The Cobbler and the Marquis! CHAPTER IV.

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 171, 25 September 1886, Page 6

The Cobbler and the Marquis!

CHAPTER IV.

Br R. A. BULLEN. [Copyright secured by Auckland Stak.]

On one side of the road from Paris to Versailles, atthe foot of the hill coming from the Forest of Avray, was a straggling line of mean cottages, scarcely better in Borne cases than mere hovels. They took up nearly the whole of the level space between the hill foot and the gates of Versailles, from •which they were separated partly by an expanse of waste, grass-grown, and the resort of gee?e and other poultry that screamed -4»oisily at each passing equipage ; and partly by a few chateaux, jealously hemmed in with high walls. Two poverty-stricken taverns, between whose owners there was the deadly enjnity that is born of com mercial rivalry, courted the roadside to win custom. A view of their soiled and none too fragrant interiors was enough to repel the average traveller? " There was only one other habitation that thrust itself forward, and this was a little cobb'lei's shop with a projecting penthouse, under which the artist in leather could work in fine weather. Being tiue weather, there he was, ao les&a man than our old friend Crepfn, and overhead was a weather-beaten sign whereon was the legend, " Crepin, Cobbler." Immediately opposite, across the road, "was the entrance to the grounds of a fine country mansion, plainly aeen through the open ironwork of the gates, which opned upon a short avenue ot well trimmed horsechestnuts and limes. TMI Lombardy poplars looked over the high walls, and down disdainfully upon the bamlofc acros3 the way. The walks and avenues were strewn deeply with fine white sand, bearing mark 3 of the gardener's rake, serpentining to and fro for effect according to the conventions of the French landscape gardener. The gateway stood in a semicircular recess, and its large square posts were surrounded by fierce-looking monsters of heraldic birth, and were further garnished with armorial bearings. The place had an appearance of ago and almost of decayj telling of the failing fortunes of the occupant. This was apparently contradicted by the freshly painted gates, the newly cleaned stonework, and the evidently wellkept condition of tha grounds. It looked like one of those old family mansions that, after lingering in the hands of the founder's descendants, had fallen into the possession of some wealthy parvenu, who, like a hermit crab, was thus ensconced in a habitation not of hia own rearing, and out of keeping with himself. In short, it bad been one of the grand bargains of MBertrand, and was now occupied by hi 3 widow, the .Marchioness de Frontignac. Crepin was hammering lustily away at Borne obdurate sole-leather, and whistled aa he hammered. Now and then he broke out into a stave of a lively song, never leaving off work the while, for Crepin was one who could whistle and rid*. All industry, however indefatigable, takes an occasional spell, and the cobbler, wiping the perspiration from his red and heated forehead, paused and looked across the road at his aristocratic neighbour's residence. . A slight smile of satisfaction dispelled the look ot fatigue and care that ia natural to the tired artisan, and he looked up and down the road as if he expected to see some one. " I wonder what has become of my poor Marquis," he said. "He has been out a long while, and I'm afraid I've got bat a ehy dinner for him when he comes back ; but there ! he's so good-tempered he'll eat anything. And so humble -ah ! that'B the worst of it. I vriah he had a little more pride, and then he wouldn't live in this hugger - mugger way with me, and let that wife of his roll in luxury t'other side of the way. It's my opinion that a little strap oil would do that lady a wonderful deal of good. Fancy a marquis and a cobbler living together "for nearly a twelvemonth almost like brothers, and a good deal better than come brothers I know of ! I can do anything in the wcrld with him except teach him to mend ahoes,and be a such a bungler at that, that although I'm a terrible stickler for liberty, I'm convinced that equality is all fudge. There must be marquises, and there must be cobblers," and then he began 'to sine " again : — ° *' If I ccrald mend bodies as easy ag soles, I'd keep all the -world to its xeiher ; I'd toon in bad characters patch up the holes, And prove * there is nothing like leather.' " He then fell to searching about his stall for a convenient heel piece. This did not seem to be immediately forthcoming, and his took him some time. While he was m engaged, the great gates of the opposite mansion opened, and the Marchioness, unattended, stepped out, and, after glancing narrowly right and left, walked dlowly over to the pathway near Crepin's 1 stall. Some incertitude was visible in her manner, and she looked rouud again more nervously than before. Sbe he?itated and looked at Crepin, who was apparently quite oblivious of her presence. This wag quite in Crepin's style, though he really might not have perceived her at ail. •' " The creature ia alone," said Hortense to herself, drawing nearer to the man of leather. "Crepin," she said aloud, but not Tery loudly. Crepin pretended not to hear. ' *' What 5b5 b che after now ?" ho paid mutter* ingly ; " no good, I'll be sworn." *« Did you hear me call you, sir?" she Maid, her temper rising. . " Yes, ma'am," well-nigh shouted Crepin, -and he gave bia 1 lapstone a tremendous whack that made Hortense jump in her shoes, and also made the cobbler repeat the rigour of his stroke, "Then why did you not come?" questioned Hortense. «♦ I'm buay," rubbing his thigh where the lapstone had rested. •* I wish to apeak with you," "Speak away, ma'am," returned Crepin, independently; "I can hear." * 4 Have you no respect for rank, fellow ?" returned the Marchiodess. " Yes, ma'am," • rejoined Crepin, with another emphatic stjtbke of his hammer, not quite so heavily given as before. "Then don't forget tnat I am a marchioneag," said the late merchant's late ' ' ' " " When rank forgets itself," said Crepiu, looking queerly up at her, 'fit's no wonder if other people's memories grow short." s Hortense coloured. "What can I do?'! she said, in an aside of . annoyance., "I must speak with him, and every moment I faar the Marquis's return." uShe turned to Crepin' again, •;..'.. ' \ ♦• Ydu have now lived here a twelve* month," abe began, ' , '\ „ " Come next quarter-day," was his reply. "-And you have a person living with Sou, *who ought to be living " "With somebody else. You're quite interrupted the cobbler,

n'« Don't interrupt me," said the. Marshione&s, impatiently. *• ¥our being placed apposite my house is a source of constant mnoyance." ! , '■' u , < " Wo can easily fancy that, ma'am," said Srepin, " > 1 "And I wish you to change- residence."' " V-e-r y likely," returned he, ''but. 10c don't mean to." . , •• • • I'll make it worth your while— I'll settle you in a batter shop." , * , , "I date Ray you* would, ma'am," and Crepin leaned back and enjoyed the situation. " But you see," he continued, his back against the wall behind him, and hid arms folded, " contentment is an awkwaid customer to deal with. I was born a cobbler, and I'm satisfied to die a cobbler. If I had been discontented and ambitious, aovv, as home people are, I might have mode a precious fool of lnyself Jong ugo." ' ♦• Am I to be schooled by a clown ?" she said,- in a fierce undertone. Then, turning to him, she commenced again: "Very well, air, if fair moans won't do, other measures must be taken," and in anger the walked away. " La bless you, ma'am," Crepin called out after her, '' I'm not to be frightened with measures, I'm taking 'era all day long." "Wo Bhall eeo that," she. said, looking buck at him darkly over her Bhouldei\ and then, walking on a few stops, and halting again, t»he murmured, "All my attempts are vain to separate the Marquis from this odious, unfit companion. • The world calls me proud — the 1 world, as usual, is unjust. It; in true I sought him for his title, but when I saw, or thought J Baw, that I could have loved him for himself, I begged him not to sign the contract. .He put the worst conetiuction on a good intent, and sealed the affront by sending me a moesage couched in terms which no woman of spirit could bear. Blame me, Marquis, if you will, tor the hasty plan I formed, but blame yourself fox its result." Inwaidly blaming herself for having bandied words with an underling 1 , Horten?e retraced her ?teps and went towards her own dwelling, Crepin could not refrain from a parting shot. He bad not been able to catch what the Marchioness said, although he had pricked up his ear to do so. v+, ** Good afternoon, ma'am," he cried ; " Well, she don't hear me, but I admit she had to hear somo pretty strong language from a cobbler to a marchioness. Bub the Marquis won't give it her, and I can't bear her not to get it from somebody." He returned to his work, and had made some progress with it when a man, ehabbily dressed, and with a pensive and rather downcast air, came s'owly down the road towards the cobbler's shop. Something of style appeared in his worn attire ; his bearing and clear-cut features showed that he had been, if he had ceased to be, a gentleman. At a closer view, ono could recognise, much altered, the once gay and fashionable Marquis de Frontignac. As he strolled rather than walked along, he gazed for a time at the spreading grounds and noble habitationof hishouee.wifb'a and, with aaigh, shifted his glance to the humble abode of hi 3 partner the cobbler. When within a few paces of Crepin, ha stopped. "Idleness and ambition," be r«aid, "on ono side of the way, industry and humility on the other." At the sound of hig voice, the cobbler looked up, and perceiving vho it was, hastily put his work away and came for ward. "My lord," said he, addressing Frontignac. • My master,"' answered the Marquis, half smiling, half sadly. " Oh, don't say that," replied Crepin, " or, if you do, don't pay it in &uch a serious tone. I'm sure I never said it except in joke." ' 4 My friend, then," said the nobleman shaking hands with the artisan.' " Ah !" cried Crepin, relieved, '• that doea me good. Do you l^now, I'm getting very grand in my notions ? I never shako hands with you without fancying myself half a marquis " j "Judging by my own feelings, I hope you'll never be the other half," returned Frontignac, relapsing into gloom once more. •'Thero, this, won't do, my lord," said Crepin ; "I must fetch your medicine," and he bustled into tho house. "No, no," ejcclaimed Frontienac : "I wish he would not. The medicine is, I fear, worse than the disease." " Come, come, Marquis," said Crepin returning with a flagon and two glaeees. fie filled a glas^ with brandy and handed it to Frontignac. '* You are a cup too low today ; this will put you right ;" he went on, B till offering the liquor. "I doubt it," quoth the Marquis, taking the glaps. ' " Drink first, and doubt afterwards," replied Crepin, pouring out a glass for himself. He bobbed his head to the Marquis, who returnfad with a nod, and both tipped off the spirit. , "Pretty food stuff, ain't it?" inquired Crepin. " Well, it's not bad," acknowledged Frontignac. "Now," said the cobbler, confidingly, " tell us where you've been." The Marquis sighed. " Cropin, 'ho Skid, "I'm a sad burden to you.'" "You never heard me say so," stoutly objected Crepin. ■ • •• Therefore I feel it the more." • ••Why can't you tell me- where you've been?" • The Marquis Bat down on one end of the bench, and twirled and untwirled the ends of'his moustache. - "In the hope o% relieving ydu, I have been round to many who used to call themselves my friends, "and the Marquis sneered.' •• They have one and all turned their backs' on me." 1 >•• I'm glad of it," said Crepin. "If you had any friend but me I should be jealouß. Tafee another glass " "No more, no more," cried Frontignac, holding up one hand. , • "ivot to oblige me," wheedlingly urged the artful Crepin. u "To oblige you I'll do, anything,'^ said Frontignac, and Crepin poured out two glasses more, which they drank off,.Crepin with great gusto. , . . " Damn such friends J" broke, forth, the Marquis. „ „,,,, > - „: , "That's hearty — I like , that," , added Crepin, regarding.the bottle affectionately,' but alluding to Fijontignao'a speech. '. , "Why^houldliemau^with.you?" con«, ' tinued Frontignac. „*' I must bea great expense to you, and I can^earo nothing." . . "Ifc>must be confessed," < admitted the" artisan, " that though a very good Marquis 1 you are a very bad shoemaker." ■ i 1 '' ' "Do you suppose I-forget the'long 1 illness I had when I first came to you",' brought on by disappointment and vexationj 'and that ! you rioronly nursed me^butpaid'the* doctor's till?" • ..,....< n»J.f *»,-.i>. * ' "Well," said.Crepintf'lownl did no« , Rke paying (the dootor?lVFood' and vdrihk seem natural requirements, but doctors are unconscionable.*. It's* bad' enough- to f have to swallow their nasty stuff Without) ;havirig, , to -• pay for it," and Crepin palled > an ' j faco« »}'- f "■ * ' Y"\>'r>\ -s-.,\" *j(f> t /; ( 'i- ! - ,!!Give me another glass/ extending his hand. ,:^u?t */.>*&- „., "Ah, now you're coming to yourself," exclaimed Crepin, pouring out two glasses with alacrity. „ t

" Or getting out oi myself, whiclt ie perhaps better'^ and *th~e^ "Marquia^ttf- a e d off his glass with zest, followed, nothing loth, by ( repin. ">t :repih, tny boy, f don't mean to stand this much longer. Some way or other the prideof that* wife of mine shall be humbled." - < " • ' "Well said, Marquis; it's a. job that doing. I wi.«h you had come a little sooner." v '" ' '« Why, boy, why ?" ( „ . , , "I've had a talk with her," hiccuped Crepin. Both were getting a little mellow. "You haven't been, to her, you old villain, you?" "J'd3eeher hanged first," said the cobbler ; " she's been to me, and I flatter myself I rather told her a bit of my mind,'' and Cropin tossed his head vauntingly. " 1 trust, sir, you did not t forget that she is a marchioness," said the Marquiß loftily, the spirit he h<*d taken moving him. "i'h no," 1 replied Crepin nearly shaking hio head'fOtF with excess of emphasis. "Or that you-are a cobbler ?" i •'Yes — I did forget that,!' said Crepin scratching the edge of hie ear,- "I only remembered th&t I vras the personal friend of her ill-used husband, and I am your friend, aren't 1 ?" "The truest I ever /had," said the Mar guis, phakin^ hands with the.cobbier, " A little drop more." - > \ . ' He held out his glass, which Crepin filled, and in so doing emptied the bottle. " Stop, that't> not fair,'' cried Frontignao ; '• there's none for you." » > "And I'm not norry for it, " ! confessed Crepin j " for another glass just now would" make rae pnfc on double soles instead of single one?," and he sat down on the bench by the Marquis. , " So," yawned the Marquis, leaning on Crepin "s shoulder, "so you told her a bit of your mind, old fellow, did you? • What did *she want?" 11 She wants us to move house." " We'll do nothing of the kind," said the Marquis, slapping his knee forcibly. " That's just what I told her !" " A likely story, just as I have ordered you a new signboard " Crepin louked at Frontignac, and was a little dashed. "I hope," he said; "you haven't been going to more expense. Upon my soul, Marquis, I can't Brand it." " Don't you alarm yourself, old bristles," retofted the nobleman. " Friend Rodolphe is going to pay for it, and as I mean him to marry my nieca, it's all in the family. This now signboard will make your fortune, and here comes the donor." Crepin looked round, and there, in truth, at his elbow, stood too young artist who enjoyed the cobbler's evident aatonish.ment Fjfjntignac led the artist to one side " Will, is it done ?" he asked. "It was done this morning before any on,e was up. When you want it, you have only to remove that one." 11 Kind, thoughtful friend," said the Marquis. "Crepin, you jolly dog, we shall be rich yet. J> " If all my plans succeed, you will," said Rodoipbe, but in so low*a tone that neither Frontignac nor Orepin heard him. , The latter, indeed, looked inquiringly at the Marquis. "And this wonderful effect," he said, "is to be produced by a new signboard, is it ? Egad ! I should like to see it r' " All in good time, don't be in a hurry, thou man of wax," replied Frontignac with little ot his old gaiety. A clash of gates drew all their eyes across the road, and a little white figure woe aeen running across the road. "Here's somebody in a hurry, at all events?," Baid Crepin, shuffling off so as not to be in the way*, for he recognised Cecile at the first glance. "Uncle, dear uncle," gasped Cecile, out of breath, "my aunt is coming out." Frontignac smiled. " With all my heart let her come," said he. "Yes, but you will retire, won't you?" asked Cecile *' Certainly not. The road is wide enough for both of us. ' "Stick to that," said Crepin. "But it's better that you should not meet," urged the girl. •'It would have been better if we had never meet," sullenly answered Frontignac. "Oh, you naughty man," said Cecile," clasping her hands sorrowfully, " You have been to that dreadful cordial again." " Don't you call it a , dreadful cordial, because it's a very nice cordial. It makes me forget my poverty, forget my wrongs, and feel a man again." , "You'll never reach happiness by that road, uncle- The bottle is a sorry substitute for the true spirit of a man." " Don't lecture nae, you little baggage," returned-the Marques fraetioualy and knowing that he was in the wrong; "don't lecture me But everybody does, everybody except-.," looking ,at Crepin, "the only r^an that has a tight." , , t This gave Cecile an excuse for looking and discovering/r for the first time; 1 of course, that some one else, besides her uncle and Crepin, was present. , " Rodolphe here!" she exclaimed in nearly real surprise. " Kodclphe here !" mimicked Frontignac; " why, you're quite surprised, • aren't you?" . . i • .. " Indeed I am," said Cecile. "Of course you are," laughed Frontignac j " you thought ' he wasn't here, and that's the reason you came." " I knew nothing about him,you naughty man," protested his niece; "but help me, Rodolphe, to persuade the Marquis to' retire." ■ < • *:. • " Cecile is indeed right," said Rodolphe approaching Frentignac ; •■** you had better. , not meet the Marchioness, at all events just now.". ' , ■ . - i * • '■* "That is to say," replied, the Marquis, " if I don't immediately go away, you won't be left alone with Cecile. I perfectly understand you, and I wish you a very good afternoon.. Gome along* old Crepin, come 1 .to your kennel like a good dog." " " Havo with you, my jolly Marquis, I do love to seeyou merry," said the cobbler and, they both walked considerately into the 1 house, , ' ! ',"'" ' Rodolphe waited tiir they were out of hearing, and then addressed Cecile. "I am glad the Marquis miiunderstood , me, for ifc is indeed an unexpected pleasure •to be once more alone with you." ' ' ' ' | . Cecile stood shyly with' one shoulder j turned towards Rodolphe, alternately poising herself upon one foot and the other. Timidly (orcoquettishly ?) glancing at the young artist, she ; said i" tJ - ','" ! "It is'^ a happiness whioh t must,,b'» of short duration then, -for my aiirit will be here directly and you had better 'run away,"' and then she gave' him a h smile lest* he lahould really take ■to flight; ' '•"*' ' ' "Is'all the-yorld'tti 1 fly before 1 'this aunts 'of yours ? MttstCevety' one f iear|'her ?" ' , "Oh dear no ! ybu Ve'an ' lobe her ' fr you, like; I beliey^ydudido?ic^." * / !lt " xJ I "*' ? Cecile," ufg'ed the'-'youne^jaaan with feeling, " IHpray' rcjod^l those ■moments of" insanity*, 1 -those r 'xftoixfents' jwhen-" . „ r l;V j ; !« 'SVwas'air'y'oW^ ?»«e# "£airitea'M? " demurely suggested the girl; with' an arch look, I'-*1 '-* A*mu-A frn&p v *"k»w (< Cecile, you are too cruel ! She refused me, and. lam grateful that she did. The time has arrived when success beyond my

- T! , ■ 7i^ r-p-n — r*-, m — ; — r~ nerita • justifies 'my asking consent to fay union with Her niece 1 ! " v/« ' /«' «i'^< ' " ' " Sho will^efuee' you ) again; and," she idded; looking down ruefully, 1 "]> suppose fou will be 'grateful again." ' ' "i" i •* She turned her back upon Rodplphe 'and walked slowly a' few paces farther away; Dossibly' to encourage him. "' •' Let her," replied 'the artisb in"a tone of Jefiance, •'I'have your uncle's consent." ' "My poor uncle!" SShye v refuses to <J acknowledge his authority,"' ' •' ' "The law f may clafanoe to 'icliff&r 'from ier.", "• ■• • ""' "'; ' ' ■ Oecile was about'lo make some 'laughing retort, when ' her iace suddenly^ 1 became' blank. Across the road; looking ati them, is she possibly had been for some ! minutes, was the Marchioness, and as Bodn' as she w£>B perceived she walked across the road towards them. ' ♦• There," said' Cecile; " I told you how it would be ! We are caught." Rodolphe did hot, for his part, seem very much to care, and calmly 'awaited the ap^ proach of the aforetime Widow' BeMraßd. " Cecile^ I have been searching for you avery where," began the ' Marchi6ness' ; " with whom do I find you talking ?" " To one," said Kodolphe, whom she had ignored; "who seeks the honour of renew- 1 ing his acquaintance with the Marchioness ie Frontififnao." . • < " "Rodolphe!" paid Horterise, elevating her eyebrows. " The artist," ho replied, bowing respectfully,' "who would beg'five minutes' con ver- • nation. " c '< ' < mi .-. After a momentary hesitation/Hortense, burning to her niece, said, "Cecile. you may leave us ; I Bhall not go out ju3t'yet." The young girl made no reply, but in passing the artist, managed to whisper, " Now mjhd what you are about, sir !'' and then disappeared within the gates and entered her aunt's house. For a minute or two the artist appeared to be collecting his thoughts, and HortenEe wondered to herself what it was he had to say. Had he come to renew his auit, despite her condition 1 Or was he simply calling as an artist and for a commission ? His manner forbade that surmise, and if it were unjust to entertain the first suspicion, why waa he so backward in stating his deeires ? Rodolphe himself put the matter at rest. " There was a time," he began, " when I flattered myself that 1 and my happiness were not indifferent to you;" "You will bear in mind, she said with a stern look, "whom you are addressing." The young man coloured and bit his lip He had not expected to have been picked up so quickly and so unjustly. " Listen and fear nothing," he replied. " At one time I loved you."' 11 Do you call this language that I can listen to ?" she demanded, her colour in turn rising, as she drew herself up and looked at him fixedly. " With porfect safety," loftily returned Rodolphe. " You rejected me for an empty title, and sacrificed my hopes to your ambition." "lam happy to perceive that your vanity survives the loss," with a' slight curl of her lip. She amiled as she half turned from him, and dropped her head a little to one side. " I come not to provoke you, but to entreat you," proceeded the artist. "I suffered much on your account ; it is yet in your power to make amends." " Your language grows insulting, sfr ; you must forget that I am married." j "I wish I could, for your sake," quietly added Rodolphe as he trimmod his nails. " If my husband were present, you would not dare to address me thus." s "I have nothing to fear from him,' : smilingly responded the artist. " Bravery shows well,. sir, when no dangei is at band. ; ' "Nay," said Rodolphe, *' your husband lives close by — shall I call him ?" Hortense could hardly keep back hei tears, but her pride forbade retreat. "Your conduct is unmanly, sir," said shej with indignation. , "Stay," said Rodolphe, lifting one hand, "you mistake me strangely." He had dropped his tone of light banter, and spoke gravely. " I seek your happiness as well as my own. Your project of ambition ha? sadly failed. The world respects you far less as the Mmrchioness de Frontignac than as Hortenae, the merchant's widow." "I hate the world." " You loved it once, and lived for it. It would have honoured you if you would have suffered it. It slights you "because you slight the man to whom you owe your elevation." " May I take the liberty of inquiring," ehe asked, " to what I am indebted for this unlooked-for interference ?" "I simply seek the right to show a stronger interest in > your affairs,"' he answered. "I love your niece Cecile, and I come to ask your consentto our marriage." ' " Having, 1 no doubt, obtained hers first." f' I believe I. may say so," said Rodolphe. 'Hortense knitted her brow's. She had been led. 'astray in her judgment of the artist's motives', and had done him wrong ia misjudging him. Bride and honour contended within her for the mastery, and honour won. i* , r ■ "You have read me a rather sharp le?son," she said, " and may claim some credit for courage in asking- me a favour so soon afterward? ; but if I' am ambitious, and 'believe me I begin to be- ! less so than I was, I am ,rot revengefulr.vtft is true the niece of the Marchioness de Frontignac might look a little higher,,, Jbut I know your worth, and will not oppose your wishes." Rodolpfiete fape lighted up^ directly. Such "a ready assent was more than he looked for. vjr*. c"• *\ • " A thousand thanks,' said he, "for this unexpected kindness," Salutations passed between them, and: Horterisb returned to her residence, leaving the 'yOung artist- deep iri a- delightful reverie.' For a v full quarter of an hour he stood in One ptoition, heedless' of hia surroundings. '<But while bodily motionless, his mind ran through and revelled "in a paradise of gay^fanciea, 1 and • a glorious future opened before* him in which thought ran riot. , , From these pleasant cogitations, he waa awakened by t^o sound of voices in the cobbler's ;house. jßTis present mood was 1 one that would not brook intrusion, and he .walked^quickly aw'ayto brood over hie happy fortune. „ t s -. >t(To be Continued.) •«- '• . *

,Th c times are showing signs of revival in Sydney!, an d,§uWrban to.wn.Bhip lands ;wero sold by' th,e GroVernnient la,st week at the r^te , oC'£ ( l ? 200 N per, acre,, v , There wer,e about 4,000 people aljtht) sale... „, A , ti , It iaTprpp^edj in^Geri^any, to, atar,t a Teuton bank ' in " Australia f under State surveillance 5 ." ' A lot of hoh^Te'uton bankers in Australia aTe'jus't'nov«' :i tinder'the > aur i veil-', lance of thV'SMSi/ 1 ' 1 - 1 : *'; t( T"' '',. V' l> ': world aaide," It is ,feopod t^at tbe ,^i)l 4° notKihg of the kin'd^Tbe , wpjld mig^t. go,, bu'nipi^g up some, thp, othtqc pfan'e^, ;v an^, , ,'|ri^h|en timid . , mto (i , A Tiewepaper paragraph Baya tha^ythe piles of old London Bridge, putf'down' in the year 900, are still sound, the water and the blue mud of the Thames having preserved them,