Musselburgh Golf Club, where probably the question of ladies' golf -now getting such a popular ladies' game at some of our summer resorts-was first mooted. 'December 14, 1810. The club resolved to present, by subscription, a handsome new creel [fishbasket] and shawl to the best female golfer who plays on the annual occasion, on January 1 next, old style; to be intimated to the fish ladies by Wm. Robertson, the officer of the club. Two of the best Barcelona silk handkerchiefs to be added to the above premium of the creels.'

Life's Dawn.

FAIR Lady Patricia, sweet type of the spring,
The glamour of day-dawn is bright on your brow;
Your thoughts are as pure as the prayers which the birds sing:
God keep them, my rose-bud, for ever as now.

You're pleased with your splendour: remember, the rose
Charms more with its perfume than brightness of hue;
Its beauty is past when the wild winter wind blows,
Its sweetness remains, love, to charm us anew.

But young friends await you; be gay with the gay:
I speak not in chiding, but purely to warn,
For life's not all spring-time, we know wisest saws say,-
Prepare for life's night-time while yet it be morn.

The World Well Lost.

BY E. LYNN LINTON.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE PROUDEST MOMENT OF HIS LIFE.

THE evening on which so much depended arrived in its course; the curtain drew up and the ball which was the prologue of the play began. It was the most gorgeous affair of its kind that had ever been given in Grantley Bourne; and as Mr. Brown de Paumelle said with swelling satisfaction, when assuring each guest that this was the proudest moment of his life, no expense had been spared to make it go as it should.

The flowers alone represented a modest fortune; and the heart of the chandler who had the honour of the de Paumelle custom sat lightly on its throne by reason of the forest of wax-lights which illuminated the fact of Miss Jemima's majority. The refreshments were had direct from London; as indeed were all the appliances, including the band, and those pretty little artificial bowers which were set in corners and at the end of passages as suggestive retreats for devoted persons. The champagne was dry and the claret had the velvet on; and Mr. Brown de Paumelle was careful to tell the gentlemen when the time for refreshments came round how much each had cost per dozen; and that there was not a headache in a hogshead of either. He was careful too to tell them, each in a confidential manner-as if to him alone-how much the whole affair had cost; but that he grudged nothing, his motto being to do a thing handsome or leave it alone, and so long as they were satisfied—but he said 'satisfized '—so was he.

Partly for Lady Machell's sake, and partly for idle curiosity, all the great people of the county who had been invited came; and the fine names which rolled through the rooms were as pleasant to the ears of Mr. Brown de Paumelle, as was ever the smoke of incense to the nostrils of a god. He stood by the door of the first drawing-room, radiant, shining, ecstatic. He felt it truly, as he said it was, the proudest moment of his life; and he showed that he did. As name after name-some titles, some the names of the oldest families in the county-was shouted by the small army of footmen stationed at intervals from the hall to the drawing-room, till it finally came to the majestic groom of the

chambers himself, the face of the retired soap-boiler grew more and more rubicund, his manner more triumphant, his heart more elate.

arm.

He was a small stout man, with a tendency to grow warm, and an inveterate habit of holding those to whom he talked by the Ladies with short sleeves did not like it. His new black coat, evidently so new, shone in the light; his black satin waistcoat glistened, and his chain and rings and big diamond studs glittered and sparkled as he bowed and smirked, and rubbed his own hands with satisfaction after he had shaken those of his guests with effusion. In one thing only was he disobedient to the great goddess of form; he would not wear his white kid gloves, but kept them dangling in one hand or thrust into the bosom of his vest. He had once seen a young Frenchman do this; and the trick had taken his fancy, both as 'nobby,' according to his phraseology, and less troublesome to himself.

By his side stood his wife and daughter; pale where he was flushed; timid to his pride; shrinking, nervous, depressed, not self-confident, jovial, glad as he. Both were dressed in exquisite taste, so far as the mere style and material of their garments went: Lady Machell had taken care of that: but Mrs. Brown de Paumelle's dead-leaf and gold, and Jemima's white and silver, though made by Worth himself, looked more out of keeping with their meagre awkward persons than if they had been clothed according to their own ideas. These would have given them a 'full puce' for the mother, and a grass green' for the daughter, made by a local dressmaker after the most elaborate of the two figures in a fashion-book, and largely trimmed with modern point. Do what you would with them, you could not bring them up to the standard. Their heads were dressed according to the correctest canons of the art; they had not a faulty point about them; down to their very shoe-buckles and their glove-buttons, their get-up was perfect. And yet it wanted no magician to see, as they stood there, that they were mere clothes-horses decked to order-well decked if you will-but none other than clothes-horses, when all was done. They felt themselves to be shams and out of place, for all that they had said one to the other admiringly: La! ma, how splendid you look!' and, La! Jemmy, you are lovely, my dear!' and just as Mr. Brown showed the pride that was in his heart, so did they show the trouble and humility that were in theirs.

Mrs. Brown looked as if she had been newly taken from behind a counter where she served her customers in silence and with meekness, and said 'Thank you, ma'am,' as she handed back the change; while poor little Jemima, with her huge bouquet of