is the Feast
of Onions, yet it does not appear that that odorous esculent need
actually be present; besides, even if it were, surely a garland of
"well-turned" onions would add strength to the picturesque ropes of
theatrical paper roses. The well, too, would replace with a certain
grace the too familiar pole. And again, since all ages and conditions
assist at this feast, it would utilize that extraordinary company of
figurantes, varying from the longest and slimmest to the shortest
and plumpest, which every manager thinks it incumbent to put upon
the stage for the rural fete. Finally, to complete the tableau
satisfactorily, it appears that this year at Gonnelieu, at the height
of the dancing, half a dozen gendarmes rushed upon the scene, causing
a general stampede among the disciples of the onion and a hasty
adjournment of the festival. What law against irregular assemblages
was infringed by these onion-worshipers is not clear, for one can
hardly detect sedition lurking under the rustic ditty, and it is
equally difficult to suspect an Orsini bomb conspiracy of being
typified by the conjuring of prodigious prize onions.

It is a vast pity that so many excellent stories are "almost too good
to be true." Such a tale seems to be the one which explains the origin
of that prodigious collection of monkeys that forms so large a part of
the population of the Jardin d'Acclimation in Paris; and yet, as this
curious account has not been questioned, so far as we are aware, by
those who ought to know the facts, it is hardly gracious in us
to begin the relation of it by gratuitous skepticism. A Bordeaux
ship-owner, who is noted for insisting on a strict obedience to
instructions on the part of his captains, some time ago gave written
orders to one of the latter to bring back from Brazil, whither he was
going, one or two monkeys--"_Rapportez-moi 1 ou 2 singes_." The _ou_
was so badly written that the captain read "1002 singes;" and
the result was that the owner, three months after, found his ship
returning, to his utter stupefaction, overrun with monkeys from
keel to mast-head. However, inflexibly just even in his surprise,
he recognized the fault to be that of his own hasty handwriting, and
praised the scrupulous captain who had executed his apparent order
even to the odd pair of monkeys over the thousand. For a week apes
were a drug in the Bordeaux market, and, adds the story, the Jardin,
hearing the news, took care not to lose so