rest. But
as she lay, she looked beyond her sandy bed to see the lovely face of
her early meadow life, when she was but a humble Brook. Pale and ghastly
it lay upon a rounded stone; the hair floating out like fairy circles
from the marked brow, and on the temple such a purple thickened stain as
once had been upon the willow stump.

The Brook came by her side and watched her gently as she lay. Then going
farther out, the Brook brought strings of sea-weed, and strung them
gayly and softly round her form, and watched her thus again. "Here will
I stay," thought the Brook, "and fancy I am still in the sunlight meadow
before I wandered forth into ambitious company. There's nought but
trouble and pain crossed my path since the rainy days of the latest
spring-time. Here will I stay, and ever mourn that I listened to
ambitious counselling."

LAST CASE OF THE SUPERNATURAL.

A writer in the January number of _Fraser's Magazine_, at the conclusion
of a tale crammed with the intensest horrors, presents us with one
instance in which the architect of such machinery was foiled.

When the recital was finished, and the company were well-nigh breathless
with its skilfully cumulative terror, cried Tremenheere--

"Humph! that is rather an uncomfortable story to go to bed upon."

And presently--

"You have been lately in Spain, Melton; what news from Seville?"

"Oh," replied Melton, "you must have heard of Don Juan de Murana, of
terrible memory?"

"Not we," said they.

"One gloomy evening Don Juan de Murana was returning along the quay
where the Golden Tower looks down upon the Guadalquivir, so lost in
thought that it was some time before he perceived that his cigar had
gone out, though he was one of the most determined smokers in Spain. He
looked about him, and beheld on the other side of the broad river an
individual whose brilliant cigar sparkled like a star of the first
magnitude at every aspiration.

"Don Juan, who, thanks to the terror which he had inspired, was
accustomed to see all the world obedient to his caprices, shouted to the
smoker to come across the river and give him a light.

"The smoker, without taking that trouble, stretched out his arm towards
the Don, and so effectually that it traversed the river like a bridge,
and presented to Don Juan a glowing cigar, which smelt most abominably
of sulphur.

"If Don Juan felt something like a rising shudder, he suppressed it,
coolly lighted his own cigar at