THE GARDEN.

(By Hoktus).

Calendar of Operations, September.

[lloktus is willing to answer any queries. Cor respondents must give thoir full uuino and address, though not for publication.

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

Black Cuuhant <S.G.IO—The black currant does not do well in tlie North of New Zealand. It requires a colder climate in the winter than •we possess. The best means I know of assist ing it to fruit is to lift your plunts about tho ono) of May and re-plant during August. The Uftmg causes the wood to ripen better. I would not be very sanguine about obtaining much frutt from them here.

Quicklime (Mcrium).—The above does a slight temporary damage, but not permanent. The best time to apply the lime is about nine o'clock at night—.he slugs arc then out feeding. If applied during tho day, the slugs simply re mam in theiri hiding places til] tho effects of the lime uro gone. Don't be deterred from using tho lime by tho little damage it does the seedlings. LiME-WATEi.-Thero are a few plants which do no-hkolimo in any form—such as the camellias, heaths, rhododendrons. &c. Others take more kmdly to it. When using, mix about ono handful to Uie gallon of water; give frequent applications till tho worms disappear. The presence of worms in your soil shows that the land is either very fat. or has a sour retentive bottom. I would advise you to drain.

Kitchen Garden.

This month ought to be one of the busiest months in the year in this department. Whenever the weather is favourable, plant and sow all manner of vegetables. Still continue planting early potatoes on dry, warm situations. Continue sowing main crop of onions as already directed last week. Successional sowings of peas must be kept up. and cress and radishes sow fortnightly. Make another sowing of broad beans. Frequent sowings of turnips ought to be made, so as to obtain thorn during the season juicy and tender. Still continue planting out cabbage and cauliflower. Give the ground for this crop a heavy dose of well-rotted manure. Make another sowing of seed for successional planting. Cucum ber, melon, pumpkin, and tomato seed, which were in pots, will be coming through the soil. See that the slugs do not get them. Dust lime all round the pots ; this will help to keep vermin in check ; also give frequent dustings to all vegetable seeds coming up in the garden whenever the pest shows its presence.

Flower Garden.

During, this month there must be increased activity shown in this department. All kinds of hardy annuals may now be sown whenever the state of the soil and weather will allow of it. A good number of the annuals make splendid bedding plants, giving less trouble than many of the more orthodox bedding plants. They can be sown where they are to grow. One of the best in my estimation is the phlox drum ondi. This ought to be sown extensively, as it is a profuse bloomer, and the mixed seed has a great many different arrange ments of colour. Still continue planting out the spring bulbs. Use lime frequently where the seeds are coming through the ground, as slugs do a great deal of damage if not checked. Greenhouse. Still continue giving plenty of air on fine days. There will soon be a movement amongst the general stock—then re-potting will be the order. When the weather is too wet for other occupations.have all the empty dirty pots washed and stacked away, so as they may be dry and clean when wanted for re-potting the stock or new growing plants.

Seasonable Hints.

HOW TO TEST SEEDS,

It is of the utmost importance to every one to know how to buy seeds as well as how to sell them. Now, Ido not mean to infer that no man can be trusted to sell good seeds to his customers, or that some seeds are any the worse for being one year old, for some particular causes and reasons ; but since seeds are usually sold to purchasers as new and sound, I do think it will be useful for all to learn that there is a true sign whereby to know old from new, vital from non-vital, or less so, as well as to form a correct opinion as to the character of the seed. It will be very useful in purchasing new flower seeds from non-descriptive catalogues. When you want new seed peas, put one from the stock into your mouth and bite it. If it is very hard, it is more than one year old. If the teeth enter it with moderate ease it is new seed. New carrot seed always has a green shade on it. Old seed loses this, and it is of a dead pale brown, nnd less fragrant. New parsnips, has a shade of green, which it loses if more than one year old. Onion seed is more difficult to prove than most other seeds, but if you take a single seed at a time and carefully bite it, you will find that old seed has a tough, dry skin, with a very white and harsh kernel, while new seed has a more tender, moist skin, and the kernel possesses a greater degree of moisture and is somewhat oily. The seed may be cut with a penknife instead of bitten. Onion seed that has no vitality at all has no kernel, or one perfectly dry. Test this by pressing the seed on a pieoe of white writing paper. If it leaves no moisture on the paper, it is of no use, and has been tampered with, or has lost its vitality by age. New cabbage and brocoli seed possesses a pale green shade in tho kernel when pressed out or cut, and a tinge of green in the brown skin also. But old seed loses this in proportion to its age, becoming of a dull, dark brown. Beet seed has a faint tinge of pale green if new, but is a dull brown if old, and its vitality is very doubtful if old. *

New celery seed has a faint tinge of green, and is vory aromatic, but it loses the green and becomes less fragrant if more than one year old, and is doubtful.

_ Lettuce seed is of a bright silvery gray, if new, and the kernel has a green tinge with it, both of which it partially loses with age. Lettuce seed will grow very well two Years °M. but above that it is doubtful. The black seeded varieties can only be tested by the colour of the kernel, which is the same as in the white seeded. Radish seed always has a strong green colour in the kernel up to two or three years old, which changes to a dead, dirty, whitish brown, if past growing quality. Radish seed will, however, retain its vitality four or five years, although it will not do for early sowing. Cucumber and melon seeds are of a bright creamy white, while the outsides become a dead pale brown, and the kernel a dull cream colour, when old. Either will grow very well up to three or four years old. After that they are doubtful, unless they have been preserved very carefully.

Fruit Growing.—American Blight.

{ Continued.) In most orchards the American blight gets established on the apple trees. It is very destructive, breeds fast, and spreads with great rapidity. In appearance it is like patches of cotton wool upon the trees. Whore it gets established on the bark, Unsightly protuberances soon form, ulti mately reducing the tree to a stunted un healthy condition. It is almost impossible to get rid of it when it once gets a firm hold

on largo trees, but With small trees it can bo easily kept under if there is no delay in taking means for its destruction as soon as it makes its appearance. There are a great number of different applications used ; I will give a few of them, though none of them is a perfect cure. I extract them from " Gar den Receipts" :—

Bi.usiiisti. — This has often proved a remedy if applied early. Provide a small flat brush shaped like a diamond, and mea suring about five inches in length by two inches in width. With this brush scrub all infected part.-;, and the bugs will disappear. Unquestionably some which lie under the rough bark will subsequently show them selves, but if they are attacked as often as they show their downy appearance on the trees they will not give much trouble.

Gas Liquok.—A Mr Baines has used the ammoniacal liquor from the gasworks with great success. Ho says :—First I procured from the gasworks some ammoniacal liquor. One-half of the tree I painted over with the liquor (full strength), tho other half diluted with water to the extent of one-half. The application was made as soon as the leaves had fallen in the autumn. The destruction of the insect was complete. I would advise anyone using this remedy not to use the liquor in a stronger state than one-third to two-thirds water, although on several sub sequent occasions I used it at the strength of half water with the most effectual result, and without injury to the trees, yet I be lieve that the liquor obtainable in some places ismuch stronger than in others.

Limk.— Take half peck of quicklime, half pound of flowers of sulphur, and quar ter pound lampblack : mix with boiling water so as to form a thick paint. With this in winter, when the leaves are off, paint the branches, having first removed all loose bark.

Oil.—Mr D. S. Gillett, of the Court Gardens, Great Marlow, recommends that they should be thoroughly painted over with ordinary linseed oil, the operation to be repeated if necessary. Train oil and other fresh oils have been used with suc cess ; but in applying these care should be taken not to touch the buds. Coal tar, naphtha, paraffin oil, and petroleum, laid on with a paint-brush, have been used with good eftect. Paraffin oil and petroleum may be safely used upon hard wood, but not upon wood that is green and tender. Soda and Terpentine.—Dissolve one pound of soda in a gallon of water; shake this up in a vessel with a pint of spirits of turpentine until they amalgamate; add more water to make the quantity up to ten gallons, apply to the trees with a syringe having a tine rose.

Mr Charles Joly, the Vice-President of the Central Horticultural Society of France, gives the following remedy for eradicating this troublesome pest:—To 71bs. of soft soap add lib. of train oil, two or three handfuls of soot, and flowers of sulphur; they are to be mixed with a pailful of lime water. When these are thoroughly in corporated, mix sufficient clay to make the mixture the consistency of butter. Spread a cloth beneath the affected tree, and scrape off all the moss and bark ; clear out the crevices where affected, remove the cloth, and burn everything which has fallen upon it, and paint the whole of the trunk of the tree and lower branches with the soap mix ture, giving an extra dose to all crevices and cracks. Autumn is the best time for the operation, as the winter rains wash the soap mixture off the tree down to the roots, amongst which a few of the aphides that escape the soap mixture may have taken refuge. It cannot be too frequently re peated.

I have frequently used oils for destroying this pest, and I have found that nearly every oily substance will give a certain temporary relief if put on with a brush whenever the pest appears. First crush the insects, then rub the oily matter over the part affected. If the trees are looked over often and the above applied, there will not be much difficulty in keeping down the American blight on apple trees. Don't let it make headway, or you will never be able to eradicate it thoroughly afterwards. I follow it up during the time the tree is growing during the summer months, trying to stamp it out as it appears.

Penny Wise.

Mr , of the Theatre Royal ■ —, who is one of the wealthiest theatrical pro prietors and managers in England, met with a laughable contretemps the other day. Like many another aged building, his theatre was sadly pestered by rats, and after several mental councils, he at length made up his mind that he would have to spend some money in having tho annoyance eradicated. He accordingly sont for Tl-ompson, the local rat-killer, and after a good deal of chaffering and bargaining the arrangement was arrived at that the theatre was to be cleared of rats for the sum of eighteen shillings. The following morning Thompson arrived with an assistant, and speedily commenced operations, and by dusk they had succeeded in capturing nearly two hundred rats be sides those they had killed. They were then shown into the manager's office to be paid. Mr handed over the eighteen shill ings with evident reluctance, and then i inquired, " What have ye got in them bags ?" "Rats, sir," answered Thompson, pull ing away tho money. "Then ye'U leave them behind," cried the manager. "Oh.no, sir," replied the rat-catcher; they aro my perquisites." " But ye caught 'em in my theatre _" " Yes, sir, but—" "And they're worth money, to sell for dogs— tuppence apiece, maybe ?" " Oh, yes, sir, more than that; but—" "Then ye don't take 'em out of this theatre," exclaimed the manager, making a rapid calculation as to the profits likely to accrue." " But we always have them," pleaded Thompson ;" it's part of the bargain,and we shouldn't work so cheap but that—" " They're my rats, caught in my theatre," interrupted Mr , " and ye won't have one of 'em—not even a tail." "Mayn't we really, sir?" said the rat catcher ; " it's very hard—" " No, no, no ! Leave the rats and get ye gone ; I want my office." " Let 'em go,then, Bill," cried Thompson, who was standing near the door, " but bring the sack with ye, that's mine." And, setting the example, he untied the top of the bag and let loose about a hundred hungry rats. His assistant did the same, and then making for the door, they let themselves out, leaving the terrified manager dancing a pas seul on the top of his writing-table, surrounded by an appreciative but some what demonstrative audience of his own rats. He was not aescued for nearly a quarter of an hour, as the heartless rat-catcher took out the stage door-keeper to have a drink, and when some one at length camo to his assistance, he was perfectly willing to let the rats go at an alarming sacrifice. This is said to be the only instance of Mr getting the worst ola sharp bargain.

On ono of the gentlemen in Congress saying "We must return to the food of our ancestors," somebody asked, "What food does he mean ?" " Thistles, I suppose, was the reply.

Rob o' the Trows.

Ax amusing illustration which demonstrates the drinking habits of the people onco oc curred in an encounter between a Scottish peasant and a nobleman.

" Rob o' the Trows" was an old fisher man, noted for his skill in catching sahnoii. He lived in a secluded cottage near the banks of tho Trows, and was much sought after by anglers. Rob indulged in one luxury—he never killed a salmon without taking a dram, and if he had companions, would proffer them his ponderous flask.

Ono day a noble lord, noted for his sel fishness, sought Rob's assistance during a day's fishing. Rob rowed the nobleman iv his boat to a likely pool, and in a few minutes caught a noble salmon. "Aha, Rob, said he, drawing his flask, " that's worthy of a dram !" Rob stood quietly waiting for an invita tion to drink. Receiving none, ho attri buted the omission to forgetfulness, and rowed to another pool.

"Aha, Rob, that's worthy of another dram !" oxclaimed his lordship, as ho landed his second salmon.

"That it is, my lord," responded Rob, feeling sure that this timo tho flask would bo handed him. But the nobleman again pocketed it, and resumed his fishing. A third fish was caught and a third dram taken, and Rob was not invited to drink.

Rob was thunderstruck at what lie con sidered ungentlemanly conduct Quietly rowing to the bank, he stepped ashore anil chained the boat to a tree.

"What are you doing that for?" ex claimed the surprised nobleman.

"Aw's just thinking," replied Rob, "that if ye drink by yersel', ye may c'en fish by yersel."

So saying, he shouldered the oars and marched home.

Stage-Thunder.

When George Frederick Cooke, the trage dian, was a youth, he resorted to all sorts of stratagems to get a sight of " the players."' One night at Berwick he slipped through the stage-door before the keeper was posted or any of the employees were about, and, groping his way behind the scenes, sought for a place where he might remain concealed until the curtain rose, when he hoped to be able to ensconce himself in some obscure spot unobserved and get a glimpse of the performance. In a remote corner he found a very large barrel. Nothing could be better for his purpose. Dropping him self into it, he found at the bottom two 24 ---pound cannon-balls, about which he did not trouble himself. Little did he imagine that he had taken refuge within the'machine by which the Theatre Royal, Berwick, pro duced its stage-thuuder. But so it was. Just as the last bars of the overture were being played, the property-mun tied a piece of carpet over the top of the barrel without perceiving in the dark its living occupant, raised it in his amis, no doubt wondering at its great weight, and carried it to the side-scenes.

The play was "Macbeth," which opens with thunder and lightning. As tho cur tain-hell oounded, away he sent the machine rolling. Horribly frightened and pounded by the cannon-balls, Cooke, roared out lustily, and, righting to release himself, sent the barrel on to the stage, burst off the carpet head, and rolled out in front of the audience, scattering the three witches right and left.

The Commerce of the Congo,

Thk commerce on the Congo is far more considerable than the general public is aware of, and its possibilities in the future cannot be over-estimated. The imports of English manufacturers are about £f>'_o,ooo annually, and the gross imports and exports are said to amount to £2,000,000 a year. Four British steamship companies call regularly at the mouth of the river. Of the forty-nine European trading ports, the Portuguese claim twenty-five, and nine tenths of the white population are Portu guese. _ But English traders deny that there is a single Portuguese merchant on the Congo, and say, with the exception of a few unimportant factories on the coast north of Ambriz, Portugal has no commercial inter est in the territory. Some idea of the depth of the Congo may be gained from the fact that vessels of 5000 tons burden can anchor in the stream of Vivi, 120 miles from the sea. Above Isangila the cataracts form the firstserious obstacles tocommunication with the interior. Mr Stanley has made a road 100 miles long past the cataracts, across which he has transported to tho Upper Congo three steamers in sections. Two steamers, the Belgique and the Esperance, trade between Vivi and the mouth of the river, the Royal plies between Mangayna, and Isangila, while the En Avant was launched in Stanley Pool on Decomber 3, 1881. From Stanley Pool the En Avant can steam for 800 miles into the very heart of Africa. The Baptist Missionary Society has eleven missionaries, four stations, and one steamboat on the river. In August, 1877, Mr Stanley concluded his long march of 6,900 miles from the east to the western coast of Africa, and arrived at the mouth of the Congo with the discovery, made at a cost of three white men and more than 250 natives of his escort, that the river Congo, or, as he called it, the Livingstone, was the most magnificent water-way in Africa draining a water-shed of 800,000 square miles and opening a highway for commerce to the whole of the equatorial region of an almost unknown continent.

A New Prince of Wales.

It has leaked out (says " Figaro ") that for some time past H.R.H. the i'rince of Wales has been somewhat inconvenienced by a gentleman of German-Jewish descent, who imagines himself to be the real heir to the Knglish throne. This person, whose appear ance is well known through his Ion"- black hair and general untidy appearance, has been in the habit of promenading Pull Mall, in front of Marlborough House, during several hours of the night. Being foiled in his attempts °to gain an interview there, he recently made a flying visit to Portsmouth, where he con tinually haunted Prince Edward of Saxe- Weimar, calling several times a day to re quest to be proclaimed Prince of Wales, until the Governor's boatmen, stationed at the gates of Government House for the pur pose, denied him admission.

He then escaped from his medical attend ant, who had followed him to Portsmouth, and betook himself to Cowcs, intent on ob taining an audience of the Queen to press his claim to beinrr the rightful heir to the throne. The detectives and household police at Osborne effectually checkmated this design. Since then the good people of Cowes have been somewhat amused, but not a little frightened, by his various antics, notwithstanding that he is watched by three robust attendants. But, un fortunately, at present the law is on his side, owing to the tender-heartedness of his parents, to say nothing of their dread of public notoriety. The Daren and baroness whose son is thus mentally afilicted aro well known in society.

A NAUGHTY GIRL'S DIARY.

She Goes to tho Sea-Side.

W_l start for Long Branch tomoro' morning. Goy I mama was oposed to my going; she said it would be too eepensive to leave me at home, judging from the past: an' then grandma aded if Dolly wanted to go, her grandma would see it was all right. Dear grandma I I think she is perfeckly lovly ; I think I will look around her room this afternoon when she is taking her nap to find whore she keeps such a lot of money to pay for my party an' then for me to go to Long Branch. I have told her I was awily obliged her, an' I would 'member every thing she told me about being a little lady ; but Mary says grandma is spoiling me an' making me worser by her foolish indulgens ; ■so I asked grandma was she foolish ; an' sho asked me who said so '! 1 told her Mary. She said Mary better tend to her own atfare.., or she wood not get any wedding present. Now Mary calls me a tattle tale, when I only wanted to know if grandma was spoiling me. Fred says the wether is hot enouf to spoil mos'any thing, 'speshly his little sister. Ido not think Mary ot to use such a lo word as tattle-tale; it is not good form ; but tho hot wether is very bad for tho fanner's wife's leg ; it will havo to be cut off' if it does not change ; her husband has sude Charlie's father for hewy damidges. Charlie says if her leg is cut off' she will have to have a wooden one, but my brother says that will be lovly, 'cause she will not have corns on her toes—he wishes he had two wooden legs, so his shoes wooden pinch him ; it serves him right for bying 'em too small. Young men, I find, are very vane. I counted yes terday. Fred looked in the glass 81 times ; my sister only glansed in 31 times. Fred says I am mistaken, he only looked in the glass to asertane if he could shoot an apple off his little sister's head better that way ; he is goin" to praektis it up; but I will not let him. It is luecy for me his revolver is lost; Charlie threw it down the well after he hit the farmer's wife's leg. Poor Charlie seems very sad. I think he is very sorry for what he did, altho' he did not mane to. I notised him a little while before dark lening on the fence very soroful, so I went out to speke to him. I asked him was he sorry, or what; he ansered he was sorry ;he wood not have eten half so many our gooseberries if he had known they were so green. Mv goodness, what will cook say when she lurns he has taken them all ? But I mus' go to bed so as to be up bright an' urly. lam there. I have seen the oshun. It is magnificent; it is thuroly magestic ; at leste I hear peple say so, an' I myself think it is a nice place on a warm day to take a bath.

We are stopping at the west end ; the oshun is in plaine sight; you have only to cross over an' descend the bluff to the sand. There is a great eel of sand—a grea eel— enouf for ali tlie children to play in. It is solid fun. If Charlie was here I should be perfekly happy ; even Maggie would do ; but I am pritty well acquanted with sevral hundred n?w frends, an' we hay splendid times. I hay bin here 3 days ; it seems like :. weeks, I have had 6o much fun.

There is a little eirl I am very fond of; we (ire bosom trends, but we have only gnarled 11 times. Her name is Rosiland l-os-uiore, an' I am going to name my next new doll after her. She is rather quik tempered, but jus' lovly ; my mama says she is most as naughty as I am. She has a groan up sister here ; they are all stilish. I belevo they are considered welthy. She takes her bath evry day 'bout 12 o'clock. The way she sails down to the bath house in a pale blue 'mbridered morning dress an' a large white silk parasol lined with blue, an' her lovly golden hair simply braded down her back mos' up to her gnees. Evry body likes to see Miss Rossmore coming down to tho beach. Then when she slips out an' runs an' dashes in the water she looks two sweet for anything in her braded white flannel suit, she looks perfeckly stun ning. She can swim like a fish. So yesterday she was in a hurry, an' she gave Rosalind the key to the bath-house to lock it up an'give her the key when she came out.

I said to Rosalind wouldn't it be fun to dress up in her sister's close an' bike a promenade along the beach. She thought so too ; so we went inside an' put her things on. Rosa lent me her long-traned skirt an' she dressed up in the blue morning-gown, an'wetookherparsol an'sallid. Wemarched along the beach ; all the little girls envid us, so we enjoyed ourselves very much. When we saw her sister come out the water an' run in her bath-house we hid behind a heap of sand. We staid there a good while, then we walked slowly past; she was watching for us through the i hole in the door, an' called very sofly : "Rosa, darling, i am caching cold : bring me my things, quick, there's a dear." We held her parsol down over us an' santered on, pretending we did not hear. I'ritty soon we past agane. "Rosa, you little minx, I shall report this conduct to your father. lam getting my deth in these wet things. Como here this instance, or I will have numonia."

It was a hot day, frytful hot, so did not beloave she would get numonia, an' we walked on 'bout half a mile an' back acane. I had on her slipbers an' her long bathing cloak ; the peple lafifed, for they did not know Miss Rossmore was shut up. Rosa said it was a good joke, we were having a charming time ; so we walked past her agane. She said :

"You little imps of satin, you Khali p.y for this. I am—lam—oh, dear, what shall I do?"

It sounded as if she was crying, but we wanted to get our fotografs taken in her close, so we went on to where the fotograf man was an' got tooken. After that we went back to her sister, hut she was not thero, so then Rosa was a little fritened for fear her mother would scold, and we hung up her things on the nails ; they had gotten pritty wet, an' the sand stuck to them awful where we forgot an' a big wafe come up mos' to our gnees. We said we guest we would not go to the west end for lunch, we mite get punished ; we bought some cakes an' bananas out of a basket, an' stroled away until our folks should forget we had bin rather careles about her sister's things. We went on the join jioer. There was no music at that our, it Mas dul, but we resolfed we would wait an' see the boat go off for the city. After we had been there a while the peple began to go on the boat; then we saw Rosa's mother's maid coming along the beach in surch of us; Rosa said she was afrade she would be whiped. so I told her never mind, come on the boat a minit till the-maid went away, we went on in a crowd, how we laffed to see Therese (the maid) go back without us ; but we did not laugh long, for the wheel began to splash. " Oh, mercy !" cried my companyun, " the boat is off. we are on our way to New York, what shall we do ? what larks I"

" Where ?" said I, looking up to the sky for the larks, but my heart beat fast. I was dismade to think the boat was off, i felt so bad I began to cry. but Rosalind smiled an' remarked, " Don't be a baby. Dolly. lam not disturbed, We live in the city ; our house is on 5 avenoo ; the house keejwr is in the house, we will telegraf to papa whore we are. i think it is lots of fun." but she looked a little scared.

A^.er awhile we cheered up an' told the ticket man to charge our fair to Mr Rossmore, as we Mere tooken of by mistake ; so when wo got to New York he was very kind, an' paid a man to drive ns in his car ridge to Rosa's house, where we arrove about six.

We got to Rosalind's house all right, as I stated wen I wroted last. 5 avonoo is a beautiful street. There are a great many houses all close together. We rang, an' rang, an'rang the bell; nobody came. We sat on the stops an' waited. I never was so hungry in my life ; nothing since breakfast but a banana. Rosa said Mrs Prang must have gone a visiting ; she would tell hor mama, for she had promised sho would not. She asked mo had I any money left. I an swered net a cent. Then she said we would walk down to Delmonicos an' get some supper. They knew her papa an' would charge it. We had a delicious supper —macroons, oreme puffs, chocolate declaresr ice cream. Rosa said send the bill to her father. Then we went back to her house. It was getting dark. We wrung the bell with the same result as before, so Rosa was cross, an' said she was tired of me. She knew a family had not gone to Newport -et. She was going there to ask if she could stay. I mus' sit still till she came back for me ; not to stir an inch or I would be lost. Thon she ran away as fast as ever she could. She is a cruel deseetoful girl. 1 shall name no doll Rosalind Rossmore. That is off.

My frends did not begin to look for me until aftvr she arrived at Long Branch the next noon. She told them I had run away an' got lost. Tiny were very much alarmed. By that time I was not to bo found high nor 10. My papa telegraphed to Fred if I was home. I was not. Then grandma was nerely frantick, an' started for the seaside by the next train. She forgot her glasses, and was robed of her purse at the station, but she arrived alive which was fortunate. My mother was calm an' composed, .so that grandma's heart would not trouble her ; Fred whistled, but he felt very bad ;he acknoliges he whissled to keep up his spirit... He says he never realised how much he cared for his little torment until she was gone. She was like the old lady's coffee mill ; he had to get some other little girl to teaze him, or he couldn't stand it, like the coti'y mill had to be ground to put her to sleep because she was u*ed to her husband's snoring. Yes, Dolly Muggins was lost—iretreveably lost—where even Charlie's dog, if he had bin put on the .rale, could not find her. My poor father was distraoktcd, so the papers say. I have read them myself ; the akcounts of .ny loss are harming : they make me cry like anything when" I read them. lam no longer knone as the Naughty fiirl—i am a Heroin! I hope i shall not become vane and disgroablo be cause I have been losted an' the papers call me " the little Heroin." Fred will not call me Dolly any more : he calls me " little Heroin," an he takes off his hat to me every time we meet jus' as if I was some grand personidge; he does not pull my curls nor pinch my clucks nor chaso me with Mra McCurdys goto that was run over by the fire engine but got well, nor teaso Maud Evelyn like he used to. He tells cook to get up stilish brekfas's nnd regular dinners cause we havo a borhome among us, as he puts it. 0, he jus torments the life out of me with his ridicklu. conduc ! Everybody is very kind to me, they forget Dolly was such an awful naughty girl. Charlie has told mo in sakrid confidence he lay awake a whole nour the night after he heard I w.-us losted. sobing loudly an' wondering if my father would givo him my silver shatlane watch if I never was found, an' he asked for it. My brother says Char lie will make a splendid bizuess man, 'cause he always has an eye to tbe mane chance. I have [riven him my watch, because it was his 9 birthday, an' he felt so bad when I was fully believed to bedrounded, but my mama asked his mama to have him give it back, because my Aunt .Mamie gave it to me. I regret he has had to give it back. I guess there are a <;ood many policemen in the city are disjointed because they did not find me ; my father offered a reward of 500 dollars ha' tidings of his little daughter, ajjed 7, blue eyes, yellow hair, fair compleck shun, Newport ties, blue gingham frock, sailor hat: ],(XH> if she was found an brought to her heart-broken parens alive an' well. I truly think I ought to have tho reward for bringing my self home ; but he will not hear "to "it; he says I have run up a putty bill this summor ; but grandma lets me sleep with her now, an'she says. "Nevermind, Dolly, I will put it in the hank for you ; when you are of age it will be 2..00." That will be immense : I think I will have several lovely silk dresses, a span of orome-oolored horses, an' a cottage at tho sea-side, with six Ser vants, when I come of ago ;it is a lot of

I forjjot to write down how I got lost. You know she left me sitting on tho steps in the dark, crying : she was very cruel an' heartless: she did. not come back. Nour after nour went slowly, sadly by. Shivers went through my frame. I was so cold. A woman came along and paused, then she jerked me up very rude. . "Go away, off these steps, you little vagabond," said she.

"I'm not a vagabond : I'm Rosa's frend ; she's gone to find a house where the family is at home ; an' she's going to tell her mama how you stay out when you promised not to, Mrs Prang." She unlocked the door quick, an' drew me in : and she lited the gas in the hall and looked at mo sharp. My face was staned with tears, my frock was torn an' soiled 'cause we played so hard in the morning, but there was a lot of sand in my slippers, an' she saw I came from the sea shore ; so she got very pleasant, an' we had a cup of tea. I was sleepy an' tired—o my, how tired I was—so she took me up to Rosa's own room, rapped me up in one of Rosa's bed gowns, an' put mo in a very soft bed. The next I knew it was morning. The room was butiful, tho sun shone, so I thout I would dress an' take Rosa's doll, Blanche, fleur de lee, out for an airing before Mrs Prang got up. Rosa had told me what a big, lovely French doll Blanche was, so I felt well acquainted with her. I felt ashamed of my untidy frock beside of Blanche's pink silk dress, an' I had truble to get the front door open, but at last I got it open, an' wo set out.

It is very stnn^e how things happen. When I pinned up my torn slurt and took a walk with Blanche, I had not the least idea we should take a trip to Europe before we returned to tho house, but so it was. Yes, I have been abroad ! that is the reason Fred takes off his hat when ho meets mo ; ho says he has a great respect for young ladies who have been abroad. He thinks Mr Henry James ought to write a novel about Dolly.

Policeman (to group of small boys): "Como now, move on. There s nothing the matter here." Sarcasticßoy: "Of course there isn't. If there was you wouldn't be hero." . " Your husband will be coming home tired and cold," said a prudent lady who was entertaining a neighbour one cold night; hadn't you better run in and look at your fire a minute?" "Oh, I'll mako it hot enough for him if he don't bring mo the new hat I selected yesterday. I ain't the bride of a month, like you," was tlie brisk reply.

STAR SATURDAY SUPPI_EMENT, SE_f>TEMß___R 1, 1885.

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