tutelary patronage. "In several convents," he adds, "it was customary, on the Eve of St. Nicholas, for the board ers to place each a silk stocking at the door of the apartment of the abbess, with a piece of paper inclosed, recommending themselves to 'Great St. Nicholas of her chamber; and the next day they were called together to witness the Saint's attention, who never failed to fill the stockings with sweetmeats, and other trifles of that kind, with which these credulous virgins made a general feast." A correspondent in Hone's Every Day Book gives the following account of the curious customs (of which he was an eye-witness) connected with St. Nicholas' Eve, in Holland. "Imagine," he says, "a group of happy youngsters sporting around the domestic hearth, in all the buoyancy of riotous health and spirits, brim-full of joyous expectation, but yet, in an occasional pause, casting frequent glances towards the door, with a comical expression of impatience, mixed up with something like dread of the impending event. At last, a loud knock is heard; in an instant the games are suspended, and the door slowly unfolding, reveals to sight the venerated Saint himself, arrayed in his pontificals, with pastoral staff and jewelled mitre. Methinks I see him now! yet he did his spiriting gently,' and his tone of reproof was more in sorrow than in anger!' In fine, the family peccadillos being tenderly passed over, and the more favourable reports made the subject of due encomiums, good Father Nicholas gave his parting benediction, together with the promise, (never known to fail,) of more substantial benefits to be realized on the next auspicious morning! So ends the first act of the farce, which it will be readily anticipated is got up with the special connivance of papa and mama, by the assistance of some family friend, who is quite au fait to the domestic politics of the establishment. The concluding scene, however, is one of unalloyed pleasure to the delighted children, and is thus arranged:-Before retiring to rest, each member of the family deposits a shoe on a table in a particular room, which is carefully locked, and the next morning is opened in the presence of the assembled household; when, lo! by the mysterious agency (doubtless) of the munificent Saint, the board is found covered with bon bons, toys, and trinkets. It may not be deemed irrelevant to add, that, on the anniversary, the confectioners' shops display their daintiest inventions, and are gaily lighted up and ornamented for public exhibition, much in the same way as at Paris on the first day of the new year." All the above customs appear to have originated in imitation of a practice of St. Nicholas, who, it is related, used in the night time to throw purses in at the windows of poor maidens, for their marriage portions. | been printed in the Proceedings of the Institute, lately published; and our purpose is to present to the reader divested of certain minute and literal evidence, the Mr. Smirke's ingenious conjectures and conclusions, omission of which will not affect a reply to the popular question-"What is King Arthur's Round Table?" It appears that, in 1788, Dr. Milner published in the Gentleman's Magazine some papers on the antiquities of Winchester, containing a statement that the celebrated in 1522, when it was for the last time newly painted; Round Table was shown to Charles V. at Winchester, and that it had been reported to be the genuine table of Arthur as early as the twelfth century, having been seen by John Lesley, Bishop of Ross, in 1137. Subsequently, Dr. Milner corrected this statement by altering the date of 1137 to 1539; also by adding, that of the Emperor's visit, and that the present one was the Table was for the first time painted on the occasion probably the work of King Stephen. Mr. Smirke correctively adds that the Bishop assigns no date to his visit, but merely informs us that he had seen the Table "not long before" he wrote his book, which is dated 1578. The passage shows that the names of Arthur's knights were then inscribed on the circumference of the Table. Mr. Smirke is not aware of any distinct reference to this Table before the reign of Henry VI. or Edward IV., when the poetic historian, Hardyng, who lived in both reigns, alludes to the Table of Arthur as "hanging yet" at Winchester; but it is somewhat unfortunate for the history of the table that the verse which mentions it is dyng. Giovio, usually called Paulus Jovius, in a passage not to be found in the earliest manuscript copy of Harreferred to in Warton's Description of Winchester, in forms us that the Table was shown to Charles V. on his then recent visit to Winchester; but that the marginal names, having been corroded by decay, had been restored unskilfully, and with so little respect for the impair its character of genuineness. Jovius is, for vavenerable antiquity of the original work, as almost to rious reasons, not likely to have been himself at Winchester during the visit of the Emperor in 1522, yet his account is probably correct; for the Table had certainly been repaired not long before that year; as we learn from the entry in the foreign accounts of Henry VIII., of 66. 16s. 11d. for the repair of the "aula regis infra cas trum de Wynchestre et le Round Tabyll ibidem." A Spanish writer, who was present at the marriage of Philip and Mary, is the first Mr. Smirke knows of who describes, or intends to describe, with some minuteness, the painting on this Table; the author is Diego de Vero, and the passage, in a MS. in the Royal Library at Madrid, is as follows: "Lors du mariage de Philip II. avec la reine Marie, on montrait encore à Hunscrit la table ronde fabriquée par Merlin: elle se composait de 25 compartemens teintés en blanc, et en vert, lesquels se terminaient en pointe au milieu, et allaient s'élargissant, jusqu'à la circonférence, appelé place de Judas, ou siège périlleux, restait toujours vide." The description is certainly not quite accurate, unless the painting has been altered since; and the name of Hunscrit is a greater departure from the orthography of the word Winchester or Hamp shire, than is usually permitted even to a foreign writer. Yet, when it is recollected that the occasion on which the writer saw it was an event which certainly took place THE TRUE HISTORY OF THE ROUND TABLE in Winchester, can it be doubted that he spake of this AT WINCHESTER. Hall and Table? To what period the identical names now on it are to CONSPICUOUSLY upon the interior eastern wall of the be referred, Mr. Smirke leaves those to decide whose County Hall, at Winchester, hangs the celebrated Painted critical acquaintance with the cycle of the Round Table Table of King Arthur, the true history of which has Romances will enable them to state the source from long been a quæstio vexata with antiquaries. However, which the names are borrowed. But there is no doubt last year, when the Archæological Institute met in the that, whatever retouching it may have undergone, time-honoured city of Winchester, one of the leading (especially in the royal figure, which Mr. Smirke believes to have been repainted within the time of living members of that Association read a very interesting in-memory,) the form of the letters, and general decoquiry into this very popular object of antiquity. This paper, from the pen of Mr. Edward Smirke, has rations of the Table, even if we had no extrinsic evi dence, would indicate a date not later, nor much earlier, than the reign of Henry VIII. It was then that the black letter, approaching the time of its disappearance from inscriptions and architectural legends, began to grow fanciful and extravagant in its forms. We may here interpolate, that the Table consists of a circle, divided into twenty-five green and white compartments, radiating from the centre, which is a large double rose. In the middle of the upper half of the eircle, resting upon the rose, and extending to the double edge, is a canopied niche, in which is painted a regal figure, bearing the orb and sword, and wearing the royal crown: this is reputed to represent King Arthur; and the modern reparations in the rose and the crown have been attempts, with more or less success, to adhere to the original design. Around the centre rose is a circle inscribed with black letter, except where it is broken by the base of the niche and the sitting king. There are also names inscribed on six of the white compartments, as well as in the circle around the compartments, of which, however, this circle is rather a continuation, in colour and form corresponding to the several divisions, each bearing a name. Aubrey, by the way, reports that, in his time, the name of Sir Gawain was in the "limbe" of the Round Table in the " Castle Hall." Ashmole, in his History of the Order of the Garter, published shortly after the Restoration, speaks of the Table as having "no show of antiquity," and as having been "broken to pieces (being before half ruined through age) by the Parliament's soldiers in the beginning of the late war." If Ashmole's account be literally true, the identity of the Table is in danger, and we must assign a very late date both to the fabric and the superficial embellishment; but it would seem that he spoke carelessly, and from report only. Still, whatever be the date of this identical Table and its paintings, there is reason to think that, if it be not substantially one transmitted to us from the first renovation of the Hall by Henry III., it is, at all events, a Table of ancient lineage, the surviving representative of avery venerable work of art which once occupied its place. Mr. Smirke adds, that, having met with the entry in the Chancellor's roll, 20 Henry III. of the "Rota Fortune," which had then been painted in the gable of the Hall at Winchester, towards the east, he was strongly impressed with the opinion that this wheel of fortune was the predecessor of Arthur's Table; and when he found among the Liberati rolls of the same reign, in the Tower of London, a commission by the king to paint a mappa mundi" in the same Hall, it occurred to Mr. Smirke that an order to delineate a chart of the world had been figuratively executed by painting an emblem of its vicissitudes. The pagan goddess was, indeed, a favourite with our Christian ancestors, and familiar to them long before this Hall was built; and the form has been correctly described as 66 a large wheel, with a crowned female in the centre, some rising, others falling from it." There are also various examples of it in churches, both at home and abroad. The conversion of such a wheel into the subject now painted on the Round Table, was obvious and easy: Fortune, by a revolution of her own wheel, might have been deposed, and Arthur made to reign in her stead. Unfortunately for this theory, Mr. Smirke found, on examination, that the order to paint the map of the world was issued three years, at least, after the Wheel of Fortune had been painted. It is, therefore, clear that, though this wheel may have been the foundation | of the present picture, it could not have been painted in pursuance of the order to execute a "mappa mundi." In what form, then, was this second order complied with? and where is the "mappa mundi" to be found? A recent publication of the Camden Society appears, at first sight, to supply an answer to these questions. In the Thornton romance of Sir Degrevaunt, we are told that, in consequence of his valour and merit, he was made by King Arthur a Knight of the Round Table; and the poet vouches the "mappa mundi" in proof of the fact : "For thy they name hear that stounde A knight of tabulle round, As maked is the mappe mound In storye full ryght." The Editor of the romance is inclined to consider the allusion here to the mappe mound" as "altogether fanciful;" and it certainly is extremely obscure, unless the expression has a much wider import than that of a geographical chart or map, in the usual sense of the word. The Editor, however, has himself noticed an example of its use in the larger sense of a written description of the "miracula mundi." It is, indeed, impossible to suppose that a tabula rotunda is synonymous with a mappa mundi; yet, among the "miracula," or memorabilia "mundi," suitable to the embellishment of a princely hall of the thirteenth century, our ancestors would, doubtless, have given place to Arthur and his knights. A great and undefined antiquity is now generally allowed to the romances of the Round Table. They were, at all events, current in the Norman-French of Chrestien de Troyes, Manessier, and others, at the close of the twelfth century; and from Warton we learn that Henry was conversant with the romantic fictions of the age. Is it, therefore, unreasonable to suppose that, in pursuance of the king's order, Elias of Durham selected from the memorable things, of which the stories were then current and popular, the subject of a fabulous institution intimately associated by tradition with the castle of Winchester? If such was the fact, it was no unwarrantable deception, but a pleasant conceit, to delineate his subject on a circular board, purporting to be the very Table at which the king and his paladins were wont to sit. Mr. Smirke, however, in the purity of antiquarian conscience, questions the admissibility of this tempting hypothesis. The mappe-mound of the Thornton romance-writer he believes to have been an historical and descriptive work, or "storye," such as Sir John Maundeville mentions in his Travels. The mappa mundi at Winchester was, probably, a geographical chart of the world, according to the notions prevailing among the learned of those days. There is, indeed, reason to believe that it was a familiar domestic ornament. Waltham abbey is known to have possessed one; there still exists one belonging to Hereford Cathedral; and, what is more in point, there was a mappa mundi of some celebrity at the royal palace at Westminster in the fourteenth century. The map varied in its shape; but, when it represented the entire globe, it was circular. It ought not, therefore, to surprise us to find a chart of this kind in the hall of Winchester castle; and it is a curious confirmation of this view, that a manuscript. formerly belonging to St. Alban's abbey, of a date not very different from that of the hall itself, contains, among other circular diagrams or "schemes" representing various cosmographical theories, one which purports to be after the design of the architect of this very hall"Secundum magistrum Elya de Derham." The mappa at Hereford, being intended for an altarpiece, represents the day of judgment on its margin. That of Winchester may, possibly, have contained some marginal illustration, of which the subject was Arthur and his knights. In place of this, Mr. Smirke suspects the Table to have been substituted upon the occasion of subsequent repairs. Thus, the "pictures" of the hall were repainted in 44 Henry III.; and, in 1285, Edward I. celebrated the creation of many Knights at Winchester, when we observe that extensive repairs were executed. Still, Mr. Smirke leaves the determination of the precise date to those whose curiosity and leisure may induce them to search for decisive evidence among the records of the Exchequer. In the mean time, Mr. Smirke concludes, we must be content to assign to this curious work of art a respect able, but moderate, antiquity. With some allowance for repainting and reparation, it is, at all events, impossible to deny it an age of about four centuries:-it is possible that it may be extended to as many as six ;-but, the chances in the present state of the evidence are in favour of some early, intermediate date. By way of note, we may observe, that there is an old practice which may have originated in Arthur's Round Table. This is the "Round Robin," a circle, divided from the centre, like the famed Round Table; and in each compartment is a signature, so that the entire circle, when filled, exhibits a list without priority being given to either name. Reading for the Young. LOUISE, OR THE FAIRY WELL. LOUISE ADELBERG was the only daughter of Carl Friedrich, a wood-cutter, who, with Gertrude his wife, dwelt in a hut, on the borders of the Schwarzwald, or Black Forest. Several families, who pursued their daily labour in the forest, were collected together, and formed a little colony, upon a spot which, though naked and barren in appearance, wore an air of sublime grandeur, such as the eye loves to dwell upon, after having feasted for some time on tracts more cultivated and verdant. It seemed as though, in this region, nature had succeeded in resisting the encroachments of man, and held her undisputed sway in one bleak and barren spot, amid all the changes that had been wrought on the face of the surrounding country, by the gradual development of civilized life. The foreground exhibited a rough broken surface, planted with oats, which sprang up in patches here and there, owing to the sterility of the soil. Behind, in the distance, dark pine-trees and firs frowned; and so thickly did these grow, that the forest was, in many parts, impervious to everything but sun and wind, which moaned in repeated gusts through the branches. In the centre stood about a dozen huts, each containing but two rooms; one was built of better material, and fenced round with stakes. This was the dwelling of the Aufseher, or Inspector of the District, to whom was delegated the office of arbitrator in all the domestic feuds of the little settlement; his duty also it was to keep an exact account of the timber cut, and to forward it in rafts down the Rhine, to its destination. These poor wood-cutters lived together a life of peace and harmony, which promised to be of lasting duration, from the habits of intimacy, founded upon good feeling, which existed among all the children of the colony. One of the men was left from day to day to guard the settlement, while the others worked in the forest; and the various children were allowed to mingle together, and to enjoy their favourite sports, under the control of this daily guardian. Louise was naturally of a thoughtful turn of mind, which had been fostered from her cradle by the legendary accounts of elves and fairy-spirits | with which the whole country abounded. There was not a chain of mountain, or a gloomy forestshade, that was not associated in her memory with liar inhabitant. She never entered into the frolics the spell of some superhuman power, its own pecuof her companions with the spirit that might have been expected from a blooming girl, who had not yet seen her tenth spring; and, if she joined in the sport, her mind was continually wandering from the game. "There! Louise has missed the ball again," was the constant cry of her young friends; "she is losing what little skill she once possessed." Such speeches Louise bore in good part, but still she never tried to conquer her feelings, so that the ball which fell at the beginning of the game, was rarely found in her hand once ere the sport was over. If she could steal away unperceived from the little band, she would choose out some spot from which she could gaze undisturbed upon the dark forest, and lose herself in wonder as to the spirits who made it their abode; for their absence from so congenial a home was to her incredible. She further believed that the agency of all spirits was exerted for the benefit of mankind, and that injurious to their visitants, were but the punishall instances, in which their operation had proved ments inflicted upon man for some signal and heinous crime. With these sentiments, she never feared to enter the forest at nightfall, though her companions would often endeavour to dissuade her from her rambles. She would sometimes even quit the beaten track, and make her way through the briars till she met with another path, though the children were never allowed to wander far from the huts, for fear they should not discover the route back. During her forest rambles, Louise would occasionally allow her thoughts to flow forth in words of invocation. She would seat herself on a mossy bank, and, repeating from memory the spells which she had learned of old, summon the spirits from their forest-lair. The wind came whistling through the branches; deeper and deeper still it sounded; could it be the voice of the waldgenie-the forest-king, riding over the pine-tops? The wind fell, and a calm stillness succeeded; in the silence of the scene around her, she heard a faint whisper, and rose from her seat, and by her side stood her little brother, calling her by name. "Louise," cried the child, twining his little arms round her neck, "you never stay to play with us now, but forget your brother, who loves none so dearly as you; why should you leave us, to sit in the dark forest? You are sad and silent, dear Louise; you must rest in the hut to-morrow, and I will stay and amuse you; and you will love me again, wont you, Louise?" said the child, raising his pretty blue eyes, till they met those of his sister. Louise kissed the little fellow tenderly, and they left the forest, hand in hand. A merry shout greeted them as they emerged from the wood into the open space, and Louise, yielding to the affectionate entreaties of her brother, accosted all the little ones warmly, and, for the first time, evinced a degree of spirit and animation in entering into the sport. The evening meal of warm milk and oaten cake was prepared, and the family were seated round a log fire, which blazed cheerily, and lighted the hut "Louise, my child," said the wood-cutter, "you have been in the Schwarzwald to-day, but never again leave the beaten track, or you will be lost in some of its dark recesses." "She is going to stay in the hut with me, tomorrow," said her little brother; "I am going to amuse her." The children then retired into the inner chamber for the night, and soon slept in each other's arms. Louise was speedily wrapped in pleasant dreams, the visionary creations of her wakeful hours. She seemed to have become suddenly dead to all the feelings of mortality, and to have entered into a new existence of exquisite bliss, clouded by no shade of misery, calm and serene as the state of the happy departed. She felt a degree of buoyancy of spirit which she had never known before; and the sense of the beautiful seemed to steal insensibly over her frame, and was heightened by the winning graces of the scene in which she moved and breathed. The dark forest was exchanged for a bright unbounded space of flower-garden; the dark pines were lost in the foliage of mighty cedar-trees, and delicate willows, overhanging a bubbling stream of crystal water. There were no huts to be seen, but in the centre stood a circular edifice of shellwork, presenting a green exterior, from the moss with which it was covered, relieved by the more lively tints of wild-flowers that clung to it. Bees, of an unusual size, whose downy bodies were tinged with all the rainbow hues, hovered over the flower-beds; birds, of the most delicate form, hopped from spray to spray, making sweet music from their quivering throats: and, as the breeze kissed the opening rose, and gracefully bent the lily bell, their perfumes, mingled with the treasures of a thousand odoriferous shrubs, steeped the senses of the little slumberer in new delight. Several airy forms flitted about the garden, concealed beneath light blue silk draperies, gathered in at the waist by a delicate circlet of white coral; a silver band was fastened round their brow, set in the centre of the forehead with a precious stone, either a diamond, ruby, emerald, or sapphire. The sleeping child gazed silently around her, and heard a voice sweet and soft as a silvertongued bell, saying— "Come hither, child of mortality! here is balm for the wounded spirit; here is rest from the strife and turmoil of the world. Come hither, maiden! the plague-spot of sin hath not marred thy brow; come hither, pure and spotless as thou art, ere the chilling breeze, or the noxious blight, taint thee. Here is a well of water to revive the lustre of the sunken eye, and the bloom of the faded cheek; here is a stream to wash away the stain of earth, and to render thee a creature of undying beauty. Here the fierce passions that wage unceasing war in the mind of gross mortality dare not enter; here jealousy, hatred, and revenge are lost in one stream of boundless love, that binds the holy of earth with the sainted of heaven." "I come, beautiful spirits!" murmured Louise from her half-closed lips, and in a few moments the morning sun that darted through the window, roused her from her dream. She rose and dressed her little brother, and the two children entered their parents' chamber hand in hand, where the woodcutter was preparing for his morning labour. The children sat down to their repast of milk and cake, and Louise said to her father as he was leaving the hut," Father dear, I shall bring your dinner into the forest at noon, for I know where to find you by the trees that were felled yesterday." "No, rest thee to-day, my darling," said her father, kissing her forehead, "your mother will attend to me.' "Yes, and I will attend to Louise," said her little brother, taking her hand, " and we shall be so happy here to-day, without going into that gloomy forest." May that love of yours continue, my children," said the woodcutter, as he shouldered his axe and went forth to work. The children listened to the sound of his footsteps as he tracked the nearest forest-path; soon his morning song burst merrily forth "How happy is the woodman's lot! Where the broad green boughs give a shady cot, At the early peep of day, In the spot where the monarch oak hath stood And when the shades of eve steal o'er, In the forest-depths his grave shall be, And the axe of the son shall be heard once more, "Aye, that it shall," exclaimed the little fellow, as he caught the last few words of the song, "it shall work for Louise, and hard too." When the bright sunshine called forth the children from the various huts to enjoy their usual sports, there was a general cry of "Where is Louise and little Carl;" and many of the young ones dispersed themselves, and went in search of the truants. They sought her in her usual haunts, but to no purpose; and they were just giving over the pursuit as useless, when Carl's little rosy face was seen peering out of the door of the hut. Carl, we wait for you and Louise, to make some new game for us, for we are all tired of our old sports," said a little neighbour. "Come, "We cannot play with you to-day," said Carl, "for we shall not leave the hut, and I am going to nurse Louise." The news of their intended absence soon spread among the children, and Carl returned to his sister, and endeavoured to amuse her by the recital of the last legend which their father had told him; but, though he ran on from the denizens of air to the spirits of flood and fire, and told how elves and genii had mingled with mankind in curious guises, and the good effects they had wrought by their mystic spells,-though he painted in vivid colours the appearance of the wald-genie himself, a theme of general interest to the mind of childhood, she paid but little attention to his innocent prattle. She was fully absorbed in a day-dream of beauty, the reflection as it were of the night's vision. The gems that decked the brows of her fairy visitors were still glittering before her eyes, and the echo of the words so lately addressed to her had not died away. The day seemed to ber too lengthened, she longed eagerly for the approach of night; and, when the deepening shadows told of its approach, she wished for sunrise, that she might again enjoy a ramble in the forest. Day dawned upon her once more, and at noon she tripped out of the hut towards the forest, taking with her a basket containing her father's dinner. She threaded her accustomed path, occupied in mind with her fanciful vision, and observed, for the first time, some imagination traced out for itself beautiful pinnacles and towers in the water; two bright beings, such as she had seen in her dream, seemed to stand as wardens upon the summit, and she heard the same silver tones she knew so well, singing "When the chaste moon-beams And watch and pray; Watch that the foe may ne'er alarm thee, A beacon bright, 'mid sin and woe, large flowers growing on a mossy bank. Their shape was so delicate, and their colours so inviting, that she stayed her pace to admire them sufficiently. "Surely it would not delay me long to gather a few, they will make our little chamber quite charming." Such were her thoughts: but the little voice within her would be heard, and urged her to hasten to her father. "Only let me gather one," said she, "and then I will redouble my pace;" but it knew of no course but the direct path, and would suffer no deviation from it. "On, on," it seemed to say, and her heart throbbed wildly within her. She stood for a moment more in suspense, wavering between her desire and her duty, but the claims of the latter proved impotent, and she laid her basket down and began to pluck the flowers. When she had gaAs the last words swelled louder forth, Louise thered a few, she saw at a little distance some of sank into a gentle slumber. She lost in her repose superior size and brilliancy. She darted off in the all remembrance of her folly, and felt a more pleadirection, and at the moment she was breaking the sant sensation of calm security than she had ever tiny stalk, a large bee issued from the flower, and experienced in her former dreams. She seemed to hovered about her, telling by his buzzing voice of have been lightened of her load of mortality, to be the spoil he had found. Oh, what a lovely crea- dead to all other feelings but those of unbounded ture!" thought Louise, "exactly like those I saw bliss. Her sleep was unbroken during a long series in my dream; I must try and catch it, to show of hours, but at times she murmured forth, "I little Carl." With these words she let fall the come, beautiful spirits! I come." She was awakenflowers out of her apron, and ran after the bee, en-ed by a sense of some most delicious odours, deavouring every moment to envelope it in its folds. delicate as the perfumed treasures of the most Onward flew the bee, no longer staying to sip the choice flower-bells. She opened her eyes, and in a sweets in his path; behind ran the panting child, transport of bliss exclaimed, "My wishes are at laughing at her vain attempts to get him into her last crowned, I have come to join you, beautiful power, till, from her eagerness and her fear of spirits! and, oh, what a life of joy it must be, to losing the prize, she forgot the cause of her visit to roam free and fearlessly amid such scenes as this!" the forest, and the request of her parents not to ad- She found herself upon a couch of ebony, inlaid with vance too far into its depths. The bee alighted at silver, but of such light structure and tiny dimenlength upon a wallflower, which sprang from the sions, that it seemed hardly strong enough to supcrevices of some old brick-work before her. "One port her frame. The linen in which she was effort more, and I shall have it," said Louise, as she wrapped was of the finest texture, and the coverlet hastened to throw her apron over the flower; but of dark purple velvet with a broad fringe of gold. the bee had flown, and Louise found herself at the The hangings were of a pale primrose tint, which brink of what had apparently been an old well, contrasted well with the darker shades which the though its ruinous condition seemed to indicate carpet wore, which consisted of the furs of various that a long period had elapsed since it had been animals wrought into various patterns; it appeared visited for its water. The edge was covered with almost too delicate for the foot, and Louise thought grasses and moss; part of the rope was still re-it a luxury to walk upon it. There was a mirror of maining: but the bucket to which it had been attached was missing. Louise knew not to what part of the forest she had wandered. The well was a novelty to her; and, to increase her dismay, her eye failed in discovering the path by which she had reached it. Then the still small voice of conscience began to blame her for gathering the flowers. She upbraided herself for her folly, and burst into a flood of tears. She was naturally an affectionate child, so that the idea of being parted from all who were dear to her was painful in the extreme; the despair of her father was presented to her eyes, the mute anguish of her mother, when she returned not from the forest, and the sorrowful tone in which little Carl asked, "Where is my sister? Where is dear Louise?" fell heavily upon her ear. Then she attempted to find a pathway, but brambles and briars stayed her progress on all sides; twilight came on-one star burst forth-soon a faint streak of light assured her of the presence of the moon; a chill air blew upon her; yes, night was indeed drawing on apace, and she in the forest, without food and without shelter! She threw herself down in agony upon the brink of the well, and, as the moonbeams fell upon it, she descried, several feet below her, the clear glassy surface of the water. While gazing intently upon the clear crystal, her burnished silver, encased in a framework of tortoise- |