T?^^' -..--Ki |-y^-g^a^g-..-?5g--- ' i»fl..«j .^ .-»# â- ^S.' ^.'^lgfef--'..',_ajl »- -^ " ' lL ^ti|^^^^iȣ'^:^-^A£^:.«iSBI^iaK4£^:;. fe^ll^a^3,^. '-^ ""^^ .*^-"'*^***^i*'**""'"t*^-?^' V ~-T^1V.-#/ |ha, and' I increases v^ *• tS^« Ions reaaona fqr Jf* W ?^ I was last heard 4^ «?LH f'.^l^ii^ it would ^l^cka^ "i^y one of athon^^of tt?* I a solitary meas7„ " "•^^ ftfaaue news hwri! '»«'«?. Jould have to '"' 8 Zanzibar or bTl'**«' J Toe latter route i.*^ «f â- certain. The f^'^hLuJ |h Uganda andte'".««"y |hsturbance.itwmC^:::'«^^ lend dispatch from WaH?P« f-st. Ic is to the ra„ '^•^elai to t h- the earu4^SVW ,*:; comiag down will kT ' **i «* J/or tidings of "fe^'^^ehedl It steamer that can C- *^^ I is the Stanley, which "" '"y «^ Te about x\Urch 15 Tt "-^'^B Major Barttelot at S^"'H b-thmg of theexpediti^'"?8»' j his can,p into tt^^^^dj:!*' ^ot anxiety will be eXSrV â- U not be destroyed nn^^ (i^ken.-.V.y.fHU «'"'«'» Old Sam. isintheCityofColdwater M;i lorrel horse known a. Old sl "J ^ost popular hor.e in the to^ k?er days he was used as a^" j fe.andheandhi.mate,X;Sl 1. well trained that they wo"fd ^^ ^^P"'"'?-^! hotel and back theon 'to the sidewalk to let the l^ t without being guided at all byj itormy night the train was late raiting ac the station for paaseis, iver f.h asleep. Old Sam anA :ion, after standing about as low ..urtt^d up town on their ovm acco J up u,t tne hotel in the usual w.J en went over to the livery sti hey were kept. n the war broke out. the citizeiiK kter equipped the Loomia Batten )me of the finest hor-.es thatwentuj rmy, and iimcng them was Old Si a in a great many battles, bat cai hurt, aud at the close of the wrt s bought him of the Government,! ttd h:m to Gen. Loomis, who â- nded the battery. the return of Old Sam to Cloldwatt, if the people tcought they would gid reoi^ptiun. So they made ready 1 .11, filling the rack with hay and t r with oats thtn they me him at L, d sta'ion, and after greeting him wi3 cheers, 'urned him loose, and watchej what tie would do he wect to the hotel, where he i__ i frr p,isse:;gers, and looked aromidi Tiicii he went over to his old hoDuj d into his stall, smelt of the hay u in.l g (,v e a loud neigh, as if to expteL Ltistijtion that everything was mM he.'i bejjan eating as if he had be unly a lew days, instead of years. • .tcliman's Extraordinary Adventi uguiar, and at the aame timeseriol accineT'.t happened to a Paris watthj iimed I'arnot on Sunday night. Pit ts employed near the Caamps de-Ma i after some buildings which wereiJ of o )Qstruction, and in order to keq^ f warm during the night he put soa I over a e.iuliron of boiling bitnma veriosj himself carefully up, wentt m them. During the night thepW •ay by degrees, and the man slid g« :5 the^bitumen. Under normal codii ic ought to have been boiled, batti m was just beginning to feel thee f the frost, and so the watchman wi from a horrible death, UnluckiW er, the bitumen before thorougnq g had.atihered toParnot's clothes aor md about 4 oc'oc in the morning* ,-akened by cold w ich seemed to m 1 the marrow of Lis bones. Oa in^ to set up he found himself gw*! d of adamant, and shouted energew :or help. His cries attracted aor nal marauders who were pro*i" the locality for plunder, »ndU» es instead of helping the '»»f"2?Ha It of his bituminous bed, «"™° v.itch, a purse containinga snwiH" ey, and His knife, after whioh "d in unreasonable chaff as ton^J to " rise with the lark," and M n to his fate. Pamot was nearly' eath when the workmen ^rnj^ ted him from his perilous P«» I to be admitted to the i^ofpi'^^ case, for not only were ^/?°' jf J he had seriously ioJ"«d "^rt f' rgetic but ineffectual ende.vor» War m Twenty Minutes. ewar of the rebellion,"8«^y the other evening, '"^theW 7 war. Yes, whiskey can«dtn I was in Congress ?^^^ [t was whiskey in the m»f^fl g cocktail-a Congrew « ^^^ I's. Then whiskey aUdayO^ nblin^ all night. .IJ«££^ ipened its corning 8M»^^t„ it^adjoumed. Scascely'^^^^ •ithout Its denujohn oi "r^Jid" ,k of the glMBes comu W ipitol corridom. J-»" •ger'-^ peechesâ€" were w^'^^^Zl-y, n ^•as redolent with WM»»f^- i lent seeking relief «* /^t8in«*| r adding to fO"^^^tairhl^ 3 rebellion was l»onch^^»o*J Vench Assembly jejeto" «â- r one-half the whiflk^ J»^, lev. Bartholomew J^ ^^- 1. Norfolk. iB th« f ^Sp^A land. He has jost o^p£ A ear. He has bee»«*^ii • St seventy-five y«»^:iiiiP est living Cantab, W»J« a 1811. He is »nW« ;aaionalIy co^"**^ _!« eh. Z/^ pE'SjATM. jY CHARLOTTE M. YONGE. I plER XXIV. (CONTINCED. t rede home, mor.. glad chat the toils-' „„ruaiiv made ihan at the S» ,-7 taken, 'iiis father was disap- " • uid niit bat allow that it was :f' ""'Xnt arrangement and Mr. • ' \pwetl all :he annoyance of a man acted. ^otf-r has been rej 'hi.r"ii-tle i,'vgj!ing Scotch girl " he Uell -.ve i-r:; quit of her, anyway. 'r il^irk eniingled himselt with â- lis ^â- *^"' n-ocher-in-law i fool to expect to into the bargain get any good out hi? daughter, with for Misa H?ad worth hospitality a fPF" Keffisleftaioae; r bear to accept nis f loader ^hia needful, and besides ^°'p 63 macii shaken in nerves as to '-hit ao illness was coming on, and • Heme to b3 nursed by Mary Nugent. f FTremoat was obliged so go back to ,^e ro finish his residence, and his *wM hail bee^^ absent nearly a month • ' faiiiilVi thousht it really wisest to fvjfither aiid daughter be thrown upon L o'htr at oace, so that Ursula might lie biuefic of her father's softened Le cou'.d be no doubt thct he was soft- fjj,,i that he had derived some im- ' " from the year and a half that his Vid been with him. It might not have him ap a step, but it had arrested him yj jownward course. Selfish and indolent £S ever, but]:here had been a restraint i^jmsements, and a withdrawal from OTtat associates, such as the state of his ,.ii migflt continue, above aU if Gregorio ]i be dispensed with. The man himself b«come aware of the combination ii him, and, though reckoning on his ^-er's inertness and dependence upon knew th*t a fresh offence might com- K his overthrow, and therefore took care be on his good behavior. lims Nuttie's task might be somewhat i*:hed but the poor girl felt unspeak- fdesolatt as she ate her breakfast all (.ae ivith 4 dull post-bag, and still more so eD hiviug seen the housekeeper, who, ;iy for her, was a good and capable and very sorry for her, she had to aiEk herstilf what to do in that dreary "•room during the hour when she had Ifijs been mos+ sure of her sister-mother's ir company. How often she had grumbled ieing ciUed on to.practise duets for her ier's evening lullaby I She supposed she jq: to get soniethiug up, and she proceed- to turn over and arrange the music with lort of sick loathing for whatever was con- k1 with those days of impatient mur- ars, which she would .so glactly have re- illed. Everything l;ad fallen into disorder, B:siiche aud Miy had lt;f t it the last time rvliid [jlajcd there and the over-looking :,inJ p;itdag aside the pieces which she sll never ur^e alone, occupied her till ejorio, very meek and polite, came with message ih-t Mr. Egremout would be fid if she would come to his room. In ne (Irtau,- sorae distaste,, and yet some iiyaad ponii; iioneac rebolution, she made itrway tui:her. There bri .^it, ia dressing-gown, smoking- ap, aai blue snectiicles, with the glittering ib.ujry "^iiashiue carsfully excluded. He okert wcrte aud more haggard than when hadsecu him at dinner in the evening, ids up for company, and her compassion '.ix-\. especdiily as he not only held o'Xt :Bh?ad, bat seemed to expect her to kiss Ji, a thini^- she had never done since their ^trecoi;E;:ioa. It was not pleasant in !Bti:, but it betoiiened full forgiveness, and ieed he had never spoken to her in his leericg, exasperating voice since her saniful return home. "Hive you seen the boy ' he asked. " Yes th^'y u.re walking him up and down ate tiie south Will." siid Xuttie, thank- fcthit shj had peeped under the many »t«ps as lie was cirried across the hall. "Here I want you to read this letter to »e. A man ought to be indicted for writing athaliand:" It «as really distinct penmanship, though ?inate; but, as Nuttie found, her father 11 not like to avow how little available »Er! his eyes. He could write better than 5scou!d read, but he. kept her over his cor- •spmdenje for the rest of the morning, an- :»ering some of the letters of condolence for Jini m her ov.-n name, writing those of busi- ?®, and folding ind adres^ng what he ^«Ii contrived to write. Her native -.-iines3 stood her in good stead, and, be- â- t? rather nervous, she took great pains, and "-Mi stumbled indeed, she only once in- â- Jred an ex..damition of impatience at her '•^piQity and slowness. *« gcessed rightly that this forbearance owing to tender persuasions of her an-" did not guess that a certain herself svaa mingled with other ^I'ives. Her father had grown used to ^.'fflan s ministrations he needed them for " precious little heir, and he knew his -«ghter moreover for a severe juds'e, and ^1 not want to alienate her and lose her '«3; so they got on fairly well togeth- .^u she shared his lunclieon, during mesasge came up about the carriage I 'ft of »aich lad saenuri there had been" an application for '^^"y needment, and moreover black- ;^°i envelopes had run short,, there was I iowJ'^^^^^® enough for a drive to the little ti.^^^ ""ie reid her father to sleep with â- ij":*'^^.P*P5r ntshed round the garden in wiigQt to stretch her young limbs; 3e,{?,'"^*da Uttle, dressed, dined with 'Jeij " ' "'â- "'^ed what he had missed in w/it^*" ^hen offered him music, and was CHAPTER XXV.-The GiaoLniG Scotch GiBL. "For every Lamp that trembled here. And faded in the night. Beheld a Star serene and clear Smiles oa me from the height."â€" B.M. Nuttie was not mistaken in sup posing that this first day would be a fair sample of her life, though, of course, after the first weeks of mourning there were variations and the return of the Rectory party made a good deal of brightening, and relieved her from the necessity of finding compinionship and conversation for her father on more than half her afternoons and evenings. He required her, however, almost every forenoon, and depended on her increasingly, so that all.her arrangments had to be made with reference to him. It was a bondage, but not BO galling in the fact as she would have expected if it had been predicted to her a few months previously. In the first place, Mr. Egremont never demanded of her What was actually against her conscience, except occasionally giving up a Sunday evensong to read the papar to him, and that only when he was more unwell than usual. He was, after all, an English gentleman, and did not ask his youngr daughter to read to him the books which her mother had loathed. Moreover, Gregorio was on his eood behaviour, per fectly aware that there was a family com- bination against him, and having even re- ceived a sort of warning from his master, but by no means intending to take it, and therefore abstaining from any kind of offence that could furnish a fresh handle against him and thus for the present, Dr. Ham- mond's regimen was well observed, and Mr. Egremont was his better self in consequ- ence, for, under his wife's guardianship, the perilous habit had sufficiently lost strength to prevent temper and spirits from manifest- ly suffering fron; abstinence. The first time Nuttie found herself obliged to make any very real sacrifice to her father's will was on the occasion of Mark's marriage at Easter. Things had arranged themselves very convenientily for him at Micklethwayte, though it seemed to Nuttie that she only heard of affairs there in a sort of distant dream, while such events were taking place as once Aould have been to her the greatest possible revolutions. Aunt Ursel reached home safely, but her expectations of illness were realised. She took to her bed on arriving, and though she rose from it, there was reason to think she had had a slight stroke, for her activity of mind and body were greatly decayed, and she was wholly dependent on Mary Nugent for- care and comfort. Mary, remembering the consequences of the former alarm, made the bast of the old lady's condition and Nuttie, ashamed of having once cried " wolf," did not realise the true state of the case, nor indeed could she or would she have been spared to go to Micklethwayte. The next news told that Gerard Godfrey, at the end of the year required by Mr. Dutton, had resigned his situation, and at the close of his quarter's notice was going to prepare for Holy Orders under the train- ing of a clergyman who would employ him in his parish, and assist him in reading up to the requirements for admission to a theo- logical college. Poor dear old Gerard I It gave Nuttie a sort of pang of self reproach tD own how good and devoted he was, and yet so narrow and stupid tuat she could never have been hippy with him. Was he too good, or was he too dull for her Had she forsaken him for the world's sake, or was it a sound instinct that had extiugoished her fancy for him' No one could tell, least of all the parties cencerced. He mis'ht be far above her in spiritual matters, but he was below her in intellectual ones, and though they would always feel for one another that peculiar tenderness left by the possibilities of a first love, no doubt the quarrel over the blue ribbon had been no real misfortune to either. The next tidings were still more surpris- ing. Mr. Dutton was leaving the firm. Though his father had died insolvent, and he had had to struggle for himself in eirly life, he was connected with wealthy people, and change and death among these had brought him a fair share of riches. An uncle who had emigrated to Australia at the time of the great break up had died without other heirs, leaving him what was the more welcome to him that Micklethwayte could never be to him what it had been in its golden age. He had realised enough to enable him to be bountiful, and his part- ing gift to St. Ambrose's would com- plete the church but he himself was winding up the partnership, and with- drawing his means from Greenleaf and Co. in order to go out to Australia to decide what to do with his new possessions. Mark Egremont purchased a number «rf the shares, though, to gratify the family, the shelter of the Greenleaf veiled his name under the "Co.," and another, al- ready in the firm, possessed of a business- like appellation, gave designation to the firm as Greenleaf, Goodenough, and Co. Mr. Button's well-kept house, with the little conservatory and the magnolia, was judged sufficient for present needs, and the ease was taken off his hands, so that all was in order for the marriage of Mark and Annaple immediately after Easter. Lady Delmar had resigned herself to the inevitable, and the wedding was to take place at Lescombe. Nuttie, whose chief relaxation was in hearing all the pros and cons from May and Blanche, was asked to be one of the bridesmaids by Annaple, who had come over to the Rectory in a droll in- scrutable staw of mischief, declaring that she had exasperated Janet to the verge of insanity by declaring that she should have little umbrellas like those in the Persian in- scriptions on her cards, and that Mark was ..- i.„o=„t all the bridesmaids with neat If crinolines had not been gone out this was to be her very dull and desolate, ije J' " pleased," and as she played jtj " looked ve »tteK "'*^"^^goodofitall? 5,fff„?B, "potter's words. "Lo W; 0^ "J^ "em She could pity him now, '9wh 1 could she love one from whom of u, ' 'iatire recoiled, when she thought too hadT u^" '"'"' ^»f* • 'â- - '"»" :sp4ki, 7' her new duties up to her as "5 \^\ ^^"g ennobled: Noble 1 To nut Jo "^^ sporting paper she did not e«M,„,'^^.^f stand, to be ready to play at iivej^„^""Mds, to take that dawdling "V by day, to devote herself to the W^tL-T^ctions of burnt-out diBsipation. S ""^^^ • Her mother had done all «fkef-: °fY« even felt it a croai^ beoanse ?* w '*^*- I* mii^t bo Nuttie'a ccum kto Vf"" "'ity but coald the love md l^ia^bly come thongh die tried to t'aey could'allhave been dressed appropriate- Now they must wear them closelyf nxl- ed An"thi8"banter was hardly whose little sisters were liked by May and Blanche, laughed at again for needing the assurance B~at there thai they were really to wear white and Love him " wrong," said Nattie, for wished much for consent, had she grown fond of Mark and An naple, but she had never been a bridesmaid, and she knew that not only the Eiraldys but Mr. Dutton had been invited she had even ventured an offering to lodge some of the overflowing guests of the Rectory. " Their heads are all turned by that pov- erty-stricken Scotch peeri^e," returned Mr. Egremont " or the Canouess shoald have some sense of respect." Nuttie's wishes were so strong that she made one more attempt, " I need not be a bridesmaid. They would not mind if I wore my black." " I should, then " said her father curtly. " If they- don't understand the proprieties of life, I do. I won't have you have any- thing to do with it. If you are so set upon gaiety, you'll have enough of weddings at fitter times " It was the old sneering tone. Nuttie felt partly confounded, partly indignant, and terribly disappointed. She did Cire for the sight of the wedding â€" her youthful spirits rallied enough for that, but far more now she grieved at missing the sight of Mr. Dutton, when he was going away, she knew not where, and might perhaps come on pur- pose to see her and it also made her sore grieved at being accused of disregard to her mother. She was silenced, however, and presently her father observed, in the Same unpleasant tone, " Well, if you've digested your diaapp ointment, peahaps you'll conde- scend to write to the agent, that I expect the house to be ready on the 2ist." Nuttie got through her morning's work she hardly knew how, though her father was dry and fault-finding all the time. Her eyes were so full of tears when she was released that she hardly saw where she was going, and nearly ran against hex aunt, who had just walked into the hall. Mrs. Egre- mont was too prudent a woman to let her burst .out there with her grievance, but made her come into the tent-room before she exclaimed, " He is going to take me away to London he won't let me go to the wedding." "I am sorry for your disappaintment," said her aunt quietly, " but I am old-fash- ioned enough to he glad that such strong respect and feeling should be shown for your dear mother. I wish Annaple had spoken to me before asking you, and I would have felt the way." " I'm sure it is not want of feeling," said Nuttie, as her tears broke forth. "I did not say it was," returned her aunt, " but different generations have different notions of the mode of showing it and the present certainly errs on the side of neglect of sush tokens of mourning. If I did not think that Annaple and her mother are really uncomfortable at Lescombe, I should have told Mark that it was better taste to wait till the summer." "If I might only have stayed at home â€" even if I did not go to the wedding," sighed Nuttie, who had only half listened to the Canoness's wisdom. " Since you do not go, it is much better that you should be out of the way," said Mrs. Egremont. " Is your father ready to see me?" So Nuttie had to submit, though she pout- ed to herself, feeling grievously misjudged, first as if she had been wanting in regard to the memory of her mother, who had been so fond of Mark, and so rejoiced in his happi- ness and then that her vexation was treat- ed as mere love of gaiety, whereas it really was disappointment at not seeing Mr. Dat- ton, that good, grave, precise old friend, who could not be named in the same breath with vanity. Moreover, she could not help sus- pecting that respect to her mother was af.er all only a cloak to resentment against M-Jirk and his marriage. However, she bethought herself that her mother had often been disappointed and had borne it cheerfully, and after having done what Aunt Ursel would have called "griz- zling" in her room for an hour, she wrote her note to Miss Ruthven and endeavoured to be as usual, feeling keenly that there was no mother now to perceive and gratefully commend one of her only too rare efforts for good hnmour. On other grounds she was very sorry to leave Bridgefield. May had, in her trouble, thawed to her, and they were becoming really affectionate and in- timite companioas, by force of propinquity aud relationship, as well as of the views that May had imbibed from Hu^h Conda- mine. Moreover Nuttie felt her aunt's watch over the baby a great assistance to her own ignorance. However the Canoness had resign- ed to the poor little heir the per- fect and trustworthy nurse, whom Ba- sil had outgrown, and who consented to the transfer on condition of having her nursery establishment entirely apart from the rest of the household. Her reasons were known thongh unspoken, namely, that the rejection of one or two valets highly recom- mended had made it plain that there had been ho dislodgment of Gregorio. The strong silent objection to him of all good female servants was one of the points that told much against him. Martin and the house- keeper just endured him, and stayed on for the present chiefly because their dear lady had actually begged them not to desert her daughter if they could help it, at least not at first. Nuttie bound over her cousins to give her a full account of the wedding, and both of them wrote to her. Blanche's letter record- ed sundry scattered particulars, â€" as to how well the rowan- trimmed tulle dresses looked â€" rhow every one was packed into the car- riages for the long drive â€" how there had been a triumphal arch erected over the Bluepost Bridge itself, and Annaple nearly choked with laughing at the appropriate- nessâ€"how, to her delight, a shower began, and the procession out of the church actual- ly cried out for umbrellas â€" how papa, when performing the ceremony, could not recol â- be really j a jolly present, a lovely silver coffee-pot. Not only jost the one thing they wanted,, and Lady Delmar said he didn't look near so like a tradesman as she expected. I see May is writing too, but I don't know what you will get out of her, as Hugh Coadamine came for the day." Nuttie, however, had more hopes from May. Her letter certainly was fuller oc in- terest, if shorter. " Mr DEAB Ndttieâ€" Blanche has ho doub*; told you all the externals. I suppose there never was a brighter we Iding, tor as An- naple keep3 her mother with her, there was no real rending asunder of ties. Indeed I almost wish her excitement did not always show itselt in laughing, for it prevents peo- ple from understjmdtng how much there is in her. (PUinly Hugh Condamins had been rather scandalised by the ' giggling Scotch girl." "Dear old LidyR3nnisglen was delight- fuL If there were any tears, they were hers, and Li^dy Delmar was very cordial and affectionate. Of course Hugh aud Mr. Dut- ton missed much that one would have liked in a wedding: I drove back with them afterwards, aud it was very interesting to listen to their conversatiou ahout church matters. Hugh is very much struck with your friend he had heard a good deal about Micklethwayte before, and says that such a. lay worker ^is perfectly invalu- able. It is a great pity that he is not going on in -the firm, it would make it so much nicer for Mark but he says he has duties towards his new property. I think he was sorry not to find you at home, but he plainly never thought it pos- sible you should be at the wedding. I don't know whether I ought to tell you this, but I think you ought to know it. There is a lovely new wreath of Eucharist lilies and maiden- hair at dear Aunt Alice's grave, close against the rails at the feet and Hugh told me that he looked out of his window very early yesterday morning and saw Mr. Dutton standing there, leaning on the rail, with his bare head bowed between his hands. You csin't think how it impressed Hugh. He said he felt reverent towards him all through that day,*and he was quite angry with Rjsalind and Adela for jesting because, when the shower began as we were coming out of church, Mr. Datton rushed up with an umbrella, being the only person there who had one, I believe. Hugh says you may be proud of such a friend. I wish you could have seen Hugh. â€" Your affection- ate cousin, Margaret Egremont. (to BE CONTINUED.) MEN, DON'T BE SELFISH. ^wan eav^and i;;rrieB-the RonnUglen hadffe. Nnttie who had drawn much nearer toMty. refrained from relating P«t of the story at home, but was much disappomt- S wS on teUingiher father ofthe request, aha was answered at once »Heinl Tt»« 24thT Youll be in Lon- don, and a very good thing too. «» Are we to go BO soon T w^Jn hatter than to ai* you in your deep SSdiTlSSfht women made agr-at A Little Talk With Husbands. il{How often we hear the remark that good boys grow into good men aud bad boys into bad men. i do not suppose there is a man living, who in his boyhood had any moral training, that did not have the maxim pre- sented to him in some form every day of his life, and did not have some other boy point- ed out as a shining example which he ought to imitate in order to be good and happy. And to a certain extent it is true that the pattern b3y becomes a pattern man, for as the twig is bent the tree is inclined. Acorns grow into oaks, if they grow at all, and the down from the thistle top becomes in time another thistle. But there are exceptions to all rules. The acorn may become an oak, but a very gnarled and unsightly one, and the man who has grown from toe typical good boy may htve in him qualities which make him anything but a saint at home, where it is somstimes good, pious work for his wife to live and bear with him. I know of such aa instance where the boy, who was held up as a rule for other boys to follow, when grown to manhood, broKe the heart of the woman he had made his wife. Ruth- lessly trampling upon all the sacred ties of paternal and wedded love, he left her and his child, without a sign that he was going, and for many a year never looked upon their faces. Intemperance was, in a measure, the cause of this, but not altogether fori under- lying all the man's good qualities, and he had memy, was one. glaring fault, a fault that is often found even in the patterii boy, especially if he has come up alone, with no brothers to squabble with over his knife and ball and string â€" no sisters to " take him down," as the sayin? is, and show him him^ self as others see him, demanding from him a portion of his time and attention, and teaching him that there is some one in the world besides himself. Sel- fishness wrecked the life of the young man whose boyhood promised so much, and next to intemperance and some of the more glaring vices, it has, I think, made more uncomfortable and unhappy homes than any other questionable traiu of character. The boy who has never been taught to give up his pleasure or comfort for another's, who has everything his own way, and who, while Seeming to submit cheerfully to what- ever his parent J think best for him, onlv does so because they first ascertain what his wishes are and then adopt them as their own, seldom makes as good a husband as the boy who fights his way through with half a dozan or more children, giving up some- times, and agin getting his own way, but piving up the oftener, even when justice is on his side. Selfish men seldom become good husbands, and when they do it is after many a hard fought battle in which the wife comes off victor, and he wakes up to find that the world was not all made for him. And for this reason, if for no other, I approve of early marriages, before habits have be- come so fixed that only a domestic cyclone can uproot them. I have seen a man who stood high in the world's esteem because he was so honorable and upright in all his deal- ings and seemingly bo kind and devoted to his wife â€" a sensitive, delicate woman,' with more nerve than phyaical strength, and service 1 ud away to rest, leaving him strand* " td and alone, and, thank heaven, he is aloD« still, for no other wom.n h«ii taken her place, and I trust she never wHL- A man Co be a thoroughly good hnsbAod must be sin unselfish one, exacting no mora !rom his wife thau he is willing to render in return, rnmemberiug always that if he has his cares and worries she also has hers, and often-times in larger proportion than hit own. At first thought it would seem that a mtu bears the greatest burden, inasmuch as the maintenance of the family usually devolves upon him, but in many casea, where the parties are not wealthy, the wife's lot is the harder, and h-r cares a good deal more wearing because of their multiplicity and long c intinuance. The man leaves hia at his counting house, or office, or work- shop and goes home to his cigar and hia slippers and his evening paper, while the woman's never ends until the last restlesa child is in be 1 and the last little garment is msnded. Aud even then her mind is on the next morning's breakfast, which she superintends if she does not prepare it her* self. Her husband knows nothing of it uncil it is ready, and he swallows it rapidly and hurries off, often without a word, or the good- by kiss, which would keep her happy all day long and lightens every duty. Men â- too often omit the little things, which, small as they are, make up the sum of a woman'a happiness. It is the little fox which spoils the vines, and the little sliver in the thumb which makes one forget all the health of the body until the sliver is out. And it is the little attentions and efforts to shield from care and trouble, the kind words of syrapa- .. thy or commsnlatian and tjid tender careaa which tell thit love has not died out, and which keep the fire upon the altar bright. never like to see a man leave or enter hia home without a word of greeting or fare- well for his wife- But this is often done, al- though were a stranger present this courtesy to him would no^ be omitted. Then why not treat your wife as politely as you do a strang- er You are ready enough to open or shut the car window for^the pretty girl oppisite you, while your wife beside you might break ' her back trying to open her wiudo before you knew that she wanted i' opoa. This she sees and reseats, for she likes attention/ 'â- now as well as she did befow she was mar- ried, and why not give it to her ?; And when you go home at night and find her jaded and worn, think of some way ia which to help her, instead of finding fault with your sur-. rouudings aud hurling harsh words at her, if you do not sometimes break the third com- mandment, in your zeal to be emphatic. She is just as tired as you are and. has worked aa many hourslatjhome, battling with thejchildren and servants, or, when there are none of the latter, battling with the monotonous house- work, doing the same things to-day which she did yesterday and knows shs will have to do to-morrow, until it is not strange that she b3com33 distiearteued aud thinks her life is " one eternal grind," like poor M'tn- â- ' tilini, who, however, used a stronger adjec- tive than I have done. And while she haa been so bisy, with scarcely a thought ba yond the kitchen aud the cook stove, ycu have bsen out into the world and heard what it was doing and felt its pulse b3ating against'your own, and mingled withyourkind, and in one sense you go home much fresher than your wife, to whom you can at least give a loving word, which is of more import- ance thau you think for. You little dream how hungry she gets for some sign that love is not dead, although it miy be so crusted over with thoughtlessness aud self that ia seldom seen. Kind words cost nothing, and if they were- more frequent lovs aud happiness would linger longer by the hearthstone, where now there are bitter replnings for the pist, aud hard, resentful feelings as the wife bears her burden alonej uncheered, uuhelped, and, as she believes, uncared for by her husbind. Mary J. Holmes. lect that the bride's proper name was Anna- more unselfishness in her little finger than bella, and would dictate it as Anna-Maria, Sir John correcting him each time aoUo v3ci how Basil and little Hilda Delmar walked togelher and "looked like a couple of ducks," which, it was to be hoped, was to be taken metaphoricallyâ€" how dreadfully hard the ice on the wading- cake was, ao that when Annaple tried to out it the knife slipped and a little white dove flew away and hit May, which every one said was a ^rand omen that she should he the next toide, bride, while of course Annaple was perfect- ly helpneas with mirth. Every one said it wsa the merriest wedding ever aeen, for the brides only tears were those of langhtor. What Nnttie really cared tvr most cuiis juat at tlie end, and not mnoli ct tiiat. "Your lir. Dnttmi is joat gone. Hegoton fsmowdy with Hii|^ CaoduniBS, aad I for- got to tall yon that ha has ghran her husband had in his whole body. He always called her wife, with a peculiar ten- derness in the tone of his voice, for he was very fond of her, but fonder of himself, to whom she was a slaveâ€" coming- and going at his bidding, ministering to hu wants, hu- moring his whims, which were so many, making all his wishes paramount to her own. The easiest chair and warmest spot and cosiest nook, were for him, whom sue served as if he had been her king. If she wished to go out in the evening, as she often did, for she was socially inclined, and he wiahed to atay at home, ahe atsid at home, and gave no sign of ha diaappointment, bat amilwl as sweetly and waited ap«» Uaa as oamfnlly aa if Ashadno widi except to do his wilL Bat Hm Imm heart failed at last, sad the hasfaand lived toseetiie williog fsetaod tired iMndi wliiohjhadwom thsnssbis oat in his Gipsy Shrewdness. .. It is impossible not to be struck by the originality and cleverness of the Spanish gipiiej even in their vices. A gipsy man was at confession oue day, aud whilst he was confessing he spied in the pocket of the monk's habit a silver snuff box -ud stole it. "Father," he said immediately, "I accuse myself of having stolen a silver sauff box." "Then, my son, you must certainly re- store it. " " Will you have it yourself, my father?' "I! Certainly not," answered the cou- fessor. " The fact is," proceeded the gipsy, " that I have offered it to its owner and he has re- fused it. " Then you can keep it with a good can- ssience," answered the father. • 'â- Notes on Noses. Man is the only animal that blows his nose. The alUgator has a nose nearly two feet long, and he never blows it. The elephant can reach over his nose and tickle his hiad legs, and he of cen does, but he never wipes it. The blue-nosed baboon has a cerulean pro- boscis of which the noblest anim%l might be proud, but it goes unblown. The double- nosed pointer has immense capacity for blowing, but he never will and the oyster, whose nose reaches clear round his back, refrains from exercising it. Man alone has reached the height of a pocket-handker- chief, and he proudly waves his cambric as a suffi dent evidence of his superiority. The Oldest Living MonarcL By the death of Emperor William of (Jer- many, William U£., King of the Nether- lands, will become the doyen of reigning monarchs. He was born February, 1817, Dom Pedro of Brazil has been the longest on the throne, having succeeded his father, who abdicated in April, 1831. Alfonso, King of Spain, is the youngest of the list of rulers â€" X. r. World. Last week a St. Louis Wheelman had a twelve-mile race with a greyhound, but before six miles had been run the dog ahow ed signs of fatigue, and had to be watered and sponged. The canine was completely " used up at the finiah. The importance of Ontario's durying in- terests was well brought out ia the ooorae of a debate in the Ontario Legisltnre last week. In 1887 there were in Ontario 80O cheeae factories, with 43,000 patrana and 270,000 cows, yielding 650,000,000 poandaoC milk, which waa made into 66,530,000 lbs. of cheese, bringhig in tiie maricet 17,000,0001 Canada sappUed Great Britain with 66,000^* 000 lbs of cheese, as sgainst 143,000,000 Ibi^ of oheass sent ftoBB aUothari "'^^W!* •IS- Sli) %t'i.- ' â- â- ir-" ir'"-M |:.-.r.;|- r: 'i' ;.• |: ;;: -V..:-;r ,|,,i â- •^^^il4:,A Wm -*â- â- â- i, â- -ill 'f^l -^^- -n" jri. ^J^ â- m;