Eintered According to A of Congress, in the Year 1875, by Street & Smith, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress. Washington, D. C. STREET & SMITH, j Proprietors. ; Vou, XXXL BRogr, BY MARY E. LAMBERT. Last night, while others slept, I at my window stood, And looking forth, I saw the hali-grown moon Bathe her pale beams in bosom of the sea, Then light the trees that waved in far-off wood. All seemed so silent, scarce a sound I heard— Upon the water, ships distant, with white sails, Moved like pale phantoms, while from out the wood Came chirps of crickets and faint call of bird. And as I watched, there fell a sudden chill Dpon my senses; all the warm blood That iately coursed so mildly through my veins Seemed frozen, and with one great throb stood still. The very moen seemed white to grow with cold— Huge mountains rose from out the northern sea Of frothy clouds, like icebergs tipped with snow, Until they seemed the broad space to infold. As I still gazed, I saw an artist hand Paint all the trees in rarest, richest hues— Brown, scarlet, gold; indeed, the very grass Changed its bright green at touch of mystic wand I wondered would the skillful artist spread His colors rare upon my fading flowers! When morning came I hied me to their side, And lo! the work was done--my flowers were dead! Preak-Neck Ben, THE BOY PIONEER. — OR, — FRONTIER LIFE IN MINNESOTA. By Frank H. Stauffer. Author of “FANCHET, THE FAWN.” ete., etc. CHAPTER I. LOST ON THE PRAIRIE, “Christie! Christie!” Break-Neck Ben made a speaking trumpet of his freckled hands, and called his sister through the lonely glen. She was not in sight, to be sure; but things that are not in sight are sometimes within hearing. Such was not the case this time, nor with her, however; for no reply came, though he called re- peatedly, and more loudly each time. He was a short, thick-set little fellow, muscular in development, quick in movement, keen in vision, settled in his purposes.’ Hair bushy, cheeks swarthy, eyes bright, mouth large, face honest and—ugly. Little Christie, however, did not think him ugly; nor did anybody else, once they became acquainted with him, for he was brave, polite, thoughtful, and good-natured, and at sixteen had pulled through rougher experiences than many men do in half a life- time. He wore a bear-skin cap, round as a bullet, and without any peak, which, perhaps, was the reason his face was so freckled. He had on a knit blouse, entire to be sure, but well patched, and with pockets on the hips large enough to carry a good luncheon. His pantaloons were sustained by a belt of leather, to which hung a sheath-knife. His boots came up to his knees, and were heavy and hob-nailed, and as broad and flat-footed as army shoes. There wasn’t a lazy bone in his body, nor a par- ticle offear in his composition. He could read, write, and cipher, and was “chuck full of a hard day’s work.” The backwoodsmen called him Break-Neck Ben; not because he ever broke other people’s necks, but because he frequently risked his own. He rode the wildest horses, swam the deepest streams, climbed the highest trees, penetrated the thickest forests, and pushed across the broadest prairies—a little recklessly.so, but always with sa- gacity. Somebody has said that boys go through the world either petted or pelted. It was not the case with Ben. He would not be petted, though he liked praise, as every boy does; and whenever he was pelted he managed to pelt back as muchas he could. Not just the Sunday-school code, to be sure, but there were no Sunday-schools near where Ben lived, He didn’t set himself up is a saint, and yet was con- siderably below the average of little sinners. Christie was his sister. She often wandered from the cottage, but she seldom went so far, and never stayed so late—for it was almost dusk. The sunlight was slanting over the hills, the cows were coming across the prairie to be milked, a team- ster was guiding his ox-cart along a bridle-path on his way‘home, a few -black clouds were looming up on the herizon: The birds were keeping up a great racket in the tree-tops, just as if they all wanted to roost on the same limb. Padded feet were causingthe dry twigs to crackle, and by-and-by, as the night deepened, fiery eye-balls would glare through the thickets. You see, boys, all this was out in ‘the wilds of Minnesota, a good many years ago, and before she had been taken into the family of States on a prom- fse of good behavior. The towns of St. Paul and. St. Cloud weren’t loca- ted; Mendota was a. little trading post; then Fort Snelling was one. of the strongest forts on the fron- tier, now it is as useless as a swallow’s nest, for the frontier is three hundred miles further on. Break-Neck Ben called again and again, then set his head to one side and listened. But he heard nothing but the echo of his voice among the rocks and trees, and a sound that might have been the baying of wolves. He was beginning to become alarmed about his little sister. He glanced back at the cottage, which looked very pretty in the gathering twilight, Nos. P.O. Box 4896, New York. 27, 29, 31 Rose St., NEW YORK, NOVEMBER 22, 1875. EG if HL Strong, muscular fingers gras It was built of logs and. rough hewn shingles, with | a chimney that covered half the gable, and a cone- shaped roof over the door to shed the rain. Morning glories festooned door-irame and win- dows, and verbenas, petumias and nasturtiums bloomed in the beds fringed with boxwood. His mother was taking in the clothes from a strip of line; his father, in his shirt-sleeves, was carrying a pail of swill to the pigs; the chickens were mount- ing the slats which led to their roosts. Next Ben glanced down the glen, and it looked dark and dangerous; but he did not care for that while thinking of Christie. Into the shadows he plunged—calling her—-calling her! Past the bluff of jagged rocks—calling her! Over the noisy, low-bedded brook—calling her! Through the long, rank grass—calling her! But no answer came back. The echoes of his voice mocked him. Darker grew the night, deepet 1 grew the underwood, lonelier grew the way. ws Ben, of course, had alast name, and that trie Brentwood. Break-Neck Ben Brentwood! A sw -t name because there were so many bees in it, }ien used to say. His father’s name was John, and he had built the little cottage, rough-hewing the logs, cutting the shingles, and laying the chimney-place, Ben helping lim, of course.,® | Uf Yi yy yy Ny Yy Uy Me iy, father and mother sat dow) to the supper table; not to eat, but to talk and wat until Ben came back with little Christie. It grew dark rapidly; there was no moon; the black clouds were driftingup from the horizon. Mrs. Brentwood pushel aside the window cur- tains; after a while sheit the fat-lamp; then Mr. Brentwood went to the dor. He looked across. the pairie, he strained. his eyes into the glen. He took jut his pipe, but did not light it, for he was more measy about the children than he cared to let on. He waited, watched, yhistled, then he walked back into the room. Hestood by the fire-place, his hands behind him, and lis eyes wandering toward the little clock. “T can’t think, Mary, wat keeps the children.” He spoke quietly, butthe fact of his uneasiness was not tobe hidden fom her. Her face grew White. then all the color'eturned to it. He saw her ‘lips flutter. “She is’ praying in silnce,” he thought. ‘She always gets her strengh in that way. I’ve heard the parson talk about a abundant entrance into Heaven. Whether he mant that the gates would be swung ‘wide open, owhether there W ould be agladder welcome tha ordinary, I don’t know. But if anybody gets intc Heaven in that way it will be my wife, Mary.” The pigs fed and the clothes carried in, arecles® The wife trimmed te lamp, then took up her MA TAO ELIE A AIOE knitting. Twenty minutes passed, and then John Brentwood again walked to the door. Though streaks of red were visible low in the west, it was quite dark, for a storm was brooding. Heavy black clouds .were scudding by overhead, and a damp, misty smell: went by on the wind. The raccoon quavered his. notes in the, hollows; the wolves bayed on the slopes; the horses pawed restlessly;. the cattle lowed; .the leaves rustled like dry corn-shucks. John Brentwood shook his head, and tightened the belt around his waist. The low, distant rumbling of thunder was heard, a stream of lightning flamed across the sky, the wind whistled angrily, a drop of rain fell on the back of his hand, then another on his cheek. “Tt is going to be a bad night,” he muttered, with a Shake of his head. ‘‘Benis game, and slow to give in, but he should ‘have been back with Christie ere this.” Into the cottage he strode. ‘‘Mary, I must go after the children,” he said. His voice was grave,. but not quite steady. His wife lifled her face, and there was a quiver of pain in it. ‘Ben is strong and, brave,” she said. will take care of them.” “J know, Mary,” replied he, trying to seem satis- fied. “But they. will. get, wet. .There’s an ugly storm coming up, and Christie isn’t very strong, you know. Ben hasn’t found her, or he would be back. He isa sensible boy, and wouldn’t dally, lest we should become needlessly alarmed.” He took down his rifle from behind the chimney, examined the cap, then slipped a piece of buckskin over the hammer. Then from the mantel he took a lantern; he saw that there was a candle in it, and matches in the tube soldered to the bottom of it. His wife watched him, her lips again fluttering. She wasn’t very strong, nor very brave, but’ she trusted in the Lord, and He hath said: ‘‘He who putteth his trust in me shall be safe.” “Mary,” said Mr. Brentwood, “get me Christie’s hood and cape. And some doughnuts, Mary, to put in my overcoat-pocket. The little chit will be half famished.” ‘ “You'll take Dollie, John ?”’ She meant the mare—fleet as an. Arab steed, as tough and gentle as a Shetland pony. “To be sure, dear,’ said he. ‘*The children can ride her double-back, while I walk. Why, bless “Heaven Pec NN A OA ERATE PLM TA EOE, RE IEEE EE TENE SINNED EE OC AE IEG a AIhree Dollars Per Year. Two Copies Five Dollars. STREET, t FRANCIS 8. SMITH, { FRANCIS S, No, 1. EA SE ECE scram a them, however dark it may be, she’ll whinny. Get the things, Mary.” The mother got the hood, cape, and doughnuts, ‘and tied them up into a small parcel. The father put on his overcoat and fastened the little bundle to one of the great horn buttons. Then he bent and kissed his wife; he had to bend, he was such a, giant of a fellow, however squatty Ben was. ‘John, you are more uneasy about the children than you let on,” she said. “Do you think so?” asked he, He laughed; but it was not a natural laugh, and she was not deceived by it. “There is no doubt but I'll find them,” he contin- ued. ‘I’ll saddle Dollie, then ride to the door, and you can hand me the rifle.” He lighted the lantern and strode out to the sta- ble, which was a long, low shed, thatched with straw, and capable of stalling half-a-dozen cattle. Dollie heard his step, and saw the flash of the lan- tern, and whinnied. He entered the stable, sad- dled her, brought her out, and vaulted upon her back. She pawed, neighed, then shied at a bright flash of lightning. ‘ “Steady, Dolly!” said John Brentwood, settling himself in the saddle, and pulling hard on the rein, a hint to her that it was best for her to mind. He rode to the-door of the cottage. The light from the lantern gleamed across the pale; anxious tace of the wite. ‘Here is your rifle, John,” she said, her hands up- lifted; ‘‘your powder-flask and shot-pouch, too.” “Sure enough, Mary,’’ replied he, as he took the ar- ticles. “And now thatI think ofit, you may hand me the shell‘trumpet off the mantel. I may be able to make Ben hear, when I can’t see him.” The wife brought the sea-shell, and he blew a’blast on it that made the woods ring. The mare shook her head and snorted, not relishing the noise. : “John, had you not better put out the lantern ?’’ anxious- ly asked the wife., ‘‘The mare will pick her way.” ‘You are afraid that the light will make;me a mark for the redskins, eh? There haven’t been any about for months. Still, I'll oblige you.’’ He biew out the light, and she was startled at the dark- ness, “Good-by, darling,’’ hesaid. . ‘Don’t worry.” “God's love and watchfulness go with you,’’ she rever- ently said. He rode out upon the prairie in a brisk trot, a flash of lightning now and then revealing horse and rider, lessen- ing in the distance, The rain beat in Mrs, Brentwood’s face, and the wind seemed to cut like a knife, so she entered the cottage and closed the door after her. John Brentwood: found it rough enough on the prairie. The grass was almost up to his stirrups, and was wet and heavy; there were no knolls or groves to break the winds the rain beat down swiftly, slantwise, saucily; the light- ning flared blindingly, and crash of thunder followed crash. He drew his deer-skin cap far over his forehead, and put up the collar of his coat. “Sailors would call this ‘nasty’ weather,” he muttered. “Jt is not fit for an old settler like myself to be out in, les alone two children, one of whom is not much more thar ababy. Mercy! If little Christie should be lying ina gulch, wet, draggled, bleeding, famished, dead.”? The thought made him shudder. He compressed lis lips, and .giving the reins a jerk, struck off at almos! right angte. “Pl skirt the prairie now,’ he thought, ‘‘and then Fil be on a line Witli some of tlie ravines. The blast fromthe If it reaches gea-shell will be heard ata greater distance. CO PRORATED LOL OIE Ga % . Peen-swindied agin by some of those rascally gover’ment “ @€urn rong’ an’.jine you dn lookin’ for the childer,” Aner way. aa, Ben’s ears he will recogni@e it and signal in some way.” The verge of the praiite reached, he placed the shell to his lips and blew a louder biast than was ever blown at castle gate, Iie bent forward and listened. He heard the dte-away echo, the patter of the rain on his person, the w bir ofa startled partridge, the flutter of the leaves, the breathing of the mare. But no reply from Ben. On he rode, ever and anon blowing his shell-bugle; but no news of Ben or Ohristie. On he rode, the mare flinging the black loam about her, or stviking sparks of fire from the rocks, the wind sough- ing, the lightwing flaring, the thunder roaring and crash- ing, the rain beating down, Birds flattered on their roosts, frogs croaked in the marshes, ewls hooted dismally, foxes filtted by in the White mist, wolves glared and grinned, Sie blew the shell trumpet until his lips were swollen; he called antil his throat was hoarse; he waited and lis- tened, Wo sign or sound came from the lost ones. Ge orgssed a brook almost deep enough for the mare to swiin, and at dusk it had been a mere rivulet. Whe mare snorted asshe pulled up the wet, shelving fank-on the opposite side, teu she shied, stopped, aud trembled in every limb. Something living was just ahead—seen by the mareand feltby the rider. Waus it bear or brigand? Gouger or Comanche? Ghoul or ghost? Was it Ben flung from the roaring brook? Was it Qhristie, with white, dead face, tangled hair, and frayed dress? Why didn’t the lightning flare up just then, so that the startied rider might see ? OHAPTER It. THE WHIR OF AN ARROW. What was just ahead? An inexplainable sensation crept over John Brent- wood; it was not fear, bul it was more unpleasant and ubnerving than fear, He settled his feet well In the stir- rups; he did not speak to the mare, but he patted her en- couragingly on the neck. ‘ She planted her feet in the black mire, qnivered, pricked her ears, snorted—then neighed. Another horse neighed an reply, not five yards ahead. Solin Brentwood’s uneasiness subsided. He was ready to battle with anything alive and human. He filled his tungs, put the shell to his swollea lips, and blew a blast that would have split the throat of some of Gideon’s men. There was a pitch, a snort, a growled oath, then a deep Voice cried out: “Stami—man or demon! White?” “White as yourself, Joe Ellis,’ responded John Brent- wood, recoguizing the voice, and feeling still more re- lieved. “Thatv’sJohn Brentwood, Ill swar,”’ came back through the blackness, in a voice as stropg as an auctioneer’s. “\Vhen you blewed your nose that ar way, 1] war nigh Sent over my horse’s head. Ltho’tl’d rid right intoa camp of the red varmints. Don’t blow your nose agin ghat ar way without givin’ me some kind of warnin’.” Wr. Brentwood laughed, urged the mare threugh the matted grass, and soon the avimals were rubbing their noses together. S “What are you doing e@ut ‘to-night, Joe?’ asked Mr. Brentwood, “Makin? a fool of myself, I dar’ say. I war ridin’ over to Sandy Springs, but nothin’ of this ar storm war made menshun ofin my almanic. The water’s raanin’ out of the top of my boots, an’ they feel as heavy as lead. I warjust thinkin’ of cutting it for your hut, knowin’ I'd be welcome. What are you doin’ out?’ <‘After the children, Joe. Little Christie strayed away from the-cabin; then Ben went in search of her, and neither of them’s got in,” “‘Meroy sakes!? exclaimed.Joe Hilis.. ‘Brentwood, you Gon’t mean to suy ‘tuat the childer are out in this ar storny?” : - “7 am afraid so.” “Well, # mayn’t be so bad arter all, nelghbor,’’ re- jolmedithe-other, rather condolingly. ‘You see, that ar Ben ofyyourn would take tocover. He’s:cunnin’, gritty, Sgpertenced—a boy-man, with a bigger allowance of brains than’s commonly distributed to boys in these parts.” “Ben is a rigiitsmart boy, Joe, if I do say it inyself; but itis-not him lam worried about, Yousee, 1 am notsure that he has found Christie.” Eust then the lightning hung for a second or two in the sky, a broad, quivering sheet of fame, dimly reveallug the two-riders, . Soe Ellis sat upon arough, rain-drenched horse, shag- gy-maned, with less speed than bottom—a fair sample of the! English cob. Soe himself wag a lean, lank, slab-sided fellow, encased dn-eer-skin, his chest seemingly so Narrow that one won- dered how his voice could be so deep and strong. Whe rim of his slouch hat shed the-rain in every direc- tion. Al) of his face seemed to be beard save the very brown forehead and the little twinkling eyes.
  • @~< Pleasant Paragraphs. Did Not Agree With Him. Many years ago, the Rey. Dr. C.. (whe was then settled in B.) while preaching a sermon to his congregation, made use of the following sentence: "Somehow commen- tutors do not agree with me on this subjeci.”? One of the members of the congregation Was an old farmer, who inade it a point to be always at church on Sanday morn- ings.. As soon as the text was given out, he would settle himself comfortably in his pew aud fall asleep, awaking enerally at the close of the sermon, The old man was present on this occasion, and as ustial had fallen asieep; but a fly chancing to lighton his nose, he awoke and heard the sentence, “Commentators do not agree with me.’? Drowsiness overcame him and he heard no more, The next day, as the minister was busy in his study, there came a Sharp ring at the door-bell, and soon-after.a knock athis door, He opened it, and there stood the old farmer whip in hand. He strode into the study, and seating him- self on apile of manuscripts, which the Rey. Dr. C, had been examining and had placed in his easy chair for fur- ther reference, delivered himself, “Wall, minister, lheard your sarmin yesterday, when you said as how common taters did not agree wilh you; so I said to my wile, ‘its oo bad our minisier can’t have anything better than common taters,’ sol got up early this morning and loaded up my big farni-wagon with the best laters l’ve got, and they are down at the door, mivis- ler, aud there nin’t a common one among them, 60 1 hope you'll accept them.”* The Rey. gentleman did not think it worth while to ex- plain, but took the farmer’s potatoes with many thanks, and the farmer went home with the soothing reflection that he had done the right thing for his minister, H. LA MARQUE. Tricking a Dutchman. young ladies would gladly have given up thetr favorite4 1 Vehicle, The other sentinel, probably a more intelligent and ex- perienced warrior, tustantly exclaimed, with unfeignea astonishment and disgust: “Well, dar, dat's two times dat nigger gib away de countersign dis night. Til port lim to de sergeant ob de guard, sure.’ An Enterprising Fellow. A grizzly-looking man dropped into a drug store the oth- er day, and found the proprietor very busy compounding prescriptions, but he jeft his work and eume forward, in hope of selliug something to the eareworn stranger. The latter leaned over the glass case, to the great perti of the toothbrushes within, aud drawing the druggist’s ear clase to his mouth, whispered, huskily: “Got any Paris green ??? “Yeg.? “Is it solid stuf! that will send a fellow flying across ‘the beautiful, the beautiful river,’ like a duck acress a mili-pond,’! “Yes.” “Well, then, give me five cents worth of gum-dreps.”” The man gave them to him, and continued: “Whatin thunder do you mean by Wasting my time talking about Paris green when you don’t want any ?? “Because lknow some families that are starving to death, life is @ burden to them and I want te see if 1 can’t seli some for you on commission,” Roasting Ears. Schneider, a citizen of Columbia, S. C., but a Dutehman by birth, while engaged mending a shevel, outside his store, Was approached by a little darkey, who asked: “Say, boss, does yer want any roastin ears in dis yer sto’??? The German stopped lis work and gazed aniazed- ly at the vender of green corn, which in darkey lingo is called roasting ears. The litle negro opened his bag, and the storekeeper looked in, expecting to see something be- longing to the animal kingdom—hog’s ears, er something ofthat kind. He was a trifle irritated, as he thought the peddler was endeavoring to fool him, and he exclaimed, “Why, you tem fool, dat ish cornu! If you eomes here again mit your foolishness, 1 smack your fat nose, unt slice off your ears, by gracious.”? Web. S A Twe-Legged Hog. Some years ago there lived in the e:ty of L—— a young married couple who kept a boarditg-house for young men. The lady had had several teeth extracted, aud for some time could eat na&hing hard. At the table there sat by her, on her Jeft, an impertinent young man, who look greatdelight in teasing her about her teeth. The crusts slie placed beside her plate he would take, with fhe remark: ‘““Madam, allow me lo save your tender gums the pain of endeavoring to masticate these.’? Such remarks as these never fuiled to bring the roses to her fair cheeks, He continued to tease her at every opportunity, and one day, as he took her crust, he said to her husband: “Mr. A., you really ought to get your wife some pigs to eat the crusts,’’ ‘Lhe services of a pig are uunecessary,” she an “while 1 have a two-legged hog seated at my able. Not the Same. “Are these soaps all oue scent??? inquired a lady ofa juvenile salesman. “No, maam; they’re all ten cents,’ replied the inno- cent youugster, A Lieutenant Promoted. Kassim Pasha, when Minister of War for Egypt, was very particular with regard to the personal appearance ef his officers, and issued stringent orders tuat they should never appear unshaved In pubijic. One day he met in the street a oe who had “bearded” the Pasha and disregarded his order. “To what regiment do you belong?” demanded the indignant minister, _ ‘To the —~ Regiment at Abassuch,” responded the frightened lieutenant. “Get into my carriage at once, so thatI can carry you te the encampnient, and bave you publicly punished,” was the stern command which followed. The young nan obeyed, and the tiyain rode along gloomily enough tor some time, when the Pasha stupped his carriage and epicred a shop for,aiew mimutes, to make some trifling pur- ehase. Seizing the opportunity, the culprit sprang from the darted into a neighboring barber’s stall, and minus his beard regained his. post before the return of his jailer. For the remainder of tle route the officer buried his fice in his hands and seemed the picture of apprehension, Abassueh was reaehed at last, and all the officers were assembled to witness the degra- dation of their cemrade, whe all the while kept well in the rear of his chief. “Come forward, when there stepped before him an officer with a face as clean as a baby’s, and a look of the most supreme innoeence. His excellency gave one long look of blank astonishment, and then, with an appreciative smile breaking over his war-worn jeatures, turned to the assembled officers and said: “Here, gentlemen, your old minister is a fool, and yeur young lieutenant is a capiain!? .To P. P. CONTRIBUTORS.—Frank S.—If your contribution has not been noted as accepted or declined, it has failed to reagh us, We notice everything received, and usually within three weeks...... Lugene Mortimer.—Shali be pleased to hear fram you. Fancy some lively incident, and then deseribe it humorously, There is no fun in the mere misspelling ot words,.... The follew- MSS. are accepted: ‘Reforming an Tuebriate: ‘A Gurious Qase;’ ‘John’s Frieng ;? ‘A Sorehead;? “Barney’s Wite;? ‘Shady. WaT... 55 The Joliowing are respectfully declined: "The True Story ;’ ‘Bout Somedings;’ ‘A Wise Child;? ‘Not Bad’ ‘Nelly’s Sweetheart;’ ‘Mugby at Dinner.’ Oe The Ladies’ Work-Box, “Mra. R, B. Dodge.”—The fall. catalogue of new patterns al- ready sent yon, contains the latest designs, and in it you will find models which we are sure will please you for your ‘three girls. Still as you so request it, we will describe what we thiik wil be a pretty suitfor each, Serge will be neat for your girl aged eight years. Get both plain and striped in brown a the un- bleached shade, Trim the skirt halt its depth with a bias-cut, gathered flounce, corded a jittle way below its upper edge to jorm a standing ruffle and a group of tiny shirred puffs headed with another ruffle. Have a blouse waist plaited and confin around the waist with a sash of the stripes. Decorate the nee with a large turn-down collar of the tabric, with an inside colle ¢ of white linen. Cut the sleeves coat-shape; putting the patte on the striped cloth so that the stripes may, run bins, and h’ gye a deep cuff, reaching almost to the elbow. | This suit can be 1 jada of seven yurds of 27-inch wide material. To wear with it , you may get a navy blue felt hat, trimmed with ribbon and * give the saine shade, and a few small white flowers. A stylish “walk ing suit for a miss of thirteen may be made of striped jpohate and figured camel’s hair, Scal-brown in mohair, wig dark stripes, will be preity; trim the skirt with groups. of “ narraw flounces, put on almost plain; with pipings of black giik phe loose cout sleeves are to be trimmed to match with a ‘gmail. gulf band heading each fold. (Phe sleeveless polonaise-bar que is much worn by young misses; Jt may be tight-fitting, and 1 rely beund on the Jower edges, which can be scolloped, while « the neck should’ be finished with a full, g: ythered rump ot marrow ‘black lace. “Nine yards 0 mohair. wiil be required, and ‘about two yards of camel’s hairy “calico width: With this suit you can get a brown felt lat, anc, "bing the wide brim with black velvet, and trim with acream ¢odored searf. and a Jarge brown wing. For the young lady, at gsterul and fashion~ able suit, which can be worn out doors, nov ,“and in the sprin: and tor full-dress or house purposes during «pe winter may a made of some of the hair striped silks, wl gen can be bought for~ $la yard.: Haveiaround, French walk’ ag skirt, trimmed apron shape, with bias folds piped on either s* ger and lace matehing the silk in color, or the silk puton in sca ge yuffies ov plaits, Trim: the back breadths on the lower port’ gn with a kilted fluunee bine inches deep, and cover the rest wit! 4 shirred pufis, reaching up to the waist, atid arranged crossw' we While on the right hip you may place.a double bow with iri jeea*out ends, made of rivben, and placed exactly over the dr? pings of a8 eh dt silk, with lace- bordered enus. Make a cuirar ge pasque; rounding in frent, short on the hips, and slightly pot greg at the back. Bdge this with Jace, and trim the neck Por pidour style, with ruffled laee; fin ish at the throat with Vak enciennes lace, fastened with a bright flower or ribbon. ‘Pwen +y yards of silk will make this. suit, and ten yards of ince, Will4yim, Get a white felt hat, and trim it with flesh-ping twilt 4 silk and dark flowers, and the costume will be com, ete, Wer y stylish. “Louise You Caz wear almost any color, if you select the proper tint, and that question you must decide y placing the CgaoY near your face and see that the effect is Noulrabie. Prune, plum colur, and parple are really very trying colors to some com- eygant but pérhaps they may become you. ‘Sucli tints as pale blue, rege colog, the unbleached shade, aud flesh tints, are worn for evsnings, and darker colors for street and visiting; still the rule? may be regulated by the fancy, and one can wear either light, or dark colors at any aud all times without seeming out of pla‘ge or fashion. No; diamonds, mosnics, pearls, and gole jew- elvsyy can be worn with anything, but the col red stones and ¢’gyal must be worn only in appropriate toilets. Your black eash- ADutechman named Solomon Hendricks, who kept a small eandy store, overheard four boys plotting a trick upon him. One of them had atwenty-dollar bill at home,, given to him by an uncle aga birthday present, and ‘ge proposed that on the following day: they should go to the Dutchman’s store, buy five cents’ worth of candy, and present the twenty-dollar bill, which, of course, the Taatch- man could not change. He would then, it was lik ely, re- turn Ute bill, and tell the boys to pay him at s0rae other time, Thus, the boys thought, they would get fae cents’ worth of candy for nothing. The Dutchman winked as he overheard aud comprehended the plot, aad thought, “Ali, I knows a trick better as dot.” The next day the boys came to his sore, bought the candy, and presented the twenty-collar git), expecting the Dutchman to stare in wonder. atil, tnd then return it, Faucy their astonishment and dismay when the cute store- keeper coolly put the bill in his Cyawer, and guve them their change in fifty cent rolls of coppers—-nineteen dol- lars and Dinety-five cents in per gies} F. E. W. Hatching Vslocipedes. Ihave two nephews—0'se three and the other seven years of age. The younger is called Nattie, and is pos- sessed of an inquiring ‘arn of mind. He was presented lately with a duck, au4 his brother already owned a drake. One day, while rum paging about in the woodshed, they came upon three €ggs, which the duck had Jaid under an old velocipede O'wued by my brother. Each child claimed the eggs and &, quarrel ensued, till at last. they referred it Lo the before-mentioned uncle, Not knowing how to de- cide, and heing fond of a joke, he said: “Why, those are velocipede eggs.” Lituls Nattie (who had looked with longing eyes on the vehicxes owned by the boys of the neighborhood) stood a moment in thought, and then said, quickly: “Unele George, you hold them eggs and I'll run over to Mrs. Taylor’s and borrow ahen. ‘Then we'll have them littie velocipedes out in no time.’? STAR. Gave Away the Countersign. The United States Marshal in Jackson, Miss., accompa- nied by I. C. Catchings, Esq., a prominent lawyer of Vicksburg, was “halted”? atten o’clock one night, when about to enter the court-house grounds, by acouple of war-worn, veterans, Who with fixed bayonets, which glis- tened in the moonlight, demanded: ‘Who comes dar??? The marshal explained, but without avail, and was in- formed that he could not enter his office unless he ‘gave de countersign.’? Being somewhat out of patience, he said, rather petulantly: “Well, then, what is the countersign ?”’ Whereupon one of the sentinels very promptly and ac- commodatingly responded: ‘were can be made alter the putters deseribed for “Harrie Al? A basque whieh you may like better is No. 4,154, price 30 cents. This is neatly fitted to the form; the skirt falls eveuly, about the figure, and can be decorated with narrow knife-plaitings, whie raduated bands of silk are arranged on the waist perpendiew arly. If the alpaca is the same color or shade, it does nut matier if the quality differs, Make the basque of the new, and with what you have leit trim your overskirt, usiug the old overskirt trim- mings to add with that now on the skirt. “Nellie Grey.”—See answer to your query concerning al above. For your street sacque use pattern No. 4,145, price 30 cts., which is a handsome French sacque, fitted to the form in the back and loose in front. It may be made of cashmere or drap @ete, and handsomely trimmed with Jace and silk, or passemen- pose Fringe about the edges of such garments is now very ashionable, “Little Brown Seal.°—Yoti éan take your seal-skin jacket to MeCreery’s, corner Eleventh street and ‘Broadway; they will cut it any shape you may desire. Of course, you don’t want to take such a costly article toja house you do not know all abouf. * “Harrie A.”’—Your light felt hat will be very pretty trimmed in seal-brown. Tissue is. almost too delicate for this geason, as the dampness takes all beauty from it. So you had better use silk for trimmings. Artange in a twist, with loops and knots im front, and a jaunty wing on one side. “The cashmere «iress, with siik trimmin wee can make after the following patterns. Cut the skirt by No. 3,900, price 30 cents, and decorate with a deep athered flounce of cashmere, edged both top and bottom with TS ene of silk. Make the overskirt by pattern No, 4,149; price 80 cents. This hasadeep front, while the back edge of each side is shirred quite high by the insertion of several threads, and then overlaps the back breadth, which is draped by tapes underneath, and gathered at its front edges. Border with knite- plaiting of silk, The basque is No, 3,310, price 2 cents. It is plain, short and round. Trim with silken cord, and it you wish other decoration use knife-plaiting of the silk. *Fleda.’—By ali means leave the jet on your dr Those whe have handsome dresses, trimmed with Ser, still wear them, Wear your hair in the Grecian coil. Weean send the braids at all prices irom $5 to $25. No; false liairis just as much in de- mand as ever jt was. Curls, too, are worn, and are arranged in with zt back hair. False frizzes cost from 50 cents to $l a yard, or a pair. “Paulita Watts,”’—It is hard that girls can’t “pop the ques- tion!” Isu’t it? Well, we suggest that you zet somebody else to ask you to marry him, and you Jet the bashful youth hear of it by accident. That will bring him to terms if be 13 in earnest. The stains cannot be removed, The price of the book is $1.7& ‘*Dora.’—Have the material colored dark blue or brown, Make the overcoat and cape without trimming, ouly hem the edges. No, the collars are not worn with the turned away collars on jackets; they are only suitable for blouse-waist and dresses closed attheneck. Atany time you desire information we wiil be pleased to give it. “Bessy F. K.’’—We can get the serpentine corset clasps for rom They cost 25 cents a pair. Send your order directto New York WEEKLY Parchasing Agency. “Oyrilla.’’—The retaining of the ring of your first mamiage ig & mere matter of choice. If you were happy during your wedded life, and wish to recall pleasant recollections, wear yeur old ring beneath the new. A gray silk would be handsome for you, but if on are going to travel any distance on the cars, poplin, camel’s air, or any wool matertul will be most appropriate. A si.k and wool pongee too would be very haudsome. Afelt hat with rib- bon or velvet to match the suit will be seasonable, The Cardinal red and dark blue is much used as trimming, and may be mixed with ecru or lemon color. Drab or brown wings may be added, ; He asked her to dance, but. she declined, £0 surprising “Veto.” No. ie ere an —Try the Homeopathic Dispensary, he might discover whereyie was andergoing his punish- |] himina mannerthat he had mever before perhaps ex-| The marshal repeated the mysterious word, and was “— p weut; Luat she might know whether he was living ordead, | perlenced, Te refuse to dance with him for “kom ower immediately granted permission to proceed to his office, \ —— aN : eS om Ma. % en * aa ¢ \ pl ae = las ied a cluster of flowers. The cashmere lace costs from 50 cts, to$la yard. The wide is ag high as $1.60, ou gon of a dog!” cried the irate Pasha, — wae THE MYSTIC SHORE. BY NATHAN D. URNER. Thought or fancy ceases never, With a thread that naught can sever, Leading me To the sea, To ashore of Destiny, Where the Ocean beats forever, ‘Tis a mystic region, mounded O’er with many graves, and bounded By the sea i And (aa me!) By a fearful, shadowy Realm of joys and woes compounded. Mooonbeams always sadly quiver From the skies, but sunbeams never Touch the waves, » Or the graves, Or the grasses, or the caves, Where the Ocean beats forever. Gliding there, with footfalls fearful, Phantoms stern and phantoms tearfal Make the air With despair Mournful; One alone is fair— - Wondrous fair, and bright, and cheerful, But alisilent. Voices never Moan, nor laugh, nor sigh, nor quiver, Save the flow, To and fro, On the shore, with cadence slow, | Of the ocean waves forever. That.dim shore, with grave-rows serried, Is it there my dead are buried ? Wait in vain, And in pain, On the shore that spectral train? May that sclemn sea be ferrried? Rather, is it Fancy’s creature, Or the half-remembered feature Of a dream, That doth seem fo my soul a feeble gleam From the realm of super-nature? _ I but know it ceases never, ‘With a thread that naught can sever, Leading me To the sea, © - To ashore of Destiny, ° Where the Ocean beats forever. ORIME AND RETRIBUTION. BY LAWRENCE LESLIE. * In the summer of 1808, Colonel Kenyon, a young son of Lord Kenyon, was cruising in a small yacht off the coast of Ireland, when he was overtaken by a sudden storm, the little craft capsized, and all his companions drowned. Colonel Kenyon himself was washed ashore in a half-dy- ing condition, in which state he was discovered by a fish- erman. This man, instead of offering any assistance to the unfortunate colonel, set to work to plunder him. When his unhappy victim. partially revived, the rob- ber struck him over the head’ witha heavy club, fin- ished rifling his person, and left him for dead, The booty obtained from the person of the colonel, and from his baggage which had washed ashore, consisted of some very rare and valuable jewelry, rings, pins, a watch inlaid’ with diamonds, and other rare and costly orna- ments which his fine taste coveted, and great wealth en- abled him to indulge in, besides nearly two hundred pounds in gold. The property secured, and the plun- dered man dead—as he supposed—the would-be mur- derer started, he hardly knew where. Crossing the chan- mel, he went to England, where, it is believed, he had some acquaintances or relatives residing. The colonel lay upon the sands for some hours insensi- ble, but was finally found by an honest laborer, carried to his humble cottage, and carefully nursed back to life, and eventually to perfect health. All efforts to obtain a clew to the discovery of the man who had robbed him were unavailing. A person answering the description was found to have.left the country about the time of the ot- currence, aid it was thought had gone to Engiand,. but nothing more satisfactory could be obtained, and all at- tempts at. detection and pursuit were given up. Colonel Kenyon soon after joined his regiment, served in Europe against Napoleon, and in America under Sir John Ross, distinguished himself at Bladensburg, march- ed through: the streets of burning Washington, and finally after an absence of ten years or more returned to Eng- land.- In the excitements of camp and field, the incident of his life on the Irish coast had been almost forgotten; but thereturn to the old haunts, and the re-moval of old friendships brought back the memory of that event with much distinctness, Late in the afternoon of a day in the autumn of 1808, a rough-looking man clothed in the attire of a fisherman, stopped at alonely innin the north of England, and de- manded lodgings for the night. The proprietor glanced suspiciously at the scantyand threadbare wardrobe of the stranger, and intimated that people kept tavern for money, aid didn’t desire to entertain travelers who were destitute of the wherewithal to liquidate their reckoning. The stranger quickly comprehended the situation, and thrusting his hand into his pocket, brought out a score of glittering gold coins, and remarked to the landlord that he was not only able to pay his bill, but could buy him out every hour in the day, and pay the cash at each pur- chase. At this display of wealth the innkeeper’s eyes sparkled, and the stranger was cordially invited to make the inn his home so long as he found it desirable and convenient, which invitation was promptly accepted. It was soon apparent that the traveler was fond of his cups, and the humor was gratified to its full extent, so that when he re- tired he immediately fel into aheavy slumber, which was not easily disturbed. The sight of the stranger’s gold had fired the cupidity of the innkeeper, and no swoner had the man retired than he began to speculate on the surest and safest means of possessing himself of the go\d. Robbery alone was at- tended with danger, for the plundered victim would un- doubtedly call the authorities to his assistance, and pun- ishment would be almost certain; so acting upon the principle that “dead men tell no taigs,’? he fimally resolved upon murder as well as robbery. His family, which consisted of his wife, and a little daughter but six years old, were requested to retire early, and were soon asleep. A little after midnight he cautiously entered the room where the doomed man was sleeping; but just then the weary traveler turned uneasily, and the assassin crouched tremblingly in the darkness to ayoid exposure. At length all was still again save the heavy breathing of the victim. The innkeeper rose to his feet, moved cautiously to the bedside, and let a few feeble rays from a dark lantern fail upon the sleeping form, that there might be no failure in the stroke, and the knife do its perfect work. The strag- gling rays of light fell upon the hard face of the fisher- man, and he suddenly opened his eyes, caught the gleam of the bright blade as it flashed above him, and a quick, gliarp cry attested the completeness of-his terror. The ry, however, was quickly silenced for the murderous ‘steel was driven to the lieart, and with a few convulsive gasps he expired. His pockets and a bundle which he had carried were quickly emptied of whatever they contained of value, the body wrapped in the bloody bed-clothes, and buried in the yard, and thestains in the room carefully washed away. im the morning he expressed great surprise and indignation at the travelers sudden disappearance, accus- ing him-not only of escaping without the payment of his ill, but also with haviug stolen the bed-clothes, andeven enacted the farce of a pursuit. His wife, however, was not without her suspicions, and when the booty was brought out littie by little, she had no doubt that her fears were well founded, and if hersudden death by poison ans not prevented, sie might have made the crime pub- Cc. The sum secured from the person and effects of the murdered man was over $500 in gold, and rich and rare jewelry worth from five to six hundred pounds more. In 1818, ten years after his mishap. on the coast, Colonel Kenyon returned to England. On one occasion, as he Was traveling through the northern part of the country, and night coming on, he was compelled to seek accommo- dations at a country inn. _He was waited upon by a pleasant, talkative girl, about sixteen years of age, who was dressed with more. neat- mess than usually characterized females of her class. While being served, the colonel noticed a peculiar charm she wore about her neck, and, on obtaining her permission to examine it, he was struck with the greatest astonishment at the discovery that it was one of the jewels of which he had been robbed ten years before, and still had his engraved monogram upon it. His first impulse was to seize it, declare the crime, and demand of whom: she had obtained the stolen property; but he controlled himself and began to joke her about the trinket, saying he supposed it niust have been presented by alover. This she denied, but he appeared unwilling to accept her denial, and finally asked who gave it to her, if not her lover. She replied that it was presented to her by her father many years ago. Colonel Kenyon expressed himself satisfied ane dropped the subject; in fact, however, he was far from being satis- fied, and as soon as the meal was finished he made his Way to the nearest magistrate, and piaced the matter in the hands of the authorities, Early the next morning the sheriff made his appear- ance, and father and daughter were both placed under arrest. A search of the premises brought to light several articles of jewelry which the colonel identified beyond a shadow of doubt. : The innkeeper was then examined, and at first denied all knowledge of the goods, or that he ever gave his daughter the charm which had first attracted Gol. Ken- yon’s attention; but when he learned how fully everything had been identified, he became greatly frightened, and finally confessed the crime, with all the details given . era mmr = —_ above, and the remains of his victim were found as origi- nally buried. The man he had murdered was proved to have been the robber of Col, Kenyon, who was escaping with his booty when retributive justice overtook him in the mauner described. : At his trial the accused reiterated his previous confes- sion, and was convicted and duly executed. A large por- tion of the property was secured to Col. Keuyon, who set- tled one ‘iundred and fifty pounds upon the orphaned daughter of the criminal. T FLE |Wonders of Nature. By Prof. M. Rudolph. OUR FAMILY OF WORLDS—No. 4. In our last we spoke of the daily revolution of the earth onits axis being performed with such extraordinary ac- curacy that it has not varied one hundredth part ofa sec- ond of time in 2000 years. Itis a question of more than ordinary interest, what causes this daily revolution? For there must be some cuuse to produce every effect; and thus we find it throughout all nature—cause every where precedes effect. It has been said, that “When Earth rolled from God’s right hand, The primal impulse then was given,” and that this ‘primal impulse’? has, ever since, kept it thus rolling. But this is the language of poetry, rather than of philosophy. There must be some cause now, to- qay, operating which produces this most wonderful phe- nhomenon—the daily turning over of this huge mass with Such amazing regularity, notwithstanding the seeming lopsided form of the globe from the mighty mountains projecting their yast ranges miles out into empty space. What, then, is the cause of this stupendous result? A theory proposing to explain it has been recently present- ed, which seems at least deserving of careful considera- tion, while it is admitted, it does not meet all the difficul- ties of the case. The theory is this: The cause of the diurnal revolution of our globe is elec- tricity. To illustrate: Take a straight bar of steel and convert it into a permanent magnet, and having brought the ends to a fine point, arrange il in a perpendicular po- sition so that it can revolve with the least possible friction. Then bring a powerful: current Of electricity to bear upon a@ point of the magnet about equally distant from the ex- tremities, and the magnet will commence revolving and continue to revolve as long as the electrical current is flowing. Stop the electric current and the revolution of the magnet stops. This magnetic or electric current rushes from the center to the ends of the magnet, revolv- ing around it as it proceeds. Now it is known that the earth isa great magnet. Electrical or magnetic currents are passing constantly over its surface. These currents Teyolve rapidly around the earth from East to West—the opposite direction in which the giobeis turning. These magnetic streams are produced by the heat of the Sun, and also by the chemical influence of his rays. Now as ‘the solar rays fall most directly upon the equatorial and tropical regions, the heat is greatest there, and conse- quently most electricity is generated there. It must be here understood that the solar rays have immense power to produce electricity. Indeed, any kind of heat, natural or ‘artificial, produces more or less of the magnetic current. This electricity or magnetism generated at the Equator, rushes to the poles of the Earth; not in di- rect or straight lines, but by an infinite number of spiral circles around the earth. These currents never for one moment cease their flow, but night and day alike con- tinue their gyrations around the whole surface of our planet, and with immense velocity ever tending toward the poles. ‘Now, just as the circling currents of electricity around the magnet caused it to revolve with such regu- larity, so, itis affirmed, do the numberless spiral currents of electricity generated by solar heat, cause our globe to turn unceasingly, and with such regularity on its axis. sre then is certainly a subject worthy of further investi- gation. »According to this theory, then, should the Sun cease Shining, the Earth would cease revolving, and the most direful consequences would result. To illustrate: The ocean, now held by the greater centrif- ugal force at the equator at’ an-elevation of thirteen (13) miles above the conmon level, would immediately return to that level on the cessation of this daily revolution, and would instantly sweep with terrific force over vast sections of the Harth, if indeed it did not submerge al but the mountainous regions, and thus the larger part of the hu- man race would be once more destroyed. Again: Should the sun cease shining, there would be at once a suspension of ail those electrical or magnetic forces which now have so much to do with vegetable, and doubtless also with animal, life upon our Planet, and upon ail the other Planets that may be inhabited. If this be the true theory of the diurnal revolution of our globe, it of course will apply to all the other planetary members of our world-family. But we must patiently wait for further’ developments before adopting this as ‘the true philosophy of this daily wonder in nature. While the whole globe daily revolves with such marvel- ous accuracy, all parts of it do not describe circles of equal diameter and circumference, and hence do not revolve with equal rapidity. To illustrate: Take an orange, and at equal distances from the stem and blow end draw around ita line; this will represent the equator of the Karth, and the stem the north pole. Then draw around it three or four parallel lines at about equal distances from each other, between this equator and the pole. It will readily be seen that these circles are not all of equal diameter, nor of the same circumference. Now this orange repre- sents the Earth. The equator is the largest circle on it, and the inliabitants there travel faster in the daily revolu- tion than do those living farther north; because they move through this largest circle in precisely the same ime that the inhabitants further north move through theirs, which are so much smaller. Thus, a resident on the equator would travel about1,040 miles each hour, while another at the mouth of the St. Lawrence would pass over only 450 miles in the same time. Now this will explain why the Stars seem to move with such unequal velocities through the heavens, for it must be understood thatwe moveand not theStars. Thus, those in the northern sky seem to us much slower in their apparent motions than those over the equator. This is because of our part of the Earth moving slower than the Earth does in the equatorial regions. Again: Were we at the north pole, then the Polar Star would be nearly over our heads, and all the Stars would seem to revolve in circles of different diameters around it, If we were on the equator, then the Pole Star would be seen in the horizon, and the Stars on the equator would be directly over our heads. WHY WE HAVE A POLE STAR, Asthe Earth revolves annually around the sun, the axis of our globe maintains constantly the same posi- tion, or nearly so, for several centuries; in other words, it is always parallel to itself, and therefore this axis points in one direction, that is, to the pole of the heavens, which is always that point of the sky that would be pierced by the extension ofthe axisof the Earth. The Star now nearest this pole of the heavens is called the Polar Star; -but this Star is not exactly at the true pole, but about one degree and thirty-three minutes from it in the direction of the pointers, the two outside Stars in the cup of the great Dipper. Hence, it describes a circle around the true pole of three degrees and six minutes diameter. This would make the true pole of the heavens about 18 inches from the so-called Polar Star, measured on the sky toward the two pointers, as stated, inthe great dipper. The Polar Star, therefore, is exactly north only twice in 24 hours, that is when on the meridian above, and on the meridian below the true pole. Surveyors and navigators must therefore carefully take this into account in all their cal- culations, as serious errors may else result. When on the meridian, it is said to south, aterm applied to all the heavenly bodies at the moment of crossing the meridian line. We repeat, at such times only is the Polar Star ex- actly north. The time. of ‘‘sowthing” can generally be learned from a good almanac, and always from the Nauti- cal Almanac, published by our government at Washing- ton. The present Polar Star will approach to within about a half degree or the true pole imthe year 2,095, and then re- cede from it uiMil Lyra, one of the brightest Stars in the northern sky, aiid now seen nearly overhead when on the meridian, will be the Polar Star. But (12,500) twelve thou- sand five hundred years must elapse before the polar cen- ter will have thus changed. This change is owing to the fact ‘that the axis of our globe is not, strictly speaking, always parailel to itself; although it is apparently 80 for several centuries, but is describing a circle in the h&avens; thatis, the end of the Earth’s axis or pole, by meus of a “wabbiing motion”? like that of a top while spinning, is pointing in different directions—just as the axis of tike top wouid if it were ex- tended above the upper part—u‘escribing a circle about 47 degrees in diameter. Hence Lyra, one of the brightest Scers in the northern Sky, and about 40 degrees distant fron? the tail, the pre- sent Polar Star, willin about 12,500 yews be the Polar Star of that age, as already explained. There is a most interesting fact connected With the nine Pyramids of Gizeh in Egypt. On the north sidas of six of these pyramids there are openings extendii’¢ down into the structure, and all of these openings are ac @0 an- gle of 26 degrees, so that an observer at the bottom, ok- ing along the line of these passages out upon the sXy, would, in each instance, see the Star Thuban in the tart of the constellation Draco, or Dragon, which at that date, 2123 before Christ, was the Polar Star. Itis generally upposed that these pyramids were built at that oe Now as stz of these pyramids at that age are so con- structed that this remarkable Star could then be seen ex- actly at the opening of each one of them, it would seem that one object in erecting these wonderful structures was to convey tofuture generations the information that Thu- ban was then—forty centuries ago—the Polar Star. Thu- ban is now about 231-2 degrees from the true pole. It must not be supposed, however, that this Star has changed its place; but, as before stated, the pole of the Earth is describing a circle which requires about 25,000 years to complete it, and as the pole of the heavens must necessarily change with the pole of the earth, Thuban is vant the pole Star, but will be again in about 21,000 years, We cannot but be struck with the evidence of divine wisdom and beneficence in this remarkable arrangement respecting the Stars. But for their apparent fixednesg In Space, no mariner would dare venture out of Sight of land. The compass would be comparatively valueless, for, however steadily it might point to the north, there would be no fixed points in the heavens by which to de- so T termine latitude and longitude, and thus learn where on the Ocean we were, and no one would dare, as now,, to launch out upon the trackless deep without these heav- enly guides, It is not then an accident that these starry worlds are always found in the same place, but a part of the great plan for the convenience and safety of man by his com- passionate Creator, The next article will further discuss our Family of Worlds. —_——--—_ > @-4- THINGS GENERALLY. BY MAX ADELER. WHAT YOUNG MRE. DUNCAN WANTED. — The other day, while Rev. Dr. Potts was sitting in his study, a small boy entered and announced himself as Jimmy Duncan, ascholar in the Sunday-school. When the doctor asked him what he wanted, he said: ‘Doctor, ve been thinking I’d like to do something to earn a living, and I comé round to seeif you could teil me how to go abowt it. They’re awful poor at home, and I thought maybe I'd be able to make some money to help mother get some good clothes and things. So, if you could give me some advice, I’d be much obliged.” “Youre a noble boy, James. Your love for your moth- er does you honor. [see now that the lessons you have received in the Sunday-scheol have sunk deep into your heart.’? . “Yes, sir,’? said Jimmy. “And what kind of business would you like to go into, my man ?—a grocery store, or a drug store?—or would you prefer to enter a lawyer's office and learn to bea lawyer ?)? “7 don’t care for any of them, sir. I want to make money. fast, and 1 thought I would like to become a p.rate, sir.” “Wh-wh-what d’you say? A pirate??? i “Yes sir; and I want to know if you would please give me a letter of introduction to some responsible pirate, recommending me to mnt I've read a good deal about the business, and I know Pil like it; so, if you know any good pirate who’d feel an interest in a boy like me, I'd. try to make niyself useful to him.” “Why, James, I am amazed to hear you talk in sucha manner. Do you know wiiat the business of a pirate con- sists of?” 2 “Oh, yes sir, Of course. He gets on a ship and goes booming around over the Ocean, and when he sees au- other ship he ketches her, and hauls out the passengers, and cuts slits in their throats, and chucks them over- board; and then he goes through their baggage after money, and jewelry, and clot be such a big thing for moth t ’em home those clothes, and ear-rings, and things, and I know I kin cut the prisoners’ throats, for although Pm little, I’ve bought a long-bladed carving-knife so’s I kin reach up.. Look at that, now! Ain’t that the very kind of a knife I want—ain’t it now ?”’ ‘James, I was never so shocked in my life. A. boy brought up in my Own Sunday-school! Are you aware that you would thus shut yourseif out forever from the truths you have learned there, are you aware——”’ “T dunno,”’ said Jimmy; ‘I s’pose pirates have Sunday- schools and family prayers on their ships, don’t they? Anyway, I could show ‘em how to have ’em, And if I can get to be head pirate, and the others wouldn’t agree to hold ’em, do you know what ’d do? Why I'd tie ’em to cannons, and blow ’em up—blow ’em to rags all ever the waters That’s the way l’d serve any,of my pirates that wouldn’t come to the religious services, and I’d have @ minister on board. I tell you, Dr. Potts, you come along with me and preach to the men, while the rest of us kill the people we ketch!” “This ig the most extraordinary occurrence of my whole life,’ exclaimed the doctor, in amazement, “Oh, you needn’t be afraid. Dll protect you with this yer Knife. And I’ll tell yon, doctor, you and we might make a little money selling the dead bodies... The doctors up at the medical college ‘'d buy some. Mr. Maginn, the coroner, I Know ’d be willing to pay to have a corpse or two throwed around in some out of the way place for him to set on, and then any that was left over we could sell to boil down for their fat, and p*’rhaps we might get some- thing for the bones. It always struck me it was a scand’l- ous waste to heave those bodies overboard and let ’em float off for the fishes, now isn’t it?” “Well, upon my word.’ said the doctor, ‘‘this is such depravity as I mever expected to encounter in a mere child.” “And then I was thinking that after we'd got all we wanted, plenty of money and diamonds, and so on, maybe you and me might lay awake some night, and when all the other pirates was asleep we could go around and stab ‘em and take their share of the vaiuadles, and then we could git a kag of powder and blow tlie old ship up and row home in a:boat; and when the people asked us where we got all that money, we could lie about it, and tell ’em that we’d been speculating in stocks, or something like that. And then we could live happily ever afterward. Now would you be willil;, to go into this thing with me, doctor, for halves?’ “You are certainly crazyl’’ “Very well, then; 1 kingoil alone, if you'll give me a letter to some respectable pirate who wants a boy. Please mention about this Knife, and say that I kin hit the jugu- lar vein every time, and am Willing to kill babies while he cuts up the old people’? “You are an inlamous young scoundrel, sirl’’ exclaimed the doctor. ‘‘Leave the room this instant, or Pll have you sent to jail.” “What! won’t help a poor boy to startin the world! Won’t help one of your own scholars! O, very weil, then; Vigo and get the Baptist minister to doit; and mind you, the first time I ketch you sailing out anywhere’s in a boat, I'll stab you the first thing,” Then Mr. Duncan withdrew, and the doctor. began to think of a plan for making tle Sunday-school more effi- cient. PROFESSOR BOTTS’S LECTURE. — The show business, somehow, doés not appear to be very successful in ourtown. One day, last week, Profes- sor Botts, of Baltimore, came there to give a ‘‘Stereopti- con Exhibition and Lecture upon the Holy Land.”? When eer he took his place in front of the screen, and “Ladies and gentlemen: I shall first introduce to you this evening some beautiful pictures of scenes in the Holy Land, which I willaccompany with appropriate remarks, and afterward I willshow on the screen some miscella- neous views of an interesting cliaracter.’’ The first picture was a view of Jerusalem, and it was very fine. After the professor described it, he said: ‘““We will now have a scene on the Sea of Gallilee.*’ The boy behind the scenes must have got the pictures mixed, for he shoved on a view on the Schuyikill canal, with four men in a boat in the foreground playing euchre on the deck, while a negro sawed at a fiddle; and a mule on the tow-path kicked flies off of his side with his near hind leg. But the professor didn’t. look around. He felt certain it was all right, and he sailed ahead. “This body of water, famous in Sacred history, is beau- tifully delineated upon the canvas before you. The Arabs are busy launching their boats preparatory to going fish- ing, and in their wild and picturesque costume you can almost imagine them to be Jews of the time of Isaiah. The animal standing at the right is a camel which comes prebably from Damascus to—— Why, my gracious! that’s not the right picture.” Then the professor darted behind the screen, and we could hear him swearing at the boy. When he came out, he said: “The next picture will represent Moses crossing the Red Sea. You remember the circumstances; how the prophet fled with his people before the hosts of Pharaoh, and how ahi 33 Here the boy glided on a picture of General Washington crossing the Delaware at Trenton in a cocked hat, with ice all around his boat. The audience laughed. Bat the professor was mad, and he made another dash at that boy. We could hear him shaking him up. and Calling him ugly names. And when Botts came out again, he said that things were now so arranged that there would be no fur- ther danger of mistake. “T will now show you a view of Solomon's Temple as it appeared in its original giory. This masterpiece of Jew- ish architecture was probably the most magnificent——” I suppose that boy must have become spiteful, and wanted to annoy the professor, for that very minute he pushed on a view of the Grand Central depot in New York, with a fence alongside displaying an advertisement advising the public to ‘Use Johnson's Stomach Bitters for a tonic. We all thought the professor would lose his reason. He danced around in search of that boy, and banged him with a stick until the audience cried ‘‘Shame!’ and then he kicked the boy out, and brought in one of the door- Keepers to feed the pictures to the machine. Putting in a view of the Dead Sea with his own hands, he came out and begun his lecture again. After finishing with the Dead Sea, he said he would now show the audience a pic- ture of the Death of Absalom, and he called out to the door-Keeper, “Next!” While the man was getting ready, the professor said: “Absalom lost hislife by reason of his hair. In the foreground of the picture you will perceive Absalom in the agonies of death, while the Israelites appear. near to him, watching him, and the beast that he rode is seen escaping in the distance.?? Nobody ever knew how that door-keeper came to do it, but somehow he shoved on a picture of the Kickapoo In- dians scalping a woman, while the other Kickapoos danced around and howled; and the only animal seen in the distance was a buffaio nibbling grass. The audience iNrly roared, and the professor, Kicking his foot through the Calvas screen, and rushing at that door-keeper, ex- claimed: “You insufferable ass! don’t you know the difference between Absalom and a Mormon bishop? You ought to be in a lunatic asylum!”’ Then the door-keeper hit him, and a fight.ensued, from which the professor emerged with a black eye. He was arrested on the spot, and the audience adjourned. He promises to avoid this town in the future. THE JENES MOTOR. — Aman named Jenks came down to our village, some years ago, with a machine which he called ‘The Jenks Motor.” Jenks said that it was the most wonderful dis- covery of theage. He said that the motive power was nothing but water. All you had to do was.to pour a buck- etful of water into the “receiver,” and it was instantiy decomposed into gases, and them the gases started the machine, which, Jenks said, would run from here ‘to Peru with half a pint of water. And Jenks said his little idea in coming to New Castle was to give the people a chance to subscribe to some of the stock of the motor company. ‘hats what I say—itl |. rand the girls for me to send Jonks said he knew he was throwing away his own chances by selling the stock, but he was a philanthropist, and he wanted to give his fellow men an opportunity to go into a big thing. So he set the machine up in an office, which was the only room in the building, so that there would be no chance for fraud, and we all went around to see it work. First he poured some water into the receiver, then he cliucned it up witha kind of arevolving paddle, then he opened the vaives and stamped on the floor, and the crank began to revolve with great rapidity. We all thoughtit was wonderful, and Jenks said that that word didn’t ex- press the ideain full. We examined the machine, and saw that there were neither fire nor chemicals about it, nor any smell of gas; and Jenks said that we must now confess thatit was just about the grandest achievement of the jiuman intellect. Dr. Potts was about to admit the fact when the crank slowed up and we heard a-vehe- ment: “At—schew!’? Apparently the sound came from beneath the floor. It sounded like a man sneezing, but Jenks said it was mere- ly a violent expulsion of gas from the cylinder, and as the crank went ahead again rapidly, we all thought he must be right. A minute later we heard another: “A lt-ali-ah-tschew-w-w!’? And then the machine stopped until it was over. Dr. Potts began to look cross-eyed at Jenks as if he suspected something, but Jenks said it was:one of the peculiar prop- erties of these decomposed gases to push out of thé cylin- der with a violent hissing sound, and, although he had tried to prevent if, he found it to be impossible. Then the machine went on again swiftly, and Jenks was just directing our attention to the pressure guage, which stood at 600 pounds to the square inch, when the machine came to a dead halt, and we heard, evidently in the cellar: “Ah-ah-ah-tschew-ew-ew! head off of me ef I keep on.” Then the crank began to revolve again; and Jenks get- ting very red in the face, said indignanuly: : “Which of you gentleman has been playing a trick on ve by practicing ventriloguism? It. ish’t.vhe square thing. 5 Before anybody could answer we heard another terriffic sneeze in the ceilar accompanied with an exclamation: “Mother of Moses but it bates the divil down yer for keichin’ cowld!l’ The machine came to a dead halt, and presently a square yard of the floor began to bulge up. Directly a human head appeared through the opening and an Irish- man crawled out in'o the room. Jenks looked ready to faint; and the man getting up and brushing the cobwebs off his hat, said: boa ae “Mr. Jinks! it’s meself. that’s just tired of turnin’ that infernal crank down there in that dark hole. ‘The rats is nibblin’ me legs, and it’s so blasted damp that I’m ketci.-_ in’ me death 0’ cowld. I’m goin’ to give up the job.) While he was speaking Dr. Potts discovered a fine wire running from the crank to the cellar and’ hidden by the machiuery. Jenks turned white, and stammered out: . “This is‘painful, gentlemen, very painful. But the fact is I—I—I hadn’t quite got my recéiver to working right, and I wanted—I thought—I—that is I~ Oh, hang it, I’m going to quit.” L Aud Jenks darted through the door and left town. “He didn’t sell any stock in New Castle. — ——__—_—__>0~<____- TO CORRESPONDENTS. Baer GOSSIP WITH. READERS AND CONTRIBUTORS.—. A. C. Gruhly.—ist. The conductor of the Atlantic telegraph | cable is composed of a copper strand of seven wires, six: laid around one. The insulator isfour layers of gutta percha laid on alternately with thinner layers of what is called Chatterton’s com- pound. The outer coat is ten solid wires galvanized, each wire surrounded separately with five strands of white Manila yarn, and the whole laid spirally around the core, which had previously been padded with a servingof tarred hemp. 2d. The “Wonder camera” is something like a magic lantern, with this exception, however, that while in the latter the views must be prepared ex- pressly for it upon glass, any opaque object may be shown by the tormer in the same colors asthe original, such as cartes de visite, flowers, butterflies, shells, coins, etc. We can furnish it for $25, ao 37 3d. Drawing book, $1. 4th. See reply to “J. C. obbs. Geo. A, Richards.—The insurgents being cut off fromthe regu- lar mail facilities, we do not know how you will be able to commu- nicate with your friend. Vivian.—Hon. George S. Boutwell, ex-Secretary of the Treas- ury, is aresident of Groton, Mass, and is fifty-eight years of age. He isa practicing lawyer and has his office in Boston, but he also owns andcarries on a large farm in Groton. Frederick H.—The firemen of New York did give a rich box to Jenny Lind, of pure California gold, in 1850. A rosewood cabinet went withit. The box cost over $300. I, was presented by James W. Faulkner, president of the fire department. Your enly mis- take is regarding the date. Pupil.—Certainly there isa vegetable ivory, and which becomes nearly as hard in time as the tusk of the elephant. The tree pro- ducing it is the most beautiful of all the palm tribe. This vege- table ivory is extensively made into buttons, umbrella-handles and small trinkets, Henrietta W.—Wood engraving is certainly an employment well suited to young women, but you cannot learn the art from books. It demands a long apprenticeship to acquire the busi- ness, and considerable artistic taste. is icago.—Stephen Girard was bornin France. He was first a cabin boy, afterward a sailor, a mate, and finally captain. He was twenty six years old when he settled in Philadelphia, leaving $9.000.000 far philantbrapie purnncas at hiadaoth ——— #. O. J.—Sapphire is the name given to the glassy varieties of the mineral species corundum, which rank as gems, including those of bright bluecolors commonly known as_sapphires—to which the name is usually restricted—those of bright red, termed rubies; the colorless, called white or water sapphire; and those of violet, yellow and green, known respectively as the oriental amethysts, topaz and emeraids. These all consist of nearly pure Surya crystalized, and ranking in hardness next to the dia- mond. Willow Glen.—The drama cannot be procured in printed form. ° K. P. Barkeeper.—Your sleepiness in the morning arises {rom the weariness of the previous long day’s labor and the late hour at which you retire, five hours being insufficient rest for a per- son who labors seventeen out of the twenty-four. As you have no alternative but to get up at five o’clock, the only thing we can suggest is an alarm clock, on hearing which you must instantly arise, or in a short time it will failto awaken you. _ ; W.—Bonanza is a Spanish word adopted by American miners to indicate a valuable vein. ood.—Iist. See ‘‘Knowledge Box.” 2d. A kiss on the forehead indicates a te or reverential affection. 3d. Smoking cannot be said to be beneficial in any case. In nine cases out of ten itis an injurious habit. d ; R. R. A.—ist. “Dashing Charlie” will cost 90 cents. 2d. and 6th. Leon Lewis. 3d. Burke Brentford. 4th and 5th. Names not published. : Querist.—The Begorra but ll sneeze the lay of “Bombastes Furioso’? was. written by Thomas Barnes Rhodes, cashier of the Bank of England. It was his first and only effort at authorship. It was intended as a bur- lesque upon modern tragedies, and was adecided “hit.” “n. M. B.—Of course the Indian women ride “man fashion.” They do not such an article as aside saddle, and indeed the men mostly ride on a blanket only, tied or strapped upon the horse’s back. Nor do they often use stirrups. Victor.—Amadeus is a common name with the House of Sa- voy. The prince of thisname to whom you refer was elected King of Spain in 1870, and abdicated in 1873. The name Amadeus signifies love God. M. Jennings.—ist. A magic lantern would be of no use what- ever to you in learning portrait painting in oil colors. Youcan only perfect yourself in the art threugh instruction at the hands of a competent teacher. 2d. See foot of column. 3d. The Mam- moth Monthly Reader can be furnished from Vol. I, No.1. The first volume for 50 cents, and Vol. I, of which No. 9 has just been issued, for 75 cents for the year. r Miss Nellie F.—We are unable to say, the date not having been John C. Hobbs. —We cannot vouch for the honesty ot business firms in this city or elsewhere. Their rating may be obtainéd on application to a mercantile agency. We have had no dealings with the firm named. Long James.—Wood cuts are usually stored away after use. Cyrilla Hendricks.—\st. There are two lines of steamships to foreign ports from Philadelphia—the American line to Liverpool, and the Red Star line to Antwerp. The steamers of the latter lineleave this port and Philadelphia alternately. 2d. We can- not furnish the translation. A. S. W.—Mile is derived from the Latin mille, a thousand, namely millia passuum, a thousand paces. That is a certain measure of distance, being equal to 320 rods, or 5,280 feet. The deepest sea soundings ever made is about six miles. Edgar S.—Don’t bein a hurry. Remember what Addison says, that the pleasantest part of a man’s li'e is generally that which he passes in courtship, provided his p..:sion be sincere, and the party beloved kind, with discretion. J. H. S.—We have. no means at hand to answer your several ueries, but will give you the signification of severai names. nobia is father’s jewel; Amy, beloved; Blanche, fair; Ida, hap- pines Kathleen, little darling; Theodosia, gift of God; Helen, ight: Ada, happiness; Julia, soft-haired. Herman.—The Appian Way was a road built by Appius Claudius Czcus, leading from Rome, three hundred years betore Christ. It was so well buill that miles of it are extant and ser- vicable to-day, being paved with broad thick flagging stones. 4M, M. C.—We cannot advertise dealers in this department. &. W. A. A.—Most any thriving town restaurant. Business.—If a clerk is faithful aud competent his employer. is not apt to question whether he is a graduate of a commercial col- lege or not. The mere fact, however, that he is a graduate of such institution is a guarantee that he is familiar to a certain extent with the routine of commercial life, and should be capable of filling satisfactorily the position tor which he is an applicant. G. D.—The address is corner of Pearl and Elm streets. Captain.—ist. The U, 8. Military Academy is at West Point, N. Y., and the U. S. Naval Acadeniy at Annapolis, Md. 2d. Ifa mi- nor, you Cannot enlist in the U. S. army without the consent of your parents or guardian. Anxious.—There are a number of hospitals in this city in which certain classes of diseases are treated gratuitously. There are others under the supervision of certain religious denominations in which those of their own denomination are given the prefer- ence, There is also a charity hospital under the control of the municipal authorities. . C. W.—The corner-stone of the Boston State House was laid on the Fourth of July, 1795, with great ceremonies. ‘The original cost of building and land was about one hundred and fifty thous- and dollars, a less sum than its recent repairs have cost. Invalid.—Plenty of air and out-door exercise’ are now recom- mended for patients afflicted with pulmonary complaints. Piy- sicians are beginning to discountenance the practice of sending them to hot-climates. Cod liver oil is universally used. Eleanor.—Kissing was the usuai mode of saiutation in England in former times. When an invited guest entered the house of a friend he invariably kissed the wife and daughter. John Bunyan corroborates this fact by condemning the practice. . S. D.—We are sorry to answer your question in the affirma- tive. The debt of New York city 1s to-day nearly five times that of London, the English capital being about four times as popu- lous as this city. The city debt of Chicago is but $9,000,000. Horace W.—\s it possible that youdo not understand what Evacuation Day is in commemoration of ? On the 25th of No- vember, 1783, the British troops evacuated New York, and Wash- ington made a public and triumphalentry. This is the basis of the annual celebration. . Reader.—The Astor Library contains 148,000 volumes, The col- lection is not to be estimated by its numerical extent, but by the intrinsic value of the books. In this respect it is the first library in the United States. : Ernestine.—The ex-Queen of Spain is still comparatively a young woman, being but forty-five years of age. She does not dare to return to Bee even though her son 1s king, as her pres- ence would be liable to instigate fresh political troubles at Mad- rid. She was married at the age of sixteen. She has led a profligate life. TO PURCHASING AGENCY CORRESPONDENTS. In response to the queries of our correspondents who send no address, we give the prices at which the following articles may be procured through the New YORK WEEKLY Purchasing Agen- cy: ‘‘Hand-book tor Young Artists and Amateurs in Oil Paint- ing,’? $2; “The Art of Portrait Painting in Oil Colors,” 50 cents; nonpariel telegraph apparatus, with book of instructions, $6 50; pair of instruments and batteries, complete, $12; “Black Art,” 40 cents; ‘‘Wandering Jew,” $2 will support a well-kept ETIQUETTE DEPARTMENT. F. W. E.—We consider the lady justified in her treatment of you. Four years ouglit to be sufficient time for a gentleman to find out his own feelings for a lady, and if sincere in his affec- tions, be able to make them plain to her. If she is under the im- pressionethat you do not care for her, she could not be otherwise than formal, or ‘‘cool,’’ as you express it. Bashfut Ben.—When a genteman is introduced toa lady, Ke may say he is happy to have the pleasure of her acquaintance, and shall be pleased to become better acquainted. Almost any pleasant way of showing that the introduction is really a pleas- ure to him, is all that is necessary. Boston.—\ist. You are very young to contemplate matrimony, We would advise you to wait at Jeast five years before taking a wife. A man getting married at nineteen years is entirely too young. 2d. If the young lady truly loves you, she will leave off flirting at your request. rlie.—We quite agree with you. Oftentimes, if men were more free to converse upon business matters with their wives, and not afraid their gentlemen friends would consider them hen- pecked if they listened to, or sometimes acted. upon some sug- gestion made by their wives, they would save themselves, as well as their families, many anxious hours. It is not alwaystor want of manly courage that men. advise with their wives regarding business, but because they have courage to defy public opinion and take counse! from those who have a sincere interest in their welfare. Clara.—You did right in not listening to the scandal your friend wished to confide to you. If every lady would receive in like manner the confidence of people who say such hateful things, they would save much agony. An old and homely saying, yet a true one, is: ‘A dog that will bring a bone will carry one.” The Same is true with people who will say ill-natured things of one person, will as likely say them of another, and we are not aksly to escape the fury oftheir tongues. We find it best to treat such people politely, but say as little as possible when they ate mak- lng complaints of their friends. W. W. W.—\st. When a gentleman calls upon a lacy, he may, upon entering the drawing-room, carry his hat in his hand, but should not place it upon the chairs or parlor table. Every well- bred man knows that a hat may be madea very graceful part of his attire, especially if he Knows how to hold it. 2d. Itis not necessary to ask a gentleman to remove his gloves. 3d. The bride's parents furnish the cards, but the bridegroom may furnish his Visiting-cards, with the bride’s Dame engraved upon them. 4th. It is optional with the lady whether she gives a ring or not. 5th. It is not necessary to always have a ring either as engage- ment or wedding. 6th. Cakes, fruit, coffee and lemonade are quite sufficient refresuments for New Year’s day. Dispense with wines entirely. Jessie.—Perhaps you may not have.a_ pretty face, but that is not the greatest misfortune that might have befallen you. If you have a kind and true heart, a cheerful disposition, anden- deavor by your cheerfulness to make those about you happy, and ave polite and kind to those who are thrown upon your genero- sity, it is of tar more worth than a pretty face, and will gain for youmore true and valuable friends than ifyyou were a pertect Venus in looks and had a sour, sullen disposition. ~ it ¢ A Young Husband.—Now is your time to commence your home as you wish it to 5 amount of your income, and together plan for ils disbursement in the most. satisfactory manner. A certain sum should be set aside for home expenses. Take so much for your own personal expenses, and allow your Wife a similar sum. lf your wifeis young and inexperienced, you must try to be kind and patient with her. Do not become pettish or ill-humored at her Dae She will soon learn to perform her new duties with alacrity an forethought, and perhaps excel older and wiser housekeepers. the company of some other lady, and after a time returning to you, is sufficient proof of his_unstability. He is not worthy 0 such love as you give him, and does not appreciate it. We would suggest that you try and think as little of him as possible. You would never be happy with him. Josh Billings’ Philosophy. | ; TIT BITS. “If we could only learn to forgiy otherieis NaA@ity 9 Mi forgiv ourselfs, one haff the trubbles ov this life would ‘be over. “ Pe ane - Sum people are born just expressly forfools, and if they undertake to be enny thing else they spile. Our habits are stronger than our judgements, or even our pashuns. PO's Si he Itizagrate deal eazier to make a reputashan for our- selfs than it iz to preserve the one we hay got from our ansesstors. ’ * ee git oft ‘edits It iz eazy enuff to gro old, but to groold eazily iz an- other kind ov a job. Ot Be ea esieel 4 Faith, altho it iz one ov, rongest and simplest pashuns ov the heart, when it ig once lost, iz lost forever. What aiis the world most just now iz the grate amount ov uncommon sense thare iz floating around in it. Wounds will heal, but skars won’t. : Thare iz hardly enny man living but what would make a good trade if he could swop off what he knows for sum- thing diffrent. ; Thare iz certain Kinds ov ekonemy ing to straighten krooked pius iz oe ov them Good luk will beat ennything tu this world. ae The only thing that a man Kan do well wheu he izina pashun, iz to fite hornets aud musketoze. Tiare iz only one time im our whole lives when we kan With safety lay aside ourcaushun and be kareless, and that iz when we are fast asleep. When the guilty go free the innocent suffer. I never see a man yet who Waz really in luv who didn’t akt more or less foolish. a ae Thare iz nothing that mankind are so smart at az find- ing a good excuse fur enny ackt they hav made up their Ee ae chien ? HOY le WUSt Kind OV ’ ey _ ds. Good Opporvumiys muse BO aRen the forel0Gk; most people take them bi the tale. — : t He We all komplain ov the shortness ov life, but most folks outlive their usefullness, iter Traitors are treated like oranges, the juice iz squeezed out ov them, and then they are throwed away. — Thare iz no grater evidence oy a weak mind than the inability to amuze or instrukt oneself. ee ; Thare iz lots ov people that i kno kant enjoy ennything fust rate unless it belongs to sum one else. re We Kan neither luv ennything that we fear, nor fear en- -nything that we luv. Ne The luv ov fame iz the same in all, from the little darkey who rides the winning horse, away upto the last sensa- shun in prima donnas. Civilizashun haz not redused the number ov crimes and vices; it no doubt haz made most oy them more orna- mental. ‘ . It iz a very common thing to make a blunder, but it iz a@ very uncommon thing to own it. ta Very literary wimmin are pot apt to be very domestik; they aoe more about Homer than they do about hash or the baby. . I ye hay cum akrost @ man yet who didn’t think he waz superior to enny man living in sum respekt. Thare iz folks who Kant bear to do ennything unless thare iz a profiitt in it; if they subskribe a thousand dol- lars for the heathen they want 10 per cent, thrown off for cash down. Sum must hay everything they uze red hot, and well spiced, even their religion must bubble, and bile or they Kant enjoy it. Men who hav but one thing to reckomend them soon play out; fiddling on one string iz dredphull funny for a Yung man, if yu doubt the propriety ov a thing it iz all- wuss safe to give yure judgment the benefit ov the doubt. If yu expekt to git thru this world without being cen- sured and abuzed, yuhav got to take a bak road, and travel bi moonlite. People who blo their own horn never play but one tune on it, and the world soon tires ov hearing that. Wisdum that we git {rom our own experiense costs us a hundred cents on a dollar; we kan learn from others at haif price. Thorough neatness allwuss haz sum other virtew to keep it company. I never knu a bizzy-boddy yet who spent hiz timea hunting for good news. : Revenge iz no viktory; it is like killing a hornet after he haz stung yu. It iz safer to guess than it iz to prophesy, and it iz fall az Certain. Look out for the man who iz humble when thare iz no purtikular cauze for humility, he iz either setting a trap or baiting one. Honesty and capasity areso congenial that they allwuss ought to be found together, but it iz too true that they all- Wuss ain’t. The most phoolish thing that enny man ever undertook waz to be revenged upon the world; if the world haz neg- lekted us, the only wiz: way lo git even iz to neglekt the world. - Wit iz like luy in one respekt—eazier felt than de- skribed. I notiss one thing, the more leisure people hav, the less time they spend in improving themselfs. A man aint entitled to enuy more kredit for having a great pedigree than he iz for haying cauglt the meazies, he kant tell why. Ifa man really deserves fame he needn’t hunt for it, it will huut for him. ; Error iz a grate deal wuss than ignoranse—it iz mutch better to kno nothing than to kno what aint so. Thare iz nothing that mankind are so unwilling to give up aZ their superstishuns. It aint so mutch the lak Ov ability az it iz the lak ov grip, that ails mankind. Adversity may ruin a man, but it givs him a chance to die game. Thare are sum people who are the lords and masters ov their munny, but most people are the servants ov it. No man ever yet sailed under false colors but what he had to strike them sooner or later. > o~< Historical Items. QUEEN. VicTORIA was the first person in England to wear a dress made of Honiton lace. It is said that commiser- ating the condition of the lace-workers of Devonshire, and wish- ing to bring their manufactures into notice, she ordered her wed- ding-dress, which cost £1,000, to be made of this material. Her example was followed by two of her daughters and the Princess of Wales, and Honiton lace has continued to be fashionable and expensive. In making it the designs, which often consist of sim- ple sprigs, are formed separately and then attached to the ground. The Honiton guipure has an original character, almost unique, and is said to surpass in richness and perfection any lace of the same kind made in Belgium, JOHN JAY, of this State, was one of the most ac- tive men of the Revolution. At 30 he was a conspicuous mem- ber of the Continental Congress, and wrote the address to the people of Great Britain. At 32 he dratted the constitution of New York, and was appointed chief justice of the State. At 33 he was president of the Continental Congress. At 37, he, with Adams and Laurens, signed the treaty of peace. At44 he was appoint- ed chief justice. At 56 he retired from public life. Various flags were used in the beginning of the American Revolution. The first armed vessels commissioned by Washington sailed under the pine-tree flag, a white flag bearing a green pine-tree. The first republican flag unfurled in the South- ern States, blue with a white crescent in the upper corner next to the staff, was designed by Colonel William Moultrie, of Charles- ton, at the request-of the Council of Safety, and was hoisted on the fortifications of that city in September, 1775. Tell your wife as nearly as possible the . Maggie.—We' quite approve of your father’s opposition. The young man is evidently fickle, or else he does not care for you. . The fact of his keeping company with you and leaving you for — 3 that don’t pay; trie- *