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been present) might possibly have cavilled, was that its lines grew so long by degrees that the sheet of paper they were written on barely sufficed to hold them. This defect, however, was not so much noticed when the poem was recited by its authoress-standing on a chair at the end of the long table, in a kind of "bless-you-my-children attitude. As she concluded there was a general chorus of applause. The wine circulated freely. Everyone in turn was called upon for a speech or a story. Mr. Binns, wishing to be appropriate to the relate a story of a Prussian officer. Like the celebrated Mr. Tibbs with his volunteer story, he had long been burning with it.

occasion, offered to

Now

"When I was a youngster," he began, addressing more especially Bertha's cousin, "I was travelling down the Rhine by steamer. I ain't one to everlastingly stickle for my rights, but, mind you, T. B. don't like to be bossed by anyone, be he who he may. Well, as I was remarking, I was on board the steamer, and had happened to establish myself with my baggage on a comfortable seat on deck. I got up for a minute to speak to a friend, and when I got back, lo and behold if there wasn't a young beggar of a Prussian officer had bagged my place, and was sitting there, calm as a cucumber, with all my bags and wraps pitched on to the ground. I should smile if anyone were to say that T. B. wasn't vexed. I just took up my carpetbag, and flung it back on to the seat, hitting that Prussian officer such a blow in the back that it sent him sprawling. Bless you, the whole ship's crew surrounded me in a minute, amazed that anyone should dare to attack an officer. Donner und Blitzen! wha-doyou mean, sir?' cried the Prussian, scrambling to his feet again, dusty and scowling. I mean to teach you to respect the American flag, sir,' says I. He clapped his hand on his sword. Oh, if you mean fighting,' says I, 'two can play at that game,' and I doubled up my fists and waltzed along the deck towards him in fine style. 'Come on,' says I. Did he come on? not a bit of it. He retired, sulking. The ship's captain comes up to me. 'What have you done, unhappy man?' says he, 'you've insulted a Prussian officer! He's bound after this to take your life. He can't help doing it. The regiment would for ever look down on him if he didn't avenge himself.' But I could see that in their hearts the captain and crew hated the arrogant fellow, and were chuckling over his defeat. The steward looked another way, but he was smiling-I could see it down his back. I'm ready for him, any time,' says I. He'll have your blood,' says the captain. Well, if you'll believe me, I landed, got a good thick stick, left my address with the captain, and loafed

three whole days in a little pokey Rhine town waiting for that fellow to come and fight me. The darned skunk never put in an appearance, and that's the story of how I was going to duel with a Prussian officer!" And Mr. Thompson Binns, having now exhausted his breath, sat down much pleased with himself.

"Oh! you idiot," whispered Mrs. Jackson, who could contain herself no longer. "You're enough to drive a woman silly, you are. You've been putting your foot in it nicely. Don't you see that it's a Prussian officer you've been talking to?"

Mr. Binns had not taken in this fact, and he opened his mouth much in the same fashion as the pantomime little boy, who, in the act of stealing a sausage, finds himself suddenly confronted with the policeman. His curly hair quite stood on end. However, no harm was done. The ladies, as before hinted, couldn't always understand Mr. Binns's wild flights of rhetoric, and had not therefore grasped this terrible insult to their soldiery, while the officer was no wiser than they were.

The general hilarity of the evening, meanwhile, showed no signs of diminishing. Elise's turn was called for next. She had spent some time in composing a little English poem to give me as an "Andenken," or farewell gift, and she now offered to recite it to the company. They were all very much impressed, especially those who couldn't understand a word of it. It ran thus:

Oh, will you tink of me

When you are on de sea?

When waves roll round your head,

Then I will tink of thee!

(I was much gratified, but explained that the lines, though beautiful in themselves, were perhaps a little gloomy in their tenor, inasmuch as I hoped not to be drowned on the return passage.) But Mr. Thompson Binns now rose again at a sign from Elise. He had partially recovered from his collapse. "I speak," he said, "in the As you perhaps know, my

- name of Mrs. Jackson and myself.

friends, the feelings with which I regard that lady" (here Mrs. Jackson looked rather foolish), "I will not further descant on that theme. I will only tell you of my fervent hope, which is that she will one day call herself Mrs. Binns. Ladies, I hope you'll wish me joy. I have always-I may say it without pride-tried to do my duty among you, and have kept my temper as a man should on many trying occasions."

Mrs. Jackson here pulled him violently by the sleeve: "Sit down, Thompson, you silly man! You've said quite enough. Why will

you always spoil things by saying too much? Oh! however you'll manage the business I'm sure I don't know ! "

66

Only one word more, ladies," went on Thompson, nothing daunted, raising his glass. "May you all find as complete a cure as mine at Bad-Langeweile."

After the outburst of cheers which greeted this hit, Frau Biener was called upon. She dragged, of course, into her speech some allusion to her husbands (like Mr. Dick with Charles I.'s head, she never could get on entirely without their aid), but otherwise her few remarks were pithy and to the point. Laying down her eternal knitting for this occasion only, she said slowly, with a strong south German accent: "The bride is young, but she has already once been married, and that is always something; it gives experience. Let her study to be a good cook and housekeeper, and see to her husband's shirt-buttons, and she will retain his affection. He has promised to be good to her, and we can only hope that he will keep his word." These words, spoken gruffly in a deep bass voice, and accompanied by a distrusting glance at Mr. Binns, were not without their effect. They seemed to imply that man in general, and Mr. Thompson in particular, would do anything rather than "keep his word." Everybody shuddered, but Frau Biener was only acting up to a firmlyimplanted principle of hers. An article, according to her, must, above all, be made to "wear." If solid, it was not generally ornamental; if ornamental, as a rule it did not "wear." Mr. Binns was ornamental; ergo, he probably did not possess good "wearing" qualities. She looked lovingly across at her own Franz, who sat with one arm encircling Louise's capacious waist, and the other raising a tankard of beer! Nobody could deny that he, at least, was more useful than ornamental.

But Franz now rose to speak for himself and wife. "My Louise is shy," he said, looking towards her fondly, "and it therefore devolves on me to speak. As to the betrothed couple, I can do no more than wish them as much happiness as my Louise and myself are blessed with and as for you, ladies, I can only say that when you are next in the neighbourhood of Hohenellenputznau, we should be delighted if you would honour our little abode with a visit. My Louise has a girl to cook, and though ours is a simple household, yet it is a comfortable one."

I had hoped to escape notice, but now there were loud cries of "The Miss! Let the Miss speak." So, seeing that there was no help for it, I mounted the speaker's chair, and got through the ordeal as best I could. They cheered me loudly, notwithstanding my

blunders. "Come back next year," cried everybody; "we will all meet next year! Auf Wiedersehen! Auf Wiedersehen!" and the glasses clinked again with a will.

August 20.-It is now the last day of my stay, and twilight is approaching. As I write these words I remember the thought so well expressed by De Quincey: "Life resembles a journey by stage-coach; the scene continually changes, and the passengers also." I have quite a sentiment of tenderness in my heart for the young girl, for Fräulein Bertha, for Mr. Binns, Mrs. Jackson, and even for the crocheting old German ladies, now that they will so soon vanish into "the land of shadows." Then I think of Mattie, already departed along that distant silver streak of water whither I shall soon follow her; and, leaning out of my window, I forget my past weeks of boredom, and gaze, almost with a feeling of regret, over to where the red sun dies far away from off the wooded knolls of the Schwarzwald.

EMILY CONSTANCE COOK.

369

AURORA KÖNIGSMARK.

"Cette femme, célèbre dans le monde par son esprit et par sa beauté . . . La comtesse, parmi les perfections qui la rendaient une des plus aimables personnes de l'Europe. . ."--Voltaire.

“T°

O Westminster Abbey . . . and here we did see, by particular favour, the body of Queen Katharine of Valois; and I had the upper part of the body in my hands, and did kiss her mouth, reflecting upon it that I did kiss a queen, and that this was my birthday -thirty-six years old—that I did kiss a queen." Such is Mr. Pepys' quaint account of his post-mortem homage to the royal lady who had lain in the arms of the Victor of Agincourt, and who has been depicted by Shakespeare as the French lady-love of the young Warrior King. The date of the burial of Queen Katharine was January 1457. The date of Mr. Pepys' visit to her remains in the Abbey was February 23, 1668-69. It is not, indeed, a very uncommon thing for the living to have seen the preserved bodies of the long dead. We have all seen the mummies of old Egyptian kings, priests, ladies; and I have held in my hand the head of Henry Grey, Duke of Suffolk, the father of Lady Jane Grey. In about the first quarter of this century it happened to Dr. Friedrich Cramer to see, by particular favour, in the vaults of the old Stiftskirche of Quedlinburg, the mummified remains of a quasi-royal lady, who had been, in her time, one of the most. beautiful women of her day in Europe; who had been witty, accomplished, charming; the mistress of a splendid king, and the mother of a great captain; the centre of attraction at the courts of Germany and of Sweden; who was one of those witch-women of history who, by means of the magic of sexual and of mental charm, had excited desire, inspired intrigue, stirred ambition, and played a distinguished, if ignoble, part in the drama of her land and time. Such was la Saxe galante, the once fair and lovely Aurora Königsmark; and she was the lady upon whose artificially preserved remains Dr. Cramer-and, no doubt, others-gazed with wonder, and with thoughts stirred by many complex memories. Dr. Cramer, more modest, less amatory and inquisitive than Mr. Pepys, was

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