The Whirligig Of Time

Toboth the Russian Prince and the Russian Envoy this day is the consummation of a long-deferred triumph. I'wenty-three years ago the Grand Duke Nichoïas, who sits to-day as an honored juest in the capital of his hereditary 'oe, was standing beside his brother Miohael in a hollow of the steep ridge that trends northward from Sebastopol to the Inkerman valley, watching the best soldiers of Eussia reeling back from the charging bayonets of the Sultan's western champions. At the same period a certain Ooi. Ignatieff, of the Büssian army, was being paoked off to Central Asia to match his skUl ngainstthetreacherous eruelty of the " blood-drirjker of Bokhara," little dreaniing that he should one day enter in triumph the very capital where Austrian jealousy and Hungarian revenge were then making the mere name of Bussia a by-word and a