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wuh iuuhu roi.KS.
JOIINXVM OWN.
Two little urchin*
in nUhtiiown* white.
Kneeling to pray
In the wiftened light
Of the tlieilod lump.
Make the losing eye*
Of the mother damp
With aiweel iiirprlue
A* she catchee t ho word*
On Johnny'* tongue
So nmalcal soft,
Whether said or lung
She hardly knew;
But their melody rang
In her treasuring oar
For many n year
After Johnny grew
Through boyhood and youth
Pure, generous, true.
They murmured " I lay mV
And “ Dear laird Mm*,'”
Then silence fell—
And thoughtfulness,
And Elsie, the baby,
Almost oslot'is
Could barely creep
To her pillow >fL
But Johnny aloft
Ills fine eyes raised
In a childlike faith,
As if he gazed
In the human face
Of the children’s friend.
Divinely sweet
As It used to bifid.
With the blessing hand
On the curly bind.
“ I tear Lord," said be,
“ E!b>. my slsler,
And Johnny, that's me.
We want two big red applM,
As big as eon be I
We want then to-morrow,
Please send tin ui down bore,
Thf Hggut to titny,
Khr't tuah a litto drarf
A fervent 11 Amen"
In n cnllileiit tone,
And Johnny's “ own prayer "
Was uresenllv done.
What Little Nall Hid.
Hicy wore going hazel-nutting up in
tho north lot—the Phil brick children
and Little Nell.
Little Noll wna not one of tho Phil
itrick children; in fact, alto was not the
most tlistaut sort of a oouaiu to Will,
Jack, and Polly.
She was Dick Long’s daughter, and
Dick Long hud boon a poor, shiftless fel
low, who cobbled shoes, for a time, in
the village, two miles from the Philbriok
farm, and thon went away to California,
nevor to l>o hoard from again.
He was not much loss, to be sure, so
tho neighbors thought, but it killed his
wife, and when she diod, good Mrs.
Philbrick opened hor motherly heart and
arms to Littlo Nell, and took nor in.
Hor real name was Henrietta, but Miss
Jack son, tho drossmnker, who read
Oharlos Dickons’ stories a great deal,
called her one day, “Little Noll,” and ii
dung to her ever after.
You boo she was a quiet, shy little
creature, with such big, soft, brown
oyos, and such a sweet, cooing voice, that
“Henrietta” scorned too long and hard a
name for her.
It was Hatnrday afternoon, and, as I
♦old you, Will and .Tack and Polly and
Little Nell wore going liazel-nutting.
They each carried a basket, and each
basket bad a flaky applo turnover.
Those woro for lunch, in case the chil
dren got hungry; and wo know, don’t
vti\ that growing, wide-awake hoys and
girls arc always getting hungry?
It was a long time before they reached
the north lot. Polly forgot her “kid
lingers, ” and had to go back for them,
else her poor littlo hands would have
boon stuck full of prickles. Thon Jack
must needs chase a woodpecker a long
way while the throe waited for him.
Put they got their baskets full of nuts,
with their prickly coverings, and ate
their turnovers —all hut Jack. That is
to Kay, Jack ate his turnover with the
rest, but ho luul not tilled his basket.
1 think he had spent too nmcji of the
afternoon in chasing tho little rod
squirrels, and in balancing himself on the
smooth log which spanned the brook.
Now the sun bad gone down. It was
growing late and chilly.
Jack kicked crossly at a decayed
stump.
“Yon should have worked more and
played less,” laughed Will, looking at
hi own heaped up banket.
“Mind your own broad and butter,”
retorted Jack, savagely“ You needn’t
bo afraid of my Raking for any of yours. ”
i t was not at all a niee way tor a
brother to talk. So tbight Little Nell,
and ahe flapped her hand softly into
Jack’*. "(tome homo now, Jacky,” she
aaid. “and I’ll give you half of mino.”
.Tack laughed, and gave the old stump a
parting kick, A cloud of dust flew up.
,Turk's foot had hammered its way
through the rotten wood. The stump
was hollow. Jack pulled his foot out,
am! after it rolled and rattled a rich,
brown stream of nuts—tliroo quarts at
the very least 1
“Hooray!" shouted Jack, capering
wildly about. “I don’t want any of any
body'a nuts, now!"
Then he seised his basket and began
to sooop in the treasure, by handfuls.
Little Noll looked on with wide-open
eyes. “Whoput ’em there?" ahe asked.
“It’s a squirrel’s store-house," ans
wered WilL
“Wasn’t he a jolly little fellow? and
wasn't it lucky I kicked?” cried Jack,
briskly digging away the decayed wood,
to look for more.
The big brown eyes ran over with
tears, as Little Nell begun to understand.
“Don’t take them, Jack," she pleaded.
“I’ll give you all of mine.”
“All of yours ain’t half so many as
is here; and why shouldn’t I take 'em,
I’d like to know? Finding is having,
Little Noll."
“You didn't say so when I found your
ten cent piece," said Polly, swinging her
basket.
•lack reddened, remembering what a
bmo there had been about that ten-ceut
piece. “Yon keep still, Polly Phil
brick!” ho ;aid; “I aint a chipmunk, an'
a teu-oent piece isn't nuts. Ain’t there a
lot, though ?’’
And it was quite in vain that Little
Nell begged him to put them back.
Bhe walked homo beside Polly, silent
and sorrowful.
“We might give ours, roily,” she
said; “ turn them down in a little heap
side of the stump, you know, where he
oould find them easy. O Polly, what
will he do, when he goes to his house
and finds they’re all taken away?"
This was a long speoch for Little Nell
to make.
Put Polly laughed at her. “ You lit
tle goosey,” she said, “tho squirrel
won’t mind, and don't you think about it
any more.”
But-she did. She could not help it.
At the supper-table that night, Mamma
Philbrick counted noses. There was one
missing; a little straight nose, under a
pair of big, brown eves.
“Where is little Nell, children?”
“ I haven’t soon her since we came
home,” said Will.
“ Nor I," said Jack.
“I haven’t, either,” said Polly, “but
I know whero she's gone. Jack robbed
a squirrel’s hole to-day, and little Nell
cried about it. She wanted to give the
squirrel her hazel-nuts, an’ I wouldn’t
wonder if that's where she is.”
“What’s that?” asked Mr. Soule. '
Mr. Soule was a drover, who hail oome
to buy Papa Philbrick’s cattle. He had
very sharp block eyes and a snappy
VOIOO.
Polly jumped. “Oh!" said she, and
npset her teacup. Then she had to tell
the story all over.
“Well, I never!” said Papa Philbrick ;
while the drover’s black eyes twinkled
with delight.
Presently the door opsned and Little
Nell crept in, breathless, with rod
chocks, and soft hair blown about her
face. She put her empty baskvt down
gently
“Did Mister Chippy make a !>ow, and
say ‘Thankee mum? ” asked Jack, with
a iaugli.
“Don’t you tease the child !” ordered
Papa Philbriok.
Then Little Nell had her supper.
Mamma Philbrick gave her oae of the
nicest gold-band china bowls, full ol
milk, and a silver spoon to sip it from.
After that, Mr. Soule took hor on his
lap, and told her stories, in his sharp,
snappy voice, until bed time.
The next day but one, the ohildren
went to the spot whero Little Nell had
left her hazel-nuts; but they had all dis
appeared. Little Nell was quite sura
the Hquirrel had oarried them off tc his
new house. I think so too
But the best is not told.
When Papa Philbrick onme home
from the village postoflice, one night,
not long after this, he brought a little
box, directed to “Mr. Jonas Philbrick.”
When *ho l>ox was opened—guess?
It was full of nuts of every kind,—
walnuts, butternuts, peanuts, filberts,
and castanaa- “sheep toes,” -Tack called
them.
There wae a card, too. This is what
it said:
“From Master Chippy Squirrel, to the
tender-hearted little girl who gave him
all her hazel-nuts.”
“That’s Littlo Nell?” shouted tho
ohildren.
And Little Nell divided her treasures,
happy as a quoeu.— Youth’t Compan
ion.
Speculations as to the Fntnre Life.
Years ago, in tho days of Bishop But
ler, very much stress was laid upon the
analogies in nature illustrating, and sup
porting the idea of a future life, aud the
treatises then written wore models of in
tellectual i>ower and patient research. A
grout, impression was produced, not only
upon uneducated but educated minds.
Since that period science has progressed
with giant strides, and at ovory step has
so largely added to the list of striking
analogies or incidental proofs, that tho
illustrations of early data seem few in
number and dwarfed in proportion aud
force. The idea of an unseen immaterial
existence involves, also, the idea of un
seen activities and correspondence in the
rayless realm. Tho most stolid of us can
not fail to he impressed with tho beauti
ful Analogies which recent scientific dis
covery affords. Do wo not every day
converse with unseen friends long dis
tances awav, do we not recognize their
familiar voices, in homes separated from
us by rivers, woods, and mountains?
These voices come out of the darkness,
guided by a frail wire which science pro
vides as a pathway. Even when the cur
tain of night is drawn about us the
voices are heard, and we have not
the shadow of a doubt of thoir integrity
aud identity.
And further, have we not analogies of
sight which startle us by their signifi
oauce ? Is it not true that when abroad
we are open to the view of unseen ob
servers long distances from us, and our
evorvactaud movement known? The
excellence of optical instrument* is such
that we have seen the motion of the lips
of persons in conversation, while sitting
on a liouso balcony three miles distant,
the observed, of course, wholly unoon
soious of being seen by any one. If our
friends in this life, dead to ns (hidden as
they are by the shroud of space), can be
seen, and we can hear their voices, their
shouts of laughter, the words of tho
hymns they sing, the cries of tho little
ones in the mothers’ ai ms, is it very ab
surd to anticipate a time when those
deiul to us by the dissolution of the
body may, by some now unknown tele
phone, send us voices from a realm close
at baud, but hidden from our mortal
eye*.
We have no proofs to offer that this
realm of the departed, this home of the
soul, is close at baud, bat it is oertaiuly
more reasonable aud sensible to adopt
this hypothesis than the popular one of
a material world or place, somewhere
afar off in tho depths of space. One
view seems possible, the other absurd.
—Boston Journai of Chemistry.
“My case is just here,” said a citizen
to a lawyer : “The plaintiff will swear
that I hit him. I will swear that I did
not. Now what can you lawyers make
of that if we go to trial ?” “ Five dol
lars apiece ! ’’ was the prompt reply.
To Make Boys Happy.
Little boys aro particularly delighted
with woolen balls and knitted reins. The
; balls aro made on a largo scale exactly
■ a* ore tho little woolen tassels used for
l hoods and baby socks. Take a perfectly
i round pieeo of stont pasteboard just the
(liaimtor you want your ball to be. Cut
a good-sized circular hole in the center,
and with double zephyr of any color
thread (double) on a worsted needle go
over and over the card evenly all around
until the hole is ho filled with wool you
cannot force tho needle through. Then
with sharp scissors dip the wool all
round tho outer edge of the card, so that
the latter is oxjxised. Press the wool,
which has expundod when cut into a hall,
away on one side so that you can slip a
very stont but small twine around it
dose to tho card. Tie the twine end*
together ns tightly and as firmly as pos
sible ; then cut and pull away the card
completely, and you have a very pretty
and elustio hall. Trim the ball witn
sharp scissors till completely smooth
and evon.
For the knitted reins take double
zephyr wool and a pair of ivory knitting
needles. Cast on twenty stitches, and
knit in plain knitting a stripe of ten
inches in length, always slipping the first
stitch of every row; cust off. To each
end of this stripe is attached a circle for
the arms, which is made thus : Take a
piece of cord, the kind used for hanging
pictures, and make a circle the size of a
dtild's arm at the shoulder ; sew the
anils firmly together, splicing tho one a
little past the other ; then cover the cord
with cotton, wool, or flannel, to make it
soft; then cover lastly with a stripe of
knitting, casting on eight stitches and
knitting the length required, plain every
row; sew it on overcast on the inner
side. Before attaching the stripe (of
twenty stitches broad, which was first
knittod) to the armholes there ought to
be sewn upon it, with some contrasting
color, a name such as Beauty, Fairy,
etc., and to the under edge should be at
tached three or four little bells ; if the
knitting be of green or crimson, make
the letters in yellow with gilt bells.
. When attaching this stripe for the
chest to the arm-holes do not let the
sewing be seen, but overcast on the in
ner side to the overcastings on the arm
holes. Cast on eight stitches and knit
in plain knitting a rein the length re
quired, two and a half yards being long
enough, as it stretches with use. Attach
the ends to the armholes at tha back,
sewing to the overcasting. Then finish
by knitting a stripe twenty stitches in
breadth and ton inches in length, the
ends of which low to the arm-holes at
the back at tho same place as the rein.
Malarial Troubles.
Just now the human family seems to
to be infested with malarial affections.
Various attempts have been made to ac
count for the prevalence of malaria. Lo
cations which have never heretofore ex
hibited any traces of it are in many in
stances found to give trouble to some of
the oldest inhabitants. It is probable
that there in more than one cause for
this. Our atmosphere varies in its qual
ities even moro than a stream varies in
the character of its waters. The air that
we live iu may not only be affected by
celestial bodies but by the vegetation
übove ground aud the minerals under
ground. These complex causes may
produce atmospherio conditions alto
gether different, at one time, from those
existing at another. It is not impossible
that the perihelion lias something to do
with malaria. Another cause has per
haps not been thought of. It is the
hard times through which the business
and labeling people have passed. Since
1873. until quite recently, those who de
pended upon business or npon daily
labor for support have been nearly wor
ried to death. Tho vital system greatly
lowered by any cause becomes more
easily the prey to disease. A person in
rugged health in many instances may be
found to be living in a well-known ma
larious climate without suffering from
malaria. It is when, from any cause,
his vital system becomes reduced that
he prepares himself for tho rocoption of
a malarial poison. We submit, therefore,
in all seriousness the proposition that
the hard times have had much to do
with the prevalance of malaria.
It used to be supposed that malaria
could only produce fever and ague or
chill and fever. It lifts found, how
ever, that, like a cold, malaria affects the
weakest part, or brings to prominence
latent physical difficulties. Without
having any of the characteristic symp
toms of malaria, aocording to the old
idea, a person may be a great sufferer
from it. It may awaken rheumatism,
neuralgia, and a host of aches and pains
in different parts of the system. It may
affect the liver only, or the digestion on
ly, or tho urinary organs only. It may
produce nothing more than drowsiness
and general debility If there be lung
affection, or a uterine trouble, or a spin
al affection, or, indeed, any ill to which
the flesh is subject, .it may be greatly
aggravated by what is now commonly
denominated “malarial influence."
The treatment of physical ills pro
duced or aggravated by a malarial influ
ence must be comprehensive enough to
give attention to every disabled part.
The thing to do is to build up the entire
system, every organized part, to tlje end
that the recuperative powers of the sys
tem may be fully restored. This accom
plished, nature will soon divest herself
of malarial influence.— Dr. Foote’s
Health Monthly.
“Woman! Second only to the press
iu the dissemination of the news,” was a
toast offered at a printer’s festival lately.
It was meant for a compliment.
—-- #
Representative Horace Davis, of
Sau Francisco, who has lost his election,
is a nephew of George Bancroft, and
the husband of Starr King’s only daugh
ter,
The Man Who Smiles.
I met him, not long since, the man
who smiles. It is not a “company
smile," such as many housewives put off
with their social duties, nor yet the
meaningless, conventional Binile of an
actor, hut a real smile—one that ripples
and bubbles up from a mind at peace
with God and man, and which illumines
the whole face with light. Evon when
the face is at rest, the smile seems to be
there, hiding in tho corners of tho eyes
or tho month, to break out at an instant’s
notice, like the sun from a cloud. We
feel that it is always there.
Some might say, “But, evidently,
your smiling face is the index of a sor
rowless, untroubled life.” Not so.
Like One of old, this man “has seen
sorrow and is acquainted with gnef ;”
but I think that the almost-imperooptible
lines on his forehead would have been
vet more plainly marked if, instead of
burying his troubles underneath a cheer
ful face and a beaming smile, he had set
up a tombstone of lines and furrows to
mark its existence.
Give me man who smiles, who can
laugh ofton and heartily ; who smiles as
the sun shines, bocauso he cannot help
it. Little children love him as they
love flowei*s and sunshine. Men love to
meet him in their daily labors, and feel
refreshed by liis cheerfulness, while we
instinctively put our trust and confi
dence in him.
We are to apt to carry our troubles on
our faces, instead of burying them in
our hearts, where their gloom and woe
cannot add to the misery of an already
overburdened world. Then smile when
you oan ; be merry while you may ; add
a bit of sunshine, if only that of a
bright smile or cheerful word, to tho
host of sorrowing beings about you, and
in making sunshine for them the gloom
of your own life will be dispelled and,
perhaps, forgotten.— Exchange.
A l ight With a Whale.
Lord Archibald Campbell sends to the
Edinburgh Scotsman the following of a
battle, of which he was a witness, be
tween a thrasher, sword-fish, and a
whale, offßclleisle. His lordship who
was a passenger on lxmrd tho Peruvian,
writes: “When fairly outside Belleisle
Island, with icebergs of n>" great size on
either bow, and fairly itv the Arctic cur
rent, and the Teutonia on our starboard
bow, the first officer told me he had seen
twice a largo ‘ tin ashei fish leap clean
out of tho water not far from our bows.
We kept a close watch near about where
he had last seen the fish; nor had we
long to wait, and for the next ten
minutes to a quarter of an hour we
watched a most tremendous fight between
this fish and a large whale which, evi
dently attacked also from below by
sword-fish, was ineffectually trying to
‘sound’ and do all in its migbt-y power
to get away, but there was no escape.
The thrasher, an enormous fish—reckoned
by the first officer and head engineer at
thirty feet in length—kept continually
lashing tho whale with its powerful tail,
and, as if not satisfied that these stun
ning blows had'told,'threw itself into
air with enormous leaps, lauding on the
whale with the most resounding ‘whacks.’
The sublime and the ludicrous were
strangely blended in those attacks. The
passengers and crew were all gathered
at the bulwarks, fascinated by the
gigantic fight. The whale turned in its
agony almost belly uppermost, casting
itself about in all'directions, but there
was no escape It never got deep below
the surface which was churned by its
mighty efforts into a seething mass of
foam. The combatants went right in
tho teeth of the rvind and sea then run
ning We saw the whale in a regular
‘flurry’ ofton, and when our straining
eyes last saw them they were as hard at
it as ever, and it was the opinion of most
on board that the whale was fast sicken
ing The whole of the under part of the
whale was white and I hope someone
will give me some information ns to its
species From the tips of the tail to the
jaw it was as if it was painted pure
white a leaden color above. There were
many on board who had sailed the At
lantic for upward of thirty years, but had
never seen such a fight. It took place,
so to speak, close to both vessels, the
fight raging between our ship and the
Teutonia.”
Equal to the Emergency.
A London newspaper tells a curious
story of a gentleman who proposed to
tne lady who is now his wife at a dinner
party. He had been a lover for some
time, but never quite persuaded himself
up to tho point of popping the question.
During the eventful dinner he learned
from the person sitting next him that a
rival intended that evening to make an
attack upon his Dulcinea’s heart. She
was sitting some distance from him at
the table, and the rival was at her side.
He was equal to the emergency, how
ever, for, tearing a half leaf from his
note book, he wrote upon it: “Will you
be my wife ? ’Write your answer, yes or
no, upon this paper, and return it to
me.”
Calling a waiter, the ingenious lovel
sent the missive to “the lady in biue at
the end of the table—lie very careful.”
The servant did as directed, but the lov
er in his anxiety forgot to send his pen
cil. The lady had presence of mind,
however, and—tucking the note into her
bosom —said to the waiter:
“Tell the gentleman yes.”
A Murray Hill, New York, girl has
had one of her shapely feet modeled
in marble, and has presented it as a
birthday present to her affianced husband
for a paper weight. A St. Louis girl did
the same thing, but the unaesthetic
crenturo to whom she is to he united
heartlessly utilized the gift as a founda
tion for his new residence.
A good farmer is better than a poor
doctor, and a good liorscshoer ris better
than a Bishop who preaches sermon that
nobody wants to hem - . — Robert Collyer.
IIEMORS OF THE DAY.
The man who drinks 'alf an’ ’alf guts
of’en off.
It is the flat who loves to have others
flatter him.
Many a broth of a boy lias been re
duced to a supe at the theatre.
A man out in Nebraska died the other
day while blowing his nose. It waa a
fatal blow.
Yon can toll when a reporter is going
to make a point by the way he sharpen*
his pencil.
To remove superfluous hair—Send
your well filled mattress to be done over
by a cheap upholsterer.
Tins book agent knows he is solid
when he wipes his feet on a door mat in
which the word “Welcome” is woven.
Oct in the mines they shoot a man
who refuses to drink his soup straight
from the plate.— Elmira Free Press.
A disfigured man feels bad, of course,
about licing marked for life; but when he
is marked for death he must feel worse.
An exchange says: “Streams all over
the oounty are running dry.” This is a
canard. When a stream is dry it can’t
run.
A Kittle girl who was much petted
said: “I like sitting on gentlemen’s
knees better than on ladies’; don’t you,
>y
ma.
Of forty cases on the docket of the
Fayette County (Texas) District Court,
nineteen are for divorce. Only twenty
one murders!
When Brutus and Cassius wore boys
the girls used to say that Brute was such
a nice fellow, but they preferred Cash.
The girls haven’t changed one bit.
“Will you tako ’em on shell ?”
asked the agreeable oyster opener.
“No,” said the stranger, regardless of
expense, “whole shell or nothing.”
Indignation will fill the breast of every
artist when we state that two men were
arrested in a lumber yard the other day
because they were suspected of a design
on wood.
Mistress —“ Mary, this venerable goose
is tough enough to break one’s teeth.”
Maid—“Yesin; didn’t von tell me,
ma’am, that you wanted it for a piece da
resistance? ’
Of a miserly man who died of soften
ing of the brain, a local paper said: “His
head’gave way, but liis hand never did.
His brain softened but his heart
couldn’t.”
A Providence paper says a prominent
citizen of New Hampshire died ‘ ‘of in
flammation of the bowels, aged forty-eight
years.” Pretty old inflammation, we
should say.
Two children in the Tulleries were ex
tolling the qualities of their respective
papas “Mine is as tall as the garden
wall,” said one. “My papa can see
over the garden wall.” “Andmine, too,
when he lias his hat on. ”
A witness under cross-examination,
who had been tortured by a lawyer for
several hours, at last asked for a glass of
water. “There,” said the Judge, “I
think you’d bettor let the witness go
now, as you have pumped him dry.”
Native Alaskan ladies of fashion wear
entire suits made of sealskin, drink whis
ky and eat whalo’s blubber; and they
are not a bit stuck up about it, either.
There is a moral concealed in the busi
ness end of this paragraph.
The late Bev. Dr. Symington, not feel
ing well one Sunday morning, said to his
beadle, who was a “character:” “Man
Robert, I wish you would preach for mb
to-day.” “loanna do that,” promptly
replied Robert, “but I often pray for
you.”
“Old woman, how do you sell beets?”
asked a loafer of an old vegetable woman
in the market, and she replied: “I just
tell ’em I’ll trust ’em, an’d then give ’em
stuff that looks all right and ain’t good
for nothing. They don’t like the sell
either. ”
Improved Mortar for Plastering.
Anew method of making mortar for
plastering walls has been devised, which
is confidently said by those who are in
formed as to it to be superior to any
other ever yet tried. Stucco or plaster
of-paris is used instead of lime in mak
ing the mortar, one part of stucco, by
measure, being used to two parts of sand.
No hair is used for the first or ‘scratch’
coat, and three coats of plastering are
put on. In mixing the stucco and sand
a quart of glue water is used to the pail
ful of sand and stucco mixed, and then
cleau water is added until the mortar is
of the right consistency. The mortar
must be used as soon as mode, and only
made in small quantities at a time. It is
claimed that it will make a harder, more
perfect wall, can be used to better ad
vantage. aud is little if any more expen
sive.—Grand. Rapids Foyle.
Bobby and the Plaster.
Bobby Blinkers was a Nevada boy,
and didn’t want to go to school. He did
not put in his appearance at breakfast,
and about 9 o’clock his mother went up
to see what was the matter. Bob was
writhing about the bed from an impro
vised stomach-ache. “All right,” said
the oldlady. “I’ll apply a mustard plas
ter,” and in a few minutes a hot mustard
plaster containing two square feet of
motive power was spread upon the boy’s
abdomen. “Mother, how long must
this thing stay on?” “I guess I’ll be
able to take it off about 4 this afternoon,
and then if I can get an emetic to work,
it'll be all right. Lie still, my boy, I’ll
bring you through. ” Then Bob rose up
immediately and started for school, and
the plaster was the cause of his being
an hour late.
Some well-balanced person says that
good nature is the fountain of all good
breeding.
Blondes, it seems, have gone out of
fashion, and many ladies will have to
quitch off.