the fountain, and noticed the tall roofs and handsome fronts of the houses opposite, and the crowd of pigeons—scores and scores of pigeons—assembled just opposite the fountain on the edge of the steep roof which rose like a red hill-side behind them. They seemed solemnly met to witness the great festivities about to be celebrated, and sat in silent expectation brooding in the sunshine. Then, I wondered what attraction the icy water could have for the children who leaned over the fountain's side—dabbling in the water as though it had been midsummer. The crowd increased and increased; and seven new white buckets were brought and placed on a broad plank which extended across one side of the fountain basin.

"A shout from the crowd announced the arrival of the Butchers. First of all came the tender Butcher-infants, in scarlet coats, top-boots, and green velvet hats, borne in the arms of their fathers through the crowd in order that they might witness the fun. Then followed the scarlet officials:—and then came seven of the queerest beasts man ever set eyes on. What were they, if human? Were they seven Esquimaux chiefs, or seven African mumbo-jumbos? They were the heroes of the day—the seven Butcher-apprentices, clothed in fur caps and garments—covered from shoulder to heel with hundreds of dangling calves' tails—red, white, black, dun!

"You may imagine the shouts that greeted them,—the peels of laughter. Up they sprang on the broad plank,—leaping, dancing, making their tails fly round like trundled mops. The crowd roared with laughter. A stately scarlet official—a butcher (Altgesell)—stands beside them on the plank. Ten times they drink the health of the royal family and prosperity to the butchers' craft. The Altgesell then striking many blows on the shoulder of the nearest apprentice, frees him and all the remaining six from their indentures. They are henceforth full-grown butchers. Then, they plunge into the very centre of the fountain with a tremendous splash. The crowd shout,—the startled pigeons wheel in wild alarm above the heads and laughter of the crowd. The seven Tritons dash torrents of water on the multitude,—who fly shrieking and laughing before the deluge. The seven buckets are plied with untiring arms;—lads are enticed within aim by showers of nuts flung by the 'Leapers,' and then are drenched to the skin. It is a bewilderment of water, flying calves' tails, pelting nuts, and shrieking urchins.

"The 'Leapers' then ascend out of their bath,—shake themselves like shaggy dogs,—have white cloths pinned round their necks as though they were going to be shaved,—and have very grand medals hung round their necks suspended by gaudy ribbons.

"The procession retires across the market-place to its 'Herberge,' and the crowd disperses,—but disperses only to re-assemble in various public-houses for the merriment of the afternoon and night. That night and the next day are 'the maddest, merriest of all the year.' Music is every where—dancing every where. It is the end of the Carnival. Ash Wednesday comes,—and then, all is gloom."

NEGLECT OF THE PRESERVATION OF EGYPTIAN ANTIQUITIES.

A writer in the London Athenæum, writing from Alexandria, endeavors to convince those who profess an interest in Egyptian antiquities, that if their present neglect continues, nothing will remain of the stupendous relics now lying over the land, but a quantity of pulverized fragments. The colossal statue at Memphis, said to belong to the British Museum, for years depended on the precarious protection of an old Arab woman, who was continually expecting and claiming a small salary of five or six pounds per annum as guardian. She received about so much from a variety of consuls, for a time, but the payment was at last discontinued, and, from what was told her, she based her hopes on the learned or the powerful in England. "But the learned and the powerful never, I suppose," says the writer, "heard of her, and she died, leaving the statue in charge of her son, who, in his turn, seems to live in hope. There is little prospect of his getting any thing, however; and very probably, in spite of his unrewarded zeal, the magnificent statue—by far the finest in Egypt—will ere long be burnt for lime. The neighboring pyramid of Dashour is being, as I have already said, worked as a quarry, and I shall be very much surprised if this handy block of stone escape notice." He suggests the formation of a committee, consisting of the principal consuls and residents in Egypt, to watch over the preservation of the monuments of the country, and to be supplied, by governments or by the voluntary contributions of the learned, with the funds necessary to pay guardians and inspectors.

A very valuable museum of Egyptian antiquities we believe is now on the way to the United States; but it embraces no such great works as have been transported to Rome and Paris. Is it not worth while for the New-York merchants to set up in Union or Washington Square, the great statue of Memphis?

Or it would not be altogether inappropriate for the Smithsonian Institution to have it imported into Washington. How much the diffusion of "knowledge" would be promoted by such a movement it is not easy to say: but a figure of this kind on Capitol Hill would have such an effect on our eloquence! and our juvenile poets could go there and in its shade invoke the presence of twenty centuries.

HENRY ROWE SCHOOLCRAFT.