The Pontypridd Chronicle and Workman's News

A certain lady one day bad been much annoyed by the ringing of her door-bell by the mischievous boys in the vicinity, and determined to be made no more a fool of by going to the door. In the course of the fore- noon, however, her minister ealled to see her, dressed in his nicest manner. He ascended the steps, and gently drew the bell handle, when the lady shouted from the entry "I see yon, my boy if I catch you I'll wring your neck! The affrighted gentleman rushed down the steps through a crowd of young scamps, and was not seen at the lady s house again. If bread could be procured as easily as water, men would be more likely to become brutes for the want of something to do than philosophers from the possession of leisure. When a Milwaukee man advertises for a laciy to elope with him it is embarrassing for both him and the woman who answers the advertisement to find that they are already man and wife. Little Franky's mother was an invalid; and so his auntie looked after his religious instruction, and let no occasion pass to enforce some precept. One day Franky suddenly said, Oh dear, I wish I had wings!' This angelic aspiration was regarded with great joy by the sisters and they eagerly asked why ha wished for wings. "Oh," said Franky, "I'd fly up Into the air, and take aunt Susan with me; and when { gooldii't so any higher, I'd let her drop 1" I woWW% ze my bixbw. I'd let her drop 1"

u (All Righti Reserved.) WRITTEN IN FIRE OR, THE WITNESS IN THE DARK. BY FLORENCE MABHYAT, AT'THOR OF "Love'. Conflict.' Fighting tti-j Air," Her Fuiier a Sl\me," .I"" X-c. CHAPTER, XV. ANDY IS INTRODUCED TO HE "-r'A., They did not stay at Norwich longer [had «• no"es- lary to exchange the coach for the tra.in. H d h" Keen alone Fabian woild probably have called upn Mr. Sutton to explain the reuon he had curtailed his vieit to Mordham.tnd to arrange about changing his uncle's eheque, but io deference to An-lv's winh that no clue to his destination should reach Mr. Hayes sooner han was absolutely iracessary, they went straight thrmgh to London. It was not till they were actually in the train that the thought of Husie Barnes crossed Fabian's mi" J. Aady," he said to his cousin, won't poor Rosie be in great trouble about you leaving home so sud denly ?" I am afraid she will. In fact, I know she is, FIIo bian, for I saw her last night, before I joined jouon the Btakeney road. What did she say to it ?'' Oh, ?he cried a good deal but all girls do that, you know. Crying comes as-natural to them as smok- ing does to us. And she wanted me tJ take her with me straight off, then and there. As if I could \Vliat can she have been thinking of to propose such a thinggaid Fabian. "She knows you have nothing to support a wife on. You couldn't marry her yet "I don't know that she was thnikirtg r.bout marriage, and I'm sure I wasn't," rejoined Andy with a coarse laugh. "Andy! you shouldn't speak so carelessly of the girl yotire engaged to. It wrongs both her and your- self. I suppose poor Rosie was so cut up at your going away that she hardly knew what she was saying." Don t kndw, I'm sure. Any way that's what she did »ay But I stuffed her up with a lot of lies about sendicg for her, or going back to fetch her as soon us I had made soaie money, Jni I daresay she's recon- eiled herself to the idea oy this tima." But you uriH fetch her as soon as you are able. You mean to stick to Rosie, Andy, don't you?" Of course Oaly the question is, when skill I be able? Money's not nudtf in a minute nowaday*, and it takes a precious deal to keep a wife. It win a. different matter when I thought I waa going to have the farm." Well, the best thing we can do, I tfcink, is to travel as fastas we c n to Br;13ca, without stopping anywhere and consmit t'ere Raoul. He knows every body there, English as well a? French, and will be able t,) tt-11 us at onee whether there is any opening for you abroad. I feel very sanguine about it, Aady, and sure everything will come right in the end, and my heart is so light at the prospect of seeing the old place again that I could sit-g for joy." Andrew caught the infection of his cousin's high spirits, and nothing could exceed +he merriment of the two young men upon this their first journey into the world, and the further they left Moriham behind them the merrier they became. One night passed in town, in a dingy commercial i-in near the docks, did not tend to tieighten their regret at not having more leisure to spend in the modern Babylon, and the next morning found them steaming down the river m aie of those little boats that ply between London and Ant- werp, enchanted with the novelty of the xresh air and rapid travelling, nnd disposed to make" the^very best of everything that befell them. Fsbian dissuaded his cousin from 3raying in Antwerp, as they had tirnt proposed to do when talking over this journey together. "If we hare the leisure and the inclination, we cau so easily return to it," he said, "but at present L fed aa if I could not enjoy anything until we have -»• rj and canveised with Pere iiaoul. How mrpl ¡.E:,i lie will be to see as He kno ws that I intend retun;i g to Brusca, of course, but he does not expect me for some weeks, yet. Let me consider. If we just allow ourselves a peep at the cathedral here, and a luncheon at the estetminri, we shall rested Brusca about the time of vespers. Pere Rioul will be at St. Joseph, and we will sib down in his little room how well I remember it-and watch the surprise in his face when he opens the door and see;; us there. Andy, how can I ever have stayed away from them all so long ?" Fabian's delight, too. at fiuding that he had lost neither the faculty of speaking nor making himself understood in French was almost childish in its ex- citement. He had been 10 entirely cut off from all communication with foreigners whilst in England that he had not had an opportunity of testing his memory in this particular, though the letters he had exchanged with Pere Raoul since the prohibition had, by reason of Fabian's age, been taken off their corres- pondence, had convinced him he had not lost all re- collection of the first language he learned. But now, when he found that he was at no 10..8 to express him- self, and could, indeel, after an hour or two spent in the oountr;, talk as fluently as ever, his pleasure was unbounded. Indeed, when a girl whom they met in the cathedral exclaimed with veritable surprise after some remark made by Fabian, Mais, Aion- tieur riest pas Anglais I the lad's eyes filled with tears of pleasure. I feel the truth of it so," he said, when repeating the circumstance to his cousin. "I am not an Eng- lishman, Andy. I never was—1 never should have been. I was like a man who has been brought up in prison from a child, and can only faintly remember the green fields and the blue skies of his infancy, until he is set free to see them again, and all the past rushes back upon his memorj like a flood that has burst its bounds. And, oh with these old familiar sights and sounds, comes back the thought painfully vivid—of my falher-mv handsome, ciever, noble, warm-hearted father, whom I shall never see in this world again-if he could oaly welcomj me back to Brmoa—but I know it can never, never be I Andy, old fellow! don't think the less of me for these tears, I cannot help them You have ssen me bear hard words, and blows too, without flinching but there is something in coming back to these scenes of mychildhood that knocks me over worse than any oraelty could do." "I don't think the Iasa of you, Fabian rather more, perhaps, if there's any difference. And ( don't wonder at your liking to come back to this place. How you ever stood ''fordham.&fterit beats mef Aad aren't the girls nice. too ? Suoh bright black eyes and neai little figures. I wonder what some of our Norfolk lasses would give for such a trim shape as that Come, come. Andy," exclaimed Fabian, ..mitin; through his tears, I can't have your eyes roving after this fashion. What would Rosie say if she could hear you? It's lucky you can't talk Frenoh, or I should never get you past these little Flemish coquettes in time for the train." I mean to talk it as soon as I can, olci boy, or at all events, well enough to make myself nnderstood by the ladies, I can tell you." Well then, the very best instructor 3 on could find for the purpose is my dear Pera Raoul. He sp^aka pure Parisian none of yonr Flemish patois, and his mind and manners are as refined as his language. Coma Andy, don't stand there with your mouth open. If we are to catoh the afternoon train to Brusca we have no time to lose." Ardy wis wrxpt in the contemplation of a pretty Antwerp milkmaid—with her large gold earrir-g* and fine Mechlin lace cap, her bright brass milk-can", wreathed with green bourns and flowers, standing in a little oart, drawn by a, big dog in heri- it wai by force alone thn.t Fabivi, havirg .linked their «rma together, dragged ni3 cousin asway to the raLway station. Everything occurred just as they had ai tici pated. They reached the priest's rooms in Bruscn whilst ha was away at evening service, and his old housekeeper, who had lived with him f< r forty year; and knew Fabian as a litt'e boy, received them wit", delight, and thoroughly ertort- into their little plvi for surprising her master, 61le ushered the lads ml'i Pere Raoul's sitting-room to await his return, ami oio-.el the door upon them. The priest's rooms were situated in the Graacii JPliwe or uicipal square of Brqya, in tha centre **> -Iiieb. sfo,-)d the church of H:. -t -^eph | W.e to creep over tht :i. anil tiw ads seat el themselves in the c.»l Ld".ly-fur.ished little parlour, all sorts of sweet scents and sounds came through the open window. T'-i-- 'inkling bells on the harness of the dog carts ;i:i?l?fi with the half-distinguishable notes of the ;r ui in St. Joseph, and ',hc chorus of a dr.vk-.ng song, i *11 out brsome German students in the next «qnare; whilst the girls carrying home the crushed refuse of the flower market, and the itinerant vendors of fruit, ¡:ed 'he soft summer air with a faint rich per.'nrn-\ t3 I <'hy," exclaimed Andy, stretching himself in a chair F iSiar. was leaning from the window, and did i ol im.ntdiately answer. This was not the square in whict he h ..I lived with his father, but, it was very nea' it V"[ r, very near. What a r iv little room," continued Andy, loolc- i: round him, without any carpet or cru^aim, and the walls. 1 suppose this isn't the priest's best room, is it, Fabian ?" "It's his worst and his beat," replied his ccusin. the only one he has, Andy, besides hit bed-room. Pere Raoul was a very rich man, I have heard, befor< he went into the Church, but ha gives everything away to the poor and keeps nothing far himself. Hush, Andy, here he comes He has just turned out of the sacristy door How the children gather round him They will hardly let him put one foot before the other And now the mothers have got hold of him. Will they ever let him reach his own door ? Everyone has a word to say to him, just as they used to have of old! Ah! at last he is free, and coming this way. How white hia hair is to what it used to be, and how much slower he seems to walk. Now he is on the very door-step. This way, Andy. Let us seat ourselves on thise chaiis, and watch hia look of aston- ishmerit when first he catches sight of us." The little room in which they sat was nearly da,rk now. a^ they ensconced themselves in the shadow be- hindthedoor. They beard the priest's voice, as he ascended the stairs, giving directions to his servant in French to bring the lamp. And a little piece of meat with my supper if you have it in the house, my good Marguerite," he con- tinued, "for I have fasted since breakfast this morn ing. and I am inclined to be hungry." "As if I didn't know that, mon pere," replied the housekeeper. Why, you remained three hou by the bedside of that dying man, whilst the nice dinner I had cooked for you was burned to a cinder, and obliged to be thrown away. And he didn't die after all, too That waa Lhe shame of it 1" No, thanksto the good God, who saw he was not fit to be taken yet, he will be spared a little longer. It is better that your nice dinner should be burned up by the fire-, my good Marguerite, than poor Julee Griquot in the flames cf bell, is it not ?" Ah, well mon pere I would rather not decide but all I know is that you might be starved to death before any of your parishioners would care. Ac unreasonable lot! However, I have a tender chicken and a salad ready for your supper, and I hope, at least, vou'll try and eat them." A chicken exclaimed the priest, good-humour, edly. What extravagance I shall have to get another housekeeper. Marguerite, if you waste my substance after that fashion." And yet you sent a couple of them out of the house yesterday, retorted the servant. Aye to the sick-to the poor sick, who have none but God and their priest to look after them." Isn't he good ? whispered Fabian, enthuaiasti- cally, to Andy. He is just the same as he ever was." Well, I've got something more than chicken and salii for your supper to-night, mon perecontinued Marguerite, and if you'll go up to the parlour, you'll see what it is." "Then bring ma thplamp," rejoined Pkre Raocl, a' he entered the room, for at present 1 can see nothing —not even my way." The housekeeper entered with the light, and the priest glanced at the table. -It was bare. Yon are jesting with me, my good Marguerite," he said. mildly. Am I? Look behind the door, then." she replied; throwing the light she carried upon the two young tnon, one or whom, no longer able to contiin his im- patience, had started fnm hia chair. Pferc Raoul fared at him for a moment in daz:)d perplexity—then, with sudden inteliigjnce, exclaimed, f: Is it possible ? Can it be ? Yes, "e". 'lI/}17'p'e,i>i Fabian, darting forward and kissing the priest's hand. "It is I—Fabian Dela- Bourt— to whom yoa were so good in the old days, come ba-k to ask for your biassing and your counsel The scene that. followed is difficult to describe. To Andrew IhycJ, un used b the ebullitions of excitement 90 common amongst foreigners, it appeared toreed and unnatural—to Fabian, on whose sunny nature Eng. (illh reserve had fallen but. coldly, it was simply a wel- come home. The priest embraced and wept over the young man by tnrn3—held him at arms' length,hardly believing tie eould be the same curly-headed little boy he had taken tc Bigland ten years before, and then, convinced by the !o.)!r in a;9 e.Y"8, a.nd the f<\miliarity ,.¡f his tong:le, liraiued him to his heart again with the fervour of a woman. And when their first, transports at reunion were over, and the first hurried questions put and answered, Fabian introduced Andrew to his old friend's notice, and Pere R&oul's thoughts turned at ance to hospitality. How good of you to come straight to mll," be said, "and to bringyour cousin with you. It. was like you Fabian Like my dear, fr-jrnk, open-hearted boy of aid Marguerite, I must have supper laid a, once for my young English princes here-Run round to the restau- rant and bring whatever you can lay your hands on." Mon pere, Aid I nIt tell you that I had a bsauti- ful ohicken already roasting at the fire?" screamed Marsnerite from the lower region, F.)o!ish old woman A chicken is not enough for three hungry men! Go at once and ask Mach,me Schmidt to let me have a roti—a pate—a little dessert, anything wh;h she may have on hand. And in the cellar cupboard, Marguerite,you will find two or thrr.e bottles of C'iiquot, keDt from the last time the Abbe lunched with me. Bring them up, Marguerite. It is right we "aould make merry, now our dear Monsieur Fabian has returned to us again." "Oh, nvmoir', how can I thank you sufficiently f'-r all your interest in ma, and your affection for mf. pre- serve,l, too, after so many years of separation ? What. ;laitn have I, who have given you nothing buttroifi>>3 since the day my poor father left us upon you, thcot you should celebrate our reunion as though I were your own chiid ?" That is just how I feel it, Fabian. Had it not been that circumstances were again?t> Tie, I should have adopted you as my son, and brought, you up in these little room3 to whuch you have returned as a. bird to its ne-t." "I wish I might. never leave them again, mon vers. But my cousin, or rather, let me say, brother, for that is what Andy is to me, and I hawe come to you.nndar rather painful circumstances, to ask your id vice, by which we intend to abide entirely." "It is r.o sorrow, my children, is it?" incjuirei the priest anxiously. Not exactly sorrow, rtton pere, but perplarjty ind "Then no advice until after supper," said Pe-d j Raoul gaily we will do justice to old Marguerite's foraging and the remainder of the Abbe's Cliquot fit s*, *nd then we will discuss the matter that perplexes my friends, a-.d try and find a way out of the difficulty. Allows, ?;M.< br yWH must be both tired and hungry ifter your long journey. Lot u.s eat and drink, and when you aie satisfied, if you still desire to do 30, y,"l ihall confide your difficulties to me, whilst Marguerite foes to secure your beds for the night. But men can qeither talk nor listen well upon empty stomachs. Fabian and Andy, not unwilling to take the good priest's advice, drew their chairs up to the table, an 1 Sid fuil justice to the viand.! placed before them, whilst. Pere Kioul, eating bit sparingly himscif, in- listed on waiting on his guests. The meal concluded, he ordered the lads to Light thoir pipes, and taking a wat opposite Fa.biAn, gtzetl at him with undisguised affection. Am I what you expect-iU ti dud me, >uoit' pen ? inquired the y -ungman, smil-rg. "You are the image of yonr faiher, Fabian— 1 t'-f s'oa'voi.Mving rnage of -nygood friendDeiaoour How surprised and plea'sed M. Pevrier will he to SVJ you. He often speaks of yon andoQf your prospects ri 11 f rle has set his heart upon your becoming an artist." Faoian sighed. And so had I set my heart upon it, but I do nc! know iaow if it will ever be!" How in that ? I i-hope you Ma not fiokle .-in jour Fancier, Fabian. A doctor's did not appear to sail pn. Have you also lost your triste for painting ? Ni), ino?z pere, nor ever zhaii. B it circumstances ha/e arisen lately that make it incnmbent oa m; to •ay, not what shnll I, but what can I, do ?" He then proceeded to tell the priest what had occurred at Monlham Farm. and the reason his cousin's for. tunes bad hee:1 cast in with his ow i. In deference to Andy's feeling- Faoian made as light a" possible of Ids uncle's treatment of them botll, but Pere Raoul who was so well used to reading human nature, traced foe sweet, unseifijh spirit that induced this reticence 'ir-.no;li«,ut, and thought as much of it as be did of Fa- him'- generosity in offering to div d- his fortune with !i-c isinas if it were the most natural thing in th' vr il l that they should share and nhare alike. "And so you see, mon pere," concluded Fabian, 1 that Andy and 1 must look out for work that wil bring in a. certain return, however small, and give us sninf prospect of independence for the future. 7might have managed to live upon the interest of the money, and not take heed whether my paintings sold or not; but now that there are two of us, it is different. And Andy has even a greater incentive than I have to try and become independent as soon as he can. for he ii to be married to a young lady in Norfolk, and he must work for her sake if not for his own. Tell us, then, man pere, is there any opening for the labout of two young fellows like ourselves in Brusca ?" In Brusca," replied the priest meditatively. Well, it is difficult to say, Fabian. For yourself,you epeak the language fluently (the want of which would stand greatly in your cousin's way). But, even then. what could you do ? Besides civil engineering-whieb is a life's study in itself—we are not given to emoloy ing foreigners in any public capacity. Our farming —whioh appears to be the only thing Monsieur Hayes has been accustomed to-we keep in our own hands. It is conducted on a prineiple entirely different from your's. But one plan has struck me for hit employment which, if agreeable to him, I maybe abl< to forward. What would your eousin say to taking a situation in Java?" "In Java I" exclaimed the young men simultane- ously, both their interests roused at once by an idei as novel as it was exciting. (To be continued.)

VARIETIES—GRAVE AND GAY. Back-yards.—The trains of ladles' dreaaes. An Indiana carpenter is so temperate that he will not me a, spirit level. A San Francisco editor says that when he thinks of Ireland's woes his heart goes "Pity Pat." I do not say," remarked Mr Brown, "that Jones is a thief, but I do say that if his farm joined mine I would not try to keep sheep." Hurrah henceforth quarter-day will have n terrors. A respectable stationer advertises "fifty receipts for rent for five shillings." That's upwar. cf twelve years of security from involuntary coir, ri- hutions to one's landlords. Hooray Who'll lend us five shillings? Mamma "Tom my dear, suppose by any chance yon were to have another little brother, would not you be very glad?" Tommy (after reflection) "Well, ma, since you ask me, I have one littie brother already. If you wouldn't mind much, I'd reyther hev' a wooden 'orse." Captain: What's the charge, sergeant Ser- geant "This time it's drunkenness, sir. But this man is the most troublesome fellow in the regiment, air. He goes out when he likes, and comes in when he Jikef1, and gets drunk when he likes in fact, he misfit be a horficer Principle nowadays has degenerated so much into expediency that it has given rise to the following comparison Nowadays principle is a kind of bal- last, like the ballast in a balloon, which must be thrown overb atxl if the traveller wishes to rise. It keeps you steady, but it keeps you down." VENOMOUS. With looks of horror someone said, The critic Zoilw is dead !— Poisoned by whom, how, where, and when ? By accident: he sucked his pen. The principal of an academy, in his advertisement, tne:iti<-ned his female assistant and the reputation for teach in.? which she bears; but the printer- careless fellow—left out the "which." so the advertise- ment went forth, commending the iady's reputa- tion for teaching she bears." Some of the members of a debating n'n.) hayf been Gixjuw.-ing the tn7c meaning of social and political eoon<>my,and it is said they have come to the following conclusions: "Social economy is the art of living srylis'dy off other people. Political ec moiny is tho arc ot a'.w*ys keeping on the light the party in power." # A mun was staggering about a race-c< ur"p. and occasionally catching hold of the posts to prevent. him- self from falling, when a friend, observing his in" ebriation, asked what was the matter? "Why— hie-why, the fact is—hie—a lot of my friends have been betting liquor on the race to-day, and they have got me to hold the stakes." A deaf farmer having purchased a new bull at the same time a new parson had come to the parish, the squire meets him and asks, How did you like the new pastor on Sunday?" The farmer, thinking only of his bull, repliad, He do roar shameful, and the neighbours do say he's a vicious brute, but I think it's because he ain't got used to the place, and your ladies ain't got no cause for alarm." The Count de V., in the mildest tone, to his ser- vant Joseph, you have been drinking my rum again, and you have put water in it to make up the deficiency." "I admit it, sir; but I swear I will drink no more of it." The Count de V., slightly elevating his shoulders You always exaggerate i didn't ask you not to drink it; I only ask you not to put water in what's left. For really it isn t fair that you should drink rum pure, and that I should drink rum and water." A young fellow took his little sister to see a family on which he is a regular caller. The little girl made herself quite at home, and exhibited great fondness for one of the young ladies, hugging her heartily. "How very affectionate she is," said the lady of the house. "Yes, just like her brother," responded the young lady unthinkingly. Paterfamilias looked up sternly over his spectacles, the young gentleman blushed, and there was consternation in the family circle. An old sailor, who was somewhat deaf, having been asked how his wife was, thought that the inquiry relatedto his boat, and replied as follows: 'Ah, vour honour, she was a lively young thing when 1 met with her first, not far from this spot, resting on the beach, but since she haa got old ehe has become very 'cranky,' and I think from lying under the sun the other day has become cracked, so there can be no pleasure in drifting down the stream with her, and I suppose I ha,d better 'scuttle' her." (Police in- formed of intended murder.) Love Charms.-In Lower Saxony the young girls gather sprigs of St. John's wort on the eve of St. John, and secretly suspend them on the walls of their chambers with certain mysterious ceremonies. The state of the plant on the following morning indicates their fnture fate. If fresh and undrooping, it fore- tell-i a prosperous marriage if fading and dying, the reverse. The plant is influenced by the condition in which it is placed, and those who have damp walls are the more likely to have prosperous marriages than those whose walls are as dry as they should be. At a Cincinnati wedding the organist occupied the time previous to the advent of the bride and groom by playing various voluntaries, and just before they arrived at the church door he struck into the very familiar refrain, "Trust her not, she's fooling thee," with elaborate extemporaneous variations. While he was hard at it the bridal party entered the church, but the professor, totally oblivious of the fact, kept on until the bridal pa ty was well on its way to the altar, when he jumpea into the Wedding March with an emphatic suddenness that nearly took the wind out of the man at the bellows. The late Frederick Tomlines, a historian and journalist of repute, concluded in the autumn of l is life that he would set up as a retail bookseller. He proposed to deal chiefly in mediteval literature, in which he was profoundly versed. This venture Wft- scarcely successful. A customer entered his shop out- day and asked for a particular book, as marked in the catalogue. I had really no idua that it writ there," meditatively remarked^ Air. Tomlines, as ht ascended a ladder to a very high shelf, and pulled out a squabby little tome. Then he remained abou- five-and-twenty minut s on the laddei absorbed in tV perusal of the volume when the customer, growing impatient, began to ra on the counter with hisstic;: Thereupon Mr. TomlinJScame down tne ladder, "xr you think," remarked he, with calm severity to tb i intending -purc-h^er, "that any considerations of vile dross will induce me to part with this rare 11,1' precious little volume,you are very much Jx jstaUen. I1. is like your impudence. Be off with you Some people are never satisfied, however fortunnt- they may be. A nursemaid in the service of an Eng- lish family in Russia left her place to get. rnatri il but had not been long wedded ere she conjplaine- to the Natchalai^h of tbe district in which she wa- domiciled thnt her husband did not love hsr as i < should do and on the official inquire? how n'n- knew if, replied, "Because he never whips me.' Doubtles-' the disappointed one meant what 811 said, but sh« might have changed t r note had h-1 desire been gratified like the yo ng wife suddenly I bereaved of a rich old husband who refused t I believe her dear partner could t so cruel as f. leave her, crying out, "He's alive. doctor; I'm sur I he's alive; tolfme, don't you think so?" Tin piteous appeal the physician met by suggesting tn I application of a galvanic shock, and offering to ap:, the apparatus. "Oh, no, no exclaimed the g r it j j ttrickeu widow; hard as it is to bear my fat,, vill have no experiments against the law of nature «t hiig rmt io jfeace! r.f-Tser": "John, what are your boots made of ? John: "Of leather." Teacher: "Where does the le!)thf-r come from?" John: "Frcm the hide of t: i; o> Teacher What ainmal the, supplies you with boots, and gives you meat to eat ?" John M y father." A governor of Williamsburg, in the time of Dritish rule in America, returned the salute of a ntci'o who was passing. "Sir," said a gentleman p: cut, do you condescend to salute a slave?" Why, ye- replied the governor, I cannot suffer a man of his condition to be better mannered than Di "YI>8K, strauger," «aid a Missouri steam-boat cap- ta,iii, George Washington was purty great an' high an' the father nv of his country, an' fust in peace an' war, an' other things but he'd been nowhar in racin' any hoat he ever owned with this yere scudder, the Hirer Queen, on whose quiverin' deck you now stand." Srcene in an American newspaper office.-Manager Editor "We want a few lines on the Governor's message. What shall be said about it?" Editor: Have you read it?" M. E. "No; have you?" E. -So John, have you read the message ?" John: "No." E, Jim, have you read it?" Jim: "No." E. Oh, well, call it an able document, which points out needed reforms, and shews the in- creasing prosperity of the State." Mrs. Crawford says she wrote one line In the song, "Kathleen Mavourneen" for the express pur- po<e of confounding the Cockney warblers, who sing it thus: "The 'orn of the 'unter is 'eard on the 'ill. Moore has laid the same trap in the Woodpecker A 'eart that is 'umble might 'ope for it 'ere. And the Elephant confounds them the other way A helephant hastily heats at his hease, Hunder humbrageous humbrella trees. "Impiety" of Seience.—Mr. Crosse, of Taunton, was once shewing his electrical machinery, and dis- playing two Leydon jars, remarking that he could feed them with electric fluid at any time when the state of the atmosphere was favourable whereupon a grave old gentleman said very solemnly, "Mr. Crosse, don't you think it is rather impious to bottle the lightning? Let me answer ycur question by ask- ing another," replied Mr. Crosse, laughingly "Don't you think, sir, it might be considered rather impious to bottle the rainwater? Farmers must be green, or else scarecrows must be scarce about Oldtown, Massachusetts. An Irish farmer near that place put up a scarecrow in his field, and the farmer of the farm adjoining thought it was the Irishman himself, so he called out, "Dennis, you're doing nothing there bring over a drink of water." The scarecrow made no reply. The re- quest was repeated with the same result, and at last the haymaker got mad and shouted, Darn yez, can't you answer, whether you'll bring the water or not ? He never will hear the last of that from his neighbours. At a. private party an "extra" maid of Erin was engaged by the hostess to assist the "regular" in passing round the cake and ice oream. The extra hand, to whom this sort of thing was quite new, got rather excited, and bustled to and fro with consider- ably more energy than grace. When about retiring, after going the round of the room, she suddenly stopped, and pointing to a portion of the company in another room, innocently inquired of the regular housemaid, loud enough for the whol company to hear, Hev ye fed them over there ? She disap- peated downstairs amid laughter so loud that it must have troubled her sleep for a fortnight. The following curious advertisement lately appeared in the Appenzeller Zeitv.ruj: "The undersigned, knowing his failing and foreseeing his weakness, of his own free will entreats all innkeepers and cafekpepers to give him nothing whatever without payment of ready money, and even then to let him have no more to drink than is good for him. If, on the other hand, the proprietor of any such establishment sees that I am drunk, or even slightly affected by drink, I earnestly beseech him to give me nothing whatever, and I take the liberty also ef asking in this sense the support of the honourable public. Urnpaer-h, October 23. (Signed) JOH. RIGNER AN DER KRAEG." Mr. Spurgeon is a funny man. On one occasion he was much annoyed by three young men persisting in wearing their hats. He appeared for the time not to notice them, but proceeded to tell his audience of a visit he had paid to a Jewish synagogue. When I entered," he said, "I took off my hat, but was informed that the great remark of respect was to keep it on. I did so, though I can assure you I felt very strange wearing my hat in a place of worship. Arid now, as I paid this mark of respect to the synagogue, may I ask those three Jews in the gallery to conform equally to our rules, and kindly uncover their heads?" The young men "collapsed." A man whose cranium resembled a billiard-ball I. rea the following advertisement in a well known d.-iily paper "Dr. Bogus's wonderful lotion. War- ranted to make hair grow thick and curly on the baldest heads." In order to test the veracity of thia announcement, he went to the doctor's, and purchased a bottle of i h-; liquid required. Is it a fact, doctor, i that by applying your lotion to my head I shall sea my hair grow? No doubt," answered the medical i man. So, seaf in,f, himself in front of a looking-gla* the hairles-s man began to smother his head with the stuff, and sai l, full of confidence, "I will wait and see the result." What," screamed the doctor, wait in my shop ? Why my lease is up in a few months

BITS FROM BOOKS. A YOVXG ENTHUSIAST. Of course, Haydon's first business in London wai to see the Academy exhibition, then open at Somerset House. I don't fear you," was his excla mation as he turned away from the canvases of the masters of the day. Full of confidence in him self, he set to work,and for three months saw nothing but his books, his casts and his drawings. My enthusiasm," he says, "was immense, my devotion foratudythatof a martyr. I rose when I woke at 3, 4, or 5, drew at anatomy until 8, in chalk from my casts from 9 to 1, and from half- past 1 until 5, then walked, dinedand to aha- tomy again, from 7 to 10 and 11. I was once sc long without speaking to a human creature that mj gums became painfully sore from the clenched tightness of my teeth. I was resolved to be a great painter, to honour my country, and to rescue the art from that stigma of incapacity which was im- pressed upon it." The portrait of the visionary youth of 18 is not complete without two other cha racteristics—his determination "to keep the Greeks and the great Italians in view" as his artistic masters, and also the pathetic piety which often guided though it could not govern a nature swayed by ambition and self-confidence. The Sunday after my arrival I went to chureh and in humble' ness begged for the protection of the Great Spirit. I prayed for health of body mmd, and on rising from my knees felt a breathmg assur- ance of spiritual aid which nothing can detlcribe. illagazine ofart. THE NATUB. OF ETHER. In the first place, we understand ether to^be of an exceedingly rare nature, as planets pass through without perceptible resistance, if we except the one instance of the shortening of the path of a comet. Its rarity, also, is proved by the fact that it passes freely through the pores of transparent bodies, such as glass, &c. Again, though its rarity is so great— so much so that by no known means can we detect it by weighing, nor can we exclude it from the inside of any body, as we would pump air out of a receivel yet we know, from the nature of light vibrations, it must possess more the nature of a solid than of a gas. From our experiments, also, we see it is highly in. compressible, and can sustain great stress, and trans- mit vibrations and pressures with immense velocity. Probably, therefore, it possesses a jelly-like structure. An attempt has also been made to conneot the cause of gravity with the medium, but the difficulty in this I question is that it requires the medium to be of the nature of a gas, with molecules of exceeding minute. ness, and moving with immense velocity, which does not agree with the evidence derived from the study of other phenomena, in which, undoubtedly, it plays a principal part. As researches are continued, however, these difficulties may disappear, and this secret of nature also laid open in which case the last, ot nearly the last, stronghold of action at a distance will be destroyed, and the universe will be displayed as one connected arrangement, one part influencing another by a regular mechanism, in which there is no break.—Science for All. THE BEDOUIN OF EGYPT. Our Bedouin are often needlessly noisy, and the man told off to watch the tents at night is likely to forget that if he sings to keep himself awake, other- hear him as well. And an Arab song is more noisy than musical. I should call the singer,perhaps, more tiresome than noisy, for he does not open his mouth, but hums loudly within himself, like a hurdy-gurdy in a cupboard. The quarrelling and shatter of the Bedouin, too, is sometimes intolerable by day. They I talk at the top of their voices, and find an astonish- ing number of assertions to contradict. Once on our way here I innocently stopped my camel-leader, a particularly noisy fellow, with a pinch of snuff, which he had never taken before. Perceiving a pause after a long unbroken babble, I offered him this pinch. He took it copiously, in his brown finger and thumb, and was about to tie it up m the cornet pf his shirt, where he carried his valuables. So I instructed him as to its proper application, and he was surpri-ed. Being a "gentleman," a camel-owner, and carrying a huge sword, he was too high-minded to sneeze, but he went through a rare combination of moral and physical efforts of restraint lest he should c inmit himself, and for a couple of hours walked in per ectniienco, furtively diverting himself of the mi chief he had got. It is curious how odd little, pa-sages come into a tour which might be desig- nated as a pilgrimage, but there is a humorous side to most life, and I defy anyone to travel with these son-; of the desert without having bis gravity occasionally upset by some queer phase of custom, o* by the unexpected importance attached to small matters.-Lelsure Hour. A joun:r lady who had been married a short time lately told a "bosom friend" that there was only thing more astonishing than the readiness with which Ned gave up smoking when they became engaged, and that was the rapidity with which he took to it again aftwtfaay tnm owM.

OUR LADIES' COLUMN. Tim last two drawing-rooms held by her Majesty have be-n pronounced the most satisfactory known for many years. The previous one, at which Court mourning was required, was but thinly attended but in disposing of dowagers, and many ladies who found it convenient to dress as the occasion demanded, the crowd at the two receptions held last week was much reduced. The old complaints of crushing and strug- gling through a crowd, to the destruction of delicate flowers and dainty trimmings, must now be silenced. It must have been the lady's own fault if an inch of blonde or a quarter of a yard of tulle was injured jast week. In point of fact, the dresses returned home in all the pristine freshness in which the modistes had sent them out; and in a time like the present, when dress is so costly an item in the year's expenditure, ladies owe her Majesty all gratitude for her arrangements for their comfort. There is little new to note in the Court dresses of this season. The edict concerning plumes was en- forced, but a Court head-dress is only so in name com- pared to what our grandmothers wore in the days of Queen Charlotte, or even in the first decade of Queen Victoria. Then the ostrich teathers were required to stand up, very erect, so that unless the roof of a car- riage were high pitched, the penance had to be endured of riding in a crouching position to prevent the plume being injured. The three feathers now worn are only what ladies know as "tips," and are fastened at the back rather to one side, falling towards the front, but flat upon the head. For a debutante the tulle veil covers the rest of the head, but does not droop upon the face. Matrons who have diamond tiaras or combs require only a small lace lappet, which is now knotted up, and does not flow, as in the days of high head-dresses and rigid Court etiquette. The bodice of this season is certainly the corset shape, which rises at (the sides and comes down in a point at back and front. So tax have the regulations for dress become that the young ladies wear their trains fastened at the waiit, attached to the band under the bodice. Matrons also had last week what the Court journal would style the manteau de cour below the waist, slung, as it were, behind. As the same length-foui-and ahilf yards-ie fltill provided M when the train was attached to the shoulders, it will be seen that carrying a train upon the arm requires deftness and familiarity with Court life. The skirts below the train are certainly longer than they used to be worn, and when the manteau is unfastened the dress is perfect, and can be worn without a visit to the dressmaker previously either at a ball or dinner. In colours there was nothing very new or differing from what had been seen at the Royal Academy and Grosvenor private views, with the exception of one or two unmistakably Parisian dresses, recognised by their strong colours, considerably in advance of what we have yet had courage to wear, Our Gallic neigh- bours seem to have been emulating the plumage of all the tropical birds in their museums, their reds are so advancing, and their golds so exceedingly strong. If a gallery of historical costume be ever a national in- stitution this may be styled The Flamingo Age," for we are racing against each other in buy- ing startling shades, though, as yet, Paris is in advance of us very considerably. One dress sent over by Felix from Paris shewed the old cherry colour that used to be so pretty in little girls' sashes worn over white muslin frocks, a train of cherry-coloured satin lined with old gold, and trimmed with thick quilting of the two colours cor- sage and petticoat of cream silk with brocade of crim- son roses thrown up, and roses of a different shade, deeper in eolour, of velvet appliqued. These deep roses were in diagonal rows, sewed on after the skirt was made. The corsage was trimmed with a rich passementerie of beads, rainbow and bronze d'art, spe- cially made to compass the shoulders and come down to the point of the boaice. The description may read but tamely, but this dress cost the dame who was its in- habitant, as Steele would write it, JB100 to eurtsey to her Majesty. Mrs. Mackay, the wife of the owner of the big Bonanza silver mine in America, has arrived in Lon- don. The fame of her Parisian parties and her mar- vellous jewellery and dresses has preceded her, and as we really do require a new social sensation,since profes- sional beauties are said to be played out, we hope this lady will give us one. It is not every woman who has the courage of her possessions and is not ashamed to put her money out to be seen. We talk of our family diamonds, our heirlooms that dazzled our ancestors, and are intended to stamp posterity with the hall mark of old descent. But what are the old compared to the new diamond possessors ? Lady Rose- bery at the Drawing-room flashed diamonds over the glimmer of white satin—a Rothschild all over. put Mrs. Mackay can outd,) the wives and daughters of even the greatest financiers in the world. They never had stringa from their caps passing under their chins of chains of diamonds; they never wore flowing tresses braided with diamond: they never wore two necklaces at once-one cf laige pearls and the other of diamonds, with pear-shaped sapphire ear- rings and brooch, and bracelet of diamond", sapphire, and turquoises. After all, Lady Clara Vere de Vere is only a pale shadow, a mere pretence, at a great show but a big Bonanza silver mine is much to be preferred to ancient lineage and a distant hope of being thanked by posterity. The man who asked what posterity had ever done for him that he should hoard for it had some truth on his side. Alas many of us are only too sensible of the fact that our ancestors did little for us. Perhaps Mrs. Mackay will bring over the dress she wore at her own ball very recently. Pale blue bodice embroidered with gold, draperies of pale yellow silk in which gold threads were interwoven, looped up with diamonds, train of pale blue satin embroidered with tropical flowers and birds, toque of lilac velvet embroidered in gold, having the diamond chains alluded to above. To this add in imagination all the ornaments, and a woman must be insensible to all the pomps and vanities of this wicked world not to wish to own a big Bonanza rather than land which no tenant cares to till and pay for. A most interesting exhibition of old lace is at pre- sent arranged in the galleries of Messrs. Maynurd, of Oxford street, the great lace importers for more than a century. Long before the recent revival of lace the agents of this firm had been buying up all over the Continent all the old needle point that could be met with, which eventually passed into the hands of wealthy English connoisseurs. From such owners as Sir William Drake, Mrs. Alfred Morrison, Mrs. Bolckow, and others, Messrs. May- nard have borrowed rare possessions, and it is com- puted that the galleries, not very extensive, contain about JE15,000 worth of rare old point. It is popularly supposed that the art of working old needle point lace was gone, that the cunning stitches wrought by patient nuns in Renaissance days were a lost art, but some specimens of lace made at the Burano School at Venice, to be seen at Oxford-street, disprove thia assertion. The history of this lace school is very inter- esting. In the year 1872 great distress came upon the fishermen of Burano, owing to bad weather and other causes. The immediate wants were relieved by a public subscription, but some benevolent ladies tried permanently to benefit the inhabitants by promoting female industry. Princess Chigi-Giovanelli and Countess Andriana Marcello found an old woman who had still some of the old traditionary knowledge on thewmaking of needle point lace. A few girls were got together with difficulty, as they were not indus- trious by habit, and by degrees the school grew until now 320 workers are employed, and comfort has come in among a once starving people. The lace made in the school is now no longer confined to one description, as at first, for as the skill of the workers increased other kinds were at- tempted, and now all the old laces of England, Flanders, France, Spain, Italy, &c., can be copied, and no stitch remains undiscovered. Very utilitarian people rail against such an expenditure of time over work which they are pleased to style useless, but when purchasers are found amongst the wealthy classes for the work, and the employment teaches women regular, steady habits, bringing. comfort to many homes, an amount of good is accomplished that cannot be gauged by mere theories. England is fluttering in her trade in competition with other countries, and the outcry for higher education for the artisan to enable him to do higher work echoes on all sides. The same may he said of point lace work. It is an art, and finds purchasers as such. At present our leoms turn out the useful lace for every day wear, which is all very well while the fashion of wearing so much upon dresses lasts. But let us not depend too much upon our machinery. More than once it has failed us and one trade after another grows weak, and eventually dies out among us. Art is an essential in modern educa- tion, and our women would not be the worse for gain. ing a little more skill in the art of using their needles, even though they do not devote their lives to making point lace. From the work of these industrious tishelwomen a good many useful hints may be obtained.