the mountains. This silly coach-how it loiters! My own feet were better!" At Lucca she impatiently left her company, forgetting all ceremony, to the astonishment of a gentleman with a ribbon in his button-hole. She sought not for another conveyance, certain that her pace would be quicker than the lazy trot of such horses as had borne her from Pisa; and somewhat touched with shame at riding at her ease while Gaetano toiled on foot. On she walked, and in a few minutes came to that tedious part of the road, where the eye sees, in a straight line, and on a flat, full three miles in prospect, between two double rows of trees. She strained her sight, but could distinguish no one in a sailor's habit. She quick

ened her steps. The road then takes a slight turn, and there is again a similar prospect, and for the same extent. Still not seeing him, she cried out "Oh! where is he? Dear Madonna, queen of heaven, do but preserve him in his right mind, and I will be content! Let his father's arms receive him, and I will returnhappy-and he shall never know that he might find a home in mine!" Coming into Pescia, she observed some children building their clay-houses on the side of the bridge; and perceiving that their work must have lasted from the morning, she hoped they could give her some information. From them she learned that such a one had passed, though they disagreed as to the time, and described him very doubtfully; however, one among them, a little creature with a sharp thin face, satisfied her it could be no other but Gaetano, by his wonder at his long quick strides. Now she felt more light of heart, and gazed upon the mountains, clothed in a thousand varieties of trees and shrubs, and forming a kind of amphitheatre above the city, and her eyes wandered over the rich, luxuriant plain, till her soul was elevated by the beauty of nature, and, forgetting the Madonna, she prayed direct to the Creator.

At that moment, Gaetano knocked at his father's door. The servant who opened it, though a stranger to him, looked confused, as if he had been taught to expect such a visitor; and without asking any questions, left him on the threshold. Presently he returned, and in a low voice told him he was threatened to be dismissed from the house, if he did not immediately close the door upon him. "Then do your duty," said Gaetano, "and shut me out," and as he spoke he retired one step backward," but tell my father I only desire to touch his hand before I leave him for ever. No reply was brought, and the son waited there without motion, like a At last the window of the room where the father lay, was opened. The wretched old man, on a sick bed, his bed of death, with a voice scarce human, shrieked at his once beloved boy in His fury was exasperated, instead of being subdued, by his

statue.

curses.

own sufferings-I will not, I cannot repeat his words. Gaetano stood firmly, and heard them with a painful smile. But when they ceased, and there was silence, he sunk upon his knees, with his body supported against the door-post. The window was closed. Passengers stopped in their way, and whispered, and knew not how to act. At last a little girl from a neighbour's was sent with food, and as she said, "Dear signor, eat! eat!" Gaetano laughed. One circumstance I must not omit: his brother, the now favoured son, stole softly round from the garden door, and kissed him, but for a short moment, and then fled swiftly back, lest his love should be noticed by any one in the house. Towards night-fall, the sympathy of the town's people increased, and collecting there in a crowd, they began to talk loudly and impatiently. This still more enraged the father; he ordered the window to be opened again, but his curses were answered by a cry from the people in the street; and a poor cripple, a beggar, exclaimed, "Peace, peace! irreverent old man!" and they heard him no more.

Nina was then forcing her way through the crowd. She had just arrived, pale and heart-sick, but not weary. Regardless of the bystanders, or rather, not giving them a thought, she knelt down close to Gaetano, with her arms crossed upon her breast, like one of Raphael's angels, and prayed him to forgive her. He heard her gentle voice as a voice from heaven, and lifting his feeble eyelids, saw who it was. "Forgive you!" he replied, "I forgive all-alleven my father! every one but myself!" And striving to raise himself from the door-post, he sunk senseless into her arms. She believed his heart was burst-that he was either dead or dyingand screamed for help. The window above her head closed against her cries.

Many among the crowd sprung forward to her assistance, and they bore Gaetano to an inn, while Nina walked by his side without a word, his hand fast locked in hers. On the following morning he was in a high fever, which, after a few days, became so violent, it threatened speedily to destroy him. All the while Nina was his kind nurse; and in spite of the restraint laid upon unmarried women in Italy, she alone attended him. "Entire affection scorneth nicer hands." The brother often visited him, but secretly, and at night, with all the circumspection of a gallant to his mistress. At length Nina had the joy to see his health return, hanging over him with her sweet, quiet smiles, till he gazed upon her, forgetting he was unhappy. In a few days he wondered if it was possible to be unhappy again. And the roses began to blush on her cheeks more beautiful than ever they had blushed before. Yet they never talked of loving each other-it was a waste of words-neither of

them had a doubt of it. One evening, the brother, as he paid his stolen visit, was not in the least surprised to hear they were married -why should he? And he wished them joy, and embraced Gaetano, and kissed the hand of his sister-bride, with a happiness almost equal to their own.

There was a good opportunity for opening a snuff-shop at Pescia, so the young couple resolved to fix themselves there. The aunt, and all the stock in trade, were removed from Pisa in the same cart to the new shop. Gaetano was presently initiated into the mysteries of weights and scales and canisters, delighted with his industry as his wife stood by his side. Yet at times a pang came across him as he thought of his father. At the end of six months a priest called, and said his genitore had forgiven him. This was merely effected by the horrors of his faith; and, therefore, the greatest bigot could have received but little comfort from it. In fact, he did no more than forgive him as a Christian; with this proviso, that he would never see him or leave him a farthing. Soon after this the old man died. Immediately the brother offered to divide the property; and upon his repeated entreaties, Gaetano did receive a part. "I cannot take half," said he, "because you, with a large house and no shop, are a poorer man than I am.'

The aunt is more demure than ever. There are so many stories abroad of the infamy of an illustrissimo becoming a shopkeeper, and of a respectable girl, marrying a convict, that she is nervous. She goes about protesting she had no hand in the matter, that nothing of the kind ever entered her head, and thus gets suspected, most undeservedly, as a sly, good-for-nothing, wicked woman.

True love, they say, must be "itself alone," not the offspring of any other passion; and that affection springing from gratitude or pity is by no means love; with many more wise sayings, which I forget. To all this I have nothing to reply,-I only refer such dogmatizers to the principal snuff-shop in Pescia. Gaetano and Nina have now three children. The youngest is the most beautiful infant I ever saw, 66 especially at the mother's breast;" mind, reader, these are the husband's own words, and you are not to make me accountable for so dainty an observation.

LEIGH HUNT.

THE HOLLY TREE.

O READER! hast thou ever stood to see
The holly tree?

The eye that contemplates it well perceives
Its glossy leaves

Order'd by an intelligence so wise,

As might confound the Atheist's sophistries.

Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen
Wrinkled and keen;

No grazing cattle through their prickly rouud
Can reach to wound;

But as they grow where nothing is to fear,
Smooth and unarm'd the pointless leaves appear.

I love to view these things with curious eyes,
And moralize :

And in this wisdom of the holly tree
Can emblems see

Wherewith perchance to make a pleasant rhyme,
One which may profit in the after time.

Thus, though abroad perchance I might appear
Harsh and austere,

To those who on my leisure would intrude
Reserved and rude,

Gentle at home amid my friends I'd be,

Like the high leaves upon the holly tree.

And should my youth, as youth is apt I know,
Some harshness show,

All vain asperities I day by day

Would wear away,

Till the smooth temper of my age should be
Like the high leaves upon the holly tree.

And as, when all the summer trees are seen
So bright and green,

The holly leaves their fadeless hues display
Less bright than they;

But when the bare and wintry woods we see,
What then so cheerful as the holly tree?

So serious should my youth appear among
The thoughtless throng,

So would I seem amid the young and gay
More grave than they,

That in my age as cheerful I might be
As the green winter of the holy tree.

SOUTHKY.

MISERIES OF A HANDSOME MAN.*

MISERIES of a handsome man! Young ladies will smile and old men look incredulous at this declaration, but let not either of those classes deem me an object of envy ;-far from it. Little do they imagine how I am led to reproach my beautiful mouth, to look daggers at my brilliant eyes, to devote each particular feature to the most particularly unpleasant fate that ever unhappy beauty endured. How often do I envy the peaceful state of mind which they who are called "ordinary people," they who have every thing "in common" are destined to enjoy-they whose noses luxuriate in such an insignificancy of snub as never to have excited the impertinent attacks either of admiration or of envy-whose eyes nobody knows the colour of whose height is five feet something-in short, whose whole personal attributes are framed with such attention to the golden mean as never to have attracted attention. Perhaps my readers may smile at thisthey will not understand the nature of my miseries-let them listen. My infancy was my golden age; mountains of sugar plums, oceans of jellies, torrents of kisses, were the rewards I received for being born a beauty. Oh, that I could have always continued six years old! But the scene soon changed, the first hint I received that life was in future to consist of something else than comfits and kisses, was from my father, who told my mother in my presence, that the boy's pretty face was likely to make him a pretty fool. From that time my fate darkened. I was sent to school, where the boys called me Polly, and the master told me with a jeer, when his infernal cane was on my back, not to spoil my pretty face with crying. Some of the bigger ruffians would absolutely squirt ink on my face, and tell me they were beauty spots;a thousand indignities of this sort were my unfortunate lot. When I left school the prospect brightened a little; I was yet too young to be an object of fear to mammas or curiosity to daughters. My prettiness was as yet thought amusing; nay, so innocent was its nature at that time, that a maiden lady, verging towards what is emphatically called a certain age, who had taken a fancy to portrait painting, actually desired me to sit to her, my face was so like the Apollo's. I never sat but once, and after some time I learned that the old cat had remarked, that whatever likeness the rest of my face might bear to the Apollo, my eyes were unquestionably full of the devil! That remark clung to me for years after. I never got the better of it. For a year or two, however, I may be said to have enjoyed my existence; but "a change came o'er the spirit of my dream." It was discovered that I was vain,-"all handsome people are vain, * From " Every Man's Paper Book."