townswoman, Miss B—t M—n. The dashing
lover sat, we believe, on the coach-box, where
the flame of his affection, though unprotected
by a great-coat, was not extinguished by a
heavy storm of rain. Arrived at Canterbury,
he was about to hand the object of his choice
into the Corcoran's Arms, when it suddenly
collapsed." (Did the fool mean that the
hotel collapsed?) "The disappointed gentleman
was heard to recite to the gown these
lines, which, we believe, form part of a poem
composed by himself:

          "To be is not to be. What is to have
           But not to have? A hollow mockery
           Is man's best prize. O void,
           That never will be filled, O vacancy,
           Come let me marry thee."

There was more; but I read no more.
After all, it was only then that I at last
understood completely Biddy Milcan's case.
Her father was in the secret. The whole
town was in the secret. I and my philosophy
were mocked. My very name had, for the
first time suffered that malicious abbreviation
of which I have since heard so much. The
boys would be crying at my heels "Bad
Spec!" I determined to quit Rochester.

It was in this way that I first became a
traveller, and I have been upon my travels
ever since. They have not enriched me.
My Uncle Badham omitted my name from
his will. My father died, having forgotten
me; and my mother afterwards died
blessing me, while I was still abroad. My
brothers behaved to me according to my
circumstances. Sometimes a speculation
made me rich. Then I had letters from
them signed Affectionately Mine. Soon
afterwards perhaps I was a beggar, and
affectionately theirs to no good purpose. In
Germany I throve for a short time by
publishing a perfectly new system of metaphysics,
which I caused to be translated from my
manuscript by a gentleman who, as I found
afterwards, had an exceedingly imperfect
acquaintance with the English language.
The book was, on that account, made perhaps
more incomprehensible than I should have
desired; but it achieved a vast success, and
was translated into English. By this means
I discovered how extremely ill my German
friend had done his work; because my book,
when translated into English, was a
continuous boggle and confusion of my meaning.
I never put my own name to it, and I never
will; although it is, to this day, a text-book
among many students of metaphysics, both
in Germany and in England.

As a speculator, I have made some good
hits in America; though I have met with too
many disasters. I did mean to mention some
of the catastrophes I have survived; but I
will content myself with naming one idea,
that was designed to bring about a terrible
catastrophe elsewhere. Grievously insulted
by Miss Milcan and her father, I long
brooded on a terrible revenge. At last, the
method of it dawned upon me. If I could
supersede the necessity of cow-keeping—crush
Milcan with the milk-trade of the country!
What was more easy? The idea was
suggested to me by a trifling circumstance. A
trifling circumstance it generally is by which
great thoughts are suggested. I was English
teacher at a school in Germany, and had been
explaining something to an English boy, who,
when I had done, said impudently, "That
accounts for the milk in cocoa-nuts."

Millions of cocoa-nut trees in all parts of
the globe are yielding seas of milk, and no
account has yet been rendered of the precious
offering. At once I planned a Cocoa-Nut
Milk Churning Company. Although it is
now too late to ruin Milcan, it is not too
late for somebody else to make his fortune.
Let him take good offices in the city, raise
in shares a capital of two millions sterling;
with which send out churns and cocoa-nut-
crackers to the chief cocoa-nut districts,
Labrador, Vancouver's Island, or wherever they
may be. Let nuts be obtained by the usual
method—throwing stones at monkeys; if
necessary, it would be easy to send out
pebbles. You see the rest at once. Crack
nuts, and pour milk into shallow pans. In
due time, skim; churn some of the cream;
of which make cheeses, clotting the rest,
according to the well known Devonshire
process. Bring home the results in tins,
with a sufficient quantity of pure milk
in unbroken shells, to be supplied every
morning fresh from the nut to the entire
population. In support of my scheme, I
have collected many facts upon the state of
the milk now supplied to the metropolis,
much of which comes from consumptive cows.
Now has ever anybody heard of a consumptive
cocoa-nut?

FLY LEAVES.

I HAVE just been pondering over that
passage in Roman history which seems to clench
the enormity of Nero's character by informing
us that the imperial monster amused himself
with killing flies. We shudder as we read,
and feel in truth that he who could amuse
himself with killing flies was fully capable of
despatching the mother that bore him.

But the circumstances under which we
ponder over any piece of information may
make a vast difference in our estimate of the
said piece of information—especially if it come
to us through that doubtful and convertible
medium which we call historic lore.
According as we are sick, in love, and have not
dined, or as we are stout, heart-whole, and in
that replenished mood which Shakespeare
says inclines great men to grant favours—I
mean full of a good dinner (barring indigestion)
—according, I say, as we are thus
depressed or cheered, we are apt to look upon
the dark or bright side of things, to go even
beyond the gloomy decisions of the historian,