The Cardigan Observer and General Advertiser for the Counties of Cardigan Carmarthen and Pembroke

ISABEL'S JOjpS. A CONNECTICUT STOFTV. J.. The yellow narcissus was in bloom in the little yard that fronted the village post-office; the maple trees had dropped their red stars long ago, and here and there one found pink clusters of honey-sweet trailing arbutus in the woods. Isabel Islay had a bunch in the front of her jacket as she sauntered up to see if there were any letters for her, but they were no pinker than her cheeks. A little group of men and women had assembled there for the same purpose. The women eyed Isabel, and wondered how it was that her dresses always fitted so stylishly; the men looked admiringly at her big blue eyes and rosy complexion. Two or three other mill girls joined Isabel; they laughed and talked gaily as the spectacled old post- master sorted the mails. At last the unpainted pine partition slid back, the spectacles appeared in the aperture and the post- master cried briskly: Naow, then! Who wants their mail ?" Isabel stepped forward. Anything for me, Mr. Rtder ? she asked. Islay, Miss 1. Isabel Islay. Miseltiabelll I" read out the old man. "Three for you. a Who next ?" "Isabel gets all the letters!" giggled the mill girls, as Isabel received her treasures. She might divide with us! Here comes Miss Seaman. Now for some fun!" A pallid, pinched, old-young lady here advanced with a smirk on her countenance, wearing a faded shawl, whose folds scarcely covered the flat basket that she carried. Anything for me, Mr. Postmaster ? she demanded, with ill-simulated indifference. No, mum," carelessly answered the postmaster. Are you sure?" Yeat mum." A blank expression crept across her face. Oh But it really doesn't signify. I thought I'd just inquire, as I chanced to be passing." Then she withdrew amid the very audible titters of the mill girls. There ain't a mail comes in but Miss Genny Seaman's here a watching for it," said the postmaster oracularly. And she never gits a letter—not so much as a postal card. I should think she'd git tired of coming." Miss Genevieve Seaman 1" said the careworn woman of the house where the girls boarded. Oh, that all happened years ago! She had a beau or something, and he went away—nobody just knew something, and he went away—nobody just knew where. Reckon she didn't know herself. And it sort of upsot her brain, and she hain't fairly sehce. She's a very good dressmaker, and she trims a bonnet quite scrumptiously, and so she earns a decent living. But she s been expecting a letter these, twenty odd years, and it's never come." Girls," said Isabel Islay, as they sat at the round I table that evening, laugning and talking, let's write a letter to that poor old thing from her lover in the Bast." Was he really her lover, Isabel ?" asked Lucy Felton. Well, from the man she imagined to be her lover. Let's make it fervent. as fire and sweet as sugar. Let's lay it on thick." In short, let's playa joke on Miss Gei ny Seaman," said Mary Crane, who was re-trimming an old straw hat with lilac ribbons and a bunch of violets. II Just that," said Isabel. "But you don't even know the fellow's name, Isabel." "I can find that out. Mrs. Webb knows, and I can easily coax it Out of her. It will be such fun It was morning—a blue^s^yed, breezy day, with the air full of growing scents and bluebird whistles-- and soon after the cumbrous old four-horse stage had crashed through the Connecticut village, the usual i crowd began to assemble in the little post-office. Isabel May was there, and Lucy Felton, and black- eyed Mary Crane and presently Miss Genevieve Seaman tripping in with the peculiar gait which the i irreverent village children compared to a cat walking n i upon walnut shells. „ Two for Miss Islay," said the old man, scrutinising i each letter with provoking slowness." One for Squire Zurubbable Jenkins; one for Widder Hopper, and one for—Miss—Genevieve—Seaman!" Isabel fluhed a merry glance at her companions as the poor little dressmaker tiptoed up to the counter, her colour changing from saffron to scarlet, her faded blue eyes full of intent rapture. Is it true? A letter for—me! And I've waited for it all these years All-tbeAe-Years She hid it under her shawl, cast a defiant look around at the neighbours' faces, and hurried away like a startled wild animal to its cover. She could not open that letter with other eyes upon her. She felt that she must treasure it to herself hke one who has discovered a precious jewel. On her way home from the mill that evening, Isabel Islay stopped at the little house where the'tin lign, Millinery and Dressmaking," swung creaking in the wind. The window blinds wtetf £ fastened bdek, the parlour Was opened and dusted. Miss Genevieve was moving to and fro in her best* India silk gown, with a flawer pinned fanta«tieally>ib her hair. A round red snot flowed oh each cheek her bony fingers trembiea with excitement as she laid down her spectacles. Can you press over my Leghorn hat, Miss Sea- man asked the beauty. Ob, my dear, I'm afraid act f said the little woman, with an hysterical laugh. /'Haven't you heard? I—I'm to bettharried very soon! -Captain Edward Gleason—you may peirhaps have heard of him-he used to be a resident of Miutown—he has made his fortune, it seems, in New York, and he's coming back almost directly to—to claim an old ftroinise I made him 20 jears ago. My dear, be has oved me—20 year*! Her eyes shone, her voice faltered with the ecstasy of her soul. And to- morrow he is coming back to me. Oh, Miss Islay, it seems almost like a dream She laughed again, but her eyes were full of tears. Isabel moved uneasily; she was almost frightened at what she had done. The joke did not seem half so jocose as it had at first, since poor Miss Genevieve accepted it in such dead earnest. She took advantage of the entranoe of a customer to slip out of the little shop. Girls," said she to her co-conspirators, we must tell her that—that it is only a joke." "Tell her!" echoed Lucy Felton. What. for?. She'll find it out soon enough. She needn't have been such a silly, anyhow It will kill her pleaded Isabel. No, it won't. People don't die so Many," laughed Lucv. • Heard the news about Miss Genny Seaman ?' said Mrs. Webb, at the boarding-house breakfast table the next morning, as she poured the coffee and helped the eggs and, bacon around. Isabel looked guiltily up. •« No," said she. What is it ?" Found dead in her cheer," said Mrs. Wjebb. A smilin' as happy as a child. Some heart trouble, the doctor says." Isabel drew a long breath. So she had died, and never known how cruelly she had been deceived* She drew Mary Crane and Miss Felton aside. Girls," said she, you must never breathe a syllable of this to anybody. Let the secret die with this poor little, woman." But she died happy at last, said Mary, with the tears running down her cheeks. Belieying that her oldsweetheart was coming back to her," "Yes, but that doesn't justify our cruelty," whispered Isabel. And then and there the three girls entered into a compact of secrecy. Miss Genevieve was buried hi a shady corner of the village cemetery, and on the very day of the funeral Isabel Islay met a tall bearded stranger walking along the street, scanning the houses with keen, troubled eyes. Can you tell me," said he, w here Miss Seaman lives—Miss Genevieve Seaman ?" Isabel started. "Miss Seaman was bnried this morning,"said she. "Oh, lam so sorry! Was the a friend of yours?" They had stopped opposite the little gate where the wheel-tracks of the hearse were yet visible. The sign Milliner and Dressmaker yet creaked in the wind, the red sun was sinking behind the low eaves, and Miss Genny's cat rubbed itself against the doorsill as if begging to be let in. A friend!" repeated the stranger, as he drew an old-fashioned miniature from his pocket. See, here is her picture I' I've waited all these years to make a home for her—and now—she is dead Isabel looked at the picture. Good heavens! had Genevieve Seaman ever looked as. fair and dimpled and smiling as that ? And th&thought lfashedacross her "mind that it was .well that this. Captain Gleason had not been undeceived. "Yes," she repeated softly, she is dead." '■ And you were her friend ?" Yes, I was her friend—at least as much aa-any one here," falteringly owned Isabel, feeling like an impostor. Then perhaps you can tell me something of her. I waited to surprise her—and now His voice was choked; he turned his face away. Isabel told him, in a low, soft voice, all that she could—all that was good and cheering and hopeful— and Captain Gleason went back to the village hotel, walking slowly, with his hands behind his back, and his head drooping on his breast. For the time he truly mourned the sweetheart of his youth, but no one can grieve forever. Moss grows over the fallen tree; violets bloom above the new-made grave. Poor Miss Genevieve was dead and buried, and when the next summer blossomed over the land, Captain Gleason was married to Isabel Islay. If death was really so near her, I'm glad I wrote the letter that made her happy," thought Isabel. And Edward will always think of her as young and beautiful! But I never, never will play another practical joke

HINTS TO HOUSEWIVES. STOVE lustre, when mixed with turpentine ana applied in the usual manner, is blacker and more glossy than when mixed with any other liquid, and the turpentine also prevents rust. CHICKEN WITH Rlell (Poult au riz h la MUanaise). —Truss a fowl as for boiling, putting a couple of onions inside it, lard it with bacon, and put it to braise in a stewpan, with slices of bacon, carrots, onion, sweet herbs, spices, pepper, and salt to taste moisten with some good stock, and during the process of cooking frequently baste the breast of the fowl with the liquor. Pick and wash quite clean ilb. of rice, put it to boil in plenty of salted water when the grains begin to burst drain off the water, cover the rice with a damp cloth, and let it remain by the side of the fire till quite dry. Take equal parts of the liquor in which the fowl is braising and tomato sauce, and work them into the rice with plenty of grated Parmesan cheese, until you get it to a proper consistency, then make a border with it round the dish, lay the fowl in the middle with a little of th« gravy under it, hold a salamander over the breast to give the larding a nice colour, and serve. ONION SOUP.—Take half a pound of nice fresh butter, put it into a large saucepan, and let it melt slowly, but not brown at all. Cut up very finely 10 good-sized onions, put them into the melted butter, dredge in a little flour, and let the onions stew slowly for 15 or 20 minutes, stirring them occasionally. Then pour in one quart of boiling water, dredge in a little more flour, and mix all well together. Add a teacupful of sweet milk and boil for 15 minutes, stirring often. Beat up the yolks of two eggs, and after the soup is taken from the fire stir them in rapidly for a few minutes. Serve with bits of toasted bread in the tureen. Season with salt and pepper, but not till just before taking up, as the butter will nearly salt it enough. HOT MILK AS A STIMULANT—Of hot milk at t stimulant the Medical Record says: Milk heated too much above 100 deg. Fahr., loses for a time a degree of its sweetness and its density. No one who, fatigued by over-exertion of body or mind, has ever experienced the reviving influence of a tumbler of this beverage, heated as hot as it can be sipped, will willingly forego a resort to it because of its being rendered somewhat less acceptable to the palate. The prompt mess with which its cordial influence is felt is indeed surprising. Some portion of it seems to. be digested and appropriated almost immediately; and many who now fancy, they need alcoholic stimulants when exhausted by fatigue will find in this simple draught an equivalent that will be abundantly satisfying and far more enduring in its effects." Rvz BREAD.—Many cooks fancy that it is a great undertaking to make rye bread, and to have it good. Here are directions for making it, and if carefully followed the bread will be excellent: Take two cupt of Indian meal; make in athiek batter with scalding water; when cool add a small cup of white bread sponge, a little sugar and salt, and a teaspoonful of soda, dissolved. Inthis stii as much rye as is possible with a spoon; let it rtse uiltil it. is very light, then work in with your hand as much rye as you can, but do not knead it, as that will make it hard; put it in buttered bread tins, and let it rise for about 15 minutes, then bake for an hour and a half, cooling the oven gradually for the last 20 minutes.

A NEW telephonic invention haa been tested, and proved to answer perfectly. By its means a conversa- tion was kept up from Dunkerque to Marseilles and back again, a distance of over 740 miles. THE Duke of Fernan-Nunez, who has just died, was very well known in London, He was an ardent sportsman, and owned a stud of racehorses, hit colours being familiar to the racing world of the Con- tinent. The Duke spent his life in the diplomatic service of his country, and he was Spanish Ambaspador to the French Republic. He came of a very old Spanish family, and possessed many re- sidences and estates, including the beautiful palace in Madrid and his seat La Flamenca, where he died. He was the father-in-law of the Duke of Alba; his sons, the Marquis of Castell-Moncayo and the Marquis de la Mma, occupy prominent positions in the political world. TUB French papers announce that the Marquis of Dufferin is preparing a thorough report on the present state of France. The lines are those followed by his Excellency while Ambassador to the Quiripal. The financial and military chapters have been seat to the Foreign Office. It appears that the Ambassador's estimate of the military strength of France and the discipline of her army is very nigh.. IT i. said that every duel fought in France costs the heroes over £15 each. If the matter is to be thus financially regarded, the French Government has a chance of raising money by putting a round tax on each duel; hot jÀiJ mioht ouL&Jtoo to duelling.

I BITS FOR boys AND GIRLS. CHILDREN'S COMPANIONS. Children are so imitative and impressionable that, without any thought or intention on their part, they copy the sayings and doings, acquire the character and imbibe the spirit, of those persons with whom they associate. We all know how easily men and women are influenced by thpir companionships, and this is far more likely to be the case with regard to children. Intercourse with a stranger, sometimes for only a single day, will make a mark upon the character of a child which will endure for years to come, while any one whom the children very much admire, if brought, into ploae.communion with -them, will be imitated right off. Therefore you can always calculate with certainty that the people, whether young or ol/d, whom you. allow tp be round about your children will have,, an immense influence in moulding and fashioning their character. There is in all character, whether good or bad, a kind of instinct which, so to speak, makes its possessor take pleasure in propagating it in others. A good man has a delight in making others good; a bad man not only instinctively hates goodness and loves badness, and finds pleasure in the company of those who do the same, but seizes every opportunity of making others like himself.—Parents' Review. WNGPLAR COMBAT. A resident in Texas tells.of a remarkable fight he witnessed between a large tarantula and a colony of red ants: In the afternoon of one day he encountered a large specimen of the tarantula, which abounds in Texas. He did not dare to touch or even go near the deadly insect, which was about five inches in length and of a rather greenish hue; but he got a long stick, one end of which he split, &&d, by a dexterous manipulation, secured the tarantula between the prongs, which, coming, together, held it tight enough to prevent its escape but not enough to injure it. He repaired with it to a hill of large red ants, which he had passed on his tramp a short time before. In the middle of the hill he deposited the tarantula, releasing it from its imprisonment. It was rather a chilly day, and but few ants were out of their holes; but these few gathered around the stranger, looked at it closely for a biief moment, and then one by one hurriedly entered the different small holes within which were their domiciles. The tarantula meanwhile was motipnless, occasionally blinking its small, sharp eyel. but not deigning to glance upon the ctnall insects. But presently came forth the ants in a body. Although the tale-bearers had entered the hill by different holes, the warriors all issued from the same one. First, came a large ant, and then the others, so closely upon the heels of each other that the lme looked like a blood-red string. The side of the- tarantula was about four inches from where the ants issued from the cone, and they made-straight for the enemy without loss of time. The large one in the lead pounced upon one of the furry legs, and the others got their teeth in as near by as possible. There seemed to be an almost unend- ing string of the ants, and in a minute and a half the entire body of their victim was covered with them. After that the tarantula did not move a limb scarcely, I At first it attempted to pull away the leg attacked by the ants, but finding it fastened, it shoved along with the disengaged legs, moving perhaps an inch and a half r but the remainder of its body was- soon covered with-the insects, which devoted part of their forccto holding the -victim in place;. — The tarantula only killed three of the ants. These three ventured within reach of the jaws of the tarantula, which closed its month with a snap, ending their existence instanter. In four minutes the tarantula was dead. There was not a sign of blood anywhere on its body, though in many places were evidences of the fray. Near the head were scars showing the ants bad bitten deepest. Shortly after it closed its eyes and allowed its head to sag, many of the anta withdrew. but when there was a convulsive jerk of one log, the ants ran up again, and this time remained till every sign of animation was gone. Then the ants removed the corpse. It was a heavy body to move, but they accomplished it. On the rather flat top of the hill the pull was hard and long, but on the incline it was easier. Arrived at the foot. the ants deserted the corpso and returned to their homes, some entering tlho holes, others resuming the work they had been interrupted at when the tarantula came among them. AT Tn. KQCATOR. It is generally supposed that Equatorial Africa is the warmest place on earth, but it is not. The nights in the torrid zone frequently are cold. Travellers sleep. right over the equator, under a quilt and a pair of blankets. During the hottest month in Central Africa the thermometer never registers above 00 degrees. The interior of Equatorial Africa is not low land, not a steaming jungle as is commonly supposed; the land rises as you go in from the coast, plateau on plateau, until it is from three to five thousand feet above sea level, and we all know that with every 300 feet of ascent the thermometer falls a degree. KEMOR" AND GRATMJDJ. IN ANIMALS. The following incident is related of a celebrated lion-tamer named Martin. It is to illustration of what anyone can discover for himself. or herself by kindly treating domestic animals—any of which remember kindness or unkindness. After Martin had retired to private life he one day made up his joina to pay a visit to hi. former large menagerie, which he had not seen for five years. It was in Brussels, and he started from his country seat near Rotterdam. At four o'clock, the time for feed- ing, he entered the menagerie. It was winter, and Martin was wrapped in a long cloak. He mingled with the crowd and waited until the animals had received their food, for which they were waiting with. impatience. While they were eating he began to cough. Suddenly the animals stopped eating and listened then they broke into wild howls of joy and tore at the iron bars, so that many timid visitors fled from the menagerie. The parrots, pelicans, kangaroos and monkeys commenced to screech and scream; the hyenas and wolves howled; in short, it was a perfect bedlam. Then Martin stepped forward. With his powerful voice and a movement of his hand he commanded silence, and suddenly everything was quiet. He swung himself over the bar which separated the visitors from the animals, put his hand in the cages and fondled the beasts. A big tigresa showed moro joy than any of the others. When Martin's band travelled over her magnificent fur her limbs trembled nervously, she uttered weak, tender grunts, and through the iron bars, with her rough tongue, licked the face of her former master. When he went away ahe lay down without eating any more food. In one of the cages was a lion named Nero, who had once bitten Martin in the hip, and had been leverelypuoisbed by his master, for whom he ever after had a terrible hatred. When Martin approached his cage, the lion made no more motion than to lift his head and eye him intently. He remained in his place, lying still in tliè back of his cage when Martin came near. Martin spoke to him; he did not answer, but viewed him with apparent indiffer- ence. But when Martin was going away the lion, with a mighty spring, wholly unexpected, threw himself against the grating, pushed his paws through the iron bars, and with his claws tore off a pait of Martin's cloak. By a quick movement he escaped another injury from this animal. Thus you see what a good memory this old Nero had, and the grudge against bis master had lasted all these five years. NAMES FOR BABIEB. A Hindoo baby is named when it is 12 days old, usually by the mother. Sometimes the fathor wishes forf another name than that selected by the mother; in that case two lamps are placed over the two names, and the name over which the lamp burns the brightest ia the one given to the child. In the Egyptian family the parents choose a name for their baby by lighting three wax-candles; to each ef these they give a name, one of the three always belonging to some dignified personage. The candle that burns the longest bestowa the name upon the baby. The Mohammedans some- times write desirable names on five slips of paper, and these they place in the Koran. The name upon the first slip drawn out is given to the child. The Chinese care so little for their girl-babies that they do not give them » haby-name, but just call them Number One, Number Two, Number Three, according to their birth. Boys are thought so much more of in China than girls are that, if one happens to ask a Chinese father who has both a boy and a girl how many children he has, he will always reply: "Opiy one child."

A WESTERN stump-orator, in the course of one of hi) speeihea, remarked, "Gentlemen, if the Parsyfic Ocean wor an inkstand, and the hull clouded canopy of heaven and the level ground of our yearth wora iheet of paper, I couldn't begin to write my love of jountrv on to it." AT the close of a concert, saya a New York paper, while a young gentleman was struggling with his bat, cane, overcoat, opera-glass, and his young lady's fan, all of which he was trying to retain on hit lap, a sus- picious-looking black bottle from the overcoat pocket fell on the floor with a loud thud. There," he ex- claimed to his companion, I shallloee my cough medicine." There was presence of mind for you A LADV recently asked her servant how the mustard- pot bad become cracked. The reply, made with all gravity, was that she did not know, but supposed that it must have been that the mustard WMfO Btrong that it caused the fraetur,

r DRESS OF THE DAY. Many of the newest afternoon dresses are made with ribbons sewn into the shoulder seams, crossing each other above the waist and coming round to the front to be tied in a bow with long ends, isibbon is also brought from the front of the neck and tied in s very small" cauliflower bow at the back, with nc ends. Sometimes the belt is composed of ribbon passed several times round the waist with long ends From five yards to 14 are needed for this arrange- ment. according to the width of the ribbon and the length of the waist. The most becoming belt is made of one piece of rather wide ribbon passed through a deep buckle so as to form a point in front. i I NURSERY AFFAIRS. Here we have a baby's nannel blanket with em- broidered border, and also a nurse's cap. These we have borrowed from our always reliable contemporary the Sear on. Glimpses of. the doings of the avant couriers of London fashion show, according to a Daily New, nith.intv, that the two extremes are destined to be, tbe coming season, constantly visible at the ruiiie lime. One costume will be made up of the plainest possible skirt, wholly untrimmed, a bodice equally unadorned, and a coat whose contour is almost a burlesque of simplicity, with its loose shape- liness of back and humpiness about the shoulders. The accompanying hat will probably be uncompro- misingly straight of brim, with no trimming beyond It band of ribbon round the crown. Another toilet will be composed of the richest materials, such as brocade and embroidered crepe intermingled with the curliest passementeries in which threads of gold und silver serve to enmesh the most delicate Aracbnfan traceries of fine stitchery, brightened h, aimuluted emerald, ruby, turquoise, or amethyst. The bonnet OT hat, with its curious little crown, into which no bead larger than a kitten's could ever fit, is aH-tmi-broidery^engarlHnded. with Tartificial, lowm. The yokes of some of the new dressesare made entirely of the richest brocades, or even more costly fabrics, into which beads have been woven in the process of manufacture. A pink velvet shot with gold, and shimmering with gold beads, is not con- sidered too brilliant for this purpose. Some of the shaded velvets are even more abundantly imbued with colour. In a black gown the sleeves are in velvet, shaded through all the tones of orangeand mauve. Re- garded merely as a bit of colour, these sleeves area feast to the eyes of us islanders, whose love of brightness ia hue is nearly always pinched and starved; but as forming the coverings of the human arms they are a mistake, causing this portion of the frame to become unduly prominent. Another form in which elabora- tion appears is the often very costly lace that forms th" trimming of the bodice, but this remains a life- long posfession, as jewels do, and cannot therefore be impenched as an extravagance. This lace trimming is now so general among the well-dressed as to be quite monotonous. It is to be seen in white, black, or cream colour, upon at least three-fourths of the nomen in every fashionable assembly. Beautiful as the lace itself very often is, the effect is obscuring to the graceful outline of shoulder which distinguishes many Englishwomen. The lace is gathered in at the base of the collar, and falls over the fulness at the top of the sleeves, descending some- times in a slight curve at the back, and forming a jabot in front. Imitations of Irish point are the favourite lace for these, but those who possess suit- able lengths of old point, Honiton, old Swiss or Maltese laces, utilise them in this way on afternoon and visiting costumes. I CORSBLtT BODIM. Above is a corselet bodice of mastic erepoo, under-bodice and elbow sleeves with revers of the velvet, for the idea of which we are indebted to the unimpeachable Myra. Silk cord edging the corselet and revera and over the shoulders. Bonnets are growing tmailer and smaller, and are already reduced to dimensions so small that from one view or other of the wearer's head they are oftea quite invisible. A tiny fan of black lace, with a eauliffower of yellow baby ribbon measuring jm inch and a half in diameter, composes one specimen of this rather decorative than protective headgear. The strings are very often the principal part of the bonnet, and if weighed against the latter in a separate scale, would bring it down. A bow of gold gauze ribbon, for instance, laid on a ruche of light black lace, is supplemented by a pair of velvet strings. Unfortunately, there seems to be some disposition to revive the chignon. More than one of these, encased in nets, has been seen in the most fashionable London outdoor circles, surmounting a very smart toilet. The fashion of wearing invisible nets over the triage finds its adherents. It is convenient, because it enables its followers to dispense with the veil, which makes the face so hot in summer. The chief reason for this veil is to keep the hair tidy, but as this mission is accomplished by the net, the veil is superfluous. The former, however, cannot be commended on any grounds but those of convenience. Though dubbed invisible, it is only so when resting on the hair, the effect of its meshes on brow and cheek being dis- agreeable to the ordinary spectator and distract- iugly puzzling to the short-sighted, who cannot account for the fine lines of the silken net, and waste time and thought in an endeavour to solve be problem. The sailor hat of this season is scant of brim again. Some of the brims are flat, while others are curved. Each variety finds its own adherents. None of the very large shapes have been worn this season. The boat hat, under several new names, is still in favour, and is tr\mmed with velvet to match the colohrs of the dress wornwllb it. Many of the new hats are ruched he brim with black lace. It is a season of ruches, whether in lace or ribbon. They border the skirts of gowns, edge the short sleeves that are again coming in to render long gloves necessary, and form the frontier of quite a fourth of the bonnets worn. Donkeys' ears are still in vogue as a trimming for hats and bonnets. They may occasionally be appro- priate, but one may hope that this is not so in every instance, for many a woman wears them, painfully wired to a perfect realism, who is quite unconscious 'of any possible application.

OUT West" they eat raw eggs with vinegar, pppprr, pud salt, and call them prairie oysters. 'l'w.' cV>!our of a girl's hair is regulated by the father's paeh etatMs. You sever heard a rich girl described as "with red hair." A f'CfRHKSPi-NDEKT at n New England eamp meeting writes that n young man asked the prayers of the assembly bfcaus6.be could not sit down to a meal without ear >na three times an much as he ought"

NOTEWORTHY AND NEW. SELECTIONS PROM CURRENT LITERATURE. BOMBARDING THE mncHY. Theislano of St. Thomas, in the West Indies, has near its shores the Ship Rock, which appears, when seen from a short distance, almost precisely like a full-rigged ship under canvas. If the sky is clouded and the atmosphere hazy, the illusion is remarkable. M. M. Ballou repeats in Equatorial America the story of a mortifying mistake made by a French corvette while cruising in these latitudes. It was at a time when the buccaneers were making great havoc with legitimate pommefce in the West Indies. It seems that the coast was partially hidden by a fog when the corvette made out this rock, and, supposing it to be a ship under sail, fired a gun to leeward to bid her heave to. Of course there, was no response to the shot, and the Frenchman brought his ship closer and cleared the decks for action. Satisfied that he had to do with a powerful adversary, he discharged the whole of his starboard armament into the supposed ship looming through the mist. The corvette we(nt tfbout, and prepared to deliver her port guns in a similar manner. Then th e fog slowly dispersed, and the rock smiled grimly on its assailants. GETTING UP A MATINEE. When I die I am sure that if anybody troubles to look at my heart they will find matinee engraved on it, with the accent very acute. You may consider that if the troubles of an author are manifold when producing a play in the ordinary fashion in the evening bill, they are doubled and trebled for a matinee. After all, plays depend for their success almost entirely on proper casting and rehearsal, and for a matinee you can never under any circum- stances get your play either one or the other. And then the class of actor and actress (I say it with all imaginable deference) who are available for morning performances are scarcely of the best; if they were, they would most probably be in regular evening employment-in which, castas a rule, their managers will not let* them act at a matinee; and when you do, after infinite trouble, get a tolerable caste together, you can rarely get them all at the same time for rehearsal. And, further, when you know that the best of them available are no great much, as the Irish say, you may guess what the remainder are like. In Love's Triumph I wanted an actor to play an officer, simply a young officer supposed to be in, a rather good regiment, and, failing ordinary channels, I tried to find what I wanted at uie agent's. Oh the officers and gentlemen I was shown, just the very thing; thin young gentlemen with inflamed countenances and flapping capes; middle-aged men with weary-lined faces, who could make up very stylish; thick-set men with the ineffaceable scowl of many years' theatrical provincial villainy on their never very prepossessing countenances leading men with hollow false voices juveniles with the ineradi- cable cockney accent; gentlemen without number with that curiously dirty skin and tired flat mouth that come from too many cigarettes and habitual late hours. I don't want to say anything unkind of the profession, for which I have much respect and affection, but I should very much like to know why the majority of actors and actresses go on the stage. 1 am inclined to believe that the majority, beyond a great liking for the calling and an exaggerated belief in themselves, founded on a misapprehension for their abilities, have scarcely any qualification for it whatever—neither education, nor study, nor physical gifts, nor even power of mimicry; certainly not, in very many cases, patience and determination to succeed. There was a gentleman playing for me who, down to the last, had no notion of what the play was all about, and didn't are to take the trouble to inquire. I don't complain, as author, at his not being interested in my work, but I want to know how otherwise than by following and understanding the story he was, to take his right place in the picture ? It is true they are most of them ambitious, which simply means they want to earn more money and play parts they are totally unsuited to. I fancy that ladies and gentlemen as a rule go on the stage, first, from motives of vanity, and, secondly, because it seems as easy and pleasant a way of earning money as any other. In all of which you can easily detect the wounded author who believes himself to have been wrongly interpreted.—From "Ny Matinie," in the CarnAiU Magazine. GOUNOn's OUTDOOR PERFORMANCE. Mr. Albert D. Vandam, in Tncpk Bar, relates "An Episode in the Life of Gounod" which well deserves this preservation úi print. M. Gounod and two student friends were returning home one Christmas eve when they encountered a poor musician in a narrow street near the Palais Royal. He seemed past performing, and the three young men, generously inspired, found they could only muster 16 sous between them. Then Gounod spoke: Sixteen aous is of no useL, friends; we want more, much more, than that to relieve our fellow artist. A pull, and a strong pull, all together. You, Adolphe, take the violin and accompany Gustave, while I go round with the hat." In the twinkling of an eye the preparations for carrying out the project are finished; coat collars are turned up, the hair is brought over the features to disguise them, and, to make detection still more difficult, hats are tilted forward to conoeal the eyes. Then the young fellow who has been the prime mover in the whole gives the signal to start. It is Christmas eve, Adelphe," he Sirs, and remember that at this performance the mighty is as likely to be among the audience as not. So do your very best." And Adolphe does his very best, assuredly. The improvised concert had the happiest results, although it would not be fair for us to say what these were. THE TYRANNY OF THE PRAM." Many a revolt had been raised against its iron rule; many a forlorn hope, in newspaper column, and even in police-court has made onslaught upon it; but happily in vain. Happily, because the despotism of the pram is entirely benevolent, and makes more for righteousness than almost any other, except that of jrbur children's grandmother on the mother's side. It forms a standing appeal to the highest sympathies of which man is capable, one whioh he who runs must at all events knock against, if he cannot read. It is the vehicle by which the sweet sphere of childhood and innocence is brought down into sordid everyday life; brought, too, in a manner which commands attention. You may pass over a child in arms, but you cannot ignore one in a pram whioh tilts against you and bends you nearly double, so that you are placed in a position in whioh you can kiss the little dear if so disposed. The pram is an inven- tion of the angels. Lest we should get too much absorbed in the low pursuit of money-getting or the mere pleasures of the senses, the two pursuits which take most of us out into the streets, the pram is there, with its precious contents, continually before us, round us, over our feet, against eur shins or the small of our backs, as an admonition of higher things. The most hardened business man, going hither and thither, seeking whom he may devour, feels a dovelike softness pervade him when he is brought to a full stop by a pram; as he grazes upon the cherub within it, he takes off his hat and wipes away a dewdrop of regenerating emotion. Even the stiff and starch got up" lounger, whom nothing else on earth can move, is moved by the pram. The pram, too, is a standing protest in every fairway against the feverish haste which is the besetting sin of the age. It is the wait-a-bit" thorn of the jungle, which bids you tarry a little, [that you may make an end the sooner. The end intended is not of yourself, though sometimes it makes you feel that way.—Globe. A LORD CHANCELLOR IN THE STOCKS. The year before he was raised to the Chancellor- ship, Eldon was staying at Lord Dacre's seat, Hoo- park, in Hertfordshire. On a summer afternoon he was walking in a neighbouring village with a country magistrate who was also on a visit to Lord Dacre. Speaking of the stocks and the pillory, he said that he had often sent men to the stocks, and he had often seen men in, and he wondered whether they were so very unpleasant as some people, averred. He thought not. When his friend said he had a key in bis pocket, and asked him if he would like to try what the effect of the stocks was, he said, after seeing the lanes were clear, that he thought he woald for a ihort time. Now his friend, unfortunately, was of an absent mind, and he had scarcely left the Chief Jus- tice of the Court of Common Pleas when his thoughts reverted to some other subject in which he was deeply interested, and he wandered up the Hoo-park. Great was the shock when he was asked where he had left his friend, and the fleetest servant was despatched with the key to release the Chief Justice, who returned to Hoo not, it is said, in the best of humours, for while he was in durance, the tale goes, some market carts slowly rambled back from the market, and much regret was expressed to see any one so well habited in such a place. In great anger, he called out to them he was the Chief Justice of Common Pleas, and some of them must at once get him free, even if they broke the stocks; but what was his horror when he heard them say that it was shocking to see so very well-dressed a man in such a state! It is said that the tale was kept quiet until there happened to be a trial for some illegal committal to the stocks, and the sufferer brought an action against the bench of justices. For the defence the counsel, who was a "sergeant," claimed only | £ d. damages, as the stocks were merely a slight and not always an unpleasant refuge, the prisoner being surrounded often by friends and sitting in warm sunshine, &c.; till the judge interrupted him with Brother, were you ever in the stocks ?" Certainly not," was the astonished reply. Ah, well! I thought as much," the J'dgeaaid; I have been."—" Rambles Round Bugby," by Alfrid Rimmer. CirrXE3B SURGEaT. like most thicks in Chiac the practice of surgery differs considerably from that in vogue in less enlightened western countries. Bone. Betting in the Celestial Empire is a complicated affair, and doubtless much more efficacious than European methods. In setting a fractured limb the surgeon does not attempt to bring the bones together, but merely wraps the limb in red clay, inserting some strips of bamboo into the clny. These strips are swathed in bandages, and in the outer bandage, the head of a live chicken is placed. Here comes in the superior science of the Celestial After the bandage has been secured, the fowl is bviheaded, and its blood is allowed to penetrate the fracture, for it nourishes the fractured limb, and is heap good medicine.T4e Hospital. A LOST LEADER. Mr. W. F. Liesching, writing in the new number of the Seiborne Society's Magazine on ants in Ceylon, saye he saw one day a string of ants stream- ing forth, evidently in search of "pastures new." He flicked away the leader, and waited to see the re- sult. An immediate halt was made by the foremost ants, aiui a scene of the utmost confusion ensued. The ants from behind kept arriving at the scene of the catastrophe, and there was soon a black crowd of ants huddling and jostling on3 another. Some detached themselves from the main group and took a turn round, trying to find traces of their leader. At last the tail end of the line arrived, and after brief consultation they all started off again, and a line soon began to unravel itself from the tangled mass moving back to the hole from which^he whole company had BO lately started on pleasui% bound or labour all intent." While Mr. Lieschlig was watching the return journey, a leech stung his leg. He took the mature eft, and put it down in the line of march. Asits wiil oarry off a worm, why not a leeoh ? It was, however, most amusing to see how carefully all avoided the leech. STANLEY AND LONBON "SOCIETY." In "Famous People I have Met" Mrs. George Augustus Sala writes that an indirect consequence of the Emin Pasha Relief Expedition has been a complete change towards Stanley of the attitude of what is known as polite society." That section of society felt infinitely shocked about the Barttelot business. It was not the thing for Stanley to have done. It was bad form for him to presume to say anything derogatory of a gentleman who had borne her Majesty's commission, and who came of an old country family. The result was that, when the explorer returned to London, Society—that :S, its "smart" section—turned its head aside, and failed to find the name of Henry Morton Stanley on its visiting list. Such curt and mean neglect has been the lot of many lions but in Stanley's case the greater part of the Society folks, who had well-nigh licked the dust off his feet in their efforts to persuade him to sit at their dinner-tables, and afterwards be trotted round their reception- rooms for the edification of their guests, not only ceased to lionise, but tried to sneer at, heir former idol. He has now the comfort and kfcppiness of being surrounded in his social life by a wide circle of true friends, and is well rid of the vast mass of heart- less lion-hunters, who loved him not for the dangers he had passed and the heroism of his nature, but merely for the brightness of his glory, which they imagined in some degree shone upon themselves when they had succeeded by fair means or by stratagem in netting their big game. UNCLAIMED PROPERTY. One of tha most widespread of popular Ifctions is the idea that the annual aaJee of unclaimed pro- perty bring *n immense amount of unearned incre- ment to the railway companies. It is easy to trace the idea to its origin; because every now and then great catalogues are issued of these sates, which seem to indicate vast sources of wealth. Take tkat of the two days' sale just held in connection with the Great Eastern Railway. Included in some 600 lots were the usual immense quantities of personal impedimenta: some 2000 umbrellas, with walking-sticks, books, opera-glasses, cigar cases, portmanteaux, and travelling rugs to correspond—numerically—pointing to the fact that not only are railway pessengers a curiously forget- ful class of people, but that they have such a lack of confidence in the honesty of their fellow men that they deem it a waste of time to inquire after their lost articles. Then there were vast accumulations of cloth- ing, with boxes, bags, and other articles, apparently indicating that the travelling public are as careless with regard to their baggage in the guard's van as they are with regard to that which they place under the seats and in the racks of the carriages, and calmly forget all about. Jewellery, too, figured in consider- able abundance, including one lot of 39 unset diamonds found on a carriage floor, while the un- claimed property" from the goods department in- cluded such substantial items as three asphalto boilers, a stack of firewood, a load of bricks, an iron tank, greenhouse stoves, gallon jars of whisky, and even a family Bible in 37 volumes. Anyone taking a casual glance through the catalogue would be. much amused with the incongruous medley of articles, and would not unnaturally come to the conclusion that they represented a very large sum of money which the company gets for nothing. This opinion would be heightened if he happened to look in at the sale, which took plaoa in the huge arches forming the company's depdt at Bishopsgate. Here, during two days, congregated crowds of buyers, who presented as curious a study in human nature as the catalogue did in portable property. Nothing came amiss to them; and nothing was too old or dilapidated to fetch a price that was simply astonishing. The Jews from the East-end almost fought for the clothing; and haggled and wrangled over umbrellas and walking-sticks, put up in lots of 25 and õO. With regard to the umbrellas, it was not surprising, looking at their quality, that the owners had not thought it worth while to trouble further about them. With the exception Itf one or two lots, they were thoroughly of the" rag-and-stick order, and could only have been bought for the frames. Still they fetched comparatively large sums, and had the number been 10 times as great, it would scarcely have sufficed to satisfy the demand. With regard to the clothing, also, though some of the articles were mere things of "shreds and patches," the same high prices ruled. But a little inquiry shows that there is another side to the question, and that the unclaimed property is not the prolific source of unearned increment popularly supposed. Apart from the fact that a large department has to be maintained to take charge of the articles found, and to endeavour to find Owners for them, the miscellaneous lots often represent goods for which the company have had to pay dearly. This, of course, does not apply to the umbrellas, walking-sticks, books, &c., found in the carriages; but it does apply to the boxes of clothing, and to a large extent to the articles from the goods department. For instance, the company's hotels are often patronised by those open-handed, bon vivant individuals who have an unpleasant habit of running up a big bill, and then suddenly removing, forgetful both of billandluggage. Thelatter isgenerally found to be proportionately very small to the former; and when sold, as is the custom, among the un- claimed property," leaves a considerable margin against the company.—Globe. WHEN FINISHED. Uusy |persons, forced to defend themselves from interminable talkers who have little to say, can appreciate a hint to which Henry IV. of France once resorted. A Parliamentary deputy called upon him and made a long speech. The King listened patiently for a time, then he decided that his visitor would do well to condense his remarks. He took him by tha hand and led him to where they could see the gallery of the Louvre. What do you think of that build- ing ? When it is finished it will be a good thing, will it not?" "Yes," replied the man of many words, not guessing what was coming next. Well, monsieur, that is just the way with your discourse," was the King's mild observation. TABLE MANNERS. Probably there are no people in the world so un- civilised as not to have among them a code of manners, more or less strictly defined. Mr. Bishop, while on his 1000-mile walk across South America, was im- pressed with this fact. He describes a rude meal which he shared with a company of cart-drivers— almost savage gauchos "—in whose company be was then travelling. He says: We encamped near a swamp, and supped upon sliced pumpkins, boiled with bits of meat and seasoned with salt. The meal was served in genuine pampa fashion; one iron spoon and two cow's horns, split in halves, were passed around the group, the members of which squatted upon their haunches and freely helped themselves from the kettle. Even in this most uncivilised form of satisfying hunger there is a peculiar etiquette, which the most lowly peon invariably observes. Each member of the company in turn dips hie spoon, or horn, into the centre of the stew, and draws it in a direct line towards him, never allowing it to (Vviate to the left or the right. By observing this rule, each person eats without interfering with his neighbour. Being ignorant of this custom I dipped my horn into the mess at random, and fished about for some of tho nice bits. My companions regarded this horrid breach of politeness with scowls of impatience. They declared with some warmth to the cook that gringos, did not know how to eat, and as they lived upon. dogs in their own distant country, they came to the great Argentine Republic to get food and grow fat on the gauchos." I apologised as well as I could, and endeavoured thereafter to eat according to gancho etiquette.

AN American pape:r contains an obituary natice of a lately deceased musician thus: From that primeval hour when the fiat of the eternal becama operative through Adamic transgression, each fleeting moment has seen entered on the roster of the spectral host new levies from the sons of earth.