inevitable term of probation. We were, we thought, rather young than otherwise: at least, we should not be beyond a marriageable age in two years; and then, with my diploma as my ægis, and our mutual patience and long suffering as our best advocate, I should-having easily won my honoured parent's approbation present myself to Miss Peckham as a suitor, long-affianced, for the fair hand of her favourite niece, Jennie Martin. Under these auspices we felt success was sure! And the noble sacrifices we had made to win it would render that success tenfold sweeter, and our subsequent happiness tenfold more enduring and complete! The argument was rational, the plan was most admirable, the resolution to abide by it most praiseworthy! But, alas! "The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men, Gang aft agleg!" We had omitted-no, we had not foreseen-one obstacle. One absurd and insignificant trifle we had overlooked, or rather had not been prescient of (how could we be so ?), which, like the grain of sand in the marksman's eye, was destined to divert our hymeneal shaft far wide of the mark we aimed at. We had reckoned without Miss Peckham's parrot! Though my first emotions of anger toward the parrot had subsided, after hearing the explanation of his apparently strange and unprovoked assault upon my private character, yet I could not bring myself to hear, with entire indifference or equanimity, his daily and hourly reiteration of the announcement that "Philip was a villain." It began to annoy me exceedingly, especially as the infernal bird seemed to know when I was within ear-shot, and to repeat, with particular and malicious emphasis, his monologue on these occasions. It pursued me up and down stairs; it interrupted me in my medical readings; it greeted my exits and my entrances; it rang weirdly through the pauses of my sleep, until it finally fairly haunted me. When I reflect upon the stoicism with which, for Jennie's sake, I bore the daily torture of that demoniac parrot's persecution for four whole months, I cannot refrain from retrospectively contemplating myself with an admiration bordering upon awe! But there is a limit to everything, except eternity and feminine controversy, and I, at last, reached that of my endurance. I reached it the sooner perhaps though, Heaven knows, it held out wonderfully !-from the lack of sympathy I experienced in my martyrdom. With the exception of Jennie, I met, in fact, with none at all. Mr. Podder thought the coincidence a capital joke; and when I remonstrated with him on his callousness, he repeated his former offensive request with reference to the character of my behaviour, which I have quoted previously in mentioning my confidence to him on the subject of Miss Jennie. Several of the other members of the family, also, took the liberty to rally me impertinently about it, occasionally; and when I appealed to Miss Peckham herself to abate the nuisance, she indignantly replied that "I should make a pretty doctor, if I was to be made nervous by a parrot's talk, and that it would be well for me if I didn't live to deserve Polly's accusation myself, some of these days, after all!" This unexpected piece of brutality on the part of Miss Peckham, combined with the other aggravations above-mentioned, and with the fact that the lectures were on the eve of closing, and I of returning home to spend the summer, wrought me up to a desperate alternative, which I as desperately resolved to force, by moral suasion, upon my beloved Jennie. This was nothing less than a runaway match between us. I put the case to her, forcibly, somewhat thus: "My dearest girl," said I, "this thing cannot possibly go on any longer in this manner. Our case-my case, certainly--is desperate, and we must resort to a desperate remedy. To live another season in the house with that atrocious parrot is beyond the physical and mental power of mortal Philip. I should become a hopeless lunatic in three months, more or less. I am now obliged to leave you for a protracted absence of at least two months, perhaps even longer. When I return, if I ever return-for who can foresee the future?-I must seek another home if that abominable bird still lives. We shall thus be separated, and, knowing the cause of my secession from her household, your aunt will not make me a welcome visitor, even to her hearth. I have quarrelled with Mr. Podder, and cut most of the other members of the family on that bird's account, so that I shall have no excuse whatever for coming here. Is not this a harrowing prospect, dearest? Your sobs confess that it is! Well, then, what alternative is left us? Only one of two, and of these two one is, certainly, of very doubtful promise. They are either for you, during my absence, to assassinate the parrot; or for you to consent to be my own darling little wife before I go, and to go with me in that delightful character! Don't you see it thus, my beloved girl?" Yes; but you dare not, indeed you dare not leave my aunt in such-at suchwithout ?"- 'Then, idol of my heart, murder the bird !" "Oh no, no! I never, never could do such a horrid thing?" "I don't in the least think you could, dearest; and so let us fly together from persecution and tyranny to, love and happiness! When we have left this hateful roof, when the holy man has united us in the blissful bonds of matrimony, we will seek my country home, and fling ourselves at my good father's feet. He will frown, perhaps, for a moment; but the next he will have seen your face made lovelier by your tears, and he will fold you to his heart as his accepted daughter!" 66 I went on in this eloquent style for a long time, I believe, and, naturally, I was victorious. Polly's fate trembled in the balance at one time; but at last the brighter, less cruel, more romantic alternative won the day, and Jennie consented to fly with me to the secret altar! As to Miss Peckham herself, she went to bed regularly at half-past ten o'clock, first turning down the gas-jets in each hall and passage-way, to about the size and shape of the ace of spades, and locking up the silver in the store-room, together with everything eatable in the house, except the raw meat (which is not eatable in that state, in temperate latitudes), and a plate of hard crackers, which always stood on the sideboard, but were never regarded in the light of edibles by any member of the family save the parrot. As a very respectable number of writers have | or too late for the probability of such an acci depicted real or fictitious lover's feelings under dent. similar circumstances, I will content myself with observing that, though I was resolved, and felt no coward wishes to back out or postpone the gallant adventure, yet, somehow or other, I occasionally had a sort of vague doubt as to whether I was acting in a strictly honourable and magnanimous way toward Miss Peckham, or Mr. Kent senior, or even toward my dear Jennie. And these shadowy feelings seemed to come over me more particularly during the intervals immediately following one of the parrot's usual exclamations in my hearing. Had there been a longer period of suspense before the fated moment was to arrive, I am not sure that these feelings would not have grown into a distinctness sufficient to have prevented the enterprise. But the flight was to take place the following night, when the household should be buried in slumber, and the modus operandi (excuse the professional phrase) was to be-and was, to a certain point-as follows. If the combination appears puerile and extravagant, the reader will remember the youth and very limited experience of the parties. It was known to be my intention to depart by the early morning train of the next day. I proposed to leave, in fact, by that train, but I going only to the first station, to return to the city by the next train passing. I would devote the day to finding a proper clergyman, and making other preparations, and at exactly midnight would let myself in to Miss Peckham's house with the latch-key (which I kept for the purpose), as, owing to the sex of her boarders, Miss P.'s front-door was not locked at night. I would then proceed quietly to Jennie's room (a small, quite small one, at the head of the second flight of stairs), and, taking possession of her light luggage, we would both, with equal quietness, leave the house. A carriage would be waiting not far off, which should take us to a distant hotel, where rooms had already been engaged for a gentleman and his sister, under a feigned name. Here we were to remain as brother and sister till morning, whence at a very early hour we would proceed to the altar, and thence by the first train to my father's country residence, for his pardon and blessing, in the genuine (dramatic) runaway style. This seemed to promise certain and easy success. For, even should I be heard in entering Miss Peckam's, or in going up or down stairs, it would excite no suspicion, but be supposed to be one or other of the gentlemen of the family, whose exits and entrances were irregular, and often tardy, and nobody would open his or her door to see which especial gentleman it was. The only danger we ran-it seemed to us-was from the possible bond-fide entrance or exit of some one of the gentlemen referred to, and this we were forced to run, relying upon the protection of luck and Cupid. It was but a remotely possible danger, however, we felt confident, owing to the hour, which was either too early To assert that I was perfectly self-possessed, and thoroughly serene in mind, as I slid my latchkey into Miss Peckham's street-door, with a somewhat tremulous hand on that fateful night at the appointed hour, would be to-to -in short, to exaggerate. I was not so! In fact, looking re- and introspectively from this distance of time, upon the state of my inner being on that momentous occasion, I fancy my feelings were not wholly dissimilar to those which a really felonious person (whom I rather resembled than otherwise in my outward demeanour) might rationally experience in a like crisis. In spite of my conflicting emotions, however, entered the house, closed the door, and proceeded slowly and firmly upstairs. The firmness diminished, and the rapidity of my gait proportionably increased, as I approached Miss Peckham's chamber; but, with the exception of what seemed to me a stunning clamour, produced by the throbbing in my breast, I passed that dread portal in safety and silence. In another instant Jennie and I stood together on the upper landing, and after a terrible moment, devoted to gathering our mutual courage into a sort of concentrated form, we began to descend. The silence was positively oppressive. Not even a stair creaked, though upon ordinary occasions they were all much given to that style of remonstrance. The beating of our own two hearts was, absolutely, all the sound we heard. We gained the last stair in front of Miss Peckham's apartment; a few more steps, and life, liberty, and the pursuit of happinessunder difficulty, I admit-would be ours; when, at that awful crisis, the solemn silence was suddenly and fearfully broken by a deep, guttural, but terribly distinct voice, exclaiming, as if in our very ears- -"Phil-ip, you're a villain! Phil-ip! Phil-ip! PHIL-IP!! you're a villain! you're a villain!" The effect was immediate and disastrous. I started back, tripped on the stair, and, to save myself, dropped Jennie's portmanteau, which struck with a horrible rattle against the banisters. Poor Jennie, utterly unmanned (perhaps I should say unwomaned) by this unexpected terror, was unable to repress a quick cry, though, the instant after it escaped her, she clasped both hands over her mouth, and shrank down in a heap on the step. Ere either of us recovered a vulgar fraction of assurance, Miss Peckham's door opened, like a trap in a theatre, and that lady appeared in its dark frame, draped in ghostly white, her eyes in a wild frenzy rolling, and brandishing a glittering weapon-whlch turned out to be the fire-shovel-in her weird right hand! At the same time the street-door closed sharply, and, almost simultaneously, the burly form of Mr. Podder was added to the awful tableau; while, from within the sepulchral gloom of the white apparition's chamber, the deep, angry voice continued to issue, denonncing the villany of the unhappy Philip! The conversation-to put it mildly-that ensued, it is really beyond my power to transcribe. I can conscientiously assert, however, that it was exceedingly animated, and also that it lacked an essential element of polite intercourse, namely, harmony. But its results may be briefly and comprehensively summed up as follows: First. The retirement of Miss Peckham and Jennie into the former lady's boudoir. Second. My own retreat-which was not quite so dignified nor brilliantly conducted as I could have wished, owing, chiefly, to the officious impertinence of Mr. Podder-and a little to a similar meddlesome disposition on the part of an inconvenient somebody or something, often called the inward monitor. Thirdly. A challenge to that gentleman (Mr. Podder, not the monitor), which was treated with what I then regarded as the silence of pusillanimity. Fourthly. A decidedly unpleasant interview with Mr. Kent senior, which terminated in the discovery, by that somewhat peremptory gentleman, that I was afflicted with a malady, for which a protracted sea-voyage would be of unquestionable benefit. Fifthly. The said sea-voyage, and, I am bound to own, a consequent triumph of my father's medical judgment. And, lastly, the rooted antipathy in my sentiments-as expressed in the beginning of this sketch-toward all and every variety of the genus Parrot! used by Plato), to that very distasteful one of M. de Maistre, the animal! fie! Near my bedside stood the dear doctor, his eyes upon the second hand of his watch, his fingers upon my pulse, counting its beatings, I stood watching, then, while they were perconstantly growing more and more slow and forming the necessary duties to my body. feeble. I felt his interrogating touch ascending Saddened by the spectacle-for one cannot the length of my arm. With an effort I half-break off suddenly the connexion of a life-time opened my eyes, and saw him, his brow contracted as if absorbed in deep thought, give a negative sign of the head. Then I heard suppressed sobs in my chamber. "It is all over !" I said to myself, and sunk into unconsciousness. Yes, it was all over; I had just died. How was it that a moment afterward I was standing near the window, with folded arms, contemplating that lifeless, rigid object extended before me, and repeating to myself: "It is all over!" And if not with perfect composure, it was at least without any lively emotion that I stood a witness of all those cares, henceforth so useless, lavished upon what had been myself, or rather, that part of myself which M. Xavier de Maistre designates under a vile name. without a pang of regret at the moment of separation-I left the chamber, passing and repassing through the house without the least echo of my steps upon the inlaid floors or through the corridors. My domestics had already begun to lay violent hands upon various little articles which had belonged to me. Possibly, having little confidence in my testamentary disposals, they were only thinking to secure some sacred souvenir of their master. I did not disturb them, and moved by a sentiment of curiosity, a little untimely perhaps, I passed into the street, without any need, thanks to my immateriality, of a porter's services to give me egress. I do not pretend to imply here that the mysterious personage, standing upright and attentive in a niche in that chamber of death, was the soul of the deceased; let us not trifle with such deep words. But I had dwelt in it as it now dwelt in me; I was not its soul, I was what the ancients would have called its simulacre. On examination, everything tended to sub-curred. And yet I was dead! stantiate my identity; I had preserved the form, the exact appearance of l'autre. I much prefer this appellation, "l'autre" (which besides is It was a fine day; the heavens were blue, the sun was shining brightly, and, what struck me with astonishment at every step, the whole Parisian population wore their accustomed physiognomy; all were engaged in their ordinary occupations, duties, and pleasures. One would have said that nothing extraordinary had oc True, the evening journals had not yet made the event public. I paid a visit to some of my friends; a dan gerous test, since there was nothing to reveal my presence to them. It was espionage of the highest school. Like the sun and the population of Paris, they were all pursuing their daily avocations, neither gayer nor sadder than on the previous day. Doubtless, they had not yet received the fatal funeral invitation. The next day the horizon was beclouded, the sun scarcely showed its face, the wind seemed to moan in the angles of the streets, a few drops of rain sprinkled the pavements. Paris, on that day, was really wearing an air of concern at least, so I judged. The passers-by walked more staidly, with a more contemplative mien, and I noticed that many of them were dressed in black, or wore crape upon their hats. "The journals, not only those of last evening, but those of this morning also, have spread the news," said I to myself. As I spoke, I saw an individual unfold his paper, examine it, then drop his hand suddenly and cast to heaven a look of reproach. forced to reply (all modesty set aside this time) that the affair must be regarded, after all, in the light of a national mourning. When the hearse passed before my eyes, new astonishment! Not only was there an enormous crown of laurel, interwoven with leaves of gold, surmounting it, but there were also decorations of all kinds, French and foreign, constellating one of the extremities of the pall. For an instant I fancied there must be some misunderstanding; this magnificent funeral cortége had undoubtedly mistaken the address to which it had been directed, and had come to bear me off, instead of the high dignitary for whom it was intended. But presently I heard them relating all around me that these honorary distinctions had been voted me immediately on the spread of the rumour of my approaching end. Besides, my chiffre shone resplendently from the escutcheon of the principal carriage, as also from that of the other carriages. But the end of my surprises was not yet come. One striking fact penetrated me with the proudest emotions, by revealing to me what part I had played, all unwittingly, in cotemporary literature. The four cordons of the hearse were borne by Lamartine, Emile Angier, repre I had no doubt I saw before me one of those precious, unknown friends, who set more value upon us, our works, and our glory than our most intimate friends, who are liable to grow envious and irritable by association with a superiority which renders their deficiencies conspicuous by contrast. I approached that excel-senting dramatic literature, the permanent seclent man, that noble heart; just then I heard him cry aloud: "Always on the decline!" I cast a glance upon the journal; it bore no sombre border, such as is customary on days of national mourning, and yet! Turning my eye to the column of amusements, it rested there a moment by force of habit. Not a theatre had closed, and yet! With a mechanical step and pitiful mien I directed my course towards my dwelling, when suddenly there burst upon my sight a spectacle calculated to compensate me amply for all the trifling mortifications inflicted upon my vanity as a defunct. Black, long, long, thick, innumerable, silent, stationed upon the pavement, obstructing the sidewalk, extending even to the court-yard gate, barring the carriage way, surging like the waves of the sea, there stood a crowd, filling every nook from one end of the street to the other, in the court, high and low in the house, in the stairways, in the apartments! A magnificent hearse, drawn by six horses caparisoned in black and silver, stood before the gate. Great was my surprise, I confess; I was nearly suffocated with modesty. My modesty was about to be subjected to a very different proof! The cortège started on its way, and I perceived a host of police officers charged with maintaining order; a company of soldiers headed by a band of music led off the march, while the rear was closed by a squadron of the municipal guard in full uniform. In asking myself what all these military honours were worth to me, a poet, I was retary of the French Academy and the President of the Society of the Gens de Lettres. Men the most eminent in science and the arts, and my ex-confrères, the most distinguished writers of all styles, did not scorn to mingle in that throng; black, black, long, thick, innumerable, silent, which wended its way slowly along. And the heavens, grey and sombre, seemed also to have donned their habiliments of mourning. All heads in that multitude were bowed, and the chromatic notes of the brass instruments mingled dolorously with the dull, heavy beatings of the muffled drums. Every moment new comers swelled the cortége; in a thoughtless moment I also joined the crowd; I became one of that dense throng. After all, had I any reason to feel chagrined at the figure I was cutting there? More fortunate than Charles the Fifth-thanks to my invisibility-I could participate in my own funeral obsequies without any necessity for dissimula tion. When we debouched upon the Boulevard, an immense multitude lined its sides; the shops and cafés were hidden by estrades loaded with spectators; at the windows and on the balconies were groups of beautiful ladies dressed in deep mourning; at the approach of the body of the deceased the ladies showered offerings of flowers, and the gentlemen bared their heads, and I (such a thing probably never before occurred to a defunct) in my confusion returned their salutations. In the midst of my embarrassment, however, I thought I perceived a sort of little ball, of a purple colour, rolling and bounding around the hearse. On examining it more closely, I discovered that it had a semblance of hands and feet and a little flat head, a kind of fingers, the whole causing scarcely any deviation from its spherical form. It was a sort of little red man, a deformed dwarf. What was he doing there? He continued to roll over and over by the side and in front of the hearse. Then I heard him utter shrieking cries and bursts of mocking laughter; but this, however, did not, in any way, interfere with the general solemnity. I know not why I thought of those insulteurs gages of ancient Rome attacking illustrious men during triumphal ceremonies. I was astonished that he was thus allowed to execute his grotesque pranks, which he carried even beneath the feet of the horses at great risk of tripping them; but no one noticed him. Could he be, like me, invisible, and seen and heard only by myself. After continuing to advance for an hour, the cortége entered upon the less densely populated, as also the less aristocratic portion of the Boulevard. The estrades had necessarily disappeared, and the balconies were far from presenting their groups of lovely women bathed in tears. A shower of flowers no longer fell from the windows. The men still appeared with uncovered heads; but I was so distracted by the cries and gambols of that furious little dwarf, that I neglected to respond to their salutations. Wearied with heat and fatigue, some of the company lagged behind; others had abandoned the escort altogether. As we approached the common districts, desertions became more frequent. Some persons love to figure only before spectators worthy of them. Suddenly the grey clouds which had hung over our heads obscured the sky; a shower of rain succeeded, which had the effect of diminishing still more the numbers of the cortége. The martial music, the brass instruments and muffled drums were no longer heard, and the hearse (I noticed the fact with stupefying amazement) was drawn by only four horses. I was looking around for the cause when I perceived the little red man perched upon one of the missing steeds, and leading the other by the bridle, taking both away and laughing louder than ever one of his diabolical laughs. It seemed to me that he had grown three feet. The police officers and the illustrious bearers of the cordons still maintained their posts, and if the rear of the cortège, still imposing, was no longer, as an hour previously, black, black, long, thick, innumerable, silent, I had the satisfaction of thinking that the indifferent, the curious, the loungers, ever so ready to follow in the popular current, alone had detached themselves, and that the value of the remainder was enhanced by this desertion. But I was still more surprised at the disappearance of a part of our horses when, on quitting the Boulevard, we came upon an abrupt, pebbly ascent, furrowed with ruts and escarpments, in which the hearse was in great danger of being overturned or buried. Several times the procession was compelled to come to a dead halt. During one of these stoppages the cursed dwarf returned, and not only detached two other horses, but, still worse, scaling the hearse with strong grimaces and contortions, he gave the laurel-crown such a shake that its entire golden foliage was scattered to the four winds. * ** A powerless witness of these sacrilegious acts, I veiled my face. I know not how long a time passed when I looked round me again, the road, more hilly and broken, seemed like a desert land; the cortége, wonderfully thinned, had lost all its regularity; many hats had resumed their wonted position; the people were marching here and there in groups, regardless of order, and talking of business and other matters. I gained the head of the column ** Misery! The laurel crown, the French and foreign decorations, the escutcheon on the hearse, the waving plumes, the police officers, the permanent secretary of the Academy, the President of the Society of Gens de Lettres, the members of an infinite number of learned and literary societies, the show, the pomp, the glorification of the cortége, all had disappeared as if by necromancy. There remained as an escort to l'autre only a faithful few, the endurers unto the end, when finally the gates of the great necropolis were opened before us. Then, I must confess, my disenchantment was succeeded by a moment of very sweet emotions. My old friends, those whom death had gathered first in his harvest (and they were many), all hastened to meet me, welcoming me with transports of joy. They made merry over my arrival; but while yielding to my delight at meeting them again, my thoughts recurred to the loved ones left behind, and my eyes filled with tears. They, doubtless, participating no longer in human weaknesses, rallied me upon my attachment to the other world. 66 Mourning over yourself!" said they; and to make me ashamed of it they set up a boisterous laughter. At this, which the dead alone could hear, a multitude of graves half-opened, and new bursts of laughter issued from them. The cemetery appeared to me very gay that night! However, while abandoning myself to the revival of old affections, I recollected l'autre, and the last duties I had yet to fulfil towards it. Besides, I had no disinclination to hear the oration which was about to be pronounced over it. I took leave of my old friends; but it was now night, and the heavens were black; I was utterly powerless to find my way, and was groping helplessly about when I felt a touch upon my shoulder. I turned, and recognized, thanks to the sparkling of his eyes, which shone in the centre of his purple visage like a pair of carbuncles, the little red man. They are waiting for you," said he, in a voice which sounded like a cracked bell; "follow me!" I followed him, |