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[For The Sunny South.] WHICH WAV DID Y'OC GO! Upon a tombstone was written the following: “ Stranger, stop and read as you pass by; As you are now so once was I; As I am now so you must be; Thei afore prepare to follow me.” To which was added by some wit: “ To follow you I'll not consent Until I know which way you went: For goodness gracious who can tell Whether you went to heaven or hell ? So. by angels or devils do let us know Which road you really did go. If to heaven you have gone. We with joy will soon follow on, But if the curse you have got, To follow you we had better not. I'ntii that information yon can give. Upon tin earth we are still content to live. Such a free invitation will do very well When all chance is for heaven, and little of hell; But with the devil it's a very hot quarter We would need something more than one drop of water. The North pole and its cold, frozen region Should be a desirable physical consideration. So. friend, we thank you for the invitation given. But be sure, quite sure, we'll find you in heaven.” (From Lady Barker in “Evening Hours.”) Visit from a Kafir Princess. and she and her maiden retired to Maria’s room and equipped themselves, finding much diffi culty, however, in getting ,nto the bathing sui’s, and marveling much at the perplexing fashion in which white women made their clothes. The maid of honor was careful to hang her solitary decorations—two small, round bits of looking- glass—outside her skeleton suit of blue serge, and we found her an old woollen table-cover, which she arranged into graceful shawl-folds with one clever twist of her skinny little arm. Just as they turned to leave the room, Maria told me this damsel said, “Sow, ma’am, if we only had a little red earth to color our foreheads, and a few brass rings, we should look very nice;” but the princess rejoined, “ Whatever you do, don't ask for anything;” which I must say I thought very nice. So I led her back again to her watchful followers, who hailed her intellect ual appearance with loud shouts of delight. She then took her leave, with many simple and graceful protestations of gratitude; but I con fess it gave me a pang when she said, with a sigh, “Ah, if all Inkasa'casa were like you, and kind to us Kafir women !” I could not help thinking how little I had really done, and how much more we might all do. How a Cannon Misbehaved. How to Dress for Cold Weather. Dignified and self-possessed, without the slightest self-assumption or consciousness, with the walk of an empress and the smile of a child, such was Mayikali, a young widow about twenty years of age, whose husband—I can neither spell nor pronounce his name—had been chief of the Patili tribe, whose location is far away to the northwest of us, by Bushman’s river, right under the shadow of the great range of the Dra kensberg. This tribe came to grief in the late disturbances apropos of Langalibalelo, aD<! lost their cattle, and what Mr. Wemmick would call their portable property, in some unexplained j can be done by thick or light underc othing, in way. We evidently consider that it was what 1 — The New Century for Women, edited by women, takes a sensible view of the manner in which wo men and children should be clothed in cold weath er. That journal says: “Owing to the sudden changes of our climate, it is of the greatest im portance for Americans to protect the entire sur face of the body and limbs nine months out of the year. How we dress during the remaining three is of less importance than how we work and eat: but unless the skin is well and closely covered during the fall, winter and spring we cannot be free from the influence of sudden changes. This the Scotch call “our blame," for every year there is a grant of money trom our colonial ex chequer to buy this tribe plows and hoes, blan kets and mealies, and so forth; but whilst the crops are growing it is rather hard times, for them, and their pretty chieftainess occasionally comes down to Maritzburg to represent some particular case of suffering or hardship to their kind friend the Minister for Native Affairs, who is always the man they fly to for help in all their troubles. Poor girl, she is going through an obnoxious time, keeping the clanship open for her only son, a boy of five years old, whom she proudly speaks of as “Captain Lucas,” but whose real name is “Luke.” I was drinking my afternoon tea as usual in the verandah one cold Sunday afternoon lately, when Mayikali paid me this visit; so I had a good view of her as she walked up the drive, attended by her maid of honor (one of whose duties is to remove stones or other obstructions from her lady’s path), and closely followed by about a dozen elderly, grave, “ ringed ” men, who never leave her, and are, as it were, her body-guard. There was something very pretty and pathetic, to any one knowing how a Kafir woman is despised by her lords and masters, in the devotion and anxious care and respect which these tall warriors and counsellors paid to this gentle-eyed, pale-faced girl. Their pride and delight in my reception of her was the most touching thing in the world. I went to meet her as she walked at the head of her followers with her graceful carriage and queenly gait. She gave me her hand, smiling charmingly, and I led her up the verandah steps and placed her in a large arm-chair, and two or three gentlemen who chanced to be there raised their hats to her. The delight of her people at all this knew no , bounds: .their keen, dusky faces glowed with pride, and they raised their right hands in salu tation before sitting down on the edge of the verandah, all facing their mistress, and hardly taking their eyes off her for a moment. Maria came to interpret for us. which she did very prettily, smiling sweetly; but the great success of the affair came from the baby, who toddled round the corner, and seeing this brightly- draped figure in a big chair, threw up liis little hand and cried, “Bayete.” It was quite a happy thought, and was rapturouslp received by the indunas with loud shouts of "Inltose, inkose !” whilst even the princess looked pleased in her composed manner. I offered some tea, which she took without milk, managing her cup and saucer and even spoon as if she had been used to it all her life, though I confess to a slight feeling of nervousness, remembering the brittle nature of china as compared to calabashes or to Kafir wooden bowls. F gave each of her retinue a cigar, which they immediately crum pled up and took in the form of snuff with many grateful grunts of satisfaction. Now there is nothing in the world which palls so soon as compliments, and our conversation being chiefly of this nature, began to languish dreadfully. Maria had conveyed to the princess several times my pleasure in receiving her, and my hope that she and her people would get over this difficult time and prosper everlastingly. To this the princess had answered that her heart rejoiced at having had its on way and directed her up the hill which led to my house, and that even after she bad descended the path again it would eternally remember the white lady. This was indeed a figure of speech, for by dint of living in the verandah, rushing out after the children, and my generally gipsy habits, May ikali is not very much browner than I am. All this time the little maid of honor had set shiv ering close by, munching a large slice of cake, and staring with her big eyes at my English nurse. She now broke the silence by a fearfully distinct inquiry as to whether that other white woman was not a secondary or subsidiary wife ? This question set Maria off into such fits of laughter, and covered poor little Narma with so much confusisn, that as a diversion I brought forward my gifts to the princess, consisting of a large crystal cross and pair of ear-rings. The reason 1 gave her these ornaments was because I heard she had parted with everything of that sort she possessed in the world to relieve the distresses of her people. The cross hung upon I a bright riband which I tied round her throat, j All her followers sprung to their feet, waved their sticks, and cried, “Hail to the chieftain- ! ess !’’ But, alas ! there was a profi ssional beg gar attached to the party, who evidently consid ered the opportunity as too good to be lost, and drew Maria aside, suggesting that as that white lady was evidently enormously rich, and very j foolish, it would be as well to mention that the l princess had only skins of wild beasts to wear ■ (she had on a petticoat or kilt of lynx-skins, : and her shoulders were wrapped in a gay striped blanket, which fell in graceful folds nearly to her feet), and suffered horribly from the cold. I He added that there never was such a tiresome girl, for she never would ask for anything, and how was she to get it without? Besides which, if she had such a dislike to asking for herself, she surely might speak about things for them— ; an old coat now or a hat would be highly accept- | able to himself, and so would a little money. But Mayikali turned quite fiercely on him, or dering him to hold his tongue, and demanding if that was the way to receive kindness, to ask fir more? j The beggar’s remark, however, had the effect of drawing my attention to the princess’ scanty garb—I have said it was a bitterly cold evening— and to the maid of honor’s pronounced and in cessant shivering; so nurse and I went to our boxes and had a good hunt, returning with a warm ! knitted petticoat, a shawl and two sets of flannel bathing-dresses. One was perfectly new, of 1 crimson flannel, trimmed with a profusion of Mfywhite braid; of course this was for the princess; I silk, flannel, or woven wear; but in some form it is | necessary. This important precaution ought par- j ticularly to be remembered in dressing little [ children. Their clothing ought to meet in such a j way as to leave no chance of bare skin, forsacques and overshoes are mockeries if the knees are un covered. As for short stockings, they are simply traps for disease. They may be safe in July, but the chilly nights of autumn ought to warn all mothers to put them away. After the skin is cov ered the clothing may be light or heavy, as the wearer needs; but as a simple matter of comfort a complete suit of warm underwear and long stock ings do more for women and children in the way of protection from coughs and colds than all the furs.fl annels, and wraps they can possibly put on.” This view is enforced by medical authority. A distinguished physician of Paris says : “I beiieve that during the twenty years I have practiced my profession, twenty thousand children have been carried to the cemeteries, a sacrifice to the absurd custom of exposing their arms. Put the bulb of a thermometer into a baby’s mouth, and the mercu ry rises to ninety degrees. Now carry the same into its little hand; if the arm be bare and the evening cool, the mercury will sink to fifty degrees. Of course all the blood that flows through these arms must fall from the forty degrees below the temperature of the heart. Need Isay, when these currents of the blood flow back to the chest, the child’s vitality must be more or less compromised ? And need I add that we ought not to be surprised at the frequent recurring affections of the tongue, throat or stomach ? I have seen more than one child with habitual cough or hoarseness, entirely relieved by simply keeping the hands and arms warm.” Another authority asserts that three-fourt'ns of the internal congestions and inflammations com mon to the winter season, are caused by external chilling due to insufficiency of badly disposed clothing. Here are some very suggestive hints to moth ers, and they should not be lightly valued or neg lected. It is the great resource of fashion, as some one aptly remarks, to produce new effects by pil ing on the textures, now here, now there, and by leaviug other parts exposed. This must be avoided if the health of children is an object, as it should be with every mother. Much as has been said in denuucation of the practice, it is still common to see children in cool, even if not in cold weather, overloaded with clothes about the head and trunk, but with their arms and legs quite naked, or so thinly clad as to be of small service for retaining warmth. How little do those who have the charge of children seem to understand that these uncov ered, unguarded surfaces become the means of draining away the vital forces of the system, re ducing and perverting the organic processes, and laying the foundation for future feebleness, suf fering, and perhaps aggravated disease. Good madame, your family physician will tell you that it is the office of clothing to prevent the body, or perhaps more proper'y the skin, from losing its heat, and to protect it from atmospheric changes, for the effect of cold upon the skin is to send an increased volume of the blood inward upon the vital organs, gorging their vessels and disordering their functions. For the purpose of retaining warmth, apparel should be good in quality, suffi cient in quantity, and loosely worn. Clothing thus worn performs its protective office better— that is it is much warmer than that which fits the person closely. Women as well as children suf fer from the unequal distribution of clothing upon . A the body, one part being over-clothed and another hands ° f man behind him and fled to the " ’ . *• °. _ . ruor rn hnlrl tin hio rinuvh nnr H n irornr nni. Lady Barker, in her gossipy sketches of “Life in Kafir Land,” gives an amusing picture of the behavior of a cannon and a rocket apparatus in the hands of a body of military novices, who wished to terrify with these instruments some refractory natures on the border. The incident reminds us of somewhat similar displays of greenness among the “Home Guards,” and the fresh conscripts in “the days when we went— Confederating—a long time ago.” “ A little time ago, the dwellers in a certain small settlement, far away on the frontier, took alarm at the threatening attitude of their black neighbors. I need not go into the rights, or rather the wrongs, of the story here, but skip all preliminary details and start fair one fine morning when a ‘Commando’ was about to march. Now, a ‘Commando’ means a small ex pedition armed to the teeth, which sets forth to do as much retaliatory mischief as it can. It had occurred to the chiefs of this war-like force that a rocket apparatus would be a very fine thing, likely to strike awe into savage tribes, and so would a small light cannon. The neces sary funds were forthcoming, and some kind | friend in England sent them out a beautiful little rocket-tube, all complete, and the most ■ knowing and destructive of field-pieces. They I reached their destination in the very nick of time; the eve, in fact, of the departure of this j valiant ‘Commando.’ It was deemed advisable j to make a trial of these new weapons before ! starting, and an order was issued for the ‘Com mando ’ to assemble a little earlier in the mar- j ket square, and learn to handle their artillery | pieces before marching. Not only Mid the mili tia assemble, but all the townsfolk, men, women j and children, and clustered like bees round the I rocket-tube which had been placed near the powder magazine so as to be handy to the am munition. The first difficulty consisted in finding anybody who had ever seen' a cannon before; as for a rocket-tube, that was indeed a new invention. The most careful search only succeeded in producing a Boer, who had, many, many years ago, made a voyage in an old tea- ship which carried a couple of small guns for firing signals, etc. This valiant artillery-man was at once elected commander-in-chief of the rocket-tube and the little cannon, whilst every body stood by to see some smart practice. The tube was duly hung on its tripod, and the reluc tant fellow-passenger of the two old cannon pro ceeded to load and attempt to fire it. The load ing was comparatively easy; but the firing ! I only wish I understood the technical terms of rockets, but although they have been minutely explained to me half a dozen times, I don’t feel strong enough on the subject to venture to use them. The results were, that some connecting cord or other having been severed, contrary to the proper method generally pursued in letting off a rocket, half of the projectile took fire, could not escape from the tube on account of the other half blocking up the passage, and there was an awful internal commotion instead of an explosion. The tripod gyrated rapidly; the whizzing and fizzing became more pro nounced every moment. At last, with a whisk and a bang, out rushed the ill-treated and im prisoned rocket. But there was no clear space for it. It ricochetted among the trees, zig-zag ging here and there, opening out a lane for its elf with lighting speed among the terrified and flustered crowd. There seemed no end to the progress of that blazing stick. A wild cry arose of, ‘ The powder magazine!’ but before the stick could reach so far, it ‘ brought up all standing’ in a wagon, and made one final leap among the oxen, killing two of them, and break ing the leg of a third. “This was an unfortunate beginning for the new Captain, but he excus'ed’ hqmself on the ground that, after all, rockets were not guns— with those he was perfectly familiar, having smoked his pipe often and often on board the tea-ship long ago, with those two cannon full in view. Yet, the peaceablest cannon have a nasty trick of running back and treading on the toes of the by-standers, and to guard against such well-known habits, it would be advisable to plant the tail of this little fellow securely in the ground, so that he must per force keep steady. * Volunteers to the front with spades,’ was the cry, and a good-sized grave was made for the end of the gun, which was then lightly covered up with earth. There was now no fear of load ing him, and instead of one, two charges of powder were carefully rammed home, and two shells put in. There was some hitch, also, about applying the fuse to this weapon—fuses not having been known on board the tea-ship— but at last something was ignited, and out jumped one shell right into the middle of the market square, and buried itself in the ground. But, alas and alas ! the cannon now behaved in a wholly unexpected manner. It turned itself deliberately over on its back, with its muzzle pointing full among the groups of gaping Dutchmen in its rear; its wheels spun round at the rate of a thousand miles an hour, and a fearful growling and sputtering could be heard inside it. The recollection of the second shell now obtruded itself vividly on all minds, and caused a curious stampede among the specta tors. The fat Dutchmen looked as if they were playing some child’s game. One ran behind another, putting his hands on his shoulders, but no sooner did any person find himself the first of a file than he shook off the detaining THE WANDERING JEW. DORE’S ILLUSTRATIONS. BY SL B. A. Has any one of my readers ever seen Dore’s illustrations of scenes in the life of the Wander ing Jew? They consist of twelve wood-cut en gravings, in which the pilgrimage of this foot sore wander is most vividly depicted from the time the sentence is given to the second coming her greeting is stilted. If it is winter you must get behind the door, over that destroyer of all so ciability, the register, and there you sit like two wooden dolls, staring vacantly at each other. In summer it is even worse. It is too dark to see the pictures, so you can’t talk about them. There are no books, they are not good style: and verily, when my half-hour's penance is over and I rise, my bones fairly creak with the general stiffness. Now let us go and call at Cousin Lou’s. No m ringing of bells there with prolonged waiting. of the Son of Man. The first scene represents j ^ a N^ a P y°u will find the gate open, at least the Jesus on the way to Calvary, sinking beneath j ^ ront door ajar. not half. It is a rare thing to find a woman who has her shoulders and arms sufficiently covered to keep up a healthy circulation, while her feet will generally be encased in their shoes and light stockings. Women would greatly improve their health by paying more regard to comfort than fashion in the matter of clothing. The clothing of men is better suited to the rigors of our winters, and hence they suffer less from cold and its imme diate and remote effects than women and children. We hope our women will take the sensible view of this matter that their sisters of the Neic Century for Women have, and act accordingly. A “new departure” in this matter will be all the better for both women and children. There is a vast deal of human-nature in a little episode that occurred down in Southern Georgia rear to hold on to his neighbor. However ludi crous this may have looked, it was still very natural, with the muzzle of a half-loaded can non pointing full towards you, and one is thank ful to know that with such dangerous weapons ‘around,' no serious harm was done. If you could only see the fellow-countrymen of these brave heroes, you would appreciate the story | better; their wonderful diversity of height, | their equally marvelous diversity of breadth, | of garb, and equipment. One man will be over | six feet high—a giant in form and build— mounted on a splendid saddle, fresh from the store, spick and span in all details. His neigli- | bor in the ranks will be five feet nothing, and j an absolute circle as to shape; he will have ! rolled with difficulty on to the back of a gaunt | steed, and his horse-furniture will consist of : two old saddle-flags sewn together with a during the “late unpleasantness.” On the cars of strip of bullock hide, and with a sheep-skin the first train which had passed an encampment of Federal soldiers for some time, was a lady with a wide-a-wake, kicking, crowing baby in her arms. She was looking from a window, when Capt. Sto ry, of the 57th Infantry, took off his hat and bow ing to the lady, said: “Madam, I will give you five dollars if you will let me kiss that baby.” She replied with a pleasant laugh that she did not charge for kissing her baby and handed the little fellow over to the Captaiu. More than one kiss did the Captain get from the sweet red lips, when the cry was raised, "Pass him over here, Cap.” And before the train was ready to move, half a hundred soldiers had kissed the baby. Meantime, he crowed and kicked and tugged at the soldiers’ whiskers, as only a baby full of life can. It was an event of the campaign; and one giant of a moun taineer, who strode past his companions with a tread like that of a mammoth, but with tear- dimmed eyes and quivering lips, said, “By George, it makes me feel and act like a fool, but I’ve got one just like it at home 1” Need we won der that the baby in that man’s house is a “well- spring of joy? It is better to find out one of our own faults of j than ten of our neighbor’s.” True, but we are al ways more solicitous about the wellfare of our neighbors than ourselves. , thrown over all. You may imagine that a regi ment thus turned out would look somewhat droll to tbe eyes of a martinet in such matters, even without the addition of a cannon lying on its back kicking, or a twisting rocket sputtering and fizzing.” Mr. George Henry Lewes, the husband of “ George Eliot,” is a man of rather small stat ure, whose face gives no clear indication of the mental power he unquestionably possesses. His health is infirm, and he looks older than he is. He has always been a hard student, and a resi dent of London or other large capitals. His manner differs markedly from that of most En glishmen. In his own set he abounds in geni ality and bonhomie. He is fond of epigram and paradox, and, being a close observer, his narra tion of men and things is extremely entertain ing. He has the reputation of being one of the most brilliant conversationalists in London; though, like most clever talkers, he is prone to monopoly and monologue. Mr. and Mrs. Lewes live in a suburb of London, and their home is represented as being one of the happiest, the similarity of their pursuits and their ambitions being an additional bond of unity. Baraboo, Vis., advertises tor a clergyman who can instruct the well-disposed, and knock down and drag out disturbing sinners. the weight of the cross, followed by fierce and vengeful enemies—Scribes, Sadducees and Phar isees. whose demoniac countenances present a striking contrast to the mild and God-like'one of the Saviour. On his way he passes the house of Ahaseurus, and asks to stop for a moment’s rest. But the Jew rudely thrusts him away, and commands him to go on. Then the curse is pronounced, “I shall stop but thou shalt go on forever.” This sentence Ahaseurus, forced by an irresistible influence, forthwith proceeds to obey. Leaving his wife and children in Je rusalem, he thenceforth becomes a wanderer over the earth. Some of Dore’s pictures are weird and gro tesques, some replete with horror, while a few are tragically sublime. At one time the Jew is represented as wandering through the wildest scenes of nature, at another, over vast solitudes whose profound silence and desolation strike the beholder with a sense of weariness, often times of horror. Again, he is seen in the busy scenes of human life, where man struggles for supremacy or life. Now he has traveled from the time of his Lord’s crucifixion down to the Crusades in the middle ages. And here, amidst the scenes of deadly conflict, he passes unharmed over the ghastly and mangled corpses of knights that, clad in complete armor, bestrew the ground far and near. Again, he is represented as plung ing into the billowy foam of the storm-tossed ocean, where a shattered wreck is drifting help lessly on its pitiless bosom. The mariners are struggling against the angry waves, or clinging in despair to the splintered timbers of the ves sel; and as the eternal wanderer passes, they gi asp at his staff, crsireich out their long, biawny arms with a mute but imploring look of agony”. But Ahaseurus stops not to succor these implor ing wretches; he pursues without heeding his toilsome march through the angry clouds and the storm-ridden waves that dash at his feet. There is an irresistible Destiny forcing him on ward, ever onward in his wearisome, never end ing pilgrimage. It is the Demon of Fate ever urging him forward, and giving no hope of rest until his Lord again appears. In one scene this messenger stands in the background, and with lance in hand is thrusting the poor wanderer forward; in another, its fleecy figure is seen bearing aloft a sword, whose blade is partly hid by the tall peak of some rugged mountain the Jew is trying to ascend. Again, it is the image of his Lord reflected from the glassy bosom of a lake, or pictured in dim, shadowy outlines on the fleecy clouds of heaven, or amidst the sol emn and awe-inspiring twilight of an eastern moon. This myth doubtless originated during what is known as the middle ages of the world’s his tory. That period was characterized by vio lence, ignorance and superstition. The old Homan civilization had become corrupt and worn-out. All of its landmarks had been washed away by the resistless tide of barbarism, that had rolled over the mighty empire—an em pire that had stretched its dominion to the re motest regions of the globe, and made the power and majesty of the Homan name the one grand thought of the centuries. In this age, Catholi cism assumed its most ascetic form. There was little hope for the poor and oppressed save in the cloistered cells of the convent. Beyond its walls the monk saw only violence, rapine and oppression. The great feudatories were at war with their sovreign, and he calling in a foreign power to humble them and lay waste their es tates. It was no wonder, then, that many fled to the church for protection. Her sheltering arms were open to the oppressed of all classes. They were the refuge of disappointed ambition, of hopeless yet overloading revenge, and of the weariness and despair that spring from the eager yet fruitless pursuit of worldly pleasures and projects. Yet, despite this gloom and darkness, there were signs of the world’s redemption. The hopeless centuries had passed away forever. The human mind was beginning to wake from the lethargy in which for ages it had slumbered. The faint streaks of a higher civilization were already tinging the horizon, giving promise of its morning brightness in the coming century. These omens were discoverable in the church, and in knighthood more particularly than else where. The church, though grasping, powerful and ambitious, still taught, though she did not practice the lessons of probity, moderation and brotherly kindness. Knighthood, with its rougher features softened, had begun to realize that ideal of glory and heroism which had ren dered it venerable in the eyes of mankind. Then it was that the “chivalrous ideal ” and the religious ideal were blended, and the fruits of this union were the many wild and legendary tales with which that age was rife. But though incredulous and mythical, they were oftentimes symbols of high and noble truths—of all that was grandest and most beautiful and heroic in both systems. The symbolism of the “ Wan dering Jew” has been variously interpreted. Some suppose it is intended to represent the condition of the Jews, who since the days of Christ have been wanderers from the land of their fathers, and the outcasts of all nations. Others believe it symbolical of the Gypsies, who give as excuse for their roving, romantic life, the curse pronounced upon them by God for refusing to entertain the virgin and her Child during their sojourn in Egypt. A recent writer thinks it was meant to illustrate the awful con dition of those who reject Christ as their Savior, and thus incur the everlasting displeasure of a just and holy God. If summer, the little door-yard is scattered round with easy-chairs, hats, books—evidences, everywhere, that live human beings dwell there about. A voice from somewhere bids you “run right in.” The piano is standing criss-cross, where it was left from the last impromptu concert; never twice in the same place, sometimes hither, sometimes yonder. Easy-chairs everywhere, some of them handsome as any at the Dennisons’ others battered and homely, but still easy-chairs. Chairs from every room in the house congregate here: from up-stairs, down-stairs, and from “my lady’s chamber. Every frequenter of tiie house have their favorite, and special privilege to get it wliere- ever they can find it. A glorious old divan, with big square pillows, in place of the regulation sofa. Books abound. A set of lovely carved shelves, with crimson lambrequin, loaded with delightful old friends, hangs within easy reach of the lounger on the divan, and there always is one. Papers tossed down wherever read. The curtains go flit, ting in and out the windows in frolic. The very pictures on the wall look as if they knew some- thing, and sometimes forgot their stereotyped smile. The little Italian fisher boy in the corner hangs slightly awry, and looks all atilt with fun and jollity. Ferns and flowers are peeping out here and there. Some one comes in from the garden with fruit, and you pick out the ripest and eat ’em then and there, with your fingers. And no one ever thinks of talking of the weather, or how they feel, or any of those cut-and-dried little platitudes. Why, you have so much to talk about that is really interesting, that you don’t really know that there is any such thing as weather. Ever; one talks, and the conversation is so general that you never feel as if you were “speaking out in meeting,” every lime you make an observation. The idea of a room full of people sitting round, two and two, talking in a gentle little monotone, just as if they had to, is perfectly appalling to other people, who haven’t any fixed ideas, and don’t happen to be talking to the people they want to. I have fairly ached sometimes, at the Deni son’s, to get up and scream, or fall in a fit, or do something awful—anything to break the dead mo notony. But at Lou’s you stay, and talk, and moon. Lou goes in and out, and, mayhap, before you know what you are about, you are having an impromptu lunch on the grass, under the trees. Perhaps two or three unexpected guests enjoy “the feast of reason and flow of soul.” Lou says witn cheerful air, “Girls, you have devoured every roll, and you must e’en content yourselves with crackers and sponge-cake.” Why, the Dennisons would have occupied days of anxious preparation over that lucheon! They would have worn anx- ous faces, and gone with troubled air to find keys, and opened linen-presses, and took down special table-linen and a certain pattern of napkins, for who could picnic without napkins of certain style? Lengthy consultations would have been held, and the whole thing would roll its slow length along, in an extremely decorous and heavy manner. Homes ts. Houses. What is a home good for if not for rest and free dom and general peace of mind ? There are homes and there are houses. Of the latter class is the abode of my friends the Denisons. There is some thing in its very atmosphere that petrifies the one. They certainly have a handsome house, and they really exert themselves to do their duty to their guests, but truly to cross the threshhold of their brown stone front is like going to a funeral. You ring the bell and hear its decorous sound afar off. In a few seconds—a small age—you discern a mo notonous footstep in the dim distanee. It ap proaches with such grim precision, that by the time it reaches the front d^or your features have stiffened into a ghastly smile in th the vain en deavor to make up a face suitable to the person who may chance to open the door. You receive a politely-cordial smile in return, and a low-voiced inviiation to enter, just as if there were sickness in the house. Blinking your way along the spa cious hall, you find yourself in a ghostly parlor, the furniture all sitting around in their night gowns, like so many specters. I don’t believe the piano has moved its feet from that figure in the carpet since it came into the house, except on cleaning days. “There it stands, and there it will remain forever.” You seat yourself in your most perpendicular and uncompromising manner, till Dora comes in. How ail Angel was Repaired. Directly opposite the Winter Palace in St. Petersburg, and one of the most conspicuous objects on the whole line of the Neva, is the citadel, or old fortress, in reality the foundation of the city, the golden spires of its church shoot ing toward the sky, and glittering in the sun This spire, which rises tapering till it seems al most to fade away into nothing, is surmounted by a large globe, on which stands an angel sup porting a cross. This angel, being made of perishable materials, once manifested symptoms of decay, and fears were entertained that it would soon be numbered with tbe fallen. Tbe Government became perplexed how to repair it; to raise a scaffolding to such a hight would cost more than the angel was worth. Among the crowd which daily assembled to gaze at it from below was a roofer of houses, who, after a long and silent examination, went to the Government and offered to repair it without any scaffolding or assistance of any kind. His offer was accepted, and on the day. ap pointed for the attempt, provided with a coil of cords, he ascended inside to the highest win dow, and looking for a moment at the crowd be low and at the spire tapering away above him, stood on the outer edge of the window. The spires were covered with gilded copper, which to beholders below, presented only a smooth surface of burnished gold, but the sheets were roughly laid and fastened with large nails, which projected from the sides of the spire. He cut two pieces of cord and tied hoops over two pro jecting nails, and stood with his feet in the lower; then clinching the fingers of one hand over the rough edge of the sheets of copper, raised himself till he could hitch one of the loops on a higher nail with the other hand. He did the same for the other loop, and so he raised one leg after another, and at length ascended, nail by nail and stirrup by stirrup, till he clasped his arms around the spire, directly un der the ball. Here it seemed impossible to go any farther, for the ball was ten feet in circumference, with a smooth and glitterfng surface, and no project ing nails, and the angel was above the ball, as completely out of sight as if it were in the habi tations of its prototypes. But the daring roofer was not disheartened. Raising himself in his stirrups, he encircled the spire with a cord which he tied around his waist, and so support ed, he leaned gradually until the soles of his feet were braced against the spire and his body fixed almost horizontally in the air. In this po sition he threw a cord over the top of the ball, and threw it so coolly and skilfully that on the first attempt it fell down on the other side just as be wanted it. Then he drew himself up to his original position, and by means of this cord climbed up the smooth sides of the globe, and in a few moments, amid thunders of applause from the crowd below—which at that great hight sounded only like a faint murmur—he stood by the side of the angel. After attaching a cord to it he descended, and the next day carried up with him a ladder of ropes, and effected the necessary repairs. On observing the frequent quotations from Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, “I’ll put a girdle round the earth in forty minutes,” Mr. J. C. G. Kennedy has many times wondored that the remarkable words of Johphiel, in Ben. Jonson’s Maske, “The Fortunate Isles,” performed before His Majesty, 12th night, 1026, have not been reproduced. They are : “When yon have made the World your gallery, Can dispatch a business In some three minntes with the Antipodes, And in five more negotiate the Globe over, You must be poor still.” Mr. Carlyle says he remembers that a Universi ty debating society discussed for three weeks the question whether man had been developed (evolved ? ) from a cabbage or a turnip, and that the advocates of the cabbage finally won. Cab- She, although really a jolly, un- bage-head men are as plentiful to-day as they were] affected girl, has the manners of the house, and : thirty-five years ago, when this debate took place. (