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•TOII\ H. SEALS. - Editor and Proprietor. MRS. MARY E. BRYAN (*) A**ocl»te Editor. ATLANTA, GA., SATURDAY, SEPT. 18, 1875. The money must accompany all orders for this paper, and it will be diseontinned at the expiration of thegtime, unless renewed. Write your name and post-office plainly. The Richmond Office of The Sunny South is at No. 3 South Twelfth street. R. G. Agee. Esq., a most reliable and courteous gentleman, is in full charge and duly authorized to transact any business connected with the paper. Club Hate*.—Clubs of 4 and upv/ard* can receive the paper at $2.50 each. For a Club of .i at $3.00 each, or a Club of 10 at $‘4.50, we will send an extra copy one year, free. THE Sunny South a Weekly. BRILLIANT ANNOUNCEMENTS. The next number of this paper, which will bear date October 2, will be the first of our weekly issues. It will thereafter go out ever}’ Saturday to carry sunshine and happiness into the homes of its thousands of friends. See the array of intensely interesting stories soon to begin. WRITTEN IN BLOOD; OR,— T II E 31 / I) XI (i II T r L E /> G E. A Story of tlic La«t Napoleon's Reign. 1 By M. Quad, of the Michigan Press. — _ _ FIGHTING AGAINST FATE; —OK,— ALONE IN THE M OULD. By Maby E. Bryan. EDITH H A W THORNE; The Temptation* of a Factor}/ Girl. By One of the Most Popular and Brilliant Writers of the Age. RILLA ROS COE; NORTH —OR,— AND SOUTH. A Thrilling National Konm nee—Based Upon tlie Execution of Mr.. Surratt, in lHfifl. By an Old Politician. THE ( ONFEDERATE GOVERXMENT. l’n written History of its Secret Civil Service. By Col. H. D. Capers, the First Private Sec retary of Mr. Memminger. THE MYSTERY OF CEDAR BAY. By Mary E. Bryan. She will revise and republish this intensely exciting story. Applications for Agencies.—Every applicant for an agency for this paper must he strongly endorsed by responsible parties. We want only good men and women to represent the paper, and would he glad to secure one such in ever}’ community. Special Instructions to Contributors.—Always put your name and post-olfice on your MSS. When the private letter accompanying it is mis placed, we cannot tell whose MSS. it is. Fold your MSS. carefully and put it in a large envelope. Never roll it. Pay full postage on let ters and MSS. The Engraving of Hon. John H. James.— Having been frequently applied to by publish ers for the engraving of Mr. James which ap peared in this paper, we beg to say that it has passed out of our hands, and when last seen, was in a bad condition. The sketch which accompanied it in The Sunny South has been extensively copied in the Georgia papers, and we are authorized to say to any which have not published it, that if they Charles Lamb and Pink Stockings. — The new Cinque Mars sandal is a very high-heeled slipper with four sandals across the instep, trimmed wjth jeweled buckles and handsome lace. The new square box-toed gaiters and slip pers are many of them of black and colored satin, elaborately embroidered in gold, silver and pearls. So dainty are they that a modern lover might afford to follow the example of the illustrious William Pitt, who made a drinking- cup of his inamorata’s slipper. The sandal shoes are invented purposely to give pretty effect to the new stockings, which are also wonderfully embroidered and tinted in fairy-like shades of rose and ecru. We were shown a beautiful pair, whose color was called the “maiden’s blush,” immediately reminding us of Charles Lamb’s witticism (the best, so be declares, that be ever wrote for the London Star, when he was engaged to fill its columns at so much per joke'. Pink stockings were the rage then as now, and Elia, recalling the time, says: “But above all, that conceit arrided us most at the time, and still tickles ourmidriff to remem ber when, allusively to Astrea (ultima Or lest urn temis religuit), we pronounced, in reference to the pink stockings, that Modesty, taking her final leave of mortals, her last blush was visible in her ascent to the heavens by the track of the glowing instep. This,” he adds, “might be called the crowning conceit, and was esteemed very tolerable writing in those days.” At present, it would be thought rather far fetched, and not enjoyed so much as an actual joke which is related of a lady who sent her negro maid to the store in a hurry for a pair of flesh-colored stockings. Topsey brought back a pair jet black. They were the color of her own skin, and in her estimation the proper flesh color. Old Funny.—We pity the man who can feel no sympathy with the joys or griefs of children — who never unbends himself to share in their | plays and pastimes, and whose nerves are set ; on the ragged edge of irritation by their joyous ! shouts and ringing laughter. Our friend. Col. M—, is a stately, imposing- ■ looking personage, with manners at once digni- 1 fled and suave, as suits a gentleman and a scholar, j Unless you caught the kindly-merrv twinkle in \ I his eye, you would fail to suspect the child-like I I element in his nature. But one circumstance | ■ will tell the story. The unique “pet name” his ! pretty baby girl lias given bim is “Old Funny.” . When she spits bim coming afar off, from her perch at the window, she claps her dimpled hands and rejoices with all her might that j “Here comes Old Funny!” Then for kisses \ and romps, and lisping confidences of the joys j and troubles of the day. Germans understand the beauty, sweetness and wisdom which may be found in intercourse I with children. There is no country where par ents take so much time and pains to enter into ! the very heart and lives of their children. We | are told that “they make them acquainted very early with their plans, talk with them as to older | people, never go on an excursion or journey without them, and search everywhere for what ever will minister to their amusement and in struction. In no home could we sooner expect to find a father turning himself into a donkey, a horse, an elephant, or a barrel, on his parlor floor, for his children to bridle him, ride him, spur him, roll him over, or do with him what they please, than in a German one—and the clergyman as soon as any other. There are prob ably five juvenile household games in Germany to one anywhere else, and the parents exercise a wise discretion by having frequent entertain ments for their children, and providing every thing possible for the amusement of all, to make their home the most attractive spot on earth to the little ones. The child that asks a question is not met with a blunt answer, but with such a Public Thieves.—James Russell Lowell has lost his chance of being appointed Poet .Laure ate of the Court at Washington, or of being elected Centennial Poet at the coming national jubilee. He Las gone and “spoke out in meet ing ” concerning "the greatest government the sun ever shone upon,” and he does not mince matters in speaking, either. Mrs. Browning tells us that the poets are “God’s only truth- tellers;” we are sure that in this instance the poet tells the truth, and nothing but the truth — bitter and mortifying though it be. •JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL ON PUBLIC THIEVES. But now that “ Statesmanship ” is just a way To dodge the primal curse and make it pay; Since office means a kind of patent drill To force an entrance to the Nation's till. And peculation rather something less Risky than If you spelt it with an s; Sow that to steal by law is grown an art. Whom rogues the sires, the milder sons call smart, And “ slightly irregular" dilutes the shame Of what had once a somewhat blunter name; With generous curve we draw the moral line; Our swindlers are permitted to resign; Their guilt is wrapped in deferential names. And twenty sympathize for one that blames. Add national disgrace to private crime, Confront mankind with brazen front sublime; Steal but enough, the world is unsevere, Tweed is a statesman Fisk a financier; Invent a mine and be—the Lord knows what. Secure, at any rate, with what you've got. The public servant who has stolen or lied. If called on, may resign with honest pride. As unjust favor put him in, why doubt Disfavor as uujust has put him out ? Even if indicted, what is that but fudge To bim who counted-in the elective judge ? White-washed, he quits the politician's strife At ease in mind, with pockets filled for life; His lady glares with gems whose vulgar blaze The poor man by his heightened taxes pays, Himself content if one huge Kohinoor Bulge from a shirt-front ampler than before— But not too candid, lest it haply tend To rouse suspicion of the People's Friend. A public meeting, treated at his cost. Resolves him back more virtue than he lost; With character regilt, he counts his gains; What's gone was air, the solid good remains: For what is good except what friend and foe Seem both unanimous in thinking so— The stocks aud bonds which in our age of loans Replace the stupid Pagan's stocks aud stones ? With choker white, wherein no cynic eye Pares see idealizeiba lieuipeu tie, At parish meetings he conducts in prayer, And pays for missions—to be sent elsewhere; On ’Change respected, to his friends endeared, Add but a Sunday school class, he’s revered; Aud his too early tomb will not be dumb To point a moral for our youth to come. BIRTH AND DEATH OF WORLDS. A NIGHT WATCH I'PON' THE MOV N'T AIN'S - (Continued from So. lfi.l “ Wrapped in clouds of fire, yon have just said; and yet it would seem that Jupiter, far on the outside of the solar system, and so many millions of miles removed from the great sun- source of heat, would be a region of frost rather than of fire —a realm of perpetual cold.' - “You do not take into consideration Jupiter’s inherent heat,- which so far transcends that of the earth as its size exceeds that of our globe three hundred times. The telescope has shown you the great, fiery cloud-folds that enwrap the planet for a distance of thousands of miles, and change forever in shape and color, as if by the action of some force of wonderful energy and power. It is the same force which produces them—that of the planet's own inherent heat. The heat of the sun. were it as great there as upon our earth, could never raise -those.immense masses of boiling and wreathing vapor: and at the immense distance of Jupiter, the heat and life-giving power of the sun must be greatly less than upon our own planet. No; Jupiter is a world in formation—yet being forged amid fire and smoke by tlie hand of the Omnipotent Architect, while the earth is wearing out. So slowly has the birth of the mightier planet progressed, because of its gigantic size. Its successive stages will be proportionably prolonged. Ages shall elapse before it reaches a life-sustaining era, and this stage, when attained, shall last far longer than the corresponding one on our inferior planet. And, as time is a necessary element in the grad- ; ual evolution of the highest forms of conscious life, it is reasonable to infer that this mighty planet, with its long life-sustaining era, will •! produce beings of far nobler development than any we have seen, —beings that would appear gods compared with those the earth has yet pro- j duced, and demi-gods compared even with that higher development which our poor humanity , shall yet attain.” “Can you imagine these beings, Speranza?” i “Faintly. In my moments of inspiration, they j pass before me like ‘shadows of light,'—beings of grand mould and finer essence—full of strength and beauty, of quick and keen perception, com municating their thoughts by swift glances and subtle touches, rather than by the medium of j words. Material form shall clothe them lightly, ; and they shall walk as freely almost as spirits, having made the elements and physical forces their slaves and workers. Do yon not feel how our race has progressed and is still progressing, Miriam ?—how we have grown intellectually and spiritually ? Look back. The grandest spirits \ of . those old days were mere materialists; their best conceptions were of the earth, earthy—even Socrates, even Plato. And the poets ! where shall we find in them anything finer than graphic de scriptions of material objects and events, vivid ! portrayal of the grosser feelings and outwardly [For The Sunny South.] MARGARET FULLER OSSOLI. BY LUCY WALTON FLETCHER. Among the passengers who were wrecked in the ill-fated Elizabeth, off the Jersey coast, July 15, 1850, was the gifted woman whose name stands at the head of this article. A native of Cambridgeport, Massachusetts, as Margaret Fuller, she had won a High position among the literati of her own country, and was well known as an eloquent champion of Emer sonian transcendentalism. At fifteen, under the tuition of her father, she was studying Greek, French and Italian literature with Scottish met aphysics, writing a critical abstract at the close ; of each day’s lesson. By such a system of edu cation, her physical energies were weakened and her mental faculties unduly excited, and the unsatifactory experience of her after-life was no doubt attributable to the peculiarity of her early training. At twenty-two, stimulated by the review arti cles of Carlyle, she commenced the study of German literature, reading the works of Goethe. Schiller, Tieck, Xovalis and Richter, within a year. In 1835, the death of her father left her burdened with domestic care. Soon after, she became a teacher in Boston of Latin, French, German and Italian, reading with her pupils portions of Goethe. Schiller, Sersing, Tasso, Ariosto and Dante. A few years after, we find her in Boston, employing herself in a sort of lec tureship or series of conversations, in which German philosophy and lestlietic culture of the fine arts were made the topics of instruction. She published,'about this time, “Woman in the Nineteenth Century,” and several transla tions from the German, and was also engaged in editing a philosophical journal called The Dial. In 1844, she was employed as the literary editor of the New York Tribune, being probably the first lady employed in such a capacity on this continent. In the spring of 1846, she visited Europe, and soon after her arrival in Rome, she was married to the Marquis Ossoli, a young Italian noble man, and a devout Roman Catholic. Having identified themselves with the Liberals under Mazzini, upon the failure of that party they were obliged to fiee the country. Passing some time in Florence, they embarked on May 17, 1850, from Leghorn, and reached the coast of New Jersey on the fifteenth of July. The passengers made their arrangements for arriving in port next day, but a fearful storm arising that night, the vessel went down, and Margaret, with her husband and little child, perished in sight of the shore of her native land. Our limits will not allow more than this mea gre sketch of the outward life of this remarkable woman. Gifted, as she undoubtedly was, with extraordinary intellectual powers, which enabled her to reach an eminence in literature rarely at tained by her sex in this country, her experience is only another instance of the emptiness and in- apparent passions of mankind i W here shall we I sa ffj c ] encv 0 f me re triumphs of intellect to sat- hnd the delicate, spiritual meanings, the intro- , ibfy the 1( j n ,, in „ s of the h ‘. art While, at times. Editorial Huttings.— * The fashionable Bathers at Narragansett Bay j appear in rather unique costume. The ladies I wear short pants with striped stockings fastened j just above the knee, while the gentlemen look | voluptuous in “low neck and short sleeves.” i This is changing around bewilderinglv, but hardly more than one would expect after con templating tlie “tied-back” costume, which more than bints of an aspiration after trowsers. r Olive Logan doesn't give all her time to writ ing spicy letters to the Graphic, and taking moonlight promenades with Joaquin Miller. • She reserves enough to enable her to manage her very long trains with “skill and clever- verted perception, the subtle analysis, the sub lime aspirings of the modern mind ! Compare Horace with Sbellev, Homer with Tennyson, e erlence Ovid with Browning; compare Sappho, who { without pai could only rise on tlie fitful wing of passion, with Mrs. Browning, who soars free and high in the regions of pure thought and feeling." “ What of the painters and sculptors of that day? Modern art has hardly approached, never transcended, these ?” “ Not in the domain of form and color, per haps—the only domain in which their art wrought, or which it comprehended. That was the era of physical perfection, and its art-products were but apotheoses of form and color. The art of that era went little beyond these. It saw m t the spirit that molded the form —the light withi'n the vase. Modern art-creations excel the classic mod els in this. They are instinct with a beauty more subtle and potent than that of flesh and blood. The era of intellectual, or rather of spiritual, perfection is approaching. We are outgrowing our old shells of thought and forming for our- the subject of a very remarkable religious expe rience, it is far from being a genuine evangelical One cannot read of her struggles pain. At times the light failed utterly, and we hear the blasphemous cry, “I have but little faith in the paternal love I need, so ruth less, so negligent is the government of the earth.” Even after she lmd learned the lesson of submission and professed to have found peace, we have no word indicating conviction of sin, a faith in Christ. Although keenly appreciating all that is beau tiful in sentiment and action, her mind was rather masculine in its cool, deliberate work ings. Her forte was in characterization and criticism. The wonderful mastery of the chef (Tmares of Italian, French and Spanish litera ture had not made her “ deep learned in books and shallow in herself,” and while an earnest student in books, she was ever studying the minds and hearts of men in their writings. Gifted with a wonderful magnetic power of at- ness.” and safely engineer them through the selves new cells that we°shall eventually outgrow grelt^cUn th^devlJpment' o?’character and HP/% „ AM mi i* n air I v_i 11 cf»A vorDn tArpoc ai*o mnro onn u . . 1 . . dangerous mazes of the German. To manage a train gracefully is quite a difficult art, especially when, as in Olive Logan’s case, they are built by Worth a la peacock, and are several yards in length. t While soup houses and charitable societies are unable to keep starvation from the poor of our large cities, we hear of most extravagant outlays of money among the bondholding for tunate. For instance, there was a golden wed ding in Massachusetts, at which each guest was presented with a pair of forty dollar sleeve but tons. There were a hundred and fifty guests All our newly-discovered forces are more and more subtle,—steam, electricity, the odic fort e that we vaguely call “magnetism.” In the pro- { leading those with whom she was associated to a realization of the lesson which she so early learned, that “the only object in life was to grow." tress of time, men shall learn yet more fully to In con ; ersation , she was unequaled, and she reply—as pleasant aDtl instructive as the parent present. It is no wonder that there are com- knows how to give—as naturally promotes other 1 munistic societies in this country, where the inquiries and gives stimulus to the mind.” Women and Work,—A farmer’s wife of Illi nois gives the following summary of her “day’s work.” Bear in mind that it was no exceptional day’s labor, but the ordinary day-by-day rou- : tine: “She rose at half-past four in the morning, skimmed the milk, fed the chickens—has thirty- three young ones and one hundred and fifty eggs nearly ready to hatch—got breakfast, which was eaten at six. Her sister was to drop corn from the planter, and it was arranged that the wife ! should go to the field at ten, while the sister re- ,_ _ . , , .... , turned to the house to mind the baby. So the f L ewls has written a tragedy entitled Sap watch-word is equal division of property or— blood. „ Is the drama about to supersede the novel ? We are having an avalanche of new plays for the coming season, and many of last-year’s fifth-rate novels that were dreary failures are being dram atized by their authors, in the hope of finding some star that will roar them into the ears of the public, who refused to read them. Kate Field is coming back from Europe with a new play. “The Mighty Dollar” has j.ust been put upon the stage with moderate success, and Mrs. Es- wield mechanism,—to coerce steam, electricity and other undiscovered forces,—to make them slaves to their thought, and shift upon these the yoke of labor, that they themselves (freed from the bondage of manual toil) may reach upward and onward after higher truths—may give their larger leisure and freer thought to fuller indi vidual and social progress, and the growth of the subtle soul power, whose development shall make thin the wall that hides from us the great ocean of spiritual truth which throbs just outside our duller consciousness, and whose murmurs we catch faintly at times, thrilling the profound silences of our being. “ Mighty and marvelous truths shall dawn on the human consciousness, developing, as ages roll, truths that are • now’ wholly unknown, and others that are present with us now as shallows only, looking through mists of superstition, such as magnetism and spiritualism.” “You hold these to be truths?” “ No, they are shadows of truths—vague, dis torted caricaturing, as shadows are; but shadow proves substance, and these are ‘ cast before ’ a coming truth that shall be a mightier power than man lias known before: that shall annihil ate space, possess itself of the future as of the past, link mind with mind swiftly and silently as electricity connects matter, open up stores of wonderful knowledge and make man feel more assuredly his kinship to the Divine.” , | has been styled “the best talker since Madame j de Stael:” but her character was wanting in sym metry, and she knew nothing of that peace which j comes from an abiding trust in a loving Savior. An earnest devotee to German philosophy, she became the sibyl of American transcendentalism; but while giving herself up to visionary specu lations, and claiming to be, at times, the sub ject of wonderful “ illuminations,” she groped j in a region of shadows, and passed away in ig- [ norance of that knowledge without which “all is vanity and vexation of spirit.” [For The Sunny South.] “SUSIE.” baby was dressed, the dishes washed, the beds made, the floor mopped, the setting hens fed, chickens killed and prepared for dinner, cookies baked, the baby put to sleep, and the dinner ar ranged by ten o’clock, when the wife took the lunch and went to the field to relieve her sister, will do so. and forward a marked copy to this After dinner, there was the nsual routine work office, we will remit them ten dollars in money. Tin* Number of Masons in the World.—A correspondent writes us as follows from Peters burg, Virginia, correcting a paragraph which appeared in the last issue of The Sunny South. He says: to do, after which watering plants and other gar den work occupied her until three o’clock; then sh|e went to the field and dropped com until night. After supper, she milked, fed the chick ens, baked bread, ironed, sewed buttons on the husband's shirts, watered the house-plants, crimped the ruffles on baby's Sunday frock and the lace on her own best dress, besides other things not enumerated here—forgetting nothing pho,” which is highly praised by the critics. ‘*1 am aweary, aweary; he cometh not, she 9aid,” is the moan of the watering-place Mariannas this season. One of them, writing to the Home Jour nal, declares piteously: “We had a grand hop last Thursday evening; Parisian dresses and pretty faces in plenty, but no beaux. I think there were only three available masculines pres ent. Mr. Roessle, the son of the hotel proprie tor, did his duty manfully, dancing with the pretty girls as often as he dared, and smiling he- roicallv when he knew he must waltz with BOOK PAIIA GRA PUS. Theodore Tilton is writing a five-act tragedy of the “Graceous Hearings! ha! ha! ha!” order. Joaquin Miller is writing a centennial epic. There seems a determination to fill up the bloody chasm if trash and gas can do it. Martin Harris, who is the author of the Mor mon Bible, has just departed this life in Utah, at the advanced age of ninety two. The Marquis of Lome has in press a narrative poem of more than three thousand lines, called “Guido and Lita—A Tale of the Riviera.” It is “In your issue of the twenty-first instant, ap- that should have been done except patching a frigLt. But the atmosphere of the ball-room was founded on an incident in one of the many peared a paragraph to the effect that the number of Masonic lodges in the world is 8,000, with a membership of 500,000. With your permission, I will correct the paragraph alluded to, and fur nish you with an item which I doubt not will in terest your Masonic readers. I am myself a Knight Templar, and having devoted* much study to the subject of Masonry, can vouch for the correctness of the following, and, if desired, at some future day will enter more into details. The number of Masonic lodges in the world is 11,565, with a membership of 813,861, and dis tributed as follows: Europe, 2,150 lodges; number of members, 199,281. Asia and Africa, 119 lodges; number of members, 70,000. North and South America and adjacent islands, 9,069 lodges; number of members, 544,580. These figures are taken from the returns of the several Grand Lodges, and are consequently authentic. It is the curious logic of sin that its fruit should be no greater than its seed; but acorns swell to oaks, and grains to granaries full; and grains of sin grow harvests of the death that deathless spirits know. Jay. hole in a mitten Yet very probably the first time she asks her lord and master for a calico dresss, he will be forced to listen to the usual tirade about women’s extravagance, and to the stereotyped complaint of what a burden and drawback it is to a man to support a family. When a man marries a woman, he swears he is ready to die for her at any moment, and shortly afterwards, he refuses to make the fire or go to market, and allows the woman he was ready to die for. to work herself to death, when he could often lighten her burdens, or at least cheer her by kindness and appreciation. An exchange tells us of an Indiana husband who got a divorce from his wife and afterwards hired her for a cook. The woman wrote to her friends that she was delighted with the change, for now she had not only less work to do, but could have a little money to make herself decent without having to plead for it until she felt as mean as a sneak-thief. * realty so depressing that we might as well have been attending a first-class funeral.” Two prominent duels came off last week, one between a brace of editors, and the other be tween a couple of monkeys in the Jarden lies Plantes. The editorial encounter was a fizz, as usual, the knights of the quill and scissors being better at shedding ink than blood. Two mili- itary titles, a Colonel and a Major, chiefs respec tively of the St Louis Times and the Evening Journal, go into Illinois with the usual retinue of seconds, surgeons, etc., “to fight to the death.” Weapons—Colt’s navy pistols at twenty paces. One shot was exchanged, nobody hurt, and the two chivalrous gentlemen returned to St. Louis with their honor completely vindicated. The monkey duel was a more decided success. The two caricatures of man possessed themselves of knives and fought to the bitter end, one of them dropping dead and the other desperately wounded. * Saracen inroads which harassed the court of Provence. City Directory. —We are pleased to announce, ‘ at the request of W. R. Hanleiter, that he will publish, at an early day, a complete directory of I the city of Atlanta. Having heretofore published some three or four directories of this city, he is perfectly familiar with the business, and* will do the job correctly and satisfactorily to the public, j Mercer University. —We have received a ! beautifully printed catalogue of this worthy in stitution of learning, and it delights us to note its great success and growing popularity. Dur ing the past collegiate year, there were one hun- \ dred and fifty students in the college proper, and two hundred and forty-four in the high schools, the Mercer and Crawford. The faculty is composed of able and experienced educators, and no institution in the South, perhaps, offers greater facilities for acquiring a thorough colle giate education. “Well, neighbor Slummidge, how much shall I put you down for to get a chandelier for the church ? ” Neighbor S.—“Shoo ! what we want to get a ehandyleer for ? The’ hain't nobody kin play onter it when ye git it!” Children are to me the crown jewels of crea tion. God has perfected the earth with many rare and beautiful gifts—sunshine, flowers, birds, and the rippling of sweet-singing waters; but the patter of little footsteps, the cooing from coral red lips, the very breath through pearly gates ajar, is sweeter and dearer than any or all of these. Children nestle into my love as natu rally as light into the heart of a flower. I keep always a cluster to garland my life, and I name them for my favorite blossoms. I never fail to have a violet, a mignonette and a rose, and Susie was my white rose-bad. A fair and gentle girl, with pure complexion, soft, golden-brown hair, eyes luminous with thought and feeling, and a brow broad, white, and shapely with intellect, I could not help picturing her developing into a noble woman. But' God had wiser plans. Only a few brief hours of illness, and then, as if the angels could not wait, they came and carried her away. Very bitter were the tears that fell for our darling, worthy of our home and worthy of her flower emblem— for every memory of her is beau tiful—but worthier of a home on the shining shore, the beautiful city of our God. Not long before her death, she asked me to write her some verses for a school examination. I wrote them, but the lips that would have re cited them were stiffened by death; and so I ded icate them to all the other Susies throughout the land, hoping that there are others blossom ing as sweet as our rose-bud—not blighted, but gathered to garland a home where the light is the love of God. susie’s dilemma. Little girls Bhould be discreet— So grown people say; Never idle tales repeat. Mind their books and play. But when pretty Mrs. A , With her honeyed words. Comes in such a cooing way— Sweeter than a bird’s— Calls me darling, birdie, sweet; Then as if by chance, “What’s the news to-day, my pet?” With a searching glance), “Tell me, little golden locks— Eyes like violets blue.” First, I know I’ve told her all— What could Susie do ? We shall find, when the stones are carefully removed from our own paths, very little tempta tion to east any at other people; it is one whose way is stonv who becomes an expert slinger. Jay. Dew-drops at night are diamonds at morn: so tears we weep here may be pearls in heaven.