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»« A* - * '4 JULY BATS. Tkl poetry of earth la never dead; tL ̂ , Wfcan *11 Che birds are feint with Utabot •!*., ' And hide in cooling trees, a voice will ran From hedge to hedge about the new-mown amd; Datia «*»«iw98hopper,ii--he take* the le«A" In aniamjsr luxury--he has nevwr ions •.* Vttk his delights; for, when tirel out with tan. He teste at ease beneath some pleasant wee*.* Tbe poetry of earth i* ceasing never. • : > • < Or a lone winter evening, when the frost , Baa wrought a silence, from the stove then Dm cricket's Hong, in warmth increasing ever, isdiumi, to one in drowsiness half lost, Ha grasshopper's among some grassy hills. w Stranger, if thou has learned a troth which Xo school of long experience, that the woriift • * la ton of guilt Mid misery, and hast seen . !:0 Enough of all its sorrows, crimes, and caM||)< '«••• to tire thee of it, enter this wild weod And view the haunts of natur*. The calm shade Khali bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breese, Dot makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm 1 fo thy sick heart. Thou wOt find nothing here Of all fh*t$ained thee in the hannta of men, ' AxidsM^&m* loathe thy lite. The primal curse ^lUl, it is true. upon the unsinning earth, ' feat not in vengeance. God ha& yoked to guilt Her pale tormentor, misery. Hence, these shades Are still the abodes of gladness; tbe thicfc icojt 'OttfWtfn andstirring branches is alive And musical vith birds, fthat sing and spoil- In wantonness of spirit; while below, The squirrel, with raised paws and form erect, Chii-ps merrily. Throngs of insects In the shade %y their thin wings and dance in the warm beam That waked them into life. Even the green twits Partake the deep contentment; as they bend tto the soft winds, the snn from the bine sky Looks in and sheds a blessing on the scene. Searce less the cleft-born wild flower seems to Mjoy Existence than the winged plunderer That sucks its sweets. The mossy rocks themselves, And tbe old and ponderous trunks of prostrate trees That lead from knoll to knoll a causeway rude, Or bridge the sunken brook, and their dark roots With all their earth upon them, twining high, Breathe fixed tranquillity. The rivulet 8ends forth glad sounds, afad, tripping o'er its bed Of pebbly Sand*, or leapibg down the rockĵ . v -̂ Seems, with continuous laughter, to rejol# t' bits own being. BOOSIER MEAL ̂ B* JAME6 MAURICE THOMPSON. §?,* ' il a*** -J&£ ,V "I-H; «' }" " t? '9 *#• II was as pretty a country cottage as is to be found even nptr in all the "Wa­ bash valley, situated on a jjrominent bluff overlooking the l>road stretches of bottom land, and giving a fine view of the vide, winding river. The windows and doors of this cottage were draped in irines, among which the morning- glory and the honey snckle were the most luxuriant; while on each side of the graveled walk, that led from the front portioo to the door-yard gate, grew clusters of pinks, sweet-williams, And larkspurs. The house was painted white, and had very green window shutters--old-fashioned, to be sue, but «wiy, home4ik6, and tasty withal Abont the hoar of 6 on a Mofeday morning, in the month of May, a fine- looking lad of 12 years walked slowly up the path which led from the old orchard to the house. He ina dressed in loose trousers of bottle-green jeans, ;»,jacket of the same, heavy boots, and * well-worn wool hat. His face was strikingly handsome, being fair, health­ ful, intelligent, and bright, though now it.frorp an indescribable, faintly visible •shade, as of innocent perplexity, or, 'pdttttfly, grief. * •' 'J The mistress oi' the ootiakge was at this time p the kitchen, preparing for , §, % week's washing.. She: was a mid- m ot* stoutly-built, healthy matron, . -o-' m ' 'A • m . . . - :s.vim i y ' \ • ' v#Ty <1^ jotim *VK >i\it m jmrnm m *i .W' #t*i . r • * - i* sai>dj-lteired and slightly freckled, blue- eyed and quick in her -movements. Usually smiling and happy, it was pain­ ful to see how strongly she now strug­ gled to Waster tbe emotions of sadness ^kat constantly arose in her bosom, like t . JP^cters that would not be driven away. -IA bright-eyed, golden-haired maiden 16 this in the breakfast-room, wash­ ing the morning dishes, and singing -occasional snatches from a mournful ditty- It was sad, indeed, to see a «loud of regret and half-suppressed an-' guish on that fresh young face, and dimming the earnest sparine of those nwUilly merry eyes. J ^ULr. Coulter, the head of the family owner of the cottage and its lands, »too<J near the center of the sitting- room, gazing fixedly and sadly at the picture of a sweet child holding a white kitten in its lap, which picture hung on "the wall over against the broad fire­ place. A look of sorrow betrayed itself •even w the dark, stern visage of the man. i Occasionally he drew his grizzled i ?j4f, mustache into his mouth, and bit it •|.v "itt.jiid ii fioreely. Evidently he waa chafing un- •der his grief. The cottage windows were wide open, •mis the Western custom in fine weath­ er* and thf fragrance of spice-wood and , sassafras floated in on the flood-tide of 'JprWpleasant air, while from the great locust » f°w® by tlie yard-fence fell the twitter- ' ing prelude to a finch's song. A white line of fog above the river was plainly visible from the west windows, and through this fleecy veil flocks of teal «ttd wood-ducks cut swiftly in their downward sweep to the water. A gold- <en flicker sang and hammered on the gate-post the while he eyed a sparrow- hawk that wheeled and screamed overhead. ^ _s JThe lad entered the kitchen and W his mother, in afvoice full of tender- 'JMBS, though hardly audible; "Ma, where's pap?" f s wIn the front room, Billy,* replied ' HHB matron, solemnly. Massing into the breakfast-room, Billy looked at his raster, and a flash of «yynpathetio sorrow played back and lorth from the eyes oI one to those of Hue % other, then he went strai V' jl • df 1} (J- ..... 0k the ritting-fooia, and handed something toMr. Coulter., p The man looked down at hk boy proudly, sternly, sorrowfully. The lad looked up into his father's face sadly eacultingly, heroically. It waa a living tableau no artist could reproduce. «Billy,w said the father, gravely, "I took your mother and sister to church yesterday." J •!<>, "Yes, sir." 1 "And left yottws ' *Yes, sir," replied the boy, gazing out through the window at the flicker aa it hitched down the gate-post, and finally dropped into the grass with a shrill chirp. * And you didn't water the *0-o-o! Oh, sir! Geeroody! Oh, jne! Lawsy, lawsy mel" |f j ! The slender scion of an apple tree rose and fell in the hand of Mr. Coulter; and up from the jacket of .the lad, like ineenso from an altar, rose a cloud of dust, mingled with the nap of jeans. Down in the young clover of the meadow the larks and sparrows sang cheerily, the gnats and flies danced up and down in the sunshine, the fresh, soft leaves of the vines rustled, and all was merry, indeed. Billy's eyes were turned up toward the face of his father in appealing agony; but still, with a sharp hiss, the switch cut the air, falling steadily and mercilessly on his shoulders. And along the green banks of the river the willows shook their shining fingers at the lifting fog, and the voices of ohil- dren going by to school smote the sweet May wind. "Oh, pap, HI not forget the pigs no more!* "'Spect you won't, neither.* The wind, by a sudden puff, lifted into the room a shower of white-bloom petals from a sweet-apple tree, letting them fall gracefully upon the patch­ work carpet, the while a plowman whistled plaintively in a distant field. "Outch! Crackee! Oh, pap, pap!" "Shet your motuh, 'r m split you to the backbone!" How many delightfiU places ia the woods, how many cool spots beside the murmuring river would have been more pleasant to Billy than the place he just then occupied! . ^ "Oh, me! oh, me!" yelledPthe lad. •Them poor pigs!" was the reply. Still the dust rose and danced in the slanting jet of sunlight that fell across the room, and the hens out at the barn cackled and sang for joy over new eggs laid in choice places. At one time during the falling of the rod, the girl quit washing the dishes; and, thrusting her head into the kitch­ en, said, in a subdued tone: "My land! ain't Billy a gittin' an awfalone?" "You're mighty right!" replied the mother, solemnly. Along toward the last, Mr. Coulter tip­ toed at every stroke. The switch actu- a% screamed through the air as it foil Bflly danced. ~%ow go,sir! " cried the man, tossing the frazzled stump of the gad out through the ' window. "Go now, and the next time you water them pigs! * And, while the finch poured a cata­ ract of melody from the locust, he went. Poor boy! that was a terrific thrash­ ing, and, to make i^ worse, it had been promised to him on the evening before, so that he had been dreading it shivering over it all night. Now, as he walked through the breakfast-room, his sister looked at him in a oommiserating way, but, on passing the kitchen, he oould not catch the eye of his mother. Finally, he stood in the free, open air, in front of the saddle closet. It was just then that a speckled rooster, on the barnyard fence, flapped his wings and crowed veoiferously. A turkey-cock was strutting on the grass by the old cherry tree. Billy opened the door of the closet. " A boy's will is the wind's will, and the thoughts of yotith axe long, long thoughts." Billy peeped into the closet, and then cast a glance about him, as if to see if anybody was near. At length, during a pleasant lull in the morning wind, and while the low, tenderly mellow glowing of the river was distinctly audible, and the song of the finch increased in volume, and the bleating of new lambs in the meadow died in fluttering echoee under the barn, and while the fragrance of apple- blooms grew fainter, and while the sun, now flaming just a bit above the east­ ern tree-tops, launched a shower of yel­ low glories over him from head to foot, he took from under his jacket behind a doubled sheep-skin, which, with an in­ effable smile, he tossed into the closet. Then, as the yellow flicker rose rapidly from the grass, Billy walked off, whist­ ling th* sir of that onoe-popular bal* ladr- .. . , Oh, give me back my fifteen P*W*S I ; 5 ? 'V . vr XXXA HABBUCAK. Extending north and south through Northern Minnesota, a distance of 100 miles, and averaging from fifteen to twenty miles in width, is a strip of tim­ ber called the "Big Woods." Into this strip drifted, in the early days of the State, a motley collection of people from all parts of the Union, and sometimes direct from the Old World. Much change has token place in these later years, but there still remain enough to give "spice" to the whole region. One of th£ oddest of these, and a character worthy of the pen of a Dick­ ens, is abaohelor, known far and wide as "Jim." The first time I ever saw him he was driving his yoke of spotted oxen through the woods. His wagon was filled with lumber, and on top of it was every child in the settlement. Not so very many, to be sure, but if there had been more they would have been there too, for they considered him their especial property, and he made no ob­ jection to being so considered. There was a sort of broad path cut through the woods, dignified by being called a road, but the trees came so olose that the children broke off branch­ es as they passq£, much to the terror of Jim, who remarked every now and then, "I low some o' you'll git tweaked ofiTn there." Every few moments some one called out to him to stop and pick those honeysuckles, or wanted to be helped down to gather a bunch of Dutchman's breeches, and then to be helped up again, so their progress was anything but rapid. He wore ducking pants with one suspender, and that made of bass- wood bark. His shirt was "hickory," very wide, open at the peck and with quite extensive holes in the elbows. His hat was straw, braided from some of his last year's wheat-straw, and his boots were old ragged affairs, very broad and long, and tied at the toe with strips of basswood bark to keep them from gap­ ing open. It was a favorite remark of his that "boots is only half worn when they come to withein'"--meaning to ty­ ing with withes or strips of bark. The children have grown up, some of them have married and have children of their owsi, and still he lives in his little, old log-house, with its bark roof, just as he did then. The bark has curled up and let in the rain, and finally been torn off and replaced more than once, but that is about the only change. He is very fond of flowers, and his little, low windows are always covered with morning-glories, and the long beds each side of the walk are full of bounc­ ing-bet, marigolds, asters, bachelor's- buttons and old-fashioned pinks, while holyhocks and sunflowers grow all about the yard. He has managed, in some way, to get a small spot cleared about the littld house, but the efiort of cultivating it seems altogether too much for him, so he rents ic. He firmly believes the Masons will yet ruin the country, and has two or three torn, greasy old books, in which he can point ont to you the records of their past ter­ rible deeds. He understands the cause of the Aurora Borealis, declaring it is caused by the internal fires flaring ont through the North pole on to the icebergs. Carnelians, he affirms, are petrified wood; he can see the grain, and has a similar theory for everything, by which is savee all doubt. It must be confessed his ideas of neatness are not up to the usual stand­ ard, and, when he wishes a shirt or other article washed, he puts it iif the lake near his house, piling stones on it to keep it from floating away, and, when the waves have washed (?) it, dries it on a tree, and it is ready to be worn. Nothing ever disturbs him, he was never known to be unhappy, and is nearly always singing suoh Songs as "Bally 'Bound the Flag," and when, one day, the preacher in the school-house asked in his sermon, "Was there ever a man who was perfectly happy?" the whole younger portion of the rustic congregation turned and looked at "Happy Jim." If the preacher had been a moire sensitive man, the very pointed application of his question might have disconcerted him. The children of thoce whom he used to amuse consider him in. much the same light as their parents did before them, a great boy, whose chief business in life is to amuse them, mid he seems to consider it quite an honor. A few gray hairs show in his hair and heavy beard, but his arguments on the Masons, his songs and his laugh are still the same, and he is still and will be ever "Happy Jim." • lUSiik .! • COLUSA count;, Cal., has summcfaed Its people to a war of extermination against the wildcat and the fox-wolf. A fund is raised, and $5 a head is the premium. In Australia rabbits are be­ ing exterminated with himiiphid^ of carbon, of which the Government haa • .waiww v ,t into ! established a factory. **3 -r* •: wmm 1'$ TWJB THMASU^B a rich and exalted Arabian, ate, drank, gamed and indulged himself in every species of voluptuous dissipa­ tion. Once, when he was tormented with that irksomeness which is ever the follower of satiety, he was struck with the curious desire of visiting the sepul- cher of his' ancestors. He descended and wandered between rows of rotting bcnes, not with the (solemn reflection that his own must, one day, be mixed with them, but with the idea of a voluptuary, that it was very cool and eje waa at­ tracted by an inscription, which was half erased. It was this: "Here is hidden a greater treasure than was ever possessed by Croesus." Almonsar, whose wealth was not in a small degree exhausted, had the vault immediately opened, and found--a handful of dust, under which was % marble slab, con­ taining these words: "'Ere thou, de­ luded mortal, with daring hand pro­ faned this vault, reigned here uninter­ rupted peace--a treasure which Croesus himself never possessed." STONES' &TL LEMMA* BY BATTUE B. 8. CKES8Y. . Mm. Jones was confined to ^the bed with rheumatism, and Jones and the four little ones were left to their own destruction. She had been took but two days when there was not a clean dish in the home, nor a morsel Cooked. Up to this time Jones and family had subsisted on the nick-nacks that Mrs. Jones had made before her illness. In their absence he set himself about the task of getting up a meal after his own fashion. He arose quite early, shook out the ashes from the stove-grate, fill­ ing it with coal, and then went out to the stable to feed his horse and poultry; oame in and found the fire smothered; made use of a few expletives, dumped the grate and started a new fire. He then got the dishes together, washed a part of them with tbe scrub-rag, broke the rest, and set the unbroken ones on the table. Then he fried some pork, put the dish on the lounge, and the cat upset it, making a grease-spot on the new rag-carpet that would be apt to remind him of the catastrophe in time to come. He tried his best to remove it with the lamp-rag and a dish of cold water, but, finding it of no avail, turned his atten­ tion to the potatoes which were in the oven. To his horror, they were burned to a coal, so where was his breakfast? At this juncture he went and consulted his wife. She advised him to resort to griddle-cakes. So he repaired to the pantry and made a batter according to her direc­ tions, as he thonght. While he was eating he was of the opinion that sole- leather fried through two generations would not be half so tough. But, with the help of his two oldest hopefuls, Oliver Goldsmith and Washington Irving, the cakes were devoured. The two youngest, he hoped, would remain in bed till he finished his repast; but, to his sorrow, they both awoke, calling loudly for attention, before he had fair­ ly commenced eating. Here was a di­ lemma, but Jones got through with it as well as could have been expected^of one in his state of mind. ^ The youngsters thought th&r toilet rather hastily made, and Mrs. Jones pronounced the demonstrations of both parent anjl child rather striking. After breakfast (?) Jones went in pursuit of help. In a few hours he re­ turned with a red-faced, sandy-haired Irish girl, who, discouraged at the as pect of things, absconded the following morning, taking with her, as Jones as­ certained, thtee silver spoons, two sil­ ver forks, one costly napkin-ring, and a few other less valuable articles. Jones recovered them all His forte lay in this direction rather than in house­ keeping. He next brought home a copper-col­ ored wenoh, who made things " stand from under." Poor Mrs. Jones hardly dared utter a groan, and, as for having any voice in housekeeping matters, it was out of the question. Washington and Oliver stood aghast, while the two wee bairns, Jeannie Deans and Charles Dickens, cuddled up to their mother's side for protection in a way that was quite affecting. Jones suffered the least, as he spent nearly all the day at his offioe. He never had been so wholly devoted to bis business before. Mrs. Jones suffered fearfully for care, nevertheless she recovered in a little while, and the " help" we»t her way. Jones was not sorry to see his wife at her post again. He declared he would •oouer suffer the penalty the Delaware- ans do for larceny and other small crimes than to be confined to house­ work; and, as for hired help--well, he concluded he did not get thev first quality. PiTTsnsu>. Mass. VITB uitDJtM oxrm OMNXlttA TIOtTS HOOF. In the family of Joseph Phares, No. George street, there are five gen­ erations of the family represented, all under one roof. First is the great- great-grandmother, 90 years of age; then the great-grandmother, aged about 70; then the grandmother, 40 years old; the mother, 19 or 20 years of age, and last of all the child, which was born on Bungay morning. Five generations, four of which are represented by the maternal ancestor, are not often found under one roof, especially in an Ameri­ can family.--Cincinnati Commercial. A MAN sobered in New York from a condition • f complete inebriety when informed that his friends had buried a man whom they supposed to have been himself. CO- OPERA TlOtr. v n w-** *» *«9tMUfc By co-operation, as the term is now used, is meant an association of persons for establishing and keeping a store, in which its members purchase their sup­ plies, and the profits of which are divided among them. For many years it has been thought practicable to set up such stores, and thus to enable the poorer classes both to obtain their goods cheaper and bet2 ter than at the ordinary stores, and to ijhave a distinct interest in the business to which they thus contributed*- The first successful attempt to do this was begun at the large manufactur­ ing town of .Rochdale, in England, the home of John Bright, about thirty years ago. A poor weaver,who found that his and his fallow-woikmen's house-1 hold expenses were too high, as com­ pared with their wages, conceived the idea that they might com tine together and run a store for themselves. They would thus, he thought, procure their goods at wholesale prices, and save the profits made by the retail dealers; they would be more sure to get the pure ar­ ticles, since the storekeepers were their own customers, and so were personally interested.to procure what was good; and they might reap for themselves whatever profit the sides of the store yielded. With six other weavers in the factory he set about carrying his plan into exe­ cution. They put together the scant savings they were able to make from their wages, borrowed what little additional funds they could, and, hiring a little building in the town, at last opened a store. Not long after, this first successful co­ operative store was placed on a very effective basis, and from it has grown that extensive oo-operative system which has spread over England, and is now finding a foothold in the United States, known as the "Bochdale plan." The system is, in brief, as follows: First a number of men get together, and subscribe and pay in a certain amount of capital, with which to begin operations, and which also serves as a reserve. For the money thus loaned each man receives a moderate annual interest in proportion to the amount he has put in, and reoeives his proportion al number of shares. But in the meetings of the co-opera tions thus formed, each shareholder has one vote, and one only, no matter how many or how few shares he holds. This, it is seen, is entirely different from the practioe of all other corporations, for in them a man has as many votes as he has shares, and the more shares he holds the more votes he has, and the greater his influence on the conduct of the con­ cern. The object of the co-operative socie­ ties in making all shareholders equal in their voting power jus to prevent any one man, or any set of men, to obtain, as they often do in other companies, a controlling authority. Now when the store is started, a schedule of prices is adopted so as to give a slight profit to the store, and the shareholders make their puichases from it. Every time a shareholder buys any­ thing he is given a check, stating the amount he has expended for goods. He carefully keeps these checks. ( At the end of the year, when the ac­ counts are balanced, whatever profits have been made are divided into two parts. First, die interest on the capital is paid from them to those who have contributed. Next--and this is the main principle of the co-operative system-- what is left of profits after paying the interest on the capital is divided among those shareholders who have made pur­ chases at the store during the year in proportion to the amount each has pur­ chased. For instance, if a man who has pur­ chased say $100 worth of goods during the year receives as his share of the profits $6, one who had bought $50 worth would get $2.50, one who had bought $25 worth would get $1.25; that is, each gets his share of profits accord­ ing to the sum he has spent at the store. It will be seen that by this system, which has succeeded to some extent in England in being put into praotical operation, a member of a co-operative society has many advantages. He gets his household goods as cheaply as he oould anywhere; he is pretty sure to get good articles; he gets interest on the money he has put into the capital; and he shares the profits of the concern according to the value of the goods he has purchased during the year. This subject is too large a one to be exhausted in a single article, and we hope to return to it again. A VALUABLE brood-mare has recently died near Plymouth, Eng., from hydro­ phobia. It had been bitten by a mad dog about three weeks before. It ran at anything that came within reach, took up stones in its mouth, and broke its teeth in crunching them, picked up sticks and shook them as a terrier would a rat, and occasionally bit its legs and body. After continuing in thi* state for some hours, the poor animft] in great agony. 'J J J HAPPY WMMK WR rjf TJOJS JBJPMIW6- ' __ TIJUJS. ' : ; ** WHWIE A. WSDM. I i ^ " ' were we In the rpring-time Mr, When our hearts were light and free from We saw not shadows on the distant hill, Aa we stood 1b the sunshine brfgM tod •«» . aWrwsw the mornings, dewy and bright, Sfeeet were bird netes from morn OU nigM{ liright were tbe flowers that aprons in our wijjr, ' Merry the snatches we sang each day. little thought we of shadows away, ' *• •>, « Of the care or toU, or cloudy day; ' We only knew that the skies were Ihat onr lives were new, our hearts were Issq. Bat now the sorrowful days are hen; Sunshine is past and shadows are hear; * v The bird-songs are hushed, the flowers are dead The happy days erf spring-time are fled. But, through all the chill and cloudy dayfe*'- ̂ Through the mist and sleet, and troubled i , % My heart sings softly this glad refrain. Which proves a sweet balm for every After the lone winter time Is o'er, ' After the wearying pain is no mora, ^ We shall look once more at bright, bin* «Hft v 1 And sing again as in days gone by.' i • Wnuuirao»vii.i.K. Ma»s. - • ' ~ i , •= --il • JrJLEASAlfTMIMa* •" i TEB popular pulse--Impulse, r A siGK-'o-cuBE--Getting well. A pawnbroker'S shop is a for-loan place. Is THE proj»ersauoe for awoodoock, wood saws? COULD CICE*F^"•£' boat?--JFfcitefcal Times. Could Plato a ship? ' EVEN Spiritualists will be glad to leave off their wraps pretty soon. THE miner's song--"Three fissures went sailing out into the West." A SUCCESSFUL shooter at glass balls must necessarily be a "crack shot." "THIS can't be beat," as the said when he bought the porcelain egg. Is A carrotty headed man the moat likely to be selected for a supe at the theater? SOME people think that the best way to break up a cold is to give it a whisky punch or two. > BAY intimates thai an Oneida county man wants to fish with a cornet.--New York News. It is to be hoped he will oatoh a bass soon. , A BOOK is just published, entitled, "Sayings and Doings of Great Men." We notice that the "Sayings" have a large majority. "You look sober; smile a lityle." He smiles, and the photographer says, "Not-so much, sir; my instrument is too small to encompass the opening." A GENTLEMAN, who ran a foot-race with his athletic spouse, not long ago, and came out ahead, has since borne the unenviable reputation of, a wife- beater. ^ , WHEN they rob a man in Deadwood, they make him "put up his hands." When the thing is to be done in Wall street, the party is asked to put up a margin. "WHEN 1 was a boy," said a very prosy, long-winded orator to his friend, "I used to talk in my sleep." "And now," said his friend, "you deep in your talk." But somehow that didn't seem to be just exactly the point the orator was going to make.--Burdette. AGAIN the breeze, with fragrant incense laden, Sweeps through the lattice like a whispering fay, And blossoms, spotless as the robes of Aiden, Weave flossy cbaplets for the brow of May; Again the grain, upreaehing from tit* levels. Nods 'n«ath tha sunbeam's langtuar teaeding spells, Again the bee about flie lilac revels, And sweet-toothed maidens pine for eats mala. --Boston Post. A PEBSON sends the Jersey City Journal the following poem, which contains more truth than rhyme: Those melancholy days have come, The saddeat of the year, When it's most too oold to take off ydur flannels, And most too hot to wear *em. How FOOLISHLY asks that charming old poem, in the very first stanza: Where, where will be the birda that sing, A hundred years to come? Most of them will be dead, but the few bens that survive at that time will be most awfully tough.--Burlington Hawk-Eye. To CLASSICAL student: loo a*, " If Atlas supported the world, what supported Atlas?" The question, dear sir, has often been asked, but never, so far as we are aware, satisfactorily an­ swered. We have always been of the opinion that Atlas must have married a rich wife and got his support from her father.--Albany Evening Journal. WANTED JTlTir TESTA arm*r TMUCAT- MMNT. A tramp applied for food at the house of a suburban agriculturist recently, and, while he was eating the rations that had been furnished at his solicitation, he was asked: "Why do you not go to work?" "I have looked long for a place that would suit me," he replied, "but have never found it!" "Is there not plenty of work at fanning?" asked the interrogator. "Oh, yes," said the tramp, "plenty of it; but you see, sir, I want to find a vineyard where a man who goes in at the eleventh hour is the first to come out and to draw a full day's wages. In the olden time they dealt fairly by a man. That is the New Testament treatment, and that is what I am looking for." At the close of his meal he started again in pursuit of "that ooveted agricultural opportunity.--Nor­ wich Bulletin, \ "*2J \ ISM