nity, faid I, looking quietly in her eyes, that I expected

She was going to fay

fomething civil in return but the lad came into the shop with the gloves A propos, faid I; I want a couple of pair myself.

THE

T

GLOVES.

PARIS.

HE beautiful Griffet rose up when I faid this, and going behind the counter, reached down a parcel and untied it: I advanced to the fide over against her: they were all too large. The beautiful Griffet measured them one by one across my hand-It would not alter the dimenfions-She begged I would try a fingle pair, which seemed to be the least -She held it open-my hand flipped into it at once-It will not do, said I, shaking my head a little - No, said she, doing the fame thing.

THERE

THERE are certain combined looks of simple fubtlety-where whim, and fenfe, and seriousness, and nonsense, are fo blended, that all the language of Babel. fet loofe together could not express them

they are communicated and caught so instantaneously, that you can scarce say which party is the infecter. I leave it to your men of words to swell pages about it it is enough in the present to fay again, the gloves would not do; fo folding our hands within our arms, we both loll'd upon the counter- it was narrow, and there was just room for the parcel to ly between us..

THE beautiful Griffet looked fometimes at the gloves, then fideways to the window, then at the gloves - and then at me. I was not disposed to break filence I followed her example: so I

looked at the gloves, then to the window, then

then at the gloves, and then at her and fo on alternately.

I FOUND I loft confiderably in every attack-she had a quick black eye, and Thot through two such long and filken eye-lashes with fuch penetration, that The looked into my very heart and reins - It may feem strange, but I could actually feel she did

-It is no matter, said I, taking up a couple of the pairs next me, and putting them into my pocket.

I WAS sensible the beautiful Griffet. had not asked above a fingle livre above the price-I wished she had asked a livre more, and was puzzling my brains how to bring the matter about-Do you think, my dear Sir, faid she, mistaking my embarrafsment, that I could ask a fous too much of a stranger - and of a stranger whofe:

whose politeness, more than his want of gloves, has done me the honour to lay himself at my mercy? - M'en croyez capable? Faith! not I, faid I: and if you were, you are welcome-So counting the money into her hand, and with a lower bow than one generally makes to a shopkeeper's wife, I went out, and her lad with his parcel followed me.

THE

THE TRANSLATION.

T

PARIS.

HERE was no body in the box I was let into but a kindly old French officer. I loved the character, not only because I honour the man whose manners are softened by a profession which makes bad men worfe; but that I once knew one-for he is no more--and why should I not rescue one page from violation by writing his name in it, and telling the world it was Captain Tobias Shandy, the dearest of my flock and friends whose philanthropy I never think of at this long distance from his death-but my eyes gush out with tears. For his fake, I have a predilection for the whole corps of veterans; and fo I strode over the two back rows of benches, and placed myfelf befide him.

THE