a long time), the head "lion" in Parisian
society. My adventure was dramatised by
three illustrious playmakers, but never saw
theatrical daylight; for the censorship forbade
the introduction on the stage of a correct copy
of the gambling-house bedstead.

Two good results were produced by my
adventure, which any censorship must have
approved. In the first place, it helped to
justify the Government in forthwith carrying
out their determination to put down all
gambling-houses; in the second place, it
cured me of ever again trying " Rouge et Noir"
as an amusement. The sight of a green cloth,
with packs of cards and heaps of money on it,
will henceforth be for ever associated in my
mind with the sight of a bed-canopy
descending to suffocate me, in the silence and
darkness of the night."

Just as Mr. Faulkner pronounced the last
words, he started in his chair, and assumed
a stiff, dignified position, in a great hurry.
"Bless my soul! " cried he—with a comic
look of astonishment and vexation—" while
I have been telling you what is the real secret
of my interest in the sketch you have so
kindly given to me, I have altogether
forgotten that I came here to sit for my portrait.
For the last hour, or more, I must have
been the worst model you ever had to paint
from!"

"On the contrary, you have been the best,"
said I. " I have been painting from your
expression; and, while telling your story, you
have unconsciously shown me the natural
expression I wanted."

THE THIRSTY BOYS OF BONN.

DUELS vary in blood-thirstiness; beer varies
in strength. Of the duels and beer-drinkings
of German students, many of us have been
taught to form an incorrect idea. Having
acquired some experience upon these matters
among the young gentlemen—now and then
rather old gentlemen—subject to the University
at Bonn, I desire that justice may be
done to that community.

The German student is, on the whole, a
person much maligned. You may judge from
his duelling pads, and from the bluntness of
his cutlasses—sharp only at the points—and
from the gay appearance of the principals and
seconds, that a duel is not in Germany a
mortal contest. The Bonner student is thirsty,
but not blood-thirsty. He submits to have
his face gashed for a point of honour—that
is all. He fights for the honour, not so much
of himself, as of his corps. He takes up the
sword as a cricketer takes up his bat, for the
support of club supremacy. For, be it understood,
that students of one corps will only
fight with students of another corps. As for
the " Kameel"—the corps-less, bodiless
nonentity—he is as much one of the external
accidents of life, which true philosophy is
bound to disregard, as a " philister" or
shopkeeper himself.

The face of the German student is the only
part of him uncovered in a duel. Let him
but have his cheek cut through, or a wing of
his nose sliced off, and. he assumes the scar-
born honours of a veteran. Let not young
ladies marvel at the reckless sacrifice of
beauty. There is not much manly beauty to
be spoilt in any German University; and,
least of all, if it be Prussian. But, pooh!—
that is a small consideration. The German
student is true-hearted and jovial.

Observe a party of " Guestphalen'' members
of the most noted corps at Bonn, bent on
pleasure, by the way of punch, after a morning
lecture. They embark upon a boat,
something like the gig of a Yorkshire collier,
furnished with a sail and a pair of sweeps
that would tire any London lighterman.
Down the stream they go—easily enough—
singing snatches of song from their " Commersbuch,"
relieving each other at the sweeps,
until they have reached their destination. If
they run the boat aground, two or three of
them will jump into the shallow water
instantly to shove her off. They land, and light
a fire; their punch is brewed; their sausage
and etceteras are cooked; and then the evening
is spent in drink and song. If, by chance,
there should be an English fly-fisher at hand,
he brings his trout, and quickly fraternises
with the company. Finally, all return into
the town to join the festive " Kneipe."

They return against the current, and in
that respect exceedingly against their
inclination. Boating is not popular at Bonn.

Before the town flows the rapid Rhine, its
grey and turbid stream inviting oarsmen; and
yet boating is rare, and what there is does
not deserve the name. The swift Rhine,
however, is not quite so safe as Thames water to
row upon, and it is hard work, too, to pull
against stream home to the festive " Kneipe."

The " Kneipe " of the Guestphalen is a large
square room well filled with tables. At the
extreme end of it, is hung over the chimney
the scutcheon of the corps— a piece of heraldry
which, for more complete identification, is
emblazoned with the words '' Guestphalen scis
panier" Two swords are crossed above the
emblem. Round the tables are the students,
in each stage of cheer. In their dress they
all resemble one another. They who can
raise them, wear a beard and a moustache.
Here, on one side, is a young fellow troubled
(O! no, not at all troubled) with a slash that
has multiplied his lips by two; he is
endeavouring to insert part of a hard-boiled egg
into his mouth, with the assistance of a silver
tooth-pick. The ligature still binds his wound,
and he can open his mouth but slightly.
Elsewhere, another, who is drinking, painfully,
debilitated beer from a glass twelve inches high,
wears the less recent marks of an encounter,
in which his nose was very nearly severed
from his face. A third has a bloated appearance,