no reply, but floated from out the bowers of the sky, and
all the rivers and lakes and seas, all the forests and fields, all the
beasts and birds and men smiled at its coming. Gardens bloomed,
orchards ripened, silver wheat-fields turned to gold, fleecy clouds
went sailing in the lofty heaven, the pinions of birds and the sails of
vessels were gently wafted onward, and health and happiness were
everywhere. The foliage and flowers and fruits and harvests, the
warmth and sparkle and gladness and beauty and life were the only
answer Zephyr gave to the insolent question of the proud but pitiless
East Wind.

The story goes that Queen Victoria once expressed herself to her
husband in rather a despotic tone, and Prince Albert, whose manly
self-respect was smarting at her words, sought the seclusion of his own
apartment, closing and locking the door. In about five minutes some
one knocked.

"Who is it?" inquired the Prince.

"It is I. Open to the Queen of England!" haughtily responded her
Majesty. There was no reply. After a long interval there came a
gentle tapping and the low spoken words: "It is I, Victoria, your
wife." Is it necessary to add that the door was opened, or that the
disagreement was at an end? It is said that civility is to a man what
beauty is to a woman: it creates an instantaneous impression in his
behalf.

The monk Basle, according to a quaint old legend, died while under the
ban of excommunication by the pope, and was sent in charge of an angel
to find his proper place in the nether world. But his genial
disposition and great conversational powers won friends wherever he
went. The fallen angels adopted his manner, and even the good angels
went a long way to see him and live with him. He was removed to the
lowest depths of Hades, but with the same result. His inborn
politeness and kindness of heart were irresistible, and he seemed to
change the hell into a heaven. At length the angel returned with the
monk, saying that no place could be found in which to punish him. He
still remained the same Basle. So his sentence was revoked, and he was
sent to Heaven and canonized as a saint.

The Duke of Marlborough "wrote English badly and spelled it worse," yet
he swayed the destinies of empires. The charm of his manner was
irresistible and influenced all Europe. His fascinating smile and
winning speech disarmed the fiercest hatred and made friends of the
bitterest enemies.

A gentleman took