At Three P.M. They Sallied Forth, And Were Presently Saluted By Hootings, Groanings, And Hallooings From A Multitude Of People Of All Ages, From A Child To Its Grandmother, And They Followed Closely At Their Heels, As They Went Along, Filling The Air With Their Laughter And Raillery.

A merry-andrew at a country town in England, during the Whitsuntide holidays, never excited so great a stir as did the departure of the travellers from the town of Wow.

But it is "a fool's day," and, no doubt, some allowance ought to be made for that. They had not proceeded more than a dozen paces from the outskirts of the town, when they were visited by a pelting shower, which wetted them to the skin in a moment. A gutter or hollow, misnamed a pathway, was soon overflowed, and they had to wade in it up to their knees in water, and through a most melancholy-looking forest, before they entered a village. It was called Sagba, and was about eight miles from Wow. They were dripping wet on their arrival, and the weather still continuing unpleasant, it was some time before any one made his appearance to invite them into a hut. At length the chief came out to welcome them to his village, and immediately introduced them into a long, narrow apartment, wherein they were to take up their quarters for the night. It was built of clay, and furnished with two apertures, to admit light and air into the room.

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