the East.  Indian armies have encamped beneath its sheltering branches, and Hindoo festivals, to which thousands of votaries repair, are often held under its leafy shadow.  I was told that seven thousand people could find ample shelter under its widespread branches; and we often knew of English gentlemen forming hunting or shooting excursions to the island, and encamping for weeks together beneath this delightful pavilion.  Their only hosts were frolicsome monkeys and whole colonies of doves, peacocks, wood-pigeons and singing birds, that find a permanent abode among the thick foliage, and plentiful sustenance from the small, scarlet-colored figs that hang pendent from every branch.  The banian tree may be regarded as a natural temple in Oriental regions, and the Hindoos especially look upon it with profound veneration.  Tiny, fancifully-adorned temples and pagodas are erected beneath its shadowy boughs, where are pleasant walks and long vistas of umbrageous canopy, effectually shielded from the fierce rays of the tropical sun.  Many Brahmins spend their entire lives within these quiet retreats, and all ranks and classes seek them for rest and recreation.  The banian is styled also “the tree of councils,” from the prevalent custom of assembling legislators, magistrates and savants under its protecting canopy to deliberate on civil affairs; while all around, ensconced in every niche, are the tutelary gods and goddesses that make up the Hindoo mythology.  It is indeed a quaint, weird spot, full of the witchery of romance and legendary lore; and though years have passed since I last sat under the Cubber Burr’s sheltering boughs with a merry party of picnicking maidens, now grown to womanhood, imagination still loves to roam among its shadows, and build fairy castles within the mazy windings of the hoary banian of Nerbudda’s isle.

FANNIE R. FEUDGE.

A LOTOS OF THE NILE.

It was nine o’clock on a night of clear July starlight.  The heat of the day had been intense, and all the guests of The Willows were assembled on the lawn, intent upon the effort of keeping cool, if such a thing were at all possible.  A hopeless effort it seemed, however, for the heavy foliage of the trees hung quite motionless, and the fans which were plied unceasingly made the only possible approach to a breeze.  Everything was so still that the voice of the river was distinctly audible as it fretted and surged along its rocky bed, distant at least a mile.  The scene was full of the dim, mysterious look which makes summer starlight so fascinating.  White dresses, shadowy faces, suggestive outlines of form and head, now and then the glimmer of an ornament:  after one had looked long enough it was even possible to tell who was who, but at first the voices were the only clue to recognition.  Behind the group rose the house, with light streaming from its lace-draped windows, the pictures and globe-like lamps of the deserted drawing-room making a charming effect.