"In is Egaie's birthday, M try; hadyou foxigptbeg ‘3" Mrs. Langton looked up from her plats. withjendef, sorggwful gyea. “No. Dear Ehie, How could I forget But I have no preocnt for her ; it: is so long Sines I have hem out; of the house.†“ Welly, Max-y, you say nouhing. Have] chosen badly '1" “ No, indeed, Walter; it could no;~ be prettier." “ Then, why do you look on and, my love ‘3†Before Mrs. ngton could have answered, even if she had intended to do so, the door opened quickly. anti Eiuie, her cheeks red- ddnod mth exercise, her eyes glowhlg, darted in, and came smiling to her moï¬â€˜ner’s side. “ I wanted to give you a. pleasant} surprise ongggr biytrhdayflj She mid this not: murmudngly, though Mrs. Laugton’s life had been ene hf long suffering, and the summer. wlvh lea flamers and fruits, had left her as it had faund her, a patient: invalid. But E‘de, with her sweet, girlish laughter, and mnshluy eyes. made summer everywhere, and guns Mrs. Langbon, through the keeuness of her sym- pathy, 9 partion of her own pleasure. “ Dear mamma, Why did you get) up so early '3 You will be as tired before she night comes ! ’ ’ MEILJngton took a amnfl morocco case out o{ his pwkeh, ugd showed in t9 {1h wifq. “My gift) is be be a locket," he said. “ Elsie was admiring Cecilia. Mcbsrly'a the other day, and it gave me the idea of getting her one as much like it an pmible. Look, my dear; for c. novice in such things, the imitation is not bad. I sketched the design myself, and Ramon has carried it» out: very skillfully.†Mrs. ngton took h: in her hand, and examined it with approving in Latest; but. though a faint smile hovered across her lips, when she gave it; back, 1:. mar glistened among the pearls. “ Then it wag decidedly Wrong,†anawer- ed E lSi-‘J, with a preth pout ; and then softly, as she kissed her. “ Yen know I should love to lmvu you, if it were right, darling ; but you Will f€~el so weary all day.†“ Tnen I can lie duwn.†Mr. ng‘xm cmllul Elsie‘a attention to the locket 21.; this juncture, and so her re- monstrancea terminated suddenly. “ I have nothing for you,†hie; wife said; “ Vpapa‘s present 130313}; do for pom." ‘ _ “ 0}}, immfma», as if I wanted anything beyoqu {he feeligg that 3911 131th lovec} mg: i: And then, seeing that Mr. Langbou looked a little disappointed, she fling herseli into hiu urmu, and thanked him brightly and graily for his thoughtful present, and declar- ed she had never seen such a pretty locket in all her life. “ And you really admire ic, Elsie ‘2" “ Why, you know, papa, it has been my were-1t ambition to have one like Cecilia “laberlyvs.†“If your ambition had been secret how a ~-mld I lluve kuown in ‘2" he Mixed with i 5111,2621? irony. *‘ Only that i never said so.†“Not exactly in worv’ia; but my little Elaie is a very transparent: person, and makes her moderate desires quite clear without putting them into phrases.†“ Am I. too trausparenu, pip». '1" “ Not for your present) circumstances, as- suredly.†’ “ For what circumstances, than '3" “ Supposing you were alone in the world, you Would need more cautiou.†' “ But: I never shall b6," said the girl, with a. light: shudder. “ I shall always have yogfmd mamma to take pare 9f mfg.†--.....,-. __.... -_ .- .c ...m - .. have um; known the sorrow of a great lees. The wolf may enter every other fold ; but he dare not invade theirs, because it is theira. Others are deprivei of parents and friends, but their blind security never fails them until the destroyer comes into their midst, and takes out: of their very arms the beloved one, whom they wculd have shed their blood gladly to save. Mrs. ngton opened her line to reprove l Elsie for her unreasoning conï¬dence, and then closed them as suddenly. After all, it might be as well to let; the girl hope whilst she could. There was a minute’s silence, and the; Mr. Lington said guin enough, although with. effort, “You Will wear my gift to-night, Eleie '2" “ To night"; yea, pupa. But why ?" “ You are going to spend the evening M Mrs. Maherly’s, are you not ‘2†“ While you two are s‘barring, the (liuner is getting cold,†mid Dr. Muberly, offering his arm to Elsie ; “ and my Wife tells me that we are to have a little dance to-night in humour of your eighteen years.†“ You are very good.†“ I mustn’t take the credit of it, my dear, The proposition was Cecilia’s entirely." “ I!) was very kind of Cecilia, then.†“ She thought of her own pleasure as given 9.5 yours, ’ll be bound.†: “ And mine, father, chimed in Lawrence‘s deep, musics-1 voice ; “ it is so long since I .danccd with Elsie.†l’hen he was juqt the same as ever. Elsie took in this feet with delighted surprise, and glanced shyly across the 1’s.le at l Lawrence, who was glancing, but not shyly, at her. She cast down her eyes, and coloured ; he stroked his blonde beard. and “dues TEL, L,JL,J . "I havevre'iusei’, papa. I thought I would not leave mamnm, as she is nob atgopg.â€_ Always 1 Ah I so it is wibh those who have um; known bhe sorrow of a great lees. The wolf may enter every other fold ; but: he dare not invade theirs, because it is theira. Others are deprivei of parents and friends, but their blind security never fails them until the destroyer comes into their midst, and takes out: of their very arms the beloved one, whom they wanld have shed their blood gladly to save. “ You are a good girl, Elsie, but: I can’t have you shut yourself up in this way, and on your birthday, too. Ab eighteen I liked gaiehy myself.†u “ I' shall be quite happy at home, mamma. I sent Cecilia word last nighb that I should not be able to come.†Mr; ngton looked at her with vary lmï¬gg eyes. “And I shall send her word this morning that I have no intention of accepting your aecriï¬ce, Elaie. It is paying your papa. a. poor compliment: to suppose that be cem- noh enterbain me.†“Oh lbuta I didn’t: mean ,that.†“Of course you didn’t, Elsie. The princi- ple of your Whole life hlï¬ been self-nbnega- tion, and now it has become a habit: that really requires checking. You will go to- night to please me; and if I should be taken worse, or anything, I will send for you.†And he? Would he be altered only in face, Elsie wondered. He had once called her his “little wife ;†but now it would be “Miss ngbon,†no doubt ; and in the whirl nnd tunnel! of his life, these late years, the very memory of the old days would have faded, leaving; but a. faint trace behind. Of course, it was only natural; man cannot stay at home and nurse their tender recollec tions as women do ; and vet, Elsie thought: that if he were to meet her with a cold hand, and unsmiling face, if would seem bitterly hard. This promise settled the question. In. her heart: Elsie had longed to o, for her old play-fellow, Lawrence Ma. erly. had just returned from India, and it would be pleasant to see him again. Es had gone away a lad ; he would coma back a man, to ï¬nd little Elsie a. tall, beauhiful girl of eigï¬eenâ€"a noble woman, insbend 0t asweet c i . She nerved herself for this, boo. Over and over again ahe told herseLf that it might be so, until the iteration wearied and inimit- ed, and she was glad to push the thought ELSIE‘S BIRTHDAY GIFT. A STORY OF WOMANS DEVOTION. Elsie was not a eoquetteâ€"no truehearhed womam ever wasâ€"and yet she lingered awhile, in front: of the mirror, hgldlug the splendid masses of her sunny huir in both hands, and wmderlng how she Ihould Wear it; ooâ€"uighb. Whilst: she atlll hesitated, Mrs. Lat-goon came in. Erie dropped the rich trans, and amoped to hide her quick blush of shame. But Mrs. Langton was 3 young woman still. kindly and sympathetic besides, and it would not hsavo struck her to reprove her daughter for 9. little natural vnnit‘y. from‘her, ‘and‘ busy heraeif with the simp1e datdls of her toilest for the evening. Married at six been, Mm. Langbon had been It mother when she was still Limes! 0. child. Eleie was her ï¬rst-born, but year after year other children were given her, who scarcely opened their eyes in this cold world. ere they closed them again, shivering, and Ehrie remained the ï¬rst and 011157 one Mrs. Lmngtnn had no love. Her heart was sorely tried by these repeated losses, and yet she never re- pined ; and her perfect faith and resignation were very sweet memories m Eisie in the long future years. ‘rYou mast: be quick, my love,†Mrs. ng‘mn said ; “ the Maberlys dine at ï¬ve, and it: is already half-puma four.†Elsie Imprisoned she loose masses of her hair once more, and began to twist and turn them in her deft ï¬ngers, until they formed a shining caronet ovcr her low, whibe brow. A Simple white dress, with 9. blue ribbon at the waist, the locket round her slender neck‘ and Elsia's bullet WAS complete. Bub them was a flush on her cheek, and a light in her eyes which made her sweet loves lines as brilliant as could be desired, and Mra. ngton gazad at her with as much pride an aflect-ion. Coming out of the gloom of twilight into the sud&en light of many candlefl, Eliie’s dazzlad glsuce took in but: Wigualy the out- line of a. few confused ï¬gures in Mrs. Mubar- lv’s drawing room. Cecilia’a kiss wan the ï¬rst re3lity, followed by one a trifle; less cordial only from Mrs. Mubarly. Then the doctor held out; his hand, and began some jesï¬ng reference to his son being a perfec‘ ehranger, going through the caremcny of in~ trnduction in due form. Elsie glanced up shyly then under the shadow of her long lashes, and there stood a tall, broad-shouldered, brouzad man, “ bearded like a pard,†with smiling blue eyes,and lips as soft: and sensihivu as a. woman’s though half hidden by a slight blonde mustache. merence had possession of her hand by that: time, Ind held it in a vice. “ And so this is my little playfellow of years back, grown to woman’s eatate,†he said, regarding her with a. contemplative ex- pression that showed anything but disap- probai'ion at the change. “ You never prom- ised to be so tall, Elsie." “I don’b remémber stipulating anything of the kind,†“ Not: by word of mouth, but you weren’t: lank of limb and awkard of gait, as girls generally are who mean he make ï¬ne women in the end." Elsie, entering into the humour of the situation, dropped bin 3. demure little courtlsgy. “ I have every remle to be gru-teful to V011 for so cousiderahely leaving the neigh- bourhood whenI was in that transition state you so much condemn. I feel Mme I owe your good opinion entirely to this for- tunate has.†l’hen he was juqh the same as evsr. Elsie took in this fact with delighted surprise, and glanced shyly across the 1’s.le at Lawrence, who was glancing, bub not shyly, at her. She cast. down her eyes, and coloured ; he stroked his blonds beard. and smiled. If he had had {my tears on her ac- count, they were gone now. letle Elaie was big Elsie, but in all other ways she was unchanged. There was the same uncom- promising love of truth, the same modest grace of manner, the same demure smile. Only that: when he remembered how he had once fondled her, warenoa was warned by a. true instinct; that: if he attempted anynhing of the kind at: present he would soon ï¬nd,to his cash, that she was a. diï¬â€˜erenu Elsie alto- gather. “Not at all,†he answered, laughing. “ Inevar allowed myself no suppaaa that my Afspgco was anything but} a. 1033:.†Casterton was inch a fashionable town. by any means. The young people dropped in after an early tea, or what was consider- ed a very late dinner, ani the business of the evening commenced at once. Elsie, with an abiding flush on her face, looked so beautiful, than the village beaux flo eked round her, and were inclined to be irate when they found that Lawrence Maberly had secured so many dances for himself. It was hardly fair of him to make proï¬t; ouh oi his advantages as a travelled man. As for his beard Bub here words failed Law- rence's detractors. It was hard, of coursz, when they had been brought up to consider it a virtue to be clean shaved, that) Law- rence who hnd no such respechable prejud- ices, should carry the day, and turn all the women’s heads. For so it was, there was no disguising the fact ; Lawrence was pro- nounced irresistible, and the girls forgot: to envy Elsie, in admiring him. But Luwrencehad no eyes or ears for any one but Elsie. He carried her 05 to the conaer va- tory ostensibly to show her a beautiful whit: camelia in full bloom; really because he wanted her all to himself, “and felt an odd kind of jealousy of her other admirers. “Elnié,†he s-aid softly, “do you remem- ber What I used to 03!} you in times gone by ‘2" 'Elsie’s hem-l: began to beat very fast, but she tried to answer caralesaly. “How ahouidI know? I had so many names.†“Had you? I can only think of one Mm" His eyes were on her, those; deep, search- ing blue eyes, which, in their mgr-mesa, had forgotten to smile, and Elsie, trembling‘ turned ewev her head. “It is so long ago, now," she ï¬ltered. rOnly six Steers, Elsie. How fond you used to be of violets," he added presently. "Have. you kept your old fancy ‘2" “I love all flawers.†“If I pick you one of these camelias, will you honour me bv wearing it.†“I think not.†“Tell me why.†His voice was tender and perzuaeive, and thrilled Elsie through and through, But the said to herself, with passionate empha- eie. “He he a man of the world. Ind seeing you so simple, he means to fool you to the bop of his been. Haven cure.â€_ . 2‘11: would be cruel to pluck lb,†the an- swered, taming coldly sway ; sud, besides, I srlrxgulgluhaydly line to face Cgc'i‘llgâ€"r“ ' “I will take all the responsibility,†he in- borrupted, eagerly. “She would blame me all the same.†“Msy I ask her, then T†‘Cartainly not, Mr. Maberly; h is not worhh while.†"You called me strence j all: now." he said. in a reprouohful bone. “Did I? Then I beg your pardon.†“You need nobâ€"it: was a. true pleasure {so hear my name from your iipn.†“I am afraid you an very easily pleased.†“Elsie I†“Mr. Maberly I" "Have I done anything to offend you '2" “No; why do you :91: 1’†“B mause a. minute ago you seemed to re- gard me as a friend, and now, suddenly, you treat me as a. atr Lager.†His voice wï¬uisgrï¬léintiva, bhah Ehie be ganjq re!_enï¬. 7 "I don’t] feel at. all as if you were a shrang~ 61',†she anewered with one of her frank, sweet: smiles, and she held out: her hand. He seized i1) so vehemently that she repent;- ed of the conceasion, and withdrew it at once. “You aegis/V0355“ him by his Christian name. †"True. I have: known him ever since I was a. mere child.†“And me ‘1†“Well,†answered Elsia, mischievoualy, “you ha. ve destroyed your identity with that: heard, and I feel as it I had to make your acquaintance anew.†"If ought to go back. I have promised thiggance to Stephc}; Lgnez†A. -.~ :‘I wili cut it off.†said Lawrence giving it a flares, digdainfuli‘gug: “Oh, no 1" was Elaie's quick response, rather ruefully uttered, for she was not in- different: to the fact that it became him Well. "Only give me time to recogniza you in ygur new character.†Lawrence stood there in gloomy thought, with the soil), hint pariume of the camelia giving him an odd sense of pain and yearn- ing impossible to describe. And then he stole out: of his retreat}, back into the room where the dancers were whirling round to the music of a gay Waltz. {sic passed him once ; but it struck him, somehow, that, although she danced with spirit, there was a shadow on her face. At this minute he felt a hand on his arm. “You have quite forgotten me, I per- ceive,†said a voice he recognizad as belongâ€" ing to a. maiden lady, Whoae sharp tongue and cruel gossip nad made her for years as much disliked as flawed. “ID seems the fashion tonight to think of no one but Elaie Lawton." “i beg your pardon," said Lawrence, holding oun his hand with a certain inward repugnance; “it: mush be a. question of feeling with new-comers who know mobbing of the fashions.†‘71 would rather you remembered me in mygld.†“Here comes Stephen. I must really go," Elsie said, blushing divinely ; and, gaï¬her- lug her skirts boaehher in her dainty hand, she swept out without raising her shy eyes to Lawrence's face. “I didn’t say that people thought her handsome. She fancies so heruelf, that is clear.†"I can’t see any sign of it." “Look how she flirbs with that Stephen Lane. He has been dangling after her, to my cersain knowledge, for more than a year but she won’t give him a plain answer ba- cauea nheia in hopes of something better burning up in the meantime.†“Panhaw !†exclaimed Miss Merridew dis- dainfully. "I don’t see any beauty in the girl myselfz†“Acucording to your own account, Miss Megigby, you are singular in this opinion.†“ Aré yhu quite sure you are not judging Mias Langton by yourself ‘2" said Lawrence, with com scorn. 1 “ 1 can answer for one bhing,’ she re- plied, with deliberate spite; “ that never in my giddieat days, could I have danced whilst: my mother was dying." “ Dr. Maberly was sent for suddenly two hours ago. “ To Mrr'. Langimn Y" “ So Cecilio. told me herself.†“Then Elsie does not: know." Miss Merridew laughed incredulously. Lawrence gave her a glance which vindi- cated poor Elsie almosu as well as words could have done, and strode towards the piano. Cecilia. was playing the last: bars of the waltz, and was able to attend to him. “I hope and believe non. But: she is verv in. Papa has been with her some time." “Does Elsie know?" “ Mrs. Langton begged that we wouldn’t; tell her.†"‘ Mrs. Lang‘oon'is Kati dying,†said Law- rencg. infligpmciy. “Surely that was mistaken kindness, Cecilia?" “ Whatia this about Mrs. Langhon ! Miss Maggide tells xpeï¬hpn she is dyigg.†_ “ I think so, but it was her mother's wish. Elaie is so self-sacriï¬cing, so energetic, that: she would have rushed away immediately ; and aha is so much conï¬ned as it is, that: Mrs. Langbon no doubt thought this little change necessary. If there should be any res! danger: she is to be 391117 for at; 9nce._†The words were scarcely out of her lips before the door opened, and Mr. Lington. terribly white and grave, stood on the threshold. “Where in Elsie?†he said in a hoarse voice. “ Here I am, papaâ€"~â€" 8le WM at his side in a. second, happy, excised, smiling. Bub one glance into his face, and her hands fall, and she uttered a. stiflzd cry :â€" “ Mamma ‘1" “ She wants you, Elsie ; came at once.†SI)? wauld have gone just as she was, but szre‘snce caught up a shawl of Uecilia’a, and threw it over her shoulders. Then she (lasted out, MI" Lamgtou following. I! She dared not ask how her mother WM, or put inm words the terrible fear that was at her heart}. She went swifbly and silently down the quiet street, pushed open her own door, and entered. She glanced into the dining-room, but; ï¬nding it empty and dark, rushed upstairs. There was a light in her mother’s chamber, sud even an the landing she could hear Dr. Maberlv's kind, cheery voice, speaking some words at comfort to the invalid. “ Here she is,†he said, and draw back to legljllaie: pass. Mrs. Langbon looked up inbo her daugh- ber’a face with very winernt eyes, and there was a gray shudgw aver hat f ace, which even Elsie, inexperienced as she was, felt must baboken death. "Elsie," said her mother, aolomnly, “ I know you have a teldn' heart and a noble nab no, and therefore I make you this birth any gift." " Elsie, I give thia child to you. Promise me that you will guard her faithfully nntrll your life's end.†“ Mother, I will l" “ Then I am contented to die.†She called Mr. Langmn to her side. and with a glanoe from one be the other, el uonn of love and (slob, she gently expired. Me fell forward somaleso, and for hours aha was unconscious, nob only of sorrow, but even of exlsbonco. The gray down was breaking coldly, and the llnble birds wore Motoring in a dreamy fashion under the eaves, when Elsie at: lam; oponed her ayoc. Shé drew down the "vex-let, and showed We}. 3"“51â€9° 0311". 90.891“- She had a. sense If lufloibe languor and wearineas, a. kind of dull pnln 3b her heart, bun ah ï¬rst she could realizs nothing. It; was only when she saw her father and the nurse bonding anxiously shove her, and missed one who should have been there, she began to understand hot great; loss, and to feel that the place which was vacant to-dnv would be vacant: for ever. Elpio turned her face to the wall, and wept convulsively. The old woman bxied to soothe her, but: Mr. Langbouinberposed. “ Let her cry, Mar- tha," he said geatly; “ib will ease her heart). I would give a hundred pounds will- ingly if I could. shed asiuglo tear.†But Marthe was Wiser lat-ill. She aboie out of the room, and returned with the baby in her arms, which she laid down aoifly at Elsie’a aide. Elsie took the little one inbo her arms, and huahed her wild Hobs. The tears flawed still, but in a. healing Dhewer ; and when baby opened her brighn eyes, Elaie could even ï¬nd a smile to sweeten her car- ass. Elsie found plenty of aï¬eotionate lymph» thy at this trying pariod of her life. Mr. Langbon rejected :myhhing of the kind, with an impatience and irritability quite foreigh to his character. Elsie Wm oung, and could ï¬nd consolation in her ubies; he was old and the sun had sol) on his life for ever. When Elaie would throw her arms about him, and speak some wards of comforh, he would push her gently but deberminedly away, and it; was noticed by the whole household how he shrank from the mere sight of the liable one who had cost him the mother’s life. But Elsie made up for this neglect in true and tender care. Baby was her one obsorbv lng thought ; and if another dared to infrudo. she banished it; as if it were a. treason. All this while she had not once [seen Lawrence Mnberly. Cecilia came every day, and ofneu she spoke of her brother’s probable return to India in the course of a. couple of months: bu?) Elsie, uhough she felt herself quiver and flush, would sry to speak indifl'erently of this: proppept, as if it; did nop uongarn her. Nor did it now, the thought. It; wan: non for her to dream of marriage, who had a sacred charge $0 keep. She felt; that st- rence loved her, and in her secret: soul she reciprocated his love, Bub how could she leave the child? And to take her {:0 India, Where her little, enfaebled life would soon be poisoned, wan a notion that Elsie treated with utter scorn. Batter to sacriï¬ J8 herself a. hundred times over, than try to escape any of the un- spoken conditions Which had accompanied Mm. prvbon's birthday gift. Mra. ngton 113.6. began†dead nearly two months, when Cecilia. Mabel-1y came in one day to ask Elsie to pass thB (waning with them. “We shall be quite alone,†she urged; and papa. says you are looking so sadly, from want of exercise, &3., and that: its is really necessary you should come. Basides this, Lawrence leaves in a. fortnight: now, and he is most: anxious to sm vou before he goes. We are such very old friends, Elsie, that; you cu.th not really to object.†“Deer Cecilia, I wish, you wouldn’t ask me. I do not; like to seem ungraclous, and yeh 1 really could not come.†“Why not 1 This: question made Elsie tremble almoat convulsively. How could she tell Celilia that: she dreaded to meet: Lawrence, without explaining the reason? And, after all, ib was juzt possible that she had misconstrued his inventions. and he might not: think of asking her at all; so that: she would look very vain in her friend’s eyes if she acknow ledged that she had alarmed herself unnee- eeafrily. " Papa guys it: is right, and therefore you must come, whe‘cher you like it or no,†Ce- cilia said, ï¬naUy, as she kiased Elsie, and departed. “ Baby can quite well spare you for one evening ; and, after all, it is as much to her interest) as yours for you to preserve your health, and unless: you take a libtle re- )axzwion sometimes, I can’t see how you are to do that.†“ I wish you would excuae ma, Cecilia." †Bub I won’t}, you see; so it is no use say- ing anybhiug more abou§_ln.†Conéequently she tried to evade a. direct answer, but Cecilia. would not be denied. And so Elaie went. She meant to be very cold, :1 little haughty. and visibly repellent, so that: nothing in her manner might teach Lawrence to hope. Inabew‘ of that}, when she got to the door, and saw Lawrence stand- ing there awaiting her, his kind, pleasant: face in a glow of welcome, she did what many other women would have done in her placeâ€"she held out her hand frankly, and burst into tears. " My dear Elsie," said Lawrence, truly disï¬regaqd, “’5qu pain n_m beyogd.measur_e.†And then his arm stole round. her waist. and, drawing her head back ayainsb his breast, he said, tenderly, “ My darling, you are not taking care of yoursalf, I can see. Yuu must: give me the right to watch over you and your health. 1 must leave stter- 3 ton in a. fortnight, but I may return for you i in a year, may I not, and claim you for my very own ‘1†“ Oh, Lawrence E" i “ Wail, my iove ‘2†“You must not speak in this way to me.†“ Where is the impediment ‘2“ he asked, ‘ F i . r F r “- Impossible, Lawrence 1 B‘by in'so deli- cate, naturally. chat to take her to India. would be certain death. wihh a. slight smile, and a tighter measure of his arm on her waist. “ Don't] you know them mamma. left me a. sacred charge ‘1†“ True; but she did not mean that, on this account, you were nov no marry, and share this charge with another. I do not ask you to forsake your litmle sister, but I think you might: reconcile your two dutigs easily." The ï¬ftieth annual show of the Royal Agriculture] Society. at VVlndeor, which closed last Saturday, was the grandest ex- aeeltlen of agricultural progress ever held in rent Britain. All the eircumltenoes con- tributed to make it such. I! we: the jubi- lee show of the Society of whiuh Her Majes- tv she Queen is the Praident end his Royal Highneee the Prince of Wales in the Acting President. It we: held in the Great Perk, at Windsor, min/eat in the Ihodow of the grand cutlc which hnslong been the chosen home of the British aevenigo. The state epnrtmmte were thrown open to the public, and visitor: to the show were thus allowed also to inspect the treasures of royalty. The Weather was uncommonly favorable, and no incident WM Venting for the triumphant success of the ehow. The allow-yard com- prised about one hundred and twentyâ€"ï¬ve acres incl-bed in a. fame, The avenues spread out In fun-uhape from the control group of buildings, of which the principal one we! the Queen’s vailion. This beauti- ful ediï¬ce had a frontage of sixty-four feet, and a depth of ï¬ftyfonr feet. It was in the lobe Tudor style of architecture ; the inter- ior decorations were rich and appropriate, and the Whole was a. centre of attraction. The entrance to the show-yard and all the structures on the grounds were in excellent good taste. The shedding for live stock, implements. machinery and other purposes, measured 50,079 lineal feet, and as most of it was furnished with a double front, there were nearly twenty miles of frontage. T)“: show of stock and implemenï¬s was fully worthy of the occasion. OE smock the number of entries was an follows: Horses~ 972;W, 17; cattle. 1.637; sheep, 1,069; goats, 37; pigs. 265; poultry. 862‘ As near- ly every one of tha entries included several animals, the total number WM over 15,000. in some of the classes the show was the largest and ï¬nest ever seen in England. This was notably true of many clauses of cattle. ' But the great improvements which mark the last ï¬fty years were most emphatically shown in the departments of implements and machinery. It is mechanical invention, rather than the improvements of herds and flocks that has sdvancsd British agriculture so greatly the half century. and of this fact the Royal show was in every way a worthy exposition. in extent and variety the dis- play was truly bewildering. Machinery and implements,from the pandsrous road-engines, stenm’plows, threahers, grinding-mills, hay, and straw-presses, and other steam-driven devices; plows, barrows, reapers and other machines operated by horses, 3.0 the most delicate appliances for the dairy, were in full force. Among them were many of American origin, especially chilled plows, reapers, mowers snd grain-drills. The great- est novelty was the Strawsonizer, which it virtually an improved broadcast distributor by pnanmstic power. It distributes either solids in the form of ï¬ne dust, or liquids in a minute spray or mist. It is used. for sprcnding srtiï¬cial fertilizers or insecticides in liquid or solid form, upon fruit trees, shrnus or vegetables, disinfectsnts in solu- tion,etc. It was shown in Vsrions sizes for hon-saver hand-power. Oi farm and dairy prcduca there were 4, 203 entries, embracing producm of the ï¬eld, the dairy, the orchard, and tha apiary. In hives and honey thare were 276 entries in 22 charges. A humble features of nine show was the model dairy in which lectures and de- monstrations of butter-and cheese-making, apiary management, etc, were given from time no time during the week. There were aim competitive exhibitions of horseâ€"shoe- OE agriculturalyagotable and flower»aoods, there WM 3.11 imposing Show. The beautiful decorations of the grounds around the Qlcen's pavilion were farm:th gratuitous- ly by one; ï¬rm of seadumen, and all showed commendabie enterprim not only in the haste- ful manner in which they displayed their ï¬ends, but also by attx‘acbivn shows of fully- grown, fresh vegetablea, mounted specimens of dried-grasses and iox‘aga-plauha,and other features which gave this department high value as a popular educator. The show was in every way a. marvelous success. Among the thousende of spectators were a few veterans who could. remember the ï¬rst show. It was held at Oxford in 1839. the year before the royal charter was obtained ; it was then knowu as the English Agricul- tural Society ; £890 were efl'arcd ior compe- tition, and 251 head of stock were exhibited, with 54 articles of husbandry, displayed on 32 stands. A banquet was served in the quadrangle of Worcester College, at which Daniel Webster, the Minister from the United States, was one of the craters. The royal charter incorporating the Society under its present name was obtained in 1840. The contrast between the diminutive dimen- sion of that ï¬rst show and the magnitude of the Jubilee Show just closed, was a moon impressive indication of the agricultural pro-‘ greets which has marked the reign of our present gracious sovereign. The numerous Americana who have been enthusiastic over the great ehow, are atruck with admiration when they reflect that it is an exhibit of the “ depressed agriculture " of a nation with so limited an area. It ia doubtless true that our methods of farming are more cumber- some than yours in America, but Where do you grow better crops than we have in good old England? And with all due regard for American genius, it will be many a year before the United States will have an ex- hibit to equal this ï¬ftieth Royal Snow. The marriage of a. royal prince or princess to a subject is not; such an uncommon event in English history as many people imagine. From the time of William the Conqueror, whose daughter was wedded to Ssepheu, Count: of Elvis, down to the middle of the 19.56 century. such alliances were byno means unusual. Na) fewer than six of Edward III’a children married su‘oj-zcts, the Black Prince being the ï¬rst. Two brothers of Gmrgo IIL did the some, and numerous other inacmres could be mentioned. As our readers are aware, however, the momoers of her Majâ€" esty‘s fzbmily have hitherto, with one excep- tion, gone ahzmd ior hm‘mmds and Wives. The Royal Show at Windsor. (TO BE CONTINUED.)