A Day of Sunshine.
Oh, Rift of God ! Oh, perfect day;
Wheroou ahull uo man work, hut play;
Whereon it is enough for m,
Not to bo doing, but to bo I
Through orcry fiber of my brain.
Through ov cry uerre, through oftiiy vols,
I fool the cleolrio thrill, the touch
Of lifo, that aocms almost too much.
I hear tho wind among the trees
Playing celestial symphonies;
I seo the branches downward bent,
Like keys of somo great instrument.
And oror me unrolls on high
Tho sploudid scenery of tho sky,
Whore through a sapphire sea tho sun
Kails like a golden galloon.
Toward yonder clnudland in tho Wont,
Toward yonder Islands of tho Moot,
Whoso stoop sierra far uplifts
Ita craggy summit white with drift*.
Blow, winds ! and waft through all the rooms
Thesnowllskes of the cherry blooms I
ltlow, winds ! ami bend within my reach
Tho ftery blorsoms of the peach !
Oh, Life and Love ! Oh, happy throng
Of thoughts, whoee only |>oooh is sung !
Oh, heart of man ! canst thou not tw
Blithe as tho air is, and as free?
lxjnijfrUotr.
A Story of Dijon Roses.
" Dijon roses ! Oh, how lovely, yon
dear, good Pierro 1"
This was the exclamation of a girl
about nineteen, arrayed in a ball
dress of white, as she took a bonqnet
of these gorgeons, fragrant flowers
from the hands of the old gardener,
who had gathered thorn for hia favorite,
the only daughter of his master.
"Yes, mis.°, from your own bush, all
of them," said the old man; "and I
guess no one at the gTand ball will have
fluor flowers. I would not give any
one else even one, Miss Amy."
The girl bent lovingly over the fra
grant blossoms, and a thoughtful look
passed over her speaking face.
" I fancy oftentimes theso roses aro
my flowers—my gnardian angels. The
German fable is so pretty—that flower
angels keep us from all harm and
wrong. You shall be my guardians,
***7**7," she playfully added, as she
put them for a moment to her lips.
It was this sunny-haired girl's first
ball, and as she stood in the light of the
chandelier her faco showed all the lovo
of enjoyment so natural to youth,
though it was not so easy to divine the
inteutness of purpose and noble long
ings after good in her still untried soul.
The future lay yet bofore her—a bright,
unwritten peg®; yet she had tasted
enough of sorrow in the early loss of a
mother to know that life has troubles as
well as joy a
The first ball, however, soon drives
other thoughts away, and Amy, placing
some of the roses in her hair and in
her bosom, and wrapping her cloak care
fully round her, went forth with her
father to the anticipated pleasure.
Rooms fragrant with exotics and filled
with a countless variety of forms and
faces, and delicious musio swelling in
the perfumed air.
The white-robed, graceful form of
Amy, as leaning on her father's arm she
walked slowly through the throng,
elicited many a remark and passing
glance of admiration.
One gontleman standing in a retired
oorner looked enrionsly after her and
started forward, bnt fell heck into a
careless posture, and watched Amy in
tently.
Ho was not apparently an habitue of
the ballroom, but the " guinea stamp"
was there "for a* that," as the Scotch
poet observes.
After a time the hostess came up to
him and said " Do, Doctor Roslin,
let mo give yotr an introduction to my
dear little friend, Amy Dormer," and
the smiling lady, attired in brocaded
satin, with lace and jewels, presented
the grave-looking man to Amy, who
soon fonnd herself talking to him quite
at her ease, and very mnoh enjoying
bis quiet originality as compared to the
uaual rapid ballroom conversation.
"Look," sho said, after a pause, "at
my roses. They aro my guardian angels
Dijon roses, yon know; when we hsve
a flower gnardian he keeps ns from
harm—ia it not a pretty thought 7"
"So theae are Dijon roses ? I thought
I knew them," he answered. " I have
a little story connected with them,
which I will tell yon some time, if yon
would like to hear it, though it is bnt
an unfinished one." Then bending
down and speaking low as Amy's father
came to take her away, be said, " Thank
yon, Miss Dormer, for a pleasant even
ing. After all, a ball ia not half so bad
aa I expected."
" I think they are delightful. Here
are one of my roses for yon," said Amy;
and so they parted.
A ward in a hospital, with its rows of
■mall white beds, and the silent figures
of the sinters going to and fro on their
missions of mercy.
•• No. 24 is dying," was whispered by
one of the nnrses, and two of them
oamo to the bedside.
No. 24 was young, scarcely past her
girlhood; her brown hair fell in heavy
braids on the pillow, bnt tiro weariness
of life and tho tttamp of early care ami
privations had marked her face, lovely
as it still was. Sho was murmuring of
other lands in a strange langnage.
Jnst then a visitor entorod-a girl
about tho ago of the one who lay dying;
bnt, oh, how different—the earnest
face, so fall of lifo and happiness, even
thongh sad with sympathy for suffer
ing, as the low comer bent over tho
worn invalid who just then opened her
eyes, and gazed almost fearfully into
her face.
Suddenly tho dying girl hold ont her
hands, and said, bosoochingly:
"Give them to mo—oh, please let
mo have them!" as sho pointed to a
olnstcr of roses in tho visitor's hand.
"Dijon roses I" sho murmured; "they
came from my homo —did yon gather
them from tho garden ? Does Francois
still water them for mo ? Oh, let mo
have them—do I"
Amy, for it was she, pnt the dowers
into the sufferer's hand; tremblingly
sho carried them to her lips. " Did
Francois send them to mo—to Iteine ?"
she said; "and do the little mother and
Nanon still wuit for me?" Thon, as a
change passed over her face, und Amy
bent over her, sho said, feebly: " Lady,
will you tell them Heine is dying, bnt
sho is sorry, and has tried to remember
all tho good abbe tanght ? Bury these
flowers with me; they ere from tho dear
home."
She lifted her face with a smile, and
all was over, and tho ineffablo peace
that death brings to tho weary passed
into the dead girl's face. Amy felt sure
tho flower-angel had brought a message
from homo to the sinner.
One of tho sisters drew a sheet over tho
face, and as Amy turned to leave, with
tearfnl eyes sho saw her friend of the
ballroom, Doctor lloslin, who had Ikm?u
an uninspected witness of tho scene.
" I am glad to see yon hero," he said.
"I am glad your flowers brought a
message from home to tho fpoor child.
I feared she would suffer more beforo
the last, and am thankful came
so peacefully."
A protty room, with a bright wood,
flro burning in a grate, and a girl's
' figure leaning on tho mantel, with one
foot on tho low brass fender, standing
J gazing musingly at tho bnrning logs.
I Suddenly tho door opened, and Amy
turned with a blush and a smile to
. welcome her friend, Dr. Roslin.
"I am so glad to see you," sho
I said, "for I want to hear what you
I know about that poor girl who died in
tho hospital last week. I have had a
bush of Dijon roses planted on her
grave."
Hitting together by tho fire the
doctor told Amy a simple story of lfl*
, travels abroad, to which he little
thought at tho timo ho should ever see
I any denouement, ho said :
j "Taking a walk one snmmer evening
: in tho ontskirts of a small town in tho
south of France, where I was spending
a week's relaxation from hard work, I
came to a small cottago, snrronnded by
! a garden filled with the most beautiful
flowers.
" While I lingered, looking over tho
| slight fence, a yonng man in a blouse
| slowly entered the gato and began to
j work among the flowers, and watered
them from a little spring at the back of
tho honse. Presently a dark-eyed
child came down the path and stood
beside the yonth.
"' Francois,' sho said, • I mnst go to
the market to-morrow and carry some
of the roses; tho little mother needs
money for the rent.'
" A shade passed over the man's face
as he answered;
"•Well, little one, do .as yon will;
jnst as well as to let them droop and
wither, I suppose.'
"A careworn-looking woman soon
joined the two, and I strolled on; bnt
coming back, and still seeing the child,
I asked her for a rose and a drink of
water from tho spring. When she
brought them I told her to bring me a
bouquet to the market tho nest day,
which she promised to do, saying;
" * They aro Heine's roses. She has
gone away, and little mother and Fran
cois won't lot me talk of Heine. She is
my sister, and I wish she would come
back, it is so dull without her.'
" Next morning I failed not to seek
the little flower-merchant, and found
her sitting quietly among a crowd of
noisy venders. As soon as she saw me,
she exclaimed:
" 'Here, monsieur 1 here are your
roses I Some gentlemen wanted them,
but I kept them for you. I have sold
many bonqneta I'
" 1 paid tbe little one so liberally
that she bent and kissed my hand, say
ing :
" 'lt is too much, monsieur. I will
give you flowers every day. This will
be enough to pay cress Monsieur
Jacques, and the little mother will be
" Here la tbe end of my romance.
Miss Amy, for I was called away next
day bye telegram, and I cannot help
thinking the girl who died is the lost
Heine."
" What strange things ere happening
every day I" said Amy. "How lives
meet and tonoh, and we seldom know
for what reason till years have flown.
Her eyes were full of tears as she
looked up in her friend's fare.
" I have set ono of tho sisters to find
out some of poor lteino's history, and
her name if possible; then I will writ©
to tho Mario and send now* to licr
mother if wo can prove tho relation
ship."
lie pausod a moment, thou wont on
raoro quickly.
•' I have to go abroad myself in a few
months to sottlo some business and soo
to pomo scientific lectures in Paris, and
can, perhaps, visit tlio little town,
Amy"—as she bent her hoad down
" will you go with mo, dear?"
Once more tho Dijon roses bloom in
tho littlo garden of tho cottage. The
sun is sinking behind tho hills, and
Nauon is busy with tho flowers, while
her mother sits knitting on tho door
step.
A lady and gentleman Htop at tho
gate, and the child recognizes in tho
lattor her friend who paid her so liber
ally for Koine's rosos. Bho ran toward
him joyfully.
" I kept a bouquet till it was almost
withered for you every day for a long
time, hut you nover camo."
It was tho doctor and hi* wife, Amy,
who had come on purpose to briug to
the mother news of her lost child.
The woman came forward and invited
them in, arul, with kindly welcome,
brought sweet milk, brown bread and
grapes for her visitors.
It was difficult to find an opining for
the sad story, so Amy whispered to her
husband, and promised to come the
next day to seo sotno laeo tho women
mado, aud they loft tho story uutold
till then.
Then, tenderly and gently, Amy told
tho poor woman of the girl in tho hos
pital and tho roses, and showed her a
little silver cross which tho sister had
taken from poor Heine's neck—tho
only trace of her identity, for her name
was not known.
The mother fell on her knees in an
agony of grief as she recognized this,
her child's silver cross. Hat she soon
became moro complied by Amy's gentle
words and sympathy.
"Heine was a strange girl," she said.
"She always said her roses were her
friends, and it is through them I have
news of my lost child. It will go hard
with poor Francois. He always thought
she would come back ; but it is better
to know she has gone than to bo living
a* she might, for Heine was always a
good child. OnJ rest her sonl 1"
Amy remained with the poor woman
till Nanon returned, and her husband
came to walk back with her to the
town.
They were to leave tho next day ;
but Amy left a small sum of money wiih
the good abbe of the neighlioring
church for Heine's mother and little
sister, and promised to take care of her
grave, and send Nanon a rose from the
bnsh planted there as soon as they were
in bloom.
Thoughtfully in the dying twilight
Doctor Koalin and his young wife
walked back to the town.
Hodden)/ Amy looked up into his face
and raid :
"Do yon not beliovo in flower angela
now, dear ?'
Bending down and kissing her sweet
lips, he said :
" Yes, and in my own guardian
genius, toe, which is vouraelf, sweet
wife."
< titling Out.
The most desperate, yot generally
anocoaaful ami popular achievements
have been those known as "cutting
out"—that is, attacks by open boat*
upon an enemy's abipt in su enemy's
harbor, and 1 may cite one as among
the most brilliant and picturesque of
those exploits. Tue British frigate Sea
horse was blockading another frigate of
about equal size in the harbor of Porto
Caballo, on the Spanish main. The
idea of "cutting ont" the frigate from
nnder the Spanish batteries by means
of his small open boaU, manned with
only 100 men. inspired Captain Ham
ilton, and, when communicated to his
crew, was reonlved with three hearty
cheers. The boats, commanded by the
ciptain himself, left the frigate at
night and made for the harbor, not on
observed, however, by a Spanish lannch
"rowing guard" at the entrance. This
did not deter the gallant assailants.
Two boats proceeded to ont the cables,
the others attempted to board at differ
ent points, two only ont of the six suc
ceeding at first. The Spanish crew,
nnmbcring 3CS, retired before the head
long attack of probably not eighty as
sailants, and two boats' orews remained
to tow the enemy ont if osptnred. For
some minutes the iaesue was doubtful
bat while the deadly struggle proceeded
below our lithesome sailors sprang aloft
like a flight of nightbirds; the gaskets
were cat, the sails dropped onriain-like
from the yards, the ship gained life,
and floated ont like a summer olond or
a vision amid the roar of guns from the
battery, the .continued fire of mnakets,
the load ourses of the Spaniards, and
the measured splash of the oara. When
the struggle ended outeide the harbor
110 of the enemy lay stiff and stark,
ninety seven were wounded, while the
loss of the victors was trifling!—7A
| Sintfuntk Century.
t'LiI'I'INUM FOB THE CdltlOlH.
tbo been are voting honey re.
mains longer white, and is known aa
virgin honey.
Tho loss of n hand wan ono of the
penal mntilationa enacted by William
the Conqueror.
Hangings for rooms, calle d arras, were
first made in Arras, France, in tho four
teenth century.
Tho yearly consumption of quinine
in tho United Htates is computed at
HOO CHM) ounces.
The dahlia is a native of Mexico, and
was brought to England by Dahl, a
Bwedo, in 1804.
Tho discovery of the luminosity of
plants has Wen attributed to the daugh
ter of Li una us.
Under tho microscope tho brilliant
feathers of a humming-bird's breast
show only dark brown.
During tho reign of Trojan 5,000
poor children were supported hy tho
government in Home alono.
The medicinal leech is found only in
Central Europe, Asia Minor and jart
of tho northern coast of Africa.
It is within tho last two centuries
that tho first attempt was made in
Europe to establish quarantines.
Among tho Tahitians and New
Zealanders tho women wear their hair
short and the men wear theirs long.
Tho ancient custom of sending a
present of fine cloth to certain high
officers of state and gentlemen of
yueen Victoria's household has lately
been observed by a committee of the
court of aldermen of London. Tho
custom seems to have originated in a
desire to encourago competition in the
manufacture of fine goods.
The ancient Huns seem to have been
tho ugliest of all tho ugliest races of
Central Asia, and the homeliest individ
ual was probably the " veiled prophet of
Bokhara," tho repnlsivenoes of whose
features was so overpowering Ihst ho
did not venture to appear without a
mask, for which he afterward substi
tuted a golden veil, and was conse
quently known as "tho veiled one."
Hiicides are increasing at an alarm
ing rate in tho German army, and it i*
suggested that tho authorities might
consult tho order book of the first Na
poleon for a remedy. While first
consul ho promulgated tho following
order to the forces under his com
moand : " The grenadier Gar Jan has
killed himself on acceuut of a love
affair. In other respects be was a
good soldier. This is tho second oc
currence of this sort that has taken
place in the army corps within the
last month. The flrat consnl desires
to notify the guard in the order ol
the day—first, that a soldier must
learn to subjugate tho passions of
gri< f and melancholy ; socond'iy, that
just as much courago is required to
endure soul with fortitude
as to stand unmoved in the ranks un
der tho fire of a battery. To give
way unresistingly to sorrow, to diwtroy
one's self in order to escape distress
of mind, is equivalent to tunning away
from tho battlefield before ono has
been beaten."
The Police of (ittitrmili,
Joseph 11. Pratt, drill sergeant of the
New York city police, who went to
I Guatemala, Central America, in Angnat
| last to organize a police force, has ro
, turned. lie ha* tne opinion of retorn
i ing and taking c >m*nand of the police
department of Guatemala at a salary of
1 J.">,000. Hcrgeant Pratt Mja :
Guatemala baa a raized population cf
abont 5C.000. On my arrival there I
fonnd that the city was policed by abont
200 Itarefootoil men who were armed
with sabers. They were the moat
wretched looking policemen yon ever
saw. There was no discipline. The
men did aa tbey pleased. In the day
time yon could never see any of them
and at night yon might And them loaf
ing at street corners when they were not
"occupied in crime." The laws of the
republic were defied, crime was ram
pant, and it was as mneh as a man's
life was worth to venture ont of doors
at night I took in the aitnation at a
glance, and came to the conclusion that
the policemen were in point of moral
ity not much better than the moat doe
perate criminals with which the city
abounded. It seemed to me that many
of the erimea reported were committed
bt the police, or by others with their
aid. • • • There aro about 1,000
soldiers in the city, with a proportion
ate number of officers, who seem to
have nothing to do but attend cock
fights. You can see officers at any honr
of the day passing through the streets
with game-cock* nnder their arms. They
haTo s great passion for oockflghting.
The soldiers do sentinel doty through
out the city, bat it is only a matter of
form and kept up because it has been a
custom for many years. We did not
get along with the soldier* very wall at
first. The first Hnnday that we turned
ont in uniform some of the men were
attacked by the soldiers and injured. I
reported the matter to the president
and the minister of war. The result
was that the nezt day each of the of
fending soldiers reooived 100 lashes
Hinoe then the tvo bodies have go.
along nicely.
THE HOME DOCTOR.
Ilrnlil, Alphabet.
<V a soon as you aro op shako blanket* and
sheets;
II - otter ho without shoo* than sit with wet
feet;
C hildrc nif healthy are acijve, not still ; vug
l> amp U~L and damp clothes will hoth make
you ill;
E-at slowly aud always <|, cw your food
well;
I'—rcshc-n tho air in tho house where you
dwell;
<J artiii tits must never Ist made too tight;
II erne* should he health?, airy and light.
I f you wish to lo well, as you do, l'vo rio
doubt,
.1 us! open the windows before you go out.
K—rep your morns always tidy and clean ;
li- tt duet on tho furniture never ho aeeu.
M uli lllaans Is causod by tbs want of pure
air;
X ow, to o]K-n the windows be ever your
care;
O-ld rags and old nibhiati thould never he
kept ;
I* eople elmuld sot that their floor* are well
swept.
V nick movements in children are be-altby
and right;
It . member, the young cannot thrive without
light.
K ee that the cistern is clean to the hrim ;
T- the care that your dress Is all tidy an 1
trim ;
U— we your rnise to find if there he a had
drain,
V ery sal ore the fevers that come from lis
train;
Walk as much as yon ran without feeling
fatigue ;
X crxea could walk lull many a league.
Y— our health is your wealth, which your wis
dom must keep;
7. <al will help a g.ysl cause, and th good
you will nap.
flow lo Itratorr (h- Drotv/.rrf,
Doctor Howard, medical officer of
New York harbor, recently explained at
tho receiving-house of tbo Royal Hu
mane society, London, his method of
resuscitating persons taken from the
water in a state of insensibility. The
principles upon which he acts are those
of clearing away the water and mucus
which prevent the entrance of air into
the lungs, and the imitation of the
movements of the chest in respiration.
He first empties tho stomach and pus
sagos of water. For this he places the
patient face downward, puts a roll of
something hard under the pit of tb"
stomach, so that it is above the level
of the mouth, and then presses with
all his force on the back. Afterward,
to set up artificial breathing, instead of
the partial rolling of the body or the
[inmping a-tion of the arms now prao
ticed, lire body is laid upon the back
with tho clothes stripped down to the
waist. The pit of the stomach is now
raised to the highest point by some
thing under the liack. A bundle of
clothing or tho l>ody of another man
will do for thia. The head is thrown
back and the tongue must be drawn for
ward by an assistant, so as to keep
open the entrance to the sir tubes. The
hands are passed above the bead, the
wrista crossed, and the arms kept
firmly extended. In this position the
cheat is fully eipandcd. The operator
then kneels astride tho body, plaoes his
hands on the lower part of the ribs,
and steadily aud gradually makei com
pression. Balancing on his knees he
inclines himself forward till his face
nearly touches that of the patient, and
so lets fall the whole weight of the
tiody upon ihe chest. When this has
yielded as mnch as it will bo throws
himself hack by a sudden push to his
first erect position of kneeling, and the
elastic rihe by their expanding bellows
action draw air into the longs. These
maneuvers must be repeated regolarlv
twelve or fifteen times jp the minute.—
Jtr. Font* t tlmlth M'tilh y.
The Bridal Package of Greenbacks.
Nearly every bridal couple that come*
to Washington—and Wa*hington is the
national bridal Mecca—visits the treas
ury vaults. The young and invariably
interesting couple want to closely in
spect Uncle Sam's plentiful shekels.
When they enter the vsnlt the msc in
charge of it, after a few preliminary
words of explanation, hands down a
package of notes from a shelf and tells
the bride to take it in her bands. He
then explains that this package contains
920,000,000 in United States treasury
notes. The yonng lady is delighted to
be able to go away and say that she has
held so much money in her own hand a
She is just too utterly pleased. The
groom also wants to handle the pack
age. They are fnrther told that the
notes are all of the denomination of
fIO,OOO. They oonstitute what is known
as the " bridal package." Young mar
ried tourist*, baring heard of this pack
age, often ask to handle it just as noon
as they enter the vaults. This is all
very pretty. But it is e fraud on the
young people. The treasury here does
not hold that amount of money, The
bulk of the money is in the enb treasury
at New York. That " bridal package''
is a gay deceiver. It does contain, bow
ever, notes of the denomination of tlO,-
000, which would, in the aggregate,
represent *20,000,000 if they were only
signed. Bat they are minus the neces
sary signet nrra.
The Indiana of Texas use the sophora
bean to prod no* intoxiostion. Half a
bean will produce the desired effect.
ILmiuf-reiirN# of liouftf How.
William Winter, the New York
dramatic critic and poet, was an inti
mate friend of Longfellow; and in some
unusually interesting rniniiiiscenco# o
tLe dead poet he Kay# ;
I recall many talk# with him, about
poetry, and the avenue# of literary
labor, and the discipline of the mind
i# youth. Hi# counsel wo# alway#
(rammed up in two word#—calm nee* and
patience. He did not believe ;n seeking
experience, or in going to meet burden#.
" Whet you desire will come, if you will
but wait for it"—that he aaid to me
again and age in. "My great ambition
once was," he remarked, one evening,
"to edit a magazine. Hinoe then the
opportunity has been offered to me
many time#—and I did not take it, and
would not." That Name night he spoke
of hi# iir#t poem—the lir#t that ever
WOH printed—and described hi# trepida
tion, when going, in the evening, to
drop the precious manuscript into the
editor'# box. Thi# wo# at a weekly
newspaper office in Portland, Maine,
when he was a boy. Publication day
arrived and the paper came out—but
not a word of the poem. " Hut I Lad
another copy," he said, "and I im
mediately sent it to the rival weekly,
and the next week it wan published."
And then he described hi# exultation
and inexpressible joy and pride, when
—having bought a copy of the paper,
still damp from Ihe press, and walked
with it into a by street of the town—he
saw, for the first time, a poem of hi#
own actually in print 1 "I Lave never
since had KUch a thrill of delight," he
said, "over any of my publication#."
Hi# sense of humor found especial
pleasure in the inappropriate words that
were sometimes said to him by persons
whose design it was to be compliment
ary, and he would relate, with a keen
relish of their pleasantry, anecdote#
against himself, to illustrate this form
of social blunder. Years ago he told
rae, at Cambridge, about the strange
gentleman who was led up to Lim and
introduced at Newport, and who
straightway said with enthusiastic fer
vor: "Mr. Longfellow, I have long de
sired the honor of knowing you? i am
one of the few men who have read your
'Evangeline.'" This anecdote, in
recent day#, ha coupled with another,
about an English lady, who, on being
introduced, exclaimed: " Why, Mr.
Longfellow. I thought yen were dead!"
" So, madams, you aee I take the liberty
of living." "Ye#—but I thought at
least yon belonged to Washington'#
time." Another of his favorite# w#
lelatcd to me a day or two a!ter it oc
curred. The poet'# rule was to rcservo
the morning for work, and visitors were
not received before l'i o'clock, noon.
One morning a man forced his way past
the servant who bad opened the hall
door, and burst in upon the presence of
the astonished author in his library; and
thereupon ensued this remarkable con
versation: O Mr. Longfellow, you're a
poet, I believe." " Well, sir, some
persons have said so." " All right, Mr.
Longfellow. Poet it is. Now, I've
called here to see If I couldn't git you
to write some poetry, for me to have
printed, and stnek onto my medicine
bottles. You see, I go round sellin' this
medicine, and if yon'il do it, it'll help
me immensely; and I'll just tell you
right now, if you'll give me the poetry,
ril give you a bottle of the carminative
—and it'a $1 a bottle." For the full
enjoyment of this story it was needfnl
to see the poet's faoe, and bear the de-
bland tone of voice in which be
added— "Toe idea of it# being a car
minative of all things." More than
twenty-four year# ago be told me that
incident—eitting by the wide fireplace,
in the library back of hi# study. A# I
write liis words now, the wind seem#
again to be moaniug in the chimney,
and the firelight flicker# on hi# pale,
handsome, happy face, aud already sil
vered hair. He took such delight in
any bit of quiet fun, like that. He was #o
gracious, so kind, >o wishful to make
every one happy that came near him.
And now be is gone forever.
A llraN Oincocloa.
Two old travelers are exchanging in
teresting reminiscence#—in plain Eng
lish, (Yapping lies.
"1 passed six months in Guinoa
once," mid one, "and found it horribly
hot. It was so hot, sir, that whenever
I wanted a breath of fresh air I bad to
crawl into my trunk."
"When I was in Senegal, sir," re
plies his companion, "I was detailed to
take charge of an expedition into equa
torial Zimsambia, and suoh weather as
we had I never experienced before or
sine\ Why, sir, it was 213 degrees in
the shade I"
" Whew! But how did you manage
to exist in such a temperature f*
" Why, we—w# kept in the sua P
Amateur printer—There is no regular
pastry cook connected with a printing
office, although sometimes when one of
the hands makes a little pie he makes
the foreman n little tart, and then,
perhaps, the latter complains of being
"out of sorts."—Zietfo* ft—sreis