Mrs. Jackson responded to the request with much friendliness, and professed herself charmed to come to the ball, and to bring her 'ma, if her 'ma could be persuaded to come out, which she didn't think likely, as since her 'pa's death her 'ma had not seen much company.

The good understanding between the fair matrons was further cemented by a little family dinner given at the house of Mrs. Jackson, at which was present good old Lady Matthews, the relict of the late Sir Samuel Matthews, Knight, and Alderman of the good City of London, and head partner in the well-known cutlery firm of Matthews and Timmins. The kind, genial old lady, who was never weary of relating anecdotes of Sir Samuel Matthews"before he was Sir Samuel, my dear, and when him and I and Tilly lived at Peckham," was unconscious of how much her title had contributed towards the development of friendly sentiments in the heart of Mrs. Evans towards her less-fashionable neighbour; "for you see, my dear," her visitor had said to Marian, "titles are titles, and it sounds very well to visit and to talk of Lady Matthews; therefore, for your sake, I shall make the best of Mrs. Jackson. It will be an effort, of course; but still I will make it on your account, my dear."

After the dinner party, Mrs. Evans further admitted that Mr. Jackson was a particularly gentlemanly man. And Mrs. Jackson confided to Marian that Mr. Evans had no nonsense about him and was full of jokes and fun, and that she got on capitally with him. The much-talked-of ball given by Mr. and Mrs. Evans was the wonder of Riverside and its neighbourhood, and as the local organ had it" never was such a galaxy of beauty and grace assembled in Riverside within the memory of its oldest inhabitant; never was such sweet music discoursed to the votaries of Terpsichore." And we may mention that Mrs. Evans' papa, Monsieur Joyce, constituted himself master of the ceremonies; and that he opened the ball with the mistress of the house with a stately minuet, which was followed by a succession of Mazurkas and Shottisches, to the great delight of the assembled guests, who pronounced M. Joyce to be the beau-ideal of a "gallant beau," especially the feminine division of the goodly company, to whom he made himself particularly agreeable. This débonnair little gentleman, who carried his qhibon under his arm, was short of stature and plump of figure, and merry of countenance; his waistcoat was very white, and his head was very bald, and his little feet were encased in hose of black silk, while his dancing-pumps were ornamented with the largest and smartest of silver buckles. In his hand he carried a little dress cane, with a silver knob and a silken tassel, which served him in lieu of a conductor's baton. M. Joyce was the life

and soul of the ball; he skipped up to the young ladies who were without partners, saying airily, and kissing the tips of his fingers to them meanwhile, "Comment donc, Mademoiselle; why do you show yourself so cruel to those gentlemen who now expire at your feet for the wish of dancing with you." He would then dexterously seize the first young man he could find disengaged, and triumphantly present him to the damsels, remarking, “Ah, mon ami, see what I do for you; you are a very lucky man. Ah! if I were twenty years younger, you should not have it all your own way." Then he would finish his peroration with a wink of intelligence, and a snap of his fingers, and a graceful pirouette. M. Joyce, in the interest of his art, had so long endeavoured to appear of French extraction, that he ended by thoroughly believing he was so.

His daughter, Marian, was, of course, the belle of the vale, and all the young men of Riverside envied the young doctor the possession of the lovely Marian's heart, and the young ladies of Riverside the possession of such an elegant toilette, and could but sufficiently admire the clouds of pale blue tulle and silver gauze in which her fair form was enveloped; and when, later in the evening, it became known among the more intimate circle of friends that Miss Joyce, had, after much maidenly bashfulness, been prevailed upon to name an early day for her nuptials with Walter Ellis, the young ladies eagerly speculated as to which of them would be selected to fill the important role of bridesmaid. Mrs. Jackson was resplendent in her satin and Brussels lace,-lace which she informed everyone was the identical lace in which she was married, and which had been purchased by her 'ma, as a great bargain, of the 'ma of a certain young lady whose young gentleman had jilted her the day before the wedding, which accounted for her, Tilly's mamma, having come by such very handsome lace. There was nothing to be had like it now-a-days. Mrs. Jackson was on the best of terms with herself and everyone else, saving the letter "h." She honoured Mr. Evans with her hand, and gave him what she called the supper dance, and was then led by him to the banqueting-hall, where she was pleased to observe that her husband occupied the part of honour by the side of Mrs. Evans, whose toilette drew forth the warmest admiration from the hitherto critical Tilly. She even confided to Mrs. Evans that hamber silk with black lace was fit for a duchess, and that those diamonds of his lady went so well with it, and the black velvet trimmings was all the finish the dress wanted, and made it quite complete and stylish, and quite to her mind.

Within a month of the ball, the local organ again chronicled with a blast of trumpets a wedding in Riverside. The beauty of the bride, and the dresses of the bridesmaids, and the proud bearing

of the gallant bridegroom, the decoration of the church, the number and names of the guests, the splendour of the wedding breakfast, with the speeches of the gentlemen, were all discanted upon and described in a way which, though we may admire, we cannot hope to imitate. The writer of this fashionable report, being one of the invited wedding guests, comp sed an ode for the auspicous occasion, and concluded with the hope that Mr. and Mrs. Ellis might enjoy long life and prosperity in the parish of Riverside, and that the practice Mr. Ellis had recently purchased might increase and prosper, which remark, though a compliment to the rising practitioner, was hardly one to the parish itself. The last and concluding paragraph alluded in feeling terms to the united houses of Evans and Jackson, now one family, with best wishes for their uninterrupted happiness and unbroken harmony.

THE END

OUR SHAKESPERIAN READINGS.

SOCIETY in a provincial town, such as I am now writing in, is too often stale, flat, and unprofitable. It is stale and flat because we live in little sets, seeing the same faces every day, and using almost the same words. And our words are very often unprofitable and even mischievous, because they are, as a rule, spoken in reference to persons. It is a garrison town, and the writer lives in a military set. Here scarcely anything is talked of except personalities. A regiment is such a small world, that it is impossible to indulge in the luxury of privacy. Everyone knows too much of everyone. The amount of money possessed by each officer, and the last new dress of his wife, are as well known to his companions as the regimental facings. At last we wearied of grinding out the same tunes, as on a barrel organ, about our neighbours' concerns. Rightly or wrongly, we fancied we had a small amount of intellectual power over and above that possessed by an organ grinder's monkey. "Why, then," we asked ourselves, "should our visits to each other be so wearisome, and so unworthy of cultured, or even of half-cultured, beings?" We had, of course, all read Shakespeare in our youth; but might it not be as well to read again the myriad-minded poet ?" One lady, who had some organising

ability, started a Shakesperian reading-club.

In this paper we propose to give an account of our struggles towards the light of rational sociability out of the wearisome darkness of tittle-tattle gossiping. In large cities mental food can easily be obtained. We desire to encourage those who live in small provincial towns and country places to make bricks even without straw-to endeavour to amuse and edify one another even though they live far from any great centre of culture and education.

Only six persons were present at our first reading. Many others promised to come, but at the last moment, their courage failed them. "They never could read aloud. They would come and listen; but for anything else they were quite afraid to venture." Nor was this diffidence surprising when we considered how much neglected is the art of reading aloud, than which no accomplishment is more social and eminently useful. "Hamlet" was the first play operated upon. Two members of the club made a selection of the parts to be read, taking care that their “elegant extracts could be read in about two hours.

After a good deal of tittering on the part of the first readers, we got fairly started, and the reading was so much better than we

expected, that" to be or not to be" was no longer the question with our club, especially after that soliloquy had been very effectively given. When half the play was read through, we had tea and talk for ten minutes. During this time, jokes were made about the ghost" Alas, poor ghost !"-and different opinions put forward as to the correct emphasis to be given to the several words in the line

"To be, or not to be; that is the question."

The conversation that occupied these ten minutes was very good. The readers had been bottled up, so to speak, and when they did give vent to their thoughts and feelings, it was in a sparkling, lively flow of talk. Our reading supplied a text from which we considerably departed, for we discussed many subjectsfor the most part, however, as became rational beings, which would not have been the case if there had been only talking and no reading.

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Our reading party met every week at the houses of the several members. From the small beginning already mentioned it has become greatly enlarged and three other Shakesperian Readings have been started in the neighbourhood suggested by our experi ment, and there is a perceptible improvement in the society of our town. People have something else than mere talk to occupy them when they meet their friends. Vulgar gossip about neighbours' concerns is less indulged in, and reputations no longer die at every word, wink, and nod. Boswell was, according to Dr. Johnson, "the best travelling companion in the world." For such a purpose, readiness to make talk at all hazards is a high recommendation. If, sir, you were shut up in a castle and a newborn baby with you, what would you do?" is one of his questions to Johnson, à propos of nothing. Those who have not this capacity for talking about nothing will appreciate Shakesperian Readings as being helps at any rate to keep the ball of society rolling without having to make talk at all hazards themselves. Occasionally recitations from Tennyson are given by different members, and charades have been substituted at some houses for readings. The end aimed at is to raise social intercourse to a higher level by giving people something besides gossip to think and speak We hear much of the elevation of the working classes; but those who have been gifted with social talents are greatly to blame if they never exert themselves to make society in the middle class a little more bright and innocent. It is a great mistake to suppose that a person must be rich in order to become a social influence. Certainly fashionable dinner parties are expensive, but these are not given now-a-days for the sake of friendly intercourse Guests are collected merely to witness the fact that their host

of.