the project of constructing this figure, which had cost him many years of study and labour before he could bring it to completion. He then showed to the company the interior of the figure, which was completely filled with _small cranks_, by which the motions are given to the several parts of the automaton, at the will of the conductor, who has the whole machine so perfectly under control, that Monsieur Marreppe proposes that the automaton shall perform any piece of music which may be laid before him, within a fortnight. He also showed that to a certain extent the figure was self-acting, as, on winding up a string, several of the most beautiful airs were played, among which were “Nel cor più,” “Partant pour la Syrie,” “Weber’s last Waltz,” and “La ci darem la mano,” all with brilliant embellishments. But the _chef-d’œuvre_ is the manner in which the figure is made to obey the direction of the conductor, whereby it is endowed with a sort of semi-reason.”—_Galignani’s Messenger._ * * * * * _The Street Fiddler._—Behold the poor fellow, as he stands there in the sun, against that dead wall, with a face that betrays many a foregone year of patient endurance, and a figure that is the very index to “narrow circumstances.” His old brown great coat, loose and hard-worn—his battered hat—his shoes unconscious of blacking—are the vouchers of his low estate. He wears “the hapless vesture of humility.” He is half-blind, and will be _wholly_ so before long, for blindness is the badge of his sad tribe;—but _then_—he will have a _companion_, in the _dog_ that will lead him about!