the nearest waggon,' He was right. Down beside a chest, almost smothered under bed-quilts, was a year-old boy baby, but alas ! when he was handed out we found that he had bees fatally wounded by a bullet. Jackson sat down ou the grass and chirped to him and rocksd him to and fro, while the rest of us looked on in wonder and doubt, but Ik a quarter of an hour the baby was dead. He had gone to sleep the night before in his mother's arms, a nattered old tattle-box clutched fast in his tiny hand, and he never let gv> of it. There it w»a in his hand as <Wth stittossd his Sugars around it. Well, there was a general breaking down when they saw that the little one was going. He threw up his hands, gasped oncu or twice, and then settled back with such a smile on hie face as babies wear when their dr«*m« are awe»t, Old Jack son was crying like a child, and some of the men hid from each other behind the w»«jjons. It was a long time before the old nun arose, laid the little body down among lha prairie flowers, and huskily whispered s " We'll bnry him by hisself. One of thorn bodies oat there was his mother, but as we can't tell which from which, we'll make no mistake." Thera was oneiarge grave for the muti lated remains, and when the earth had be«m pressed dowa above them and rocks rolled down to prevent the work of the wolvee, we went to the centre of the dell, and there under a lame pine we hollowed out a resting-place for baby. When all was ready, Jackson took the body up in his arms, dropped hie hat on the grass, and looked around and said : " Hats off, men 1 We are ne*rer seem' angels this mornm' than any of ug will ever come agio I" Slowly—tenderly— grievingly the little form was laid away, und it w»s J«ck*oa's coat that came off lv« back to cover it be fore the earth was fillsd in. Every single man in our band took the shovel by turns to fill in and round up the grave and pro tect it, and before we went away there was a head-board to mark the spot, and on the biard a knife had engraved the single word ••BABY!"

A professor wag explaining, in a > oung ladies school in France, the theory accord ing to which the body is entirely renewed every seven years. "TJins, Mademoiselle X.," srid he he, addressing a, pretty blonde with a wide-awake face, "in seven years you will be no longer Mademoiselle F." " I hope so," replied the unsophisticated, casting down her eyes.

A WIDOW'S REVENGE.

A Caution to Male Flirts,

Mb Marshall Chichester had hit upon a very ingenious device for enlivening the periodical holidays which he Ep^nt in Eng land when temporarily relieved of his duties as a Civil pervant in India. He was a middle-aged Lothario, of a frugal turn of mind, and the first step he always took upon revisiting his native land was to gee engaged to be married to some youog lady whose family were in comfortable circum stances. By this dashing expedient he was generally able to live almost free of ex peDse during his leave, thanks to the hospitality of the young lady's relatives ; while the duties of his courtship afforded an agreeable relaxation. when pressed to name the wedding day, Mr Chichester con trived to be suddenly recalled to his post in India, from whence, after a decent interval of increasing coldness, he would write and break off the engagement — provided, of course, his studied neglect since his de parture had not already elioited from the young (lady, an indignant dismissal. Obviously this was a very dangerous game to play, but caution was inherent iv Mr Uhichester's character, and he never honoured with hia attention a lady who had brothers In the army or other relatives of the aggressive sex who might be likely to turn up in India. The tonrequence w»b that he had hitherto pursued this unworthy manoeuvre with impunity, and he landed in Knelaod Jast bummer with the deliberate intention of repe»ting the experiment. While he wai seeking an opportunity to put his little plan in operation, he chanced to meet one day, at the bouse of a casual acquaintance, a lady who hud been one of the earliest victims of his faithlessness- bhe was now the widow of a Colooel Lucas, who had recently lost his life under very s»d circumstanoe» while travelling in Africa. The rencontre was certainly a little awkward, but, recollecting that Mrs Lucas had married within a month or two after the termination of their engagement.Mr Chichester felt less embarrassed than he might otherwise have done. He was completely reassured by the friendly salutation which, the pretty widow vouchsafed him, and when he ventured te renew acquaintance with her she made no unpleasaat allusions to the past, but greeted him in a mosc flattering manner. At their first interview.Mrs Lucas pressed him to call upon her, which he accord ingly did. It should be explained, how ever, tbat in the interval Mr Chichester had made a discsvery which considerably surprised him. It appeared that since her marriage the widow had inherited iv her own right from a distant relative avcry consider able fortune. This circumttance impressed Mr Chichester immensely, for he fully in tended one day to many a rich wife, and it naturally occurred to him that Mrs Lucas might suit him as well as anybody elee. He suddenly remembered, too, that he had always entertained a lingering affection for her, and he did not doubt for one in»tant that his tender sentiments were recipro cated. He therefore dressed himself with more than ordinary care when he paid the promised visit, and he found the widow surrounded by every evidence of wealth and luxury. She had a pleasant little house iv * fashionable neighbourhood, and, by a subtle process of mental aritnmetic, Mr Cnicbeiiter arrived at the conclusion, while waiting for her in her pretty drawing-room, that she must be living well within her income. This re flection, pleasantly suggestive of a nest-egg; of savings, caused him to think more seriously than ever of the idea which had taken possession of him, and wheu Airs Lucas at length made her appearance, look ing, as it seemed to him, twice as hand some aa she had ever dane before, Mr Chichester resolved to lay siege to her heart in earnest. Considering Mrs Lucas's marked gracions ness and the intimate nature of their former friendship, it is not surprising that Mr Chicbester should have anticipated an easy conqueat. He had faith in his power of fascination, and it must be owned that he was what is called a lady's man, He was slim and gentlemanly, with soft, agreeable manners, and an endless flow of small talk. He knew a little about millinery, could de scribe a dress or a bonnet with tolerable ac, curacy, and affected to be an authority on matters of taste. He soon found, however, that his court ship was likely to last longer than he bad hoped. The fact wa-3 that the widow's wealth had brought her many admirers, and she had developed au irritating propen sity for mild flirtation, Whether from coquetry or design, Mrs I ucas seemed anxious to avoid—or at all events to delay— a formal proposal, and though she encour aged Mr Chichester's attentions in rather a marked way, she contrived to keep him at arm's length. (-:e began to be tortured with pangs of jealousy, and faf worse than tbis, hia hotsl bill assumed gigaotic propor tion)!, while he made no appreciable progress with his mit. At the cad of three months he was still in a etate of eutpense, Hnd as his leare of absence was about to expire, it was absolutely necessary that he should know his fete. He thtr.'fore one day watched his oppor tunity, and avowed his passion before th<= widow had time to thwart him. He was less surprised than dismayed to fiad that she was inclined to refuse him, but deapera ti-n endowed him with such a torrent of persuasive eloquence that the lady somewhat reluctantly yielded to his protestations, only, however, upon cmdition that the en gagement should be kept secret. Nothing would induce her to consent to fix the wedding-day even at a remote date ; and sbe pleaded her recent bereavement as v reason for insist ing upon tbe strictest tccrccy. Mr Chichester had no alternative but to fall in with this arrangement, though it consider ably detracted fiom his satisfaction. There were reasons why it was rather important that he should not be absent irom his post much longer ; but though he pointed tbis out to the widow, he was unable to overcome her delicate scruples. On the whole, however. Mr Chichester was, of course, highly elated with this happy consumtnution. Th« widow's for tune was, as it were, within his grosp, which reconciled him to the risk he hod run of ruining his official prospects by remaining in England. 11-- app'ied for sick leave, removed from bw hotel into modest lofigintv, and prepared to await ■with equanimity the tcm'naiion of the period of probation which the widow had insisted upon. But be speedily realised that there were many inconveniences attached to bis secret engagement. Mrs Lucas sternly denied him the ordinary privileges of an accep'red 1 >ver, refusing evea to receive him alo;,e in her house, for fear of exciting suspicion. On the other hand, she aid not sutler him to e=cape from any of the penalties of an engaged man- She kept him constantly iv attend ance upon her, always taking care, however, to secure the presence of a third party. She organised costly little dinners at Richmond nnd elsewhere, and insisted upon Mr Chichester playing host to herself and her friends, bhe re quired to bo kept In good humour by con stant presents of jewellery, opera tickets, bouquets, and other expensive trifles, and

seemed to take a malicious satisfaction in making him spend money. Mr Chichester groaned in spirit, but dared not appear backward ia displaying his devotion. He had an uncomfortable suspicion that his hold upon the widow's affections was less secure than he could wish, and he could not reconcile himself to the idea of losing so rich a prize. _ In course of time a still mere serious mis giving dawned upon Mr Chichester's mind Month succeeded month, and the widow* continued to procrastinate in the matter of their wedding, and showed symptoms of temper when he ventured to remonstrate wi h her. Her off-hand manner suggested tbat she had been trifling with him all alone; by way of revenge for his former treatment of h?r. The idea was at first so startling that it seemed preposterous, but ot length he could not help arriving at the conclusion that he was the victim of a de liberate conspiracy. The proof was that when the news came that his orolonßed i-tay in England had resulted in his losing an appointment in India to which he hart looked forward for years, the widow did not evince the least concern, but, on the contrary, exhibited tbe most unbecoming levity. This discovery Daturally gave Mr Chi chester an unpleasant shock, aod filled him with virtuous indignation, but it did not exactly reduce him to despair He was. by no means disposed to fall in with the lady's wishes by terminating the engagement, having long ago made up bin mind that if he could not become master of tbe widow's fortune, he would at least secure a sub stantial slice of it by way of danuges for his oismissal. He was" not a delicate minded man, and did not shrink from occupying the anomalous position ot male plaintiff in an action for breach of promise of marriage. Having had this cintiugency in.view for a lone time, he h«d succe«*fu,liy manceu\red to obtain from tbe widow a letter referring to their engaffemen', ho thai, if, after all. she jilted him, he would have the connotation of revenge. It beiug, therefore, now pretty evident that all hope of gaining the lady's band was at an end, it oniy remained for him to be patient and lotigsuffering. That he would triumph ultimately he entertained no doubt, thouifh unfortunately he had, in an un guardfd moniint, dropped an expression which hadjipparently put the widi w on the defensive, since she Bicmed equally deter mined not to speak the momentous words. Mr Chicbedter entered into thenewphase of his courtship with mingled feelings, though he was conscious that he held the trump card. He foresaw that the lady, being bent upon annoying him, would easily succeed in rendering his life a.burden to him. He had already had bitter ex perience of her ingenuity in putting him to expense, and he had too good reason to feav she would continue this very effectual persecution. All these dismal forebodings were realised even more fully than he had anticipated. The widow threw oiFthemask, and nearly succeeded in driving him to desperation. Mr Cbichester lay awake night after night, and moaned at the indig nities which were heaped upon him and the ruinous expenditure he was forced to incur. The worst of his position was tbat he had to maintain an outward semblance of de votion, while his soul writhed ivitn anger and indignation. The latent spark of man liness within him was on the point of blazing into a fierce flamp- more than once, when shrewd and sordid caution would in tervene, and by whispering that every day's delay and every fresb^item of expense increased his claim for damages, reconciled him to his miserable existence. This singular warfare lasted nearly six months, and Mr Cbichester reached a state of mind which bordered on distraction. He could neither eat nor sleep, and his deter mination not to give way became a sort of monomania. Mrs Lucas showed symptoms of an intense longing for freedom, and be came more reckless than ever in her treat ment of tbe unfortunate gentleman. But at length the inevitable crisis arrived, and he received a short note from the lady, which ran thus: " Mrs Lucas presents her compliments to Air Marshall Chichester, and in returning the presents he has been kind enough to give her, begs to inform him that all question of marriage between them is at an end " Mr Chichester drew a long breath of heartfelt relief and satisfaction upon read ing this missive. He was rather surprised at the curtness of the communication, and wondered that the widow had been able to refraiu irom firing a parting shaft at him. However, the omission naturally did not disappoint him, and the terms of the note could not have been better suited to his purpose. His case was now complete, and he at once put it into the hands of a soli citor, with instructions to commence an action without a moment's delay. The amount of damages he claimed astonished the legal gentleman to whom he confided his troubles, but there was no doubt he had suffered substantial losses owing to the widow's perfidy, not to mention his disap pointed hopes with regard to her fortune. It was, he thought, quite evident that he could not fail to obtain a verdict for a large amount, so he awaited the result of his action with confidence. But a few days later, just as he w«s beginning to recover from his state of prostration, he received a visit from his lawyer, Mr Kinks, whose ominous expression denoted evil tidings. "What is the matter?" inquired Mr Cbichester anxiously. "I issued a writ in your action, and I've just received a communication from the solicitors on tbe other side," said Mr Binks iv a despondent tone. "Weil?" inquired MrChichestcreagerly, " I'm afraid ilium has been an awkward mistake about the business," returned the lawyer. "You said you were sure the lady is a widow."' " Ss she is," said Mr Chichester, opening bia tyes. " She thought co; but unfortunately that turns out not to be the ca.se. Colonel .Lucas was not killed, as everyone supposed, but returned home unexpectedly a few days '• The dcuct!" exclaimed Mr Chichester, with surpiise. •' Ye?," said Mr Binks, shaking his head, sorrowfully, "there is no doubt about it. I have seen Mrs Lucas's solicitor, and it appear* sbe was as much taken aback as a-.iyone. That acconnto for her breaking off the engagement, and there is an end of your action." "a n end of— eh 1 What do you mean ?" cried Mr Obichester, with a sudden forebod ing. ".'twould be madneßi to proceed. The contract was founded upon a mistake—a couiplete misapprehension of the lady's position. Had she known her husband was living, and cmcealed the fact, you might possibly have recovered damages from her private^ fortune, even though she had never been in a position to perform her promise ; but there is no pretence for saying she had the least suspicion that Colonel Lucas was alive. On the contrary,,ahe had every reason to believo he was dead. You were equally under a roLaapprohension, and, therefore, there is no doubt your action would be defeated by a plea ot mistake,.'.' explained the lawyer, .-glibly. ■ .... •. '' i'hen, do you mean.to tell me—" gasped Mr Chichester. .. .'. ■. •.- ",. .'. •> < •'Excuseme. •. Perhaps, you had.better

take v K las- ot wat-o-," mieiposed the lawyer, justly alarmed by the expression of his client's face. Mr Chicheeter sank snto a chair ana gulped down half a tumbler of sherry. He seemed perlectly dazed and crushed by his rnisfortuues, and Mr- Binkg had great difficulty in making him understand that he must pnt up -with hts losses, and tiat he could not recover compensation from anyone. When he realised the bitter trutn, the unhappy centle man lost bis self-control, aud ravedlike a maniac, finally working himself into such a state|of frenzy tbat he had an apoplectic fit. This helped to diverr. his thoughts from his disappointment by frightening him dread fully aoout his health. He returned to India shortly afterwards, a confirmed bachelor and valetudinarian ; and his aged and altered appearance greatly shocked hia friends.—" Truth"

A Wife Selling Her Husband.

Mr O'Neill, an American citizen, thinks that he has been very hardly used by the tribunal ot Lichfiold, in the state of lowa. He appeared before the judge nnder an accusation of bigamy, and, conducting his own defence, cross-examined the lady who passed as hia second wife. The following dialogue took place : — When we were married, did yon believe I was legally entitled to contract a marriage? A.—That I don't know, not being a law yer ; I merely consulted my own inclina tions, ) Q —Kid you purchase me ? Tni- judge (interposing).—Purchase you ! What do you ini'an by that ? The defendant. —I mean what I say; I ask whether sue bought and paid for me? a.—l bought you of your first wile, and paid for you. Q. —How much? j\.. —fehe asked ten dollars, but I gave tier fifteen, because I thought it was too tittle. You see it was rather humiliating for you. Q. — Was not the matter entirely settled between you and her ? A. —Yes ; she said that her father had given you some money when she was married to you, and that she had a perfect right to sell you if she felt inclined. After these explanations Mr O'Neill burned triumphautly ronnd towards the judge, his countenance beaming with the assurance ot having put his accusers to jonfueion. Painful, therefore, must have been his surprise when the judge, after pon. Itrmg fora few moments, said, " O'Neill, [ think we must make it eight months, with lard labour."

Buddha and the Poor Woman:

A bkautifud story is told of Bnddha and a poor -woman who came to ask him if there was any medicine which would bring back to life her dead child. When he saw her distress, he spoke tenderly to her that there was one thing which might cure her son. He bade her bring a handful of mustard seed, common mustard seed; anly he charged her to brioc it from a house where neither father nor mother, child nor servant, had died. So the woman took her dead baby in her arms, and went from door to door, asking for the mustard seed, and gladly was it given to her ; but when she asked •whether any had died in the house, each one made ihe same sad answer, " I haye lost my husband," or, " My child is dead," or, "Our servant has died." So with a heavy heart the woman went back to_ Buddha, and told him how she had failed to get a muatard feed, for that she could not find a siDgle house where none had died. The Buddha showed her lovingly that she must learn not to think of her own grief alone, but must remember the griefs,, of others, seeing that all alike are sharers in sorrow and death.—" Herald of the Cross."

Ingenious Theft

A theft, Email in proportions, but amus ingly ingenious in its conception, tock place a short time ago at the Grand Hotel, Paris.

An elegant looking gentleroaD, lodging at that well-known establishment, and j>ivin« his name as Sir James X., Bart., went in toll fa-ihioaaole bootmaker's shop on the Boule vard dcs Capucines, and ordered a pair of the very handsomest boots that could be made; no expense was to be spared, and the hnots were to be B.;nc home on a certain day by ten o'clock, as the purchaser was to leave for Marseilles by the 12 40 train? After that, h« went to another bootmaker on the Boulevard dcs Italics, and ordered a second pair of boots precisely itnilar to the first, which were to be sent home on the same day a-* the others, but at three o'clock, as he was to leave for Brussels at five.

Punctually at the appointed hour, boot maker No, 1 appeared with Ma boots. Sir James tried them on, and found them splendid, admirable, not in the least dear, but the left boot hart him a little. Would not the bootmaker take it home, put it on the last, and stretch it slightly ? He could bung it back the n»xt morning, as Sir J:unes was obliged delay his departure for twenty-four hou. , owing to pressin" bu-iijces. "

Of course, the obliging tradesmen complied with the wishes of Jr.s aristocratic customer, and walked nff with his solitary boot. In the afternoon bootmaker No. 2 entered, and the same process was repeated, only this time it was the ii«ht boot of which the customer complained, and which the boot maker catried off to stretch.

i he next m->ruins< the two luckless trades men metface to f^ioe, each having but one hoot, their charming and aristocratic cus tomer having taken his departure by the .night traia for London with the other pair.

Consumption in Victoria.

IT appears, from a pamphlet published la 1876, that a well-known medical man la Melbourne, Mr William Thomson, there ex pressed very definite views as to the para sitic nature of tubercle, anticipating hy six years a doctrine which has lately come into favour. In. a recent treatise Mr Thomson shown from statistics that the mortality from consumption iri Victoria is greatly on the increase ; thus, taking oil ages, it has increa-ed from 11.49 per. 10,000 in 1871 to 13.90 in 1881. And it .is -pointed out that thia is not to be accounted lor by any influx oE dying visitois to the colony, but is largely due to an inc'roasinir death-rate amoDp Victoria-born persons. Mr Thomson maintains that phthisis jtf a specific poison disease,.that it in never ot climatic origin, nor due to dampness of foil, or depressing circumstances of life, that it has been im ported, into Australia by invalids .from Europe, &e_ Its prevalence among!• ctvnnt girla is attributed solely to tho-inhalation of the germ-laden dust of the bedrooms they have to sweep out. Sea voyages ■ are beQeficial to .consumptive patients chiefly because they snbject the patient to a tton tinned inhalation of saline and slightly iodised air,'which is'unfavourahle to' tha development of the parasites, , ,' t..-'*■■-•■ , « ■ i* •- Ji»"i.. >: jUuUt i .'&*;

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, AUGUST 11, 1883.

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