I was having my ï¬ll of fashionahh life. A band’s-breadth from me then were diamonds flashing, there wen priceless silks gleaming and trailin; along a polished floor, there wen lights and perfume and music, and 2: splendid company, smiling and grace- ful and gracious, were going througL the ï¬gures of a quedrille. Otherr were promenading; others were chat- ting in gay groups. Just past thx window where I stood, a pair of them radiant creatures swept at this mo ment, the lady coquetting with he) jewelled fan. I. could have put fortl my hand and touched her as she pass- ed -so near, and yet so far apart from me. 'A stately picture, set in a, cost- ly frame, having nothing in common with such every-day, toil-worn folk: as the rustics Who stood looking on from without, and among whom J 3.001 and. I, lured by the lights and music, had stolenrup. _ .m 1, .4... ~--_-__ It was the piazza. of the grand. 110- tel at Laurel Spring, and a. grand bah was in progress. Ah, how bewtifm it all was ‘2 It seemed like a kaleido scope of jewels, flashing,changing, n.1- luring, as I stood there at the window looking through. How should 1 look in just such a silk ‘2 how would J acob appear injusi such a. white vest and‘ elegant drese suit? I looked up at J ucob. He war a tall, brawny fellow, wa's Jacob, no he was my husband, and I haul got u used to seeing him in that blue shirt working aï¬eld that I could not ï¬t him into the fashionable rig. to my satis- faction. Mvï¬11i3-il said, ecstatically, “Don’t they bok beautiful, J {mob :9†- L Jun ~..v..v. .n ,, But J acob answered never a. word. He stood there at my Slde, looking on absorbed. 7 ‘1 1n wwuv- a.--†Agztin'the music sounded, and the splendid movement on the floor kept time to it. It so wrought upon 1m that in spite of my Quaker bringing up, I feltmy hem-t; beating quick, mm my feet putting themselves in mo tion. ~» - ........ 1‘ ... “0h, isn’tlit beautiful!†I said again, ulasping my hands by way 01 steadying myself. ‘ u --. 1 N1 ;;â€"u. “Al; Jake, jealous old J ake, why ain‘t you own up that it’s beau- tiful ‘2" uw‘tfnd'éha ï¬g'i'énd play," said J acob, grufliy, “and I suppose we‘ve got a right to implant} itrit: we like.†1s-r1 ‘L “Pshaw 1†said Jacob, impatiently? "I see nothing beautiful about it. It’s all a. commercial affairâ€"the whole thing bought and paid for. These shoddy shop-keepers and ofï¬ce-hold- ers and old-diggers; and Heaven knows what all, send their women- folks here to keep trade goingâ€"for nothing else under the sun but to bar- gain and haggle and ogle for places and power and money.†“Then it’s business," said I, ud- miringly; for I was determined to lure Jacob out of his moodiness. "Well, I never have seen business look so fair and desirable, Jakeâ€"un- less,†I a-dded, laughing, “when I’ve caught a. glimpse of you working a- ï¬eld in your old sinaw hat.†1-:- “Ah, that’s a different storyâ€" a dif ferent story indeed,†was the grave reply. “That’s business of another sort, Mattie; grinding hard work, and too much of it. And this sum- mer,coniound it! failure at the end of it all. Ah, Mattie, you don't know What a. load I’ve curried under that old straw hat !†Ah, but I did. Many a time had I looked from the quiet doorway and seen J accb working aï¬eld with a. sha-v dow on his face that was not made by the brim of that old straw hat. The bills were veiled in purple mist, The trees set us a, zone of gold, And far away as eye could reach The still green prairie onward rolled‘ ’1 he sky was blue as blue could be, LADIBS’ COLUMN. 'l'wu happy children on a hill, And seeiugju the sunset clouds Hurouu’s enchanted city loom ’Mid sens all white with fairy shrouds. \Ve guzsod till all the golden depths Held Bagdad’s splendid pomp and show The Scents of Samurcand ombulm The uutumns long ago. The cotton ï¬elds were white as snow ; Oh, What a. trance of joy had We In uutumns long ago I \Vo were so earnest as we planned Such lives as never could have beenâ€" Lives like some gorgeous phantusy With words of love dropped in between. I’ve haul v.5 foolish plans since then. Yet wanting all the warmth and glow That made life an enchanted dream 1n autumns long ago. Laurel Spring. Uh, could. I see with those same e) 6?, Or wave again the magic wand rhat set among the sunset skies The palaces of fairy-lend. We'd wqu once more in scented grabs, And feel the cool Gulf breezes blow, Love! half life’s glory died with thee. ' One autumn long ago. Uh young brave heart that trod alone The wondrous road so dim and cold! How (“‘1 thy sumll feet ï¬nd their way To that fair land with streets of gold '9 For, far beyond the sunset clouds, And far beyond all lands I know, Thy sweet soul passed and left me here, One autumn long ago. :10 lead me up the golden street. 01:, then, beloved, our hopes and dreams «)Shull all to sweet completion grow, And we almll link eternal joys With autumns long ago. Some day 1 shall feel tired uf life, And, full of rgst from head to fact, shall fall on sleep, and wait for thou Ju=t a few words, but they blinded The brightness all out of a. day; Just u. few \x urds, but; they lifted The shadows and cast them away Only 1). frown, bubiit dumpen‘d I ‘9. cheer of u dour little heart ; only an ’ mile, but its sweetness Cliaclaml wars that were remly to Oh! that the rule of our living More like to the golden would be .’ Much, oh! so much of sunshine Would go out from you and from 1 IN AUTUMNS LONG AGO‘ J \1 ST A FE\V \VORDL to start. 11104 ' He was revolving bitter things now, I knew, as he stood there a spectator of tlze we)?» _ “Little Mittie,†said he, presently, “you’ve as good a right to be there as the best of them, my wee woman." I laughed. I did not want to be there, and I had no desire to repreâ€" sent commercial interests; But Jacob was grasping my arm with an almost painful grip. “By heavens I" he said, his gray eye lighting up with a strange ï¬re, “I thought so. There's Stephen Risdale yonder! the villain that robbed meâ€"â€"the villain that got my land in his grip, with his mort- ‘gages and his trust-deeds, and the devil knows what. He‘s there with the rest of ’emâ€"the man that got a foreclosure on me, and left .me to scrape and screw with the rag» end of all my acres, and to grind a living out of the rocks ! A gentleman is he, with a diamond stud and a gold chain bought with the money for which I‘ve been a bond-slave for life !" And, by‘ the living God, I‘ll have it out of ; him I“ As Jacob uttered these words he lifted his hand and struck sharply the broad window-sill. My heart gave a great throb. I thought that every one in the great assembly must stop and stare at us. But the music sound- ed loudly, the dancing went on, and no seemed to heed us. As we went down the steps I saw “Jigger Jim," the village idiot, grimacing and gesti- culating and mimicing the dancing, with a group of village folk nodding and applauding and urging him on, mad I was glad no one had heard Jake’s words. For to me those were appalling. This was the ï¬rst time since we had been married thatl had ever heard J aeob utter zany thlng approaching an )ath. It startled me like the light ’f a, flame suddenly glaring up red and lurid in the midst of a. quiet wood~ Land. ‘ J each had been reputed a. little wild; at good many wise old folk had shook their heads when we came together. It was said he had run through with til his thrifty father's money; had been wasteful and speculative and dissipated, and had none of the thrif- ty qualities and forehandedness deem- ed so essential among the orderly farming people of Laurel neighbor- hood. Some said I would surely re- pent if I married him. Had the time for repentance come now ? Wei], we had not been prosperous this year, and J acob's farming had seq}; mattrejl by dro_ught_and blighï¬. Well do I remember the aspect of ahat blighted corn ï¬eld, from which .ve had expected so much. It; remind- :d me of a. troop of weather beaten ioldiers thth I saw once returning mum in the latter days of the war, jaded, dispirited, and with rugged )enners trailing in the dust. No mu- ;ic, no cheers of welcoming voices, no nets off, to welcome their return. So, wearily, with dejected heads and thin long leaves nulliï¬ed, our com ï¬eld trailed on the hill-side. Something of this demoralization aad perhaps entered into our house- Joldâ€"a. sort of nameless shadow, a bleak and blighting something against which no energy and no activity could wail. We were young, you see, and and, as it were, just commenced life, mud it was hard to know that things were going wrong with us from the beginning. But J eke was still a. hero in my} eye, and I loved him well, and it was‘ so lure him a little from the impulpao ole gloom that was settling about us that I had proposed this evening stroll. I did not take naturally to de- jeetion and. moodiness, and that sort )f quiet that settles like mould on some married lives; and the music, ,he moonlight, and the stirring peo- ple were like wine to me, and I should nave gone back to our quiet little cot- .guge gay as a lurk if it had not been {or those words. They seemed like lead to my heart of hearts, and weigh- edit down as we walked silently home- ward. It was late when we returned, but Jacob seemed in no wise inclined to retire. He walked about, restless and reticent. The place seemed too small for him ; his tall ï¬gure seemed to con- tract its limited space, as he moved to and fro, till it was almost a. relief to see him step from the doorway and silently stride down the road. It was ,no new thlng for him to walk 01? the ,“blues†in that way; and I never in- ‘ truded upon these moods, when he appeared to mentally set me aside as one who could not share in the thoughts that were urging him. Generally he came back to me out of these morose ï¬ts more loving and kinder than ever, and this was joy enough. But to-nightI was restless too. I wandered down to the gate and watch- ed his tall ï¬gure as, with a deep sha- dow stalking after it in the moonlight, it disappeared down the turn of the road. I‘fell into a reverie standing thereâ€"a reverie of I know not how long duration. I was roused from it bv the appearance on the road of J ig- ger Jim’s distorted ï¬gure. ' We were; Very good friends, Jigger Jim and my~ ‘ self, and he had once signiï¬ed his high appreciation of our friendship by presenting me with a huge brass but- ton. His glee, when I pinned this on :my dress like a brooch, was indescri- bable. This time he stopped in the road and doï¬ed his capâ€"a courtesy only extended to certain dignitaries of the village on rare occasions. Jig- ger understood “manners,†but deem- ed them too good for ordinary use. He was in high spirits, apparently; laughed his strange guttural laugh, pointed to the moon sparkling above us, then to his breast, and was highly pleased when I indicated that the dia- monds he had seen down at the ball were like that. Then, elevating his claw-like ï¬ngers, he gave a great leap, as if to grasp the serene planet, and ointing to my shawl and drapery, eft me to infer that he would like to see me bedizened with something as lustrous as the moon and the dia- monds. Smiling as the harmless fel- low went his way, I bethought me that it was late, and begin to wonder why J acobï¬ifl not come bagk. ‘ I concluded, after a while, that I I would stroll down the road and met ' himâ€"it was so solitary at the house, , and the night was so alluring. After you passed a certain turn of the road, -‘ you came almost in sight of the sea- shore. A little earlier in the evening you were apt to meet knots of young ‘ folks here and there strolling up from the hotels. But at this hour it was solitary and quiet. The water touch- ed the shore gently with a soothing sound; the beach stretched away ‘white and glittering, circling the blue water with a grand sweep that curved out to the misty distance, where a sil- ver veil only seemed to intercept earth and heaven. People said this was a bleak and solitary place in winter time. Now it was rarely lovely. I gave a loug, free breath as I looked. No wonder Jacob lingered abroad on such a night as this. So smiling sweet was the scene that I forgot the weight upon my heart, and wandered on aimlessly, childishly, thinking of nothing but its beauty. A little way up, the dusk shadow of the rocks out sharply into the silver of the shore. I could imagine that on stormy days this place might wear a forbidding aspect. In olden times it was said that smugglers had lurked about these rocks, hidden in their overhang- ing lodges, and creeping to their cave in that very shadow. A useful shao (low it must have been to them, Ii said to myself. How could any one discern them as they lay there on the sand watching for their boat ‘3 Peer- ing into the shadow with this thought on my mind, I felt my heart for a mo- ment almost cease heating, for there on the sands, in that very shadow, a man lay asleep, apparently. The next moment it occurrred to me that Jacob, wearied out with his day's toil, had fallen asleep down here. He had done so once before, poor fellow, though that was before night-fall. I approached very cautiously, think- ing perhaps he might be playing a practical joke on me, as he used to do in old days. But it was not J mob. The sleeper, whoever he was, was not so tell; he was slight, and elegantly dressed, ap- parently. But I went no nearer. Something thrilled through me like an electric shookâ€"2L wierd and per- ternatural telegram. This was the man whom Jacob had pointed out to me, lying there prone and insensible. And where was J neob Then I gathered courage and ap- proached him. I touched him with my txembling hands, but he did not move. It was Death, then, keeping _ watch bythe moonlit shoreâ€"Death that had lured me on to come down and meet him here, terrible and face to face. I turned and fled down the sands, wild- iy, with flying fear, to escape the via. xon bf terror that chased me as I went. - At my own threshold, stunned and fainting, I sank upon the stepping- stouc. A ï¬gure standing in the door- way stoopeq and liftgd me up. “Why, Mattie! why, how is this my lass ‘2 I thought you safe in bed.†I withdrew from the embracing arms; I stood alof shivermg and gaggigg. “I have been downwdown to the sea-shoreâ€"†“And something has frightenell the wee woman,†said Jacob, in his most Winsome and soothing tone. “Well, Best 21' bit, rest a bit, poor little bir- Ie ." The sweetness and softness of his voice as he said these words seemed to me like that of one who feels the hour of eternal separatlon dmw near. He came towards me. I held up my hands beseechingly. “Do not come near me now, Jacob. Oh, not now, for I have seenâ€"I have seen a. terrible sight down on the sands. Stephen Bisdalew†J acob’s fies gathered color, his eye shot ï¬re. “Did he insult you, the villain?†he said. ;‘He is dead," I answered, shafply and suddenly. “Dead!†"repeated J acob. “Oh, come away, come > away, Mattie; the moonlight h‘as‘rgagle yguï¬aftiï¬ â€œI wish that it had," I cried bitter- ly. “Oh, I wish that it had}: _ A ‘ v J acob ISicked up his hat, which lay 111301} the 313913.. __ ‘ ' “‘Come, Mattie," he said, “let us go down that way again; it’s some ill shadow, I- doubt, has unsettled your nerves. Cume l†He took me by the arm, not rough- ly, but hastily, and hurried me up the road at a. breathless pace. It was not long before we came to the great aha.- dow of the rock where I had seen the ï¬gure lying. But it was not; on the spot Where I had left it. A strange re. lief, the lightness from a. terrible load, came to my heartâ€"it almost seemed as if I had really been dreaming. J acob laughea. “You fairly geared me, little w0man,â€_hga saigl. At that moment I heard a, rustling in the bushes fringing the foot of the rock, and turning my strained eyes thither, I saw a. ï¬gure sitting there. It made my blood tingle in my veins, that sight, for this drooping recum- bent shape was a._living Hymn, at leagt. It was, indeed, Stephen Bisdale, and when J acob awkwardly but deter- minedly drew near, we saw that he was stunned and bruised, that the frill of his shirt was torn, and the splendid diamond was gone from his breast. Looking down from the rocks at that mqmeut I saw the broad face of Jigger Jim. He nodded to me know- ingly, putting his ï¬nger to his lips, then uttering one of his ear-splitting yells, scrambled out 9f sight. 0 “What sort of idiots “are all you people here,†gasped the victim, as the ape-like ï¬gure disappeared, “that you let a. crazy dog like that prowl aro_und_withogt a. keeper ?'_’_ Jacob made some'gentle answer. He was thinking, perhaps, of the hard words he had spoken that evening. He touched the injured man tenderly with his strong hands, and helped him to his feet. Stephen looked about him warily. “He was coming back to ï¬nish the job, I suppose, if you’had not come to the rescue." . “We are all idiots, more or less, believe,†said J 21001). We took Stephen Risdale to our own house that night and cared for hin tendgrly. _ - It was long before he fully recover- ed, but nursing him was a. real pleas- ure to me. I was full of rejoicing. This man who might have been a. vis- ion of terror to. me all my life, this man Whom we had so strangely and unwittingly rescuedâ€"this was ‘ but 9, man after all, and not a. ï¬end. Sick- ness cleared away. some fogs from his brain, and rendered his mental vision clearer. He had done wrong; he was willing to make restitution. That acquisitiveness which is the moral con- dition of a shrewd business man melts like frost in the fever of illness. ing, and he did so. But the diamond which Jigger had secreted baffled all Search. It was only by long man- oeuvring and a craftiness rivaling his own that it. was ï¬nally recovered. ‘ Stephen swore that he 'Would have Jigger ghpt 313 from f‘urï¬hgr harm-do- One day, with secret trembling (al- though I knew that Jacob and Steph- en were following within call), I allur- ed him up among the crags over- hanging the water; and there, with frantic gestulations and inarticulate mouthings and idiotic shouts of laughter, the jewel was delivered to my keeping, and 1 carried it home like aprinceae, Jigger Jim clapping his hands with satisfaction to see it flashing on my breast.‘ He had sto- len it for me, poor Jim, and I was to ‘reward him so treacherously. He had stolen it for me, and Stephen QRisdale declared it should be mine Qforever. It is mine. 1 see it shining now in a. harvest of plenty from our restored acres. 1 see it flashing in Jacob's glad bright eyes. Stephen Risdale, when he came up this fall, declared ours was the brightest little place he was ever in. And well it may be, for there 15 no shadow nowâ€"there never will be againâ€"between J each and myself. James Carter was a clerk in an eminent bank. He had been connected with it for sometime. He was very faithful and skill- ful, and was highly esteemgd by the direct- ors of the bank. One Saturday afternoon, at a time whon a large amount of business, requiring much writing, had accumulated, and it was vol-y desirable to have it attended so'at‘tho earnest moment, the manager of :he bank name to James‘ and saidâ€" 7 “I want you to come down to the bank to- morrow. We must get our work 'up. 0! course we shall be generous in our pay for this extra work." > g ulna win: win-- ;- “But,†said James, " {til the Sabbath to- morrow." _ “Hirinrow it," ’nnsworod‘t‘he manager ; “but it is an extraordinary tinge ; the work must b' ‘9'â€- “d 32°“ ‘9“??? t? 93° bank", " I ne'ver wok: on the Sabbath,†was the answer. "Ihave been taught to honor the day, and it would go against my conscience to come to my dask to-morrow. I am really sorry to diaobligo you, but I could not con- scientomly htogk tho Bnbbath." “ (fcuuru, you do not uauuuy; but this must pa an 9xce'ption.j’_ “I must insist upon my request, and if you cannot grant it I shall be obliged to sup- .ply your place with another olork, and dis- .miss you. I shall do this with reluctance, for you lu‘wo began a. faithful zonng man. u- ,,,s I think this man could not have believed that the youth would stand ï¬rmly by his principles. He wanted to gain his object, and he did not stop to think 0! the mean- nesI and cruelty, as well as wickedneaa.of the course he was taking. He supposed the young men would certainly yield, when his failing to do so would cost him his place. Elba: a lesson James was enabled to teach 1m - Bm in was an iron gate. He had 3. good position. It might. be very dimcult to ï¬nd anothor. A mother may have depended upon the young man’s salary for her support. Whith er could he turn 7 I! he lost the bank under chose circumatlnoon, the manager would not give him o recommendation, or permit him we use his name as a reference. Those though a must have passed rapidly through um um d, as the gate seemed to close upon hina. He oflered up a silent prayer and em â€" " I shall be sorry to lose my place. r I do not know where I on: ï¬nd another ; but 1 cannot break the Sabbath. I shall not ente: upon my work to-morrow, even If I lose my p03iti_on.’1- ’ u . l ,1,,,, r ,,,,,,,, “Ver well," wad the short, unfoehng answer _; " I will hand you what is your due up to to-night. . We shall not require your .ervicos At the bunk any longer.†James went home somewhat despondent, but conï¬dent that he had done right. It was an uncommonly interesting Sabbath upon which he entered the next day ; (or to keep an hours sacred had cost him a great price. He placed his «so below his hesvanly Fath- er, and patiently waited for the opening 0! Bio Providence. But what an impression had been made upon _the mind of the manager. What a rebuke he had received I What an invalua- ble clerk, after ell, he had lost! A man so true to his God, would not be unfaithful to nie employers. Hie comeence tr. ubled him on account of his unhandsome conduct to ward the clerk, as well as for his readiness to break the commands of God. It was only a low day: elierï¬hat hrhttended the meeting 01 the directors of Merge new bank, just ready to go into operation. They nut to :elect a. cashier. The enquiry around the board was [or a. trustworthy man, as there had been so many who had been unable to resist the temptation of appropriating the moneys coining into their}:de to their own uses. A number of banks had euï¬ered in this way. Cashiers had fallen into dissipated hints, and to meet the expenses of their dissolute courses had taken th funds 01 the banks. The directors wanted 25mm they could rely upon, if such a; one could be found. and they were willing toga] him a high salary. “A AI__L L-) i...‘L A:--â€"-:Hlln!‘ Now the thot had just dismissed his clerk ofloro‘d to name 9. mm. “ 11 they wished," he said, “I. truly faithful and cap- able young man, who would place himself above wealth, and rather lose his piece than sin against God. they could not do better than to ofler the position to J amoa Garter.†He then‘ frankly told the story. He assured them that James had no idea of the recom- ‘megdation. He had left the bank rather DELIVERANCE IN TEMPTATION. CHILDREN’S CORNER. than break the Sabbath, having no other position in View. His noble step, which at ï¬rst had irritated him into doing a very un- manly thing, had fully convinced him of the sterling honesty of his character. The nom- ination was immediately and unanimously 3accepted, and to the astonishment of James the next morning he received the offer of lthis high position with a large increase of salary. Thus, without hands, when he stood before the iron gate of temptation, having lifted up his prayer for help from on high, it swung wide open before him.â€"anily Friend. Night is the best time for stealing chick ens. The punctuating proof reader is the man of the period“. The (kbior nowadays remarks: “Post. no bills." The boy who Wm; spanked remarked that his mother was his warmest friend. Chromos have gone out of fashion, but a. great many papers give away a man with every subscriber. When a Colorado man is asked whether he likes to be lynched, he says: “No, 1’11 be hanged if I do.†Out in the Black Hills the three degrees of comparison are said to be “mine, miner, and mmus.†There are no less than 2,360 varieties of American apples. An extra apple or two makes no difference. “It is not. what the world is to us, L-ut what we are to the \led, that; is the utens- are of our happiness.†If you don‘t want to 1m robbed of good name, do not have it pmuted on umbrella. Missionaries repurb'thah the Hindou wo- men aro easily converted, but i1. is impossi- ble to break them of lying, their favorite small vice. A French author ski-ya :â€"When 1 lost. my wife, every family in town oï¬ered me anoth- er, but when 1 lost my horse no one offered to make him good. ' A lover of good coffee entered a grocery recently, and holding up a. handful of ground coffee from a. big can, he inquired ;â€"“Are were any beans in this cefl'ee 'P" "No, sir,†promptly replied the grocer. “How do you Know?†asked the man. “Because I was out of beans and had to put peas in !†was the answer. A prisoner in a Louisiana jail patiently feigned paralysis for three months, so as to get a. chance to escape ; and, when the change came, in the language of the local news,sz per, “he was 011' hke El; telegram.†1f the cockroach that cmwlod into our inu- cilage bottle, did so with the expectation of bettering his condition, we sadly fear tlmt, in the language of the poet, “he‘s stuck.â€â€" Oil City Derrick. “Oh, who can hold. a liro in his hands?" Why‘, an Irishman working on a, railroad. do can stxike a, match and light his pipe with it the windiest day that ever lived. The following is the worst ever offered lo a conï¬ding public : Why are four singers like one. fourth of a. gallon of consumed lug- er? One is a. quartette and the other a quarb drunk. N. B.â€"Gontributors who send us original jokes are requested to give their names in .1111, not necessarilly for publication, but in order that they may be added to the statis- tics of the State Lunatic Asylum. Real estate business is not so profitable just now. The tenant is waiting for the landlord to lower the rent, While the land- lord is waiting tor the tenant to raise it. “When 1 die let me be buried within the sound of the hammer, the clung of the work- shop, the hum of the mill,†says the candi- date in his speech. And then he goes home and seats himself in the rocking chair, while his wife carries the coal out of the cellar to get supper withâ€"Inter- Ocean. Woman’s constancy holds the world of happiness in its orbit. Nothing is more sa- credly beautiful than her tender, trusting faith. The Queen upon. her gorgeous throne relies upon her people’s affection, and the humble handmaid in the kitchen believes she can light the ï¬re with kerosene until we read in the undertaker’s bill how poss1ble it is to be deceived. A Teutonic gentleman entered a drug store with a handful of currency, and asked a. rath- er green clerk in attendance if he had a. “ï¬f tollar pill?†wishing to change his small notes to: a. bill of that denomination. The clerd looked up with bulging eyes, and re- plied that the highest priced pills in the store was only $2 abox “Business recovering, Mr. Veneer?†asked a customer of a. furniture denier. “Yes,†growled the tradesman; “business is Ire-cov- ering, and that’s all it is. We are doing nothing but re-covering old fulniture ; have not sold a stick of new for a fortnight." And then the subject waslaid on the table. Springï¬eld ()Inss.) girls are out with a new wrinkle. They ask their gentleman friends to give them ten cent pieces which have been ground smooth one side and adorned with the gentleman‘s monogram, at the givor’s ex- pense. Those coins the fair beggar wear about their necks in strings, as the Egyptnin and Turkish women do, the one with the 101186815 string being the top of the heap. Rogers wrote : 'Mine be a cot beside the mill; 8. beehive’s hut shall soothe my ear,†and on the following day he moved in. That evening his wife caught a glimpse of him as he shot across the garden lot, slapping his but about his head; and she passed into the house, remarking: “I just expected he would go fooling around them bees. The next min ute he’ll be in here howling for flour and molasses to soothe his ear.†“Never, no never, marry for money,†gravely remarked the pastor to the youth. “Pa,†called out a. youngster just then from behind the study door, “what do you marry for if ’ta‘mt for moneyâ€"$2 any way, and maybe more if the feller's rich ‘3†The win- xster got around answering the question 1)) leading the boy out by the scalpâ€"lock.â€"Clzi- cayo Evening Journal. At an evening party in the Fuubourg St German, the conversation turned upon the word "kiss." “0h,†saida. member of the Institute, “it is derived from a banscrit (x- prossion, meaning to Open the mouth.†An old mathematician, who was seated in a cor- uer, was asked his opinion. "Kissing," he answered quietly, “is an operation which consists in the approach of two curves which have the same bond, as far as the point of contact.†There was silence in the school. The teacher had struck the bell, calling attention, and every eye was bent upon her. This was a. splendid opportunity for the spread of in- formation, and one of the little boys perceiv- ing it raised his hand. “What is it Johnny?†asked the teacher. “Tommy Migb’s father’s cow has got a. 09. i,†shouted the excited youngster, his face as ow with the intelligence. The teacher wilted. The inventions and improvements that have been made during the present century the world will remain tor all time _a marked epoch in the world’s history. Nearly all of the inventions and important improve. ments thatnow save the labor of millions of hands, that now makes a. journey mound the world a. mere pleasure trip, that anni- hHetes space, that records on its mirrior the events of every day life, are almost wholly the result of human intellect of the nineteenth century. When we look back upon what has been aezompliehed, we stare in amazement at the rapid and gigan- tid strides that have been taken in nil di- rections to enlighten and beneï¬t the world. ‘Not only have great agents been discovered THE MARCH 0F IMPROVEMENTS SUNBEAMS your 0 ur or better utilized, but the minor and in- dispensable details of every-day life have been simpliï¬ed, so that our mothers, our Wives, our sisters and our daughters are not bound to that household slavery that ‘made them carry the real burdens of do~ ‘mestio life. Now scarcely a, day passes but tome new and valuable invention is added to the endless list of mticlcs to lighten the labor of the household. n So (at, there has been no invention that has supplied so greatawant in every fam- ily as the sewing machine. With the inâ€" troduction of this genuine labor-saving up. paratus, one of the greatest drudgcs of the household has been done away, and the work of furnishing the fumin garments with its tireless needle has be- come a pleasure and a pastime. It would be useless to attempt to enu-‘ mernte the many improvements that have been made in sewing machines, but among the almost countless makers and styles. none have stood the test 01 public trial and criticism better or even as well as the Victor Sewing Machine, now in use in every ciime, at home and abroad. Being the original pioneer from the very start, under the name of the Finkle and Lyon. the manufacturers, to meet the times, have placed their best machine within the reach of every family of whatever condition 111 life, thus beneï¬ting the miliioné of this daymmd generation as wall as future generations to come. 'l‘ho mulevolcnt power of the god Suni, the Hindoo Saturn, is an essential part of the Hindoo faith. The sacred writings abound with instances of his implacable hatred to mankind. We have various sources of in- lormutinu its to the clinmztcr useribed to this deity ; th 2 accounts drawn from ,which, though now differing much in detail, occur to denote a, common origin. In Greek mythol- ogy, Saturn is the son of Heaven and Earth, udeposed ruler of the gods. According to the View of Ptolemy and the astrological writer-s, he is the “suprcmest or highest of the planets, placed between Jupiter and the tirmament, and governor of the airy triplici- ty.†When joined by an evil aspect to the ,usccndunt, he causes sickness, family iil'llic- tion, accidents, falls, and bruises. 'l‘ho mind becomes dull and heavy under his in flue-nee; the body suffers lingeringr dise'iscs, cough, colds, phlegmutic complaints, and iow levers. When ill.dignilied he is envious, covotous, jealous and misti‘ustful, tiniorous, sordid, diesembling, sluggisn, suspicious, stubborn, a contcmner of women, it liar, malicious, murmuring, never contented, and ever ropining. This cheerful character is not inconsistent with the iiiythologlcul ac- counts of either branch oi the Aryan race. .l‘llo use among ourselves of the adjectiw saturninc indicates u sullen and gloomy disâ€" position. ‘l‘he Grecian Saturn mutilated his lather and devoured his children. But the Hindoo Saturn delights in acts of wanton; cruelty and mischief, pursues his victim with the icrocity and relentlessness of i}. blood hound, and seldom quits his prey until ‘ the utmost wretchcdness has been attained. i It is very remarkable, however, thut the power of Saui is not supposed to extend to the deprivation of life. In this there is a rein-nimble resemblance to the Satan of the Book of Job. Sum cpprcsses his victims for a. longer or shorter period, but never longer than seven years and a. half, which is the maximum period of the duration of his malevolence, according to the Ilindoos.i According to Ptolemy, his three periods are thirty, forty-three and a. half, and ï¬fty- seven years; and his greatest term, referr- ing to states, buildings, and matters of a permanent nature,is 465 years. It IS use- less to attempt any escape from misfortune so long as Semi is against us. His power extends over the heavens, the earth, the sea, and the regions below the earth, and all beâ€" ings creut ed or uncreated, mortal or immor- tal, are liable to the wrath of this terrible being. Siva, the ï¬rst person of the Hindoo tried, was driven into madness by Bani, and, decked with living serpents and human bones,‘ danced with ,demons amid graves. Vishnu was tied to a rice morth by shepherdesses for having, at Sani’s instigation, stolen butter and ghee. Subremcnia. was changed into a. Veugai-trec by the some _power while paying his addresses to a, Kuruva damsel. Vigneswam, when anIinï¬ant, had his head burned up by the evil glances of Saniâ€"a le- gend recalling the malocchio, or owl-eye, oi the Italiansgvhich Pius IX. is believed to possess. V THE WORSHIP OF SATURN IN b‘OU I"1:[ ERN INDXA. ' The most noted instance of the persistent malice of Sani is the theme of the splendid episode of the Maha. Bherataâ€"the adven- tures of Nala and Damayenti. ltesenting the preference shown by the letter for the former. Sani ï¬rst incited Nala. to gamble away his kingdom, and then turned the pair, penniless and forlorn, into the desert, where he brought on them a series of misfortunes, the recital of which strikes the reader with horror. It would be difï¬cult to ï¬nd it per allol tale in any other literature, containing so much misery and terror, with such con- jugal fidelity and unbending fortitude. There is a temple dedicated to Sani at Kutchanur, in the south-Western part of the Madura. dis ‘ trict. Like all ediï¬ces of this nature, it is divided into the three portions of outer apartment, holy place, and cells, or sanctum sanctorzmi. The image of Sani is mounteu on a gigantic crow. Hi5 ministers are Brah- mi’n priests, and his ministrations resemble those of other Brahminical paged-es, with the exception that no Dasis, or vestals, are attached to the temples of Saturn. A great festival of three days’ duration is held, com mencing on the 18th of Adi each year, in honor of the misugynist god, on which, con» trary to the usual custom, all the worship on; are feasted at the expense of the temple, .tithough the cfferings made far exceed the amount of the expenditure. Sheep, poultry, rice, camphor, plantains, and artiï¬cial flowr ers made of gold and silver are offered. The animals are brought alive, and are sold by auction by the priests on the third day 01' the feast. The special peculiarity of the rite is that all the worshipers earnestly suppli- cete, not the preSence, but the absence of the god, and beseech him never to visit their homes, or to turn the evil light of his countenance upon them. The mother crew in the old Green fable may however, be cred- ited with more sagacity than these worship ers of Sani, when she replied to the request of her sick son that she should pray for his recovery. A London correspondent writes :â€"â€"-“Mr. 1 James Gordon Bennett, proprietor of the New York 1.’ erald, who has come over to England for the hunting season, telegraphed to the President of the United States to in- quire whether it was possible an American gunboat might be sent to St. Paul de Lomidn to -convey Mr. Stanley’s African followers from that place round to Zanzibar. Proba» bly no American gunboet is near enough for the service. Many influential Americans re- sident in London think it would be a grace ful recognition of Mr. Stanley’s splendid ser- vices cnd great geographical discoveries, if the English Government ordered a gunboat to take'these brave people to their homes. As it is understood that a large sum was vot ed. for the expedition by the proprietors of Daily Telegraph and New York Herald, it is no question of money ; but our American friends say that Mr. Stanley has proved him» self to be a distinguished public servant, and an English gunboat could reach Loande, be- ‘iore a. vessel despatched on this special mis. Leion from one of our ports. Mr. Stanley lhaving determined to remain at Loandu. un- til his followers are shipped for Zanzibar, he cannot be expected home for about three lmonths. His letters shortly to be published are said to be of even greater importance to commercial men than to mere geographers. “Better not your case to mention Than attract the gods’ attention.†MR. STANLEY. Stovepipe poetry is seasonable now. The Dunkiu Act has been defeated 1n Cqbourg and Port Hope.†House-keepers will. rejoice to hear that the price. of coal is falling in the mining regions. Considérï¬ble excitement prevails in Peter- borough in connection with a proposition mado t3 submit the Duukiu Act to popular vote. The Education Department in Toronto is investigaiing the recent dishoness and fraudulent practices connected wit-htenchera' examinations. Guntribution buxes placed in a. number of the public schools of London for the beneï¬t of the orphan‘s home have in some instances been stolen. The Turks have Suffered. a. deieat before‘ Kare, which for £119 time being gives the Russiansu decided advantage in prosecuéing their Asiatic campaign. General Grant has resolved to retire into private Eifo. If he had done so some elght or nine years agu,his country would hme been a gainsr thereby. If a brother meets a. brother fallen very low, should a brother leave a brother, father down to go 1’ Everyboly needs a body kindly \Vul‘db‘ tow-y when a brother meets a. brother, falling by the way. \V’cst-ward buuhd freight-3 have been ud- vanued unathird, with the prospect of 11. still further advance of one-ï¬fth. Why cannot all the freight b2 11: eastward ? Horatio Seymour says the demonetization of siivcr was 21 mistake, and Senator Korman thinks its remonetizmion would be another. Give, us plenty of silver, and we willnot much care which of these men is right. The greas strike. among the striking coal miners in l’onnsylvania has ï¬nally collapsed. The man have gone to work, poorer but, it is no he hoped, wiser than when they undertook to enful'ue Compliance; with their unreasonc able demands. The following cure for small pox is one upon which Edward Hine is willing to stake his reputation as a public man. “One ounce of cream tin‘tar dissoii'cd in a pint of water, drunk at intervals when acid.†The remedy is suit} to he inevci'.f,ii]ixisz, and to cure the worst case in. three. days. without leaving a. mark, or causing l-linduess. It hasgalso _the merit of being so simple that no physician is needed to administer it. A Sir John Bennett was some months ago elected by?u certain section of Londen a. member oi the board of alderman. This body rejected him as unï¬t for and unworthy of the eï¬ice, and it new election ordered. He was re ethui, remejted. A third time was he elected; and at third time has he just been rejected ; {and it is now the duty of the board to appoint a. person to ï¬ll the vacant position. What the particular sin is for which he has been so emphatically condemned is not very clearly stated ; but as we understand it there be alderman in some of our Canadian cities who ought to give up their seats if this man is unworthy. The result of the French elections, giving a, very large majority against the Govern- ment, must warn Marshal MacMahon that there is a. point beyond which military dictator- ship will not be tolerated by the Ii‘renelupéev, pie. France is nominally a republic ;’but really it is almost anything else. It' is not Imperial, it is not Monarqhial, it is not Be- publiczm; but deepotic itl is, and that worst kind of despotism which depends upon the will of an erratic mind backed up by the power of a large standing army. The result of the late elections must be considered a. most emphatic protest by the nation against such an exercise of power, disregard of which will inevitably lead to disastrous consequen- ces. The defeat of the Dunkin Act in the towns of Port Hope and Coboui‘g is not to be ac- cepted as an audience that the temperance communities in these places have been relax- ing their efforts or are lacking in any degree in 2:111 101' the cause they have espoused, but rather that the public generally r< quires A, good deal more education on the subject. Elie prestige of success in the counties in which they are located, upon which, doubt- less, reliance was to some extent placed for success in the towns, has not had the anti- cipated effect, and the friends of the cause of prohibition have to go back to the work of education and moral suusionfor a while long- er. The “spirit of unrest" seems to be heldâ€" mg high carnival in Russmjust now. Scarce- y it day passes without bringing reports of popular demonstrations against the Govern- ment, or of riotous ppoceedings, or of con- spiracies unearthed, or of assassinations or attempted assassinations. There are So- cialists, and Nihilists, and Communists, and luternotiomlists. and l’ansnlvists, and no end of other “ists,†which nearly all mean the some thing, all engaged in some enter- prise against the peace and security of the Government. The despotic‘ form of govern- ment pre wailing, under which undoubted abuses have grown up, is to some extent the excuse for the existence of these organize.- tions; and the temporary withdrawal of troops to Bulgaria and other scenes of the Russo-Turkish struggle, furnishes opportu- nity desired for the turbulent demonstra- tions which mark the unchecked presence of these elements of alsorder. Russia has her- self very much to blame for all this. The yoke she has imposed upon her vassuls has not always been as easy to bear as it might have been, while her exactions have some- times been such as even the most patient, enduring human nature must rebel against or sink under. Most men will ï¬ght before they will submit to oppression, whizh is what most of those anti-Russian “ists†are trying to do, though too well watched usu. ally to make much headway. .Soys the Guelph Heraldzâ€"“Mr. Thomas Amos, of Aberfoyle, has just returned from a week’s visit to the County of Grey, and cor'roborates, in every particular, the evi- dence of Mr. Dunbar, given in the Herald, Saturday. Mr. Amos says that, previous to his Grey visit, he was in favor of the passage of a. Dunkin Act bylaw in Wellington ;but during the ViSIt he saw what quite convicted him that such a law was worse than useless. In every hotel in the county he visitea-and he visited a. great number, both in Owen Sound and elsewhereâ€"he found no dlï¬iculty whatever, although an entire stranger, in procuring liquor ; he saw many others doing likewise, and never saw any refused. Mr. Amos 1s a, well known and respected gentleâ€" man, and his statement Li3 entitled to the greatest credence.†GENERALITIES,