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- THE NOBLER SEX.

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THE NOBLER SEX. LITERARY MEN'S OPINIONS ON SMOKING. The French Society against the Use of Tobacco has been collecting the opinions of the distinguished literary men on smoking, and some of them have just been published in a Paris paper. M. Taine, while confessing that he smokes cigar- ettes, which afford a distraction in idle moments, declares smoking to be a slavery, and often a danger. Zola ceased to smoke ten or twelve years ago, on the advice of his doctor, at a time when he was threatened with heart disease. He admits, how- ever, that he often regrets the loss of his cigar; Francois Coppee has smoked for nearly thirty years, and always cigarettes, which he throws away after the first puffs. He regards tobacco as a use- ful stimulant to work. He says his health is feeble, but that smoking has nothing to do with it. Dumas began to smoke late in life, and had to abandon the habit owing to severe attacks of vertigo, which did not finally cease till some years after he had given up smoking. This distinguished writer declares that tobacco, with alcohol, is the most formidable foe of the intellect. M. Barbier says that he nearly sacrificed his life .owing to persistent smoking. M. Augier declares that, after havineemoked forty years, he had been compelled to give up that "sweet intoxication" which was fast sending him to his grave. Octave Fenillet says he was at one time a heavy Smoker, but the constant occurrence of nervous complaints, traceable to tobacco, compelled him to throw away his pipe. Smoking he declares to be injurious, especially to nervous people. It pro- duced at first a slight excitation, which terminates in somnolence. It may be well to quote the opinion of Victor Hugo, given some time before his death, which ltDay be summoned up in a sentence—" Tobacco changes thinking to dreaming. CHINESE MASHERS. There is a province in China which is afflicted ddth too many mashers, and the Governor has had to issue a proclamation pointing out to them the error of their ways. The bright coloured jackets and waistcoats of the young men, embroidered at peck and sleeves with flowers and other ornaments, are shocking, he declares, to the view of sober, respectable citizens, who know that money should ftot be squandered by men on such things. Hold- ing that it is a governor's duty to watch over tbe tea aviour of the people committed to his charge, he warns them that young men dressed in a foolish, extravagant way will be arrested and punished, and that the responsibility of their fathers, elder brothers, and tutors will not be overlooked. DEATH OF THE 11 GOLD-DIGGER KING." Intelligence has just arrived from Sydney announcing the death, through heart disease, of Mr J. B. Watson, at the age of sixty four, an Australian Quartz Reef King, and one of the richest men in the colony. He was a native of Paisley, and born in 1825. When quite a youth he emigrated with his father's family to Sydney, where he took up a humble occupation of a butcher. Although Sydney during the Forties was a very flourishing town, yet the allurements were not of such a character as to keep him there, for he emigrated to California, the new El Dorado, in Aarch of a fortune. From California he returned in three years with little better success than he had obtained as a butcher. On his landing at Melbourne, Mr Watson proceeded to Sandhurst, where his figure was known on the White Hills so far as 1864. By dint of great exertion he saved a sum suffioient to enable him to purchase a puddling machine, which was a material help to him at the diggings, and with this instrument he managed to save several thousand pounds. He then migrated to the celebrated gold mine of Bendigo, which has since become made known throughout the world for its wonderful productiveness of gold, and which he now leaves to the family with the expected result from its production of some J630,000,000 or ",Ooo,ooo. WOMEN'S IDEAS ON MOUSTACHES. It is interesting to note the peculiar ideas that women have concerning the hirsute decoration of the faces of the lords of creation, in Which they are most palticularly interested. It is a rare thing to find a woman who admires a masculine face without a beard or moustache. There are very few faces perfect enough in contour and outline (writes one lady) to dispense with the aid of a beard or moustache, which conceals their defects and adds to their symmetry. If the face is broadly developed it can be lengthened by an imperial which may grow long enough to cover up a heavy or fleshy chin. If it be narrow the length may be reduced by spreading out the whiskers with a comb and cutting them square. Then the mouth is the one tell-tale feature of the face. You can keep secrets out of your eyes, but your mouth tells everything. It is there that all weakness be- trays itself, and women do not admire weakness in a man, consequently they like that which conceals it most effectually. Women like men just because they are not women, and they admire most in them that which is most strongly indicative of manliness, strength, and power. A smooth face and long curling hair seem effeminate and weak and womanish. 'Another lady answered, in reply to the query as to whether she admired a man all shaven and shorn more than one bearded like a grenadier-" It all depends upon a man. If the man I love has a moustache, I think all moustaches are divine but if he happens to be smooth-faced, I cannot under- stand why all men do not shave. I think that is the way with most women, and women usually resent any change in the way a man wears his beard as they would object to his changing the colour of his eyes with every moon. A woman's love is tenacious and clings to that which first awakens it. A CONSIDERATE LOVER. Last week, in Dublin, an elderly man, named Christopher Reilly, being disappointed in love, tied to one of his legs a little dog he had received as a present from hiB sweetheart, and jumped into the IHffey at North Wall. He was rescued, but the dog was drowned. In one of his pockets was found •letter from bis sweetheart, and another addressed to her, stating his intention to commit suicide, and to do away with the dog in order that she might not fret at the sight of it after his death. HOW JONAS HARRIS PROPOSED. It was seven long years since Jonas Harris had begun to keep company with Hannah Bell, and yet in all that time he had not mustered courage to propose a certain important question. His home was lonely and waiting; hers was lonely enough to be vacated; and still Jonas could not bring himself to speak the decisive words. Many a time he had walked up to her door with the courage of a lion, only to find himself a very mouse when she appeared. He had never failed in dropping in to cheer her loneliness on Christmas evening, and this year he presented himself as usual. The hearth was swept, the fire burned brightly, and Miss Hannah was adorned with smiles and a red bow. Conversation went serenely on for an hour or so, and then when they sat paring red-cheeked apples with great contentment, Jonas began to call upon his recollections. "It's a good many years, ain't it Hannah, since you and I sat here together ? Yes, a good many." I wonder if I shall be sittin' here this time another year ? "Maybe I shan't be at home. Perhaps I shall go out to spend the evening myself," said Miss Hannah, briskly. This was a blow indeed, and Jonas felt it. Where ? he gasped. "Oh, I don't know," she returned, beginning to quarter her apple. I might be out to tea—over to your house, for instance." But there wouldn't be anybody over there to get supper for you." Maybe I could get it myself." So you could! so you could cried Jonas, his eyes beginning to sparkle. But there wouldn't be anybody to cook the pies and cakes beforehand." Maybe I could cook 'em." At that moment Jonas' plate fell between his knees to the hearth and broke in two, but neither of them noticed it. "Hannah," cried he with the pent-up emphasis of seven long years, could you bring yourself to think of gettin' married ? A slow smile curved her lips; surely she had been given abundant time for consideration. "Maybe I could," she returned demurely; and Jonas has admired himself to this day for leading no to the subject so cleverly. ON OLD ROGER NORTON. Here lies entomb'd old Roger Norton, Whose sudden death was sadly brought on. Trying one day his corn to mow off, The razor slipped and cut his toe off; The toe, or rather what it grew to, An inflammation quickly flew to; The parts then took to mortifying, And poor old Roger took to dying:

LADIES.

MISCELLANEOUS.

. LLANELLY FLOWER SHOW.

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