hold it in readiness to gallop off at a moment's warning, whilst he himself crept cautiously into the house, when he succeeded in locking both the doors and abstracting the keys. He then peeped round the corner, and beckoned to the urchin, who came with the utmost alacrity to receive his trinkgeld; but as soon as the kreutzers had changed pockets, their sentiments seemed no longer to accord. Dose apparently made some demand, to which the lad demurred. A sharp altercation followed, but was speedily brought to a close, by the lad's receiving a hearty lug of the ear, a kick upon the crupper, and such a thundering thwack upon his sconce, as must have set half a dozen tintinnabula going tinkle, tinkle, in his cerebellum. This was a species of logic which acted far more persuasively than all the rhetorical arguments in the world, and with a very thunderstricken look the youngster immediately led his horses towards our gun, Dose following in his rear, and propelling him by threats of the most terrible rib-roasting if he dared to raise an outcry, or make a disturbance of any kind. Of course we received the victor and his spoil with a hearty. jubilation; and, after relieving the gaping urchin of his animals, we mounted in a trice and spurred away, leaving him to settle the matter with their riders as best he might. It appeared, however, that he could not muster courage enough to face the storm that would inevitably burst upon his head if he showed himself before the officers minus their chargers, for after scratching his shaggy poll for a moment, the young sinner gave vent to his astonishment in a hearty Westphalian curse, and then scampered away into the forest with as much speed as his locomotives would allow. very That After proceeding a short distance down the lane we slackened our pace, and Dose unfolded to us the design which he had concocted, and by the execution of which he expected to win unfading laurels; the only drawback to his felicity being that we were not engaged upon actual service, as then he could not fail to obtain a decoration at the least. I may as well remark, by the way, that next to his longings for literary fame, Sergeant Feodor's highest aspirations were for a decoration. Often, during a confidential tête-à-tête with myself, he would pin a paper cross to his breast, and exclaim in his sublimest style, "Ah, Gott! such an order! Would not every one ask, 'Pray, who is that interesting and tolerably tall man there, with the brilliant star upon his breast?' -oh, that is Sergeant Dose.' 'Ah! indeed-the celebrated Dose!'" But to return to our subject. The notable design which our gallant sergeant had succeeded in extricating from the general imbroglio in his brain, was this:-We were to lie in ambush near that point where our lane opened upon the heath, and watching an opportunity, to rush out upon the unguarded flank of the enemy, who could not fail to be put to immediate flight by such an unexpected eruption. After this bold hourrah, which he considered would have done honour to old Marshal Vorwarts himself, as his previous manœuvres might have redounded to the credit of Gneisenau, we were to gallop up to Von Teschchenschech and surrender into his hands, as trophies of our prowess, the captured horses, together with the keys of the Schenke, where these riders were safely entrapped. This time fortune did smile upon our hero, and crowned his efforts with the happiest success. Our onset upon the schakos happened most opportunely. They were just preparing to charge down upon our guns, when their attention was arrested by a couple of shots coming in quick succession from the wood, close upon their flank; and their astonishment was immediately afterwards completed, by seeing several horsemen debouching from the wood in single file, and dashing resolutely towards them. They did not stay to count our numbers, but naturally concluding that they had fallen into some well-concealed ambush, they were compelled to acknowledge, by an instant retreat, that they had been outgeneraled, and consequently, wheeling aside, they gave us the opportunity of dashing past them and rejoining our applauding comrades. We were no sooner within their ranks than Dose made straight for Von Teschchenschech, who also advanced towards us, to ascertain the cause of our unexpected appearance. Our gun was soon surrounded by a group of inquisitive officers. By the manner in which they scrutinised our captured steeds, and from the tone of their remarks, I began to entertain apprehensions as to the final result of our sergeant's exploit. "Hollo! why that is young Gulpstutter's mare;" and, "By the holy coat, that bay belongs to my cousin in the Uhlans. What the devil has this thief got to do with it ?" Such were some of the ominous exclamations that caught my ear at first; but when Dose had made his official report, which he did with a conciseness that was really wonderful for him, the choler of these touchy juniors was immensely aggravated by his presumption, and they would fain have persuaded the colonel that his conduct was irregular and highly reprehensible, in venturing to take such liberties with his superior officers. But here they were reckoning without their host. Von Teschchenschech was, fortunately, in a capital humour; and he never neglected an opportunity of taking down those arrogant younglings, who gave themselves aristocratic airs, which were so utterly repugnant to his blunt and homely style. He received Dose's recital with loud guffaws, and many interjections of delight; and when their High-mightinesses, the subalterns, began to express an opinion about the necessity of an arrest and courtmartial, he immediately rejoined, with a most provoking grin, "Oho! Mr. Ensigns, that is your opinion, is it? Well now, I think differently. Sergeant Dose, I consider that you have acted both wisely and well-I shall take care to bear conduct in mind. your To capture these officers, and to make a regiment of cavalry retreat before your small force, are certainly great and important services, which reflect the highest credit upon yourself and your men. The officers may remain where they are till the action is over, and they will then be permitted to ransom themselves and their chargers out of your hands." This eulogium, which, considering whom it came from, might be styled magnificent, of course sent our excitable sergeant into a state of poetical exhilaration that was quite alarming; while the Messrs. Ensigns, abashed at their rebuff, endeavoured to assume an air of the most contemptuous nonchalance for all that might come from such a "low-bred" fellow as Von Teschchenschech, but gradually sidled away, no doubt wishing that "old fool of a colonel" in a warmer situation than any that could be found in his Prussian Majesty's dominions. ON THE UNKNOWN SHIPS (SUPPOSED TO BE SIR J. FRANKLIN'S) SEEN DRIFTING ON AN ICEBERG, APRIL, 1851. BY MRS. ACTON TINDAL. On the far horizon the ice-fleet rides, With the rainbow's hue, as the morning glides O'er the drifts of glittering white. From the frozen waves of the Arctic Seas, From the solitudes of snow, With the blasting strength of the north-east breeze, They were rent away by the wild spring-tide, From the hoary mountain's cracking side, No sound is heard but the sea-bird's wail, But darkly rises a towering mast O'er the iceberg's spectral pride; Those gallant ships, they are anchor'd fast No living soul treads the wind-bleached decks, By their captors dumb they are borne along; But their bonds melt day by day; For the wind blows warm, and the sun shines strong, To the glowing seas of the south they pass, But where are the souls that they bore, alas! Oh! ask the stars, and the winds, and waves- And the sparkling deeps of the lone ice-caves, THE FETE OF THE EAGLES. A SMART Parisian once indited a history of his "Voyage par mer à St. Cloud et retour par terre," but what were the perils run and the experiences obtained as compared with an "Excursionist's" journey to Paris and back? He finds to his infinite dismay that the motions of a tidal steamer are quite different to those of the excursion train. No sooner out of the harbour, constructed of immense-sized lapides populi, whence the name of the place, according to a classical author, than he sees red faces growing pale, and pale faces turning green and yellow. Observations of any kind are indeed only heard at intervals like signals of distress. Öne tells of a bank off Cape Grinez, where the sea is always much worse; another asserts that ever since the electric telegraph has been laid down, the sea has been liable to sudden upliftings, like the eruptions of Geyser. So anxious is the excursionist for terra firma, that, arrived alongside the quay of Boulogne, he would fain pull himself up by the pointed beard of a custom-house official. Nor are his trials even then over, for all the Boulonnais, young and old, are assembled and roped off, to grin at his discomfiture. There was an hour for dinner, and the excursionists divided their favours between the numerous hotels and the refreshment-rooms at the station. The more timid repaired to the latter. A party of four stopped at the Hotel Folkestone. One of joyous, hilarious temperament, was an embryo M.P., a candidate for a borough as yet unenfranchised; the second, named Fitzjones, came from Acton, was a connoisseur and dilettante, and if Coleridge is right in saying that it is the peculiarity of genius to retain boyish feelings through life-was also a great genius; a third was a military man, with whose constitution French brandy appeared to agree much better than French wines; the fourth and last was an unfledged scribbler, of whom the less said the better. The train should have arrived at Paris at 10.40 P.M., but some of the excursionists, or their jokes, were so heavy, that it was half-past eleven before the old enclos de St. Lazare, whereupon the station du Nord has arisen in modern times, was gained; nor was this precisely the end of a long day's journey. Carpet bags were passed without examination, and a citadine soon procured, and off the excursionists went to the Hôtel de Tours, Place de la Bourse. The Hôtel de Tours was full to everflowing, some being on the roof. "Never mind," said the man of the pen, who plumed himself upon his intimacy with the capital of the civilised world, "A l'Hôtel de Lyons, cocher!" The Hôtel de Lyons was reached in a few minutes. Knock knock! door opens with a spring. Walk to the Concierge. No beds. "Where is M. Merimée ?" "M. Merimée does not live here." "Ah, it's a mistake." There is hope yet. It is the Grand Hôtel de Lyons; away, then, to another street with a long name- -Rue des Filles St. Thomas. M. Merimée est desolé. There are no beds; in proof of which, he points significantly to his own shake-down beneath the Porte Cochère. Well, there is the Hôtel d'Angleterre, almost next door. The same thing over again. The matter began to assume a serious aspect. The Bourse was passed, before and behind, one side and another, in search of an hotel, till the front and rear became confused, and all correct sense of locality lost. Strange thoughts of sleeping in the citadine began to creep upon the excursionist minds. At this conjuncture, a man stopped the carriage to inquire how much would be given for beds. The M.P.-tobe had read somewhere of a man let down, bed and all, to be robbed, and the stranger applicant was dismissed with an unanimous shudder. At length a report was spread, about two o'clock in the morning, that there were beds at No. 300, and something odd, Rue St. Honoré. Once again too late; but there was under the Porte Cochère a young lady with an unusual display of white roses, who had two beds to dispose of. It was only a few doors off. Thither accordingly they hastened; but here, again, another Englishman had arrived just two minutes before, and taken one of the beds for himself and wife. Only one remained, and it was given up to Fitzjones, as having shown the first symptoms of despair. There was still a chance, it was said, in the Rue Monthabor. There, as in the Rue St. Honoré, an hôtel garni had been taken on speculation, and the entrepreneur appeared on the threshold of the door in propriâ personâ, red beard and moustache included, to dictate terms. Forty francs for a bed for eight days. The law, the house not being an hotel, did not permit him to let it for less time. The circumstances of the case, and not his conscience, he insisted, did not permit him to take less money. He would allow us half an hour to decide. This was at a quarter past two, A.M.! Well, the beds might as well be seen. The M.P. in posse was ushered to a shake-down in a picture-gallery, imperfectly secreted from curious eyes by an apron stretched between the wall and a screen. author's bed was appropriately enough in the attic, with a skylight, which was the rendezvous of all the cats of the neighbourhood. The The sun broke in unwonted splendour upon the morning of that spectacle which had been trumpeted far and wide as a revival of the glorious fetes that have given to the Champ de Mars an historical renown. On the same field, Napoleon le Grand distributed the eagles that waved the year after over Austerlitz. Where will the eagles distributed by Louis Napoleon wave a year hence? Over the prostrate freedom of a people? Over a yoke imposed by brute force upon some less powerful nation? Over the bier of a prince-president? The distribution of eagles has not been always ominous of success. The Champ de Mai, presided over by the emperor, by a cardinal, two archbishops, and a crowd of prelates, and attended by electors, army, and national guard, was a failure-a pièce manquée. All France deems the Fête des Aigles of 1852 to be the same. How soon also was the restoration of the eagles followed by a sanguinary and a decisive battle? The very fêtes, apart from distributions of eagles, of the Champ de Mars, in a city so inconstant and so turbulent as Paris has been from remotest times, have been either frivolous or licentious, or ominous of disaster. One year after Louis XVI. met there the delegates of France, the assembly, and the national guard, and with them took the oath of the constitution, which was sanctified by mass said by the young prelate of Autun, Talleyrand de Perigord, two hostile bands met in the same field, blood was shed, and the red flag was dragged through the dust and mire. On the 22nd of May, 1848, crowds assembled in the Champ de Mars to celebrate "the Feast of Concord." They rent the very heavens with shouts of "Vive la République !" "Vive l'Assemblée Nationale!" They |