Wrexham and Denbighshire Advertiser and Cheshire Shropshire and North Wales Register

CHRISTMAS CUSTOMS. Cliristmas in England is scarcely the shadow of furun r merry, brilliant self, when all classes of ..itU, united around a common banquet-tabl, Ii-i.lulg-d in th'? most unrestrained joviality and i. rrhnent. The wassail bowl, that once played < ..tt-?i?'i" a part at the C hristm:? banquet, has obsolete, while the old-time toastsof "Urine ¡,. "r Was /?/<7," from which the bowl derives j'? name, has ?ivcn place to the modem Come, I, iv's t" y"u," or I'll pledge you." Then, too, tii-- -inking of Christmas carols, which was once so pillar even at court, has greatly fallen into disuse, :11¡ is now principally confined to the lower classes. Kvvn the traditional mistletoe, around which gathers inu.-li of poesy and romance, and under which "V ma dens c<»(j uettishly courted the kiss of their pr< -i:iit or prospective lovers, now excluded from ihe churches as a relic of paganism, has been ban- i h -i by slow- degrees irom its high post of fayour; I the ule-block, or Christmas-log, with its <> ami wel'-onie, extending even to the poor and the granger as they gathered around the hospitable bi, iid. is being gradually supplanted by the Christ- i!i ,>ive, whose introduction into England is com- paratively of recent date. But if the Lord of Misrule has been the loser, Christian civilisation has been the gainer, in a more rational observance of the Christmas festivities in hngland. The Christmas-tree sheds its mellow radiance over a more quiet but not less enjoyable Churches and home sanctuaries robe them- selves in evergreen holly, ivy, and laurel. Generous rations of beef and bread are distributed to the parish on Christmas-eve by jewelled hands, while the Christmas bells still ring out their silvery chimes on T!I • < risp morning air joyfully and cheerfully. Nor is there wanting a spicy flavour of the old-time feasting and frolic, when there was brought in the lusty brawn By old blue-coated serving man; Then the grim hoar's head frowned on high, Crested with bays and rosemary, While ro; nd the merry wassail bowl, Garn s ed with j-tbbuns, blithe did trowl." To say nothing of the roast beef and plum- i>adding, Christmas pies, funnity, and snap-dragons, 11" Y uk-log and the mistletoe have not finally ab- 1: ated, while the boar's head, decorated with rose- aiary or prickly holly, maintains its place at tii- !,iiulish Christmas dinner, and is still served up in ■_ T. at state at the royal Cliristmas table. The "bringing in of tite boar's head was for- attended with no little ceremony. At Oxford it v. a> carried in by the strongest of the guardsmen, Christmas carol, and preeeded by a t'le-'cr, a huntsman, and a couple of pages dressed tH -ilk and carrying the indispensable mustard, iv'aich at that time was regarded not only as a (mat luxury, but an infallible digester. A somewhat similar custom appears to have J'f vailed in Genoa in the times of the Dorias, since w learn from Carbouo that a boar decorated with 1 ¿ 1 1 T •» i • .iui xa-uroi, aiia accompanied. by trumpeters ZIILIIII:Illv presented to the Duria family by the ,j"J1 toi San Antonio at Pre, at mid-day of the ah IIf December. l"niieily the Yule-log, a huge section of the i t.- h. u;i< eut irom a tree select-d on Candlemas- wl¡j,,}¡ so late as the time of Queen Elizabeth \1, the last day of the Christmas holidays. On the owing Christmas-eve it was dragged in and I'¡""j< upon the hearth with great ceremony, J'ie I -tv-maker* pulling with a will, and singing the • i.> the < 'hristmas carol. I- w.-is then kindled with a brand from last year's -una.- lire, which, if it was not thus kept con- iially burning, still linked the merry-making of t Mi>tma>-time to that of another. in lianisgate, Kent, and the Isle of Thanet, the styled hodening" kept long in vogue. I" 1¡, Ii! which appears to be a cross between the jiur>e" and the Klappcrbock of the Germans, ;■ oiiijianied by a number of youths in fantastic who g<j round from door to door ringing bells ,I. '} I:> -!i,^i:i^ Christmas carols. i < h' istmas nittMiiH >. ihat carry us back to the Morality i'lays, the origin of the modern English may yet be found in Cornwall and Glouces- -an- The players are for the most part plough- r • or i ountry buinukins," variously masked gi'o>v.-Mju»-ly dn-ssed, who, tricked out with and giit paper hats, go about on Christmas- ir-<iii house to house, and wherever received, i'1- a Hide dramatic performance styled a M 1 mil the time of Charles 1. it was customary in .:1..1,.] to proceed in solemn state and pr- sent the and 0;11""11 with a branch <»f the celebrated Glas- ■ • 'iiry tii 'ru. wliieh was .-aid to bud on Christmas- blossom OIl (Jhi i.-t iuas morning. A popular nd relates that this thorn-bush, which once .n-h- d in the chijivliyard of (jllastonbmy Abbey, subsequently eut down during' the time of i\il wars, was a shool of the still of Joseph of C.nui.: ii, stuck into the ground with his own i iiztt it took root and put forth and th. day following was covered all over siio-.s white blossoms, and it continued to ■m for a Ion- series of years, great numbers of i • *ple visi.ing it annually to witness the miracle. ii, however, in 17■>o, a shoot of the Glastonbury -in in Buckinghamshire refused to blossom, though t :1"IIS:IIU). uf sjiectators with lights and lanterns had ■ inbled as usual to see it, the people declared I*t't.' I l i tiltt t i lt! 25,li of new style, reiq.n that the "Joih of December, new style, not the true Christmas, and refused to observe >> such, most of all as the white-thorn continued blossom on the ath of January as usual. To end iii • dispute, the clergy of the neighbourhood issued •a order thai both days, old style and new, were to -iinilarly kept. < »ur limited space will not permit us to speak of I sni-stmas customs in Scotland, which, however — making due allowance for difference in temperament are quite similar to those of England. There are ta Yule-log and carol singers, the mummers, or j.:aiisarts, the mmce-pies and plum porridge, with tin- added Yule-dow" and "wad-shooting." Nor may we. for the same reason, enlarge upon 11, of the Emerald Isle, where purty culleens" four-leaved .shamrocks on Christmas-ave v. here the haggard banshee, sure precursor of im- p tiding evil, witli wrinkled visage and great in. iancholy eyes, and white hair streaming in the v. itid, sweeps through the g1.-11 or gleams out of the :rknes.s where parish priests brew the whisky punch and bless it with a grace, while the lads and lasses fut the merrv jig with mirthful up- t*tz" uiitil tlit, burning lights grow pale and the g' VN-ilig peat burns low. if Christmas in the New World we need not s: ak at all, since its customs, for the most part, have been transplanted from the Old. Even the negroes of Jamaica elect themselves a king and iiieen of /nisrule, and indulge in Christmas 1Jl.I.k and mummers.—Hari.tr s Magazine.

a IACIOl-S Sybilla, how Count Champignon ,e( /es 'i He is unaccustomed to our climate. Go and tell him to come away from that wiiidow.Tlio unit was a delicate-looking little fellow, with an enormous endowment of capillary decoration on his upper lip.—SSybilla, whom her mother mentally (•curved as a sweet matrimonial boon for the count, uioi'ed toward liim at a canter, and archly attract- ing his attention by a sharp thrust in the ribs, ex- claimed: Cuuut, I've got a message from ma to you." Ah, zat is so vert kind," he murmured, with a gaze of admiration at Sybilla, who continued: '• Yes .she says if you take off that moustache and put it on your head you won't be so apt to catch cold." LVNABLR. OF THE FOM FLIES. —There was once four hungry flies. One of them nibbled at a sausage: which looked very inviting. But this fly died of mtlammatiou of the bowels, for the sausage was < ovcied with aniline. The second fly tasted of the flour. but soon fell a victim to spasms, as the flour was adulterated with gypsum. The tliird drank out of the milk basin, and alas perished miserably of cholic, for the milk had been adulterated with chalk. 4' To die is the common lot! thought the fourth, itild in it,s despair alighted upon a fly-paper, on which a death's head was stamped, with the legend in large letters. And the fourth fly •sipped and sipped, and with great gusto, nor did it die; for the fly poison too was adulterated l .)tt

BENNY'S CHRISTMAS SKATES. A STORY FOR BOYS. Oh Dh A pair of ?"? a pair of skates bSawh?S ? ? ???7' as; ? tumbled down the ?-?Yv-? ? ???ht-dicss Clii-istmas morning, and seized lus stocky which hung at the clumncy comer. Sure enough, there were the noses of the skatesI saucily  °Ut  the —?-? of the stockin,s but how they ° i m there was a v .nder an?d ?fo? a tim a Wonder how' rii- y were to be got oom ut Something mu"t give 7 and it did- far in a 8peck of time the Loy, frantic with delight, hdd up! the beautiful pair to be looked at and admired l his parents, and sisters, and brokers. NevSer s per? 'j baps, since the cow jumped over the mJm ? y ordinary-sized boy leaped higher or damvj ow"1lright b'Tear gle tha"di! Beml)" that •; lng. He was like a Kefc' norv(' c?)iistayit bouueo. I OlT' w Z j v £ Y He had dreamt all the m nt lso oT he tthh ought, about skates and skatin-1 ?? or ?iosng ti:m?e back lus i?d??eas had been bv-Le? rv cl?r ais to what he wanted Santa Cla.? to brim- hm > but, with a modest respect remarkable for one of S '?! age, he did not want to appear even to dVtat- or: be extravagant in his demands. It was expectin.r a good deal, to be sure, to have a pair of sk- t.w brought Doubtless, too, thi-? feel?pa? X ? ?k .tS h j! little aided by the talk of his doih? pan.n? who ¡ referred in a very unpL.asant manncr ?o his I ein- a 8mall boy, that it was dangerous to play on the it-e, th it ^°8 and hop; had been known to have their! a a ik? les sprained, their noses knocked out of joint a d their heads cracked, till reailv a sort of dread would seue Benny and hold him as its ??i'" for a time. But that would soon wear oft, aud back ajpin came the old spell, particularly when he law' his playmates gliding along and circling on the smooth surface. Then his heart would fairh- ache for a pair of skates all his own  Some one had told him that the papas and mammas of the other boys had bought theirs but they had plenty of money, and could get wl?t they 1! liked. If he ever got any Santa Claus must bring tI? hem. And he did. There they were, as ni.ea pair as your eyes ever looked upon. What bold yet graceful toe curves! What shiny blades! What heel-plates and screws What iron filigree ¡ ill the body! th Benny had never seen any of that kind before. He thought they were some new invention of Santa Claus, and already he experienced a thrill of triumph when he thought of the curious glances of the boyti whom he would distance in the race. < What are you doing, Benny r" asked the mother, as she watched him. He was seated on the floor, too excited to be iressed. I'm trying on my skates, don't you see ? Tliev I fit just right," lifting up his bare foot, to which he aastily strapped one of the skates. When he stood up lie felt an uncomfortable prick •n his heel and down he came. When breakfast was called, Benny forgot all ibout joining reverently with his papa in saying I grace. His mind was otherwise engaged, and every aow and then he turned his skates over to be sure he was not deceived, or point out some new beantv Happy, happy boy Every new caller that morning was attacked and forced to deliver an opinion, and somehow every one who came agreed with Benny ;hat there never had been such a pair left by Santa Jlaus before. Benny," exclaimed Mr. Aubrey, some time ifter his son began to quiet down, I will be rngaged most of the day at the Christmas musical iontest for prizes, medals, &c., at the Hall. I must jreside, and I want you to promise me that you will lot go on the ice to-day. The basin is not eutirelv irozen over, and it is unsafe for you to go alone. To-morrow we will go down and have a good time. "Till you promise f" This was not an entire surprise to the boy, who lad received many lectures on the subject, but he lad hoped that on a day when everybody was happy, lie parental checks would be less severe, and he night do just as he pleased. He muttered falteringly: •4 Yes." If Santa Claus hadn't left the skates, it wouldn't la vo been half so bad he could have gone ,0 the Eisteddfod to sing his piece, and contest or a silver medal, without any tempting wishes, lie was the best singer in his class, and would be sure to win. But the very attempt to keep out of I its mind the thought of skates and skating, only "astened it there the harder. Two o'clock arrived, and it was time for the meet- ng. He sallied forth, taking his skates under his inn to show them, so he thought, to his friends .vhom he might meet on the way. He took a cross it reet which led into the front, facing on the basin and the canal, so that as lie went by on his way to ;he place he could take a peep at the skaters. Here they were What a sight! Enough to urn an older head and stagger a stronger resolu- ;ion than Benny could summon. He nervously switched his first pair of skates, and wondered, any way, how they would fit and whether they would lide at all I Far away in a secluded part of the )as:n were the curlers, who were yelling at the top )f their voices, "Swoop it up," "Swoop it up, md the pretty stones glided into the magic circle. In another coiner was a dense mass of skaters shouting, whirling, dodging, tumbling, shrieking, which so excited the little spectator that he soon forgot all about his papa's admonition. In a second ae was on his knees fixing on his skates—his own air. He was proud of that. The other boys had .ent him theirs for a short time, but they always wanted them back too soon. Now he could be his jwn master. After getting them on he had to look i lmiringly for a few minutes at them. How pretty they were then he was on his feet. Whew ain't they clippers His legs went without his will, and if he wasn't careful he would be left behind. Down ae comes That m'lkcs bump No. 1. For the pur- pose of getting a little private practice, and to avoid being seen by any who might report his disobedi- ince to his papa, he went to a retired spot where there were no other skaters. He became more ven- turesome, and struck out toward the centre of the basin a stiff breeze caught him squarely, and he was driven before it. Eh, eh, wasn't that fun. He made no effort at all, but stood right up. and the wind took him. He sailed—he flew What booted the danger to him ? 011 he went, out beyond the centre of the basin, toward the deep, uncovered waters which had for days been so lathed by the winds as to prevent their being frozen over, lie heard at length the sounds of voices calling in ularm, but his only response was a chuckle. It was so fine to skate that way. On he went, and now lie thought he would turn- -he had gone far enough. Behind him the din of voices increased, and he thought he heard the sharp whang oi skaters behind him. But lo! he could not stop or turn, for he had not yet learned the skilful part of the science, and the strong wind blew him on. The ice was as smooth as glass. What could he do 'i The people saw the danger he was in, and hastened toward him. lie has approached the outer edge of the ice, and in another instant lie will be in the water. A bold and rapid skater was coming with the fleetness of the wind to his rescue, but he saw that he could not roach him in time, even if it was safe to venture to the very edge, so lie cried out:- Fall down-fall down on the ice! At once the boy obeyed, but with his headway and the wind he was brought to the verge of the ice, and beyond all apparent help. The people: stood at a distance, with blanched cheeks, aching hearts and trembling limbs, expecting to see him I every moment sink out of sight. The situation was I painful. "A rope, a rope!" shouted one. "Throw him' a rope!" He will be in and out of sight before a rope can' be obtained 1" shouted another. I Benny felt himself slipping, slipping along with I nothing to grasp, and his father's words burned in his heart. The skater who had told him to fall turned to the crowd and said I will get that boy, or lose my life in the at- tempt, and struck out boldly and swiftly over the thin ice which bent and snapped beneath his weight. He curved to the right, swooping like a bird in its circuit, the blades of his skates cutting within a few inches of the edge, seized the boy by the collar as he passed, and bore him into the midst of the throng. The rescuer and the rescued were hailed with pro- longed cheers, which rent the air. Benny was placed on his skates and told to march off the ice just as fast as his skates could carry him —an order which he obeyed to the best of his ability, and toddled home with his skates on, the: nose of one of them being broken off, and entered the house bawling and looking like a forked icicle. He always thought that his misfortunes on that day were owing to his disobedience. Perhaps he was II right.

14 There!" said Brown, as he wrathiuxiy pushed away the pie which his landlady had just served him; "the stuff isn't fit for a pig to eat, and I ain't going to eat it." THE orator who getl- U drawn" didn't thinic no. cut a pretty figure. What is stronger in death | than life ? An old ye low-legged hen. A wniTEit on physiognomy would like to know ifI: large ears denote a miserly disposition, why is a I mule so apt to squander his hind legs? THE extreme of patience—Waiting while a stuttering man gets through the word p-p-p-p-pre- p-p 'p-p-pos-ss-s-s-s-s-t-t-t-t-t-t-terous. "MAMMA, the teacher says all people are made of dust. "—"Yes, my dear, so they are."—" Well, I then, T t'uppote negroes are made of coal-dust, ain't they?" WHEN a man says he is satisfied with his lot, you may be sure of one of two things, either he is a very unenterprising specimen ot" humanity or ho is lying. A JOLLY-LOOKING Irishman was saluted with the remark, "Tim, your're house is blown away. i 44 Deed, then, it isn't," he answered, "for I have the key in my pccket." WILL love win F" is the title of a new novel. We feel authorized to Fay that love, properly backed with a bank account, will m:ke its way with success every time. ) Do you uy your music by the roll?" inquired a young lady of the deacon's daughter. Oh, no," she replied. "I always wait until Sunday and then I get it by the choir. A WOMAN h; s suggested that when men break their hearts it is all the same as when a lobster breaks one of his claws, another sprouting immedi- atelv and growing in its place-

A FATAL KISS. A CHRISTMAS SKETCH FROM REAL LIFE You could not find a cozier nook in summer that Allen Craig's home. It stood on a slight elevation a short distanci from the sea, and overlooked the little bay in whicl the fishermen's boats were constantly going ant coming in calm weather. A rugged coast line on either side added to the picturesque view, but occasionally the crags anc cliffs were lashed by fieree storms, and furioiu waves came rolling in the sometimes tranquil bay flinging fragments of lost ships and seamen on thi shore. The villagers managed to make a livelihood be. tween tilling the sterile patches of land around theii cottages, and fishing, occasionally encountering great perils in their seafaring expeditions. Allen Craig was the skipper of as hardy a crew as ever rode the angry billows. He was as stormy in anger as the sea, and could be just as calm. H( was born on the coast, and having spent his boy. hood days on the shore, he received his first and most lasting impressions from the changeful ocean, which sometimes came roaring almost to the door oj his cottage. Annie was his only daughter and sole companion. Her mother died when the child was ten, now she was eighteen, and the sweetest girl on all the coast. In the long winter evenings the young people would come to the old skipper's house and make it ring with song and laughter, while the moments flew merrily by, and everybody felt sorry when it was time to go home. During these visits Allen's keen eyes were on the watch, and he noticed with pain that one of the young men, named Edward Clifton, paid special attention to Annie. Ned Clifton was regarded as the village idler. "A poor prospect he has of ever being able to support a wife," thought Allen Craig to himself, as he mused over the situation one night, while smoking his pipe before the fire, after the young folks had gone away, and Annie, after giving Mi? her good-night kiss, had retired to her peaceful rest with a happy heart-made still happier by thoughts of Ned Clifton. That night Ned had been unusually marked in his attentions, and on one occasion, Allen Craig saw him whisper something in Annie's ear that appeared to kindle a new pleasure in her eye. It sh all not be," said Craig to himself, as he laid down his pipe. My Annie must never marry that village idler. He can neither handle an oar or a spade, and she'd starve on his hands. I'll forbid him the house, and shame him the next time before his companions." Christmas was coming, and there was a song in every heart. No home, even in that fishing village, where fate frequently dealt hard with the people, was too poor to do honour to the happy, sacred season, and glimpses of preparation were already manifested in every cottage. The kissing bush of mistletoe or holly hung just inside the door of many a hut, telling that the day of days was close at hand. It was, in fact, the night before Christmas Eve when Allen Craig had an opportunity of carrying out his threat, and doing more. The young people were gathering as usual at hit home. There was a bright fire on the hearth, and Annie had a smile for every one. Ned Clifton was a little late in coming. The snow was deep, and his house was a good distune* off, but he came at last, and Annie opened the doot for him. His quick eye caught a glimpse of the tempting mistletoe bush above her head as he entered. Ilei lips were tempting, too, and no more delightful op- portunity had ever before been afforded Ned Clifton for honouring a gentle custom. Accordingly, he forced her very quietly, and ap- parently against her inclination, under the mistle- toe, and after a little struggle that thrilled him with delight, kissed her on the cheek. The merry laughter by which her young com- panions greeted this bit of gallantry was suddenly hushed. Ned Clifton had no sooner released Annie Craig from his arms than he was felled to the floor by a stunning blow from her angry father, who, with a passionate oath, exclaimed: You vagabond of the village, how dare you in- sult my daughter: Take that and never darken m v door again Annie was horrified. Oh, father," she cried, "that's cruel!" Is it ?" he said, in a rage. If you think it is, you may go, too." She made no reply, but burst into tears, and Ned Clifton, conscious of her distress, and wondering what great crime he had committed, withdrew with- out a word, although he was stung to the heart by the withering insult, which he would have quickly resented were it anybody else but Annie's father. The young people left the house quickly, and in a short time Allen Craig and his daughter were alone. He did not say much. It made his heart ache to see her crushed, but he felt that he had merely done his duty, and that his daughter was done for ever with Ned Clifton's attentions. The day following was the 24th of December. A stiff breeze was blowing, but the bay was compara- tively calm, and Allen Craig and his crew were out at an early hour for a day's fishing. On going to the beach they found that a heavy Sea was rU1l1lÍng, and that the bay was full of white- capped breakers. Some of the men hesitated to go. But Craig, still smarting from the incident of the night previous, would not listen to excuses. The day is ifne," he said. We will be back early Christmas Eve, after a good day's fishing. Come, boys, the man who does not go with me to- day, can never go again." This made the wavering ones decide at once, and promptly the boat was launched—thrust into the mouth of the snarling sea. The men leaped lightly to their places, and were s(-), -ii pulling against fearful odds. Two or three other crews, who intended to go out, retired on seeing the danger, and beached then- boats. Presently a wild cry rang along the shore. It swept like a wail of distress on the clear frosty air, and chilled the hearts of the villagers, who came running to the sea, with white and terror-stricken faces, to ascertain if any appalling calamity had be i a lien their relatives. Annie Craig was among the first to hear the cry. The thought of her father made her heart beat wildly, and, with flying hair and frightened look, she ran to the beach. It took but a minute. The sight she saw made her brain reel. There in the seething waters, just beyond the ri)(,s where the foam was leaping, she saw her father's boat capsized. It was tossed about, keel upward, like a toy, and the crew was nowhere to be seen. Oh, father, father, come back to me she j cried, in despair, plunging into the foam as if she would pluck him from the waves. "Annie, be calm," said a musical voice in her car. as a strong hand grasped her arm and held her back. A group of men went by, carrying a limp and life- less form. It was one of the crew, who had been cast upon the rocks by a wave. Oh, father, father cried Annie, moaning piteously. Ned Clifton keenly felt her distress, and sought in vain to soothe her. At last she said, in a voice of anguish: "Oh, Ned, if you love me, save him A craggy piece of rock jutted into the sea from where the lovers stood. It served in calm weather as a pier, but now the waves were dashing over it. J ust as she spoke a man's head was seen at the extreme end, and a hand was thrust up out of the sea as if trying to catch something. Then the ap- parition disappeared. Quick as a flash Ned Clifton darted along the rocky pier, and it made the frightened spectators hold their breath with awe as they saw him plunge into the waves and dive beneath the water. A minute later he reappeared with a human form. I TheIl there was a cry of encouragement and a general rush for the pier. It was a hard struggle with the angry sea. The form in Ned Clifton's grasp was that of Allen Craig. I lie held the unconscious body bravely up, for Ned Was a stout swimmer, and by his heroic effort those on the rock were enabled to lift the half-drowned j man ashore. But what of Ned Clifton? Just as the crowd caught up Allen Craig, a terrible wave came dashing i on the rock and made the frightened people run far up the beach carrying Craig with them. The same wave overwhelmed Ned Clifton, and the brave fel- low was submerged and smothered in the fearful rush of waters. Proper restoratives soon brought Allen Craig to consciousness, but the hero who had given his life I to save him was never seen alive again. Poor Annie She had gained her father and lost her lover —the only man she ever loved.

MUSICAL ComposEn.-A lullaby. A MAYOR'S NEST.—The Mansion House. T.œE'S WwaujoiG.-A waggon that is all wheels. WHY is a stage like a birdP-Because it has 96 wings and ffies. A PERSON WHO HAS ALL goitts OF KNOWLEDGE AT HIS FINGER-ENDS.—A deaf-and-dumb man. AN American optician has adopted a representa- tion of the sun as a trademark-probably on account of its specs. I A CORRESPONDENT is informed that it is not prac- ticable to feed the live stock on an ocean steamer in the trough of the sea. HE was the most perfect gentleman I ever saw," said a Kentuckian of Henry Clay. When you went to see him, he handed you the whiskey bottle I and then turned his back." CLARA (looking at the bonnets, etc.) Don't you think they are very handsome P Amy (whose thoughts are on the other side of the street): I I Very, 'specially the one with the black moustache. AN elderly man in Boston is so polite and loving that when he is dining with a young lady of his heart he puts syrup on his bald head to attract the flies and prevent them from annoying her. A FRENCH doctor has written a work on Diseases of Memory." A large book could be written on the same subject, with a profusion of illustrations from the lives of politicians before and after they got into office.

TWO CHRISTMAS MIS- I j J??i??"? was the orphan step-daughter of rCJyrus Mallard, the wealthy broker, worth nearly haylf a million of money. He had married her mother when May was a "dling wee thing of three or four years, and the winsome little creature had never experienced what it was not to know a real father's love, for Mr. Mallard had loved her as his own child; and when his wife died-which happened when May was about fifteen, instead of breaking down under his bereave- ment, he transferred his love for the dead to the living, 80 that May was positively worshipped—the ob ect of a jealous and almost idolatrous love. j M? eh? ad already made his will, in which May was named sole heiress to his great wealth, with the ex- ception of small legacies to some distant relatives, and annuities to a few servants; and he intended ftv hat i. she should make a great marriage—such a marriage as would double the fortune he intended to leave her, and place her at the head of the finest society in England. Wiih such views in regard to his daughter, Mr. •MM-allard ,.s feelings may be readily imagined when he learned that she already loved and had promised to marry an obscure young doctor, who had not a penny to his name, except the scant fees he occa- sionally earned but very seldom received; and who had still reputation as well as fortune to make. I His rage and consternation would have been ) comic if they had not been so serious and earnest as to be tragic instead. It is impossible, May, quite impossible," he said, finally, having exhausted every argument he could think of in the effort to change the girl's determina- tionj, that you intend to thwart every hope that I have formed for your happiness and prosperity in I the future." | I Dear papa, I trust I shall not thwart one such hope," the girl answered in her sweet, flute-like voice, raising her large, lustrous eyes that met Mr. •mallard s with the steady, trustful gaze that was the chief beauty of her face-and she was a very lovely girl in the first flush of youth and beauty. "You speak of my happiness, papa, and I know well how sincere you are in doing so, but consider, who should know so well as myself what is best cal- I culated to make my happiness P" Who can know, silly girl?-a child, an infant might know better than yourself, if you imagine happiness is to be found in poverty, in privation, in the daily and hourly mortification which will beset you as a poor man's wife, accustomed as you have been since childhood to luxury and wealth, every wish forestalled even before you can utter it. "But, dear papa, there are surely better things, in life than luxury and the fulfilment of every idle I I caprice; and in choosing one's life-partner the best and the highest should be looked for first, and all that is good and noble I find in George Dalton." "Listen, May," Mr. Mallard suddenly interrupted in measured, icy tones; further conversation on this subject is useless. Nothing can change my views-if you persist in this insane marriage you do it at your own risk. I shall alter my will this very day, and you need never hope to inherit one shilling of the almost princely fortune I had intended to bestow on you. Since this young man is so fine and noble it is only fair to test his disinterestedness— perhaps when he finds your loss of fortune his gy-anle passion may cool, as I have known that of others to I do under similar circumstances." "I know him too well to doubt him even in thought, papa-nothing can change George to me." We shall see." May made no answer; and the subject having dropped after a little while, she left the room. That same day she made known her father's de- termination (for she always called Mallard her father) ¡. Too ur. uaiton, to whom the rich man had absolutely refused an interview; and then very quietly she made her tirall preparations for her humble and unosten- tatious redding. From a feeling of pride as well as justice to- ward her future husband, May would not take any portion of her valuable wardrobe such clothes, she had the good sense to see, would be unbecoming and absurd in the wife of a struggling physician. She sold a few valuable trinkets that had been given to her by her mother, and she also retained I others from the same source, but nothing that she ever received from that dead mother's rich husband, except a plain gold locket containing his miniature which had been given to her by Mr. Mallard when she was a little girl, and which she always wore-it contained her mother's picture on the re- verse side. With a portion of the money she received for her jewels, May purchased an outfit suited to her changed circumstances: and the day appointed for her marriage having arrived, she once more referred to the subject—the only time since Mr. Mallard had forbidden further conversation about it. She I entered timidly, and having said she was now ready to go, added: "Good-bye, papa." Mr. Mallard was turned slightly from her as she spoke, and at the sound of her voice he turned awjy entirely. May waited a few moments, but he neither answered nor made any sign to indicate that he even knew of her presence, and with a deep sigh she left the room. A carriage waited for her in which she was driven to the house of the minister, who married her to George Dalton. Mr. Mallard surmised something of this sort, but all he knew for certain was that she had left him for ever, and as the heavy door closed after her, a smothered sob burst from the rich man's lips, and he dropped his face between his hands, overcome by misery. May Fielding left the roof that had so long been hers, to go to a husband's home in the early autumn; and it was not long before her constancy and strength of mind were put to a severe test in her new and changed circumstances. That was a hard winter-even the rich occasion- ally spoke of it, and its severity knocked at their hearts with charitable reminders. How much more, then, must the poor have felt it. As always happens during a hard winter, there was more sickness among the poor than usual; and Dr. Dalton, whose patients were to be found among that class, was kept busy-but his extended practice only served to lighten the purse. He never received a fee, and when he did he spent more than ten times the amount in charity, for to what purpose was it that he should prescribe for the sick, when he knew that they had no means of obtaining the prescrip- tion ? So he not only gave medical attendance free, but in nine out of ten cases provided medi- cine and food for the patients. Added to this he had to provide for his own living, and for a deli- cate young wife who had hitherto known the ills of poverty only through books and the daily news- papers. But May never murmured. She had a patience and constancy as great as her husband's and a heart as good and nobly charitable. One by one she parted with the few trinkets she had carried away with her but she lacked experience in the use of money, and naturally it slipped away more quickly than it would have done if she had been better studied in the art of economy. But no look, no sigh, no faintest thought ever accused her husband for winning her away from the wealth and luxury she lost through him—but which she felt always would have been less than nothing to her without him. Christmas-tide approached—the happy Christmas- tide which had always been a season of rejoicing, merry-making, and gift-making in May Fielding's life; and it would have been an equally happy season in the life of May Dalton-had not a terrible blow fallen on her. Her husband fell sick, of a low and lingering fever, caught in the poor district where he spent so much of his time, and May had to pawn even her clothes to obtain the medicines and strengthening food necessary for him. It was a sad and terrible Christmas Day when the young wife sat by her husband's side, while his best friend-a brother- physician-held his wrist in one hand and an open watch in the other, counting the beats that May knew only too well meant life or death. But the crisis passed, and George Dalton came to life and slowly to health. What matter it then that they were paupers -as poor as the poorest whom they had rescued from utter wantp He was alive and May could find words only for thanksgiving. She knew not whether Mallard knew of her trouble or of the great straits to which poverty had brought her; and George would not allow her to hold any communication with the stern old man, for he could feel nothing but bitterness towards him for his treatment of May, and, not having- her memory of past love and kindness from him, he could but wonder and admire when May still spoke of Mr. Mallard with love and gentleness. But brighter days were coming to these married lovers. Dr. Winthrop, George's friend-to whose skill and devotion he, in great measure, owed his life- interested himself so much in the young physician, and praised his devotion, his charity to the poor, and his great talents so highly that certain fashionable invalids took the matter up; and when it was found then that his lovely young wife was the onca 'I prospective heiress of the rich Mr. Mallard, who had made a love-match at the cost of a quarter of a million, Dr. Dalton became the fashion. Kich women fell ill for the purpose of having him in at- tendance, carriages lined the little street where he I kept his office, and patients sat for hours in his ante-room waiting their turn for consultation with the celebrated Dr. Dalton. When prosperity shone on them, May made more than one effort to win her father's forgiveness, but her overtures were never responded to, and her sorrow for this estrangement was gradually wean- ing away when the great financial crisis came, and the wealth of the rich Mr. Mallard was swept away at a single blow. He resigned everything to his creditors, and was left literally penniless. May I flew to the home that had been hers for so many years, but she found it in the hands of an auctioneer, I and people only stared at her when she asked for Mr. Mallard. Mr. Mallard—the ruined broker ? Why, had she not heard ? In his despair he had committed su cide-the body had not been found yet, but he haLl been seen to throw himself into the river. May returned home, shedding the bitterest tears of her lifetime, and for days and weeks she and George haunted the morgue, but they never found there the body of Mr. Mallard. Christmas, time again—just seven years from the _0 Christmas when "May 'had watched by the side of her sick husband, praying God to grant his life to her; and what a change-what a happy change! It was Christmas Eve, and the folding doors of the long parlour were closed while George and May decked the Christmas tree with gifts and got ready the myriad-coloured candles with which it was to blaze in radiant beauty on Christmas night. In the front parlour the three children, two girls and a boy, were playing at Santa Claus, and regal- ing each other with imaginary treasures; when Master George, who had tried first of the fruits of imagination, and had drawn aside the curtain from one of the windows to enjoy an outdoor glimpse of reality—a boy's idea of perfect bliss, a glorious I winter mght—suddenly called out: Ob, come, come, May Baby Everyone come here—blessed if it isn't Santa Claus himself making straight for our front door May, a lovely little girl of five years, holding her toddling little sister by the hand, hastened to the window, and together the three children looked out. It was a country scene on which they looked, for Dr. Dalton was rich now, and kept his office in town, where he could be consulted for general cases for six hours during the day. The old man approached, slowly and totteringly, so that he seemed as if about to fall at every step till having reached the door he expended his sole re- maining strength in a long, loud peal at the bell, then fell exhausted on the threshold. Tain' t Santa Claus," cried Georgie. "He never rings a bell—fcet you, May, it's some poor old tramp come for his Christmas-box." And, with the cheerful lack of sentiment peculiar to his age and sex, Georgie opened the door, and nearly stumbled over the prostrate figure before it. His amazed cries and May's more gentle sympa- thetic voice soon brought their father and mother- even before the servants had time to answer the im- perious summons of the bell. Dr. Dalton, who was a powerful and large young man, raised the prostrate figure almost as easily as he would have lifted one of his own children; and carrying it into the parlour laid it on a lounge. As he did so the tattered old hat fell off and the gray hair streamed back from the pinched, gaunt, famished face and in that poor, old, homeless tramp May recognised the only father she had ever known. "Papa-papa! "she cried, with heart-rending grief, and her tender tears bedewed the cold, in- sensible face-her warm lips rained tears on those frozen lips till an answering warmth crept into them. At last they brought the old man back to con- sciousness, but it was evident that his mind was far astray-and had been, no doubt, since the loss of his fortune, for he had roamed the country unknown and unrecognised since his misfortunes fell on him. But on the next day he seemed so far himself that he recognised May, and begged her to forgive him. It was a judgment on me, darling, for I knew of all your trouble, and I let you suffer without one kind word or a helping hand. God forgive me. I dare not ask forgiveness of you, my pet." But you have it without asking, papa—all is for the best. Our troubles but proved to George and me how well we loved each other, and now you shall learn how well we both love you." The poor, broken old man could only weep and sadly shake his head; but his enfeebled mind pre- vented him from dwelling too long n any subject; and on the next day he thorough .y enjoyed his Christmas dinner at George Dalton's table and already the three children had christened him "Granpa Santa Claus," which seemed to please him so much that in playing and romping with them he forgot he was a ruined man-the wreck of a wealthy banker-everything, in fact, except that he was happy, and that May and May's children loved him.

I GERTY'S CHRISTMAS EVE. It was Christmas Eve, and the morrow was to be Gertrude Harvey's wedding-day. Up in the best chamber lay her snowy nuptial robe of simple muslin and frosty lace; the great cake re- posed in sumptuous state in the pantry, and now Gerty, the bride-elect, stood at the window watch- ing with bated breath the winding road up which her lover, handsome Ben Watson, must come to her on his way from the railroad station. Without a word to anyone she slipped her feet into her overshoes, cast a warm cloak about her, drew the hood over her head and passed noiselessly out of the side door. Down the road, in the pale moonlight, she tripped, leaving dainty footprints on the newly-fallen snow, and rejoicing in the fragrant crispness of the win- ter night. His train is due at nine o'clock," she said to herself; "I will meet him at the old stone bridge. A few minutes' quick walk brought her to the romantic spot where a sudden turn in the road and a short, steep hill terminated in an ancient stone bridge whose single timed-stained arch spanned a turbulent brook, now frozen into gleaming silence. At the top of the little hill she paused spell-bound, and her joyous heart gave one great throb. Below, on the bridge, seated upon the coping, just where she had so often seen him, sat her lover-sat Ben Weston. "Ben, Ben she cried, in ecstasy, and the glen echoed her glad voice. She saw him rise and extend his arms to her, and she fled down to his embrace. Even as she reached the bridge she saw him stand- ing there in the moonlight, saw the dear face illu- niined by a welcome smile, and then-then she fell heavily with a dull crash upon the snow-capped coping of the bridge, stunned and half insensible. Presently, however, she gathered herself together, raised her head, and stared about her bewilderedly. She found herself solitary and alone upon the bridge; there was no sign nor token of her lover, not even so much as a footprint on the fresh snow, save her own. A sense of deathly despair suddenly assailed her. She felt that she had seen the shadow of the man who was to have been her husband on the morrow, and with one long sigh she fell ba k insensible, her head raised upon the low stone coping, and the wan light of the silver crescent glittering down upon her pallid face. *<? One by the old clock in the kitchen. Christmas Day was come, and yet the lights still burned in the farmhouse. Upon the couch by the fire lay Gertrude, still lifeless and pallid, while by her side knelt Ben Wat- son, chafing her icy hands and calling upon her name. When at last sherecoverel from that death-like swoon, she saw her lover and waved him away. You are dead Oh, do not haunt me But he took her hands in his, kissed her and told her that his train had met with an accident, and that all the time he lay amid the debris in peril of his life, he had fancied himself with Gerty on the old bridge. The disaster occurred at nine o'clock, the train being delayed by the snow, and he found her two hours later lying where she had fallen in the moon- light. But God had been good to him; he had escaped Tminjured, and even Gerty suffered but slightly from her exposure. So on the morrow the marriage bells mingled with thC) Christmas chimes and two fond, loving hearts were made one. Gertrude never forgot her strange experience, and it was years ere she told her husband about it. She wished sh had told him so mer, for one of his hearty laughs dispelled the uncanny reminis- eence, and hencefcrth Gertrude trembled no longer at the memory of that Christmas Eve

SEVERAL of our exchanges are devoting consider- able spac* to the importance of "cooking girls. It's no use. We don't want them cooked. The ra v damsel is good enough for us. THE busy bee is held up san example of indus- try to boys, yet what a terrible example he is. Ii boys wer like bees you couldn't put your nose into a tlelt olroom without getting it thumped. HEALTH journals insist upon reposing on thu right side only, and claim that it is injurious to lie on both sides, but we don't know wl ere they will find a healthier set of men than lawyers. TKAMPS have signa and tokens. XXX on a gate- post means, "The old bloke wot keep this 'ero doasing km has a gun and two bull-dogs, an all true gentlemen will pass on to the next nouse." A FAMILY of five brothers in the Scuth show re- mar, able longevity. Their united ages toot up 460 years. I1 is supposed they have engaged in no more hazardous business s'nee their birth than fighting duels. THE value of the prope, ty of the United States is estimated at 50,000,000,000 dollars and yet you will nnd lots of men who declare tltat the country owes them a living. The country should pay its debts immediately. A CINCINNATI manin trying to break a forty-dellar eolt smashed up ninety dollars worth of property, but as he had the applause of some two hundred men and boys he didn't mind the loss much. How are you?" said Fogg, greeting Brown. Brown—"Not very well; I'm just alive." Fogg I'm sorry to hear it." Brown wou'd give something handsome to know just what Fogg was sorry ror. MRS. PARTINGTON honoured us with a call this mr rning. She is looking well, and she says she is like the windows of a renovated house-tll lie old panes are out of her, and the pneumatics aio things of the past. It as the fune- al of the head of the family, so the story goes. A neighbour in the churchyard, viiile the service was going on inside, was spe k- iug of the deceased, and took the opportunity to 01 serve, in a tone of subdued sympathy: "And he lidl just got in his coal and potatoes for the win- ter. It is a sad case." A contemporary tells a yam about a setter dog wh eLi trotted up to a small boy and dropped from h mouth into the boy's hand a new jackknife vhiJi the dog had just found. This is, however, no circumstance to the Philadelphia dog which trotted up to a boy and dropp d at his feet a tin can and a piece of string. A young lady, being addressed by a gentleman lurch older than herself, observed that the only 01 jet-tion she had to a union with him was the probability of his dying before her and leaving her to the sorrows of widowhood. To which he b1:1e the complimentary reply "Blessed is the man who hath a virtuous wife, for the nuuibtr of his days ahall be doubled.

I FIRESIDE ENLIVENEES. What is the most eatable country in the world ?— Turkey. When. is an arm as long as three feet ?—When it' s a yardarm. In what tone should a ghost always speak ?—A tombs-tone. In what colour should your promises be kept?- In violet (inviolate). What is book -kucpin- ?-Forgetting to return borrowed volumes. Why does a donkey prefer thistles to corn ?— Because he's an ass. I What can pass before the sun without making a shadow ?—The wind. When is a £ 5 note like a picture at an auction f —When it's "gone." Why is a tight shoe like a fine summer ?—Because it makes the corn grow. What is that which by losing an eye has nothing but a nose left ?—A noise. Why is necessity like a great many barristers ?— Because it knows no law. Why do pioneers walk at the head of a regiment ? —To axe (ask) the way. Why is John Biggar's boy larger than his father ? —Because he is a little Bigger. Why is an Englishman like nineteen shillings?— Because he is under a sovereign. Why is:the nose in the middle of the face ?— Because it's the centre (scenter). Why are your teeth like verbs?—Because they are regular, irregular, and defective. Why is a marriage certificate like the Times l-I Because it is a news (noose) paper. Why is a pig in a parlour like a house on fire ?— Because the sooner it is put out the better. ) Samuel, can you tell me of what parentage was Napoleon the Great Of Cors-I-can." Why is a grain of sand in the eye like a school- master's cane ?—Because it hurts the pupil. When has a man a light to scold his wife about Iiis coffee ?-When he has sufficient grounds. What class of people bears a name meaning "I can't improve?"—Mendicant (Mend I can't). What's the difference between your great-coat and a baby ?-One your wear, and the other you was. Why are pawnbrokers like sisters of mercy ?—Be- cause they take great interest in serving the poor. What tables are most used through the world ?— V^ ege-tables, eat-ables, cons-tables, and time-tables. Why should all dressmakers settle at the Isle of Wight ? Because they will always find,, Needles" there. Why is the water in Liverpool docks like a respite to a condemned criminal ?—Because it flows from Mersey. Why should a novel writer be an extraordinary- looking animal ?-Because of his tale coming out of his head. What is the difference between a bee and a don- key ?-One has the honey and the other has the whacks. What is the difference between a seamstress and a groom ?—One mends the tear and the other tends the ma-e. What is the difference between a cloud and a beaten child ?-One pours with rain and the other roars with pain. What is the difference between the sun and bread ?—The sun rises in the east, and bread rises with the yeast in it. What is the difference between a blind man and a sailor in prison ?-One can't see to go, and the other can't go to sea! When is a schoolboy like a postage stamp?— When he gets licked and put in the corner to make him stick to his letters. What animal hath death no effect on ?-A pig, because directly you have killed him you can cure him and save his bacon. Why are washerwomen the most inconsistent of persons ?—Because they put out tubs to catch soft water when it rains hard. Why are thoughtless ladies the very opposite of their mirrors ?—Because the one speaks without re- flecting, the other reflects without speaking.

I JOSH BILLINGS'S BON-BONS. All tyrants hav died a violent deth. True charity keeps no day-book nor ledger. Friends are like flies-az long az the honey holds out they are plenty. Pashunce iz one ov the virtews, but it iz too often one ov the lazy ones. I never argy agin a suckcess—they win, and that beats cnny amount ov logick. Conshience makes us very strong, or very weak, az it upholds us or kondems us. Buty iz simply another name for grace, intelli- gence, and modesty, combined. Dandys are ov the nuter gender, and this iz the best thing yu kan say ov them. Man iz like the wind-he not only blows a good deal, but from every conceivable quarter. What a man gits dishonestly he haz but little af- feckshun for, and squanders remorselessly. I kant resist the man who begs for bread, but I allwuss insist upon hiz working for hiz whiskey. Repentance iz not only being sorry for what we hav done, but, what iz better, the not doing it agin. If I kant do a man a good turn ov sum kind, I am not partikulary anxious to make hiz acquaintance. Poison, calumny, and arson, are three dastards, villanous in their nature, and sekret in their attacks. For untieing a hard knot pashunce iz a good thing to hav, but for fiting hornets giv me gaul and bitterness. Az mothers I respekt all woman kind, right or wrong; but in all the other relashunsov life I judge them bi their merits. Man owes az mutch ov hiz suckeess to hiz pashuns az to hiz reazon, but the pashuns must allwuss be the slaves, not the masters. One great reason whi thare are so menny very destitute people in the world, iz bekauze five dollars makes them so very ritch, when they git it. The rod should be banished from the face of the earth; for he who handles the rod should be perfekt himself, and no sutch person haz ever existed. Originality ov karakter iz what makes it forcible. The mass ov mankind may be compared to a pint ov shu pegs, each one good for sumthing, but no partikular choice in the lot.

MIRTHFUL MORSELS. It is hard to tell which is the more ridiculous, the young fool or the old fool; but the old fool has this advantage—he will never be a young fool, whereas the young fool may some day be an old fool. A butcher sold a sailor a ham on credit, but M ing in a few days that he had gone to growled If I had known that he wasn't gr pay for it, I would have charged him three more a pound for it." Will you please insert this obituary notice 1- asked an old gentleman of a Binghamton editor. I make bold to ask it because the deceased had a great many friends about here who would be glad to hear of his death. A letter addressed to a man in Arkansas, and marked on the envelope, marked on the envelope, "please forward," was sent to the Dead-Letter Office with this notation: Can't forward, the durn kuss is Ded and down tranes all abandoned." ) I What is the meaning of the word tantalizing ?" asked the teacher. "Please marm," spoke up little Johnny Holcomb, "it means a circus pro- cession passing the school-house, and the seliolars not allowed to look out." "Keep your fowls warm," says an agricultural paper; and the advice is good. If the fowls are young, have them well-dressed and stuffed with something nice, then the warmer you keep them for two hours the better they'll sit. Edwin: And now, darling, before we part, how are we to keep our marriage a profound secrete" Angeline (promptly): Nothing easier, Edwin dear. You have only to behave to me as you have always done, and nobody will suspect it." An old lady, on hearing that a young friend had lost his place on account of a misdemeanour, ex- claimed: "Miss Demeanour? Lost his place on ac-ount of Miss Demeanour? Well, well! I'm a eared it's too true that there's allus a woman at iL: bottom of a man's difficulties I Briggs hired a horse, the other day, to take a little exercise. He got more exercise than he wanted: and, as he limped to the side of the road ) to rest himself, a kind friend asked him, "What did you come down so quick for ?" What did I come down so quick for ? Did you see anything up in the air for me to hold on to ?" he asked, grimly. A Detroiter had his hair cut the other day, and aftei, the barber had finished, the head was the worst-looking job ever turned out in Detroit. The man was hopping mad as he looked into the gla, and he roared out: "Why, you blamed fool, you don't know anything about hair cutting. Dat's !!1°, boss," said the owner of the shop, coming fur- ward. I told him to take your head to learn on. but it don't 'pear t* me dat he'll ever nu £ much c, a barber." A LAD jumped into a barrel of tar yesterday, and gave as his reason that he wanted to be a "jolly tar" without the trouble of going to sea. His mother gave him a jolly dressing down after- wards. IT may be," soliloquised an afflicted old lady, that my troubles are all blessings in disguise, as my friends are all the time telling me, but I do wish they'd just throw off the disguise once in a while. DID I understand you to call me a puppy, sir.pt Yes, sir, I called you a puppy." Lucky for you, sir. The insult is too small to notice but had you called me a do,an old dog-I would have knocked you down." RAIXDUOPS on the roof I exclaimed a senti- mental girl, as the patter of the shower began. "Rain drops on the roof cried her practical lover. Of course rain drops on the roof. That's what the roof's for." THEY WALKED- beside the turquoise sea, whose silvery ripples broke like angel-whispers on the shell- gemmed sand. "And is it not sweet to walk as slow as this beneath the rays of yon effulgent moon ? It is," she replied timidly, as she clung still tighter to the sleeve of his coat. The slower we walk the better." Because you like my company?" he enquired, with a sentimental grin.—"That is one reason," she said, "and the other-" She paused a moment, and he enquired: What is the other ?" i —"The other, she softly cooed, "is that on the heel of my left foot I have a throbbing corn about the size of a walnut -,a WIT AND lIU.AIOUa. SAFETY MATCHES.—Shan: fights. A ISCKUH RACE.-}':oor-w",hers. "BKETHKEN IN Ait.ts.Atnle twins. PKUSONAL BLEMISH.—Too much cheek. PERSONS OF UIOII POSITION.—Balloon -ts. WIDE SPHEHE OF USEFULNESS.—The world. PHIUFS ITSELF UPON lis BANK.—The onion. THE BEST PUESS RVBR MADE—Two lovm« Itrmlf. A HEATED TERM.—"I'll make it warm for you." TESTING THE NAKED TRUTH.—Giving the barer facts. lluED REMARKS.—Remarks that get yon into tr,j ii bl A COLLECTION OF STAMPS.—Applause in the galleiy. PEOPLE WHO DO NOT OBJECT TO FAr.-Printers and legatees. WHY are the glories of Greece like iron?-Be- cause they are o'er. "A FAKE saved is a beer gained," remarked Smith, as he walke-1 into town. THE impecunious man w:.o married an heiress, always speaks of her as a capital wife. A :ST. Louis horse chews tobicco. We have often seen a fa-t driven horse smoke. A MEDICAL WlUTBR says childrt n iised more wraps than adults. Thi-y naturally get more. WHEN a fountain or garden-host- plays on you, be thankful that neither is a false friend. WHAT time by the ciock is the best for a pun ? —A joke takts best just when it strikes one. W a EN the plasterer is at work upon a ceiling, it may be said that he under-stands his business. FUNNY (yet hardly so) that a man who loseil his grip on the truth, always clings stoutly to a lie. A GENTLEMAN who was very much strllc, by a young lady wanted to return a kiss for the blow. QUESTION answered: Inquirer. What is the extreme penalty for bigamy ? Two mothers- in- law. AnEIL a while these" un kissed kisses that the papers are telling about must become like unused paste. SAY, for instance, a dog loses his paw, and a rooster loses his maw, does it make orphaus of them? AN enterprising foundry-man has named an economical stove he has invented the "Semi- coal-'un." WHEN a. man gives up a houso, what rank would he hold in the army ? That of a bit-tenant. of course. SPRINGFIELD has a musical organizition called the "Half-past Twelve Club." Its reputation is almost one. THE man who minds his own business was in the City on Saturday, but left immediately, hj felt so lonesome. Quamy FOR HEADS OF FAMILIES. —HOW is it that the dresses ladies want to wear out. are mostly worn indoors ? "A BIRD in hand is worth two in the bush," and one on a bonnet is worth generally about a hundred times as many. THB shell always has the bulge on the oyster, and would win if some one with a knife didn't help the oyster out. MonEL wives formerly took "a stitch in now, with the aid of a sewing-machine, they take ene in no time. SOMEBODY is quoted as saying that an apt quota- tion is as good as an original remark, in many cases it i. better. "WUERE do the hats go?" an exchange asks. Some of them go to the theatre and obstruct the view of the audience. PREPARATIONS are being made to discover another eomet. One that will not get up so euly in the morning is preferred. FRIGHTENED mouse "il the name of a new colour. Put no trust in its not fading. We should expect it rapidly to disappear. | PHILADELPHIA boasts a man who tried to poison seven people. In a man who isn't a doctor this seems extraordinary. WHEN a man gets into stocks nowadays he ia very like the culprit of old times, and suffers in a corresponding degree. A NEw YORK woman recently paid for her dog's portrait. Well, it is probably worth a great deal more than the dog. AN Irish paper, describing a late duel, says that one of the combatants was shot through the ileshy part of the thigh-bone." "THB proper study of mankind is man," said Pope. He omitted to state that women might bo undertaken as an "optional." A SLIGHT twinge in the shoulders is an indica- tion of an atmospheric change. A twinge in the pocket-book is a sign of no change. THB New York Heiaid asks: "Does moon- light soothe P" It does, with the trifling assistance of a pretty girl and a rustio bench. THB newest sty!e in earrings is miniature lan- terns. Some girls are bound to let their light shine even if it takes an ear to do it. TT is stated that Tennyson and Browning were talking about the death of Carlyle, soon after hia decease, and came to the conclusion that the saddest thing about the death of a great man is the poetry which it is sure to call forth. A LAWYER once jeeringly asked a Quaker if he could tell the difference between also and likewise. Oh, yes," said the Quaker. "Erskine is a great lawyer; his talents are admitted by almost everyone. You are a lawyer, also, but not likewise." His KNEW.—At a Sunday school a teacher asked a little boy if he knew what the expression sowing tares" meant. Course I does, said he, pointing to his little breeches. There's a tear mother sewed. I teared it sliding down hill." Two prisoners were lately acquitted of a theft. The magistrate told them not to come there again, they might not be so fortunate. One of the prisoners said, "No, your worship, we'll not come again; we should not have come now if we had not been brought." AN able speaker, but one addicted to lofty lan- guage, had made a speech in the House of Peers, at which Curran was present. He was asked what he thought of the debate. I had," said he, "only the advantage of hearing Lord airing his vocabulary. A HINT is sometimes as good as a long speech. Mr. Foote," said a gentleman to that celebrated wit at a dinner party, "your handkerchief ia hanging out of your pocket." Thank you," was the mild reply; '4 you undoubtedly know the company better than I do." WHAT shall I leave you when I die ? said an insipid fellow to a young lady, whose patience he had exhausted. "Needn't wait until you die," she said; you can leave something now, if you will." What shall I leave ? he as ked. Leave your- self," she replied. He left. "HERE is your cigar back. Give me back my threepence," were the words of Johnny Fizzletop, as he placed the cigar on the counter of the to- bacconist. But you have not tried to smoke it," said the tobacconist. If I had smoked any of it I would want at least sixpence back." REMEMBER THE WAITER.—A North countryman, on a visit to London, had occasion to patronise a. restaurant recently. On calling for the bill, he paid it, and was leaving, when the waiter suggested that the amount did not include the waiter. Ah," said the man from the north, but aa didn't eat tho waiter. lady at sea, full of delicate apprehensions in a gale of wind, cried out among other pretty exclamations: We shall all go to the bottom. Mercy on us! how my head swims "Madam, never fear," said one of the sailors; you can never go to the bottom while your head swims. MA," she said confidingly, "Henry has asked me to marry him." "And you accepted?" was the query. "No," was the reply, "I didn't, neither did I reject him. If I can keep him on the atring until Christmas he'll make me a handsome present to induce me to say 4 Yes.' You know I've been wanting a gold watch for a long time." AT a juvenile party a young gentleman, about woven years old, kept himself from the rest of tho company. The lady of the house called to him, saying, "Come and play and danee, my dear. Choose one of those pretty girls for your wife." "Not likely," cried the young cynic "no wife for me do you think I want to be worried out of my life like poor papa ? THE HEIGHT OF STINGINESS. — A beggar had knocked at the door of a maiden lady pretty ad- vanced in years, and notorious for her miserly habits. Of course she refused to give him anything, whereupon the lad said: "I wish you had been Mother Eve." you stupid ? Because you would have kept the apple all to yourself with- out giving Adam a taste." AT a meeting of clergymen, not long since, a reverend gentleman by the name of Loss, of dimensions somewhat extended, laterally and altitudiually, presented himself. Says one of tho brethren to him:—"When you left your people, you were a great Loss." Yet," said another, when he dies he will be no Loss." Nay," said a third, he will be a dead Loss." THE boy who smeared the seat of his trousers with dynamite, when he expected an interview with his father, takes comfort in the reflection that thu old man can measure out a drink of only two fingers with his right hand; but otherwise thinks he'd have done better to take the walloping. He didn't reckon on the dynamite's working in both directions. That's where lots of folks slip-up in their little schemes. GOOD LIQUOR.—Three men entered a public-house at Tyne Dock, when one of them said Aa'll stand round, nyem yor drinks; mine's nun." One of the others also declared for rum, while the third said he would have whisky. "Dis thoo like whisky best, Tom? asked the stander," as he gave the order. Ay, div aa," replied Tom; aa like't that much aa's oney vexed aa cannot chow't! "—Newcastfo Weekly Chronicle.

■ = The Queen has, through General Sir Henry Poneonby, forwarded a post-office order for the, relief of the immediate necessities of Mrs. Wright, of Bull Lane, Rochester, who, on Sunday, waa delivered of four children. Three of them were horn dead. Mrs. Wright, whose husband is a labourer, had had nineteen children altogether. The Council of the National Rifle Association have decided to do away with the shooting at 1,000 yards for the Queen's Prize in consequence of the unreliability of the Martini-Henry at that distance so that for the future the oonteet be- tween the sixty for the blue ribbon of rifle shoot ing will be fought out at the 800 and 900 f aril* ranges.