My Little Woman. A homely cottage, quaint and old, lt t) H li ptttu thick with green and gold And wind-sown grasses; Unchanged it stands in sun and rain, And seldom .through the quiet lane A footstep passes. Yet here nay little woman dwelt, And saw the throud of winter melt From meads and fallows; And heaid the yellow-hammer sing A tiny welcome to the spring From budding sadows. She saw the early morning sky Blnsh with a tender wild-rose dye Above the larches; And watched the enmeon sunset burn Behind the summer plumes of fern in woodland arches. My lillic woman gone away To Uuil btr land which knows, they say, No more sun-setting! 1 wonder ii her gentle soul, bevutriy resting at the goal, Has learnt forgetting' tiy heart wakes up and cries in vain, She gave mo love, I gave her pain • While she was living; I know not when her spirit fled, But those who stood beside bor sail* She died forgiving. My dove has found a better rest, And yet I love the empty nest She left neglected; I tread the very path ahe trod, And ask—in her new home with God, Am I expected? II it were but the Father's will, To let me know she loves me still, Tins aching sorrow Would turn to hops, and I oould say, Perchance she whispers, day by day, " He comes to-morrow." 1 linger in the silent lane, And high above the clover plain The clouds arc riven; Across the fields she used to know The light breaks, and the wind sighs low, " Loved, and lorgiven." IMP, OR ANGEL? My aunt Urania is a woman of great energy and penetratiop. If she sets her self to discover a secret, she never rests until she has enlightened herself down to its inmost recesses. When my pretty friend Elizabeth Terry was holding us all in suspense AS to her intentions with regard to the interesting widower who now speaks of her so affectionately AS " my present wife" (significant not only ot a certain past, but of a possible future). Aunt Urania invited the wary Elizabeth to take a long country drive. " And, my dear, I'll have it out of her, ii we don t get back till midnight." she said. They were gone only two hours, and my aunt entered with a triumphant face, tne grays all in a lather froui the victorious haste of her return, while in strong contrast was Elisabeth's serene unconsciousness. " How did you do it?" I inquired, at the first possible moment. "Did she confess it allP" "Confess! my dear, not a word. Bhe hasn't an idea that she has betrayed herself. I only asked her, quite casu ally, how many children Mr. Willi is has, and she answered "Three," with such a look, such a sigb 1" The event proved my nunt's acute ness, and made her more than ever to us all an object of admiration and terror. It was rather unfortunate for me that Aunt Urania put off her projected jour ney to Europe for six months—the six months which decided my fate in life. I should have enjoyed them much more, and managed my affairs much more smoothly, uninspected by her keen eyes, unadvised by her keener tongue. I shall always believe it showed a very persistent state of feeling both in Harry and me not to retire discomfited from so watchful a sentinel. "Yes, of course, your attachment to the child is very natural, my dear," she would say, "as I said to Mrs. Dubois only yesterday. ' Nothing,'l said, 'can be more natural. Susan Bard more, Henry Bent's first wife, was like a sister to my niece; no friends could be more intimate; and of course she feels very much for the little boy."' " I wish you wouldn't talk so, aunty!" 1 exclaimed. "Henry Bent's first wife! I never heard that be had more than one!" "Oh. no, not as yet, my dear, but it is only a question of time; and pretty general y a very abrupt question, and short space allowed for an answer. Of course he must have somebody to look after that child; I never saw in all my lile a child that needed it more The luoit saucy, spoiled little wretch—a per fect little imp!" 'Aunty! He is a perfect little angel," snio I. "A* ftr can , Coralie keeps him ir beautiful order, and he is entirely 1 • otthy and happy here in the country. / n . it is all very well tosay, * Of course he must have somebody to take care ot tie child, of course he must marry,' when you know that if he had no child you would sav, 'Of course be must mil try. poor fellow! he is all alone; if he hud evt n a child to care for, It would be oiflbrint." For my part," I added, " I Dale second marriages." "Oh, you do." said Aunt Urania; and then ensued a pause. brokrn by e 'bumping at my door with little closed fists. " J/et me in, let me in, Nora," said the dear little voice, in just his mother's old, sweet, imperative way. And the dancing eyes that laugh up at me out of that fair little face are Husie's very eyes. •I want you, my own Nora," said the darling. " There Is a little calf In the barn, and papa says I can go to see it, and you must take me." " Hoity-toity 1" said Aunt Urania. " That is n pretty way to talk to a lady. Must take von, indeed." " I'apa didn't say just that, did be Bardie?" 1 asked, annoyed to leel my self coloring under aunty's keen eye. "He said I mustn't go unless I had the best of care; and I know he meant you, because Coralie is very careless; be said she was yesterday, when I got my boots wot. And the old cow butts at me if 1 go near her. So you must como, Nora darling; Bardie wnnts you so bad!" Who could resist those eyes?— that coaxing voice? I had followed just such eyes and voice all my life, and I followed them now. So did Aunt Urania, with her most investigating spectacles perched on her nose. " Well, Bardie," she remarked, cheer fully, "if you say wo must, and papa says we must, why, we must." Bardie stood stock-still, with an evil look on his face. " I didn't mean you," he said. " Oh, my dear little boy. that wasn't polite," I whispered ; but he only gave me a hug, ana turned to aunt with a seraphic Bmlle. " You'd better not go. The cow is quite a dangerous one," he said, in a very civil tone. " And she doesn't like red things; they make her furious. She just runs right at them and tosses them." " What is the cbi d taiking alx>ut, oss what? I'm not a red thing, I hope." " About your legs," said Bardie," yery distinctly. " You hold your dress up so high that the cow will get mad. I shouldn't wonder if she killed you " Aunty vouchsafed no reply, hut strode majes ically on, scorning to veil by one half incu the somewha unnecessary conspicuousness of her long scarlet stockings. Bardie looked at her very hard. " A very cross dog lives in the bam, he remarked. "He bites people. Not young ladies, Nora darling, nor children —he i s real good to little bays, but other people he bites." I could not speak, and I did not dare to laugh. Auntie's face was awful. " I am going to the bam," she said, briefly. We made our way through the ducks and hens, skii ting perilously a yard full of pigs, and tremblingly passing a small window in a shed, where protruded a great head, wb h short horns and soft beautiful eves, but a low rumbling note proclaimed that it was the bull, the ter ror of our field walks and grove picnics. Not that we had really encountered him in the body, but iu the spirit he always seemed to haunt the next field or be screened by the shadiest tree. " Oli, Bardie. I don't like the looks of him," I whispered. " i ake hold of my hand; I'll take care of you." said the little knight; and wc passed the monster that looked yearn ingly at us in our freedom, and gave a resounding bellow that shuddered through and through me. Bardie laughed at my fears. " What arc you 'fmid of, Nora swcetP He has got a his; ring in his nose, and can't do anything. Anybody can lead hitii about. Papa said once that if you could only put a rinj? on a person, you could lead him by his nose.'' "What's that?" said Aunt Urania, from behind We entered the bam, lul 1 to overflow ing with sweet new hay, and fragrant with its pcrlumc, and witli the breath of the patient cow that lay contentedly in her comer, with her head raised in watchful care of her little weak-legged scrawny offspring. I had never seen a very young calf before, and was disap pointed. "Veal!" pronounced Aunt Urania. " And not particularly good at that, I should say." Bardie did not understand the prophecy. " Isn't it lovely P" he cried. " I wish papa would buv it for me, the dearest little thing! What makes it look so funny and wet?" " It's mother has been giving it some thing which is good for all little chil dren, Bardie," Baid my aunt. "Par ticularly !or little boys. A good lick ing!" Bardie understood this time, and looked vengt fully at her. Then snap ping the fingers of his minute band to the old dog, that lay near Happing a heavy good-natured tail agniust the hard boards, he uttered a low but per fectly distinct " St. boy'" Up jumped the obedient Bruce with a clumsy leap, and ran, barking loudly, to the door, where he supposed the un seen enemy to he lurking. Aunt Urania fidgeted. "Did you do that, you little rascal P" she asked, not quite sure, however, for she had been watching my successful effort to Ciimb to tiie top of a great mountain of hay, where I nowsatamid the fragrance of dried clover leaves, and felt in paradise. It was an admirable point of view, but not a convenient place to render as sistance in an emergency. And thus it happened that I could see the cow, growing uneasy at the hubbub, rising to her feet, and finally, with a threaten ing look, advanced a step or two with lowered horns. 1 could see it nil, but was powerless to help, and could only scream: "Aunty! Bardie! the cow! the cow!" Quick as a wink B&roie slipped past the angry animal, and, as be expressed it, "shinned up" the haymow, where he perched himself triumphantly beside me. Dignity and age alike forbade tlie exercise of shinning to aunty, notwith standing Bardie's opinion of her length of limb. She wavered, tried for one brief moment to " look the animal in the eye," but a forward movement on the oow's part put that idea to flight, and she turned and fled, pursued only a few steps by the disturbed mother, who "saw her to the door," with a loud moo of dismissal, echoed in distant thunder from the small window wherein gleamed the ball's excited eye; pursued also, I am ashamed to say, by a derisive laugh from Bardie, who stood on one leg, ba'ancing himself with a pitchfork, and shrieked out: " I tola you she hated red things. Isn't it fun!" We snuggled down In the hay and let the cow quiet herself by a vigorous return to her nuisery duties, anathen I whispered a little admonition to Bardie on the subject of his behavior to aunty. It wss by no means tbe first Urns 1 bad rebuked my small charge, and he took it very penitently; though when I found myself saying, "It lent like mamma's little boy to act so," I came to a Bill atop, with a sudden remem brance of Susie's inveterate naughti ness when Aunt Urania was in the question. He liked to hear about mamma, the sweet bright, unknown image, whom nobody but I had ever brought to his mind, and he lay with his bead in my lap. listening to my stories of our child ish play and adventures, until the pleased smile grew vaguer and softer, and the long lushes drooped lower, and he slept, looking more than ever like a wandering cherub of heavenly reur -I'hen, as I sat, doubly prisoned by the foe beneath and the friend above, I | heard a quick, unexpected footstep, and Henry Bent entered the barn with an amused and perturbed face. The cow had settled to a comfortable nap, the flies droned in the sunshine, ana in the quiet noon iiusii he would have turned away witiiout discovering us, but that a low girlish giggle, of which I instantly felt ashamed, revealed our retreat. Ho looked up, laughing. "Oh, there you are, safe enough; but where is my small boy?" " Here, too, I said, in a very low tone, and he vaulted upon the hay, and saw the pretty sleeping boy: and his face softened into the mingled sadness and brightness which I often noticed upon it as he looked at her child. " I met Miss Scudamore just now with a horrible tale of danger and mis behavior. It is all right, I sec. But what does possess the child to behave so badly to her? He is a perfect lamb with you." " He has it by inheritance." I said, with a smile that ended in a sigh. "He never looks so like his mother as when the irresistible naughtiness comes over him. which Aunt Urania has the unfor tunate talent for evoking." The same smile was reflected in his face, the same sigh in his voice. "True," lie said, "you see, as Ido, the wonderful likeness in everything." " IVhy do you never talk to him of Susie?" I said, with a desperate plunge into the difficult subject, for I liatl never before mentioned her name to him since the baby wus left motherless. "It is not right, Harry, to let him <row up in ignorance of that sweetest of creatures, lie is, as you say, her living image; lie ought to know and love her, yet he hardly knew what the word mother rnennt until he came here to mo." " I could not, I could not," he an- BWcred, much moved. "I am glad you do. I knew you would do him good this summer. I cannot tell you the comfort it is to me to have him in the country, and witli you. I knew you must love the little fellow, for you loved his mother well." " l/oved her, yen." I said, my team suddenly hurstina; forth. " I can't get used to doing without her, Harry; I can't get oyer it." "I fcee," he said. "We are fellow mourners. Nora." The little head stirred; one or two of my tears had iallcn on the sweet baby face and wakened him He sat up and rubbed his eyes, amazed. " What a lunny place!|wliat longjoob webs!" he said. "Oh, 1 remember now, the cow. Is she all right again? Why,papa, where did you come from?" " I came from the city, Hardie. When I reached there this morning I found the man 1 wanted to s°e was ill, and wouldn't come to town for three days, and so I posted back to you." "That was right," said Bardie. "To me and Nora." "Yes. to you and Nora," said Harry, with a kind Bmile at me. " But, Bardie, the first person I met was Miss Bcuda more, who told me a very sad tale. I am alraid my little boy was very saucy and disrespectful." " Oh, papa, it wns too funny to see her run with her red stockings. I told her not to come. J told her the cow might kill hpr. But Miss Scudamore, why, she scudded more than ever," and he went into a fit of mirth at his first attempt at a pun. I responded to the sa'ly with a weak minded laugh, hut bis lather looked awful. " No more of this, sir," he said, !n a voice of strong displeasure. "If you can not behave properly to the ladies in this house, I will send you away with your nurse, and not let you come here again. I will not expose them to the pertness of a naughty little boy." Bardie cowered under the severe glance, and clung to me. I looked piteous " I>o not encourage him. Eilinor," said Harry, in a softer tone. "It is a great misfortune to a motherless child to grow up among strangers and ser vants, who spoil hiTm, and then dislike him because be is spoiled." But be stroked tlie little penitent head, and then suggested that a hav-rick was not the coolest place on a summer noon, and that dinner must be nearly ready. "Yes, papa; but first I want to ask you something. Will you take us, me and Nora, to drive thisafiernoon? The horses aren't haying to-day. and we want to go so much. Please do." Harry laughed, and stole a glance at my face which I dare say revealed an noyance as well as amusement. "Not to-day, Bardie. lam going to take you over to the hotel to piay cro quet with the little Temples." " Will you come, too, Nora?" asked Bardic. " No, dear; I called there last night," I said, and 1 drew a long breath at the idea of a quiet afternoon. Bardic safe and Hurry away—away for the long evening, my heart whispered. Sophy Temple and tea at the hotel, and a long evening walk, and who ca i tell what else? And with a jealous pang for Susie, I thought, " If only 1 might have Bardie, I wouldn't care.' So, after Aunt Urania had settled her self for her afternoon nap, I changed my dress and rested awhile, watching from my window until I saw Harry and Bar die walking across the fields; Coraiie followed, and I said to myself: " I thought so: he will be untrammelcdl" and I carried my water-color box and sketchin r stool cut to a beautiful spot at the end of a rambling old garden, where a low stone wall divided the straggling flower borders from the pas ture beyond. There were shady trees and soft overgrown clumps of bushes and undergrowth, so that the retreat, though not very far from the house, was entirely secluded, and it commanded a lovely little glimpse of wood and river, with soft blue hills beyond, and in the foreground the white spire of the vil lage church shooting up through the greenery. Buch a auiet afternoon to sketoh and paint I No little tormenting fingers to meddle and "joggle," no perpetual little tongue to ask unceasing ques tions; only the siienoe, and the sum mer music sweeter than silence; the soft whispers in the trees, the droning bees, the chirp of a bird; even the spring of the grasshopper in the grass at my feet was distinct in the golden bosh. Yes, that hazy light was beautifel. the opportunity perfect. Why oould I not maks nse of it? Why could I not paint instead of sinking back, after a few list leas efforts, with a heavy heart and clasped bands, and let the foil weight of my lonely life fall on my spirit? My father, always away, glad to be free from any oharge ol me; Aunt Urania well she meant kindly, and was good to me, hut what a bore! Susie, my chosen friend, my heart's sister, who gad led and loved me from childhood, tone into lhe land of shadows, and none po take her ace in my ills forever. Even her sweet little boy would be taken from mo no doubt before long, and given to somn other woman—some Sophy Temple! And Harry— But just at that stage of my reverie, when I felt the choking in my throat, and the hot. tears in my eyes, I heard the same well-known step close beside me. and Harry Bent, flushed and breathless, threw himself on the ground at my feet. "I thought I should And you in this lovely spot. May I not come too?" he entreated. " I thought you had gone with Bardie." "Yet, I left him there playing with the little Temples. I made a brief call on the ladies, and then gave Bardie the slip. I wanted to get back, and only hope he will not discover my retreat. Everybody is lazy to-day except you, Nora. You have your work laid out in a very notable way, though ufter all I do not sec that you have done much." "Some days are unlucky," I an swered. I did not feel in the mood. But I will sketch now," and I becan to work in earnest, partly to get 'of the searching eyes which seemed read my troubled thoughts. " Rest instead, Ellinor, and let us talk awhile. "Yes, talk; but I can work too. I want to make this picture; the view is so lovely, it haunts me." "Ah! said Harry, "there is a picture which haunts mc— a picture; 1 lately saw, and I can think of nothing else; a woman, young, fair, and with the sweetest mother face; and a little child." " X. Madonna?" "Perhaps so. The child was asleep. Such repose, such confidence in his whole attitude and expression! Evi dently the one right spot on earth to him was his place in her arms. And she looked like a brooding dove. Nora, I can never tell you what I felt when I came upon you so suddenly to-day with .my little sleeping boy, nor what a revelation from heaven came to my heart that thuß it might be—must he. I said we were fellow-mourntrs; can we pot be fellow-comforters?" I could not speak; the sobs I had suppressed, the trouble I had been fight ing, had their own way now. lie looked at me in doubt and distress. "What is it, dear Ellinor? Do I hurt you? do I shock you? Have you no heart to giye me? No, I will not ask anything now. Calm yourself, sweet child; rely upon me. 1 will not say another word, if it distresses you like this." " I must speak," I cried, with a des perate; effort. " Harry, Harry, how can you ask such things of me. when you know that you can never care for any body again as you did for Susie?" " I know," he answered. " When you know that I ant no more to be compared to her than this little common flower at my feet is to be com pared to an exquisite half-blown rose, petal after petal laden with sweetness, down to its secret golden heart?'' "Yes," he answered, picking the lit tle common flower and holding it to his lips. "It is not the rose. But it is heart's-ease. It has its own mission, its own perfume." "And do not speak of Bardie," I cried, more passionately than ever. " I>o not tempt me with him. I wisii he and I could go away together to some secret place, and I could have him always." "Dear, you may have him always. No other woman ever shall." A long pause ensued. I determined to grow calmer before speaking again. It was so hushed that we could near the stirring of some little rabbits in the bnabw N hind. He looked at me cn trentinglv. 1 shook my head. "No, no, Harry; do nor ask me, do not tempt me. lam not much of a girl, 1 know, out I am worth more than that. I ought to be first in the man's heart who marries me. No, do not speak. You know I cannot be first with you, and so I cannct marry you. Ob, dear! 1 sighed, " there is nobody on earth with whom I am first* nobody who loves me best of all." The stirring of the rabbit beeame violently excited, and with a great crushing of leavca and parting of branches, and rending of little blouse. Bardie tore himself trom his lair, and flung himself upon me. "Yes. yee, my darling Nora," he cried, with tears, kissing my head and fare and hands, " I love you the best of all, my own Nora— I want you. Go away, papa. Marry me—marry Bardie, Nora, dear!" and he threw his arms around me and buried his head in my neck. "Yes, Nora," cried Harry, clasping his armsround us both, " marry Bardia; marry us both. We do want you; we can't possibly live without you. There is nobody on earth, there never will be, wiiom we love half so well. Sweet Nora, say yes, and make Bardic and me perfectly happy." They had conquered. M* heart yielded to both father and child, and I made a full surrender, with my head on Harry's shoulder, and my arms around bis child, and mv tears all kissed away; and a wonderful sense of heme and l>e longings, nnd fullness and con tent. flowed through and through me, and felt ns if Suasie's smile came down in the sunbeaui, irradiating the whole scene, and blessing the new part I was to take in the lives which her death bad left wrecked and stranded. Aunt Urania came to meet us as we returned to the farmhouse, putting oa her spectacles of Cisco very as she came. But ft needed no glasses to see what had happened. Dewy eyes, disheveled tresses, happy, agitated faces, told the whole story, even without the help of the ecstatic child in a woftiliy torn blouse crowing over his victory, and hardly waiting to get with'n earshot before proclaiming the secret In his clear high voice: " She's going to marry me. Miss Scud dymorc; she promised she would!" And then, as an afterthought, he added: " Oh, and papa, too." g -—-w-newfHwee The Philosophical society, of Glasgow io to hold an exhibition of gas apparatus sna large scale next autumn, and it is intended also to make a display at th same time of the apparatus which will illustrate the progress made in electric lighting, in telephonic communication, in the manufacture of mineral oils, in water measurement and regulation, in hydraulic engines, in beating and venti lation, etc. There can be no doubt that this exhibition, taking up, as it means to do some of the stoat important prob lems to whloh man's attention is given at present, wih prove of great service to those who have to deal practically with sanitary appliances. A rat poison is advertised that will make rats go away to a neighbor's house and die. it Alls a want long felt. RELIGIOUS HEWB AND lIOTEK. The first Evangelical cliurch in Japan I* to he erected from funds sent by Christian converts of the Sandwich Islands. The 16,(XX) churches of the Method Ist I Episcopal church owe in the aggregate •7,000,000, an average of $4,000 to each [ church. ■ In the Methodist Episcopal church in this country there are forty-two Swed ish pastors, 4, £>00 communicants, and fifty-three churches. I>a*t year 3,900 new members were, added to the Baptist churches In Sweden. Not yet are Baptist preachers in Sweden allowed by law to solemnize the rites of matrimony. The American Baptist missionary union will begin mission work in Li beria this yciir, with the object of establishing ultimately amission in the interior. The Baptists of Virginia boast of five men who -have held pastorates for up ward of twenty-five years. Two have held pastorates over forty years, one over thirty-seven, one thirty-three and one thirty-one. The American Baptist rnissionrry union have, during the past year, added twenty-two to their missionary force, and twenty per cent, to their revenue, raising in all $314,860.88. Of this the women's missionary societies gave $09,170.81. Some of the Russian papers have lately published statistics respecting the C.itholicchurch in Russia, not in cluding Poland. In Russia proper there are one archbishop, four bishops. 1,804 priests and a population of 3,397,778 souls distributed through 1,044 par ishes. The last religious census in France shows that there arc 35,387,703 Roman Catholics, 467,531 Calvinists, 80,117 Lutherans, and 33,116 of other Protes tant denominations. T4i e. Jt ws number about 50,000, and 90,000 are attached to no church. The English Congregational aid so ciety aided last year some 514 dtWObes and 981 mission stations, with $"8,940 to the churches and $35,000 to the mis sion stations. The income of the society I was $169,450. Some assistance was also given in raising ministerial stipends. T;ie Presbyterians are rejoicing over the success of the new plan of providing for the expenses of their general assem bly. The assembly paid its way easily this year, and had a balance in the treasury. The receipts were $3,000 in excess of those of last year. The num ber of commissioners present was 538, of whom 256 were elders. A Volrsno in a riorida Swiuap. A recent issue of the Tallahassee (Fla.) Palrxot says: On Bunday night, a few weeks ago, a large bright light j was seen in a southeasterly direction I from this city, which attracted the at tention of many of our citizens at first, but concluding that it was a house on fire, they thought hut little more of the matter until the light reappeared sev eral succeeding niglrs in the same plaee. and put them to thinking again. It is much brighter some nighui than others j —sometimes having the appearance of j the moon rising, bat generally much '' brighter, and looking more like a large fire shooting its flaming tongue high up into the upper realms, frequently re- i fleeted back by passing clouds. During j the past week we have conversed with several parties living in that direction, j all of whom had noticed the light, and \ located it in the great swamp southeast of here, on the Gulf coast, and about the i' same spot from whence the much ! taikrd-of column of black smoke has been seen to issue for years, supposed | to be a volcano, which no living man has ever been ab'e to reach, from the fact of its being surrounded by an im penetrable swamp. Wc were told last I Tuesday by a gentleman living in 1 Wakula county, near tbis noted swamp, < that the light had created much excite ment in his neighborhood, as a loud, I rumbling noise was frequently heard In j the direction of it during the week. The noise was said to be ao loud Thurs day, about midnight, as to arouse the sleeping family of Mr Frank Duggle, and cause them to get up and run out doors, thinking another earthquake was on hand. For the Unmarried Men. There can't he too much guardit' against the wiles of the flirt; she's a naughty-culturiat. Tbe way for a desolate old bachelor j to secure better quarters is to take a *' better half." When a young man begins to be called a blade, there is always more or Jess steal about him. Life is but a span; marriage is a double team; youth wedded to old are is a tandem; nti old bachelor is a sulky. In some respects the gentler sex far surpass us. No man. for instance, can deliver a lecture with a doeon ping in hismoatli. Clean your last year's straw bat with ' a lemon, ami you may squeeze ttirougti the summer with It. Take this hint 1 and let lemon-aid you. A young New Yorker hosobtalned twenty-seven different card photo- 1 graphs of "future wives" who are in •tore fur him, obtained from as many different sorceresses. A Western paper watts to know 1 " where the next world's fair will be ' heldF" I don't profess to know maeli j 1 about tbe next worid, but in these dig- 1 sins Sunday nigbt is the favorite tlmi ' for holding this world's fair.—Hkake. A poqt says t " lAve holds me so! 1 ] wou.d that I could got I flatlet up end down, and too and frol In vain love holds me so!" Eat a raw onion lust before you go to sue hep, and she i will loosen her grasp and throw up* window. av U IRVAMODS OLD BACH SLOB. When Kve brtmaiu woe to all mankind, Old Adam called l>r merman; And wh*i\she woo'd with lave *o kind. 1 H then pranounoed it woemsn. But now wftk lolly and with pride Their huahaada pocket* trimtnin. The ladiea are to tail ot whima Thai people cell them whimiuen. Out day recently nearly 4,000 mil- ! grantaoatne into New York. That tame i day 1.000 left New York for KuropS! 1 who went away wore, a*mimic. J riS| ilioae Who ohms were poor. Be- H fare many years have passed a numb w i who cams hat* poor that day I will be atobng the rieh throng going back to visit their old homes. Going t East, as a general thing, ts pleasure; fi oomtng West is business. The 1,006 are i to stay * the 4 000 *** cow,l, tf Give Then Now. If yon bare gcntlo words and look*, rr , T irisuds, To spare lor ins—U you have tears to a b*| Thai I hiwe Buffered—keep them not, | {jrty Until I hear not, see not, being dead. llyou have flow'™ to gi-e fair lily bods, White rosea, daiae* (meadow-atari that Mine own -tear nuuiceak*-e)—let thein einila and >oaks The air, While yet I breathe it, sweet lor ine. loving looks, thOUfCH fraught With tender nees, And kindly tears, though may (all thick sad fast, The word* ol praise, alua' can nnu-ht avad To lift the shadows Irutn s life that'* And rarest blossoms, what can they tnfflce Offered to one who can no longer gnw Upon their beauty ? Folw'rw in coftlna laij Impart no sweetness Lo departed 'lay*. —llarptr, Weekly. ITEMS OF INTEREST. I'atience is tbe art of hoping. Tea culture in Florida is receiving at ention. It is now safe to treat girls with coot nc-ss— flavored with vanilla. Samuel Johnson defined nonsense to be "bolting a door with a boiled e&r rot." Tlie Territory of Montana has already produced upward /if $147,000,000 in gold, and $6,000,000 in silver. An English firm sold 8,000 fireproof safes in Turkey before it was ascertained that the tilling was only sawdust. A leading hotel in Dundee, Scotland, is furnished throughout with furmu: made in Grand liapids, Mich. Talk of feme and r<>tnnoe—hL the glorv and adventure is the word are not worth one hour of domestic bliss. The law should be to the sword what the handle is to the hatchet; it should direct the stroke and temper th* force. In Paris the fashionable shade is "sul phur." There is one other place where, also, it is fashionable.—New York Her ,iUl. The deficit In the po-tofHoe depart ment for the fic&i year ol 1879 w:i* $3,407,916, which 's less than any year since 1866. An oatmcai factory in Dubuque, la., is shipping over 45 (00 j-ounds of men. per week to Scotland at a cost of si venty-five cents a hundred. It is wonderful how silent a man eat be when he knows his cause is just, and Im>w boisterous he becomes when he knows he is in the wrong. | Two hundred and seventy-two train* | arrive at and depart from Chicago every twenty-four hours. Forty-four rai.roadi have offices in that city. Grace "1 am going U> see Clara to day. Have you any message?" Char lotte—" I wonder how you can visit that dreadful girl? Give her my love.' Missionaries report that a town near Pekin, China, seems about to come lover en masse to Chr.stianity. They have been rending Ctiristiun books.and many families Cave destroyed their family gods. Bisset, the animal trainer of Perth, tAUght an ourang to wait on Ithe tabie and peform other household duties tie longing to servants. A chimpanzee has been trained to fa d and attend a baker's oven tire on board ship. Philadelphia has 478 r>ubiic scnoos. instructing 103,567 pupils by means of I 9,070 teachers, only seventy seven of whom are men. The value ot the sehoo. property owned and in use by the city is nearly $6,000,000. " Goods at half price,"' said the sign " How much is that teapot P" asked the old lady who had been attracted by tb announcement, "Fifty cents, mum.'' "I guess I'll take it then," she said, throwing down a quarter. The dealer let her have the teapot, but took in hi sign before another customer oould come in.—Boston TVoaseript. An exchange says that the king *f Siani is coming to tnis country. and will bring hissnit with him. Well he'd bet* I ter. unless he has afrhnd here who will | lend him one. The weather is entirely too changeable for a man to come so tar I away from home without his suit. and. ; I resides, people might make nmrks j about him Muldltiovi , 7VnnsenW. Did you ever notice the little rtg muflin in the str-et with a supreme.* dirty face ? Taffy, bread and fatter and molasses form the groundwork for the accumulation of dust and grime, and his cheeks look like twia maps ot the oceanic archipelago; his bands and wrista look like animated tree roots, they are so dirty, and his feet and ankles partake of the mud they contact with. Of course you've noticed him. And he isihe lightest-hearted bunch of human kstan you ever saw. Dirt doesn't rtrike any deeper than beauty, and within his heart is as ciean litt.es soul, and a great deal Ircer one, as ever grew inside the neatest and slickest young devotee of soap and vra'er that ever lived, waelmd and suffered.— Sev Haven Hcguter. li• B •Ml ■taaffcrlrtT' A man may cat and drink hearii .v su day, says an unknown writer, and sit and lounge about dofng nothing, in one •ns* of the word; but bis body must keep hard at work, or it will die. Sup ;<nc t I>4 stoma* Jl refused to work wit tun ICQ minutes after * heart* dinner, tb< man would die In convulsions In s few hour*; or cholera or cramp eelie would 2 ; would invade the small of the backhand the head would anUa to bursting Sup pose the kidneys shut up shop, and dan ger moat Imminent, suffering* unbear able, and dtaUfc mora certain. wo* id of the speedy and unenviable result. If W' Itttle workshops of the eye shoald eh**- iin a* hour he outfit not shut nor op n SSSiBm ttkfa Plifre tongue shoukl tlrtfr tl fSTdOrtiiQklry as a ooMand stffi * time is a nxirawle of wisdom, but to *oflt them by the plenAAee of ettn< and drinking Is a miracle of beneflcenje-
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers