obinson's buildings, steadily rising
from the midst of acres of ruins, while men's minds were agitated by the
bombardment and its results, produced a sense of security which had a
most beneficial and quietening effect on the town! Indeed, one officer
of high rank went so far as to say that the Institute scheme had given
the inhabitants more confidence in the intentions of England than
anything yet done or promised by Government!

In a rocking-chair beside the sergeant reclined a shadow in loose--
remarkably loose--fitting soldier's costume.

"What a blessed place to sit in and rest after the toils and sufferings
of war," said Hardy, to the shadow, "and how thankful I am to God for
bringing me here!"

"It's a hivenly place intirely," responded the shadow, "an' 'tis mesilf
as is thankful too--what's left o' me anyhow, an' that's not much. Sure
I've had some quare thoughts in me mind since I come here. Wan o' them
was--what is the smallest amount o' skin an' bone that's capable of
howldin' a thankful spirit?"

"I never studied algebra, Flynn, so it's of no use puttin' the question
to me," said Hardy; "besides, I'm not well enough yet to tackle
difficult questions, but I'm real glad to see you, my boy, though there
_is_ so little of you to see."

"That's it, sarjint; that's just where it lies," returned Flynn, in a
slow, weak voice. "I've bin occupied wi' that question too--namely, how
thin may a man git widout losin' the power to howld up his clo'es?"

"You needn't be uneasy on that score," said Hardy, casting an amused
glance at his companion, "for there's plenty o' flesh left yet to keep
ye goin' till you get to old Ireland. It rejoices my heart to see you
beside me, thin though you are, for the report up country was that you
had died on the way to Suez."

"Bad luck to their reports! That's always the way of it. I do think
the best way to take reports is to belaive the exact opposite o' what's
towld ye, an' so ye'll come nearest the truth. It's thrue I had a close
shave. Wan day I felt a sort o' light-hiddedness--as if I was a kind o'
livin' balloon--and was floatin' away, whin the doctor came an' looked
at me.

"`He's gone,' says he.

"`That's a lie!' says I, with more truth than purliteness, maybe.

"An' would ye belave it?--I began to mind from that hour! It was the
doctor saved me widout intindin' to--good luck to him! Anyhow he kep'
me from slippin' my cable that time, but it was the good nurs