Year: 1868

We forget in what book it was, many
years ago, that we read the story of the
lover who was to win his mistress by
carrying her to the top of mountain,
and how he did win her.


We think the scene was in Switzer-
land; but the mountain, though high
enough to tax his stout heart to the ut
most, must have been among the low
est. Let us fancy it good lofty hill, in
the summer time. 1t was, at any rate,
so high that the father of this lady, a
proud noble, thought it impossible for
young man so burdened to scale it.
For this reason alone, in scorn, he babe
him to do it, and his daughter should
be his.


The peasantry assembled in the val
ley to witness so extraordinary sight.
They measured the mountain with their
eyes; they communed with one an
other, and shook their heads; but all
admired the young man, and some of
the fellows, looking at their mistress,
thought they could do as much. The
father was on horseback, apart and
20 ia aasa.l
snllen, repenfing That lie 'hada Is, go to
his daughter even to the show of such i
hazard, but he thought it would teach
his inferior lesson. The young man
the son of a small land proprietor, who
had some pretensions to wealth, though
none to nobility stood respectfully
locking, though confident, rejoicing il
his heart that he should win his mistress.
though at the cost of noble pain, which
he could hardly think of as pain, con-
sidering who it was he was to carry.
If he died for it, he should at least have
had her in his arms, and have looked
her in the face. To clasp her person in
that manner was pleasure he contem-
lated with such transport, as is known
to lovers; for none others know how re-
spect hightens the joy of dispensing
with formality, and how dispensing
with formalities ennobles and makes
grateful the respect.


The lady stood by the side of her fa-
ther, pale, desirous and dreading. She
thought her lover would succeed, but
only because she thought him in every
respect the noblest of his sex, and that
nothing was too much for his strength
and valor. Great fears came over her,
nevertheless. She knew not what might
happen in the chances common to all
She felt the bitterness Of being herself
the burden to him and qithe task; and
dared neither to look at her father, MOI
the mountain. She fixed her eyes now
on the crowd-which nevertheless she
beheld not--snd now on her hand and
her fingers ends, which she doubled uI
towards her with q pretence-the only
deception she had ever used. Once OF
twice daughter or mother slipped out
of the crowd, and coming up to her, not.
withstanding their fears of the lord ba.
ron, kissed that hand which she knew
not what to do with.


The father said, "Now, sir, to put an
end to this mummery;" and the lover
turning pale for the first time, took uI
the lady.


The spectators rejoice to see the man.
ner in which he moves off, slow, but Sc.
cure, and as if encouraging his mistress
They mount the hill ; they proceed we'll
he halts an instant before he gets mid.
way, and seems refusing something
then he ascends at a quicker rate; and
now being at the midway point, shifts
the lady from one side to the other. The
spectators give great shout. The ba
ron, with an air of indifference, bites
the tip of his gauntlet, and then casts on
them an eye of rebuke. At the shout
the lover resumes his way. Slow but
not feeble is his step, yet it gets slower.
He stops again, and they think they see
the lady kiss him.


The women begin to tremble, but the
men say he will be victorious. He re-
sumes again; he is half way between the
middle and the top; he rushes, he stops,
he staggers, but he does not fall. An
other shout from the men, and he re-
sumes once more; two thirds of the re-
naming part of the way are conquered.
They are certain the lady kisses him on
the forehead and on the eyes. The wo-
men burst into tears, and the stoutest
men look pale. He ascends slower than
ever, but seems to be more sure. He
halts, but it is only to plant his foot to
go on again, and thus he picks his way,