aking his revenge.

The wonderful cure was the talk of the neighborhood, whenever Monsieur
Bonelle appeared in the streets, jauntily flourishing his cane. In the
first frenzy of his despair, Ramin refused to pay; he accused every
one of having been in a plot to deceive him; he turned off Catharine
and expelled his porter: he publicly accused the lawyer and priest of
conspiracy; brought an action against the doctor and lost it. He had
another brought against him for violently assaulting Marguerite, in
which he was cast in heavy damages. Monsieur Bonelle did not trouble
himself with useless remonstrances, but when his annuity was refused,
employed such good legal arguments, as the exasperated mercer could
not possibly resist.

Ten years have elapsed, and MM. Ramin and Bonelle still live on. For a
house which would have been dear at fifty thousand francs, the draper
has already handed over seventy thousand.

The once red-faced, jovial Ramin is now a pale haggard man, of sour
temper and aspect. To add to his anguish he sees the old man thrive on
that money which it breaks his heart to give. Old Marguerite takes a
malicious pleasure in giving him an exact account of their good cheer,
and in asking him if he does not think Monsieur looks better and
better every day. Of one part of this torment Ramin might get rid, by
giving his old master notice to quit, and no longer having him in his
house. But this he cannot do; he has a secret fear that Bonelle would
take some Excellent Opportunity of dying without his knowledge, and
giving some other person an Excellent Opportunity of persecuting him,
and receiving the money in his stead.

The last accounts of the victim of Excellent Opportunities represent
him as being gradually worn down with disappointment. There seems
every probability of his being the first to leave the world; for
Bonelle is heartier than ever.

* * * * *

[FROM HOUSEHOLD WORDS.]

THE OLD CHURCHWARD TREE.

A PROSE POEM.

There is an old yew tree which stands by the wall in a dark quiet
corner of the churchyard.

And a child was at play beneath its wide-spreading branches, one fine
day in the early spring. He had his lap full of flowers, which the
fields and lanes had supplied him with, and he was humming a tune to
himself as he wove them into garlands.

And a little girl at play among the tombstones crept near to listen;
but the boy was so intent upon his garland, that h