lf in earnest, we entered the little
town of Letterkenny, just as night was falling.

"If you'll be our guest for this evening, sir," said Hill, "we shall be
happy to have your company."

I accepted the invitation, and followed them into the inn.

(_To be continued._)

THE UNNAMED SHELL.

At the corner of the boulevard Montmartre, near the angle of the
faubourg, is situated a magazine of natural history, that continually
draws around its windows groups of curious idlers. Open the door, walk
in, and, in place of a mere merchant, you will be surprised to encounter
an artist and a scholar. The man is still young, yet he has explored a
portion of Southern Africa; and has joined in formidable chases of
elephants, lions, and all the wild animals of those barbarous regions.
He has sought his treasures of natural history in Java, Sumatra, Borneo,
China, and Cochin-China; has visited Batavia, Samarang and Madura; and
returned to Paris rich in knowledge and collections.

It is rarely that you will find him alone. The laboratory of the
boulevard Montmartre is the rendezvous of all the scholars, travelers,
naturalists, artists, and authors, who bask in the sunshine of
celebrity. Temming, the old glory, yet with so much youth about him, of
natural history; Wilson, collector for his brother in the immense
undertaking of completing the museum of Philadelphia; Philippe Rousseau,
who bestows life and animation on the animals which he paints; Ledieu,
Leon Gozlan, Biard; Delgorgue, the intrepid chaser of elephants;
Lageroniere, who was for one instant on the point of becoming the king
of a savage tribe, and of whom Dumas, in his "Thousand and One
Phantoms," has related in so improbable a manner a fabulous episode of
real adventures; Gray, whom London cites with pride among its
naturalists; Mitchell, director of the London Zoological Gardens; Henry
Monnier, the sparkling reflection of Moliere; Alphonse Karr; Deshayes,
for whom conchology and the labyrinths of its classifications have no
further mysteries; De Lafresnage, chief of ornithologists; Emile
Blanchard, who spends his life in the dissection of living atoms, or
beings almost microscopical; Delamarre-Piquot, who travels from one
world to another, to gather the alimentary substances with which he
wishes to endow Europe; M. Michelin, who consecrates his rare holidays
to an unrivaled collection of polypi; there they are to be found, every
day, studying, admiring, copying,