rk, 'it's the
nearest! Is it not the nearest?'

Master Sweepstakes with anxiety examined the hit. There could be no
doubt. Ben was victorious! The bow, the prize bow, was now delivered to
him; and Hal, as he looked at the whipcord, exclaimed:

'How _lucky_ this whipcord has been to you, Ben!'

'It is _lucky_, perhaps, you mean, that he took care of it,' said Mr.
Gresham.

'Ay,' said Hal, 'very true; he might well say, "Waste not, want not." It
is a good thing to have two strings to one's bow.'

FOOTNOTES:

[A] _Vide_ Priestley's 'History of Vision,' chapter on coloured shadows.

The Bunch of Cherries

On the first day of May, Madame de Clinville, the widow of a Notary of
Paris, conducted her daughter, fourteen years of age, to the delightful
garden of the Tuileries, there to breathe the pure air of spring and the
sweet perfumes from its flowers. In passing through the walks leading to
the royal palace, the young lady's attention was attracted by one of the
shops, supplied with the choicest and most rare fruits; among which was
a bunch of cherries, arranged with so much taste, and so prettily
intermixed with fresh green leaves, that she could not forbear
expressing to her mother her anxious desire to have those cherries,
notwithstanding she could foresee at that season they must be
extravagantly dear. Madame de Clinville, who never denied her daughter
anything, and who was in general very plain and moderate in her
inclinations, purchased the bunch of cherries, although dear, and
proceeded with her dear Emmelina--her daughter's name--to the Tuileries.

Having surveyed the beautiful walks of this truly enchanted place, they
seated themselves on chairs under the shade of a large chestnut tree.
It was scarcely ten o'clock in the morning, the hour most agreeable for
walking, and frequently the most retired, as the fashionables of Paris
seldom make their appearance before three or four o'clock, and in a
_deshabille_ that bespeaks them just arisen from their beds, as if to
behold the sun for the first time. As such, Madame de Clinville and her
daughter met with very little company.

The only object that struck their attention was a lady with the remains
of beauty, whose external appearance indicated a person of quality,
accompanied by a young lady, nearly Emmelina's age, dressed in white and
a small green hat ornamented with a wreath of white pearls, which shaded
the most amiable countenance. They both came