malicious intent. He never read anything but the newspaper, so all his thoughts were turned on his neighbours and their affairs; and as his sister was rather an invalid, and often spent most of her day in her little sitting-room upstairs, he found immense pleasure in collecting long stories to be afterwards retailed to her over a cup of afternoon tea. He considered indeed that he was fulfilling a duty in thus entertaining "poor Maria"-not in the least suspecting that "poor Maria" was often rather bored with his gossip, and only refrained from checking him because she divined his kindly motive, and because she considered this failing as the best outlet he could have. All men, she thought, must have some outlet for their lower nature, and, after all, James's passion for long stories was a harmless one, better than the turf or cards. Then, too, she thought it wiser to hear all his news, so that she might revise it and prevent him as far as possible from becoming scandalous andmischief-making, his mind being too indiscriminating to discern all the poison there might be lurking in his stories. "Yes," continued Forbes, "I might as well turn into Stevens's club now, and see if anything can be done." He walked out of the room without any further good-bye, forgetful of Sir James's presence even, rather to that gentleman's surprise, but as he said to Maria afterwards about it, "Forbes always was rather a queer fellow, you know, always rather abrupt in his manner; and if he doesn't like you, or you bore him, he as good as says so." Bernard, when he got outside into the hot street again, began to reflect that after all he would be acting on somewhat feeble evidence if he went and upbraided Stevens for paying attention to Anne Blake for the sake of her money, merely because of Haughton's account of Mrs. Taylor's dinner-party. It would after all be better, perhaps, to go to the Blakes and see Emma— "Aunt Emma,” as he had learned in his boyish days to call her —and ask her what was the truth of it all and what he could do in the matter. Yes, he would do that; it was only four o'clock, Jane might be out of the way, for she was often not visible before five. So he turned up away from Pall Mall and Haughton's club with long rapid strides. (To be continued.) Christmas in the Egean. IT is the eve of Christmas in the world, Drifts past the seagull with her wide wings furled. We floated on between the isles that lie Like leaves of lilies in a summer mere, And dreamed no storm wind ever ventured near This zone of peace between the sea and sky. We dreamed of golden galleys and of quays Bright with their burden of long colonnades, The shrines of Passion and the mystic glades, The siren cities of the Cyclades. Where are the island voices now? The mirth Is dead or silent; no mad laughter thrills The dance of Oreads in the happy hills Where twilight settles on a sadder earth. For here on that first Christmas eve, men said The feet of time have touched the rocky shore, So day went down behind the ocean rim, While westward the sweet star of silence grew Through yellow hazes melting into blue; The shadows deepened till the isles were dim. Then like a soul forsaken, hushed in fright The dark world seemed to pause, no ripple broke, No wind, no voice of earth or ocean spoke, While the stars watched from the great arch of night; Till faintly eastward flushed the hope of morn, RENNELL RODD. Present and Past. WHAT do I think about London? Well, sir, I knew London pretty well before you were born. Forty-five years ago I wrote a dozen letters from this city to a New York paper describing in glowing terms the hospitalities which I enjoyed, and the numerous prominent persons with whom I spent many happy hours. I have lived two winters in London, so I came quite prepared to meet and enjoy its winter weather, whatever it might be. I cheerfully do as they do in Spain when it rains—let it rain. I have visited England thirty times and have nearly as many personal friends here as in America, consequently, I am experiencing continual pleasure in meeting them again, and in making new friends. I have enjoyed numerous festivities at their hands, and regret that I cannot accept one quarter of the invitations which I receive. I have been in more towns in England than many of its residents have, for I travelled all over it with Tom Thumb in 1844-5 and 1846. Three times we had the honour of appearing before Her Majesty the Queen. My present Great Exhibition has been visited by the Prince and Princess of Wales, and all the members of the Royal Family who have been in London since our arrival, as well as by Princess Beatrice, who came from Windsor Castle expressly for that purpose. "Olympia" is the largest and best adapted building that my Show was ever exhibited in, though it is not nearly large enough. We are sometimes obliged to turn people away for want of room, though this is usually avoided by booking seats in advance. Although we have several thousands of one-shilling and twoshilling seats, they are usually filled. We have no standing room, and every person who gets even a shilling ticket secures with it a numbered seat. I wish we could supply a greater number of these low-priced seats; but if "Olympia" was filled with shilling and two-shilling people twice a day it would not half pay our expenses. It cost us one hundred thousand pounds before we opened, and our daily expenses are fourteen hundred pounds. But I don't care for that. I was determined to show our Mother Country what her daughter America could do in the way of novel and instructive amusement. I notice that my bill-posters, who have posted large numbers of my full-sized picture throughout London, have placed under them the name "P. T. Barnum," which is all very well for this country; but in America, where every child recognizes my portrait, it is unnecessary to affix the name, and we place under it instead, in large letters, the words, "The Children's Friend." I am a great lover of children and have a number of children, grand-children, and great-grand-children of my own. All my exhibitions for the last forty years have contained many elements for the special pleasure and edification of the little ones. I expected to lose money, and I told the British Public in a card published before our arrival that a loss of half a million pounds would not disturb my Bank account nor my equanimity. But the immense patronage we are receiving happily places the balance largely on the other side. So when we return to the United States a month or two hence, it is evident that we shall have the satisfaction of knowing our Transatlantic trip with the Greatest Show on Earth was pecuniarily profitable, and received the hearty approval of the British Public. I am asked how we are able to exhibit this great Show in the different American cities. We show twice a day under a tent that seats 25,000 people—one third more than "Olympia." We transport our entire Show all over the United States and Canada, exhibiting in every town containing more than 60,000 inhabitants. The population of such towns is frequently doubled on "Barnum Day," because cheap excursion trains bring their thousands of passengers from distances of more than a hundred miles. Our entire Show is transported in three railway trains, consisting of our own seventy-four freight carriages twice as long as yours, and a long train of Pullman sleeping-cars. We travel only by night, often running more than a hundred miles. Our daily expenses in America are even larger than in London. The receipts of our great Show in America, while exhibiting under its enormous tents, are fabulous. We often take $20,000 to $23,000 per day. My manager's great ambition is to touch $25,000, or £5000 a day, which I have no doubt we shall |