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Publist every Monday marning at nine o‘clock.

 

NEW YORK, SEPTEMBER 30, [876.

 

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NEW STORIES COMING !

BY OLL COOMES AND J05. E. BADGER, JR.

Very strong and characteristic.

Both of these noted romance-writers give
their best work exclusively to the SATURDAY
JOURNAL.

 

 

A SUPERB SOCIETY SERIAL
BY THE

CHARMING GRACE MORTIMER,

will soon make its appearance in our columns.
It is of striking power and deeply marked in-
terest.

 

m“ The serial by Buffalo Bill, commenced
in this number, we received from his hands on
the eve of his departure for the seat of Indian
war in the Sioux country. It is his only “last
story.” Any story announced as such must be
somebody else’s work—not his, for he has not
been heard from for weeks, save by the brief-
est dispatches.

 

Sunshine Papers.
Negative Selﬁshness.

THERE is no end to the evidences of the ex-
istence of positive selﬁshness in the world. Al—
most every member of the great human family
seems to have some lurking element of it in his
cr her nature. The trait reveals itself, vari-
ously, in forms ﬁat invite censure and arouse
disgust, and way! that are hardly discernible
from real merit and praiseworthiness. Just
the same, however, the motives, analyzed,
would prove the existence of positive selﬁsh-
ness as a primary cause for both the censurable
and evidently meritorious acts. It is set down
as an established conclusion, which no person
with an accepted reputation for sanity will
think of disputing, that this trait is most de-
plorable and horrible, a continuously repro-
duced proof of the natural depravity of human
nature gained through the fact that

“ In Adam’s fall,
We sinned all.”

But is there any reason why we should ac-
cept established conclusions merely because
they are such? Are we not entitled to recon-
sider such premises and improve upon them?
And do you not maintain, with me, in the face
of all the old fogies who argue to the contrary,
that there are worse traits of character than

. positive selﬁshness—and that negative selﬁsh-
ness is one of them?

A pleasant day is charming. It becomes a
perceptible force in the feelings of the most
young and old and ill and sorrowful. And a
stormy day is endurable. We accept the situ—
ation, and reconcile ourselves to it, and adapt
personal circumstances and the state of the
weather as best we can. But a gray, neutral
day, which oppresses and disappoints us, yet
which remains a cold, settled, existing disagree-
ableness, concerning which we can ﬁnd no rea—
sons for rebellion even while we grow dull, and
morbid, and sad, under its sunshinelessness, is
unendurable; is worse than deluges of rain and
tempests of wind. If the sun shines we live
happily in its brightness. If it- storms we put
away our Sunday garments that may be spoil-
ed, and, prepared for storm, brave it. But
when there is no brightness and no storm,
when we can neither be glad in the one, nor do
our best in enduring gallantly the other, when
we can only silently submit to the oppression
of a chill neutrality, is not that the time when
the physical and moral elements of our nature
suffer most? Is not that the time when aches
and ill—tempers commit remorseless depreda-
tions upon even the most healthy bodies and
pious dispositions? Are not those days which
suggest vague speculations as to whether if by
any possibility a gray sky could shroud para-
disical regions for a cycle of time, angelicalness
could stand the test?

And what a neutral day is to the atmospheri-
cal conditions that inﬂuence our natures is neg-
ative selﬁshness to the moral conditions that
make up our lives. Positive selﬁshness we can
discern, and, well prepared against, can meet
and endure; at least our ﬁner sensibilities we
can protect from its dampening inﬂuence, as
we do our Sunday garments from the storm.
But the penetrative chill of negative selﬁshness
entering into the woof of many a life slowly
but surely tones down its bright hues to cold
grayness; transforms youthful glow and en—
thusiasm into morbidness and cynicism.

Instances of this negative selﬁshness and its
inﬂuence upon young lives must be familiar to
us all. Who has not known young men whose
wills have been gradually subserved to the ne—
gative selﬁshness of a parent or parents, in
matters of creed, of profession, of love, and
whose lives. as a consequence, proved almost
utter failures—or, if apparently successful in
one way, have been utterly barren of that sense
of zest and completeness with which every life
left to seek the attainment of its own realized
needs may be ﬁlled? And how numberless are
the girl—souls repressed and deformed, the girl-
lives blighted and rendered misanthropical, by
being kept under a yoke of negative selﬁshness
that makes attention to some invalid relativo,
devotion to some inefﬁcient friend, cruciﬁxions
of desires and ambitions, appear in the mista-
ken light of present duty—perhaps a perma-
nent life—work. A particular illustration of
this negative selﬁshness, as revealed in another
form, occurs for mention. A gentleman of ge-

 

nial reﬁnement and attraction, but a man not I and when you get them don‘t bore important

wealthy, met and wooed a young girl who lived
in the home of a brother. She supported her-
self very comfortably, and by her position in
her brother’s family was enabled to enjoy ex-
cellent society. Her lover was ambitions to
gain wealth; he held a good position, was able
to live, while not hampered with a wife, in fas-
tidious style, and meet with his betrothed in
high social circles; but as he told her, conﬁ-
dently, he had no intention of marrying until
he “ owned a handsome house and thirty thou-
sand dollars, to settle upon his wife the day he
married her.” Of course this conﬁdence was
given in the tenderest manner, and put in the
light of the most exquisite devotion. The
young lady could not resent the heroism of a
love determined to win desirable conditions for
her. And asthe years go by she is comfort-
ably situated, and he loves her and works for
her. But she is neither in the brightness nor
the storm. She is only under the depressing
inﬂuence of the neutral day—the sweet, rich
depths of her young womanly nature are get-
ting cold, and worldly, and morbid, from the
abiding but almost impalpable effects of her
lover s negative selﬁshness. True, he devoted-
ly loves her; he does not desire to take his
bride from a luxurious home and its entree for
her into a pleasant social world, into less com-
forts or a lower station. He is content that he
is much with her, and that while he waits to
take her into his nearest life they both are able
to maintain an appearance that satisﬁes his re-
ﬁned tastes. And so, in his negative selﬁsh-
ness, he forgets to analyze woman-nature, and
see that he is forcing her to submit to a con-
tinued expectancy and suspense that is ruinous
to temper, and to a position, even though she
is to a degree independent, that wears upon
and hardens her sensibilities, and to an experi—
ence that is rendering her worldly and self-
suppressed; he carelessly fails to understand
that her woman’s heart, in its youthful enthu-
siasm, would have found a hundred times
greater satisfaction in having spent its sweet
devotion on him, and in endurance with him,
than it ever will in soulless goods he waits to
win for her.

But of all the negative selﬁshnem that dark-
ens human souls, the negative selﬁshness of the
husband or wife, one to the other, is most cruel,
because so wholly unescapable. The little mat-
ters in which the heart may be chilled by those
dearest and nearest us are the great matters
which make the sum of the tragedies that are
daily happening to human souls.

“ We have careful thought for the stranger,

And smiles for the sometime guest;
But oft for our own the bitter tone.
Though we love our own the best."

While we affect to despise positive selﬁsh~
ness, wherever and whenever we see it evi-
denced, let us study all our motives well, that
we may free them from a worse element-—
negative selﬁshness!

A PAasox’s DAUGHTER.

 

AUTOGRAPH ALBUMS.

 

NEXT to looking over photograph albums
my great delight is to pore over—Tom says I
ought to have written “ paw over ”—autograph
albums, and notice the sentiments and hand—
writing of the writers and see if I can detect
their characters thereby. Then I wonder if
the sentiments echo the heart of the auto—
graphist—I don’t know as you'll ﬁnd that word
in the dictionary.

Here is one: “ I ask no higher boon than to
be called your frien .”

That is pretty, but the writer could not ﬁnd
room enough for the last word and so divided
it, putting “fri” on one line and “end " on
the next, and a fri-end is somewhat of a queer
character for a person to wish to be.

Another reads: “ Would I might speak the
thoughts I bear to thee; but they do choke and
ﬂutter in my throat and make me like a child.”

That is awful “spoony,” and I don’t think
the writer’s head would hurt any one if it were
used as a base ball, for it must be fearfully and
terribly soft. I am inclined to think he thinks
more of himself than others do of him. It
seemeth to show itself in his writings.

The names of two boarding-school girls came
next—the word “chums,” joining them to-
gether with a sort of friendly link. I wonder
if they used to wander dewn green lanes and
tell to each other all their secrets, hopes, joys
and sorrows—school girls suppose they have so
many sorrows—and vowed eternal friendship
to each other, and then got mad the next day
because they fell plump in love with the same
“feller,” and blamed said feller for allowing
them to do so. Mat a strange and ﬁckle
thing this friendship between school—girls is— so
peculiarly enthusiastic while it lasts, but lasts
such a short time! It is incomprehensible how
these females will smile on each other one day
and frown on the next. to make up again on
the third, only to get mad once more on the
fourth. But, “such is life.”

“ Yours with a bushel basketful of love.” I
can see the writer in my mind’s eye, just
roguish enough to be the adored of her school—
mates and the torment of her teachers. Just
the individual to ﬂirt with all the fellows of
the Academy and have the teachers obliged to
nail the blinds down so she cannot cast sheep’s
eyes at the young artist over the way. And
she is just the one to pull those identical nails
out and lay the blame on the cat. I can almost
imagine her standing up before Miss Prim, who
says: “Miss Millicent, did you not know how
wrong it was for you to do as your are doing,
and didn’t you know what a bad example you
are setting the other scholars?”

And Millie’s anewer seems to come to me
in this form: “ Yes, ma’am, and don't you
think pineapple ice-cream is awful good?”

A young, merry girl she must be, who says
strange things and acts in a stranger manner,
yet a very lovable creature, for all that,
and one who makes strange havoc with young
men’s hearts. In fact, she is just the creature
the girls envy for her powers of fascination,
and all the while keep remarking that they
“cannot see how any one can fancy such a
harum-scarum creature.” Maybe they’d give
a good deal to be such a “harum—scarum
creature” themselves. "I‘is the way of the
world, my dear.

These albums are good to look over in after
years, and serve sometimes to make the
writers stand out in bold relief. They may
call to mind some friend whom we have for-
gotten who should have been remembered.
Mayhap we shall ﬁnd some friendly and well-
meant advice within the pages of these al—
bums; advice which We would have done
well to have heeded. Loving thoughts from
father and mother may be expressed be-
tween the covers. Friendly hands that now
lie cold in the grave may have penned words
which seemed so common in their lifetime
that are now invaluable to us, and we think
how strange it is that we only begin to know
the worth of those around us when we lose
them. We say “if we but had them back
how differently would we treat them.” Would
we? I fear not.

I think that all should have these albums,

 

personages for their signature and sentiments,
for some people will feel quite reticent in
having theirs in the same book. Let it be a
friendly album, and ﬁlled with friends‘ names.
You’ll ﬁnd it good company for bright days
and dark days. You’ll not feel quite so lone-
some with such good company about you.

Brother Tom says I had better write in
some one’s album—

“Here is the autograph of Eve Lawless,
When she dies there‘ll be one jaw less,"

and add that she wore out one jaw in life be-
rating. people for their follies, foibles and
shortcomings, and endeavoring to have people
imagine she is perfection.

I wear set myself up for a saint. Did I?
Isn’t he just hateful? EVE LAWLESS.

 

Foolseﬂll’apers.

Address Before an Agricultural Fair.

LADIES and gentlemen, I congratulate you
upon your good judgment in selecting me to
deliver the annual address before this honor—
able society and its patrons.

No one has taken agriculture more to heart
or made it so much of a study as I have. I
have spent my whole life in reading agricultu-
ral reports, and have driven out into the
country two or three times.

I have always fully believed in my own mind
that there was nothing like agriculture, and
many of you will agree with me, and even
when a boy in climbing over the rear fence of
the fair-grounds I said there was never any-
thing like an Agricultural Fair, and the only
objection then which I could raise was on ac-
count of the price of admission. Such was my
zeal that I frequently got myself into trouble
in this way.

When I look round me to—day and see the
evidences of a farmer’s life I say God bless
him! I tell you I would rather borrow a hun-
dred dollars of a good old honest farmer than
any other man. I would rather eat at a farm-
er’s table than eat at my own.

What better sign of agricultural thrift can
be found than those beautiful quilts present,
each one made of several thousand pieces? I
tell you they are the very ﬁnest products that
can be cultivated on a farm. When a good Old
farmer wraps one of those around him and lies
down to pleasant dreams, the mortgages on his
farm and the taxes vanish into thin air.

The agricultural display here to—day is un-
usually large. I am overjoyed to look around
and see so many good—looking girls. The crop
is splendid. It shows they were raised on good
farms, and I think they deserve the premium.
If I wasn’t an Old married man I would be
agricultural enough to try and cultivate a lik~
ing for some of them. I have also noticed a
pretty good exhibition of agricultural babies.

I am sure that no one having the products of
a farmer’s vocation at heart could fail to come
here and not be overwhelmed with pleasure at‘
the contemplation of the candy—stands on every
hand, and nothing could be more inspiring to
the agricultural eye than those wooden horses
swinging round in a circle at ﬁve cents a ride.
I invested a nickel in that purely rural exer-
cise but my head got to going around faster
than my body, and I was compelled to fall off
and take a nap in the grass.

[Speaking of grass reminds me that I never
saw a better display of gram-Widows than I
have seen today at this fair, although it might
hint at bad husbandry]

I am pleased to see that every year farming
becomes more advanced as a profession. Those
wax ﬂowers and crocheted ferns show to the
whole world just how itisimproving, and those
sewing-machines are so ﬁnely adjusted that
they will sow anything from a calico dress to
a ﬁeld of oats. When I was a boyish child we
did our sowing by hand, and I may add that
some boys were raised by hand with a switch
in it.

Perhaps there is nothing that shows the pro-
gress of the agricultural interests better than
the horse-races which I have seen here to-day.
‘Vhen I looked at those feats of speed I wanted
to be a farmer, and became so enthusiastic over
it that I invested ten dollars on the white horse
for a purely agricultural purpgpe, but I had for-
gotten to state I had bet owe horse that came
in last, and the fellow .nt away with my
money and his ﬁnger pulling down his left eye.
Nevertheless, agriculture as exhibited in a
horse—race is a good thing.

As I was walking through these grounds I ob-
served a lonesome fellow tossing three solitary
cards. I paused and inquired the reason. He
said that he was agriculturally inclined to think
I could not follow the ace of spades which he
showed me. Said I, “ My young farmerial
friend. I have just ﬁve dollars which says I can
just do that very thing.” He said all right.
and I put my ﬁnger right down on it and it
didn’t happen to be it. He observed, as he roll-
ed up the money and put it in his pocket, that
the best farmers sometimes make a mistake.

The occupation of a farmer in my mind is one
of the most pleasant of recreations. What is
more delightful thaﬁ‘to see the patient ox hitch-
ed up to the sickle going through a ﬁeld reap-
ing potatoes from the potato-stalks? What is
more cheerful than to lie in bed and know that
your corn is coming up whether you are there
or not, or to sit back and drink cider and be
aware that every stalk of wheat is growing
without your being compelled to be out there
and put a. head on it, while the corn puts its
ears out and listens for the breakfast-bell?

In the occupation of an honest farmer I can
imagine nothing more exhilarating and emo-
bling than eating ham and egg breakfasts.

If I were a farmer haw delightful would it
be to roll up my sleeves and go forth while the
sun is warm and effulgent and eat apples, or
hitch up my team early to a spanker and go
down the road like a breeze with another breeze
after it.

Farmers are independent; indeed, they are
the most independent set of people I know of.

And when fair time comes around with what
pride does the farmer gather together the pro-
duce of his farm for exhibition to the astonish-
ed world! He brings in his premium thistles,
which show how much pains have been taken
to cultivate them; and his champion mince-
pies, which only grow to perfection on a good
farm; and his three legged chickens; and his
horned muley cows; and his persimmons; and
crab-cider; and his paw-paws; and ginseng;
and ripe, luscious cucumbers; and his cane ﬁsh-
poles with corn blades stuck on them; and
smear-case; and crooked gourds; and his girls
and boys and the old folks! Ah, there is noth-
ing half like it.

If I was the premier of this society you
would all go home to—night with the ﬁrst pre-
mium. I thank you all for your kind atten-
tion. The band will now play, and if there is
any good old farmer present who is just going
to lunch and will give me a pressing invitation
to join 111 I will show him how much I like
agricultural victuals.

WASHINGTON WEI‘I‘EHORN.

 

Topics of the Time.

——Frequently in stories of wild Western life
occur the expressions: “ b’iled shirt,” and “ store
clothes.” What they mean this description of
a recent ball at a mining town, in Colorado, will
indicate: “We had a rude log cabin, the star—
light gleaming through the chinks between the
logs, vying with the feeble gleams of tallow dips
in making the darkness visible, and the very
small space absnlutely necessary for the dancers
ﬁoored with warped and gnarled whip-sawed
lumber, for which we had paid at the rate of
$100 for 1 000 feet. Then there were but eight
ladies present participating in the dance, though
the entire feminine element of the town was re-
presented; there were present a goodly assem-
blage of men. but such an uncouth assemblage
rarely graced a ballroom. for proud was he who
could boast a coat to hide his woolen shirt, and
two or three who had white shirts were at once
the admiration and envy of the rest."

 

—qultan Murad’s condition is pitiable indeed,
if accounts from Constantinople are true. A cor-
respondent of the Messager dulllr'di sends to that
paper a letter purporting to have been written
by the Sultan’s physician, which says, “ Murad is
dying from delirium tremens, brought on by hard
drinking, principally absinthe, reckless debauch-
ery, remorse for his uncle’s death, and dread of
a Russian invasion, or attacks on his palace by
)Iussulmnn fanatics.” Nice thing to marry—this
chap! Who would like to be a sultana?

—'I‘he treeless portions of the great prairies
in several of our Western States and Territories
are being rapidly supplied with forests by indi-
vidual farmers planting quick-growing varieties.
In Minnesota alone about one and a half million
of trees, mostly cottonwood, were planted last
year and this. This is better than “preserving
the forests,” and appointing a useless Commis-
sioner to look after them, nearly all of which are
in distant or almost inaccessible regions.

-During the forced march of Terr ’s troops
to unite with Crook’s command, the ifth Regi~
ment, after they had just com leted a fatiguing
march of sixteen miles, starte on one of thirty-
ﬁve through the blinding dust and darkness of
night, over a rough and diﬁlcult country covered
with cactus thorns, and made forty-three miles
in twenty-four consecutive hours, equal to a
march of sixty miles over ordinary country.

—The salaries of the different monaichs of Eu-
rope are given as follows bya German statisti-
cian: Alexander IL, 89 152,000, or $25,000 a day:
the late Sultan, Abdul Aziz, $9,000,000, or $18,-
000 a day; Francis Jose h, $4,000,000, or $10,050
a day; Frederick Wil iam 11., $3,000,000, or
$8,200 a day; Victor Emmanuel, $2,400,000. or
$6,840 a day; Victoria, $2,200,000, or $6,270 a
day; Leopold, $600,000, or. $1,643 a day. In ad-
dition to this salary, each of these individuals is
furnished with a dozen or more ﬁrst class houses
to live in without any charge for rent.

——Neuralgia in the faces and heads of women is
largely on the increase as compared with the
number of instances of the disease among men,
and this is believed to be due to the inferior pro-
tection afforded by the mode in which yomen
new cover their heads. It is not only one of the
most common of feminine maladies, but one of
the most painful and difﬁcult of treatment. It
is also a cause of much mental depression, and is
regarded by physicians as leading more often to
habits of intemperance among women than any
other disease.

-—-A prominent citizen of St. Paul, we are told,
rushed into one of St. Paul’s large dry-goods
stores and stopped at the button counter; he
had a small sample of brown silk in his hand,
and he asked the smilin clerk if he had any but-
tons to match that. “ lenty, sir," was the an
SWcr; “will you have them by the gross ?”
“No, sir,” roared the citizen, “I want them by
the bushel-cartload—ton! Iwant them sent
up in wagons and backed into my cellar till it is
full and running over. I’m sick of hearing,
‘J -o-h-n, did you match those buttons?’ I am
not going to spend the rest of my days running
around trying to match impossible colors!
There’s my check; but I tell youl won’t feel
like myself till I’ve laid in my Winter supply of
buttons!”

——It may not be generally known that the
nickel deposit near the Gap, Lancaster county,
Pa, is considered the largest yet discovered in
the world, and the only deposit of the ore work-
ed in America. The mine is on the high givid-
ing line between Chester and Pequea V leys.
Besides nickel, copper, iron and limestone are
found in the same locality. Nickel was discov—
ered here about the year 1856, though copper,
which is taken from the same mine, was known
in this locality seventy years ago. The ore has a
gray color, is very heavy, and so hard that it is
mined entirely by blasting. After the ore has
been broken into small fragments, it is put into
kilns holding eighty or ninety tons each, and
subjected to heat produced at ﬁrst by the burn-
ing of a small quantity of wood, and continued
by rhe conversion of the expelled gas. It is then
put into a smelting furnace, and undergoes a
treatment similar to that of iron ore.

—At a late meeting of the French Academy of
Science, Captain Roudaire, under the direction
of M. De Lesseps, presented his report, giving
the result of his last expedition in Algiers. The
conclusion arrived at is that it is possible to in-
undate a surface of 3,000 square miles, and that
there will be a depth of water varying from 75
to 130 feet. The Isthmus Cabes, through which
it is proposed to cut acanal, presents no Obsta-
cles in the way of solid rock; in fact, nothing
but sand, easily removed, and is only about thir-
teen miles wide. To cut this canal it is estimat-
ed that not more than 24,000,000 cubic yards of
earth must be excavated. A short canal is being
at this time dug on the Isthmus of Suez, under
conditions analogous to those referred to, cost-
ing about nineteen cents the cubic yard for ex-
cavation. Therefore, the cost of the Algerian
canal would be about 20,000,000 francs, or
$4,000,000. It is estimated that this outlay
would soon be reimbursed by the income that
would be derived from ﬁshery licenses.

—The Western press is reatly incensed by
the inventive genius of the ast which has cov-
ered the greasy, copper-colored hide of Sitting
Bull with the glamor of rOmance. 1t informs
the mendacious ﬁction-writers of the East that
the said Sitting Bull is not a West Point cadet
in disguise; that he does not speak French; that
he resembles neither Napoleon nor Gov, Tilden;
that he is not a picturesque Logan or Metamora,
pacing with melancholy mien up and down his
Wigwam, and sighing, “Where is the home of
my fathers?" but that he is merely a dirty,
bloody, cutthroat Indian, with a game leg and an
enormous capacity for whisky.

——A mass of ninety million tons of pure, solid,
compact rock-salt, located on an island 185 feet
high, which rises from a miserable sea-marsh on
the route from Brasbear to New Iberia, up the
River 'I‘eche, in Louisiana, is one of the wonders
of the world. How this island, containing over
three hundred acres of excellent land, ever came
into existence in such a locality, is a matter of
conjecture. Vegetation is proliﬁc, and the scen-
ery is beautiful and varied. Here is an immense
bed of pure rock-salt whose extent is as yet only
estimated, and scientiﬁc men are puzzled to know
what produced it.

—Never offer a bon-bon to a boa constrictor.
M. Laurent, aged twenty-three, the brother of a.
professional snake-charmer at Lyons, Mlle. Lau-
rent, recently extended some civility to aserpent
of this sort, seven yards long, owned by his sister.
The snake, seizing him by the wrist, be an to
call itself around his body. The youth cried for
help. His sister ran up, and—see what it is to
know how to handle a snake—seized a bucket of
water, and poured it over the imprisoned arm.
The boa opened its jaws as the water ﬂooded it,
and the nimble youth escaped.

Readers and Contributors.

Declined: “ To a Beauty;" “ Custer‘s Char e;"
“ The Lost Child:" “ A Belle of Fifty:" “ Why T ose
Tears;" “ She Should Say No."

Accepted: “A Good Man‘s Choice;“ “The Rose
of Liston Hall;" “ My Mustan ‘s Conceit;" “Wh’en
Tears Fail:" “A Guess; ‘ “S ooting in the Tree
Top;“ “ Snow and Snow Drops;” “Struck Dumb."

 

SArntv SUN. The “ducat" (Austrian coin) is
worth $2.28; the “crown” $6.64. That was the
“ducat " talked-Of in the “ Merchant of Venice.”

Moxon. We know of no new variety of peach that
“ grows vigorously for years and bears every year ”
Some humbug. he peddler is around, we guess.

HOUSE No. 2. N0 better method of getting rid of
“the curse of cats " than arsenic on meat, left out
in the yard. If cats will invade your privacy. you
are not responsible for what they eat.

ern WING. Hounds do not take to water. If
you have a‘hunting dog that will go in water freel ,

on must have a breed touched with spame .

ointers and setters so touched are admirable for
ﬁeld, woods or water.

HARRY Row. You cannot infringe on an author’s
copyright by "adopting" his story. If you use his
incident, plot and character, you appropriate his
property. You must ﬁrst obtain his or her assent
to the stage adaptation.

SLAP DAsn. Girls may masquerade in men’s
clothes at home for sport, but if found on the street
are liable to arrest, though such arrests are rarely
made. if the person is modestly behaved. Would
not advise the adventure proposed.

G. W. B. The poem is well conceived but is not
well expressed. Many of its lines are defective in
rhyme, and not sustained in strength. For compo-
sitions of this class much is demanded. Associa—
tion. by initiation, with Tennyson‘s “Charge at
Balaklava ” challenges a severe ordeal.

LULU. Keep your pledge always, and give none
you cannot keep. If you desire tO possess the gift
there is no impropriety in doing as your friend sug-
gests. By complying you have the satisfaction of
having, as it were, warned the gift. and will ever
prize it the more fondlv that it was so secured.

OsCEOLA CLUB. The French did not win a single
battle in the Franco-German war. There were
movements whirt were successes, but when arm
met army the Germans carried or held the ﬁel .
We think it would be hard for Algerines to ﬁnd wild
cats enough for the purpose of war. As a single
sword thrust or pistol shot would slay such an ene-
my, in close quarters, the use of cats would be ab-
s No nation has “ the most desperate ﬁghting
men." The French soldier is of brutal courage and
pluck; the German is unﬂinching and terribly tena-
cious; the Turk ﬁerce and indifferent to fear: the
Prussian very obedient and valiant under orders;
the English wary. intelligent and resolute; the
Americans chivalric, quick and efﬁcient.

GEORGE W. Read the story of General Francis
Marion‘s adventures as a sailor boy and you will
have .mmw indication of what it is to be a sailor. It
is. at best, a dog's life. You literally are at the
mercy of any brute of a captain, or ruﬁian of a
mate. and are tyrannized over in a way that makes
sailors worse than slaves. Now-a—days, while steam-
ships are fast driving sailing vessels from the sea,
there is less and less incentive to be a sailor. We
earnestly advise you to curb your desires for the
sea, for we assure you it is not the calling for a re-
spectable and well educated boy to adopt. You
can do far better.

CHARLES HENRY. To keep grapes until Christmas,
pick the fully ripened hunches now, handling them
with care. Remove from the stem, by scissors, all
the grapes either defective or injured. Dry well
for a week in a dry room (not cellar) with tempera-
ture about 70". Then place in boxes lined with raw
cotton or “batting.” each bunch wholly separated
from contact with the others. Cover the boxes to
exclude li ht and air, and place them in a perfectly
dry room. emperature not over Examine them
occasionally to remove all decaying berries and to
prevent moulding.

LAURA, of Fairville. Hesitancy of speech by no
means inspires paucity of ideas. It is, in your case,
evidently a. mental timidity. To overcome it, school
yourself to self possession. It can be done, espec-
ially if those you associate with arid. by encourag-
ing you to speak. A good friend will aid you im-
measurably. If no such friend is available, sim ly
resolve not only to see society but force yourse to
conversation. In time your “ stammering and
blushing ” will depart to worry you no more. Your
penmanship is not free enough: you write with your

 

ﬁngers and not by moving the wrist. Practice
writing in a. In’rﬂP’l' text. Use a set Of the Sp)encer—
ian copy books—they will aid in developing eauty
and cleamess of chirography.

DR. E. Your cards should be
DR. AND Mas. J OHN BLANK.
The lady‘s name
MISS A—B —
upon a se arate card somewhat smaller, and both
inclosed n the reception or wedding invitation
printed upon note paper. Paper, cards and enve-
opes square. with a handsome monogram.

LOUIsE V., Chicago. The prettiest ﬂowers to
wear with very light sage green silk at a wedding,
would be blush roses and half-open buds. They
would, we think, suit your complexion charmingly.
White ﬂowers would also be pretty. but we have
seen the faint blush rose with the color, and it was
extremely effective.

J Am EYRE asks: “ Can you tell me any cure for
bad breath?" A disagreeable breath usually pro-
ceeds either from decayed teeth or disordered stom-
ach. In the ﬁrst case. consult the dentist; in the
second, the doctor. But if your teeth are sound,
your health good, try the following wash. using it
several times a day. in the water you use for cleans-
ing the teeth, and rinsing the mouth freely with it,
and even gargling. Procure from a druggist a bot-
tle of chlorine water. and use it in the proportion of
two tablespoonfuls to a tumbler of clear water.

BARLOW. Pittsﬁeld. You can make a ood ink-
powder by ding together six ounces 0 calcined
sulphate 0 iron, two ounces powdered nutcalls,
and two drachms of powdered m arabic. When
you wish to make the ink, use he powder in the
pro ortion Of a teaspoonful to a pint and a half of
col water.

IKOGENE writes: “ Inclosed is a lock of my hair.
Please tell me your opinion of it, and if on would
call it red? Some do. My eyes are blac as coals.
Do black eyes and red hair make a person look bad-
1y?" Your hair is ﬁne. soft and beautiful. It is not
red, but a lovely auburn. You should take excellent
care of it. Black eyes, with that colored hair, must
be rather attractive than otherwise.

N. 0., Allen, Michigan, says: “ I am kee ing com-
pany with a lady of whom I think a great eal. She
seems (at least while in my presence.) to return my
love; but there is one thing which I cannot com-

rehend. There is a young fellow (I do not believe

'm to be a gentleman,) who has, of late, shown her
attentions. I have asked her, several times, to
keep out of his company, 'ving my reasons for so
doing. But what I as is 0 no use. She partly rom-
ises but kee s on in is compan . What is i beat
for me to o?“ It is evident t t the lady either
cares very much for the gentleman in question, or
very little for you. We should advise you, in a r-
fectly kindly but serious manner. verbally orby et-
ter, to state your grounds for disliking your rival,
and then ask her to choose between you. If she
cares for your compan , she will acquiesce with
your wishes. If she pre ers him, accept your fate
like a man; but resolve to have no further coquet-
ting on the lady’s part with both you and “ the oth-
er man.” Your writing is very fair, but our punc-
tuation and composition not entirely fau tless.

Vishnu, E. 8. in a neat note, sweet with violet,
asks: “ Can you tell me the latestfaslnon in visit-
ing cards? I am but ei hteen, and Just entering so-
ciety, and would consi or it a kindness, if ,?u will
tell me what the corner turning 3 ﬁles Cer-
tainl we will, and answer: Unglue Bristol board,
a little larger than that used last year, is the res-
ent style for a lady’s visiting card, more oblong an
square in shape. Some are elegantly tinted. Us-
ually the corners are printed in tiny latte with
the word signiﬁed, when the corner is turned. us,
the right hand u per corner is turned. to denote a
ceremonious ca , and the word “ Verde " may be
printed there; the left hand upper corner turned,
signiﬁes a call of congratulation, after an on e-
ment, a wedding, safe return from a voyage or ot er
happ events, and the word “ Felecia/tum ” is suita-
ble; {he left hand lower corner is turned for a visit
of condolence after a funeral or other melancholy
occasion, and the word “ condolence ” should be

tinted in that corner; the ri ht hand lower corner
3 turned to denote a farewe visit before leaving
town, and “ Adieu" is printed on the reverse side.
In leaving a card “PIOVIOIIS to avoyage or long ab-
sence, a plain ca with the letters P. P. c. in the
left hand corner, is the most stylish, the letterg srg-
nifying either “presents parting complements or,
“ pour proud conge,” (to take leave.)

Unanswered mum on hard will appear

 

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