until it was certain that his
wrath was nearly spent. But it is to be feared that, taking counsel of
penuriousness, an attempt will be made to utilize certain sources
which have recently been discovered near the city, and which are not
only insufficient, but impure, instead of bringing, once for all, a
full supply for every purpose from the neighboring mountain lake.

The dragon that haunted the soil of Munich in the old days is still
poisoning the springs and the atmosphere with his pestilent breath,
nor can he be tempted forth to his destruction until he shall see his
reflection mirrored in fountains of pure water.

E.

AMONG THE BLOUSARDS.

When the _miserables_ of the horrible and fascinating old Paris that
people used to read about in the works of Eugene Sue and the elder
Dumas were drawn into the streets of modern Paris by the ragings of
the last revolution, people asked, "Where did these dreadful creatures
come from?" Not only did the well-to-do citizen of Paris, who has his
_habitudes_, and never departs from them, and knows nothing outside of
them, ask this question, but the American or English tourist who was
caught in Paris at the moment asked it. These frightful creatures were
not Parisians, surely? Parisians! Why the very word is redolent of
ess. bouquet! The well-to-do citizen, sipping his black coffee after
dinner in his favorite corner on the Boulevard, explained that they
came from the provinces--"Oui, they were provincials, these
_miserables_" And the tourist knew no better than the citizen where
the Communist demon came from, with his flaring torch, his red eyes,
his flying hair, his hoarse howl, his sturdy tramp, which trampled
civilization in the dust, and his reckless spirit, which let loose all
the devils of incarnate vice for a mad riot. There are no such
creatures as this under the shadow of the Madeleine! We never meet
them on the Boulevard des Italiens! They don't live in the Faubourg
St. Germain! There are none such in the Champs Elysees, even on
Sunday, when, as everybody knows, the lower orders invade the haunts
of the better classes--to wit, ourselves, the tourists.

Nevertheless, these very creatures are still in Paris in great
numbers. The most elegant tourist who has walked the streets of the
French capital this year, though he kept strictly to the choicer
quarters, has touched elbows with these creatures unconsciously; and
if he has ventured into the Belleville quarter,