S— mn me ————
ICLIME TO REST.
Still must I climb, if I would rest:
The bird soars upward to his nest;
The young leaf on the tree-top hugh
Cradles itself within the sky. .
The streams, that seem to hasten down,
Return in clouds, the hills to crown
The plant arises from her root,
To rock aloft her flower and fruit,
I cannot in the valley stay;
The great horizons stretch away,
The very cliffs that wall me round
Are ladders unto higher ground,
To work—to rest——for each a time
I toil, but I must also climb,
What soul was ever quite at ease
Shut in by earthly boundaries ?
I am not glad till IT have known
Life that can lift me from my own;
A loftier level must bo won,
A mightier strength to lean upon.
And heaven draws near as I ascend;
The breezs invites, the stars befriend,
All things are bec koning to the Dest;
I climb to Thee, my God, for rest!
ATS ———
MELISSA™S COOKING.
Mrs. Orena Fales had lost her house-
keeper—by death. It was a great ca-
Jamity—to Aunt Re. For twenty years
old Nabby had taken charge of her
house, having full control of every-
thing but the garden, The garden was
Aunt Re’s realm; here only she cared
to hold sway. She had a passion for
flowers. She had neither husband nor
child, and the roses and lilies, the pinks
and pansies, were her delight, her dar-
lings, her babies. She tended them,
caressed them, held her breath over
them lest they be disturbed.
And richly they repaid her care,
From May to November the flower-gar-
den at the Chestnuts was a blaze of
beauty. Rather close otherwise, Aunt
Re never spared expense to gratify her
passion. A root or bulb, if rare and
* beautiful, was never to expensive for
her purse. It was said that she had
once given ten dollars for a tulip bulb
which could not be obtained for less.
Eor keeping her house she had not
the least taste.
the house—swept, garnished,
the provisions, and cooked them.
Jut old Nabby was dead.
Immediately upon thisevent Aunt Re
for the winter. Bat in
neighbors looked for
housekeeper.
woman,” said Melissa Ruggles,
“A colored woman, who couldn’t
do that I” said Mrs. Brown,
a nice chance for some one,
beds, good food;
little near.
summer,”
“Posies! —th’ last thing I'd set by,”
said Mlissa,
“It’s money you're after—eh? Well,
Aunt Re gives
that'll take all the care an’ work
her. There's not much to do for
that has faculty, an’
r
o suit
them
it's a life-berth,
say nothing of what might come in the
will. 1 say, Melissa, you're second
cousin or something to Aunt Re—why
don’t you try for it?"
eStly.
head,
thing or two
She had gone out nursing, and had
the reputation of being a good cook,
She was alone in the world, but was
known to be *“‘beforchanded,’ having
quite an account at the bank.
like Melissa’s cold gray eyes, eminently
respectable though she wns, Mrs,
Brown had heard Aunt Re remark
something of this Kind.
“1 shouldn't wonder, after all, if she
took Sylvia.”
Sylvia Fales was Aunt Re’s niece—
her deceased brother’s only child. she
was poor, worked at sewing and sup-
ported her mother, and was just seven-
teen.
She was pretty and good, and when
Aunt Ie returned she came to the cot-
tage to ace them. She had not been
there before for two years,
“Your'e quite a young woman now,
ain't you, Sylvia? And you look like
your father. Daniel had the same
dark blue eyes, with black lashes; only
you're a little too pale. Are you well
and strong?"
“It’s theo confinement and sewing
makes Sylvia pale, Aunt Re," said Mrs,
Daniel Fales, an invalid.
via; still she did not ask her to come to
The Chestnuts,
Molissa had already offered her ser
vices,
“I am thinking of asktig my niece
and Ler mother to come and live with
me,” Aunt Ro said to her, “Sylvia’s
young, but with her mother’s help?’
“Lawl Sylvia don’t know a thing
about cooking, and her mother can't
make anything but gruel,’
“That seitles it. WII you come,
Melisa.”
“I'l try to,” said Miss Rugglas,
. Yet Aunt Rte gave np the thought of
Sylvian with a secret sigh, She was
younj, fresh, pretty as one of her fa
vorite white roses, and she knew she
might bave been kinder to hor poor re-
lations than she had been,
and spent nearly all her time in the
fresh air among her flowers, had a good
appetite, and must haye an experienced
e¢nok, Bo she took Melissa,
“Ifere are the keys,” she said, "Now,
don’t bothe®me about anything, My
garden is dreadfully behindband this
year,”
She bustled away to her flowerbeds.
In twenty-four hours Melissa learned
that nothing annoyed Aunt Re like re-
ferring any household matter to her.
She made Melissa understand that she
paid her to take care of the house,
Larder and cellnr were fairly stocked,
The kitchen was large and pleasant,
the adjoining sitting-room overlooked
the beautiful garden, and a nice bed-
room for the “help?” at The Chestnuts
opened from the kitchen hall,
Melissa found her domain pleasant,
and resolved to make her situation a
permanent one.
“Do you like sweet potatoes?”
asked rather timidly.
“Yes,” responded Aunt Re, briefly.
She did not like to be consulted re-
garding the dishes cooked,
Now, Melissa had ciscovered among
the apple barrels and potato bins of the
dry airy cellar a few gray colored tu-
bers. It was not the time of year for
sweet potatoes, and these might conse-
quently be considered choice,
She thought she would not cook any
for herself, but she boiled four for
Aunt Re—the tubers being rather
small—and thought they would go
nicely with the chicken she had stuffed
and roasted.
she
But in her anxiety to boil the sweet
potatoes to a turn she forgot to baste
the chicken, and it was dry and unsa-
vory. As for the sweet potatoes, Aunt
Re cut one open after the other, and
left them uneaten upon her plate,
“I'll. bake some for breakfast,”
thought Melissa, ‘“‘Baked sweet po-
tatoes are always good,”
So the next morning, she baked four
more. Dut Aunt Re seemed to relish
these still less, and they did look pale
and watery, Melissa thought, as she
surveyed the broken fragments which
Aunt Re had failed to partake of. Dut
if the latter liked a good dinner she
had the idiosyneracy of never remark-
ing upon what she ate; and Mellsaa se-
cretly troubled by these two failures,
yet valiantly resolving never to give up
so, decided to make a pie of the re-
maining four sweet potatoes. So she
consulted her cook book, and carefully
read the receipt:
“Boil four medium-sized sweet pota-
toes and sift. Deat the yelks of three
eggs light, Stir, with a pint of sweet
milk, into the potato, Add a small
teacup of sugar and a pinch of salt.
Flavor with lemon and bake them
you do pumpkin ples.”
. Melissa got the directions well into
her head, and proceeded to make the
pie.
It was baked in a large,
plate, and looked very nice
a dellcate brown.
“There,
it.” said Melissa
ooled, and
ner-table,
The lamb stew was very nice, and
Aunt Re who had been sorting out
pansy roots and tying up tulips all the
morning ate with an appetite. Then
Meligsa heiped her to a generous slice
of pie, Aunt Re tasted, and a shudder
stole over her countenance. She tasted
again, and pushed aside her plate,
“The pie—"'stammered Melissa,
“Is execrable!” pronounced Aunt
Re with emphasis, “Such a very pe-
cublar flavor! But I am through with
dinner, Perhaps I shall want your
help a little while this afternoon, Me-
lissa; I have so much todo! I am go-
ing now to plant my dahlia bulbs, Will
you go down the cellar and get them?
They are on the swing shelf —twelve of
them-—in a wooden bowl, I hope they
have kept well, for they are very rare
and expensive. I oaly got them asa
favor. No one in town has any like
them, Be quick as you can, Melissa;
I am in a hurry.”
Melissa stumbled down ‘the cellar
stairs and looking at the empty wooden
bowl upon the swing shelf like one fn a
dream. Then she went slowly upstairs
again,
“Aunt Re, I may as well tell you
first as last, I—I-—boiled them things,
I thought they was sweel potatoes,
“Boiled my bulbs—my magnificent
Queen Anne dahlia bulbs, that I paid
twelve dollars a dozen for?"
Melissa bowed dismally,
“What a fool! ejaculated Aunt Re,
and then was speechless for some min.
utes,
“I don’t think your style of cooking
suits me, Melissa,” she said, at last,
“Sylvia Fales would never have done
such a thing as that, If you will let
me know what you think I owe you for
your services, we will part at once, and
I will send for Sylvia this evening.”
MOb, you don’t owe me nothin’,
Only don’t let folks hear—'twould make
me such a laughin’ stock,”
“Tench you more sense,”
Aunt Re, as she left the kitchen,
In the shades of evening, a wiser and,
let us hope, a better woman, crept
down the avenue of The Chestnuts,
followed by a man bearing her goods
and chattels upon a wheelbarrow, and,
as
deep, tin
when baked
that-—can’t help
the pie had }
she placed it upon the din-
31 31%
she'll like
when
had been bitterly disappointed that her
Aunt had not asked her to live at The
Chestnuts,
“#1 don’t care for myself, mother,
though the sewing gives me a stitch in
the side; bus it would be such a good
home for you—s0 many comforts that
1 can't get for you! Oh, I am so sorry!
And, mother, I heard to- ‘day that Me-
lissa Ruggles told Aunt Re, that 1
couldn’t cook. It's aright-down false-
hood—isn’t it?"
“Yes, You have prepared the dain-
tiest dishes to tempt ry capricious ap-
petite for years, and are naturally the
neatest. of housekeepers,”
So Aunt Re, to her delight and sur-
prise had discovered, and in her satis-
tion took pains to make Sylvia and her
mother feel entirely at home at The
Chestnuts,
Housekeeping agreed with the for-
mer. Mer cheeks grew rosy and her
spirits merry; while her mother, re-
lieved from care and surrounded by
comfort, became much improved in
health, Andby-and-by, Sylvia, having
added the good fortune of marrying to
suit Aunt Re, became her heiress,
The wed ding took place at The Chest-
nuts, and it became her permanent
home,
cr ————————
A Long Sleep.
A certain famous historical desert-
snail was brought from Egypt to
England as a concholgical specimen in
the year 1846, This particular mollusk
(the only one of his race, probably
who everattained to individual distine-
tion) at the time of his arrival in Lon-
don was really alive and vigorous, but
as the authorities of the British museum
to whose tender care he was consigned,
were ignorant of this important fact
in his economy, he was gummed, mouth
downward, on a piece of cardboard, and
duly labeled and dated with sciantific
accuracy, * Helix desertorum, Marci 25,
1846." Being a snail of a retiring and
contented disposition, however, accus.
tomed to long droughts and correspond-
ing naps in his native sond wastes, our
mollusk thereupon simply eurled himseil
up into the topmost recesses in his own
whorls, and went placidiy to sleep in
perfect contentment for an unlimited
period. Every conchologist takes it for
granted, of course, that the shells which
he receives from foreign parts have had
their inhabitants properly boiled and
extracted before being exported; for it
is only the mere outer shell or skeleton
of the animal that we preserve in our
cabinets. leaving the actual flesh and
muscles of the erature himself to withe:
unobserved upon its native shores, At
the British Museum the desert—snail
might have snoozed away his inglorious
existency unsuspecied but for a happy
accident which attracted public at-
tention to his remarkable case in a most
extraordinary manner, On March 7,1850,
nearly four years later, it was casmally
rved that the card on which he re-
ghtly discolorad; and thi
obs
wills
discovery led fo the suspicion that per-
hapsa living animal might be tempora-
rily immured within that papery tomb,
The museum authorities accordingly
ordered our fniend a warm bath (who
shall say hers after that
unfeeling?) upon which the grateful
snail, waking up at the touch of the
familiar moisture, put his bead cautious-
ly out of his shell, walked up to the top
of the basin, and began to take a cus-
sory survey of the British institution
with his four eye-bearing tentacles. So
strange a recovery from a long torpid
condition, only equaled by the seven
sleepers of Ephesus, deserved an excep-
tional amount of scientific recognition.
The desert-snail at once awoke and
found himsélf famous, Nay, he actual-
ly sat for his portrait to an eminent
zoological artist, Mr, Waterhouse, and
a wood-cut from the sketch thus pro-
auced, with a history of his life and
adventures may be found even unto
this day in Dr. Woodward's ‘Manual
of the Mollusea,’’ to witness if I lie,
—— ID A 55
The Restaurant Keeper's Fiag,
posed was sli
seience is
“Jimmy, get the flag!"
This command was given by the land-
lord of a down-town restaurant, just
after an able-bodied colored man had ask-
ed for a meal and been told that he could
have one if he would earn it. Jimmy
brought forth a banger whereon was
painted the restaurant's advertisement.
The colored man was told to walk with
it—slowly, so slowly that everybody on
the sidewalk might read it—around two
or three blocks, for an hour and a half,
the promise being that then he should
have a good dinner,
Later in the day the reporter called,
and was told that the colored man had
earned his dinrver and eaten it. “These
applications have been constant for
years past,” the restaurateur said, “and
1 have had that advertisement carried
in the streets for years,"
“Did you ever lose your flag?”
“Yes, a man in a dress that wasn't
yet shabby nerved himself up to taking
it out, one afterfioon two years ago, and
I didn’t ses it until, three or four days
later, I was passing the store of one of
my neighbors, and he called mo in, say-
ing that a man dodged into his store
and asked permission to leave it there
while he stepped round the corner to see
a friend. The man had earried the flag
three blocks, and then his resolution
had failed him.”
i p—
Boast not of your health and strength
too much; bat whilst
ho, ov uss tho onioy Byotn,
Murders and Outrages.
Londoners are just now in a state of
scare on account of the numerous
murders and outrages that have lately
aken place, the perpetrators of which
have, #0 far, escaped detection,
Altheugh the year is still young, three
dreadful mupders and half a dozen
gerious assaultshave been made known.
Formerly it was very rare to find a
professional burglar armed with a
pistol; now the revolver and “Jimmy”
seem generally to go together, Taken
as a body, the London police are a fine
courageous set of men, but il 1s a cruel
thing to send them out on lonely
suburban beats armed with nothing
but a short truncheon, not much larger
or more effective than an office ruler,
perhaps to cope with desperadoes armed
to the teeth, An English pohiceman’s
truncheon is not half so effective a
weapon as his American confrere’s club,
and hitherto there has been a strange
disinclination on the part of the
authdrities to arm the police with
revolvers even when on night duty.
The worst of this is that if their legal
guardians be not sufficiently well armed
to protect them people will begin to arm
themselves—a consummation most
devoutly not to be wished for, At
present it is a very rare thing indeed to
fiind an English man who owns a
pistol, and a still rare thing to find one
who habitually carries firearms about
his person. Now, however, the pistol
trade is becoming brisk, and we are
threatened with the growth of the ob-
jectionable custom of carrying conceal-
ed weapons. Puoblic opinion isgradually
growing sensible on the subject of
arming the police when on night duty,
for it is clearly far preferable that arms
should be put into the hands of a re-
sponsible and disciplined body than that
every schoolboy should tum himself
into a walking arsenal,
James Greenwood, of **Casual Wara®'
and “Man-and-dog-fight” fame, has
latey been allowed to fill a couple of
columns in the London Daily Telegraph
with an account of the invention ot an
eccentric Burglophobist. The narrative
may be as apocrypbal as the story of
the man and dog fight was said tn» be
but it is amusing reading, and si non e
vero ¢ ben trovato,
The Stranglers’ Bane and Burglars’
Bugbear, etc, which Mr, Gresnwood
describes, are certainly curious inven-
tions. The first is a collar, wound
round the neck, which, when a garroter
seizes the wearer, puts forth a number
of sharp spikes, The garroler is sup-
posed to say a big D and leave go, when
a pistol comes out from the nape of
the neck aud shoots the strangler in
any portion his anatomy which happens
to be in the line of fire. Meanwhile the
attacked man sends up a rocket out of
his patent walking-stick, which is the
signal for the police to come onthe scene
and carry offthe dead. Should the gay
and festive butgiar | hit Mr. James Gree-
he is still
ready for the contest, immediately upon
the hat feeling the blow a battery of
rocket goes off. The genial inventor of
all this war like paraphernalia did not
condescend to enlighten James as to
what was probably considered a trifling
matter of delail which a man of
James' brains cculd see for himself,
SH III 5S ANAS
Mimicking Monkeys.
wood’s friend on the head,
Affection and sympathy are quite as
strongly marked among all the monkey
tribes as in other animals, An Ameri-
can monkey has been observed carefully
to drive away the flies which plagued
her infant Another was seen washing
the faces of her young ones very gently
ia a stream. And so intense is the grief
of female monkeys for the loss of their
young that it frequently causes the
death of the mother in some of the spe-
ces when kept in confinement, If one'of
them happens to be wounded in their
native forests, the rest assemble round
and thurst a finger into the wound, as
if to sound itsdepth. Some of them have
been seen, when the blood flowed, to
keep it shut up, while others gol leaves,
which they chewed and thrust into the
opening. The young orphan monkeys
were carefully tended by the other
monkeys, both male and female,
Their solicitude and care for a dead
companion were remarkably shown in
an ing ance related by J. Forbes, F. RR.
8., in his **Oriental Memoirs,” One of
a shooting party having killed a female
monkey, carried it to his tent, which
was immediately surrounded by forty
or fifty of her companions, who made a
great nose and seemed about to attack
their enemy. Till ns gun, the dread-
ful effect of which they had witnessed,
was presented, however, the head of the
party stood his ground, chattering fur
fously., The sportsman, feeling some
little compunction for haviug killed one
of them, did not like to fire at the creat-
ure, and yet nothing sbort of fing
would suffice to drive him off, At
Jenth he came to the door bf the tent,
began & lamentable moaning, aod by
the most expressive gestures seemed to
beg for the dead body, which was at
last given to him: sorvowfally he took
it in his arms and bore it away to his
companions, It must not, however, Le
supposed that all monkeys display this
care for their dead, Of their sympathy
for injured companions, . a. npturalist—
who kept in his garden 8 number of
from restraint, merely coming when
called to be fed—tells How ous 00 them,
and dislocated his wrist; it received the
greatest attention from the others, es-
pecially from an old female, who, bow-
ever, was no relative: she used every
day before eating ber own plantains to
take up the first that were offered to
her and give them to the cripple, who
was living in the eaves of a wooden
house, 1t was also frequently noticed
that a cry of pain or distress from one
of them would quickly bring all the
others to the sufferer, who would then
condole with him and fold him in their
armas,
At the Zoological Gardens, two or
three years ago, an Arabian baboon and
an Anubis baboon were confined in a
cage adjoining one that contained a
dog-headed baboon. The Anubis ba-
boon one day passed its band through
the wires of the partition to take a nut,
which the dog-headed baboon had left
within its reach, probably to act as &
bait. The Anubis baboon knew well
the danger he ran, tor he waited until
his big neighbor had turned his back
upon the nut, as if he had forgotten all
about it, though all the time he was
slyly looking round with the corner of
his eye, and no sooner was the arm of
the unfortunate victim safely within
his cage than he sprang forward and
caught the retreating hand in his mouth,
His enes quickly brought the keeper
to the rescue, who, with difficulty, forced
the dog-headed baboon to let go his
hold. Moaning piteously, the wounded
animal retired to the other end of his
cage, holding the injured hand against
his chest while he rubbed it gently
with the other one, The Arabian bo
boon then came forward, and, with a
soothing sound expressive of sympathy,
folded his companion in his arms-—just
as a mother would ber child under sim-
ilar circumstances, This expression of
sympathy had such a decidedly soothing
effect upon the sufferer, that his moans
became less piteous as soon as he found
himself in the arms of his comforter;
and the way In which he laid his cheek
upon the bosom of his friend showed
plainly fat the sympathy was fully ap-
preciated,
No monkey has any sense of grati-
tude, but takes his victuals with a snatch
and then grins in the face of the person
that gives it him, lest he should take it
away again; for he supposes that all
men will snatch away what they can
lay hold of, as monkeys do. Through
an invincible selfishness no monkey con-
siders any individual but himself, as the
poor cat found to her cost when the
monkey burned her paws with raking
his chestnuts out of the fire, They can
can never eat together without quar
reling and plundering one another.
Every monkey delights in mischief, and
cannot help doing it when it is in his
power. If anything he takes hold of
can be broken or spoiled, he is sure to
tind the way of doing it; and he chat.
ters with pleasure when he hears the
noise of a chiua vessel smashed to pieces
upon the pavement. If he takes up a
bottle of ink he empties it upon the floor,
He unfolds all your papers and scatters
them about the room, and what he can-
pot undo he tears to pieces; and it is
wonderful to see how much of this he
will do in a few minutes when he hap-
pens to get loose.
When the wild monkeys have escaped
to the top of trees the people below who
want to catch them show them the whe
of gloves by putting them on and pull
ing them off repeatedly; and, when the
monkeys are supposed to have taken
the hint they leave plenty of gloves
upon the ground, having first lined them
with piteh. The monkeys come down,
put on the gloves, but cannot pull them
off again, and, when they are surprised,
betakin gthemselves to the tree as usual
they slide backward and are taken,
Death of Cetowayo,
Cetewayo was the son of Panda and
nephew of Chaka, the Zulu Napoleon,
who on the death in 1812 of Uszenzan-
gacona, ousted his half-brother Uzingu-
jana from the throne, and with the as.
sistance of some men of the Mmtetwa
among whom he had been brought up,
set about reorganizing the Zulu nation,
Chaka’s revolution in Africa warfare
was as great as was wrought in Europe
by the introduction of gunpowder or
the needie-gun, Tribe after tribe was
overthrown and incorporated with the
Zulu nation till sixty peoples owned his
sway, and be had an Old Guard 12,000
or 15,000 strong always prepared on a
moments notice to ‘eat up’ any con
tumacious enemy. In 1828 he was mur-
dered at the instigation of hisbrothers, | N
Dingaan and Umblangane. At hisbar-
jal the brothers fought aduel to decide
the succession, and Umblangane was
killed. Dingaan, though not warlike,
was fond of bloodshed, After his butch-
ery of the Boers he was engaged in a
furious war with the whites, who sab.
sidized his brother Panda to revolt
against him in 1840, with 4.000 soldiers,
Pinda’s rebellion was successful. and
on the 10th of February in that year he
dethroned and killed his brother, in
whose stead be reigned until his death,
October 18, 1872, Cetewayo had been
recognized as heir-apparent after he had
defeated and killed his brother, Umbn-
laze, favorite of Panda, at the bat. | that
tle of in 1850, and acted as re.
gent during the last years of his father’s
formally crowned,
A II AIS
~Chicago has Three “lady dentista.”
It is estimated that in England mors
than 3,500,000 women over 15 years of
ageare in remunerative employment and
able to support themselves confortably.
The city and guilds of London Institute
have established aschool of wooden grav-
ing for women. None areadmitted for
less than a year; so that they leave the
school with an understanding of the
work, Four free studentships are an.
nually awarded after the first year’s
practice. At Albert Hall, South Ken-
sihgton, a school of wood-carving is
established, where it 18 required that
three years at least must be devoted to
learning the art. Doulton & Co. , whose
charming wares are well known, and so
closely resemble Royal Worcester, em.
ploy at their pottery works at Lambeth
120 women permanently in china paint-
ing, the work being done by the plece,
Last year, at the annual exhibition of
Howeii & James, $10,000 worth of
painting on china by ladies was sold,
Painting on glass is also becoming an
important branch of industry for wo.
men in England, as is also plan-fracing,
nd many are employed in printing
offices, Julia Margaret Ciuneron, an
Englishwoman, who died recently at
handsome home on the Isle of Wight,
made a fortune in photography. Her
heads of Tennysons, Browning, Cariyle,
Danvers, Herschel and others are cele-
brated for their excellence,
In France, in the field of art and Jet-
ters, women have received a warm wel-
come, There are upwards of 2,150 lady
artists in thal country, of whom 602
are oil painters, 107 sculptors, 193 min-
ature painters, and 7564 painters on por-
celain, The great Bon Marche in Paris
is under the management of the widow
of its founder, who understands every
detail of the enormous business, and
has a corps of 2,000 employes. In Plent-
eaux, France, there is an extensive typ-
ographical training institute for women,
while at the railways and sigual offices
nearly all of the clerks are women, and
this not for economy’s sake, for they
pay them the same as men, sometimes
even bettér, but because they are more
temperate, and are consequently clear-
headed. Five thousand women in Paris
make artificial flowers, and making lace,
braiding straw bonnets, engraving glass
and working in stone cutters’ shops are
ucrative trades. In Rouen the re is an
agricultural colony for girls,
In Norway and Sweden over 150,000
women are employed in agriculture;
over 10,000 in mines and manufactures;
over 15,000 in medicine. and two or
three score in law, Over 20,000 women
are engaged in watchmaking in Switzer
jand-The finest work Is deputed to
them. Two sisters carry on a gold-
smith and watchmakers’ establishment.
Here a married woman has exactly the
same privileges to work as ‘if she were
single; if she is ill she engages a substi-
tute. By the census of 1871 Was
shown that in England and Wales there
were 23.000 women farmers, and a Mrs,
Millington took the first prize at the
Royal Agricultural Society—a $500 cup
gover twenty-one male competitors.
Her farm has 800 acres, with 820 of ar-
able land. The Derbyshire Agricultu-
ral Society gave in 1873 the second
prize for the best farm to Mrs. Mary
Adcock. In England the project of or-
ganizing a woman's horticultural college
is being considered, to enable women
more generally to become florists. They
have an especial knack in the arrange-
ment of flowers, A German ladyhasa
small store at Lubeck for the sale of
candied fruits and preserved meats and
vegetables; she has a branch house in
London, and her goods are imported to
this country and finds a ready sale In
New York and Philadelphia,
Flotsingen, Wartemburg, has a brig-
ade of forty-two water carriers belong-
ing to the fire department, each of the
four squads being commanded by a *‘fe-
male corporal.” In Sweden there isan
agricultural school for girls. In Berlin
there is a large society for the general
employment of womer, Vienna has a
poted ladies’ orchestra, the leader of
which is a woman. Brussels has a
school into which 300 pupils (giils) are
admitted and taught to design wall pa-
per, jewelry, lacé or lithography or em
graving, to model or carve furniture or
paint on glass or porcelain. Stockholm
has a school of nearly 800 girls who are
engraving, modeling in clay or wax,
wood and copper engraving, lithography,
bookbinding, ete., at a cost of 14 cents
a month.
There is a large government school in
Naples, Italy, for flower and glove mak-
ing, and at Florence school of design
for women; another at Milan which has
200 pupils, Telegraphy is a favorite
employment for women in that city, At
Turin there is a large professional
school for women, Vienna has a Wo-
men’s Industnal Union, the object of
which is to endeavor to remove the pre-
judice against swploying women, and to
instruct them in new trades. And this
is but a brief summary of the hundreds
of industries in which the women of
other climes are employed.
If you count the sunny sad sluady
Jat the Whils yess will find
Fodgpodiicendhun Rk Phy
4
iv
draw aftegtion,
EE