.

."-- a whisper concealed the rest.
"Gracious powers! is it so ?" said Codlingsby, musing.

He entered into Holywell Street.

The sun was sinking.
"It is time," said he, "to go and fetch Armida to the Olympic." PHIL FOGARTY.
A TALE OF THE FIGHTING ONETY-ONETH.
BY HARRY ROLLICKER.
I.
The gabion was ours.

After two hours' fighting we were in possession of the first embrasure, and made ourselves as comfortable as circumstances would admit.