Almanac. -Births, Marriages, and Deaths.

DESCENDED from a long line of noble ancestry, heir to the titles and riches of his family, highly gifted, elegant, and accomplished, Eugene de Hauteville appeared to possess every requisite for worldly felicity. He was, however, far from being satisfied either with himself or with others; and, in a moment of splenetic discontent, he withdrew from the gaieties of Paris, to wander amidst the mountains of Switzerland. Six weeks he passed in exploring, admiring, meditating, repining, and endeavouring in vain to discover what could possibly render him so dissatisfied with everything and everybody. It then occurred to him that a suitable companion would at once dissipate all his melancholy, and gild every scene with pleasure. But where was this being to be found? He had associated with the most fascinating women. in Paris, he had at intervals been in society with blooming provincials, and he had tried to become acquainted with the artless beauties of Switzerland, but his fastidious taste demanded something different from what he had hitherto beheld, and at length it occurred to him that his best plan would be to educate a wife for himself.

N. S. VOL. XXXIV.

M

During one of his daily rambles in search of a fitting object for his culture and affection, he was attracted by the finely-formed ancle of a valley damsel walking before him; forthwith he scrambled after her, resolved to commence his task of preceptor without delay. The damsel, however, upon turning her head, discovered a face so disfigured by the small pox, and a figure so repulsive, that all his intended compliments were converted into a simple inquiry concerning the nearest road to L, whence he had wandered early in the morning. The reply was long and loud :-"Take that path, do you see, then go up that hill and afterwards descend into the valley, then follow a road that leads to the left till you come to one that conducts you to the right, then you must jump from one precipice to another, descend and ford a little stream, ascend the mountain till you see L on the right beneath you, and you can take the way you like best." Eugene thought more of escaping from the sound of the girl's stentorian voice, than of paying attention to her direction; he therefore turned to the right when he should have gone to the left, climbed up a mountain when he ought to have descended into a valley, and so completely lost his way, that, when the day began to close, he was still far from L-, and somewhat doubtful whether he should be able to procure a lodging for the night in the part of the country where he had bewildered himself. Luckily the sound of a very sweet voice arrested his attention, and turning to the side whence it proceeded, he perceived a young girl sitting before the door of a cottage, singing as she worked; he approached, and stating that he had lost his way, asked whether he might be permitted to lodge in that cottage for one night, at least. "I will ask my uncle," answered the cottager. She immediately went to seek him, and soon returned with her uncle, who cordially consented, and invited Eugene to sit down with them to supper, which he did most gladly, having fasted for several hours. The repast being finished, he was conducted to his chamber: several articles in it betrayed that his young hostess had resigned her apartment to him; a straw hat with blue ribbons was hung against the wall, a pincushion was suspended near the bed, and a work-box stood on the polished chest of drawers.

Eugene was fond of deducing a judgment upon character from trifling circumstances. Accordingly, after having examined his pretty apartment, he thus summed up an opinion on the qualities of Clara, as his little hostess was named: "Clara has a very pretty hat, very prettily trimmed, she therefore wishes to please, and the wish to please generally produces the power; her room is beautifully clean, and there hangs her pincushion, she is evidently both clean and tidy; and there, too, is her work-box, recently in use, it appears, so she is also industrious; and from her kindness to her little cousins, she is fond of children, she will therefore be a good mother; she is simplicity itself, and on the foundation of simplicity of character, mixed with good sense, we may raise a noble superstructure of virtues and accomplishments: I will see what I can make of her."

Having thus settled the affair with himself he went to sleep, and did not awake the next morning till Clara had been wanting her work-box two hours, and her uncle began to be impatient for his breakfast.

At length, however, Eugene went down-stairs, and being told by his hospitable host that he was welcome to stop at the cottage as long as he liked, he very contentedly seated himself by Clara, and said he should like to stay some days to sketch views of the surrounding scenery, but first he must return to L- for the articles he wanted; however, one of Clara's cousins undertaking the commission, Eugene remained at the cottage, very impatient to begin his task of education, but not yet quite certain how he ought to set about it. "First of all," thought the young tutor, "I must cure her of laughing at everything; then she skips about like a chamois; she is very pretty, but as wild as a colt."

"Are you fond of reading?" asked the self-elected preceptor.

"I have no time; with all my little cousins to attend to, the house to set in order, and the dinner to get ready, how can I ever look into a book?"

"But I will read to you; are you fond of poetry?" said Eugene, in his softest tone.

"Plait-il?" cried Clara.

Now there was no expression in the French language which displeased Eugene like plait-il: he therefore jerked his book out of his coat-pocket, and began to read to himself. Clara continued her occupation, and sang merrily as she worked. "My sweet little girl," said De Hauteville, "your unrefined education has left you ignorant of that bienseance, without which no woman can be perfect; you did not reflect, or you would have felt that to sing at the time I was reading-"

Just then, one of the children fell down, and Clara ran to help it up; then returning to Eugene, with one of her broadest smiles, she begged him "to continue his dissertation on bienseance."

"I was only observing, my child, that to sing while I was reading

"Oh!" cried Clara, starting from her seat, "I forgot to shut the door of the outhouse, and there are all the goats and kids going down the mountain. Charles, William, Albert, come and help me to bring home the goats," and away she ran to fetch back the

truants.

This was too much for the philosophy of four-and-twenty, and Eugene, seeing no prospect of giving a lecture with any success that morning, put aside his book, and wandered into a beautiful valley that sloped gradually down from the eminence on which the cottage stood.

His attention was soon attracted by a very pretty dwelling, fitted up in a higher taste than the others, and presently he saw an elegant female figure pass through an apartment, of which the windows were

open, and into which he had a complete view; a piano, a drawing stand, books, flowers, and drapery, all announced cultivation of mind and elegaance of taste; however, he contented himself with noting the spot, not being willing to renounce the plan of educating a wife elect, and he returned to the cottage on the mountain, where he found his young commissioner returned with the linen, books, and drawing materials, for which he had been sent.

The next morning Eugene again endeavoured to fix the attention of Clara on books and conversation, but there was always something to do, a child or a goat to run after, and an immoderate fit of laughter at the serious face of Eugene, who now, listlessly enough, began his sketches; then at last the attention of Clara was attracted; she laid down the pretty corsage she was making, regarded the progress of his work, and from time to time looked at the artist himself, with an expression which his amour propre construed into approbation.

Four days had passed since he began his assiduous cultivation of the art of drawing, when on the fifth he perceived an unusual bustle in the cottage; the children were all dressed in their best clothes, Clara was arrayed in her holiday finery, and the good uncle himself appeared infected with the gaiety and coquetry of his household. Eugene, however, supposing it was all on account of some fête, very quietly continued his sketching, while Clara, visibly restless and agitated, either looked at his drawing, or ran to the brow of the eminence whence the road to L was discernible.

"What is it you are looking for-whom do you expect?" demanded De Hauteville at last, rather peevishly.

"My aunt," replied Clara, blushing; "she comes home to-day from L, where she has been staying a few days with a relation, and buying some things;" and the blush was more vivid at the conclusion of the sentence than even at the beginning.

"Your aunt!" cried Eugene; "I imagined your uncle was a widower."

"Oh, no, no: my dear aunt is living and beloved by us all; she and Lindor will soon be here, I hope."

"And who is Lindor?"

"My eldest cousin; he is an artist, too; he always sits where you now do. I love to watch the progress of his drawings; they are very different from yours."

"And which do you like best?”

"Oh, Lindor's, to be sure! "

Eugene bit his lip, but still continued his catechism.

"Have you been long in your uncle's family?"

"Three years next midsummer."

"And how long do you think of remaining?"

"Till-till I am married."

"Ah! and when do you suppose that will be?" said Eugene, smiling.