A GAY DECEIVER.

1 *armnight late in June; the sky beautiful in spite of its dark the -r tremlles as with a delicious nf>l^ perfected summer. Short green *^ A* and soft to the foot; over it move fl&iy.t people in evening dress. The a a°*" ° iwfltly in white, or very pale ffafflen i Tfow flash and glow in gorgeous . {dotn* 8 ' * g jj jniting the hour and place. crimson ' B jde gleam a myriad coloured On«T^. wer .beds are outlined with in- Wl°"jJL Uttle lights; while here and DOIB tree is changed from itself into a tho* * \^i fairylike mass of pale foliage by itisßg9 *fijglit beneath it. The air is full »B*-fiS of fragrance. Suddenly the ofm_"Kstoplay " God save the Queen." - tMdMlP™Lneral rising of those who are TlieM' a upon chairs, a general taking off W'-7 A the Royal party passes down ifJsiS w «lk among the throng of well ' **^Z-t--night at the Botanical Gar 14'nothing more extraordinary. Yet te® l rh nn-_nglish stillness of the night, "* '"C sweetness of the air, fills one with """S excitement. There is a con > °|g ß iety about the crowd; it is to stroll over the grass 10 _' of being packed like herrings in Wm iras-Nt drawing-rooms. And the m n 8 perfectly honest; there is no *T u„rl Above; even the gross is innocent ,ffi W"> could help being happy was unhappy, merely because »m alone and could not meet anyone -/terestoi him. The women of his set *K,e met on the promenade were dull X, he cared for none of them. For ° _ hungry for excitement; he had Spell at dinner, and he was young Kg£ \ be affected by the soft midnight My f e it in the vein for adventure, ktha preserved a superb composure, y Walked the promenade alone, with an mM indifference which would have done "Sjto ft much older masher. For Lord S'though a magnificent specimen of 'Sled youth, had one great fault—he ITterribly young. His close-cropped I VaHs perfect shirt front, his solitary Snd stud, his broad shoulders and Siable coat, all were unimpeachable; uWgapper lip had as yet but the faintest I downy growths. But the anxious marriageable daughters liked ST none the less for that; they bore TL noon him, but he evaded ■Sm'-t-* For Ferdie had undo- what a bore it is to be made love i! b« anxious mothers and marriageable Liters. Their attentions had already Shim a great opinion of his own worth, mm tie superiority of his fascinating AAjb; so he walked about alone, the Satioh alike of the women and of the wgorg-us members of his own sex; and Wf_.l>nngering for amusement as a school toy hangers for tarts. The brilliance of : nJiiJene,' the scented warmth of the air, Afatiia desire something different from tbadollsocietyhesaw about him. Suddenly a flash from a pair of gleaming black eyes came straight into hisown. The loomis so direct and full of meaning that jtiSectt*llii_ almost like an electric shock. Httoned,and saw passing him a slight flrar«(l-ped in masses of white lace. Two ' fat-red roses wore fastened on her shoulder. Hawnt to the end of the walk, and when luntomed kept a keen look-out for the ff lite lace and crimson roses, and the burn to talk eyes. At last he saw her coming. I 88JM_edto be aware of his approach ; for j—IB she passed him she lifted her eyes, them again upon his. There miMoething fierce and gipsy-like about y face. Framed in the cloud of whits ]i$ it looked strangely handsome. The -Il crimson lips trembled, as if they were dips, for kissing. Lord Ferdie realised ridenly, as she passed him, that she ijj-iwalking alone. He turned immedi tifoj. and followed her. In a few moments she left tho promenade, and went tilaWipty chair at the side ; here she sat (fata Lord Ferdio lingered near and I—tchedher. Evidently she was perfectly t(_t aware of his neighbourhood. Now Trillin she would turn her eyes upon Ik for one swift instant. At last she ffl^ and wandered slowly over the grass. It looked awfully tempting, thought Lord F—lie. He hesitated one moment only; fl*M- he followed her. She walked very tarty-across the grass, among the people ifewere moving over it, towards a thick pimp of trees, where there wero no illii- Binations. This favoured spot had already ten discovered. Here and there a white _—_gle__ed; and very, very close might Maeai the fair surface of a shirt-front. Wfatlv the nook was woll approved by . lojsii Lorel Ferdie's "fair unknown" J»i- on with a slow step, and at last BBS- altogether. He was at her side. •BloO—d up in his face with those fiery , W&yes of hers aud stammered, " I have lwtmyway." Am yon alone?" asked Lord Ferdie. ilia hesitated a moment, then said, "I was with my brother only a few ;—OBaita ago'; but I can't see him any '•Don't look for him yet," said Lord Wife; drinking in courage from the bold bMijes. "It is delightful here." wWlady assented with a sigh of content. -flWBWe— some chairs close to her which mbm left recently by another couple, who had looked for excitement aside from I Mirone. She sat down on one of these ; tyri-amie, repressing a faint feeling of apprise at her ready acceptance of his sug- V&a, sat down on the other. '.The hoar that now passed had wings of _;:>«!swiftest; mere nothings were uttered, •Mftey savoured, to those who spoke and ■ -a^S".o;fthe raciest wit. The sparkling almost whispered, for a gleam a#ijtatlin the midst of white expanse, and Tviofoison cloak, were to be seen very near, ;jwigu no voices could be heard. Across Wgra- on the broad walk the crowd pro- SgW, finding pleasure in numbers. Lord ftrae and his companion had no desire to ■pit For he was perfectly satisfied that ggMVehture he had desired had come to *t; he was puffed up, like a pouter-pigeon at his success as a lady-killer, amhe was very much excited and fasci ||Sw by the dark *yes, whose gleam he Hgjg see in the shadow, and whose power jjMdehim thrill when they looked straight ;JpO—sown. _— *w k" eempanion, her heart was BgjjPg wildly beneath the draperies of

'. ■ _ c roße rat,her suddenly. " I | '-"WEO," she said, with apostive air. ■ Absolutely?" P. Yes; I oannotfind my brother in this Spd. ■■ Iwillgo[home." a'Let me take you to your carriage, then." "^ Lord Ferdie. a^She made no answer, but let him accom m her across the grass. At the gates W-was no great throng; it was not yet •-I **i g l' *** the air WM S0 BWeet that : . Wwho had no other engagement were glad Wjneer in the gardens till they closed. BjMI have your carriage called?" ■Wed Lord Ferdie, thinking, with delight; a™t he must know her name. ■ No," she answered nervously; "there ,«Bsomany. I will walk to it." ■ bord Ferdie liked this almost as well, for * gave him a few moments more of her

society. But these moments were brief. She stopped before long at tho door of a brougham; a footman immediately came forward and opened it for her. She bowed to Lord Ferdie, who remained planted where he stood while the carriage drove away. For he saw upon it a coronet; ho knew the family to which it belonged; it was one of the greatest in the land. Did it number such n gay Bohemian, such a fiery gipsy, as this lady of the gloaming eyes among its members? And had he absolutely stolen her heart at first sight aB to obtain an inter view which savoured of the days of Cre morne ? Lord Ferdie became visibly broader and taller; he strutted back into tho gar dens with an air as if he were tho approved Al lady-killer and masher of the day. His idea was to look for the brother, with whom he had a slight acquaintance. But he could see nothing of him; so at last he went home, too excited to do anything but walk bis room and think of his inamorata. Lord Ferdie was by nature a braggart, and he passed a great deal of the night forming careful phrases, in which he might boast of his conquest at the clubs.

In the morning, while he was discussing devilled kidneys, a note was brought him. It was in an unknown hand, but the writing was not distinguished enough in appearance to excite his curiosity. He opened the envelope languidly ; but the langour vanished as ho read : " My Lord, —For God's sake don't ruin a poor girl by telling of last night. James, my brother (the footman), told me be knew you, and that he was sure you knew the Duke. If it is so I must toll you the truth, and implore you to be kind. I am her^Grace's own maid, and she was called out of town sudden yesterday, leaving everything about. I didn't take you for a real gentleman, my lord, or I never would have spoke to you. James has promised to carry this; it was partly his fault, because he said the horses wanted exercise, and it could do no harm. He says you, being a gentleman, won't say nothing; and I hope so ; and, believe me, if I had known gentlemen wore such big studs, and swaggered so, I would not have made the mistake. At the samo time, my lord, if you wishes to see me again, I am going out this very afternoon, and shall be at Hyde Park Corner at three.—Yours very humbly, Jank Smith."

Lord Ferdie did not keep the appoint ment. He ran down to his father's country seat for a day or two, where hegave himself up to reflection on the folly of yielding to a desire for excitement when one has had enough champagne, and the night-air is warm and sweet. As for Jane Smith, he felt a revulsion of feeling ; it seemed to him that for the first time in his life he could hate heartily.

DEATH OF HENRI CINQ.

The Last Moments of an Exiled Prince

The long-expected death of tho Count do Chambord — known to his followers ac " Henry Cinq "—took place (as you will of course have learnt by cable) atFrohsdorf on August 24th. The hist moments of the ex ileu Prince eeem to have been strangely impressivo. The death agony set in on tho afternoon of the 23rd, and at half-past throe on the following morning the family and household assembled in the sick room ex pecting the end at every moment. From 8 o'clock in the evening, the Count lay motion less, the breathing being almost impercep tible, so that it was with difficulty that the medical attendants could be cert—in that life had not altogether departed. In this condition the Count remained throughout tho night, his bed being surrounded by all his relatives and friends. The final dissolu tion took place without the slightest symp toms of pain or suffering, the patient having for some hours previously been in a state of unconsciousness. It is uncertain at what precise moment doath occurred—tho evont, in tbe opinion of some of those present, having happened as early as twonty-five minutes past seven, and according to others, nearly half an hour later. In any case, the Count passed away almost imperceptibly. Throughout the night his breathing had constantly been growing slower, and his pulso towards the end became so weak that even tho physicians had a difficulty in ascertaining whether it were still boating. The scene in the chamber at the hour of death was most impressivo. All tho Count's relatives at tho Chateau were grouped around the couch of the dying Prince. Tho Countess, who every few minutes through out the night leaned over tho faco of tho patient to ascertain if he were still breath ing, was at length overcome by her pro longed exertions and was carried in a faint ing condition to hor own apnrtmonts. Just ere the vital spark had fled, the confessor took the dying man's left hand, and holding it up exclaimed, " Montoz mi del, fils do St. Louis ! " Shortly after that Dr. Mayer laid his hat—l on the Couut de Chambord's left breast. The action of the heart had stopped, and the physician announced to the company assembled by the bedside "It is all over." The Duke della Grazia, Baron de Bnincourt, Count Monti, Duke Blacas, and his attendant, Huet, who were at the bedside, sobbed aloud. When the end came the dying man's eyes were closed by Count Bardi, and all knelt and kissed his hands. The clergyman who ad ministered extreme unction fainted at the last moment. The doors of the chamber were then opened, and the servants and entire household were admitted. Tho body of the deceased Prince is worn to a skeleton. The Count's beard, which hangs down to his chest, has become perfectly white. The features of the deceased, which bear a calm and peaceful expression, are said to bear a strong resemblance to thoso of Henri Quatro. One hour after death the body of the Count was taken from the death-bed to the Grand Salon of the Castle, where preparations had already been made for its reception.

Deaths from Stinging Insects.

Wasps and bees appear this year, says the \a nidon " Standard," to be endowed with venom of an altogether abnormal potency. Within the spac« of three weeks as many deaths have been recorded as the result of the stings of bees and wasps. It is no unusual circumstance for a child or an animal, accidentally knocking down a bee hive, to be stung to death by the infuriated insects; although the death of adults seldom arises from such __ladventu— _,as these take to their heels, and escap with more or less severe punishment. The singularity of the present cases, however, arises from the fact that in each instance death arose from a single sting. Two of the victims were farmers, both of whom became insensible immediately they were stung, and died a few minutes afterwards. In the last case that of Mrs Anna Arkwrighfc—the lady was stung by a wasp on the little finger, and died half an hour afterwards. The medical evidence was that she died of syncope pro duced by the excessive pain. This might have been so in her case, but could not in those of the persons who became insensible the inttant they were stung. It would cer tainly appear that, from some cause or other, the venom of bees and wasps'is excep tionally poisonous during the present season.

RAMBLES ROUND THE WORLD.

Mission to tho Jews.

[Bythk "Star's" Rambling Contributor.]

NO. XVII.

While in Rome, I was present one day at a meeting held in the house of Mrs Burt chaell, in connection with the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel among the Jews. This lady is, perhaps, enthusiastic in her faith in this Society; but if she errs in theory, sho is wise in practice. Sho gathers a class of Jewish girls from the Ghetto at her house three times a week, instructs them in embroidery and needle work, and judiciously, but not obtrusively, mingles religious training with their indus trial employment. On tho occasion to which I refer there wero present only the adult friends and supporters of the Society. A very tall, gentlemanly man was the principal attraction of the meeting. I am not quite sure that I have his name correctly, but I think he was called Count Campanelli. He is a convert from the Church of Romo. Formerly, I was given to understand, he occupied a high ecclesias tical position at the '\ atican, hut he now devotes himself to evangelical work, and takes especial interest in the Jews. He spoke with groat fluency and animation; but my knowledge of the language was too slight to enable me to follow and under stand him fully. I gathered, however, that he was giving graphic and interesting details jot his labours and their results in individual cases.

Visit to a Sculptor's Studio,

On another occasion I paid a visit to the studio of Signor Orazio Andreoni, a sculp tor who bids fair to attain a position of eminence. His skill in producing life like busts is very remarkable ; and, strange to say, he succeeds without the presence of the living subject. Give him a faithful photograph, and in an almost incredibly short space of time he manipulates a bust in clay so like the individual that unless you saw him at work you could scarcely believe that ho had nothing to work from but tho pic ture. I had a proof of his peculiar skill in this respoct in a bust of Her Majesty Queen Victoria, which he had wrought from a photographic likeness. The resemblance was perfect. I also had the opportunity of watching his method with the living sub ject. A gentleman was seated in an arm chair upon a platform a few feet abovo the floor in tlio centre of the studio. An assistant brought in a pedestal stand, on which was a shapeless mass of prepared clay. Signor Andreoni placed this in front of tho platform, at a little distance from the sitter. For a few minutes he occupied himself in silent but earnest contem plation of the features and general con tour of tho gontleman whoso likeness in clay he was about to attempt. Unliko most portrait painters, who usually havo many preliminary directions to give, such as I" turn your hoad a little more to the right,"j "don't look quite so gravo," Signor Andreoni made no requisition. Ho told tho sitter to exorcise his freedom, to look about him, or smoko his cigar as ho pleased. Having apiiarently studied his subject sufficiently, ho began to work. With no tools but thoso nature had given him—his handH—he commenced upon the lump of clay, scraping off with his thumb a piece horo and dabbing on with his palm a pio—> there, until, in a few minutes, it presented the outline of a human head and shoulders. I remained about an hour, and at tlio expiration of that time I could trace a marked resemblance to the gentleman in the chair. Two days afterwards I visited tlio studio again. Tho clay bust was finished. Tho likeness, not merely in features, but expression, was so striking that I almost started. To uso a familiar phrase,—was a sparklinglikotiess. Thoartist had not merely mado a faithful copy of tlio features, but had caught tho expression and transferred it to the clay. I did not see tho subsequent processes, but was given to understand they were merely mechani cal. A cast of tho cloy bust is taken in plaster of Paris, nnd from this thomarblo is wrought. Herein lies tho clifferenco between a painter and a sculptor. An artist in oils and colours depends solely upon himsolf. Ho makes or mans his own work. But not so tho sculptor. His genius is displayed chietly in working tho clay bust; if ho succeeds in that, all tho rest is,,comparatively easy, and may bo entrusted to other hands. When the block of marble has been selected, a rough-handed workman may begin to chisol it into out lino rosemblanco to the plaster cast. Thou another, of a higher degree of skill, proceeds by careful measurements to make it exactly liko the copy. As the work advances, its different parts call into exorcise sociali ties of skill. Ono has an aptitude for doing tho hair, and does nothing else. Another, if tho bust bo that of a female, has a talent for working tho dolicate tracers of lacos and ornaments of dross. At last tho sculptor himself, with fine chisel, comes to scrutinise tho performances of his subor dinates, and gives the finishing touches ho may deem noccssary. In conversation with Signor Andreoni, I learned that this is the process by which Btatuary is produced. I said I had always been under tho impression that to secure a faithful likeness artists were accustomed to take their casts direct from the face. " That," replied ho, " is a clumsy method ; those who adopt it are not artists, but art—ans. The works they produce are des titute of the semblance of lifo ; tho features may bo true, but they resemblo tho poreon, not as he lives and moves, but as he may appear when dead. To catch the living expression the true artist must copy his subject in clay, as tho painter copies in colours, and then have the features trans fer—sd to the imperishable marble; and this lafit process is a matter of scale, and rule, and compass, rather than of ereativo skill." I felt the force of tins reasoning, and inwardly acknowledged that he had given a practical illustration of the truth of his theory. I visited several other studios. In one (I forget the artist's namo) I saw a bust of tho late Rev. Dr Cairns, of Melbourne. It was nearly finished, but it did not strike me as a pre-eminently successful effort. It was a likeness, but not so life-like as the modol I had seen at Andrionio.

The period of my first sojourn at Rome having expired, according to previous arrangements

I Started for Naples.

I chose a slow train in preference to an express, to have a better opportunity _of seeing the intervening country. Leaving the "Eternal City," we ran along in sight of the Aequa Felice and Aequa Marcia on the one hand, the Sabine and Alban moun tains bounding tbe prospect on the other. Passed Ciampino, Marino, Albano, and other stations devoid of special interest, and entered the fruitful valley of the Sacco. This was tho ancient territory of the Hernici, a range of mountains on both sides form a natural defence. We came to Segni, anciently called Signia. Tho place was founded by the last of the Tarquins, and the remains of the huge walls he erected as barriers against the incur- I sions of the Volsci and Hernici may

still be seen. Next, to Anagni. In the middle ages this was a place of renown. The Popes were wont to reside there at times ; but now it is without prestige. It was at Anagni that Boniface VIII. was taken prisoner'by Gillaume de Nogaret, a ruthless French knight who sided with the Colonnas. But the populace rose in defenco of the aged Pontiff, and rescued him after he had been held in durance three clays. The cathedral is the only building at Anagni worthy of notice. There are some frescoes in the crypt worth seeing, and a mosaic pavement of exquisite workmanship, and thoso who have a fancy for what Thomas Carlyle called "church tippets" may be gratified by a look at the gorgeous vest ments once worn by Innocent 111. and Boniface VIII.

"We passed several settlements on the hills at a distance, and by the aid of my glass I could see the ruins of their ancient walls.

Forentino is a town of considerable size. It was originally a settlement of tho Volsci, afterwards became subject to tho Hernici, and eventually, after having been nearly destroyed in the Second l'unic War, became a Roman colony. Many ancient inscrip tions and fragmentary remains are to be seen, but I could not stay to examine them. After passing Frosinone, Ceccano, and Ceprano, we crossed the Llris, and ran along a cultivated plain to Aquino, the birthplace of Juvenal, the satirist, and tho celebrated casuist, Thomas Aquinas, called by his admirers the "Angelic Doctor." Tho ruins of the theatre and of the temples of Ceres and Diana are to be seen near tho Via Latina. Tlio situation of the town is charming, and the locality has the reputa tion of being healthy and. free from malaria. We were now approaching the celebrated Monastery of Monte Casino, which stands on the summit of a bleak mountain over looking the town of San Gormano. The neighbourhood teems with interesting his torical associations. More than three hun dred yoars before the Christian era tho Romans founded a settlement here, and called it Casinum. The present town has no special attractions, but at a short dis tance are the ruins of an amphitheatre, said tohavo been erected byaßomanlady of sport ingproclivitiesathoi'ownexponse. Ummidin Qundrntilla, for that was her name, must have had a long purse. Pliny, in his letters, alludes to her wealth and vivacity. Sho was jxissionntely fond of tho drama, and in modern parlance would have boon described as " fast, "tho patronessofall kinds of athletic sports, and nn admirer of the "noble art of self-defence." Besidos tho jemains of Madam (Juadratilla's amphi theatre, thero aro other interesting ruins in the vicinity. On the banks of tho Rapido, Marcus Terentius Vnrro had his villa, in which, according to Cicero, Mark Antony often misbehaved himself. That is putting it very mildly. The truth is, ho gave him self up to his idea of pleasuro. In modern slang terms, he came hither when on "tho loose, and got tight." Or, as the sober historian is obliged to confess, ho rendered himself and tho plaoo disgraceful by his wild and dissolute orgies.

A pleasant walk or drive of tivo or six miles, affording delightful viows by the way of the valley of Garigliano and tho surround ing country, takes tho traveller to tho Monastery. From the olovated site a splendid panoramic prospect is obtainod, variegated by villages, cultivated fields, and rugged mountains stretching away to tho distant sen.

Tho premises, if I may apply tho term to tho mass of buildings that comprise tho Monastery, aro very extensive. They ac cord rather with the idea wo form of a modiicnl baronial castle than an ecclesias tical retreat. Tho entrance is by a passage through n rock, where the founder, St. Bene dict, is said to havo had his cell. The interior expands into soveral courts, con nected by arcades. Tho Church occupies tho site of an ancient tcmplo of Apollo, some of tho columns of which now adorn tho Christian sanctuary, Tho principal door is of bronze, and is in scribed witli a long list of tho professions once belonging to the Monastery. The let ters are inlaid in silver. The interior of tho church is resplendent with mosaics, variogntcd marbles, nnd paintings. On each sido of the high altar aro mausoleums —ono to tho memory of Pictro do Medici, and tho othor consecrated to Guidono Fiera mosca, tho last prince of Mignono. And beneath the altnr and its decorations lie tho bones of St. Benedict and St. Scholnstica. Tho library is largo nnd rich in literary treasures, ancient M.SS., nnd raroeditions. Amongst othor Bibliothecnl curiosities aro Origcn's commentary on tho Epistlo to tho Romans ; tho visions of Alberic, which, it is said, suggested to Dante tho idea of his Inferno ; and in tho archives, togcthor with many ancient State documents bearing the signatures of kings, dukes, and cmnorors, there is preserved a letter from Manoramcd 11. addressed to I'opo Nicholas IV,, in which the Sultnn, as an inducement for tho Pontiff to desist from warlike pre parations, offers to bo converted when ho comes to Romo. Tho Monastery is now chiefly maintained as an educational establishment, and many students aro trained in theology. After leaving San Gormano, tho route lies through a tract of country compara tively barren and uninteresting. Wo passed several places and stations which I can but name—Presenzano, Cainniollo, Vairano, Riardo, Teano (tho ancient capital of tlio Sedicini, and containing somo relics of its former grandeur), and Sparnnisi. Before reaching I'ignatnro, I got a glimpse of Vesuvius and tho Island of Ischia, since becomo memorablo by the disastrous earth quake. Wo were now running along tho rich Elain of Terra di Lavoro, anciently called ampania. The luxuriance of the growing crops denoted tho extreme fertility of tho soil ; fmit trees of various kinds abound. I was told that in favourable seasons it was no uncommon thing for tho farmer to reap two crops of grain Desides hay.

Women at a Prize Fight.

A tkize fight which took place on the 24th of July near Nanticoke, in Pennsylvania, wasinterrupted undor circumstances of a re markable character. The principals were a saloon-keeper, by name Paddy oNßricu, and Mike Breeze, a miner. The fight was con ducted according to what are known as " tho rules of the Marquess of Queensberry," and the stakes were for §500. Intense interest was taken in the affair, which was wit nessed by an immense crowd of spectators. Eleven rounds had been fought, and both of the pugilists had been badly punished, when all ol a suddon a large body of women broke into the ring, brancushing knives and pistols. The excitement was intense. Tho pugilists stood glaring at each other, the women glared at the pugilists, and the outside mob glared at the women. It was, however, evident that the women were in earnest, and armedas they were, no one dared to interfere with them. They sternly announced their inten tion to put a stop to the fight. Altera brief consultation between the principals and their backers.it was decided that it was advisable to obey the command of tho ■women.and tho contest came to an end. One of the seconds was rather severely injured by a " prod " from a pitchfork, indicted by the gentle hands of a middle-aged woman while he was leaving the ring, as a protest against the brutal exhibition in which ho had taken part.

HUMOUROUS CLIPPINGS.

A (jentlkman saw a board with "This cottage for sail " painted on it. Seeing a woman in front of the house, he stopped and asked hor very politely when the cot tage "would sail." "Just as soon as the man comes who can raise the wind," was the quiet reply. An extraordinary thing in ladies' bonnets —An unpowdered face. The Archbishop of Dublin once inquired of a physician :—" Why does the operation of^ hanging kill a man?" "Because in spiration is checked, circulation is stopped, and blood suffuses and congests the brain." "Bosh," replied his grace, "it is because the rope is not long enough to let his feet touch tho ground." A vigorous old fellow in Maine, whb had lately buried his fourth wife, was accosted by an acquaintance, who, unaware of his bereavement, asked: "How is your wife, Cap n Plow jogger '!" To which the Cap'n replied with a perfectly grave face ; " Waal, to tell you the trewth, I am kinder out of wives just naow."

" What is the key to this great mystery of death ?" solemnly inquired the orator, pausing impressively. And tho man in the front seat, who had been coughing all the evening, huskily replied that lie thought it must be a skeleton key.

A young lady who is much annoyed by the staring of rude young men in the tramcars, and who is, moreover, beyond her years a shrewd judge of human nature, has dis covered a simple remedy against the dis comfort. She says that by gazing at the shoes of such silent admirers with a look composed of equal parts of amusement and depreciation the most annoying boro is re duced to a contemplation of the samo articles, and in wondering what is the matter with them is kept diligently on.. ployed for an indefinite poriod.

A certain minister, it is reported, had been invited to fill a vacant pulpit, and was to preach his trial sermon in anticipation of a call. At tho house of a leading member where ho stopped, his host said ho hoped he would avoid saying anything in his sermon to offend tho Spiritualists, as there were many in tho town who attended. Walking down tho street, another loading light of the chapel was met, who hoped ho would not say anything to offend tlio Universalis—, aB many of thum attended their chapel. Just as ho was entering the pulpit, ono of tbe deacons button-holed him, and said, " The largest spirit-dealer in town is hero in his pow ; I hope you will not find it necessary to refer to that business." The porploxcd minister then inquired, " What shall I preach about?" "Oh," said the deacon, " givoit to tho Jews -they haven't a friend in tho town I"

Into tho child's sick-room walked a friend of the family, and going up to tho bedsido of tho convalescent, says : " Glad to see you arc so much bettor, Minnie." "Thanks!" returns Minnie. "I shall bo out in a few days." " And how long is it since you be gun to get well?" " About a week or ten days ago," answered the child, "over sinoe our doctor was drowned."

" Can a man many on two pounds a week ?" wns tho question propounded for discussion before tho Young Men's Mutual Improvement Society, and a femalo auditor shrieked : " Not if his girl knows that that's all tho income ho has."

When Mrs B. started for Paris she said to hor old aunt, a practical lady, "I shall bring you back a shawl. Now what colour would you like !" Tho aunt replied, after reflection, " Black, my child; your poor undo is so Infirm."

A littlo boy was munching a piece of gingerbread. His mother said, " Who gave you that, Tommy?" "Miss Johnson," lie replied. " And did you thank hor for it?" said his mother. " Yes, mamma, but 1 did not tell her so," ho replied. A crusty old curmudgeon, who Was laughing ovor something in his newspaper, being reproached by hiswifo for not reading it aloud so that sho could share in the enjoyment, testily said, " Oh, fudge, my dear ! a thing that's funny enough to make only ono laugh would bo dreadfully stupid if divided between two."

At a popular restaurant a clumsy waiter spills a plate of soup over tho overcoat of a guest. Fury and desolation of the guest. Tho waiter, calmly glancing at tho clock : "It is all right, sir! Don't worry! It's T.-tfi, nnd our soup doesn't grease anything after 71"

Some infants at an orphan asylum wero asked to namo a few animal productions. Many correct answers wero given. Ono infant, however, sung out, "Sweets, sir." The examined was staggered. " What sweets do you moan ?" " Bull's oyes, sir." When tho editor proposed and was ac cepted ho said to his sweetheart: —" I would bo glad if you would givo mo a kiss;" then, observing her blush, ho added, "Not neces sarily for publication, but as a guarantee of good faith." Sho could not resist that.

A Professional Invitation.

Some thirty or moro years ogo thoro was a favourite English prima donna. Miss Paten, who was courted by, and eventually mar ried to, a Lord William L ; but in con sequent of his peculiar treatment, she obtained a divorce from him, and after wards married n tenor singer named Wood. They quitted England for America, where they obtained somo considerable celebrity. Having lived somo timo in Philadelphia, the lady was invited to a party given by an American citizen who hot! become suddenly rich, and whose wifo used to give gay parties. They were very vulgar people, consequently Mrs Wood politely doclined tho invitation ; but. nothing would satisfy the citizen's lady but that Mrs Wood must appear, as tlio lady had intimated that me had oxpected her in order to give eclat to her party. So Mr and Mrs Wood re luctantly went. When tho entertainments of the evening were fairly commenced and sovoral of tho company had sung, the hostess pressed Mrs Wood to go to the piano and sing, which sho declined on the ground of being fatigued. Tho astonish ment created Dy Mrs Wood's refusal to oblige her friends was evinced by the hostess with a fixed stare; at length she broke out with —" What, not sing, Mrs Wood ? why it was for this I invited you to my party. Why, I should not have thought of inviting you but for this; and I told my guests you wore coming, and that they should hear you sing !" "Oh I" replied Mrs Wood, " 1 was not aware that you invited me professionally, but since such was your intention, I shall of course sing at once." So Mrs Wood seated herself at tho piano* sang most delightfully everything that her hostess and friends asked for, to tho entire gratification of all the party. On the follow ing day, however, when the host and hostess were counting up the cost of their enter tainment (for, rich as they were, they had not lost their former regard for economy), to their astonishment and consternation, there came in a demand from Mr Wood for 100 dols. for "Mrs Wood's professional services " at their party the preceding even ing, accompanied by a note couched in terms that made it quite certain that the demand would be insisted on. And, how ever much they wore mortified by this un expected demand, they deemed it most prudent to pay it, and hold their tongues. 'Leisure Hour,"

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT. OCTOBER 27, 1883.

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