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But Harold only nodded at him over the child's head, and then; the Laura of the dancing eyes and sunny smiles; the carried Tom, still sleeping, up the companion on to the deck, bright, loving Laura who had stolen his heart away from and laid him in his little carriage.

him years and years before. There he left him, and he never saw him again ; but the I'he South-Eastern Railway and her Majesty's steamer touch of those clinging arms about his neck had been very Sarmphire, the best boat on the station,'” she said, giving sweet to him, and had done his aching heart more good him one of her old saucy smiles. than a whole week of worldly distractions could have done. Still there was no unbending on his part.

The tide was nearly low when they reached Calais, and “ Do they know at home that you are here?” consequently the passengers had a long walk up the pier “ Edward doesn't. I sent him to town to get him out of before they arrived at the railway station. And very cold the way. Rosa aided and abetted me in my wickedness." and wet and cross and miserable did most of them look as “She never let you come alone?. they entered the warm, brightly-lighted Salle d'Attente. “ No, Phæbe is with me — in the body at least; but she The shelter was welcome indeed. The “ buffet,” after all has been so wofully sea-sick for the last two hours, that I the hardships they had just gone through, looked especially believe in spirit she is still tossing up and down in the cabin inviting; and within five minutes of their arrival nearly of the steamer. One of the sailors had almost to carry her every one of the little tables with snowy table-cloths which on shore, and I left her just now sitting by the waiting-room stood about the room was occupied by its own little group fire, utterly oblivious of all things in heaven and earth.” of travellers, who were busy discussing steaming soup, or But she could not bring a smile to his lips even yet. cups of coffee. It is a strange fact, but it is nevertheless Now, Laura, tell me what this all means," he said, in true, that the first thing nine persons out of ten do upon the same stern tone. landing after a sea voyage is to begin to eat.

She clasped both her hands about his arm, and her voice “ How long before the train starts for Paris ?” Col. trembled for the first time as she made answer:Clive asked of a railway official standing by.

It means this, Harold ; that either you must go back " Une bonne demi-heure, monsieur” (Rather more than half to England with me, or I am going on to Paris with you, an hour), was the answer he received.

for I never mean to leave you again." He was not hungry; but he felt faint and wearied. Car- “ Does it mean any thing more than that, Laura ?” he rying little Tom up those steep stairs had tired him more asked, in a low, pleading voice: he was shaking like a man than he could have believed possible. So he walked up to who had the ague now, but he could not bring himself to the neat-looking young French woman who was officiating put the question in a plainer form, as he had done that time behind the counter, and asked for a glass of cognac and a in the Aberdeen prison. Could it be that the cup of hapbiscuit. As he did so, he heard some one on his left-hand piness, which once more seemed so near to his lips, was to siile make a request, in a low voice and in very fair English- be dashed away again, as it had been that night ? No, not French, for a cup of hot coffee.

this time. She hid her blushing face upon his arm (she * Madame" smiled, and promised prompt attention to could not have reached his shoulder if she had tried), and both customers, and then went away to execute the orders. then came the whispered words which his very soul had

The very moment her back was turned a hand was laid longed to hear : on Harold's arm, and the same voice, speaking in English, "Yes, Harold, it does mean something more than that. now said,

It means that your wife has come to her senses at last, and “ I should be glad to speak to you, Col. Clive, if you could has found out that she loves you with her whole heart.” spare me a few minutes.'

The station and every thing in it began to swim round He turned quickly round, and saw that it was the lady and round before his misty eyes, and something seemed to in the red hood, and that the lady in the red hood was come up in his throat and choke him. But he had manliLaura !

ness enough left to take her in his arms, and hold her in such Laura's very self, and not a mocking apparition, as he a close embrace that she could scarcely breathe. had been tempted to think at first. His heart gave one “ And how did my wife come to make this wonderful disgreat bound, and then it seemed of a sudden to stand quite covery ?” he faltered out at last. still, so utterly astounded was he to see her at such a time A voice came from somewhere among the folds of his fur and in such a place.

coat: “Don't hug me to death, you dear old bear, and I'll But he made no loud exclamations.

tell you if I can." “ Laura! you here?” he said with a sort of gasp.

Stop a minute!" and Harold Clive gave a little low happy “ Hush! don't say any thing more, don't take any notice. laugh, such as no one who knew him had heard him give for How all these people do stare !” she said in a hurried whis

Come out of that, little one; I want to kiss per, and turning away her head. “ Follow me presently on to the platform. The train is not to start for nearly an But the little one did not seem disposed to come “out of hour, and there is not a soul there. I must speak to you, that.” She only clung the closer to his arm; so he took her Harold."

blushing face into his hands, and kissed her on the eyes and She slipped quietly away from his side, was lost for a cheeks and lips, till she fairly cried for mercy. moment among the crowd of other passengers, and then Now, tell me how it was." passed through the glass doors of the waiting-room on to “ There is not much to tell,” she answered, gasping for the platform beyond.

breath, “except that I must have been blind and deat and Harold stood some few seconds just where she had left dumb, and mad too, I think, when you were with me this him, wondering whether it was all a dream. But she was sin- morning. I forgot every thing, forgot the locket which I gularly calm, considering that his heart was beginning to had had ready for you for a week. I let you go, knowing beat with a wild hope that he dared not stop to analyze. all the while that I should be miserable while you were He swallowed down the little glass of cognac which was away, and yet I had not the courage or the wisdom to stop handed to him, for he had need of some such stimulant, paid you, as I should have done. But when I came to read your for it, and then slowly walked away, and followed Laura on dear letter afterwards, then I thought my heart would break. to the platform, as she had bidden him do.

It would have broken, I believe, if I had not thought of this. The train was already in waiting which was to bear the I could not write to you, and so, you see, I came." English mails and passengers to Paris; but there seemed “ Brave little girl,” he murmured, stroking her hair, for Do one about, except that at the extreme left, under the last the red hood had fallen back. “ How did you manage it? lamp-post, stood the lady in the red hood.

Tell me." Harold went straight up to her, and without even hold- “Well, there was no time to lose. The first thing was to get ing out his hand, said, in a voice which sounded strangely rid of Edward, and Rosa helped me, as I said. Phæbe stern,

packed just a very few things in a carpet-bag (you will have to “ Laural what in the world has brought you here?” buy me some new dresses, sir, the moment we get to Paris), It was the old Laura Sartoris who looked up at him and then she and I came up by an evening train to London.

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I mcant to have been at Charing-cross in good time, but our on the other, hidden beneath a lock of dark hair tinged cab broke down in going from station to station, and we with gray, lay her wedding-ring. only arrived just before the train started. I should never “Harold, I told you that I was dumb to-day, and so I was have known you were there, if I had not seen Edward and – spell-bound, as it were. My heart ached for you when I Brown speaking to you at the carriage door. I was so saw your eye rested on my finger, and missed this from its frightened of being seen, not by Edward, dear old blind proper place, and yet I could not tell you then, that I bave thing, but I thought your sharp eyes would find me out; worn it here” (touching her bosom) ever since you gave however, you were busy talking, so I slipped by. And then it to me. Night and day I have never parted with it; and again at Dover, when I made that false step in going on to they tell me, that when I was ill and delirious I never the boat, it gave me such a turn. I thought it was all over would let it out of my hand. I did think I would wear with me; if I had fallen, you must have found me out, for it to-night,” she added in a lighter tone. “ I fancied it I knew you were close behind. I felt somehow that you would look more “proper' perhaps, if any one watched were there.

How awfully rude you must have thought me, me travelling alone; but then the thought came into my Harold, never to thank you for saving me!”.

head that no one, not even I myself, had any right to put it “ Yes, very rude,” he answered dryly. “I took you for on again except you. And now, Harold,” she whispered a delicate old lady, and thought the roll of the vessel was caressingly, “you must marry me over again. Put on my too much for you, you darted off in such a hurry to the ring, dear, and say the right words once more; for we did cabin."

not say them quite properly that day, I think." “Yes, into the cabin I went, as you say; and there I lay · We did not do or say any thing quite properly that day, all the way over:

I was not ill, but I could not move hand Laura. We will have the Church's blessing on our marI could use my eyes though, and to some purpose riage before many more hours are over. The next boat too. From where I was lying I could see straight into the shall take us back to England,” (“ Poor Phæbe!” murlarger cabin, and I saw you, sir, up to old tricks as usual, mured Laura), “and we shall be at Richmond early towith that poor little boy. Harold, if I had never loved you

Edward shall marry us in his own church, the before, I believe I should have learned to love you then; but next day, by special license, if necessary; and after that, he made me quite jealous once, when you were carrying him you shall go to the end of the world with me, if you will. In up stairs; he was in my place, you see, and I knew that he the meantime, you shall have it your own way, little one, had driven me out of your thoughts for the time.”

as you always do.” “ But I can't conceive why you should have avoided me He held up her left hand; and as he slipped the ring on so carefully all the way, when your object was to come up to the wedding-finger, he repeated, half" playfully, half with me at last. Why did not you stop me at Dover ? " said seriously, the words of the marriage service: * With this Clive.

ring I thee wed; with my body I thee worship; with all my “ And be sent back by the next train, like a naughty worldly goods I thee endow." child. Thank you, that wouldn't have suited me at all. " That's lucky !” exclaimed Laura, breaking into a merry And a nice scene there would have been on Dover pier, with little laugh; " for I lost my purse coming off the boat, and all the porters and the sailors looking on. Besides, you never I have only a fourpenny piece and three sous in my pocket; would have known how much in earnest I was. You can't and how ever I should have paid for that cup of coffee I send me back alone now, Harold,” she added, giving her had the audacity to order just now, if you hadn't been here, head a little defiant toss. " I have compromised myself too I have not the least idea." much."

That laugh was the sweetest music that had sounded in Yes, you have compromised yourself finely,” he an- Harold Clive's ear for many a long ay; but it was too swered, looking down upon her with a curious sort of smile. much for his poor little wife. Before the last words were “ What will the world say to this escapade of yours, Laura, out of her mouth, she broke down, and burst into tears. I should like to know ? "

“O Harold !” she cried, throwing her arms round his “ Say? What say they ?, Let them say, she answered neck, and hiding her head upon his breast,“ my husband! indignantly, quoting the well-known old Scottish motto. mine to have and to hold, in sickness and in health; mine “What can they say, Harold,” she went on," except that I to cherish and obey; and, thank God I can say it now, have run away to France with my own husband; and there mine to love till death us do part.” can be no great harm in that.”

And Col. Clive bent his head until his gray moustache “ Your old husband, you mean."

touched his wife's face; and as he pressed his trembling « Old !” she exclaimed. “ How dare you call yourself | lips upon her cheek, ho said, “ Amen." old ?"

“You called me an old bear yourself just now," he said, laughing, and evidently glorying in the recollection. " That's quite a different thing. I may call you what I

FOREIGN NOTES. choose. But you are not old, Harold; you were only forty on your last birthday, I know; and what's that ? The YOUNG Paris is grumbling because no publio bals masvery prime of life; quite a young man, in fact. Never call qués are allowed in the capital this winter. yourself old again, if you please.'

The first volume of Forster's “ Life of Charles Dickins “ Too old for you, my darling," he answered fondly. has caused a general re-reading of “ David Copperfield.” “You look ten years younger than you did at Aberdeen, Laura.”

London Fun thinks that Tennyson's last poem ought to “ And so will you very soon, if I take you in hand. I'll

have been published in the Law Journal, because it's a answer for it, Dr. Laura will do you more good in a week

power of a tourney! than the whole College of Physicians could.”

The revisers of the New Testament have proceeded in “Very likely, Mrs. Clive.”

their labors as far as the second chapter of St. Luke's “ My new name," she said, with a little blush ; “

Gospel. has ever called me so before. And O Harold, that puts me in mind. Come here with me; I have something to

We learn from a foreign paper that an American misshow you, something for you to do."

sionary, sent to Calcutta to convert the Hindoos, has become She drew him with her towards the nearest lamp, so that

a disciple of Keshub Chunder Sen and been formally the light might fall on something she was holding in her hand

received into the Brahmo-Somaj church. It appears that beneath her cloak. It was a gold locket, the fac-simile of

the American missionary has caught a theological Tartar. the one she had sent to him by her brother.”

The Pall Mall Gazetle, having mistaken Mr. F. W. " See here," she said ; and as she spoke she touched the Loring for the gentleman who pulled the stroke-oar of the spring, and it flew open.

Harvard crew in its competition with Oxford, corrects its On one side was an old vignette likeness of her husband; error, and falls into another by saying that the late Mr.

66

no one

- Loring was the author of a poem entitled “Fair Harvard,” of a Raphael (now exhibiting in London)

which at first he having, reference, probably, to Mr. William Everett's valued at £40,000 ($200,000), and now offers for £25,000. clever little story with that title.

The Athenæum says that “ the latter sum is probably about

double the value of the painting; £12,000 or £13,000 would A SUBSCRIPTION has been opened in Paris for the benefit of the widows and children of the unfortunate gendarmes

be an enormous sum for a picture which has been so severe

ly rubbed and unfortunately repaired in many parts as this who were so cruelly shot by the Communists in the Rue Haxo, after having been kept in prison more than two

one. Nevertheless, it has many qualities of inestimable months. The credit of opening this subscription belongs

beauty ; few Raphaels of this size are likely to come into the to M. de Villemessant. The Government, which compen

market, and the history of this one is complete, if that is sated the President of the Republic so handsomely, seems

worth any thing in a case where all we care about is the

proper merits and the condition of the painting. A corresto have done nothing for these unfortunate and innocent

pondent urges that the well-known Murillo was bought from victims of the late contest in the streets of Paris.

the Soult collection for the Louvre for £24,000, as if that M. COURBET, the artist, who extinguished himself during were any thing but ' fancy price, one far beyond the true the reign of the Commune, receives a great many visits in value of the picture. There is a superb little panel, with a St. Pélagie; but does not get all the indulgence he asks for. man's head by Antonella da Messina, in the Salon Carré of He wanted space for a large studio, which has been not un- the Louvre, which cost £9,000; but this is one of the very naturally refused. He has a palette, paint brushes, and a rarest treasures of art, much scarcer in its kind than the box of colors; but complains of want of light. A request Raphael, and quite perfect. Besides, £9,000 was an absurd that a particular model might be allowed to attend him price, even for the panel. The Garvagh Raphael was daily was not complied with. He is consoling himself at bought for the National Gallery a few years since at a price present by painting flowers, and expresses a hope that in compared with which even £25,000 is moderate for the much his dark room he may not forget the effects of sunlight. He more interesting work which is now in question. But behas only three months more to remain in prison.

cause we were extravagant with regard to the little Virgin Last month died one of the most remarkable singers who

and Child,' and the French were outrageously lavish in the belonged to the French Opera during the Meyerbeer period, give £25,000, much less £40,000, for the St. Antonio Raph

case of the showy Murillo, it does not follow that we shall the celebrated basso `Levasseur called in his early days " basso cantante,” to distinguish his style from that of

ael. Besides, it is averred by many that the published the ordinary bass of that time, who took part in concerted

price of the Murillo was not the true one." pieces, but was never intrusted with a solo.

Levasseur

The correspondent in Lorraine of a Berlin paper (the was the original Bertram in “Robert le Diable," his associ- Landeszeitung) reports that the census lately ordered by the ates being Nourrit, Mlle. Falcon, and Mme. Dorus Gras; authorities in that province gave the French inhabitants a and some idea of his versatility may be formed from the fresh opportunity of showing their animosity towards the fact that he “created” the parts of Bertram in “ Robert le German Government. Only two persons in the whole of Diable,” Ankastrom in “ Gustave III.,” Marcel in" Les the province volunteered to act as census clerks, and the Huguenots,” Olifour in “Le Dieu et la Bayadère" Fontu- people seemed to be under the impression that the inscripnarose, the quack doctor in “Le Philtre” (the original of tion of their names on the census lists signified that they

L'Elisir d'Amore "), and (at least at the French Opera) were registered as Prussians, and would be compellcu to acLeporello in “Don Giovanni.

cept the Lutheran religion “and become Freemasons.” One The unrestrained gushing of the English press over the

of the agents, on coming to a peasant with his list, was reillness of the Prince of Wales is not less surprising than

ceived with the following words : " What do you want of the poor gentleman's unlooked-for recovery, if he has re

me? Are we not already Prussians, and is it necessary covered. It has long been understood that the heir appar

that this should appear on paper? I won't answer any of ent was by no means popular with the English people;

your questions." A second peasant exclaimed: his private character is none of the best, and he has shown

not ashamed of yourself, as a Frenchman, to go about with few of those winning qualities which make royal sins seem

a Prussian list in order to give us up to Prussia ?” amiable. Yet the entire press of England, and especially

third, on being asked the place of his birth, said he was the London press, has kept up one surprising wail of lamen

born at Gravelotte,“ where the Prussians were well thrashed.”

The census clerk next went to a devout woman of the viltation, as if it were the blameless King Arthur or Tennyson's

lage. “ Albert the Good” who lay at the point of doom. The

On seeing him, she rose from her chair in great exIrish do not appear to take in the situation. Dis

citement, saying, “ What do you want? Is it true, then, papers cordant voices come from Ireland. That “the young man

that they wish to rob us of our faith and sell us to the Freeknown as Albert Edward, Prince of Wales,” didn't die

masons? For God's sake don't put my name on that paper!” when he was expected to, is looked upon almost as an addi

No, mother,” added her daughter, "you will not give tion to Ireland's accumulated wrongs.

your name.

They want to betray us; we will not become

Lutherans, or Freemasons either.” It would seem as if science were about to make cows fuperfluous. Artificial milk has been prepared by a French

“ ENGLAND," says the Paris Tempsis the only country chemist from sugar, dried whites of eggs, carbonate of soda,

in Europe where the Government is sufficiently firmly esolive-oil, and water. By substituting gelatine for the whites

tablished, and where respect for the liberty of citizens has of eggs, and with less admixture of water, cream is obtained.

so far become a custom that orators may, without making Another chemist, Gaudin, in discussing the preceding sus;

any one uneasy or being themselves disquieted, go from gestion, gives his testimony as to the depriving fats of all

town to town carrying on publicly a campaign against the unpleasant odor by mere subjection to an appropriate tem

Government of the country. It is known that a young perature. He also states that very good artificial milk can

member of Parliament, Sir Charles Dilke, has been makbe prepared from bones rich in fat, by purifying this fat by

ing a tour through England, attacking at meeting after means of superheated steam, and combining the fat thus ob

meeting Queen Victoria, the administration of her housetained with gelatine. This milk is, he says, almost like that

hold and the Civil List, and in short, preaching the Repubof the cow; and when kept, acquires first the odor of sour

lic. At Leeds, as at Chelsea and Bolton, it was the police milk, then that of cheese." The gelatine in it represents the

who protected the Republican orator against the crowd by caseine; the fat, the butter; the sugar, the sugar of milk.

maintaining some kind of order at those meetings. Sir It serves for the preparation of coffee and chocolate, of soups,

Charles Dilke is now preparing to renew his campaign in and creams of excellent flavor, and its cost is but trifling.

London itself, and this time under the auspices of the InArtificial chops and pieces of beef for roasting will come

ternationale, of which he has just been elected a member. Mr. John Hales, the secretary of that society, has officially

declared that in the Internationale Citizen Dilke was genThe Duke of Ripalda is lucky enough to be the owner erally admitted to have a claim to be the first President of

6 Are you

And a

next.

The remuneration to Mr. Dickens, judged by his after

received a lawyer's letter, stating that Mr. Dickens would not be ready for three or four months, and an advertisement appeared showing that Mr. Dickens was about to publish elsewhere a novel, which, according to his arrangement with my father, he was not at liberty to do, until he had completed Barnaby Rudge. The separation between them then took place, and Mr. Dickens bought back the copyright and stock of Oliver Twist, and discontinued the editorship of the

. success, might appear inadequate, but it must be borne in mind that when my father signed an agreement for two novels of Mr. Dickens for £1,000, he had not then written any work which showed the power of a novelist, and that a great literary journal itself compared the young author's reputation to the flight of a rocket, and predicted that it would come down like a stick. Supposing my father had held Mr. Dickens to his original agreement, he might have been thought to act with illiberality, but he would have been still within his rights; and without the imputation of casting “a network of agreements” around Mr. Dickens. This he did not do, and that succession of agreements followed of which complaint is made in the biography, but every one of which was more in favor of Mr. Dickens than the last — a conclusive proof at whose instigation they had been changed."

the Republic.' Some members had thought of Citizen Gladstone, but the young baronet was preferred to him.” For all this, England is not particularly gracious towards its Fenian orators.

CERTAIN passages in Mr. Forster's “Life of Charles Dickens," touching Dickens's early literary relations with Richard Bentley, have drawn forth a letter from George Bentley, the son of the famous old publisher. " I should mention," writes Mr. Bentley, “that on my father's death, his papers coming into my possession, I made overtures through a mutual friend of Mr. Forster and myself, for the destruction of any letters that bore reference to a former disagreement between Mr. Dickens and my father. I desired this, because I knew that the most cordial relations existed between Mr. Dickens and my father for many years prior to their death, and I felt sure that nothing could be more opposed to the genial temper of both parties than the public discussion of a disagreement that each party had long forgotten. My application to Mr. Forster was without result, and Mr. Forster professed not to understand the meaning of the application itself.

I will give, in as brief a manner as I can, the details of the connection between Mr. Dickens and my father. It was in March, 1836, that Mr. George Hogarth first introduced Mr. Dickens to him. At this time Mr. Dickens was little known to the public, and at this interview my father, who had read some papers of his, the famous Sketches, proposed to Mr. Dickens to write two works of fiction for £1,000, and an agreement to this effect was entered into and signed on August 22, 1836.

In October, 1836, my father projected his Miscellany, which was to be a monthly periodical devoted principally to papers of a humorous kind. On the 4th of November, 1836, Mr. Dickens entered into an agreement with him to edit this periodical for £20 a month, this sum of course not to include payment for any of his own contributions.

The work became a success, that success, in my opinion, having been not inconsiderably heightened by the famous illustrations of Mr. George Cruikshank; and in March, 1837, Mr. Dickens showing symptoms of dissatisfaction with his agreement, my father agreed to modify the arrange

A new agreement was drawn up on March 17, 1837, and Mr. Dickens therein agreed to edit the Miscellany for a further £10 a month, conditional on the sale, and signed an agreement to that effect to be in force for five years.

These concessions, however, so far from producing the desired effect on Mr. Dickens, led to a further demand for a change in the month of September, of the same year; Mr. Dickens, taking offence at an alleged interference on the part of my father in the editorship of the Miscellany, demanded fresh terms. This difficulty was got over by a fresh agreement, the fourth, in which the Miscellany was to be edited for £360 a year, and the two novels were to be paid for at the price of £750 each, instead of £500 as first agreed, or £600 as by Mr. Dickens's own proposition in his letter to my father, dated July 14, 1837. On the 22d of September, 1838, a new agreement under seal was executed, and it was supposed by my father that this would really be final. But it was not so, for in the month of February, 1839, Mr. Dickens again became dissatisfied, and refused to continue the editorship of the Miscellany. After a good deal of discussion and correspondence, fresh agreements were entered into, one for Oliver Twist and the Miscellany, and the other wholly referring to Barnaby Rudge, for which my father agreed to pay £4,000. By these agreements Mr. Dickens stipulated that he would complete Barnaby Rudge by the 1st of January, 1840, and that he would not commence any other work until such time as the work which he had agreed to finish for my father should be completed; and in the same agreement it was stipulated that it was the intention of both parties that the work in question (Barnaby Rudge) should be the next work written and published by Mr. Dickens. In December, 1839, my father announced Barnaby Rudge ; on the 16th he

SHALL WE EVER MEET AGAIN?

SHALL we ever meet again
In the woodland by the sea ?
Will the moment bringing pain
To the heart, and to the brain,
Come again to thee and me?
Shall we hear again the moaning
Of the ocean to the shore,
Like the ever low intoning
Of a celebrant, Lenore,
Shall we ever meet again?
Ah me, that Joy should borrow
A thorn to wound the heart
From the palc-red rose of Sorrow!
Adieu ! for we must part.
We may never meet again
In the woodland by the sea;
But the song, and the refrain,
Which we sang beside the main,
Will be ever dear to me.
There is no sun that shineth
But hath its spot of shade;
The brightest day declineth,
And sweetest roses fade.
We may never mect again.
Ah me, that Love should borrow
A thorn to wound the heart
From the pale-red rose of Sorrow!
Adieu ! for we must part.

EDWARD CAPERA.

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EXAMPLE FOR THE LADIES. — Mrs. L. SLOPER, Cottonwood Falls (formerly of Leavenworth), earned, in dressmaking, with a Wheeler & Wilson Machine, in 654 months, $13,340 ; in 1866 she earned $4,250; in December. 1867, $135. The machine has been constantly employed since 1861 without a cent for repairs.

EVERY SATURDAY:

A JOURNAL OF CHOICE READING.

Vol. I.]

SATURDAY, JANUARY 20, 1872.

[No. 3.

CITY LIFE IN THE CAPITAL OF THE OEZBÉGS. southern mountain-range viâ Majan, Herat from the road

through Khodsha Abdulla Ansari, Bokhara from the road at BY ARMINIUS VAMBERY.

Karakul; so a traveller should approach Khiva by the

road from Merv or Deregöz through that part of the KaraTHERE the boundless Hyrcanian desert approaches the kum (black sand) which extends, like a tongue, to the

Oxus, a river in central Asia, celebrated far back in an- walls of the town. Here we come at once from a bottomcient history, which, bending here at a right angle, takes its less waste of sand to verdant meadows, from the region of ourse northwards to Lake Aral, lies Khiva, the capital of tamarisks to delightful elms and poplars, from the chilling he Khanat Khiva, situated on the right bank of the chan- aspect of death to the luxuriance of life and vegetation. nel or arm of the Oxus, called Hazreti Pehlivan. Striking, The outward appearance of this capital, together with the ndeed, is the contrast between this tract of land, on the square citadel, rising in the centre, and separated by four ight bank of the river, so famous for its fertility, and the gates from the rest of the town, offers little or nothing of leserts and fathomless oceans of sand, which extend on all interest to the eye accustomed to Asiatic memorials, or of xides as far as the eye can'reach; but quite as striking and what would satisfy his expectation of a capital. To wander emarkable is the difference between the social relations through this chaos of houses and crenellated courtyards of the Oezbegs, as exhibited in Khiva, their capital, and would not repay the trouble. We will merely present the chose of all the other Asiatic nations, not excepting their reader with a bird's-eye view, and make him in this manner immediate neighbors in Persia and Bokhara.

acquainted with Khiva. Restrained by the formidable barrier of this perilous Let us go aloft. The compact mass of houses, in which desert, Asiatic conquerers have seldom, and then only for a a couple of narrow and crooked streets are distinguishable, short time, made the ancient Khahrezm the arena of their is the citadel, just mentioned, Itsh-Kale, the residence of savage deeds of arms. Whilst its eastern neighbor, the the sovereign and some of the principal functionaries, and ancient Sogdiana, lay on the high-road along which the where the bazar and the higher order of medresses are mighty waves of Altaic nations rolled westward from the situated. Round this inner quarter of the city extend far valley of the Thian-Shan Mountains, or the inspired sons and wide the gardens and public squares. Eastward lies of Arabia once advanced victorious as far as Kashgar and the quarter Or Rehin Bendi, and farther off, to the southYarkend, leaving behind them on the Zerefshan traces of east, the reservoir Bala Hauz, with the bazar of the barbers their power, Khiva, situated farther distant, has been com- contiguous to it, just as in Bokhara, and, if I am correctly paratively exempt from foreign influence. Dshingis and informed, in Khokand and all the larger towns of central Nadir alone sent hither a portion of their troops. The for- Asia. Looking southward, we see, in all its extent, the mer maintained his supremacy a few short months, the lat- large quarter Jeni Bazar; to the west, Jeni Kale and ter only a few weeks. The rude and impetuous nature of Rafenek; to the north, Bahdshe, with the reservoir of its inhabitants, and the still ruder spirit of the nomadic the same name. This confused mass of large and small tribes on its borders, have always been powerful obstacles to buildings, seen from above, may be any thing, but does not foreign invaders. No wonder then, that in spite of Islam- convey the impression of a capital; and, but for the few ism, and a few surviving traces of Iranic refinement, we scattered monuments, marked by their ornament of glazed discover in Khiva the genuine spirit of ancient Niguric civ- tiles, which rise from the multitude of yellow clay dwellilization, and the impress of that primitive Turco-Tataric ings, there would be literally not a single point on which life, which at the present day we meet with nowhere in Tur- the eye could rest, for a change from its fatigue. kestan, nowhere in western Asia, nowhere else among the The finest view is from the short tower of the Medemin Turco-Tataric tribes but here. It is, therefore, well worth College. This tower was intended to have been a third the trouble to make a small excursion to Khiva, in order to part higher than it is at present, but the death of its builder obtain a nearer view of this picture. In books of travel a frustrated his plan. From this point appear the domereader finds but faint and meagre outlines. Two Russians, shaped roofs of the medresse Ali Khuli Khan, the elegant Muravieff and Butenieff, and five Englishmen, Abbott, Con- dome of the Hazret i Pehlivan, and some private dwellingolly, Shakspeare, Richmond and Thompson, who have been houses. Farther south-east, the mosque Shaleker strikes my predecessors in the present century, have not been able the eye. The public squares, the tanks of dirty water, and to furnish us with more than scanty reports, in consequence

the subterranean baths, form a very disagreeable prospect, of the thick veil of mistrust and reserve which, on their dip- and it is a refreshing relief to the spectator to look beyond lomatic mission, obscured their area of observation. They these ancient and modern monuments of Oezbeg architecdwelt at some distance from the town, in the summer-palace, ture, upon the chain of pretty summer-houses on the right called Abdul Aziztöre Havlisi, the usual residence of am- and left, with their gardens luxuriant with vegetation, which bassadors, and could observe Oezbeg life only so far as it skirt the fore-ground of the horizon. Nature often puts presented itself to them within the narrow circuit of their art to shame, but nowhere more conspicuously than in official abode. They were not allowed to move freely about, Khiva. So much for the external aspect of the capital; we to have intercourse with the people, or to gain even an oc- will now make a small tour round the interior, and inspect casional insight into their daily life. Can I then be blamed, the daily life of its inhabitants. if from among my reminiscences of the part I played of a A summer's morning in Khival how infinitely its charms sainted Mollah, an honored guest from Constantinople, surpass the poisonous atmosphere of low-lying Bokhara, I should wish to give some particulars of daily life at and many other places in Turkestan, familiar to me! The Khiva ?

air, although only for a short time, is of marvellous purity: As Constantinople must be seen from the Bosporus, to An indescribable, solemn stillness reigns throughout all make the most favorable impression, Ispahan from the nature; and it seems as if the silent image of the surround

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