his arm, while with the other hand he wiped away the blood that was trickling from a wound in his cheek. But the bull was staggering blindly about the field, the courageous boy having managed, at the last moment, to pierce the brute's eye with his sword.

"I began to falter out some words of heartfelt thanks, and tried to seize my preserver's hand, but he checked me with an authoritative gesture, and said, sternly:

"It is extremely silly of girls to run about alone in fields where there are herds of cattle-remember that another time.' He nodded curtly, and, without troubling himself further about me, ran off in the direction of the College.

"Maybe you knew that boy, Monsieur le Consul?" I asked, gently.

There was a curious light in his dark eyes as if he were gazing into his longforgotten happy youth; but as he caught my expectant look fixed upon him, he frowned and answered, coldly: "No, I cannot say I remember."

Will you believe me, Annaliebe, that I had nothing in my heart but kindness for this man? He had saved my young life-himself hardly more than a child -at the risk of his own. I remembered no longer his fame, his exalted position; I only saw the little pale cadet who had rescued me from deadly peril. I was deeply moved, but, controlling my emotion as best I could, I murmured:

"Monsieur le Consul, may I venture on one more recollection of my youth?" He said nothing, but nodded his head musingly.

"About a year after the incident I have just related," I resumed, "I was once more in the neighborhood of Brienne, at the country house of the Marquise de Montesson, a friend of my mother's.

"This lady proposed, one day, to take me to the Military College at Brienne,

having received tickets for the annual examination of the cadets. It was the custom from time immemorial that the scholars who gained prizes should be crowned by the ladies, to which end the guests-this time the Marquise among the number-always brought wreaths with them.

"I was looking forward eagerly to this ceremony, for I had never forgotten my youthful preserver, and hoped I might now see him again. I had never even told my parents of my narrow escape, but had raised an altar of gratitude in my heart to the boywhose very name was unknown to me. What added zest to my anticipations was the thought that he would not be likely to recognize me, seeing that in this year I had grown out of the weakness of my childhood, and become tall and strong-a very different creature from the delicate little girl of the year before. So, with a beating heart, I took the wreath from the servant who was carrying it, and secretly hoped I might have the good fortune to be able to give it to my youthful hero. The wreath was a large and beautiful one, composed entirely of laurel leaves."

I had got so far in my story when I was suddenly interrupted by a strange sound-half sigh, half exclamation of joy-and the next moment the Consul had sprung forward and clasped both my hands in his. Overwhelming emotion shone in his dark eyes, and trembled in his voice when he spoke.

"So you were that sweet, kind girl, mademoiselle? Oh, ask what you will of me, I promise you beforehand to grant it-no matter what it is. Will you accept a pension-a post of any kind? You shall have your property back-I am more than overjoyed to have it in my power to serve you!"

You may imagine, my Annaliebe, how startled and amazed I was at this sudden outburst, this rapture of kindness, from the man who, but a moment

answer

before, had shown himself so stern and no I had unapproachable! ready. All I could do was to falter without reflection:

"Oh, sire, what have I done to deserve this gratitude?"

"What, this too!" broke in Bonaparte, in a tone of measureless excitement. "The royal title for the first timefrom your lips, my dear, infallible, little prophetess! And, once more, your words will come true," he continued, with the strange, far-away look of a seer. "Yes, I shall one day wear the crown and clasp the royal mantle round my shoulders-now I know it for certain. You set that laurel wreath on my young head in the far-off days at Brienne-the laurel crown that was to be followed by so many others. whispered to me then 'May it bring you good luck!' and truly it did, as you very well know. I am a fatalist, mademoiselle, and since you have foretold it to me, I feel the Crown of France upon my brow, I see the Sceptre of the great Realm already in my hand! How can I ever thank you enough?

You

"But first, the restitution of your property-" He seated himself at the

great writing table, wrote a few hurried lines, rang the bell, called to the Chamberlain, who entered at the summons-"Bourrienne."

I assure you, Annaliebe, I felt so dazed and bewildered by the rapid and extraordinary change in the Consul's manner, as well as by his evidences of amazing superstition, obviously uttered in entire good faith, that I sank into a chair, and, covering my eyes with my hand, endeavored to collect my scattered senses.

Very soon the door opened, and Bourrienne, the Consul's private secretary, entered.

"Take this paper to the Minister Regnier," said Bonaparte, "and tell him to arrange at once for the restitution of Mademoiselle de Courtot's property."

When the secretary had left the room, Bonaparte turned to me, and, holding out both his hands, with a beaming face, said:

"Now, was that right-will you consider this as the first fruits of my gratitude?"

I could only bow my head and stammer a few confused words of thanks.

the Compulsory Arbitration Law in New Zealand.

The Austrian novelist and poet, Dr. August Silberstein, died recently at Vienna, at the age of seventy-three.

Two hundred thousand copies of Miss Johnston's "To Have and To Hold" have already been sold and the book is still in most active demand, according to the reports of 33 out of 34 booksellers in various cities, in The Bookman.

Apprehensions are said to have been felt in England regarding Mr. Stevenson's grave, since it has been known that Samoa was to become German territory, but they are not shared by Mrs. Stevenson, who has made it clear that she will permit no disturbance of her husband's remains.

Up to the present time St. Petersburg has had no evening papers, but the interest taken in the war in South Africa has been so great as to induce the Sswet, a widely-read paper, to publish an evening supplement of a single page, containing the latest war news.

Among the spring announcements of Little, Brown & Co. are "The Colombian and Venezuelan Republics," by William L. Scruggs, late Minister of the United States to Colombia and Venezuela; "A Dream of a Throne: a story of a Mexican Revolt," by Charles F. Embree; and "Curita, Countess of Albornoz," a novel of Madrid society, translated from the Spanish of Luis Coloma.

A privately printed book, concerning the Athenæum Club at London, tells the story of the reconciliation between Thackeray and Dickens, which took place at the foot of the Athenæum's staircase. Dickens passed Thackeray

without speaking, but Thackeray followed him and insisted on shaking hands, saying that he could not bear that there should any longer be illfeeling between them.

Messrs. L. C. Paige & Co. announce their purpose to publish at once in their "Court Memoir Series" twelve new volumes, thus completing the set of twenty volumes, of which eight were published last year. Of the new volumes, the "Memoirs of Empress Josephine" will fill three, those of Marie Antoinette, of the Court of St. Cloud, of the Courts of Sweden and Denmark, and of the Court of Berlin two each, and those of Catharine II of Russia one volume.

The editor of the Literary Year Book' for 1900 asked a number of critics to select the book published last year which particularly appealed to them. Some of the selections were as follows: Mr. Andrew Lang: "Some Experiences of an Irish R.M."

Mr. W. E. Henley: Bunyan's "Life and Death of Mr. Badman." Mr. Quiller-Couch: Stevenson's "Letters."

Mr. George W. E. Russell: Sir Her

bert Maxwell's "Life of Wellington." Mr. Joseph Jacobs: Spencer and Gillen's "Native Tribes of Central Australia"; Prof. Ward's "Naturalism and Agnosticism." Mr. Bernard Capes: "Autobiography of Mrs. Oliphant." Canon

Benham: Edward N. Westcott's "David Harum."

The heroine of Mrs. Jennette Lee's graphic story, "Kate Wetherill," which the Century Co. publishes, is a strongwilled woman who, for nineteen years, has lived a life of wretchedness with the husband whom her crude girlish fancy chose. Her own latent ambitions and cravings have developed, and Dave Wetherill is wholly unable to compre

hend them. Her desperation, her struggle of conscience, her resolution to free at least her soul and maintain a peace of mind that shall make her home better, with the tragedy resulting from the coming into the household of a young, inexperienced, and easily-influenced girl, who is the village teacherall this, even to the end, makes an appealing and, at times, an intensely stirring tale.

A little tale of the fairy-story order, embodying wise and helpful lessons for young readers, is Ruth Lewinson's "The Reward of Prince Cheerfulness," which William R. Jenkins publishes. A good king and queen, a lovely lost princess, a fearful Dragon Temper, and a cool-headed hero make it decidedly attractive to children.

SO

A book of remarkable fascination is "The Prose of Edward Rowland Sill," which Houghton, Mifflin & Co. publish. It not only possesses those sympathetic, nature-loving qualities, deeply felt in all Sill's verse, but looks out on life in a broad, sane, high-minded way, and has a clear, distinct point of view, a kindliness and charm that in itself is stimulating. The reader is inclined to appropriate one of the writer's own delicately-applied quotations, from the essay on "Principles of Criticism," and call this a book to make people "wiser, better and happier." Many of these sketches appeared originally in the Contributor's Club of the Atlantic Monthly.

A story of modern Italian life, "The Waters of Edera," by Ouida, deals convincingly with the question of government indifference to the rights of the poor. The plot hinges upon a plan to turn from its river-bed the water of the Edera, a scheme which would enrich a business company in league with politicians, but practically be the ruin

of the peasants who, for hundreds of years, had found their living along its banks. The resistance of a young peasant leader, Adone Alba, the part played by a priest of unusual talent, and the devotion and sacrifice of a little, halfwild girl, form a story which ought to accomplish some of the good its writer clearly means that it shall. R. F. Fenno & Co.

"The

If, as the biographer of "Wahb". makes clear, men have given up the birthright of ears and eyes and nose "for the privilege of living in towns," they have, at least, kept much natural fellow-feeling for their wood-brothers. Not only the text, vigorous and touching as it is, but the very illustrations in Ernest Seton-Thompson's Biography of a Grizzly" so closely follow the life-record of the big eight-feettall old bear that he becomes almost human in his personality. Hé commands pity, esteem, admiration, and he points many an unconscious moral for mankind. The contrast between the manners of Wahb in the uncivilized woods and Wahb on company behavior at his regular summer outing in Yellowstone Park, is of particular interest. It is not too much to say that the pictures of Wahb, from babyhood to old age, have the portrait quality and give throughout a consistent idea of this one especial grizzly, and the thoughts within his perplexed bearish mind. The Century Co.

When a sea-captain who can both build his own boat and take it alone from one end of the world to the other has also the ability to write a breezy account of his adventures on the voyage, a good book naturally results. Captain Joshua Slocum's "Sailing Alone Around the World" is of this class. The skipper of the Spray saw Stevenson's island, saluted the Oregon on her famous trip, got impressions of St. Hele

na, and had an interview with President Krüger, among a hundred other interesting experiences. A good-humored sense of the ridiculous adds much to the entertaining quality of the book, and the illustrations enable one to picture the sloop at many points of interest. (The Century Co.)

The different stages, swift or slow, in the development of an utterly unscrupulous temperament are strikingly worked out in Dr. S. Weir Mitchell's "Autobiography of a Quack," which the Century Co. publishes. Many readers of the Atlantic will remember this tale, the narrator of which is supposed to be a broken-down quack doctor, who writes the record for his own diversion as he lies ill in a hospital. As an exposé of a variety of impositions not uncommonly practised, the story may be useful as well as interesting. The volume also contains a shorter sketch, "The Case of George Dedlow," which might be called a study in amputation, or a study in psychology, according to the effect upon the reader. It is a ghastly tale, with a characteristic suspicion of humor at the conclusion.

That species of young clergyman-confident, correct and athletic-who enters town with a triumphal following of golf clubs and sole-leather trunks, has been admirably and not unkindly portrayed in his career by Bradley Gilman, in "The Parsonage Porch." His particular story, one of a group of seven, is searching as well as clever, and ought to edify a goodly number of aspiring young "organizers," as it certainly will the members of their parishes. Another of these sketches, touching and rare in its sympathetic insight, is "The Rival Undertakers," which has a mission to perform in behalf of an often misunderstood class of men. And the book is very far from gloomy. It has hopefulness and vigor,

and adds distinctly to belief in humankind. Little, Brown & Co.

An intensely fascinating book, varying in its moods from the deeply tragic or pitiful to the charming or lighthearted, is the notable collection of letters and diary extracts called "The Memoirs of the Baroness Cecile de Courtet," who is said to have been lady-in-waiting to the unfortunate Princess de Lamballe. The book

is

edited by the great-grandson of the German lady in whose home the young Frenchwoman, after a narrow escape from the guillotine, and the loss of her lover, found care and shelter. The principal letters are those sent back to this home upon her return to France to beg from the First Consul a restoration of her property. MarieAntoinette, Bonaparte, Talleyrand and Josephine are conspicuous figures in a record that has all the sustained excitement of a romance; and the narrative dealing with Napoleon himself is always striking and entertaining. Henry Holt & Co.

Any woman about to visit Paris for the first time-and every woman who has aspirations in that direction-will take delight as well as satisfaction in an attractive little handbook which Small, Maynard & Co. publish, called "A Woman's Paris." It tells exactly such things as an old resident, not forgetful of American customs and American principles, would impart to one ignorant of Paris and apt to make mistakes, not only as to hotels, shops and art galleries, but in connection with theatres, restaurants, and even walks. It will prove a useful friend to a multitude of travellers this summer, especially as a chapter on the Exposition gives particular information designed to fit a peculiar readjustment of prices now going on among expectant Parisian shopkeepers and landlords.