THE SURPRISING, UNHEARD-OF, AND NEVER-TO-BE-SURPASSED

L

STORY THE SEVENTH-OF LOVE.

OVE! Of course Munchausen has felt the ardent passion.

Not only has he himself loved all sorts of ladies, but, moreover, in consequence of his great deeds, no end of ladies have formed attachments, often, alas! unrequited, for him.

MY STOUT LOVE.

My first was stout-so stout, indeed-not to say fat-that, whenever she got up unattended, over she tumbled, like an unwound hummingtop, rolling instead of walking. Usually she was carried by seventeen attendants, but being a duchess in her own right, she could well afford such an expensive sort of help. She caught sight of me on my return from India, after the quelling of the rebellion. Was full of admiration at my prowess. "Accept my hand and fortune!" she exclaimed. "Not for Munchausen is the calm of retirement. Duty calls!" cried bitterly as I thus revealed to her her sad fate.

Did I? No!

She

"I cannot stop!" I said, calmly, and retired from her presence; shethat I should have to relate it-she rose from her seat without taking the precaution of calling her seventeen servants-down she fell-and rolled after me.

When last heard of she was rolling still.

My lean love was a marchioness.

Beautiful as the day-thin as a paper-knife-when she walked, the wind caught her and blew her about like an autumn leaf. Being wealthy, she employed twenty-seven servants to keep MY LEAN LOVE. the wind from her, else she had been blown away. At the close of the Crimean War, returning loaded with honours, I was introduced to her.

"I will give you wealth!" she cried.

"Even promise you a title, so much do I love you." But I only shook my head.

"Do you care for me?" she exclaimed.

"I do!" was my whispered answer, "but what is affection by the side of duty? Good bye!" I went.

"Life is a burden without Munchy to share it!" she shrieked, and so crying threw herself out of the sixth story back-attic side window.

Not so easily was she fated to destroy herself; the east wind caught her as she fell, and after blowing her about a little, landed her safely in the corner with two straws, a few leaves, and a feather.

There her twenty-seven servants found her sobbing bitterly.

She was tired of her life, waited for a calm day, went up the Monument, and threw herself off. (The summit of this dangerous pillar has been since then covered in with a kind of bird-cage.)

GENTLE BREEZE. A gentle breeze from the south coming by, placed her without any hurry in the midst of St. Paul's Churchyard. Madly she rushed into the cathedral, paid three-and-tenpence, passed up through the whispering-gallery into the ball and cross, and seizing her opportunity, threw herself off again. This time there was no wind to carry her, so she fell down in Fleet-street, but so softly, that she only broke the bridge of her nose and sprained her ankle. She was carried home to her sevenand-twenty servants, and I was sent for.

"I dare not see her!" I sobbed, “for I—I love her to distraction.” So instead I sent her a large chain shot, and wrote with it

"Buckingham Palace,
"April 1, 18—.

"Dearest Marchioness,

A TRIBUTE OF AFFEC-
TION.

sport of the winds.

"Chain this round your right leg, in remembrance of Young Munchausen, and no longer be the

"Forget me and forgive,

"Yours,

"M."

I have never heard from her since, but report says that she is thinner

than ever.

It has been muttered that I was once on the point of marrying for money, but this is untrue. Munchausen is never mercenary. The facts are these:-A certain dignitary-my very old friend-wants a million pounds to build churches with-he asked me to help him.

"Make some sacrifice for this good cause," he said.

BLACK AND GOLD.

"I will sacrifice myself!" I replied, and hurried off to Hayti-there lived a negress, so wealthy, that even her footstools were stuffed with English sovereigns, while her ordinary drink was a pound of pearls, dissolved in a quart of white-wine vinegar.

"I come to you," said I, on my knees, and with head averted, "you are ugly I hate the sight of you. See! I am kneeling before you. Give, oh, give me a million pounds, and I will marry you out of hand."

"G'long!" she shrieked, in a thick voice, you no lub me— -here's de money for de bishop all de same. Yah! Y-ah!"

“Generous soul !" I exclaimed; need you wonder that in the excess of my gratitude at her liberality and my escape, I kissed her sooty lips, and made off with the money?

And here, to prevent mistakes, let me warn anyone who would dare to be my rival, that I am not to be trifled with. I have but one way with such miscreants: I shut them

CAGED.

up in an enormous birdcage-on one side I give them water, on the other seed; through the bars they get plenty of fresh air, and that is all.

I first thought of this plan when I was courting a beautiful French woman-she had deceived me. Said I, in my scorn,

"Much as you may have loved me, you have loved yourself more— you have dared to flirt with many others, young and old, when the love of Munchausen should have satisfied

you.

SELF-LOVE.

I will be revenged !"

"How?" she asked.

"I will shut them up," I cried.
"In what?" she inquired.
"In my birdcage!" said I.

"And for me?" sobbed she.

"For you! I tell you, you love yourself-but still Munchausen has loved you; take my estates in Normandy, my hotel in Paris. I shall

A Spaniard once loved me so madly that, rather than let me leave the country without her, she stabbed me in the back, and ran off, leaving the stiletto in the wound. I took it out, sewed up RECEIVED WITH the gash, enclosed the dagger in a neat brown paper parcel, inscribed, "Donna Anna, with Munchausen's thanks," and embarked for Constantinople the next day, where, in the

THANKS.

Sultan's seraglio, I was fated to meet the fair Circassian Zulieka, for whom I would so willingly have sacrificed the world. Oh, how we loved each other, to be sure! But one evening we were walking in the

moonlight, under the shadow of the rose-trees, when suddenly the Sultan himself stood before us.

"Traitress!" he growled.

"Mercy!" shrieked poor Zulieka.

"Tremble!" roared the Sultan to me.

"Munchausen cannot tremble," I replied, and punched him in the right eye; but at that moment came up the royal guards. We were overpowered, seized, sewn in strong sacks in company with some heavy stones, and, as is usual in such cases, thrown headlong SEWN IN A SACK. into the Bosphorus. It mattered little to me-a clasp knife, a strong will, and memories of my dear friend, Monte Christo, I was soon out of my sackcloth. But poor Zulieka had disappeared-I saw her no more.

It was the Emperor Nicholas's great admiration for me that caused him, upon hearing this sad story, to make war upon the Turks.

I told him it was of no avail, for I must, at the call of duty, fight against him.

He invited me to St. Petersburg; but I wrote to him on my

return :

THE FALSE WOROW-
SKY.

"Windsor Castle.

"No, Nicholas !

"Never can I see Russia again.

"The fair Worowsky, member of your Court, once

deceived my too trustful heart—told me an Untruth. Munchausen, who cannot live in the same climate with falsehood, knows Russia no

more.

"Ever yours,

"My dear Nik,

"M."

Yes, it is true the Princess Worowsky had dared to tell me an untruth, when, living at the Russian Court, I had sought her hand.

Later in life I met the sweet-tempered Jenny Jones of Bettys-y-coed, who, disdaining my advice, that the national leek should be abandoned in deference to my wishes, still in secret devoured that truly Welsh but shockingly odorous vegetable.

EATING THE LEEK.

I left her.

I was once courted by a strong-minded woman, Connecticut, Disu. S.; but she, silly woman, tried beating me before we were married.

"Had you kept your hands off me until after our wedding-day, I should have been yours!" said I, glad enough to escape. As glad, indeed, as I was when I got rid of my Dutch Vrow, who so annoyed me by always carrying about a pail, a mop, a scrubbingbrush, and a house-flannel, that I got out of patience

A SCRUBBING LOVE.

at last, and called her "Dutch!"

She, in return, screamed "Dirty!" So we parted.

My Italian beauty, who loved everybody, of course would not do She who loves Munchausen must be true to him, and him alone. Far better my Mexican dame, who loved nobody, alas! not

for me.

even me.

THE MUNCHAUSEN
SONNETS.

I once turned to the writing of poetry, and composed a volume of sonnets, now popularly, but erroneously, attributed to Shakespeare, all in honour of my dear Greek Medora. Some day, when life and adventure has fewer charms, I may be tempted to return to the happy Isles of Greece--some day, and compose a few more verses, who can say I have an idea for a poem-subject, "The Corsair."

But there-let me try and recount a few more love passages.

A LONG LIST.

My gipsy, who was fond of fortune-telling and me, and who happening to predict that I should prove false to her, in despair drowned herself.

My Chinese lady, who loved me dearly, until I objected to rat soup and cold tea, when we parted.

My Polish girl, who, sad to say, was too fond of the Russians.

My Maronite, who ran off with a Druse chief.

My Druse girl, who was secretly attached to a Maronite priest.

My Canadian, who would not leave Canada.

My Japanese, who was so fond of horse-riding, that she broke her pretty neck hunting, the day before we were to have been married. My Tartar, who boxed my ears every morning and pulled my hair every afternoon.

My Sandwich islander, who left me for the king.

My Marquesan lady, who loved the sailor.

THE FAITHFUL
HINDU.

And finally, dearest of all, my darling Hindu, who loved me faithfully, and loves me still, because I am, as you all know me-a gallant soldier!