ls is drowned by orchestras of music;
the roofs and sides of the machine buildings are covered all over with
roses; and the smell of smoke and machine oil is prevented by scattering
delicious perfumes. The minds of the populace are turned from the
precarious condition of things by all sorts of public amusements, such
as mask balls, theatres, operas, public gardens, etc.

But all this does not preserve some persons from the continual
apprehension that there will be one day a great and terrific explosion.
Some say the city is sleeping over volcanic fires, which will sooner or
later burst up from below and destroy or change the whole upper surface.
The actual state of things might be represented on canvas by a gaping,
laughing crowd pressing around a Punch-and-Judy exhibition in the
street, beneath a great ruined palace in the process of repairing, where
the rickety scaffolding, the loose stones and mortar, and in fact the
whole rotten building, may at any moment topple down upon their heads.

But while such grave thoughts are passing in the minds of some people, I
must relate one or two amusing scenes which lately occurred at the city
gates.

Travellers are not prohibited from going and coming; but on entering, it
is necessary to be sure that they bring with their passports and baggage
no prohibited or dangerous articles. A young man from our side of the
Atlantic, engaged in commerce, had been annoyed a good deal by the
gate-officers opening and searching his baggage. The next time he went
to Grindwell, he brought, besides his usual trunks and carpet-bags, a
rather large and very mysterious-looking box. After going through with
the trunks and bags, the officers took hold of this box.

"Gentlemen," said the young practical joker, "I have great objections
to having that box opened. Yet it contains, I assure you, nothing
contraband, nothing dangerous to the peace of the Grindwell government
or people. It is simply a toy I am taking to a friend's house as a
Christmas present to his little boy. If I open it, I fear I shall have
difficulty in arranging it again as neatly as I wish,--and it would be a
great disappointment to my little friend Auguste Henri, if he should not
find it neatly packed. It would show at once that it had been opened;
and children like to have their presents done up nicely, just as they
issued from the shop. Gentlemen, I shall take it as a great favor, if
you will let it pass."

"Sir," said the head