few minutes when, from the outrages committed on it, the body fell. They then dragged it to the Hof, and suspended it to one of the bronze candelabras that adorn that extensive, and much frequented square, and there treated it with every indignity; it remained for fourteen hours exposed to the gaze of a mocking populace. FOOTNOTES: [2] A chapter from Mr. Stiles's forthcoming work on Austria, which we have mentioned elsewhere in this number of the International. [3] The last order issued by the unfortunate Latour was instructed to Colonel Gustave Schindler, of the imperial engineers, an efficient officer, as well as a most amiable and accomplished gentleman, and one well and favourably known in the United States, from his kind attention to Americans who have visited the Austrian capital. The colonel was in the act of passing out of the great door of the war office, which opens on the Hof, when the mob reached that spot. Recognized by his imperial uniform, he was instantly surrounded and attacked. He received many blows on the head, inflicted by the crowd with clubs and iron bars; was most severely wounded, and would probably have been killed but for the timely interference of one of the rabble, who, riding up on horseback between the colonel and the mob, shielded him from further blow, and finally effected his escape. [4] A student of the Polytechnic school, for brevity, usually called Tecnickers. SOME SMALL POEMS. WRITTEN FOR THE INTERNATIONAL MONTHLY MAGAZINE, BY R. H. STODDARD. SONG. I hung upon your breast in pain, And poured my kisses there like rain; A flood of tears, a cloud of fire, That fed and stifled wild desire, And lay like death upon my heart, To think that we must learn to path; For we must part, and live apart! Had I, that hour of dark unrest, But plunged a dagger in your breast And in mine own, it had been well; For now I had been spared the hell That racks my lone and loving heart, To think that we must learn to part;-- For we must part, and die apart! LU LU. The shining cloud that broods above the hill, Casts down its shadows over all the lawns, The snowy swan is sailing out to sea, Leaving behind a ruffled surge of light! Lu Lu is like a cloud in memory, And shades the ancient brightness of my mind: A swan upon the ocean of my heart, Floating along a path of golden thought! The light of evening slants adown the sky, Poured from the inner folds of western cloud; But in the cast there is a spot of blue, And in that heavenly spot the evening star! The tresses of Lu Lu are like the light, Gushing from out her turban down her neck; And like that Eye of heaven, her mild blue eye, And in its deeps there hangs a starry tear! THOSE WHO LOVE LIKE ME.