Year: 1877

a person who was not young prince, as my preamble seems to indicate, but an ordinary mortal, down whose papa's chimney neither good nor evil fairies came at his birth, though both seemed to have hand in the weaving of his destiny, of which the wool was perfect and the web sadly imperfect.

 He was rich, he was young, and he had pleasant face and a warm heart, and a fine mind; but, in his youth, a nurse had dropped him from her arms to the stone floor of the courtyard, and had so hurt him that he never could be anything but bent and distorted crip- pie all his life. As child, he had been so sheltered from every annoyance, so loved by his mother, and so much had been done to ease him from pain, that the fact had not troubled him much.- He limped about with a pleasant smile on his face, as happy child as any. He had but to breathe wish and it was gratified. Books, toys, music, whatever he wanted, came at his call as though the fairies had given him wishing cap. If he could but have remained child all would have been well, but, as all children must, he grew to be a man, and suddenly 1t dawned upon him one day that he was unlike other men; that women pitied him instead of admiring him; that all that he had was worth nothing to him, since he could never fn hoT cfr irh hnn formed limbs, and six good feet of height; and having once fallen into this train of thought, he would have been the poorest laborer on the roadside if that laborer would have given him for his wealth and advantages his well-knit | figure.

 This was after his, cousin Linda had been sent to his fathers care on her parents death in foreign country his cousin Linda, fresh and sweet and fair as a snow drop. She had been in great grief at first, and he had done his best to make her happier. He read to her from his valuable volumes; he played to her the music he loved best. They had long talks; they were com panions for days together; and strange, sweet emotions grew in the boys breast. He did not understand them at first. It was not for long while that he knew that he was in love.

 Knowing it, he awoke. He stood be- fore the glass one day and looked at himself, and tears arose to hls eyes.

 sNo woman could love me, he said ; q must not dream of it. And from that moment he was changed; he sought Linda's company no more, but hid him. self away from her.

 Have I angered you, cousin Clar- ence?' she once asked him; and he only shook his head and made no answer.- Other men were about her. Others per- haps loved her also. He began to hate them. All his tenderness turned to bitterness. He had not kind word for any one-he who had been always so utterly amiable.

 His mother was repulsed most rudely when she questioned him. He closed his doors against his friends; and at last he had the misery of hearing one he had offended say to another:

 q believe deformed persons are al- ways bad tempered. 1 used to think Clarence an exception, but it seems was mistaken

 'It is true,' he said, T have a deformed body, and my soul is deformed also; and he went sadly away to lonely place where he hoped to be left to him. self for awhile.

 It was river bank, shaded by the trees, under which he laid himself down. The waters were clear and deep; in them he saw himself reflected.

 Little hunchback,' he said with a groan, and menaced his own image with his clenched hand.

 Then shame possessed him, for, look ing up, he saw a tall, we'll built young man gazing down upon him with sin gular smile-a tall, handsome man; but the dust of the road was upon his clothes and his feet, and he carried little knapsack on his back. He was evidently either poor man or an eccentric one, who liked long tramps over weary ways. And he was not bashful man, for while Clarence eyed him angrily, he spoke with laugh:

 Good evening, sir. The world does not seem to please you.'

 1t is scarcely your affair if it does not, replied Clarance.

 q don't feel sure of that said the other, taking seat. beside him. Pm a curious kind of fellow, and should really like to know what is on your mind.'

 All this was very impertinent, Clar- ence thought, but there was that in the mans manner that did not deepen the offence. Suddenly the poor boys heart softened.

 Would there not be something on your mind' he said, speaking as he might to brother whom he had known all his life, if this was your reflection image in the water.

 'Oh,' said the stranger, understand. I certainly have better figure than you, and doubtless can walk further, but you'd not change with me. You're master of that old mansion yonder. I think. You are rich. You are learned and accomplished. You have troops of friends. This is all the money I have in the world,' and he tossed coin in his hand. q have neither house nor lands; no prospects no profession. no learning. I stand alone in the world"

 'Ah! but you stand so tall and straight in it, said Clarence. Change with you! Heaven knows l would if that were possible.'

 sPossiblev cried the other. You have learning, have none, but know