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cut in stono present examples of rare and esquisito workmanship.
Various figures of monstrous shapo and curious expression
grin from tho sloping buttresses and other prominent pluces. In
the words of Sir Walter:
If thou wouldst view fair Melroso aright
Go visit it by the pale moonlight,
For the gay beams of lightsome day
Gild, but to flout, the ruins grey
When the broken arches are black in night
And each shafted oriel glimmers white
When buttress and buttress alternately
"- ' Seem framed of ebon and ivory;
- When distant Tweed is heard to rave
And the owlet to hoot o'er the dead man's grave;
Then go but go alone the while; t
Then view St. David's ruined pile;
And homo returning, soothly swear.
Was never scene so sad and fair.
July 1. Leave Melroso at 9 a. m. for London; enrouto we pass
York cathedral, an immense structure of Gothic architecture and
Peterborough cathedral where Catherine of Arragon is buried and
which first received the mortal remains of Mary Queen of Scots.
SUFFICIENTLY REWARDED.
THE CAUSE OF HER TROUBLE.
"George!' It wasn't what she said so much as the way in which
she said it. She took the word and drew it out until it was a long,
tremulous filament of sweetness. Yet there was a tingo of reproof
in her tone. "George!" She only said it once in reality, but it is
customucv with story writers to say "George" twico under these
circumstances.
"What is it?-"
"You have been squeezing my hand with great regularity and ,
emphasis for some time.'"
"I know it," he replied, with the frankness that was characteristic
of his manly nature.
"Please don't do it any more, and her voice dropped almost to a
whisper.
"No more! This sounded like heart throbs of anguish (whatever
they are) and his form shook with emotion. "Why not?"
"Because" she faltered.
"Go on."
"Because I have got a blister on my little linger."
Tho latest joko at the expense of tho French Society for the Pro
tection of Animals is to the following effect: A countryman, armed
with an immense club, presents himself before tho president of tho
society, and claims tho first prize. Ho is asked to describe the act
of humanity on which ho founds tho claim.
"I saved the life of a wolf," replies tho countryman. "I might
easily have killed him with this bludgeon,' and he swingB his wea
pon in the air, to the immense discomfort of the president.
"But where is the wolf?" inquires the latter; "what has ho done to
you?
"He has just devoured my wife," waB the reply.
The president reflects an instant and then Bajs: "My friend, I am
of tho opinion that you have been suflioiently rewarded." .
f .
A SONNET.
Once a Het wrote a sonnet
All about :i pretty bonnet,
And a critic sat upon it,
(On the sonnet;
Not tho bonnet),
xt .1 r t
i.OilllUg mm.
As if it were high treason
Ho said: "'Neither rhyme nor reason
Has it. And it's out of season!"
Which? Tho sonnet, ;
Or tho bonnet? :
May be both.
'Tis a feeble imitation
Of a worthier creation,
An esthetic innovation!
Of a sonnet,
Or a bonnot.
This was hard.
Both were put together neatly, j
Harmonizing very sweetly,
But tho critic crushed completely.
Not the bonnet,
Or tho sonnot.
But the bard!
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