s accurate and brilliant descriptions
by Glaisher, Tissandier, De Fonvielle and Dupuis-Delcour, has nothing
more graphic and absorbing than some of the accounts dashed off in the
white heat of enthusiasm by these and other American journalists. The
nervousness and chaffing before the start; the thrill and wonder of the
upward rush; the strange exhilaration coming with relivening confidence;
the unspeakable loveliness and grandeur of the prospect; the thousand
varied incidents of the too-brief journey; the short, sharp excitement
of the landing; the awe and curiosity of the impromptu crowd invariably
on the ground before the balloon, and reluctantly leaving it only when
the last whiff of gas is rolled out of it and the last rope thrown into
the wagon; the moonlight ride to the station with the gas-bag for a
pillow and the brain too busy with the strangeness of the day for much
talk,--all this and more, in endless diversity of circumstance and
treatment, these gentlemen have embalmed for the curious millions who
cannot or will not go "up in a balloon."

WILL O. BATES.

ADAM AND EVE.

CHAPTER XXII.

The month of December was well advanced before Eve's letter had reached
Reuben May. It came to him one morning when, notwithstanding the fog
which reigned around, Reuben had arisen in more than usually good
spirits, able to laugh at his neighbors for railing against weather
which he declared was good weather and seasonable.

The moment the postman entered the shop his heart gave a great
bound--for who but Eve would write to him?--and no sooner had his eyes
fallen on the handwriting than his whole being rejoiced, for surely
nothing but good news could be heralded by such glad feelings. With a
resolute self-denial, of which on most occasions Reuben was somewhat
proud, he refused himself the immediate gratification of his desires,
and with a hasty glance laid the letter on one side while he entered
into a needlessly long discussion with the postman, gossiped with a
customer--for whose satisfaction he volunteered a minute inspection of a
watch which might have very reasonably been put off until the
morrow--and finally (there being nothing else by which the long-coveted
pleasure could be further delayed) he took up the letter and carefully
turned it first this side and then that before breaking the seal and
unfolding the paper.

What would it say? That she was coming back--coming home? But when? how
soon? In a mont