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dare was preety beeg scare 'roun' here. Yes-sir'ee de 'Fenyan Raid' be de only time dat ever wake h'up Pigeon Hill. De Fenyan, yous see, be a kind h'of H'Irishman who don't leev on der own contree 'ere hees belong, but spread 'imself 'roud de worl' an' mak' troub'el for h'all de udder peoples. Dare be good many dese fellers on Les Etat Unis who get it in 'is head dat Canadaw should be fre', an dese be de wan dat put Pigeon Hill hi'n a beeg fright."

Monsieur Louis Beaupre leveled the ashes which were bulging from his over-filled pipe with the head of a jack-knife and tilted his feet against a neighborly chair. "Dat be thirty-five year 'go come nex' Michaelmas, but I hiv' a remember h'of it so it was day after tomorrow. De firs' ting we know 'bout dese Fenyan was wan night w'en 'Crazy John' came ronne on de village an' say dat 'bout ten tousand mens was camp across de bord'. 'Crazy John' was wan ole man who pass 'is life in a leetle maison on de wood, an' hees pick berry an' h'eat woodchuck w'en hees be hongree. You laf w'en I say he h'eat woodchuck, but dat be de common ting wid de French peoples on Kebec. Let me tell it you. You shoot woodchuck tru' 'is 'ead so's not hurt is pelt, dan skin 'im, an' roas' 'im h'on de cole, an' 'By Gee, Lovely I jus' soon hav' roas' lamb as hav' 'im.

"Well 'Crazy John' tell a beeg story how dey was chase 'im in de wood so he lose 'is chapeau an' bot 'is bootes. By dese tam things get preety moch h'excite in de village, all de woman folks dey grab der h'of spring, an' tell de children follow dem to de attic. It was jus' lak it be long tam 'go w'en de Injun mak' 'is hello an' den come wid 'is tomatohawk. De mens of de home guard wat Cap'n Abe call h'out, dey all hav' wite face an' de young fellers shiv' lak it be a cole night, only 'twas ver' hot, 'bout ninety in de shade.

"De firs ting de home guard it do is to barricade de bridge w'ich come from de State over de reever. Den we put out de sentinal, dey be de guard wat kin watch on de home guard so

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h'it can't git kill w'en h'it sleep. I be wan dos fellers. I 'spose dey selec' me 'cause I don't shak' so moch as some h'of de udders. Joe Piquor, he be de pickeet dat kip watch wid me beside de bridge, we hav' pass-word for h'everybody, dat word h'it be 'Victoria,' an' w'en we hears somebody come de firs ting we do was cry h'in a beeg voice, 'Halt, who be comin',' and if dey say 'Amies' an' den w'isper 'Victoria' in our h'ears, we know it be frien's for sure an' dey go 'bout dare business. Well we kip h'it up all date night. In de morning dare was gone wan of de villagers, she be a preety girl who work in de tailor shop, an' h'ev'rybody dey say dat she be kidnap by de Fenyan. Den all de people was mad h'at Joe Piquor an' me, an' say dat we get some sleep in de night tam.

"Well two tree day pass lak dese an' nobody come trouble us. So we mak' h'it up our mind to sen' some scout to see how many Fenyan dare really be. 'Dis was preety risky ting for do, an' Joe an' me feel glad we be on de pickeet an' can't go. Well it was fonny story dem scout dey tell w'en dey come bac' from dare exposition on de State. We h'expec' see two, tree kill an' prob❜ly more wid' bullet hole in 'im, but it was ver' diff'rent, an' Cap'n Abe he was laf an' look kind of lak a leetle sheep w'en he tole how he go on 'is ole wite horse wid de scout an' fine jus' a few ragged h'Irishman wid no shoe on 'is feet an' some rusty ole gun; an' w'en he tole dem disperse in de nam' h'of de Queen an' call to 'is men lak dare be good many, de Fenyan was h'all dis'pear lak de leaf in de street w'en de sout' wind she blow. Dey all go h'excep' wan man who fall on 'is knee an' cry lak beeg babee. 'Is nam' it be O'Hara an' dey bring 'im back wid dem to show de villagers so dey be scat no more. O'Hara is leeve here since dat day, an' swip de court house for 'is leeving.

"Den tings come tranquille in de village agin only dare be lot h'of speak 'bout de girl who was kidnap 'til wan day shees come back an' den h'ev'rybody know she roons 'way wid Francois Nevue git married. So Joe an' me we hav' good laf an' de treat

on dem fellers who say dat we sleep dat night. Well dat be a good many year 'go an' it don't come h'on my mind h'excep' las' spring w'en de Governor General pass h'on dis place wid lot of beeg men an' brass ban' an' give 'way some medal to dem fellers who save Canadaw from de Fenyan. By Gosh, how dat 'Ole Home Guard' dey grow in tirty year, we was only feefty h'at firs, but w'en he giv' de medal an' mak' a beeg speech dey he deux hondert. An' O'Hara he get a medal, too! I h'expec' it was so long tam dat dey mos' forget he was a Fenyan," chuckled Louis, as he knocked the ashes from his pipe.

R. R., 'o!.

"A ROMANCE OF TWO WORLDS."

"Ah, what is love? It is a pretty thing,

As sweet unto a shepherd as a king;
And sweeter too:

For kings have cares that wait upon a crown,
And cares can make the sweetest love to frown.
Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires do gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain?"

ROBERT GREENE, "The Mourning Garment."

The little Bavarian Lake called Tergensee lay dimpling and sparkling in the early light of an August morning, and a delightfully cool breeze blew from the west, as a tall, stalwart young man, of the true Bavarian type, dragged a row-boat down the shore and launched it on the water. His fair skin was burned and tanned by many a trip in the open air, and he wore the leather breeches and gray mohair jacket with green bindings which, together with the rough green beaver and embroidered sash, form the distinctive dress of the peasant class. Not that he was a peasant; by no means, but he was going mountainclimbing, and found his present costume much more comfortable and convenient than the so-called "dress of civilization." Standing erect in the boat, he grasped an oar and was about to push off, when there was a cry of "Wait! Wait!" in broken German, and down the bank came running a young girl making eager gesticulations, followed by another, apparently some years older. "Didn't you see us coming, ferryman?" demanded the younger, in a manner evidently imperious in spite of her difficulty in pronouncing the long German syllables, "we wish to go across"; and she held out a small hand for the "ferryman" to help her aboard. There was no other boatman in sight, and so the young Bavarian accepted the situation, and after assisting the masterful

young lady and her companion into the boat, pushed off, and plied the oars in silence with a strong, steady stroke.

The little lady glanced constantly at him from under her black lashes, and presently said in French, and with a mischievous little laugh: "What a real Apollo we have for a boatman, Henriette! He would be truly beautiful, wouldn't he, if he didn't have the absolutely stolid and expressionless face of all these stupid peasants." "Yes, your Highness, was the reply, "he has most beautiful blue eyes, and that yellow mustache with its bristling ends is no doubt fashioned directly after the emperor's. I wonder if the fellow has an idea in his head! He doesn't look so, does he?" And so they continued, laughing and commenting, until the other shore was reached, and the ferryman, leaping out with much grace, drew the boat up on shore. "Pay him, Henriette," said the younger girl, and her companion, drawing out a little silk purse, asked: "How much?" There was a little flash in the admired blue eyes and a deepening of the red under the tan, as the ferryman replied, without making any motion to take the fare. Alas, he was not understood, and Henriette, turning to the Princess, asked in a perplexed way, "What is the matter? Shall I offer him more?" This was too much, and the ferryman, with an air of desperation, bowed and said in perfect French, "No pay, if you please, Mesdames, it has given me too great pleasure." Then, taking his mountain-stick and raising his hat, he strode off with true army-swing down the road.

The Princess and Henriette eyed each other for an instant in horrified amazement, and then the latter broke out into little peals of laughter that echoed far down the road, and brought a smile to the lips of the man departing. "For goodness sake, Henriette, do stop that silly noise," cried the Princess, in Italian, her native tongue, and stamped on the ground with a small foot. "Was anybody ever in such an awkward position! It is all due to my having promised to talk your French for practice while we were gone; he wouldn't have understood

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