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DOSIA — OR — THE TAMING OF A GIRL. BY HENRY ORtVILLE. Translated from the French, for the “Sunny South,” BY PROF. 0HA3. F. GAILMARD. XXIV, The road they followed returning nome wa3 along the river, wmch is very deep, except at a few places. As they came to one of those fords, mark ed by a lew poles, a young boy driving a country wagon entered the river from the opposite side, following the best he could, the problematic line indicated by the poles. The carriages stopped to witness how he would cross this somewhat dan gerous place. The boy's horse did not display much eagerness for the cold bath in etore for him, and protested in his own way before entering the water. *The water is deep,’ said Madame Zaptine ; ‘it will not be easy to pull that wagon through.’ ‘Is the ford dangerous?’ asked Pluto. ‘No, if he keeps on the right path, but if he deviates, right or left, the horse will have to swim.’ The horse was progressing slowly, feeling the ground as he went, when the wagon slipped on one side, dragging the horse after it. The man waa in the water up to his breast, and the animal was swimmiDg. •Lord, save me !’ exclaimed the driver. ‘He has lost the path !’ they all cried. Dosia did not utter a word. She quickly gathered before her the hanging folds of her dress, and whipped Bayard, who started for the river. ‘Dosia! what are you doing?’ cried her mother. The two young men sprung to the ground, but Dosia was already into the river. Bayard knew the ford and went boldly into it, smelling the water, not through fear but through prudence. When Dosia arrived at the middle of the river, ihe wagon had almost disappeared under the water, and the horse was making strenuous efforts to free himself of the harness, while the young peasant was calling to his aid all the saints in heaven. Dosia hesitated two seconds, then crossing her self, she urged Bayard into swimming water out side the path. He plunged so deeply into the river that even Dosia’s head went under the water. The young men had taken off their uniforms to go to her rescue when she reappeared and cried to them : ‘Never mind ! God will help me!’ Leaning over Bayard’s head, and extending her arm as far as she could, she succeeded in getting hold of the other horse s bridle. The animal took confidence and yielded to the impulse. Bayard, well led, soon got back into the path, and a moment later the two horses, the wagon and Dosia—all dripping with water—landed safely, resembling Neptune’s court just emerging from the waves. ‘The cold will kill you, Dosia 1’ said Madame Zaptine. ‘Oh ! that child will cause my death !’ Her mother was not through speaking, before Dosia was already far off. She had put Bayard to a tremendous gallop towards the house. The company kept silent during the way. On arriving, Plato was the first in the room, where he found Dosia, already undressed and wrapped up in a flannel wrapper, from her mo ther s wardrobe. She was standing up, trembling with cold. Her wet clothes were piled up on the floor at her feet. ‘You see, mother, I did not take the trouble of going up stairs ; they gave me one of your wrap pers. Don’t I look funny?’ She was laughing, but her teeth were chatter ing. They put her on a sofa and covered her up with warm blankets. Tea was given her, and after the second cup, she stopped trembling. Then Madame Zaptine began remonstrating. ‘Mother,’ said Dosia, unceremoniously inter rupting her, ‘my father told me that we must al ways help those in trouble, even at the risk of our life. But there was no danger there, for Bayard knows the ford as he knows his stall in the stable; we have passed it a hundred times.’ ‘But the consumption ! terrible child !’ ‘I could take it just as well at a ball, without profit to any one,’ philosophically answered Dosia. •Please give me another cup of tea.’ Madame Zaptine was obliged to stop her remarks there, but Dosia had an idea which she wanted to put through. ‘Did not Bayard behave well?’ she asked. ■Yes, he did ; I was not expecting eo much of him.’ •Because you never did appreciate his good qualities. He has saved the life of one of his kind, and for that he deserves a reward, does he not ?’ ‘Yes. If you want it, I will order a double ration of oats to be given him.’ ‘A double ration of oats is right, I thank you for him, but I would wish something more.’ ‘What is it ?’ ‘He must not pull that water hogshead any more, it is too servile a work for him.’ ‘Amid a burst of laughter, Mine. Zaptine solemn ly declared that hereafter Bayard should be ex empted from all degrading duty. ‘Thank you, mother, I am satisfied. Now I would like to sleep.’ ‘We will carry you to your room, dear.’ ‘Carry me!’ exclaimed Dosia, laughing, ‘just like a basket of clothes. I intend to go there my self with only the help of my own feet.’ She rose, threw off the blanket—a corner of which filled up her sister’s cup, and left for her room, after a graceful ‘good night’ addressed to the company. She avoided looking at Plato, whose eyes had followed her ever since he had entered the dining room. XXV. Dosia slept soundly; Mme Zaptine had a night mare, and Plato did not sleep at all. Dosia was always present in his mind. Perhaps she was now struggling against the first symptoms of a disease that might kill her, perhaps death—whom she had called the day before—was at her bed side. If she did not like to live, was not Mourief the cause of it ? Why was he not satisfied with the good qualities she possessed? Why did he dream of an impossible perfection? ‘If she dies,’ he thought, ‘what ahall I do on this earth ?’ . , , He went down to the dining room, and found Madame Zaptino preparing the coffee tor breakfast. •Well,’ dear madame, how is Dos—, Mademoi selle Theodosie?’ •Mademoiselle Theodosie is here, answered the young girl, in a slightly hoarse voice, I am here taking the sun on the balcony, Monsieur Plato.’ Plato ran rather than walked to the balcony. <^j.g you well now ?’ asked Plato, in a voice as hoarse as if he had himself caught cold in the nV ‘There is nothing the matter with me. I slept ▼ery well last night; there is nothing like a cold bath to make one sleep.’ f •But at this time of the ye#! ...... •In two weeks from now everybody will bathe in the lake; I am a little ahead of them, that's looked at her as if he had found back a lost treasure! ‘Have you drunk your coffee?’ she asked. ‘No.’ ‘Have your cup brought here. We will break fast together.’ A moment later, a servant brought a little table and a waiter with the breakfast. Eating, more than anything else, creates a sympathy of impres sions. Dosia soon began to speak at random as before. Occasionally a shadow passed through her mind, but she was the only one to know it. When the cups were empty, Dosia threw on the balcony a few crumbs of bread which were soon picked up by birds coming from every directions. •They know me,’ said Dosia, ‘and they love me well!’ She closed her eyes, and her long black eye lashes threw a dark tint upon her pale face. Plato looked at her in anxiety. A servant took the table away. Plato remained alone with the young girl. ‘Dosia !’ he began, after a long hesitation. She opened her eyes and blood rushed to her face. ‘Dosia,’ continued the young man, ‘I have been very hard on you ! Will you forgive it ?’ She extended her hand as if to sign him not to say a word of that. He took that cold hand and kept it in his own. ‘I had in my mind an angelic perfection and I wished you to resemble my ideal. I was wrong : every one has his instincts, his sentiments, his impressions that are his own; you could not pos sibly be ’ ‘Like Sophie! interrupted Dosia, with a sigh. ‘Oh! no.’ She drew her hand, which Plato timidly tried to retain, sighed a second time and looked another side. ‘As you are, Dosia,’ continued Plato, ‘you are good and charming ; you deserve esteem and affec tion from all, and—you have it.’ ‘I attach more importance to the esteem of some few than to that of all.’ •You have both,’ said Plato, ‘you have inspired me with a sentiment unknown to me before, a sentiment that will change my life.’ He interrupted himself. His eyes had said more than his words. ‘I am ashamed,’ replied Dosia, ‘that I have stolen an esteem which I do not deserve. You probably love me for my sincerity, my frankness—as for other qualities, I dont see any. Well! even that with me is deceitful. I ought to have lold you so lung ago, but sometimes you was so severe, that I did not dare to speak of myself to you ; I was wrong, I see it now.’ Plato listened to her with a great satisfaction. A heavenly hope was penet rating into his soul, but he did not dare yet to believe in it. Dosia continued : •You are speaking of sentiments that will have a great influence upon your life. Before it is too late, before those sentiments become the torment of your life, as they have done that of ’ She bit her lips, grew pale and added ; ‘I must tell you that I am not what you believe me to be. Last year, disgusted with my life in this house, I perpetrated a folly that will cost me the happiness of my life. In a moment of exasper ation, I asked my cousin Pierre to run away with me. He had no love for me. I believe I knew it even then, but I had lost the control of my reason, 1 was determined to leave this house ; I insisted and finally he consented. We had not traveled two miles before I realized how imprudent my conduct was. I regretted what I had done, and as nobody knew it, Pierre was kind enough to bring me back home, without even addressing me the reproaches I so weli deserved. After this, sir, after a fault which —is only mine—for Pierre is completely innocent I am not deserving of your esteem, forgive me for having illegitimately pos sessed it so long.’ She ceased speaking, and two bitter tears ran telegraphic wire,’ he said laughing, ‘especially my aunt with her feather-weight.’ Madame Zaptine laughed heartily. Her cont entment on that day was such that she had forgot ten to be sick. The plank began moving up and down, Mourief always looking at them. ‘Say, Dosia,’ he cried, ‘do you remember here, last year ’ He stopped short, fearing, he had already said too much. ‘Yes I remember, but you were not then as pleas ant as you are this evening. Well! come and swing wi*h us too.’ Pierre threw away his cigarette, seated himself near Sophie, and struck the ground vigorously with his foot, giving the already too loaded plank a frightful start, and every one followed his example amid a burst of la ughter. •You will break the swing,’ screamed Madame Zaptine, trying her best to stop them. ‘Never mind! aunt, it does not matter,’ answer ed Mourief, whose handsome face glowed with delight. ‘It is only a family party. We are all one now.’ And so they were a week later. It was a double wedding that took place that auspicious day in the grand old church that loving hands had adorned with evergreens and snow- white blossoms. [the end.] New York After Dark. All The World Over. silently u TiU her cheeks, ohe tried 10 master her emotion, but could not. Her sobs burst out violently and she cried abundantly, hiding her face upon the back of her arm chair. ‘Dosia,’ uttered Plato’s voice, so close to her ear that she started, Dosia, you are an angel! I knew that story!’ She sighed deeply, •You knew it and you loved me still?’ ‘No, Dosia, I did not love you—not enough, I mean—not as I love you now. I was asking my self if you would have enough confidence in me to speak.’ ‘Many a time I tried to, but you were so serious, you set-med to consider me as such an insignificant being, I was so much afraid of you ’ ‘And now ?’ ‘Now !’ said Dosia, smiling, ‘you scare me some yet, but not so much. Have you really any esteem for me ?’ •Yes,’ said Plato, smiling too, ‘you have done like Bayard, you have saved one of your kind.’ ‘That is not worth speaking of.’ ‘I have never done as much ! but as I am wiser than you, that may balance the situation. Do you remember the day we came to the conclusion that you should marry a very wise man ?’ •I shed many a tear on that day !’ ‘You shall not shed any more tears. Do you find me wise enough to be your husband ?’ Dosia looked at him, opened her arms to him, but through a graceful virginal modesty, folded them immediately upon her breast, and resumed her seat, pale but always looking at him. He fold ed her in his arms, and went with her—almost carried her—into the house. Madame Zaptine had a splendid opportunity for lecturing on etiquette, but she missed it, for the Princess signed to her, sayiDg : ‘1 believe that my brother has a communication to make you.’ ‘Madame,’ said Plato, ’‘I come to ask you Made moiselle Dosia’s hand To describe the exclamations and tumult that followed is simply impossible. Homere alone could attempt it successfully. Dosia went up stairs to come down a few minutes later, with a dress in keeping with her new state of affiance. They organized a dance, and Mour ief volunteered to turn the hand-organ that was to be the orchestra. He displayed so much zeal in his functions that he broke the handle of the musical bex an accident that was a new pretense for merriment. They all enjoyed themselves so much that until they retired to their room, Dosia’s sisters had no time to grieve upon the great injustice fate had done them on that day. ‘Our wedding shall take place next week,’ said Plato when they had all gathered around the table for dinner. ‘What!’ exclaimed Madame Zaptine, ‘and what about the trousseau ?’ ‘I don’t marry the trousseau; we can get that after while. But we must marry next week, at the same time with Sophie. Don't we, Dosia ?’ ‘Certainly ! You know, I take Bayard along.’ ‘What a good thing!’ exclaimed all the sisters in a chorus. •Don’t rejoice too much,’ said Dosia, ‘otherwise I will leave you my dog.’ The sisters begged pardon, and it was agreed that the dog should follow Bayard. After dinner, the company came down to the garden, and Madame Zaptine, owing to an old habit of her youth, seated herself on the swinging plank. For the last twenty-eight years, she had spent a few minutes there every day after dinner, to help her digestion. Two young girls followed her, then Dosia and Plato. Finally the whole company joined them, except Mourief, who stood about three yards, from them, smoking a cig- arrette. ‘You look like a row of swallowB perched on a Mr. Talmasc Continues his Recital of his Researches in Rot hum by Rus light. The Tabernacle was filled to its utmost cap acity on Sunday ‘24tb inst. New York s sensa tional preacher continued his lectures on the wickedness to be seen after dark in the modern Sodom, even New Jersey hawing poured forth her thousands to hear of the iniquities of New York. Among the ranks of reporters were half a dozen artists, who, having sketched the mus icians and the pnlpit before the arrival oi the parson, turned toward the open-mouthed con- gation and began to sketch it, at which process some ladies put fans before their faces while others had the appearance of trying to bring their feathers into prominent relief. Mr. Tal- mage gave out tho text: ‘The gates of hell shall not prevail against it,’ and then buttoned his coat and commenced: ‘ “ It’s only ten o'clock,’’ said the officer, as we got into the carriage on the night of the exploration. “It’s only 10, and it's too early to see the places yet, for the the atres are not yet out.” “How's that,” said I. “Oh,” said he, “these haunts are patronised by people who go in the early part of the even ing to the theatres. They are never in full blast until after the theatres are out.” So we loitered on, and the officer told the driver to stop in a certain street. All seemed quiet and dark, and the blinds of the house were drawn down. I was, however, told that we stood be fore one of the costliest and most brilliant gam bling houses in the city. The doors were guard ed, but, after a whispered* word from the officer, they swung open, and we entered a long parlor. All the work was going on in silence, save such noise as was made by the rattling of the chi^s at a faro table and th6 whirl of the ball at a roulette table. Before each table were sitting men. Some of these, the officer told me, had served terms in prisoD. Side by side they were seated with bankers, merchants and ship brok ers. None looked up. All were watching the ball and the cards. Their facts were pale. Some saw houses, and horses and families go ing into the dreadful vortex.’ Then Mr. Talmage detailed with rather tedious particularity the routined gambling house bus iness. ‘Pshaw,’ said he, ‘the literature about the costliness and magnificence of tluse palaces is all untrue. Men kept their hats on and smoked and there was nothing rich either in the way of paintings or nnhclsh-fry- It was simply a den of death. These arc the places where men have their earnings and their prop erty won away, and then go forth, some to drink, some to resort to the forger’s pen and to suicide. But it is 11 o’clock, and we must be off. The body-guard slammed the door behind us and we entered our carriage and drove down to ward the gates of hell—Oh! the gates of hell! They are burnished until they shine in the gaslight, and they are set in sockets of deep and dreadful masonry. They are high, to keep from any esoape t‘nos6 who are within them, but it is safe to go when the Lord tells you and I entered the gates of hell and am here to sketch what I saw within. To-day I shall tell you what these gates are made of. Gate the first—impure literature. At this sudden diversion from the subject of ‘ New York After Dark,’ there was a little murmur of dissatisfaction among the audience and some went away. The speaker caused the adult portion of Lis congregation to turn pale by saying all sorts of dreadful things concern ing the extent to which bad books and novel ettes ar secretly owned by the younger mem bers of the best households in the land, and said that there are one million men aud women in the United States to-day reading themselves into heii. The second gate of hell is the dissolute dance. ‘ Whatever,’ said Mr. * Talmage, * you may think of the methodic movement of the body to the sounds of music in social circles, you must recognise the fact that there is a dissolute dance. It is seen not only in the gilded halls of hell, but in fine mansions. You know what postures and attii udes and figures are suggested by the devil. This gate of hell is so wide that it swings across the Axminister to many a drawing room, and its shadow passes over the hard and pol ished floor of the ball room. You have no right to take attitudes to music which you could not take without it.’ The third gate of hell Mr. Talmage called ‘in decent apparel.' ‘Iam told,’ said he, ‘that a new fashion of female dress is about coming in from Paris which is most shocking to all right eousness. At this statement the women in the audience looked at one another in surprise, ‘Oh, I oharge you Christaiu women neither by the style of address or adjustment of apparel to become administrators of evil. Perhaps no one else will dare tell you this fact, so I will tell it to you. The multitude of men owe their eter nal damnation to boldness of female attire. [Ap- plause and a few hisses.] You wonder the city of Tyre was destroyed. Have you ever seen the fashion plates of that city ? I show them to you.’ So saying Mr. Talmage picked up the Bible and read the passage wherein the daughters of Tyre are described as using a mincing gait, whimples, and crimping pins. ‘ Do you wonder,’ said he, ‘ that the Lord blotted out that place ?’ Mr. Talmage’s fourth gate of hell, and the last of which he spoke, was called ‘alcholic bev erage.’ ‘As we went about to these dens of death,’ he said, ‘I noticed that the influence of the wine-cup was every where. The officers told me that one of the difficulties met with In clos ing up these places arises from the fact that they are all licensed to sell drinks. I say that the courts and the legislatures are responsible for murder.’ In conclusion, Mr. Talmage made a little ad dress to the army of reporters present: ‘I am greatly obliged to you, gentlemen,’ said he ; ‘I thank you for the almost universal fairness with whioh you have presented what I have had to say. Of course, amoBg the educated and refin ed journalists that sit here there will be a fool or two who don’t understand his business.’ At this sally the congregation burst into a loud laugh. Mr. Talmage announced that he should oontinue to preach about his visit to New York until he had said all that he had to say. Hotel Bobbers Bagged.—Three men, regis tered as John Bradly, J. H. Murray and James Thompson, were arrested in Richmond, Va., Tuesday nigh*, whilst in the act of robbing the room of Judge H. H. Marshall at the Exchange Hotel. On the same night, on the train between Petersburg and Richmond, a merchant on his way North to buy goods was robbed of $3 800, and on Wednesday a passenger on his way to tbe Richmond Fair, on the Richmond, Fredericks burg and Potomac Railroad, was relieved of a gold watch, and another passenger was robbed of S150. George H. Oviatt discovered a snake of worms in Orange, near the boundary line between the town of Orange and Woodbridge, Conn., about two weekg ago, which was crossing the highway. It was four feet two inches in length, and the worms were about three-eights of an inch in length and of a pale brown color, except the head, which was black. Daring half an hour they moved only a few feet. He separated the worms several times, but they remained so only a short time, and joined the main body. The snake consisted of hundreds of these worms, which travel in the form of a srake, and leave a wet trail behind them. There were several lead ers, followed by hundreds of these worms, one above another, from one-quarter to one-half of an inch in thickness, and over four feet in length. A snake or chain of worms was seen in this town last year, but it was not as large as this one. Mrs. Griffin and Her Children.—The fam ily of Dennis Griffiu, who lives in Paterson, N. J., consisted of a wife and two children. A week ago his wife left him after a quarrel, and he moved, with his children, to the house of a friend. Yesterday his wife came back, and, as he refused to give up the children, had the whole party arrested. Judge Wallace, after hearing the story, ordered them all to go home and set tle their quarrel. ‘Who takes the children?’ Mrs. Griffin asked, excitedly. ‘The father has the right of custody.’ •But he sha’n t have them !’ cried Mrs. Griffin, clasping the children frantically. ‘I will have them,’ shouted the father, seizing Mrs. Griffin and endeavoring to force the chil dren from her. The youngsters screamed and it took three policemen to separate the husband and wife, and even after that Mrs. Griffin sprang over the railing of the bar and made a furious attack on Mr. Griffin, crying piteously for the possession of her little ones. The police finally ejected her, but she lay in wait and, when her husband came out, again attacked him, until he and the children were glad to seek police pro tection. # New York, Nov. 8.—Mrs. A. T. Stewart has offered a reward of $25,000 for the recovery of the body of her late husband, stolen irom the family vault in St. Marks’ Church graveyard, and conviction of the thieves. A proportionate sum will be paid for the recovery of the body. Shot in His Door.—At Houston, Texas, on the 7th inst., a man on horseback rode up to the city residence of Adolph Schachtrupp, and call ing him out shot him down with a shot gun. A nephew of the deceased recognized the assassin as William Coward. Schachtrupp was a witness against Coward, charged with stealing Schach- trupp’s mule. An amiable Milanese grocer of forty-seven summers, on his return home recently from his shop, found a letter from his young wife, in which she informed him that, as her parents had married her against her will to a man old enough to be her papa, and whom she could not there fore love, it had appeared best for her to run away with a lover. The grocer immediately went stark mad, and was sent to a lunatic asy lum. Maine has grown 1, 300,000 bushels of wheat the past year, against 278,000 bushels in 18G9. The Maine Farmer has offered prizes of $50, $30, and $20 for the be3t growths on an acre of land in 1879. A farmer at Ulverstone, England, gave a lift home from market to a neighbor and her three children. For this kindly act he was arrested, on the ground that he had violated the law, which licensed his cart to carry only merchan dise, and a reluctant judge was compelied to fine him heavily. A profusely illustrated convict named John Logan escaped from the New Jersey State prison on the 21th nit. He had india-inked on his right arm two anchors, one cross, two stars, and one ballet-girl; on bis right hand a shield, a cross, a heart, two stars, and five ink-spots; on the left arm the initials ‘J. L.,’ a coat of arms, a star, a tree and a heart;a bracelet in ink on his left; while upon the back of his left haud was displayed the American eagle. Mabel Whitman and Dr. Spears have been ar raigned in Boston for poisoning the the mother of the former. Physicians testified to finding arsenic in Mrs. Whitman’s stomach. A druggist testified to selling arsenic to the daughter of the victim, and friends and neighbors of the family testified to the fact that she had frequently in quired as to the nature of poison, and arsenic in particular. A full-grown ordinary water lizard, over four inches in length, was vomited alive in Toronto last week, by a 9-year-old son of Mr. P. McEvoy, of Emily, near Downey ville. The boy bad been complaining for some weeks of pain in his stom ach, bat his parents thought it was nothing more than colic. A few days ago the pain was accampanied by asuffooating feeling, the lizard evidently trying to make its way upward a la excelsior. Wednesday morning th9 little boy jumped out of bed feeling very sick, and the next moment, to the surprise and horror of the family, his lizardship crawled along the floor in lively style. A Deathbed Confession.—Aggie McDonald, the young woman who made the oharges of orimiaalitr against the priestsofthe Catholic College at Quincy, Illinois, died on last Tues day morning. On Sunday morning she procured arsenic, and Monday morning she was found by Mrs. McDonald, the lady of the house where she was staying, very siok. She acknowledged she had taken poison, and Dr. Wilson was called. He arrived about 4 a’m. and found her very low; administered antidotes, and told her she would die. She then acknowledged that her statements, charging the Brothers of the College with criminality with her were false, and retracted her aoonsations in the presence of several witnesses, among them one of the Broth ers, who was sent for after midnight. A past mortem wa3 held, and the discovery made that the statements about her condition were nntrne. THE FEMALE BOOK AGENT. A LIFE SKETCH. This fiend is set down as oft.be feminine sen der. That is to say, she bunches out the back of her hair, and she privately owns a pot of rouge, with a small cargo of lily-white powder, also; she elastics her stockings about the knee, and she weareth a tight dress, whioh displays the rounded contour of her form. So you see that she must be of the feminine gender. Man doesn’t do this sort of thing—much. Also, man is not a great success as a female solicitor for subscriptions to monthly numbers of ‘Castle’s Bible,’ elegantly illustrated by Hunky Dory; or the ‘Life of Christopher Co lumbus, with cuts from the live Indians he dis covered.’ If a man came into year office and asked yon to subscribe for one of those monuments of lit erature and art, yon would calmly say, ‘No,’ and point oar dexter hand, doorward. But when a woman comes in, and asks yon a like question, she sitteth herself down, and she draweth nigh to herself a chair upon which to rest her dainty feet; and she arrangeth her back hair, and giveth forth a sigh ‘A—ah!’ Then she feels more comfortable, but she finds it to be necessary to shake oat her skirts once more before she is really at home in her chair, and then she opens her mouth and com mences. ‘I have called on yon to-day, sir, with the first numbers of that great worn, entitled ‘The Descent of Darwin from the Origin of Monkey, showing the first elongation of the caudal ap pendage, with a view of the last stamp.' Illus trated, sir, with cuts by the great artist Michael Mac ADgelo, from Galway, Ireland, who closely investigated—’ Yon here, at last, muster up courage to s»y : ‘I don't care to subscribe for it. madam. And, excuse me, I am very busy. Good morning.’ And you mildly move your hand, as a gentle hint tuat the door is near, and is an easy place of exit. But this female-not being a man—arises in her seat, wriagles, pulls out some concealed female rigging,' which has become disarranged, and again commences: ‘This work will be completed in 144 monthly numbers, price ouiy 59 cents each. $o you see that in twelve years —’ Here patience ceases to be a virtue, and you exclaim, ‘Madam, madam, I don't want your work. I’m busy. Please go, and leave me to my business! Then she rises and says, ‘If I am to be in sulted, if a lady is in danger of personal assanlt —but no, I will not believe it. I place myself on my footing as a Woman, and I beg to remind you that each month as this Great Work is is sued from the press I shall come here, person ally, to deliver it.’ This last straw breaks your camel's back. Yon rise in your manhood and exclaim, ‘Madam, this is too mnch!' Yon open the door and say, ‘I mast beg yon to leave me. I dont want your boob. I don’t want yon; but I do want to be left alone.’ You place your hand lightly upon her shoulder, as indicating yonr manly deter mination that she must go oat. She raises a little shriek of alarm! She retires into the room, she seats herself, she tells you that she is a wo man and a mother (as if she could be a mother if she wasn’t a woman); that one of her father's consins was Secretary of the Navy under Presi dent Jackson, and that if you toueti her, or dare to lay finger upon her again, she will screech tor the police. Then she sobs. You have busi ness appointments, and your watch warns you that the minutes are few before men will be coming into your office. What can you do ? A voioe, broken with sobs, buzzes in your ear, as if beard ?> n m a distance, or in a dream- and the words are, ‘This Great work will be illustrated by Michael MacAngelo, from Galway and Then you succumb, Yon open your wallet and pay your money, and the Female Book- Agent Fiend departs with a grin, to pi ty Ler little game over again on your neighbors. Drs. Bell and Blackburn. A young lady was complimented in \\ ashing- ton society for the simplicity of hi r dress. She replied: ‘lam glad you like it. It cost seven dollars, and I made it np myself.’ When young ladies pride themselves on the cheapness of their attire instead of its expensiveness, we shall have fewer ‘broken’ fathers and husbands. How absurd it is to tell girls that beauty is of no value, dress of no use. Beauty is of value. A girl’s whole prospects in life may depend upon a new dress or a becoming bonnet. The great thing is to teach the just value of dress, and that for real happiness there mast be some thing better ander the bonnet than a pretty face! What is the difference,’ asked a teacher in arithmetic, between one yard and two yards ?’ ‘A fence,’ said Tommy Beales. Then Tommy sat on the ruler fourteen times. The Hero of the Hour, Louisville,Nov. 2.—Dr. Luke Blackburn is the bon pt tbe hour. He returned a few days ago fom Hickman, whither he had gone as a heroic Ken tuckian to the succor of his brethren. Gr nd old man! We hold him in our inmost hearts, a hero of heroes. Believing firmly in the theory of contagion, and never haviag had the diseace, he bravely, grandly goes where the scourge rev els wildest, to Kentuckians first, after that to all the world, if need be. No question now as to who our next governor shall be. This self-sac rifice is no new thing, practiced for eff. ct, He has worked through sixteen great epidemics. It had been arrauged to give him an ovation at the Exposition to-night, when he was to be introdu ced by Dr. Bell,the physician who is Blackburn's dismatric opponent in theory, and who received an ovation and a medal some time since, for his wise prevention of a paaic. Bat Dr. B. object ed to the fuss and the speech-making, nad wonld not be publicly testimonialized. Dr. Bell is Blackburn’s senior by several years, and is en tirely a self-made man. While he stitched away on the tailor's bench in Lexington years ago, Blackburn was receiving his education as a fa vorite of fortnne and a representative of Kentuc ky’s proudest aristocraoy. They meet to day npon common ground—Bell, with his massive intellect, an integrity of purpose pure as truth itself, and the fruit of long years cf patient, earnest study; Blackburn, with his record of professional success and practical humanitari- an is a/, the tender love of his kind that led him through the swampy bottom lands around H ck- man to bathe the feet and give help to the poor est negro whose claim to it was that he suffered. This has been his life-long practice, for which he has received no more substantial reward than the thanks and blessings of his fellow men. The medical profession has certainly a right to a proud pre-eminence, and a time like this is the true test of the material of whioh it is made. Of those weighed in the balance none have been found wanting, bat have given freely the last and greatest of gifts— their lives. When a savage people are to be civilized, Eng land fits out a ship with a big box of bibles and a bold fall of ram, and gets the first footing; when a country is to be opened to commerce, she sends a little trading party ahead and follows them close with a gunboat, giving the natives the cheerful privilege of paying their money and taking their choice. Taschir-Now what is the meaning of the word chasm? Pupil—It is an opening. Teacher —Favor me with an example. Pupil—The mil liners have a chasm at the beginning of the season. Love is an eternal transport!’ exclaimed an enthusiastic poet. ‘ So is a canal boat,’ said a old practical forwarding merchant. A new way of measuring liquid: * Ten swal lows make one drink, tea drinks make one drank, ten dranks make one jiin-jam.’ Winnepeo, Nov. 10.—A Battleford (Northwest Territory) dispatch says: Reliable couriers from the plains report an outbreak of war between the Assineboines and Sioux. Eight of the latter were killed. The Assineboines also stole horses from the Blackfeet and killed a Blaokfoct chief!