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[For The Sunny South.] THE WUl'.VUKD BIRD. BT i. A. STEWART. Beturning one evening, near setting of sun, From a mission of death to the gay birds of spring, A last charge was fired—unloading my gun— Bringing down a poor bird by a shot on the wing. Approaching the spot where the panting thing lay, I stooped down to bag it along with my game; But strength still remaining conveyed it away, And failing to grasp it, I missed of my aim. It fluttered and scrambled as onward I pressed,— Was nearly in reach as it halted and cried,— Till the poor thing at last settled down in her nest, Where her young brood were wet with her blood as she died. So touching and sad was the sorrowful sight Of the poor little nestlings unshielded and lone, It left on my conscience a sin and a blight Which years of reproaches can never atone. I cast from my hand the cold, death-dealing gun. As I gazed on the stream of the mother’s warm blood; And I turned me away to the slow-setting sun, And left the dead mother alone with her brood. Atlanta, Georgia, May, 1875. [For The Sunny South.] POOR MR. WHITE. BY PHILEMON PERCH. “And this is the grace of aright gentleman/'—Chapman. I have felt very thankful in these, latter years of my life, and often wished I could feel more so, in the recollection that in my childhood I was so much the companion of my father. During his life-time I loved and revered him greatly; hut I am confident that I did not so much admire him as within the years after his departure, in which I have reflected and learned to understand more fully how good he was, and,* in his own way, how wise. I am much given, particularly of late, to speculating upon the question whether or not, in his present estate, he knows how often I think about him and what I think. Sure I am that the best teachings I have ever received, either from men or from books (excepting the Holy Scriptures), were those which came from him. My mother — perhaps a more virtuous, certainly a more pious person than he—has less wisdom and a lower gift of imparting instruc tion. She taught well, but rather by rote and maxims, employing many words. He gave few set lessons, and often when he taught the best, I did not know that he was intending to teach at all. Indeed, I suspect that he gave me many a lesson without knowing it was a lesson. For there were things which he did, not, I am confi dent, for the sake of setting an example for me, but because long habit in their practice had made them so natural as to be unintentional and unavoidable. I know that there will not be found much of interest in the little reminiscence which I pro pose now to tell; but I have myself dwelt often upon it in my own mind, and now I am going to tell it and let it pass for what it is worth. In the days of my boyhood, when railroads in Georgia were none, wagon roads frequently in summer, always in winter, were bad, and tav erns were far apart, most persons residing upon the highways were accustomed to entertain strangers at night. I can well remember how inhospitable and even unkind it was considered to refuse to receive into the house a wayfaring man, unless it was not too late to reach by nightfall a place where such entertainment would be sure to be given. In order to prevent too-frequent impositions, the rule was to make a reasonable charge for expenses. My father never refused admittance except on occasions when a refusal was necessary and proper. I liked the coming of such travelers well. It was very entertaining to me, who had so few op portunities therefor, to see new faces and hear new voices. Especially was this the case when, as it almost always was, our guests v ere either going to Augusta or coming from it. Now, there was not a boy in Middle Georgia who did not regard Augusta as the queen of cities. I re member that as sublime an idea as I ever had when a small boy, difficult as it was to compre hend after much and long reflection, was that conveyed by a speech I had heard from some one who, in comparing Dukesborough with Au gusta, said that the latter was so large and the houses so thick that you c nil n’t see the town for the houses. I turned this over and over in my mind, and the less I could make of it, the greater grew in niv imagination the famous city; and when I at last came to know that it was not the largest city in the world, but that London, Pekin and even New York and Philadelphia, and perhaps some other cities were larger, I was mortified and humbled. Hut let such as all that go. Among those who occasionally stayed with us far in the nij !:t was a middle-aged man named Mr. White, lie professed to reside not far from the Savannah river, and to have a brother in good circums ;:nces in a county about three days’ journey west oi our home, and whom he visited about twice a year. Mr. White was poor and rheumatic. He rode a wretched horse that with much difficulty carried him and a pair of soiled, coarse cotton saddle-bags. Twice a year this man went on a visit to his brother, never failing to give us a call, both on going and returning. It was a wonder to me how so poor a man and I had been present at many of these partings, and was for some time confused in trying to un derstand the conduct of my father, whom I knew to be one of the most charitable of men. One more unhappy than ever before. What then, Mr. White?” He looked down upon me again, and I looked up to him. Then there were many tears in my morning I asked him if Mr. White had ever paid eyes; when he saw them, some came into his him anything for spending the night at our ’ own. house. “No, he never has.” “Do you think he ever will?” “ Never.” “ He is a very poor man, isn’t he ?” “Yes; very poor and very sickly.” I waited for some time, and then asked again: “ Father, why do you charge Mr. White for staying all night when he is so poor ? Do you want him to pay you when he comes again ?” Of course I don’t. " “You see, my-son, that although we must be kind to the poor, yet we must take some pains in learning how to be so. The gifts of some men to the poor make them better as well as happier. Those of others, while they may supply present wants, tend to make them evilly disposed, or in other ways add to their general sufferings. It is not everybody that knows even what charity is. Money, and very much money, is often given to the poor by persons who dislike even to think about them, and who, instead of visiting them [For The Sunny South.] A WEEK WITH THE SCIENTISTS. It was recently my rare privilege to attend the annual meeting of the National Academy of Sci ence, which was held at the Smithsonian Insti tute in this city. This is admitted to be the grandest body of scholars which adorns the an nals of American science and literature. The papers, which were read from day to day, were matured and exhaustive productions, and the discussions which they elicited were exceedingly instructive and brilliant. Prof. Joseph Henry, LL.D., who has no superior in the scientific He answered abruptly. After a moment he in their poverty and sicknesses, and comforting ' world to-day, is the President of the associa- looked at me, smiled and said: Come, let us take a walk.” them in their afflictions, send their money to ; them for the purpose of mainly buying themselves We went into the orchard, for it was the time off from the discharge of these duties. When of spring. “ Why did you ask me, Philemon, if I wanted Mr. White to pay me for his night’s lodging.” “Because you said he was a very poor man.” “Yes, I said he was very poor and very sickly; poor and sickly too. I said also that I never ex pected that he would pay me.” “Well, father, if he is poor and sickly, too, and you don’t expect ’’ I could not elaborate the idea that was on my mind. “You mean to sa\ r that if you were in my place, such a man as Mr. White might spend you grow older, you will see much of this sort of charity. But what I meant to teach you now is, that there is a difference among those who really intend to be kind. Some persons have another feeling for the poor besides pity. This feeling is delicacy. Delicacy ! Study that word; learn all that it means, and then try always to practice it. Let us go now and look for your mother!” We never saw Mr. White again. In six months we heard that he was dead. Not long afterwards a gentleman, in passing our house, left my father a wooden pipe, which the poor man had made [For The Sunny South.J FRIENDLESS. BY KOSA V. RALSTON. the night without paying anything for himself w ith his own hands, and which, upon his death or his horse ? Is that it ?” bed, he had requested should be sent to him. I answered that it was. ' No message accompanied the request. My father “Now, I see, my son. that I ought, before kept it carefully ever afterwards, this, to have explained to you my conduct to poor Mr. White. I am glad that you asked me about it. I don’t want Mr. White to pay me. For several years he has been coming by here twice a year, and spending a night with us. He always asks for his bill, and I always say it is a dollar. He never pays, and I never wish him to pay. He always promises to pay, and proba bly he believes that he will be able to pay the next time he comes. At least, he hopes so. Now, this hope that he will be less poor some day than he is now, and has been ever since I knew him, is a great thing for poor Mr. White. But for this, sickly as he has long been, I think he might have died before now. But that hope makes him feel that he is able to get upon his horse and travel about like other persons; and Not one half the meaning of that word is ever comprehended by the mass of people. It is only to those who have had experience in that unfortunate state, that the bare mention of such a thing carries its terrors. Ah ! it must be a sad thing indeed for one to realize that though surrounded by such vast numbers in this spa cious world, there is not one whom we may tion, and Professor J. E. Hilgard, of national reputation, is the Secretary. There were pres ent the following members of the society: From Yale College, Professors Elias Loomis, 0. P. Marsh, and B. Silliman; Dr. J. H. Trum bull, of Hartford; President Barnard, of Colum bia College, New York; Professor J. S. Newberry, New York; Professor A. M. Mayer, Stevens' In stitute of Technology, Hoboken; Professor A. Guyot, of Princeton College; Dr. John L. L. Coate, of Philadelphia; Professor J. P. Lesley, director of the second geological survey of Penn sylvania; Professor George H. Hill, astronomer, Nyack turnpike; Washington members—Profes sors Henry, Baird, Hilgard, Newcomb, Gill, Schott, Fewell, Lane, Hayward and Dr Wood ward, U. S. A. The first subject considered was the “ Results derived from an examination of the United States weather maps for 1872- 74,” by Professor Loomis. He explained graphically on the blackboard the courses of storms, temperature, etc., which was well received by his hearers. Professor Hilgard expressed himself as being much pleased with the explanations, particularly that portion which related to the temperature. Professor Guyot, J. P. Lesley and Professor Henry’ made brief remarks on the subject. The latter claimed, in regard to the temperature, that a change must take place during a current from all directions. A current from the north, ming ling with that from the south, might give a colder temperature. He spoke in the highest terms of the investigations made by Professor Loomis, and thought the whole subject was one of great importance. The Smithsonian Institution is busily working ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. “Countess” (Atlanta) says: “Several have been disputing as to whether Mary, Queen of Scots, had dark hair and dark eyes or light hair and light eyes. Please tell us in the next issue of The Sunny South if you possibly can. ” . . . We believe most if not all the accounts represent her as a beautiful blonde. regard as a friend—no one to whom we may you see he actually does so. And the getting off ; re sort in times of adversity no one to whom we i out the results of the twenty years investigation may feel perfectly free to confide the dearest secret of our hearts, and expect sympathy in the sometimes from his poor horse, and taking exer cise, and seeing new things, benefit his health and do him good in other ways, and make him feel that, poor and sickly’ as he is, he is not near so bad off in those ways as some other persons. Don’t you see what a great thing such a hope is to poor Mr. White ?” I thought I did, and said so. “Well,” continued my father, “nobody ought to take it from him if it can be avoided.’ Now, if you had a house of your own, and Mr. White were to come to y’ou, and after spending the night, ask you, upon leaving next day’, your bill, you would answer—nothing. Is that so ? Yes. Well, now, don’t you see that such an answer as that would show Mr. White that you noticed how poor and sickly he was, and that you had no idea but that he would be poor and sickly as long as he lived? In that case, such a noticing of his poverty and weakness might hurt this hope of Mr. White and make it weaker. I do not say that it certainly would, but that it might. This is what we must not do if we can help it, and at the same time not be guilty of deceit or falsehood. I never say to Mr. White that I think he will ever be any other sort of a man than a poor one; that would be wrong, because it would be false. But as I know he hopes and even ex pects to be in a better way some time, and as this hope, in my opinion, does him more good than harm (if any harm at all), and as I cannot say what Providence, who gives and who takes away, may not give to him before he dies, I sim ply try to show him, when he is with me, that I have as much respect for his feelings as I have for the feelings of any other man who comes to of the subject, which will soon be ready fpr pub lication. On the secon,d day of the session, President trials and sorrows of life. Noiselessly we move ! Barnard read a most scholarly paper on the sub- along the broad arena of the world, taking but j e °t embraced in the following resolutions which little part in the busy scenes and hum-drum of the clamorous concourse. Why should we ! No one takes any interest in what we do or say. Wherever we go, if noticed at all, it is only to hear taunting reproaches flung at us, and our “ leaden, downcast looks ” are made objects of derision and scorn by those who little divine the real cause of the sorrow to which that care-worn visage is but too faithful an index. It is there fore with an aching heart that we witness the exuberant affections and joyful greetings of others—not that we would deprive them of one ray of the sunshine that goes to make up their happiness, for we are not disposed to pine at their joy, but merely to deplore our own misfor tune. he submitted: Besolved, That in the opinion of the National Academy of Science, an international bureau of weights and measures is an instrumentality practically indispensable for the. complete and satisfactory accomplishment of the important objects for which the international commission of 1870 and 1872 was convened, viz: the perpet uation unaltered forever of the basis units of the metric system of weights and measures; the con struction, verification and distribution to the different nations of authenticated copies of the prototype standards representing those units; the recomparison of such copies hereafter; the construction and verification of new copies for the uses of scientific bodies, and of other organ izations and individuals engaged in the conduct Yet how many of us may feel perfectly secure j G f important public works, or in the grand oper in the pledges of those whom we designate by the common appellation of friends ? How many are there who, if their masks were thrown aside, would not be found our deadliest enemies ? If all mercenary motives were excluded from their protestations, how many would there be who would say, as did Peter, “I never knew this man,” or woman, as the case may be ? It was Young who said— “ A friend is worth all hazards we can run;” and then quotes the couplet: " Poor is the friendless master of a world; ations of international commerce; and finally for the preservation and proper care of the valu able apparatus and instruments employed in such constructions and comparisons. Besolved, That it is eminently desirable that our country should participate in the honor of maintaining any institution destined hereafter to exercise an influence so beneficial to the material interests of the human race by securing that exactness in the determination of qualities which is so essential to the success of human calculations, and that precision in the results of scientific investigation, without which pro- A world in purchase for a friend is gain;”— ___ my house, and while there behaves himself w hich shows that the poet was alive to the fact j gress beyond a certain rudely defined limit is right. And I tell you that I do respect him as 1 the existence of true friendship is exceed- impossible, and that the President of the United ingly rare. But these purchased friends are the most numerous, and alu’ays the least reliable. A lack of friends commonly follows adversity. Never sacrifice truth and honesty for the brittle ties of friendship. Better to live and die friend less than to know that you had compromised your honor for those who w’ould have deserted you when denounced by the world, and w’hen their aid w’as most needed. much as any other man who is no better than he is, though he may be richer or greater, When he is about to go away, and asks me for his bill, I answer him exactly as I answer other men. With a man like him, this is the best way in which I can show him that I do respect him. He does not pay the bill, but he probably ex pects to pay it before he dies. He sees that I am satisfied by his promise, and no doubt that makes him feel a little better and stronger—a little better and stronger, sir. Do you see, sir? Do you see?” and he laid his hand heavily but fondly upon my shoulder. I was pleased, and supposed that the subject would now be dismissed. We passed in among the fruit trees, he occasionally subduing a redun dant twig or placing a prop to one that the north winds had bent. After some time, he turned suddenly upon me and said: “Philemon, suppose you were poor Mr. White. ” I shuddered. “Yes, suppose you were a poor, sickly man named Mr. White. And then suppose you were to be traveling along, like this one, in order to visit a brother who was much better to do than you were,—for I tell you none are so proud of having wealthy relations as the very poorest. It makes little matter how they are treated by them. In this case, I suppose that the rich man treats his brother shabbily, because I always notice that he is more sad on the return than on the going. Still, I have no right to judge any man. But suppose you were just this man, and then suppose you hoped that some day you might be in as good condition as your worthy brother, or at least in better fortune than now. Well, you stopped for the night at the house of a gentleman, and the next morning, you asked for your bill. Suppose he were to say to you, ‘Mr. White, you need not pay me anything; I know from your very looks that you are too poor to pay me. [For The Sunny South.] MESSAGE OF LOVE TO SOUTHERN MASONS. About a year after the surrender of the Con. ! federate armies, I found myself wandering in ! one of the Northern States, on a matter of busi- | ness. Having stopped for the night in a town j of a few thousand inhabitants, I was feeling quite lonely among strangers, to whom my gray < clothes betrayed my “rebel” character, when a messenger arrived, inviting me to attend a 1 special meeting of the lodge, called to extend to j me a fraternal greeting. Of course I went, and being called upon to j give an account of Southern Masons, I did so, j and heard in return the state of Northern Ma- , sonrv. After some time spent in pleasant fra ternal work and intercourse, the Master re- . quested me to bear from Northern Masons a ' message of love to Southern Masons: “That not withstanding the war between the States, in which they were arrayed in arms against their brethren of the mystic tie—notwithstanding all the ravings of fanaticism, all the influences of States be accordingly respectfully solicited to ratify the assent which is understood to have been provisionally by his diplomatic represent ative in Paris to the creation of such bureau, and to recommend to Congress to make the nec essary provisions to defray such portion of the expense attending its maintainance as may fall to our share. ftesolved, That a copy of these resolutions, au thenticated by the signature of the proper offi cers of the academy, be forwarded to the Presi dent of the United States. Action on the report was held over. The next paper submitted was by Professor Guyot, “ Orography of the Catskill Group of Mountains.” These were explained by drawings, which were gotten up in masterly style. The Slide Mountains, Strong Clove, Mink Hollow, Schohazar, Esopus, Platelkill and Canterskill j ; creeks were plainly shown and explained. Professor Newcomb of the National Observa tory submitted an article on the Transit of Venus which showed him to be a man of close discrimination and extensive research. On the last day of the meeting the first paper “ Alfalfa” (White Plains) says: “If a gentle man is walking with a young lady and her shoe comes untied, would there be anv impropriety if she asked you to tie it or in your asking her to let you tie it ?” . . . Either would be exceed- ingly improper. The young lady who could see no impropriety in your tieing her shoe would not see any in allowing you to tie or buckle i.er garter. Should she ask you to tie either, you should positively decline, and thus give her a lesson in politeness and good-breeding. O. _D. S. asks: “Do you think it objectionable for girls to stand at the front gate and converse with young gentlemen who are taking their evening walk ?” . . . If the meeting at the gate should be accidental, there would be no impro priety in it; but to meet there purposely for a chat, and with an understanding to that effect, would be imprudent, and lay young ladies liable “to be talked about.” They cannot be too par ticular, for critics’ evil eyes are ever on them, and very slight things have often done great in jury to female character. “Daisy Dean” (Ellaville) asks: “Who is ‘Carl Crisp,’ that wrote the piece, ‘Money vs. Love; or, In Love With a Married Woman ?’ Has he ceased writing for your paper ? And if so, can’t you induce him to write again ? I like his writing splendid. Don’t you think he has loved a married woman himself? I hate to think so, ' for I am half in love with Carl, and mean to tell him so if I can find out his name.” . . . Carl | Crisp is a promising young lawyer of Southwest 1 Georgia, and we shall doubtless publish another 1 story from him before a great while. “ Alexis” (Warrenton) says: “Is it etiquette for a young lady to go to church with a gentle man vailed — that is, when she is beautiful and charming and the weather exceedingly pleasant?” . . . We think that should be left optional with the young lady. As wearihg the vail over the face is fashionable, it is no breach of etiquette for her to wear it to church. But we rather incline to the opinion that if she is pretty she should not wear it unless it be very thin; but if she is ugly, she should wear it by all means, and a very thick one. “Old Sock” (Bamburg, S. C.) says: “I am in love with a girl about seventeen years of age, and a perfect beauty she is, too, but have not told her of my love, for I have been afraid to for fear of having my apple-cart turned over and spoil the whole concern. I have hinted it to her several times, but I am afraid she concluded it was too thin. Now, I want to know how to gain her affections.” . . . Easiest thing in the world. By sincere devotion and an earnest avowal of the tender emotions, it is a very easy matter to make a young woman think seriously, and if she comes to the conclusion that you are worthy, she will be very slow to upset the apple-cart. Rena Fay (Macon) asks: “Can you tell me why some people always manage to ‘ get out of mischief’ as fast as they get in it? Two of my friends, Willie G and Maud F , of the Wesleyan Female College, always manage to have fun, and yet are never detected by Dr. Bass.” . . . Perhaps Willie and Maud are too sharp for the Doctor. It is very difficult to catch smart mice, and mischievous boys and girls are usually smarter than steel-traps. But after awhile they generally get trapped, for suc cess makes them bold and careless, and before they know it they are in limbo and up a tree. Willie and Maud must look out, for the Doctor is also smart, and he will have them soon. P. J. (Newnan) says: “I am just sweet sixteen and am engaged to a young man two years my senior. He vows that he loves me devotedly, but I think it is all on the surface, for he has been visiting and showing marked attention to another for three long months. Shall I release him, or shall I wait and see what he will do next ? I come to j*>u for advice, and hope you will give it, as I am in a most distressing state of mind.”. . . Preserve your dignity and guard your young heart with a jealous care. If he is not in earnest, it is better for you to know it now than later in life. Make no exhibition of any affection for him, but as you say, wait and see what he will do next. You are young, and if he loves the other one best, you can stand it. He is doubtless a wicked flirt, and if so, is un worthy of your love. L. B. O. (Loachapoka, Alabama,) says: “Please inform us, through your column of ‘Answers to Correspondents,’ who Mrs. M. E. Bryan is. Where is Mrs. M. J. Westmoreland?—and why don’t she have something to say in The Sunny South? How is the title of W. D. Trammell’s novel, ‘ Ca Ira,’pronounced?” . . . Mrs. Bryan is a daughter of Major John D. Edwards, of ! Florida. Since the war, she has been residing ! in Louisiana, but is now, we hope, a permanent j citizen of Atlanta. Mrs. Westmoreland is in this ! city, and for several months has been confined } to her room by severe inflammatory rheumatism. She had intended to write something occasion- read was, “Researches in Solar Physics, made at ; ally for The Sunny South, but her health has party, and all the fraternal blood that had been shed’, no coldness had touched the hearts of j with well-prepared drawings and plates from Northern Ylasons. Thev felt as brethren still.” work prepared from the Geological Survey so poor a horse could travel over so many miles j A°u cannot pay me now. You are too sickly in the year. “Yonder comes poor Mr. White,’ I and the little negroes used to say when we to work, and of course you will never be able to get the money to pay hereafter; therefore you would see him ri.ling slowly up the grove to- ; ^ ee< ^ n °tf*sk what your bill is. It is nothing. wards the gate. It was long since he had ceased asking permission to stay. After dismounting at the block, and hitching the bridle over the horse-shoe on one of the oaks, he would walk into the house, and after merely bidding good evening in a low voice, take his seat. Mr. White was so uninteresting a guest that we could seldom get a word from him. He I never charge such men as you anything. I thank God that I am not a poor man myself, and that I am in good health. Therefore, make your self easy about the bill, Mr. White. You are welcome to come always to my house, when you are traveling this way:—that is, if you think you can ever make the trip again: and you shall find food and lodging for yourself and your horse. we couia seiaom get a worn irom mm. ne | ,—7 e—o - . j ““—— j said little even upon his own infirmities, a sub- j ,t sa > anything about the bill, because ject about which I have frequently observed that ; can * it, and I don t want it from you. in Lie AnmlJtinn nrd flnpnt in liiscmiTfip HOW WOUld SUCh I was charged to disabuse Southern Masons of false impressions, and as I had seen and heard, I should teach my brethren at home to know the real state of sincere frat unity felt by them. Not satisfied with this, all unsolicited and un expectedly, as I was taking the train to return, a committee met me and bade me farewell, with re grets at parting; made me take a complimentary ticket over their railroad to the city, and a sum of money’ to buy’ a memento of my visit to their lodge, i refused both in vain; I was compelled to accept, or offend those kind stranger friends. As the smile of love most adorns the face of a maiden, so doth the smile of universal benevo lence beautify the countenance of Masonry, the handmaiden of Religion. Hiram. persons in his condition are fluent in discourse, even with strangers. He usually sat for an hour after supper, listening with vague interest to our conversations among ourselves, and then, but never until a suggestion thereto had been made by one or the other of my parents, retired to bed. On the m*rning when Ylr. White was about to leave and proceed on his journey, the following dialogue invariably passed between him and my father: Mr. White.—“ What is mv bill?” Father.—“One dollar.” Mr. White.—“I will pay you when I come again.” Father.—“That will do just as well. I can wait." Mr. White.—“Well, a good mornin’ to you.” Fbiher.—“Good morning, Mr. White.” Thev shook hands, a ceremony he never used with my mother and myself. He nodded his head to us, went out and rode slowly away. Mr. White.' as that sound in vour ears, He looked down at toe. and I looked up at him. He noticed the indignation I felt and smiled. He continued: “ But suppose the good man of the house were not so rude as all that. Suppose he were to say nothing about your poverty and your bad health, but you could see that hie noticed both—your torn and soiled clothes, your stiff and pained limbs; and this, together with his silent refusal to make any charge against you, made you lose a part of your hoped-for better times because you saw that he believed the hope to be a vain one, and you knew that the reason why he made no charge was because of your poverty; and when you promised to pay him hereafter, you should be made to feel, by his looks, that he not only did not believe that you would ever do so, but did not think you would ever be able to come 1 back any more; and then you had to mount Didn't Want Her Found.—A resident of Beau- bien street called at the Central Station the other day to relate the fact that his wife had run away. “Well, we’ll try and arrest her,” replied the ser geant, after hearing the particulars of the case. “That wasn't what I came for!” said the man, with a disappointed look. “I want to have the detectives keep her on the run.” the Alleghany Observatory during the past five years, ” by S. P. Langly. Professor Henry expressed himself as highly gratified with the explanation of the subject, and that it was one in which he was deeply in terested. Professor Langly deserved the high est commendation, of the academy and of the country. The next paper was on the relations of “ Some of our Ancient Fossil Fishes to Living Forms,” by J. S. Newberry. Professor Newberry demonstrated his subject the of Ohio. He showed that in America there have been discovered peculiar forms of fishes, the same as found in other countries. Dr. Gill made a few remarks on the subject. He, together with Professor Newberry, certainly explained their subject to their own satisfaction, but from the looks and uneasiness of the audi ence they’ could not get the big words used by the learned professors through their brains. It was no wonder that such species of fish as din- ichthys, lepidosiren, ceratodus and depterus are nearly extinct, and but few of them were in this country. Professor Newberry took another tack, and tried his best to get ahead of Dr. Gill, and he threw out his knowledge of the cockocksteo dor- semedina plate in the most successful manner. not permitted her to do so. “Calra" is pro nounced as if spelled sa era, giving the a in sa the same sound as in father. J. L. B. (Sandhill) says: “I have formally paid my respects to a certain young lady’ of my’ acquaintance, whom I love with all my heart, and the last time I met her, which was New Year’s day, I spoke words to that effect, and she only told me she esteemed me as highly as any’ gentleman of her acqaintance. But that did not give me satisfaction, and now I want to call on her again. Knowing as I do that you are well posted on such questions, I want your ad vice as to how I shall proceed:” . . . When a lady tells a young gentleman that she esteems him as highly as any gentleman of her acquaint ance, she expresses herself in very strong lan guage, and he should not press her for any stronger terms. He is assured of the fact that he has at least an equal chance with all others to gain her affections, and he has only to be in earnest and show himself worthy. “Puella” (La Grange) writes: “A gentleman nearly double my age has been a constant visitor at our house several years. We are friends— good friends. He sometimes accompanies me to church and other places. He tells me often that he never expects to marry. Now, it is ru mored that he and I are to be married and gen erally believed. I am quite tired of this report. The next paper was read by Mr. Wm. McMur- . I f e: ‘r it is injuring my prospects otherwise; but trie, of the Agricultural Department, on “ The as this gentleman is a staunch friend to my par- influence of Arsenical Compounds on Yegeta- tion.” On invitation of the President of the academy, ents, and has ever been from my childhood, I feel a delicacy in refusing to go with him. At the same time, I am anxious to have this rumor “Listen !” said a sensitive bather to a bathing attendant. “If I am to be drowned, or nearly so, I want it to be distinctly understood that I am not to be stood on my head or rolled on a barrel, or any such ridiculous exhibitions made of me. If I can't be revived without any of those performances, I prefer to be left alone.” Professor Shelden J. Coffin, of the Lafayette hushed. Now, tell me what to do. Go with him College, Pa., read a communication, numerously and hear this rumor, or refuse and risk losing illustrated by charts, in reference to the “Winds his friendship r” . . . Your trouble is perhaps of the Globe,” the posthumous production of his the most serious of any yet laid before us, and member of the are really at a loss to determine as to the best course for you to pursue. Your situation is a father, Dr. James H. Coffin, society, lately deceased. _ _ _ Professor Wo Ok off made remarks on Professor delicate one. If you go with him, they say you lomis' paper on temperature, published in the are engaged; and if you refuse to go, you lose Loomis x ^ , . American Journal gf Science, after which the acad- his friendship, eroy adjourned until next November. Now, the gentleman himself should understand the dilemma you are in, and A married man residing on Madison avenue was roused from his sleep the other night by fancying that there was a brass band operating in his bed-room; but upon investigation, it was your poor horse and go away feeling poorer and I found that his wife had blessed him with twins. The officers of the academy are: President, - it argues a want of sagacity on his part not to Professor Joseph Henry, Smithsonian Institu- have seen it long since. Your better plan will be retary, F. A. P. Barnard, President of Columbia College, New York. As “he never intends to marry,” he could not’ take exceptions to this course on your part.