MY SHIP. (Song of m Pessimist.) I wonder when the day will come For which I've waited long, When all my sorrowing is done And life is one glad song, When every debt is off the slate, My promises made true, When I'll be good and wise and great And have a cent or two; When care and grief have passed away And peace ana joy begin: Upon the glad and happy day When my fair ship comes in. MATRIMONIAL SELECTION. THAT we girls of the present day are a vast improvement upon what our mothers were; that we take a more practical, a more sensible view of life; that we have jettisoned nearly all those silly, artificial conventions by which the Victorian woman set so much store, no candid observer will deny. Yet, even now, some of the aforesaid Billy conventions still survive, and one, the silliest of all; I mean the relation of woman to man In the preliminaries which lead, through courtship, to wed lock. Nearly forty years ago Darwin startled the old wives of his day by exploding upon them, as a bombshell, his novel theory of natural selection. I, too, in my smaller way have startled some old wives of my generation by torpedoing them, so to speak, with my novel theory of matrimonial selec tion. But I must tell you all about that theory; why X formed it, and how I carried It into practical effect. First, then, as to why I formed it. I had not been "out" many months when it occurred to me to inquire into the reason of the absurd custom by which the right of selection and pro posal lies exclusively with the man; to ask myself why it was that he should be free to pick and choose, whereas she—his equal In many things and Ills superior in most—should have to con tent herself with being picked anil chosen. And when I came to look Into the point—to inquire the "why" of It, I discovered that there was no "why." but that it was merely a mean ingless convention—an empty custom, existing because it existed, and ob served because people were foolish enough to observe it. Nay, it was more than meaningless—lt was rotten, it was iniquitous. If marriage means anything to cither party (a point, per haps. open to discussion, upon which I will not here embark), it means more to the woman than to the man. To him 'tis but an Incident, to her ft l a career; to him 'tis still the same old tune, with variations; to her 'tis a brand new piece that has to he learned and studied ah initio. Of this fact the name process is emblematical. Let liim be Mr. Smith, let her be Miss Jones. The.v marry. What of him? He remains Sir. Smith to the end of the chapter. What of her? Her "Miss" becomes forthwith converted into "Sirs.." her "Jones" transformed into "Smith." Her former name and style know her no more. In one word, he Is the absorber, she the absorbed. Now to be absorbed the process of absorption is far more momentous than to the absorber. That is axiomatic. It therefore follows that if cither one has a greater liberty than the other in the field of selection, that one should be the woman. But in practice—by a most absurd convention—tilings are precisely the reverse. Man, the ab sorber, can select and propose to any number he likes of the whole fair sex. Woman, the absorbed, is limited in her choice to just those few men that may see fit to propose. While he lias thou sands to pick from, she lias only units; and those frequently the wrong units. That is the worst of it. She may see the man who Is just suited to her; whom she knows she could make hap pier than any other woman could; who would, in a word, he the ideal mate for her. But lie is not among those who have proposed to lier. Therefore, he is not within practical politics. She marries some oue else as a pis aller. But the reformer who doesn't begin by adopting in practice his own doc trines is 110 true reformer. He is a quack, a charlatan, a humbug. I am not that sort. My motto, like Straf ford's, has always been "Thorough." "As a first step." says 1 to myself, "toward transferring into woman's hands the initiative in matrimonial selection, I will exercise that initiative myself. Others, when they see my success, will follow my example; and soon the benighted custom by which my sex are trented as mete passive proposers will have been relegated to the limbo of exploded fallacies." I first mentioned my resolve to mam ma. I did not expect support from the amiable lint obsolete old dear; and I certainly did not get it. Mamma was aghast. Her liair almost stood on end; or, rather, it would have stood on end had it been hers to do so. I did not mind mamma's displeasure, how ever. Was it not the fate of all re formers to bo misunderstood, abused, derided by their own families? Be sides, was I to be turned aside from my liigli emprise by a mere outburst of obsolescence? No, Indeed! "Hs In such pinpricks thnt your whole-hearted revolutionist finds, not an obstruction, but n stimulus. So with me. It spurred me on. I resolved to open my now campaign without a moment's delay. The first thing to do, of course, was to pick out my man—my ideal mate. That was simple. In fact, I had al ready had my eye on him for some time. Ills name was Charles Wilton; his age, thirty-five; his pedigree, un exceptionable; his person, prepossess ing; his manners, agreeable; his pur suits, athletic, and his moral charac ter above reproach. Moreover (but this is Incidental, and in no wise In fluenced my considerations!, he had I sit beside the restless sea And list to the billows roar, To wonder when they'll bring to me The bliss I'm waiting for; But as I call to mind how fate Pursues her tickle way. And usually brings too late The gifts for which we pray, I sigh and bow my weary head To hide my deep chagrin— I know I'll be a long time dead When that old ship comes in. —John Wallis Clearman, in Life. lately inherited from his father a for tune of £200,000. That, then, was done. My ideal mate was selected. Next to apprise him of my selection and to invite reciprocity. This took a bit of thinking out. I thought it out. The result of my re flections was that I decided to seek expert advice; to pick up wrinkles from one or other of my married friends. I pitched on Dollie Dulverton, who had been lately absorbed by young Catti stock, of the Bays; and to her I went. After unfolding to her my scheme in general outline, I said: "All that I wish to do, at the first going off, is to change the personality of the proposer, not the method of pro posing. One must not attempt too much all at once. Therefore, I have come to you to ask if you can give me any useful tips, based upon your own experience as a past proposee." "Ah," said Dollie, smiling, "you wish me, in fact, to coach you up in the manners and rules of good proposing?" "I wisli you to tell me," I answered, "what phraseology Mr. Cattistoek made use of when he proposed to you. It may serve me as a useful line." Dollie thought for a moment or two, picking up the threads of recollection. Then she rejoined: "Very well, my dear, you shall have a precise account of all the circum stances. The affair took place at Lady X.'s dance. Frank began by remark ing that the room was devilish—he begged my pardon—confoundedly hot. I acquiesced. Have you made a note of that, my dear?" "Go on," I remarked, with some Im patience. "I wish to get to the kernel of the nut. These little preliminary breakings of the outer shell are Im material." "Nay," answered Dollie, "you can not get to the kernel without these little preliminary breakings of the outer shell. It is an Integral part of the process. However, I will proceed. Frank's next observation referred to the floor, which he declared to be a ripper. I concurred. Tlien he said, give him such a floor and a partner whose step suited Ills, don't you know, and, by Jove, what more could a fellow want? I said nothing. I only looked hard at the toes of my satin shoes. 1 knew now what was coming, and that the less I interrupted the quicker it would come. Frank cleared his throat and tugged at his mustache. Then he embarked upon a confused and un granimntie.nl rigmarole, in which 'Partner—step suited—ball of life heaven on earth,' were the only distinct anil Intelligible expressions." Dollie paused. "And that's all," she said. "Do you mean," I demanded, "thnt he never asked you, lu so many words, to marry him?" "Never! Without another remark— we were In a corner of the conserva tory behind two oleanders and a plas ter Apollo—he took me In his arms. I offered no objection. So there we were. That settled it." "Well," I said, after a brief reflec tion, "I shall meet Charles Wilton at Mrs. Z.'s dance to-morrow night: and I will see what can be done—if I get the opportunity." "'lf,' my dear?" cried Dollie. "There is no 'if' in the matter. The proposer makes ills opportunity." "I suppose he does," I was fain to admit. "There arc a good many things to learn about (his new role, after all." "It is an art and has its technicalities like every other," she replied. Which was so undeniable that I agreed to it without comment. Next evening, I went to Mrs. Z.'s dance. There, as anticipated, I met Charles Wilton. I cast about how 1 should make my opportunity. But this proved to be unnecessary. He asked me if I would sit out the fourth waits with him. I did. The ground being tints cleared, it only remained for me to put into practice Dollie's man ners and rules of good proposing. I began: "Don't you think the room—er—very hot?" Now he ought to have acquiesced. But lie didn't. lie answered, instead: "Do you think so? I find it just comfortable." Tills departure from the rules of the game rather puzzled me. What was I to do? I decided to ignore it and pro ceeil as though it had not occurred. "If you ask me," lie answered, "I should say that there is a trifle too much beeswax on it." This reply was still more upsetting. However, I made a bold dash. "Given such a floor and a partner whose stop suits one, what could a girl want more?" He was not silent. lie did not stare at tlie toes of his pumps. He did not (evidently) know what was coming. Instead, he answered genially: "Don't matter a button-top to me. The only dancing I ever do is to walk through a square. But I dare say that what you suggest is very jolly for those who like it." This was too vexing. It quite killed my opening for that metaphor about "The Ball of Life" and "Heaven on Earth," so I was brought to a stand : still. Soon nftcrward lie took me back to mamma; and the chance was gone. Evidently Dolly's method was no go. Anil on thinking it ovvf I saw vrhy it was no go. It was because it was an allusive method. Now the allusive method is. no doubt, very sound for a man, and for this reason: Woman knows him to be a proposing animal; she is, therefore, on the qui vive; she leads up to it. But a woman proposing for the first time, as I was doing, is in a very different position. The man, naturally, never suspects her inten tion (having always regarded her as a mere passive proposed; he cannot make out what she is driving at, and so her allusiveness is lost on him. "Yes," said I to myself, "there is only one way—the direct way. I must treat him as one treats children. I must bo plain, literal, precise. I must say what I mean in the most simple, un equivocal language. Yen! I must, as it were, propose to him In words of one syllable. 'I love you. Will you wed me?' There can be no mistake about that. It is the formula that I shall certainly adopt." We next met about four days later. It was in a tea shop in Bond street. I was drinking chocolate alone at a little table. There was a bunch of hyacinths in a vase on the table. He came in; he saw me; he took a chair opposite to me. Greetings were ex changed. I looked about. No one was near. Ilere was my chance. Bravely I began: "I love •" There I stopped. The "you"—simple, easy little word—would not for some reason come out. It stuck in my throat. "Well! What do you love?" he in quired. The "what" Irritated me. Was ever such incorrigible denseness? A woman would have had the sense to say "whom." as n matter of course. But he had invited a neuter, and a neuter he should have, if only to punish him. "I love—hyacinths," I said, crossly. Yet even hero there would have been away out had he possessed an ounce of perception. He had only to say, as a woman in like case would have said: "Happy hyacinths!" Then I should have remarked: "I always associate you with hya cinths." But what do you think the opaque creature did say? "Don't care for 'em myself? Smell too strong." It was really impossible to do any thing with such a perfect miracle of obtuseness. So my second chance was lost. However, a reformer who gives in after two failures is no reformer. I must try again. I must be still more simple; still more elementary In my language. After all, the "I love you. Will you wed me?" formula was what logicians would call a complex proposi tion—a combination of the categorical "I love you," which in view of what followed, was really superfluous. I would only retain the essential por tion, viz., the interrogative "Will you wed me?" Four plain words of one syllable. Surely, these admitted of no ambiguity or misapprehension. Our next encounter was in Piccadilly, on the north side, near Devonshire House. I was walking west, he east. We met face to face. I held out my hand. He took it. Now was the time. I made the fateful plunge. "Will you " Would you believe it? At that su preme moment, by the cruellest stroke of luck (surely the stars in their courses were lighting against me), I swallowed the wrong way, and had a violent chok ing fit which lasted for two minutes. It was too exnspernting. To be put off—just at' tlie critical point—by a silly little affair of the windpipe. Of course, I couldn't complete my sentence after that. It would have been like finishing one's best story when one has been interrupted in the middle. So when Charles Wilton, having waited in polite sympathy until I had done choking, remarked: "You were about to ask me " "To come to tea to-morrow after noon," I replied, feeling obliged to say something. "With the greatest pleasure," he re joined. When I returned home I found—to my satisfaction—that mamma would be out the following afternoon. "I shall see him alone. And this time I will succeed," said I to myself, setting my teeth resolutely. 1 should have succeeded, too. There is 110 doubt about that. But an un looked for accident again baffled me. Before I had time to say a word, Charles suddenly exclaimed: "I say! By Jove! don't you know." Those were his precise words. Neither more nor less. Not much in them, is there? But somehow, like Mercutio's wound, they served'. He took me in his arms. It was like leaving out all the proof in one of Euclid's "props," and jump ing straight from the hypothesis to the Q. E. D. But the Q. E. D. was reached? True. Yet see in what a position it placed me. It destroyed forever my prospects as a practical reformer in the field of matrimonial selection. I could not propose to Charles, being already en gaged to him; nor could I (for the same reason) decently propose to any one else. And, on thinking the matter over, I have come to the conclusion that, in the present backward condition of hu man affairs, my scheme of reforma tion is, after all, premature. So long as a man can propose intel ligibly by merely exclaiming: "I say! By Jove! don't you know," whereas n woman may make remarks ten thou sand times more suggestive, and yet fail to suggest anything; so long, I sny, as this irrational state of tilings ohtalns, the female proposer is simply handicapped out of it. It is iniquitous. But it is the fact. I therefore advise my sisters, like wise women, to accept the fact—and the male proposer.— Truth. BIG BORE RIFLES AND SMALL The Small 1M NO L>ubt Itetter For All* 3:oucl Purposes. The old dispute between big bores and small bores is meaningless now, because the most killing guns are the high velocity nitro guns, which are ail small bore compared with the black powder guns. The best all-round rifle is now the thirty-calibre nitro, not be cause it will do ail that is claimed for it, but because it makes so much flat ter a line to everything within reason able distance than any black powder gun can do. The ball goes too much to pieces on some shots, nud all that I have tried throw ten per cent, of balls wild, live slightly wild and live badly so. But the swiftness of the ball overbalances the other defects. An all-round rifle is almost impossible, and some sacrifice must be made. Sacrlflce for flat trajectory is not al ways a sacrlflce of accuracy, but often one In favor of it. Between seventy live and two hundred yards, the place where most shots on open ground fall, no black powder gun small enough to be carried with comfort can make up In accuracy what it loses In curve of trajectory as compared with the thirty-calibre nitro rifle. T refer to the high velocity shell and not the smoke less cartridges of the same strength as black powder. The soft-nosed bullet driven with the high power nitro is the most killing form in which a hall of equal diameter can be made for all rouml work. Those of copper or steel do not make a large enough hole for most shots on the softer parts of the body.—From Handling the Rifle on Game, from Outing. The Paper of To-Duy. Only paper of the very best quality Is now made from rags, the bulk of that employed for newspapers and book work being manufactured from wood pulp. Other materials are also coming into use to meet tlie enormous demands for paper, and plants which were at one time supposed to be of no economic importance are contributing their tiber to the manufacture. Among the new materials may be named ba gasse, tlie refuse of the sugar mills, formerly a waste product, save that It was employed for fuel. Rice straw, long only used as bedding for cattle, is also enlisted in the service of the paper maker. Spruce is the wood now generally used in making paper pulp, and of this there is a vast amount not yet drawn upon in the Dominion of Canuda, which is only waiting for rail way facilities to transport. In the meantime, protests are being raised against the quality of the paper made from these substitutes for rugs. It un swers the purpose of ephemeral litera ture; but there Is good reason to be lieve that It rapidly deteriorates, and that books made of it will have but a short life. It Is somewhat humiliating for us to have to acknowledge that our modern documents cannot compare in permanence with those written on Egyptian papyrus before our own his torical period begun.—Chambers' Jour nal. The Henrlclieiiburjr Cnnnl Lock. A novel and unusually powerful elevator for lifting canal boats and barges from one level to another is situated at Henrlchenburg, on the Dortmund-Ems Canal, in Germany. It is capable of lifting a canal boat of 800 tons burden a dlstnnce of about tifty-two feet In slightly over two minutes. The elevator itself, that is the trough in which the boat floats. Is about 220 feet long and twenty-eight feet wide. It is raised by a 150-horse power electric motor, which rotates four vertical threaded shafts, one at each corner of the lift, and 011 each of which is a threaded traveling blocU supporting the trough. As these shafts are turnod around by tlie motor the four blocks are drawn up along the threads, and carry the elevator along with them. Five floats ill a tank be neath the lock on which the elevator rests balance the weight of the trough and the water it contains, amounting in all to some