vicious aspect. The window, which took up
nearly all the fourth side of the room, used to
be open on these solemn occasions, and, on the
side of the writing-table nearest to the light,
vrere displayed such of the aforesaid shells or
insects as godpapa thought fit to call upon us
to admire. His large wicker arm-chair and a
smaller chair opposite to it were the only sitting
accommodation in the room. Large smooth
mahogany instrument cases there were in
plenty; but what mortal child would have
dared make free with their mysterious support,
under the very eye of the great enchanter, and
the surveillance of the tall violoncello case
which stood stark in the comer by the window,
like a corpulent familiar?

There were evenings which were marked by
a more than common solemnity, however, when
not only I, but all my mother's little tribe of
nestlings, ranging between four and nine years
old, used to be summoned to the celebration of
the mysteries in godpapa's study. On these
occasions it was dark before we were called in, and
when we entered, the largest telescope was
planted in front of the open window, and the
lamp had a large green shade on, which made
the room so dark that it was very difficult for
our restless young legs not to entangle
themselves in some of the manifold stumbling-blocks
which encumbered the floor. Then after weary
pauses of preparation, occupied by godpapa in
pointing the telescope, wiping the lenses, and
going through other cabalistic forms, we were
called forward one by one and directed to peep
at Jupiter, or Saturn, or the mountains in the
moon. And, indeed, it was all pretty much the
same to us which of the heavenly bodies we were
expected to see, for godpapa was always
dreadfully cross and fidgety on those momentous
evenings, and we were frightened and awkward, and
the sky was generally full of clouds, and the stars
were pertinaciously obstinate in playing bo-peep
among their feathery folds, so that I can answer
for those provoking planets more often than
otherwise disguising themselves in the form of
huge black lumps suspiciously like the opposite
chimney-pots to my eyes, except on one or two
occasions, when the apparition of something
bright scurrying, as it seemed to me, across the
corner of the lens, made me jump backward in
such trepidation as once to bring the back of
my head into unpleasant collision with the
chronometer-case behind me.

It was only on those awful telescope evenings
that Aunt Bella took part in our scientific
pursuits in the study. She would be in and out of
the room a dozen times in half an hour, and,
when invited, would apply her eye to the glass
and ejaculate, "Ah! wonderful!" years after,
dear soul! she had ceased to be able clearly to
distinguish even the stitches in her netting. I
know, now, that she bustled in and out, that she
might be always ready to cloak our awkwardness
and smooth away a sharp word from godpapa,
with a caress bestowed in the gloom on some
little curly head, or by the stealthy present of a
morsel of the candied iris root that always lurked
in the queer little old world bonbonnière of
chased silver, with a brown agate in the lid,
which she carried in her pocket.

The only time I ever heard Aunt Bella offer a
word of remonstrance to her lord, was on one of
these evenings, when he had driven us nearly
wild with his crusty ways and his prohibitions
not to move or speak, or do anything but what
it was utterly impossible we should do, namely,
see some astronomical conglomeration announced
as forthcoming on that night. Then, hearing
by some small sniffs and gurgling gasps that the
younger ones were on the brink of a
demonstration, dear Aunt Bella charitably hustled the
delinquents out upon the landing-place, exclaiming
with a backward glance, "Roger Vance!
Roger Vance!"—this, I suppose, was her
culminating symptom of irritation—"don't make the
children fancy you are angry with them;" and so
swept us off to a game at beggar-my-neighbour or
hunt the slipper. So those astronomical recreations,
if they were thorny times to us, were no
less stormy and anxious for Aunt Bella.

THE GIRLS THEY LEAVE
BEHIND THEM.

THE British soldier fighting the battles of his
country, and returning after his term of service
to his native village, a bronzed veteran, with
medals on his breast and money in his pocket,
to gratify the pride and relieve the necessities
of his parents in their declining years—is
certainly a cheering spectacle. But the British
soldier getting drunk and infuriate, smashing
heads with pewter pots in public-houses, and
taking the opportunity of being turned out to
run a muck in the streets, and attack the
passers-by with his belt, is as certainly depressing
to the well-regulated mind. The British
soldier, in fact, is a very noble fellow, when he
does not happen to be a savage, which his best
friends must admit he occasionally is. I know
that there has generally been a difference of
opinion among high military authorities as to
how far it is desirable to make him quite
respectable. The Duke of Wellington said, as
the result of his experience, that the greatest
rascals always fought the best; and this opinion
is probably not unrepresented among
commanding officers in the present day. Soldiers'
libraries, soldiers' clubs, soldiers' workshops, and
all the other modern means of improving the
intellectual and moral condition of the men, do
not find such general favour among their
superiors as might be supposed. There are still
colonels of the "good" old school who would tell
you in confidence—as George the Third gave
his opinion of Shakespeare "It won't do to
say so, you know, but all this new-fashioned
nonsense is ruining the men. What have they
to do with books, and having their condition,
ameliorated, as they call it? By Jove, sir! if
this goes on they will get a great deal too clever
for discipline, and what will become of the
service then?"