little hearts would break.

Maya pressed the poppy-juice on the eyes of each individual, and in a
few seconds they were all in a profound sleep. He then examined the
transformations, and completed those which were partial above or
below--till then he could not repair his wand. When they were all
transformed, he put the two parts of his wand together, breathed upon
them, and the wand was reunited. He then went round the circle, touched
each person, and the whole company resumed their original forms.

"So far have I done my part," observed Maya. "As for colds, catarrhs,
fevers, agues, they deserve all they may catch. Now, Elda, let us once
more retire to rest."

The leaves of the old oak-tree were gilded with the rays of the morning
sun, before King Charles and his companions awoke, and very much
astonished they were to find themselves in such a place and at such an
hour--the ladies blushed and canvassed the affair among themselves--they
recollected the transformations, they remembered their setting off for
the Hunter's Oak--but still they were confused. The mayor and aldermen
were puzzled--not so much at finding themselves asleep under the tree,
but that their wives should be there also. The king and Rochester were
the only two who appeared indifferent.

"Come, ladies--come, my lord mayor and gentlemen of the corporation, we
have had a merry night of it, and have slept under the greenwood tree,
now let us in to the toilet, and then to breakfast."

He offered his arm to the lady mayoress, the rest of the company
followed--they hastened to the toilet--they ate their breakfasts, and
then hastened back to the good city of London.

"Well," said the king, as soon as the company had departed, "what think
you of this, Rochester--were we visited by the fairies last night, think
you?"

"May it please your Majesty," replied the earl, "my opinion is that
either we were in the hands of the fairies, or else----"

"Else what?"

"Or else, Sire, we were all most confoundedly drunk."

A Rencontre

One evening I was sitting alone in the _salle a manger_ of the _Couronne
d'Or_, at Boulogne, when Colonel G----, an old acquaintance, came in.
After the first greeting he took a chair, and was soon as busily
occupied as I was with a cigar, which was occasionally removed from our
lips as we asked and replied to questions as to what had been our
pursuits subsequent to our last rencontre. After about half an hour's
chit-chat,