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object," said I, addressing a handsome young peasant woman, who, mounted on her bourrique, was conveying into town a sufficient load of eggs and vegetables for sale, singing to herself or conversing with her neighbours as she jogged along in terms of the most triumphant joy.

Ay, ay-you are a shrewd guesser to have found it out so readily!" she replied, with a blush and a laugh scarcely in accordance with the solemnity of the subject. "Poor fellow! it was time he should be in the hands of those so eager to possess him!"

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"And who so warmly appreciate the acquisition," said I. 'Is it expected, pray, that much interest will be excited in Rouen when he

through the town?"

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"Interest!” cried my companion, giving a slight punch to her monture by way of expediting its pace; "interest? I believe you! Every body will be overjoyed every living soul will be ready to welcome him. Last market-day, nothing else was thought of, or talked of. Que Dieu le bénisse, quoi! I, for my own part, have been full of nothing else these three months past. I have neither ate, drunk, nor slept for thinking of him!"

"Thiers is a great little man after all!" was my secret reflection. "How well he understood the national character! How ably did he calculate on the enthusiasm of these vain-glorious people!"

"It is not so pleasant, I can tell you, to find yourself continually crowed over by your neighbours," resumed my companion.-"Impossible to guess the joy of feeling that patience and perseverance have placed you in possession of the treasure you have been vainly coveting for years! Sainte Vierge de toutes les vierges! I am so proud in my soul, just at this moment, that I fear Monsieur le Curé will make me pay a heavy penalty for my pride. But I can't help it.-Human nature is human nature. The queen on her fine throne yonder in Paris feels no doubt much as I do to-day!"

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The feeling of national exultation seems, indeed, pretty universal," was my solemn reply. "Plait il?" demanded Madelon, puzzled by the magniloquence of the phrase.

"I was observing that I envied your country people their warmth of feeling on this occasion," said I.

"Only cast a glance upon the market-place this afternoon," cried she, "and I fancy you will have news to tell me on the subject!"

"Sweet enthusiast!" said I, greatly interested by her animated countenance.

"Come about one o'clock, when the great ladies crowd to purchase their nosegays and garden plants at the cathedral door," she resumed, " and you will see the sort of sensation that is excited by the event of the day."

Having no better occupation for an idle hour, I visited the market-place, whose vivid and variegated flower-stalls form so curious a contrast with the solemn frontage of the old cathedral, and the richly carved stonework of the opposite chapter houses. I saw no trace, however, of my friend. The laced cap of Madelon was not visible among the flower-women in their flapped straw hats. It was not till I was taking my way along the tortuous street leading from St. Ouen towards the quay, that I discerned my friend, still seated on her donkey, partly engaged in surveying the treasures of a neighbouring fripier's shop, and partly in conversation with an old peasant, to whom she was laying down the law.

"I told you, Marg'rite, you would live to see me raised out of the dirt!" said she. "I felt that I was not destined to tramp it through life. The Christmas before last, Blaise had already laid by three crowns towards the purchase, and still I had my eye on the poor bourrique, the finest within three parishes round! By last Christmas, we ought to have had three crowns more, though we only made up one and a half. But on Lady Day, my dear good Marg'rite, on Lady Day we had come up to the price within a few francs! The hay was to do the rest. The hay has done it. And here I am, and here is the beautiful animal which has cost me so many careful hours; and happy enough we are likely to be together for the re

mainder of our days!-See how all the world is looking at us-either envying my good fortune, or congratulating me! I told you," said she, turning towards me, on perceiving that I was listening to their conversation, I told you this morning that you would see at market tokens of the warm reception given to him!”

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“To him?” cried I, in some perplexity. ce que, par hasard, les restes de l'Empereur seraient déjà arrivés ?"

"L'Empereur?-qu'est ce que l'Empereur ?" retorted Madelon. "What have such as I to do with emperors?—I was talking of my new donkey !"

SONG.

BY MISS GOULD.

Little bird, little bird, with thy beautiful eye,
Looking as if 'twere cut out of a star,
How do I know but it once was on high,
Beaming through midnight, sublime and afar?
I cannot say what thy Maker divine,

When he composed thee an optic so bright,
Causing the skill of his finger to shine,

Took from his grand upper chamber of light!

Little bird, little bird, with thy spirit-like wings, Fleet as the air-as the rainbow in hues,

I do not know but the Ruler of kings

Formed them by those his best ministers use!

Were not the heavenly tints of thy plume,
Was not the delicate down of thy breast,
Drawn from the flowers that in Paradise bloom,
Pluck'd from its couch where the weary ones rest?

Little bird, little bird, was thy musical voice
Tuned by a seraph's so sweet and so clear?
Was not thy melody, touching and choice,
Taught by some angel who visited here ?
What! what, pretty fairy! so soon must thou go,
And, swift as a vision, without a reply-
Like other bright creatures of earth's passing show,
That charm to elude us, to change or to fly?

MOUNT TABOR.

'Tis evening upon Tabor's hill,

And, like a sheet of gold beneath,
Reflecting forest, star, and rill,

Sleeps broad and bright, Gennesareth;
Yet still four wayworn pilgrims climb,
Tabor, thy precipice sublime.

And now, with fainting steps and slow,
The four have reached the summit-plain;
And now their wearied limbs they throw
Amid its harvest's yellow grain-

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