so rough, woman! Good God, she's the
tenderest little creature! Ah, Corda, naughty
wicked Corda, you have been walking too far;
overtaxing your strength. My darling pet, it's
not your fault. It's that infernal fool of an old
man. Why did I let you go with him? I'll
get her some wine. There is some of Alfred's
down-stairs. Don't stir from her, woman, until
I come back. Corda, Corda, my pretty one!
My little gentle darling!"

The child was conscious, and tried to smile
and thank him. When the servant began to
undress her, she put her hand into her breast,
drew it out fast clenched, and kept it so. They
made her swallow some wine, and she lay very
still and submissive in the bed. "Go and write
your note, papa," she said. "l am quite well
now. I will be very still, but I should like to
be quite by myself, please."

"No, no; Mary must stay with you."

"Please not, dear papa! I shall not want
anything."

He remonstrated, but she begged so hard, that
he had not the heart to refuse her. He could
never be obdurate to Corda's pleadings.

"Go to sleep, my little lamb. That will be
best for you. Go to sleep."

In the course of an hour or so he came up
again, listened at the door, and then softly
entered and looked at her. She seemed to be
peacefully asleep. But the moment after he
had left the room, her large hazel eyes were
unclosed, and her pale lips formed inaudibly
the reiterated sentence: "What shall I do?
What shall I do?" over and over again for
hours.

FROM BREMEN TO NEW YORK.

OF the many British subjects who go to New
York, very few travel in the steamers that
start from Bremen and touch at Southampton.
The usual route, as every one knows, is from
Liverpool; but the Bremen steamers present
a scene so unique, that the voyager who has
frequent occasion to visit America would do
well now and then to choose the less ordinary
passage.

Bremen is the port from which emigrants
are chiefly taken from Germany to New York,
where they are consigned to a commission of
emigration, who sends them to their place of
destination in one of the western states,
Wisconsin being at present frequently selected
as a field for enterprise. Many, however, stop
at Chicago, in Illinois, which, as the great depôt
for agricultural produce, may now be regarded
as internally the capital of the whole western
division of the United States. Here the
Germans constitute a large proportion of the
population. Even in New York city itself the
German element so strongly prevails, that at nearly
every store a smattering of the language of
fatherland, sufficient for small commercial
purposes, has been acquired by the proprietor.
In the underground beer saloons, which
remind one of the old fading-out "shades" of
London, you will hear more German than
English; "lager-bier," which is the staple
commodity of the establishment, being pre-
eminently a German institution.

It may be observed, by way of parenthesis,
that a taste for lager-bier does not belong to
the aristocratic proclivities of New York. Even
at the humble oyster saloons this refreshing
beverage is not to be obtained, though the lover
of clams and oysters may be supplied to any
extent with a detestable beverage which, for
some unaccountable reason, is termed "ale."
The cosmopolitan traveller, who ignores all
prejudices save those of his own country and
only respects those when he is at home, should,
however, be warned that, to a beer-drinker, the
humble lager—which is drawn deliciously cold
—is the most grateful and refreshing drink
conceivable. Unfortunately for its dignity, it
bears a price which, though it would be deemed
high in London, is low in New York. A
glass costs five cents (say twopence-halfpenny),
whereas a less quantity of detestable ale is
sold at double the price. Hence the badness of
lager's character. The demand for it is great,
but the willingness to supply at places not
expressly organised for its consumption is small.
Ask at the bar of your hotel for lager, and, in
the midst of a paradise of ales and whiskies,
you will be told that it is not kept there, but
that you may find it in the restaurant below-
ground, which, in spite of its subterranean
condition, exactly performs the functions of an
English "tap." But do not flinch or feel
humiliated; plunge boldly into the vault, and
you will find the lager drawn cold from the
cask, and served in one of those German
glasses, narrow at the brim and broad at the
bottom, a beverage worthy of Olympus. Above
all things, avoid the before-mentioned ale,
whether it be called Philadelphian or Scotch.
Under the first name it is sour, under the
second disagreeably sweet and smoky.

The maxim, "Cheap and nasty," sound in
many cases, is sometimes sadly perverted. Many
an honest Briton is convinced at the bottom
of his heart that sprats are more relishing than
whitebait, but few honest Britons would venture
to express that conviction to any save their
most intimate friends.

The proverbial expression takes us back to
the Bremen steamer, which we have most
unceremoniously quitted. None of the citizens of
the United States are more highly respected
than the Germans, who are upheld as the type
of all that is industrious, loyal, and inoffensive.
The German is the model farmer, and to him
will the great republic be chiefly indebted for
the development of the lands in the Far West.
But the German, when he is going across the
Atlantic from Bremen to New York in the
character of an emigrant, and takes up his temporary
residence in the steerage, does not receive in
advance one instalment of that respect which he
may hope to acquire in the Western world.
Most of the ship's officers are German; the head-