uncovered by water, and dry ground tilled by
the spade and the plough. In all these sites,
except the latter, the white water-lily is abundant.
In the pools, it sends up long leaf and
flower stalks; in the shallower places, proportionally
shorter ones; on the muddy patches,
with no water over them, it assumes the
habit of a herbaceous plant, which only requires
judicious treatment to make magnificent
"bedding stuff." Here is a fish out of water
worth catching, and it will be strange if somebody
do not take the hint, Our gardeners are
perfectly competent to carry it out.

BUSILY ENGAGED.

"IT must be done, Dick, my boy," said my
uncle, mournfully, as he filled his glass, and
pushed the claret to me. "Come, now, make
up your mind; off with you to-morrow, and
success attend you."

"My dear uncle, once more let me—-"

"My dear nephew, you have done it so often
that repetition is useless. I am not a harsh
relative, or I should simply say, 'Dick, go and
be married;' or, as my theatrical prototype—-
especially if wealthy—-was wont to express himself
' Don't talk to me, young sir. Off, puppy,
and be married, or never see my face again.'
No, my dear Dick, I belong to a race of civilised
uncles, and I confine myself to a line of argument
which ought to weigh more with you than
any commands of mine. It was the desire of
your good father that you should marry before
you were twenty-six."

"But I am not twenty-six, and—--"

"You will be in a month," returned my uncle,
with wonderful recollection. "Why, there's
not a day to lose."

"Well, but, my dear sir-—" I began, with
some consternation.

"I'll cut this matter short," said my uncle.
"You remember what the great Duke said to
that other strong-handed veteran—-when India
was in sore need—-' You or I.'"

"Perfectly. By-the-by, now, what do you
think, sir, would have been the result, supposing
Napier——"

" We will pursue that branch of the subject
on a future occasion," said Sir Richard, dryly.
"In the mean time, go where love, if not glory,
waits you, together with, I should imagine,
about eight thousand pounds."

"It appears, then, that my wife is already
found."

"Found, yes. Selected, no," said my uncle.

"There is more than one candidate for my
affections?"

"There are—-let me see," said my uncle,
calculating, " nine."

"Nine?"

"My old friend and college-chum, Bob Crowdie,"
said Sir Richard Purkiss, " has nine
daughters. One—-a sweet, charming girl—-is
unhappily deformed. Out of the remainder,
Crowdie is anxious—-and so am I—-that you
should select the partner of your life, and, my
dear boy, since I have never known you express
anything but an indifference, almost amounting
to contempt, for the entire sex, I trust you will
the more readily fall into our views."

"I know so little of these good
people——"

"Don't call them 'good people,' sir, as if
they were fishwives," said my uncle, a little
warmly. "If you don't know them better, the
fault's your own. They like you, Dick. Come,
I may say that—-and—-and—-I fear I am telling
tales; but I am by no means sure that you
have not (unintentionally, of course) somewhat
compromised the peace of mind of Miss—-of one
of them, already."

"I am glad it's only one," I said, laughing.
"But are you serious? If so, you should at
least tell me frankly to which of these young
ladies you refer."

"There, you must excuse me. That I cannot
do," said my uncle, mysteriously. " No.
Were I to indicate Miss Crowdie, I might be
doing an injustice to Miss Sophia, or, by pointing,
however indirectly, to Miss Lucy, I might
divert your ideas from my pretty Mattie, whose
claim, without prejudice to Ethel, might only
be exceeded by my little Laura Jane. In
short——"

"Enough. Let the doubt remain. It gives
a mysterious charm to the expedition. But
there is still a difficulty."

"I see none," said my uncle, impatiently.

"Supposing, among so many, I should find it
impossible to make my selection?"

"Oh, is that all?" said Sir Richard, much
relieved. "I think that obstacle might be easily
overcome. Let Crowdie choose. He is the
best judge of his own children. Yes; I am
clear you could not do better than refer it
entirely to him. And I think I can promise
you, Dick," added my uncle, cheerfully, " that
he has already made up his mind."

"I am sure he is very kind," said I. "But,
uncle, to-morrow?"

"As I have already observed," returned Sir
Richard, "you or I. My brother's earnest
desire was that there should be a direct heir in
our family, and he named twenty-six as the
latest age to which he could wish your marriage
deferred. You have neglected to make your
choice, and hang me if I think you ever will.
Now, mark me, if you don't, I shall. I am told
men do marry at sixty—-generally some chit of
eighteen—-and I know a pretty little thing of the
sort (she's at school, not a hundred miles hence),
whom, as your aunt, you could not fail to revere.
As for my testamentary intentions, Dick, I have
never made a mystery of them. You are my
heir. But, if I marry, my wife and my children
will take away the bulk of the fortune I would
fain have had descend upon you. Come, Dick,
set me free from this responsibility.  Go and
visit these good friends to-morrow, and let your
first letter announce to me that your are
engaged.

The kind old man extended his hand. I