* * * * * In conclusion, the events I have here faithfully related, involve a virtue which every one ought to endeavour to practise--the virtue of Presence of Mind. In cases of sudden peril, a moment or two of calm thought on the part of _one_ person, has frequently been the means of saving not only his own but the lives of his fellow-creatures. In the case of a theatre on fire, or in a runaway carriage, he (or she) who has the presence of mind to sit still, has the best chance of saving his (or her) life. In my case, feigning sleep probably saved mine. TOY-LAND. In a romantic and beautiful district of the Southern Tyrol, at no great distance from the town of Botzen, stands the flourishing village of St Ulrich. It is indeed more a small town than a village, and extends itself widely along the right bank of one of those rushing streams that dash through nearly every valley, and are fed by the melting of the snow on the lofty mountain-ranges of the neighbourhood. It contains several good and comfortable inns; and boasts of two churches, one of which is old and small; the other new and large, and handsomely carved and decorated outside, while in the interior, besides some richly painted windows and a good altar-piece, there is a great variety of statues and small figures, all of wood, most of them very delicately carved, and many of them, as well as much of the internal ornamentation of the church, tastefully gilt and coloured. This wood-carving is indeed the staple manufacture of the place, and has raised it to its present condition of evident prosperity. There are no signs of poverty anywhere visible; the people look healthy, happy, well fed and well clad, and their houses roomy and clean. Let us see how this pleasant state of matters has been brought about.