into a vast hall containing two-and-forty
colossal vats, ranged in double row, so massive
and towering, that they make you feel
as if you had entered some old Egyptian
cave, and with an iron tramway running
between them, on whose rails glides a
tremendous tub for mixing or making the coupe,
as an easy way of fetching samples from the
different reservoirs of eau-de-vie. When I
was there, four men were hard at work
agitating the contents of this moveable
vat by means of a central paddle-wheel
whose handles were bent at right angles
downward, round from the top of the tub, in order
to reach the level of ordinary humanity. But,
besides mixing by force of arms, there is
machinery which is kept acting by quadruped
strength; so that it maybe correctly stated that
it requires a two-horse power to make a single
glass of brandy. The very same mill works
a set of pumps; the horses, therefore, are
able to produce either simple water the
aqua pura of learned apothecaries—or water-
of-life-and-death, at will. Robert Houdin
himself cannot do much more.

Good brandy is not cheap, even at Cognac.
My landlady strongly urged me to carry off a
bottle from her stores, at the cost of seven
francs, to give a taste of the genuine article to
my friends at home. But I replied that I had
so long a journey before me, that the bottle
would probably get cracked on the road, and the
seven francs be consequently spilt, like water.
So I contented myself with sticking in my
buttonhole a sprig of evergreen from the
pleasant Parc, as a material token whereby
to remember ac-land.

Cognac has a future before it, to which it
may look with complacency. One of these
days it will have a railway, connecting Angoulême
with Rochefort and La Rochelle;
and will then get gas, which, in the interior of
France follows the iron road, and is only to
be found along its lines. Cognac will then
be glad to receive coals and many other
things besides, from England; especially
if England could, in her wisdom, spare her
own grain from distillation and devote it to
feeding man and beast, by diminishing the
duties on foreign spirit. Between England
and Cognac there is a friendly feeling, which
is not likely to be the less permanent because
it rests on the foundation of the pocket. The
brandy -merchants of this generous little town
sent as a present to the English army
in the Crimea one thousand pounds'
sterling worth of good brandy, to keep the
cold out of our poor soldiers' stomachs.
If I were one of the Roebuck Committee,
I would try and find out whether it ever
reached them, how they liked it, and
whether they knew where it came from ?
A friend's good deeds ought not to be hid
under a bushel. But between England and
Cognac there is more than friendly
intercourse: there are matrimonial alliances. A
gentleman whose ample fortune has some
connection with puncheons of brandy, has
espoused a lady whose handsome dowry is
not entirely alien to pots of porter. It is
possible even, that the example may spread; for,
at, and after the Paris Exposition, Cognac
will offer hospitable reception to not a few
English visitors. May their fêtes, dinners,
balls, and picnics, go off to perfection, without
a badly-cooked dish, an unbecoming
toilette, or an envious shower of rain! I
heartily drink them success (in wine) beforehand
and at a distance, in remembrance of
the civility I met with in the land of
spirits.

MOTHER AND STEP-MOTHER.

IN FOURTEEN CHAPTERS.—CHAPTER VI.

"MOTHER," cried Edward Irwin, now a
fine boy of fourteen, "why does every one
think so much more of Frank than of me?"

" He is the heir, and is just come of age,
and when the heir comes of age there is
always great rejoicing."

"It must be a fine thing to be the heir!"
exclaimed Edward, after a pause, fixing his
eyes thoughtfully on his mother's face.

" Why do you think so?" inquired she.

" Why? What a question! Why, the
world is before you to be sure; you can do
exactly what you please, and everybody
thinks you a fine fellow."

" It is better to make a fortune than barely
to inherit one."

" O yes, of course; but that takes such a
time. Just fancy, mother, how splendid it
must be for Frank. Every one says how
handsome he is, and every one admires his
cleveness and his riding, and everything he does.
Now I'm every bit as handsome and as clever
for my age, and father says Frank couldn't
have ridden Mad Tom before he went to
Rugby; yet nobody takes the trouble to find
out my perfections."

" Would you rather have been your father's;
heir than my son?"  As Lady Irwin asked
the boy the question, her cheek flushed, and
her brow, to which a slight frown had become
habitual, darkened.

" Why, no, mother, I don't mean that. I'd
rather have my own stately mother, for all
her fierce looks and angry words, than the
pretty pale lady in the picture; but suppose
there had been no Lady Irwin before you,
I'm sure you're wife enough for one man any
day."

"I should never have known your father if
he hadn't come to Florence when he was in
sorrow for the loss of Frank's mother."

" Which proves, I suppose, that it didn't
please the Fates that I should be an eldest
son. I always thought them a stupid set
of spinsters. Don't you know any ricketty
old Earl or Duke who might be coaxed
into adopting me?"

" Do not talk so foolishly, Edward,"
returned his mother, with displeasure, " learn