Friends of Long Ago. When I sit in the twilight gloaming, And the busy streets grow still, I dream of the wido, green moadows, And the old honse on the hill. I can see the roses blooming Abont the doorway low, Again my hoart gives greeting To the friends of long ago— Dear long ago I 1 can see my mother sitting, With life's snow flakes in her hair, And she smiles abovo her knitting, And her lace is saintly fair. And I see my father reading From the Bible on his knee, And again I bear him praying As he used to pray for me— So long ago! I see all the dear old laces Of the boys and girls at home, As I saw them in the dear old days Belore wo learnod to roam. And I sing the old songs over With the friends I used to know And my heart lorgets its sorrows In its dream of long ago! Dear long ago! How widely our feet have wandored From our old home's tender ties, Some are beyond the ocean, And some aro beyond the skies. My heart grows sad with thinking. Of the friends I used to know; Perhaps I shall meet in heaven All the loved ones of long ago, Dear ldfcg ago! UNDER AN UMBRELLA. It was about sunset of a changeful, April day, when a young girl, lightly descending the steps of a handsome residence, walked briskly down the street, which presently merged into a shaded avenue, sprinkled with modest Villas and neat cottages. She was en veloped in a waterproof cleak, which revealed only the graceful contour of her shoulders, over which fell a cluster of golden-brown ringlets. Her little feet tripped daintily along the rough road, until suddenly pausing she lifted a fresh, sweet face, with laughing brown eyes and a dimpled mouth. "Raining again!" she said, aloud; and stepping under the shelter of a lin den, she pulled the hood of her cloak forward over her little hat. And then, as the light April rain was driving directly in her face, she tied over it a thick, brown double veil. " Sunshine and shower all day," she murmured. "'The uncertain glory of an April day.' Very provoking weather, when one is compelled to go out; but then every thing looks so fresh and beautiful that it would be really a sin to complain.' The sound ola quick step approach ing from behind caused her to glance back. It was already growing dusk, rendered deeper by the lowering clouds, yet she could discern a very nice-look ing young gentleman approaching, sheltered beneath a huge umbrella. The girl walked on; but in a moment the step was by her side, the shadow of the umbrella extended over her, and a gloved hand was eagerly held forth. " Cousin Nellie, is it really you?" The girl started, and peered curiously theougn her thick veil. "I am Nellie," she said, with some embarrassment; "but I—l don't re cognize you." "Not recognize me? and after only one year's absence! Why, Nellie, am I so much changed And besides, did you not receive my letter, saying that you might expect me this week ?" " I don't think I did," replied Nell.e, demurely; and at the same instant she thought to herself: " 1 wonder who it is that he takes me for?" " It is strange that you should have missed the letter. But I hope I am not the less welcome for coming unexpect edly." "Well, it is unexpected, I confess." He was silent for a moment; then said, in a changed tone: "You don't seem a bit glad to see me, Nellie. And yet. if you knew how I have looked forward to this meeting!" "That was very kind of you. and I am sure I ought to feel myself very % much flattered." Another ominous silence. " I don't care who he is, or for whom he takes me," thought the fun-loving girl, as she walked demurely along be neath the umbrella held over her. ft What right had he to address me and call mc his cousin, before making sure who I was? Perhaps a little lesson will do him no harm." " Nellie," said her companion, slowly, "do you remember tfie last night that we were together—alone ij the library?" " I can't say I do, exactly." "Impossible! You cannot havc for gotten it, and what you said to mc in adieu. You promised that you would welcome me back with those words." "What words?" " You said: ' Dear Charlie, Ido love you!' Nellie, dear, won't you say them now, as you promised P" The young girl started. He spoke so earnestly that she was fairly frightened, and felt herself blushing as though the words were addressed to herself, Nel lie Caldwell. Whft the other Nellie was—the Nellie beloved by this hand some young man- she had'no idea. At any rate, though, she begnn to think it was time to put an end to this adven ture. What right had she to suffer him thus to betray his secrets to her? So she said, gravely, yet still with a spice of mischief: " I think you are mistaken. lam quite sure I never said those words to •nv man." He bent a little forward and looked earnestly under the hood and at the brown veil. "Nellie, will you take off that veil? I want to see your face, and to under stand whit you mean by talking in this strange way?" "Oh, you will understand it presently, when we come to that green gate yon der; then I will remove my veil. But how came you to recognize meP" she asked curiously. "How could I have failed to recog- UW you, rather. You have grown slightly taller, perhaps, but I knew your step and your beautiful hair, more beautiful then ever, Nellie I was on my way to your house, when at a distance I saw you comedown the steps, and I could not resist trying to overtake you. for just one word and look." "Oh!" said Nellie, as a light dawned upon her; and then to put a check upon ber companion's sentimentality, she added: " How it rains!" andquiokened her pace. "Let it rain!" he answered, impa tiently—"cannon-balls, if it will. I want to talk to you, Nellie." "Cannon-balls may suit your taste, perhaps, but would scarcely be agreea ble to me; and as to ta:kij)g out here in the rain and darkness f am not ro mantic enough for that- He was forced to keep by hor side as she walked briskly on. "Where are you going?" lie inquired, uresently. " Home." 'HomeP Why you are taking a con trary direction from b>rae." " I think not; I believe I know where I live." " I did not know vou had removed." "Did you not? Ah, here we afe, at the gate. Please open it, If you can, on the inside." He reluctantly obeyed, but raised the latch so slowly as to detain her while he whispered: "Nellie, you have not given me the welcome you promised. You have not said those words." " I don't bolieve you really want me to say them," she answered, very much inclined to laugh, yet almost frightened at her own audacity. " Not want it? When you know how I love you!" "1 don't believe it is nzc that you love," she returned, pushing open the gate. " Good heavens, Nellie,how strangely foutalk! Who, then, do you imagine love?" " I am sure I don't know," said Nel lie, slowly raising her veil and pushing back the hood. " I don't know, but I am certain it can't be me!" And she looked up in his face with a demure, pursed-up little mouth, and brown eyes shining witli suppressed mirth through their long, black lasiies. Ho stood gazing upon her as if petri fied with astonishment. Then a deep flush crimsoned his handsome face and his eyes flashed with an indignant light. "I beg your pardon!" lie said, with ceremonious politeness. "Of couise it is a mistake on my part." " I suppose it was," said Nellie, de murely. " I—l mistook you for another," he said, both embarrassed and angry. " Was that my fault P" she returned. " but you—you certainly allowed me to rest under the delusion." "That was lor fun." " Fun?" " Perhaps I was wrong. Indeed I now rather think that I was," said Nel lie, coloring beneath his gaze. " but, as neither of us shall ever mention this adventure, I suppose no harm is done." she added, coollv. He regarded her an instant with a strange, undecided expression. "I beg your pardon! I am keeping you in the rain," he said. " Good even ing!" And, lifting his hat with icy polite ness, he walked away. Nellie, as she entered the house, was mot by her elder sisters with a shower of questions as to who was that elegant looking man, how she had met him, what he had said. Unlike herself in general, she returned brief replies; md escaping to her own room, threw aside her waterproof, changed her dress, nnd. seating herself before the fire, gazed absently into the glowing embers. Presently she laughed, then bit her Hp with a vexed expres sion. and finally began to cry. " I wonder what makes me do such silly, unlady-like things?" she thought. " I am always getting into some ridicu lous scrape or other. What an opinion he must have of me? I shall be really ashamed to meet him again, as I sup pose I must, if he is Mr. Gray." Then her mood changed. ' I don't care. He mav be as dignified as he pleases, but he shall never see that I trouble myself even to remember this ridiculous walk, and the horrid um brella!" Presently another change came over her "Poor fellow! I can't help pitying him. for I fear this has been merely a rehearsal of the real act. Why. Nellie Archer was in the parlor with Captain Lloyd nearly two hours this afternoon, when she must have known, from that letter, of Charlie's coming. I wonder if she ever said tothecaptain—or to young Doctor Bliss—what she said to her cousin? Poor fellow! And Nellie has been showing his letters to all the girls! She could not have done so baa she loved him." Nellie Caldwell was correct in her anticipation of again meeting with Mr. Charles Gray. The society of the little town was very gay; and what with church fairs ana parties, and other social amusements, it was impossible that these two Bhould not be thrown to gether. Nellie blushed, despite her utmost en deavors to look unconscious, when Mr. Gray was first presented to her; but the gentleman was so cool and coinposid that she actually doubted whether he had recognized her. He conversed with her a little, dnnced with her once, nnd, as sbo observed, was chiefly interested in watching Nellie Archer and Captain Lloyd. And Miss Archer, proud to show off her handsome cousin, and her own influence over him, treated him very sweetly in the intervals of her flirting with other ad mirers. Some weeks glided by, in which the acquaintance between Miss Nellie Cnld well nnd Mr. Gray imperceptibly as sumed a more agreeable character. His cold politeness, nnd her equally cool indifference gradually thawed, and each vaguely felt that, despite their mu tual efforts to keep apart, there wns something which mysteriously drew them together. Nellie attributed this to her sympathy with his disappointment in regard to his cousin, and often expressed the wish that the latter would love him. as she was sure he deserved, and make him happy by marrying him. It was inex plicable to herttiat any girl could prefer Captain Lloyd to Mr. Charlie Gray. Neither had ever but once alluded to their first meeting Coming out of church one evening Miss ArcJier said: " Nellie, what have you been doing with yourself this last terribly rainy week? Isn't such weather enough to give one the blues?" "Oh, no," she answered, cheerfully. " I like rainy days at home, and can always find something to amuse roe?" "Kven in the rain itself," said Mr. Gray, on her other side. "What an enviahiedisposition is yours. Miss Cald well, to he able to find ' fun' in such a situation!" Nellie looked up quickly, and met the half-laughing glance bent upon her. Instead of answ< ring gayly back, as was her wont,*he colored, and her eyes filled witli tears. " Mr. Grny," Bhe said, as Miss Archer fellhehind with Captain Lloyd, " I want you to promise to forgot that hateful walk in the rain, and never again allude to it." " I am not sure that I could keep such a promise—at least the first part." "That means that you haven't for given me." "I really do not feel as though I had anything to forgive, or you to ask pardon for," lie said, pleasantly. " 1 was very silly and wrong, but you Bee I have grown older and wiser since," said Nellie, demurely. "If the increase of wisdom is in pro- Eortlon to that of age—" he commenced, ut was interrupted by Miss Archer. " Nellie, are you and Charlie flirting? or what is that mysterious whispering about?" "We are not flirting," returned Mr. Gray, coolly. " Miss Caldwell does not flirt, I have observed; and for myself, you know I detest it." " I know you have some old-fashioned and absurd notions," retorted his cousin, laughing. "One must be very prudish and old-maidish to meet your ideal of perfect womanhood, Charlie." And again Nellie Caldwell felt con science-stricken, remembering that un fortunate walk, and the impression which her conduct must have pro duced on this very particular young gentleman. Some time after this, there was a pic nic at a picturesque old mill a few miles from town. Nellie Caldwell spent rather a tiresome day, wondering whv it was that she could not enjoy herself as usual, and envying Nellie Archer her high spirits. To-day, at least, she ob served, she and Mr. Gray seemed to be getting along unusually well together, she appearing nulinnt, tnd lie serenely happy. "I wonder if they arc engaged?" she thougiit, and did not feci nearly so elated as she ought to have done at the prob ability of such a consummation. He sought her out occasionally, hut had little to say, seeming to prefer re clining at her feet on the turf beneath the; willows, looking dreamily on the water, or up into her face, as she talked. Several young 1 allies observed that they both looked very stupid and unin terested at each other. As the evening waxed late, there was a sudden stir among the company. It was certainly going to rain, some weath er-wise prophet had declared, nnd the elder portion of the company, at least, were anxious to get safely under shelter before the shower came. Mrs. Caldwell collected her dessert spoons anrt her daughters, who had come with her in the family carriage. " Why, Nellie,' said one of her young companions, "you are surely not going so soon. It wouid spoil the party; ana, besides, you will miss the plantation songs, and your favorite Virginia reel." Mr. Gray stepped forward. Would Miss Nellie accept a seat in his buggy? and would Mrs. Caldwell intru-t her daughter in his charge? If so, Miss Nellie conld remain to en joy the reel and yet arrive at home al most as soon as the carriage with the fat and lazy horses. So Nellie stayed, and her spirits rose unaccountably. The final favorite reel was scarcely commenced, when a few scattered drops of rain startlcd'tlic guy throng. An im mediate rush was made to the con vey anoes. •' Don't ho alarmed." Mr. Gray said, as lie assisted Nellie into his buggy. " It will he but a passing shower, probably, and we will take the road through the woods, which will afford some shelter in addition to that of my umbrella." A few other vehicles were going the same way. Mr. Gray's was the last in the procession. " You obahle enough, but il such simple aromatic substances as ginger and eucalyptus wilt cut short or prevent an attack of bronchitis or coryza, we consider that very useful discovery lias been made, and that it cannot lie too widely known.— Monthly Magazine, __________ Words of Wisdom. Charms strike the sight, hot merit wins the soul. No man over looked on the dark side of life without finding it. One should seek foi others the happi ness one desires for one's sell. Truth Is the foundation of ail knowl edge, and the cement of all societies. Tliev that langh at everything, and they that fret at everything, are alike fools. No manner of speaking is so offensive aa giving praise and oloaing it with an exception. As the firefly only shines when on the wing, so it Is with the human mind— when at rest it darkens. How msnv are there tike Atalanta in the fable, who lost the taoe by stopping to pick op the golden apple. A Prodigy nnd Monster. Nature often gives such curious twists to Iter productions wiiich afford hope of being rare and valuable pieces of hu man clay, that she only provokes bv tantilizing us with her hints of what, if the had idiosen, she might have done. She turns out a child, who, if she will finish as carefully as she begins him, promises to he a Shakespeare, a Macau lay, or a Webster; but suddenly, as if impatient of workmanship, or as if gov erned by a mere caprice, she warps and perverts him, and throws him away battered and useless. Thirteen years ago a boy was born'„i Paterson, New Jersey, whose head on the day of his birth attracted attention, and which, when he had reached the age of four, had grown so large as to make other people shake theirs and pre dict a fatal and speedy ending of his life. Hut he lived on until lie wore a hat of seven and a half size, while his body ceased to grow after the age of five. His intelligence was marvelous. -He could learn anything by heart; had wonder fully. quick preemption, great logical faculties, mathematical talents, and a love of music and poetry. He eould re cite Milton and Shakespeare and render some of the passages after the manner of the best actors he had seen. lie be came the wonder ot the city, and even attracted scientific and other prominent men to read this enigma of juvenile genius. With all the amusement and pleasure he found in life he had moments of pro found sadness, in Which he would speak of his early death in terms and tones that touched his friends and hearers to tears. His father died before the boy had attained celebrity, and his mother earned a living by working in the mills, leaving him during the day to the care of his chance friends and acquaintances. His gifts proved his ruin. He fell in with those who began to pervert bis wonderful mind. They taught him slang phases, profanity and obscenity. A mere midget, he became as famous in vicious ranks for his vilencss and pre cocious vulgarity of speech as he had been previously for his cultured and re lined intellect. lie became self-willed and incorrigible. The doors of respec table people were closed against him. He learned to smoke, chew, curse nnd swear, and spent his time in dancing jig* and singing ribald songs. Before he was eight years of age he was in the habit of coining home at night intoxi cated. or not coming homo at all. He was shunned by those who once courtc-d and flattered him. D-idics who had pet ted him passed by him in fear of an in sult His temper became ungovernable, his insolence intolerable. He would stop strangers in the street, demanding a chow of tobacco, and would return either an acquiescence or a denial with blood curdling profanity. It was not that he was so vile and loathsome, for boys of that age and character are not uncommon, hut the sight of the crea ture, with his big head and baby frame, conducting himself like a candidate for State prison, made him a monstrous and repulsive curiosity. His mother tried in vain to reform him, but her daily oocu pat ion prevented her from watching over him or exercis ing much influence of any sort. She finally a*ked that he he sent to the re torm school, and thither lie has b.en faken. i'crhaps he may he saved for something cn at and useful yet, but, after a career of dissipation at his age, the probabilities arc against his surviving long, or, if lie does, of undergoing a thorough rcfor m.—DeiroU Frtc Pro*. Mrs. Partington at the Sociable. Tin-re was no mistaking the costume, and the fact that the venerable danm led a small boy by the hand confirmed the impression that Mrs. I'artington was in the assemblage. There was a momentary lull in the buzz of conver sation. and the party gathered around the new-comer, eager *o shake her by the hand. " IV.ess me!" said she. with a beaming smile, which played over her face like sunshine over a lake; "Bless me! now saiuiary you ail are! —just as you ought to I* "at a time like this, when nothing harmonious should !>c allowed to disturb your hostilities. You are very kind. I'm shore, and I am glad to see you trying to enjoy your selves. We had no church sociables in my young dais, but we had husk in' bees, and quiltin' bee*, and appie bees, and" —" Bumblebees," said ike, break ing in like a boy on thin iee—"and though we hail good times, and sociable enough, goodness knows, when the red ears were found, they were nothing to the superfluity of this." There was a slight disturbance in the circle, as Ike in Tlis restlessness placed his heel on a circumjacent toe. hut it was stilled as the master of ceremonies came up to in troduce the minister. " Glad to sec you, madam," said the minister, "I hope you may find the hour spent with us a nappy one." " I know 1 shall, sir." replied she.' "for happiness depends very much on how we enjoy ourselves, and cnougn of anything always satisfies me. How could I help enjoying my scli in a scene of such life and ani mosity as this?" "Very true, madam " " And then the lights, blazing like a consternation, and the music and flown s make it sicm like Pharaoh land." The minister was called away, nnd the master of ceremonies ake.": Mrs. l\ ifshe would like "an ice." which she faintly heard. "A nice. .. p'slie replied, looking at him and hanging on to the long—as if It were the top bar of a gate. "Oh, very." A rush by the contestants in a game here broke in oet ween them, the band gave a crash, which seemed to start the roof, the mass of people waved to and fro, Ike Started off with a new crony in quest of some suggested peanuts, and Mrs. Part ington backed into a scat. She looked pleasantly upon the moving spectacle through her own parabolas, her fingers beat time to the music, and her "oil factories" inhaled the breath of flowers and the smell of coffee from an adia centroom, tillshewas becoming "lost," when she realized that a figure was standing before her. and a cold spoon was being thrust into her right hand. It was the attentive manager again with an ice-cream which be invited her to take. "You are very surprising, sir," said she, smiling; " I was unconsciona ble at the moment. Thank you; I will. lam very partially fond of ice cream, and this is in anil a, too, which is my favorite." She ate with a sense of enjoyment caught from the scene and went away soon after, when Ike had joined her, with plethoric pockets, bid ding the manager convey a good-night from her to the party, saying she had enjoyed a real sociable time.— B. P. Phillaber, in the Avenue. A Defiance (Ohio) farmer's mare gave birth to a wit with Ave horns. The Eyesight in Adults. In adult aj?e the eyesight may and often in, injured by causes which can be avoided by the exercise of l moderate amount of thought and c ;ir ,.'_ Common anion? these causes are detec tive or excessive illumination, exeeg. Hive application, unclea i or impure air exposure to eold. and want of misuse of spectacles. Of course, tin- best light is the natural or white light, which comes from the sun, and which is as , congenial and necessary to tic eye as food to the digestive organs. Hut by thoughtlessness and carelessness the light of day may become the means of destroying or seriously impairing the eyesight. Thus, the power of vision u, often enfeebled and sometimes ruined by sudden exposure of the eyes to j. much stronger light titan that to whi they have been accustomed. A p may suffer irreparable injury, even to blindness, by going abruptly from dark ness to light, by looking at the sun or other dazzling light, by reflection of the solar rays into the eye from a mirror oj other polished or white surface, liana may come from opening the eyes in a bright sunlight on awakening in the morning, and hence, as Dr. Carter, an English physician who has made the eyes a study, points out, it is notw.ito sieep in a bed Owing the morning sun, when the windows of the room an im sufficiently covered by curtiins, or when the strong light is suddenly ad mitted by a servant in the in'.rr.lr,/ The habit of sleeping with a night light burning in the room is objection able, since darkness is conducive u> sound and refreshing sleep. Hut it per sons will do it, the light should he so screened as to prevent the rays from falling direc ly on the eyes. Indw... I ings, as in schoolrooms, architecture and furniture; have an important in- I fluencc on the proper use- and preserva j tion of the eyesight. Not only the I amount of light in the room, but the di ; rection from which it is admitted, are j matters of importance. The eye-s ar<- naturally much protected against light e-oming from above, but they arc com paratively defenseless against that which comes from below. "<)n this account," says Dr. Carter. "very low windows are rather to be avoided, or. if 1 use d, they should be fitted with blinds | made to draw up rather than down: j and the flexors should not be covered ' with very bright-colored materials, or ; with any which posse ss reflec'inp sur ! faces. The blinds, too. by which tli<- admitted light is tempe red, should be of a suitable- ceiior, neither white nor white striped with red, but of a blue or gray tint, and of sufficient thie knes; to be really effectual for the purpose f,, r which they arc de-signed." I'rajer* In Congress. A letter from Washington to the Cleveland TJcraid says: The ning of a Congn-ssional session is a.ways or der' d at noon precisely. When tin clock hnnrt touches twelve the ff.M,r has been cleared of all visitors, and perhaps five or six Se-nators are- in their seats, and twenty-five e>r thirty Congo -men in the ir hall. The Bp* ikei nesotl exactly e>n the minute, steps up to his dais, strikes a smart rap upon th< sound ing board, nnd the roini-W r who fo w him walks up to the preaidin i officer's chair and prays, usually short, but oc casionally grows somewhat long. The same ceremony at lice same- moment transpires in the Senate. Both the Speaker anel Vice-President stand bciow their desks with bowe d heads while- tie cliapiains officiate. The prayer-, over, the business of the day at einev begins by the mechanical resdingof tic- ieeurnal. which usually occupies from fifteen to twenty blbsM. the- members mean while steadily filing in from the com mittee rooms and elsewhere, so that a bare quorum is gene rally on hand when I the motion is made by the- pn-ieiing j officer that the record be appro\ d. In - the Senate those men who figure so i prominently before the country—th -f men are conspi-uous during lc mo j me-nts of srayif by their absen e.The r aura or business in their bu*V 8 : I torial lives seems to he so gre.it that the | ten or fifteen minutes which be long to the opening moments of the dai.y ses I sion cannot he spared for their pr< -e-nc. the-ic. Those Senators who or- distin guished by their promptness and pres ence during the opening praye rof the day might be mentioned here-, because it lias not ns yet hexn done. On the Democratic side McCrcery. of Kentucky, used to he the standby. He was always there. No one ever was as regu ar. or is to day. The present pillars aret'oke, of Texas, and Slater, of Oregon. The former is a man of an immense frame, with a good head. Slater is a very quiet man, and listens to everything that transpires in the Senate; the roost attentive Senator, perhaps, in the whoie body. On the Republican side we have three or four Senators who are uni formly regular in attendance at prayers —Blair, ot New Hampshire • Saunders, of Nebraska; Cameron, of Wisconsin; McMillan, ol Minnesota, and Kirk wood, of lowa. Dawes, of Massachusetts, is Srctty regular. Those seven or eight enators are the gentlemen who open the daily sessions; were it not for tlieni there would be sad confusion in the regular order. An Old Ontch Funeral. Until within a few weeks past, one man. John Van Vechten. of Catsklih was living,who rememl4|£d thc-funTa. of Domine Scbuncman. The ceremony was in accordance with the customs which the Dutch, a hundred nnd sev enty years before, bad brought with them from the mother country. A man. especially deputed for the purpose, met each tuale-comrr at the door, and offered him a glass of rum from a flask. A woman waited in a like manner upon eaeh female-comer. The relatives ol the dead sat together around the corpse; the friends and acquaintances took their scats in another part of the room, or in an adjoining chamber. When the services were over—these were in Dutch—they whochoae went up to the coffin to take their last look at the de ceased. The coffin was then closed, put upon a bier, and taken from the house to tbo grave, the relatives following, and after them all oomers. When the coffin had been laid in the ground, the procession returned to the house, but in inverse order—the relatives and the empty bier and its bearers coming last. One room in the house was assigned to the bearers, another to the assembled people. In each room a table bad been set with botthsof rum, ajar of tobacco, and long clay pipes. AH the men drank and smoked, talking in the meanwhile of the character and virtues of their dead pastor, of their hovers, of the spring planting, and of the weather. One or two of the lower sort got tipsy, and amused themselves by singing m* neral ditties out-ofdoois.— Harper* Macamnt.