A VU A„c howl in the moonligMnl^ card »f "the window to ae« the Mgbt^ hJ I **"Vfhat I ever knew Ithe^^^yonlandtwobytwo. „os=cd and on they L i they Pf*:"all from first to laet r,msfe.lo«B "" Ji ht of the lane, Im in^^chffi the heavy shadow again. i^atcs marchin? as when we played "'i?J^onre-but now more staid '"'^^.^e the strangest sight to me "^.^rP drowned, 1 knew, in the awful gea bo were dro aightand hundsoaic too, folk; hent and weak. L „mp that I loved, ond gasped to speak to; '"' "^n a day in their churchyard bed tfsome that I had not known were dead. Inn? crowd, where each seemed lonely, tf f;.t 01 ihem all thei-e was one, one only, f„, ra sed her head, or looked my way Ed she seemed to linger, but might not stay. on a moving bridge they made CLSw'tHe moon-stream troin shade to shade E^g and old, women and men nr ion but remembered then. forgot, A first there came a bitter lausrhter, A p souDd of tears a moment after aB=" ....,:„ „„ irft-v and gay Ed then a music so Ipfty^and gi fft every morning, day by day, fc^,etorecallit.fImay^..^^ iam Allingham. MY COUSIN ALIOK. cox CLUE ED. Il itavedtwo monlhs in Ireland. It was L a vciy happy time, though we saw a feat dtal of company, and went out every hnin'i when we were not ourselves enter- linin'" 'She was a ery wasteful woman, Kth utue of my motlier's sweetness and ain^ wavs to soften her character, and he set all ber wits to work to force me into Imarriaire wth a wealthy Irish gentleman |ho made mo an offer dui iag my stay. But Icoulil not yield either to persuasions or Immandj, for I did not even like hi:n, much love iiiiii, and she was displeased with le andi, ot course, was unhappy. I think lo'ther ouldhave no tthcroughlj' understood Lnt Celia's disposition or she would not tve s-nt mo tostay withher, I feel sure. 3t as 1 had made up my inmd to write to ^1 aiul tell lier about it, and beg her to lir me to come home, I received one loni her instead, tellincj me that Cousin [lick had arrived quite unexpectedly and las staying at our house. • Yuu will like to see," she wrote, " for, [I remember, you and he were great friends tar= ago. tie is so altered, so much im- toved.ue are all so pleased with him. If Idu can make up your mind to leave your mt's gay circle I should like you to return me at Oiice Alick is eager to see you, I think h^; will be surprised at thealter- t;oii in you." Who is this Causin Alick " inquired my :, V, ith a sh.arp look at mef rom under her rowj '.vncii i showed her my mother's Itter. â- ;b is lachern nephew, Aunt Celia, and h-en uat i 1 India, since he was twenty- •Jiis: Uo'.v long ago was that?" jii yeais â€" yes, ho must be thirty- vov:. ' •' :.e veil off?" 'i i'elieve so." 'H'm ' ajrain, with ancther sharpglauce tmy c!iaiii;ini face. " VVeli, perhaps you fid hotter go, child." Ikne.v what was in her niin;l, ar.d it ade ine ashamed, and yet my heart leaped tgh wiiii joy at the thought of meeting him i Mroto to my mother, telHng her lowgiad I .-hould be to come home, but as py dcli'.erance was near I reserved the (tury 0* my trouble.' until I should see her. said, o! course, that I should be very lleased tii meet Cousin Aliek aa;ain, bat no Ford 01 liie heart-gladness which I really t passevl my lips, or rather my pen. '!y letter was answe-ei in a few days by ny lather in person, who came to pay a lliurt vi-i: ;o Aunt Celia as well as to fetch ne !iu:no. Oh, iur.v i:. tolerably long the time seemed )U];-hu\v that v.eek dragged by â€" spent 'p!eas_;utly by my lather iii shooting ex- ^editi i\A and ether excursions of pleasure kith Aunt Ctlia's Irish friends. He knew I wanted to cnme, but he had no idea of evti'f.f unrest whicii possessed ine â€" he did |iott!iink th.at a v/eek inore or Isss con d nake any ditierence to me, while the pre- lious time of .AlI ck's stay was being wasted, pd he i'.;igh,t be returning to India soon for lUlkuew. And when he had smoked and [hot and chatted one week away, he actually propos â- 1 staying another, and would certain- havL carried out his intention i ad he not fiiane.l to catch my eye at that moment, seeing, J am afraid, some regretful ex- fre-s-ic..!! t;:(,reii), altered his mind. "No. v.e'il go on Tuesday after all," he iid kindly. " I forgot that my little Ruth f-eie l.ad not seen her mother for two months, Itlaie's her cousin home from India, too. ' «"l'11 go on Tuesday.' ' W !iat sort of a youag man is this nc- Diiew of yours ' inquired my aunt, just M sharply as she had questioned me. "As hue a fellow as ever breathed," re- '"ae;liay father, and I knew that from him ' 3 high praise. I ain atraid my cheeks flashed with plea- fi^i's as 1 heard his warmcomendation. ' ' Rich ' pursued my aunt. My father i'lt: understood her ideas, and if he h-id not p".e v.ouLl not have cared. ^•i- y-s," ho answered carelessly 'I'Jite a nabob. He made a, nice little • tune of his own out there, and has the ^* ;?"i '^^â„¢y. t;o- bar's property as well." "Ah " ejaculated mv aunt, looking satis- i-d. ' -â- .nd ati;r tiiat she did not press father to '":! 3 much as a day lonsfer. -uesday night we spent on the boat. I paid not sleep, though I waa very com."or- pb.e I lay awake, thinkins' that the mor- P^ would bring me face to face^tfltii my "fifo once more after ten long years of anti- f^pation How would he look? What '0«ldne sav? What would he think of ,-, he consider me improved as IwT/u"' letter had certainly impUed I ouw he have quite forgotten those days Inr "^^^^S^*^^"" i° tJie garden long ago, iZj"^b^ iie remember-a little?. .Theaev I "*^re the thoughts which chasled ohe an- ^^^ WAS IkOfc " ]^as too happy and excited for thi*. i- waa a good distance to Ca^tton*^ «a«J took the jonmey .uilds ^snal the garden, go together, rtf*«Si4B|Ee fo» « "before ^«rj»achfe3 Motfier warn' ta "Hie ^tewrnrg-rooia with *«1^^ *^W» |4»Sedai ^ick hftd gone a Ktfle #hae afeo i Mother wan very pleMed to have me back aguoj^ pven thongtt I stiU proved obdwato. aiid^riietbonghtthe chanie tad doremS good. :^wond«L when my cheeka were k red-I cKgdJt^m^iey buniSSJd my eyes were m bright with ea^er lookine for. ward. But she did not know that Some one else had improved, too, during my ab- ^^^' .^imiwaagnmjaga.iijM beaatiM gm. She-was seventwffisjw.^wi receired a great deal of attention. She was noi at all m alerie'B stylo, thougb quite as fair. With a clear skin andrich golden hair. But she was queenly, haughtyâ€" almo.t scornful to her many admirers, who seived her as much m fear as in adnririation. There were people who said that in another year or two she would quite ejslipse her sistet but to me there Mas nobody in the wo Id to co r pare with our laughing, witching, loviic V alerie. Mother had good reason to be proud of her two youngjr daughters, yet ehe never for one moment. fo^otv,^: or;Bash^«ie, thoughrl had c^tainlyfifeap^idteflj^ La opposingher wishes so decidedly all these years. Oh, it was so good to meet her kind- ly smile, itstead ot Aunt Celia's sharp glances from beneath her brows- to hear her soft words of gentle'.guidaaee, instead of Aunt Celia's stem command Cams Wyckham came in while we were still in the first bustle of greeting- He said he had just half !*nhour to spare, so thought he would call in passing. And very glad was I to see him, even though my mind was fall of other thmgs. Carus and 1 were air ways good friends. We talked a few min- utes longer, and wheu I had drunk a cup of tea, as 1 was not in the least tired, my dear mother, knowing thfi% ha^tjfa t© see Valerie, and would be disappomted "if he had to leave before she came in from proposed that he and I should and take her and Alick by surptiae. "Very likely AUck -wton't know Ruth," she said smilingly, "and will wonder what stiange lady Carus has brought with him." So, after stealing a look into the glass to see if my hair was smooth, and â€" well â€" how I was looking altogether,â€" I stepped out into the lawn with O^us. .That glance h*d sa- tisfied me very Veil I wasifookin^ my best, what with the unwonted color in my cheeks and the sparkle in my eyes. Of course, I could not compare with Valerie, bu ' then no one expected that. We crossed the lawn, Carus talking to me iu hia quiet, brotherly fashion, with the sunlight falling on his uncovered head and irradiating his calm, grave face. There were times â€" generally when he was preach- ing or praying in church â€" when I had seen that quiet face lit up with an almost hea- venly radiance, and though I sometimes speculated as to how he and Valerie v/ouli git oa together in married life, with their different tastes and indication-, I yet could wonder at his power over her. There was something inesist:ble about this young, grave man. We went to the arbor, but they were not there, nor in the rose gai-dea or the hot- house. Then Carus thought of the kitchen garden. Valeria was fond of fruit, and he had sometimes found her there' eatio^ straw'berries or ariy frnft that happened to be in season, when he had searched all other places in vain. Of course, Alick would willingly join her in such a raid, so thither we bent our steps. To reach the kitchen garden we had to pass a small but densd surubbery, on the other side of which was a narrow path lead- ing to the stables. As we went by we heard voices, and though we could not dis- tinguish what was said, we recognized the owners directly â€" Valerie's soft accents only jiist audible, and a deep full voice, the sound of w hich made my heart beat faut and loud, for, though so much richer and more manly than when I heard it last, it w as still the same voice which I had learned to love ten years ago. " There xhey are " said Carus "' they must have been to the s ables, then." And turning aside, we entered upon the narrow path behind the shrubbery, and half a dozen steps brought us in full \-iew ot Valerie andâ€" her lover Yes, loverâ€" for bis arms were folded about her, her head lay on his broad breast, and there they stood, all unconscious of observatioii, wholly wrapped up in their love Ah, what a face the sun shone upon â€" as dark as a Spaniard's, as noble as a king's full of fire, and passion, and tendernes- wildest dreams of my cousin Alick more than leilized v/hen my eyes fell more upon his splendid face, glowing love for another than me. "I ought not to have spoken," he Ifcj^'igh my brain all the ll wpT t nioniuig came I was not weary; My were o::ce with was dumy we akw a we saad fnble*, tender with aH^rf tfiem. He fifted Jmhcad at mylMilMvM isf^iia^SmW Wwith infinite oomjiasBion. '*Foar(ddldrhe8ud."AsdlWfhiol^e howconldl? Poorchi£{r ' ' Hebid his hand pityingly upon my head as J knelt Mnde the table, Epeelng gentle words of comfort and strength, putting aside all though, of his own grief to minigfer to my i^as^ed presently. yq^ to do," he re- hire it is I, who often the harder nune also, ater- "â- â- y father saying "but Hove you so, Valer.eâ€" I loved you directly I saw youâ€" My dearest, I ought to be the last in the woild to teach you to be faithful, yet, if what you tell me is true, it would be a si » to marry him. " Oh, yes, yes," she answered and 1 never heard my sister's voice so maved be- fore "iti^ true, indeed. I never knew knew what it was to love until you came. It was reverence, re?p3ct, liking, that I felt for himâ€" anything bat love." " My sweet But theie, I won t cal you thatâ€" I will not touch your l;ps agai iâ€" wbi.e you belong to ancther " ' I had heard enoughâ€" loalnnoh. loiswas how thpy met, then, who tod partel \r.th- out so much as a fareweli 1 turned to Carus with a face that- but 1 cannot tell how I looked, I pn'y kna^^iox i feb^^hat moment. ,*' v He took me by the land and drew me crentlyaway. We walked back in silence down the pith we had come, and presently 1 raised my eyes to his fkce. sc^oeJy con ^iousofmyovrtipain in pha first, over- whelming of blahkness^ ,, HekokeJ strickea; tberi is no other word to describe what 1 read in ma f ace m I that oneglance. He walked en mechamcaUy, ' nnta weleached the Uttle ««^Pr-« ««J arbor wiiere we had first sought tb«n,j.^and there we we«t in r and «a* down, -^f^* liionoe. dkraalnaed Ms. «ms upon the 3»«ed,dqifntuppik Sfcem «l»l t» ,^ .*J! did not answBRB»*.:-.-a» "(C|nuwL%«^«*:v'jf« "-Wlatfihanwfldo?' •• There is nothing for turned. " You must-em most act. and yours is. task; but that wiU'be ward." "Then you mean to-r** 'i \; ' "I shall hot see her again'"' he said quietly. ' I^shall write to her, and jpve hertli^t which she craves^het freedom. My best befoved,"' he' continued, spiking as if momentarily unconscious sf^y |n:esr enoe» " did you think I wo^ld for (me mo- mantjy ithhfl i d aMrtit. tJ)gt.mi B ht ii (innrtwna ..to youi;, happiness, your ^elfaire Heaven ^rbfaitfV ri ^-o " Ik "" " "• other world beaming upon it. He looked down at me again, and recunied to my sorrows. " Poor child ' he'said once more. " It is hard npw, bfiiii i ]m4aid ier «nef b«t we knoarta^vhom toga uidurkim^."' '• Wgce theyâ€" were they jjjp^teSfiJiliW " I askeii after a pause.. „i .,â- ;;. " I do not know. If they were 1 did not notice it. rj^vfivet thongb;-^" ^j -j^-- He broke o^ and Y took up Iiis words with some bit:ernBW.Vj| -j ' « !| '"-j ^j " No, you never thought she could be false to you, that he would steal your beat treasure." "Don't, Ruth," he interposed with gentle firnmess " don't blame her, or him. They loved each other, they were made for each other what wonder he spoke when he saw that his love was returned? Mine was the mistake, to think I might ever â€" I won Id not have it otherwise it wojild have besn, as he said, a sin for her to marry me, loving him." He spoke so calmly, so firmly, but looking aiiis 4'ace as be raised l)isg))^v9^ Wufi.^e^ to-ttie Sutomei' sky for on* Ti!o'irient,"r tStt Ihat he had received his death-blow, I broke down into bitter weeping, untiliie laid his hand upon my head again. That tender touch, as of benediction, stopped my vio- lent Kobs, laid my pasjion to sleep with its soothing power. He paused a moment, standing b myside,andthenstoopeddown to speak in my ear " Say unto happiness, 'lean do without thee ' with self -rentmciatioa life begins." I did not speak I could not. The so- lemn words opened up tO me such a noble life of self-forgetfuluess. Was such aone as I able to walk in it Gotild I take up my crois and go onmy. way with a^miling face, living f oi: othera alone, trampliag bravely upon this poor wounded shrinking self? But he would, I knew, and I could but try. It did seem strange, though, and just at first a little trucl, that my beautiful sister, with her many conquests,, must needs fix upon the one man whom I loved. Still, he might never have loved me I had no i eal reason to think he would have done so even if he had never seen Valerie it was only my foolish imagination lifter all. And all Carus's devoiion, all his patience and tenderness, v ere as nothing compared to ' Alick's love. Well, I could not blame her, seeing that I loved him myself. "Rnth," he continued, 'we mlist, separ- ate now, p rhaps never to meet again in this world. But we shall never forget this hour. We have been linked together in sorrow let us look forward to a joyful meotirig in the glorious future that awaits us, where grief and trial a^ unknown, OQd?bye, dear Ruth may God bless and comfort you." tie pressed my hand and l^ft me. Alick and Valerie have been married ten' years now. I kept my secret well, and no one has ever guessed the reason of my de- termination to remain single. It was hard at first my life seemed very tare and desolate, stripped of its love, but time brought comfort, and every day brings me nearer to my rest. I never eaw any one else for whom 1 could care, and I could not marry without true love' sO here I am, an old maid, and my best affection is lavished on their oldest boy, Alick, such a fine bright lad, and resilly fond of his auntie, too. • Va eiie is a sweet woman,h?r husband lias just the qualities which she needs to supple- ment her own, and their union is indeed blessed. I think she grows everyday more like her mother^r-eur dear mother, who has slept benra,th the turf these six years. I live near them, and see them and their children constantly, sometimes two or three times in a day. Alick oftea comes in to give advice about my plants and grapes such a fine, noble looking man he is. i wish his father could see him now, with his half- dozen children tombling and laughing around him, and scrambling to walk next to " faver." We are capital friends, he and I, and when he sometimes teases me about my determined old maidenism, he never guesses that the fsded woman who smiles so calmly at his sallies gave up all other love for the love of him That is all put aside now, cast out of my life long ago, and the love which I might not ff el for bioj is gi^ren to bis children. Six months afiei* Caros Wyokfaam bade me faxewell in the little arbor at Clipstoae -I heard of his death from fever caught during his ministrations to the fevtr-stricken in a poor liondoB dif»it.r i. _lp»e w^i £le was (gUid to go death 'would come to him as a we' come visitor. I did not sorrow for him, for I aaw'Ufl hwrt was Inrokai on the day he :fband my^sq^V l^fftein'l^ititdtirnis. Bbt 1 went toviy'dcMCad^todlf cttf th'e letter he wBpte to her, whi«di «he^ showed to me, Si-Uti â- rtii'WiPAii'taii" â- :ii ^e fpreater nnmber-ef ebildraa playing id the streets were boys^ Girl^ ,sre «ar}y ac- enstomed to renmn inside the house and em- pley :tiiBmselT«s in !^ iumsehold woric Be* «idiM.4fa|[i,.tiiey d»TeU)|peTery;yoang, beiati often Bunrried at 10 er 12 yean aid, and old woaienati29or30. €lnndawtfaera'o£2 to 30 are very f ccquent, lA loiihar signiftoaht iact is the pennanent disproportion of maie and female MrtUs 'amiMg die Singfa^ese. Theaversjgeia 16 boys to 8.4 girb. This fact is crainected, to ' soma extent 4.t leeat, with the curioos izurtitation of polyandry. Jn spite of the ^orta-made by the jSngliah Goreri:mefft «o sroptess tliis eostom, it maintains its groondi- especially in th^ more remottdistrietBe^ the island. ^Itiasot un- usual to find two ot threes brothers with one wife in common, and ladies, may be foaad the happy possessors of 10^ or 12 husbands. These complicated family arraagcments forathe theme of msby extrawdinary stor- ies; but it is very ditealt to distmgnish fact from fable on the subjtcti; 'The Sin- glulese have a passion for mnsicand duicing, and practice both arts according to a stand- ard of tasto very different from our own. Their principal instrnments a^e the drum and the tom-tom, vigorously belabored with wooden dmtnaticks; besides these, they have reed-pip*, and a' very priuiitive stringed in- strument of one string. My evening cahn was oftea broken in by the din of these ear- splitttng instruments, and if 1 f(Alowed the sound to #Ss -source 1 was Eiire to find, in front of ai fire wader a pidm-tree, a groug of 10 or a dozen naked brown fellows, • gayly painted with white, yellow or red stripes, and indulging in the most extraordinary antics. A circle of spectactors stood round and followed the grotesque performance with devout atttntion.â€" 'ro/. Haeekel, iu Na- ture. ^^^^ Tbe Crops and thslVUe LeveL The crop depends so much on the Ni'e that one foot difference in flood-level is worth £2,- 000,000. The rise begins in June, reaching its highest in September, and then beginning to decline. From the records of a hundred years we find the proportion of floods was as follows: Forty-five good, from 24 to 27 feet; 15 excessive, over 27 feet; 40 feeble, from 10 to 20 feet. The variation Cf flood- level may, therefore, cause a serious distur- bance in the Budget, as in years of drought the peasants will be unab e to pay all the present land tax, although it is admitted to be moderate. Great efforts are, neverthe- less, made to supply artificial means for irri- gation in dry or deficient seasons. There are 476 steam-pumpsâ€" some belonging to Zawats, others to jobbers, who charge £3 per acre in watering the"crops of the Fellaheen. There are also 107,200. Persian water-wheels, which employ 60,000 animals and 150,000 men during ISC daye in the year. On the whole, the cost of iirigation is eaid to aver- age 4s. an acre, but this is in years ol good a Nile. If the Arabs could begot to ab m- don their prejudice against windmills, great good would accrue from 10,000 or 20,000 mills, such as the Americans use for water- ing gardens. This would enable a larger arci to be reclaimed from the desert, for the 8urvesshow that 1,100,000 acres cf cultiv- able land are still unused.and it is a reihirk- able fact that as soon as the canal is opened anywhere the arid sards become at cnce converted into green fields. The advic3 cf the first Caliph to his son. a thousand years ago, still holds good: "Beware of money- lenders, and devote one-third of the reven- ue to making canals." â€" 2f. G Mulhall, in the Contemporary Rcvisic. â- #!*-«-« timn^ it and wUch I ke^'^SiBRA trajs. ^ShenevergaesKdjirluif'he suffered; he leKher think him cold, pre-occnpied,any- ffciti g j rmUier than giro, her pain lor his sake. Xdob accordance wi^h bis implied wish I did n^teU her the inOt, idid.net tell her, liiahflyt was broken, and I -even kept the 'Mwsphis j» "r|"Hi i»rJp«g|«y'^d ^laypk, her %fcolB*s*y «* »f dbgree. Xife n Iceland. Dr. Vigf usson, a teacher of Icelandic at the University of Oxf jrd, has recently published some very interesting notes on the simp'icity of life in bis native land. "We area spaie folk," he says, "I myself was always ihin and pale, in my youth. And, after all, food is not everything; the English perhaps think too much of their dinner. Dinners are good, but there is bett' r in health ef body and a contented mind. " He goes on to say that iu his youDg days his people lived sparingly and healthy. He never tasted wine till he was 22, or he.r befcra he w-as grjwn up. Milk ard whey cr wat=r were alA-ays to be had, and we dil not wish for more." he siye. Dr. Vigfusscn sa_\ s that on his father's farm, in his youth, were two Omigi or poor peo- ple, who had been allotted to the farm in accordance with the Icelandic custoiTi of treating the poor. One of them was an old womaii, t'ae o her a younsgirl n his own age. Who became a kind of foster sister to him. " We drank of the same cup," he writes, "and ate of the same dish, were clad in the samie stuff, were made to do all manner of errand- work â€" now to feteh in a pony, now a sheep, or a pitcher of water from the brook, or to carry food to the farm folk out on the land; in thor^,we went to and fro like a wea- ver's shuttle; in wiiiter we wou'd gather Ice- land inose together or sit at home capping verses and ditties, afe* of whi:;h are just about to appear for tbe first time in a volume of Icelandic poems, now being printed in The Clarendon Prem. Not One member of the household, ever let the child feel, by v/ord or deed, that she was s, pauper." r 'A .ij*ti--vr**l- 5!^j K-y^. .«.•'» London alters by leaps and bouu.Is. An enoifmous recoastrucKon is now projected. The' hew law court?, which are asserted to be the â- Architectural glory of the city, to have elb(?5r„ room to display their beauties in. j ForT;1ia1»J)tfrppse Cleinenf 8 Inn, Dane's Ian, strestraa oWHotywell fctreet ar? to be swept jaway, and witlf^ the- St. "Clement's, Dane's 'cIturSi, wbic'i, alw^^s ^gures in draw- R j_i-;^«,^v;*.i-«,T,bj|B^ifaijp^e fe^^ 'T^e spot 1 uid Mstqtisal intrest. Mr. o# Hved as"a' student: ih'Cle- aadusted to sally mit' '.^gice ACuio^H^.«(i(tiideBt .mb£ t '4)bJ»\^|tdf At^Lbl y* ik tL«^ q6«rtibn pK mrf muft inootii. Wlntbnr he^ to:^^(n|pBdoe-«efrbMji the bMte upon which niMiy Mtiing books are made upâ€" even betting. fA, he will be hanged, twolm'itaethst'le-trfflbe iNftfree. What* eveiiisrdoBS shoald-be dona at one*.' Odri^ onsly enongk it ^n» tiv ' JScyptie^ MiniKers wjho£riit8««es)iedtbat Ai^i aJ^old.baTe the benefit m an "Rngtiah birrister for bis defence. When it became known, howetcr, tbat Mr. WiUrid Blaat had sens out a barrister and a solici^llMrthat'parpose the Egyptian ^inirters chluiged their uiiods and took the ground' ^that "in view pf the preisent distarbSd st4te irf 'public feeing it was imperative tiiak'Aayta'a ,tale shouidbe .(decided without., -delay, wd.. oiijections whiph wonld^ be involved by. the presence ot English barnsters, 'atad which wou^ol be inoom^hetisible to the'grest )kdy of the .ptofde." :;., In tbe me^time Aratti i^ shut up with his colleagues and 'satellites in a large public building in the Bmxtpean quarter of the- tonm.' He is- wktdKd by Circasman guards, who occupy. the inteiiorof thehense, while. 1^ company of Gxeo^er Guards st^d sentry at every possible exit from the ex- temporized prison. Atabi says that the Circassians treat him eruelly, and eat his bread and onions and steal his tobacco. He seems afraid of their assasinatmg him, and has asked several times that British soldiers be placed in ' the room with him. This demand has been ' refused, but an officer now sees that the Circassians do not abuse Arabijin^ ai^y Wjay. .^H^abi now presents striking contr^t to the tall, erect horse'nian who on the ^th Septetaber, 1881, rode, sword in hand, up to the Khedive, who stood at the foot of the palace stops at Abdin. Surroimded by four batte^ries of Krupp guns and 9,000 troops the Khedive was a prisoner in his palace. I was an eye-witoess of the scene that then took place. As Arabi rode up the Khedive,, regaining for a moment the imperial demeanor of Mehemet Ali, extend- ed himself to his full height, and drawing back his well formed head commanded Arabi, " Put up that sword " Arabi, taken â- completely by surprise, hesitated,, and his sword hand trembled palpably. I then felt convinced that Arabi lacked physical courage. The Khedive, profiting by the hesitation, made a com- manding gesture with his right hand. Arabi then swung up the hilt of his sabre and then replaced it in its scabbard. The Khedive then commanded, " Get off that horse 1" This order Arabi also obeyed. It w as then that Sir Auckland (then Mr.) Colvin bent toward the Khedive and said, " Order liim shot " Instead of this the Khedive said to Arabi, "What do you want?" Arabi seemed now to have completely recovered his presence of mind, and with six of his officers by his side replied \â€"l ha\ e three demands to make of you, and if they be not granted I have your successor ready. I first insist ihat the presnnt Ministry (the Riaz Ministry) be dismissed tecond, he pay of the army must be increased, as proposed by tiie Military Cominission, and, tnird, an Egyptian Partiameiit must be established. " The Khedive, after a shoit and rapid dis- cussion with the Miuista'.B, replied " 1 grant thc'first demard. I disn iss tha Ministry. The other two deiiands I can-iot decide upon 'vrithcnt fhst ref'iring t'len; to the Sulla^." As soon as the decree of d-sinisjing t!i6 Itiaz Ministry was tigned and handed to Arabi t'ae troops, with music at their J.ead, marched triumphautly from the Palace square, and thus began the drnma which- ended in the cast-iron picnic of a British army and a " march past" of Highlander*, Beloochees, Guardsmen and Bengal cavalry in the same Palace square just one year later. The Arabi victorious aud triumphant was a large, very dark, powerfully built man, with clastic step, commanding pres- enceâ€"a man who resembled Dawisou, the famous German tragedian, aud v/ho could rncke a fortune if he had cliosen to act Othello instead of playin;.' the role of a military pretender, or, of a tenth rate Cromwell. Such was the Arabi of a few months ago. The Arabi of to-day is a pale cafe au lait, bloated and haggard fellah. His eyes have lost their brilliancy and extraord'nary power. His hair instead of be ng raven black, is streaked with gray. His once black but now gray moustache is re- inforced by a stubby, streaked beard. He now stoops and walks with a shuffling, and uncsrtain step. He passes his time in pray- ing and washing â€" two inseperable rituals of Islap. lie also suffers from a severe attack of diarrhcfea. He has in bis room a large sil- ver basin, and a piteher with a long ncte Ike a teapot. He constantly pours water, which is scented, over his hands. The poor man al- though now treated with the greatest kind- ness, is evidently suffering most severely, both mentally Emd physically. The sooner the trial begins the better for everybody. jiswiroi JnstSce mei^S .inn, 'flitfH^V^ Relics 67 Coeur JDe Ztion. There still eshists in Paris considerable re- mains of the great wall witii turriets whicii Philip Augastus began bsfore he joined Richard of England in his crusade. The positions of some of these relics are pointed out by GcUignani as follows "In the Cour de Rouen, near the Passage du Commerce, is the lower portion of a turret Still intact, with a piece of wall covered wUh ivy, Jt fortes r art of the playgrouQ^ 9^ A. school, and children may be seen cUmbiug over th8 relic of the past. In the^e CldV^ Is an- other fragment bordering on the Rhe des 1 Fosses Saint- Victor. At itv^boitaia lof the court-yard of the house No. 31 Rue Xa.upb kAie atatÂ¥et almosfetitfre, which serves 6 a ;w»fl^6dse add rendemoe; Ls-the Btet. GueneSBpd, No. 81 ariCalsnthsiMIUunsof » tower which was joined to that in the fine Dauphine by a wall which ran in oae direo- )tieai»4JM'lbiiiri«bbNeris,:4Hd'I^ tiM^tiier toj^^ jpajtaiPrajiMaf .;. J% WM. reoently â- -1 ' Th^PM and to sit witu the m^ry_nsdiJ^dL .iperessed on thafJlfalls eti'iilMililiml ihj ,._ -Qa-tQ^.,. i;i if fell