he be beaten. "Why the Celestial, who, in his
own country, has been weaned on a course of
bamboo, and has " eaten stick," as the Arabs
say, every day of his life, should so bitterly
resent corporal punishment at the hands of the
stranger, I am unable to explain. This,
however, is the fact.

For my part, I thought the Chinaman had
done very well to change his name from Kwang-
Lew-Fung to José Maria, and let his hair grow,
and sit on a high stool printing coloured labels.
Chromo-lithography is one of the prettiest
pursuits imaginable; and surely it was better to
follow it here in peace, and with something like
a hire for one's labour, than to be fishing for
ducks from a barge on the Canton river, or
painting miniatures on the coffin of your
grandmother, against that respected person's decease,
or addressing hieroglyphic compliments in Indian
ink to the gods of genteel morals. After all,
the alcalde is preferable to the local mandarin,
with his incessant bamboo.

We went to see the place where the coolie
workmen of the Honradez were lodged. The
dormitories were, for Cuba, wonderfully clean
and airy; under proper discipline, I was told,
the Chinaman could be made to observe
extraordinary neatness and propriety. The beds,
or bunks, were in tiers one above the other,
as in a passenger steamer; but were much
more spacious. Every coolie had his locker for
his clothes, and a shelf for his platter, pannikin,
and drinking-mug. Above every bunk was
printed the name of its occupant. I read
a most orthodox catalogue of José Marias,
Andres, Augustins, Basilios, Benitos, Beltrans,
Cristobals, Manuels, Eustaquios, Gils, Enriques,
Jacobos, Pepes, Jaymes, Juans, Domingos, Lazaros,
Mauricios, Pablos, Filipes, Rafaels, Estebans,
Tadcos, Tomases, Vicentes, and Guillermos.
There was one Esquilo, or Æschylus, and
one Napoleone, who—the last—was described
as the biggest rascal in the whole gang: the
which reminded me that names very seldom
suit their possessors, and that the only man I
ever knew who had been christened Virgil was
a most egregious donkey.

We were not allowed to leave La Honradez
without an " obsequy" or complimentary offering,
and, according to the etiquette of Spanish
politeness, this backshish was administered
in the most delicate and artful manner. We
were asked to sign our names and addresses
in the visitors' book, and then, on some
pretext or another, we were taken to a
remote apartment. Just as we were quitting
the establishment, and were thanking
the superintendent for the great kindness
and courtesy he had shown us, a coolie stepped
forward, and, with a low bow and an inimitable
smile, presented each of our party with a
packet of cigaritos, on whose labels, flourishing
in chromo-lithography, were our christian and
surnames, printed at full length. The operation
had been effected in about six minutes. It is
certain that they have a very nice way of doing
things in the West Indies and Mexico. Scarcely
a day passed without somebody giving me
something and I came back to New York with a
trunk-full of " obsequies."

COUSIN JANE.

WHEN my little cousin, Jane Lumley, came to
me one morning, and said in her blushing way:
"Cousin William, Mr. Forbes has proposed to me,
and I have accepted him," I felt that I must be
a very old cousin indeed, a very safe cousin as
girls would say, or she would never have chosen
me for a confidant.

I was pleased, and I was sorry, to hear the
tidings. I was pleased, because it was a very
good offer; and I was sorry, because Mr. Forbes
would take Jane away—selfish animal!—and
though I had never cared to marry her myself, I
thought it a hard case to see her marry another.
However, as pleasure had come first, so it was
the predominant feeling, and I shook hands with
Jane, and congratulated her on her good
fortune. For it was decidedly good fortune. Mr.
Forbes, though a widower, was not thirty; he
was good looking and accomplished; he was well
off too, and had a charming home within a
convenient distance of London; in short, he was a
most eligible husband for Jane, who had not a
farthing of her own, and who owed the very
clothes she wore, to my father's kindness. Not
that he thought it much kindness, dear old boy.
Jane was his pet, and I feel pretty sure that he
considered Mr. Forbes a very fortunate man in
having secured her. Of course, I thought so
too, for I knew Jane's value. Still, Mr. Forbes's
offer puzzled me.

Jane had come with her little story to me in
the garden; we were alone in one of the green
arbours. She stood in the shade, bareheaded,
modest, with a happy blush on her cheek, and a
soft dewy light in her brown eyes. I had never
seen her look half so well in her whole life as she
looked then and,—shall I say it?—Jane did not
look at all pretty! No, not at all. No one,
indeed, could call Jane ugly or even plain; but
there was an absence of beauty in her face, which
was the more remarkable that pretty girls
abounded in our county. She had a nice figure, a
graceful carriage, a pleasant voice, and a happy
look; that she had, and no more. She was also
a sensible girl, clever, well bred, and amiable,
though dreadfully shy with strangers; but how
could Mr. Forbes know anything of Jane save
her shyness? He had not seen her more than a
dozen times in all, and Jane was so quiet, that he
must be a very penetrating and far-seeing man
indeed if he had discovered her merits during
those brief interviews. I ventured on expressing
some surprise. " How sly you both have been,
Jenny," I said.

"No, William, not at all sly, I assure you,"
she replied, gravely. " I had no idea Mr. Forbes
thought of such a thing till he mentioned it the
other day."