MR.

SPARKS'S STORY.
"I sat at breakfast one beautiful morning at the Goat Inn at Barmouth, looking out of a window upon the lovely vale of Barmouth, with its tall trees and brown trout-stream struggling through the woods, then turning to take a view of the calm sea, that, speckled over with white-sailed fishing-boats, stretched away in the distance.

The eggs were fresh; the trout newly caught; the cream delicious.

Before me lay the 'Plwdwddlwn Advertiser,' which, among the fashionable arrivals at the seaside, set forth Mr.Sparks, nephew of Sir Toby Sparks, of Manchester,--a paragraph, by the way, I always inserted.

The English are naturally an aristocratic people, and set a due value upon a title." "A very just observation," remarked Power, seriously, while Sparks continued.
"However, as far as any result from the announcement, I might as well have spared myself the trouble, for not a single person called.