ftm nD..A^^w:isr CHAPTER XVIII.â€" Continued. Tliose we/e very inuclLtbe feelings *f Arthur and An^la. He hesitated tefore her, oonfuaed, and she kept her hw.'ij.dovvn over the dog. Jiut pre- Kontly'Alvck, getting bored, moved un »nd, as it would have Lieen inane to oontinue to »ture at the thor. sbv hnd Ao»r:'. te beraelf as slowly assbt! might. So-.m their ey«M arrived in the Bam» planp. and whether a mutual glance of intelligence was eichanged, or whe- ther her power uf attracliun oviTcauie bis |ivner of resislaOL-e, it is not c»by to deU-nnijie, Ijut uertuin it in that folKm-ing a primary natural law. Ar- thur gravitated luward ber, and kiiiH- e<l her on the faoe. "My!" ezcla med I igotl, and the loilk-jug rolled unhteaed on thefluor. "Uuiui I buypose I had belter ex- pUun," Legun he. "I think you have spilled the milk," Added Kbe. ' That we have become engaged and "All to pieces, I declare, broke in An- gela, with bor head souiewhere near ihe carpet. And then they Loth laughed. "\tell lne\er, no n.'t in all my lx>rn daysi tiir and .Uiss Angela, all I have got to bay atuut th.ii extraordinary proceeding" â€" they g.auccd at each ottier in alarmâ€"' ia ihut I um very glad to hear un it, and I hope and pray tio>v as yuu may Le happy, uud, if you treat my Angela r.ght. you 11 1« just the ha^piettt and lu^jkieat mun in tbj thre<^ KLiigduuu^ iuuluuiug Ireland und the royal lauiily, and, ii yuu treat her wrung, wor^e will come to you, and her pour mothers last words, as 1 b<-ard with my oiwii ears, will oume true to you, and uerve yuu r.ghtâ€"auU there's all the milk upon the floor. And Cod ble^ you Uuth, my <i«;4U8, iB the pray- er oi au old woman." And tier* the worthy soul broke down, and began to cry, nor were An- gela's eyes lr>^e frooi tears. Alter thiii little epLsodie, breakfast proceeded la mimelhiiig like the uuua, way. t. hur h was lU.lij, and l«.ore the hour Arlhur and Angela struiled down U> tl.r t{> I ihat had already become lb hoiy gr^'Und to them, and liooked in- to ea u other's eyvs, and su>d again the home sweet words. '1 hen .Ibey went ou, and ui.ugiing with the lilile o n- gregulion â€" thai did nut numtier moie than lb i ty noulsâ€" they i/a.s^MMl inlj the cool (juiel of the churcj). ' Liiwksl ' baid a woman, as they went by, ' a.n'l «be Jiuit a lieauly. What a pretty wedding, they'd makfl" ArlhiUr o>eih<'ad it auti uuted tb.< wouiau, and aacrwurd found a pre- text to g,ve her live bbi.iiugs l«fuuBe tie said It wa.« a lui'ky o^en. Un the rouirouiiion t«ule of the i.relty l.ttle cburih th«!re was spread Lb« ' la.r white cloth' of the rubric. It uob ttie (lay for the monib.y c«le- Lirat.on ot the .'â- a'iu.uiunt, tb.tl met the rel.giouM reijuir^.-fiieiiUs cl the vil- lage. ' u ill you »tay for tho ' ajrament with me* ' wbi.-.i^-red Ang' .u. to her lover, in the interval Ulwcen their c«atiiig thciiibeln'K and the entry oi' the ilcrgyuuan, Air. i<'ra.->erM la:um ieint-iiH. Arlhur noddrxl o^nnnt. Aiiil NO, whr-ii IbL! tiuie oamc, tb >.se two went up t igv.(Lher to tb.i a. tar- ra.lA, Slid. kne<Mint, side liy side, eat of the bread and drunk uf the cup, and, rising, deiurtfvl Cbence with a new linkletwee.u th^jii liir, behure inirt of the iiniyers »h b they offered up at that h gh iiionicnt v.vm in humble Iict lion t I Ihfi Almighty to fet Ills eolriiin seal and bless, ng on tbcir love. In<le,'(l HO fur as Angela was concerned there wciv few o-ts of her simple life tbtti .'1m( did not (vinwirate by pray- er, tiow mu b ni'ire then, was sh ^ l«nt ujion liringing this lh<! greate.sl u[ all h«'r o. ts. imfore h-r Maker's Ihrine. Ktrang<t. indeed, and full of h ly pro- Diiflr, Is (he yearning with wbi h we tmrn to Imaven t« .s<v.'k san,'tificatii>n of our deuiLs, feeling our weaknesai and craving strength frcoii the wMine of btrength: a yearning <if w hi h the Chur. b with that subtle knowledge of tijunian nature wb > h is ono of the uuiin-springH of its piwer. has not lieen slow Ui avail itself. And this need Is more e«i»ecially fill in the matters nuinected with the nubU-.s! uf the \>iUi- «i<ui«, iHThapfi, l/eause all true love and all true rel'gion come from a com- mon home. Thus iiledged to one another with a new and awful |(le<lge, and knitt<!d together in the l>>nd.s of u universal Iwve, enilirocing their jjuor affections* fm the wicU> skies einl>ru e lh<i nurth. they ro« and went Ih'ir ways, purer to worship, and stronger to endure Thnl afternom Arthur hnii a couver- HBt.ion witli his liptrolht'xl that par- tjiking of liusiiiess naltire in the lie- ginning end«'d liillipr o<tdly, "I jiiukI upeak to your father when he (Wties back to morrow, denr," he l»gttn. "My fatberl Oh yes, 1 had forgot- ten a lillbi a'xiul tiiat;" mid she look- ed tt little anxioiiM. "I''<i(rt!unately. I am fnirly well off, HO I see no cause why hs should ob- ject." "Well, I think that hn will he rather glad 40 get rid of I'igott and myself. "You kniiw tbnt he is no( very fond of me " "That ts strange want of .taste on hiH part." "Oh. I don't know, Kverylsidy does mot see ma with ycmr ^yes, Arthur." I "Because thley have no|t the Pbance. All the w^orld would love you, if it knew you; but. Bcri<.u.sly, I think that he tvoji hardly olijeot, or he would not have allowed as 1^ I* thrown so murh bn^ether; for, fn nine coses out often that unt of thing hu-s only one result. "Wiiat do yuu mean?" "I mean that to iuijKirt a young fel- low into the h.'>u.se. and throw him solely into a <laugh.t«r'8 coiui>any, is very apt to bring aboutâ€" well, what has teen lirongh.t alMiut." "Then you mean thatycu think that I bhould have fallen in love with ,tny gent!f'iiiaii who had ccme h'-re?" Arthur, not feeing the slight flush of indignation in her eyes replied: "Well, you know there is always a rLsic; Imt I should iuiogine that it would very much depend upon I'le Kenttlemian." "Arbbur"â€" with a little. Btamp â€"'I am as.bairied of you. How can you think tuch Ihiuga of w^'l You must have a very \it>>r opioion of me." 'My dear, why shnild I suppcse my- telf superior t/i anybody els^, that you should only fall in love with me? You set to> Irigh a value on mu." " â- \iid you set too low a value upon me; you do not understand me. You are my fate, my cither »Jf; bow would it have Ijeen possible for me to love any one but youf I feel cs though 1 had lieen traveling to meet you since the legiiining of the world, to Rtand by your side till it crumbles away, ytw, for eternity itself. Oh Arthur, do not laugh at what I say. I am. ljidee<l, only a simple girl, but, as I told you last night, there is ^xnethlng stirring in me now- my real li''e my ••ternal part, something that you have awakened, and with whi'b yooi have to deal someih ng apart from the wp you se- lefi re you. .\s I speak I feel and know that when we are dead and gone I shall luve you still; when more sgi' ; have pu.s.sed th>n theie are Icave.s U()on that < ice, I shill love you fctill. Arthur. I am yours for- ever, for the tim'' thiit i.s. and i.s tote." She sjiolte with th« grand freedom of one inspired nay, he felt that nhe was inK(>ired, and the same feeling of Bwe that had c<ime iifxin h m when he first naw her f a « again toik [xisses- sion of him Taking ber hand lie kisred it. "rVeare>*t" he Ka'd. "dearest Angela, ♦vho atn I that you fhould love me sot What have I ilone th:it su. h a. t re;i- siire Klioiild lie given b> me? I hoi:e that it may Ije as you say!" "It will he as I say." she answered, as she l«nt to kiss him. And tht^y went oo inl silen<«. CeAPTEK XXIX. Ph-lip arrived honoe ab^ut one oc'ok on the .M.iiiHay, and. after their nur- ^ery dinner. ..\ Arthur made his way to the Kttidy. and mr)n found h mself in the dread pre^»'ni eâ€" f jr what pre- !-ence in more dread, m st people would rattier face a chief justice with the jp.iit â€" of the man whose daughter ho »ari B''Out t'l ask in m:irriage. I'hili|>, whorj) he found .s>atcd I»y a tray. Ihc contents of whih he si^eiii- cd in no huin'ir to touch re<«ived him with his cuKto'nary pi>litcne«a .--ftNing with a smile that b> hoped h:- bad not corr.e l<i tell h m that he was .si<-k of the oliuv and its iiibabitaots, and was goip'.; away. ' I'Bj flora It Mr. Caresfoot. I come to niieoJc to you on a very different ^uh.-e-t ." I'hlip glanced no with a ipiick look of exjiecUant curi^wtity. but ^aid noth- ing. 'In short" Ktti<l .\rthur, desperate- ly, "I came to ask you to lan.-t on my engagement to Ang.la," A paiL.seâ€" a very awkward pause â€" en- sued. "You arc then engaged to my daugb- lerf" ".Subject to your con«ent I am " Then come another p.iii.>«. "You will unrler.-»tAnd me, Heigbam when f â-ºay that you lake me rather by .surprise in thi.s hiLsinei-s Your oo- aualntaii'e with her has te>n short" "That in very true, but I have seen a (?rent deal of her." ' IVrhaiw; lilt hhc knows aliadutely noth ng of Ihe Wdrld. ami her pre- ference for you â€" for as you say you are engaged to her, I presume she has shown a proferenif â€" iiiay !« a mis- take, iiieiiely a youuig girl's romantic idea." Arthur thought of h's conversation of the previouH day with Angela, and lould not help Nui.ling a.s h' answered. "I think if you a.' k ber that she will tell you that i« nut thu case." "Meigbom, 1 will Im frank with you. I like you. and you have, I lielicve, Kuffl'ient means. Of course you know- that my daughter will have nothing â€"at any rate, till I am dead," he added quickly. "I never thought alxiut the matt.tr, but I hIioII !«( only t<Mi glad to marry her with nothing but herself." "Very goid. I was going to .say, that, notwilh-landing this, marriage is an imjiortant matter; and 1 must have tiine to Ihink over It before 1 give you a dex'idecl an.swer, .say a week. 1 shot I not, hiwevoi;, oxpe<'.t you to leave here unlo« you wish to do so, nor shall I seek to pla-e any restric- tions on your intercourse with An- gela since it wonld api»ear that the ini.s«-bief is already done, t am flat- tered by your projitiisal; but I must have time and you mu.st understand that in this instance hesitation dees not necK'SHiirily moan consi'nt." In affairs of this nature u man is Rat'sfied with small mercies and will- ing to imt up with inconveniences that apiiear trifling In <x>mparia«m with the disa-sters that might have overtaken hitii, Arthur was no exception to the gtin<'ral rule. Indeed, he was profuse in his thanks, and, buioyed up with all Ihe confidence of youth, felt sure in hi« heart that he ^vo^lld soon find a way to extinguish any objeotions that niigbt still linger in Philip's mind. Hi . wou,ld-be father-in-law c nlent- ed himself with acknowledging his re- marks with courte.sy, and ths inter- view came to an end. Art blur ijune. however, bis host iMt all of his calmn»« of demeanor and. rising from his untasted meal, paced |i|» and down the room in thought. Ev- erything had, b« reflected, fallen out as he wi,' h-d. ^'oouig Ileigham wanted to marry his daughter, and he could not winh her a better buaband. Save for the fatality whih had sent thit woman to hia on her fiend's errand he would have given hi^ consent at oncv. and lieen p!l»d to give it. Not tJial he meant to refutw itâ€" be had no such idea. And then be lirgan to think what, .Rupiosing that l.ady Bel- le-Tny'H embassy had lieen of a nature tliat he (xiiLld entertain, which wa-l not, it would mean to him. It would mean the n^alization uf th^ work and aspirations of twenty years; it would mean his re-entry into tb" property anil position from whi h'be had ac- eording to his own view, been un- luRtly ousted; it would mean, last but not least, triumi>h over George. And now chance, uiighty chanoe, as fools call Providence, had at last thrown into his tuuids a lever with whi-h it would le rtuiy to topple over everv stanibling-blork that lay in his path to triumph: mire, bs might even le able to spfiil that Kgyptian George, giving him lef« than his due. Oh how he hungered for tb; broad a'-res of his birthrightl longing for them as a lover longs for his lost bride. The opp irtiinity would never come a<?ain;'w-hy thiuld be throw it away? To do so would 1« to turn hia cou.sij* into on open and inidacable foe. Why >hould he a'low thi.s girl. v. h-^se birth had tereft him of the only cr. a- ture he hid ever loved, w h >se sex had al'enabf'd the family e-states. and for whose oomieny he cared nnth'ng. to come o.s a destruction on his plans? She would be well off; tb-" man lo"«d her. .As for her le^ng engaged 1 1 this young He'ghajn wmen «>on got over th<r-e th ngs. After all. now that he cajne to think of tb<> matter calmly, w-bat valid cau-e was there why the thing should tint he? And n« he pa-ed to and fni, and thought thus, an answer came into his mind. Kor there ru,«e up before him a vi-^ion of his dying wi'e. and there .'•ounded in hi; ear the murmur of ber half-forgotten voice that for all its broken softness had with its last ac- cent s. called do^vn Gcd's winged ven- geance and Hi« everlasting doim ou him who v.uuld h-UTn her unprotected '•hild. And, fe<»iing that if he did this thing on him would le the ven- geance and the domn, h" tb'iught of the fhadows of the night, and grew afra'd. When* .Arthur und h'l host met ac- cording to their cii,".t<«n, that even- ing, no allusiou was made on either »id<> to their conversation of th- af- ternoon, nor did her father evensieak a word to Angela on the subjet^t. Life to all apiwaraoce, went on in thih old hou-'e pntisely a.s th lugh nothing had hapfw'ned. I b lip did not attempt to put the â- nialle;-it reatrant on Ar- thiir and h s daughter, and ntudious- ly fdvat h -s e>t\s to the pretty obvious signs of their m.u'tual affe»-tion. I'or them, the long June days were golden, liut all lo) sh^irt. Kvery morning found their niuiual love more pk'rfe t. but when th- fUUtes of crini»>n light faded from the skiei and night drup- I*d her veil over the tall trees and (lettK'ful lake, t<y soiue miracle it had grown deejer an<l mure iierfect btill. Lay l>y <loy, Arthur disco/ered new Vhamie in Angela; here noav hidi!en knuncledge then' an un.su.spe<^teil grace and everywhere au all-emHracing char- | ity and love. I'ay by day be gazed j de<-iier intothf depths of her mind, and i Kt ll there were more to plumb. I'or | it was u store-lmuso of noble thoughts I and hgh anilnfion. â€" ambid n.s many | of w-hii h could only tind fulfillment in \ another wurld than ths. .\nd the more I he .saw of hr-r the pruudt-r be was to I think that such a lerfect creature ! should so dearly love h inself; and with ! the greater joy did be look forward j to that wipreme and happy h ur when he should call b-r his. And .si day add- ed itself today and found them happy. Indeed, the a .i»j<'t of the'r fortunes Itemed as smo th and smiling as tl» ; summer Burfa<-e of Ihe lake. About I'hilip's final consent to their engage- ment they did not trculle thm^elveci. | judging not unnatuf-ally, that bis ix n- I du t u as in itself a guarantee of a\f- pro,al. If he meant to rai'e any se- riou-s uhjcctions he would suiely have do(ne «<i lefore, ArlliuT would urge, and Angela would quite agree witli him, and wonder what parent (xmid find it in his heart to obje<-t to her l>onny-eye<l lover. what a, merciful provision of Pro- vidence it is that throws a veil over the future, only t<i le pierced by the ' tall inont eytd otf Sivi(tKhineii! Where should we find a flavor in those intie- I qi!e,nt cups that thi hyest of the gc<ln ' Joy. holds to our yearning liiM. could j we know of tlie bitter that lurks in the tln»«el«d liowl? .Surely »\e ha\eiiiu h to te thankful for. but fur nolh'Ug I should we le Sfi grateful a.s for Ih 8 blesaed iin|iotence of foresight! • Itut as it is often un the bluest days ' that the mercury begins to sink tie- j neath tlhi breath of far-:!ff hurricane .so there is a warning spirit iinplimt- ed in .sensitive minds thai makes them ' mistrustful of too great hup pi lusjs. We feel that, for most of lus, Iho wh el of our fortunes revolves too quickly to allow (jf a long continuance qt un- broken joy. "Arthur" said Angela, one morn- ing, when ciftht days ha<l pa.sse(i since her father's return from town, "wo are too happv. We should throw some- thing into the lake." "I have noit got a ring, except the one you gave me," he answered; tor bi.s signet was on her finger. "So, unless we sacrifice Aleck or the ravens, I don't know what it is to be." ''Ikxn't joke, Arthiur, I tell y<iu w© nre too hai>|iy." Could .\rthur have seen through an aero or so of u,ndergrowth, as Angela uttere<l those words, he would have pertxiiveH a very smart |>age-hoy with the Rellamy creat on h'« buttons de- livering a letter to I'bilip. It is true that tlicre was nothing particularly alerming al^oiit th.it, but its cuntent-i might liave given a i»oint to Angela'a foreliodinBiS. It ran thius: "liewthujm House, Monday, •'My dear Mr. C»re»liuut.â€" With r«- I ferenne to our conversation last week about your daughter and G., can yuu come over and have a quie^ cllat with I we this afternoon? *â- . "Sincerely youi-s, ft "Anne Beiffbay." Philip read this note and th>,n re- read it, knowing in his heart that now was his opportunity to ai't up to hl.s (ictnJvictioas. and put an end to the whole tranfa"tion in a few decisive words, liut a man who has for so ttuuiy years given pla'-e to the dem'n o' avarice, even though it be avarice with a legitimate object cannt (-hake hiwi^-elf free from hia clu.tcb'8 in a mo- ment; even w^hen, as in Fhilip'siiase, I onor and) rii^ht, to sny nothin'.? of a still more jiowerful factor, superstition, sjieak so loudjy in his oars. Surely, he thoucfht there would be no harm in hearing what she had to say. He could explain his reasons for havin" not>iiag to do iwitb the matter so much letter in persow. Such mental strui?- arles have only one end. Presently- the smart iiege-bo(y bore back this note: â- Dear Lady Bellamy,â€" I "will b« with >aiu at hatf-past three. 1 ' PC. It was with( very curioan sensations t'jat Pbili-i was that day shown into a ri'-bly-furnisb<«d IxiMdoir in Rewtham Ho^se. He had not leen in that room since he had tilked to Maria Lee, 8»t- tinur on that very sofa, now occapied by Lady Bellamy's still beautiful form and lie cmuld not but feel that it was a place of evil omen for hica. Lady Bellamy rose to greet him with her most fascinating smile. "This is very kind," she said, as she motioned him to a sent, which Fhi'ip afterward discovered, had been careful- ly arranged so as to [nut bis featu'-e.s in the full light, whilst, sitting on ' he .sofa, her o.vn were concealed "Well, Mr. Caresfoot," she legan. after a lit- tle pauB(>. "I suppose I had hett,^r come to the |)oint at once. First of all, I fresurae that, as yon anticipated would lie tlie caae, there exists .some sort of under -tanding letween Mr. Heigham and vour daughter." PMlio nolded. "Well, yo^LT cousim is as determined as ever alxmt tbe matter. Indeed, he IS simjily infatuated or liewitched, I rtJiUy don't know which." "I am sorry lor it, Lady Bellamy, aa I cannot " "One moment, Mr. Csresfoot; first let roe tell you Ms offer, then we can tnik it over He o'fers, con'^itionally on * is marriage with your daughter, to sell you t'-e Isleworth estates at a fair valualicn hereafter to be agreed uion, and to make a large settlement" "And what part does he wish me to play in thei matter?" "This tirst, youi must get rid of youno; Heigbam, and prevent bim from holdinw any communi-atlon, eit'T with Angela beraelf, or with any oth- er person conne'-ted with tV'is place, for one year from/ f-e date o' his depart- ure. Secondly, you mu.st throw no o'v. stacle in George's path. Thirdly, if reouired, you must dismiss her old nur.se, Piggott." • "It cannot !â- «, Ijidy Rellamy, I came here tot tell you so. I dare not force mv daughter into such a mar- riage, for all the estates in Kng- land." Tji^t Bellamy laughed. "It is aniufiing," she said, "to see a father iifraid of bis own daughter; but you are over hasty. Mr Caresfoot. Who asked vouV to force berf All vou are aa*ced to do is not to interfere, and leave the rest to myself and Georre You will have nof-ing to do with it one wav or the other, nor will any re- S'lOii^i'ilitv Test wit'^ vou. Besi 'es. it is very pro'^ablei that your cousin will live dofvn bi"^ fancy or some of-er oS- stacle will arisrt to imt .inl end to t*"* tv'inij, in w^i-'h case Mr, H-ishim v III rome liack at t>>e end of bi» year's "ro- l>ation. nnd evemts will ta'-e tjieir nat- ural course. It is onW wise and riaht t»'nt yom should, try the constan'-v df frae yo'ing lovers, instead of letting t'era marry out' of hend If., on the of'er band, Angela should In the j course of the year declare a preference ! for lier cousin, .surely that will le no ] affair of yours." ' "I don't understand what your in-' fcerest is in this matter, I-idy Bel- i lamy." , "My dear Mf. Careefoot, what does! my intereet matter to you? Perba- s ' I have one; perhaps 1 have not; all women love match-making, you know; what really ia imiHirtont is your de- cision," and she shot a glance at bim from the heavy-lidded eye«, only to recognize that he was not convinced by ber argumjentv or, if convinced, ob- stinate. "By thei way," she went on, slowly, "George a-skect me to imike a payment to .vou on his account, money that has, he says, lieen long owing, liut wbich it has not hitherto leen con- venient to reniay." 'What is the sium?" ashed Philip, alv stract«<lly. A large tme, a thousand pounds," It did not require the peculiar in- tonation she threiwi into her voice to mak«> tho matter clear to him. He was well aware that no such sum was ow- ing. "Here Is the check," she went on; and, t,iking fromi her purse a signed and crossed check upon a London lianker, she unfolded it and threw! it ui>on the table, watching him the while. ' Philip gaze.d_ <â- »!' the mOner with tho eyes of a btingry wolf. A' thousand poundsl That might be his for the ask- ing, nay, for the taking. It would bind him to nothing. The miser's greed tcxok possession of him as he look- ed. Slowly be raisiMl his band, twitch- ing with excitement,, and stret.lied it out toward the check, but, before hia fingers touched it, l.ady Bellamy, as though by accident, droppe<l her white palm uiiom the precious pa- per. , "1 sujjpaee that Mr. Heigham will leave tomorrow on, the ujiderstanding we mentiimed?" she said, carelessly, but in a siguificant tone. Philip nodded. The hand w«w withdrawn as careless- ly as It liad come, leaving the check, blushing in all its native beauty upon the table. FhilLp took it as' delib- erately OS Ve could, and put It in hia pocket. Then, riaingj he said good- bye, adding, as| b» passed through 4 he dpor: "Rememler, I have no reaijoasi- bi'itv in the matb-r. I wash my bands of it, and wish to bear nothing alo'it it" "The thoiisand pounds bos done it," reflected Lady Bellamy "I told George ' t..at lie would riae greedily at coaey. I I have not watched him for twenty I years for nothing. Fan-v selling an ' only daughter's happlnejs.s in li''e for a thousand pounds,, and such • daugh- t'-r, tool I wonder bow much he would take to murder her, if he were '•ertain that he would not l)e found oi.L! ITpon mv word, my work gro.vs quiba inter- esting. That cur, Philip, is as good OS a olay," and she laughed ber own peculi.ir laugh. TolBe Continued. THE RIVFR SEINE. Al I..a«l •â- e-Twrnilrili vf Ike ParU Psya l4<l»n Is A I way* Fl»hliic The Seine is the most versatile of rivera Most people seem to think that it is only to cross over, because of the frequent I ridges; or, if they read the papers, that it is moutly used by persona of a theatrical turn to cota- mlt suicide in. But it has many usea^ It is a .so,v.4r, it is a highway for floating omni. a.->e8 or fly-boats, wl.ich carry more jieopie between different parts of ttie city than any ten tram- ways, it is a na, igable stream for deep water craftâ€" from Lngland primipal- lyâ€" and affords a do .en ports la the city of Paris alone; it is a c.ana., u, on whicii there tloat more canal I oats than any regular canal in France; it is a bath tub, not only for jieop.e â€" in many floitiug liatiis which iine its banks,â€" but also for lioraes, co.va and Uaga, which have ea h a desi^'-n ited I athing place; it is a envioimiutf lo i.Wwsgiany ducks and geese; it is a reservoir, from which wat-!r is pumpc 1 for the cleans- ing of t le city streets it ii a laundry tub, in which more than nine-tenths crif the clothes of the citi am of Paris are washedâ€" was l.ing never leiagdone at home, even by t!ie poorest peop.e. Last and most imi ortant, it is the angling ground for t e world's moat patient fishermen Perhaps fiih have l«en caught in the Seine, because of- ten men have protested that tbsj have caught them, I ut no one â€" if ti same men le e.\ceptel--er--->c .<nT caught This fact, not.^y?='tan,!inif (^ passion for fisi i^g, anJ^^^'iing m Hj, Seine imrticularly, a l!Tl|mh states- man h^s called thie e.il co^jiual v>\'u the drinking of a' inthe, that fe luk derminintc t le nation S; rin.?, sum- mer, autumn, winter, mcruing, noon and e\eDing. rain or s'lns the Paris- ian world st.Tuds on t !e ciuais with a book in the water waitins; for a I ite. Men, women, and children, are in the crowds, and eonte look poor and some I jok rich. But noliody ever looks oth- er than expectant The waiters of the small cafes and restaurants in tbjs Chamjis Elysees take advauta^n of the dull hours, and, Imrohcade I, a-rimed, and with uapkina coverin;{ their im- maculate shirt bosoms, s'e: a place ^ Ve ranks; ca' men. too, ani erraml I oys and trampsâ€" every' oly If a cen.sus were taken some fine day it would in- (lu itably sl;o,v that at lea.-,! on^'-twen- tieth of the population of Paris ,wm always fishing. THE SLANGY GIRL. The pr\'tty firl who uses sang To conversation gives a tang, ' Too strong for me. How could I ever tike to wife A girl iwho says, " You bet your Tifel" â- For guarantee? The maiden Avbo remarks ; " WsU, ssyl" Is quite devoid of fasrina- Tion in my eyes. And when you hear one say, "That's rlgltl" I take mv.hat and say Rf(,oJ-night» With sbockt I sur|iri.so. Ho'.vever charmin-x she mi^ht be No slonify<[irl could be for me A projier w ife • , Do you sur'pose that I would wed A girl who'd say, "Oh, go bU 4eadl" Not on your lifel A DEALER IN W0RD3 The late H"j> Tienry Ers'cine, nosei- in.'j his acquaintance, Jemmy R.Tlfour, u liarri.ster, who dealt greatly ini hard words and rircmnlocutious sentences, and ixTceiving that his iin'clo was tied up with a silk handkerclii»f. asked the caus«!. "Why, my dear .sir," an.svj>ii; ed the wordy lawyer, "I wa.s taking a rural, ronmntic rumble, in my broth- er's grounds, when coming to a. gate, I had to climb over it, by which I came in contact with the first bar, and have grazed the epidermis on my skin, at- tended with a sli^^ht extraivasation of bliKid." 'You may t'lank your lucky stars," replied Mr Urskine, "that your brother'agate was not as lofty as your style, or you must have broken your H,ec.k." I QITRRR CHlNE.se PASSPORT, in China a traveler wishing for a passijort is compelled to have tb' paiU passport is cumpelled to have tbt-palna o' bus haiwl I ru.shod over with fine oil paint. ,He then presses his hand on thin, damp paper, which retains an impressiori uf the lines. This is used to prevent transference of the pass- port, as the lines of no two hands ar« alike. JUST LIKE A MAN. Jolhn is such a goose; he gave deat mamma half a djoxen silver nut-piolu and a niut-cracker." Well, isn't that all right? Poor mamma, she has dyspepsia, and b&sn't eaten a nut Cor twenijr yeara.