wherever he went. He knew he was good !_____' He knew he was clever. He knew he was married. Hii wife had brought him nothing worth -Wneaking of -not position, happiness. He t_dbeeu everythiog to her, aodThow ooorly ,t™_she requited bi-n llt was only by the Utmost care ho avoided a damning scandal Sting upon his name through her. . fortune had favoured him up to this, ■tffnctdFortune be bis friend still further? -a., it too much to hope that another .sat piece of good luck might await him ? 8 There was ooe sure way out of all his _,__er and difficulties, if he had only been iXjle man; there was Maud If when Sir Alexander died, he were a bachelor, he might marry Maud. She fa_eW nothing of the world, and he knew he liked him. There would be no need ifo. bis ruin if be were only a bachelor. It was beyond thti power of Fate to make -Hen a bachelor; but suppose Fate should take away that unloved wife, that great danger to'his name, that great siumbiing hlook in the wa.V 0I bis successful progress? Then? What then? Answer: He should .marry Maud, and so wipe out the history of the crime. Would chance or accident, would Heaven or Hell, or whatever else he might call if, toke away from him ihi» woman wno was Tcaiseaod burden, and give him the woman i_, o would bring him deliverance ? Such thoughts had long haunted hia •mod before he had heard on that 17th of August the voices which assailed aod (sainted him in tremendous tones; tbat day o_ which the fats of the steamer Kodweil Ind of Beatrice his wife, of tho Weird Sisteis tad the Towers ot silence, became sealed together for ever. (To be Continued.)

BATTLE OF WATERLOO

_4 Soldier's Account of the Fight.

jfjj p. Hayes?, of Epsom, writes:—l have in my possession the following letter ■" oi Sergeant Charles Wilson, of the Third Battalion First Regiment of Foot Guards, describing his experience at Waterloo— j -.wilder to shoultlor, steady and true, ffitas your fot efathers taught you to do; ' Schtforthe Union Jack—red, white, and blue, i Jjd be snre that you couquer for England. The Sergeant writes on tbe 16th of June ;— "We marched at 4 o'clock in the morning abont 24 miles, and went into action. We arrived just in time, as the French were driving back toe Belgians. After one hour «_d a half hard fighting, we maintained our noaition, but our loss was very great. On the 18th we took up our position on the field of Waterloo, leaving the enemy to choose his position. We opeoed fire with qeven guns before they returned an -answer,' and then they did reply in good earnest. I addressed my compiny in a E few words:-'Be steady aod attentive to orders, keep perfect silence, use all skill in levelling, make sure of your mark, and in the charge use all yonr 1 _trength,-and at the day's end victory will be ours.' The eoemy opened fire with ' ronnd shot, shell, grape and canister, and 3 -horse-shoe nails tied np in bundles with copper wire,, Our battalion and a battalion ..'of Rifles of the King's German _egion, 1 hIOO in number, advanced in front of the • i whole line into a valley which was between ■ the two opposing armies, an,d within 2DO paces of 5,000 cavalry and 3,000 infantry, j ■They viewed us with astonishment, formed I . square, and neither charged nor fired upon 'a os, but we suffered much from some guns behind them on the heights. We remained j .ting at them for half an honr, and then retired into line. The cavalry, with steel breast plates, chaTged as many times during ■ the day, bnt made no impression on us. :*»¥. repulsed them with great slaughter. 'We never fired at the cavalry till they came within 20 yards of us, and then our bullets weut through their armour like it_es through glass. Towards the evening jinaparte sent against us his 105 th, and ia .Jess than an hour we cut them all to pieces, 7 and took their colours. He then sent against ' na hia Imperial Grenadier Guards. They I c&mewithin 100 yards, and ported tbeir arms , to charge. Our colonel ordered us to advance. I The bngles sounded the call. Xhey allowed v'- U3 to come within thirty yards of them. I' They stood still, looked at us, gave a I straggling fire which did us but little harm, faced about and fled for their Uvea in all directions. They could not face the cold ;. .ateel of the British bayonets. We'puraued, .and many of them fell. I now wear a colonel's sword of the French Imperial Guard, When the 105 th advanced upon . us, the guns on the high ground at the same time raked ns with grape, canister and horaenails. Our line was much shattered. 'Atone time I feared it would not stand. If we had given way it would have gone 1 bard with the King's (jerman Legion. Our 1 loss at this time was tremendous. I picked ;7 UP o bloody coat belonging to an officer of onr regiment, where the body had been -stripped during some of our movements. I ' waved the coat and cheered the meo, tbat ,a< our officers' died like tbis, it was the duty ■of the men to follow. The men answered .'me with a cheer. They had used up all y.tlieir ammunition, bat I ref used to let them ,;to,.the rear to got supplied, as I told them ■ they had still their bayonets. Though not 'mentioned in the despatch, all fought well; | ~ yet it was our third battalion of the first j ./.Guards and the battalion of the Germaos. j :7«hat- first tnrned the day in our favour. I. . When the Imperial Guards ran, Napoleon's | .defence was lost; his whole line became j confusion. The duke then seized the "moment, and in five minutes formed a line for o general charge. Then the British shouts were heard oi " Hurrah, victory 1" Host of my company, killed aod wounded, ythiee officers, three sergeants, and 54 tank ■and file, out of 97. Some of them, after ».fljjjtheir wounds were dressed, returned and 'fought throughout the day. as colour- I {sergeant, I have defended the colours from ..oar march till borne within the gates of c.Paris. Seven of our colour-sergeants centered the field, and now there is but s.{,,.myaelf and another left. Tbe French . '•behaved badly to our prisoners. On the 116 th some of our wounded were killed by them. On the 16th I saw a French officer fall wounded, and unable to escape, beiog made a prisoner, he ripped up his bowels ~!'*ithhisown sword. The Prussians fight well, but with great bitterness, and show no mercy to the poor French. They are !,.. now plundering the museums of Paris oi :;. .what the Frewch plundered them of. The : French make a great noise in fighting, bo ,-!'- do the Belgians; the British only shout. COLOUKSEBG-ANT C. WILSLDN. Camp, Mots de Boulogne", Paris, 29th i. Jaly, 1815,3 rd Battalion lit oegiment Foot ■tt.* Guards,

MAID OF ALL WORK.

RACfKL RAMSAY looked very pretty in deed as she came down the narrow wooden staircase in the little brown farmhouse that afternoon, dressed in :?. white muslin dresa strewn all over with tiny pink rosebuds, and a fresh lace frill round her neck, tied with pink ribbon, while her pretty feet wete buttoned into a new pair of boots, with high French heels, and hi hair was cnrled in loose, glossy coil* of shining bronze. 'Kh !' said Granny Bamsay, looking up from her everlasting knitting work, over which she was half asleep; 'going to church, hey?" 'It isn't Sunday, grandma,' explained the girl, laughing and colouring, ' I'm going to the Tower, to see Miss Calhoun, fbe has often invited me there-she und Miss Bell.' 'Pshaw !' said Granny Ramsay, who was one of those venerable' people privileged to speak their rniud on all occasions : ' whatdo the fine city ladies at tho Tower want ot a farmer's daughter like you?' ' But, grandma, they've invited me 1' 'It reminds me,' said grandma shrewdly, '■of tho old story of 'tho iron pot aud the china pot swimming down stream together, and they don't nowise suit,.' Rachel said no more, bit escaped into tho shady lane, where the maple* were beginning to turn pale yellow in tne first September frosts. 'Grandma is always c.iticising every body,' she thought. ' 1 know the ladies ot the Tower wiU be glad to see me. Miss Alice wants to sketch my he id for' Elaine,' and Miss Bell asked me fo sing duets with her. She said I bad a voice like a lark. And perhaps Mr Harold Uiirold-00. will be thero I For I know he often visits at the house.' And Bechel smiled to herself as she crossed the rustic bridge and went through the woods to the Tower, a fanta-tic wooden cottage with a semi-circuit.r wooden front, which {was let for the summer, the owner thereof preferring to live iv a square brick structnre in the villuge. The little side door was open, and Rachel went in. From the.left of the passage way a door opened into the kitchen, and there, to her iufinite amaz-ment, see saw Miss Alice Calhoun herself, in an (esthetic dress of pale sage green and reipcs In her' hair, contemplating a pair ot decapitated fowls which lay on the table. * Miss Alio.*' she exclaimed 'Is that you, Rachel?' cried the city young lady, pouncing on her as a drowning man pounces on the nearest floating straw. ' Ob, I never was so glad to see anybody in all my life. These horrid be«s ! Bridget has gone away in a regit because I pre sumed to find fault with the coffee this morning, and we have got company to dinner, and I haven't an idea how to get the feathers off these creatures. But now that you are here everything will be all right.' And she shook off the big bib-apron and stepped back with a sigh of relief. reachel looked perplexed.' She had come there, not to enact tbe rOic of the kitchen maid, but to visit Miss Calhoun, to sit in her drawing-room and enjoy the conversa tion of her guests, aod she did not exactly relish this summary dismissal to the kitchen. 'There ia sonp stock,* went on Miss Alice, ' and a salad, and a delicate piece of halibut, and with tbe fowls roasted, and a pie or a padding, or something which I dare say you can make, we shall do very nicely. I'm particularly anxious about the dinner, because we are to have company. You'll excuse me now, because I have to dresa' And away tripped Miss Alice, selfish and smiling as ever was Queen Cleopatra's self. foor Rachel 1 She stood a minute in the hot kitchen, the tears springiog to her eyes, a pong of disappointment at her heart, She knew all abont it. Harold Haroldsnn and Mr Dallas were to dine thero that day, and she—she was to be cook, waitress, maid-of-work—what signified it what she called herself ? She remembered what grand ma had said, and for once in her life gave that venerable old lady credit for • dis crimination. There was no help for it, however, She tied on the bib-apron, tucked the curls back of her ears, and went to work to pre pare the chickens for the roasting pan now and then pausing to brush away the round, bright tears which rolled down her cheeks. These young ladies evidently intended to make her useful. She might have known that they did beforehand. She conld hear the soft sound of Hell Calhoun's guitar; the sweet, subdued tinkle of Alice's laughter; the deep monotonous undercurrent of gentlemen's voices; and then she glanced down at her pretty muslin dress and bows of pink ribbon, and began to think that Miss Calhoun had taken an unfair advan tage of her. If she could only have heard the energetic coloquy which transpired between the two sisters in their dressing-room when first Alice came upstairs, she would perhaps have better comprehended the drift of things. • Good news 1 Miss Calhouo had cried, waving her scented pocket-handkerchief in the air. ' I've got a girl in the kitchen I' ' Ho I' said Miss Bell, a fair-haired, cream complexioned damsel, with pale blue eyes, and a perpetual smils. ' ,'Bachel Ramsay,' nodded Alice, 'came up here io her best biband tucker, to speod the day. Of course, I confiecated her at once.' «The bold, poshing thing!' said Bell with a disdainful gesture. ' She's a deal too pretty to bring into the drawing-room for Haroldaon and. Armine Dallas to flirt with,' added Miss Alice, knowingly. 'And I don't see any way tbat I could have avoided it, if it had not been for those lucky chickens and Bridget's fortunate fit of temper. Make haste, now; they'll be here in a minute. And I know litt'e Rachel is a first-class cook, for I've been there to tea.' So the young ladies of the Tower were enjoying the feast of reason and the flow ot soul in their cool drawing-room, with books, new-gathered roses, and blue ribboned guitars, while poor Racbel Ram say was broiling iv the kitchen over peach tarts and Neapolitan creams. She hod not forgotten her disappoint ment ; but, artist-like, she bad thrown herself into her occupation with engrossing interest, and she was stirring the creams with a quick, energetic hand, when a step crossed the threshold, ' Here are some fresh trout, Bt idgot, to surprise your mistress,' said a clear voice. And to her infinite amazement Harold Haroldaon stood before her, in his hunting costume, with a fishing rod lightly balanced on his shoulder. ' I'm not Bridget,' said the girl, laugh ing, but still stirring on. ' I'm Rachel.' ' Miss Ramsay I' he exclaimed, lifting his cap. ' How in the name of all that is won derful came you here ?' And then, not without humour, Rachel detailed the manner and incidents of her capture. ' I am the maid-of-all-work, if you please,' she said with a curtsey. ' Then let me help you,' said Harokbon, briskly tying a second bib apron around his hunting suit. ' I used to be a pretty good

band at spider and gridiron, when 1 camped out on the Lake Capsaptic, up in Maine,' 'But you're not engaged.' said Rachel, half-pleased, half frightened 'I can volunteer,' observed the young man. 'Give me the oil and vinegar, and you will see what dressing, a la mayonaisc, I can provido for tbat salad of yours.' And if a pair of cooks ever spcut a ele lightfnl unconventional sort of morning in the kitchen, this pair did. They laughed, tbey made innocent jokes, they hehaved like two school children. And at last, when Hactiel ran out into the ' garden to gather some watercresses to deck I the newly-roasted fowls, Mr Haroldson ; heard the voice of Miss Bell Calhoun call iag down the stairway . ' Rachel! Rachel ! you may serve the dinner. Kveryono is here but that tiresome Haroldson 1' 'And he's hero, too,' calmly responded that gentleman, who was washing his hands at the pump. ■ What I' cried Bell, shrilly. ' The cook and butler are expected to take their meals in tbe kitchen,' said Mr Haroldson, with commendable gravity ' And I've no objection to that arrauge ni3nt.' Andnoth _gcould induce Harold Harold son to come upto the dining room. He and Rachel ate together their picuictng sort of repastand washed the dishes—although the matter somewhat lost its spice when the Misses Calhoun and their compauy all ad journed en masse to the kitchen and per sisted in joining their ranks. And when the purple snnaet came dreamily down over the dark cedars that overhung the brawling stream, and the gay guests had all departed, Alice and Bell Calhoun gazed dubiously at each other. ' Was ever anything so provoking,'said Bell. 'He has actually gone home with her, said Alice, bursting into angry tears, ' And after all the pains we took to keep them apart!' aighed Bell. ' It was all your fault,' petulantly ex claimed Alice. 'Moticing that farmer's daughter, and dragging her out of bor sphere in that sort of way I' * But it was you that plumed yourself on getting her into the kitchen 1' scolded Bell. ' And a nice mess you've made of it!' 'But how were we to tell that it was going to end so ?' groaned poor Alice. ' Well, Rachel,' said Granny Ramsay, when the girl came in, just as tho lamps wero lighted, ' what sort of a day did you have ?' 'Humph!' granted Granny, after her answer. ' That's a queer way of entertain ing visitors. But p'raps that's city manners.' 'Perhaps it is,' »aiel ftaohel demurely. ' Who was it came home with you ?' asked Granny, who was not quite deaf or blind as yet, ' and left you at the garden gato ?' 'One of the other servants,' said Rachel. ' Well, I never,' said Granny, ' Where's all your pride, Rachel Bamsay ?' * 1 never was prouder in all my life than lam to-night,' said Bachel. ' Listen, grandma, for I have so much to tell you. Mr Harold Haroldson, of New York, walked home with me, and I've met him ever so many times before this summer at picnics and archery parties and such places, but I never knew that he cared for nie. And to-night he asked me to marry him, and he is to como hero to-morrow morning to see lather.' ' Do you love him,' said Granny Bamsay, huskily. And Kachcl answered — 'Yes.' * Then God bless you, my child, and give you both a long and happy life,' said the old lady, softly smoothing the girl's bright bead, And everyone was satisfied except the ladles of the Tower.

A Conjuror's Meal.

TllK celebrated conjuror Robert Houdin baa written a book embodying his experi ence. He tells a tale about an impudent fellow who covenanted to perform a most extraordinary feat, and if he didn't do it, nobody proved hia inability to do it. Whether to call this an example of straightforward or of deceitful conjuring, I can't exactly determine in my own mind. Yon shall hear the tale and judge for yourselves, Tho impudent fellow placarded the walls and hoardings ot a French town to the effect that ova certain day he would eat any 000 of the audience who might choose to submit himself to the operation—alive I The day came round, a goodly audience assembled, paying each a good entrance fee, which the conjuror promptly bagged. People seated themselves breathless with expectation, and the conjuror appeorcel upon thefstage. "Ladies and gentlemen," said he, "are you ready? What man amongst you will come up here so tbat I may eat him? The bigger the better, my appetite is sharp set. What, I nobody going to accept my challenge ? I did not calculate on having an auditory of cowards!" Stung to the quick by this epprobious word, a bale burly fellow got up from where he was sitting, and preseated himself upon tbe stage. Without being told to do so he began to strip him self of his coat, and how much else ho would have stripped himself of I cannot say, bad not the conjuror stopped him, saying, " Don't do that—my digestion is strung, IH eat you clothes and "all. Are you ready?" "Ay; fall to, my man," replied the victim. Presto I quicker than thought tbe conjuror throws a handful ot flour into the vtetitn's face and all over hia clothes. "Avast there I" shouted the victim (in French, of course), " what are you at?" "My good fellow," replied the conjuror, "don't be unreasonable. I must baste you and flavour you before I eat you," saying which ho threw a cup of treacle over the victim, who, by tbis time, beginning to divine the nature of the trtek, determined to see it ont, and not run away. Most persons would have run away under similar discipline. Now, for. the final effort, con juror lays bold of victim's thumb, and, putting it between his teeth, bites it severely. Victim roars, and drags his thumb away by main force. " What are you at?'" mildly remonatrates conjuror; "how am 1 to eat you if you don't keop still ? My way of eating a man alive is to begin at the thumb and work upwards. Here, I'll begin again " Victim did not seem to sec it, but rushed ofT the stage amidst the laughter of the audience.— Boys' Own Paper.

A good story is told about Mazziui. While the notorious Italian agitator wasin London, ho went out oue day with an English friend, and bought a lot of rusty old swords and pistols. " What on earth are you going to do with them ?" asked the Britisher. " Nothing at all," replied Mazzini; "only whoo the police hear of my purchase telegrams will be sent every where, and not a king or queen will sleep quietly to-night." And the Italian chuckled. The Proper Age.—" At what ar/e were ; you married?" asked she, inquisitively. Bnt the other woman wai equal to the emergency, and quietly responded, "Atthe ' parsonage,"

SCENE IN ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL.

A Curious Defence,

On Saturday, during the performance of even-song at St. Paul's Cathedral, the ser vice was rudely disturber, by the extraor dinary courtuct ot a man, who, by many ef the hundreds of persons present, was sup pos id to be a lunatic. About 4.30 o'clock,. just when tbe anthem was about to be sung, a rather tall, respectably-dressed man was seen to come from the nave, and with bat in hand, walk straight np the centre aisle, under tho dome, towards the choir s-olls. Having climbed over tbe cord which sketches from side to Bide, the man mouotcd ihe stone steps, and while audibly ej .culating something which waa cot distinctly heard. he proceeded up the chancel with a quick step. Canon Gregory, the Key. Mr Shuttlevvotth (minor canon), and a number of the officials of tho Cathedral.at onco proceeded after the man with all possible speed, but they were not quick enough to prevent lhe stranger from carrying out his design. Baying reached the altar, the man first took hold of the lartio cross and dashed it to the ground, then swept ..way with his arms the candle sticks and candles, and lastly dashed down the whole of the floral decorations which had been specially arranged for Easter Sun day. By • ins time the officials had arrested the man, si. that further damago was pre vented. A s'ruggle ensued, and tho man says he was induced to call for assiatauee, as he was roughly handled, and it was sug gested by one of the clergy that a pocket handkerchief should ba thrust into hia mouth. Tho man was speedily got out of the cathedral by a private door on tho eastern side of the building, aud handed over to inspector Jacobs and some city polxe constables. The damage done ia es timated ac over £50. uu lyionday, at the Mansion House, George Uampion, 38, well-dressed, who de scribed himself aa an inventor of agricul tural implements, aod as of 17, Devonshiic Square, Loudon, was brought bofore Alder man Sir Thomas Owdun, charged with maliciously disturbing tbe congregation at St. Paul's Cathedral on Saturday afternoon last, and with wilfully breaking tho orna ments on ihe communion table, the pro perty of tbe Dean and Chapter. Cation Gregory deposed that he was present on Saturday at the afternoon ser vice in the cathedral. They had just com menced singing the anthem, which would be about half-past tour o'clock, when, upon looking up from his book, he saw the prisoner racing up the choir as hard as be could ruu. Witness instantly ran out ot his stall, thinking the accused was a mad man, who was bent upon doing some mis chief at the east end of the church. As witness ran up after him, ho saw the prisoner leap upon the communion table, seize tho cross, which had been there for some 12 or 15 years, and dash it down to the ground aa hard, as he could. The prisoner then dashed down ono candlostnk to his right hand and one to his loft. Ho also began to throw down some vases con taining flowers. At that time several gentle men had reached the communion toblo. Thero were more than 1,000 persons in the cathedral nt tbo time. Upon the gentle men reaching the communion table, the prisoner said, "I surrender, I surrender," and he then jumped down from the altar, and began .ryiog, "Protestants to tho rescue I which made the witness afraid that there would be a panic in the cathedral. They did their best to stop the prisoner's cries, and they took him without violence into tbe aisle of the choir, sent for a policeman, and gave him in charge. Mr McClure asked Sir Thomas to ad jouru the case, as the prisoner had no soli euor there, aud they wished to havo ono to ucfeod bim. The pri-oner said this was a question concerning the honour ol God, and he pre ferred His help to that of any human being; ho prefened rather to-conduct his own de fence. Mr McClure said ho would appeal on public grounds for an. adjournment. If tuere was no solicitor engaged in the case, the prisoner would labour under a great disadvantage. Sir Thomas Owden :.The prisoner knows what he i» about. There is ho reason to suppose that he is insane or that he has not a perfect intellect. If he chooses to use his intellect in this way, he must put up with the consequences. Keplyiog to the prisoner, Canon Gregory said: I hist saw you when you were running up tho choir with your hat on. 1 he prisoner : Why did I call out, " Bro tfstants to the rescue ?"—Canon Gregory ; You kuo* why better than I do. I cannot tell you why. Tne prisoner: Was it not because yon were thrusting your pocket-handkerchief down my throat to choke me?— Canon Gregory : No; I was simply trying to pre veut you making a moise to frighten the congregation. 1 palled my pocket-handker chief out aud placed it before your mouth. I had no intention to choke you. The prisoner: Did I not call out " Pro teiatanta to the rescue" after yon had forced your handkerchief into my mouth ? -Canon Grc_oiy :. No, I believe it was before. The prisoner : Why wero the ornaments placed on what yon call the altar, by which 1, as a Protestant, call tbo communion table ? Canon Gregory (to the Alderman): Am I obliged to answer that question ? Sir Thomas Owden eaid he thought not. Canon Gregory s I should be very pleased to go. into all these matters, bnt it is useless burdening the case with subjects which are irrelevant. The prisoner: Are those candles not lighted on certain occasions when they are not required for purposes of giving light ? Sir 1 homos Owden said tbat also had nothing to do with tbe question before bim. lhe prisoner; But they are perfectly illegal ornaments to place in a Protestant cathe dra), and I have a perfect right to enquire whether their use is legal or illegal. Sir i homos Owden .- Then go to a court of law. If yon have any complaints as to ornaments or service in a church in yonr own parish, you must take legal proceedings,, aud take yonr cbance. When called upon for his defence, tbe prisoner said be must in tho first place pro test against tho charge being altered. Mr Gresbaro, the chief clerk, said the prisoner was charged with maliciously dis turbing the congregation at St. Paul's Cathedral, and that charge bad not been altered. .Secondly, the prisoner was charged with wilfully breaking certain ornaments on the altar, but the prosecution did not offer any evidence with respect to that charge. The prisoner asserted that he had not been guilty of any offence against tho law. Tho .*lelerman said ho would read the Act of Parliament to the prisoner, and it wonld save him a great deal of trouble.— Ihe prisoner : I should like to go on with my aefencn without interruption. Sir Thomas Owden: But you say you have committed no offenco, and I desire to put you right.—The prisoner : But I am pleading my own defence, and I must ask to be allowed to prooeod with it, I feel that

my cause: U the r,..rd's, and that I may safely eru-t to His Almighty keepiug, fie has said :- " The tirue shall com' when they shall deliver you np to be afflicted. See that ye be not troubled, for all these things must cnme to pass For many shall come in my mime saving 'lam Christ.' " Sir Tbomos Owden said he had read that rnanv years ago, snd it was no use reading it again. —The prisoner continuing, " -md ye shall be b ougnt before rulers aud kings for my sake, then shall they lead you up and deliver yon up, hut take no thought be fore-hand what ye shall speak, neither do ye premeditate ; bat: whatsoever shall he given you in that hour speak ye, for it is not ye that Bpe.K, bu, the Holy Ghost." lhe prisoner : As a defendant before a Brittsh 'Joint of Justice, I havo a right to give my defence in as complete a manner as 1 can, and 1 must respectfully ask you to give me that liberty. 1 wish to call yoor attentl m to t-.iine letters I wrote last week. rjir Thomas Owden : Do you want to prove that you ac insane, then ? - Prisoner: No, I want to state matters which have led up to this. Sir Thomas Owden said nothing could lead up io it. It was the prisoner, own act and deed, and if ho bad been persuaded to do it he must take the consequences, as it was his own illegsl act.-The prisoner said he did not hesitate to say that he was not persuaded by anj one. It was his own act, and he only wanted liberty to state his defence clearly and without interruption. Sir Thomas Q.vdeu said he could not allow the prisoner to go on with a parcel of non sense.—The pri-onei : Then _ must forego that part of ray defence, although it will pre judice my case i cry much. It is this fatal, soul-destroying Jesuitical spiritof idolatry- Sir Thomas Owdon : No, I must decline to take tha*. lam not here to be preached to ; I am here to carry out the law only.— The prisoner: If you stop me carrying out my defence, aud will not allow me to state the reasons is/by I did the act, I cannot have justice done me. Sir Thomas Owden: You had no right to commit, the act, and you can give no reason to justify it. - The prisoner : 1 have a right to make a statement in defenco why I did it. Sir Thomas Owden: You have no right to go into a place of.worship, whether Pro testant, Roman Catholic, Jewish, a meeting of the Salvation Army, or even a gathering of Bradlaughites, to interfere with them or disturb the pructcdings.— The prisoner; As au Englishman and a lover of my country and my God, I have a right to protest against Popish and idolatrous ornaments being placed ia a Protestant place of worship. (Applause.) Tnat is my groundjof defence, and if I am not al'Owed to state it I must abide by your decision. Ritualism has ruined tne, and is bringing destruction upon the country. The Alderman observed that what Ritualism hud to do -with tho prisoner in point of trade he could not for a moment conceive. -The prisoner said it had to do with him as it had to do with-us all, for God made nations as well as individuals.. The Alderman said he disliked Ritualism quite as mucn as the prisoner himself, but ho would not go into a ohurch where it was practised. He was in that court, how evor, to carry out the law, and he must do it,—The prisoner : When the Government refuses to stop idolatry it is necessary for some one tn call public attention to the frightful evil prevailing. My whole defence is us to idolatry, and it I am not allowed to state it I must loavo tho matter in your hands. Sir Thomas Owden : You.have rendered yourself liable to a penalty of £5, or, in the discretion of the Court, imprisonment for any period not exceeding two months.—The prisoner: Will you permit me to make one statement, as I am not allowed to make any defence, which I think would have amply justified the act? Sir Thomas Owden: No, I cannot take any justification. —Ths prisoner said iv that case be must lei.ye himself in the hands of tbe Court. This, however, he would say, that ho would promise not to do the aot again, as that one public act was quite suffioient. Sir Thomas Owden : Then you will pro raise not to go there or to any other chnrch and distil rb tne congregation?*- The prisoner: I will promise that. Sir Thomas owden: Then I will impose a fine instead of sending you to priaon. You must pay a fine of £5, or in default one month's Imprisonment. The lino waa subsequently paid by a friend of tho prisoner's,

A Sydney "New Ch um's" Ex periences.

Opposite the water police station in Phillips-street stands the warehouse of a largo wool-broking firm, and into this edifice tho other morning strolled a blear eyed individual who appeared to have slept out all night, and was evidently "suffering a reovory." He passed through tho lobby, and entered a large auction room, where he e-sconntered a rather atout comfortable looking gentleman, who stood with both hands in hia pockets, meditating upon the damp state of the weather. "Good mornin'.Hr. I want to take my affydavy," saiii the blear-eyed o.te "Oh, you do, do yon,?" " Yes, sir. You told mo to como tnb ntornin*, and so yer I am ; and I'd like to take this yer affydavy right off." "I tc-'d you to como this morn ing? The devil I did 1"' "Now, don't bo too hardou a poor chap, sir. You know, when 1 come to yer yesterday I was a little bit muddled, and yon told mo if I come to you tins mornin' I could take my affydavy straight off. And (so yer I am, sir." '• Well, what .you affidavit all about anyhow ?' " Why you see sir, I only come ofl the ship last week—sixteen thousand mile, sir, as sure as my namo'o Thomas Bugg, and nothin' to cat all the way, but corn bcoi and split peas—did v'everhava to live on split peas, sir?" "I've lived on less thai io time," " Lord save us, sir I You don't look it. Well sir, when I came ashore yer I was mortal thirsty ; sol went into a hotel for a glass o' beer, and a man there; asked li I thought nobody elae had a mouth only myself, so I stood a treat for all amis, sir. And then the other mv ho stood treat too; and when the drinks come, ho takes grip o' my purse and pays for.'eiu out of my money. Well sir, I didn't think that was right, and I ses so. With that he ses hang him if he'd aye anything mote to do with such a mean cove, so he puts my purse in his own pocket and walks out Well, that made me vexed air, and 1. told him ' blowcd if I wouldn't go and take a affydavy.' The next thing I kuowed sir, I gets a hoist aft, and takes a header into tho gutter. tSo yer I am sir. aud 1 want to take this nifydavy right off," '• Ah, 1 see. You're in the wrong shop, Co across tha way," Whereupon the blear eyed individual went over to the water police station to prefer his request, and repent his pathetic yarn.

Out of the twenty-six compositions sent in for tho Balfo prize ballad (tne competi tion bang linutud to natives of Ireland),Mr Edward 11, Seymour's, of Dublin, gained first prize, aud Mr Arthur E. Barrington's, of Bally-man-Bray, the second. The judge, iv his award, says :—" In many of the manuscripts there is a rich vein of melody and a laudable ambition which augurs well for the future of the writers."

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, JUNE 9, 1883.

8



One Of the most elaborate attempts at a I punning joke is told in a book entitled I " Recollections of Oxford." Dr Barton, :L Warden of Merton, gave a dinner one day, , and invited Mr Kock, of his owo college ;Mr I Crowe, of New College ; Mr Woodcock, of I Christchurch ; and Mr Partridge, of Brase- I nose, who, according to express invitation, ■ were punctual at live o'clock. " Well, gen tlemen," said the wit, " I think I have got I' almost all the birds of the air, but we must wait a little longer for one bird more." Mr Birdmore had been expressly invited for , half-past five.