HALF A SHEET.

(I-BOM TINSMV'S MAGAZINE.)

CHAPTER I. "Justa look the strife.'oogan, ji»loußy the flair;, did fan, ~,„„„ | glove's co; atßo no'MMnoo^ran, PebCV Fischer is a young barrister. His " les-ntd brethren " call him an «infernally l^cky fellow," because, unlike so many of ttem, he is not briefless. But they forget that it is in a great measure due to his own iSes and hard work that his present SSSS.K s^Jj^r? Siou^proS a&nd then his eyes-'' hi* eyes are the very worst part lAVkim" "Well, perhaps they aro SStbitl like, and W^fteSl SttSaftS T cre^oS the toe we make his acquaintance, had givYn her promise to be the fu ure Mrs Fletcher. Her nam© was Mabel Linton, oulyXd of old Linton, late of Mark Lane, SS of Derby Villa, Harrow whose prude and pretensions were unbounded. He wor shipped "Debrett" and the "Peerage andfe great ambition was toi marry Mabel to a title. It can, therefore, be understood what a blow her engagement to PWjm The intimacy, courtship, and proposal had all taken place while Mabel was on a visit to her rfeb, childless aunt, in Bmrate, and old Linton know nothing about it until tt was a fait accompli. The '* nclvchiW loss aunt" had a good deal to do with wringing a reluctant consent from Linton «cr e ,for nextto a title he loved money. Thus matters stood, when two days boforc the April morning on which wo make Percy's acquaintance, Mabel's aunt had given a dance. Mabel and her father wore to stay in tho houso for it, and Percy, ol course, received an invitation. In due course ho appeared in the ball room, and was somowhat astonished to find his younf lady whirling round tho room in the amu of a stranger, more especially as he had tole her he would come early, and asked her tt keep tho waltzos for him. As soon as thi dance was over, he went up to her anc asked to see her oard. " tVhy, Mabel, what's the meaning o. this J" he inquired, as he saw the initial- O. I. against four of the best waltzes. _" J thought you had promised them to me? «' So I had; it's all right—don't be angry, dear—take No. 9; it's only the Lancers, but we shall have time to talk." -' Well, that will do to begin with, and th en » But Mabel was borne away on her partner's arm before he had time to finish. Peroy's prido was hurt, and, in no very amiable frame of mind, he walked round the room until ho discovered a cousin of his, whom he had not met for some years. He sat lown beside her, and then the thought struck him that he could pay Mabel out in her own coin, and he put his name down on his cousin's card for a good many dances. When No. 9 arrived, and he and Mabel had taken their places in the set, matters did not mend much, for, though Mabel appeared repentant and sorry, Percy was cold and haughty, and would not give her much chance of an ex planation. " You seem to have found a very agree able acquaintance, I should say friend, this evening, Mabel. I don't think I have seen him belore, have I ? Ah, I see he s coming next to you in this set, so you will be able to continue your conversation. Don t mind me; you know we can talk any time." ~ . .. " Oh, Percy, please don't say that, it isn't like you. Something has vexed you, I knpw. It is only a friend of papa s, Lord Gerald Ivor; he brought him with us this evening, and insisted on my dancing with bim whenever he asked me. I thought you wouldn't mind, Percy, jv^you^jW it with any one, "just tho same as I am." Percy, you are unjust and cruel. 1 have saved all the other waltzes for you." 'M I. m, Bony *° tear it, for I shan't be able to have them with you, as I am en gaged for them all to that lady in blue you saw me dancing with j ust now." Mabel only said, "Very well, dear; as you like, but I am so sorry." ■ Percy pretended not to hear, and direcW his conversation to the lady on V° ieft during the remainder of the se*. On its conclusion he left Mabel in the conserva tory on the plea of having to look for his next partner. As he walked away he con gratulated himsell tbat he had been firm as a rock.-and had taught Mabel a lesson that he was not to be treated in that manner, arid yet all the time feeling very uncom fortable, and wishing he had made it up with her. For the remainder of the even ing he danced with his cousin, until iv*M>rl'" began to notice the fact. He did not see Mabel again till she was leaving the room on Lord Ivor's arm, with her father on the other sido. She gave him one pleading, loving look just as she was going through the doorway, which he pre tended not to see. He did not stay long after her departure, and as he drove home to the Temple, he began to have doubts whether he hadn't made a great fool of him i self, and whether he hadn't behaved badly towtfrd her after all. The following morn ing he half- made up his mind to run down to Harrow and make peace with her, but then the'devil within him whispered that it would bo showing a great want of firmness in so doing, and that it was her pl»co, as the wrongdoer, to plead for forgiveness, and his, as the injured party, to grant it. And so he allowed the day to go by, hating him self and all the world, thoroughly wretched and ill at ease. He expected she would write, admitting her fault. But no letter came. And now, when we see him tho second morning after the dance, he has been again disappointed. When ho came from his bedroom he found three or four letters beside.his plate, but none from Mabel. He is in a fix and does not know what to do.

" It's her place to write, not mine," he tells himself, "and yet I'll be hanged if I go through such another day as yesterday for all the pride in the world; perhaps I was wrong after all, and it was her father's doing. Poor little darling, I was wrong, and it's no good saying I wasn't. I behaved like a brute; she didn't care for that fellow, I'll bet my life on it. I'll go down to Harrow to-day. By Jove I won't it be grand making it up again, amanlium ires amoris, &c. Those old Latin dogs knew what spooning meant. But I wont stand any more of the old man's humbug, or he'll be making some real mischief. I'll run home as soon as I get a chance, talk it over with the governor, and see if we cannot ar range matters, so that I can be married this ' Long'—Hullo, I hope that's not a summons for chambers," as there was a knock heard at his door. " Well, Rogers, what is it 1" to his clerk, who entered.

" A parcel arid a note, sir." "Put the parcel-on the table, and give me the note; thank you, that will do." "From Mabel, at last," ho exclaimed, as he reads tho direction in the hand that he knows so well. " I knew she'd write, and it was just as well I didn't go down yes terday, after all."

"What's this?" ss he opens the sheet, and reads as follows ;

"Sir : After your conduct toward me at Mrs Laneham's dance, it is evident I have been mistaken in your affection for me ; your studied rudeness was remarked by many, and, after what has occurred, it is clear tbat you with our engagement to cease. Indeed, there is no other course left open, and the bearer of this will deliver! parcel containing the presents yoivA^ ye given me at various times. I awr1 -"J* that my father quite approvg-jf.™!j; 0"™ ! lam taking, and has seprf ,s letter* 9 f course, we shall not «r** to _£■*» agaln I at Harrow. I rem*"' y°"ra ' &0 T - Mabel Linton."

"Good -Heavens ! she can't mean it," is all hfl°dVs as he finishes reading, and then riteearing into the fire, lost in thought for a lonf? time without uttering a sound. Half an hour has pawed before he rises with a deep sigh; . , ' "* " Well that's all oror, I suppose, and she's no better than tlfe rest of them. A real live lord is more attractive than a stranding commoner, a\d a coronet will send true love to the rigb, about any day But I did'nt expect this if Mabel; I did think' she was true grit. Vhere are these -.precious presents I We mv money on 1 What Wl Ido with theiM *s e ll them? No, lion't think, after an,T 00 uld do that; tht were hers once. No>t. can't se3 them. 0. n foundit!

I'm getting coldish over them j there, go up on th^ fj he if_,'> putting them in an un ooc-"pied division of his bookeas'e'; '''you'll serve as a memento of where my love's been put, if I should ever want one; and now for those pleadings."

CHAPTER 11. j " She to him was over true; Lovers' quarrels love renew, So they say." Six months have passed since we saw Percy Fletcher last. And wo are once r igain in his chambers. The long vacation j is just over, and work has commenced again. , It is evening, and the curtains are drawn, a lighted lamp is on the table, and a bright , fire in the grate." Percy is sitting where we , Crst saw him, and, if we may judge by his appearance, the last few months have not . beon the happiest of his Jifo. Tho lines round his mouth have dooponed, and one or j two| crows' feet are boginning to show in. , the corners of his eyes, ho has a careworn look, and altogether he scorns aged. Oppo site to him sits his one chum, Glassdalo, ' also a barrister, who has just returned to i town, and the two friends aro talking over [ the events that have happened to each in , tho " Long." Glassdalo has lately fallen a ! victim to his cousin Milly Denver's charms, and is now pourin" into Percy's ear a long detailed account of " how it all happened." Pe^cy allows him to continue uninter ruptedly until he has finished, and then offers his congratulations. Glassdalo thanks him, and then continues, " When I wasktaying with my uncle's people lately at Brighton, I saw Miss Linton; she was down, there with her father, and Ivor was with them as their guest." "Oh I" is all Percy's reply, but an anxiois, inquiring look comes into his eyes which'iis quite at variance with the careless air he'^attempts to assume. "I spoke to her on^e or twice on the pier, and, do you know, it struck me she was greatly altered for the Worse. She seems to have lost all her spirit", and she looks far from well." "Pool little darling," mutters Percy under hii breath, and then aloud, " I sup pose she'j engaged to Ivor by now ? Not that it matters to me though." 1' No, &c isn't j .at least, I didn't hear anything \aid about it. But he means it if ever a mat did, and follows her about liko a dog. I ,on't like that fellow somehow." "Ishou'd think not: he's a downright cad. He oily wants her for her money; ovory ono tan see that," exclaims Porcy, very warmlt, and then, as if ashamed of displaying a> much emotion, he suddenly changes tnojubject and inquiros : " And ho\r did tho old scouudrel, her father, seeing " Like a be\r with a sore hoad. He will hardly speak civilly to anyono. It sooms he's got himself into a regular hole over a law affair. Ha version of the matter is shortly this : lo got some inkling that ono of the waterworks companies were going to look out for a piece of land for a new reser voir somewherl near London.' I forget exactly where h^said it was. At any rate, he wont prowlirA about, an.i found a piece belonging to a Itr Boyer that would just suit them. Thereupon he entered into negotiations witHthat gentleman, and, as he affirms, came p terms, and received a letter accepting hi offer of £6,000 for the field. The very diy he received the letter, Boyer was killed In a railway accident. Linton now applitd to hi» executors to carry out the salo, id they laugh at him, believing it to bo a mere "try on," as no vestige of anything^-elating to the trans action was found (uiong Boyer's papers after his death, e*copt Linton's letter making tho offer, n the moantime, tho waterworks have appled for the land, and offered a good deal mire than £6,000, so it isn't very likely the eJ4cutors will let Lin ton have it, more especially, and this is the finest joke, old Lintoi| can't find Boyer's letter accepting his off*, which he assorts he received. You can imagine what the old ruffian's feelings fre, seeirfg a good round sum slip through lis fingers. He has hunted high and low fir the letter, and declares some one must lave stolen it; but! my own idea is that it river existed, save] in his imagination. He sren goes so far ai I to describe it, saying itVas written on t half sheet of paper only, lid had no creit or monogram on it. Allithis must hare 1 happened just about the the your engage ment was broken off, wh^h will account for your not having heardanything about 1 - " Yes, I suppose it was aout then, for I 1 remember he was always taking about buy ; in* Bomaßie^^Mand^anVwhat, he was « to change the subject, thefe somethingf wmrtyou to do for me, and lik7to " Fire away, old man ; I'llflo it if I n~. you may b» sure." I *" " ■*• ■-' " Well, it's just thi*. ; Wl- jCnl were engaged to Miss Linton, I h--* 6 y°u Bave her, amonar things, a lock''_i ot.\ T*? ry P**cu" liar »i"*pe and pattern * admI Tl lt a S°od Jeal one evening »nen she wasfrearing it, and she tolr» me you had hd it made for her. IN ow, I want to knew ifyou would have any objection to telling mejvhere you got it, so that I might get one mdc like it, for Milly. Of course if you havejsay so at once, and I shall think no nice of the matter." " Not in the least, my dear fellcV. It ." nothing to me now. Miss Lintqiv^ent all my presents back when tb» "fjairpsme to an end, and I «•••««_:" think the tcket is an ,n. s tiiem, and if so, I shall be vry glad to lend it to you, to get one made tike it. Here's the parcel; I put it'up on thfc shelf the day they were returned and bavfnever touched it since." And Percy cuts the string, and undes tho brown paper wrapping. " There you Are, that's its case, fed I think you'll find it inside," thbwiig a leather-covered box over the table to (lass dale. - ! "Hullo! what's this t" taking ashe| of : writing paper out of the parceL ''Hire's something I've never seen; excuse n_ a moment. Percy reads for a moment-or two, and then drops into a chair, od covers his face with his hands, uttering i>t a sound. ' f "My dear fellow, what's the malteA" eagerly inquires Glassdale. '' No bad ne*s I hope?" ■•_- | " Bad news ? No, the very best n&wst ever had in my life," and it has been hiddei from me for six months. What will m little girl think of me? Just listen t{ this: ! " 'Take no notice, darling, of the lettoi you will get with this. Papa makes me write it. I don't mean a word of it. Bet, true to me as I am to you. Send a line to .' say you forgive me. No time for more, he's Com ' ,

"Look At it, all crumpled up anyhow, and shoved in under one of the cases. «"*• that he might not see it. It.'» «* clear as mud, she must have irrttten that when he wasn't looking. Read it yourself, old man, and give me joy." And Glassdale takes the letter, and having read it through, turns it over. "Why, there's some writing on the other side. She must have seized on the first piece of paper she could find. May I read it?" "Of course you may; go on." Glassdale scans the writing for a moment or two, and then bursts out: • "By the holy pokers !it never rains but it ponrs. You are in luck's way to-night. Just listen to this : "'2nd April, 187. "'DearSib: In answer to your letter just received, making an offer of £6,000 for the Holm Meadow, Fbeg to say I am will ing to accept that sum, and, if you will call on my solicitor*, Messrs Grayburn anr* Reeves, Bedford Row, on Friday morpf'S next, at 12.30, I will meet you there -A'"* j* proper contract can be drawn w v xoura trufr' j,..ks Boyer."' P, an*?. **} . 3K"JWd Linton is worrying identicaUetter tb^. ave about Give him himself into -]f£ anything for you, I that, and > ' kn°*V*never mind that letter; it's the •^irom Mabel that I'm thinking about." " " Yes, that's all very well, but look what a pull the letter on the other aide gives you. Taking the two together, the old ruffian is bound to cave in. She must have been in his study when she was packing up your parcel, and have taken tho first blank theet of paper sho saw off his dosk; probably the letter was face downward, so she^ wouldn t see the writing on the other side.' "Yes. I fancy you are right, but to morrow morning shall explain everything. And to think that all this time has been wasted through my not opening the parcel. " Well, I must go now," says Glassdale. ri«ing; "it's getting awfully late, and you'll like to be alone, I fancy. I know I should. But you'll let me take the locket, won't you ? I'll bring it you back safe.' "Take the locket by all means, my dear old boy, but let roe have it back soon, for I intend it shall revert to its proper owner very shortly. And thank you awfully, for what you have done for ,me; if it hadn't been for you, I should still have been the miserable fellow I was half an hour ago, in-

Stead o! oii'e of the happiest men under the Sun." ■ ' "

"Moon,-you Aean, considering the time of night. Well goOd-byoandgoodluck to you. When I see you again I shall expect to hear that everything is arranged satis factorily On the old footing."

CHAPTER in. " What remaineth then to tell ? ' All is well that endcth well, i '■.;;)> I So they say." " How shall I manage to catch her alone • The old fellow won't let me enter the house if he knows anything about it, that's cer tain. Let me see "—and Percy remains in deep thought until the train runs under tb3 bridge and comes to a standstill oppos<je tho platform at Harrow. His mind, « evidently made up now—there is no hgita tion or doubt visible in his face a» he gfMes away toward the hill, at the foot of which lies the Lintons'abode; But before b arrives there he loaves tho road and clanVe r8 over a gate into a grass field. This 'c crosses, and, jumping tho boundary pdge, finds himself in another field that-runs at tho back of the villa garden, Hoping as much out of sight as possible, ho s^ins the high gardon palings. In places to weather has warped and twisted the oabn Btripß some what, leaving interstices tl'ough which ho can watch all that is going>n on the other side without being scon hnself. He has not long to wait. Mabol i walking up and down the garden roadin a book, and he notices an alteration in hi since he saw hor last at her aunt's da*e< The merry, laughing light in her ey* has disappeared, und a careworn, weary epression has taken its place. The light-birted girl seems to have been merged in he thoughtful and harassed woman. Buthe has turned down the side path now, an must pass within a few feet of him, is heart beats till he can almost heart, his breath comes short and fast, and htrerables violontly as ho watches her apoach. The moment has come—a step orwo backward—a short run—a scramble, a* he is standing on the path in front of bei "Percy!" is al^he says; but her face turns ashy pale, oi she trembles violently. \ Tho shock "8 to much for her, and she ; would fall die h?ot catch her in his arms. He half leads ha'cames her to a seat that ' is close by, and >acing her on it, fans her with his hat un'sho recovers a little. "My poor dfing, can you over forgive mo all tho pa'and misery I havo caused you?" ho ask " What must you. havo ' thought of m^ever having been near you ' all this time? \ " Oh, Percpapa. He 11 see you. Ho s . in tho drawL*room. You shouldn't have "Nevor f& papa, darling; leave him '. to mo. H* k° K'aci enough to soe- me, I'm siirc. at y°u aro ? I must know you "There'B n 0 no°d to -ask, is there/ .' Percy ?" n<^ ncr rosy cheeks and smiling eyes spe,inore eloquently than her lips— ' those Hr which are immediately, silenced after a ) 8r'8 fashion. • ( ••B u )tay, befdre I say another word, tell me this true that I hear of you—are I you eVged to Lord Ivor? Toll me , plainl child. If it is is they say, it is ; only iUB t punishment on xi», and I must I'jngaged to Lord Ivor ? No, I nevor ' rouibe engaged to any me—" ; "xcept me," he interupts " Thank j Onnor that. I might hive k, o wn it all ; alo^r, and so I should bare dom if I ha* ' on'seen your lottor." Scon my letter ? .. ' > { Yes, the ono inside tho jlrcelof piosents. ' To one you sent soparaily I novoi can ' cl yours. Itwasyourfalei-'s." . 1 " But didn't you see thether ? "Never until last mgt. 1 pmt the .arcelaway on the shelf nopenod, whore t would have been now hatt not been for kn accident. Can you Me my conduct RSSSft r Aye, freel^fl have any thing toVgive. At first_thought there must bo somo mistake, andien J remem i bered what took-pla.ee at je ball, and I s:«uV M tsS»g*Si-"S ESc^e^**-' that e\emng. »» j a d ,t was my Lord Ivor was papas fc . «dI 7 duty to dance with hug so nd .gj i papa had told 'no 'f nd a i itt le un i when I saw you we% gt . af , mjt y^ doaf reasonable-ana y<J n j B i, yol , f or a t^mo t _-I determined t6, r two j never in • but only for a Oarbhat night anything J ts^^ 6! m \when J Baw y°u f with that la" fwent OoOTHU,eanB^ y [ and hoitAr you have L tho. more' S,*f 1 you ;_9Br»f 'y v c as well may be,-, arlin „ it j. forgiven long a & . and J as foff-'"^* » blue, she was m y : oUßin onl ho&dy.n you should notkno\; tattho t; me ,°S k T ££! never seen her from -(, a t ovenine t blot that miserable tin, out from ot* 6-H a 0 at once and for ever. And now about Lord Ivor. me "I have little to tell you, oxcept that has been kind enough to asv m 8 to mart him, and I have said No. Hoig a gentle nan in evory sense of the wort, an d took my answer at once, and I don't suppose I shall ever see him again We said«)odbye at Brighton, so I think, dear, we m\y blot him out, too, as he has-indirectly beta the cause of all wo have suffered. Hays you suffered, Percy ? But, 1 there, I won't t*ase you. I havo no wish to lose you Again now that I " "■'■:■ *-'.':. MiTTv.! " So, sir ! Perhaps yo»/tf hive the good ness to toll me what all this means ?" And Mr Linton suddenly stands before the as tonished lovers, almost bursting with sup pressed indignation and rage. His face is purple, his oyes starting out pf. his head, mud his fingers nervously claapings a thick oak stick as if he -meditated an immediate attack on the objoct.of his wrath. He had approached round "the bushes unob served by either of them. "I have an idea that my daughter wrote you a letter some months since returning.youthe presents'you had done hor the honor to give her, and at the same time putting an end; to your en gagement; also intimating that your future, presence at this house was neither expected nor desired. Was that not so? If lam wrong, pray correct me. AiiA. yet I now find you with my daughter in a position that de mands an instant explanation." ■_•"'' For wheriMr Linton appeared so suddenly Percy's arm was round Mabel's waist. ;«Ms, disengaged hand had mado close prisoners of both of ;bers, and the two re sitting rather closer together than "ne siza 0I the garden seat led one to-^PPOBB was actually (necessary. -~ \ ~,;' *' •• ■• '<■ :'< '■■'■' '■'' '■'■•-'■: J " Sir," , convinced Percy, rising, and1 lutandinp unabashed by the litte

standing really v encashed by the att c jnan'a |Virtuousi indignation, -while the Jttightef that sjiarkles in his eyes shows hat hefeels himself master of the situation, iid is meditating some prank—"allthat yju hale slated is perfectly correct, but t^ere ac times when it is every man's duty ttlay aide all personal feelings, and under lie alduty, howeyerldisagreeable it may b'l ii>' order to benefit'his fellow man. Sib i> my case at the present moment;" -Kiy. sir, have theigoodness to cease thii, tomfoolery, and leave my garden this insfat. How you entered it lam not in a po/iton to say, but I strongly sugpect you oLiniered over the fence, inwhichcase you btvalaid yourself open to acriminal proso- ' iutioi. But let that pass and leave my ' premies this instant. Do you heat me,. < Sir ?" " '" "' ' ' ••I 10, sir, and if I followed yottr instrt/.. 1 tions V would regret thiiimoment to the I en rf of your life. I repeat, i r , that there : .re timfs When it is—'' \ ' '' Wil you leave my ground, sir ?" "No,\l will not, until yia have heard ' what I hive come to ttll you.l i " Theijl will have you turnH out." J " Excite me, sir, but I doit think you will. It! alt right, darling,! turning to ■'.< Mabel, wk> is pulling his cat tails, en- _! deavourin^ to induce him toltop. "Mr r Linton is".naturally a little arprif.ed at' seeing me to "unexpectedly, and\ can quite < understand, his irritation and <Wl o ofe it, < but I can tesure you, dear, weUall not « part until we are the best friends Visible." 1 " Sir I" yells the little riian, almit white I with passioii " you had the importance— ' the gross impertinence—to addi% B ray 1 daughter as jour darling and your dV." .1 "I did so, sir, and I am proud a\d de- j lighted to f 001 l have a warrant for so fcing. ' But, as I said Wore, it is my duty tiput J all personal faAJingt-aside and come ati n ce _ to business."' \ \ "Your business is at once Ju-^„ ve - 1 \ j premises, and ii you dont get outi-^i^ < you out —there.) , . _ "\ ~\l '" My dear'sir, pray be calm, such exo*.. uient as this cannbtbe good for you. Lt to proceed—" ", „ A "Out of the garden- . - \ _ • • No, to business; I have been inform-* that you are at present engagea .in a la* suit, in which your chances of success at ?his moment aro anything but rosy. NowA sir, supposing-mind I only say supposing! -I were in apposition to make your chance of a verdict an absolute certainty; what would you say to.me then?- „„ m _ lofA The little man's face undergoes a complete change at these words," his eyes glisten, and his stern and wrathful expression flaxes.

"If you.could only afford me some infor mation as to the whereabouts of the letter I have lost I. would look upon you as the dearest friend—" and then, as if remember ing who he is addressing, his face again assumes its former angry look, as he bursts forth afresh, "But this is all nonsense :■ I know, you well .enough; it's a mere excuse to remain in this garden. But, sir, under stand once for all I wou't have it. So clear out it once. And, Mabel, you come with me I am surprised and excessively ari n«yed to find you talking to this—this jentleman." ■ •

I " Stay a moment, Mr Linton, and let us come to an understanding. I give you my word of honour that I can be of material service to you in this matter. But I shall require from you some reward. Are you prepared to give it—yes or no ?" , . : The little man now begins to see from Percy" manner that it is not a joke, and that he is in sober earnest. ../.->

" Well, sir, if you can prove your words you will not find mo ungrateful, I think, How much shall you require ?"■ "Not one farthing of money, only the hand of your daughter." This calm request onco more upsot the equanimity of Mr Linton, and he is just about to break out again when Peroy stops him with "Gently, sir, gently; remember we aro talking business now. Do you, agree to my terms ?—otherwise we need not prolong this interview." Mr Linton seems unwilling to allow the business to end thug, and yet is hardly prepared to capitulate sounconditionally. " Well, sir, you see in this matter I am not the chief poison concerned; my daughter's happiness is involved." "If that is your only objection I think you may make your mind easy. What do you say, Mabel ? Will you allow your hand to be the price of the information I possess?"

Mabel's answer is clearly in the affirma tive, for she rises at once and places both her hands in Percy's without Baying a word. *' You see, sir. Have you any further objections to make ?"

"No, if my daughter is willing to make a sacrifice for her father's sake, I shall not forbid her. I had other plans for her future, but thoysoem likely to fall through, so I have nothing further to say, except that tho sooner you enlighten me on this mysterious matter the better I shall be pleased." " Quito so, my dear sir. I will keep you no longer, in suspense," and Percy draws a lottor from his pocket arid hands it to Mr Linton. '.'Will that be of any service to you. do you think?" Mr Linton glances at it for a moment. ''Good Heavens! The lottor I havo boon searching for all this time; now I've got 'em, I must win now; nothing can pro vent it. The game's in my own hands— this is grand. But, my dear Fletcher, bow come this letter in your possession ? nn! what was tho reason of your keeping it conceded for so long ?" -, " Mabel here <willbe able to answer your first question, I think, if you will show her tho letter,'and as to the second, I was unaware that I had it until last evening. Look at it,-Mabel, and tell us what you know about it," handing her the letter, which ho takes from Mr Linton, at the samo timo turning it over so that she may see hor own handwriting. She starts, and her cheeks are tho colour of poppies in an instant. "Oh, Percy!" she gasps, "I hain't a notion of this. Hew could I havo beon so stupid, but I remember I was in papa's study whon I packod the things up, and in a great hurry for fear ho should come back, and I seizod the first bit of paper I could lay my hands on, and I suppose I took this by mistake." "Well, dear, it will be a lesson to yqu in future not to return the presents I give y»u," says Percy laughingly. " Why, child, what is the meaning of all this ? \t h a t have you been doing ?" „ " Papa, I must confess; I have been the culprit alt along. When I sent back Percy's, •presents I put a little note in of iriy'own, brides the one you made me write i and I atpu a piece,of paper from, your tfesk to tv," l *l on' on-- * think Imust have taken ,? v ira ""'take; lam very sorry." . ~^ 0" '**•* baggage, and so I have gofc; win ? {'"".K1"1 ffly anxiety and worry : r„mi ~}t "-55S tA U •"•ST. «nee it has "all XlMi*^* But I am inclined to feel grateful to"l?W„ r {or offoring to relieve mo of such a danggi, }IS p ° rt ° b( f {or6 you do me any worse mischioi. jj& .. into the house now, and we'll ebink cou fusion to old Boyer's executors." i

Time has hurried on since that morning when -we saw the trio in the garden at Harrow. Old Linton did win his case, and the other evening when I was dining with Percy I observed bis wife was wearing a locket of a very peculiar pattern,

Life in Naples.

The English are an adventurous people, therefore it will surprise no one to learn that a band of young doctors and many: amateur philanthropists besides havo sot out for Naples to study the best means, not f curing the cholera, which now must have 'Aourge, but to cure the diseases of dirt *MNtarvation by whioh-the cholera has ■"y»v rendered. The reports sent home destitutii? "UoWub taje/bf the want and readme tfi* tho placo that it seems like: Carthage wh.P-jSB M' th* ;history ;efj hutre pit in w h l (iesoriDeß the horrors of the mercenaries matf he P"soner ß the Roman starvation amid ? enJ_ lt <» perish of Hon into which, \" fch .*-Dd, *-orruP: with broken limbs™. won"aed and thrown. An entirely'^ *ftfoiT n .been .shed ,npo».tto oTM **s .Neapolitans. 'Prejudicehss aate 7 '? £'A of having absolutely invited th^ n *X their laziness'arid dirt; Mt atSBf ra *J y the account sent to England this 1S& S to be false. The working classes of %°ZfZ Work longer and for less pay than i„ other in Europe. The misery -of the lal' zarone which is beheld in the face of day asleep in the hot sun—is nothing oompared to that of the working man which is hidden n the shade. The wages of tjho tailors and s-onemasons are the same—one lite a day »n -rdinary times, arid one lire arid a-half in rh Bat" lf, pros?er!t.v; »nd yetit. is observed umu fashionable young men? <.r jxapies re better dressed than those °* th 6. -est- of.: Italy. The - Best gu°r eS 1° are made at Naples, although mal< onl - eightpenwt ,day. The inferio. trades are all paidhaf alireaday of twehvjj 0 „ rB « E «-~ ■ The Neapolitan nwdaer&fe isi'a far different being to^our V™ Anne in Eng land. She is paid ten lire her dinner; sometimes.she in, to faverse the : whole city "to: get to her w^ i n the morning, she has tb.jun up and di^m i one flights of stairs the" whole, dayffe e to draw water from the well iri:the yard, m B _ carry up the pails. Sl^e has ;in. general n« food to eat, nor time,'to est a meal even if .she had provided orieJ Examples continually occur wherein the poor woman comes home so tired .at night that, like the children > formerly em ployed in the cotton factories; she sinks upon her bed and sleeps too souhdjy to be awakened even- for,-the mesßofiiean por ridge, her only foolS«U, DooTfonTen, says the report, at thirty years ol aaa appear more than fifty. : They look 'so darty and disconsolate that the stranger'turns from them with disgust. They are forced to wear, the same clothes:for years; the. ai^ori is'only changed once ih three morith'sV They never complain, but move slowly forward v thoir fate, dying before forty iri' the hospital. i t i s amongst them that the doaths from CMera have been the most numerous. ,-..,.

But it is the pitablb state .'in which the children aro left which ma.-g t j, o hearts 0 f the young Englishmen bleeih a. boy often ; will be made to work like a borst._to fetch and carry all day long from one eno. 0 f the city to the other, to draw heavy loads, to carry h«avy burthens—for the mere supper of bean porridge given him at night; the poor mother can only give him a son to buy a scrap >of bread t«. stay his stomach in the day; while the poor little apprentice girl can never by thib the hardest labour earn more than five sous a week, arid for the most part they are suffered, to r«m about the streets the , whole day. lon» .it j fl this peculiar form of human debasement that Mrs Schwabe,"_ of Manchester, has undertaken to rectify. Her work at the Collegio Medico, given to her. for the pur pose t>y the. Government, is progressing "^-"•fe favourably. This brave lady has spent tflets ,<M ortune *■" recla' min k from the hitherto Wt*#ji^-$ fo^je.children the causeway. +¥d,rt and depravity of blessed, for the poor'^f work has .been opposed all connection Wflff. who at first lodv " now come in crowds, an*?,, foreign their'children taught somo Jpcen|°.-T which shall keep, them from tl, _£ W<*| aye endured themselv«s. r 'A ; -u«!

WANTED A WIFE.

A COLLEGE TALE.

(FKON^'TIME.")

Jack Hornby, of Brazonface College, Ox ford, Had just finished Ills usual after-break fast pipe on the last day of the summer term, 1880, when his attention was arrested by a sharp rap at his door, immediately fallowed by the entrance of the well-dressed person of his college friend, Methven..;

■ - VCome .along;in," said'Hornby, "and light yourself a pipe. "No, thank ye, can't stop," replied Methven, "as I have a lot to do this morn ing ; but I thought I would just run across to tell you a bit of news. I have just arranged a glorious hoax at tho ex ponse, I neod hardly say, of old Crofton, ho has become too cute lately to be caught by our old time-honoured jokos, and so I have arranged the following . plan. A week ago I inserted in the agony column of tho "Morning Advertiser" a glowing matrimonial advortisoment, in which I stated that the advertiser, who was handsomo, rich, and all that sort of thing, desired to moot with a pretty, accomplished girl with a view to matrimony. All ap plicants wore to send their photographs; the replies to be sent to H. C, 151, St. Gilos', Oxftirtl—that's the house where my scout lives, and so, of course, I told him to bring me any letters thus addressed. I got no reply for a day or so, but four days ago I received a; letter from a certain damsel, who described herself as young, handsome, and accomplished, enclosed me the photo graph of a very pretty girl, ended by asking me where and when I should meet her in town, and signed herself Miss L. Bernard, Piccadilly Circus Post :■ Office; she also expressesd a desire to have the advertiser's photograph, so I promptly sent her that of old Crof ton's, which ho had lately given me, and said I would write to-night when and where I should meet her; so my scheme is, to some how induce Crofton to moot this girl; She will of course recognise him by the photo graph I have sent, will probably rush into nis arms, the Kangaroo will be utterly overpowered, and there will be an interest ing denoumeiU. Now, Hornby, don't you think that a magnificent piece of strategy ?" " No, indeed 1 don't," Baid Hornby. " I think it an infernal shame; and, what's more, I have half a mind to go'and tell the Kangaroo of the hoax." " Oh, come now," said Methven, "you'd nover do that, Jack, 1 know. Well! I can't stay any longor, so gqod-byo.for the pre sent." There is not the very slightest doubt that if the fates had not intervened, Hornsby would have gone straight to Crofton and warned him of tho impending hoax, and this story would nover havo been written ; but as it happened, no sooner had Methven gone out of Hornßby's rooms, than in rushed the secretary of the College Cricket Club in a state of breathless anxiety;. there was a match at 11.30, it was now 11 o'clock, and he could only get together eight mon. So Hornby was promptly enlisted, and by the time the match was overj Methven and his scheme1 had entirely faded from his riot too retentive memory. Methven, in the meantime, had gone straight to Crofton's rooms. Now, this Crofton, who was about to fall a victim to Methven's wilos, was tho son of a large Australian sbeopfarmer, and had come up to Brazenfaco the previous October. Like most colonists who havo not been to school in England, ho was very simple and unsophisticated; and though tho Kangaroo, as he was generally called, was very popular, he was constantly being made tho victim of small practical jokes, most of which were originated by Mothven, who ; was the professional hoaxer of Brazenface. Ho always forgave them heartily, and joined in the laugh himself, 'HoWeVef, his one Wear's residence in College.had ..opened .his eyes a little, and being naturally anything but a fool, his friends found it not quite so easy \o take hjmin now^it used to be, and several'attemptS having lately failed, Methven, to sustain his dwindling reputa tion as a joker, had concocted the plan he had just disclosed to Hornby. He found tho genial giant busily packing his traps ready for go^ng down tho next day.' After chatting a jnomeVt or, two tjfo tempter; began-?- . ' •, -- > ■ ' As you're going up to town to-morrow, I want you to do mo a little favour. I promised to owjt a girl, a cousin of mine, to-morrow. Wo u».d each got an order for the Houso ol Commons, and I was to have escorted hor, and.as we j3r«*nriiifiS haYS a little lunch together at Lucas's" Mom We jwent in, we had arranged to met mt- a ■'auarter-past two at Westminster Bridge landing pier, that being a place where we couldn't possibly miss one another. Now, as bad luck will have it, the dean has sent for me to see him after collections, so that I can't get up to town in time. Unfor tunately, I can't let the girl know, because she's away on a visit for a day or two to some friends, whose.address I have_ forgot ten, and she won't return home till after she's been to the House. Now, I don't want the poor-child to wait an-hour forme;, so would you mind- going there about a quarter post two and telling her can't come because of that beastly "dean ? And so that .you can't - tnistako : her, ; I've, brought -yqu :%er photograph., By-thel-ny.e, 'her name's Miss Bernard.^ Now*willtbifl'be;too muoh trouble for yott.?": ...... ■_■.... -A.:-.,.-' . > -'- Oh, riot a bit," said Cfoftjiri. "I shall be dolightcd." " Wfllf ;ror|iei^bor,;_Westminster landing pier.Tindra quai^r-tast.two";!'. Andrew. goodtbye.and'a pleasant;'long;' to you.'' . . Methven, highly elatedwith the result of • hik scheme,, immediately,, wrote a notato Miss L, Bernard that H. C. would moot her at tjiei" Westmtosteif "Bridge pier, at a; quarter-past-two punctually, and that she! must come upandspeak tohihi.if she say \ him'first. "• '•'■■"- - 1; '.'-A-.-'.' '__&£*** Thp next nibrning Crofton, having, under gone that dread ordeal called "collections/1 having been, bullied ,» alternately ;lby the t-inoipal, tshei .Deahi'and the senior tutor, oniriid- off "to the station and just managed; to oiiljoh tho mid day express .Up toAtbwtti On hiSflffivil, leaving liis traps atan,boteT£ he rushed off tb>Westmins_£er Bridge, laijid-; ing plor wjd arrived there' within a minute v" iHQ °';tne appointeo^s|ie. There were but. . w.*-__.*'e it when he arrived, arid certainly^ one >^l,j in th „ slightest degree; the. .photograph ■&^ Mv Methven's cousipAr.'He looked? up: and-flown im% naA* there" was" bnly.one yOung lady theio, antf she wasn't in the least like the photograph, She! was standing close "to the ticket offioojvholding!-:theAhahd of ■a-littlej'bo^ of fen or'so^nd she seemed to.-watcn Crofton^ssvlth- an - amused "smile as jHa impat|,e^tly (walked up and down,-»looking now »t'_ber watch .and-nbw^ at the Parlia ment;"^[6^Tower; ' x'!, The lirofe boy, in the meanfjpe, getting tirred of waiting hadt slipped aw^yiWSpStJtlie"protecting chain!' round, tho Side; anjl began to play with a little tlog that was Vaguely roaming about, The jfeng lady afil -not miss him, and when Crof to* happened to turn 'he --■*. saw the; child,,fniffissng^3» 'avoid ; a sudden bount} of the dog, scramble and fall over the pieri|sto theijiyot- .Thechildyelledjthe girl (Shrieked, ana the dog -barked ; for sympattty»»<bni^Crofton,:^«ihoAf6rtuhatelyl; jhad plenty of presence of mind and was a «aod strong Jswimmer, dived quietly into the >»«*«,, caught.up u« chad in a couple of strokes, and jn a very *!,„,.,. time had ire^tored his dripping burden to the young lady. She wasj of course most grateful-to ■him forliavipg! saved Hhe life of her little brothfer (for so the child turned out to lie), and, as Crofton put thorn ?in a cab, she asked him to call on them at home and give her parents an opportunity of per sonally, i thanking; 'him; Crofton at first pooh-poohed -the-idea- of being thus made a hero of, but there was a pleading look in her pretty eyes which quite overcame his scruplos; and, having ascertained that her father was" a'Mr West, and lived at 136, Cavendish Square^ lie promised to call there the following afternoon. And, as there was still no sign of Miss Bernard, and as be *Was dripping wet, he hailed a passing cab and refcurnedtohiß hotel. '" V The next day. according to his promise: he called at 136, Cardial Square, and was received most kindly b>.Miss West, his acquaintance of yesterday, o_ d her mother, an old lady, who thanked him taost volubly for having saved dear Bertie's life, who, she added, was none the worse for the ducking was at that moment in bed, with a I'?J?W" pi*?ter on his cheat and a basin of &™L&- hu* ,B!*V* (Probably thinking the fc ,p4^ffifc-" infiDitel""efer- :> Of course Croston was invited to stay to dinner, so as to *,eet Mr West, wholW-1 not return from busin^^- l _^ a,rfltfT six. About jh^——riimrae his now and a jfaco."Jltor dinner, as he arid I rf^v were disusing a bottle of '34 port, vr West found at from the simple-hearted fallow that he JB a native of Australia, f-nA I that,-thou? he- was happy enough a ■ a term-tinl- with his college chums; i he found it ver#uU during the vacation,

having but few relations and friend's in the old country; and so Mr West, liking the honest, ■ manly lad, and feeling, of course, intensely grateful to him for having saved his child from drowning, invited nim to spend a month with him at his shooting lodge in Scotland. Crofton, being passion ately devoted .to sport, snapped at the offer; -and so it was arranged that he should go up to Mr West's shooting-lodge, in Cromarty, on* the 11th of August. To this day he swears that the month he spent at Balbriggan Lodge was the happiest time of his life—good sport, nice men in the house, and, ah I far best of all, the society of Lilian West. At first it struck him that she looked upon him ] for some reason-or other as rather a puppy, which considerably surprised him, for whatever his faults might be, conceit was certainly not one. But as time went'oh, and she-had plenty of oppor tunity of seeing what a modest, sterling fellow he was (besides being the best shot of the party), the feoling seemed to pass away, and soon gave placo to a sincere regard, Sunday afternoon rambles through the heathor, cosy chats in the gloaming after dinner, lessons in the mysteries of " go bang," and chess, have brought together less susceptible hearts than those of Harry Crofton and Lilian Wost, and the day before he was returning to England he pluoked up courage, pro posed, and to his delight was accepted. The next morning, however, just before starting home, Lilian came up to him, and said— " Harry, dear, before you go I want you to forgive me for the silly joke I played you about that advertisement." "Advertisement," said he; "what ad vertisement ?" "Why, the one, of course, you put in the '(Morning Advertiser.'" Crofton looked very mystified, and again shook his head. "0, edme now, Harry," replied Lilian, "it is not a bit of use your trying to decoive me ; do you mean to say you didn't put the advertisement in the 'Morning Advertiser ?'" and so saying she drew from her card nose a small newspaper cutting and handed it to Crofton, It ran as fol lows :— " Wanted a Wife.—Tho advertiser, who is strikingly handsome, very accomplished, and extremely handsome, very accom plished, and extremely rich, wishes to meet with a* young lady with a view to matri mony. She must be good-looking, amiable, and accomplished. Applicants must for ward thoir photograph and address.—fl. C, 151, St. Giles, Oxford." "Never seen it before in my life," eaid Crofton. "And you never % wrote this ?" continued Miss West, handing the'last letter from H. C. to Miss L. Bernard, appointing the place and time of meeting. "Most certainly .hot, it's not a bit like my handwriting. Couldn't write so well if I tried for a month."

"Well, Harry, you must at least 'own that this is your photograph." " Good gracious, yes !' . replied Crofton, "that's mine, sure enough; but who oil earth could have sent it, and why to you of all people?" " Oh," said Lilian, " I'm afraid you will think mo very, very silly, but when I read that advertisement, I longed, I simply yearned—for I'm very, curious, Harry, as you'll soon find out—to see in the flesh the human being who could be so consumately conceited as to frame an advertisement liko that; and so I replied to it, directing my loti^r from the post office at Piccadilly Circus and signing myself by a fictitious name. I also sent the photograph of a pretty little maid I once had ana next day received the . photograph and letter you have just seen. So, with Bertie as my companion, feeling sure that the advertiser couldn't possibly mistake me for original of Paaker's photograph, I went to -the Westminster landing pier at the ap pointed time. Imagine my delight, then, ..when I saw you, the originolof the photo graph, stalkipg rip.and down the pier, ap- Saren*|ly ■ awaiting the faithless damsel. >ut, Harry dear, if you did not go to meet me, why inthe world did you go the pier at that very (time?" '"'" I went on a commission," said he, " for a college friend of mine, named Methven." •" What 1 Mr. Methven, of Brazenface ?" said she. " Why, yes; is ho a friend of yours !." {" Oh, I only met him whenjstaying in the ! country last j Christmas; , and I think, i Harry, he liked me better than I did himf" ' "Well," continued Crofton, "I wont there to mot a cousin of his, and to give her a message from him, but I have a shrewd idea this is one of his practical jokes ho to always playing." "But, tell too, how were you to know this young lady, Harry »" said Lilian. " Ho showed me a photograph by which I was to recognise her." ""Wna it that of a pretty girl with a large hat and toother, and a fan in her hand ?" said Lilian, witt. a smile. " The very same," Crofton. "Then, Harry, you are quite right, it was a practical joke, for that Parker's photograph which I sen*, to the mysterious Mr H. C. And now, Harry dear, it's not a bit of use getting angry about it, for we were both 'sold.' a little, and it has ended . very happily for you and me ; and bo we will make ajpromise not to chaff one another: in the future for the. parts we each played in the strange little '"' Comedy of Errors."? I need hardly say Crofton sealed the bar gain with a kiss. aI" ■■*, V When Harry fioxtroturnod to Brazonf ace the October -.term had", begun. Port Meadow was flooded, the elms outside St. John's wefe rapidly.losing their leaves, land the creeper on St, Mar y 's porch was in all the glory ,6f its autumh. foliage.' Crofton.ar rived", first tfay; of term* justin time for "hall," arid as he was finishing his' dinner,■ the scout who waited on tho third-year .table, handed \ him -the following brief - epistle, scrawled on the back of the. dinner bUl.:— -&A*® ;, A.., '"-'-;/"■-,■. A ' '_'* Dear Kangaroo,—Gome\tq.my rooms direotly after 'hall,' " Yourse*e«V ■:■ . ~ , "J.'Hobnby.'A./ -Scatter "hall" Crofton went straight to Hornby's^ rooms, and,found, him uncorking ahottle of college port,} aridlover this bottle, soothed by the fragrant We^d; Harry:'Crof>: tontold-Hornby the story, of his love; the ' Whole? tale-^-how it. happened, and what a very lucky dog. he: Was,. He had just : finished his narrative, when a knock came at the door and in walked Methven, just arrived. ''''■' '''A*" ''.■_' . ' X, •y\ '' A' How,*l'ye do rj Jack }.. Hillo, Kangaroo, how are jou, old chap fr." .ho. began. '. ; -M 4Sut. somehow, the look,on; Crof tori's face Methven had noyex seen before, and what's more, didn't liko it. '.';_ AHowever/ he- continued?'", Well, did you meet my ; cousin,.eh? '; Coin'ei come," old; chap, you must really forgive me, jt was a

beastly'shameil own." "A, .. | A'_ _~-_-_j£"Now, look.;here," said Crofton, quietly i."-r*Hi'd there was artotgly look in his eyes, arid a firmness in. his jaw -that made, Methven unconciously creep near the door -^-'ll'idon-'t ;warit to have a row with any man, much less in Jack Hbrnby'r rooms. But I. tell you plainly, . I "think it was awfully low, of you to take. advantage"* 6|*7ttyi.#)Od;! nature -in the way. yont did—-.and T': "strongly^ ad vise •_• you; for thefuture, if you like a whole ekfe; not to try-thel; game oil again;. I may tell you," your scheme entirely failed; and*|flß -en* tirely through your attempt at a hoax I have become engaged to the nicest little girl in England." "Roaiiy," oald Methven with a sneer, "then I think the least you can do is to in troduce us, as she may possibly Ijke to mike the acquaintance of the unconscious author of her happiness." . s . " Perhaps she mighti'"' replied Crofton quiety, "if she hadn't unfortunately made it before. Good night, Jack," and so say ing he left the room.' •':!■; " There, Methven," said Hornby, I" I know quite well some row would como of this hoax of yours," V Well, tell me what happened, Jack, if you know." Thereupon Hornby told the wholo story from beginning to end. When he had finished, Methven said—>• •'.■ '.r

i <• ".I wonder who the ; girl was, and when And where she met me." '■<■ ,' "Of course, I can't tell you the latter," said Hornby, as he walked up to the chim ney-piece to refill his pipe, " but. her name, if I remember rightly, is Miss Lilian West* Hornby heard a sharp groan, an<* * looking round saw Methven as w^ 1*8' sheet, with his head buried in l»P «" cried "Good God, man, wh- Hornby. ..aethven, " that's the "Oh, Jack,"s<"mveelf. I met her last very girl 11^ c0 J utl try, wdj^pwtf Chnstrgjg JWL _ 3M «» tTlt ti^tfiese rwbTdj he Hornby to pordery deeply on the strange irony of fate." / Two; years have rolled on, Lilian West j now the wife of Henry Crofton, B.A M Brazenfaee College/Oxford. And Methvi has long since come to the conclusion tit there are safer modes of playing practtl I jokes on one's'friends than 'by inserting*! j the papers fictitious matrimonial adverts- I ments. J, RanW '

AN AMERICAN VIEW OF LIFE IN LONDON.

SMALL EARNINGS OF WAGE* ■WORKERS.

The High Cost of Food.-A Cheerful

Struggle for Existence.

[Trom the *' San Francisco Chronicle."]

' LoNDC-ir, September 29, istiiA Dußi.sa the years that I resided in the United States, years that.l shall always count as having been among the happiest of my life, I frequently heard people grumbling about the hardness of the times, the growth of monopolies, the arrogance of the wealthy, and the usual concatenation of more or less imaginary evils that dis satisfied people all over the world are so fond of expatiating upon. No doubt there are thousands of these grumblers still strolling around in the land of free dom, and for their 'benefit I propose in this letter to show that every man who-has to earn his living, I care not whe ther it be with his hands or his head, is infinitely better off to-day in America than in this country. To begin at the bottom of the ladder, and first of all deal with the question of wages, the agricultural laborer in this country is rarely found to be earning 16s. a week. I was recently spending a few days at Hastings, in Sussex, and during my stay at that fashionable watering place I took occasion to visit a small town, Win ehelsea by name, boasting some 900 inhabi tants. The population of the miniature town and the surrounding district is purely agricultural, and exhaustive inquiry among the farmers and hop-growers there residiug satisfied me that 12s. per week' was a fair average of the earnings of at least two thirds of the population. . Of this 125., never less and often more than 2s. goes for rent, ,

TWO DOEL'ABS A WEEK. In three cases I found a man and his wife with upwards of six children, none of whom were as yet able to earn anything, subsist ing upon 10s per week.. Now, ye grumb lers^ just reflect for a moment. How | would you feed1 arid • clothe yourselves, much less your j wives and families, on 10s per week? In this same tiny town there, are two butcher's shops,.and I found the I prices of meafr'to be as follows;— Prime parts of beef,- Is per [pound ; inferior parts, lOdper pound; cuttings, that is to 'say, odd: bits' chopped off here and there to render the prime joints .more-sightly, 7d per pound. A loaf of bread.weighmg four pounds costs 6d; vegetables are a trifle cheaper than, in America, and. bacon and ham are each about;' 4d a pound dearer. Now, theri, how on earth do those unhappy people keep body ! "and '.' s'Ohl '• to gether? I am bound to confess that the conversation I had with several of them left the impression on my mind that they were

tolef-ably well satisfied with their surround ings. Sometimes they got a little meat. "Once a week?'' I queried. "Oh, no; not once a week. Perhaps, take it all the year round, once in three weeks." Bread and cheese appear to be their staple food, and,on Sundays a slice or two of bacon graces the anything but. festive: board., Almost without exception these poor hinds aro .regular attendants at the grand old church standing in tho middle of the town, and 1 can vouch, from personal experience, that they raise their voices in thanks to the Almighty for the benefits they enjoy in far less; uncertain tones than their wealthier brethren, the farmers, hop growers, and few;private gentlemen who honour Win cheleee by making it their dwelling-place. SKILLED LABOUK. Now let us see haw skilled labour is re warded in this great country. A good car penter, a thorough master of his trade, is exceptionally fortunate if he can'mako 48s a Week, and for this amount he will have to put in an honest ten hours' work a day. As a matter of fact, two-thirds of the car penters in this country do not earn 32s a week, vfhije,a.bricklayer who makes 34s a ? week fa-envied by* his fellow-labourers'. A' man who drives a team and works f rem six o'clock in the morning until eight at night is considered us..doing, fairly- well if his weekly wage'amounts to 80S* Puddlers, who face the blazing furnace for hours at a stretch, iii some low instances make as ;muoh as..£3 per week, but there are very |few ; worksin England that are at present 'running at full time. Leaving the ruder form of manual labour, let us glance for a moment at the earnings of skilled artisans. A pianoforte maker who knows every branch of his trade, can not; make more than £3 a week in the host pianoforte manufactory in England. As for cabinet-making, the enormous influx of Germans into this country during the past few-years has brought wages down to such an extent that-unless, a man is-a skilled designer or^in.jfdtex of artistic furniture, he cannotTijjpp tp*nfalce more tbanl£2 alWeek".? • " JEWELLEBg AJ^paaXBBKS.; Watches are ndW" ifleide almost entirely by machinery, and as they can be itriported at a less cpstthan they, can be manufactured at homo, this'branch of-trade brings but a rJOoi: pittance—say some 82s Or 36s a week to the ukiljed mechanic. , .pi .course there !are j exceptional men 'who can command much .oyer that-etaa. but the demand for thei chronometer, with.-itg, B 6lit seconds, fly-back action^ and the various improve ments that are to be found in a -watch : costing from £40"to £100,,-ia v very limited. •The working jeweller, too, whose specialty is the^finishing of rings, chains, and other articles of personal adornment, owing to the, fact that machinery to-day plays an all-jimportant part in- -the,, manufacture 'of such' articles', now finds his. occupa tion gone, 'and.''a,-'man' in' this " Jina must be wonderfnllyskilled to-make from 48s to £3 awe'elc.'Turning to the occupa tions open to mon of some little education, even a still more deplorable state of things is found to exist. There are thousands of clerks, expert'book-keepers, writing a good hand aritf:pot;fectly'a_ble* to correspond, working %-day iii London offices for.fl.a week. Jn <T)aiiks fClerks' usually begin at a ■salary of £30 -a- year.' -H-they-hold position and I', give satisfaction to'their employers,|,!,at, the j end r of. fi va. years they will probably find- themselves in receipt of £80 [a year, and I ana .personally acquainted with several banking clerks, to-clay,. who hays been twenty yea^s ih' their present situation, whose salary does not exceed -£300 a year.-« mks ■">■■'' « -• ' .-; >"'- * • \ s"%a6es of" salesmen. "/_'''.:;' I Salesmen in 'stores ,too are "miserably said, 325. a Week being considered' 'nbwa; days a fairA'salary'.- " 'Of course there 1 are men. in London1 employed as-clerks and salesmen who are well paid, and.whose'sal) aries in some^but .very, few_ instances, run ijp as high as j65 ( or £6,a week. It is only*

however, when the employe" hasbeeri Inany. in his situation, or when He prdves.to l|e an exceptionally' clever-salesman; that he can hope -tb obtain any- • such salary-'aff the above, before he has put in.. something' like2oyears',eervice.-„.Tne cause of this de florabls state of things is not far to seek. irst of' all, there are ' far "more . peo ple |in London/, than there "are. positions Jfor. Any one who doubts IhiS'Should pay. a visit to any of the Loridori docks at 7 o.'dooJc in the'morning, where he WiHifind hundreds of men patiently waiting in the hope that they may get a-day's work • at hard,manual labour in loading, and vn 7 loading ypssels for the handsome remunera tion oF4sV During the same ten hours, less twenty minutes (the time allowed for din ner), the hardest sort of work has to helper formed, and yet'amone the applicants'from dayto day may be found hunderds of edu cated men" jwrfeotly Well qualified to fill lie" positioirdtclerksrbookkeepersandßalesmeni- Secondly, there has been-an tenermous-in fluxof .fairly educated young Germane, into England during the past few years seeking positions \in commercial houses. These young men make excellent clerks and > uniformly steady, and are willing tortile for a sum at|Whioh,the average' Eras well turns up his nose, and as theuan elemnnt,

to correspond in their owm'ost all large as in English, ope find' s-...,- ■■.-? strongly&presenf OF London county .7 .. - , ,: nat it costs the class of people t ntt: Referring to to live.in London. I .N^if-robmed house within three miles of Lie heart of the city may be had for from £30 ; to * £40 a fear, and the rates and taxes/pf such a dwelling will amount,to another £10 or £12. It ispossible toobt&ri ajjjuseof abbut the same ;size in the otf; gtfrtis of London, say six' miles front- me General PoStoJce, J&ip™*'£20 to £2Sa the cost pf M__\ ° _A° «> city makes i&^T yU>lad frw* « the Suburbs™SSkSgffl' W^e living the beet & $ t< b 'W « being J B . 0 pound the +£*?$ mutton pound, chops the sime n^ St *# W3d » really fit %, eat cTn^ 0'^ noffleat M. -Although London !. b°u«'" nnder served witff fish of -'..P 6-;^ better. weS^|;

fact isthe Engiish-pßople hai/e no idea how to cook fish, and soleS, turbot, brill and other kinds of choice fish, as served on the tables of persons Of moderate means; rare usually simply a jumbled-np mess, appetis ing neither in taste nor appearance. Tea, which iB consumed here in huge quantities by all classes, has during the last few years greatly deteriorated in quality, although it is not lower in price. A* really good tea cannot now be bought for less than 3s _4d a pound, and the. horrible mixture "brewing a liquor nearly black, and tasting inorO like a decoction of senna than the product of China 6r. Japan, which is retailed at 2s a pouud,is the staple drink of the middle class. ;.;; '."■ ;';'.•' :-"-'_'--_.A- ' "■''.'' ■'• "

-..,00013 CLOTHES NOT CHEAP. , A great deal has been said arid written about 'the cheapness of clothes in this countryi' aod ■it is certainly, true that ope can have a suit; of good-looking tweed made to order for as little as £ 2 10s. But there is little* oiAho Wear in the stuff, which is what is known in the trade as shoddy, arid lean state from personal experience that_a man can get a suit of clothes made in Philadelphia for £3 which will do him more service and fit him a great deal better than the articles! have just referredto. Transportation in London, too, is much dearer than in American cities.- There are now a good many horse-car lines in London, but as there is no transfer system, no: issue of exchange tickets, to cover -a distance of four-mues one has often-to take- two or three diffefent cars, at an aggregate cost of (3d. Bread in London coats 6d for a fourrpouhd;loaf. Beal butter.is only to be obtained at an almost prohibitive price, but a filthy substitute, the resultant of an admixture of imported butter and grease, of Some sort or other, is freely sold, at from Is to Is 4d a pound. Boots and shoes' are. cheaper than in America, but of late years th{> quality -of these necessary articles has j;ree_tly deteriorated, ; 'AFova fifths of the population, I should say, wear ready-made shoes, which are turned out at' the factories tit Northampton in enormous quantities. The wages'paid at this, the great centre of the hoot. trade, are miser able, hundreds of men -working for from 21b to 32b a week, and, as a natural consequence, the miserable materials are little more than stuck toge«w«v;Hnd aiiew.!.wet rdays ; are : fatal to these frauanient understandings. :_■■•- '"'... A PEBTINENT _FAte.~-^ \ What I have said about Londorilrpplies equally to all parts,of England; but oi <_»urse;'eve'nUower rates""of -pay prevail in the smaller cities and" thel towns and ivil hages throughout.the,country. The only ,peo_3iothat;appear to 'me; tobe well paid for their latioaj are" civil servants,- lawyers, and clergymen "Ofithe Church ofiEnjgland; Until quite recently,servant« of the Crown 'Have been selected almost exclusively from the farn^yfeotanectioni'of"theiinaßtocracy, and even1 now, when success in competitive examinations is BupposedT»*he~"the only method.^of A obtaining those much-sought after positions, one 'has only to study the Civil Hsfciojee that; aY of yore,' nearly all the most, valuable positions are filled by the hangers-on \of->the upper ten """tlhoußand. With regard, to the'law, both barristers and solicitors appeaip-'tbibe licens|id to Fob £heir events-to spy {extent, -frhile the amount of m6ney,ehnually wrung from the' people to the Established Church is -still attending disgrace to, a i presumably free country. A^very different i "state of things, by the bye, prevails amorig the; Mbnqonfotmists. \Therh are njo diS| senting ministers in England to day who draw the salaries approaching in value those enjoyed by Henry Ward, Beebher, Dr. Talmage, orii'bther\emmerit\cHyines. on ■ your side of the Atlantic. \, "The, Wee" leyans, or Methodists, are probably the and most numerous of\the,,N<Sn conformist bodies in this country, "yet I ani •Safe in saying that there is. not one "of their Mnißter9,whcr_enjQyft,-a/salary of £^00 a year. Half Hhat*suin is dohsfdered -a Uib.

y eral salary, and there are hundreds of then __ who do not get more than £160 and a houa IJ. ;^o,live in. -. ':'" ■" ■_■; ■ g T;-,-., ~ BgARIftEBS pOEPOEATIOIJS, »', ). , Tfies'efvainti of ws great |a|lw^ycbrpoJra ;. ,tions .are Wretchedly 'paid, and further )- the companies make no provision for thei •c old servants., When worn out with lonj ;s years of service they have to , make way, f o ri' yonnger men AfA case came under my owi 0 notice' only the other day of a sta a: .tion-master of a minor 'London depot ii .who, (f ..haying -.been "thirty , years i i- the- .company's employ, retires c i- necessity in the course of a'frf is iribnths, owing to age and infirmity,. -I** i- man, who has been in charge^-f. tb% r- for .nearly(twenty years now; "I^. ' **?*V ~_ when he leaves the _%„ intel 4<.g*££. 1 iffl Jrt^r***"! get about 24s a J they takftom 32s to £2 The^ti '■ SSk^-i? 8 *«fl« better, somegetting 0 KS2* £3/*r eek > fnr which they art! I think I have said enough to shoW that any man who is able and willing fo work isinfimtely better off in Amerifa thS this country. lam sfttisfi^ fJZ "?"__.'s

_-. --;/•, * ■"" oamnea irom what I few* I*'*- th 9 United Stetes thatasober industrious man, possessed of ability in any trade or profession/ who!assiduously*ppii<» himself to his life-work and praS ecconomy uneven a moderate degree, may and himself in o position to enter into busi ness on his own account before he is 40 years of ageA In this country Iknow that nothing but fortuitous circumstances, jnde pendent'Of the man's own worth and exer tions, can bring about a like result; How the unfortunate people, whose earnings I have endeavoured to give sotae idea of, feed ' andolothe toeir families and put them out in the world on this side-of the water is a problem that I cannot pretend to solve.

Royalty and Spiritualism.

Afcw spiritualistic'■ medium "hasariteb, hMh^,T^ -??mbo^°f the KoyalFamily !| n4|JMipnoured him with their visits The Sfl^ of Albany Was'so much-impressed lS**Yr-£ JffilSS at one stand, that he #ent to the trouble ofhaving f* S f^ bl\ slt te mdc' elaborate brass mountings, and fitted^ ■ '■i:i~-

;a patent Bramahleek. Armed with this,., he presented himself one morning, at the medium. apartments,' and a j small piece of pencil having, been dropped betwean the . slates, they were duly locked, (the key being attached -to the.dukes watch chain), and under these conditions—condi tions which would appear to preclude all * possibility of fraud—the pencil Waa soon heard gratingOyer the;su_cface of the slates; •'■'__ and when the key was applied to the lock, and'the sides opened, there was a long message. The late Duke alwaysi considered.< this a crucial test, and from tint day was a firm believer in the truth of " direct spirit writing." His Royal Highness .always?; maintained that the lriajorityof the written ■, messages; .he. .received ■ caine,ffrom,,.his, lamented andfaypuritesister Princess AliceiS of Hesse,-arid' a::man-"of;"the''late*'Dilke'B!; abilities and attainments was not at all a likely subject to be easily imposed'upoa byir I a'^clever conjuror," as, suggested in some quarters. ■ A, ■ '~ . , 'So convinced -indeed- was «theADuke. v of Albany of the possibility of departecl>( spirits' --.communicating' ,in., ..thiS(f>- wpw.-i with' those: on"-earth, i that (before h&rf departuire on that fatal journey*•" to1" Cannes—with, perhaps, some foreboding of, what was to happen—he deposited the slateA hef had had made with the medium,' prb->l mising, if anything happened, to communi cate a written message on this particularifi slate; and thus establish direct proof of the., correctness of .the .phenomena. AFor riianyA days after 'his decease attempts were made.* to obtain the promised message, but,.uptb the.present date,, hone has been received j. and the believers in spiritualism, for a reason 'Well known ' ariiOßgstr themselves; confidently assert that none will be received until some long period has elapsed.

Death and Trance.

A most extraordinary : instance efthe; deathlike appearance, or a person-,while in a; trance is told in the " Lancet." About a fortnight ago, a Dr. Canepai, a physiciajn in Genoa, was attacked with cholera, and ; before remedial measures1 could take effect, passed rapidly into the Algide stage, arid,', to all outward seeming, ceased to .live;', His i death..' was duly ;announcedrby ■ tie.;' Eraetitioner. in; attendance, ; and his iawily, ad performed the last offices, pending those of'the undertaker,, whose arrival they;,, were awaiting; in a room adjoining-that., in " which the; -body...of ;.Dr. Canepa,.' decently '< covered With... a -white sheet, WtMtLlying. Suddenly the door betWeerl • the !twrr-ohiunbere Was ..-_ seen . ,to ; ■ bPsnjA arid | the ghastly-figure df Dr. Canepa, arrayed in burial vesrate,-^j^htedL- itself'» .to the thunderstruck iw&spy*>~ii&pVlßjA scarcely', qudible' voice he complainwijrf/ havipg been left too long without attMd-, ance (six hours, in fact, having elapstd" since he wm given' up and laid put as dead); • He was' immediately replaced* iri bed,'and; every .restorative practised on hini. till a. physician, could be obtained'to'^rfprmJ Pacini's;; operation bf/^^hypoderttobl^sis^j Rutiin vain. The assistance. which might • 'havobeen effective-some:h6ufs;previonsly'; arrived" top late);and a valuable life was lost- to a'wide circle, public as well as private?* through the premature assumption that "deafc was real whllelt^ais'briiyapl^^;:

Smoking in America.

While the practice of smolring,, notwitii?: standing; parental vigilance, the warnings of a largo proportion of the faculty, and the I well-meant. efforts. of,', Anti-Tobacco. Associations, has made gigantic strides in Great Britain, a con*espbndmg_ development of the usage has token place in the United States, - where, according to some interest ing'statistics lately published,-there Were manufactured,; in the year 1883, no fewer than three thousand and'eoven millions four hundred and ninety-four tboueaM = and thirty-seven,, soigars,, in. r ad^itipn tp. ; .sls hundred and forty millions of cigarettes, yielding to the revenue a total of- nearly

1 eighteen millions of?dollars;:in; taxatdon«.| % As for the cigars', the bulk'of these predirteft; '*■ are of the kihd;krioWrias-"d6_M^ albeit made of genuine tobacco; #*£-_•„ w s > skilfully manufactured »Si W& e ,jjj_i' [ fexceptionsUosuit thVtas^VAn,^^^ ' pean, tae.Cubari^or ttgaSn, the affluent ' smoker. In the Steti*rva tariff of the moaL sjn the face of apwinandi!the- choicest '■>•__ v ' "afflictive > ordp-* A modest" Londres" of W Havana ov-Havana brand is held'in- NflWA* ■ an appsibston or in Chicago to be cbeaiJ'W > Yorwty-fivecents,;orone shitting !-J>«e in Ban Francisco as mu(*.as:S» Vhree-quartere of,a .dollar wiltbe-rival BriCica! UCh mUnnUriDg fora "XWM'-J It is in the article of cigarettes that the expansion of the^American home trade Itf3 manufactured tobacco- has been most re- / maskable. Erght years ago only eight millions of cigarettes were manufactored M the btates; and even this insignificant as- •' gregate was an increase of mbr? than three.'' hundred per oent. over the .amount numnA A lactured m any former year. last yearthe r - total number of cigarettes mahu&hired-:l* had: risen to the ■colossal- fimre • of. .A six hundred and forty- millions. *Of this' ■'' number only forty millions were exported?" - so that the enormous, quantity of six hun':'*

i area millions remained for home consump I tion. As regards the number of ciearettia"" importedlinto the United States, it is com- ~ U hwratively small, and is said to be anmiallvA diminishing- It would be exceeding (Uffi-*? | cult to apportion these six hundred nSllions ' of cigarettes among the classes most likely ' 9 StlZ °J hT' the Souther?' States of the Onion the neeresses f™ !quently emoke, the white wfSation 7-' are universally .abstained, fro*rSHSdV : The American lad jes are, as a rule, fiS ' 4 intolerant of smoking, which carriedcnVin i> their presence is considered: to beih oat J' rage on decorum.., -An iminerise pS >- of the population of the tJnited Sates must thus be.at .once sef d^vL „^' consumers of cigarettes, or. Indeed o '^ tobacco in any shape or foriri/.ry&«Y baffled as to the number: #,fmH§'''. ci kens who contrive to-use-up skhuS ' gat" Bonitad: -

SSiwSw— ****** «!**W«W fe-~.»l-«aia. Mt "StßUrUwrn,, Pjwsw-* ft,,, J

'- —~m KwwUnnM, r»w»w * Co., _t»_. x*klta_ ■

THE ACUKLANDE EYEING STAR THURSDAYM, MAY 8, 1881,

3



_•"• pnllßH ON:BATS."-iCleals>t ntiCiioi^w^S



?AOf^;";:: iNM-soiare m&iura m*, B«plytobea<Mi«ie4t<l^ . . '.".,~ '^S^jSP^ "■ •. /'■ I. ■ .«*__ mi- ' Vf'J*. \. ,■ A, AA' |»m dlreoted by the Seowtny of State'lor"lndia in Oonhcil to »ona»inti __? '_.'. tint your Tender of the date sod tor the'avtlolM 'mentioned below Jim afc_-«n tM. __jmqr*^ t ma^toy__C^it«mfs feq^flfrpflftjirh^jn.ll _____ I >••' WBdwed,' _ - r ' •_■'' ;_' v y<mr oleim muit be preferred in duplicate 'on the iomu prided ty,;' .; this office, and you »ra requested to quote SB ttJillt Jl^f - W&, the toUovlng reference. _ __\&____> ~'W**. I request. th«t you will aoknow!ed&e the receipt of this Jotter, »nd that yon will not oommenoe the work Uijti} ygj) jjiTJ tSfsfefiJ lull iBrtTOBBW j--'. ftomthjlmptstiDgßßguietr, ' " _.„-,,,. Iw»> I A- .. . _. V-.:. — "' bate " 'l^ : : ■ ■ ' .... ; Bute of Tender Hature of Artlclee Por what Berrioe jw% _\tji GwJ,- ÜBWM* '-— — '—, —: ——-]— V'"** &%F£j£P&' -." *?<&•* 7 a M&mi \*7^ a 4 'I * * •• .' j •A.-; ..-.- : , •.eatßUl *M .«/£'., ---~ .. .'....■ ■:...'.-.' -.'A... The above is a fao-simile Comitttng price) of the Jfourihroonaem* I tlve order from the British Government to tie M*™^™^*™* of Waltham, Mass.,for Watches to be used by the Oendnotora,. Engineers/Station-Masters, and other employees on the Indian state Railways. The Waltham Watches were seleoted as The Best, after thorough examination and open competition with the watches ofthe, most prominent European.makers. About 1600 watphes haye now, been furnished the British Government" by the Waltham Company,- « ";■..: GOX.D .HXSAXS.: ■ > '••'' HIOHBST iWARD3 AT ALL IMTimNA^IOBfAI. EXmBrTIOHfI- A, PHILADELPHIA, PARIS, SYDNEY, MELBOURNE.A "AA : AMERICAN WATOH COMPANY, "•■ ;f,-A.- AWAIrtHAMiMASS+Vfohpi Branch Office-^ -.riv I. .' .''jfca"* .'-''A WALTHAII BTJILDIITaS, BOND . STREET, STONST. -A;' DONALD MANSON, Ocnerel Muiger in Auatrtil* .' \ - v >->■■ "'''"' .. L'- :. \ :<Wlce«and Sales Rooms- i*-.-.<."r.,r;;v;t«r;: ;:■ _ '.-.■''; '•.-.■^^^._L»v A- Vi v NEW YO^K. BOSTON. CHICAGO, LONDON. « v . ; ....Arae Wholeidle etily tuppUtd. ..-■ ' "" A,,- :':<_■■-,_