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 <ion't object to the umbrella?"
he said, raising it, and adjusting It to its
socket in the back of the buggy.
" I hate umbrellas!" Nellie returned.
"Do put that down—there is hardly
any rain."
•' Nevertheless. I am responsible for
your safety and good condition, so will
keep it up till we get to the woods."
"A little rain never hurts me."
" But it may hurt your hat. Are you
a woman, and never gave a thought to
that important question? Why, there
was not a young lady on the ground to
day who did not make that the tirst con
sideration."
" Well," said Nellie, laughing. " per
haps I am not much like other young
women."
•' Perhaps so. In fact, that idea pre
sented itself to me on my first meeting
with you."
She colored and bit her lip hut made
no answer.
" Nellie," lie said, bending forward a
little, and looking in her face, " doesn't
this remind you of—that evening?"
" I thought," she answered, sharply,
" tliat you were never again to allude to
that subject."
" I can't help it; it is too often in my
thoughts. In fact, I like to think of
it."
Her heart heat a little at his tone, but
she looked straight before her, without
reply.
" Nellio, do you remember the request
I made of you that evening?"
"That request was not for me."
" It is now."
Their eyes met for an instant.
"Arc you sure," said Nellie, half
archly, but with a strange tremor in
her voice—"are you surp you arc not
still taking me for some one sine?"
"Quite sure, despite your golden
hair, and your voice, and your similar
ity of name. If is NellieCnldwcll that
I now ask to—to say those words!"he
whispered, as he cfasocd one of her
hands in his.
" How long," said Nellie, half mis
chievously, half seriously—"how long
since you said this to Nellie Archer"
" I never said it to Nellie Archer.
When I left you and went to seethe
original Nellie," smiling, " I found her
to ne quite a different character from
the Ideal which my fancy had pictured,
during a whole year's absence. Enough;
you know what I mean. I never spoke
to her of love, and to-dsy we came to a
pleasant understanding, when she in
formed me that she had engaged her
self to Captain Lloyd. I lovelier well
enough as a cousin, but not as I must
love a woman whom I would make ID v
wife." 3
They were bowling along the wood
land track, where the trees made a ver
dant arch Overheard, through which
the re.in-drops slowly dripped, like a
shower ol diamonds. Nellie had never
before felt how beautiful the world was.
They arrived at home in a driasly
shower, through which, in the misty
east, a glorious rainbow slums.
At the door he detained her lor an
instant under the umbrella, as three
months before he had done at the gate
" Nellie, darling, you have not said
those words— " I love you, Charlie."
"No," said Nellie, blushing. "No,
I won't say them now; hut," and she
glanced up, roguishly, " I do love that
dear umbrella!"
And Hhe rushed upstairs as her
mother came into the hall, inquiring if
they had gotten wet.
Marriage in Kgypt.
When an Egyptian wants a wile lie is
not allowed to visit the harems of
friends to select one, for Mohammed
forbade men to see the face of any woman
they could marry—that is to say, any
besides their mothers and sisters. A
inan is. therefore, obliged to employ a
"khatbeh," o£ matchmaker, to find one
for him, for which service, of course,
she expects " backsheesh " —that is, pay
ment. The khatbeh, having found a
girl, recommends her to the man as ex
ceedingly beautiful and eminently s it
able to him. The father is then wa ed
upon to ascertain the dowry he requires,
for all wives are purchased as they were
in patriarchal days. When Jacob had
no money to pay for Rachel, he served
her father for seven years as an equiv
alent; and when duped was obliged to
serve a second time to secure his prize.
(Gen. xxix.) Fathers still refuse to
give a younger daughter in marriage
before an elder shall have been married.
The peonle of Armenta. in Asiatic Tur
key, forbid a younger son to marry be
fore an elder, and this is likewise the
law of the Hindoos.
The price of a wile varies from five
shillings to $1,500. The girl may not
be more than live or six years old, hut
whatever her age two-thirds of the
dowry is at once paid to her father i*
the presence of witnesses. The fathet
then, or his representative, says: "1
betroth thee, my daughter," and the
young man responds: " I accept of such
betrothal." Unless among the lower
glasses, the father expends the dower in
the purchase of dress, ornaments or
furniture for the bride, which never
iiccomc the property of her husband.
Kvcn when betrothed the intercourse of
the parties is very restricted. The
Arabs will not allow them to see each
other, but the Jews arc not quite so
stringent. The betrothals often con
tinue for years before the man demands
his wife. Thus, "Samson went down
and talked to the woman," or espoused
her, and "after a time he returned to
take her." Girls are demanded at the
age of ten and between that and sixteen
years, but nfler sixteen few men will
seek them, and the dowry expected is
then proportionally low.
Girls in Egypt are often mothers at
hirtcrn and grandmothers at twenty
jix. and in l'ersia they are said to be
mothers at eleven, grandmothers at
twenty-four, and past child-bearing at
thirty. When a man demands his be
trothed a day is fixed for the nuptials,
and for seven nights before he is ex
pected to give a feast, which, however,
is furnished by the guests themselves.
Thus one sends coffee, another rice,
another sugar, etc. The principal time
of this continued feast is the night be
fore the consummation. The conduct
is entrusted to the " friend of the bride
groom."(John iii, 29.) About the mid
dle of the day the bride arrives at the
harem, where site sits with her mother,
sisters and female friends. A t the third
or fourtli watch of the night—throe or
four hours after sunset— the bridegroom,
wh lias not yet seen his fair one, goes
to the mosque to pray, accompanied by
" meshalls," or torches and lanterns,
with music. Upon his return lie is in
troduced to his bride, with whom, have
ing given her attendant a present to re
tire, he is left alone. He then throws
off her vail and for the first time sees
her face. If satisfied, lie informs the
women outside, who immediately ex
press their joy by screaming "zug
ftareet," which i echoed by the women
in the house, and then by those in the
neighborhood.
Cure lor Colds.
We published some time aeo In this
magazine a paragraph upon bronchitis,
the result of some experiments made by
a gentleman upon himself, and widen
his medical attendant said, jocuinrly.
constituted a fraud upon llic profession.
This gentleman, who was subject to
attacks of acute bronchitis, succeeded in
warding them off by observing the ordi
nary precautions against catching cold,
but especially by chewing a small piece
of ginger whenever he was obliged to go
out of doors on a cold day. Since he
had adopted the plan of keeping a piece
of ginger in his mouth while out of
doors, he had never had an attack of
hroncliitis either winter or summer..
A very similar result has been ob
tained in coryza by an Italian gentle
man, K. Rudolf, which makes ns believe
more in the above mentioned ginger
than we felt at first inclined to do. The
case is related in a recent number of
the Omztfta Mctlica lUtiionn, and the
substance used was not ginger, hut
eucalyptus. Doctor Rudolf being seized
with a severe attack of coryza, or in
other terms a very bad cold in the head,
happened to chew one or two twiga of
the eucalyptus, at the same time swal
lowing the saliva secreted, which had a
hitter aromatic flavor. To ids surprise
he found that, in the course of half an
hour, the nasal catarrh lied disappeared.
Some days later the same person was
seized with another attack, when the
same treatment was followed by an
equally fortunate result.
The author th*n prescribed this sim
ple remedy to several of Ids patients, all
of whom were benefited in the same
way. He adds that, in his opinion,
this treatment is only suitable to acute
cases; that appears p>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.