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plakiedef. J. TAH SLIKE, Editor * Ptblhher. McHENRY. : : T ILLINOIS. SOCK A BYE, BABY. "Rock a bye, baby, in the tree top, I When the wind blows the cradle will rockj When the bough break*, the cradle will 11 Down tumbles baby, and cradle, and all." M - liocfe a bye. baby; the meadow's in bloom; w#*1 Laugh at the sun beams that dunce in the room; E c h o t h e b i r d s w i t h y o u r o w n b a b y t u n e , • ' 1 Coo in the sunshine and flowers of June. by; _ • tne mother love Kings; Bock a bye, ba (Over thy cradle r; ns softly it swings. Brooding and cooing at even or dawn, Whs.t v.iil it do when the mothei is gone? I Bock a bye, baby; so cloudless the skies, 1 Blue as the dentins of your own laughing eWit :•% 1 Sweet is the lullaby over your nest, •' U , I. I That tenderly sings little baby to rest. .Bock a bye, baby; the blue eyes will dream Sweetest when mamma's eyes over them bean; Never again will the world seem so fair- Sleep little baby--there are clouds in the ^jptv - ~ . B o c k a b y e . b a b y ; t h e b l u e o y « h » w i l l b n r r^g ^ . -i • And ache with that your manhood will leam; Swiftly the veara come with sorrow and care, : . With burdens the wee dimpled shoulders must bear. : %$ S , Rock a bye, baby; there s coming a day -ii. Whose sorrows a mother's lips can't kiss away; C |̂Day8 when its song will be changed to a moan; .. Grosses that baby must bear all alone. " , \ .Bock a bye, baby; the meadow's in bloom, . • > . "5riiMay never the frosts pall the beauty in glim; 1 Be thy world ever bright as to-day it is seeb, Bock a bye, baby; " thy cradle is green." --Burlington Hawk-Eye. A WINTER SERMON. ' THOU dwellest in a warm and cheerful homo. Thy roof in vain the winter tempest lashefc; while ho use leas wretches round thy mansion roam, Upon whose unsheltered head the torrent splashes. 'Thy board is loaded with the richest meats. O'er which thine eyes in sated languor wander, vMany might live on what thy mastiff eats. Or feast on fragments which thy servants squander. "Thy limbs are muffled .from the piercing blast. When from thy fireside corner thou dost aally; -Many have scarce a rag about them cast. With which the frosty breezes toy and dally. 'Thou hast soft smiles to greet the kiss of love, When thy light step resounds within the por­ tal ; cSome have no friends save Him who dwells above, s 3lo sweet communion with a fellow mortal. - "Thon sleepest soundly on thy costly bed, Lulled by the power of luxuries unnumbered; ^Some pillow on a stone an aching head, Never again to wake when they have slum­ bered. 'Then, think of those-who, formed of kindred clay, * * Depend upon the doles thy bounty scatters; -And God will hear them for thy welfare pray-- They axe His children, though in rags and tat- tere. --Household Words. WHEN HELEN FAINTED. Miss HELEN LORIMER dropped her handkerchief; Richard Warner picked Hip the dainty lacse trifle and gave it 'back into the little pink-gloved hand from which it had slipped. In return for the service he received a smile, a bow, and a musical "thank you." " A very fine-looking fellow--that young Warner--don't you think so, Mr. •Stickney?" she asked, arching her pret­ ty brows in a very patronizing manner, ;as her father's clerk passed on. "Passable," replied the young man addressed, lifting, with exquisite tact and grace, an eye-glass to the weakest •of his weak eyes, and scrutinizing War­ ner through it with one of those long, •aristocratic stores peculiar to well-bred people.' " But who is he?" Now Mr. Stickney didn't ask the •question for information. He knew, as well as he knew that the habit of wear­ ing No. 4 (ladies' size) gaiters was giv- , ing him some most excruciating corns, that a gentleman about whom they were conversing was only a salaried •clerk in the employ of his pretty com­ panion's wealthy father. 44 Oh, he's nobody, to be sure! But :father has some very eccentric notions, and insists upon our asking him to all our parties, as much as though he were a young Lord." Mr. Warner had made the circuit of "the room again during this conversa­ tion, and was approaching the place where they stood--this time with Miss Adelaide Lorimer on his arm. There couldn't have been a greater contrast had some little roseate morning cloud taken it into its head to run away with Its grandfather, the midnight, than there was between the above-named - couple--Warner, with his tall, proud figure, in the suit of well-worn, but glossy, black broadcloth; his dark, handsome, manly face and magnificent black eyes -- and Adelaide--slight, sylph-like; sunshine in her robes of some white, gossamer fabric, in her violet eves, rose-tinted cheeks, and soft curls floating to her waist like a golden mist. They looked well together, neverthe­ less, and Miss Helen angrily bit a line of milky little teeth into the rose of her under lip on seeing them in each other's •company. She had been thinking for the past few minutes what a nice per­ son Mr. Warner would be to flirt with. She was tired of the yellow mustache, weak-eyes and insipid gallantries of her devoted Augustus, and though she in­ tended in the course of time to become Mrs. Stickney, unless some suitor with an extra thousand happened along, she couldn't see why for that reason she might not entertain herself by breaking the heart of her father's handsome clerk; in the meantime. What right had Miss Adelaide to step in thus unceremoniously between her and hep intended victim"? It was down­ right mean, and she wouldn't submit to it. Somehow, by some careless motion of the lady's wrist, her jeweled fan was jostled from its place, and sliding down her long skirt of rose-colored satin, fell directly at Mr. Warner's feet as that , gentleman was passing. Of course he could do no less than disengage his arm from his companion's ana restore the misplaced article. (Mr. Stickney had turned his head for fear of an in­ troduction), and of course he saw no attempt at fascination in the beaming glance vpth which Miss Helen's superb eyes acknowledged the politeness. Of course, too, he failed to be aware of any ' art in the way that charming young lady managed to engage him in a senti­ mental conversation, or any coquettish maneuver in the skillful manner in which it came about that almost before lie knew it, Miss Adelaide was prome­ nading the room with Mr. Stickney, and her haughty sister was clinging, a bewildering and affable substitute, to the sleeve of his plebeian coat. * f|ph,had arrived# ^Waifierhad Perhaps, however, he noticed the li® f.o the ^ousejamf t^kejl fiir a pri- tle shadow of disappointment whici flitted over Adelaide's *""" " few lines on paper; called his errand- boy and put it in his hand. Miss Helen Lorimer's hour of tri- the evening drew to found no chance to speak with her again. How could she know that it was not his inclination, but Miss Helen, that held him captive P At any rate, he muttered to himself in the solitude of his chamber that night, * "How provoking it was! Helen's face may have the most artistic beauty, but Adelaide'8 is sweet as an angel's. I wonder when Lorimer intends to raise my salary?" At the same moment "Miss Helen, languidly disrobing herself, was re­ marking, with a wearisome yawn which stretched her little rose of a mouth to a width that might have surprised her delicate and fastidious Augustus, that 44 that Warner was a presuming fellow, and came near making love to her. She would take him down a little, if she died for it. She did wish Stickney would dye his mustache;" while Ade­ laide, listening with burning cheeks, snuggled her golden head down deeper into tne great downy pillows, and let the embroidered sleeve of. her night robe fall across her face in such a way as to conceal the suspicious glitter of some­ thing very like to tears on her silken lashes, and which made her blue eyes look like May violets after a dash of summer rain has sprinkled the mead­ ows. Mr. Richard Warner went to the Postofficeone morning and got a'letter. A very important-looking document it was--thick, awkward ana with a foreign post-mark. He had only two corre­ spondents in the world--his mother and his Cousin Lizzie. And he turned the strange epistle over two or three times in his hand before opening it, knowing that it came from neither of them, and wondering where and who it could be from. He broke the seal in the street; read a few lines and turned white; a few more and turned red; a few more and started on a dead run down the street, making be-crinolined ladies stare and bundle-laden errand boys dodge one side; knocking the breath out of two or three corpulent gentlemen's-bodies, and giving a broad leap over the back of an old apple-woman who was stoop­ ing by her fruit-stand to pick up a stray bit of change, and who looked up just in season to see the gentleman's undignified coat-tails fly like a pair of black wings around the corner. The next thing known of him, he was standing in the counting-room of his employer, Mr. John Lorimer, panting, flushed, trembling--trying to stammer out something, between laughter and tears, about giving up his situation-- $100,000--old aunt--East Indies--dead --left him heir, etc., etc. The amount of it was the poor clerk had suddenly become a rich man. But when he repeated his intention of giv­ ing up his clerkship and entering into business for himself--Mr. Lorimer de­ murred--hesitated a moment--slapped him on the shoulder--called him a capital fellow (a facetious allusion to his unexpected acquisition of capital, probably), and offered him a partner­ ship in the firm of Lorimer & Co. Mr. Warner looked out of the win­ dow and whistled; looked up at the ceiling and sighed; down to the carpet and smiled; mto Mr. Lorimer's face and blushed. " On one condition he would accede to Mr. Lorimer's proposal." "* ^ " What was it?" "That he should allow him to enter into two partnerships at the same time --one mercantile, the other matrimo­ nial--one with himself, i. e., Mr. Lori­ mer, the other with Mr. L.'s daugh­ ter." "'Twas agreed if the daughter had no objections. He meant Helen, of course P" " No, Adelaide." " But he couldn't spare Adelaide. She was nothing but a child. Helen was just the right age to marry, and beside---beside " , Mr. Lorimer stammered there. He( didn't like to say that Helen was twen- ty-four years old--goin^ on twenty-five --and that he was anxious to get her married off. No, indeed; that wouldn' t do. ' He scratched his head and looked Euzzled for a moment. His face lightened ail at on6e. " He believed Adelaide was engaged to a young lawyer--couldn't say cer­ tain. Mr. Warner needn't look so crestfallen. Helen wasn't engaged. Was certain^ the handsomer of the two. Would make tile best wile, he thought." Mr. Warner did not think so, but was too polite to contradict. Hinted that Helen would not marry him. ••Yes, she would."" "No, she wouldn't^ 44 Trr: Yi or ani) ana tl interview wit! her. Ofe covrse'she pretty face, a* Mew w|$t M had to say, She Wouldn't a close, and hfe W afraid wage# ai>**hi!»g, from her new gold bracelets to her camel's-hair shawl (cost $500) that he had come to offer himself. Wouldn't she wither him with her disdain--the presuming beggar? A servant came to the door and hand­ ed her a note, just as she was getting ready to descend to the parlor. She glanced at it, and threw it on the toilet table. "Father's handwriting. Shall have time enough to read/ it by-and-by; but this fun is too good to be delayed." She swept down the stairs and into the richly-furnished drawing-room like a Princess. It was Justr as she expected. Mr. Richard Warner made hCr a plump offfer of his neart, hand" and fortune, couching his proposal in words rather too cold to give her much of a triumph, and dwelling at much length on nis poverty. Richard fidgeted uneasily in his chair during the moment ol silence which fol­ lowed his offer. Poor fellow! He be­ gan to be afraid she wojuld accept him in spite of everything. • But the lady' aiirfcl/wetfds set him at rest on that score. " Sir, is it p-o-o^-sible that you have misunderstood my condescension in this way? You are very p-r-e-sump- tious! My father shall hear of this, and I fear you will lose your situation. Shall I call a servant to show you to the door, or can ycu find it alone?" " Don't trouble yourself Miss Lori­ mer. ilbeg leave to inform you that it was your father's wishes and riot my own that brought me here,'1 replied Warner, with a smile so strange pnd self-possessed as to bewilder his com­ panion. 44 Any information which you can give him will therefore be unneces­ sary. If I had not been sure what your answer would have been to my offer, I should never have made it, as nothing could be further from my vreal desire than to call you my wife. If you please, I will speak with Miss Adelaide a mo- ^4vit| a bl|zing. tike bitfflbd co- quett(fleft ljpr jiufcefcthefl vi<pi*, and ran up to her room to drown in a flood of angry tears, the shame, mortification and wonder which her interview with Warner had occasioned. An hour later, Adelaide, stealing in,' blushing and happy, to tell of her be­ trothal to Richard Warner (for she, like the dear, true-hearted little girl she was, had accepted him in spite of his supposed poverty), found her just tearing open her father's note, and go­ ing up beside her, leaned over her shoulder, and the two sisters read to­ gether: s j, /'HELEN: If Warne# qffera himself, accept him. He's just come int»i possession of a splen­ did fortune. I've no tithe to explain. 1 shall take him in partnership next week. Be sure and accept him. 'lis the beat mutch in town. "J. LOBIXKB. 44 P. 8.--Old Stickney has failed." Helen fainted. " Try her and see. Mr. Warner did not like to--knew he should fail. A bright idea struck him all at once. " Might he have Ade­ laide if Helen would hot marry him?" "Yes." "And Mr. Lorimer wouldn't say anything to Helen about his sudden in­ heritance?" "No--no." " He might go right up to the house and ask her, then P" " Hadn't he better wait until after dinner?" Mr. L. thought so. "No--he must go then. He shouldn't take any comfort until his mind was settled." " Well, run along then." And he did run along. And Mr. Lorimer, looking after him, rubbed his chin with the back of his hand in a dis­ concerted kind of a way, and muttered to himself: " What a deuce of a hurry the boy is in. The jade will refuse him as sure as the world--and I shouldn't wonder if the both of them did. If he only hadn't made me promise not to say anything about his good fortune." He, stood with a little vexed shadow on his face for a moment. Then an­ other bright idea was born into his brain. "But I didn't promise to write any­ thing about it, did I? Ha, ha! John Lorimer, you're an old one. You'll fix it yet." He went to his desk and dashed off a Before and After Marriage. WHEN a young man begins to feel especially drawn toward a maiden-- and by more intimate acquaintance this interest ripens into aft'ection--all the politeness and respect he can command will be .manifested when in her pres­ ence. The best traits of his character are oalled out to .entertain and honor her; to dr&w closer the bond of union he desires to see established. Both, if the interest is mutual--perhaps with no intention or desire to make a false impression--are in that exalted state of mind which shows them to the greatest advantage.* Particularly is this true as regards the lover. To grAtify the slightest wish of his chosen no ef­ fort is felt to be wearisome--no labor a burden. All self-denial for his lady­ love is accounted as a joy and honor. His very life seems too small an offer­ ing. But how^ is it Vhqti the priae Is se­ cured, andthe twain are made one P Are those graceful courtesies, sweet amenities, kind and watchful atten­ tions, through which the coveted prize^ "was led to an exalted estimate of the9 lover's character, to be continued by the husband, growing brighter and holier as the years roll onf Will the respectful attention and honor whicii a true gentleman yields to woman be more scrupulously accorded, be held more sacred, when bestowed on the wifei 44 Then will sweet peace wreathe her chain round them forever," and the love which budded in youth, and grew deeper and broader with the after years, will be matured and perfected in old age, holding them as one till sepa­ rated by death, they meet again in that better world whereof Love is the light. But if marriage brings indifference, or a feeling of ownership which is sup­ posed to exonerate a husband from all attention to his wife--to release him from the commonest civilities--which he dare not refuse to other women, then there is little hope of true happi­ ness in that household. The first year of married life is doubtless in some respects the most critical. No young people ever become fully acquainted with each other during the period of courtship, or engagement. There is a glamour over them that hides any dis­ agreeable or inharmonious peculiarity, and every one has some, that will not show well in a strong light. We daily see young people accept the mutual duties of the married state profoundly ignorant of the life upon which they so thoughtlessly entered. The hus­ band may understand what is right or honorable among men, but without the first idea, especially if he,has not been brought up with sisters, of what respect and attention a wife has a right to ex­ pect, and he is bound to give as an hon­ orable gentleman. We claim for wives a degree of re­ spect and attention beyond what a true gentleman gives any other lady; but we also claim that wives shall be governed by the same rule. Both should be affa­ ble, courteous and kind to all with whom they associate, but for each other there should be a deeper respect and deference than is ever seen in their in­ tercourse with others', however worthy; yet in far too many cases politeness and good breeding , are folded away with the wedding finery. But till the children that are growing up around us are taught the saereaness of the obligations those assume whose hands are joined in wedlock, the horribly dis­ gusting records of cruelty and crime that flu our daily papers will continue, and happy homes be " like angels' vis­ its, few and far between." Aside from the present misery and strife, what will be the condition of so­ ciety, or of our country, when the chil­ dren of these unhappy marriages come to the front and take their places as rulers of our country and fashioners of society ? If the mother is vain, foolish, irritable and self-willed, in nowise seek­ ing to make home happy, never yield­ ing to her husband's judgment or car­ ing for his pleasure; or if she seeks to live peaceably and make her family happy but every effort is met by cold­ ness, indifference or sneers from her husband, will not the fruits of such ex­ amples be shown in the future charac­ ter and lives of their children? There can he no happy marriages or happy homes if love, pure and sancti­ fied, is not the foundation. So few young people know what love is! A little romance, a good deal of pride or ambition, hovers about them, and they call it love. " Of all the sad things in this world the saddest is the leaf that tells what love meant to be, and the turning of the leaf to tell what love has been. One all blossoms, the other ashes; one all smiles and gladness, the other all tears and sadness. Nothing is so beautiful as the temple that love builds; nothing is so miserable as the service of that temple if God be not in it." "If there be anything that young wedded love should have as its first vision, it should be a vision of a ladder between the earth and heaven, and the angels of God ascending and descend­ ing, and God over all blessing it. Then there is hope. Begin your nousehold life, begin 3*our wedded life, with a firm hold upon God and purity and Heaven, and there is hope for you; otherwise, sad is your fate!"--Mrs. H. W. Beecher, in Christian Union.' Youths' Department. FACTS AND FIGURES* IN Wisconsin last year there were 836 suicides, 4,126 deaths by accidents, and over 14,000 criminal acts. THE Peruvian mines that Henry Meiggs was tunneling when he died have yielded $500,000,000 in silversince their discovery. THE biggest thing in the way of re­ cent financial transactions is the ad­ vance of 1,000,000,000 francs by the Bank of France to the French Govern­ ment, at 1 per cent, interest, for rail­ road purposes. WE do not demand in the West as expensive farming as ii\ New England. But we need thorough work in plowing, harrowing, planting and cultivating. Well pulverized soil, with straight rows, looks good.--Iowa State Register A CREMATED dog weighing fifty-four pounds gave two pounds and two-and-a- third ounces of ash in seven and a-half hours. Therefore it is computed that a man weighing 160 pounds will yield six pounds and six and a-sixth ounces of ash. RUSSIAN cotton-spinners will obtain, in time, a very important position in the manufacturing world. More than 8,500,000 pounds of cotton now come yearly to Russia from Central Asia, chiefly by the Orenburg Railway to Nijni, Novgorod and Moscow, from Bokhara ana Khiva. Large quantities also begin to come from Turfan, and of a quality quite equal to any short cot­ ton of the United States. A COMPANY has been organized in New Orleans to ditch, levee and drain 10,000 acres of marsh in the Parish of Terrebonne, about sixty miles west of that city, located between the Morgan, Louisiana & Texas Railroad andthe Gulf, bounded on the east by Bayou de Large and on the west by the Atcha- falaya River and Bay, ana Bayou Black on the north. The body of marsh, bounded as above, comprises about 600,000 acres. THE surviving soldiers of the Mexi­ can War are estimated to number about 6,000; the widows of Mexican veterans. ,4,000; surviving soldiers of the=ieguiar army participating in that war, 2,700; soldiers and widows of the Black Hawk, Creek and Seminole Wars, 3,700, all of whom are provided for un­ der the bill recently reported favorably by the House Committee on Invalid Pensions. Their aggregate pensions at $96 each will amount to $1,286,400 per annum, but this sum will, of course, be rapidly diminished as the beneficiaries of the proposed legislation average sixty years of age, ana in less than two decades few will remain to answer roll- call. THE New York Herald savs: "The undermentioned facts and figures will serve to strengthen an impression, and which will gain ground among the thinking merchants of the trade, that, come peace or war, the position of the breadstuff market is a healthy and sound one, and that in the immediate future values are more likely to ad­ vance than to retrogade, especially if farmers hold their own. Taking the returns of twelve of the principal ports in the United Kingdom, the total this year amounts to 18,160,000 bush­ els, against 11,024,000 bushels in 1877, and 17,960,000 in 1876. Compared with last year their surplus at present is about 2,160,000 bushels, the greater portion of which is lying in London granaries, and cannot effect that coun­ try at large as if it were distributed among the several outports. On the other hand, Glasgow shows a falling off on the twelve mouths of over 800,000 bushels, while Liverpool and Gloucester have augmented about 320,000 bushels, and Dublin and Bristol about 200,00Q bushels respectively. As a set-off against the increased stocks the float­ ing supply of wheat and flour is at least 760,000 bushels below that of the corresponding period in 1877. Accord­ ing to latest advices, the quantity on parage consists of 9,280,000 bushels, compared with 17,024,000 bushels. Of the foregoing amount, 5,600,000 bushels are California and Oregon, of which not more than 2,000,000 bushels can reach the United Kingdom before the 1st of March, assuming that the ships make the voyage in four months and a half." fBBER LITTLE CMICK8. T&BEK little chicks, ao downy and neti, Went out in search of something to edli Ter-wit, ter-weet! ;? Something to eat! And mon they picked up a strnw at wbemt, • Said one little chick, " That belongs to BM!" Said the other little chick, '* We'll see, we'll tiMf 44 Ter-wit, ter-weet! It is nice and sweet,," Said number three: " Let us share the tieat!" One little chick seized the straw in his hill, And was just preparing to eat hi« •fill When the other chick v." . Stepped up so quick. • * -! He hadn't a chance for a picnic"pick/ *^5' '*#• .'VJ They bulled, and they tn^ed . the downy things: Ana, oh, how they flapped theu baby winos! 4' Ter-wit. ter-weet! Something to eat! . Just please let go ox this bit of wheatl^ j ' v Fiercer and fiercer the battle grew, >•»*->. Until the straw broke right in.two, . , 4 And the little chicks K? Were in a fix. •' And aoiry enough for their naughty tricks, : : For a sancv crow has watched the fight. And laughs," Haw, haw! It serves yoa right!" So he oaatches the prize From,before their eyes. And enrsr the hills, and away, he flies! --,fo*tphine Pollard, in Htwmrw, ' How Johnny Saved Train. the Railroad "I DON'T suppose, mother* little folk like me can do very much in this world. It don't seem as if 1 could do much good," and Mrs. Tomkins' eight- 3Tear-old Johnny planted his chin on the {>alm of his chubby little hand and ooked up into her face. She smiled, and gave Johnny a pleas­ ant look as she suspended the play of her bright knitting-needles. "I shouldn't agree with you there," she said, 44 Johnny.. Little folk can't do so much in themselves, but add God's strength to a little boy's weakness, and I think one can do a great deal." Johnny sat in silence a little while, looking into the crackling, open wood- fire, and then said his prayers and went to bed. The next day, on the edge of evening, Johnny was down at the railroad sta­ tion. Boom, boom--rattle, rattle--dtn$r, diny--choo, choo-- Oh! they had a noisy time, the cars and the locomotives, dashing about, whistling and ringing. Trains were coming and going at a great rate. In a little while, it was more quiet, and then came the train of which Johnny's father was conductor. Johnny called out, 44 Here I am, father!' and glad enough was a man wearing a blue cap, decked with gilt stars, to get hold of Johnny's hand. Mr. Tomkins, when the passengers had left, stepped back into the cars, and Johnny went with him. 44 Stay here, Johnny, in this seat, and I will eome after yon," and Mr. Tomkins placed Johnny in a warm seat near the stove in a rear car. The train stopped over night at that station, and Mr. Tomkins thought he could safely leave his little boy in t^ie oar minute or two. From that station down to the next, at Rowe's Factory, it was a-down-grade all the way. Start a car at the station above, and it would jog along itself, going more and more rapidly, till it reached Rowe's Factory, where the Srade changed. And what should ohnny'8 car conclude to do but start off for a little trip on its own account to the factory P The brakeman had carelessly unshackled it, not understanding an or­ der given him, and when the locomo­ tive ahead happened to back the train a little, it went Dump against the rear car, and started it cn an undesirable journey. Johnny was startled when he looked up and saw that the car was in motion, and a good deal frightened when, see­ ing nothing before or behind the car, he knew it was loose, and cruelly run­ ning away with him in the dark! Just then he caught the flash of a sharp, red light away down the track! His heart gave such a jump! He knew enough about the trains to un­ derstand what it all meant. " A train! a train!" he thought, 44 and we shall surely go"--Johnny hardly dared fin iah the thought. If he had, it would have been, 44 go--crash into one an­ other!" What could he do? There came into his mind the words of his mother about a little boy's weak ness and God's strength. He dropped on his knees there in the aisle of the car, and asked God to help a little boy in a runaway car. , He opened his eyes, and saw away down the track the sharp fiery light. One light made him think of another. There was his father's red lantern all lighted near the stove. Why couldn't he wave it at the car end toward the approaching train? Wouldn't the en­ gineer see it P He snatched the light, ran to the end of the car, and there he stood on the platform, waving the lantern. 44 What is that?" said William Mar- ston, looking from the cab window of the locomotive that was thundering along, bringing on the evening express. 44 A warning ahead!" said he to Jones, the fireman. At the same time he shut off the steam, reversed the engine, put on the air-brakes, and whistled the danger-signal. What a sharp, shrill cry! " What is the matter P" said the pas­ sengers, and a lot of black heads went bobbing out of the car windows, like turtles coming to the top of the water 44 Danger!" called one to another, as they saw the light ahead waving. The express came to a stop, and then commenced to back, back, going faster, trying to get out of the way of Johnny's car, that was now rapidly dashing for­ ward, the red light swinging steadily. Away went the express train in safe­ ty beyond the station at Rowe's Fac­ tory, and Johnny's car was switched on a side-track by a station hand, and came at last to a stop, as the grade changed at the Factory and slanted up again. When the passengers of the express, stepping out, saw a little fellow with a reef fight on the platform of the run­ away car, and heard his story, cheer after cheer for him went up in the stillness of the night. A purse of money for him was quiok- ly made upr but that was little to Johnny compared with the comfort he took in thinking he had saved perhaps Rand, in Youth's Companion* •TW* W»j«-A Suggestive Dialoiie. MAT sits at a table with an open before her. Nan walks to and fro study­ ing aloud. Nan. (Spelling rapidly.)--B^l4-g+<r- e-n-t, b-e-l-i-g-e-r-e-n-t. (Going , to May.) Oh, be good to me, May, and itiear this spelling-lesson--this dreadful, dreadful spelling-lesson. May.--How many words have you? Nan.--Only six, but they are so hard. X have spelled them over and over twen­ ty times, and I ought to know them. May.--I have the same six words. I am studying them now. Nan. --What a story. You are read­ ing the Dictionary. | * « May. (Taking the hook.) Til hear your words now, and mark them right or wrong. Spell belligerent. Nan. (Rapidly.)--B-e-l4-g-&r-e-n-t: wag'n' war. May. (Marking.)--What does that mean? , Nan,--Oh, I don't know. I give the definitions as they are in the book. Wag' n' war? Paying the soldiers their wages, I guess; I doivt know. May.--Baccivorous. -a ,> Nan.--B-a-c--s-i-v-e-r-o-it-s : sobdst- ing on berries. May.--Why don't you say eotfn$r ]Mir- ries? Nan.--Because the book says subsist; and I don't know what that means. May.--Suppose it said subsisting on roots--would you think that was right? Nan.--0f course I should. How could /tell? a hundred livee, thit might h*v?!>eeii > had the express trail hashed into runaway ear, and everything been pitched down the steep So much for adding Gild's strength little fellow's weakness.--JS. A. to a J * ^ m - •"•A- •i ! $ May.--I'll tell you by-ai^d-by. Spell belladonna. Nan. -B-e-l-l-e-r-d-0'n->*-&r e night-shade. ... May.--What is that? „ > Nan.--I'm sure I don't know. Does it mean darkness? . May.--Not exactly. Spell benevolent. Nan. --B-e-n-e-v-o-l~a-n-t: kind. May.--Circumlocution. a! & Nan.--S-i-r-c-u-7n-l-o~c-u-t~i*h»f 3 ffjs cuit, or compass of words. t A May.--What is that? Nan. (Impatiently.)--It's the defini­ tion--that's what it is; and that's what we are marked on, and I learn thwgpi as they are in the book. I told yoa SQ jbe- fore. May.--Don't be vexed, Nan. B Nan.--No; but how many did I spell correctly? May.--Not one, Nanny, after all| your spelling them over and* over and i! over again. Nan.--Too bad! Well, let me have the book; I'll try them again. May.--No, Nan, come and sit here and study them with me, my way, since you see your way has failed. Nan. (Goinep tojjthe table.) --Where is your spelling-book? May.--I don't need it 1 copied the words carefully from jnv spelling-book into my blank-book. Now I'll show „ you my way. Turn to Belligerent. Natf.--Here it is. • -wll/i May.--What is it from? Nan.--Do you mean this: lum, war, and gerentis, waging? * May.--I mean just that. Now, how many Ts in bel-lum $ See that it is j gerentis, not gerantis. Now say bel- lum. Now say ge-rentis. Now say Bel-lig-erent, slowly. (Nan does as bidden, each time.) Now spell Bellig­ erent. (Nan spells it.) There, young lady, you will never misspell that word again; you can never forget how it is spelled, now that you know why itiaap spelled. N'c#W' tarn to Baccivorous. Nan. (Turning.)--From Bacca, ber­ ry, and vorare, to devour. That seems like strawberry time, doesn't it? May.--Now, look carefully at the ttoo c's in bacca, and see that it u wr»re. Now spell. y Nan.--Baccivorous. Good! . > May.--Now for Bella-domta. Nan.--Bella-donna, feeatitHtil lJUiy! that's pretty. * May.--Now, never spell her belter again; and, Nan, don't yon remember the bushy plant by the road sides, with the purple blossoms and poisonous scar­ let berries? that Is night-shade. May.--And so you will find with all the other words, in Ihis and other spell- ing-lessons, that the best way to learn them is to become acquainted with them. You will find that Bem-vpknt means to wish well--which is, of conrse, to be kind. Nan.--And eireumhhntHm. May.--You will find that that is from circum, around, and locutio, a speak­ ing, and that will help you to remem­ ber not only the meaning, of, but the way to spell the word. Nan.--It is just elegant! Til learn all my spelling-lessons your way, in future, ft seems a little like work, at first, but when I remember my way of spelling over and over and over, it re­ minds me of the old proverb, " Lasy folks take the most trouble," May.--And a good proverb for nnf ay is, 44 Whatever is worth doing, £1 \v\ J J way worth doing well."--National Journal ot Education. --A memorial of King Philip, the Narragansett warrior, has been eel np by the Rhode Island Historical Society at Mount Hope, in that State. A large bowlder on the summit has been marked with his name and the date of his death, the 16th of August, 1676^ in large let­ ters, and in the valley below, where he fell, a granite block three feet high has been erected, marked with a suitable inscription. 1 --A Boston artist has woAed eome of the hair of the two cows of the Smith sisters of Glastonbury, Conn., which have been sold so often to emphasize the convictions of the sisters on wom­ an's rights, into representations of flowers, which have t>een framed and set up for the admiration of the advo­ cates of woman suffrage who visit the sisters* | |THB New York Street-Cleaning De­ partment during the year 1877 swept 7,082 miles of streets in the city, re­ moved 733,111 loads of ashes an Am,- 042 loads of street dirt; 86,995 loads of snow were removed and carted away; the expenses incurred for laborers «M cartmen were 9612,819.88. T v J