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L L BOHEMIA'S LAND. A Song of the Season. Which Is the way lrom the crowded city, To a land of shadow and silent peace, Where women can love and men can pity, And tears from sorrowing eyes may cease ? For the tolling town Is harsh and hollow, And hale points eastward, envy west; Though manv may fall, yet some will follow To a home of dreams and the haven rest. For the love of heaven, stretch forth your hand, And point the way to Bohemia’s land. Whe*-e are the fields and their emerald cover, The wayside flowers aDd travelling cart, The new-lound love and the long-tried lover ? . They are better by far than our feverish art, We are sick unto death ol Jealousy’s letter, The secret digger, the ceaseless strife; There’s triumph in fame, but lreedom’s bet ter ; Bo give us a taste of a wandering life. The senses sicken as fancy’s hand Paints endless love in Bohemia’s land. Bohemia’s ways are strewn with flowers, H>r children free from the revel of wine; Her dual is s’aked by the sweetened showers, 'Neath covering trees they toast and dine. When care creeps close, why away they wan der To seek whatever the mind loves best; For hope endures when the heart sees yonder A purer life and a surer rest. Hew many despise, but how few with stand, The ceaseless joys of Bohemia's land. To the fields away t for Nature presses On toiling foreheads a balmy kiss; There’s nothing so sweet as her wild caresses, No love more lull to the lips than this. God grant, my brothers, when all Is over, And holiday hours cut short by fate, That the seuse ol flowersand scent of clover. May solten sorrow and silence hate, Old Time soon meashres the fatal sand. And the curtain falls on Bohemia’s land. —[Clement Scott. Mrs. Davenport's Dilemma. Mr. Davenport hated society, but Mrs. Davenport adored it, and so like amiable married people they agreed to differ, and each to go their own way, quite cordially enjoying, after the battle was over, narrating to each other what had happened, and count ing up the dead and wounded. When Mrs. Davenport was very young Mr. Davenport had carefully accompanied her to her carriage, and sent her maid to take care of h(r, and had himself sat up to receive her when she re turned. But as she grew older this sensitive care relaxed, and as he found that she was quite content to go alone, he allowed her to do so,'with the family coachman on the box. She in her turn was entirely determined that he should not be deprived of his natu ral rest, but should allow some lesser and more youthful satellite to sit up and watch for her as she came home late from opera or ball. There had been talk of a night key, but Mrs. Davenport thought that looked too masculine, and she also had a suspicion that she should never learn how to use it. It U a secret difficult of solution to the feminine mind, that of a latch key. So Mrs. Davenport, strong in the confidence of her husband’s love, serene of con science, and enjoying the devotion of a large family of servants, who loved her, went off to Mrs. Appleby’s ball, on the evening of November 12tb, looking lovely. The bail was a large and tine one, and Mrs. Davenport enjoyed it. She would have left at one o’clock, but that Herr von Dergmans, the German philologist, was presented to her, and 1 talked so well, and was so evidently inspired by her bright eyes, that she |^ayed on; and then the hostess had ^e great singer, Larumburmani, who Bust be spoken to in Italian, and Kirs. Davenport spoke Italian with "the true Tuscan purity. So she left the ball very late. Stiek- nell, her coachman, was sleepy and cross, and af er depositing her at her number (which is thirty-nine by the way) he drove off very quickly. It was a flue night. Mrs. Davenport liked to look at the stars, and she ,zed up admiringly, almost regretting k ve a scene which decidedly paltd irnamentation of the ball room ig she had just left. Was destined to see a great deal if these same stars than she had tined for on that particular night, oman ! rung sharply. $fobody came, •ang, rang again and again, but ly came. Mrs. Davenport began |1 chilly about the feet, which delicately clad in white satin and silk stockings, wrapped her fur clock about her [ooked up at number thirty-nine, n familiar brownstone house. ;n of movement, although the id in the hall. She rang and response. And then she ’that she was looked out, that ly was asleep, and thtdtthere ^ stay the rest of thwight, •ered, jtlas, too IsA. that tlenian of African descent, who had been known to go to sleep on these night watches, to let her in. Now he seemed to be sunk in the deepest obli vion. But then, if Orlando slept, some one else had generally waked, and either roused him, or let her in, individually. Mrs. Davenport shud dered. A night on her own front steps! She kept on ringing desperately. Presently a policeman came along, and to him she appealed. “ Oh, got a key ?” said he. “ Let me help unlock the door.” “ But I have not got a key,” said the miserable woman. “Bad, bad,” said the officer. “I never knew them to wake up. How ever, I will rap for you.” So he pounded the blinds with his club aqd made a terrible noise. Two or three heads looked out of the oppo site windows. One invalid raised a window and begged that her rest might not be ruined. “ Lady locked out,” sang the police man. “ Well, is that any reason why you should try to wake the dead?” asked the irate clergyman opposite. The policeman walked on, leaving Mrs. Davenport in despair. “ Haven’t you any mends in this neighborhood?” he asked. “ I should think not,” said she fee bly. t She drew her fur cloak about her and sat down on the door mat. She had not regarded that useful article in the light of a divan before; now she was glad of even that medium between herself and the cold doorstep. To weep would not mend the matter; to ring and pound, and rattle the blinds was useless. "Everybody was asleep. She had been forgotten. She, the core of the whole thing, the mainspring of that establishment. Her husband and children and her servants had, each trusting to somebody else, gone to bed and forgotton her. She looked up at the moon and stars, at Jupiter and at several other illustroius denizsns of the sky, and found them cold and unsympathetic. She began to think of her sins, and feared that she had not been suffi ciently kind to homeless outcasts. Even the cats, who were the only peo ple abroad in her quiet street, came in for her sympathy. “ They have a hard time, poor things,” said she, “always locked out.” It was a cat, however, who gave her an idea.' Evidently a predatory Arab of a cat who thought he owned her front steps, for after stealthily creep ing up and finding her in possession, he leaped on to a neighboring bal cony. She looked after him, “Dr. Montgomery’s—and a speak ing tube !” said she. “ Why did I not remember that before!” Mrs. Davenport drew up her long yellow satin train, laid her fan and handkerchief on the doorstep, and as fast as high heels and satin slippers would allow, went dowD her own steps and up those of her neighbor who lived at thirty-seven. “ He is a doctor accustomed to be awakened at all hours,” said she. She rang and heard a sleepy voice come down. “ What do you want ?” “ Help! help 1” said she. “What help? Who? What num ber?” a^ked the doctor. “Thirty-nine; great trouble! Im mediate!” said Mrs.-Davtnport. The doctor seemed to b > hours in coming down. She was nearly in despair again, but at length he opened the door in his heavy overcoat and hat. “Oh, doctor! doctor! let me in!” said the lady, now quite h>sterical. “Your house is warm, do let me in,” The doctor was, of course, aston ished to see his fashionable neignbor, but hospitable and helpful. “Wll| you go up and knock at the partition wall in your front room, doc tor, and try to wake Mr. Davenport?” said Mrs. Davenport, now ill tetfis. “ Yes, madam, if you say so. But had you not better spend the night here?” “What, next jdoor to thirty-nine I Oh, no! I could not, I must go home. Please, doctor, if it will not disturb Mrs. Montgomery, do go up and make a dreadful noise at the bead of Mr, Davenport’s bed ; it leans up against your parlor, for he always hears your piano,” , . The doctoT obeyed, and knooked loudly on the wall. Mr. Davenport heard a distant thun der in his dreams, turned over, with his deaf ear up and slept again. ing, Mrs. Davenport consented to al low the sleepy doctor to retire to.his well-earned repose, whilst she declared that she would rest as well as she could in an easy chair down in his consulting room. Thirty-seven, thirty-nine and fortj’- one were at peace at last, and Mrp. Davenport, wrapped in her cloak and in a warm room iu the house of a neighbor and a friend, grew composed, and finally laughed at her adventure. It would be a good joke next morning; but as for Orlando, her colored waiter, there was a lookout for him of the blackest! Then poor Mr. Davenport, how alarmed he would be ! But she would watch and see the servants begin to open the house, and steal in before he waked up. So saying, she fell sound asleep in the chair. At length, Mr. Davenport, like all heavy sleepers, woke up suddenly and entirely. Ha did not know why, but it seemed to him that he had a dis turbed night. As he lay tiying to col lect his faculties, he heard the clock strike four. “How quiet Coralie is !”said Mr. Davenport; “tired after fhe ball, I suppose.” Mr. Davenport listened to hear, through the open door and curtained recess, the quiet breathing of his wife in the next room. She was strangely still, and Mr. Davenport arose softly and crept in to see what could be the matter. “Heavens!” said he; “ nobody in the bed! Coralie not home at four o’clock!” Mr. Davenport paused a moment. Could the horses have run away? Could the coachman have been drunk? That had happened before. Could his poor wife have been thrown, dragged —no, the idea was too horrible. Could she have been locked out. He felt the cold perspiration start on his brow. He rang every bell in the house; be proceeded to dress himself. He danced, In his agony and agitation. Then, as his sleepy servants began to appear and one after the other dis claimed any knowledge of their mis tress, he descended to the front door. There lay Mrs. Davenport’s fan, hand kerchief and gloves. She had been home; she had failed to gain admit tance ; she had either been ruthlessly carried off, or she had committed sui cide. Mr. Davenport lost his head. “ She may have gone to her sister's or to some hotel,” said her maid. “ What, at three in the morning, you wretched sleepy head I” said Mr, Davenport wildly. To discharge Orlanda, to go for the police, to rouse the world, these were his first ideas. He rang up every sig nal officer in town. The whole ma chinery of public service was at work to find the missing lady. Mr. Davenport went after his coach man w’lio, though fully testifying to the fact that he had been drunk, could swear that he left the lady at her own door, at about half-past two iu the morning. To take a carriage, to drive to Mrs. Davenport’s sister’s, to all the hotels, these were toe duties which the wretched mau took upon himself. In the meantime Mrs. Davenport slept sweetly iu the doctor’s arm chair uutil the housemaid coming in, ut tered a loud sliritk aud cried— “Bibbers!” To pacify her, to rouse herself, to step, nut of the doctor’s front door and into her own house was the work of a moment. Mrs. Davenport found all of her people at home and thoroughly awake, but where was Mr. Davenport? Knowing his temperament, Mrs. Da venport felt sure that he would not return until he had dragged the E ist river. She was at home, all right, and proceeded like a culm woman to get off' her ball dress, satin shoes and silken hose, and to put on her dress ing-gown, take a cup of tea, get warm and then reflect upon what should be done with Mr. Davenport’s esse. “ It will all be in the papers,” said her prescient soul. “ This very even ing at the farthest; I will telegraph everywhere,” she remarked, ringing for a messenger hoy. ‘ “tlello!” said a man at the signal station; “ this is queer! Here is a man trying to find his wife, and now there oumes along a woman trying to find her husband, and they are both named—Davenport.” “ I dare say—nothing to each other -common name—coiqcideuce,” said the telegraph operator, who had learned to talk in jerks. “ Let me see the number ?” said tA sigpal man. . “ Thirty-nine. Yes; It Is the same queer case!” Wonder what iu all means?” before gard man was found standing on the brink of East river hugging a fan, a pair of gloves and a handkerchief. When he was taken home, after the usual expressions of mingled affectious and disgust, anger, joy, reproach and great contentment, which all married pairs will remember, and furnish fer themselves, Mrs. Davenport remarked, plaintively: “ Why did you not think of Dr. Montgomery’s, and the speaking tube?” “ I don’t know why I never thought of it; how did you happen to, Coralie ?” “It was the cat!” exclaimed Mrs. Davenport, gratefully. Mr. Davenport, unwilling to trust to this somewhat uncertain benefaC' tor, had a bell put in which now rings in the garret, and a speaking tube which communicates with his own room ; aud Mrs. Davenport carries to all the balls now a large and inconve nient latch-key. Instructive. Ants may be easily destroyed by dis solving sugar of lead in water, and moistening brown sugar with the solu tion. The sugar is then spread upon pieces of paper or shavings, and these are scattered about where the ants run. C. W. states that the green fly upon house plauts can be disposed of by sprinkling weak tobacco water on the plants. Its Origin.—The Chinese are very expert in telliug the time of day by looking in the cat’s eyes. They will run to the nearest cat, open her eyes, and at once tell what time it is, all depending upon the size of the aperture of the pupil of the eye, which is affected by the position of the sun and the character of the light, even when the day is cloudy. This method probably gave rise to the well-known nursery rhyme: Hickory, dickory, dock. The mouse ran up the clock. Weather Wisdom.—When you wish to know what the weather is to be, go out and select the smallest cloud you can see. Keep you eye upon it, and if it decreases and disappears, it shows a state of the air that is certain to be followed by fair weather; but if it increases in size, take your great coat with you, if you are going from home, for falling weather is not far off. The reason is this : When the air is becom ing charged with electricity, you see every cloud attracting all lesser one3 toward it, until it gathers into a show er ; and, on the contrary, when the fluid is passing off, or diffusing itself, then a large cloud will be seen br iak- Lng into pieces and dissolving. Medical Attendance by Tele phone —A few evenings ago a physi cian of North Adams, Mass., was called by telephone about one o’clock at night. The call came from Briggs, about two miles away. A child was there suffering with croup, and in a critical condition. The night was dark and stormy, and the doctor found nothing pleasant in the contemplation of the trip which he was asked to make. When preparing to go out into Ihe darkness and rain, his mind con ceived a bright thought, which was immediately followed by act. He called the Briggsville house in which the little sufferer lay, and requested the pareuts to bring it to the telephone transmitter. This was done. The child coughed its croupy cough, and the doctor listeued iutently to every sound that came from his patient. He piescribed a remedy, and owe of the family prepared and administered it. The relief was immediate and the re covery rapid. The doctor waited at the telephone uutil he heard of the fa vorable results of his prescription, and then sought again the repose of his couch, pronouncing blessings on the inventor of the telephone. Startling Announcement. The editor of a certain weekly paper within a h ndred miles of this city makes a practice of “stopping the press to announce” if he had nothing of more importance to announce than “a dog fight.” One eveuing^rery- thing was dull as a patent ofliceSport, but the ruling passion cropped out as follows: *4Ye stop the press to an nounce th^L nothing has occurred since we to pre«s of sufficient interest to us to stop thelfcress to annoum William tractor^ appe ride, a prol tinnd cil The Age of Great Expectation It is perfectly true that our age has a thousand times the resources of any that preceded it, but the question still, remains, “Does it use them to a thiur sand times better purpose?” He must be indeed a sturdy optimist who can^ bring himself to answer that question in the affirmative. That it is an age of great opportunities there can be no doubt; that it is not simply what critics like Carlyle and Mr. Buskin 1 have represented it to be: “the age of money-bags and cant, soot, hubbub and ugliness,” may be granted ; nor need it be denied that in such high matters as science, religion and social organization “great things are in the air.” But in theie respects it can only be called at best ‘the age of great expectations,” and great ex pectations are sometimes very slow in getting realized, after the precedent of Mr. Micawber. We may perhaps be on the eve of the millenium, but as yet we discern no signs of the dawn. There is one very simple way of test ing the comparative moral value of our progress. Of the sudden and enormous change in our external and material life between 1782 and 1882, a change beyond all example or idea or expecta tion of any previous period in the world’s history, there can be no man ner of doubt. But it may well be ques- ., tioned if England was not as much | wiser, stronger, and better in 1782 than in 1682, and iu 1682 than 1582, as it is better now than in 1782 ; and if we were to go further back the change in these respects would be still more noticeable. Or again, compare Eng land with other European countries; the material progress has been very much more rapid hero than anywhere else, while in some countries, liljjl Spain, there has been hardly any a, t all. “Has the relative position of these' nations in the scale of true civilization altered so much? Not at all!” If from moral we pass to scientific pro gress, it is obvious that to place the marvelous tools of modern science be side those used by Copernicus or Gall] leo would be like putting a moderi ironclad by the side of a Chinese junk.l But will it be pretended that in sci entific genius the age even of Faraday and Darwin towers above that Newton and Herschel, or of Bacc Liebnitz and Descartes? “You mt raise your mechanical apparatus o! science a thousandfold, you do not double your scientific genuis once.” Still less could it be plausibly main, tained that we have advanced in phil osophy or in art, or in the quality of 1 our literature, immense as is the I increase in quantity, when the press turns out more matter in legible type every day than in Dr. Johnson’s time it turned out in a year, or in Shakes peare’s time in a century. We have not excelled Mozart or Beethoven in music, or Beynolds and Gainesbor- ough in painting, not to speak of the] great painters of au earlier agt% “Wg are as much superior in material pliances to the men of Milton’ aud Newton’s day,as they were to" glians or Zulus. Are we equally si, perior in cultivation of brain, heart character, to the contemporaries Milton and Newton ?” It may perhaps be argued that, if n] serious claim can be preferred to anj moral superiority at all corresponding to our huge material advance, we have al least gained much in all that add] to the grace ^ni charm, “the bloomi ocial life.” But such a claim is haw more admissible than the other, it really be maintained that life a hun. dred or two hundred years ago, befc.' steam, electricity or photography ex-,,1 isted, was so cramped aud helpless a thing, so borne and ill provided? “Somehow it was not.” In some ways indeed, this very same material ad vance, with all the hurry aud skurn of modern life—if such a phruse maj l>e allowed—has served to rub off thf bloom, as Mr. W. B. Greg was nevej tired of reminding us. Edward Wiser, 41 years old, a work man in a wood-turning shop in West Twenty-Fourth street, New York, was caught in the shafting of the maoliinery aud had bothhis legs broken, besides BUBtalflUaMkumin- ternal injuries, aud hospital in a dying condit The Supreme Lodge of Knights oil Honor at its session at Baltimore' adopted measures locating the general headquarters of the Order pamia-, nently at Louisville, Ky., and remoy^ the office of the Supreme Tres ' om SpriusA^^md ol • Beporterl