Fifty hands were at once dipped into the snap dragon, and drawn back, carrying streams of the blue and liquid flame. Another plunge! fresh screams, and a river of fire on the table; the dish upset; Harriet’s dress on fire; Donald the gardener’s hair in a blaze. A hearth-rug nearly smothered Harriet, and a bucket of water cooled Donald completely. There was a universal burst of laughter; even Black Kitty, the cook maid, so called, from her jet black hair, was heard to giggle behind the scullery door; and Donald, now recovered from his singeing and ducking, roared himself into convulsions in the back passage. They now all began to count the raisins; whoever had the largest odd number was the lucky one. Merry Jessie was the lucky one. The happy party now retired to the drawing-room, saying, that of all games, snap dragon was the most amusing. Up stairs, they found a blazing fire, and supper laid on the table. In the centre of it stood, most conspicuously, the Hallow-e’en cake, so delicately iced over and ornamented with a wreath and bunch of the last roses. This cake contained a ring, for marriage; a sixpence for wealth; and a thimble, for an old maid. The cake was cut up by Hugh. The youngest of the party took the first piece, and the gentle fairy, Minna Erskine, found the ring. Jessie Graeme darted forward, and seizing a bit of cake, crumbled it to atoms, and found the sixpence. Happy little pair, who, almost screaming with joy, fairly hugged each other with delight. Dear mamma was declared a confirmed old maid by finding the thimble. The laughter of the young ones at this knew no bounds; but they were soon brought to order by Mr. Graeme, reminding them that it was within a quarter of an hour of midnight, and that “good nights” must be exchanged. The young ones quickly though reluctantly took the hint, and after affectionate kissings and greetings, from our papas and mammas, we all marched off, once more to talk of the events of the evening, and to anticipate and prepare for fresh sports and merriment. * * * * * BONAPARTE’S WIT.--Soon after Napoleon had attained the rank of captain, a soldier one day approached him, and showed him his coat which was in rags, at the same time demanding another in a dissatisfied tone. “A new coat?” replied the young officer; “you do not call to mind that your honorable scars would no longer be visible.” This well-timed compliment entirely satisfied the poor soldier. After Napoleon became emperor, during a parade, a young officer stepped out of the ranks, in extreme agitation, to complain that he had been ill-used, slighted, and passed over, and that he had been five years a lieutenant, without being able to obtain promotion. “Calm yourself,” said the emperor; “I was seven years a lieutenant, and yet you see that a man may push himself forward for all that.” Everybody laughed, and the young officer, suddenly cooled by these words, returned to his place.