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, s ,*-vrw^Pî Wi m, "i%'>~ i v'f% " 1Z> V ** ^ yi',-e **-« iwpwwwa'i'i .v'<wv WKreipHiarrisH® !. f- idtcuiw IMaiudcalcr f -•& 1 VAN SLYKE, Editor IIHI Publisler. - . /Lliijois. lloHHNRY, m • "̂ t̂""' ' *1 „THE WILLOW TREE. ^ ( Know ye the willow tree ,* Whoso gray leave# quiver, |6flV-"> Whinperiiii; gloomily .' fr' To yon jml<* river; •\l Si lAdy, at even-tide i' ' Wander not near It, '-" They say its branches hide A sad, lost spirit 1 Once to the willow tree A maiden camo. fearful, - Pale serine i her cheek to bo, Her blue "yes tearful; Soim as phe'saw the tree Her steps moved fleeter. No one was tlit-re- ah, mat . No one to meet her I •- •"ftUti Qui®!1 heat her heart to hew ?<$¥? The far lull's chime : .^4^SToil from the chapel lower Sz^ The tryeting time ; . But the red sun went down '• 'ji« In golden If-* . And though she looked round. Yet no one came! •' ' Presently came the niglrt, Sadly to greet her-- Moon in her silver liglifc, Stars in their glittet1; ; \ ,£ 'Then sank the moon awny . Under tho lriUovr. AStiil wept the maid nlone--• ' There by the willow! . Through the long darkness, By the stream rolling, • ; «|,VvtHour after hour went k- v„-'wy* * Tolling and tolling. " J# »•, / I.ong was t be darkness, .r.'-J- Lonely and stilly; ' Shrill came ttie nig lit Wind, , Piarcing and chilly. . . Ehrill blew the morning broczt Biting and cold. Bleak p ers the g ay dawn , Over the wold. • . Bleak over tho moor and stream Looks the gray danrn; ' Gray, with dishevelled hair, • Still stands the willow there-- The maid is gone! Dom ne, Domino! Sing we a litunv-- Stag for poor maiaen hearts broken and woary. Domino, Doijiine! Sins we a litany, W»il we and weep we a wild mis^rero! THE DOCTOR'S TALE. It is thirtv years since I put my shingle up. I had a very little money, sojiad Matilda; we were desperately inwove with each other--so much sq that we really could not afford to wait; so Matilda and I got married, I lay in wait for patients behind my office door. Like a hungry tiger (figuratively speaking) I cried aloud: "Ducky, ducky darling, come and be killed." But they did not come*- The ducks--1 mean the patients-- merely said "Quack!'^ (figuratively speaking,) and passed me by. They evidently looked on my shingle as a danger signal. But I soon got a large practice among the poor, and those who could not or would not pay. „ They appointed mc their body physi­ cian. I need hardly add that it was a purely honorary post. Now, there was a rich old maiden lady who lived opposite us; she was an eccentric but charitable old woman, and her naftte was Glumper , --Clarissa Glumper. There was no chance of a woman like that coming to me for advice. Dr. Dulle was .ier medical attendant; he seemed to be everybody's medical attendant that ^"was worth attending. My Mood used to boil witliiu me with indignation ' whenever I saw his mud-bespattered carriage and pair tearing about the neighborhood. One afternoon, I saw Ifh Dulle's coachman pull up at Miss Glumper's door, and Matilda watched him through the blind. "Jack," she said,-"Excitedly,1 "he's only stopped five minutes; I timed him; and, oh, Jack! whehf he came out, he was as red as a turkey-cock. « Perhaps he's apoplectic." added Ma- ^Jtilda. with a wistful sigh. "Oh, Jack!"' cried my wife, after an inter­ val of a few moments, "there's the footman going post-haste for the medicine," and then she suddenly clutched my wrist, her face grew ashy pale, and she hissed, in a hoarse whisper: "Oh, Jack he's coming here. Quick--quick!" cried Matilda. In an instant she had carefully regulated my cravat. There was a tremendous ring at the door. Of course, as ill-luck would Ifhve it, Mary, our servants was out; so, my heart treating wildly, I opened the door myself, and tried to look as un­ concerned as possible. "You're to come across to the missus rat once," said the pariSipered menial, • in a patronizing tone. "Is it very urgefctr"' I «fid, looking at my watch. J 'tft's a matter of life and death," said the man, with a vulgar grin, which I could not understand. "I will attend to it immediately," I said. |r l had been smoking, so I took some tincture of cloves. Matilda sprinkled my hair and whiskers with eau-de- Coiogne, I thrust my instrument-case nto one pocket and my emergency- case into the other, and then 1 tried to walk across the street in a dignified manner, and of course, failed mis­ erably. The footman, who was await­ ing my arrival, was still grinning ma­ liciously: he ushered me at once into the drawing-rooiu, where, by the tire, sat an old lady in black, sobbing bit­ terly. It was Miss Gluruper--the eat Miss Glumper herself * re j'ou the young man of the name Pestfe?" she said. I am Dr. Pestle, madam," I re­ plied, in my haughtiest manner. "Quite so, quite so; I am sure I beg your pardon, Dr. Pestle," said the old lady, still sobbing copiously. "Dr. Pestle," she said, very solemnly, "are you a man of the world?" "A mystery--evidently a my^ery. "Madam," I began, "I have never divulged a professional secret " C5"We are wasting precious time, Dr. Pestle," said the old lady, interrupt­ ing me; "I believe her to be sinking fast. She's all I have in the world, Doctor. You won't mind seeing her, I will you, as a favor?" "Madam," I began, "as a matter Of common humanity----" MShe isn't human," she said. The old lady was in deep grief, and rtie.carefully lifted a shawl which covered something that lay upon the sofa. On the cushion was a fat pug- dog, panting convulsively. "Dr. Pestle," cried the c!d lady, ••only save my darling's life, and there's nothing I won't do for you! Is there hope?" she added, in a voice of agony. . f ."While tfKre's life there'3 hope, ilfodam," I said, oracularly, I whipped out my emergency-case, •Ad I attempted to administer a reme- V-t'M dy to |ny unfortunate patlent.- ^he beast tried to bite me at once. " "That's a good sign, madam,M I said; "a capital sign. He'll require care, great care," I added, "the great­ est possible care; but we must do what we can for him." "Dr. Pestie," said Miss Glftmper, ieprovingly, "Flora is a lady dog." - "Quite, so, quite so, dear madam^' IreplM; "that's what renders trie case so much more difficult. If, madam," I went on, "I can have her under my own eye, I might be able to do a great deal for her," I said. "We'll make up a bed for you, with pleasure," replied Miss Glumper. "I beg you'll not leave her for a single instant, Dr. Pestle. Expense is no object, I need hardly add." "Madam," I said, in my best pro­ fessional manner, "she needs ab­ solute change of scene;rest,seclusion, and--er--the usual remedies," 1 added, vaguely. "If jou will per­ mit me to remove the little patient 18 my own residence, all that huuian skill can do shall be done for her; otherwise," I added, and I looked un­ utterable things, "success is well nigh impossible." Miss Glumper clasped hier hands in agony. "It's so hard to part with her, doctor," she said. The matter is for your considera­ tion, madam," I remarked. But may I come and see her?" ex­ claimed Miss Glumper. No, madam," I said, sternly; "the excitement of such interviews might prove fatal Jo the patient's life." "Oh, Flora! Flora!" cried Miss Glumper, and she draped upon her knees and kissed the patients fat back. "Would you believe it, Dr. Pestle,"' cried the lady, excitedly, "that Dr. Dulle actually declined to prescribe for the little patient. I've lost all confidence in Dr. Dulle," she .said; and,then she rang the bell. The footman answered it. "Adolphus John," said his mistress, "j'ou will take Flora to this gentle­ man's private residence; you will carry her with the utmost care. I will send mv man every hour for tidings. Dr. Pestle," said the old lady. "I have trusted you, doctor," she said tragically; "see that you do your duty;" and then, overcome by her feelings, she hurried from the room. 1 accompanied Flora anfl^dolphus John to my own house. As soon as the man had left, I began to consider Flora's case seriously. I determined to call iiOa consultant at once. I knew nothing "about dogs; but I knew a man who did. , After dark, a person of villatnotis~ appearance presented himself at ray back door. No sooner did he see the unfortunate Flora than he pronounced her case hopeless. "I'd have her drowned at once, sir, if I was you." "You're quite sure*the beast won't get over it?" I asked. "She's as good as dead already," said the man; "she's eot the 'yallers,' and her liver's gone to nothing." j I had. never even treated a case of "yallers!" He did not seem in doubt about his diagnosis. "I could get ye a better nor she for the matter of fifteen bob," he added. "I know of a dawg as is as like her as two peas: they might be twins, for the matter of that." "If you'll bring her to-ntgTTt and she suits me, I'll give you a sovereign," I said. 1 gave him half a crown, and, with a wink of thanks, he departed. In about an hour. Flora had passed away. I buried her secretly in the back-garden: I did not breathe a word of what had happened to a living soul. About midnight, the dog- fancier arrived, bringing another pug- dog in a bag, the very image of the deceased, but it was not so fat. "Answers to the name of Popsy, guv'nor," remarked the man, "and I wouldn't be seen with her iij^Cham- | berwell if I was you. D'ye 4urat>le?" j I hastened to assure him that I did ' tumble: I gave him his sovereign j and let him out. *jr„. ! All that night>lMM|jLe:w dog howled continually. We^S^ted it with the choicest viands, but the brute would not eat. "She must be better to make all that noise," remarked Matilda. "There is a marked improvement, my dear. What we have to dread is a relapse. In cases of--er--malig­ nant yellows, solution of continuity frequently takes place." Matilda was perfectly satisfied. ."How dreadful!" she said. My wife and I fed that beast for a whole fortnight as though we had been Chinese and were fattening it for the table. Each day I visited Miss Glumper and reported the pa­ tient's gradual improvement. "You'll find her much changed," I said; "the poor thing's terribly pulled down and the memory almost entirely gone. It has been a wonderful case," I said-- "a wonderfully successful case, and, strange to say," I added, in a pathetic voice, "I've got to love the little thing as though she were my own." Miss Glumper took my hand and burst into tears; her heart was too full for words. Of course Matilda and I always ad­ dressed the brute as Flora; but it was some time before she would answer to the name. At length, I brought home Flora to her expectant mistress. "I shouldn't have known her," cried Miss Glumper, as she fondled the brute and fed it with slices of cold chicken. "Oh, Dr. Pestle, how shall I testify my gratitude to you? Pray let me know the amount of my indebtedness." But I drew the line at taking her money. "Madam," I said. "I am only too glad to be of use to vou." "Doctor," replied the lady, "I'm eternally obliged." For tlve-and-twenty years Miss Glumper's account was as good as a hundred a year to me. She left me a £1,000 in her will; but she did more than that. "l)r. Pestle, '-she used to say to everybody, "saved a life that was very, very dear to me." Under the circumstances, it would have been my own fault if I had not, in course of time, managed to put to* gether one of the tidiest little prac­ tices in the neighborhood. TO LOUISE. OUISE, If riches he must have Whom you receive to be your slave, If gold and silver 'tis you crave And all that grand Is; If you require four- in-hands, A opuntry house with spreading lands, Fine horses, gems, expensive brands Of wines and brandlos-- If in the winter you must go To Nice and Rome and Monaco, To Naples, where soft brezes blow % And night caresses; If you must have & change of air When, lang'rous June has come to snsre Imaginations, and the glare ' ' . Of noon oppresses-- If you would have naught else to dct, Than idle fancies to pursue And. cast them by when you are through Like faded flowers; If such your dream be, then, dear one/ By my poor love you'll not be won And I would better now be don* Than waste the hours. " But If you'll turn a favoring ear To simple, honest love, my dear-- A love that's earnest, firm, slncero, And never falters; If you would have a heart that's pure A slave whose slav'ry will endure, A^taste of happiness that's sure* And never alters-- Why, then, take this I offer you. You'll find that I can yet be true Despite the idle gossips who All swear I'm fickle; For never have I loved before,' Although, in truth, I've had great store Of maids for whom I'd (so I swore) Defy time's sickle. And then, my sweet, our love trill be One long, continual ecstasy. An earthly paradise we'll see, In part divine, dear; If you will take the heart I send. If you will your affection lend, If I may be, until the end, Your valentine, dear. S'PKISED THE TEACHER. Valentines, valentines; the stationer's window was lined with them; the coun­ ter was piled with these airy nothings. Such a medley of cupids, arrows, golden hearts, and flowers peeping through the dainty white and gold lace; and, last of all, the sweet verses under these mani­ fold beauties. No wonder the dainty maidens looking in caught thqtr breaths, and with one voice exclaimedTVXovely, lovely!" The next Instant, like a sudden ray of sunlight, they burst into the shop. Mr. Popham, the stationer, a pale, thin little man, who always looked as if he" were cold, began to think it was a pleas­ ant day after all. "Oh, I choose this, and I choose this; just see--isn't this lovely! I choose this!" How the heads bobbed and the hands daintily lifted one after another, bright eyes still spying new delights. Mr. Popham began to feel a warm glow about his heart that spread and spread until he was so comfortable. The wrin­ kles began to smooth out of his face, his shoulders came down, his crooked fingers relaxed and looked comfortable, like the rest of hifft. Mr. Popham was about to have a fine trade. It had been a cloudy, chilly day, a few people had stepped in to the stationer's, but had not bought anything. He had been growing colder, his wrinkles tight­ er, his shoulders higher, and his fingers more crooked, all day; now he would have a fine trade. Every one of those dear little maids would buy a valentine, some more than one, perhaps. One, two, three, four, five of,them; five valentines, sure; perhaps seven. H'm! that would be Thref-Hkndnd Httn, Jorkins--Good thing Mrs. Broke got off about her husband, eh? Callous--What was that? Jorkins--Huh! Said he was • three-handed wonder--right hand, left hand and a little behind-hand.---" Drake's Magazine "I choose---- " Would they ever stop choosing? Sud­ denly the voices ceased, and only one was to be heard, in a half whisper. As Mr 'Popham was rather deaf he began to frown; he couldn't hear a word. Then they all began to whisper and tilt about on their toes, and smile and hold their hands over their mouths; and how they did bob their heads! What tantalizing misses! Then, if you will believe it, every mother's daughter of them tip-toed out of the shop, bobbing, skipping, and chattering until they disappeared from eight. Never was Mr. Popham more disgusted in his life. He climbed upon his high stool and looked at his book where he had expected to make such a nice little entry, and drew himself up into such a tight bunch, he looked like a little hump­ backed dwarf. It was very cloudy, dark and chilly, indeed. The next day was St. Valentine's Bay; chillier and darker than the day before. In a certain school-room sat the five little maids, each with a book before her. The teacher was having a hard day of it. Five pair of eyes constantly roved from the books to the teacher, from the teacher to the door, and then exchanged meaning glances with each other. Five pair of feet kept up a con­ tinual restless shuffle, and kept the rest of the school in confusion. The teacher had no idea that a certain five were the cause of this, that looked to her like rebellion. She watched all day,* but could not tell^ which one or ones*to punish. The more she com­ manded and threatened the worse they acted. Ora Maurice, her best scholiar (one of the® liVe), failed in geography. The idea of her being so stupid as to say when asked what were the principal products of Massachusetts, "Valen­ tines." Miss Wade, the teacher, wae neither pretty nor sweet-tempered; but she did try to teach them, and the parents all agreed they -- the scholars -- never learned so much in one term before. Would it never be four o'clock? Miss Wade pressed her hands to her aching head. That ceaseless, rasping hustling had set her nerves on edge, and the bold, disobedient eyes of the inattentive children were enough to aggravate a saint. At last the climax came in the shape of a little, fat, red-haired, freckle-faced boy on the front seat. Many a feruling that innocent, half-pathetic, honest smile of his had saved him. But there was no Balvation for Sammy to-day. It was nothing that he missed in all his lessons; he always did that. She did got much mind his falling asleep over Ills primer and setting the school into a titter. These things were not Intentional. The broad, good-natured smile, and a look flrom tho honest blue eyes won his par­ don. But he lot his book fall, the ex- SloBlve report causing her head to snap rith pain, and then giggled like an idiot. He half rose from his chair and looked out of tho window at some chance passer-by, pointing for the rest of the •chool to look, holding his hand over his I mouth and giggling more idiotic-life# ; still. Then Miss Wade felt that she could not and would not endure any further naughtiness from this demoral- ! iaed school; and when evory scholar hall arose and stretched his or her neck, she ; was fully decided. Some one must be made an example of; hefe was a good chance. "Sammy Porter"--in sternest tones. ! At this critical moment a knock came , •it the door. Miss Wade smoothed her face as best she could aud auswercd tho knock. There in the doorway stood Mr. Pop­ ham, the stationer, bowing and smiling in a very summerish way. He placed a package in the wondering teacher's nahds. "I was requested to deliver this to you, miss. Yes, miss; to you, miss. A fine school you have, miss. Yes, miss; a fine school, miss. Good-day, miss." And with another bow and flourish he disappeared. The teacher walked slowly back to the desk and would have laid the package one side. All at once she noticed how still it was. Had the scholars jumped out of the windows while she was at the door? She looked up; there they sat in their proper places, motionless as stat­ ues. Every eye was fixed on her with a strange earnestness; even Sammy for­ got that moment to smile. Miss Wade's hand began to tremble; she slowly cut the cord, removed the wrapper, and, behold! a blue and gold covered book. Pnems; Longfellow's poems. She turned the leaves. What nice cleat print. What line illustrations. She turned to the blank leaf to look for a "clue to' this mystery. There was pinned a pretty valentine. " Inside that was written in the large, even letters of book-writing copy: " With o^r best love. Long may you teach in the school-house on the hUl." No name. It seemed an age to the waiting schol­ ars that the teacher bent over the book. At last she looked up. Every,eye was sparkling, every face smiling. "Hurrah for teacher!" shouted the boys, and the girls clapped their hands. Sammy popped up and down like a jack- in-the-box, his face fairly shining with delight. "Hush," said Ora, at last. "Teacher is going to make a speech." Miss Wade leaned heavily on the hand resting on the desk as she stood before them. "Dear children," she be­ gan, in a very unsteady voice, then she sat down, hid her face on the desk and cried. The children were silent and gazed at her with awe-striken eyes. Who would have supposed that "teacher" ever cried? Poor Miss Wade! She would not have wept on any ordinary occasion. She would have accepted the gift with one of the sweet smiles that even the crossest teachers hold in reserve, like choice preserves to be brought forth for com­ pany, and made a neat little speech to express her thanks. If her head hadn't ached so hard all day; If she hadn't been so cross; if she hadn't thought such hard thoughts of the scholars; if--oh! if she hadn't been about to ferule Sammy! No wonder she cripd. ^ Sammy wriggled about like an eel, grew very red in the face, and stared with anxious perplexed eyes at the teacher's unaccountable actions. Then he marched bravely up to the platform and stepped near enough to just touch her with the end of his finger by bend­ ing his body as much as he safely could. "Say, teacher, ain't you glad?" A scared look llew into his face as he spoke and touched her; but when she looked up, his eyes met h£Ts with the familiar, fearless, honest gaze, minus the good- natured smile, however. Even force of nature and habit was not strong enough to conquer his trepidation. She made a motion he did not under­ stand and did not have time to dodge. She clasped him in her arms and kissed his freckled cheeks. "You dear boy! and to think I came so near whipping you!" The girls came trooping forward then and she. kissed every one of them. The boys held back shyly. "Come, boys, I wish to take each one of you by the hand." Sammy had recovered his equilibrium. He stood on tip-toe with eagerness to be heard. "Say, teacher, Ora begun it. She said, *1 choose teacher for my valentine.' Then the rest wanted to choose you,-- the rest in the store, you know. Susie Tucker told me all about it. Then Ora thought of having one big valentine, and they went all around last night to tell the school, and this noon they bought it. We all choosed you, teacher." Sammy stopped out of breath; then with a gasp finished, "and that's how we s'prised you, teacher."--Household Monthly. Ubartjr Fotw, A. dramatic feature of our early history was the liberty pole so dear to American boys and boyish men a ! century ago, although many of their descendants have never heard of them. j Liberty poles were, for the most ! part, erected after the Revolutionary j War was so. long an acknowledged : fact that the rebels could take time and breath togive it some picturesque I expressions. After the Republic was established we hear little more of them untilthe war of 1812 roused the antagonism of the people, and iip | went the long shafts again, each a protest agaift^tBritish aggression. . j During the^Vhisky, Insurrection in the last decade of the eighteenth century, when seven counties of Penn­ sylvania and Yirgiuia arrayed them­ selves in defiance of the national government, liberty poles shot up during the night in the rebellious towns and villages, painted a bright r^d as signals of war. Liberty poles were erected during presidential campaigns in the first part of the century by both Whigs and Democrats. They we're usually made of white pines, lashed together until they reached a\ great height. The more fervid the seal of the party the higher rose the pole. Sailors were often brought out from the seabord to inland towns to assist in the erec­ tion, and to rig flags to the amazement and delight of the boys who knew nothing of*ships or seamen. Mass-meetings were held 'tinder these poles, which were often re­ garded with a superstitious affection. The blowing down of a pole by a high wind during a campaign chilled the hopes of one party, and cheered the others. These singular emblems of protest against oppression have wholly disap­ peared of late years throughout the country, except in some remote dis­ tricts where old. customs still are cherished by rural communities.-- Youth's Companion. WHATEVER regret is felt for the death of the heir presumptive to the British throne must be that which it is natural to feel when death removes a man in his youth, and especially when the time of his marriage is near.' There was nothing in the character of the deceased to embitter his loss. He had not shown those qualities which would make him well fitted to rule or that have endeared him to the Eng­ lish people either as a m^n or as a prince, pis marriage was a mere piece of statecraft, so that there is no romantic element here to add to the sadness of his being taken away; and while death, and .especially the death of one to whom life might be felt ^o hold out prospects so brilliant, cannot be other than shocking, this is a case Blips or the Tongue. Few things are capable of affording more amusement than what are called slips of the tongue, or the accidental misuse of a word or phrase. Often amusing themselves, thev are fre­ quently rendered more amusing when they occur at especially solemn oc­ casions, as for example, in church or ut a funeral. Every one knows how the ludicrous is bightened in effect when it is impossible or injudicious to give way to merriment. Few people would be able alto­ gether to control their amusement at such an instance of verbal confusion as that which occurred on a certain Sunday in a little parish church. Ac­ cording to a well-known newspaper, the curate of the church in question was directed by his rector to make two announcement^one relating to a forthcoming baptfs»&l service, and the other referring fosomq new hymn- books which were about to be used in the services of the church. At the proper time the curate said, "For the future 'Hymns Ancient and Modern' will be used in this church. There will be a baptism of infants here next Sunday. All parents wishing to have their children baptised must send in their names to the vicar before Wednesday." The vicar, who was somewhat deaf, noticed the curates voice cease, but not observing that the order of the notices had been reversed, gravely added, "And I should like farther to mention that those who wish to have some of the latter can on applying to yicarage, obtain them for one shilling each, or with extra strong backs for 18 pence." This is probably as deli­ cious an example of confusion as could well be met With. A tolerably good story is told of a minister who was about to christen an infant. When asked the infant's name the father politely answered. "Lucy, sir." "Lucifer!" exclaimed the astonished clergyman, "I shall give him no such name. Call him John." And John the poor little girl was called.--Westward Ho. less memorable than Dean Stanleys to those who sneered at Bishop Colen- so in convocation- "If there werean ancestor," said Huxley, "whom I should feel shame in recalling, it would be a man--a man of restless and versatile intellect, who, not con­ tent with an equivocal success in his own sphere of activity, plunged into scientific questions with which he has no real acquaintance, only to obscure them with a nameless rhetoric, and distract the attention of his hearers from the real point at issue by elo­ quent digressions and skilled appeal to religious prejudice." Wlijr Some Dreamt Arm Forgotten^ .During the period of deepest sleep the function of the brain is so weak­ ened that we retain no recollection of what may occur. Sometimes we know that we have dreamed, but are wholly unable to recall a single trace of that which has engaged our thoughts. But shortly before we awake our dreams become more lively and connected, and for this reason are more easily retained by the memory. "Morning dreams come true," is the saying interpreted by jthe physical state of sleep being then less; trains of thought suggested fol­ low more nearly the course of waking associations, and the memory re­ tains them, while earlier and more confused dreams are wholly lost, to the mind. Again, persons are to be found who, when they speak much during sleep, are unable to remember their urcuiiW on waking, yet recollect perfectly if they do not speak. This fact is easily accounted for. Prob­ ably when we are silent the mind is more directed upon the subject of the dream and not so likely to be dis­ tracted from it. There is perhaps another explanation. When we dream of speaking, or actually speak, the necessity of using language infers the exercise of some degree of reason, and thus, the incongruities of the dream being diminished, its nature becomes less striking and conse­ quently less likely to be remembered. --Brooklyn Eagle. - Jturrtctte on Women. Now, women can do anything she tries, even to singing bass in her own quartet of girls, so that weak man is a superfluity in the choir, writes Kobert J. Burdette in his new depart­ ment in the Ladies' Home Journal. She has harnessed her grace-hoops tandem, and made a bicycle of thetn: she rows, she fishes, she shoots, inso­ much that all men, and it may be spme game, fear her shooting (joke); she weareth her brother's hat, and his outinar cap; his shirt front, his four-in-hand tie, and many things that are her brother's. She is stronger than her mother, and can stand a great deal more rest; she is quite as liappy^ and far more independent. She ^hangs on to the strap in the where the affliction which follows the I street-car when her mother hjid a seat shock is not likely to be either deep or lasting. There is no question that England has gained by the exchange of the Prince for his brother George, ill-omened as that name has hitherto been to the British throne. TnE mania for circus performances in theaters--mania responsible for giving us, in "The Country Circus," one of the most amusing pieces of the season--is raging all over just now. Every budding impresario who can muster capital enough t-o buy an an­ cient Rosinante, a few barrel hoops covered with paper, and to hire a sec­ ond-hand clown, has started on the road with a "combination," which is brilliant beyond description--on the bill boards. Most of the animals in these circuses are made of cardboard and some of the performers act as if they were of the same stiff material. But these are small and immate­ rial details, which country audiences overlook in their desire to make the acquaintance of the latest theatrical fad. CATCH any boy of ten or twelve, and look at his hands, and you will fln<l "they are chapped and rough and bleeding.* Girls of the same age have nice smelling things on their dressing table that they put on their hands at night, but Mr. Boy is left to the care of nature, and she is not very tender of those in her charge at this time of the year. •* SIB EDWIN ARNOLD says that Japan is the paradise of children, for in that land a child from the moment of its birth un­ til its maturity never knows what It Is to be unhappy. All Eton Boy'* Rise, Gallantry may be a lost art, oat a London contributor to the Boston Herald believes that when it gets a chance to chip in it makes a shining mark. A few years ago an Eton boy by rare good luck, stood near his sovereign's carriage, when a lunatic fired, a pistol shot at that royal lady who sat within* This youth with true English courkge, and without saying by your leave to the Queen, sprang at the miscreant's throat and before the Queen's guard knew what had happened, had very nearly shaken the life out t»f the man's body. For this swift application of Eton rules, young Gordon Chesney Wilson, the son of a rich commoner, received the plaudits of a public which adores pluck, and the hearty acknowl­ edgements of the royal family, including Victoria herself. His path, which henceforth was Strewn with _ court favors, finally led ^him to the altar the other day, where he wedded a Duke's daughter amid one of the grandest scenes in the annals of aristocratic alliances. The nobility of England is to be con­ gratulated on attaining an infusion of new blood of this rich, red hue. It is of sjich stuff heroes are born and bred. Effect of Creosote Upon Chimneys. Attention has lately been called to the peculiarly corrosive and conse­ quently destructive effect of creosote of woodsoot upon chimneys, owing to the fact that creosote thus formed from the slow combustion of wood contains so large a proportion of pyroligneous vinegar or crude acetic acid; this acid being formed in large quantities when the combustion of wood is slow, many quarts, in fact, being condensed Jn cold weather where a large wood lire is very much cracked, only a few hours be­ ing required for such condensation. The acid in question, says the World's Progress, dissolves lime readily, carry­ ing it away in solution, and in this manner the mortar is frequently en­ tirely removed from the tops of chim­ neys in the country, new ones suit­ ing the same way as the old, in­ stances being numerous where the top cources in brick chimneys only two years old have become entirely without support other than that af­ forded by the sand with which the lime was mixed. in the omnibus if every man rode out­ side in the rain. She gets jostled and pushed about in the crowd, when some bare-headed man, bowing low, used to make wa\v for her grand­ mother. With weary patience she stands in line at the ticket-ofliec: woe is she if she presume on the privilege of sex to step in ahead of a man; she gets, hustled back to her place. Much she hath gained by freedom; some­ what, also, hath she lost. She can­ not eat her cake and keep it. Still, if she didn't eat it would become fear­ fully stale, or somebody else would get it. And cake is only good to eat, anyhow. Scarcely would she ex­ change her independence for deference and helplessness. Her loss is more in form than fact. Men are more unself­ ishly chivalrous toward her than even their fathers were; but this hurrying age of gallop and gulplias tramped up- onthe deliberate grace and studied ele­ gance of a lazier day, when men bowed lower and did less; when men aban­ doned loafing and went to work, they quit wearing lace at their wrists and rapiers at their sides; they ceased to talk in blank verse, and conversed in plain prose; they cut off their long ringlets, and the curling-tongs were dethroned by the clippers. " A Stinging Kebnfce. Bishop Wilberforce's most, notable discomfiture was in I860, when at a meeting of the British Association, he made an eloquent assault on Dar­ win's "Origin of Species," and, ask­ ing Huxley whether he was related to an ape on his grandfather's or grand­ mother's side, received an answer not lee for Kninm-rr Stcntlng. Skating on ice in midsummer 1s a luxury p-omised for Chicago skaters. A company is being organized-to build a rink similar to the Alhambra i Paris. It is to be a circular affair, something like the / big panorama buildings on Wabash avenue. The capital stock, of the company will be $150,000, and the site wiil probably be near Jack­ son Park. The skating surface is made by building a cement basis about two feet in depth. Across this on the bottom are laid a number of pipes one-half an inch apart. Water is then turned in, and by a patented piocess is frozen by means of some substance passing through the network of pipes. The tempera­ ture of the room will beivept at about 40 degrees in winter and summer.-- Chicago News! V I'cMOcMafcTii. "A baby," said a sentimental per­ son in a public assembly, "is a mes­ senger of peace in the household." A rough-looking man at the b ick of the room was seen to be nodding his head repeatedly in answer to the sentiment. "You find it s6, do you not, my friend?" said the speaker. "That I do," answered the rough man. "I'll tell you just* how it is. When we was first married my wife used sometimes to fetch me a blow, and oflen I had to give her a whip­ ping:" "And now it's all changed?" •{Yes; the young ones catches all the blowsj^ Precocious Innocence. ••Will Harry Johnson go to Heaven when he dies?" "I hope so, dear." "Will he have a bigger boat than me up there?" "He won't have any boat at alL" "When will he die?"--Comic. HEADACHE. it wittt Hot Wmtmr • Bponjrc 0 .. In casfe of the ordinary nervous headache from which women suffer BO much, says an authority, remove the dress waist, knot the hair high up on the head, out of the way, and while leaning over the basin, place a sponge soaked in hot water, as hot as can be borne, on the baclpof the neck. Repeat this many times; also apply­ ing the sponge behind the ears, and, if the assertion of the writer is not a mistaken one, m many cases the strained muscles and nerves that have caused so much misery will be felt to relax and smooth themselves out de- liciously, and very frequently the pain promptly" vanishes in conse­ quence. Every woman knows the. aching ficeand neck generally brought home from a hard day's shopping, or from a long round of calls and after­ noon teas. She regards with intense dissatisfaction the heavy lines drawn around her eyes and mouth by the long strain on the facial mnscles, and when she must carry that worttj countenance to some dinner party or evening's amusement, it robs her of all,the pleasure to be had in it. Cos­ metics are not the cure, iifti^biomides, or the many nerve sedatives to be had at the drug shop. Henv again, the sponge and hot water is advised by the writer quoted, bathing the. face in water as hot as can possibly be borne; apply the sponge over and over agin to the temples, throat, and behind the ears, where most of the nerves and muscles of the head centter, and then bathe the face in water run­ ning cold from the faucet. Color and smoothness of outline coirie back to the face, an astonishing freshness and comfort is the result, and if a nap of ten minutes can follow every trace of fatigue will vanish. » Itath* <III W IMNIII. The great hotels of Paris, some very costly mansions andlipartmcnts, have large bath-rooms, elegantly furnished; but people living in apartments cost­ ing as high as a thousand dollars a year, and in the new quarter of Paris in the neighborhSod of the Champs Elysees, when they wish to bathe, other than a sponge bath in a small, portable tub, either go to the public bathing establishments or' send to •\hern to have a bath brought to their' apartments. Sunday morning one sees a stfrange-looking two-wheeled cart, on which there is a frame-work built over the wheels. This frame­ work can hold three bath tubs. The driver of the vehicle is perched up high on a small seat in front, is bare­ headed and wears a blouse. On each side of him an iron ring encircles a copper-covered vessel, holding aboi t three gallons of hot water, whhh rests on a little shelf. He also carries a supply of dry towels and sheets. Arrived at^the house of the patron who has oKlered the bath, the driver carries the tub on his head and shoul­ ders to the first and fifth floor, as the case may be. The necessary cold water lie finds on th6 premises. When the bath has been taken he re­ moves all the appurtenances swiftly and neatly, and drives away with his kettles and soiled towels. The charge for all this is about sixty cents, with the additional fee to the man. JWHEN a girl turns up her nose, it isn't generally that you may kiss her lips more easily. %Vliy He .Varriml. Fifty years ago "Uncle Harry" was a well-known resident of a viflage in the Old Colony, writes a correspond­ ent. Slow of speech and action, he was reputed to be "easy-going." He had lived to the age of 70 with­ out a wife, and it was openly said tfiat he was " too lazy to go courting" --which of course marked him as a very lazy man indeed. One day the village was startled by the news of Uncle Harry's marriage. Shortly afterward, the squire, as the one lawyer of the place was called, happened to be driving past Uncle Harrys farm, ar\d seeing the old man in the yard, stopped for a little gos­ sip. The bridegroom, visibly "smart­ ened up," was resplendent with hap­ piness. "You seem so well contented, how did it happen you never married be­ fore?" asked the squire. "I dunno," brawled Uncle Harry, I've had marriage feelin's come over me lots o' times, but they never last­ ed long 'nough fer me ter git any­ wheres." "But this time they lasted?" "Wall, no, not eggzactly; you see, Eunice come along an' stayed!" Proof of Her Thnorla*. Mrs. Annie Jenness Miller, theweli- inown disciple of dress reform and who has many warm admirers both in Chicago and elsewhere, is now more than- ever convinced of the truth of <her theories on woman's dress and the beneficial results arising there­ from. The following* letter, written to a friend in New York, explain^ii- self: "MY DEAB MBS. COLBY:--I have the love­ liest pirl baby in tho world, a perfect ex­ ponent of my tneories. She has the most wonderful muscular and vital strength, and does at her age what you expcct of children much older. She has held up her head un­ aided 6ince she was two hours old., and turned about at will. She proves what healthful dress means to motherhood. "Most affectionately, "ANNIE JEXNESS MILLEE." POOR KMJR •'"J*. The body of King Jaja of Opobo, who, for his savagery, was trans­ ported by the British to the West Indies, whep^ne died, was lately taken back to his home. When the steamer arrived in the" Opobo River she was met by a fleet of sixty war canoes filled with Jaja's warriors, clothed in full costume. The Queen's Commissioner handed over the body of the King to his former subjects, who. took it to his old palace. There the coffin was opened to satisfy the people that Jaja was dead. Then the place "went into mourning." and the ceremonies usual on such occasions began, of course without human sacrifice. Preparing Boll Matter, In preparing roll butter for ship­ ment each roll should be wrapped in a clean butter cloth which has been soaked in a strong brine made up from sixteen parts of salt, one part each of white sugar, saltpeter and borax dissolved in water. In for­ warding handle as little as possible, as every handling adds mussiness in appearance and consequently depre­ ciates its value. THE majority of our names will not be written even in water*