reprobates. He never got drunk but once, and that I ascribe solely to his extreme weakness of head. He published a thin pamphlet of verses, which, according to his account of them, were to prove simply Satanic; and when they appeared (under another name) they were solely remarkable for their pitiful and abject futility. But Bab, I knew, could only take a superficial view of things, and would accept George on his own valuation. Everything turned out well, and just as I had planned. George was soon excited by the claret, and talked bigger than I had ever heard even him talk. I blushed for our family when I heard the fellow's monstrous lies. None of the gallants of the Merry Monarch's court could ever have rivalled in fact the imaginary delinquencies of this poor, limp little undergraduate. He had drunk of every vintage, gambled at every game, betted on every race. All women were in love with him, even the daughters of masters of colleges had begun to ogle him, and Girton and Newnham languished for him. He even detailed a duel fought at Boulogne, in which he had shot a fire-eating count through the body. I felt sure he had never got nearer to France than Margate, or perhaps Broadstairs; and as for shooting-why, an elephant would have been safe from him at ten paces. But Barbara took it all in, I knew. She remained demurely hidden in my own shadow; but sometimes she would start out in eagerness as George told of some especially brilliant adventure, and then subside as I looked at her warningly. I could see her pretty well, for I had left the new lamp with a white globe. At last the hand of my clock marked twenty minutes to ten, and my cousin George, I mean-rose, and said he must be going. The hour had come at length. Feverish with anxiety, I looked inquiringly at Barbara. She nodded twice, distinctly. "I say, George," I remarked, in a tone that would not sound careless, "have you seen these new blue shades for lamps? My doctor says they are very good for the eyes.' I put on my selected globe as I spoke. An intense blue light succeeded to the white glare, and I saw with a thrill of delight that my shadow and George's and all the shadows in the room were indistinguishable from Barbara. The lamp had no effect on her shade of yellow, for wherever the light was that projected her on my floor, it was certainly not above. George came close to the lamp to see the make of it, which I praised as something extraordinary. I was just behind him, leaning over him, and almost treading on his heels in my anxiety to be near enough. Then, on some pretext, I moved quickly round to the other side of the table, and took off the blue globe. A pang of disappointment shot through me as I noticed that Bab was still attached to me, much to her own disgust, no doubt. All was in vain, then. My persecutor could not leave me even if she wanted. As my cousin George again turned to go, a sudden thought struck me. I would try every measure before I would despair. I looked down at his feet, and in a second had formed my plan. George," I said, flippantly, "where on earth do you buy your shoes? I think I shall get a pair from that shop for foot-ball matches. I never saw such enormous clumpers.' This was extremely rude on my part, and I knew it; but desperate men do not stop to regard courtesy. Beside, his shoes were clumsy, and a very seedy pair too. George was richer than I, but, in spite of his boasted extravagance, he was not fond of spending money when he could help it. Yet he was proud of his small feet,—a peculiarity of the Beaumonts. "They're no bigger than your own!" he replied, curtly, and with some excusable temper. 66 Come, come, George," I said, in a bantering tone, "you won't get me to believe that!" "What will you bet?" asked he. "Well, you know I never bet," I answered; "but if you can put my shoes on now and get back to your rooms in them you can keep them, and your own too, for the matter of that." As I spoke, I replaced the blue globe over the lamp. I saw George's eyes light up with pleasant anticipation. I went up close to him, and stood with a hand on his shoulder to keep my balance while I kicked off my shoes. Then I sprang quickly back, and threw myself on the sofa, with my feet off the ground, while he proceeded to take off his own foot-gear and put on mine. They were new, and pinched him, I felt sure; but he walked resolutely to the door. As he did so, I started up and tore off the blue globe. Oh, joy! as he moved, I could distinctly see the Yellow Shadow following him, and wheeling into his own, when he turned, so as to escape observation. He said good-night, and went out, stepping rather gingerly, I thought. After shutting the inner door, he was some time fumbling with the outer, and Barbara was still in my room, as far as her knees, -the rest was on the other side of the threshold. She wrote "Adew," and courtesied in a mocking way. Then, as he stumbled off, she slid away under the door. Her skirt disappeared, then her waist, then her shoulders, and the pretty head; and lastly went one hand,-whether right or left I could not tell,—which waved a farewell as the tips of the fingers passed out of sight. It was the last I ever saw of Bab. When I had heard the sound of George's steps die away down the stairs, I sprang up and danced a wild fling in my stockings, at the risk of bringing Bolton up again. Then I finished the claret at one draught, made and drank six cups of tea, read thirty pages of Spherical Harmonics, and went to bed in the most blissfully happy state I have ever known. My tale is told. It only remains to say what has become of the actors in this strange drama. For myself, I have never been troubled I since then with shadows,-yellow or otherwise. I regained all my power of work, and was Senior Wrangler in due course. I was made a Fellow, and hope to be some day bursar of St. Anthony's. As for Barbara,-alas, poor Shadow! I am sorry for her fate, though she did nearly ruin my prospects. It was some days before George discovered her attendance on him at night; for, in spite of his bragging, he kept very early hours. When he did find out her presence, he was smitten with abject terror, and thought that this visitation was a judgment on his wickedness. He certainly deserved some punishment for being such a liar; but I never heard of his doing anything else that was wrong. As for crimes, he was absolutely incapable of them. He fled for help to his college dean; and when he could not obtain relief from that bewildered official, who had only taken orders so as to be made dean, he became desperate, and joined the local corps of the Abduction Army. After attending two meetings, he found relief, and was never after troubled by his distant aunt or cousin, the Yellow Shadow. I do not wonder at this; for the ladies of Charles II.'s court, whatever frailties they might have, were always sound Church women,except when they turned Roman Catholic. Bab never came back to me when she deserted George: perhaps she would not, or more probably she could not. It was her only chance, I fear; and I am sorry she had so dull a holiday. When my cousin "Captain" George was freed from his spectral follower, and had ceased to apprehend any fresh visit from her, he wanted to leave his "company" but the army had got him, and kept him, and he had not the strength of mind to quit it. To this day I occasionally see him advertised on hoardings as "Cambridge George, the Happy Undergraduate ;" and from the reports of his addresses in the War- Whoop I should say that he must be almost as great a liar now as when I knew him. Of course, as a Beaumont, I cannot know him now. Henry Doone. PRINCESS BADOURA. NIGH TIGHT is regent of the sky; On the veined pomegranate-leaves To the slave girl standing near t Round her, like a filmy veil, Lovely Princess Badoura. At her feet there falls a rose; Smiling Princess Badoura. Oh, the joy that fills her heart Trustful Princess Badoura. Hearken! on her startled ear Flashes like a falling star, Woful Princess Badoura, Clinton Scollard. FROM LIBBY TO FREEDOM. AFTER the fight on the 25th of June, in front of the intrenchments at Fair Oaks, I lay sick in my tent, one of the many victims of the Chickahominy swamps. At nine P.M. on the 28th we were ordered to get ready to march at a moment's notice, and to destroy all stores, camp-equipage, munitions of war, officers' baggage, etc. Our regiment, or rather what was left of it after the continuous fighting, was allowed two wagons: one we filled with ammunition, and the other with rations and regimental books and papers. Almost everything was destroyed,— new rifles bent, rations spilled into the mud, tents cut to pieces, officers' baggage torn into shreds. No fires were allowed. The men began to talk about "skedaddling," and the timid ones packed hurriedly and quietly sneaked away to follow the teams. The darkness was unbroken, save in the direction of the White House, where a reddened sky gave evidence that the destruction of government property was going on. All kinds of rumors were whispered : "We were surrounded." "Hooker's division was left to hold the rear and take care of itself." Many were the surmises as to our destination. Yorktown was the opinion of most; the James River was spoken of. This continued until morning, and still no orders to move. At about eight o'clock, however, the line was formed, and the whole division filed down the road. Our surgeon had promised to send an ambulance for a sick lieutenant and myself, and the provost stopped at the front of my tent to say that it was across the road. The lieutenant went out to see where it but came back saying that it was gone. The driver was timid and afraid to stay. was, At this depressing news, we left our tent and went across the road to an old house that had been used as a hospital. A signal-officer of Porter's corps passed, and I called to him to send us an ambulance or horses. He knew me, so he promised, and galloped off. He had scarcely gone, when the rebels poured yelling over the embankment at Redoubt No. 3. The advance-guard entered the house and formally made us prisoners, but the officer said that no guard would be placed over us if we would promise not to try to escape. As we were barely able to stagger, we gave the required promise. Our rear-guard soon began to fire on the advancing rebels, whereupon a large body of them poured out of the woods on our right, and our little house of refuge was between two fires. The air was full of whizzing shells. In the midst of it all, we were taken before a major, who asked us many questions about the movements and strength of our army. On our declining to answer, he became furious, and ordered us to be taken to the rear. At the other side of the opening we met the wagons provided for such prisoners as were unable to walk; into one of them the lieutenant |