Poetic Answers.
what is rom ciiaractrr?
A rare compound ol oddity, frolic and lan,
To rclUh a |oko and rejoioo in a pun.
—(.iohUmilh.
That ot tlie epicure, who, eerenoly fill, may
say,
Rate ennnot harm mo; I have dined to-day.
—Swift.
Luxurious avaricious, laUe, dccoitlul,
Sullen, malicious, smacking of every sin that
lias a name. —Shakespeare.
wii vt is torn cmxv atthactios?
Thou hunt tlie sweetest lace I ever looked on.
1 —Shakespeare.
Hood sense which only is the gift ot Heaven,
And though no science, lairiy worth tlie seven
—Pope.
A lortn so fair, that like the air
Tie less of earth than heaven.
—K. K. Pinkney.
He is so full of pleasant anecdote,
8o rich, so gny, so poignant in his wit :
Time vanishes before him as he s|>enks,
And ruddy morning through the lattice peep*
—Joanna lluillie.
WHAT DO Toll I.IKK tIKNT.
'that all-sol toning, overpowering knell.
The tocsin ol the soul —the dinner liell.
—Byron.
A slight flirtation by the light ola obandolier.
With music to play in the pausw
And nobody very near. —Willis.
Cold • (told ! (Jold ! Ootd !
Bright and yellow, hard and cold.
—Hood.
' Hive me kisses ! all is waste save the luxury o
the taste,
And lor kissing—kisses live only w hen we take
or give,
me, then, V !
gvery moment—and again. —J (J. Saxe.
WHAT IK> TOC PISUKR MOST'
("if every bore,
It to Uie list you add a score,
Are not so bail, upon my lile.
As thai one scourge, a scolding wile.
—Beroi. !
Coarse speech, had grammar, wwnng,
Drinking, vice. —llolmc*.
Drunkenness, whose vile incontinence
Take both away, the reason snd the sense.
It drown* Uie better parte, making the name t
To foes a laughter, to Iricmbt a shame.
—Kandolph
Home-made physic that sickens the sick,
Thick tor thin and thin lor thick, —llood.
who is Torn ivrKsnap?
A ported woman nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort and command,
And yet a spirit still and bright.
With something of an angel's light.
—Wordsworth.
A judge, a man so learned,
So full ol equity, so noble—envy
Itself cannot accuse, or malice vitiate.
—Cliapinan and Shirley.
A hungry, lenn-faced villain,
A mere anatomy, a mountebank,
A thread-Wire juggler, and fortune-teller,
A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch.
—Shakespeare.
A roaebud set with willlul thorn*
A* sweet n* English air can make her.
—Tennyson. 1
what is ton ninnasT ammtio*?
To go to church to-lay,
To look devout and seem to ptay,
And ere to-morrow's sun goes down
Be dealing slander through the town.
—Mr*. Sigouroey.
To drees as the nobles dress.
In cloth of *ilvor and gold.
With silk aad satin and enatly lura
In many an ample fold. —Hood.
Oh, grant me, Heaven, a middle state,
Neither too humble, nor too great,
More than enough (or nature's ends,
With something lelt to treat my friend*.
-Mallet.
Oh, gin me the lass that hae acres of charm*;
Ob, gie me loss wi the weel stockit farm '
—Burn*.
Then let me get money as bee* lay up honey ;
111 build new hives and store each cell,
The sight ol my tieasure will yield me great
pleasure,
111 count it, and chink it, and jingle it well,
—Dr. Franklin.
WHAT IS TOC* VAVOBTT* VbOWRR?
Magnifleent raila, in mantle of milk.
--Mrs. Signurney.
The ehate enmelias pure and spotless bloom,
That toasts no fragrance and conceal* no
thorn. —William Iloaros.
And (juth that a thousand ills can brave
Speaks in thy blue leaves, "forget-me-not."
—Percival.
Koe, thou art the sweetest flower.
—Burns.
ntr is th* char act** or roc* nrr**i>*D f
She takes the most delight
In music, instruments and poetry.
—Shakespeare.
The solemn lop, significant am) hedge,
A fool with ju'lges, and among fools a judge,
—Cowper.
She has read her lather * well-Ailed library
with profit.
And can t*lk charmingly: she can sing
And piny, too, passably, and dance with spirit
Mm is knowing in all needlr-work;
And shine* in kitchen a* well as parlor.
—J. N. Barker.
He in a scholar, and a ripe and good one,
Kseeediugly wise, lair Sfsiken and persuading.
—.thakespcore.
WHAT I* TOC* IIKSTIXT ?
Never wedding, never wooing,
Mill a lovelorn heart pursuing.
—Campbell.
To lie a man ol rank and of capacious soul
To riches have, ami lame beyond desire.
Ami Imir to flsttery, to titles born
And reputation and Inxurions life.
—Hohert Bollock.
Single ns a stray glove, minus its mate.
—Fanny Kemble.
WIIRR* WIU TOI'R HOMK HR?
Wktf liensts with man divided empire claim,
Aad the brown Indian marks with murderous
aim- —(ioldsmith.
Where from the rise ol morn to set of Run
The mighty Mohawk runs,
•
And the ilark wood* of pine
Along hi* mirror darkly shine.
—Moor*.
In imn enchanted win,
WlimhMTOi and lovs thnir Sablmtli hold.
—Campbell.
DAUGHTER.
Mm. Dnl/'ttnnU" hml invilotl ft crowd
of people to hour a whlUvlmiml man
of lofty artistic pedigree read. She wiui
fond of patronizing talent. When Mr.
Konthle had given his Sir Anthony Ab
solute and Sir l'eter Teazle. Mrs. He
IA" tt ante went about among her guest.*
and explained that she had still another
pleasure in store for them: Miss Hilda
Wiese would now recite. Miss Wiose j
was a (ÜbuhinU, hut they would see
site had great possibilities. Mr. Kern
hie had spoken to her of the young ,
lady, who intended to lieootno n pro- I
fessionni reader; he was enthusiastic in ,
lier praise.
So, after a brief interval, a young
girl was led forward, who recited por- j
lion* of Maine's lH<autiful and touching '
story witn native ease and grace. She j
stood in tin- third of the suite of rooms j
that opened one into anotlo r. Behind
her was a background of white (lowers
arranged on graduated st<M>s, a mass of j
hyacinths rhmfly and dattodils (it was j
spring). She was a (lower of spring
herself, with the ineffable glory and j
charm of youth nliout her: serene, wide,
brow, from which heavy dark hair wan '
| swept to one side; the outlines of her j
I fa e pure and harmonious, and strong !
j rather than delicate; in her cheeks the
( fresh, steady color that rarely outlasts
: girlhood, bite wore a quaintly simple j
I black silk gown, the sleeves cut to the j
j elbows and tleeeily milled with white;;
! the same white effect at her throat.
Her voice was rich and soft, and full.
| Her recitation charmed; there was a
I murmur of pleased surprise. When *he
! hml done she simply fell back a step or
I two against the tiers of (lowers. She
I helped herself to a daffodil, and stisxl
carelessly swinging it, listening tosoine
! thing kind which the elocutionist said
| to her. I
Presently Mrs. lie I/> I tan to came ui>
with a tall, fair young man of a studi
ous aspect, whom she made' known to
1 Miss YVie.se as Hr. Houglass. As this
i young man bowed in acknowledgement
I of the introduction, he said to himself,
j " Denieter's daughter, fair and free," ,
out of a swis't rhyme-hook of his sister's.
" You gave me a great dml of pleas- j
i lire," he said, with a touch of the self. '
j confidence of youth in the worth of its;
own praise.
"Hid 1? I am very glad."
"As for Mrs. lie Is-ttante, she i* ■
fairly ruffled with complacency at hav
ing sponsored you."
" Mr*. lie Is-ttante has lieen very good
to me."
" You have repaid her. She is the
woman in search of a mission. F**>k
i at her now, magnetizing that little dark
man with those restless hazel eyes of
hem."
"She i* very gracious and handsome." ;
" Kxtreniely so in her sweeping satin
' robes— Nile gr<s-n you ladii-s call that
; color, do you not?—stately, dark-haired,
fair-skinned. I wonder who the ugly
little man is?"
"Mr. Kemble told me. He i* n
Frenchman. a duke. Hi* father was
made a duke hv the emperor at Sol- i
ferino. He inherits the title."
I " PastelKtard nobility."
"There has to lie a beginning to every
thing. Bravery is its own pedigree. ;
Did you ever fiear what Nadir replied
j when ' Delhi's throne inquired the an
: cestry' of his son?
"' My child is noble, tor, though lowljr horn, |
He is the son snd grandson of the swonl.' "
Her simple enttiusmsm was contagious.
"No doubt you anil Nadir— is that j
his name?—are right. Here eotnes Mrs.
lie Ijcttante with lor duke. He is like
: .Jacob—lie halts on his thigh."
The Due de Bonne Fortune was prc-
Itented in hi* turn. He wa* not unat
tractive personage, upon the whole; a*
1 you have gathered, little and dark, and
i very lame. He was a man who had
, lived in the world and for the world, and
I his life had left no impress of any lofty
j impulse upon hi* fare; on tlie contrary,
there were linesof craft and guile around
his mouth and "eye*. ||e wa* no longer
young, but t looked older than his;
' actual age. ' Still he howcd traces of
1 the old-world civilization he had sprung
from; there was a gay sparkle and
vivmity aiiout his conversation which
disposed Hilda in bis favor. All women
like to lie amuK'd Besides, in her up
right vigor she felt a "divine com pas
| sion" for his ir firmit v.
Dr. Douglass drifted away with Mrs.
De Is'ttante, who said, going: " Do you
; know Mrs. Wiese? There site is. ail by
herself in that corner, (if course she i*
■ almost a stranger here. I a*k*l her for
! the daughter's sake. I wisli you would
! talk to her."
Douglas* agreed readily. Douglass
! was not singular in hi* alacrity to he
; civil to tlie mother nf a beautiful datigli
i tcr. And Mrs. Wiese proved to lie
charnrng on her own account—literally
charming, with the unhackneyed and
fresh cheerfulness of n child. She had a
j "primrose face"—a phrase | like to bor
row from Owen Meredith to descritie n
I certain type of fare that never entirely
loses its "youth— with ready smiles, and
I changing color, and clear eyes, add, in
j her ease, sunny chestnut hair (the color
ing should lie bright). An ibttllc
spark was struck Is'twivn Douglas* a-d
j liersi'lf. She like.) young men in a de
i light fill, motherly way. that always
bore in mind Iter own half-grown hoys.
And young men invariably liked her.
She talked frankly to Douglass: among
other tilings, alxsit her husband's deli
cate health and failing sight. Douglass
had made a specialty of diseases ol tlie
eye. and lent ..I intelligent interest. He
said lie should 1m liononsi if Mrs. Wiese
would permit him to call upon herself
and her hu*lvaml; lie did not add, "and
your daughter." although at that very
moment Ids gaze was resting on the
ealm young Persephone in the next
room, who, still idly twirling her snowy
daffodil, was talking to the pasteboard
! duke.
Istter in the evening Douglass fell in
! again with Mrs. De Lcttonto. "They
tell roe," he said, indieating Hilda,
j "that that Ftcautlfuf child Is destined for
the stage. I confess I am sorry to hear
! " She has a gift. To my thinking, it
! Isdongs to the world."
j "And so she will dim lier loveliness
behind the footlights, and lose the bloom
of her reticence and modesty." ■
" Not necessarily. An ordinary woman
might. An aftist is im crsonnl; lier
, | own identity is completely merged.
, Happy she! Most women's Uvea stag
nate for want of an outlet."
Douglass csrri*l out his intention of
1 railing upon the Wloses, ami found tliem
| living inn house very small, very shabby
and forlorn, in tlie Ntiburh* af tiie town.
However, Mrs. Wiese and Hilda were
more delightful than ever, and Douglas*
*aton **ti(T cane-bottomed chair on a
ciirjietlcsH floor, and lii* heart sung with
in him. It wn* all so unconstrained and
bright and pleasant. Fhe father was a
musician, a composer, an organist; now,
in his feeble condition of body, very
querulous and irritalile. Hut Douglass
conceived a hope that lie slioiild Ih-able
to do something for Id* eye*. Mr. Wie*c
was a Herman by birtli; he had never
learned to master his wife'* mother
tongue. Hut he was exceedingly volu
hle in Ids own broken guttural. lie
never wearied of pouring lilt) complaint*
into Douglas*' ears. And Douglass
listened with exemplary patience—nay.
Interest—for Hilda's sake.
Yes, for Hilda's sake. It had come to
that. He had yielded to a sentimental
fancy at first sight; now. at second and [
third sight, lie hud fallen in love des- i
perately, with an absorbing energy j
which colored his whole nature, impart- j
ing sinew and muscle to Ids ambition.
It seemed to him now that he had never
known before what was genuine ambi
tion. He grew feverish with Impatience, j
H<- was a poor man; lie c-oulu barely !
supnort hit*clf. If lie should suj>-
jmrt a wife, it must be in tlie simplest, |
plainest way. Would Hilda he willing? j
in marrying, Hilda would he called upon
to make more special sacrifices than most j
women make when they marry. He al
most feared that she would "never like
him well enough to make these sacrifices
for liiin.
He knew that Hilda was meanwhile
studying hard, preparing forh'-r arduous
profession. Besides, she was giving les
son* in elocution. Poor little thing!
How ho long'd to work for them both!
H>- was with In-r eons'antly; after a
while, every evening. '1 hose delicious
spring day* suggested country t ambles,
lioating—anything which furnished an
e v use for fa-ing together. As for Hilda,
she (tared not Mop to realize how happy
she was in this constant companion
ship. Sim dared not realize tluit sin
sitnjily delightui in lite liecause it
brought Douglass to herat the end of tin
long days.
Tltose days were shared almost as in
variably with M. De Honnc Fortune,
lb-liad followed up his aequaintaneea*
vigorously a* hail Douglass, appearing
at the Wieses'dingy littb- hou*.- fa-hind
a jiair of superb black steeds in gold
mounted lianu-ss. 11. whirled Hilir-iofT
in this showy equipage one fine day.
Her father stood in the little doorway
looking after them, shading hi* inflamed
eye* with his hand. " lie i* in luf in it
Hilda. 1 can sec dat," lie said loins wife.
" It vill pea g*>t ting for u* alle."
Mr*. \Viese's hriglit face clouded. Her
own choice for lu-r daughter would Is- a
different one. Nor had -Ie- failed to rio
tiee the ligliting Up of Hilda's fan- wln n
Douglass eauie and went.
Mr. WW was right. M lb-Bonne
Fortune hail fallen in love wit It Hilda.
It was nothing to liitn who -lie was.
who her people were. Site would be
afiove eritu inn a* the Duehi-is de lionne
Fortune. lie determined to niarry lu-r
from theOUt-et. Herotisidered it hardly
prohalile tiiat the fju-ls tliat he was yel
low and wizened and lame, and Hilda's
s-.nior hy certainly fifteen or twenty
years, would weigh in tlie Imlanei
against the advantage* of his title and
hi* wealth.
Nor iliil they when it rame to the
point. It sinned to lu-r that it wa* lu-r
duty to aetiqit him. Ilerfatlier iiad said
as much to her from time to time during
the week* that the dtlke's black 1 burgers
■wept lii* glittering chariot to and from
town. Moreover, the duke made liis
offer to tlie father in tlie first plai-e, and
the father in repeating it urge,! tin- suit
in every way.
" He has promise to settle an indebent
ent fortune on you." Mr. Win* urged.
"Mitdat you can do vat you choose.
And lie vil set Oscar up in husincsa ven
in- has tinisli school next year. It vil pe
a go-it ting for us all, Hildachen."
Yes," nilda said. " I sunpfeu- it will.
I will marry liiin, fatiier; and liaving
f riven in-r consi-nt. -he f.-lt a* though sle
i.-ul Us k' d herself into a Jirison.
That evening Douglas* came. M. De
Bonne Fortune, wlio dined late in tin
city, rarely sjs-nt an evening at tlie
Wlews', and it so happened that lie and
Douglass had never met. Hilda felt like
a traitor as she followed t|,e young man
down to tlie boat—they hail an engage
ment to go rowing. Tlie language of
love is easy ol interpretation: she had
mid it in liis look* and in his voice a
hundred times Besides, site could inter
nret it hy the key of her own fn-lings.
But she made up tier mind that lie slmuM
learn of her engagement from her own
lips. If lie wa* pained, no one but her
self should we his pain.
When she had told him, DoUghtx*
rowed on in silence for a while. Then lie
said, " I have no doubt you have dn-idisl
wisely. The children of this world are
in their generation wiser than tlie chil
dren of light. You have my gi*nl wishes,
of course; you resign some tilings—vour
art."
" Yes," she replied, wretchedly. " But
a woman cannot always think of her
self." They rowed on in silence for
anotlier while. I're-ently sin- sliivered
and Sllgge-tid that tliey should ri-turn
liome. "It is so cold on tlie water to
night." Poor girl! she was cold to the
heart.
The tears stood in Mrs. Wiese'* moth
erly eye*, and there was a weight on her
heart, as heart and eye* faith followed
tlie young man a* he strode down the
road, liaving said farewell that night,
lie wa* the mate site would have chosen
for Hilda, in spite of waiting, in spite of
poverty. Alii*! alio believed, she fi-arisl,
that Hilda did not rare for M. De Bonne
Fortune. She was taking up the unutter
■ able cross of a loveless life. She went to
her daitgliter on tlie spur of tlint convic
tion, but Hilda jiut lu-r away with a cold
kiss. " Dear mamma, let it be as 1 have
j decided. It is liest. lam not like you:
I have not tlie same necessity for loving."
Tlie golden chariot with Its coal-black
' steeds drew up in front of tlie Wieses'
little cottage for tlie laat time and whirled
Hilda away, after tlie marriage cere
monv had been performed in the earpet
less little parlor— whirled lu*r off to a life
as different from that of lu*r girlhood as
though she had indeed died to tier former
! self.
Once on tlieir voyage out Iter liuslmnd
; found lu-r crying, tier meed bowed on
lier folded arms, as she gazed out ujain
i the lonesome waste of waters. •• Home,
i sick?" lie asked, half friendly, half re
j provlngly. Then, taking the fact for
granteiV,lie went on: "My child, never
1 look liai-kward; it does no good."
i To the outward seeming she llvi*d a
i golden life in Paris of ease and luxury
nnd grandeur, atwped in all the extrava
gance and display of the second empire.
Nor did she tail to carry out her inten
tion* toward her jmrents In America.
•She sent tliem, year hy year, mil of her
i superabundaneo, enough fo keep the
I Wolf from tlie door. Nor wa* tlie duke'a
promise to Oscar forgotten. Til* boy
was established in a well-known hanking
house nftor a year or so of additional
schooling.
But there were time* wlien, in spite
of alltlii*. Hilda De Bonm-Fortune asked
herself whether her grand marriage had
Iss-n wortli while! To fa* *ure, *lic had
not fa-en guilty of the baseness of marry
ing for her own mere meat and raiment,
hut all the same she hail learned hy a
wearisome experience how infinitely ha*
were thesiithun the demand* of the soul.
It bored tier to dentil to lie a line liuly.
It seemed to her that she was a very
ghost of her former self; that that had
•linl long ago, when she had closed the
door upon the real things of life—the '
art siie had surrendered, the mutual
love she might have worn like a crown. I
She grew quiet and pals, and her bus- j
hand noticed it, and rcjiroaclict) her for
it fretfully. Had he not married her
for her yoiiili and freshness? She must
exert herself; she must go into the
world; she must dress in a manner fa--
fitting lu-r station. He did not choose
Ids wife to lie a dowdy. When lie re
proached her lie dropped the mask of
Ids smooth gallantry. He was a* oiit
sjmken and as rough and coarse n* though
he had not fa-en educated in the foremost
of modern civilizations.
The jioor .ittie duchess was in despair.
Will.in was there to turn to? Slie
against the hard, cold world! There 1
was a church not far off. A fancy
seized her to go thcr". Sle- had *c<-n h-r
mother come out of a church sometimes
with a wonderful look of jieai-c on le-r
face. She might might find |#eiu-e too.
She tisik her maid with her—since she
never more went quite free now—and
strayed into the great, quirt eath'-drul.
Slie drojijieil down on lu-r knees. She
thought of * storm, and of a voice that
came in the storm, and of the ialm that
followed. And presently tle-re was u
calm with her.
A calm, and a strength that is only
horn of calm. She went about her ways
serenely -. she mini Iter kingdom beauti
fully. If slie had made a grave mistake,
she did not sit down with folded hands
in its shallow. Poor little soul! slie had
strayed into hade*; but sh<- became the
light, tlie tranquil moonlight, of the
place.
in a day of unfaith and of materialism
and of niauiinon worship, she was true
to her own ideals of goodness and loveli
ness. She never lost her childlike na
ture. her innoeen e, her simplicity.
Tlie worldly men and women afanit h-r
treated le-r with n certain half-pitying
reverence.
So slie made lier j,eaee with life, witli
nature, a* the pagans would have ".aid,
and a* we ( hristians still pliraae it,
with a devouter and more tilial signifi
cance.
But in so making her reconciliation
she must alo tlnd her way back to her
old place in tlie h< art of tlie bright-faced
little woman aero** the ocean who iiad
K-tit lu-r fortii so retuetantly to lut mnr
rinl life. Slie had written to her mother
cold and studied letters during tlie first
month* of her married life; it wa* ni
until she liad eonqui-n-d her disapjiolot
nicnt and her loneliness that she could
write to iter a* she u*ed to talk to lu-r,
with tlie otitjKuiring of Iter heart.
t tne ev-ning at a rrovAhsl reii'ption at
her liotel, a tall, fair man. with the
*lig!illv *tsijied shoulder* of the student,
made hi* way through the throng, and.
h' ltating slightly, faiwed presently over
her htinif.
" I wa* by no mean* sure it wa* ?ou,
M ailanm !••- Bonne Fortune." Dr.
Doiigla** said. And in truth she was
sufficiently altered to have made rn-ogni
tion difficult. She h.-ol her fresh
color; the mild ro*e bloom hail given
|da< eto the pallor of the lily. Tln-re
wa* an outlisiking patience now in lier
eyes, and there were shadow* under theju
t fiat told of sleepless iiiglit* and restless
day*. But if the luMer of her youthful
twnuty wa* dimmed, perhaps the splen
dor of the setting uffiii-d to make
amends. Her palace was verv splendid;
her toilette was a triumph in its way;
Icr fair Itemd was diademed with dia
mond*. She looked the qun-n that she
was in the world of fashion.
" I seem to tie in a dream," Dr. Ibmg
las* went on; "or rather it seems tome
that it must havefai<n in a dream that
we once took i-ountry ramh)i-s together
down sliaiiv lanes, and wild
(lowers, anil r-iwui afanit in a boat, and
did various otlmr rustic things. Part of
the dream wa* that you wore a white
straw hat trimmed with scarlet j>ojtj>ic*.
Your dn*** is trimmed with scarlet pop
pies to-night. I sec."
" Poppies an 1 said to be the flowers of
dream*. A* far as that goi>. this scene
to-night is the dream for tne. lam not
accustomed to my grandeur yet; it is still
unreal. Oh, Dr. Douglass "—dropping
ln-r voici—" how i* my mother ? it le-n
did you see her ?"
Poor little qtin-n ' then- were tears in
her eye*. Ismking into lu-r earn'-t fiiee,
and so into tlie soul fa-hind it, it did in
diiil appear as tliougli lu-r line clothe*
and liit jewel* were a mask, and a*
though she were holding court in a veri
table place of shade*. Dr. Dor,g!a* had
thought hard thing* of h< r; lie liad called
her a mern-nnry worldlng. He took it
all fau-k now; lie forgave lier; ho pitied
her.
After tiist, Hilda never nMed until
slie had sn-n lier mother fan- to fai-e.
Her conversation with Dr. Douglass
hroiiglit uji tlie pii*t so vividly that she
could not tie satisfied without. So in the
spring she cross*-d tlie Atlanth*. witli lier
little retinue of man nnd maid, two years
after lier marriage.
Slie knocked at the door of tlie shabby
I .ittie house slie used to call home, late
one evening. It was May. In the twi
light gloom *lic could distinguish famil
iar flowers in the *mnll garden—heart'*-
ease and daffodils. She stoojicd and
plucked a daffodil, her favorite flower,
as slie Waited for them to ojw-n the door.
It* fragrance carried her straight back to
lier happy, hopeful girlhood. It brought
; up such a look to lier face tliat when Tier
mother caught lier to lier arin* present
ly. It seemed to lier tliat lier Hilda liad
never fa-en away at all.
Since then years have rolled slowly on.
But every sjiring lias brought Hilda
across tlie highway of tlie is-cnn. Slie
I and her mother have been one in heart
ever since. Tliey have lived chiefly in
the time of their reunion and in tlie look
ing forWßial to it and the nuienibering
■ it. Always when the daffodil* hloom
Mrs. Wiese gnthers grvnt bundle* of
them, and fills with them the vases in
Hilda's room, and makes ready for lier
darling. And tlie jiale little duchess re
joices hi thefaiitit v of the spring flowers,
and goes hack to Paris with alltlie more
heart to tlie wearing of lier dark-hearted
| jwinpies in winter.
Sedan comes and goes, "faiwling
down" the Second Empire,and sweep
ing away tlie fortunes or many of its no-
Ides; butM. lb- llopne Fortune went hers
tlie crisis, and Madame ike Bonne For
| tune still Imld* her shifting court.
1 The child of nature, gifted as are tlie
favored children of our great mother:
the ill-favored lord; the coal-black
sUnls; the daffodils, such a* grew on
Knna; the popple* that brought forget
fulneee: the yearly visit to m purer air;
the Hade* throne—All these feature* in
mi old-world story have come into my
mind ne I have written of a Persephone
of to-dny.— lhirprr'n Hatar.
A llattle in a Printing Office,
A letter from St. Petersburg to tlie
Nw Yo'k l/rralil giv-s del ail* of the de
scent hy the |lie< of Kief ujion a mi-ret
Nihilist printing office at that place and
the fearful struggle which followed. The
letter My: Tim policemen W'-nt in iiy
the way indicated for the urn- of the in
mates of the house, l<ut were tired at the
moment they made their appearance.
Seeing them Helve* in the min it of Home
dozen resolute and armed youth* the po
licemen thought it prudent to retire, and
went to the nearest police Mat ion for re
inforeementi. The XihiliM* hiul no time
to remove anything and did not choose
to give tlieirt over to the police cheaply.
They lout no time in getting up n plan of
action and of defence against toe cx
pccted attack. Thirty-four policemen
returned. Some were stationed around
the lIOUHC AH OUtpOHtH Atll tile rest went
directly in hy the gate* of the yard,
which had a two-storied house on the
riglit hand and one on the 1< ft. All the
windows of the second floor*, a* w-l| a*
the roofa of the two houses, were oceu
pled ly armed student*. who .welcomed
the police with a hWeeping volley of
bullet*. Three policemen t. il dead on
the spot' the rent retired fo • onsulta
tion. They determined to < uter the
house. intending to fall upon tic- Nihil
iiti who remained down Maim in charge
of the hook* and the pretne-H. And
liere, in a large room, wax enacted a
f'-arful mi ne, The tight became gene,
ml. and the result wai a* follows: <tn
the -ide of the police folir men r'-ci-jvcd
light wound*, thru were seriously in
jured and four killed on the *pot. Tim
losses oil th< H : de of the Nihilist* were,
it aeem. Mill greater- four y<ung girl",
student* of the univeriity, and three
atudentH kilh-d. while all the other*
were wounded and lintillv nrresb*! iy
tin- police • The police M !//i1 tie- print
ing prn and a great number of inter
dicted (took* of foreign pubiieation.
How man* people were arretted in ail
I do not know, an the number of po
litical prisoner* is not fully given hy
the official report*.
Hut the afl'air did not end here. Sim
ultaneously two otlmr girls and several
men were arrested in the neighborhood
of the printing office. Then Mile.
Hcrzfeld was arrested—a daughter of a
tjeneral iierzfehl, who occupies a high
position in St. Petersburg, being a
number of the State Council. Tim
young and r<*nnwmd f'ountce* Panin,
belonging to one of the oldest Russian
families. was also taken. Ib-r step
inotlier is reported to l- still one of
the if'irnri <Thnnnrur of t ie empr'-se,
and her great-grandfather was tie- see
<>nd Chancellor of State in the time of
Catherine the tireat. 1 am told that
fa.ih young laiii'i w. re t ik-n in tlm
a< t of tiring at the poltofl with tlt*
volv<T*. It i not to is- wondered at
that girls of high families are found in
volved in such disturbances. Tlie wo
men of Russia have repeatedly taken
part in tiio liianifi-Mation* of national
aspirations, a* for instance, Martha
Pos-uuinizo. of Novgorod; the Prince-**
Sophia, Peter the flrcat'* enterprising
sister. and other*. Russian ladies in
the olden tine* of domestic seclusion
< ould not lc kept wholly from taking
an active part in popular movement*,
and nowaday* they take a lively share
in all that concerns their husband* and
brothers, and are quit* r-ady to sup
port them when the occasion comm.
About Fditors.
F.very editor loves to have his frieed,
snd particularly hi* reader*, call on him
They Isdong to th* same family, a* it r re.
Hut wlun you call lo see jhr editor, don't
stay too long. Rlito-s are generally very
busy in business hours. If you hare a sug.
gestion to make, or news to eommunieate
state it in the fewest wonf* |*>seihle. Don't
ofler any excuses, or indulge in a long
preface to what you have to say. Pdurt it
right out; tell the editor you wish him
well, and hid him good-day. Editors dote
on auch men a* that; they love to receive
calls from them. Don't argue with them
---don't try to do it. They hare no time for
argument while at work.
When you write to an editor for publica
tion, make it short—boil it down. Pitch
right into the middle of your subject, and
lie sure to stop when you are through. Eli
tor- always like something fresh and origi
nal in the way of communications, and are
especially f--nd of news, ltut the editor
must always lie the jndge of what is worthy
of pubiieation. Ol course, every writer
thinks his own publication the first, just a*
every mother thinks her baby the prettiest
that waseverhorn. ltut the editor may hem
stupid as to have a different opinion. If ao.it
ran't t* helped. Don't try to argue him
out of his notion, if he is too stupid to
remedy his dullness. You may think you
are a peat deal smarter than the editor
and this may he true; hut the editor may
j lie responsible, and you are not. There is
ro class of people who are so anxious to
please a majority of jieople as editors are.
There ia no class so mvetou* of the good
opaiion of others. It ia well to remember
thai fact. HtrhnW;,*.
The Friends.
A New York paper savs: The Quakers,
j or Friends, are said to have been dimin
ishing slowly though steadily during tlie
last twenty years, in consequeni-e of tlie
secularization of manv of the younger
jieople bom in the society. Their faith
and life are simple, and their ways so
gentle and honest, as to Is- in sharp
contrast to much of tlie complicated and
artificial wants and manners of the lattT
half of tlie nineteenth century. Many
members of the society in Philadelphia,
win re tliey are far more numerous than
in any other Htv in the Union, are anx
-1 |ou* to correct the decreasing tendency of
the body, and am zealously engaged in a
\ movement for tlie formation or settle
ment* in the West. Tlie Friends have
iiecn so scattered and isolated in tlint
section as to gradually lose interest in
their habit* and principles. The inten
tion is to organize an association which
*hall purchase tract* of land, and sell
farm* and lot* on easy terms, either to
Friends or those in sympathy with
them, and to aid such jiersons as I lava
limitiil means witli money to erect
dwellings and develop their scanty ro
source*. Tlie association nrojiosos tc
lay out roads, put up school and meet
ins-house*, and push forward nil need
ful and worthy enterprises. Tlie West
< nn have no better or more useful or mom
desirable citizens, for tlie name of
Quaker lias become everywhere a syn
onym nfpurity, ordiT thrift, and iienevo
lehi-e. The Whole number of Friend* ia
•Miniated at present at 1 <IO,OOO, of whom
iM.fIUO belong to the United State*.
Tb Two Light*.
" WWn I'm a man," tb* stripling cries.
Au/1 strivs* the "lining jrmnt Ui seau
" Ail, than I ►hull Ixi strong an'l wise,
Wbn I'm a man '
" When I *m voimg," Uu old man sigh
" bravely the Lirl. and linnet "nog
llieir carol nn'lar minny slues,
When I wiut young
'• When I'm n Winn, I aim!) be frnn
To gtuir<l the right, the truth uphold.'
" Whin I hub young I l*-nt no bwa
To (>owcr or gold,"
•' Then abalt I naliafy my tool
" With yonder prize, when I'm a man.''
" Too late I found how a ion the g<ml
To which I ran."
" When I'm it rnitn tiieee i'Ue toy*
Aahie forever thall lie dung."
" Iliere wan no poison in my joya
When I waa young."
TV Imy'a bright dreato U all liefore,
'llie man'a romance iiea far belaud.
Had we the present and no more,
I'ute wi-re unkind.
Hut, brother, toiling in the night,
Mill count youraell not all mihleai
If in Ihe rtiat there g euuui a light,
fir ill the treat.
Hlarku'Wrl'i Mnjaitnr.
HUMS OF INTEREST.
A tub race—Washerwomen.
Hon-shinc—That made by a bootblack.
There arc in Ttiu 175,ri94,V50 seres of
land.
The |ieanu( < rufi thir tear it ndimaUtJ at
I,iKK,OUO hurheU.
There are fourteen rx governor* in the
United States Senate.
I'ij.ie two fii t long nre smoked in th*
street in < olUin, f'al.
Missouri lin* sixteen counties in whica
there is not h single liquor saloon.
The Inking of tlie United States eon
-us next ji-ar will cost about $1,000,000.
There is a jtopnlation in the Frenchcolo
nic*, and i**ceion abroad, including Al
geria, of . r >,41dt,410.
It it very dangerous to make up your
judgment concerning a young lady't weight
by measuring her sighs.
A erhnolhoune it to lw built at lirad
tille, (xd . which show* that the I>ead- %
villi arte desire to improve their minds.
" Father, is thai a goose—that big white
bird?" " No, my l>oy, that bird is lb*
swan—that iintim-ulate giraffe of tha
wave!"
Philadelphia, which eight yenra
had only sut'in shoe factories. has now
over I*o. Their arinual production ia
"•timat'-d at 4H,noo,fi(Ki patra.
Ilure was a jonng man in 'HI < ity.
Wlao consutrred himself very witty,
lie got off a pun
To furnish the crowd fun,
I he way they lamtiiatl hitn was a pity
Hrrrirk.
A factory in Hanover, (iermanv. make#
glass in <Toi imitation of tnarMe. and
the tables, floor, tiles, etc., which it
turn* out, arc preferable to marble
on account of superior hardness.
The tierman government has prohibited
lecture* on emigration, leal the alluring
pictures of an easier and happier life ia
other lands should encourage young men in
t* aping the detested years of barrack life.
According to the annual report of the
Hank Itcpartment, the amount due to the
dejiosifors of the twentv-nine savings
banks that have failed In eight years
wa* £ 14.f10.107': of which the* have re
ci ved 137.M11; leaving $0.t?2.51 yet
due. of which tliev land a chance of get
ting f1.43fi.421
Now the noisy wcssls are sul!;
April's eoming up the hill'
All the spring is in her train,
Iwd try shining ranks of rain
l'it. it, |llrr, jwtter,
Sudden sun. and jwlter. patter '
First the blue, and then tha shower.
Hunting hod, and smiling flower,
brooks set free with tinkling ring,
birds too full of song to sing;
I try obi leave* astir with pnde.
Where tlie Umid rkileta bide —
All things ready with a will—
April's coming up the hill'
—St .Nira •
< >ne of the most remarkable n m of the
mountain country it* (icnctil Jarvia
Jackson. tif Ixindon, l-nurr) county. Kv.
lie is ninety-nine years of age. has lii*
second sight, and reads tlie hnest print
without spectacles. Tlie old gentb-man
is hale and heart v. is at present chair
man of tin-laianf of trustors, has served
heretofore in tlie Senate and House of
Representatives, and lias been a leading
Denuxrat for many years in I-auret
county. He is the issue of the first mar
riage ver solemnised in Madison county,
Uatirel hav ing then lx-en part of this
county. He owns much land in thi
section, i a mnn of means, and still su
perintends his business affairs without
assistance. He has I men attending the
State Jb-mocratic conventions for the
past twenty years, and announces his in
tent ionj of Ix-ing present at the May con
vention. — Itichmomi (Ay.) Ilrgi4fr.
The lsrge-4 infant at birth of whirh there
is any authenticated record was torn in
O oon the 12(h of last January. The new*
bo n boy was twenty-three and three quar
ter pounds in weight (the ordinary weight
being about six pounds), and thirty im hen
in height (the ordinary height heing about
twenty inches). The circumference of the
head was nineteen inchest and the foot was
five and a half inches in length. Sit yi ar*
ago the same woman became the mother of
a child eighteen pounds in weight and
twenty-four inches in height. The sire and
weight of the hahe, though extraordinary,
are proportionate to the aire of the parents.
The mother, Mrs. M. V. Bates, ol Nova
Scotia, is seven feet and nine inches high,
and the father, a Kenturkian, is seven feet
w-ven inches high. The Ixmdon Hospital
Museum csn Imast no longer of its giant
infant, which * only twenty-four inches
high, with the head thirteen and a half
inches in circumference.
Rarely has the press been called upon
to record a more cowardly and brutal
act than the murder of tlie actor. 14. C.
Porter, by James Currie. and the shoot
ing of Ids companion. Mr. Barrymore. at
Marshall, Texas. While these gentle
men were in the restaurant adjoining the
waiting-room of the railroad station,
with Miss Josephine Baker, an actr<ws,
and all waiting tor the train, this ruffian
t*urric used improper language to them,
and when told hv the party that lie must
not* insult a laify and that they did not
want to have any trouble with him. he
drew his revolver and shot them. It
appears the fidlnw had two revolvers
was. in fact, a sort of walking arsenal, as
if murder was his profession. He was a
railroad detective, too. A nretly sort of
fellow this, to lie employed ny a railroad
company. When a drunken ruffian car
ries a loaded revolver, there is no telling
when he may use it. or make the occa
sion himself for using it; hut when Its
goes doubly armed, as this man Currie
was. he is as dangerous as a train of
nitro-glycerine.