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Between the door and the fireplace was a large bay window, in which stood the dressing-table; on the table was a large lookingglass gloomily reflecting the heavy-looking four-post bed. As may be supposed from what has already been said, dressing his head for the night formed no inconsiderable portion of my uncle's toilet. To-night he seemed depressed, apparently by the moaning of the wind, and he moved uneasily about the room: first he walked to the window and looked into the darkness; but, not being able to detect anything there, he turned to the fire, and, after gazing moodily for a few moments at the burning logs, commenced the important business of assuming his night-gear. First came the scarlet flannel cap, which was carefully drawn on over the ears, and the strings tied. Suddenly my uncle assumed a listening attitude.

"Did I not hear a laugh?" said he to himself; "surely I heard something. Oh! but nonsense! Bah! what am I dreaming of?" and he took up his second nightcap and proceeded to place it gravely over the other; and then, lastly, a gorgeous one of black velvet embroidered with beads. Again my uncle started, for he distinctly seemed to hear some one laughing. He glanced uneasily around: all was still save the noise of the wind howling through the trees. Again he tried to quiet his rising fears, and once more riveted his attention on the mirror before him. The figure therein reflected was certainly calculated to excite a smile; for it was curious to see such a benevolent kind face in a huge velvet cap with a fringing of black, yellow, and red, to say nothing of earlappets and strings. It is often the case, when looking in a mirror, that one does not look at the object one seeks to see, but the eye wanders to other things reflected in it. This was the case with my uncle to-night. His eye wandered from himself to the bed, and from the bed to the floor, which seemed strangely distorted: it appeared to form a steep hill, as seen in the glass. But what was

that black thing on the apparent hill between the bed-trimmings and the carpet? He leant forward to examine the glass more closely; but as he did so, he started back with a slight scream, for the black-looking object on the carpet was the heel of a man's boot. He turned quickly round to ascertain if there really existed such a thing, and there was nothing to be seen; the valance just touched the carpet and seemed perfectly undisturbed. He then began to reason that it must have been an optical delusion; that the noise of the elements had made him nervous. And then he almost resolved to lift the valance and look if there were a man under the bed. This, however, proved too nervous a task for even my brave uncle. "If," he said to himself, "a robber really be there, he will doubtless try to put me hors de combat, which would not be pleasant in the mildest form ;" so at last my uncle decided on getting into bed as though nothing unusual had occurred, and then ring for his man-servant Jacques, and try to make him acquainted with his perilous situation. My uncle, therefore, put out the candle, and then exclaimed aloud, "Oh! I have forgotten to order my carriage for to-morrow morning," and thereupon rang the bell. In a few moments Jacques appeared, somewhat surprised at being summoned at so late an hour.

"Jacques," said my uncle, "I have been obliged to ring for you"-laying a stress on obliged, and at the same time pointing downwards with his hand-" as I forgot to tell you that I shall require the carriage to-morrow morning at eight o'clock. You must go to Pierre to-night, and tell him to prepare the horses for a long drive." My uncle again pointed downwards, and then raised his hands in an attitude of distress. "Do you understand me, Jacques ?"

“Oui! monsieur," replied Jacques.

But no; Jacques did not understand the danger yet-what was to be done?

"Jacques," said my uncle, “it is a very bad night, is it not? Ah! just the night for highwaymen to attack poor unprotected travellers, or for housebreakers to rob the larders of exposed houses. Do not forget to go to Pierre immediately." Saying this my uncle again made a downward sign, and again raised his hands in suppli cation.

"Good night, Jacques. Do you understand me-about the carriage ?"

For a moment Jacques stood hesitating on the threshold of the door, but in an instant a brighter look came over his face as he answered

"Oui, je comprends bien ce que monsieur veut dire."

He then retired, and my uncle tried to compose himself until help should arrive: but every moment his anxiety grew deeper; he could not but believe there was a man under the bed on which he was lying; for, even had the heel of the boot been a mistake, the laugh could have been no delusion. Again, if a man were really there, it could be for no good purpose: it might be to rob his house, or it might be even to take his life. He calculated that he must already have awaited Jacques's arrival more than an hour, but still he came not. Perhaps he had not understood the fearful prospect before my uncle; perhaps Jacques was even now sleeping calmly, and never dreaming of ill. Then, a still worse thought would steal into his mind perhaps Jacques was an accomplice in the plot, and was to share the booty; yet Jacques had always been faithful and honest, so why distrust him now? As the rain pattered down the chimney, and fell sputtering on the warm logs, my uncle would fancy it was the sound of the pistol in the hands of the robber being cocked and primed for the dire attempt. An hour passed away; and then he fancied he heard a slight movement in the hall. Yes; some one was ascending the staircasetwo or three men were evidently coming up. "Oh!" thought

my uncle, “it is the rest of the gang: all is over with me;" when suddenly his bed-room door was burst open, and in walked the faithful Jacques followed by Pierre and two strong gendarmes. They each carried a lantern; and, whilst one stood at the door, two placed themselves on each side, and the other at the foot of the bed. In another moment two men were dragged from under the valance, both of whom were armed with daggers and pistols.

The gendarmes produced some handcuffs, and placed them on the wrists of the two deplorable-looking fellows, who began to howl piteously during the operation, and threw themselves on their knees, declaring they were starving; that they only intended stealing bread enough to eat; that, as for hurting monsieur, it was the thing farthest from their thoughts. The gendarmes commanded them to be silent, adding that the more they said the worse would be their chance of punishment, and, with the help of Pierre, led them out of the room. In an hour's time they were safely lodged in the lock-up of the neighbouring village. Jacques remained with my uncle, who by this time had forgotten his fright and was full of pity for the two men. Perhaps,” said he, “they really did want bread. I cannot believe they meant to do me personal injury.”

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Jacques tried to dissuade him from this charitable opinion, though, as it turned out, he did not succeed; for, a month afterwards, when their trial came on, my uncle refused to appear against them, declaring that nobody could have intended to perpetrate much mischief who could laugh at his nightcaps; and that, if the men had intended to do him harm, they had had quite sufficient punishment in being shut up for a month. In vain did the village notaire argue the point with him; in vain did the curé declare it was a duty owed to society at large to prosecute the men; and he foretold no good out of such uncalled-for leniency.

My uncle's only reply was that kindness is sure to have its own reward; and to his dying day he always believed that his clemency

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in this instance saved him from any more midnight robbers. For," said he, " had the men been more severely punished they would most likely have made another attempt to murder me, and might even have succeeded; but, as I forgave them, their gratitude preserved me from further annoyance."

My uncle, ever after this, used to declare his belief that good may often grow out of evil; for, without neuralgia, he would never have worn so many nightcaps; and, without the nightcaps, the robber under the bed would not have been tempted to laugh and So betray himself.

WORKING MEN AND FLOWERS.

NE of the pleasantest of the minor social changes which have crept upon us by degrees, within the memory of the present generation, and of which we see increasing evidences with every returning summer, is that predilection for flowers and flowering plants which is fast becoming one of the characteristics of the popular mind. We value it none the less that it is altogether of modern growth; that we have watched its development for the last thirty or forty years, and have seen the household gardens of the middle and humbler classes growing gradually gorgeous and splendid with a show of floral beauty which no one dreamed of in times which we can call to mind.

The popular passion for flowers has, of late years, been greatly fostered by flower-shows, which are now almost general throughout the country. These shows are, nearly without exception, open to all the world; so that any man, whatever his condition in life, may become a competitor if he choose. Hence one is sometimes startled, as well as pleased, by learning who it is that gets the prizes, and