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One hot afternoon in Au rust, Kennedy and the Prince were sitting um er the verandah in exceedingly comfortable attitudes. Their feet were elevated on chairs, and between them was a table covered with books 011 the English language, and also with cigarettes and a certain cool beverage. In front of them a lawn slanted down to a belt of everâ€" greens; beyond were the level tops of the cliffs, then came the sea. It was very hot, and the two men took things easily. The reading-lesson had long been given up ; Kennedy was getting drowsy. He liked the young fellow by his side well enough, but he found him heavy. Conversation between them reduced itself as a rule to question and answer, and these are not invigorating to the mind. So he spread a handkerchief over his race, and went to sleep. The Prince fell to considering Kennedy’s long legs. He won- dered why some men should he so tough and wiry. and why others should be so short and round, susceptible to heat and all that. This question, “weakly asked” and proving un- answerable, weakly or otherwise, sent him of? dozing too. Some Eime after, both men heard in their dreams a woman laughing and a woman cry- ing, and a. great rustling of dresses on the gravel. Kennedy was conscious that he had something on his head he ought to remove, but for the moment was quite unable to do so. Then he heard a youngr voice saying distinctly : Annie “Elton, at twenty, had a pink and white skin and dark brown hair, which were the despair of young women and the delight of young men. She went about a good deal, and generally took her mother with her. “Mamma is easily managed if I give her plenty of ammsement,” this youngr lady ob» served to her acquaintances ; “ I took her to rh'ighton last Autumn, and she enjoyed her- self immensely. She was always at the Aquarium ; l used to leave her there and go round with the Kennedys, and she was quite happy.” (fife summer Mrs. \Vilton and her daugh- ter gave up gayety and tried a. quiet place. M rs. \Vilton said society was quite cruel to her ; she had done all she could to satisfy it, and now the strain was beginning to tell. Annie told people that mamma was quite worn out with rushing about, and wanted to ruralize. The Miss Kennedys advised to try their brother’s parish, down south. Here they met a Prince in disguise. He was only a, foreign Prince, and his disguise was very unremarkable ; he looked a. fat and some- what slow young man, in tweed clothes, just as like any other younsr man possible, but as every one was always astonished to hear he was a Prince, it is probable that Princes at home carry out the traditions of fairy story, and wear short velvet mantles and plumed caps, to distinguish them from other men. “ Oh, don‘t trouble yourself, we‘ll intro- duce ourselves. 0h, goodness 1” the same mice began to laugh, “for once you were r' rht, mammal We had better have gone 11nd and done the correct thing.” “ Oh I” said the crying voice, 7‘ you are so inconsiderate ; it is so dangerous to be woke with a shock. Your poor dear papa could 0t hear it. Only the last week of his life I remember him particularly r;aAI’ci(mi11;_r Mary Ann to shut the doors gently.” Kennedy, much annoyed, flung of? the handkerchief and rose to his feet. Two ladies, very fashionably dressed, were stand- ing outside the verandah looking in at him. He did not know them,‘ and they had been guilty of seeing}r him in an imlignified posi- tion ; therefore his expression was unamiable. The Prince, who, the moment he had opens ed his handsome eyes, had taken in the facts of the ease, sprang up with foreign self-pos- session, and was now executing a series of gracious bows that should have put Ken. nedy‘s somewhat surly reception to the blush. The younger of the two ladies came i'onrard a little. “This is mamma,” she said, introducing the other lady, and smiling a great deal. "Mrs. \Vilton, you know; perhaps your sisters told you. I am Annie \Vilton. Perâ€" haps I ought not to have come round this way ‘ vour servant said you were in the gvbagigf‘fib we thought we might as .well _r301nc.~’u,fllin;iir a room is so formal, isn’t CONCERNING A PRINCE. “It i.) vcly kind of you $901110 at all,” he answered. “ NW had th‘épleasure of nearing of you from my ‘ erg should nave called on you at once hawk Lupwn you {mad arrived.” 5‘ He addressed Ins words to the mofilgy‘ but twice his eyes strayed to the (laugthle gexmous face. She and the Prince were’m . scrvipg Each other. 11w“ “‘.;'0fi,ay‘”é;i(l MIR \Yilton plaintiycly, “Annie is so wilful, 311d In." health 13 ‘50 Shatterpd h“ 4 ram], sent 111,. down here for rest. He was quite positive aboutit. He said to me, ‘ My dear Mrs. \Vilton, yours is an excitable nature and made for society, but positively you must take a respite ;’ and I really am worn out.” “\Ve arewyzry grateful to Dr. Garth,” Kennedy replied, lmwing. “ I hope you will stay some time. Our air here is famous for invalids. My frierud,”‘ and he nodded to- ward the Prince, “is quite another man since he has been with me. ] shall send him home a good walker, and altogether athle» tic.” He laughed kindly as he spoke. Certainâ€" ly, the Prince’s figure did not suggest any greag loye qfkmpgcplar exeg'ci§e. V “I should think you find the hills very tx‘ying'” said Miss \Vilton to the Prince. “Yes, they are very bad,” he admitted it '3” Kennedy gave the covered his tcmpgr.’ “hf burns the lamp of love so high, T lough midnight, s honr hath flown 2’ The clock above the glowing gate Has stopped at, 118.11 past ten : And, long as that youngnmn may wait. It, will not strike again. The artful maiden knows full well What makes the clock not so, And why no earthly power can tell The time for him to go. A youth sat on a sofa. wide h ithin a parlor dim ; The maid who lingered by his side was all the world to him. “‘ hat brought that glad light to his cyew my.” ,mA.‘__,m ._ L:,_ ‘AM_ a A Story in Two Chapters. Mother's Clock. CHAPTER I lafiie§ chairs, and re- an l,Iheéplcasure 0f we should th‘anwn you pomc at all,’ “Eve one likes music ” said the 011mr . . ’ . a 011'} ; “ 1n the same wa ' that ever one hkes a . flowers. M y partners somctxmes ask me, ‘ Do you hke flowers ‘1’ and I often answer, ‘ No, I can’t hear them,’ and they are so as- tonished.” y “\Ve have some fine roses here,’ said Kennedy ; “ would you care to come and see them " x , He contrived that the Prince should walk on with Mrs. \V'ilton. He thought that the young man had monopolized her daughter long enough. Kennedy’s garden was pretty and well kept. He had some very good roses, and was proud of them. He exâ€" plained the different kinds, with some trou- hle, but he felt, in spite of her polite little “ {dis 1” and “ indeeds,” that she did not pay much attention. “ May I give you some flowers he said, breaking ofl‘a pretty yellow rose, and then some crimson-black ones hard by. She took them graciously. “ I never refuse anything good,” she re- plied. “ 1 cannot reproach myself with hm ing missed a single enjoyable dance these three years.” gravely. “I have to go every day to the post, and there is a very stiff bit coming baCk>” _ Jinn 501]". _ “ That ls a dreadful walk," sand the young girl (lezlltlrely'.;§“ Cannot you get some one else to g0 ?” â€"The Prince said he esteemed himself for‘ tunate that she had refused these invitations, and it struck Kennedy that he was coming out very much on this occasion. He was a silent young man, mostly, with ceremonious manners and a'good heart, but hitherto the rustic English beauties he had come across had made but little impression on him. It was difficult for Kennedy to catch all he said to Miss \Vilton. He used a rather mono- tonous undertone in speaking to ladies, but Kennedy observed that the young girl smiled a good deal and showed little teeth and dimples, not conducive to the peace of mind of a man already touched by the grace of her features in repose. “ Do you Iikevmusic 1'” asked the Prince of Annie. “ Oh, Annie sings immensely,” her mother hastened to interpose, “ and she has had the best lessons. The arts are so beautiful, are they not? I have sung a good deal in my time toq ; but now my health is so delicate, Dr. Garth is afraid to let me try.” “I could be so happy in my own home circle,” said Mrs. \Vilton to Kennedy, “ quite content with my children’s society. But they are the last people who care to be with one. I am sure I never see Tom, and Annie is always out or staying away. It is really quite gratifying the number of people who ask Annie; she could positively be in three different places at the present moment, only she would not leave me. ” v 4 a .1 7 ~ 7 - - kennedy frowned, as though he were not quite sure of the premse number. “ I hope I shall see you again,” said the Prince to Annie ; “ do you stay here longr ‘1” “ \Ve shall stay as long as mamma likes the place. You must come and see us. Mammal. is ordered quiet, and so we came down here where we know no one, and now our great endeavour is to make as many friends as we can.” _ Kennedy here gave up the statistical prob- lem on which he was engaged, and confessed he knew nothing whatever as to the surplus of women in England. “ I isuppose you go out very much in Lon- don ‘5” he asked, and he wondered how she kept the rose-Leaf tint of her complexion through a London season. Miss ‘Nilton studvied liis fine head, and his tutor’s manly figure, and perhaps thought nature capricious in: her gif1gs. Kennedy naturally thought of his own three sisters, the youngest of whom now con- fessed to twenty-five, and who seemed as far off settling as ever. “ “"0 are awfully fond of Society, mamma and I,” she answered ; “ we are always out. Delicate as we are, we are never tired of anmsement. \Ye are very fond of pleasure ; it runs in the family.” “ “'0 shall not keep you long in that case. \\'c are very quiet people here,” he said with sonic malice. “ A little card-playing for the elders, rounJ games 01‘ bagatelle for the young people, sherry and sandwiches at half- past ten, that is all we can offer you in the way of dissipation.” “ It 'is to my mother that I write every (1ay,'so I prefer to go _m_y_self.” r “ It is sucli a responsibility to have dangli» ters, is it not 7” said Mrs. \Vilton, confiden- tially to Kennedy. “ I do ‘pity people who have five or six girls. It IS so difficult to marry thgm, is it 1191: '2” “I believe there are so many women in England, so many more than men, I mean. Seven hundred, or seven million, or some‘ thing like that ; but I dare say you know 1’" Kennedy would have felt more disgusted had she looked less pretty. She made; an expressive little face, and they b01311 lauglggd. “No, but really mamma is unwell, and we want to be quiet this time,” she said. “ I wished you to see what :1. very worldly per- son I am.” \Vhen Kennedy looked at this very world- ly person, and saw the most delicious eyes and color in the woxld, he felt more kindly disposed to her than to poorold Lady Baker, with her eternal gossip and card-parties ; 01‘ than :1 clergyman ought to feel to one con- victed out of her own mouth of loving the pomps and vanities of this wicked world. ln‘ front, the Prince was piloting Mrs. \Vilton from red rose to white, and speaking very little. There was, indeed, no occasion, for she talked gently and unceasingly. Out noliteness she chose foreign subjects. ‘ ‘ am very fond of France,” she said ; “30 I’~etieal, the vineyards, and all that, you kDOv. And then so clever, the French 31:9, t00<quite the most civilized people. “ e ill‘}'ays‘_1ave our gowns from Paris.” Aim“? WIton looked up at Kennedy. ‘ , y, “ £10111.“ \rth,” she murmured ; “do you adnnre mine i“ “I am no judge of such things,” he an- swered with hesitation. “You might be angry if I said what thoughtz”. 7‘ Oh, I should not careva. bit what you sai‘dC'slle rgpliedr with capdor. She held 1101' hams a little way from her sides to Show the style. He looked, for the first time, at his guest’s {Ltvne and was silent, Left to himself, he had an 0(li way of think. ing only ahouAt peqplg’s chgs. 7‘Y0'u don’tAadinire it i” said the young girl, with tragedy in her low round vninn “ \Vhat is the matter with it ?” “ \Vell, tHen, I do not like a dress to con~ “ You must bring your very amiable young friend to see us,” said Mrs. \Vilton, in an audible aside, as she shook hands with Ken- nedy. Both men went; down to the gates with the ladies. The Prince looked more animated than Kennedy had ever seen him look before. Certainly a pretty woman is a better spur to the intelligence than gram- mars and lexicons, “She is just 1L specimen of the fashion- able frivolity of 0111' times,” he said ; “ no head, and no heart either, I should think. \Vell dressed, perhaps, if well is synonymous with cxpensively, but utterly wanting in all a true woman’s charms.” “Both,” said the Prince, and Smoked silently for a moment; “but the daugh- ter is more charming than any woman I know.” “ Charming fashionâ€"plate,” growled Kell- nedy, unamiably. “ \Vlmt? \Vhat?” cried the Prince to whom fashionAplate was a new word. But Kennedy was not in an instructing mood. The Prince listened with mild denseness in his face. He did not attempt to underâ€" stand Kennedy in his cynical or moralizing mood, but he caught at the word dress. Kennedy burst out laughing, and his i11- humor vanished. “ My dear fellow,” he said, “I am \‘el'y glad for your sake they have come. I think thgy will _s11it ypu admirably.” Â¥ The Prince thought a great deal in a slow and gentle way about Annie \Vilton. There was something in her face that delighted him. In his own family, every one had in~ termarried for generations, and at the present time the exact degrees of relation- ship were no longer discoverable, so that there was, as a consequence, but one type of face; of course, eminently aristocratic, often handsome, as in his own case, but too generally vacuous. There was a Serene Highness, supposed to be a fourth cousin once removed, waiting to he married to the Prince himself when the proper time should have arrived, and her profile exactly re- sembled his own. Now, though a man may be 011 the whole very well satisfied with his own and his family’s physiognomy, he geneâ€" rally prefers to find a little variety in that of the woman he marries. Men of the Prince’s rank were kept, in his country, long:r in lead- ing-strings, and marriage was the last thing in which they had their vay. Knowing all this quite well, the Prince, with human per- versity, let himself think of the young Eng- lishggirl with a growing satisfaction. Of course he said nothing about her in his letter to his mother next day; he only made it shorter than usual, and walked down to post it, less occupied with the bore of coming up again in the heat than with the chance of meeting Miss \Vilton. Near the postofiiee some worn steps lead down from the High- street to “ The \Valk.” As the Prince reached the top, Annie \Vilton was coming up. After the ladies had gone away both men took a silent walk around the lawn. Ken- nedy stopped now and then to trim with his penknife the rough stalks from which he had broken the roses. \Vithout knowing why, he felt ill-tempered again. Perhaps, now the young girl was gone, he thought more of her worldliness and less of her face ;perthps he had remarked that her last words and smiles were for the Prince. The young man, who had lighted a cigarette, apparently found his own company very enjoyable. At last he said : “She is a. charming woman." “ \Vhich '.’”asked Kennedy, unsympatheti- call}: “Yes, they were both very well dressed,” he said, with an air of conviction. “Like Parisians. ” vey the idea of having cost a great deal of money.” “ \Vhat should you think this cost ‘1” she asked, lagghling. » _ > “ And you really don’t Iznowv Trouville ?” said Mrs. W'ilton to the Prince. “ 011, it is such adear place: so delightful to stay at, you know. “'e spent such a. happy time there last year. And we met a Marquis there, such a charming person, but I forget his name. Annie will know, he paid her so much attention. \Vhat was the name, Annie. of that Marquis we met at Trou- ville Kennedy fouiid himself in a corner, but he answered boldly : “ Ten or fifteen pounds, I suppose.” The young girl looked up in mock despair. “ A gown from Worth for fifteen pounds!” she said; “you are as bad as Tom; he is dreadfully ignorant and unobsei'vant. \Vhen I have worn a. dress ever so many times, he will say, as a new idea, ‘What a jolly dress you have on ! “’hen did you get it 1" ” “Never mind, mannna,” said Annie, sweet- ly; “ he was a horrid old thing; I hated him. No, Mr. Kennedy, I really won’t let you give me any more roses ; you are quite spoil- ing your garden.” ” I hope I shall see you soon again,” he said, as he bowed almost reverentially to Miss Annie, but the young girl held out her hand with English freedom, and the Prince blessed the nation that allowed him to hold a. woman’s hand in his own after half an hour’s acquaintanceship. “Good-morning,” she cried gayly. “Are you going to the sea? I’ll comeback with you. I leftmalmna, there. \Ve’re so tired of being together we were on the point of quarelling. ” l The Prince listened to the young girl in admiring silence. There was never any need to make conversation with these ladies. Both talked a good deal; both had pleasant voices and pretty ways, that most men liked exceedingly. As theUPvrince and Annie turned into The \Valk they saw Mrs. Wilton moving grace‘ fully away in the far distance. There were but few people about ; an old gentleman doz- ing on a bench in the sun,' an elderly lady walking sharply up and down for a con- stitutional, and a stout old young maid trip- ping along by her aged mother, and talk- ing very loudly in a plaintive childish so- pmno. “ Do you like England?” Miss \Vilton ask- ed the Prince ; “ Do you admire this part of the country ‘3” "Any country must be beautiful ihhabit- ed by Englishwomen,” he answered. They were at that moment passing the old young maid and her mother. Poor Lady Baker’s yellow cadaverous face and the daughter’s flabby one gave laughable irony to the Prince’s compliment. They naturally stood still to speak with him, forneither they nor any of the natives would let slip an opportunity of improving their acquaintance with the 9n “ “'0 always bring these things with us,” she explained to Kennedy; “ we are not like other people, we cannot drink out of ordin~ ary china, cups.” Miss Annie began to laugh, as she often laughed, without obvious reason. The Prince admired all she did, and thought the most brilliant of his counti'ywomen could not be compared with her. “ I should so like to go to Chigdon Cas- tle,” said Mrs. \Vilton; “ I wonder if you and Mr. Kennedy would join us? One must not idle away all one’s time, and al- though I own to the delights of the (lolca fur zzirnte in this dear little bay, it is my duty to show Annie the historical monuments of her country. And then we could go and hear the band on Chigtlon Pier." The Prince was warm in his approval of this project. As they went up the High- street again they met Kennedy strolling down. Mrs. \Vilton begged him to come in and have tea. Miss Annie sat behind a lovely Chelsea tea-set, and handed round cups and little gold spoons. l“ch,” said Mrs. \Vilton, sighing, “we are, as a family, over-sensitive to elegance. My dear mother would never $ufl'e1‘ an ugly servant in her house; and aftexl Annie’s nursé had smallvpox, I could never bring myself to have her back again, although she was quite the most faithful person I ever had.” “\Vcll,” said Annie. “I am afraid I don"t properly keep up the traditions of the family on that point. I often go to see nurse, and like her face as much as ever.” “ “'hat a sweet place this is I” exclaimed Mrs. \Vilton as she came up ; “ so quiet and rural, quite Arcadia. But where are all the inhabitants ‘3 I like a little life, I must con~ fess. My poor dear mother would not he able to endure a week of this. She is quite a, wonderful person, never tired, and always ready for amusement. However 1 do think at her age she should take a. little rest. Think of what she would save if she gave up travelling l” 7 “\thn shall we go to Chigdou‘f’ asked the Prince. He sat near Miss \Vilton, and drank a great many cups of tea. fur the plea- surc of receiving something from her hands. “Could we not say to-morrow ?” said the elder lady; “The sooner these de- lightful little plans are carried out the bot- tex ” She appealed to Kennedy; he saw no oh- jection. “How my dear mother would like to be with us I” said Mrs. \Vilton. “ She is so fond of anything of that sort, and so clever at organizing. But 1 dare say she is enjoying herself where she is.” “ She must have a very good constitution,” remarked Kennedy, “ for, I suppose, she is elderly.” “I am sure you find Englishwomen very kind to you. \Ve are all so fond of rank and birth, you know. \Ve \Viltons are a. very good family, of course, only somehow the Queen doesn’t take much notice of us. Once we knew the son of a real Duke. He was a. delightful person, as mamma. and granny would say. “'0 spent a whole six months in his service, toiling from morning till night to please him, and then one evening we met him and his mother at a dance, and he never came near us. In return for all our dinners he might at least have intro- duced us to the Duchess.” “ I :vill do anything you wish me to do,” said the Prince ; “ but I cannot give up the hope that you will one day visit my coun- try.” “seventyionr,” said Annie, and “inex- haustible. I do dread her visits to us. Last year we stood three hours in the park to see the Queen pass to open Parliament ; and another day, when we were all half dead with a long morning at the Academy, gran- ny tripped down stairs like a girl, and insist- ed on going on to tlieflrosrenor.” “ I hope you will give me the honor of in- troducing you to my people one day,” said the Prince and he showed his growing ad- miration very clearly in his eyes. The young girl raised her own calmly to his lace. / “I think it is too far,” she answered ; “I do not care for travelling. But if you will introduce gi'andmamma to any one she will be delighted. Although she is seventy-four, she adores travelling. She is now in Switzer- land, and last week she went up the gigi,‘ and tO-morrow she rides from Luzern to In- terclahen. ” Mrs. \Vilton had now turned backand was coming to meet them. Keniledy shudder-ed in his soul. \Vhat an awful phantom of a worldly old lady rose in the background. behind Miss \Vilton and the tea-things 1 He looked attentively from mother to daughter. l’ale and pretty, with a high, small nose and thin, restless mouth, Mrs. \Vilton lay back in her chair, fanning herself. She was gently fading:r under the hand of time ; but from thought, or grief, or pain, she had gained and lost nothing. Ken- nedy turned his dissatisfied eyes upon the daughter. At 18 the mother herself may have looked as ingcnuous and candid. “ How pretty her eyes are,” thought he; and then he fell to admiring the rounded fullness of her throat and chin. and quite forgot his intention of discerning on her face the shal- lowness of her soul. He was conscious of a change in her appearance since yesterday, but was some time in finding:r out that it was due to her having replaced “'orth's costume by a single white washing-dress covered with lace. He overlooked the fact that, however cheap the material, a dress, covered with such aquantityof lace, musthe very expensive. Only Miss Annie and her dress-maker knew how many yards had gone to the trimming of that gown. She had put it on that morn- ing with a woman’s intuition, and Kennedy was coneiliated by its dedeptive simplicity. And when he noticed a little red rose, worn close up to her throat, he felt sure she was a nice girl, for that rose was one from his own garden. She was talking to the Prince, and Kennedy was provoked by the young man’s animation. He had lived with him some months, and found him very heavy ; he had even conceived an idea that a court com- posed of units like this Prince must be a very objectionable place indeed ; and now here was the very fellow who generally went to sleep in the afternoon, no matter how inâ€" teresting and instructive was Kennedy’s con- goodâ€"looking foreigner, about whose rank and riches such wild rumors were in circula- tion. He‘saw and accepted his fate with the urbanity that distinguished him. Miss \Vilton stood apart, smiling, and drawing patterns on the gravel with the handle of her parasol. “Then the Prince rejoined An- nie \Vilton, she'said : In accordance with a gross superstition still prevalent among the upper classes of Russian society, Frolotf, the brutal and clumsy hangman whose abominable con- duct at the nihilistic execution on Good Fri- day last was insufficiently punished by a sound flogging, appears to have realized a handsome sum of money by selling to mem- bers of the hereditary and bureaucratic aris- tocracy sections of the ropes used upon the occasion. These fragments, in great demand at from ten to twenty rubles apiece, are stated to have brought him in several lum- dred pounds. His fee for hanging the wretched conspirators‘four pounds per headâ€"is a. mere trifle compared to the amount of his profits from the sale of the “hempen collars” with which they were strangled, and of the coarse stufi‘ hoods drawn over their faces and shoulders a few seconds before the completion of their death sentence. Strips of these hoods have been eagerly bought up by members of the secret associations as sacred relics ; so that Frolofl' has derived emoluments from the hideous tragedy of the 15th inst., which doubtless, in his estimation, constitutes a satisfactory set off against the lashes laid on his back in punishment for his ghastly blundering under the gallows~tree. An essentially Russian feature in that terrible scene was the fact that Frolon was so drunk when he set about his dark task that he could hardly keep his feet. As he was fumbling with the cord around Kyssakofl’s neck, vainly endeavoring to adjust the noose, the surgeon in attend- ance remonstrated with him upon his awkardâ€" ness, whereupon Frolofi'exelaimed: “\Yhat matter? It will do well enough. “'hen your time comes to be hanged, I will arrange the noose otherwise!” That this sottish rui‘lianihinlself thrice a murderer gshould be a Russian state functionary is a deplor- able hutby no means surprising illustration of the moral degradation into which despot- ism and corruption has plunged the Muse-ov- ite realm. H.“ my.» wuu w >3. ’ W "’ D As the two men turned the corner of the street, Kennedy turned back and saw Miss \Vilton standing on the balcony. She had taken the rose from her dress, and was twirl» ing it around her fingers. Kennedy could but give but half an ear. Mrs. \ 7ilt0n, beginning to compliment him on his church music, had rushed headlong into a dissertation on Gregorian, grotesque Gothic architecture, and the intricacies of syncopated music, till he was quite bewilderâ€" ed hy her confident ignorance. V o 77777 “ I shall probably be Ambassador some day,” said the Prince, “so I must get up modem languages well.” The yoifilg girl, who, with an air of wrapt attention, was not listening at all, caught at the word “Ambassador,” and with inherited intrepidity made haste to re- ply~ A "‘ Oh ! shall you be Ambassador? I do lovediplomaticpeople and that sort of thing!” and then she began to laugh at the Prince’s gratified air. V “ Do you really ?” he said. “I was afraid you did not care for travelling. But you re» ally think you would like it '3” “ Come,” thought Kennedy ; “ after this“ it’s time to go.” So he rose, and the final arrangements were made for an expedition to Chigdon Cae- tle on the following day. “ \Ve might (line at Mordaunt’s Hotel, and comeback in the cool,” said Mrs. “'ilton; “I remember hearing my mother say how good the cuisine is there.” V The Prince took leave with many hows, and he held Miss Annie’s hand a little long- er than even British genero_sity allows. A-LL,L - versution, waking up into something like liveliness to listen to the worldly chatter of a yoyng girl ! V“I avnr so very fortunate to have made your acquaintance just now,” said the Prince. “ \Vell, yes, thank you, just half a cup more”ithis was the fifthâ€"“ I return home in less than a month. I only came over to brush up my English a. little.” Russian soldiers are taught a trade, and allowed, when off duty, to earn money by it. A naturalist has discovered that monkeys may be taught to dance. This brings the natural animal only one stop nearer the society man. Dr. (inner, the fasting man, still liveth, and is showing the Chicago people a new anu-sthetic of his own invention, for painless teeth pulling. If we would make good use of 0111' money we should patronize ably conducted and re- sponsible newspapers.~Rothschild. New York epidemics seem to spare the fools. At least, a healthy pair of them went over to Long Island and fought a duel the other day, and both get back home. \Vhat is a summer resort ? That is, whas isn’t a summer resort ‘3 Every town in thit country with a frog pond,and on old bridgeand a bank of willows, puts in a claim as a resort. Let’s us hear from some place where they have ague, mosquitoes and fleas. A Vienna dispatch says: In the middle of the approaching summer the Austrian Im- perial family will receive annmber of visitors at the charming resort of Ischl. During the stay of the Emperor and Empress there the Crown Prince and his bride will Visit the town. The greatest interest centres in the fact that the three Emperors, Francis Joseph, the German Emperor and the Czar, will as» semblc at that spot about the same time, and there is much talk about the intentions of the three monarchs in thus meeting together. It is certain that the three courts are more cordial at this moment than they have been for a long time past. There is naturally great rejoicing at Ischl. The watering place will, of course, be crowded with visitors, and it is certain that the season will be one of the most brilliant for many years past. W. H. Vanderbilt has recently bought Millet’s painting of the “ \Vater-Carrier” for $15,600. Millet was the artist who could never get anything for his pictures While he was alive. Meeting of the Emperors. A Drunken Hangman. TO BE (IONTIN London lt‘legmph‘ SCISSORS. £00 1.0} oohâ€"’7 .0.