In due time Laura alighted at the book store, and began to look at the titles of the handsome array of books on the counter.

A dapper clerk of perhaps nineteen or twenty years, with hair accurately parted and surprisingly slick, came bustling up and leaned over with a pretty smile and an affable-- "Can I--was there any particular book you wished to see ?" "Have you Taine's England ?" "Beg pardon ?" "Taine's Notes on England." The young gentleman scratched the side of his nose with a cedar pencil which he took down from its bracket on the side of his head, and reflected a moment: "Ah--I see," [with a bright smile]--"Train, you mean--not Taine.

George Francis Train.

No, ma'm we--" "I mean Taine--if I may take the liberty." The clerk reflected again--then: "Taine.

.