“Not a word against the opera bouffe!” remarked one of the lady-guests, laughing.  “Did I not see you enjoying yourself immensely at the second representation of La Boulangere a des Ecus?”

Whereupon Rossi assumed an air of conscious guilt most comical to see.

Some one then asked him at what age and in what character he had made his debut.  His reply was:  “I was just fourteen, and I played the soubrette characters in an amateur company—­a line that I could hardly assume with any degree of vraisemblance now.”  And he put his head on one side, thrust his hands into a pair of imaginary apron-pockets and looked around with a pert, chambermaid-like air so absurdly unsuited to his noble features and intellectual brow—­to say nothing of his stalwart physique—­that all present shrieked with laughter.

The evening was now drawing to a close, and the guests began to take their departure.  When Rossi came to say farewell his hostess asked him if he would do her the favor of writing his autograph in her copy of Shakespeare.  He assented at once, and taking up the pen, he wrote in Italian these lines:  “O Master! would that I could comprehend thee even as I love thee!” and then appended his name.

A peculiar brightness and geniality of temperament, a childlike simplicity of manner, united to a keen and cultivated intellect and to a thorough knowledge of social conventionalities,—­such was the impression left by Signor Rossi on the minds of those present.  There was a total absence of conceit or of self-assertion that was very remarkable in a member of his profession, and one, too, of such wide-spread celebrity.  The general verdict of Europe is that he is as great an actor as Salvini, while his repertoire is far more important and varied:  it remains to be seen whether the United States will endorse the verdict of Italy and of Paris.

L.H.H.

“FOUNDER’S DAY” AT RAINE’S HOSPITAL.

MAY DAY in London would not seem at first sight to realize the traditionary associations connected with its name, but in a certain parish of the city a more solid interest attaches to this day, and young girls look forward to the ceremony which marks it with more anxiety than ever did village-lass to her expected royalty of a day.  Twice a year (the Fifth of November being the other occasion) a wedding-portion of one hundred pounds is given by lot to one girl among the many whose antecedents, as prescribed by the founder’s will, entitle them to become candidates.  This endowment is connected with what is known as Raine’s Asylum in the parish of St. George’s-in-the-East, London.  The parish is populous and unfashionable, and proportionately poor and interesting.  Among its members in the last century was Henry Raine, a brewer, who in 1719 founded two schools for the free education of fifty girls and fifty boys, respectively.  In 1736 he founded and endowed a new school, called the Asylum, for teaching, clothing and training forty