small clothes, and had wings of blue and gold, like those of the dragon fly, folded upon his shoulders in such a manner that they resembled a Spanish cloak. On his head he wore a long, tapering cap, in the front of which was a jewel, or brilliant, that made a light around him. He had also on his feet long pointed shoes, like those anciently worn in England, and as he paced to and fro, his shoes and cap waved lightly, like the antennæ of the mammoth butterfly. In his left hand he held a tiny book, from which it appeared he was reading, by the light that flamed from his forehead. The leaves of the book were all gilt, and as he held it spread open upon his palm, he kept them in their place with his right hand, just as students are accustomed to do, who read as they perambulate their chambers. All his motions were lofty and graceful-somewhat more rapid than those of a full-sized man, but very elegant and dignified. Presently, without lifting his eyes from his book, he began to read again: "The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, to heaven; And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation, and a name. Then closing the book, he continued to pace up and down as before, meditating apparently on the eloquence of the Duke's language, and the wonderful art with which his heroic character is developed. HIGGINS was familiar, as I think most of my readers must be, with the beautiful play, and often reflected on it, in his philosophy, as an example of the necessity in works of extreme fancifulness, of relieving the beautiful and quaint, by the grotesque and absurd. But the reality of what he saw and heard was so palpable, that he was now in the greatest perplexity what to think. He felt awake; he remembered where he was, and why he came there. But then her was an actual sprite before his very what was most singular, re 4 Shakspeare! He had never heard that the fairies had editions of the great poet suited to their eyes, though that they should admire him, particularly his Midsummer Night's Dream, seemed not unlikely. He resolved to interrupt the little gentleman's meditations, and if possible to make his acquaintance. Accordingly he raised himself on his elbow and hemmed softly, till the elfin philosopher paused and looked towards him, evidently with much surprise, on discovering the nature of the noise, and seeing that his private walk had been overlooked by the eye of a dull son of clay. He drew himself up with great dignity, however, and little as he was, there was so much authority in his frown, that HIGGINS almost sank beneath it. He endeavored to be respectful, however, and bending low his head addressed him as follows: "I pray your highness be not displeased with a rude mortal for an intrusion upon your presence, which was wholly accidental, but which, if you pardon him, he will not regret; and if he may presume to hope that it may confer upon him the honor of your acquaintance, he will consider it an occurrence no less fortunate than it is uncommon." I suppose Higgins thought it necessary to be particularly polite on this occasion. for it is not probable he ever spoke in so courtly a style before in his life. The little student smiled at this address, and held out his hand. "Timothy Higgins," said he, "I am very glad to see you. I knew you would be somewhere in the neighborhood this evening, but was not aware you were quite se near." "Indeed," said Timothy, astonished te find himself known; "may I inquire with whom I have the pleasure of speaking" "I am Prince HовOK," replied the littl gentleman, "Lord of Weehawken; and my father is Hum, King of Snake Hill, whe marches seven hundred and fifty bill of mosquitoes across the Bergen meadows "A powerful monarch," said Higgins "I have often encountered his troops But how was your Highness aware of my coming hither to-night?" Oh," said the Prince, "a party of gentle my household visited the city as see the Viennese children. Ee turning, it began to rain, and they were forced to take shelter at the Café, where they were obliged to remain all night, and consequently during to-day; for I suppose a person of your reading need not be informed that it is unpleasant for those of our condition to travel in the sunshine. There they amused themselves, in the shade, with interrupting your reading; and it was they who on reporting themselves at the palace about dusk, informed me that you had entered our dominions. As for your name, know that I am connected on the mother's side with the Connecticut fairies, who have a remarkable faculty of guessing. Not only your name but your hopes and purposes are familiar to me." "What, the story!" exclaimed Timothy. "Of course," answered Prince Hobok. "Perhaps your Highness can give me some assistance in that business, some hint how to begin. I perceive your Lordship s a student." "No one," said Hobok, with true royal >rofundity, "can write another's story for im. To be the author of another's work nvolves a contradiction. I can only advise ou to proceed in your labor with resoluion and discretion. You have been thus ar favored beyond the lot of ordinary men; robably you will continue to be as you go n. I see good in you." "Your Highness is complimentary," said ur friend. "I am not always so," replied Hobok, ith a frown that made Timothy ashamed his insincere remark; "but," he added, niling, “ you are a good fellow, Higgins, ou study your Shakspeare; that's a good gn." Higgins was about to inquire how they t up an edition of Shakspeare in fairynd, but the miniature Prince waved him be silent, and added, "I must now, wever, counsel you to take leave. he owls are out, and some of my unly subjects may pinch you with cramps you lie here on the damp sward. Hie me, therefore, and set to work at the "By-the-bye, Higgins, have you any tobacco about you Higgins, who is a great smoker, replied after an examination, that he had a cigar. "Well, cut it in two," said his Highness, "and give me half." Higgins did so, and it was curious to see the dainty little goblin staggering away through the leaves and grass with the half cigar under his arm-as much as he could well carry. He The next evening found Mr. Higgins in his chamber, seated at his table, with a new pen in his hand, and a thick pile of long slips of yellowish paper, which, for cheapness and agreeableness to the eye, is much in use among “ gentlemen connected with the press," before him. was determined to begin his story. But, as it not unfrequently happens with persons of a sanguine temperament, what had appeared quite feasible when contemplated. in the gross, and at a distance, seemed to grow more and more difficult as it drew near, and showed itself in detail. He would write, but what to write he had not been able to discover. He was mentally very much in the condition of King Lear, when he finds both his daughters ungrateful: “ I will do such thingsWhat they are yet, I know not; but they shall be The terrors of the earth." Had he been a practised writer of stories, he would not have experienced any inconvenience from this not knowing what he desired to write, for he would have reflected that it is not possible to foresee that which has yet to be produced. He would have wound himself up, set his pen to paper, and scratched away. There is a delightful music in the motion of the quill; it lulls the fancy like Dr. -'s preaching; so that when one is fairly under weigh, he may be sometimes so lost in his labor that he shall think of nothing at all, and become a pure Chirographer-or what is perhaps meant by the phrase "Inspired Penman." Indeed, I am not sure that it is not the best way never to think at the outset, of what we design to accomplish, but to set vigorously about it, and leave the rest to circumstances. Here, for example, I know I am writing extremely well, but I must beg the reader to believe that I was not aware what I should say at the beginning; and if he can foretell what I shall say next, he is the greater prophet of us twain. After the first sentence, the thing with me goes of itself. of So it would with Higgins, I presume, had he purposed to indite a letter from Paris for a two-penny newspaper; but to write a story-one which should appear in a popular magazine, and interest thousands young ladies in the inland villages, and, above all, bring to him a more "adequate remuneration" than he had been in the habit of receiving-this was an undertaking of a different sort. If he succeeded, the future path of his life, though it might not be very thickly strewn with roses, would at least be less thorny. Six reviews per diem of the same dramatic performance, which Higgins, amongst his other labors, had once contributed to the daily press, during a whole theatrical season, is as briery a passage as one would desire to go through in this working-day world. Blame him not therefore, ye venerable members of the literary profession, if on these great occasions, when he sought so daringly to avoid the curse of labor, and enable himself to walk easily through the vale of years, he felt some natural misgivings, knowing so well how much depended on the result! Up to the very moment of taking his pen, he had not been able to decide out of a hundred plots and sceneries that presented themselves to his fancy, which he should choose. But the hour was come when he must write, if he wrote at all, and he had nothing left but to remember the fairy prince's encouraging words, and dash boldly into the dark river of his imagination, relying upon his fancy to keep him from sinking. So dipping his pen in his inkstand, which he is careful, from habit, to place at a particular angle he fastened his eyes on the opposite wall of his chamber, and with such a face as brave captains wear when they lead forlorn hopes to the charge, he struck his hand like a strong ploughshare into the new soil of the yellow po re out in furrowed lines T. HIGGINS, ESQUIRE'S, FIRST STORY. THE storm-fiend was abroad in the air, the wind loudly howled, and the rain swept in gusts through the pitchy night, when a solitary traveller's horse's hoofs clattered along the lonely road that leads from Jericho to Palmyra. (Here Higgins found it necessary to attend for a moment to his nose. He proceeded :)-Had it been light at the time, it might have been seen that the traveller was a ruddy complerioned, well-built youth of some twenty-five years or thereabouts, and that he was protected from the inclemency of the weather, by only a thin suit of clothes, of the description usually worn during the summer months, by persons in easy circumstances, resident in that part of the country. By the spurring motion of his heels, i would have appeared that he was anxios to get on rapidly; as indeed might hav, been manifest, even in the darkness, from [ the noise of his animal's hoofs had there be any individual within hearing distanc But, as has been already remarked, the road was a particularly lonely one, and such a night as the present, our trave was, in all human probability, the person making use of it for a space of sere ral miles in each direction. He had apparently every motive f haste; for though soaked through a through by the rain, and therefore unm ful of the storm, the night was wear and it appeared desirable to gain some freshment for himself and his beast, at de earliest convenient opportunity. Loud moaned and crashed the fr trees as he thundered along beneath the writhing limbs! Wild swept the bat gusts, as bending low his forehead he fa their fury on the plain beyond! Three miles past the plain, found the door of a substantial mansion, whose cheerful windows the brilliant of candles threw their beams like " deeds in a naughty world," (as Porti serves in the Merchant of Venice,) ar the troubled atmosphere. He secured steed beneath a capacious adjoining sh and approaching the venerable door, m ped loudly with his riding stick. A mestic appeared, who ushered him int hall, whence, after divesting himself of hat, and making a few ineffectual effor shake the water from his clothing, he ushered himself into the parlor, where an old gentleman and lady were sitting with two lovely damsels, apparently their daughters. He was hospitably received, and the party soon fell into conversation, for it being summer, and our traveller a vigorous young man, he did not experience any serious inconvenience from the extreme moisture of his garments. Leaving him to dry, and the party to converse, as among country people of respectable condition, familiar acquaintances are accustomed to do under similar circumstances, the reader's attention is requested to a brief account of them individually, and an explanation of the relations which they sustain towards each other. The present tense is here used as having reerence to a period some two years prior o the date of this writing. Colonel Buckwheat, the old gentleman foresaid, is one of the most distinguished ndividuals of the country in which he reides; he has, during a period of more than wenty years, filled many political and pubc stations, and has enjoyed in an eminent egree the respect and confidence of his ellow-citizens in that section of the State. le has been several times a member of he General Assembly, and though he has ken no prominent part in the debates of at honorable body, yet he has always erformed his duty to the entire satisfacon of his constituency, by invariably votg in accordance with the views of the rty to which he owed his election. The country around, at the time when : emigrated thither from the eastward, as little better than a wilderness; it is w for the most part under cultivation, d lands formerly worth little or nothing mmand from sixty to seventy dollars per re: so that the surviving settlers, who ginally made large investments, are now nost universally men of considerable alth. The region is finely adapted for eat-growing, and the Colonel's estate, ng particularly well located, is considd one of the most valuable, both for its ent and its productiveness. In addia to this, he has by economy and good nagement in the employment of the plus capital, which has from time to e accumulated from his agricultural ducts, amassed what in the country is esteemed an independent fortune; in short, he is looked upon as altogether one of the most fore-handed men in those parts. In person, the Colonel is about the middle height, square built, and active for one of his years, and with a countenance betokening health and good spirits. In fact, he says he never knew an ill day in his life, until the rheumatism touched him a few years ago. His hair is somewhat grizzled, and there are a few wrinkles around the corners of his eyes, but in his walk and manners he still shows all the briskness and vigor of the prime of life. His wife is, in appearance, several years his junior; and though time, who may be justly styled the defacer of beauty, has touched her cheeks with some Smack of age, she still retains enough to render credible the Colonel's habitual asseveration in moments of jocularity, that previous to their union, she was esteemed one of the best-looking young women in Barkshire. She is reckoned an excellent housewife, and bears the reputation of having discharged all the domestic duties of life in a most exemplary manner. In her own social circle she has had but a limited experience of physical suffering, her children, the two daughters before-mentioned, and a son who was absent from home on the evening when our story commences, having been of a remarkably healthy constitution; but she is nevertheless an admirable nurse, and all who have shared the hospitality of her roof, as well as the connections and acquaintances of the family, would gladly testify to her ability and willingness to minister to the comforts of others in cases of sickness, and to the salutary effects of her attention and the remedies which she, in common with other ladies who have sustained the maternal relation, is in the habit of proposing-particularly for the relief of the youthful portion of the community. She is not a person of extensive literary acquirements, and her range of conversation excludes topics of a theological character, yet she has been through life a constant attendant upon the ordinances of the Baptist Church, and at one period was accustomed to bear a conspicuous part in the performance of the psalmody. The minister and his wife are well pleased to partake occasionally of the family repasts, and are always received with that cheerful attention which relieves them from the too | having now been disposed of, there remains easily besetting temptation of affecting extreme sanctimoniousness. The children therefore, as they have grown up, have not been accustomed to look upon the family clergyman as the realization of human perfection, and hence they are not blinded by the inky cloak of clerical manners, to a perception of what is faulty in character or erroneous in opinion. In short, Colonel Buckwheat's household, owing to the natural good sense of himself and the partner of his bosom, and their prime regard for whatever contributes to the promotion of animal comfort, is one of the pleasantest and best governed on this side of the Rocky Mountains, and has long been the theme of general admiration among the good people of his immediate vicinity. to be noticed only the individual who was present on the occasion as a visiter, and who, it may reasonably be presumed, would not have ventured forth on so extremely inclement an evening except under the pressure of business of the most important and urgent character. This individual, whose personal appearance has already been made the subject of a passing remark, was Henry, or, as he was more frequently termed by his familiar associates and cotemporaries, (of whom the number was considerable,) Harry Bacon. Harry's father, old Mr. Bacon, the proprietor of a large flouring establishment in an adjacent village, was an early friend of Colonel Buckwheat's, and, in consequence, a more than usual intimacy had always subsisted between their two families. This intimacy, on the part of two of the members of these families, Miss Catherine, and Mr. Harry had gradually, in accordance with the wishes of their respective parents, ripened into those sentiments which require for their full and perfect enjoyment the exist ence of the matrimonial relations betwee the parties entertaining them. That rel tion had not been entered into at the pe The distinctive characteristics of the two young ladies, Catherine and Julia, now for the first time introduced to the reader by their christian names, are, it is feared, beyond the power of language adequately to describe. As is usually the case, in families thus constituted, the eldest, Miss Catherine, is the most quiet in her manners, and the most yielding to external influences; she is tall, blue-eyed, and fair-riod of the opening of the story, otherwis haired, like her mother; and in right of her seniority, assumes a slight quantum of gravity and dignity of deportment in the presence of her younger sister. She appears to feel that the cares of the family rest in some degree upon her well-turned shoulders, and manifests at times an anxiety respecting the state of her brother's linen, no less gratifying to him than becoming to herself. Miss Julia exhibits externally a larger admixture of gaiety and animation; she is married since the date of the evening above described, but at that time she was just at the period of life, seventeen, when the animal spirits are most exuberant; and to such an extent did they carry her that the presence of the senior members of the family, and of her father even, was not always sufficient to repress her disposition to merriment. However, as it is not her personally that the story most nearly concerns, it is deemed unnecessary to go further into detail respecting her at present. Four of the grouped in who were left it would have been necessary to speak return, after this explanation, w |