taken alive, although they were sometimes
pursued and shot.

Not very long ago, a great number of
false bank-notes was put into circulation
within the dominions of the Czar. They
could only have been imported; but although
the strictest search was made habitually over
every vessel entering a Russian port, no
smuggling of false notes was discovered. So
strict is meant to be the scrutiny at Russian
custom-houses, that the ship-captain, who is
bound to give an inventory of every article on
board, may fall into unheard-of trouble if he
forget so much as his own private Canary-bird.
There was an English captain once at
Cronstadt who, by accident, forgot to enter a
fine turtle upon his list. He told the leading
custom-house official plainly and honestly of
his unfortunate omission, and the functionary,
who was a good-natured man, saw no plain
way out of the difficulty. He recommended
that the matter should be glossed over by
assuming that the turtle was intended for
the emperor. The captain did, therefore,
declare that, if he had not entered the turtle,
it was because it had been brought expressly
as an Englishman's gift to the Czar, and to
the Czar the turtle was despatched accordingly.
Soon afterwards there arrived a
government messenger inquiring for this
most courteous of captains, who brought the
gracious thanks of the Czar Nicholas, together
with the gift of a gold snuff-box, embellished
with the autocratic cipher set in
diamonds. Instead of fine and persecution
there were gifts and honours for this lucky
sailor. But when, afterwards, some other
trading captains, acting, as they imagined,
cunningly upon the hint, brought turtles to
exchange for snuff-boxes, his astute majesty
quietly made the turtles into soup, but declined
by any act of exchange to add snuff-boxes
to the articles of Russian trade shipped
at the port of Cronstadt.

Now to go back to the forged notes.
Accident brought also that mystery to light.
Several cases of lead-pencils arrived one day
from England, and were being examined,
when one of them fell out from a package, and
the custom-house officer picking it up, cut it
to a point, and used it to sign the order
which delivered up the cases, to the consignee.
He kept the one loose pencil for his
own use; and a few days afterwards, because
it needed a fresh point, cut it again, and
found that there was no more lead. Another
chip into the cedar brought him to a roll of
paper nested in a hollow place. This paper
was one of the false notes, engraved in London,
and thus passed into the dominions of
the Muscovite.

During the last epidemic fever which displayed
itself in this country as a rage for
antique furniture, much of this was imported
from the Netherlands. A shrewd Dutch
tradesman very much preferred an order for
sofas and chairs to an order for sideboards or
tables. Horsehair, he knew, was plentiful
enough in England; the duty upon tea, however,
was excessive; and by an arrangement
entered into with his English agent, it was
understood that tea should be used, instead
of hay or horsehair, as the stuffing of all
cushions attached to furniture transmitted by
his house. In this way there was a fortune
made.

NEW YEAR'S EVE.

LADEN with memories of tears and laughter;
Of sin and loving faith, and joy and woe;
Of warfare that shall live in fame hereafter;
Into the past the Old Year turns to go,
Looking upon the world with loving eyes,
Once more before he dies.

Then, a young warrior in armour mail'd,
The New Year, entereth the sleeping world,
And greets in awe his home with snow-robes veil'd;
While in his hand he holds his flag unfurl'd,
Whereon are writ the destinies of fate
That his long reign await.

Their eyes encounter, the old man's and the stranger's;
The meek New Year reveres the kingly form,
Austere, with myriad griefs and world felt dangers,
And owns that nobly he has pass'd the storm,
And sighs, "May it be granted unto me
To do great things like thee!"

But the Old Year, in sorrowful contrition,
Beholds the warrior's robe that bears no stain.
"Ah! that my countless sins could gain remission,
And I, as thee, be young and pure again."
In fervent agony the Old Year cries,
"Pray for my sins," and dies.

As his last breath ascends, the stillness breaking,
Glad Christmas-music, from a thousand bells,
Mingles two voices in their glad awaking;
One, pealing forth a myriad-parting knell
For the pale dead, — the other, loud and clear,
Greeting the new-born Year.

CLARET.

DOUBTS and difficulties have been raised as
to the origin of the popular word which
stands at the head of this article; but it is
possible to make a difficulty of anything—of
opening your lips and saying, "How do you
do?" In certain parts of Spain the greater
portion of the wines, and the best of it, is
red; it is a light, brilliant, crimson liquor,
spoken of as claro tinto, owing to the considerable
admixture of white grapes used.
This alone would be a sufficient etymological
hint; but in the French dictionary you will
find clairet to be claret wine, and eau
clairette to be cherry-brandy, both derived
from the adjective clair, light, bright, transparent;
thus, clair-brun means light brown.
Claret, in short, is a bright, light red, transparent
wine, and is readily distinguishable by
the vulgar eye from the black-strap of the
various London shades, and even from the
denser and stronger wines of the south of
France.

In this sense, Burgundy might often be