to that document (which comes to them at second-hand) as to the speeches of the mover and seconder of the Address in answer to the Royal Message. The mover was the Hon. C. G. Lyttelton, the Liberal member for East Worcestershire, who looked remarkably well in the handsome uniform of the county yeomanry, and whose good memory and presence of mind enabled him to speak without reference to notes. It is a great occasion for a young man aspiring to political honours, for he now makes his "profession," as it were, and shows of what metal he is made. Mr. Lyttelton--who, by the way, is a near relative of Mr. Gladstone-did his work admirably, and evidently to the satisfaction of his father, who sat in the ambassadors' gallery, over the clock, where the Prince of Wales invariably sits when he attends a debate; and of the Earl of Dudley, who also had come down to witness the début of the young gentleman, who is a neighbour of the noble lord. Mr. Stone, the Liberal member for Portsmouth, and the seconder of the Address, was equally successful; indeed, both gentlemen will be a welcome addition to the debating power of their party. The speeches of Mr. Disraeli and Mr. Gladstone have been criticised until they are worn to tatters; and therefore nothing need be said of them here save that the two Augurs were quite equal to the occasion.

EDWARD LEGGE.

STRANGER THAN FICTION.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE TALLANTS OF BARTON," "THE VALLEY OF POPPIES," &c.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

A LETTER FROM MR. HORATIO JOHNSON.

BARMINSTER, Canada West,
Tuesday,

18-.

Y DEAR MR. JACOB,-This is the true land of liberty-boundless and free: too free in some respects and too boundless. You experience this painfully when your stock suddenly begin to extend their knowledge of locality. Last week I was out for three days looking up some oxen which had shown a special desire for geographical knowledge; and while I write, my worthy son-in-law, Tom Titsy, has been away from home for more than four-and-twenty hours on a similar expedition. But Tom is an excellent hand with a rifle. He kills birds better than he used to set up type, and Susan consoles us for his absence by saying he is sure to bring back a leash or two of partridges which, let me observe, Mrs. Johnson cooks to perfection.

"We had a rough voyage out; but, all things considered, we stood it well. I woke up one night in my shirt, rowing for my life on the hard boards of our cabin, with Mrs. Johnson alarming the whole ship by her cries for a light. I had dreamt we were shipwrecked, and during my desperate efforts to save the truest and noblest of women and the best cook in all the world I had fallen out of my berth, and continued my exertions on the floor, to the great discomfort of myself and the consternation of Mrs. J. I narrate this incident to you because it strikes me as funny, and it may relieve the monotony of an uninspired writer like myself, who does not possess those powers which so adorn the name of Martyn.

"The wonders of this country must be seen to be appreciated. Quebec particularly interested us; but Mrs. J. got nervous about the earthquake of 1663, traces of which are still shown to strangers. Poor dear soul, she fancied she felt the earth tremble under her, so we

Suffice it to say that, after

pushed on with all speed to Montreal. much travelling, much bargaining, and many strange incidents, I bought a farm out here at Barminster, where we are all comfortably settled, I hope for the remainder of our natural lives.

"In my next letter I intend to give you all particulars of the extent of our dominions, the quality of our stock, the profit we expect to realise by the clearance of the adjacent forest, which towers up in native grandeur to the skies. Our house is roughly built of logs and framework, but it is warm and comfortable, and I should immensely like you to see us at night sitting round the fire and talking of Middleton. Sometimes I read aloud in the old Shakespeare, while Tom cleans the guns, and Susan prepares the supper, and my wife knits stockings for everybody. But Tom, as I said before, is not with us to-night, and we are rather anxious about him, a fierce snowstorm having set in, and the woods being dreadful mazes at such times. However, Tom is careful, and has no doubt found shelter with some distant neighbour. Winter is indeed fierce out here. I came home the other morning, after a ride across country, with the icicles hanging from my beard. I have cultivated a grey one since we parted. We are all longing for the summer, when we have arranged to begin such a vigorous attack upon the bush hard by as shall considerably add to the extent of land cleared, and upon which clearing I intend to found name, fame, and family, which shall be heard of hereafter.

"Susan has just opened the outer door to look into the night. The snow is coming down in great white patches, driven with a hissing noise by the wind. She thinks we ought to have the bell rung and the horns blown, for fear he may have lost his way. Women are naturally timid, though Mrs. J. and Susan have taken to our rough life with a spirit that is delightful to contemplate. But in deference to their anxiety I must leave off writing to-night and seethat the horns are blown, and well blown, though I feel quite satisfied Tom is all right somewhere.

"Moniti meliora sequamur! A week has passed away since I left off writing. The woman's instinct was in part right. Mrs. Titsy in her old remarkable way had more than once said she was sure 'something was going to happen' on the night when I began writing this letter. She felt all over as if something were going to happen. She did not think it was anything very serious, but she had her feelings, and there was no denying of them.' She was right. Tom did not return for five days from his first setting out. We were all in the most miserable and abject state of alarm and anxiety about him. We

sent out our hands to search in all directions, and at last they found him safely housed and the few cattle which he went after duly sheltered. "But what a story Tom has brought home! I have always been a believer in the destiny that doth shape our ends, rough-hew them how we may but I am becoming more and more a confirmed and fixed fatalist, although, paradoxical as it may appear to you, there is not in my mind the shadow of a doubt about punishments and rewards belonging to this life as well as to the state to come. Tom was lost in the snow, but eventually the beacon light of a shanty, whose occupants had been living in the bush, brought him to a friendly haven. Inside he found a woman, two children, and a rough looking fellow who had gone shares in the labour of the woman's husband. The woman was young, had been good looking, and was as dark as a gipsy. Her husband had been out for two days, having started to shoot for the pot. The children were fierce, black-eyed, sturdy little fellows. Tom got refreshment and permission to remain until the morning. He was pleased to find that the woman knew something about Dinsley county in the old land. When she found that Tom knew the same place, however, she was anxious to speak of other subjects; but she had mentioned Cartown, where you were at school, you know, and Tom was so deeply interested and talked so much about the fine drives he had had with a kind, dear master of his through that district, that at last the woman talked about the green lanes thereabouts, and then began to cry and moan, and rock herself to and fro, and bewail her unhappy lot. Whereupon the rough brute I have spoken of laughed and mocked and sneered at her, and he and Tom nearly came to blows about it. However, the vagabond slunk off soon afterwards, and the woman, drying her eyes, sat up and evidently shook off the feeling that had overcome her, but would say no more. In the morning she begged Tom to stay until this man, who had gone out early to seek his comrade, returned, and then she spoke again of Dinsley county, and he mentioned his visit to you at Cartown school. She would have you described to her, and she said she knew you. Then she began to cry and said she did not know you. Tom got alarmed about the poor creature. Her two boys seized him by the legs and kicked him, thinking he had hurt their mother. They shook their little fists at him. In due time the searcher returned and looked less brutal than when he went out. He said he had found the master, this woman's husband, but they must go out to him as he could not come to them. Tom went forth with the rest, and not more than two miles from home they found, lying beside the embers of a burnt out fire which

had been made in the shade of a tree where the snow had been partially cleared, the frozen corpse of Julius Jennings.

"Such are the decrees of fate-such the certain punishment of crime, for none can doubt that Jennings was implicated in the murder of our poor friend Silas Collinson. His widow now tells us that she was a gipsy girl-her name Miriam; that she was married to Jennings according to the ceremonies of her tribe, her husband having become one of them. They had been unable to remain in England, she says, because of some great debt for which, her husband informed her, he was responsible; and after spending some years in America, buying goods and hawking them, they had, about a year ago, come to Canada to live in the bush as best they could, nothing having prospered with them. Strange creatures, women, they carry in their hearts the divine inspiration! Notwithstanding her association with the murderer Jennings, Mrs. Titsy and my wife, Mrs. J., have begged me to let the poor, broken-down creature come to live with us—she and her fierce, black-eyed gipsy boys. Jennings's comrade has started off for Montreal, thinking the weather was clearing; but the snow has come on again, and he is certain to meet with a similar fate to that of Jennings, as certain as I am writing this strange letter to you, unless he finds speedy shelter. He is evidently a bad fellow-bad in grain. We want all the assistance we can get, and I cannot baulk such a genuine piece of benevolence, so Mrs. Miriam-that is to be her name; we cannot call her Jennings-is coming to us, with her pair of little ragamuffins, and in the summer we shall rig up a more extensive establishment, which will be rendered absolutely necessary ere long by the arrival of other additions to our colonial household. I shall write to you again soon, and with the united best wishes of all here to yourself and the Mrs. Martyn that is to be, I am ever yours truly, and to command, HORATIO JOHNSON.

The woman

"P.S. This has been written a fortnight, but no opportunity of posting has arisen until to-day. I therefore open the letter to repeat that we are all well and happy. Mrs. Miriam is with us, and a good creature she is; and quite pretty still, so Susan says. must have gone through a sight of trouble and misery. Her boys will make first-rate cattle-minders. They are up to all sorts of tricks, and their occasional laughter makes our Canadian home seem all the more homely. Yesterday some wolves, pressed by hunger, howled by the place. I confess I would rather hear the watchdog's honest bark. Mrs. Miriam's eldest boy wanted to go out and fight them. We shall do battle with these, however, by civilisation, which comes