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E*FOI.I>IXG*. T UAMW MAW t • DODOS. aaowfiikt that *oftly, all night, ia whitening and pathway; Dm araiaixsha suddenly runhing with darknaaa aod to Um hamlet XL* raw aUaling la through the lattloa to wakaa the day-loving baby: Tha plttteM horror of light la the sun-ami ttaa reach at tha daawt. Tha •**<! with Its pregnant ■'urprtas of welcome young leaflet and bloeaom ; Tha daapalr of the wlidaruaaa tangle, and treacher ous ihlckat of forest Tha happy west wind aa It startles some noon-ltd* u flower from its dreamiug; Tha hurricane crashing its way through the hornet and the life of tho valley. The play of the jetlete of flame when the ohlldrea laugh out on the hearth-*-tone; The town or the prairie consumed In a terrible, hiss tug combustion. ' glide of a wsve on the eanda with its myriad •park'e in breaking ; The roar and the fury of ocean, a limitless maelstrom of ruin. Tha leaping of heart unto heart with blisa that t*.i never be spoken; Tha paealon that mad <en*, and shows how God may be thrust from His creatures. For this do I tremble and start when the roee on the vine tap* xny ehoulder— For th*a when the storm t* ata sue down my soul groweth bo der and bolder. — The Century Magazine. ”■ ionn's Little Joke. " Well, I ■num I" exclaimed Uncle Phil Wheeler, in his characteristic wav, finishing the speech with a prolonged whistle. “ Wiiat’s the matter, Uncle Phil ?” •• Hey ?” “ What's the matter ?” “Why, your Aunt Hunan just bought another bureau I” The speaker* were Mr. Philip Wheel er, commonly called Uncle Phil, and his handsome, devil-may-care nephew, John Langilon. Undo Phil was standing un der the big brown horse-chestnut tree, whittling anew handle for his hammer, when a hay-wagon, containing a bureau, ■topped before the gate. “ Whose bureau's that ?” demanded *"'ncle Phil. “It’s for Miss Whoeler," was tho an swer. “ Hhe bought it down at Squire Thomas's auction." “ Well, I snum 1” Jehu Langilon, just coming from the wood-house, armed cap-a-pie, with rod and lines, heard the exclamation aud in quired the cause. “Ho Aunt Hasan luut bought another bureau, lias she?" he remarked, alter a moment's scrutiny of that awful piece f household furniture. “ I say, Uncle Phil, where is sho going to put it?" “ Hey?" ejaculated Uncle Phil, star ing hard at hia nephew over his silver bowed sucoa. “ Who re is sho going to put it ?" Uuole Phil shook his head and re newed hia whittling. “I’m Ldamed if I know," he said at last. “ I reckon 'twill have to set stop of annulling, for I don't believe there's floor room for it iu the house." “ I've got three in my room now, and i shall proteat against a fourth," laughed John. “Aunt Husnu," addressing that lady, who appeared oil the piazza to superintend the removal of her newly-ac quired treasure from the cart to llio house. “ where are you going to put that thing ?” " Well, John, if you want it, why of oourac you can have it; but I did tliiuk I'd put it in the buttery, it would be bo handy—" “By all means,” interrupted John ; “the buttery is just the place for it; three are as many as I can occupy, in ••much m 1 only brought a hand-hag along on my little visit. If you were to give me a fourth, I should bo reduced to the necosait v of remaining in bud in order to use it/’ “Oh, go away, you rogue," cried his aunt, locking lovingly at lnm; “and atop laughing at your old auntie. Here you,” in alarm to the driver. “TuU care, there, you’ll have that leg oil ! Hold on to the glass I My I my ! How careless you be 1” After much anxiety on Aunt Husiui's part, hair-breadth escapes ou the bu reau's and a good deal of harmless awearing, auch aa “ I snum I" “by gol ly I” etc., ou Uuole Phil’s, the old bu reau was at last deposited in the buttery, where it took up just three inches more room than it oould witli any degree of propriety be accommodated with. Oou aequently, being of a firm aud unyield ing nature, a sharp an l uncompromising corner was thrust obtrusively aud of feudinglv out, against which nnwarv toes and unfortunate sinus would in all probability Im frequently punished. But Aunt Busan was not the woman to go forth to meet trouble, and no shadow rested upon her placid brow, nor mi 'givings annoyed or made afraid. The bureau was a bargain, nud that sublime fact ahed such a halo of glory over its somewhat battered surface as to completely put to rout the inoonvenienco of its position. Next morning Aunt Busan rose lie times, sent for the woman who lived on the back road, and enjoyed a day of “putting to righto." Those days', in which she caused to be brought forth from garret, cellar and hidden store room* treasures collected from auctions innumerable, were dear to her heart, though abomina'ious in the eyes of Un cle Phil, who wandered around amid the household gods in bittoruoas of spirit. John watched the " cleaning" opera teon with an amused smile curliug the corners of hia handsome mouth, till at length a bright idea struok him. “By Jove," he muttered, " I believe we nught do it 1” Five miuutee later he might have been ■ecu in earliest confab with Uncle Phil, who grinned and nodded his head in evi dent Mtista-'tion and full approval of the (dan, whatever it was. The day ended with great race -ss in aha cleaning line. Before sundown an array of a|>U aa mahogany, brass, chi na, britaunia, etc., etc., might have tieen aeen ornamenting Uncle Phil’s front yard—articles which the waning my* of the bdu touched and earned to reflect .ike polished mirrors. Bojo everythin i wee replaced, the old woman departed, and quiet brooded over the old fana bouae once more. Next dav John waa to return home to C , and Annt Hasan waa to accom pany him, fur the double purpose of paying her sister—John’s mother—a ▼iait, and witnessing the ceremony which should give t > John a wife. This wedding waa verv near to her heart; first, because she loved John very dearly, and aeoord, because he had bongnt a lovely little nest of a home close by her boose and was, after a reas onable trip, to bring his young wife here, under Aunt Susan's' motherly wing, while he began his oarear as a lawver in ths brisk little village near bv. Nothing short of the immense impon aaae af this event oould have induced the good woman to commit the daring net of risking hex neck upon a railroad , for the twenty-mile journey waa a* for midable to her, with her old time no tions. as would a riit to U :*> * Wwh-bttil aias. The morning arrived, aud Aunt Su san, with many injunctions and cautions, at last took her place in the wagon which was to convey her to the depot. John delayed a few moments to take special parting with Uuole Phil. What was said no one heard save the parties interested ; but John's low words called forth a series of energetic words from his uncle, end a dry, hard chuckle, be traying au unusual amount of interest The journey ended safely, and Aunt Busan was beginning to feel at home on springs, and to sleep in spite of the noise on the street, when a letter from home completely upset the good woman, and threatened to start her ou her home ward track without delay. “ The house has been robbed,” wrote Un Me Phil. “ I was down to see Mar thy”—his sister—“ and it sot in to storm so hard 1 stayed all night. Wall, when I got home I thought things looked sorter queer, aud sure cnongli, I found lots of things gone. The bureau in the buttery, and ail the things outen the summer kitchen, a whole lot of brass things from tho stairway closet, and no end of flxin's all o7er. I can't aee,” wrote the old gentlemau, “as any close or silver lias been took, and I guess the thieves must hev knowed of your bar gains and como for them siiec'ial. I’ve heard they set stores br them in big places. I reckon at a ruflf gess we’ve lost about five burows, three sophies and six or seven parlor stoves, to say nothing of cliiny and brass things.” To say that Aunt Busan was stunned would Ims but faintly to express her state of mind; but she determined John’s happiness should not be dimmed by her anxiety, aud so by a great effort she succeeded in overcomiug her despon dency and assuming a cheerful face. The wedding day came and paused. John and Mary were lsound iu the holy bonds of wedlock, and ’sad departed on their bridal trip. Aunt Busan lingered a few days to complete some purchases, then returned to the even tenor of her quiet home, and waited with what patience she could for John's return. Uucle Phil was waiting too—silently, hut no less anxiously. In fact, a little air of mystery hung over the old house nnd hid shyly away amidst tho wrinkles of the kindly old faces of its excellent owners. Uucle Phil had some socret he did not tell Aunt Busan, aud Auut Bu san hod some secret she did not oonflila to Uncle Phil, and, stranger still, each was so engaged with his own os to bo perfectly oblivious of the other's posses sion. Only one person saw, understood, en joyed and remained silent—(Jncle Phil’s sister, Martha. The summer’s heat slowly died ont, and autumn was beginning to paint tbe tree-tops in the glories of red and gold, when John wrote that he was coming with his wife to take up liis homo iu tho little house. They were to remain at Uucle Phil's till their house was ready. Of course everything was on tip-toe. Aunt Hiisou caused a supply of pies nnd cukes to be baked that would have victualed a man-of-war; while Uncle Phil spent the entire day shaking out buffalo robes, and polishing up the old carriage and wagon. Train time cuine; so did John and Mary, and the old people drove them home from tho depot with great pride, under the scrutinizing gaze of the entire village eye, so to apeak. Tea was soon ready, but not so soon but Uncle Phil had found time to di vulge Ins secret to John, for from the woodlnmse came a low murmur of voices, witli now and then a hearty peal of laughter in John's clear voice mingled with Uucle Phil's low guffaw. Twice did Auut Busan cull out and demand to know the joke, and twice did she got her trouble for her pains, for no hint was given. After ten the whole party strolled down to the new house. Now it was Aunt Busan'h turn. With a proud step she marched ahead and opened the door of the house, a faint Hush on her with ered ohtvk. Mary followed oloselv, hut Phil and John stood rooted iu tho hull, stiuiug blankly and stupidly iuto the lit tle parlor. Certainly there was nothing there which ought to frighten two full-grown men—only four or five bureaus of some wlmt antique design, several tables with massive pedestals and claw feet, two so fas huge enough to accommodate the “ pro-historic man” we hear about, and a goodly assortment of clocks, andirons, sliovelH, etc. “ You don’t seem to be pleased," Baid Aunt Susan ill a crestfallen manner, her kind old voice trembling a little. “ Now 1 thought you would lie tickled aliout to death with them. I found them all in C (Uuole Phil and John ex changed guilty looks), and I was so took aback nt losing mine, and I noticed you looked kinder red aud cat up the morn ing tin) news come, bo I thought to my self, Now I’ll juat buy these for you, John. This here burow”—placing hor hand lovingly on a large and imposing piece of furniture—"did look so oxuetly like the one I bought of Squire Thomas aud hod in my buttery, that I couldn't help gciting it. You know you kinder wanted it, John, tho night it ciuue home, and I ulus felt sorter moan that I didn't give it to you then; so os soon as I Bot my eyes on this one 1 up and bought it aiid sent it down with the rest, unbe known to anybody, so as to surprise you, You didn’t suspect, did you, Pnil ?" But Uncle Vhil was still speechless, aud even John's ready tongue refused to do its work. While they yet stood, a silent and crestfallen group, a shrill, high treble broke upon the silence, end Aunt “ Mar tliv” came walking in. Wall! I do eay yon look meeching enough ! I told yon, Phil, that Hasan would find yon ont I I thought I should I ust whu Hasan weut to Caleb to go down to the depot and hanl up three thiugs just ten days after he hanled nm don n, though, aa fur that, ’twaa dark enough whan he took gm down, being night— ’’ At this awful stage John recovered himself sufficiently to ooufrent Aunl Martha and by dmt of winks and nodr make her understand that she waa mak ing a mess of it. l*oor "Marthy” stared, as opee mouthed m the rest; but the warning had come too late ; Aunt Hnsau was t J no means slow, and the whole plot was aa plain aa daylight to her. ** And sOj Philip Wheeler," ehe buret ont with withering scorn, "yon thought ’twould bs fine fun to deceive me with your trmnpt-up story of thieves that has made the shivcre run down my back every night since I came home! Oh, yon needn't aav nothin'"—aa Uncle Phil attempted to speak—" it’e mity I honest, mshbe, and does greet credit to I your profession. Ae for you. Johu, I wouldn't hare belVed von would hev ! treated your old unto in such a way. | Yon ken" hike them old things and send !um back to <J ■ ■■■; 1 hate the night of l am; ’* And Annt Susan fairly broke 1 down, and, bowing her head on Harr's shoulder, buret into a ahower of -tears h mu and Uncle Phil aad J he. to twi not Wily Uh# eueeluMui sooiubkttlA but like midnight assassins and burg lars as well. There was not much to say, hut wliat could be said John said ; he explained that no harm was intended, and that it was but a foolish, boyish trick. And Uncle Phil scratched his head and tried to look boyish, and failed utterly, be cause he already looked so sheepish anil mean. But Mary did just what a warm hearted, clear-headed woman should have done. Hhe kissed Auut Busan affectionately, and said: “ Uncle Phil and John meant to play off a good joke on you, but you have turned the tables finely, and lam doubly glad—first, liecanse I do love to get the best of a joke, and secondly, because I doat on these dear, quaint old things. Why, aunty, you have given me treas ures I Just wait till you see how sweet I’ll make this little place look." And so she did, so quaintly sweet, and altogether charming did the little house grow under her skillful fingers that it be came tbe rage, and the demand for old things was almost as high ill the village as it was in our big city, where some thing always rages. John became a convert at a very early day, and even Uncle Phil said : “ I snum! I didn’t know tho old track could look so kinder scratic.” To which Aunt Busan would reply : “I ollurs knowed 'twas 'ristocratic. Philip.” They are all very happy, and Aunt Susan has long since forgotten and for given John’s little joke. Sleeping-Car Adventures. Anew route has been established to Switzerland. Leaving London at 10 a. m., you find yourself iu the afternoon at Calais ; there you take a train direct to Bale. I had invested the sum of eighteen shillings in a ticket, for the sleeping-car. This car consists of com partments containing either two or four couches. Tho pouch to which my ticket gave me a light was, I found, iu one of the compartments licensed to carry four. Three ladies already were therer when I entered it. To say that I was received cordially would be an exaggeration. The ladies felt that I was an intruder, and, to Hay the truth, being myself a somewhat bashful man, I l'eit so, too. I look my seat. The ladies whispered to cash other, and eyed me as did the nymphs by the streams of Hellas when a shep herd broke iu upon their natatory exer cises. 1 essayed a remark or two about tho weather nud other common-places. The responses wore monosyllabic. In the daytime tlieae compar menta have only two couches facing each other. At night two others are arranged over head, like berths in a ship. We had passed Amiens, when the attendant entered with a number of sheets in his hand. The ladies looked aghast; so did I. One—an elderly spinster—supposed that I was not going to remain, unit thus pre vent her and her companions from taking tha rest for which they had p.dd. A blush sufl'iised my cheek, but l plucked up sufficient courage to hint that I, too, had purted with coin of the realm iu order to enjoy a like repose. Aft* r a chorous of '* Well, I never!” it was fin ally agreed that I should retire into the passage until the ladies hud got into their beds, and druwn the curtums be fore each of their bowers. To Uiis I assented, and having paced the paasago for about half an hour returned. All the curtains were drawn. “ I hope you are not undressing?' proceeded from behind the curtain of the eldeily spin ster. “Ho won't have the impudence to do any thing of the kind," lloatl through the air from behind another curtain. “Ladies," I said, “sleep in maiden mod it at ion behind your cui tains. lam dot tied from head to fixit. I pro pose io divest myself of my cost, aud boots ; 1 shad then climb up iuto my berth, draw my curtain, and you will see nothing m< .roof me until to morrow morning.” “Mind, sir, only yourcoat and boots," said the elderly spinster, aud w ith tliis parting warning 1 turned in. The train was timed to reach Bale at (i a. m. An hour before that time my rest whs disturbed by shrill cries from behind the curtains. I was sternly or dered to get up and go at once into the oorridor, in order that the nymphs might also rise. “No, laities,” I answered, “ I mean to remain in bed until wear rive. Get up without fear, and trust to the innate ehivulry of the humble male who now addresses yon. Ho pledges his word of honor not to peep through the parting in his curtain.” So they got up, and I did not look. My experiences of this night led me to suggest that in sleeping-cars the sexes should be placed apart, and that there should boa separ ate compartment for men aud another for wotuoti, instead of tho present eclec tic arrangement. —Correspondence Lon don Daily News. The First and the Last Shot. James I*. Wulker, who belonged to Company A, Fourth Illinois Infantry during the rebellion, but. who now re sides at Benton, Atascosa County, Texas, semis the following interesting item to the World and Soldier, published at Washington, D. C.: “As there are frequent inquiries about leading characters in ttie ' late unpleas antness,’ I thought I would report the Alpha and Omega of the rebellion. The San Antonio (Texas) £nr says : ‘ The officer who sent the order to open Are on Fort Sumter was Colonel 11. I’. Brewster, Chief of State for Colonel Al bert Sidney Johnston, until that offioer’s death at Pittsburg landing. Colonel Brewster is u hale and hearty old Texas veteran, residing in San Antonio. He said he had forgotten the circumstances of the order uutil he road it in the first volume of the Records of the Rebellion, just published. ’ “Of course ail incident of as small moment as the order for tiring the first gun iu such a rebellion as this one turned out to be would soon escape the memory of the officer issuing it. He is the Alpha The Omega la to lie found iu the person of Captain W. J. L-x-kc, the officer who captured the lust fort, Bingold, Texas, and reoeived the last surrender of the war. He is also hale md hearty, is an Illinoisan by birth, served iu the Texas Legislature after the war, mud is now to be found on his farm four miles north of Sail Antonio, on Almas Creek, engaged in farming and stock raising. OuD Mrs. Harris was never regarded as a paragon of neatness, and, if “o!< an huces is next to godliness," tt is t > l>o feared that the old lady never attain si to the latter state. Not only was she anything bat neat herself, but show. ,t a contempt for it in others. Speaking of neat people one day, she remarked h t her son Ji'siab was one of the most j -sr ticuiar men in the world. ’ Why," said she. “he threw aw‘*y a whole cap o! c. Ice the other mcr.-mg beeainw it had a black bo tie in it.”, ••Axewios," sayw an Englishman, “is s country where a man’s statement is not worth two cents unless backed up sib an I'ffiv to bet yon ten dollars, lit; ua that Uma. Losing Cnate. Women claim that if by force of cir cumstances they are obliged to earn their own living, they are snubbed by fashionable acquaintances. They lose caste. Well, what of that ? Leave your false gentility behind you, and prove to the world that you are not less a lady now that you earn your own bread and butter than you were wheu starving in idleness. This terror of losing caste is a stronger motive w ith women m villages and inland towns than in cities, where the ideas of both men and women are broadened and made healthy by friction with different classes. In all tho villages of the older States, probably, you will find families of single daughters grown old, dependent ou a worn-out fathi r or brothers, who wish and ought to marry, bitt are kept from it by this domestic weight. They are cut to the quick by their humiliation ; the bread of depend ence which they eat is bitter, and, gen erally, scanty; everybody knows their poverty, ami they know that everybody knows it; they are not ashamed to take gifts from more lucky kinsfolk. But they will not work for pay; lot them starve, if needs he, provided they can wrap their gentility about them as a shroud and be buried iu it. But is tliis txue pride? Oa-.ttho heavy burden be hind you forever, and go to work hon orably to relievo your own wants and supply your own needs. By good sense and breeding you can conquer this t. r rible “society,” and by-and*by com mand its homage. Needle— Work • There is something extremely pleas ant, and even touching—at least, of very sweet, soft and winning effect—in this peculiarity of needle-work, distin-' guisliing women from men. Our own sex is incapable of any such by-play aside from the main business, of life; but, women—he they of what earthly rank they may, however gifted with in tellect or genius, or endowed with awful beauty—have always some little handi work ready to fill tho tiny gap of every vacant moment. A needle is familiar to the fingers of them all. A Queen, no doubt, plies it oil occasion; the woman poet can use it adroitly as her pen; the woman’s oye, that has discovered anew star, turns from its glory to send the polished little instrument gloaming along the hem of her kerchief, or to darn a casual fray ill her dress. And they have gicatly tii.* cilvauii.ge of us in this respect. The slender thread of silk or eotton keeps united with the small, familiar, gentle interests of life, tho continually-operating influences of which do so much ior the health of the character, and carry off what would otherwise he a dangerous accumulation of morbid sensibility. A vast deal of human sympathy runs along this elec tric line, stretching from the throne to the wicker-cUpir of the humblest seam stress, and keeping high and low ia iv species of communion with their kindest ln ing. Metliinks it is a token of healthy and gentle characteristics, when women of high thoughts and accomplishments love to sew; especially as they are never more at Lome with tlioir own hearts than . while so occupied. —Nathaniel Hawthorne . an Indian blanket, witu one end drag ging on tho ground. When tho la lies do not go abroad of a morning, tho usual chimney-corner dress is •* dotted, striped or cross barred gown esting. The gown should bo bordered about three inches deep with the most fashionable colored mud that can bo found; the ladies permitted to hold up their trains, after, they have swept two or three streets.*’ Thb shawl scarlet, crimson, orange or any other combust ible color, thrown over one sholder, liko I'anibiniKible Drew*. If the weather bo very cold, a thin muslin gown or frock is most advisable, because it agrees with the season, being jierfectly cool. Tho neck, arms, anil particularly the elbows hare, iu order that they may be agreeably painted and mottli and by Air. John Frost, nosepuinter general, of tho color of Castile soap. Bhoes of kill, the thinnest that can pos sibly lie procured—as they tend to pro mote colds, nuil make a lady look inter n yellowish, smokish-colorod shawl, and the hair curiously ornamented with lit; tie bits of newspaper, or pieces of a let ter from a dear friend. This is called tho “ Cinderella ilresa." For full dress fake of spider-net, crape, satin, gimp, whalebone, lace, ribbons, nnd artificial flowers, ns much ns will rig out the con gregation of a village church ; to these add as many spangles, beads and gew gaws as would be eutti i* nt to turn the heads of all the fashionable fair ones of Nootka Sound. Let Mrs. Toole or Mad ame Bouchard patch all those articles together, ono upon another, dash ttiem plentifully over with stars, bugles and tinsel, and they will altogether form a dress, which, if huug upon a lady’s back, cannot fail of supplying the place of beauty, youth and grace, anil of re minding the spectator of that celebrated region of finery called rag fair.— IVasA ington Irving. The American Girl. Here is a pen-and-ink sketch of an American girl, which is interesting as showing how a Yankee girl seems to French eyes: “Stylish to the back b me. Independent as independent can lie, but very pure. Is devoted to pleas ure, dress, spending money; shows her moral nature nude, jnst as it ss, so as to deceive nobody. Flirts all winter with this or that one, and dismisses him in the spring, when she instantly catches another. Goes out aloue. Travels alone. When the fancy strikes her she travels with a gentleman friend or walks anywhere with him; puts boundless confidence in him ; conjugal intimacy seems to exist between them. She lets him tell what he feels—talk of love from morning till night—but she never gives him I'onni-s'.oti to kiss so much as her hand. He mav say anything; he shall do nothing. She is restless ; she gives heart and soul to amusement before she marries. After marriage she is a mother annually ; is aloue all day ; hears all night nothing except discussions about patent machinery, unexplosive petro leum, chemical manures. Sie then will let her slaughters enjoy the liberty she used without grave abuse. As nothing serious happen**! to her, why should Fanny, Mery au 1 Jrnuy be less strong and less adroit than their mother ? She originates French fashions. Parisian women detest her. Provincial women despise her. Men of all countries adore her, but will n- 't mat tv her unless she lies an immense fortune. Her hair is vermilion, paler than golden hair; her black eyes are bold and lrank : she has a patent shape which ‘tis forbidden to counterfeit ; spread* herself m a car riage as if she wert in a hammock—the natural and thoughtless posture of her passion for luxurious ease. When she walks she moves briskly and throws every glance right and lost; gives many of her thoughts to herself and few of them hr any bo tv else. Sue is a wild plant pat in a hot-house ; fee's cramped i’ Europe, and pu la’s her branches through the pane- without the least 1 **? of tV V : 1 i’• • v-'-’tfttc 'on ali sale* wi her. \Vvc tee WtiwT tu** derstood, were she criticised less, she would Ire esteemed ut her true value.” Mr*. Jouci’ Rapture Over a Full- Uouuet. As Jones went out from breakfast Mrs. Jones followed him to the door aud pinned a button-hole bouquet on the lappel of ids coat. He missed that car, but stood patiently until the flowers were adjusted. “And you won’t forget the peaches for pickling ?" said his wife, tenderly, aa she brushed the dandruff off his coat collar. j “ No-o,” answered Jones, mechanical- ! ly. He saw Brown going off in his buggy alone, and was sorry to miss tha chance. “ And a pound of mutton chops for supper, and some tomatoes ?” “ Ye e-s; anything else, darling?” Mrs. J.’s two hands met at the back of his neck ill a caressing motion that Jones had rather enjoyed twenty years previous. Now it gave him a sense of dislocation in his spinal column. “ Weil, Joneaey, dear, you know you didn’t like my last fall bonnet, and as you have such good taste I thought may be you would call at Madame H—'s on your way down aud order me one your very own self, deary.” Just then the car passed. Jones said he w ould see about it, received a ki-s, ran a block and narrowly escaped being thrown under the car wheels, and Mrs. Jones looked after him with a smile that was three?quarters bouuet and the bal ance conjugal; but when Mr. Jones re turned in the evening and she met him at the gate the smile was purely conju gal and angelic. “Did you order the bonnet, dear ?” she asked, radiantly. For a moment Jones was stricken dumb, but when was mortal man ever known to fail at invention ? He sup ported her with one arm while he broke the new r s gently. ''Darling,” he said, “I called four times to see Madame H , and each time she had just stepped out. I hung around until I was afraid people would talk; and just as I was coming away the last time I met her. She said -—she said—let me see—oh, she said she would prefer to measure you for that bonnet herself. She thought if you had one of the new terra-cotta combinations of mahogany and hard wood with bric a-brac attachments and a polonaise front it might be trimmed with Brazilian bugs and Chinese lanterns, with stands of So man punch and lawn-tennis ruchings fastened on by royal Bengal tigers. Why, what’s the matter, love ?” For Mrs. Jones had fainted from ex cess of happiness—the Aworipiion of that bonnet was too, too much. Anatomical Analysis—The Stomach. TJtc stomach is the best friend of man, but lie uses it as if it was his worst enemy. It is supposed to hold about three pints, hut if a man can’t put four quarts iu it he feels disappointed and “hun gry.” When a mnu gets hold of anything lie don’t know what to do with he puts it iu ids stomach and taken all the risks. And lie never learns any better, though he ;.uiL.rs the torments of the unblest ever after. It is generally considered that the stomach is a hopper luto which anything can he thrown, with the assurance that (he digestive machinery, will take care of it. This is not so. Fried shingle nails and fricussed hair pins will not as similate with the human system any easier than leathery flapjacks or lobster salad and milk. It is erroneous to suppose that when the stomach is packed with solid food of seventeen different varieties it is capable f holding several quarts of different sorts of liquid. It will fail to make a comfortable feeling swill tub of itself. “The older a stomach grows the Wronger it is,” is an error. A ten year old stoma li will get away with green apples and peanuts, shells and all, while Ia ! a ty-yesr-ohi stomach will simply got uway with itself and ail that’s in it. It is useless to attempt to pave the in side of the stomach with conglomerate. Nothing hut the best Belgian pavement should be used, and that should be thor oughly masticated. You can cat Belgian just as safely as you can a thousand tlongs you do eat. In making a beer vat of your stomach, under tho impression that you will thus become a walking brewery you will find out your mistake. You will merely put on a buy window which will be expen sive to live up to. A sea voyage is an excellent revelation of the capacity of the stomach. There is no danger of losing it. altogether iu the process, though you frequently feel the fastenings break. A few hours on land will bring it toits “hungry.” The first thing a man does when liis stomach feels bad is to put some medi cine in it to make it feel worse. He is looking ahead for the happy contrast when it will possibly feel better. The more medicine a man puts into his stomach the more that organ seems to crave, and the more money the patent medicine mnu gets to circulate his ill looking portrait in tlie newspapers. Occasionally a stomach is obliged to go empty. If those who overfeed them selves were obliged to fill these empty stomachs with the surplus they eat, and don’t need, there would be no starvation in these parts. Don’t mistake your stomach for a re ceptacle of everything that tastes good, but use it rationally, treat it. to gentle doses of strength-giving, nutritious food, moderate quantities of milk drink, ex hilarating exercise, a little fresh air oc casionally, and yon will reach that happy elevation of good health and spirits which will render you totally oblivious of the fact that you have a stomach at all. A man who is thoroughly aware of the presence of his stomach is not well.— New Haven Register. Having a Twelve Hundred Dollar Time. “ You want to know, do yon my sou,” said the old man, “ why it is with all your mangement, you can't live on your sa ary and are always in debt at the end of the year? Well, I’ll tell you, Tele niachus’ why it is, and it won’t cost you a dollar for"the information. It is be cause you are trying to have a $1,200 time on a SOOOt-alary, and it can’t be did. Older mer than you have tried it and foiled rL-ht along. A S6OO lxiardiug-house and a S3“O livery stable just extetly cuts the last coupon off yonr salary, and then how the man who makes yonr clothes t xpoets to get any thing out of you is more than you can tell him. Yours is a Mrv simple case, my dear, and yon can apply the remedies yourself, and per ■ rm" the necessary operations without the presence of a consulting surgeon. • Will it hurt ?’ My poor boy. yen can bet your last bottom dollar that it will hark. It w ill make you squirm a thou sand time;, a day, ’until you get out c-f deb t, and then you’ll feel as though you we,"e in Paradise. Begin treatment at oroe; the longer yon wait the worse your case will be and thb more you U oread it.” T.cr the -c who judge the charsctar of o ... i .iuUi iu.iid liic* own ua- The Honest, Very Honest Merchant. A tall voung man of twenty years landed at the Union Depot with a bun dle under his arm, and after three or four minutes spent in getting his bearings he walked up Jefferson avenue and tinned into a clothing store. "Do you viah to try on some coats aud wests for a dollar,” asked the pro prietor, as he rushed from behind tho ton n ter. “No, I guess not. Do you deal on the square ?" “ My frent, dot is exactly vhat I docs. I vas so square dot I lose $3,000 last year. Can I sell you an oafereoat for ten dollar?” “No, I guess not. Here is an over coat that I bought of you four weeks ago.” "Bought of me? ' 1 Yes, I think you are the man. When I got it home we found it was moth eaten. I can pick it to pieces in a dozen places.” “Is dot bossible! Und how much you pay ?” “Eight dollars.” “My sthars? Aud vhat you want now?” “I want my money back.” “ Vhell-—vhell. My frent, I am sorry for you. You seem like an honest poy, and it vhas too bad.” “Yes, it was a swindle, and I want my money back.” “Dear me, but I vish you vhas here yesterday! Let me oxplain to you. You bought dot coat four weeks ago?” “Yes, four weeks to-day.” “ Vhell, I had sold oudt to my cousin Philip shust one day before. Philip is not a square man.” ‘ ‘ What have I got to do with Philip ?” “Let me oy.p'ain. In dree days Philip makes an assignment to my brad-, (ler Louis. Dot Louis is a leetle off. He would sheat your eye-teeth away from you. ” “Yes, but I liavn’t anything to do with Louis.” “Let me oxplain. Louis kept der place a week, und he gif a shattel mort gage to my fadder-law, and vhas bounced out. ” “ I do not know anything abont that.” “Let me oxplain. My fadder-law vhas took mit a fit and u ed, and he leaf dis blace to my wife. My wife vhas gone to Europe for two years, and she leaf me as agent. Now you see how it vhas. I gannot tell you who sold you dot coat. May be it vhas Philip, may be Louis, may be my fadder-law. It couldn’t liaf been me, for T yh°= Oiiicfi£ro Tf j’ou it’iiVG dot coat X vhill write to my wife. She is square, shust like me, and may be she writes back dot you can take a linen duster and two white wests and call it all right.” “Say, this is a sneaking swindle,” exclaimed the young man. “ May bo it. Vhas. Philip was a great liar.” “I’ll go to the police l”! “ Vhell, dot isli all right; may be de police vhill help me catch Louis. I shust found oudt last night dot he cut all der hind buttons off all der coats in der store before he left. ” “If you’ll step out-doors, I’ll mash you 1” “Vhell, I like to oblige, but you See I vhas only agent for my wile.’’ “ Well, you'll hear from me again, aud don’t you forget it!” said the victim as be went out. “ I hopo so—l hope so. I like to make it all right. I vhas only agent for my wife, but I feel so square dot I take dot | coat back for tree dollars, if youvhant I to trade it out in paper collars.”—De ; froit Free Press. An Encounter. The boys may l>e interested in the de scription of a combat in Maine as pub lished iu the Boston Journal, between a puma aud two young men who were hunting partridges in the vicinity of the Medomac Pond. They came suddenly upon a panther, and is would be difficult to tell whether they or he were the most frightened. The puma, after giving a terrible growl, slowly retreated, when one of the sports •nen, Prof. A. E. Jones, of Washington, fired at him, the shot taking effect in his side. i Tliis only served to inflame his anger. Turning quickly, he came with mighty liouuds straight at tho sportsmen. They imd only time to fire one shot when the animal w as upon them. With a leap ho crushed Prof. Jones to the ground, when his companion, E. B. Stickney, with wonderful quickness, inserted a shell into his gun, and placed the muzzle against the animal’s head, discharged it and killed the animal in stantly. Mr.’ .tones owes his life to the nerve and coolness of his friend. He was for tunate in escaping with only a few slight scratches on the lower limbs, and a large gash ou the breast which leaves a scar he will carry to his grave. Several farmers in the neighborhood have lately found the mangled remains •fa number of their sheep aud lambs, and tliis animal had probably destroyed (hem. The panther measured six feet and four inches from tip to tip, having claws nearly two inches long. An Honest Restaurant. “Waiter, what is this?” It was a man sitting at a table digest ing that hallucinating dream, that mockery of restaurant mockeries, a mo dern oyster stew. Calling the white aproned darkey to his side, he pointed down into the dish and said : “ Waiter, what in this ?” “I beg yah pawdon, sail?” queried tlie waiter. “ This thing must be investigated. It appears that you have given me an oyster stew with an oyster in it. Come, this is hardly fair. And lam a stranger, too.” “Hey?” asked the puzzled waiter. “I repeat, you have given me an oyster stew with an oyster in it. Must I pay anything extra for the oyster?” “ No—why—” “ Well, that’s all right; I’m glad of it.” smiled the stranger, straightening up. "Only, I don’t see how von can make any money at that rate. You pay a dollar a gallon" for oysters and then sell stews at sixty cents. That's barely living profit, whereas if you put an oyster in the stew—well, it beats me how you can afford to do it. I suppose you’ll be put ting chicken in chicken salad, ham in ham sandwiches, and veal in veal pie, next. Then you’ll be so rash as to givo a nmn a clean napkin, besides putting vinegar in the vinegar castor when it's run out. You folks will bust up with kindness if you’re not careful.”—Wil liamsport Breakfast Table. The old proverbs are great things. At least some folks think they are. One of them says : “ A man cannot bite tho bottom out of a frying-pan without smutting hisno6e.” Now what is there clever or renurkable about that ? If it had said that a man cannot bite the bot tom out of his nose without smutting the frying-pan, or that a min can’t bite the smut off the pan without frying his nose, or something like that, there would be something to it to interval and BITS OF INFORMATION. The title of Czar was fht applied u Ivan 111., 1482. The elephant was put upon the coin* of Cleanr because that animal was call*,] Coizar in Mauritauria. The first college established in Amer ica was the Harvard College, in 1688. It received its name from the founder John Harvard, The term Quaker wm first applied to the sect in derision. When George Fox the founder, was brought before the magistrate lie told hint to quake befor* the word of tho Lord. Armorial t tourings became hereditary in families at the close of the twelfth century. They took their rise from the knights painting their banners with dif ferent figures, and were employed by the Crusiders to distinguish noblemen in battle. The finest emeralds come from South America, principally Peru. The largest and most perfect emerald in the world is said to be owned by Annie Loniee Cary. It weighs twenty-three carats, ie set in a Roman gold band, studded with di*. monels, aud is valued at $50,000. The Vice Presidents of the United States were as follows : John Adam*, Thomas Jefferson, Aaron Burr, George Clinton, Elbridge Gerry, Daniel D, Tompkins, John Caldwell Calhoun, Mar tin Van Buren, Richard Mentor John son, John Tyler, George Mifflin Dallas, Millard Fillmore, William Rufus King, John Cabell Breckinridge, Hannibal Hamlin, Andrew Johnson, 3ohuyler Col fax, Henry Wilson, William A Wheeler and Chester A. Arthur. Tite origin of the expression of “ Hob eon’s choice” is as follows: Tobias Hobson was the first man in England who let out hackney horses. When a man came for a horse he was led into the stable, where there was a great choice, but he obliged him to take the hor e which stood next to the stable door, so that every customer was alike well served, according to his chance. Hence it became a proverb, when what ought to be your election was forced upon you, to say, “ Hobson’s choice.” Paton says that “although the term brass frequently occurs in scripture from the era of Job downward, there is no indication that brass, as known in mod ern times, was in use previous to the period of the Roman empire.” In Mo- Chntock andStrong’s flic authorized version of the Old Testa ment, but doubtless inaccurately, as brass is a factitious metal, and thp He brews were not acquainted with the com pound of copper and zinc known by that name. Iu most places of the Old Testa ment the correct translation would be copper, although it may sometimes pos sibly menu bronze, a compound of cop per and tin, as in the Chaldee form used by Daniel. Indeed, ft simple metal was obviously intended, as we sec froiii Deut. viii., 9.,'* Out of whose hills thou may est dig brass ;’ and Job. xxyiii.,2, ‘Brass is molten out of the stone ;’ and Deut. xxxiii., 25, ‘Thv shoes shall be iron and brass,’ which seems to be a promise that Asher should have a district rich iu mines, which we know to have been the case, since. Eusebius speaks of the Christians lieing condemned to work iu them. Some such alloy as bronze w probably also the metal denoted in th* New Testament” Big Hailstones. Hailstones vary greatly in site. Iu ordinary storms they "ary from folly six to 120 grains. It may he interesting to notice some of the largest on record. Holinshed (who is, however, a persist ent wondermonger i says that hailstones as large as eggs fell iu England in the year 1202, during the reign of John; and that :’n tho twentieth year of that by good King Alexander IIL of Scotland (1269) there arose “great winds, with storms of sncli immeasurable hailstonos that many towns were thrown down” by their violence, and fires spread through out the, kingdom, “ burning up steeples with such force of fire that the bells were in divers places molted.” Those of the Abbey of Aberbrothock (Arbroath) were thus destroyed. In 1339, wliilo Edward 111. was marching near Char tres, in France, his army was so much injured by a storm of immense hailstones that he concluded peace. Count de Mezeray relates that when Louis XIL of France made war against the Pope and carried his army into Italy (1510) bluish hailstones descended during a thunder storm which weighed about 100 pounds! On June 21, 1545, there fell in Lanca shire “ hailstones as big as men’s fists, which hal diverse prints in them, some like gnnholes.” On the 7th of June, 1572, in Northamptonshire, some were found which measured six inches in cir cumference; and on the 28th of April, 1697, a storm passed over Cheshire and Lancashire, during which hailstones weighing eight ounces and measuring nine inches in circumference fell. Hert fordshire, May 4, same year, was visited by a hailstorm which killed several per sons. The stones were fourteen inches in circumference. M. Parent relates that hailstones as big as a man’s fist and weighing from nine and one-half to twelve and three-fourths ounces fell in Lc Pe.rche on May 15, 1703. Passing over ninny recorded and perhaps doubt ful inst. t nets snob as the above, we learn that during a hailstorm at Constanti nople on Oct. 5, 1831, there fell stones weighing more than one pound. Simi lar stones are said to have been picked up in May, 1821, at Palestrina, Italy. Blocks of ice fell at Cazorta, in Spain, on Juno 5, which weighed four and one half pounds; and in the South of France, during the latter part of October, 1844, some fell which weighed eleven pounds. After a hailstorm on May 8, 1802, iu Hungary, a piece of ice was found which measured more than three feet, both in length and in width, with a thickness of two and a quarter feet. To conclude this list, a hailstone is said to have fallen in the reign of Tippoo Saib which was the size of an elephant. It is possible that many of those so-called gigantic hail stones were simply masses of ice com posed of a collection of hailstones ag glomerated together in some hollow space into which they had fallen, and where they may have remained for some time after the general fall of hailstones had melted and disappeared.—Cham ber*' Journal. thtontlH woolen manufacturers owe a debt of gr&trtnde to a certain Dutchman named John'P' Trttxv who, some 500 rears a.? ', accompanied Pliilipvina, id Hsin sult, when she le:t her native Flanders to become the bride of King Edward lIL At that time the English exported their wool, and received it back from Holland in the shape of cloth, and, until the aforesaid John Rempe set about estab lishing a cloth manufactory, not a yard of the woven material worn in England was made at home. To encourage the infant industry which Kempe established in England, King Edward 111. enacted a law forbidding his subjects to wear cloth sot of English manufacture. A MvrnttTof cor"-Xpp!e. A mutter of coorsa—hens! 1 Kt, -ing. A matter oI * bitflj-rtww txxH to w,