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OUR PARIS CORRESPONDENT.

My Dear C ,

Nothing in our political "position seems to change, our papers announce one day and contradict what they have given for certain the next. As for changes in the Ministry, we have mentioned successively every nameable man, Minister of State, and laughed at him the next day with all the versatility of our nature. The discussions in the Corps Legislatif, for the verification of the different elections, have, as usual, been boisterous; and many feared a dissolution of that body, which would have put the country in an uproar again, and have done no good to any party. The nomination of Rochefort took us rather by surprise, and all those who are not " irreconcilables," have been sadly down on the poor man, turning him into ridicule in every possible manner. The Emperor, at the opening of the sessions, smiled when his name was called, and the whole assembly applauded his Majesty and cried "Vive l'Empereur I" Since then the public call Napoleon III. "L'homme qui rit." His Majesty's smile, however, grated on the nerves of the honourable deputy, the object of that smile; who, in his turn, revenged himself at the Corps Legislatif, by declaring "that he could not see why he, Rochefort, was turned into ridicule; for, let him be as ridiculous as he might, he could not be more so than that Monsieur who once walked about Boulogne with alive eagle on his shoulders and some fat pork in his hat," alluding to Prince Louis Napoleon's poor attempt to raise an insurrection at Boulogne during Louis Philippe's reign, when the Prince paraded the quay of that town. Thus " the fat pork in his hat" has met with as great a success as the Emperor's smile, and has been quite a " tit bit" with the Parisians, whose wit it has excited in every form, until it has become quite a saying, whether his Majesty likes it or not.

A little amusement is always hailed with joy by our modern Athenians, as we call ourselves, let the state of affairs be ever so serious. Monsieur Emilie Ollivier, and Rochefort, share between them the attention of the humorists for the moment, and are perforated with small shot. "We can no longer say that the 'Olliver' (olive tree) cannot be acclimatized in every zone," says one. "No," answers another, "but it takes root in none," alluding to M. Ollivier's versatile nature in politics. The return of the Empress from her oriental excursion, has again made her enemies mix her name with politics; everything that is done contrary to their wishes, is laid on the august lady. A Government paper has several times declared that her Majesty never interferes in publicaffairs, butit is of no use. The "Rappel"

has been suppressed for an injurious article on their Majesties, and of course, the Empress is accused of being the cause of thatseverity. That newspaper is to re-appear under the name of the " Marseillaise." Report also says that the Empress has ordered one of her chamberlains to meet Father Hyacinthe on his return from America, and to request him to renounce, of his own accord, the honour of preaching at the Tuileries Chapel, as it had been arranged before this priest became a heretic, or something approaching it.

Her Majesty has brought home with her a white camel and a monkey. The camel is sent to the "Jardin des Plantes," and the monkey inhabits the palace, where he is the darling of the courtiers.

Monsieur Drouyn de l'Huys was sent for the other day in great speed; the Empress wished to speak to him. Quick, the honourable exminister ran off to the palace, expecting that nothing less than his title of Excellence was about to be restored to him, or that the Emperor had sent for him to form a new cabinet. Ushered into the imperial presence, her Majesty, with one of her most gracious smiles, pointed to her monkey, that appeared out of spirits and languishing. "Monsieur," said she, "I sent for you, as you are the director of the ' Jardin d'acclimatation, thinking that you could tell mc what to do for poor Jacko to get him accustomed to our cold climate; the poor dear already feels the effect of the transition." Alas! "what a falling-off was there!"

During the Empress's absence his Majesty visited his cousin, the Princess Matilde, who had so offended the Emperor and Empress by the letters she had written to M. de Ste Beuve, in which letters she, not imagining that her cousins would ever see their contents, had, "sans ceremonie," exercised her wit, and laughed at them to her heart's content. At the Senator's death these letters had come to the knowledge of the Emperor and Empress, and » coolness had ensued. The Empress refuses to be reconciled, declaring that she cannot forgive her cousin's insults in those letters.

The return to Paris of the Ambassador antl Ambassadrice of Austria, the Prince and Princess de Metternich has gjven the signal for pleasure and eccentric "todettes;" velvet dresses m particular are all the rage, and one see3 n°tliing but short dresses in the streets, more and more "a la Wateau," heaped up in the m°st ungraceful manner at the top of the skirts. The dirty weather has made black very fashionable, especially black bonnets, that will soon be nothing but a flower and feathers. The oldfashioned strings have again appeared to tie under the chin, only in velvet with lace over them.

We talk a great deal about the Council at Rome, where, it seems, some of our bishops are not very popular, and are on their road home again, having had enough of it. It seems we are all to be excommunicated if we do not submit ourselves to the Council's decision in all matters, which is a great matter for mirth and joking here amongst those who "s'en fiche," and there are many in that case.

Apropos of church affairs, one of our new deputies relates an amusing anecdote. Mousieur Cremieux, who is a well-known barrister and an Israelite in religion, was once applied to by the inhabitants of it little village near Nimes, to plead before the tribunal the following cause: The Seigneurof their village, asagood lloman-catholic, had sometime before made the parish a present of aciborium, the day of and in honour of his wedding. Something had since happened to offend him, and in his wrath he had taken back his gift. The peasants, with their " euro" were indignant, and resolved to plead their right to a thing given. They immediately requested M. Cremieux to undertake their cause. The barrister answered: "My good friends, your law-suit may last a long while and cost you very dear, I advise you then not to plead. As your good Catholic of a Seigneur has taken away your ciborium, allow me, who am an Israelite, to offer you another, which I have just purchased and sent to you by train." Two months after, M. Cremieux received an answer. The Municipal Council acknowledged the reception of the ciborium, adding that they had M. Cremieux's name engraved on it, that they had bought a portrait of the celebrated barrister at Montaubon, which they had had richly framed and put in the church opposite, the portrait of St. Nicholas, guardian saint of the parish. Who knows but what, in future days, M. Cremieux's portrait may be taken by the faithful for the blessed Saint himself, and receive their prayers for intercession in their behalf? May be it will one day work miracles just the same as many others. This Monsieur Creniieux is father-in-law to Madame Moubelli, who, it is said, is engaged in London at one of the Italian theatres. She is a young, beautiful, but frail lady; who is separated from her husband, and who would fain mount the stage here, only that her husband has put his veto on that, and she cannot do it.

We were half afraid that our deputy, GlaisBezoin, would not be elected. He has always been to the Corps Legislatif what Monsieur de Boissy was to the Senate: that is, always calling everyone to account for their actions, letting nothing pass unperceived—the enfant terrible of the House. He has, however, been sent to Parliament by the Parisians, with whom he is a great favourite, although an old man—a great defect in their estimation. A few years ago this gentleman went on a visit to a friend in the country, and his arrival was unexpected until an hour or two before his appearance. At dinner the host introduced a young man to Mr. Glais-Bezoin, begging him, as he had power at Court, to help this young man to procure a place

he was very desirous of getting. The young man greatly pleased Glais-Bezoin, and he said to him, "Prepare me a demand, and I will present it to the Minister." As he understood better how to form that demand than his protege" he dictated one to him that he was to copy and bring to him the next day. It so happened that a room had not been prepared for the guest, but he was put, for that night, into the one occupied by the governess, who had that same evening been called home very suddenly to see her mother, who had been taken very ill. Monsieur GlaisBezoin was comfortably in bed, when all at once he heard a noise at the window, and saw a human form enter it cautiously. "It is a thief," ihought he to himself, without stirring; "let us see what he is going to do." Very slowly and softly the form descended to the floor, and treading as lightly as any phantom could, approached the bed, and stooping harshly down, imprinted a passionate kiss on Mr. Glass- Bezoin's forehead, receiving in answer a wellapplied blow. The phantom could not suppress a cry of surprise as it flew to the [window and disappeared in an instant. "Oh, oh," thought the gentleman in bed, " I see Mdlle. Zoe" is not quite so innocent as I imagined; for the pretty governess had been noticed by the visitor for her charming modest air. He saw something drop from the pocket of the phantom as he escaped, and, being very curious to know who the visitor was, he got out of bed, lighted his candle, and picked up the very copy he had dictated to the young man recommended to l.im by his host. The next day when the gentleman came with as much of his demand copied as he had been able to remember Glais-Bezoin had him Bent up into his bed-room. The poor fellow then found out whom he had so passionately kissed instead of Mdlle. Zoe\ GlaisBezoin smiled at his embarrassment. "Here is your copy, that you let drop in your hurry last night," said he, "and I renew my promise to forward your views, only on one conditionthat you will marry Mdlle. Zoe'. The promise was warmly made, and, three months after, Mdlle. Zoe- was Madame S., and her husband in the desired place. He is now one of the first men in France; but my indiscretion must go no further.

General Baillencourt is just dead. In 1848 he was a young lieutenant, and being at the Tuileries when the Revolution broke out, and the nob assailed the palace with their cries, he endeavoured to pass through them. "Give us Guizot's head—Guizot's head!" vociferated they, surrounding him. "Guizot's head !" said he, coolly; "do you imagine that I have Guizot's head in my pocket?" The populace burst out laughing, and carried the lieutenant in triumph out of the palace-yard.

Since the Republicans are beginning to manifest their hopes and desires again, the bon mots on them circulate. Alphonse Karr says that a Republic will only be possible when there are no more Republicans. He also adds that every country would be perfect were it not for the inhabitants. But Monsieur Larochejaquelein's word is the most severe. He says that he will not declare all Republicans thieves, but he will declare that all thieves are Republicans.

What do you think of the following satire on doctors? The Chinese doctors are obliged to hang over their doors a lantern for each person that they kill. A European being at Pekin had his wife taken very ill one night. He set forth in quest of a physician. The number of lanterns hanging over every medical man's door so frightened him that, in despair, he was about returning home without a physician, deeming his

wife more likely to recover without one than with one. At last he caught sight of three solitary lanterns, and immediately rejoicing at his good luck requested their owner's attendance. The doctor went and prescribed for the sick-lady; the happy husband could not help expressing his delight to the doctor in having found so careful a physician—one who had only killed three persons during his medical career. "Alas 1" answered the doctor, " after all it is not extraordinary, as I only commenced practice this morning.

Milk compliments,

S.A.

LEAVES FOR THE LITTLE ONES.

THE WHITE KID.

BY MRS. M. C. JOHNSON.

Far away over the sea, in a mountainous country, a little boy named Rupert lived with his mother and grandmother. It was a strange, wild place where their cottage stood. Rocks surrounded it, and at a little distance gushed a waterfall, with sweet, rippling music. The father was a watchmaker, and he had left his family to travel on foot to Geneva, dispose of his watches, and procure a fresh supply of ma teiial. But he had been long away, and they thought he would never return. The path over the rocks was so dangerous it was no wonder they were troubled. They were poor, too: but they trusted in their Heavenly Father, and made his word the rule of their daily life. The grandmother spun and knitted, and in these simple ways the little family managed to get along and provide for the coming winter: but they sorely missed the kind father with his strong hands and loving heart.

One day, when Rupert was returning home with his basket and pail, having been to carry the milk and vegetables, he heard a faint bleat. It sounded like the lamb or kid. He stopped and listened. It came again, and seemed like a cry of distress. He thought a moment. It was near night, and he had some little distance yet to travel. He was hungry, too, and the warm oat-cake and bowl of new milk, which he well knew would be ready for him, tempted him to hurry home. But again the low, feeble cry reached his ears, and he would no longer hesitate. Every few moments he paused and listened for the sound, and, guided by that, he found a poor little kid, but two or three days old, standing beside its mother, licking her face

and bleating piteously. The goat seemed to be old, and probably had been hurt in some way.

Rupert took the kid in his arms. It was a beautiful little animal, white as snow. The old goat lived only a few minutes, and Rupert carefully retraced his way, carrying the kid. He found his basket and pail, and hastened home as fast as he could, lest his mother and grandmother should be anxious about him. They were at first surprised, but, when he had told his story, said he had done quite right.

The little kid was weak for a time, and needed the tender care and nursing it received. But it soon grew strong and healthy, and followed Rupert about like a dog. As the cold weather came on the kid slept at the foot of Rupert's bed, and she kept his feet warm all through the cold nights. He called her Snowflake, and loved her very much. After the kid had grown a good deal, a boy belonging to a wealthy family in the neighbourhood took a fancy to the little animal, and urged Rupert to sell her to him. Rupert refused, kindly but firmly.

The boy, Seigbert, was an only son, and had been so much indulged, so accustomed to have his own way, and get everything he asked for, that he became more selfish and overbearing every year. He was proud and ill-tempered, expecting all around him to yield to his will. He grew very angry when he found Rupert was resolved not to sell the kid, and tried repeat-: edly to entice the kid away, but to no purpose, then he attempted to set his dog on her as she was quietly grazing, but Rupart came in sight, and he was too much afraid of his strength and courage to do him an injury openly; but he laid a plan to hurt the kid, and slay it if he could. He contrived a snare or pitfall, which he cocovered with furze to conceal it from sight, and he hoped the kid would fall into it; but a day or two afterwards Rupert was searching carefully for some plants which grew wild in that region, and which his grandmother used to make a syrup for her cough, and discovered the whole thing. He had no doubt whose doing it was even before he found a cambric handkerchief marked with Seigbert's name in full, and which he had lost in his haste. Rupert, indignant, showed it to his mother, and told her all about it. She opened the Bible, and pointed to the words, "Do good to those that hates you."

"Very true, mother; but it seems hard to forgive that boy."

The next day Rupert returned the handkerchief to Seigbert: he took it in silence, feeling for once somewhat ashamed of himself, as he saw that Rupert could not fail to understand all his plot, though the latter made no allusion to it. Seigbert let him alone for a time, however, though it is doubtful whether he would not again have tried to injure him, but for an incident that occurred about three weeks afterwards.

One day Rupert was busy in the garden, when he heard a quick, sharp cry, as of terror or pain, and throwing down his tools, he hastened to the place from whence it came. Poor Seigbert had lost his footing, and had fallen over a precipice, but had caught a branch of a half-uprooted tree. He could have held on only a few moments, and would inevitably have gone down to utter destruction had no one come to his aid. Rupert instantly threw himself upon the ground, and bracing himself against a rock, called out in a cheering tone, as he grasped the branch to which Seigbert clung, '* Hold on! hold on with all your might! I'll pull you up!" It It was done, and Seigbert was safe.

There, on the ground, lay the two boys, side by side, for the one was exhausted through muscular effort, and the other through fright. Rupert was first to rise, and, going to the nearest spring, he filled the tin cup he always wore tied to his belt, and returned with it to Seigbert. The water refreshed them very much and Seigbert said, as he grasped Rupert's hand, "Forgive me! No, you have forgiven me. I will never harm you again I"

"But for you, mother," said Rupert, when he returned home, and told her all—" but for you perhaps I should not have tried to save him, for I knew I should risk my own life."

Seigbert, with his father and mother, same down to the cottage to express their gratitude, and offer a present. Tears streamed down the lady's face, as she said to Rupert's mother, "But for your boy I should have lost mine. Money can never pay for this, ; but we want to help you, and we shall always be your friends."

They offered to provide handsomely for the mother and grandmother, and to take Rupert and bring him up as their own. But the boy respectfully, yet firmly declined.

"Lady," he said, "these were the friends of

my infancy. You will not blame me that I cannot leave them."

"We do not blame you, my boy," said the gentleman. "You are right, doubtless; but you must not refuse us the privilege of helping you in some other way. We will try to think what is best. Always count us your friends."

"Mother," said Rupert, after they left, putting his arms around her, and leaning his head on her breast, " did I not tell you I would not exchange mothers?"

Not long after this, a poor man lost his way in this wild place. Night was coming on, and after trying in vain to find some landmark that he knew, he became quite bewildered, "What shall I do?" he said aloud. "I thought I knew all this path. What has become of my home? Shall I find all as I left it? God help me! Mayhap it was a rash act to leave them so, but I thought soon to better their lot. And not a word have I had of them all these months! God pity me!" he said again.

A beautiful, snow-white kid sprang out from some furze, close beside him, and as she leaped along the rugged path, a strange impulse to follow her came over him. He could not account for it, but the feeling was so strong that he went after her as fast as he could, thinking that as he was completely at a loss to find his way, he might as well try her course as any other direction, and it might be providentially designed to lead him to some habitation. Can you guess my 6tory now? The snow-white kid was the same Rupert had rescued, and the wanderer his father, guided thus to his home.

And now for the reason of his long absence.

He arrived safely in Geneva, but instead of selling his watches there, and returning immediately, as he had been accustomed to do, he was offered very liberal pay if he would go to America in a ship just ready to leave port, and carry a large number of watches which had been ordered by houses in New York and Philadelphia. He was known to be thoroughly trustworthy, and the Geneva merchant desired very much to secure his services. He accepted the offer, and wrote to his wife, giving all the reasons for his long absence, and telling her when he hoped to return. But he could not, of course, go home before the ship would sail, and he must accept the chance when it was offered.

This letter, however, failed of its destination. Afterwards the opportunities for writing were few, and for some reason no word reached his family. He fulfilled the trust placed in him, gave entire satisfaction to his employer, received his pay, and returned safe and well, only troubled by anxiety in regard to his family. This was soon displaced by grateful joy.

Seigbert's father offered to build to new cottage for the Van Shalie family, but they thought it quite likely that after a few years they should go to America. They lived on much as before, though with many more comforts, as long as the old grandmother remained. Not a word was ever said to her about removal, for they knew it would be hard for her to leave the old place.

OUR LIBRARY TABLE

On our Library Table we have "The AniMal World—a Monthly Advocate of Humanity, emanating from the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. The first number of this journal was issued in October last, the consecutive numbers fully sustaining the promise held out by their predecessor. Replete with interesting matters, anecdotes, and amusing incidents, much valuable information is interspersed throughout its pages, admirably executed woodcuts, forming appropriating illustrations. The paper is toned, the type is excellent, and the price but a couple of pence. We earnestly wish success to the praiseworthy enterprise, hoping it may meet with a widelyextended circulation amongst various sections of society, and would strongly advocate its being dissemminated gratuitously in those districts, whither ten ns, villages, or hamlets, where pence and literature are equally scarce—

"Evil is wrought by want of thought
As well as want of heart."

Even where the ameliorating influences of education are presumed to exist (and how infinitely more is wrought in the absence of those influences we can partially conceive) cruelty, it is to be feared, is a paramount evil. "The Animal World" is published by S. W. Partridge and Co., 9, Paternosterrow, and at the Offices of the Society, 105, Jermyn-street.

Country Walks Of A Naturalist With His Children.—By the Rev. W. Houghton.— (Groombridge 8f Sons, Paternoster Row.)—The uature-love, common to children, will find direction and sympathetic teaching in the elegant volume before us. It is full of delightful information; touching field-flowers, birds, insects and animals—just the information calculated to induce young people to examine for themselves, and raise in them a desire to increase their knowledge of their wondrous book of nature—"that universal and publick manuscript" (as Sir Thomas Browne calls it), "that lies expanded unto the eyes of all." No study can be more healthful, no amusement more innocent, no taste more elevating or refined. Its objects lie around us, and even in towns are within easy compass, and the taste, once inspired, lasts for life. Such objects had charms for the Divine Teacher himself, who chose to take his most touching and loveliest illustrations from them -" Behold the fowls of the air;" "Consider the lilies of the field," "Asa hen gathereth her chickens," &c, and other allusions, show how truly the love and observation of nature made a part of His own. The Rector of Preston, on the Wildmoors, Shrop

shire, had charming facilities for making acquaintance with the subjects his pleasant volume treats of. The fields, the pools, the rivers and the moors, all contributed to the filling of these pages, and to the instruction and amusement of himself and children. We are glad to see that he is the friend of small birds and of the mole, and even of weasels; which he thinks it is often a mistake to destroy, though he allows that they occasionally catch a young rabbit or a leveret, and suck a few partridge eggs; but the common food of the weasel consists of small animals, such as mice, moles, rats, and small birds. "In wheat or grain-ricks," he adds, "they ought to be encouraged, as they enter them for the sake of the rats and mice they find there. I have been told by a friend of mine that in some parts of Wales the farmers look upon the weasel as a friend, in consideration of the destruction it causes to rats and mice!" Mr Houghton even enlarges on the good that frogs and toads do for us in destroying quantities of slugs and injurious insects. Here is a story of a tame frog, who made his appearance in the underground kitchen of a gentleman's house at Kingston upon Thames:

The servants (wonderful to say) showed him kindness, and gave him food. One would rather have expected that they would have uttered loud shrieks of terror, and fainted away at the unexpected sight. Curiously enough, during the winter season, when frogs, as a rule, are lying asleep at the bottom of a pool, this frog used to come out of his hole and seek a snug place near the kitchen fire, where he would continue to bask and enjoy himself till the servants retired to rest; and, more curious still, this frog got remarkably fond of a favourite old cat, and used to nestle under the warm fur of Mrs. Pussy; she in the meantime showing she did not in the least object to Mr. Frog's presence.

Mr. Houghton tells many wonderful things of the insect denizens of pool and pond, as well as of those of the fields and hedgerows : of the snail-leech, that sets like a hen upon her eggs; of the hydra, that germinates like a plant, and will bear to be turned inside out, and if cut into pieces becomes so many perfect animals; of fish that build nests and carry their young-ones in their mouths, and of another that is furnished with a pouch, in which the father-fish carries his young family when tired of swimming about. The book is very prettily bound and illustrated, and beautifully printed on toned paper, with gilt edges. At this season of kind remembrances it appears very appropriately as a gift-book.

?HBBME,c=EPK>^^Hon.Mr8.Ward. —These are twin volumes by the same author,

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