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back t the orchard fence. l ' ws on deck must have floated ofi' shore on _____________________________._.a._.___â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"-â€"â€"â€"â€" __ ‘4 ‘ PEARLS or TBU YOUNG FOLKS. APPLE BLOSSOMS. l "Oh, aunt May '.” cried out Grace Man- , cheater in astonishment as she opened the door of her aunt's room, "where did you get those apple blossoms '.' It is only the first week of April 3" “They blossomed right here in my room, Grace," said aunt May, a street, happy-faced woman who sat in a chair by the table with abook in her hand. "Right here 1 what do you mean, aunt May? Are they wax ‘3 No, they are real apple blossoms {Goodness 1 don't I wish I had some ! “'ouldn't the girls be just wild to see me with a bunch of apple blossoms 1 Say, Auntie, what do you mean 2’ Did they blossom here. really? “Really, Glace dear. they did ; every year they blossom just at this time for me. You never have left your city home to come here at this season before, or you would have seen them." “Yes, Grace, you would," said Mrs. Manchester, who had entered while her sis- ter was speaking. She was tall andslender, with no look like aunt May except the quiet, cheerful expression. “I think for morethan twenty-five years," she went on, “your auntie has made the apple buds to blossom in April. Aunt May and I love apple blossoms even better than you do." “I don‘t believe you can like them any better,” replied Grace, laughing. “I just adore them. They are the loveliest things ever madeâ€"andjust now, too, when nobody expects them, they are too lovely for any- thin R” ‘“ afraid, Graée, you do not look at the flowers from true love for them,” said her mother 'ravely. “What you say sounds as if their Imauty were enhanced y the fact that none of the girls have them.” “They are beautiful to your mother and me, Grace, because we have old associations with them," rejoined aunt May. “No, dear, I can’t give them to you, for these especial flowers, every year, go as little missionaries to gladden sad hearts and give fresh courage to those who are cast down.” “But I am dreadfully cast down," said Grace in a doleful tone of voice and with an effort to look melancholy. “Don‘t you think I come under that head 1'” Aunt May smiled in spite of herself, though she shook her head. “You cannot have the flowers, Grace, but if your mother is willing, you shall have the story of the apple blossoms and of my April pledge.” Mrs. Manchester nodded, and Grace threw herself into a lounging chair and turned wonderineg towards aunt May. “A great many years ago,” said aunt May, “before you were born, Grace, a little girl lived in this same great house, with a. loving father and mother, kind friends, and much that money could buy, but she was a very lonely little girl. She was tired of playing alone, tired of studying alone and reciting to the governess who came every day, tired of taking her little sled in winter and coasting down the hill by herself, tired of playing croquet and all the other games little girls like so much to play togetlicriand which are ‘no fun’ alone. “The orchard stretched away behind the house as it does now, and when spring came and the old apple-trees were covered with the sWeet painted blossoms, her delight knew no bounds. “ "They almost talk to me, mamma,’ she used to Sa ', and for days she would be so bright am happy with the love y apple blos~ soms in the old orchard that her father and mother could but note the change and speak (if it. .’ “\Vas that you, mamma C" said Grace. “Of course it wasn’t, though, for you weren’t all alone. There was aunt May.” Mrs. Manchester and her sister exchang- ed amused glances and aunt May went on : “One day. one autumn, a poorly-dressed little girl looked in through the slats of the fence, with a wistful expression on her face. Little Dorothy was feeling very lonely that day." “Oh, it was mamma, then l” exclaimed lracc; “but where were you, aunt May ‘1 Had you been sent away to school ’3'" “\V’ait, Grace,” said Mrs. Manchester, “and let aunt May tell you the story." “ \Vcll, as I was saying, Dorothy was feeling very lonely. She had pilcd the [Laws up and jumpcd on them, and buried herself inthem, and then raked them up again .Thcrc wasn‘t much fun in that. She had cliascd ii wild rabbit with no success, and now she was sitting down on her heap of leaves. “ “Oh, dear ! I wish I had somebody to play withf thought she : and just at this~ moment she lniikcd up and saw tlia: littlc wan face pccping lictwccn the slats of the fence. “ linruitby wasn't afraid. Slic “as nevci- afraidof anything. She rose from her bed of lcavc< and Wu kingr slowly over to the fence, slic mid, ‘ Arcyou lonely. too, litzlc girl ':’ “ 'l‘llL' little girl - vc will call lit r Madge Winn-bled. It was u gruvc, quiet nod. l’oor c'rii‘ ' 3 id '. she had ncvcr liznl much to m.‘~.l.c lic‘.‘ lifc bright. and smiles did no; conic --;‘.~iil_\. . " ‘ l'm lillli'l_\'. tun,‘ suiil littlc lbii‘ii‘ii}. ‘ But my mummu dun". likc nc to pin"; with (itiicr littlc girls. \\'ill your lz‘iHlilk‘i‘ ii-i you pl.iy with other lilil" girls i “ .\l.iil~*t' nmldml again. but limczliv did no: my .iiiylliin.’ inurc. 'l'li-sy ‘ I :unl liuikwl ‘ lt'~' your to SpuLl; now.‘ said li-ut‘otliy gravely." “ lluw wcll you l‘L'llle‘IHlll'l' ‘ mic. er‘. Manchester. laughing. " It Hill“. Lure been A funny sight." “ \\'iiy! was Madge you cried Grace. “ \\'.is that you. aunt Mu ": yuu :irc maiuinit's sistci‘---» why don't - you 1 ?;~ plain it '1 I don't likcmystcrics." " Yes. dear. it was 1." said aunt Mav. “ \\'c won't need to call the littlc girl Madgc any nu-rc. lint you‘ll spoil my story if you are impatient. May looked aft lion-thy cqunlly gmvvly. and then obeyed. She said. ‘I think I should like you. You don‘t look crow~ like Jim and Kate Suwvcr. They're always iiglitiiig.' . " ' I don't know them." answcrul llorntliv in that gmvc, stately little nntnucr which has iievct‘ left lit't‘. “I don‘t know uu\‘~ body. l wish I did. I \iisli my momma Would lct you come in here and play with inc. 1 think I \vill go in and flak lu-r. \Yait litre." " Don-thy \vcut slowly back to the house \vhere she found her mother just putting on her bonnet to go out. ‘ Let a lit to girl in here !' exclaimed slic when Ikirotliy had made known her request. ‘ Most certainly not 1 \\'hy, Dorothy. I trust you don't wish to clay with every little girl you nit-ct. (I i you t’ " Although Dorothy did not say. she C(7- tainly did uish to. I o .n rim . :ximil at c. "ll utlicr. Hii :i .. _ . .. ill.‘ . Iill'. lint. l l I | l l l | l l | l . i I l l l l l i ' \\l .i’. lit-came of your mother l i say'.” asked the little girl. “ Dorothy shook her head. " 'Maybe she will some day,’ said the child, ‘and I'll come and look at you every day. It is better than seeing Jim and Kate tight.‘ And she went sorrowfuIIy away. " She did come ain, and every pleasant day. Little Dorot _v looked for her, and many a half-hour they spent talking through the fence. May learned all about Dorothy’s loneliness and her love for apple blossoms. Dorothy learned that May too, was. an only child. Her father was not living, and her mother was almost always sick, and always very poor. " “'hen winter came, it was too cold to talk long, and just before the spring came on, Dorothy was taken ill. She took a violent cold. and did not seem to gain strength as it left her. Little May came every day to the fence and waited until she was chilled through. As she lingered. she watched the old ap le-trees and saw the buds had grown a bit arger. “When the blossoms come, Dorothy will be well,” said she to herself. “One day, as May stood watching the trees, she suddenly started, and then she turned and ran for home as fast as she could. All breathless, she entered the room, where a delicate-looking woman sat at the sunny window. “ ‘Mamma, mamma!’ exclaimed she excitedly, ‘ would the apple-trees bloom like the pussy willows in the house C" “ ‘ I really don’t know,’ said Mrs. Sher- man thoughtfully. ‘ Perhaps they would. We might try. But what is the matter, little daughter ':‘ ” ‘01, mamma !’ cried May, ‘will you really try some? I can get some branches. You know that little girl that lives in the big house. She's lonely. She don’t ever have anybody but me and the apple blossoms to play with. She says the apple blossoms are angels with pink and white wings, and she is very happy when they come. Maybe she’d get well, if she had the apple blossoms now. \ 'ill you try, mother?’ “ ‘ Yes, I will try. You may bring me the branches. Be careful to pick out the roundest buds, for the long ones are the leaf-buds.‘ “ May ran with a happy heart, and soon 'cturned with her hands full of apple- branches. Mrs. Sherman put them in jars of lukewarm water and stood them in a sunny place. It 'as May’s duty to change the water and see that the jars did not get chilled at night». Mrs. Sherman’s room was warm and sunny and May soon' saw the buds growing larger and larger.” “Now this gets to be real interesting,” said Grace, “ for now I know how ’tis done, and I can ‘go and do likewise.’ But do go on, for I don't know how you are mamma’s sister yet, and I always supposed you were real sisters,” looking at her mother reproach- full '. “lAt last one morning a true apple blos- som was there. May could not wait for another. She became bold in her certainty that now Dorothy would get well. \Vrap- ping it carefully in a bit of paper, she mounted the stone steps of the big house and rang the bell. “A servant opened the door and looked rather surprised. But that did not discon- ccrt May. ‘\\'ill you please give this to Dorothy and tell her I’ll soon bring her some more angels ‘1’ said May, in her quiet way. “The girl took the little paper, gave a stare at May and shut the door. ‘I never asked hoy ' she was,’ thought May, ‘butI will when the next one comes out, and she’ll be better then. The angels will make l‘ei‘ well, I know ;’ she and Dorothy [had called them ‘ungcls’ so often that the name came to her naturally. “In two or three days May had another branch, larger and fuller than the first. She vrupped a, paper around it and took it as be- fore. This time she remembered to ask after Dorothy, and the 301‘ out said she seemed brighter. ‘Of course she’d seem brighter,’ said May, ‘tlie angels have come so early 3’ “The next time May went the girl asked her into the hall, for Dorothy’s mother \‘vish- ed to see her. “Ah 1 now her courage failed licr. Even the thought of the angels, and bow Dorothy loved them did not help her. She wondered if Dorothy’s mother knew how they talked through the fenceâ€"and what if Dorothy’s mother should tell her not to do it again i “ But no! A tall, graceful lady came swift- tly across the. hall and taking her in both arms kissed her. “ ‘My dear little girl,’ she exclaimed, ‘you have saved the life of your darling llor- otby‘.’ " ‘I know tlic'ungcls would do it. ma‘am, said May gravely. “ "l'lic f‘ angels !’ you dcarcliild !" “ ‘ Dorothy always said the apple blosâ€" soms wese angels, lixpluiucd May sliyly,ili'a\v- iug lack. “ ‘ \Vcll, angels or apple blosmms.‘ sztid Mrs. 'l'lmrnton. ‘ li'irotliy liaid nointcrcst in anything until the flowers cuiiic. Tllllil she ' insticcd tlicm : and when you brought licr new. ::lic was awaiting lllL‘lll and now she is strong": and if your lildllllllll. will let you, you shall conic in and 5c: licr to-morrrw. H-wul-liv. little girl. until to inorriiw.‘ " .‘lnd did >lic takc you away from your w , Iii-Eln-rztnil .nlnlil you 2'” cried (lrucc. “ And a" “Uh. no: nothing of tlic kind then. Mrs. ' 1 lhorniun made my unitlier's life happy while r‘lw livid. Slic had me come to the house In lam; with ll-irotliv's governess and to play vxizli licr lnncly little girl in the or- \‘lllllitl. “'l'in- next year my mother died and then I came here to live. But before she grew so ill. she said to inc one day: ‘Muy, there is a good deal that can be done. to cheer lonely um without ricln-s. You will like to do ‘Hlnetllinu when Iain gone in memory of me. Why not each year blmim out. tin;- apple blosx-uuis and give tln-m where they will be messench of hope “And so. Grin-c. every year since my good mother dicd. I have cut the choicest twigs from the old orchard and brought the buds in bloom, and with the thoughts of her and the memory of the good the ‘angcls' once did. I send them out on errands of love to tlinse who need them." "Oh. Auntie 3" said Grace, with tears in her eyes. “I didn‘t know all this before. They are ‘nngcls,' aren't they? Ministering spiritsf \Vitliout them just then my dear mamuui might have died, and you might have been left with no one to care for you 2" and the bright young girl looked very thoughtful as she irstcd licr fiend on the arm of Ille- chair. “I thinkl shall start an apple-blossom .‘lie \veniiei be: way nus-"nix: tux r‘lic €Iklhll.l.‘â€"l\\ ide Awake. - 1 5 - an ml summons 01‘ OLD OCEAN. _..â€" Two Strange Adventures at Sea. The ancients knew so little of mid-ocean that they invented the most improbable stories concerning the big waters. Novelists have already drawn the long bow in writing of the sea, and the sailor has told such sur~ prising yarns when in the mood that any- thing out of the usual must now be sworn to or included in a Government report to find believers. I know plenty of seafaring Illt'Zi who could relate wonderful adventures and not depart from the strict letter of truth. but they realize that landsmen would set them down as liars or ridicule their state- ments. and it is therefore inipoasible to draw them out. Nothing is too wonderful to hop pen on land. but a singular occurence at sea, no matter if sworn to iy a whole ship's com- pany, is regarded as suspicious. I am, how- ever, going to describe some strange, queer sights I have seen with my own eyes on the vasty deep. and if the reader cannot accept them he still has no right to charge me with exaggeration. In the month of June, 1859, I was second mate of the ship William True, on a voyage from Liverpool to the Cape of Good Hope. \Ve were within 400 miles of the Cape and at least 300 miles offshore, when, just as the men were at breakfast on a bright and pleasaiit morning, with the ship going at the rate of four knots an hour, A GREAT COLUMN OF “'ATER suddenly rose high in air right (lead ahead of us and not over a quarter of a mile away. This column reached to a. height of fifty feet, and the base seemed to take in an area of half an acre. It rose with a loud “s-a-swish !" which could have been heard two or three miles, and fifteen men saw what I am describing. The column held itself upright for a long minute, and then fell flat, and you'can judge ofthe commotion when I tell you that we were boarded by a sea so heavy that it was like to carry us to the bottom by its dead weight, and that we were three hours in pumping the last of it out of her. The water for five miles around turned a brick color, and hundreds of fish floated belly up around us. Among these were dolphins and sharks, and we saw a whale about forty feet long with its head partly torn away. \Ve ran right over the spot, and were as badly shaken up by the great seas as if we had been lying-to in a. hurricane. \Ve knew what had happened. There had been an explosion at the bottom of the seaâ€"just such an occurrence as created half the islands in the Pacific. \Ve laid the ship to and put out a boat and made soundings. Just where the column had formed we found bottom at eight fathoms. This depth continued fora circular distance of 100 feet. Once outside of it we COULD GET N0 BOTTOM with 400 feet of line. There had been a heave-up, but not high enough to create an island or an obstruction to navigation. The circumstance, together with a chart and our soundings, was reported to the port officers at Cape Town, and later on to the proper Board at home, and while these officials gave no full credit for our work and ordered aman-of-war to verify our sound- ings, three of our English papers, which got hold of the fragments of the story, ridi- culed our sworn statements, and intimated that we were all drunk on that occasion. A year later, not having returned to Eng- land with the ship, but having shipped on a Government brig making a survey of the mouths of the Niger, which, you know, fall into the Gulf of Guinea on the west coast of Africa, a curious adventure befell us. \Ve had been in and out of the southerly mouth, and were standing ofl‘ shore to avoid a shoal and fetch the next one, when, ten miles off the land, with the tide running out, the wind died away and we came to anchor on good holding ground sixty feet below. This was shortly after noon, and the anchor was hardly down before a sailor who had been sent aloft with a glass to look out for native craft reported one in sight dead to the cast- and only two or three miles away. At that date the natives along the Guinea coast, and especially abouttlicmoutlisof the Niger, were exceediu 'ly hostile toward all white men, and our rig was well maimed and armed on that account. We had on two or three occasions been obliged to fire into native boats to keep them off. Afte ‘ a bit we could all make out the craft which was slowly approaching, but nomuu, oven with the best‘glussuboard, could satisfy liiuisclftliat he had ever before seen one like it. It came within a mile of us and then stopped, and after a long look through the glass the Cup- tuin decided that it was no craft at all, but a. great log or raft which had been brought off with the tide. This matter having liccn settled, and the thing coming no nearer, we gave it no further attention. The calm continued during the afternoon and evening, and as the weather was opprcs- .‘ivcly bot, everybody was idle. \\'licn night cumc. tllu brig was left in charge of an (illicer and the anchor watch, and iiotliiic; occurred to alarm us inlil about an llllilz' before daylight. 'l‘licu .\ VOIL'F. si'iiiii-rdx (77:11-21) out in .il-Lrni. and this was filllfl‘i'ft'li by snarls nnd growls und liurricd f-‘nitstcp.»=. 'l'liocxbin doors and skylight wcrcopmi to admit the air, as was also tlic slide, tullne fo'custlc entrance. Some one rurzlicil down the companion way and shut and b-in-d 11ml doors, and a minute. later, :is we turned out of our berths, WU learned what wasgning on. The officer of the watch said we \vcrc boarded by twolions, who had drifch down upon our bows on what he believed by the smell to be a dead \vliulc. The two sailors had made for the fo'castle and drawn the slide, while he had made for the cabin to close the doors. The thing seemed so improbable that we were ready to jecr him. even though some. of us had heard growls, but before any one could doubt that the ofiicer was tclliug the, l sober truths, we heard the beasts raving along the deck and stopping to raise a great row ill the water cask. A heavy sea. could not have torn it from its fastenings, but tlic lions accomplished that feat in short ordcr. The gentle heave of the brig on the quiet ! sea tlieu rolled the barrel about, and as tho 2 water run into the scuppers I Tm: mums LAI'i'EIi 11‘ FF with low growls of satisfm-tion. We saw nothing, but our ears told us all this. Our noses were soon called into use to give us further information. A disgusting odor floated down through the sky-light, and after a few sniffs the Captain said : i “If that isn’t a dead whale alongside then I am mistaken in the smell. I never heard that lions cared for whale flesh, but the fel- blazing sun has made them terribly savage." \‘o'e felt that we could do nothing until daylight came. \Vc lighted the cabin lamps. so that the lions might not leap down through the skylight. which we. could not close from within. and then waited. They managed in lap water enough to slake their thirst. and then they Went roaming up and down. in search of food. They could find nothing. and as daylight appealed their ill humor in. creased. They trotted up and down. growl- ing in a way to civi: oxr: rm: snivi-ziis and it was lucky that all of us were under shelter. When day had fairly come we stood under the skylight with our guns. and pre- sently one of the loius came trotting aft and showed his head over the frame. Three of us fired at the some instant, and with such effect that he fell back dead. The death of one took the courage out of the other, and i he ran away to the port bow and leaped up \on the carcass of the whale which still he d 1 this camaas. and their long exposure to the to us. \Ve heard him run along the decks, and for that matter his tread was heavier than that of any man's, and after a bit the Captain stole up the companionway and dis- covered and reported the true stazc of affairs. Then three of us made shift to get into the shrouds of the mainmast, and from our safe purchase we also made an end of the second beast, which was the female lion, and some- what smuller than the other. Although the two pelts were sent to England, and the manner in which they had come into our possession was vouched for by Government officers of the civil branch, the Liverpool Mercury was pleased to come out with the statement that Gulliver was a truthful man in comparison with any man aboard a brig. 'â€"â€"â€"â€"-â€"+â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"-â€"â€"- Great Britain's Fisheries. A correspondent sends us the followin v :â€" Tlie coasts of Great Britain, including the adjacent islands and North Sea, have for centuries furnished vast supplies of fine food hsli. \Vhat the conditions would have been to-day had the same policy been pursued that obtains in this countryâ€"the wholesale slaughter of food fish and other game in sea- son and out of seasonâ€"it would not be diffi- cult to conjecture. I will now quote from reliable statistics as to the quantity of fish brought in to some of the. English markets ; time and space would not permit of my go- ing over the ground full . \Ve will take Billingsgate fish mar et in the city of London, which has been devoted to the sale of fish alone for ‘200 years. The daily average is from 400 to 500 tons, from the lordly salmon down to the sprat. The bulk of these fish comes from the east coast and North Sea. During the herring season the daily average supply in the above market is 500 tons. In the season of 1888 are landed on the coasts of Great Britain, representing a money value of $6,000,000. The Scotch fisheries are said to be the great- est in the world, employing 12,000 boats and 100,000 people. The chief kinds of fish are salmon, haddock, herring and ling. The quantity of haddock shipped to Billingsgate for curing is so large that the authorities have constructed a separate market for the handling of the same. Iliavc not mentioned the Irish fisheries which are very extensive and only need capital tofurther develop them. I mentioned Billingsgate as being the oldest and leading market in this particular line ; but, as many of your readers will know, it does not represent the entire country. Every large town possesses a fish market, and many of them two or more, where the fish are disposed of to the fislimongers, who supply the public. The city of Liverpool has built a. second market to meet the increased demands of the trade ; licr supplies are drawn from Scotland and Ireland chiefly. Every 'ariety of fish in season can be purchased in all these markets at very moderate prices. Shellfish I have not mentioned. I do not wish to trespass further on your 'aluable space. I have endeavored to prove that the fisheries of Great. Britain are not quite ex- liaustcd, _+_.._____ Do Heads Grow With Age? Sonic amusing letters have appeared in a daily contemporary in regard to an alleged steady increase in the size of Mr. Gladstouc's head, which, it is said, is rendered munifcst by a. progressive enlargement in the size of the but required to cover it. The corres- pondence exhibits an extraordinary igno- rance of well~asccrtuincd facts ; for, if there is one thing which would be acknowledged by all illllllullllSlS and physiologists, it is that the nervous system, like otlier parts of the body, undergoes atrophy with advanc- ing ugcwan atrophy that pervades every tissue, and is as apparent in the thinning of the vocal chords that. alt-sin the voice to “ childish treble,” us in tlic :vlll'llilk shanks for which the “youthful lune, \vcll saved, ‘le‘x'H'. world inn wide.” No reason can bu. ,vssigrucd wb; the brain should escape lll'.‘ ‘gcncral cl :i:.,:c lllill affects flu) digestive and ; flic _ iand f:-.cilllic< attain their highest «:xcellcncc izit or l.cf4ii‘(: iiiitlu‘lgr‘. and from that lllnH l‘oi'lli l‘Xlllllll, only :i sfcndy t‘cclinc. To compare lvll‘. lllflllfvltnflf Willi Nzlptilt-mi. is absurd. 'l'lic Inn-id of Napoleon may llil'.'l' grown liclwccn twenty and forty-five, bc- ! cause his. brain was grcmly cucrcircd during the lust ten years of tin: past century and :tln- iird fun of the present: but no calls lliztvu liccii llllttl',‘ 011 Mr. (ilzulstollc of late i years at all comparable to the strain on the mental and bodily powers of the French I'lllllii‘l'in‘ during that eventful period. The ossification of the sutures of tlic cranium ‘ practically prevents increase of the volume I of the brain in advanced life: and cvcu granting some slight incrcusc, such increase would be compensated for by the attenua- tion of the cranial bones which is Well known to occur in old ugc. _ A change in form but there in size. â€" ~T/u. Lflul“ (. may lic, nouc w.â€" i Water in Sleeping Rooms- l'i'csb cold water is a powcrfld absorliant , of gases. A bowl of water placed under the 5 bed of the sick room and frequently changed is among the Valuable aids in purifying flic air. The room in which the London illdcr- nien sit. is purified by open vessels of water a placed in different parts of the room. It can be easily inferred from this that water standing for any length of time in a close room is unfit for drinkin". Experiments of this kind are not costly. It has frequently been observed that restless and troubled sleep has been corrected easily by lacing pn 1open vessel of water near the heat of the )L'( . from 500 to 700 tons of herring pcrday were , .t . shipped to the Billings rate market alone. one (1.1" s ’t‘ , More than a quarter mi lion tons of this fish It is true that friendship often ends in. "rcnlaimy SYSU‘HIS iilikc. lls lllll'llllllt‘éév rcspcctiug “'llqu :1 similar story is i'cl;itc«l,' to . The greatest luxury 3 man can allow glumscli is marriage. I Pleasure is the flower that fades ; remem- lbt‘ancc is the. lasting perfume. ' Disirust a woman who speaks of licrvir- l tue. A gre; : writer does not reveal himself here and there. but everywhere. To learn to die is better than to study 'thc ways of dying. \Vliy should sorrow be eternal? Men surely weary of pleasure. why should they not weary of sorrow‘; By being coutcniptiblc. we set men's minds to the tune. of contempt. That own a woman should be faultless . . . .is an arrangement not permitted by nature. which assigns to us mental defects. as it awards to us headaches. illnesses, or death. He is best served who has no occasion to put the hand of others at the end of his arm. \Ve mingle in society, not so much to meet others as to escape ourselves. ‘ Self is the great anti-Christ and untiAGod m the world, that sets itself up above all else. Society is the master, and man thc scr- vant. Tolerance does not mark the pro vrcss of religion. It is the fatal sign of its i eclinc. 7 v . I‘o-morrow is a satire on to-duy, and shows its Weakness. Illusion is brief; but repentance is long. \Vlieu one looks on the thousand and one poor,. foolish, ignoble faces of this world, and listens to the chatter as r and foolish as the faces, one, in order to lave any proper respect for them, is forced to remember that solemnlty of death, which is silently \vuit< mg. Love is not altogether a delirium, yet it; has many pomts in Common tlicrcwitli. I call it rather a- discerning of the infinite thh the finite. Eycry be vinning is cheerful ; the tlircslio old is the p ace of cxpcctation. A beloved face cannot grow ugly, because not flesh and complexion, but expression, created love. Opportunity has hair in front, but behind she is bald. If you seize her by the forclock, you may hold her ; but if suffered to escape, not Jupiter himself can catch her again. Passion is always suffering even when gratified. Absence in its anxious longing and sense of vacancy IS a forctaste of dcutli. -Th:aâ€"fincst day-of life-is that. timid-cl; love, but love in friendship never. Moral supremacy is the only one which leaves monuments, not ruins, behind it. Simplicity of character is the natural re- sult of profound thought. Troubles, like babies, grow larger by nursmg. Men are women’s plaything ; women are the devil’s. Hc‘has half the deed done who has made a beginning. -â€".â€"â€"â€".â€"_. PERILS 0? THE SEA. Fishermen Adrift on the Banksâ€"A Schwinn or Sinks In Five Minutes. CANSU, Nova Scotiu, May l."i.~~'l‘lic Cup- tain and crew of the schooner Ossi ice of Gloucester, which was wrecked ofl' saztc's Harbor on Tuesday night, reached here on the steamer Princess Beatrice. The Captain reports that the vcssel struck during adcnsc fog and sank in less than five minutes. The crew with difficulty saved their lives. The Ossipee \ 'as bound to Cape North for fish. Accidents among the fishing fleet on the lanks are reported. A dory which had strayed from the Hattie E. Wooster of. Gloucester on Middle Bank on the 5th inst. reached here yesterday. It contained AL frcd Cameron and Fred \Vulsli. The men had drifted about in the fog, cold, Wet and hungry, for three days. Later in the day another dory belonging to the schooner Marguerite of (llouccsttfr found its way through the breakch to one of the outlying islands, and its occupants. Frccmuu I'Iarkiu and Ilcn Amio, wcrc cared for by the fishermen there and were after- wiird brought to this place. They left their vessel on (,Iucro on 'l'ucmlay morning to get their trawl. After securing .‘L dorv load of 1 fish they started to return to the vessel, but soon found tlicy were lost in the fog. They decided to row for lurid, and after being Elihu: sixty hours without food or fire l'(fll"ll(ill ln-rl'. 3 And He was a Canadian. .\ pull‘wli-z story of disaster, ling caring lmz-ri-r null suprcnir- lici'oism comes from Loki: 1 I'iric. U12 lllC edge- of flu: icc: pawl: on flu: hllUl'“ :il'. upturned, \vutcr-lnggcd and rapid- ily sinking bind, lwui'ing :L liulf-fi'ozcn, half- ..,. _- *n . _- islnrvl-«l mun, W4Hpi1'lflnl up tln: other day. ; llc bud bci-n in tho luv and water for dnvs, illllil waâ€"s H) liczirly dcad that his rccovdiy will bcntlt-nllcd by lln: loss of Hill": of llili . frozen limbs. When lussctoutun tlu: trencln-r- ‘nus wnlcr lH" bad a companion, who lisiilcd from Siincoc. Tln-ir boat wasov'i-rturncd and they clumbcrcd on her bottom. For hours they clunglbcrc, hoping for l'ttntllllf. 'l'liI-v discovcrctl that their joint \vciglit was trio ! great. for the water-logged bout. If both r4» maincd by her, both would die when idw l went down. (Inc might stand a chance of being saved. The otlici' mun coon and calm- lly looked the situation in the face, “I have :no relatich dependent mime, no one i“) ' mourn for me," be Fiiid at liiht, “\vliilc viii; 'hav-s a mother and sister who look toy... for support. Good-byte, old fellow. I'm going, to nicct my Creator." Then, with a kilwit ‘ prayer, he slid into the chill \vntcrnand (Ila appeared forcw'r. There was heroism of the highest type » the heroism of sncrilimz Born With Teeth. The old story of Richard III. of England having been born with teeth llflx‘lxflfll reviv- ed by the recent birth of a child to parents of German origin in Quitman, Georgia, which possesses acomplctc net. They are well four. ed, milk white teeth, but show signs of soft: ening alrcad ' and early decay, and are in: closely crowt cd together as to make the child’s mouth almost a deformity and oulto be shut with difficulty. ' _‘n n A... A