A ROMANCE IN THE LIBRARY.

IT was one of those dull days of dull Cambridge, when all the life of the sober old city seemed to have departed with the students, when the grass in the College Yard was knee-high, when there was absolutely nothing to do and nobody to do it, that I took refuge in the Library. Even here, in this sanctuary of learning and of wit, there was an oppressive feeling of loneliness. It seemed like a sacrilege to disturb the deep silence by pushing open the creaking doors. The books stared me out of countenance, and the busts glared at me as at an intruder. I sat down with a grim determination to be amused; but after an hour's hard work, I concluded that the dulness of the classic city had communicated itself to every volume in the library, and with a sigh prepared to leave the building. A scraping on the stone steps, a flutter of dresses, and a party of three ladies entered. One was bewitchingly pretty, petite, fascinating, - Cambridge was no longer dull. She seemed to come in among the musty old volumes like a breeze laden with sweet-scented hay. The ladies who accompanied her, - well, perhaps the less said, the better; suffice it to say they were not very fair, nor very fat, but very forty. The taller one carried an umbrella that might have belonged to Sairey Gamp.

Not stopping to look around, and, more wonderful still, not pausing to read the Notes and Queries, the three ladies sailed up to the young lady at the desk. The umbrella opened fire as follows:-

"Why did n't they tell us in town that the College was shut up? Why didn't they tell us the students were all gone?"

The desk was not able even to conjecture the motives that could have influenced the people in town to repress such valuable information.

"Are the students all gone?"

The desk thought the majority of them had left.

I coughed, and exhibited my profile, - my profile is much better than my full face. The umbrella did n't seem to notice me; but with a wave of the hand around on the card catalogue, and on the shelves of books, she inquired, -

"Is this the Chapel or the College?"

The desk repressed a smile, and explained that they were just then standing in the Library.

"Well, where is the College?"

"All these buildings are the College."

"Yes, but where is the College?"

"Oh, all these - "

"Yes, yes, but where is the College?"

The desk took a good start, and before the umbrella could again interrupt, said, -

"No particular building represents the College. All these buildings are the College."

The umbrella said, "Humph! mighty queer!" and stared defiantly at the desk.

The breeze laden with sweet-scented hay then timidly asked if they would be allowed to walk around the College Yard, and seemed delighted to learn that such a liberty would most assuredly be allowed them. An idea crossed my mind; would they not need a guide? Doubtless! I would offer my services. I wished that I was better posted in the history of the College; but I could easily fill up the gaps by a little invention besides, the breeze laden with sweet-scented hay would teach me eloquence. I drew nearer to the party.

The umbrella just then broke out with a new attack on the people in town, and ended with an inquiry as to the possibility of getting into any of the buildings. The desk informed them that they could walk around the Library, and might possibly be able to get into Memorial Hall.

"Which is Memorial Hall?" asked the umbrella.

The desk took the party to the north window, and pointed a pencil in the direction of the Hall. I was about to step up and offer my services to show them the stately edifice, when the breeze laden with sweet-scented hay softly said, -

"O, yes; do you mean that house over there with a tower on it?"

I said, "Guide be blowed!" clapped my hat on my head, and fled.

F. H. W.