Chamberss Edinburgh Journal, No. 427 | Page 5

abashed at the multitude, receives them all with open arms. Indignation is as thirsty as jollity, and to their thirst at least she can administer, if she cannot repair their wrongs. Nogoe has vanished from the locality of the now thriving inn and tavern of his friend Mr Peter Bowley, and in the character of a scapegoat, is gone forth to what point of the compass nobody exactly knows. The last account of him is, that he had gone to the Isle of Man, where he endeavoured to get up a railway on the Exhaustive Principle, but without effect. As for that excellent individual, Bowley, he appears among the diddled and disconsolate Chums in the character of a martyr to their interests. A long arrear of rent is due to him, as well as a lengthy bill for refreshments to the various committees, for which he might, if he chose, attach the properties in his keeping. He scorns such an ungentlemanly act, and freely gives them up; but as nobody knows what to do with them, as, if they were sold, they would not yield a farthing each to the host of members, they remain rolled up in his garret, and are likely to remain till they rot, the sole memorials of a past glory.
The Charitable Chums' Benefit Society has fulfilled its destiny, and answered the end of its creation. It has made the world acquainted with the undeniable merits of 'Mother Bunch,' and encircled that modest matron with a host of bibulous and admiring votaries; it has elevated Bowley from the class of struggling and desponding speculators, to a substantial and influential member of the Licensed Victuallers' Company: it has at once vastly improved the colour of his nose and the aspect of his bank-account; and while he complacently fingers the cash which it has caused to flow in a continual current into his pocket, he looks remarkably well in the character of chief mourner over its untimely fate.

LA ROSIèRE.
About twelve miles from Paris is situated the pretty vernal hamlet of Maisons Lafitte. It hangs around the Chateau Lafitte--a princely residence, formerly the property and dwelling of the well-known banker of that name, but for many years past in other hands. In front of the chateau, a broad avenue of greensward strikes straight away through a thick forest, extending many miles across the country; and parallel with the front of the building is an avenue still broader, but not so long--La Grande Allée--wherein the various _fêtes_ of the hamlet are celebrated, and which, moreover, forms a principal scene in the following narrative.
Before the Revolution of 1793, the name of Gostillon was familiar as a daily proverb to the people of Maisons. There were three or four branches of the family living in the neighbourhood, and well known as industrious and respectable members of the peasant class. When the earthquake comes, however, the cottage is as much imperiled as the palace; so the events which brought Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette to the block, and sent panic into every court in Europe, also broke up and dispersed the humble house of Gostillon. In the awful confusion of the times, some were slain upon barricades; some sent hither and thither with the army, to perish in La Vendée or elsewhere; and some fled to seek safety and peace in foreign lands. Thus it came to pass, that at length there were only three females in Maisons--a widow and her two daughters--bearing the once common name. Mme Veuve Gostillon managed to obtain a living by cultivating a small garden--the flowers and fruit from which she sold in the markets of Paris--and by plying her needle. Her daughters were named Julia and Cecilia, and there was the somewhat remarkable difference of eight years between their ages.
Just as Julia had reached her fourteenth year, and little Cecilia her sixth, a terrible misfortune happened to the industrious widow: a stroke of paralysis deprived her of the use of her limbs, and rendered her unable longer to maintain herself and little family by the labour of her hands. A time of severe distress ensued for this remnant of the once numerous and hearty family of the Gostillons; but it was only for awhile. Julia--shrewd, spirited, and industrious--worked night and day to perform the labour heretofore the portion of her parent, and to liquidate the extraordinary expenses of the poor widow's sad illness, and the derangement consequent thereupon. Steady assiduity seldom fails of success. It was not long before she had the satisfaction of finding matters proceeding in a somewhat straightforward manner--doctor's bills paid; arrears of rent, such as they were, made up; and the little business in flowers, fruit, and needle-work proceeding smoothly and satisfactorily. There is much attractiveness in the virtue and good-behaviour of youth;