, I say; make
examples. The foxes escape, and our poor ganders suffer!"

Aristo, pierced with his own misery, had no heart or head to enter into
the semi-political ideas of Jucundus, who continued,--

"Yes, it's no good. The empire's coming to pieces, mark my words! I told
you so, if those beasts were let alone. They _have_ been let alone.
Remedies are too late. Decius will do no good. No one's safe! Farewell, my
friends! I am going. Like poor dear Callista, I shall be in prison, and,
like her, find myself dumb!... Ah! yes, Callista; how did you find her?"

"O dear, sweet, suffering girl!" cried her brother.

"Yes, indeed!" answered Jucundus; "yes!" meditatively. "She _is_ a dear,
sweet, suffering girl! I thought he might perhaps have taken her off--that
was my hope. He was so set upon hearing where she was, whether she could
be got out. It struck me he had made the best of his way to _her_. She
could do anything with him. And she loved him, she did!--I'm convinced of
it!--nothing shall convince me otherwise! 'Bring them together,' I said,
'and they will rush into each other's arms.' But they're bewitched!--The
whole world's bewitched! Mark my words,--I have an idea who is at the
bottom of this."

"Oh!" groaned out Aristo; "I care not for top or bottom!--I care not for
the whole world, or for anything at all but Callista! If you could have
seen the dear, patient sufferer!" and the poor fellow burst into a flood
of tears.

"Bear up! bear up!" said Jucundus, who by this time was considerably
better; "show yourself a man, my dear Aristo. These things must be;--they
are the lot of human nature. You remember what the tragedian says: stay!
no!--it's the comedian,--it's Menander"----

"To Orcus and Erebus with all the tragedy and comedy that ever was
spouted!" exclaimed Aristo. "Can you do nothing for me? Can't you give me
a crumb of consolation or sympathy, encouragement or suggestion? I am a
stranger in the country, and so is this dear sister of mine, whom I was so
proud of; and who has been so good, and kind, and gentle, and sweet. She
loved me so much, she never grudged me anything; she let me do just what I
would with her. Come here, go there,--it was just as I would. There we
were, two orphans together, ten years since, when I was double her age.
She wished to stay in Greece; but she came to this detestable Africa all
for me. She would be gay and bright when I would have her so. She had no
will of her own; and she