in two words. This person undertook, for the
sum named, to supply me with a piece of
Flemish tapestry—comprising several figures,
well designed—one, especially, being as
handsome—as engaging—as—whom shall I say?—
as M. le Président! Instead of that, he delivers
me a work displaying a group of creatures of
almost diabolical hideousness—the principal an
exact portrait of himself!"

That plaintiff was nonsuited.

There is no safe reliance upon the discretion
of our "inner witness." He will blurt out the
truth at the most unseasonable times.

Bertrand Solas, a wealthy Spaniard resident
at Naples, was accustomed to "take his walks
abroad" clad in very gorgeous apparel. On
one of these occasions he was run against by a
porter, carrying a huge bundle of firewood, a
portion of which caught and tore his silken
robe. In a furious rage, he carried his
complaint to the viceroy himself. The latter
knew that it was the invariable custom with
porters to call out to any approaching passenger,
"Gare!" Anglicè, "By your leave!" and
inquired if he had given the usual warning?
Solas replied in the negative. "Then I will
punish him severely," said the viceroy.

The porter was apprehended, but was warned,
by the viceroy's orders, that, whatever questions
might be addressed to him, he was to remain
perfectly mute. The case was then heard—the
prisoner only responding by signs. "What
penalty," asked the judge, turning to Solas, "can I
possibly inflict on this wretched dumb fellow?"

"He is trifling with your excellency," said
the hot Spaniard. "He is no more dumb than
I am. I heard him shout out 'Gare!'"

"Ah—you did? Then why didn't you take
his warning? You will pay him ten crowns
for his loss of time."

Can a child have two fathers? An act of
the Paris parliament has decreed that it can!

A French officer of good family, Monsieur
Navré, passing through Provence, fell violently
in love with a beautiful young lady, at whose
mother's house he paid a brief visit. On his
return, some weeks afterwards, he made his
proposals, was accepted, and, the marriage being in
due course celebrated, the couple commenced
their domestic career with the prospect of a
happiness, too soon interrupted by the outbreak
of war. Monsieur Navré rejoined his regiment,
and, at the battle of Saragossa, where he fought
like a paladin of old, was left stretched among
heaps of dead.

Ill news, which travels apace, was not long in
informing Madame Navré that she was a widow.
Mourning became her well, and the spectacle
of so much loveliness in tears proved too much
for a gallant young officer, Captain Pigache,
who, with national impetuosity, laid siege to
the beautiful fortress without delay. Within a
twelvemonth it capitulated. But a certificate
of her late husband's death was required before
the second espousals could take place. This was
unhesitatingly supplied by the officers of Navré's
regiment, and the ceremony was performed.

On the. day succeeding this event, the young
couple (it was not then the fashion to take
refuge in obscure country corners) gave a grand
fancy ball. Among the guests, appeared an
individual of stately presence, but wearing the
habit of a Provençal peasant: who made
himself noticeable in the gay throng by his bold
and lively bearing, and evident intimate
acquaintance with most of those present. He was
masked, however, and concealed his incognito
to perfection. He danced—danced superbly—
with the bride. With the bluntness of his
assumed character, he did not scruple to jest with
the bridegroom on his short but successful suit,
or with the lady on the charming facility with
which she had yielded thereto; and so ingenious
were his sallies, that the laugh of his wit-loving
countrymen was invariably on his side.

Late at night, the Provençal peasant
contrived to draw the bride's mother apart from
the crowd, and, unmasking, displayed the well-
remembered features of Navré! He told her
that, being found still breathing on the field of
Saragossa by a humane German officer, the
latter had him borne to his own quarters, where,
after months of suffering that perpetually
threatened death, he was at length restored to both
mental and bodily health. Monsieur Navré
concluded his little narrative with the
expression of his strong disinclination to create
any unnecessary disturbance. The matter was
simple enough. Here he was, ready to resume
the position and rights he had never vacated.
All that remained, was, to consult the feelings of
the unwidowed bride as much as might be.

That lady had fortunately a heart that
accommodated itself readily to any change of
circumstances. She received back her lost husband
with pleasure; upon the whole, indeed, she
preferred him to the other. That gentleman,
being summoned to the family council, and
made acquainted with the unexpected turn of
events, was disposed to be restive. In vain was
it pointed out to him that the law was likely
to entertain views dissimilar to his own, and that
opposition could only result in injury to his
feelings, which it was the intense desire of all
concerned to treat with the highest amount of
consideration consistent with his immediate
abdication of his usurped marital rights. The
gallant officer made an obstinate defence,
and was only overcome at last by a bon-mot
of his rival, so well timed, so happy, that,
despite himself, he was compelled to join in the
merriment it excited. After this, all went
smoothly. The very ball continued with even
greater spirit than before; for the news of what
had occurred, spread with lightning speed, and
gave point and zest to the general enjoyment.

Unhappily this was not the end. Whether
urged by some after-thought, or incited by ill
advice, cannot be known; but Pigache, on the
following day, meeting Navré in the public
street, commenced an altercation which
terminated in a duel on the spot. Both were
mortally wounded. Navré survived his antagonist
only three days.

Madame Navré, now really a widow, in due
time gave birth to a son. With this young