DEATH Aim W &CAH HTAKUTT. V w ' bow »wwt the thou „ *.**•»-vjj Thai thin world'F» strife is ended; »t all we feared and all we nongtat CA •' Are In one deep sleep ended. \ j o more the aniruisl* of to-day . To wait the darker morrow; o niovo «t>era call to <lo or say, ; ki c To br<<do'er sin and sorrow. •.'•y-,1 Death! how dear the hope ' *-+*-•• ?'• That t hronirh the thickest shade ! * Scyoiid the sleep and sunless slope 'f g Our treasure store is laid. > ^the loved, the mourned, the hoaored dead That lonely path have trod, nd that same path we too must tread \ To be with them and God. «t#fc • «H* *1 <0 liffe! thon too art awAt; Thnn breatli'st the fragrant fcrwth - . ©f those whom even the hope to meet • ~|c r Can checr the jrate of cUwth. «, '- ' ®i-fe is the seene therfpwseniie lighted!' J*Its every hour and place Ttt; \ > >11 with dear thought of them united, ; $(« ' Irradiate with their jrraoe. ! ftyiere lie the duties small and great .Which we from them inherit: ilSher > spring the aims that lead us straight , ^ i-'KTo t!n>ir celestial spirit. ' . ^ . s, V ' t > 3U1 Biorious1 things, or seenor^houd, • i -• .'i For love or justice done. .. i . ™. wie lio]>efnl deed, the'ennoming word, >*. *1 < , 'By this poor life are won. 5* • Oh Life and Death! Like Day and Nigfat Your etiardian task combined; , ; -; V". ftllar of darkness and of light, *' ; »!*>»<! thronirh Earth's storm till bright • : .. i-'V-.-'-'Heaven's dawn shall shine! • «-•«' » : - - •• M-\ SENT DOWN. *1*; Clinrley Quedglington was in A" . thoughtful mood. This was an unusual ' thing for him.' AS a general rule he didn't think: but the most raoketv and mischievous and debt-incurring, non-de bating undergraduates have their mb- . ments of thought, though thry hiay studiously conceal them. And Charley's thoughts, this sunny May morning, as lie glanced into the. blazing hot quad rangle, waiting until it should be time to partake of Gordon's luncheon, were WNOT very pleasant. "If your name oomes before us ffgain," the Dean had , said grimly, with his sternest aspect-- and the old gentleman, the jolliest of talkative hosts at dinner, could be very grim and stern about 1'2 o'clock in the day--"if your TIN me comes before us again, Mr. Quedglinuton, we shall have no alternative but to send you down for A considerable period. You are never out of trouble, either in the college or in the city. This is the last time you •will be warned, sir. Consider yourself <GATED after 6 for the rest of the term." "And, by Jove, I believe the old gentleman means ruminated Charley, stretching his legs upon the window-seat and puffing his cigarette smoke into the reces-es of the shelter: ing sun-blind. "As sure as fate I shall GET into a row l>efore the end of the term, though it is only a fortnight oft". There is Cummings' wine to-night, and they'll go and draw the but sir after ward, and then the fat will be in the fire; for, whether I am there or safe in bed, the porters will swear to Mr. Quedglington--small blame to thenS." And. he laughed with a keen apprecia tion of his own bad eminence. Umph! It's ak very well; buf; if it come* to rnstioation won't the governor be sav age ! He's a jolly old boy, and hfe'LL swallow the bills with hardly a grimace; BUT* this affair wouldn't L>e quite A coating of sugar to help them on their way." Charley's fo&bodings were not with- ou^a more than usual slvare of prob- nihility- Tb«TO TV aw not TOIWK nlianno of the most popular and reckless of St. Aldate's men keeping out of a row fpr (), the remaining weeks of the summer ," term. The dons had been very long- suffering with him. There was so much G, good in him at bottom, the great lumi nary SA'd in confidence after dinner, and the lesser lights agreed with him. He looked so young; a dark-complexioned, ,,, handsome fellow, hardly as old as his A years, and with but the faintest symp toms of a mustache, to which .only his scout knew how much care and time were devoted. He appeared quiet * -eiiough, and not very strong. Appear ances, however, are deceitful; and 'Charley was not long in impressing his ; set with his utterly thoughtless, reck- - less gayetv, which yet had n ot a grain of real evil at the bottom of it. His father, the Archdeacon of Loamford, was a rich man, and a famous pillar of the church. 'Charley would be well enough off some 'day; so that the mere getting into debt would hurt no one very much.* But the ,;T Archdeacon had passed through hiscol- l lege c.U-eer without a reproach, and was 4, * great preacher, of note elsewhere than in, ecclesiastical circles. It would be a terrible thing if the SON of such a man - • should be put to open shame, and 'sent * down like the Ron of any godlels Earl or •*rea!f-minded Bishop. ""Hullo, Charley!" cried a jovial young voice from the quad below, at THIS point of his meditations; "you'll breakfast with me to-morrow? The best train for Watlingbury is at 12:30." "X'm not coming," answered Charley, rather shortly. "You're not coming?" cried his in terrogator. " What is- up now ? But wait a MOMENT and I'll be. with you." And up the echoing wooden staircase; so shady and cool in comparison with the blaze and sunshine outside, came •Cummings, three steps at a time, and ^DASHED into Charley's room. ""What is up now ?" he repeated. "The Dean has sent for me, and says lie'11 send me down if my name goes up aga;n this term." "Pheigh! that is bad. It would not suit your l>ook with the governor, would it, Charley ? But he has said the same often before." "He means it t îs time, and he has gated me after 6 for a fortnight." "Gordon, what do you think is the latest?" cried Cummings, leaning out OF the window and accosting a MAN in * many-colored coat who was leaning out of a ground-floor window not far off, "Quedglington has been sent for, and gated until the end of the term. He says he won't come to Watlingbury to-morrow." ( * Gammon! IH come up and draw the \badger. What is a gating V Gordon should have known, for, Charley excepted, no one at St. Al date's had more experience of it. Wat- V lingbury races were strictly forbidden to the undergraduates of the Univer sity; and even the somewhat lax rules of St. Aldate's were upon this point strict as those of more learned colleges. The areival of the trains from Watling bury, at any rate of those late in the •day, was attended by a proctor AND 4mll-dog, to see if any of his flock had been astray; while a watch was also "It's all very well for you fellows to risk it, but I can't, afford to be sent down." "Pooh! not a chance of your being sent down! It ain't like you to funk. What a capital time we had there last year! I And cousin has a horse running and w« can get the tip from him." "Are you sure that there is a 4 o'clock" train ?" "Certain. Come, that is a good fel low." „ "Then, by Jove, I will!" cried Char ley. And as no promises are so well kept, as those which please onrs§lves, he kept his word to the letter. He was too young to find the pleasure turn to dust and ashes. He thoroughly enjoyed his afternoon on Watlingbury race course; and, for once, the tip, wonderful to re late, was the straight one, anil the af fair went off capitally. "My l>oy," said Gordon, taking him a little aside about a quarter to 4, "you have just time to catch your train. We'll risk it; but if you are not a fool you'll be off." "I'm not going," c.ied Charley, reck lessly. " Then you are a fool," answfered the other; "take my advice ahd GO^N " It was such a rare thing for Gordon to give advice of this kind that our hero took it as that of a good angel, who, in- •ste UL of the suggestive flame-colored •BLAZON on Tuesday, had assumed, with much appropriateness, a fashionable frock coat of Quaker-like gray. Qued glington readied the station just ih time to tumble into a first-class carriage already pretty full. Many of its occu pants looked as if the tickets in their pockets' might'be of any hue save white, M"h:ch w.is, and is, the color of first^-class tickets U'ion tho Watlingbury branch line. Charley locked them over with the superciliousness of 8t. Aldate's, and c.ivie to the conclusion that, if un- der£ra«l,uates at all. they hailed from some college more than a Sabbath clay's journev from the center of University life. ' . .. . They had lunched well, and were loud and noisy, as was „ Charley some times; but, somehow, their loudness and noisiness were not like the same things at St. Aldate's, and Queilglington regarded them with much the same dis approval that filled the Dean of St. Aldate's when brought face to face with' his, Charley's, vagaries. His gaze settled at last on a face in the far corner which, under the circum stances, caused him some surprise. It was so decidedly out of place. It was that of a rather pretty girl, with a fair- haired, graceful little head, set off by a small gray hat. It was a face formed TO be either gravely sweet or coquettish- ly smiling; but now it was a frightened, piteous little face. The sudden irrup tion of the noisy and excited crew into her carriage was ev deutly not to her liking; but, as she was sitting at the end furthest from the platform; it was no easy matter to extricate herself. " She's a governess, and a pretty one," thought Charley. "Certainly she is traveling first-class, so she must be a Newnliam or Girton girl. They get a lot of ftnonev. I wish I had some sisters who wanted a governess." It was not Quedglington only whose attention she attracted. The young men, their bets settled, turned toward i her more of their regards than was po lite or pleasant. From this they ad- vainn U to making euiogistic remarks upon her appearance to one another, and generally to talking rather in a way that I madeQuedglington's face hot with anger. By the T me the train stopped at the jun C' ion Charley was on the point of in terfering. The young lady rose, how ever, and, taking up her cloak, stood prepared to leavo the carriage. Her tormentors made way for her not an inch, but sat with tfieir knees meeting across the passage. "Would you L»e kind enough to let me pass?" she said bravely, in quite a steady voice. ^ But they were heated with excite ment and the wine* they had taken at luncheon. Charley had come to the conclusion by this time that they were not 'Varsity men a,t all, and we will trust and hope that lie was right. AT any rate they sat still. "I think," Baid one, with mock po liteness, " that the ticket you showed at Watlingbury was for our destination. We do not change here." "And we really cannot spare so pret ty a face.' We are hoping to have the pleasure of seeing you home." So the girl was ia fact a prisoner; the noise upon the platform made it impossible for her to get help from there. Her T eyes wandered round* the flushed faces, and rested upon Char ley's, flushed fepo, but from a different cause. She saw that he was not of the oth ers. "Don't let us have any of this rot!" he said, quietly. "Let this lady pass, if you please."• THT y all turned upon him as he rose and with some roughness pushed two or three of them asUe. The girl just touched his H nd, stepped lightiv past them, and was out of the carriage in a M ment before they could recover from their surprise. "Confound you! What business is it of yours ? " cried one, standing up and catching hold of his collar. Charlev did not answer him in words; his blood was up, and, AS the other maintained his hold, he struck him between the eyes with all his strength and some little science. The man fell back among his fellows, and all rose up and hit out at Charley rather wildly, who warded off a blow or two, and then stepped lightly backward on the platform to avoid others, He was only just in time; be fore they could follow him the train began to move; a porter, who, in tho hubbub of the station, had seen nothing of it, slammed the door; and the last that Charley, standing upon the plat form, saw of his opponents, was a grortp of angcv faces framed in the quickly- moving window. He turned around with a little laugh of triumph, and saw his damsel, so lately in distress, standing at his elltow! She was much the more self-possessed of the two now. " Thank you so much," she said pret tily ; " it was foolish of me to be afraid; but they really were rude, were thev not? I am afraid now that I have caused you to be left behind; it does not matter much to me, but it,may to you." " Not a bit," answered he, with a vi vacious mendacity which impressed her greatly. Yet he was not unmindful "And I eordialty rfHi*«| M that feel ing," she said, with A laugh of pleasure at the thought of the blow he had struck. "I am going to Bee some friends who live here; but I hope I may have some further opportunity of thanking you. I am greatly obliged to your bravery." She looked brightly up into Charley'S face, held out a little gloved hand and was gone, quite conscious, however, that the young fellow's eyes were fixed upon her as she passed out of the station, and probably not ill* pleased by the fact. She was gone, and he was left to kick his heels for a couple of hours in a dreary station and get what amusement he could out of the refreshment room and the book stall. In time the next train came and he rejoined his aston ished party. ° "Your name and college, sir, if you please ?"' "Quedglington, St. Aldate's." The proctor had known quite well both his name and college, but preferred to go through the old formula. So a fine was the least to be expected as the result of the Watlingbury trip, in addition to the penalty TP L>e paid for the broken gate, of the nature of wliieli there could be little doubt, afts>r the Dean's solemn warning. And, therefore, when his ycout, on calling him next morning, said that the Dean requested the pleasure nf j his "company at 12 o'clock, Charley felt j that lie might as well tell Bunn to begin J packing his things. A breakfast with I Gordon, however, cheered him up a lit-, j tie, but tho momentary gayety sank i down again at the door of the Dean'S | house. ".What will the governor say ? " 1 lie groaned. When he was ushered in | he SAY no sign of relenting in the Dean's face. "You were not in oollege Tuesday, Mr. Quedglington, by the tini$ at which, for you, the gate closes. I am also informed that you returned from Watlingbnry by a train arriving after that time. The doings at Watlinqbury were disgraceful, sir, as I have good reason to know. I cannot imagine you have anything to urge." Charley regarded the third button of the diagonal waistcoat with a stoical calmness. "After the solemn warning,we gave you only two days ago, I think I AM ex ercising some lenienpy in merely send ing you down until tlie end of this term. You will go down to-day. •vGood morn- intr." fflTFAamLY DOCTOR. ING- Quedglincrton of St. Aldate's was not the nun to plead, even if he could think of anything to say, in mitigation of sen tence. He turned to leave with a silent bow, when the further door of the li brary was opened, and a voice he knew exclaimed: "I L>eg your pardon, uncle; I thought you were alone." Charlev looked up in astonishment. It was his friend of the train. "Good gracious," said she, recogniz ing him at once, and coming in; "I am glad you are a St. Aldate's man. Uncle, this is the gentleman who in terfered on my behalf yesterday, and missed his train through his kindness. Perhaps you will thank him for me." "It was nothing at all," murmured , Charley. "This is very remarkable," said the Dean, in the accent of Dominie Sampson. "IF this is so, I have to thank you for doing, not only my niece, but myself, a great service." •"IT IS sor erieu Miss Gertrude pet tishly. "Indeed, indeed! Then it is very re markable. This is my niece Gertrude, Mr. Quedglington; I am greatly obliged to vou--greatly. Will you be kind enough to run away, Gertrude, and we will talk about it again." In A few minutes they were alone again. " So that was how you missed your train ?" asked the head. Charley nodded. "Well, I am greatly obliged to. yon. You are an honor to the college--in some respects. But of course I can make on alteration upon this account. Yon had no business going to Watling bury or returning from it. So I must say good morning." Even Charley thought the Dean was treating him a little cavalierly, but he was not one to make much of his services. He made FOR thetdoor. "Ah, yes," Baid the Dean, when his hand was already upon it; "do you know my brother Sir Kichard? No, I think not. He has asked me to send him a rod or two to make up his party. My wife and niece are going to his place in the North, to-night. Perhaps, Mr. Quedglington, you would escort them, and stay until the end of the term, when your home engagements fall in. Wouid it aivt you?" "I shall be delighted, sir," stammered Charley, the vision of Miss Gertrude, petulantly stamping the floor with the smallest foot the male imagination can conceive before his eyes. "Very well; you had better dine here early, as they go by the 8 o'clock train. Your letters could be forwarded from here," added the Dean, with a slight cough, "and then, perhaps, you need not trouble your people with your change of places. You go down to-nignt, then. Good-morning." That was how Charley Quedglington was sent down. Some people AR$ in clined to think that it was all a plan of Mrs. Dean's, and a very successful plan, too. But that, we know> is all nonsense. One thing about it is cer tain--that, to this day, the venerable Archdeacon is totally ignorant, and so are his intimate friends, that his son ever incurred the disgrace of being sent down from St. Algate's.--Lyndon Society. i i T| _ . » t i * . av-v n c*r> Ul/|i UllUlUlUlUi kept upon the roads which led from the that now he could not get back to col Y 1U THAT direction. 1 LEG0 UNTil AFTEr 6 o'clock, and would "Look here!" cried the tempter clad lor the occasion in the flame-colored blazon of the Hon. Richard Gordon, "if ITFE get back by the 4 o'clock train we shall SOC all the ljest of the fun, escape •tiie proctors, who will not be on the look-out until the 6 o'clock train, and Charley's gate." certainly be reported for breaking his gate, even if his visit to Watlingbury escaped detection and lie did not, upon his arrival at the station, fall into the hands of the proctor, as was most prob able. " They were awful brutes, were ; they not ? I am very glad that I was ' there to be of some assistance to you." Nine Tailors Moke a Man. The word tailor, in the phrase "NinA tailors make a man," had originally (says an exchange) no sartorial refer ence at all. From Queen Elizabeth --who is said to have acknowledged an address from eighteen tailors by saying, "Thanks, gentlemen IMJUI--" toCarlyle, the saying lias been mistaken. The orig inal word is "taler." The exact spelling is not known, but it is connected with the "tally" or "tale" of Milton's shep herd; or it may be "tollers." In some parts of England on the death of a parishioner, the church-bell tolled once, three times, etc., according to the age of the dead person; say, once for an in fant, three times for a. girl, but always nine times for a man. " So passers-by would say, when the bell had stopped, "Nine talers make a man." THE Metropolitan Board of Works in London controls an area of 122 square miles, covered by a population of nearly 4,000,000. The royal parks cover L,742«acres, and other open spaces 1,676 acres. The largest of the "lungs of London" is formed by Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens, which to gether cover (548 acres, or a little more than one square mile." _ FRVKRS.---Feverish action is not the disease, but the violent effort of nature to remove existing evils, or impurity of the system. The action is not unlike that of a householder, to expel a robber from his premises, or the efforts of a horse to draw a heavy load--too heavy for ordinary efforts. This activity bears the same relation to the load that fevers do to the disease, or the impure state of the blood. The real disease, there fore, is behind the symptoms, or the manifestations of such disease, which we call fever. Fevers are one--their manifestations, many. If they are but the effortB of nature to avert a threat ened evil, they will manifest themselves in such a manner as will best subserve the object intended. And, since the de praved state of, the body is the V real cause of this abnormal or accidental action, the part most weakened by such impurity is the one to be the seat of the feverishness. If the brain has been over-tasked, weakened, the impure blood attracted to it, a brain fever may' be the result. If the lungs are specially weakened--like aij invading arnit--the disease is likely to attack a vulnerable point. This principle is best illustrated by a reference to eruptive fevers, such as the measles, scarlatina, etc. These ordi narily occur in early life, when they are the least severe, a&so many stages in the development of the youthful faculties.' These are grand purifying processes, or are so intended, and would generally be so, aside from the injudicious treat ment, or interference with nature's pro gramme. After a brief internal conflict, the assailants in the form of general poisoning of the blood--an excess of waste matter--are ousted, thrown to the surface in the form of eruptions, at tended by a decided discharge of mat ter, partially unseen. For this reason it is desirable that the eruption shall be as prompt, as full as possible, and kept active for the longest time. When this is not true, abscesses are by no means unu- ual, fiinishing up the suspended works, or doing it more effectually. (It is as foolish to check this discharge of mat ter, the sore doing the best that can be done under the circumstances, as it would be to drive the eruption of the measels back.) If heat or fever is caused by the unusual effort of nature to expel the foe, in the form of an erup tion, it is plain that we can aid her by any means by which that object is se cured, as by friction of«the surface, or even by the application of wet mustard cloths, which will frequently bring such an eruption to the surface in an hour or two. Warm drinks, so far as they pro mote perspiration, favor the same, care being Caken to «wipe the surface fre* quently, attended by thorough rubbing with a flannel. A small amount of acids, as the "Acid Phosphate"--will prove an advantage, promoting perspir ation. The lieat is resultant rather than a necossary element in nature's efforts of recuperation. Combustion and the violence of nature's recuperative efforts, increased activity--as violent ZEROISE promotes warmth--may be regarded as the two more prominent causes, the combustion being more prominent. It might seem that nature, failingin other effarts to purify the body, decides that combution--as actual ,as in the stove, is the best means. Hence this waste mat ter, more or less carbonaceous, is act ually burned. Consequently the action of the heart--that grand engine, the "mainspring of the !>orlv---IS unusually active. The blood circulates with in creased activity, the breathing is cor respondingly increased, necessarily pro ducing such heat. Indeed, these are the means ordinarily employed to sus tain the animal heat at about 98 de grees, fall., a necessary condition of life. When, therefore, this waste is all burned, the fuel exhausted, the heat subsides, and the fever has "turned." As wo should expect--if these princi ples are correct--the appetite returns after the "turn," the body is purified, and the health is better for a time, after the fever, than for the same time before for this is natural.--Family Physician. The Manufacture of Tiles. - ----- I Tiles, being a thinner ware than bricks, have to be made of a purer and stronger clay. They also require more careful treatment, but, the process of manufacture is not essentially different. There are many varieties of tiles, but for practical purposes they may be re duced to three, namely, paving tiles, I o6fing tiles, and drain tiJeis. In weather ing, the clay is spread in layers about two inches thickness during W'inter, and each layer is allowed the benefit of at least one night's frost before the suc ceeding layer is put upon IT.T^P Sometimes the process is affected by srins'iiine. The comminuted clay is next placed in pits and allowed to mellow or ripen under water. Then it is passed through the pug mill, and the tempered product cut in thin slices with a pieco of wire fixed to two handles, in order to detect any stones, and then passed through the pug mill again, after which it is generally ready for molding. TO take the case of pan tiles (hand molded) tlie molder turns the tile out of the flat mold on to the washing-ott' frame, on the covered surface of which, with very % W^IT hands, he washes it into a curved shape. The he strikes it with a semi-cy lindrical instrument called,the splayer, and conveys it on this to the flat block, where he deposits it, with the convex side uppermost, and removing the splayer, leaves the tile to dry. The tile is afterward beaten on the thwacking frame, to correct any warping that may have occurred, and trimmed with the thwacking knife. In the kiln, which is constructed with arched furnaces at the base of a conical erection called the dome, the tiles are closely stacked in upright position, on a bottom of vitre- fied pricks. The fuel used is coal, and bnpiiing continues usually aliout six «d6ys. In making pipe drain tiles, the clay is first molded to a pro]>er length, width, and thickness, then wrapped around a drum; the edges are closed to gether, and the tile is carefully shaped BY the operator's hand, sometimes as sisted by a wooden tool. Tiles as well as bricks can be iuade by machinery; with suitable dies almost any form OF tile may be thus had, which is produci ble by the advance of a given section of clay parallel to itself. In other ma chines pressure is exerted on the clay in a mold.--American Pottery Reporter. Lire and Let Live. Throughout all Germany (writes Con sul Flynn from Chemnitz) there is one golden rule, which is almost universal ly observed: "Live and let live." The times are never so bad but that all find something to do. Itis better to keep the people employed C!lan to support jails, penitentiaries, and poor-house*. If tli^FFE are fifty men idle and there is no way of utilizing their labor save by cut ting dowrt tlie wages of those who have work, the wages are cut down--general ly at the request of the workingmen themselves. But the great manufact- urers are not backward in emergencies of this kind. They would rather cut their profits down than that the indus trious workingmen should be driven in to idleness and the vice and crime which invariably accompany it. The capitalists, workingmen and laborers being in favor of a division of labor, the law, as a matter of course, steps in whenever possible, and enforces it. Thus the poorest backman, with the shabbiest vehicle and the boniest horse, is as certain to get his share of work during the day as the bes- hack man, with the finest vehicle at the stand. The difference between the earnings of the two is caused by the greater num ber of trips which the good horse can make. Charms Against Nightmare. • Among the charms iii use as a preser vative against nightmare may be men tioned tlie coal rake. Not very long ago. at the West Riding Court, at Brad ford, in a case of a husband and wife having quarrelled, the woman stated that tlife reason why she kept a coal rake in her bed-room was that she suf fered from nightmare, and had been in formed that the rake would keep it away. Lluellin (1679), referring to the power of coral over the nightmare, JHAS the following: ' ' . j, '"Some tlie nlirhtnmr'E hath prftpt, • • With that wclyht on th'-ir lueast, • - ' No rotnrnr:* of their hronth can pteSd! ^ ^ ;r Ui'it to lis the tali' in aild'e, ,>"* ' • We CRn take off our saddle, \ *•" ." ' Anil turn out the nightmare to ^rasse.*" ' Hence, it has been suggested, arose the popularity for children to wear coral beads--A practice which extensively prevails even at the present day. Au brey, in his Miscellanies, mentions a chairm which is perhaps nowadays as popular as in his time. He says: "TO hinder the nightmare, they hang in a String a flint with a hole in it by the manger, but best of alf; they say, hung about their necks, and a fli.ut will do that liath not a hole in it. It is to prevent the nightmare, viz., the liag, from riding their horses, who will sometimes sweat at niglV;. The flint thus hung does hinder it." In Lancashire the peasantry fancy that the nightmare appears in the form of a dog, and in order to frustrate its influence they place their shoes under the bed, with the toe/UJ)ward, on retiring to rest. Herrick, again, in his Hesperides, gives the following advice : "Hani* np hooks and shears to 8care Hencc the hapr that rides the mare. Till they be all over wet • With the mire and the sweat; Thin observed, the manes shall bo Of yonr horses all knot-free." The mistletoe is a popular charm, and when hung over the bed is said to ward off the nightmare. Hence, in certain parts of Germany, one of the popular names for this plant signifies "mare- branches." Alluding to German super stitions on this point, we are told that a powerful remedy against the pressure of the nightmare is to cross the arms and legs before going to sleep. Thun der-stones are also considered A good remedy, and some persons place them at their doors. A piece of German folk lore further tells us that in the pines, branches are often found quite curled together, having almost the appearance of nests. When it rains, persons should be careful not to pass under such branches, for whoever is touched with a rain-drop from one of these nests will in the course of the night be oppressed with the nightmare. Once more: in days gone bv it. URMONRS flint THERE numerous incantations addressed to saints, much used by the superstitious --an allusion to which we find in Cart- wright's plqy of The Ordinary (Act III Scene 1): "Saint Francis, and Saint Benedict, HleM.se this house from wicked wiirht, Vnmi the_Niirht.mn.rp smd t lit; Goblin,' Tluu is hiiiht, trnod fellow Robiu. KEI'P i t f rom a l l ev i l spirits, Fayries. WW/RL?, HUH and ferrets, From Curfew time A To the next prime"." This was. no doubt, intended to lie satirical--A parody on those which were genuine. Lastly, according to a Ger man idea which is not unknown in other countries, the nightmare creeps up the body of tlie sleeper. The weight is first felt on the feet, then oil the stomaclu and finally on the breast, when the suf ferer, completely overpowered, can no longer move a limb.--Harper's Weekly. The English Tillages. A comparison of the villages in Eng land will at once disclose the existence of certain elements in their names which are shared by immense numbers of them. A dozen or so of these are familiar to every one in the shape of word-endings, although notalways capa ble of being rightly interpreted. There is a list somewhere in Camden of many of these terminations, which is worthy the notion of others besides archaiolo- gists. Some few of these are intelligi ble enough, such as the "fords" where rivers were passable or berries existed; the "ports," the "bridges," and the "hams," which in effect may be regard ed as only the Saxon equivalent for "villages." Others are much more like ly to be misunderstood, such as "ton," which, although generally taken to be a corruption of "town," is really more antique, meaning originally, as it is said, a hedge or ditch, and so a forti fied place. Often, however, it is said to be equivalent to "dun," a mount which appears occasionally in France also, as in Cliateaudun. The "hursts" are woods; the "graves" are groves or caves; the "dens" are villages, the "holmes" PLACES surrounded with water, the "stoke" is A tree trunk, and is ap plied to places where timber was sold; the "burg" or "borough" is not, as many persons suppose, a town, nor yet a place where the earth has been excavated, but a mound or castle; a "bourne" or "burn" is not a boundary or limit, but a river. Then there are prefixes which are often misunderstood. The "aid," which so often reappears in different counties, is nothing more than "old," and "al" is often a corruption of it, though sometimes, like "hal" or "hall," it records the former existence of a "hall" of some kind. In some cases the prefix must be interpreted before it is possible to understand why it should have been so commonly used. Thus Tillages in England, and "Charl," or "Charle," of 23 more. Each of these words represents the old British name for a city. "Cliff" is the first syllable in 35 villages or towns; "Church" in 32; and "Kir" or "Kirk," which is the same thing, in more than 70. "Lang," meaning long, is the first syllable in about 90 villages, and SO is "King," which would very quickly be adopted by any place in which a royal person had resided. Hew the Indians Were Frightened Off. Fifty years ago, it is related, when California was under the dominion of Spain, a one-eyed commandant ruled San Francisco, who was the terror of all the Indians iu the vicinity. A Yan kee skipper traveling that way induced the-ftpaniard to purchase of him the then newly-invented glass eyes, and, to the fear and surprise of the redskins^ the commandant suddenly appeared with two eyes. This was too much for the "braves," so one of their number was deputed to assassinate the senor. He managed to gain access to his cham ber, and, on approaching the couch, was terrifi^l on finding the commandant sleeping with one eye cl< sed and the other wide open. The amazed Indian gave an unearthly yell and threw him self headlong from the window. ' How to Take Leave. "Anxious Enquirer" writes us how he shall take leave when he is making a call. "I never know how to get out of the room," he concludes de spairingly. "We judge from the style of hand writing, wording and oth^r interesting features, that Anxious is a young man and somewhat bashful, if not awkward, and v, e will simply advise him what he is not to do, inferring that he has sense enough of his own to adopt the omis sions. • ; Then, Anxious, we would urge you not to take IeuVe by way of the china closet; it is derogatory to your dignity as .well as to the china, and the family have been known to laugh on such oc casions at. the perplexity of the caller who fractures a tea set while looking vainly for the FRONT door. And, Anxious,, don't take leave by way of the kitchen; when you open the door that leads tliitlier . yon run great risk of braining the cook or housemaid who is on her Iviiees at the keyhole, and she will make life so burdeusome in half a minute that yon will wish you had never been born. And try if possible, Anxious, to avoid going down cellar when you take leave ; TLIER^ is a discouraging, musty smell abofit cellars that will make you feel faint and unhappy when you have fallen down the stairs and landed on the de bris at the bottom; then, too, the fam ily dog, the expanding and condensing kind that is let out at night and taken in in the morning, is often kept during the day in the cellar, and would be sure to resent any such intrusion. No, don'T take leave by the cellar. Never take loave by the window; it looks bad, as if you were in a hurry to go, a proceeding unheard of in the young man of to-day, and one that would stamp you as eccentric as cer tainly as if you wore boots and parted your hair on one side. There is another means of exit, but there are, objections against that. We refer to the chimney. No doubt there are moments in the calling life of a young man when the chimney would seem to offer a safe and happy retreat, a soo<-able avenue to the outer world, a flue to freedom as it were, but there are too many difficulties in the way; therefore, Auxious, do not take the chimney route. And never take leave by backing out like a circus pony; yoti will fall into the hat rack and over tfie Bagdad rug in the hall, and bark your shins on the newel post, besides frightening the household into fits. Don't hold on to the brim of your hat with both hands as if takiug up A contribution, wliilo you take leave bydigging your elbow into a briq-a-brge^clibinet and ejacula ting, "Musreally go thismoment--go' bye, will see you all again soon---ta, ta! really must go this time--come again soon you know--so long," etc., etc., while the family are individually saying to themselves, "Good heavens! will he woyar off 9 TIoV q|\m nr.-- no I. ho iian'f. --yes, lie is. Thank goodness, he has taken leave at last!"--Detroit Post. " . Trout-Flies from Love-Tokens. * A most extraordinary story of trout- flies'made from human hair was related to me by a friend of mine who is a man ufacturer of sportmen's materials. There used to be a gay young fellow in this city who made love to every young girl he came across. He must have been rather successful, for he always managed to secure a lock of hair from each one of his conquests. This young man had an equally strong passion--trout fish ing. He loved to fish for the speckled beauties of the brook aud muse on the many beauteous maidens among whom he divided the treasures of his heart. An idea struck him; he would have a fly constructed out of each lock of hair he possessed. He took his collection of silky love-tokens, gleaned from per fumed tresses, to the manufacturer of sportmen's materials, and requested him to make the desired flics. When fin ished lie placed them in his fishing pocketbook, each one attached to a card with the name of the girl and the date of the gift. His subsequent fishing was a long dream of romance. Even in their broiled state the trout had a halo of me mory about them which.gave them a fla vor for which Liicullus would have for feited an empire. He brought every conceivable shade, color, and kind of hair to be made into flies--black, light and dark brown, gray, white, golden, yellow, Auburn, and red, curly, wavy, and erinkey. In less than three years uiy friend made, him 150 trout-flies, which would bp at the rate of a new girl every week. He was asked one day which colored flies he preferred. In reply he said red flies were preferable to any of the others, and that in future he intended to confine his attentions to young ladies whose heads glowed with flame-like hues. In proof of this , lit}, married a girl with red hair, and had ten flies constructed out of one of her tresses. For some little time after his nuptials his heart remained true to his fiery- polled bride and his red-haired flies. One day, however, he brought my friend a lock of hair of a far deeper hue of au burn, and instructed him to make two flies, as he found, that the fish would no longer bite at his wife's hair. His bet ter half discovered the change of bait, and began to smell a rat. To make matters worse, he one day went to his Qffice leaving the key of his private desk at home in the lock. The lady examined the premises and discovered the abund ance of flies, to which he had only the previous day added his latest conquest. The wife returned to her mother that very morning, instituted proceedings for divorce, and gained her suit, the fljr- hook being produced as evidence in court. If you search the court records you will find full confirmation of what I have just told you.--New York Star. TAKING the human race as ft whole, says an exchange, it is observed thai races living almost exclusively on meat have L»een the most savage ones. Noth ing is so apt to transform a human be ing into a savage as to pay 30 cents ft pound for a roast and, then find it as tough as sole-leather. THE best rules to form a young man are to talk little, to hear much, to re flect alone upon what has passed in companv, to distrust one's own opinions and value others that deserve it,--Sir William Temple. ' IT is easier for you to take the moon beams out of your neighbor's eye than it is for him to find the mote ̂ IN your own. WTH ASP POPTT. "I OTTES8 m puph along," is what th* man with the wheelbarrow said. MAX is like a glass of beer. Blowing the top of his head off settles bim WHICH is the largest room in tbe world ? The room for improvement. THREE are no pumps where the oo- coanut grows, which, perhaps, accounts for the milk in it. I THE man who has been 'round with the boys half the night is likely to feel flat the next morning. "GIVE US a rest," was invented by Archimedes when he offered to move the world with the lever. THE New Jersey Enterprise has dis covered that the most aesthetic thing known is a cigar stump. It is all but. NoTHiNGt like being well up in arith metic. A Vassar collage girl has gone into half mourning. It is for a half brother. . • . "WHO shall decide when doctors dis agree?" We don't know who should, but we know; that the undertaker gen erally does. A YOUNG lady attending balls and parties should ahyays secure a female chaperon until she is able to call some male chap her own. AT Fort Worth a man dropped dead on entering an eating house to get his dinner. If the dinner was like most dinners you get at Texas eating houses* the man would have died, auyhow. in;ft short time.--Texas Siftings. ' » IT yon sleeplessly toss orfyonr pillow,<i,-- And lonir for a space of repose, Just be still as a tomb or a willow, '• And think of the end of your nose, ii.-VS1?: Bee that nev<*r a thought sroes i o wander While softly your eyelids yon close; And be sure that but one thintr you ponder-- Keep your eye on the end of your nose. "BREDDRF.N," said a plantation preach er, "I will now discourse to you ob de 'piatle ob Clover!" "No, Pomp," cried one of his sable congregation, "you means de epistle of Timothy." "No matter," replied the preacher, "any kind ob grass will do, so dat it be gooa fodder."--Texas Si/tings. FOOTE, dining at the house of Sirs. Thrale, found nothing to his liking, and sat in expectation of something better. A neck of mutton being the last thing, he refused it, as he had the other dishes, As the servant was taking it away, how ever, understanding thai there was noth ing more, Foote called out to him: "Hallo, John; bring that back again, I find it's neck or nothing." i * A CORRESPONDENT of the Springfield Round Table relates that years ago, Long John Went worth, then in Con gress, once told a Methodist of the* House, "I'm not going to vote for you again. You give us too much hell-fire in your sermons. Now there's a man at Cincinnati who promises to save the whole of us. He's the man for me." "Ah, Mr. Wentworth, but lie doesn't know you as well as I do, or he wouldn't undertake to save the half of you." A DISTINGUISHED statesman lias long been noted for his mastery of the En glish language. An answer he gave not long ago in one of the Parliament ary committees is an instance of this. Wnen asked if he knew the river Dee, the right honorable gentleman said, after a little hesitation, "Yes." Then seeing what a tremendous admission he had made in the, universal affirma tive, li(e addedXrThat is to say, I do not knowit"Scientifically, or geologic ally, but generally T do know the rive* Dee." ONE fine day as.an eminent advocate was arguing a most intricate and tire some case before the Court of Appeals he noticed that one of the judges was sound asleep, and stopped short. "Pray continue, Brother X." said the Chief- Justice, benevolently. "Thank your Honor, but I did not mean to finish my argument until your colleague has wakened up." "As you please," replied the Chief-Justice, "but I fancy my col league does not mean to wake up until ypu have finished your argument. French Paper. A SCIENTIFIC exchange says that if yott hold your thumb tightly over the muz- . zle of a gun you. may fire the gun off and the bullet will not injure your thumb in the least. This is a new idea and should be heeded, and any one who contemplates looking into the muzzle of a gun should place his face right tight against the muzzle, and he will escape injury. Science is doing wonderful things in this world, and maybe this new idea will be a popular and worthy one, but it seems not, " as every day some people are injured by guns going off and carrying destruction before them.--Peck's Sun. F. MqC., HOUSTON, Texas: "Please answer through your correspondent's column: "Is the earth solid?" We used to think it was hollow; that there was an aching void of emptiness in the center of it. The good old man who preached^ to us before we backslided into a printing office used to speak of this world as "a hollow mockery--an empty sham." About a week ago we stepped out of the back door of our office, at night; forgetting for a moment that the surface of "the hollow mock ery" did not reach to within four feet of the office floor. Since the moment we regained consciousness and found ourselves stretched out on "the hollow sliam" aud the office boy trying to wrench the lwfek of our neck into its socket, we have had a firm belief in the absolute solidity of the earth.--Texas 'ISIK"Imujs. - * The Extravagant Tailor. Gilhooly, who was very much in debt, happening to pass down Austin avenue, looked into a restaurant, and saw Snip, his tailor, with some friends, regaling themselves with some champagne and tempting viands. "Wliat does this extravagance mean ?" asked Gilhooly; who is remarkable for his impudence, as he stalked into the restaurant. " "It is none of your business t* said the tailor, defiantly. - , "Yes it is my business. Here you have been dunning me the last two years to pay you for that pair of pants you made for me, saying that you need ed your money, whereas, if you lived within your means, and did not guzzle champagne, you would not have to bother gent lemen by sending them bills. You would even have money to lend gentlemen who patronize you, if you were to give up your extravagant and gluttonous habits," retorted Gilhooly.* The tailor replied so impudently that Gilhooly has concluded to withdraw his custom from the fellow.--Texas Sitt ings. ' ,/ ' THE New York Commercial Advert tiser remarks: "If every man refused to marry until he owned a home, what ft wilderness of miserable old bachelors this world would become." The Ad- vertiser is all mixed up on this matter, It's the women who refuse to marry ft man till he owns a home, and it has got 1 to be a dazzler, too!--Boston Post.