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f ^, Th« Frl«Dcl of Agei Mgo, ** Bbould ftuld Acqu&iiitance be forgot T' â€" YeB, if >ou'd just. UH Ut)f as uot. J â€" Jo?in P«tti. There aru sovura) thiiiKH that trouble ouo'b ace, And work fur a man much woe. Bach aa fjoul- and dutibtâ€" debts that will run, And rhjuiB that will not llow. But when all has bcuu Baid, do we Dot uioit dread, Of the inanjr bore* that we know, Th>«t tibiquitoiiB ban. tho woinaa or man, That kuow ouu " ages ago ?' Id voudiâ€" you were youn^ ; and toolish per napa ; You Mined with biRb and with low. Had one lovo un the hill, tind one duwD by the niilt Yet m*v r wtTO wicked, ah, no ! Aod tbifl fri-tid knuw you in a far-away way, lu a way that wua only bo, k4 - Just HuouKh to (iivo hue to the cry about you " Ob, I kuuw him age« 1^0 \" You are niarriM now and quite circumspect, Your tiaee. like your Bpeech, is Blow, You tell in itbank, keep silent io church Are oue it it proper to know ; Hut tbiH viKiiant friend will never conseut 1 bat yotir virtue* tiiichallcnt*od sha)] ko - Thoufjli ti\w ntver deiiiurB, but only avers That she kuew you " a^us ago." And Bure I am that if ever I win To the place where I b<jpe to go - To Bit amo f; Baintsâ€" perhaps tho cliief â€" In raiujuiit an wtiitu as huow, Before uie and buBV among the bk'Bt I'erliapH in the belf-»ame row 1 shall hud my ban. this womau or man, Who kuew me " ages ago." Aud shall h*>ar the voice I bo oft have beard- l)o you think it is aweet and low V As it whiBperff iitil] with accent Khrill The rvfrahi that bu well I kuow ; " Oh. you nurdn't be aettinu mut-h store by him, Thin new aiiKelB not much of a show, lie may f(H>l acme saint wlio isn't actjuaiotâ€" I$ul I kuew him ' ages agu 1' " What«Ter Is-ls Heat. 1 know an my life Rrows older, And Uiiue eyt-u baye clearer siKbt. Thai ubdtir racb rank wrong soiuewbore There lies 'bo root of right ; That each Borrow has its purpose, liy the Borrowing ott unguessed ; Itut aH hure as th*i suu brings morning, Whatever isâ€" is best. 1 know that each Hinful action. As sure as night brings uhade, !â-  somewhere, some time punished Though the hour bo lung delayed. I kuow ttiat the houI is aided bumetiuiefl by the heart's uurost, And 10 grow means otteu to suUer, itut whatever isâ€" is beat. I know there Is no error In the great supernal plan. And all tliingH work together K'lr the thial good of mau. And I knnw when my soul hivcds onward lu Its grand eternal quest. X BbN.Ii cry as I look back earthward, •â-  Whatever is -is best." SHIRLEY ROSS : A Story of Woman's Faithfulness. It was s weary time (or all, this loni; itragKla betweea life and death. Sir Uugb'B oonmiiution waa naturally a itrong one, or he would have Hucoumbed lonK before, and hiH frame offered a deaperate reeietancc to the inroada of disease. Neither Mr. Litton no/ the priuon siir^feon Kavo any hope, or had any (ear â€" iiinuo by far the greatest mercy to liim would be death â€" that ho would recover ; but there was an acknow- ledged dread in their mindu that he mi^ht liniter on until ihe seasionB, aud so stand his trial. Khirloy had no such dread ; she â- eemed certain that he would <lie before the time appointed for the next Hessions, and that he would pass on to that higher judgment which can never err. bir IIut{h Ulynn's arrest and imprison- ment cauded a K''*^'^' oicitoment in the fashionable world ~a (arKreaterexoitument indeed than his supposed mitrder had caused. The whole story was so romantic and myeteriouB, so many rumors wore afloat about tho stranf^e circumstances of his marrisfje and the reason of the nn- fortanate valet's power over him, that the sensational papers reaped u splendid har- vest aud their (:'>ntributor8 were at no loss for matter. Hardly a day passed but some ni!W ami utarilin^ facts, facts which bad but very Hli,{ht foundation, were br(>U|>ht ti) lii{ht, ami Lady Oynn's beauty aud Kraoe aud strange diaappearanco and straii|{or reappearance were widely commen- ted upon. It inii;ht have troubled Shirley had she read all these thrilling paragraphs ; but she never glanced at a newspaper dur- iug these ait<l itays. Her whole thoughts were given to the dying man dying with such a stain upon a naiiiu which had been honored ; dying, the last representative of an ancient and noble family, in a prison- cell I Uut, grott as the excitement was in the great wurlil, it was hardly greater than Lady linutwell's sorrow at the thought that hIiu hud been indirectly the means of Bir Hugh's arrest. At flrst her knowledge of the circuinstancoHof Hhirley's marriage and of Latreille's part therein had made her uriHpect that the latter know more of the murder than had transpired. There had been no niention of his name at (iuy'a trial; but, after Major Htiiart s ac(juittal, which had incensed Alice, who ttrmly believed him guilty, she had set the cleverest deteotivua to work to discover Latreille's whereabouts. That ho was an aocninpllce was not impossible, she thought ; she knew him as a daring and un- scrupulous man, and she felt sure that if ho could bu (uiiiid he would throw some light upon the subject. Uow tho detectives Buciteedad she now knew ; they had thought to find Latreille when Bir Hugh gave him- self up as lliH murderer, and Quy's inno- cence was clearly proved. Alice WAS almost despairing when the tid- ings reached her. Hhe had in ed Hir Uugh Olynn as well as it was possible for her to love any one, and she had hated (liiy as his murderer with a bitter, vindictive hatred. That Hhirley who, after all, had done her cousin no wrong should sufler, troubled her little ; and even at the time of the murder her sorrow at Bir Hugh's fate had been greatly lessened by the thought that the death Bhciiild bo atoned for. But now, when all hsd come to light, the wretched woman saw huw greatly mistaken she bad been, and huw cruelly she had wronged Major Hiuart and Shirley, and she saw in the full light of day into what a fatal abyss her jealousy o< Rhirley had plunged her, and her grief was very profound. The thought of Bir Uugh dying n a prison haunted her day and night ; and even a letter which, at her husband's re- quest, Bhirloy wrote to her gave her but lltlle consdlation. In a few gently worded earnest lines Lady Olynn begged her, in her husband's name and her own, not to regret what she had done, for it had been Bir Uagh's fixed intention to give himself up to jostioe. She was in no way to blame, and ibe mast not blame herself for a mo- ment. Bir nogb was quite at peace, the note said, and they sometimes talked of the old days at Fairholme Court. And the letter closed with an earnest entreaty for forgiveness for the shame which be brought upon all those in any way connected with him, and with every kind wish for her happiness and her husband's. Alice read it with floods of bitter repen- tant tears, and her agitation and excite- ment were such that they brought on an attack of low fever. As soon as she was convalescent Lord Kastwell took her abroad, and the illness was the beginning of a happier life for him, for his imperious wife grjw gentler and humbler and her suffering did not bear only bitter fruit, but the flowers of charity and gentleness and patience bloomed in her heart. At EsKlon the strange revelation was read with mingled feelings, and Lucie Grey now the happy wife of her father's curate, an earnest single-minded young clergyman of good means who worked as a labor of love hastened to Erindale to Bhirley. Ada was abroad with her bua- baud; but it was very pleasant to Bhirley to renew her old friendship with thoae who had been so good to her in her misery, who had seemed then to be her only (rienas. Bo the days became weeks, and February set in, cold and snowy. In March the â- egaions would come round ; but before March another visitant came to the quiet cell, a visitant the shadow of whose wings had hovered long above it. It was drawing near the hour for Shirley's daily visit, and the fire was burning cheer- ily in the grate. Guy Btuart was sitting by the bed on which Hugh lay dressed he always insisted on being dreseed, although the process was a slow and exhausting one. He was raised upon pillows, and breahting with great difficulty, and the dews of a great agony were upon his brow ; but he was easier now, although the last paroxysms of coughing had been terrible, aud had shaken him with horrible violence, and he was but half conacions for a time. I'resently he turned his languid eyes upon Guy, and a little gleam like smile lighted them for a momentâ€" lighted them, then faded. " It iu almost her time, is it not?" he said feebly. " Yes, dear old fellow, only a few mo- ments more." " It will be the last lime, Guy. Nay, don't look so grieved, old friend. Why shoold yon? It is better as it is. Lift me a little- I can talk more easily so; 1 have something to say to you before she comes." Guy raised him gently, with all a woman's tenderness in his strong hands, and as he did so Hugh's blue eyes went to his face with a look of grateful affection. " Dear Guy," he said unsteadily, "how good yau have been to me all my life long ! 1 won't say anything more about forgive- ness, old friend, because yon have proved how completely you have forgiven. Let me tell you rather what visions I have seen ; what dreams I have dreamed, while I have been lying sleepless hero.' Uia weak hands clasped the strong llngurs more closely, his eyes, with tho same fond gratitude, rested still upon his friend's face; but (iuy's own eyes grew V'.ry dim and his lips iiuivercd as he listened. " I have siin in the future, Guy," he said softly, "a happy home brightened by mutual love and joy and peace, a home which I am not (orgotti^n, but where I am re- membered somi'tiines with compassion and pity ah, don't interrupt me, Ouy ! Is it not bt tter to be remembered thus than to be recalled with execration, which I merited ? I see in this home, old friend, two persons whom I have wronged, oh, so crnefly, but whom through all my madness I have loved and honored, aud I see them perfectly happy in their mutual love and perfect trust I I see the husband he has your face, Guy strong, brave and true, loving and protecting, striving, by a tender- ness which never swerves or falters, to make his wife forget the misery she has suffered through me, I see tho wifeâ€"she has a face whose lovelineas made me mad onco, old fellow loving and honoring, trusting and looking up to a man worthy of all her tenderncis, and making the nun- shine of hia homo and of his life. It ia such a pleasant picture that I e^liould liko to linger over it, Ciuy ; but -I dare noil" " Hugh, dear old friend, cease," OuyH»id gently, the tcitrs standing in his gray eyes, his lipx c|uivering almost beyond the power of speech. "Is not the picture pleasant in youreyoa, Guy?"ask(^i the dying man, conijuering his dithculty of breathing and of ultcrauci^ in his deaire to continue. "Or arc your eyei) so dim with watching in this little room that they cannot see it V Let mo go on, Guy; and do not grieve so bitterly. Can't you guesa the pleasure these <lreams have given me? I see, tuo, in that happy home, a pale young mother lying with a child in hi^r arms, who is your sou, Guy," he roMumed after a moment's pause. "I seiM he Ktatoly old house bright with rest- less little children, whose swift feet scamper down the galleries, and whoao sweet gay voices echo through tho old rooms, tilling them with mirth and laugh- ter. Guy, aoinetimea in the old days, be- fore this heavy trouble came upon ua, I used to think that it Heaven had given us a little child things might have been different; but, oh, how thankful I am now thatâ€"" His voice failed him, and he sunk back upon the pillows. There was a lontj sil- ence, broken only by his struggling breath- ing, before he spoke again, " Will my dreams be realized, Guy?" he said wistfully. " Hugh, dear old fellowl" was all Ouy could say, as ho lifted his head for a moment and looked at him. " You love bur still, old friend?" " As I have always loved her." " That is well. And she loves you ; you will be very happy." "1 will do my best," Guy said tromu- lonsly ; and a faint glad smile parted the pale lips. There was something inexprssaibly pathetic and tonching in the thought of the dying man thus planning a life of happiness for those whom ho had so cruelly wronged. Btrong man as he was, Guy Btuart had some diffioulty in restraining his tears. " It is almost time now 7" mormnred Bir Hugh, reatleaaly, after a few moments. " Bhe ia not late. Gay ?" " Noâ€" oh, no! She is never , late. Ongh." " Never late 1" he repeated softly. " No, Heaven blcra her." Almost as the words passed his lips the door opened softly, and Bhirley entered. She was very pale, paler even than her wont, Mr. Litton had told her how near the end was; but there was a steady bright- ness in the eyes which went so earnestly to the pale face on the pillows, and which saw tho sodden wonderful brightnuas which came o\er it as Bir Hugh's dying ga/.e dwelt upon her. "Dear Hugh" â€" there was an infinite tenderness in the swuet voice as she bent over himâ€" "how is it with you?" " It is well, my darling," he answered, softly, weakly lifting her hand tohis lips iu his usual careea of tender greeting, while his wife touched bis brow with her lips, aud felt, with a quick pang, how icy cold it was already. "Bee what I have brought you!" she said cheerfully. "Are not these lovely, Hugh?" They were some fragrant hot-house flowers, and they seemed to Hugh Olynn to bring some of the freshness and beauty of the earth which he would never see again. His eyes rested on them with a groat sad- ness and an intenae longing. "They are lovely," he aaid, "and so aweet !" Bhe held them up to him, and be inhaled their fragrance and touched them with his languid fingers tenderly, almost aa if they had been living and could feel his touch. Bhirley watched him with quivering lips. "Madgie sent them, Hugh, with her love," she said. •'I)id8he? That was good of her, the pretty child ! Bhe is like a flower herself, a bonny English rose. The time has seem- ed long, Bhirley," he went on wistfully, looking at her. " Have you been waiting, Hugh?" she aaid sorrowfully. " I am always waiting for you, Bhirley." Bhe bent over him tenderly, putting back with gentle hand bis hair from his damp brow. " I will not leavo yon again, Hugh," she whispered ; and a wonderful brightness came over his face. " s it indeed so?" be said eagerly. " You may stay with me?" " Yes; they have given me leavo." " -Vb !" There was a alight pause; then he added softly, "I understand I" Bhe smoothed bis pillows, making him easier in his rest, and, having given him something to moisten the parched lipa, she sat down by him where his eyea oouid reat npon her. " Do not go, Gay,"hewhispered presently, when Major Btuart made a movement to depart. "Stay with naâ€" we need yon." And Gay stayed. The minutes went by and grew into hours in the little whitewashed room, where it grew dark so early, and the dying eyes rarely left Shirley's face, except to rest for a moment upon the flowers. " I am glad 1 saw her once," he said, struggling againat the increasing weaknesa. " Bhe will make Jack happy." " Vea, dear Hugh." " 1 am glad 1 had an opportunity of thanking her for her goodness to you, Khirlby," he murmured. "Heaven bless her for itâ€" .lack's pietty little sweet, heart!" After that there was a long silence, dur- ing which Hugh lay back with closed eyes, tha ashy-gray pallor deepening, and the shadows darkening round his lips. " You are not suffering, Hugh ?" Bhirley whispered once. " No, darling," he answered, opening his eyes and letting them reat upon her with iiietTable love. "1 am past all sutTuring now." "And and you are not afraid?" " Afraid? No, my dearest. I am so tired ; aud the thought of rest is so gritte. ful to me. 1 feel as if I were travelling to meet a friend, Bhirley, and as if I were footsore and weary after the long aud dreary road ; but the end is so near now â€" the journey ia almost done." He slept for a little, aud, when he next spoke, the short rest aeemed to have re- freshed him, for his voice was a trille stronger, and not so husky. " There ia one thing, Uu , I want to say to you," he xaid earnestly bo earnestly that Bhirley's eyes filled. "It has been on my lipa ao often ; but somehow things seem to drift away from me, aud I forget. Ouy, will you I am leaving all my cares to you, dear fellow will you see if there ia any one belonging to that poor fellow to whom you can make any poor atonement?" " I will makeevory poaaible search, Hugh. Trust me." " Thank.you, old friend. I do not think there is anything else," he said wearily. " And notliinij troubles me now," he added, in a moment, " but the remembrance of the pain I have given you, my darling." " Do not let that trouble you, Hugh; fcr'gi't it now, even as I have," she said earnestly. " I cannot forget it, dear," hemurmorod, with the same weariness. " It is always present with mu present with me oftouer than the look on that poor fellow's dead face which haunted me so terribly at first." "Uugh, will you not try to think of other things now?" ahe whistiered tremu- louoly- " 1 will think â€" as I have thought ao often of late, my dearest of tho visions I have seen- the visions of which I have told Guy, and of which he will speak to you some day." Ho looked at his friend for a moment with a grateful smiling regard; then ho turned hia face toward Bhirley, and she rested her head on the pillow beside his. The end was drawing near now. Pre. seiitly tho doctor came. He stayed a few moments, and administered a reatorative which leaaened the dOiculty of breathing; and Bir Hugh thanked him faintly fur all his kindneas and patience ere he wont away again. lu the atone passage withoat he mot Captain Graham coming toward him. 'â-  It is a question of minutes now," said the surgeon, iu answer to the queationing look " He has not half an hour to live." " How does she bear it?" " Bravely. I think her face looks tho face of an angel just now." Hia face touched with a deep compassion, the governor passed ou, and entered the oell. Hugh glancod at him with startled eyes ; he was lying now with his head sup- ported On Shirley's arm, and his band closed anoonscioasly over her fingers aa Captain Graham entered. " You will not take her away ?" he aaid, with pale lipa. "No â€" oh, no!" was the immediate an- swer. " Thank yon. You have been very good tome. Will you take my hand?" loatantly Captain Graham took the proffered fingers in a friendly clasp. Sir Hugh smiled faintly, thanked him again, and then turned once more to his wife. The Governor of Adinbrooke Castle had seen and would probably see many sad sights in the years he had spent or would spend within the walls of the old prison. He had seen agony and woe and defiance and terror, but he bad seen no sight which had touched him so deeply as this ; no scene had ever passed before hia eyes so full of sad significance and pathos, and a niiat came between him and the group by the bed on which the firelight fell, toaohing Bir Hugh's face as he lay back upon the pillows, and lingering on the soft folds of Bhirley's velvet dress and on her bent, un- covered head, while Guy knelt in the shadow, and the fragrance from thebright- hued flowers rose sweetly upon the air. Captain Graham was not an impression- able man, but to him in after-years as well as to Guy the scent of Etephanotis or a glimpae of its white starry blossoms always brought back that scene. I'resently, when the governor bad left them, the chaplain of the prison entered, a gentle white-haired clergyman, a fitting bearer of the Master's message to the sin- sick souls among whom he labored so [>atiently and untiringly. As he stood by Shirley's side, he put hia hand upon her head with a murmured blesssing. He knew all her atory ; for he had been constantly with Hugh during the past three weeka, and the latter had received his ministrations with gratitude and earnest penitence. He greeted him now with a smile and a few murmured words of thanks; then hia eyea came back to reat onco more on Bhirley's beloved face, never to leave it again. It was an evidence of Bir Hugh'a deep penitence and humiliation that all this time he had never called Shirley by the name of wife ; nor had he kissed the sweet tender lips which had spoken only worda of gentleness to him since that Christmas night. He was not worthy, he felt with bitter pain; and sometimes, when she bent over him to put her lips to his brow, he shrunk from her as if the touch brought Eaio. But now, as his weakness increased e moved his bead feebly, ao that it should rest upon her breast ; and ahe supported him with unfailing gentleness. " Do you suffer, Hugh?" " No, my dearest." His voice was so low and faint now that only she, quite close to him as ahe waa, could bear the words, and, as ahe bent over him again, the clear ailvery tones of her voice reached hia failing senses, and the peaceful expression grew upon hia face. She was repeating to him softly the words of Him who was giving her comfort now in this dread hour, the words of the Great Physician who came not to those who were whole, but the ailing aud sick-laden and weary, whose hands were waiting even then to open the prison doors that were never to be barred again, whose death bad paid all ransom due. No sweeter, truer death- bed inesaago was ever given ; and even the old clergyman felt his eyea fill with tears at the perfect faith and trust and love which the words evinced. And the shadow of the hovering wings drew nearer and nearer as each minute went by. "Shirley!" The heavy bead resting upon her bosom lay kt ill and helpless now ; only the great eyes raised to his face, aud never moving thence, gave token that he lived. " Yea, dear Hugh." "The end is drawing nearer; it ia very dark, is it not?" " Evening is coming on, dear." " I can hardly see your dear face, Bhirley. My darling, I never dared to hope that such happiness as this should be mine- that 1 should die in your arms." " You are happy, llugh?" " Quite happy." The words parted the pale lips, but were uttered with ditViouIty ; the failing eyes never moved from her face, so full of com- passion and teuderest pity. " la Ouy there?" ho murmured, after a minute'a silence. " Yea, Hugh--yos, dear fellow! What can I do for yon?" " Do you remember some lines we read together long ago and liked â€" some lines from Bintram about death? Yon will not have forgotten ; Uoy, let me hear them uew." There was a momentary pause aa Guy recalled the words, and with them the place where he had read them tirstâ€" Uugh Glynn's luxurious college rooms, with their books and flowers aod the open piano at which Uugh had been sitting when Guy first read the words. " Hove â€"you forgotten, Guy ?" "No, dear Hugh." And softly and clearly Guy repeated the lines : " When death ia couUdr near, Aud thy tieart ahrluks with fear, Aud tliy lilulia (all, Ttieii raise thy liarida and pray To Hlui who auuiuttia tlie way Tbroutjb ilie dark vale. Boeat thou the eastern 'dawn, Huar'at then lu itie red muru Tim atiRet'fl aou^? Oh, lift tlijr (iro puiRheod, Thuu whu IU glouoi and dread, Uast laiu BO luug I " Duatli comes to aet thee free. Oh, lUAtit tniii oiiuerily Aa ihy true friuud. Aud all ihy (ears shall ceoa And itietwriial peace Thy puuancQ endl" The death-dews were gathering upon Hugh Glynn's forehead; the dying eyes, almust blind, almost uraeeing now, still looked upward at Shirley's face. "Bhirloy, my friend-has oome; will youâ€" this once, my darling ? It will be tho first â€" and the lastâ€" time." Bhe understood him, and, stooping in- stantly, put her lips to his in one long last kiss, Wben she raised her head there waa a smile upon bis face which lingered there. "Hughâ€" oh, Hugh!" But even her voice had no power to oall him back from the goal whioh be had reached. As their lips had met the over- shadowing wings had touched him, hia head fell back, his eyes closed. He had come to the ei.d of tho journey. In the whitewashed prison cell, with Uowers on hia breast, and a laint smile upon hii lips, the erring, ainf ul wanderer lay at reat. • • • • So it happened that the aeaaational news- papers never reported the trial to which they had looked forward so eagerly, aod only a quiet little paragraph appeared announcing Sir Hugh Olyun's dsath in Adinbrooke Caatle, and making public hia confession of the crime which he had com- mitted, and for which his suffering mast have atoued in the eyes of his fellow. men. He had stood at no earthly tribunal, no earthly judge had summed up the partica- lars of hia crime; but to the Judge who is all-merciful, alMuving, those who mourned him moat deeply left him, with contrite and grateful hearts. • • * . The June roses had bloomed and faded and summer had twice succeeded summer before Guy Stuart came back from a tour abroad, the beginning of which had been taken up with researches for any kindred or relatives of the unfortunate man who had met his death on the rocks at Eaaton. Every effort had failed, and therefore even the poor atonement of gifts and money was impodsible ; so Ouy, having discharged his duty, pudhed onward in his travels, biding his time as patiently as he might until he could return to England and ask the woman he loved ao dearly to crown his life with the light and glory of her love- iTu be ooDtmaea. I D.\NGEK IN JG.^TinU HERRIES. Seeds itnd PIU tTlileh Often Produce Fliyalcttl Allmenttt. Can people swallow the seeds and pits of fruit with impunity ? It i^ a topic that may be more important than others of more apparant weight. The slightest amount of physiological knowledge might be supposed to bar the swallowing of cherry stonea, yet a young woman died in this neighborhood the other day from peritonitis caused by such indulgence. This violent form of seed swallowing, however, may be considered as a little apart from tbe real ini)uiry, since it is not exactly common, though doubtless much sickness and not a few casualties are cauaed by it. But what of smaller seed- swallowing? The country has been startled by the prostration of Congressman Randall, and it seems to be proved that the disaster was, at least in pan, occasioned by Mr. Kandall's over-indulgence in berries in his particular body condition- Doctors tell as that tbe commgn physical trouble under which Mr. liandall labors is always more noticeable in berry season than at other times of tbe year, the seeds being the aggravating influence. It ia not the size of these foreign substances that is the consideration, but their bulk when swallowed in quantity. One would hesitate about swallowing the small handful of pits contained in a mod- erate bunch of grapes (they make quite a formidable showing) yet they are, all the same, awallowed in eating the grapes, and posaibly pack iu the atomaoh or bowela, an entirely iudigeatible mass of woody fibre- As to yet smaller seeds the process is pre- cisely similar, depending only on the quan- tity of such food oaten. The seeds of black- berries are enormous in size and (|uantity compared with the pulp, and in eating a comfortably large saucerful of this fruit one swallows the etjuivalent in seeds of those of a large portion of grapes, or of a number uf cherry stones. But are we then to bar small fruit aa a diet ? Scarcely, but more prudence can be exercised. They should be eaten in moderation, early iu the day rather than at night, and with the greateat caution, if at all, by persons iu the physical condition of Mr. Kaudall. Tbe rejoinder may bu made that this stony dis- sipation has been going on for ages; so it has, and much mischief must have marched hand iu hand with it. It is clear, at least, that persons with impaired alimeutary organa should make the works of those parts as easy as pussible, and not load them with quantilirauf foreign indigestible matter.â€" iVcu' York Kvt'ninij Telegram. He Wsa L'uae>iualut«<l With Hlatory. A good many years ago a Bcotchman and an Englishman fell into a warm dispute about the privileges resulting to each coun- try from the I'liion, tach of them dNesting bis own country entirely of any share of them. .\t length tho Scot safely obaerved that if the English had no advantage by the Union why were they so forward in promoting it, and why were the Boots so backward to agree to it ? " Why, air, as to the former, because it freed them from the devaatations coiumitled by their plun- dering parties; and, as to tho latter, be- oauae it deprived them of tho rich booties which they received from England at the expiration of every temporary truce." " Ay, ay, was that tho way ? I did not Lnowâ€" I'm unacquainted with biatory ; but what the d 1 had tho Engliah ado but to wear them back?" " Why, air, at a fair engagement, in open war, they never could stand us ; but, having their own mountains and foreals ao near for a safe retreat, it was impossible to prevent their plundering parties from committing fre- (jnent depredations." " Ay, ay, I did not know these things," said the Scot, " and were the English too hard for tbei^i at a fair engagement?' "Indeed, sir, they were. The best and bravest of tbe Scota allowed of that." " .\y, ay, I'm unac- quainted with history, but it is believed to have been otburwise where I live." "Where," said tho Englishman, "do yoti live?" "At Bannockburn!" "Uemâ€" " Not another word ensued. The subjeok entirely dropped, and the shrewd Caledo- nian sat squirting in the tire as if he meant nothing by the answer. A Nursery Varu Kefuted. A little girl catne to her grandfather the other day with a tumble weighing on her mind. "Auntie says the moon's made of green cheese, and I don't believe it." •Don't you believe it? Why not?" "Be- cause I've been looking in tbe Bible, aud found out that the moon is not made of green cheese, for the moon was made before the cows." Wifeâ€" John, I had a fearful tall this moruiug. Husband â€" How waa that ? " I waa going down the cellar stairway" â€" " And I s'pose you slipped and fell ?" " Yes." " Well, you'll have to be more careful I just paid Sl'2 to have the stairway paiutea and if you keep on you'll have it al aoratched aud dinged."