is arranged. One is choke-full of men's
hats, another of parasols, umbrellas, and sticks
of every possible description. One would
think that all the ladies' reticules on earth
were deposited in a third. How many little
smelling-bottles—how many little embroidered
pocket-handkerchiefs—how many little musty
eatables and comfortable drinkables—how
many little bills, important little notes, and
other very small secrets each may have
contained, we felt that we would not for the
world have ascertained; but when we gazed
at the enormous quantity of red cloaks, red
shawls, red tartan plaids, and red scarfs, piled
up in one corner, it was, we own, impossible
to help reflecting that surely English ladies
of all ages, who wear red cloaks, &c. , must in
some mysterious way or other be powerfully
affected by the whine of compressed air, by
the sudden ringing of a bell, by the sight of
their friends—in short, by the various conflicting
emotions that disturb the human heart
on arriving at the up-terminus of the Euston
Station; for else how, we gravely asked
ourselves, could we possibly account for the
extraordinary red heap before us? Of course
there were plenty of carpet-bags, gun-cases,
portmanteaus, writing-desks, books, bibles,
cigar-cases, &c.; but there were a few articles
that certainly we were not prepared to meet
with, and which but too clearly proved that
the extraordinary terminus-excitement which
had suddenly caused so many virtuous ladies
to elope from their red shawls—in short,
to be all of a sudden not only in a ' bustle '
behind, but all over—had equally affected men
of all sorts and conditions. One gentleman
had left behind him a pair of leather hunting-
breeches! another his boot-jack! A soldier
of the twenty-second Regiment had left his
knapsack containing his kit! Another soldier,
of the tenth, poor fellow, had left his scarlet
regimental coat! But what astonished us
above all was, that some honest Scotchman,
probably in the ecstasy of suddenly seeing
among the crowd the face of his faithful
Jeanie, had actually left behind him the best
portion of his bagpipes!

The trouble which is bestowed by the
Railway Companies to cause the restitution
of lost property is incalculable. Not long ago,
a young lady lost a portmanteau from the
rest of her luggage—a pardonable oversight,
for she was a bride starting on the honeymoon
trip. The bridegroom—never on such occasions
an accountable being—had not noticed
the misfortune. When the loss was discovered
and application made respecting it, the lady
spoke positively of having seen it at the
station whence they started, then again at a
station where they had to change carriages;
she saw it also when they left the railway:
it was all safe, she averred, at the hotel where
they stopped for a few days. She was also
certain that it was amongst the rest of the
"things " when they again started for a
watering-place; but, when they arrived there,
it was missing! It contained a new riding-
habit, value fifteen pounds. The search that
was instituted for this portmanteau recalled
that of Telemachus for Ulysses; the railway
officials sent one of their clerks with a carte
blanche, to trace the bride's journey to the end
of the last mile, till some tidings of the strayed
trunk could be traced. He went to every
station, to every coach-office in connexion with
every station, to every town, to every hotel, and
to every lodging that the happy couple had
visited. His expenses actually amounted to
fifteen pounds. He came back without success.
At length the treasure was found; but
where? At the bye station on another line,
whence the bride had started from home a
maiden. Yet she had positively declared,
without doubt, or reservation, that she had
"with her own eyes," seen the trunk on the
various stages of her tour; this can only be
accounted for by the peculiar flustration of
a young lady just plunged into the vortex of
matrimony. The husband paid the whole
of the costs.

In further illustration of the pains
taken to return missing property by the
railway company, we may revert to Sir
Francis Head, on the North-Western:—
A ledger, entitled "Luggage Inquiry Book,"
is kept, and if the articles therein inquired
after have not been brought in by the searcher,
copies of the description are forwarded to each
of the offices where lost luggage is kept; for by
the company's orders all luggage found between
Wolverton and London is without delay
forwarded to the latter station, all between
Wolverton and Birmingham to Birmingham, and
so on.  It is possible, however, that the above
orders may not have been attended to, and
therefore, as a last resource, the superintendent
of the Lost Luggage Office at Euston
Station writes to three hundred and ten
stations on forty-two lines of rail to inquire
after a lost article, be it ever so small, and if
it be at none of these stations, a letter is then
addressed to the owner, informing him that
his lost property "is not on the railway."

We are sorry to find that the public do not
always show themselves so conscientious as
the companies. They are, as carriers liable—
under certain circumstances—to make good
the losses of their customers; and in some
cases articles are no sooner missing than an
apparent eagerness to turn them into cash is
displayed. A demand for payment is sent.
The managers demur, and ask for particulars;
then arrives a long list of contents—value to
the highest possible amount is set upon every
describable thing, and after many pros and
cons, a settlement is generally made upon a
very reduced scale of charges. One such
demand was sent in the other day by an
elderly lady and her sister, who said they had
lost a box of apparel. They set the contents
down at thirty pounds prime cost. Upon the
eve of payment of a sum something approaching
to this demand, the box was recovered and