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THE BALLAD OF THE KING'S ORCHARD.

(From THEODORE DE BANVILLE.*)

Here, where wakens the flowering year,
The forest bears on its boughs a score
Of dead folk hanged by the neck; and sheer
Gold of the dawn on them doth pour.
Strangest fruits ever forest bore
Under the oak-boughs hang in a string,
Fruits unheard of by Turk or Moor:
It is the orchard of Louis the King.

All the poor devils shrivelling here,
Thinking thoughts silent for evermore,
Dance in a hurly-burly drear,

With hearts whose panting is hardly o'er:
The sun-heat burns and scorches them sore:
Wondering heavens, see how they swing.

In the dawn-glow growing behind and before!
It is the orchard of Louis the King.

Hanged poor folk, in the devil's ear,

They call for more gallows-fruit and more-
Call and call, whilst the sky grows clear

And the dews float up from the forest floor,
Through the air that glitters like Heaven's door:
Round their heads flapping and fluttering,
Chatter and peck at them birds galore:
It is the orchard of Louis the King.

ENVOI.

Prince, I know of a wood where store
Of hanged poor folk to the branches cling,
Buried in leaves that the breeze sighs o'er:
It is the orchard of Louis the King.

JOHN PAYNE.

*This ballad (together with its companion "The Ballad of the Common Folk ") was, at the express request of M. de Banville, translated in 1871 for M. Aublet's English adaptation of "Gringoire," which it was then in contemplation to produce at a London theatre.

CONTEMPORARY PORTRAITS.

NEW SERIES.-No. 20.

JUSTIN MCCARTHY, M.P.

MR. MCCARTHY, whose name is a familiar and favourite one to many of the large class of novel readers, has lately entered upon a new phase of his career. His deep and earnest interest in politics makes his entrance into the House of Commons something of an event to his admirers and friends, though the suddenness of his call was probably as much a surprise to himself as to anyone.

Justin McCarthy was a noticeable boy, being extremely clever and precocious. He was the son of a citizen of Cork, in which city he was born in November, 1830. He early distinguished himself in certain literary societies of Cork; and the first practical step in his career was that of becoming a reporter on the Cork Examiner. How many eminent men have in the same way entered the field of literature! The Cork Examiner was then under the editorship of John Francis Maguire, between whom and Mr. McCarthy there sprang up a great friendship. Mr. McCarthy continued his work as reporter upon this newspaper as long as he remained in Cork, and attempted little else during that time, with the exception of some fugitive pieces, which were considered remarkable for a boy of his age. From Cork he went to Liverpool, still working as a newspaper reporter; and there he met Miss Charlotte Allman, who, in spite of very scant worldly means and the consequent disapproval of her friends, married him after a short engagement. This lady has had the somewhat unusual experience of being the witness of her husband's career from its commencement, and his companion through all his most vivid experiences. Two children. were born while the young couple still lived in Liverpool. When their daughter, the second child of their marriage, was about three months old, they came to London. At this time Mr. McCarthy had produced a few good magazine articles, some of which have been collected in "Con Amore." The first article in that volume, on Voltaire, was written at this period, and appeared in the Westminster Review. It was much admired by Mr. John Stuart Mill, which was no small en

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couragement to the young author. Mr. McCarthy was now Parliamentary reporter for the Morning Star, of which now defunct newspaper he afterwards became the Foreign Editor. Mr. Lucas, John Bright's brother-in-law, was then editor, and when he died Mr. McCarthy was asked to take the editorship. "Paul Massie" and "The Waterdale Neighbours," Mr. McCarthy's two first novels, were produced during this time of newspaper work in London. "My Enemy's Daughter" was appearing in Belgravia, and simultaneously in America, when Mr. McCarthy went over to the States to commence his extensive wanderings there in 1868. This travelling throughout the States was principally undertaken by Mr. McCarthy for the purpose of studying American politics; and when in America he took an appointment on the Independent, with the feeling that this would bring him into intimate connection with the political life of the country. Although a classical student, and a great lover of literature, and especially of German literature, yet Mr. McCarthy had always a decided leaning towards political life. In America he carried on his study of politics and his active literary work side by side, writing stories and articles for the Galaxy and other American magazines; but he never settled down there, preferring to move about as much as possible, in order to see all that could be Everywhere his wife and children accompanied him, and there are many romantic episodes for them to look back upon. They went over to San Francisco, when the rails of the Pacific Railroad were only just laid, in one of the first trains, when there was a spice of danger about the journey. The Indians used to come down and gather about the train to look at the new travellers, and all along the line the soldiery had their camp fires, adding to the picturesqueness of the scene. Before travelling over the plains, they stopped at Omaha, and from there went on to Salt Lake City, where Mr. and Mrs. McCarthy made the acquaintance of Brigham Young and his large family. In an article in the Galaxy, Mr. McCarthy gave his account of Salt Lake City and its strange inhabitants. From thence he went on to San Francisco, and that never-to-be-forgotten moment came, in the journey over the wild prairies, when the conductor appeared and said, "We have passed the last farmhouse." The little band of travellers were then alone in the great plains, but for the soldiers who were camped here and there to guard the lines. Everything was so new, so deliciously fresh, that it gave another life to the travellers from the old country. On across the plains they went, and just dipped their feet in the Pacific, seeing and loving everything upon its shore, and then returned back by the way they came, having accomplished their purpose of looking at San Francisco, and being among the first travellers upon the new line. They spent the winter in New York, and went back to London the following summer.

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