* . - ' / - • ' . / . . 1 ' ' " ' : • ' ' . 3. TAN SLYKE, Editor * Paklhriwr if-rtlENRY. ILLINOIS MISS EDITS BECOMES MEIGH- 4 f l f i f f . ; BOBLT. * j v . - • ' "tfelrirl lives on I % m--if you want to--come, qnick'. There's no one but me in the house and thr cook --but she's only a stick. Dori t try the front way. but come over the fence --through the window--that's how, Don't mind the big dog - he won't bite yon--just see him oWv me!--there now! " What's your name? 'MaryEBen?' How f ua- ny. Mine s Edith--it a nicer, you see, Sot yours does for you, fbr vou're plainer, though may IK- you're gooder than ne. For Jack says I'm sometimes a devil, but Jack, of all folk's, needn't talk, For he once called our seamstrew an 4 aaeeV--no wonder ma said she must walk! "Come in. It's quite dark in the parlor, and sister will keep the blinds down. Jnat because her complexion is awful--like yours though it isn't so brown. «B Jack says that isn't the reason: she Kln> to ,̂} ait here with J irn More. Dojyou think that he meant that she jrinsoil him? ; - , Would you--if your lips wasn't aunb "H you like, you can try oar piano. 'Taint ours. A man. left it here To rent by the month, butmammlinyi he hasn't ' been paid in a year. Sister plays. Oh, such fine variations! Why, ° once heard a gentleman say She didn't mind that for the notes; deal! it,only was just in her way! 1 * Ain't I funny ? And yet it's the queerest of *> all, that whatever I say ©fce-half of the folks die aria aching, and the rest they all look t'other way. And some say 'That child!' Do they ever say that to such people as you? Though maybe you're naturally silly, and that makes yourjfres so askew! *' Now hash! Don't you dare to be crying! Just - as sure as you live, if you do #- * I'll call up my big dog to bite you, and I'll make . my papa kill you, too! « And then where 11 you be? Then , - - - - - 80 play pretty. Ihere s my doll and a nice piece of cake. *0® don t want it--you think it is poison! T > >> u I! eat it, j us^ for your sakeI" --Bret jtfarte, in ticribner's Monthly. BE THAT OSE. IN one of the quiet towns of New Hampshire, a group of fine-looking people were gathered on a vine-embow ered porch of a modest little house one bright autumn evening, bidding good bye to the eldest son, a tall, handsome young man of eighteen, who was just starting for Boston to take a position as salesman in a large wholesale house of which his uncle was one of the pro- }>rietors. The faces of the family group ooked bright and happy, with one ex ception. They were all saying pleas ant things to Charley, the favorite of the family, and joking him in various ways." The father said, "Small wages at first, my boy, but before many years we shall expect to see you one of Bos ton's grand aristocrats, doing a large business, living in a fine mansion on one of the avenues, and having plenty of money for yourself and a few thou sands to send back to the old folks." Then Jennie, only two years younger than Charlie, who had depended upon him for her escort, and who was as de voted to him as he had been to her, threw her arm about his neck, and, kissing him, said, although her tears seemed welling up even then,* "I'm not going to cry, Charley, but it is so much harder to let you go than I thought it would be. I must say that, anyway, but Til keep my promise, and \ look bright until after you are gone." Charley whispered some appreciative word in her ear, and then said aloud, " You remember what I told you, Jen nie, that as soon as I got a little ahead I should send you the money to come down and make me a visit, and, as I'm determined to do my best, it may be but a few months before I greet you at the Hub and show you all the wonder ful sights there." . Just then little Ruth came bounding up the gravel walk, with her hands full of flowers, looking herself, with her beautiful blue eyes, and light, flaxen hair flying in the wind, the sweetest bud of them all. " Now," she said, as she stood in front of Charley, " I've just brought these for my own dear brother, and they are all from Ruth's little garden, and you must take them away qff on the cars with you. And here is one," picking up a white rose bud and holding it in her dainty little fingers, while with her head tipped on <M»e side, and a roguish look in her Jaughing eye, she said, " that you can where in your button-hole when you go to see the young ladies." "Tut, tut," said her brother, "none of that now. What do you know about my going to see young ladies? You're getting along too fast for a four-year- old." ~ &Q they chatted merrily together as they sat in their pretty wicker-chairs, waiting for the stage-coach which \tfould carry Charley to the railroad station, fifteen miles distant. Mrs. McAlpine had been sitting with them, but her heart had been slowly coming up into her throat, as she looked at her boy, the pride of her heart, and began to realize that this first parting would be no doubt the beginning of the break ing up of the family, and site could not tott^question within herself, ".Will my boy ever be nay boy to me again; as trusting, as loving, as near to me as now?" _ , While she thought thus, the tears came into her eyes, and sht quickly re tired unobserved into the sitting-room. The offer from the Boston uncle had seemed a fine opening for their son, but the thought of his going into the city to live, to be beset with tempta tions of every kind, had kept Mrs. Mc- Alpine awake for many nights, and had been the cause of many sincere and heartfelt prayers. Mrs. McAlpine was a Bostonian by birth, and an accomplished, elegant woman, whose circle of friends there •was of the highestjn social ranks, and yet torho, unlike her, were not religious, but worldly, fashionable people. When she wias quite young she had come to Claremont to pay a visit to her grand mother, and while there had met Mr. Mc Alpine, a quiet, refined, Christian gen tleman, several years her senior, who two years after this visit became her husband and brought her to this little town to live. But she had lived long enough in the city, and had in her fa ther's family seen enough of the results of city life in the dissipated characters j of her two brothers, to appreciate fully J ativ<j of Mrs. , , what a conflict her boy must pass through | been in the employ of the concern for if he escaped unscathed. She felt she must say a few words more to him alone, and so, stepping to the porch, she called him into the sitting-room and closed the door. She sat down near him, and, in her quiet way, in a low, sweet voice opened her heart to h|m. She said: " Charley, you have been a dear, good son to me, and have generally meant, I think, to do about right, and, so far as I know, you have no bad hab- its. But you are not a Christian, and I cannot but feel anxious about you, as you start off alone to live where you will have no mother or father to coun sel with, and where you will be obliged constantly to choose between two paths, the right and the wrong one, and where the temptations will be strong to choose the latter. You have noticed, some times, Charley, that these small trees that stand near the house, and are pro tected by it, often weather through a severe, stormy winter, while many of the larger ones which stand off alone, looking, in their strength, as if they were equal to any combat with the ele ments, are maimed and shattered, if not wholly ruined, by the fierce winds that blow. It seems to me that young men are much like these trees. Those who stand by themselves, exposed to the blasts of temptation, who look strong and seem to possess principles which cannot be shaken, are oft-times the first to yield to it, are brpken in health and character, and'ruined; while those who still have the kindly home protection, and feel the shelter ing love of a fond mother's heart, weather the storms, and at last stand upright and unharmed in the beautiful symmetry-of their characters. 41 have hfeard it said that nine boys out of ten, who go from sweet, pure country homes to the city, are led away by temptations. Many of them do not go far astray, perhaps, but only one out of the ten keeps himself 'unspotted from the world.' Charley, I want my boy to be that one. When you meet those who smoke or chew and are in vited to join with them, when all the others about you participate, do not be ashamed to stand up for your princi ples, and be thai one in ten. When your companions ask you into some ho tel, or high-toned restaurant, or re spectable arug-store, for a glass, and, if you refuse to go, taunt and jeer you, telling you you'll be more of a man one of these (jays, and get over these 'goody' ways, do not swerve from the right, and if you are the only one in ten that dares to do right, and dares to be true, Charley, be that one. And when cards, and theater-going, and places of worse evil are suggested to you, and you sometimes feelTiow much easier it would,be to go in with the other boys and do as they do, than; to fight it out so every day, remember this talk to-night, and although "you may be the only one who tries or is able to re sist, I beg of you, for mother's sake, and for your sake, be that one." As the stage was just then hoard rumbling up the street, Mrs. McAlpine E>ut her arms about his neck and kissed lim fondly, as JUe yfeplied, "I'll re member all you've said, mother, and will try to be that one, and come back as 1 go." ^ The stage stopped at the gate, while one of the men came in and carried out the trunk packed full of neat clothing and many pretty, dainty and useful ar ticles to adorn Charley's room, which had been so cheerfully made by mother and Nellie. Then with fervent good byes, said over and over again by most Of the home group, and a warm pres sure of the hand by his mother, who stood there with melting eye and heart too full to speak, for The heart feels most when the lips move not. And the eye speaks the gentle good-by, t Charley jumped into the coach, Mid amid the shouting of the "children, and the waving of handkerchiefs, and the shrill voice of little Ruth as she called out, "Don't stay long; come back soon to your own little Ruthy, and don't for get the button-hole bouquet and the young ladies. Ha, ha, ha, that was a good joke, wasn't itP" the coach rat tled away down the lovely valley, brightened at that hour by the glorious sunset light, and made more beautiful by the varying shades and tints reflect ed upon the mountain sides. It seemed too bad to go from such beautiful, peaceful scenes to the noise and tumult of a large, close city. But the cities would be far worse places than they are, were it not for the country ele ment, the men and women whose early lives were spent in the country, and who amid the crime and wickedness in cities have not lost the principles of right, and truth, and honesty, and jus tice, which were inculcated in their youthful minds. So in the 'erowd of strangers who next morning arrived in Boston was Charles McAipine, as handsome, as genial and intelligent a boy of eighteen as you often meet. He found his way to his uncle's warehouse and counting- room, not far from Fanueil Hall, and was cordially received by those in his employ at the office, and seated with the morning paper in hand, awaiting the arrival of his uncle, who drove in from Brookline at a later hour each day. Charley had not seen his uncle, Mr. Talcott, for many years, but felt at home immediately, after the cordial greeting he received from his genial, fine-looking relative. His uncle told him he could busy himself looking about that part of the city, ahd going through the warehouse, and at three o'clock they would drive out together to Brookline, where they would be hap py to have him pass the night, and the next day he could go to his boarding- place in the city, and begin work in earnest. The evening was passed delightfully the e l egan t home o f h i s unc le , and the next day Charley went with the bookkeeper and head-salesman to a neat boarding-house, kept by two maiden sisters on Somerset street. His experience in a hardware store in Claremont prepared him to take hold intelligently in this mammoth estab lishment of Talcott, Tower & Co., and before the week was ofit his uncle saw that Charley would soon take an im portant position there, if he held out as be promised. The head-salesman was a distant rel- Talcott, and, as he had six years, he began to havo serious hopes of soon becoming one of the part ners. His father was ready to give him §10,000 at any time when tnere was a good opening for him to go in with the senior members, and regard ing himself as almost invaluable to the concern, he hoped by the new year/ now eight months distant, that pro posals would be made to him, and he should send to his father in Vermont for his check to that amount. But a salesman of fine appearance and gentlemanly bearing, a quick ac countant, a good talker, and a popular fellow--desirable as aill these qualities are, yet after all they are not the essen tial ones. Careful business men are more anxious to obtain for their em ploy those who are thoroughly upright ana honest; as interested in the busi ness of the firm as if it were their own; careful in all their accounts, and thor oughly trustworthy. These qualities Mr. Davenport did not possess. Since joining a club of young men, two years after coming to the city, he had gradu ally become broad-minded, as he termed it. He became a member of one of the musical societies, which always re hearsed their music Sabbath evenings, and often gave concerts on that holy day. His most intimate friends were soon those who disregarded the Sabbath, who thought preaching and attendance at church old fogy customs, which were fast giving way to the more en lightened idea that Sunday was a day for rest and pleasure, for visiting friends, driving out on the road, at tending cultured gatherings, listening to classic music, and so on, and so on, and he wondered how he could have enjoyed so long the simpler ways, and quiet peaceful Sabbaths in New En gland. He had become addicted to the almost constant use of tobacco, and was a noted wine-drinker, card-player and attendant at the theater. Yet he thought these bad habits were not known to his employers, and sometimes argued to himself when conscious that his term of service there would not be long-continued if the firm knew his habits: " Well, they could not dispense with me anyway. I know more about cer tain branches of business now than either of them, and thev think too much of the almighty dollar to drop me when they know _ as well as I they would lose thousands of dollars by so doing." But business men are not as dull as they sometimes seem, and generally know much more of the time, charac ter and habits of their clerks than these clerks themselves suppose. Charley McAlpine, thrown into the society of Mr. Davenport from the first, soon be gan to feel the necessity of standing up for his principles. And, when he re fused attending the theater with his companion, or having " a quiet game of cards," Mr. Davenport vjoulasay, " Well, Charley, I won't urge you 'if you do not think it right. But you'll soon get over these notions. I had the same when 1 came to the city, but you'll grow broader-minded here and soon go in for a good time with the best ot us." But, as Charley became better ac quainted, he found that nearly all of the young men about were of the same class, ana he had to " fight it out on his line" alone against them all very often. He was jeered, and taunted, and urged, and entreated to join with them, and give up his old-fashioned puritanical notions, and their argu ments would sometimes almost pre vail, and Charley Would feel, " Now, I could go with them to some extent, and not be harmed, and why not do it? I am so tired of this constant fight with them, and it is so much easier to give way a little than .to keep as strict as mother wishes I would. Maybe I am old-fogyish and our folks too nar row minded." And yet, as he sat there alone in his room in the moonlight arguing thus, his mother's sweet, earnest face came before him, and he heard her kind voice saying, " If you are the only one that dares to do right, Charley, be that <me," and his arguments fell to the ground; he knew mother's way was the right way, aud he said, aloud, "Moth er, 1 will be that one." But the battle was not over yet. Ah, mothers little know the temptations that surround and often inclose their boys, as they leave their pure, sweet, Christian homes and go out and mingle with the wicked and godless, in the great cities. Few escape the toils that are laid for them on every hand. But thank the Lord that some can fight it through, and come off unspotted ahd untarnished. Thank the Lord fOr faith ful and kind fathers and mothers, who are not too timid to talk with their sons freely on all these things; whose influ- ence'will never be forgotten. During this first year in the city, there were many times when Charley McAlpine was on the point of yielding to strong temptations. Once he stood before the door of a theater, with some companions, who had almost tempted him to go in, when his mother's words, "Charley, be thai one,"" sounded so plain ly in his ears, that he was almost start led, and, turning suddenly to his compan ion, he said, "1 can't.go with you," and was off and around the corner in a moment. Many times those few kind words, and the image cf his mother's face, as she said, with pride in her look, " Though only ono in ten does right, I want my boy to be that cfne," had held him and kept him, when, as he often said afterward, he didn't be lieve anything elsie could have saved him, the temptations were so* strong. He grew in the esteem of his employ ers every day, and thev trusted and confideain him about many matters which were known only to the firm. After these first struggles, which had been conquered, temptations were fewer and easier to resist, and before the year was out Charley's reputation was es tablished, and the boys would say when speaking of him, "He's like adamant, and you can't move him, and he'll and entertainments, and began to spend a moderate sum of money each month in valuable books, instead of amuse ments and dissipation, and often told his companions that he knew he en joyed his evenings better than they did. He had access to fine society, which stimulated him to improve all his tal ents, and make himself a peer of those with whom he associated. Ten years have passed sinoe then. Mr. Davenport, years since, was made conscious that his services were no longer needed in the business of Tal cott, Tower & Co., and he therefore ac cepted a position as cashier in one of the city banks. He had grown more and more dissipated, had gone from bad to worse, and the last that was heard of him was that he had absconded with a hundred thousand dollars of the funds of the bank in his pocket. Mr. Tower, who was in ill-health, and had been spending a winter in Italy, died recently in Florence, and young Mr. McAlpine, the rising man, " who could be trusted anywhere and every time," whose neat, attractive personal appearance was but an index of his pure, clean heart and life, was admitted to the firm on an equal foot ing with the two remaining partners. He is soon to be married to a lovely, educated, Christian girl, connected with one of the finest families in the city, who had many admirers among those rich in this world's goods, but whose heart was attracted toward something better and nobler, which she found in the bearing and charaoter of Mr. McAlpine. Charley had spent many vacations in the sweet, quiet home in New Hamp shire, and while there just after being admitted to the firm, he said one even ing as he sat alone with his mother on that same vine-covered porch, from whence he had started ten years pre vious for his new life in the city: " Mother, do you remember our con versation the night I left home, when you called me into the sitting-room, just before the stage arrivedP I felt that you believed in me, mother, that night, as I never felt it before, and I have never forgotten your words, nor your proud, yet anxious look as you said, • Though you find but one in ten that dares do right, Charley, I want my boy to be that one.' Those words have been a talisman to me through all these years, and I feel that I owe to you all that I am to-day."--Chicago Standard. v Woman's Rights in AnelentEgypU WE are not perhaps accustomed to think of ancient Egypt as a very ad vanced and liberal country. It is cer tain, however, that ladies had no cause to make one of the complaints which is so often heard in modern England. Women not only might hold property, but they /iften absorbed all the wealth of their/ husbands. There is in the Egyptian Museum of the Louvre a col lection of legal documents from the time of Alexander the Great to the twentieth year of Ptolemy Energetes. These documents, which are family contracts, wills, deeds, and so forth, have lately been deciphered by M. Re- villout. He has traced legal existence of several generations, and thrown gfreat, perhaps unexpected, light on the history of female property. It seems that husbands always ceded all their wealth, real and personal, to their wives,_ who disposed of it in turn to the children of the marriage or neph ews. A widow was thus left in a com fortable and even commanding posi tion. Let us take the case of Patma, who, on his marriage with a lady named Taouteru, made her a bridal gift, per haps answering to the " morning gift" of the Germans and the Hindoo gift by the nuptial fire. He also promised to make laoutem a small yearly allow ance, on the security of his property. Three years later we find poor Patma deep in his wife's debt, ana he prom ises to yield up all he has if he has not cleared himself in three years. A later papyrus shows that Patma had to sell all his possessions, which are care fully inventoried, and that he satisfied the claims of his wife at this alarm ing sacrifice. Examples of this kind are common. Husbands were ruthless ly " sold out," and property was con centrated in female hands. The hus band, poor fellow, often inserted a clause in the marriage contract, by which he stipulated that his wife should maintain him in his old age. Dior- dorus Siculus, we believe, mentioned these facts, but it was supposed that it was only Diordorus' fun; a mere trav eler's tale. The new papyri demon strate beyond all doubt that man has often been, in times past, a wronged and submissive being.--London Week. Youths' Department. M1LTIADES 8H0W8 HIS COUSIN "A NEW KIND OF SWING." Miss MUSLIN, while down in*the kitchen one day, And watching with great admiration the Way In which, at the table, Abiathar Ann Would roll ont and fashion a " gingerbread- man," Heard Miltiades calling; and yet, looking oat, "6 vp&r nowndre in thooih gnwid ill about. "Why, Miltiades-dear me! Where an an?" wild she. " Here I am," cried Miltiades. " Here, up a tree T And, sure enough, looking straight up overhead. There Miltiades was--" up in a tree, aa he aaid. (Juite a way from the ground, firmly perched on a limb 80 stout twould have held up a dozen of him. Why. cried she in distress, "pray, how did you get there?" " Never mind," replied he, with mvsterious air. m«y be 1 climbed up; it may be 1 jlew; But 111 tell you, my dear, what I want yon to do. 80 ootto the^oodshed, aa sly ael you (Without saving a word to Abiathar Ann), And yonU find there a clothes-line, which, if yon ...will bring, I'll show you, directly, a new kind of swing. And, while you re about it, stop on the wayback And get, pao. that long pole that John Henry Jack Keeps! to pick apple* with. It will answer, I hope, Aa a means to reach op here one end of the rope." 80 *** «*•»* PComotiMM, And, tinding'the clothes-line and pole as he aaid. She quickly returned and by means of the latter. By standing on tip-toe ('twas no easy matter!) She held up the end of the rope so tSat he Could reach down and (ret it from up in the tree. Then she stood there impatiently, wishing she knew Just ^hat 'twas that her cousin intended to do. But he seemed by no means in such a hurry aa - «A<?did. Having gotten the ropw, h« quite «»©l!y proceeded iomake a noose in it, and (still in no haste) Deliberately imswed it about his own waist. Next, carefully dropping his knife to the ground. He instructed MissMuwn that, having unwound iknough of the line, she should cut it off short. Tie the end round her waist, and walk oil till " taut." twas' "There," at length mid Mltiades, "that is all right! •T7„ Now, Just hang back upon it with all of your might And walk slowly this way, by which means-- don't you see?-- Yon will l* t me down easily ont of the tree." 80 say in i|. without more ado, he let go, While Miss Muslin began walking up very alow. But she, pretty soon, found heraelf going some what faster Than she wanted to go; for our hero surpassed her Very much, an may well be imagined, in weight. And began coming down at a marvelous rate. , Presently, all at onoe, lo! onr heroine found That her feet, as she ran, were scaroe touching the gmnnd; And thin -horrors!--she felt henelf caught From the earth altogether (the rope was too short!). And, the next instant, there she was tlowly ascending, Giving vent ail the while to screams really heart rending . meeting ner consul in mid-air, (the clung To hint wildly--and then, both together, th hunr* «y Till, meeting her cousin in mid-air, she cl .g Some six feet from the ground, trying in vain to get free, As fanny a night as one often may aee. At least so I'm sure thought Abiathar Ann, Who laughed from the door-step until the tears ran. "Well!" she cried, when at length she had helped them down, " that's v Aoase verj much like the ' Kilkenny Cats'! ) Pray, how did you mange to get up ther&f" 'Why," Said Miltiades, Slaving a very deep sigh, " 1 was showing my cousin a new kind of twin a. But I can't say I think very much of the thingr --John^Brotcnjohn, in October Wid+Ateatt. meet everv argument, and beat you ev ery time;" ana those who were the most honest would say, " Well, he's a splen did fellow, I tell you, and will get anead of any of us. I just wish I had been as brave as he is; but it's awful hard to re form now." Charley became a member of two delightful literary circles, and attended many scientific aud literary lectures Influence of Newspapers. A SCHOOL-TEACHER, who had been engaged a long time in his profession, ana witnessed the influence of a news paper upon the minds of family and children, writes as follows: ,-I have found it to be a universal fact, without exception, that scholars of both sexes and all ages, who have access to news papers at home, when compared with those who have not, are: 1. Better readers, excellent in pro nunciation, and consequently read more understandingly. 2. They are better spellers, and de fine words with ease and accuracy. 3. They obtain practical knowledge of geography in about half the time it requires of others, as the newspapers have made them acquainted with the location of important places, of Na tions, their government and doings on the globe. 4. They are better grammarians, for, having become so familiar with every variety of style in the newspaper, from the commonplaced advertisement to the finished aud classical oration of the statesmen, they more readily compre hend tho meaning of the text, and con stantly analyze its construction with accuracy. 5. Those young men who have for years been readera of newspapers are always taking the lead in debating so cieties, exhibiting a more extensive knowledge, a greater variety of sub jects, ana expressing their views with greater fluency, clearness and correct ness." --Green folks. pairs -- young unmarried PARLOB MAGIC. THIS series of experiments is de signed for the use of young people who are interested in the wonders and the beautiful realities of Nature, and who delight to observe for themselves how curious are the phenomena revealed by scientific knowledge. Simple instruc tions are given for the performance of a number of petty experiments, all of wnich are perfectly safe, and cost very little money. For "evenings at home,'*' it is hoped that these experiments will be found indefinitely amusing and rec reative, at the same time that, they will lead the minds of boys and girls to in quire into the entire fabric of thegrand sciences which explains the principles on which they are founded. All the materials spoken of, and all the need ful apparatus, which is of the simplest and most inexpensive kind, can be ob tained at a good chemist's. It is of the highest importance that all the materi als be pure and good. PAliLOK SUNSHINE. Obtain a yard of " magnesium tape" or " magnesium wire," sold very cheap by most druggists. Cut a length of six 01* eight inches; bend one extremity so as to get a good hold of it with a pair of forceps, or even a pair of ordinary scissors, or attach it to the end of a stick or wire. Then hold the piece of magnesium vertically in a strong flame, such as that of a candle, and in a fev^seconds it will ignite, burning with the splendor of sunshine, and making night seem noonday. As the burning proceeds, a quantity of white powder is formed. This is pure mag nesia. While performing this splendid experiment, the room should be dark ened. CADAVEROUS FACES. This is an amusing contrast to the lighting-up by means of magnesium; Again let the room be nearly darkened. Put about a tea-cupful of spirits of wine in a strong common dish or saucer, and place the dish in the middle of the table. Let every one approach to the distance of about a yard. Then ignite the spirit with a match. It will burn with a peculiar yellowish-blue flame, and in the light of this the human coun tenances, and all objects of similar color, lose their natural tint, a»d look spectral. The contrast of the wan and gnostly hue with the smiling lips and white teeth of those who look on, is most amusing. The effect of this ex periment is neightened by dissolving some common table-salt in the spirit, and still further by putting into it a small quantitv of saffron. Let the spirit burn itself away. THE BREATH OF LIFE. Procure a tolerably large bell-glass, such as is used for covering clocks and ornaments upon the mantel-piece. It should not be less than eighteen inches high, and eight or nine inches in diam eter. Provide also a common dish, sufficiently large to allow tho bell-glass to stand well within its raised border. Then procure two little wax candles, three or four inches in length, and stand each in a little bottle or other temporary candlestick. Place them in the center of the dish and light the wicks. Then pour water into the dish to the depth of nearly an inch, and fin ish by placing the beil over the candles, which of course are then closely shut in. For a few minutes all goes on properly. The flames burn steadily, and seein to laugh at the idea of theiir being about to die. But, presently]^ they become faint--first one, then thfe other; the luster and the size of thj - flames dimmish rapidly, and then them go out. This is because the burninflfe^ candles consumed all the oxygen thai was contained within the volume of at* mosphere that was in the bell, and wer0 unable, on account of the water, to gefe new supplies from outside. It ilffi&P': trates, in the most perfect manner, omfef*; own need of constant supplies of gootj-' fresh air. Xhe experiment may be im. proved, or at all events varied, by usin candles of different lengths. ROSE-COLOR PRODUCED FROM GREE Obtain a small quantity of roseine one of the wonderful products obtaine _ from gas-tar, and emploved extensive^ ly in producing what are called by mani ufacturers the "magenta colors.1 * Roseine exists in the shape of minut#' crystals, resembling those of sugari«>. They are hard and dry, and of the mosfc^,.: brilliant emerald green. Drop fiW ojp£ six of these little crystals into a larg* glass of limpid water. They will disfP solve; but instead of giving a green soiN-, lution, the product is an exquisite crimes* son rose color, the color seeming trickle from the surface of the wate: downward. When the solution h proceeded for a short time, stir th water with a glass rod, and the uncol , ored portion of it will become carmine, i THE MAGIC APERTURE. Put several lighted candles upon tho table, in a straight row and near to gether. Lay upon the table, in front of them, a large piece of smooth, whito paper. Have readv a piece of paste board, large enough to conceal the can* dies, with a small hole cut in it abovo the middle. Place this, so as to stand, upon its edge between the row of can dles and the sheet of paper in front, and there will be as many images of flames thrown through the hole and upon the paper as thine are burning candles. a GREEN FIRE. ' Obtain some boracic acid, mix it well with a small quantity of spirits of wine, or alcohol, place the alcohol in a sau cer upon a dish, and then ignite it with a match. The flame will be a beauti ful green. To see the eolor to perfec tion, of course, the room should be somewhat darkened. A green flame may also be produced by using chloride of copper instead of boracic acid. And instead of mixing it with the alcohol, a small quantity may be imbedded in the wick of a can- dle.--LeoH. Qrindon, in St. Nicholas for October. Dent Go Without a Bri41e»L. "DON'T.go without a bridle, boyi," was my grandfather's favorite bit of advice. Do you suppose we were all team sters, or horse jockeys? No such thing. If he heard one cursing and swear ing, or given to much vain and fool ish talk, " that man has lost his bridle," he would say. Without a bridle, the tongue, though a, little member, " boasted great wings." It is " an unruly evil, full of deadly poison." Put a bridle on and it is one of the best servants the body and soul have. " I will keep my mouth with a bridle," said King David, and we cannot do better ^han follow his example. When my grandfather saw a man drinking or carousing, or a boy spend ing all his money for cakes and sweets, "poor fellow," he would say, "he's left off his bridle." The appetite needs reining; let it loose, and it will run you to gluttony, drunkenness, and all sorts of disorders. Be sure and keep a bridle on your appetite; don't let it be master. And don't neglect to have one for your passions. They go mad if they get un manageable, driving you down a blind and headlong course to ruin. Keep the check-rein tight, don't let it slip; hold it steady. Never go without your bri dle, boys. That was the bridle my grandfather meant, the bridle of self-government. Parents try to restrain and check the children, and you can generally tell by their behavior what children have such wise and faithful parents. But parents cannot do everything. And some chil dren have no parents to care for them. Every boy must have his own bridle, and every girl must have hers; they must learn to check and govern them selves. Self-government is the most difficult and the most important govern ment in the world. It becomes easier every day if you practice it with a steauy and resolute will. It is the foundation of excellence. It is the cut ting and pruning which make the noble and vigorous tree of character. " Keep thou, the door of thy lips."--Exchange. * • 1 1 • l>on't Believe It. JLMexchange says: "A feature of President Hayes' reception in Chicago was a procession of firemen nearly five miles long." We don't believe it. "A fireman nearly five miles long" would be a greater curiosity than any Bar- num's " greatest show on earth" ever laid eyes upon. Such a fireman would be obliged to curl up like a black snake when he went to bed, and he would be all the time striking his shins against telegraph wires; and when he dropped a ten-dollar gold piece, it would take him half an liour to stoop down and pick it up. He would experience many other difficulties too numerous to men tion, and the principal advantage he would possess over five and six-footers would be his ability to converse with people passing five miles overhead in a balloon. Since the big fire in Chicago, that city may require " firemen nearly live miles long," but we repeat that we don't believe she has; 'em. Afire- man only half a mile long* would b$ a great curiosity.--Norristowii (Pa.) Her ald. --When a man takes his family out o£ town, and discovers, when they are 439 miles from home, that his wife, from force of habit, just slipped the key to the front door under the door mat, when she came away, he gets so mad at her unparalleled stupidity that he doesn't recover his good-humor un til it is discovered that he, after he lucked the trunk, very carefully put the key in the dining-room clock.--Hawk* Eye. t --Natural selection--taking the big^ gig!wjM»r-inelon.-^oii^ Con&Mfc * ' \