The Cardigan Observer and General Advertiser for the Counties of Cardigan Carmarthen and Pembroke

SPRING. Ah I my beautiful violets, Stirring under the sod, jFeelmg, in all your being, The breath of the spirit of God. Thrilling your delicate pulses, Warming your life-blood anew,- Struggle up into the spring-light; I'm watching and waiting for you. Stretch up your white arms towards me, Climb and never despair; Come! the blue sky is above you, Sunlight and soft warm air. .shah off the sleep from your eyelids, Work in the darkness awhile, 'Trust in the light that's above you, Win your way up to its smile. Ah! do you know how the May-flowers, Down on the shore of the lake, Are whispering, one to another, All in the silence, Awake! Slushing from under the pine-leaves, Soon they will greet me anew,— But still, ob, my beautiful violate, I'll be watching and longing for you.

THE STRANGE CLAIMANT; OR, TWICE WED. CHAPTER I. TIIE FISHERMAN'S WEDDING. "GOOD morning, mate-a glorious morning Aye, aye-a right morning for a wedding!" Are you bidden to it, Dan ?" Oh, aye me and my dame, and the lasses the lads is to row the bride's boat, for you know, I suppose, it is her fancy to be married at the old church at Bontryst; her father and mother both lays there, poor lass! Proud enough the lads be, I'll assure you, and proud my dame be of 'em—six as stout and handsome chaps as you'll meet in these parts. Be you bidden, Ben ?" Aye, aye and glad I'd ha' been to join the party, seeing the lass were always a favourite o' mine and my poor dame that's gone but I had gi'en my word to go up Rockton wi' Jem Apaley's fish—him bein' laid up wi's bad arm, and I wouldn't break my word to the lad but my lasses be goin'; and, to speak truth, Meg s been a' yesterday in wi' Nelly, helping at the wedding clothes. I'd be bound, they two ha' never been to bed this blessed night, !o.- I see the smoke comin' from the chimney afore daybreak." j§ "Like enough, mate, like enough! There be nothing on earth the lasses do take so kindly as the making of wedding-tackle; unless, indeed, it be the gear of the smaller craft-the Daby clothes. But there's not a soul in the village but would gladly do a good turn for Nelly Heartsom; and it's no wender, for a sweeter nor kinder lass never set foot on theBe here sands." So she is, so she is, neighbour; she's as good as she's pretty, and you couldn't say more. Why,|when my dame lay ill, and my Meg were away at yonder, didn't Nelly tend her-aye, like a daughter ? Night and day were she at her bedside, and never took off her clothes, nor got a wink o' sleep till such as Meg came home, and then she would keep on 8 off; and never to say left off nursing till my P??1" wife were past wanting |help in this world. in heaven bless her, say I i Aye, aye, Ben Stratton, it's all true; and, mind you, I ha' knowed Nelly sin' she were that hig". I knew her father; we sailed many a voyage together, and it were me settling down here as led him to give up a seafaring life and take to the fishing boats. Aye, mate and I were the first as come across him that morning after the fearful night, when his craft went to pieces on the very rocks that beat the life out of his poor body! It were me found him, poor Heartsom! and me it was they would have break the awful news to his wife." It was before I came to this part," said his com- pamion. Aye, aye, it was a terrible sight, to be sure. The poor wife well nigh out of her mind, and little Nell —she was about five then-just old enough to under- stand, and to miss her father. The baby was born after, and died same day and the poor wife fretteo herself away in less than two years after. Lor' ble* you, mate, any of us would ha' took that child kept it same as our own but, bit of a thing as She were, she had that spirit-no, she'd earn her says she-her father, bless you, all over, that wO- and so she'd nurse the babies, and knit the stockings, and do heaps of odd jobs, she did; and so fr0™ house to house she soon made herself worth her I can tell you; and, as she grew up, she took that bit of a place yon; and one give a hand, and another give a hand, and put it ship-shape, and you know the trim little berth the lass has it now. And what with mending the nets, and makmg^ o *em, and nursing the children, and their mothers and writing of letters to the sweethearts for the girls, and one thing an' another, w,hy, Nelly has done bravely." They ha' been long courting-" "Aye, that were the lass's independence, just- she would not hear of launching, till such time as she'd got together all the wedding sear, and needful '■ stores aboard-sheets and quilts, I take it, an sucn like. To say the truth, mate, I be right- glad the day's come, and she's to be made fast; for though i: the lass is true as gold, she's over-pretty and light- hearted to go alone in this world." t You're right, mate, you're right; and there 3 been v more than one hankering after the prize." ? "Aye, Ben Stratton; and, between you and ^0» k there were an ugly craft a-while since, that my did misgive me would run foul of our gallant little sailor." "Saul Meghorn ?" f "Aye, lad; now I love Nelly-lass like one° .J I own, and, when I saw that she was not for "°u the black, big fellow, as she should ha' done, hankering after other men's goods, I up and sp° her fatherly-like, Ben, as you might ha' done,w laughed, and says she, I aint married yet, j"4 ftn(j Bullocks,' she Bays—and then looked so a merry in her way, you know, that makes a .but it man; I couldn't for the life of me be angry» waa do pass my comprehension, ahe, loving young Franklen with all her to holding out the tip of her finger, as you m8^8, ^{,ut that beetle-browed limb of the devil. Lord • Women be the biggeBt puzzles ever sent upo earth to plague it." wbo Don't be hard, don't be hard," put in jn inclined, perhaps, to something more of his judgment, that he had been for upwards years released from the conjugal yoke, hope all be gone now it's a good bit since, and let's n they will go straight wi' the young couple, as There she is!" said Dan Bullocks, dia- him. The door of a small cottage, at a roang tanee bade from the beach, opened, and a I wa8 ^oman had stepped out, pitcher in hand, a doming towards the spot where they stood. Mermen, She hesitated, as she perceived the two wjth 'for a moment, seeming undecided; theby Jhe confidence of real innocence, she _ious- *he slightest possible blush betraying the j. a^e fcess that it was her wedding morning, #B?vuouB, flight be reminded of it by her kind old D61*vy ft B^ep Before she bad reached the spring, tbey» *°rward, had met her, and while Ben ,fc ftt **oui her the pitcher and proceeded to »» jjullocks ffream that gushed sparkling from the roc* > 8un. r*d hold of both her hands in his large, fists. sunshiny God bless you, my lass, this brigfl1' j,0nest a ^°rning, that's to make you the wife of or and as brave a sailor as ever he You're worthy of him, Nelly V forget l Jon bless you both; and, my girl, ° be vf8 an orphan like yourself, and love D roughest of dear, as you can be, Nelly. T&e more ti ^eed a woman's love and tenderness, nv heart, you may think. God bless you frOt0fve ^ay is Nelly, and may you be as happy 89 kissed her forehead, and fc!?9 filled with tears as she said, Than*?, tihank >^|(> Master Bullocks, you're v<ry g000' God bless you, too, Nelly Heartsotu nd there 0 low carno up with the filled pitcher, jear in heaven that blesses you, 0^e was your dear goodness to her wbe ^h, thank you, thank you! Please d°n «e^uv W„faid poor Nelly, whose sensitive he» » ^v the honest warmth of the old ft "g out her emotion. Thank TolL. «i come C«^e I'll mind. I'll be very good, ^6 Aaron and me? and—thank you,where pitcher was carried to the door by «. the sobbiDg, laughing, blushing bride. so happy ehe said every body's 80 „n'j that's what you're to cry for, I supp° V?.,De of your tears all over your MM i ^o have off, you naughty, unlucky tning>y Stratton/who, in the capacity of chief D)il1iner« and mistress of the sere &>» x>n herself to lecture the bride..» J»__ had, all in a fluster, seated berse 0,1Kn of the bed, among a heap of Btl.0 .Uy i58' inadvertently gemming tbem wi h Wels she was likely to boast of on the occa- | unlucky, is it, Meg ? I it was l Your father sad old locka spoke so kind just now; every one seems to love me." And so you're crying about it! I suppose, if one of us was to box your ears we might get a laugh. There, go along, and be getting the breakfast, do, you silly girl." But Meg fondly kissed her friend as she pretended to chide. That was the mischief, you see. For one reproof, Nelly Heartsom got two—aye, half a dozen ■—caresses. If she had had less of one, she might not have needed the other. Smiling through her tears, the bride elect set about getting breakfast for herself and her companion, adding to the usual ordinary fare such extra little dainties as she had made, or as had been sent by kindly neighbours on every side, who wished her well. Intterupted she was, from time to time, by Meg's imperious claim to try on this," or see how this wentand she sa awaiting the indefatigable hand- maiden, at the well-spread little table, some minutes before Meg would leave he? employment. There the latter said, at last, as she entered. « It's all ready now; everything laid to one's hands, even to the pins- □, Nelly jOU wjjj 2ook nice «' Dear Meg, you taken a deal more pains than I should have done for myself; but I'll do as much for you when your turn ccnes." "Oh, you'll ave something better to do by then, Nelly other ciotbes to work at, long before Nell's band s opped her mouth, and then straight way conveyed ° it some dainty of her own provid- ing, bidding1 er taste that, and not talk nonsense." Presently came taps at the door, and in dropped, one by oae. matrons with kind tokens of affection, seasoned 1flth sage advice maidens longing to see the brIdal which Meg Stratton triumphantly displaved, preud of her work, nnd justly so. Then came the V0!1, ones, elected to the rank of brides- maids! an laughed, joked, smiled, and were gay, standing around the homely breakfast table, joining in the fragmentary meal. J e In at the open casement nodded the flowering creepers-fvschias, rose, honeysuckle, and heliotrope —the 80 came laden with the odours of ? '■he steady, soothing beat of the waves UP°D u?^ each, while the glorious June sun shone brigboy over sea, and rock, and sandy shore. A morning for all heaven and earth to make peace, and for the elements to swear eternal amnesty. A very weddmg morning. J g5acious me •' Nelly, there go my brothers! 81a *? 80 Much as your hair done!" "At Patty Bullocks, one of the pretty &ri a, 88 six stalwari young men appeared aloD« the beach from the village. • nearly of a height, and dressed alike in nautIcal, holiday costume, of white jacket and full J. 8traw hats, each with a coloured r ? Bering gaily from its crown, and on the r+ a knot, or favour, corresponding in colour to that on the hkt. y a pretty conceit, each ef the biidesmaids wore C°i?Uur8 ^airmg *ith those of the young rowers, w 11 ?-1; n?l UQfair to conclude, was the token of sympa y n the Owners-with one exception among the young men, who failing, perhaps, of mating him- self with a lady, wore the bride's colour, as did Meg Stratton. "Theyare going to the boat now," cried Patty; and n yu surely call here, to know if we are ready. "v Meg," said Nelly; and away she hurried to her chamber, leaving to her friends the duty of recein g her escort, who did not fail to look in at ^eCu «'<>a o rehearse, in concert with the other ^eir joyous party, the order of their going. r But they sooa hurried on their way, for the bride- g^°? ,> „• to. be brought in state (so they planned it) in trim boat, in all its glory, with colours flymg. f o 7%«re. crie(j Meg for the last time as she suc- V«rm^dable achievement of hooking that "bottom hook- for whichshehadthpown intoher ten e combined forces of her body; "there!" fn, + £ e vom her knees, and over Nelly's head, 19 ™ i Jlt.tle mirror- Well, now, I do declare! "P.°° if you ain't the tiresomest, unluckiest */r 0tl earth is the girl crying at now ?" 1 can'fc helP cobbed the bride, i. 10 AZ arnaB around the neck of Meg, who, on ,er. P'.te the riek to the finery, could not re- frain from an involuntary hug. A «T,a T 5aPPy» and I do so love him, and he is so g0^W^l<Wt deserve him!" j you must try to," said her downright bone Aaron 'fi tw' and her a 8,i»ht 8hake- 1 P? j it- • 0x y°ur ears if y°u don't behave. It's wi l„nV wiif* lndeed, Nelly; there's no telling what i „ come of it, crying over your gown and gloves, too-8eeWe!„ J J *ere dimpling Nelly's sweet face as she r2 ll;z,lnt0 fcer little parlour, which her friends f annroval decorated with fresh flowers. A hum bf»' ^^°h even the women could not repress, A stood blushing in their midst; and Tinndfe th«0^- ^anklen came in (having given his nation preferring a less public mode of con- T?^ >18 bride's home), all in his wedding h r bosomaitl> '"ell-fitting, suitable—and placed in !ofnm t(* k <?ne °F those white rosebuds it was his hrinffvou hep» s^ing, "It is the last I'll ever Pfl_ e^y Heartsom," Meg, who was watching unrlv scolil t^ out, "For goodness Bake! some- They all ] r' or cry ftH way to church music com and momen^ sounds of window • nearer and nearer, drew all to the and a little a i°y°U8 huzza burst upon their ears, rounding (.y.Conv?y of boats came into sight, rapidly gleaming i P°int of jutting rocks, their white sails ing in the t'le 8Un> their many-coloured flags flutter- hand awn^n'e breeze—the joyous notes of the full That BU ln^ willing echoes of the cliffs around, happy brid^6*'8 8Un 8^one uPon 110 fairer nor moro the than she who now walked, escorted by to the boat cre(f and smiling briiesmaids, down and green as the bride's by the white flag In the nMrreath that decorated its prow. then that 041116 the bridegroom and his friends; those bidd ^and j then another filled with thronged to the wedding; then more and more, made hol'fl1^ We^-wishers and neighbours, who had Over to honour to the occasion. enough f Hue waters, where diamonds glittered the oars n, a million bridals, at the splash of burdens • f ^oats danced lightly with their precious waves • t'k 6 white-winged birds resting on the gaily •'«8treamers fluttered, the music struck up bore awa a^ain roae the triumphant chorus, as they industrv u t^8 ma'den from the home which her own old chn reared, to the altar among the hills, the coast .°^ Bontryst, some few miles round the have na ei° Nelly had chosen—for the reasons I anied—to become the wife of Aaron Franklen. OHAPTEB II. M S A VI' KLOHOBX. sight the bride's veil fluttered out of crtur tk wbite sail gleamed round the jutting the a the little fleet from the village and and wr°iipa and couples who had flocked to doors persed j*8' na^» down to the beach, to gaze, dis- homeg withdrew, gossiping, by the way, to their little ? uP-where the cliffs tewered far above the upon H, 6 ^nlftnd» and the scattered fishing-huts and bv6 ^each» sheltering them from the cold north with • winds—above the vast downs', clothed the _Wa^ng ferns and purple heaths, wheue browsed CPani^re"f°°ted cattle, and where, in sunny nooks and (•ajn les» long since abandoned by prairie and moun- grott — artful speculators erect picturesque the cVff aU(* ^tic chaldts—from up, I say, among an(j 8» the wedding party long remained in view, nj .even where their joyous voices and the merry fori*5 Waa no longer to be distinctly heard, nor the ine m ? ea°k boat's party to be discerned, the floafc- -A '°dy and the glancing track seemed to mingle ooftg in wafts upon the eye and ear, like a ■gDed memory of byegone enjoyments. wafJk n°t' such sort, to the only eyes which still w ?ed hungrily the fading vision; for eyes did j after the village below and the ates of the huts upon the beach had ceased to ga*e. f there had turned their eyes upward, back 01 the sea, to those same cliffs, they would have D, sharply defined, in dark outlines against the ummer sky the figure of a man, erect, motionless, ungpilj out to sea. .bey would have lost sight of him for awhile; then, gain, have caught him in view, dwindled to a line,J* Peck even as they gazed, he would have van^lJ nto nothing; for, as the wedding-party distanced 8 acting-point, and clearing the shore, went wi to sea, or again reached inland to the sr?°°. aters, that eaerer watcher had leaped from stniafc~"1?i8faer' hi*her 8tiU'. t° hold fluttering 1 gazing hungrily, greedily, after that fl e'ii' ilnt° that bridal boat! j ^Jll it vanished—till even to his hawk s vis agonised eagerness there was perception n > nd the snatches of music on the breeze, t g 8 l!Jthe sunshine seemed to mock him. Wretched man that I am! Have me y °b, merciful Heaven!" .a .He. groaned as he fell upon his knees, wilt^ piercing exclamation—lower, lower, and Jo^wer, itill his face touched the ground, till he sank like ona para- !y8ed, and moaned and uttered words maudible*- spasmodic bursts of real suff<<rine. u it has come to this .I shall see her no more b"t a8 his wife—no more! no more! at all, lor 1 cannot live and see her so -After some minutes he rose and gazed w y over the sea, but even the mocienea had ceaeed, only the steady, passive wash of the patient waves far below reached him. Why did I not seize her then ? Why did I not, bv one bold stroke, make her mine for ever ? She dared not have returned after a night's absence! That proud young fool would have scorned her—she must have been inine-she loved meJ—she as good as told me so, by actions and admissions;—I should have made her happy—oh why did I play traitor to myself when opportunity was given me ? Fool! miserable, wretched, hesitating fool that I was! why did I not avail myself of the last, the only change ? He paced to and fro hurriedly he threw back his thick black hair, and seized his broad forehead in his hands, as if he would have hurled it from the cliff his dark, deep-set eyes gleamed with living nre his hot breath seemed to scorch his parted lips, as it panted through thfm^ Why did I not ? he repeated, smiting his side heavily with his arm. Why! because I am become a pitiful, drivelling, whining, abject coward, before the power of this girl! It was not enough that I abandoned a pursuit that I gloried in—forsook my fellows and the goods we shared because in her eyes I might gain favour, and be an honest man-an honest man I" he sneered out the words bitterly, as if he mocked the speaker. And this was not enough, but my arm must become nerveless, my heart turn to gentleness, my hand forget it.. cunning! Titus was, when the sight of a village bridal would not have st iid me in my path one instant. The thought of their happiness !-bah !-am I become a coward ? Saul Megborn, who has dared the dangers of the sea, the fierce pursuit of armed men—who, with the gibbet facing him ashore, the night and tempest on the ocean, never yet knew fear-now shrinking from meeting a few harmless peasants! Nay, it is not that! My lOve was lawful; why should it not have met with suc- cess ? I would have made her my wife I loved her oh, bow I love hfr, in spite of all And she loved me —she did, she must J Why listen to me ?—meet ice ? —receive my first gift—though not the others ? Put she did love me oh, and I hoped, I believed, that the turning-point in my life was come—that the drefy past was done with-the dream! Oh, fool! idiot! miserable fool that I was!" He rushed to the side of the cliff, where the pre. cipitous side shelved off abruptly to the sea beneath, fatho.ns down the black, sharp crags bristling Ip from the seething waters, like the foaming jaws of some mammoth sea monster. His dark eyes gleaned luridly, his swarthy forehead was bathed in feverfrh sweats, his white teeth glittered through the massesOf his raven-hued and curling beard he had thrust bek the loose jacket and shirt; his huge, hairy chest ifte exposed to the sea breeze. He looked more like solle unchained fland, gazing back triumphantly upon the abyss be had escaped, than a man of middle age, aid grand herculean proportions—who had been haifl- some, too-ere life had set one stamp upon his f" tures. Even more terrible than his previous rage was tlte gloomy despair which gradually took possession of his dark features. Now might I end it all," he said to himself in 8 lower tone, still gazing down upon the rocks and beach below. She would understand it all, when they found and told her of the crushed and batttered corpse of the etranger who has puzzled them, I know, these months past." He was silent awhile, then withdrew from the precipice, and let his gaze wander abroad over the sparkling sea. But why should I ? I cannot believe but that she cared for me then, though some idea of duty, per- haps, held her to her bargain with this paltry young fisherman. At any rate, I will not give up—I will not be baffled." He paced to and fro again upon the rock, then stood still, drew about him the large loose coat which covered his sailor dress, and replaced the broad hat which he had thrown aside. I said I would not see them as they returned why not? If she loves me, she will be pleased; if not, that is but a small instalment of what she shall feel. She made me love her, she let me love her, she gave me hope. Lost! I said but why ? Aye, that was in my puling mood I am better now-myself again. She shall yet be mine-mine only. If I live —despite the gay procession to the church this day— if I live, my wife she shall be. To myself I pledge my word, and when did Saul Meghorn lie to him- self?" (Th be continued.)

ADRIAN FLORENT; OR, THE MYSTERY. IN the middle of the fifteenth century, Louvain, in the Netherlands, was a flourishing university town. From the rich commercial cities all around, the: wealthy burghers sent their sons to acquire at least a smattering of polite literature at that seat of learning: and many young noblemen also frequented its' colleges, contributing to the prosperity of tr,8 bwn by the wealth they freely spent, even if they profited little by the educational advantages offered to them by a sojourn at the university. About one of the students there was at that time a mystery, and, as may be imagined, the mysterious scholar soon became an object of interest and; curiosity for his companions, the interest increasing j in proportion with the duration of the mystery which gave it birth. Adrian Florent, the mysterious personage in question, acquired the reputation of being connected with evil powers, and of holding converse with familiar demons. Some there were among the students who even undertook to furnish proofs of his having dabbled in "the black art," and not a few of the bolder and mere turbulent spirits went so far as to assert that Adrian had made a compact with the Evil One himself. The reader will naturally be anxious to know what it was that procured for this student so sinister and unsatisfactory a reputation. He owed it simply to the two following circumstances Adrian Florent, the son of a clotbworker of Utrecht, bad the marvellous power of learning almost, as it appeared, by intuition. His progress was wonderful- His fellow-students, far from being able to, compete with him, were left hopelessly in the rear in the race for academic honours, and were soon content to strive for the victors' wreaths among themselves, leaving Adrian to continue his course as he would, far ahead of them all. This was the first cause of his unpopularity. "How," said these casuists of eighteen or twenty years, could the obscure cloth worker's son, who went abroad in a shabby jerkin and threadbare hose, and had never a broadpiece to spend at the wine- house-how could he surpass them all, despite the advantages they had enjoyed in the way of early training and teachers, without having recourse to unhallowed means ?" It was clearly impossible," said the united wisdom of the student world of Louvam. The second circumstance was a more mysterious one still, and quite in accordance with the supersti- tious ideas of the time. Every evening as twilight fell, when the students were thinking of recreation after the fatigues of ,he day, Adrian would glide away from among them, and, declining all offers of companionship with a courteous but decided bearing, he would take himself away, to reappear at ten or eleven at night, most frequently with hollow cheeks and jaded eyes, in which, however, there burned an unnatural fire. The object or direction of these soli- tary walks he would never divulge, parrying all im- plied hints, and positively declining to answer the direct questions or some of the more eager among his comrades. Once, when closely pressed, he turned haughtily upon them, and m words of withering scorn denounced their meanness, in endeavouring to pry into a matter that concerned himself alone, and which he dbsired to keep hidden. His scorn, while it made them as a^^iied of themselves, roused their anger against him who had so palpably placed them in the wrong; and thus the breach between Adrian Florent and his fellow-etudlmts was widened, and he wandered among them successful, indeed, beyond precedent in his studIes-but a shunned, proscribed, suspected, and consequently an unhappy man. Still the mystery continued. As sure as the shadows of evening fell, the thin, spare form of the y°"n £ ^dent was seen issuing from the college gates, ana, heedless of all scoffers, with a sad smile on his calm pale face, he betook himself to his solitary walk. Each night he would return with the marks of severe mental conflict on his features, to achieve greater and greater triumphs in the lecture-room, and to be' looked upon, in consequence, with increased aversion by the youths, who hated and envied, while they could not equal him. At last they could bear uncertainty no longer; Ri 'j ^^fnl of the reproof their curiosity had a ready received, a party of some twelve betook them- selves, ore n'ght, to the task of parading the city hrough its length and breadth, in the hope of finding the mysterious student. For two hours they walked in vain nowbere could they find a trace of the man they sought, and, as midnight approached, they were about to abandon their search in despair, when one of them suggested that Sr. Peter's Church bad not! yet been visited. The observation was received by the rest with a scornful laugh. St.. Peter's Church!" cried one "by St. James, the young wioard will not have chosen so holy a place for his incan.ations! Nay, but," persisted the first speaker, "let us at any rate try if he be there, for every other spot in Louvain have we traversed twice over." So the students turntd about and made for the fine old church. They made a circuit of the edifice, and were about to retire with a laugh at their companion, at whosesuggeation they had taken so much useless trouble, when, laying his hand to his lips, the young man motioned them to advance silently. "Calebs I am strangely mistaken," he whisperea, he whom we seek is sitting yonder in the light of that lamp, reading." Noiselessly they advanced on tiptoe and there in a secluded corner of the porch, sat the reputed necro- mancer, his eyes bent on a Latin volume, which he was studyiog so eagerly as to be utterly unconscious of their approach. For some moments the intruders stood abashed, unwilling to disturb the pale student, and fearing to retire lest the noise should discover them. Presently, however, he raised his head, and perceived that he had been watched. A scarlet flush mounted to the forehead of Adrian Florent; but presently, recovering himself, he ad- vanced with calm dignity towards his comrades. You have taken some pains, my friends, to dis- cover my whereabouts," he said, smiling, "and it is I but just I should wholly enlighten those who have found out so much for themselves. Know, then, that in coming to the university, I bad the choice of re- maining a burden upon my father, who is, as you may know, a poor man, or of supporting myself as best I may by copying writings and doing any work of that kind I can obtain. I chose the latter, but found it inconvenient to take much time from my studies for the supply of my necessities; therefore, instead of working at parchments to buy candles for myself, I have taken advantage of the lamp our good town council has set up here, to study here, night after night; and that my scheme has not been unsuccessful, I hope to prove at the rext distribution of degrees." But, dear Adrian, the cold!" remonstrated one of his companions it is enough to freeze.you." Adrian stretched out his hand to the speaker, who grasped it cordially. The hand was burning hot. Dear friends," he said, with a smile, the thirst for knowledge is a burning fever, which will scorch a man up, unless he allays it, and the night air is scarce felt by him in whom this fever burns; and now, friends, leave me, for I would be alone." With glowing cheeks and downcast eyes they grasped the student's hand and retired. The after life of Adrian Florent belongs to the history of his country. The pale youth who had sat solitary under the lamp in the church porch, beoime vice-chancellor in the university whose poorest student he had been afterwards was made tutor and chosen counsellor of the Emperor Charles V.; prime minister in Spain and, finally, pope, under the title of Adrian VI.

WE think it should be lawful for one, when he meets a human snake, to bruise the serpent's head. CARLYLE meeting a young man walking alone, asked him with what his thoughts were occupied. Sir," said the young man, pompously, I am speak- ing with myself." Take care always, young man, that you do not talk with a bad man," quietly re- 'joined the old Scotch philosopher. A LADY who had her front teeth filled, was mortified before company," one day, by her little iiece, who, on seeing the gold filling shining as the lady smiled, gravely remarked, Aunt Mary, I wish I had copper-toed teeth like yours." WIFE (who has become an amateur painter): What do you think of the sketch, dear" Husband: Well the drawing of it involved no breach of the lecond commandment, for it is not the likeness of toy thing that is in the Heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or in the waters under the earth. THE BANE AND ANTIDOTB.—I stuck to my tesolution nobly all that evening, and Went to bed tober for the first time since I got out of long clothes. On waking the next morning I by for a few foments Wondering what made my mouth taste so funny, and Mentally resolving to begin with a cold water cocktail to" freshen my nip for the day but concluded ftrit, in accordance with my usual custom, to look ovr the morning paper. The first heading that! struck my attention was Developments Spring Valley Water—Bugs, Snakes, and other Reptiles i Swarming in it—The Lives of our Citizeng Endan- geisd by Drinking it.' I As I read, the full mag- nitude of the new danger I had incurred in trying to esdtpe the old one gradually dawned upon ma. I had aHays known thatall water contained micros<;0piclife, bu1 here was a new revelation. It did not require a I miroscope, so the article said, to see the life in Spring Valey. Monsters of varied forms were visible to the nafed eye.' There were bugs, hair snakes, fleas, lice, nafed fyp.. There were bugs, hair snakes, fleas, lice, anl God knows what not monsters sporting in the j grat reservoirs, and crawling, hopping' and swim- m&g through the pipes of the company, and worse j tbln all, amongst the hideous mass of insect life thus brought to the attention of the public was a quad- ru»ed, centipede, or some other kind of a pede, called a Cyclops." That rather got me. In my school days j I J1.d read of the Cyclops as a race of monsters having butoneeyeia the middle of their foreheads. and fabled to hvve been the bastard sons of the god Vulcan, who obt;ined a permanent job as blacksmith in the burn- ing b>»t l3 of Mount Etna. The Lord save us," thinto I, if these fellows are any relation to that crow(, what a mess I've made of it in dropping whisky for wLter. They'll kick up a worse bobbery in my bowe) then their big brothers did in tbose of Mount Etna. There'll be an eruption As if to make my words good, I began to feel a suspicious sensation all throujjh my inwards," and, jumping out of bed, I rushei to the sideboard and seizing a jog wWch con- tainedabout a gallon, more or less, of Old Rre whisky, I drailed it to the dregs. I began to feel a little better then, trid after dressing and breakfasting I sat down with the two papers before me and re-read each trticle, calmly and dispassionately- I then gave ttyseif up to profound meditation for tile, rest o the day, which was, fortunstellv, Sunday, and fnally came to the sensible »nd reasonable concision that after all everything was ordered for tho best and the community was saved. I decided that at We use one poison as an antidote to another, I had tie remedy right in my own bands. By a judi- cious fixture of whisky and water, the whisky would effectually kill the bugs, "Cyclops," etc., "while the animal organisms in the process of being*11 ed wouid doubtless absorb and neutralise the poisonous ingro- j dients of thfl wiisky, and thus the balance of powef" would be preserved aDd all over- come., Since then I have religiously followed up this idea 4ith the happiest results, nnd I propose to write an article for the Daily Wriggler," elucidating my theory In full, and placing it alongside Pleasl\nton's "'Blue Q-lass Theory," as one of the grand scientific discoveries of the age. A fasrr TO THE MAN IN THE Moon*—-Their attention Was suddenly called off by Jaques etching sight something that looked like a ne"tnreep>nny. piece, and in another second like a big fv'ni»ig tin plate. What's that ? said Jaques. Whue'he was sayiDg this it had grown as big as a dram. "«rhaps it's a giant's dish," said Ranulf. It wae now as big as acireaa. ies getting +oo big for that,ooidJ aqaes. By this time it was as large as a raceeourse, a°°ln *»other second it was too great to be like anyflbi?^' -^orval, who bad been thinking, was just g01?^ 0 say, '♦ Perhaps it's the moon," when the Man in Moon put bis head out at one side. and looking a,, Stumpy as possible, called out-" Hi, you rase8" • what do you tfant here?" He had evidently been wllkened out of a nap by the whirr of the bicycles, for he wore a big red night cap, and had got oniy ODe eve wore a big red night cap, and had got oniy 6ye open. We aren't rascals, said Jaques. « you say that, we'll tell papa." "Oh," said Nor*ah are you the fellow that came down too soon 7" Banulf broke in—" I think you've got up too soon this morning By the bye, did you ever find the way to Norwich, ? The Man in the M jon got quite red with rage at this, opened his other eye, and aimed a bio* 6 ■KaHulf with » b'g stick. "Ha! said Jaques, "thBt8 of the sticks you gathered on Sunday, yoU J1 a)n As hIs arm made the blow, it came nearer the boys and the stick, which had locked only like a porridge-stick got as big as as Nelson's Monument. BaDulf would have been knocked to pieces, but the little man at the back of the bicycle gave a sudden dart to one side the Man in the Moon overbalanced a°j V 18 wife had not caught him by the legs he would av» tumbled off the moon altogether. In strUggling to get up again his night cap fell off, and a breeze of wind carrying it away, left it sticking on one of the moon s horns. They were now getting 80 near the moon that they began "to wonder how they were to pass it. "Jump over, to "be sure," said Jaques. u at would be a tremendous jump!" rephed Itanut. Not at all," said Norval; you know the cow over tbe moon, so it can't be very difficult alter The bicycles began to move a little slower, and the boys bought they were going to stop, but ittuf:ned ou the little men were only gathering themselves og like good hunters, for the spring, for in a moment they gave a whistle, as a train does when it goes into a tunnel, and tbe bicycles bounding UP' r'^ over the top of the moon, the boys keeping their sea in a way that it would be well if some be" or Parliament could imitate. As they passed, too in the Moon, who had come up after bis mgbt cap, shouted "Don't you come here again! and pic e up a stone as big as four hayricks to throw alter t em. But before he could do so hi3 wife, who had come behind him, and wbo had a nose »s big as a s 'P9 long-boat, eyes like paddle-boxes, and a mout) 1 *-e the entrar.ee to a harbour, seized him by the ar,"» hoxed bis ears, and said in a voice loud enough to e heard hundreds of miles off Would you hur dear little things, you old villain ?" .HT1/ villain villain!'iliain .lain! Ian !'ln • cried the> ec in the stars. The Man in the Moon dropped the big stone on his own toes, and muttering, ieticoa- government again pulled his night cup over bis ear. shrugged his shoulders, and went home meekly to brftumt.- Our Trip to Blunderland, oy Jean Jamba**

NEW COLOUHS.—The ingenuity of costumiers in inventing new styles of dress is sometimes almost equalled uy their industry in producing fresh shades of colour wherewith to deck them out. Some of these are not so much invented by the brains of milliners and modistes as originated by Dame Nature her- self, with the aid of chemists or horticul- turists. It is announced that during the past six or seven years the French gardeners have introduced to the world no fewer than 165 distinct new varieties of the rose alone, without mentioning other flowers, and many of these species are not only original in their shape, but also, and perhaps more often, in their colour. It is natural that the hues of these roses should be imitated by the makers of fashionable dyes, and it may not be long before we have ribbons of a Triomphe de France tint and velvets of a Duchesse de Vallambrosa" shade. As for the names, which are not borrowed from flowers or suggested by their long-soundiog titler, they arc christened on all sorts of pretences and with tbo most, various sponsors. Moat of us remember what a hit was made by the inventor who calked bis new colours after the names of great battles in luly, and how the actual victories of Magenta and Solrerino were for a time eclipsed by the glory of the triumphs achieved by the dyes to which they gave a name. 8ltlce that time it, has been the fashion to find ri,nieii aniopgst a more realistic clas» of objects, and the gtva, aim has bten to adapt the colour to some natural object more or l'ER romantic. It is thus that we have had the E*u-de-Nil and the sang de-t ceuf, each of which was a complete success, and it is thus that we now arrive at a very pretty trio of colours which announced as about to be the rage in Paris. f, are the setting sun," the "glare of Vfsnvii,s> the "flumo of punch." It will be » Y^SSwSI lady who cannot suit herself becomingly y out of such a list.—Globe.

VARIETIES. I whatever Midaa touched was turned into gold. In these days, touch a man with gold, and he'll turn into anything. Learning is like mercury, one of the most powerful and excellent things in the world in skilful hands; in unskilful, the most mischievous. If we took as much pains to be what we ought, as we do to disguise what wo are, we might appear like ourselves, without being at the trouble of any disguise at all. VICK8 BEATTTY SPOTS.—-Some Women are apt to think that certain vices in a young man, like moles on a fair skin, are beauty spots; but they soon find out their mistake if they marry one of them. WisDOM IS DimDEXT.—Whoever is wise, is apt to Buspect and be diffident of himself, and upon that account is willing to "hearken unto counsel;" whereas the foolish man, being in proportion to his folly full of himself, and swallowed up in conceit, will seldom take any counsel but his own, and for that very reason, because it is his own. Russian women go out of doors with their children, but seldom with their husbands; and a man is not expected to take notice of another man's wife by bowing to her if she passes him in the streets. One of the sights which surprises a Russian of the mid- land cities most when he goes to St. Petersburg, Moscow, or Odessa is to notice the promiscuous flow of both sexes in the streets and in places of amusement. THE PRESIDENT'S DAY.-The following is the regular programme for the day with President M'Mahon:—He rises at six o'clock, and rings for Francois, his old African valet. Francois brings him a cup of coffee. After the president shaves himself and dresses, he goes to his study and works until half- past eleven, except on days when there is a minis- terial council. At half-past eleven he takes a light breakfast with his family, with whom he afterwards spends a few moments, and then returns to his study for another hour's woi-k. At three o'clock he receives the functionaries who wish to consult him. After- wards, if possible, he takes a ride on horseback, or goes on a hunt. At half-past five he returns and reads the newspaper. Then comes dinner with his family, and sometimes a few friends join him. Official dinners and receptions are given once a week. ORIENTAL WIT.-A young man, going a journey, entrusted a hundred deenars to an old man; when he came back, the old man denied having any money de- posited with him, and he was had up before the Kazee. "Where were you, young man, when you delivered this money?" "Under a tree." "Take ¡ my seal and summon that tree," said the Judge. Go, young man, and tell the tree to come hither, and the tree will obey when you show it my seal." The young man went in wonder. After he had been gone some time, the Kazee said to the old man, He is long—do you think he has got there yet?" "No," said the old man; "it is at some distance; he has not got there yet." "How knowest thou, old I man," cried the Kazee, "where that tree is, a ? i The young man returned, and said the tree would! not come. He has been here, young man, and given his evidence—the money is thine. "Yoble's Orientalist. FEMALE AUTHORS.—A far different person from Lady Morgan is Mrs. Shelley. I passed an evening Lady Morgan is Mrs. Shelley. I passed an evening with her recently. She is sensible, agreeable, and clever. There were Italians and French at her house, I and she entertained us all in our respective languages. She seemed to speak both French and Italian quite j gracefully. You have doubtless read some of Mrs. I Marcet's productions. I have met her repeatedly, and received from her several kind attentions. She is the I most ladylike and motherly of all the tribe of autho- resses that I have met. Mrs. Austin I have seen frequently, and recently passed an evening at her house. She is a fine person-tall, well-filled, with a I bright countenance slightly inclined to be red. She has two daughters who have just entered society. She is engaged in translating the "History of the j Popes," that was reviewed some time ago by Milman in the Quarterly," which she says will be the most important and valuable of the works she has presented to the public.-The Life and Letters of the Hon. Charlet Sumner. FOOTMEN OF GEORGE THE FIRST'S TIMB.-Court, and Parliament being agitated, the lackeys imitated their betters. The footmen, in waiting for their! masters, who were Members of Parliament, had free access to Westminster Hall. For six and thirty years they imitated their masters, by electing a Speaker among themselves, whenever the members made a more exalted choice within their own House. The Whig lackeys were for Mr. Strickland's man. The Tory liveried gentry resolved to elect Sir Thomaa Morgan's fellow. A battle royal ensued in the place of an election. The combatants were hard at it, when the House broke up, and the members wanted their coaches. Wounds were then hastily bandaged, but their pain nursed wrath. On the next night, the hostile parties, duly assembled, attacked each other with fury. The issue was long uncertain, but finally the Tory footmen gained a costly victory, in celebra- tion of which Sir Thomas Morgan's servant, terribly battered, was carried three times triumphantly round the hall. There was no malice. The lackeys clubbed together for drink at a neighbouring alehouse, t where the host gave them a dinner gratis. The dinner was made expressly to create insatiable thirst, and before the banquet came to a close, every man was as drunk as his master.—Dr. Dorant 1.8. A. A CHIP OF THE BLOCK. !—" Train up a child in the way he should go," says a wise writer, and when he is old he will not depart from it." If there is one profession more than another for the trials of which an early application of the above admirable admoni- tion will prove valuable, it is that of music; and anxious parents, eager to give to the world another Beethoven or Mozart, will do well to take heed to Solomon's word, ere they float their offspring upon the fickle sea of the profession. Not the least impor- tant fact he or she should learn is that talent is more or less valuable, and debutants should be able to gauge the true value both of Art and of money. Braliam, was a man who, we should imagine, knew something of the world, and an anecdote told concerning his little boy of five years old shows that somehow or other the had learnt what was worth listening to was also paying for. Here is the tale as told by W. T. Parke in his Musical Memoirs "A gentleman who was in the habit of visiting at Braham's house informed me that he one day asked Braham's little boy to sing a song, which the infant said he would do; if he paid him for it. Well, my little dear,' said the, gentleman, how much do you ask for one ?' 'Sixpence,' replied the child. Oh said the other, ♦can't you sing me one for less?' 'No,' said the, urchin, I can't take less for one, hut I'll sing: you three for a shilling J' "—From Musical JLnecdott*" l by Frederick Crow est. | THE LEGEND OF WILLIAM TELL.-Any one who: wishes to know the results at which researches on this; subject have arrived can easily do so by consulting I the exhaustive work by Professor Rochholz, "Tell und Gessler in Sage und Geschichte," which has been published at Heilbronn. In the historical part oF~his book he gives a full account of the Gessler family, traces the name of Tell through all its forms as a per- sonal or local designation, and discusses all the facts traces the name of Tell through all its forms as a per- sonal or local designation, and discusses all the facts recorded in history which agree with the legendary accounts of the hero and the oppressor. In the other and more generally interesting section he compares the Swiss tale of the patriotic archer's wondrous shot with -the similar legends current elsewhere, and attempts to render manifest the mythological signi- ficance of the whole cycle of stories. And this lie does, not with the wild impulsiveness of so many a reckless exponent of mythologies, but with a moderate enthusiasm ballasted with solid learning and tempered by good sense. Beginning with an account of the popular springtide customs which have preserved the old mythological idea of a conflict between the sun and the frost or the summer ahd the winter, and pro- ceeding to trace the likeness borne by the arrows of the ancient gods and heroes to the rays of the summer sun, he then narrates the various legends existing in different lands about an archer who cleaves an apple placed on some person's head, or performs seme similar act of skill with a bow. Thus we have the Persian story of the king who shoots at and hits an Learning, like money, may be of so base a kind t to be utterly void of use; or, if sterling, may requjL good management to make it serve the purpose sense or happiness. T Misery assails riches as lightning does the highc towers; or, as a tree that is heavy laden with frui breaks its own boughs, so do riches destroy the virtt of the possessor. PERMANENCE OP KiNDNEsa.—Write your name w 1 kindness, love, and tnercy on the hearts of the peop you come in contact with year by year, and you w. never be forgotten. A MASTER BUILDER.—To be a master builder, Y01 materials must be good, the foundations securely lai) and the superstructure duly proportioned; then tf future will affirm your knowledge to have been accura* and your judgment sound. BALLAST v. CARGo.-Some men seem to think th strengthen the barrier against unbelief by increasii the number of things they believe. They tui Romanists out of fear of infidelity, as if a man shoui think that by filling the bottom of his boat wit stones, he keeps the sea farther from him. Ballast good, but it is most profitable when made up of soul cargo.—Dr. J. Ker. in "Sunday Ataqazitie."