and blossoming plants.

During the king's stay in Munich in the winter he takes but little
part in the gayeties of the season. He conforms, indeed, to the
customs of a court in giving the stated number of balls, dinners and
concerts; but it is easy to see that necessity, and not inclination,
prompts him to the task. There is plenty of work to occupy his mind
during the session of Parliament, and books enough to read and ponder
over in the solitude of his chamber; and so long as he is alert and
well prepared on every question of business to which his attention
is called, affable and polite to persons with whom he is brought into
official contact, gentle and generous to the poor and oppressed who
appeal to him in person--and no one can deny that he is all this--why
should he be blamed for preferring to spend his time as

A being breathing thoughtful breath,

instead of making himself a gazing-stock for the curious and a
companion of the gay and the foolish of his generation?

It may be that in the far-off future, long after the titles and
prerogatives of royalty shall have been done away with and wellnigh
forgotten, the virtues of this king, who is so poorly appreciated by
his contemporaries, will be commemorated in some beautiful legend,
like that of his favorite story of the Swan-Knight; since even now,
when that chaste hero appears in the dazzling purity of his enchanted
armor upon the Munich stage, one turns involuntarily to recognize his
counterpart in the solitary occupant of the royal box. E.E.

ON THE CHURCH STEPS.

CHAPTER X.

Lenox again, and bluebirds darting to and fro among the maples. I had
reached the hotel at midnight. Our train was late, detained on the
road, and though my thoughts drove instantly to the Sloman cottage,
I allowed the tardier coach-horses to set me down at the hotel. I had
not telegraphed from New York. I would give her no chance to withhold
herself from me, or to avoid me by running away. There was no time
for her, as yet, to have read of the ship's arrival. I would take her
unawares.

So, after the bountiful Nora, who presides over the comfort of her
favorites, had plied me with breakfast-cakes and milk and honey, I
sauntered down toward the Lebanon road. Yes, sauntered, for I felt
that a great crisis in my life was at hand, and at such times a
wonderful calmness, almost to lethargy, possesses me. I went slowly up
the hill. The church-clock was striking nine--calm,