he thinks of you when inhfc ifebt senses, Mr Grey," said W l9 inBM I^ Weknowhe h aß the greatest Bmfiae^ker Sbowea deeply, and when he t ? n! t Stenod himself once more, re dedthe widoW with Profound and so«ow ■'SrtSt continued: "In his lucid Jurats be **ed for yon, and seemed w0!?™ "to S ee you on business, as of old; Sfwhen he raved as he did just now, ho *™£d us all of taking Ws money." a sad and distracting form of a Woo!" murmured the banker. He M scarcely contain himself. He would Tthat moment have forfeited the five rtnasand pound- advanced on the mortgage Stbeßodwell if he might throw his arms ftotbe air and shout oat and laugh and *ite sick man spoke of everyone as a i rtjef in his frenzy, but in his clear moments spoke of him, G-ey, as or old ! w 8 did not suspect him exclusively ; the indictment to which he had listened in Ijralysed terror had been by accident pre ferred against him; by accident it might juve be-in preferred agiust auy other human lelng with whose name hir Alexander was The weight of earth had rolled back from Us breast, und he was breathing more freely than for many a long day. ,• The three now left the door and walked yo the room. At best the vast chamber «M gloomy, but now all light but a faint Jm glow that dung to the inside of the «attiins was excluded. C«y placed himself at the side of the vast vStotf-, Sir Alexander had sold off all Xiwnonal furniture; he occupied one of S. iSterooms and slept in one of the state bedsteads; these bedsteads Sothe deeds he conld not alter, and ffl» go down to the next heir. The first Kbe banker cast at the lace of the sick oVgafehimashock. The old baronet had always had a colour iXcheeks; now aU thewlour was.gone ftoffl the cheeks and gathered into the S» and forehead. The wrinkled fore £H»of a dull brick colour. The great ■SdSrkvrfß of the forehead stooS up X the dry red skin like the forked Sited .gotbte *inaow, •£ «»* *»»«• Simon panes the west is red. In the toS of the old man the rugged veins Throng* the counterpane the thin form .howedsharply. xhe breathing wwrquick and unquiet, the eyes staring and fixed upon C carved oak ceiling. Apparently he leirious paroxysm had passed, and the patient was suffering from modified col. "He will he better presw»tly. and may recognise you," whispered Mrs Grant into We earf She stood by his side, at the toot stood Maud, weeping softly, silently, for a while no one moved. Gradually the breathing of the sick man Jjw more steady, and the fluttering pulse & fte hollow temples more regnlar. "In a few minutes," whispered the widow, " be wi'l be quite collected." Aishe had foretold, his eyes descended boa the ceiling, and bsgan running over Iks worn and those present, «sif trying to Saw .memory. At length they were 5x»J on Grey, and did not move from him. Although the eye was dull and clouded, to was a look of intelligence in it. It wsttß eye of a weakened intellect rather Uus if a disordered one. "Ah, Grey, is that yon?" "Yes, Sir Alexander. I hope you feel "1 wb quite well. I have been.greatly troubled about that money, those Consols. Tbay tell me they have been sold. Is It true tbat my Consols have been sold ? I tile yon in the presence of my daughter, for rbom they were saved, have tbey been soldi" Tbe sick man's eyes were filmy; bat while tbey were dull to the perception oftnrnranding objects, they seemed to be pirtly closed against objects of' natural kriira only that they might be partly opened to uaascertainaWc forms and figures of wjiwnatural view. ' Ony1* heart quailed. Who were "they" that had informed him of the fraud! What did. the sick man know of tha fraaa! What did he surmise? Was thero anything tut imagination to account for these fear;, these hideous question', this awluV ordeal? H« was sorry he had leithisbag below in the little room where His Uiant had received him. Nothing could save him now bat a calm exterior and intrepid audacity. , He cleared his throat to make sure ills voice was obedient to his will, and answered boldly, but wfUy: "No ona has sold the Consols, Sir Alexander, I answer you faithfully, in y»ur presence and in the presence of Miss Midbarst, for whose benefit they have been acquired and put by." ■ He was amazed himself at the firmness aid clearness of his voice. If it had been merely repeating the words of another man, hi* voice could not have been less open to aaspicion; if he had been pronouncing a mat consoling truth, his manner could not bava been more benignly reassuring, httetd of the words being those of , another, they were so intimately his own that his existence depended upon their utterance; instead of being trne, they con tained a lie so monstrous under the cirenm »ta»K3 that they were as faUe and wicked ti»blasphemous false oath. He thought to himself grimly, as he rapidly reviewed tie words and the import of his voice: , "I am acting in a play of the Devil's writing, and mast do honour to the charac ter I represent and credit to the author." The eyes of the old man were fixed on the banker's face as he said : " What yon tell me of my money, her money, is quite ■ true I It is quite safe? Mo one has sold on»P "It is qnita true; no one has sold ont." "Bwearitl" "I swear it." * "Mrs Grant, get the Book. I am a masjlitrate, and you shall swear the formal oatb, to that yon may be punished if you are hiding the truth from an old helpless nun." Mis Grant placed a Testament on tbe bed besideMr Grey. Xhe latter took up the Book. He did not care to question the legality of such an oath. He thought he < wonld humour the old man. A crime or two more were nothing to him now, particularly when'these crimes helped to . cover op the other crime of embezzlement, theft, fraud—call it what you will. Sir Grey took up the Testament, and Sir Alexander, in a confused way, repeated words which could not be clearly heard, but ended with the clanse usual to the ending .-■.' Of a formal oath. j Mr Grey kissed the Book reverentially, and murmured the final words. As he Ottered the words, he conld not avoid the reflection that if he were acting in a play of the Devil's writing, some of the words to be ; uttered had a peculiar aspect as coming &om the Master of Evil. Mr Grey put the Book on the bed, and looked with reassuring glance at both the I women, The old baronet muttered to him self indistinctly for a few seconds. "Bad dreams, bad dreams," he said distinctly at •Mtj " they were only dreams,"

Mr Grey looted round again at the women and inclined bis bead significantly to; them, as though he wonld say : " Poor Sir Alexander I His dreams mn«t have been bad indeed, if be fancied anyone had taken bis money." By this the great flush had disappeared from the old man's forehead, the veins had snbslded, and a deadly pallor covered his features fmm forehead to cbin. During the paroxysms of his delirium, it seemed as though his head was in danger of bursting from too great a supply of heated blood; now it looked as if the walls of his skull and the flesh of his face were about to crumble and fall in for want of fluid sufficient to sustain their weight. But in the eye still lingered the heat and flickered the fire of the fever. He lay still for a while, and seemed to be about to fall asleep. Presently, however, all were startled to hear his voice ring out clear and firm, high above thejr notion of his in tellectual capacity: "Henry Grey, take her hand, my ■m* nfferetl her his right hand; then his S afdtoa her to .he side of the bed, where he had been standing. ~,._. , '■Now Henry Grey, take the Testament in your right hand. I am going to make you swear—l am a deputy-lieutenant—to cuard with all your power and wiles., my only daughter. Maud Midhawt, henelf and her fortune and ber happineis. Hay the words after me." " Herself and her fortune and her hap piness to guard with all my power," he " All your power and wiles," insisted the old man, in a tone of exasperation. "Mr power and—wiles," repeated Mr Grey, afe«r a slight hesitation. •• To act as executor of my will, trustee to her fortune, and guardian of my child. So help me, Ood." " Ki»s th« Book." Mr Grey bent his hand reverentially over the sacred volume and kissed it devoutly. " Kin the Bonk, my child. Take it in your own right hand and kiss it. It is the history of the life and sufferings and death of our Lord, and something of great moment ! is conducting." " Kiss the Book, you also," looking to wards Mrs Grant. " She did as he deeired. "Now, ray daughter, and you, Henry ! Grey, both together hold that Book, which U the history of the life and sufferings and death of our Lord, to my lips, .for I am 1 weak and nnable, and I will kiss it last of nil." They plaoad the Book against bis lips, and when he had kissed it they drew it back, and plaoed the Testament on the bed. ,' Mr Grey folded his arms tightly across bis chest; he had a feeling that his chest ; would burst if he did not shout out and i relieve it ~ . ~., "My daughter," said the sick man, if I should never tret off this bed again—and I feel that something great is conducting— when I am dead you will look to him for all advice and guidance. He will be your friend, your only friend, who can be of aid to you when I am dead. You will lean npon him. He will guard your money and aeo that no one does you ill or cheats you. He i« an honeit man, Maud. He has taken care of your fortune for me until now ; he will take care of it for you when lam dead. You will have no one else but him; no frieod in all the world but Henry " Oh, my God 1" burst from the banker. If the hangman were in the room, and any word spoksn by him, Grey, was to be the signal for his death, he could not restrain himself. For a moment they all three looked at him in grave surprise. His words were not perhaps improper to the grave ooeasion, but his manner of uttering them had something startlins in it. There was in his tone a cry of wild appeal against an inexorable decree of prodigious woe. Hia voice had more the sound of a brute's in articulate cry of despair than any human agony fitted to human words. It was a death-cry, the death-cry of some fine in stinct of the human bouL It was a cry the like of which no man utters twice in a life time. The old m»n regarded the banker for a momeut with a look of surprise. Then the expression of the old man's face softened, and he said : " Grey, my arm is weak. I cannot raise it. 'lake my hand. You will be Rood to her when I am dead. I know what the world may say. It may say, Grey, that joa and I are not equals ; that I might have beitowed the guardianship of my daughter's fortune among houses such as the Flenreys' or the Midharsts'. But I know what you are and what your father was, and I am placing what I value above all earthly things in your keeping. lam an old .man, and the doctors may be right thin time. lam old and weak, Henry Grey, and I want you to be her friend when lam <lead. Xhe world may say what It pleases about yon as guardian. I am firm in my faith in you. No orphan, friendless -the last, I may say, of her house-had ever a more prudent, or careful or wise guardian than you. lam old and weak. There is one more favour I wonld ask of you before you go—for I have said aIL Yon will not refuse an old man on his death-bed, Henry Grey?" " No," in a faint thin whisper. " I am weak, and cannot do it myself. Raise up my hand held in yours, and place your hand against my lips, that I may kiss the hand which is to shield my daughter when I am Rone." "Ob, Sir Alexander!" in a tone of agonised protest. • "I am very old and very weak. You will not, because I am old and weak and c»nnot raise your hand, deny me this pleasure." The banker did as he waa asked. 'When he bad placed the cold thin hand back again on the bed, the baronet sighed and murmured : " I am tired. I will try to sleep awhile. You may go, Henry Grey. God bless you. Henry Grey I Now I am at rest I" With a deep bow to the ladies, Mr Grey left the room. He went down a passage ! and then turned into another. Here he was alone, out of sight and earshot. He threw his arms heavily up, straight above his head, and flung himself agawßt the wall witk a groan, beat his arms and hands against the wall, and struck his fore head against the wall. "Do I live?" he cried; "or am I already among the damned?" END OF VOLUME 1, (To be Continued.)

Relic-hunters are eagerly buying np Wagner's belongings. Ihe railway truck in which the body. was conveyed from Venice has been secured, the gondola in which he took the air every day has been bought for his widow, and the owner of a table at which the master was accustomed to sit while listening to the military band in the Piazzo di San Marco, has refused 301 francs for it. The Venice City Council has named a street after Wagner, and placed a memorial tablet on the house where he resided.

A BED INDIAN REVENGE RAID.

Airm about half an hour's ride, my hers e began to prick up his ears and snort slightly, proving that I was nearing the rendezvous. I looked eagerly forward to see how many men poor Ad. had been able to collect for this desperate errand, , ' There were terribly few; I counted only fifteen when I came up. We sat motionless on our horses' backs, waiting until the last moment tor the reiufurcenients to arrive. Every few minutes a man would appear out of the darkness, and silently take his place in the group. Ha greetings were given; only one tall horseman, on a power ful roau, rode quietly troin man to man, saying a word .to each. This was Mike Alison, the desperado and veteran Indiau fighter, who, in right of his reputation for a cool head and determined courage, was tacitly accepted by every one as captain. Suddenly the silence was broken by his deep voice echoiug among the rocks of the canon. "Well, boya, I guess we won't wait any longer. We must get to the Injuns' camp before the moon rises, or they'll spot us like so many sheep, I haven't much to say. You all know what yew air in fur, I sup pose. You all know that the odds against us will be ten to one, as 1 i>'Jieve the In juns number about two hundred, mebbe more." He paused a moment, and then said, with a perceptible ..(Tort, in a lower voice, "There are some very youm; lads among yer, as will hey many friends mourniu' for 'em it they get killed ; an' I say ter those lads—gohome while yer hey time, uud leave them to do the business as has no 000 to care a cuss whether tdey live or die." He paused again No one stitred, but come ot tho " young lads " grunted rather contemptuously, "Wo one goin'?" he resumed. "Well then, boya, let's be off; don't make more noise than you can holp. Keep y€r oy«s on me, and stop when I give the word, now Vamos!" So we started on our errand of revenge. Little did the trembling women, crouched in ' the tents of the Indians, think that succour was co nigh. Still Icbs did thoir cruel captors dream of the awful vengeance that was to overtake them so soeodily, as they sat drink ing the white man's whisky. | Meanwhile nearer and nearer draw the i little band, small in number but terrible in ! tliejr stern determination to rescue the women or die. An hour's silent ride over the desolate prairie, or under th« frowning rocks or pine trees of the mini. Then a sudden halt. Mo voice now echoes among tbe rocks, but a stern whisper passed from man to man, "We are close to the camp. The fir«t fifteen men follow Mike round to th» opposite side of the camp and charge in. I The rest dismount and creep forward from different points until they come in sight of the fires, then crouch, down with cocked rifles until mike gives the signal. Then shoot every redskin that ruus out. After second volley make for the tents where tne women are. Fight to the death—give no quarter," I was one of the last, so silently slipping from my saddle, witb my bridle over my arm, I crept softly on until a red glare shone through the bushes in front of me, and I knew l must go no further, but crouch -and wait. I knelt behind a rock, with cocked pi«tul and unsheathed knife. Waiting, waiting, for the signal to begin. Ah I how terrible it was, this suspense. One seemed to live a whole life-time in those awful few minutes. I could hear the weird songs of the half-tip«y Indians, mingled with yella and curses, as it they were quarrtlliog over their booty. What was that? The signal? Aye, thore it i«. A long, shrill whistle. Then tho thunder of horses' feet. A wild, hoarse howl of surprise and dismay, answered by a relentless volley from tho repeating rifles. In a moment more, Induns were flying oat of the brushwood on every side. I stood np and fu od my pistol, right and left, with deadly effect. I reloaded, and again i emptied it. Then remembering tbe order to remount after the second volley and make for the tents where the women would be, I looked round for my horse, expecting to find it gone. No, there he stood, close by, snorting fiercely, with dilated nostrils; vo der his tec the mangled body of an Indian. A moment more, and I was galloping to wards the spot from wnich came the indes cribable roar of conflict. At first high rocks ! intervened betweea myself and the scene of battle, but suddenly it all broke upon my view. I palled «p for a >ceond to get a clear idea of the boft place to strike for. I was at tne end of a large open space. Id all directions were the camp-fire* of the Indians, but my eyea were fixed npon one spot, where there was a straggling msiss of fignres, in the midst of which rose the white ten**. Not a moment did I hesitate. nitfjving my spurs into my hone's sides, Wii'' . shout I charged funoußly at the thick mass of Indians surronnding our little band. Tne straggle was frightful, and victory seemed more than doubtful. Most of tho Indians, utterly surprised, and not knowing how small a nnmber they had to contend with, had decamped at t!ie first shock, but GO or 70 rallied, got their anna, and being for the greater part tipsy, fought like in carnate fiends. Those of our men who had rifles had dismounted, and taking their stand in front of the women's tents, ponied deadly and unceasing fire upon the foe. We who had only pistols remained ou horseback, and dashed hither and thither, shooting right and left, our horses entering into the spirit of tho fray as much as their riders. Backwards and forwards surged the battle. Now it seemed as if the Indians must conquer; they swarmed on every side, their war-whoops filled the air. But just when it seemed almost vain to straggle further, a stalwart figure on a powerful roan horse darted inti the centre of the mass of foes. Everything gave way before his charge. His stentorian " Mike Alison to the rescue I gi»« it to 'em, boys," ran* out above the yells of the Indians, and again the white mer rallied, and the red skins were driven back. How long this lasted I cannot say. Tho terrible strain and exertion began to fatiauc me fearfully. My horse had apparently carried me from the thick of the fight, and was still standing panting heavily. Suddenly he started and gave a feeble shy. From tho bullies in front of me brokn three Indians, who, as soon as they caught sisht of me, made a simultaneous attack. I had one shot left in my pistol, and contrived to shoot the fore most Indian before they quite reached me. Then, indeed, it seemci as if my time had come. Utterly exhausted, with only a knife, how could I hope to grapple success fully with two powerful foes ? They came on, one at each side, both armed with knives. Making a last desperate effort, I drove my knife into the breast of tho ono on my left hand. At tho samo moment I felt the knife ot my other ontagonist cut through coat, waistcoat, and shirt-surely it would reach my heart ? No. Tho blade was turned too much outwards, and cutting

a slight gash, it went <U'f ply into the leather of my saddle. Still I w at,' not out of danger, I had not strength enongh left to tear my knife from the man I bad Htai'hed, and my living foe was fresh and vigorous. But he had another enemy whotu he had not counted upon, Suddenly I saw his face contract with agony; some unseen force was dragging him downwards. He disappeared. 1 felt my horse rear. I heard a dull crushing sound, a deep groan, and all was still. I was safe, my life was preserved by my horse, who had seized the Indian with his teeth, by the middle of his back, thrown him down, aud trampled on him. For the next few minutes I remained almost stupe fied with fatigue upon my horse's back. From this state I was aroused by the gruff voice ot Mike Alison — " Well, Pat, co you're alive still, are you? It has been a lively time, hasn't It ? Much hurt ?" I looked up at him, wondering at the coolness of bis tane and manner. His face look-d Khastly by the light of the moon, now at its brightest, and one arm hung, evidently broken, at his side. Bat he was a« cool and unconcerned as if he had been merely driving cattle for an evening's amuse ment. "Oh! Mike," I exclaimed, "is it over yet ? Have we beaten them ? Are the women safe? Have " '' Btop," interrupted Mike, " one thing at a time. Yes, it is over, for the presenf anyhow ; and what redskins are left alive are makin' tracks for their reservations a deal .'aster than they came out o' them, I guess. Yes, the women are safe, lad, thank God. But get off yer horse and lny down fur a spell, you need the rest, and I'll tell yon all about it. You see, wben we left you behind to watch fur the skunks as they ran from the firat shock of our oharge, we w«ut round to the opposite side of the canon, where there is space fur fifteen or twenty men to rido in abreast. But before we went for 'em, I scouted round till I spo'ted the tents where I knew the women would be, I was in an almighty scare lest they might be hurt before we reached them. But I found it all quiet. The Indians had not finished the whisky yet. Then I crept back to the boys, mounted, gave the whistle —which I dessay you heard-and we piled in." I "I, Tom Stockton, and Luke Remington 1 struck a bee-line for the tents,, the boys fol lowing. I got to 'era first, and throwin' open the flap of the biggest one, I shouted to the women inside that we had come to save them, but they must keep quite still, and on no account come out. ','But, Lord bless you ! the poor critters could no more keep in than fly. I'm a hard cuss, Pat, there ain't many mean things I haven't done, but it a'most brought tears iuto my eyes to see the joy with which we were welcomed. And that fool Lnke fairly blubbered. Some on 'em threw their arms round us ami hugged us, some fell on their knees and prayed God to bless us. I saw more grati tude in those five minutes than I ever saw before in my life. Certainly, nothin' could lnve better fitted the boys for the struggle that was to come than that. We bundled them in in a minute, however, and only just in time, too, for in half a jif on the devils came. "Ayl it was a rough time. But ye see the Indians were taken completely by sur prise, and were shot from so many ilifi' rent directions at once that far all they knew we might be 150 strong, instead of only 25, and most of 'em struck south ntrnklit away. But those that stayed fought like demons, and I guess not many ot the hoys hey got off as easily as you an' me. M<ire'n once I thought it was all up, , but we tired 'em out at last. "But let's come and lend the women a hand with the wounded, and mebbe they may have tirau to bind up my arm a bit. It does hurt considerable. I suppose it'll hey to c >me off, worse luck." We walked slowly towards a little group of pines, in the midst ot which was a patch of open ground converted, for the time being, into a field hospital. There were the women, alive und well, thank God, doing what they could to relieve the wounded men, who were heroically making light nf their Bufferings, or bearing them In grim silence. Dearly did we pay for our revenae, successful thouph it wa». Ken nitn killed outright,' five [aied before morn ing, six were disabled so seriously that they were never again fit for active service. Only four, among whom was myself, really recovered the effects of that terrible Mew Year's Daj. But an awful vengeance wai wrought upon the Indians. During the ensuing week, the stockmen came down from the north and scoured the country far and wide, up to the very verge of the Indian territory, and it was calculated that only one of the ferocious band that had for so long been the terror of the country-side reached the reservations alive.—A. H. Paterson, in " Macmillan'a Magazine "for ApriL

Electric Railroad in London.

Ax underground electric railroad is to be constructed in London, It is to ran from the top of Northumberland avenue, opposite the Grand Hotel at Charing Cross, to the Waterloo station of the Lomlim and Southwestern Railway. The approach at either end will be by a short flight of step 3, and the lines will pass under Northumberland avenue, the Thames em bankment, bencith the Thames, College street mill Vine-street, to the flight of steps leading to the Waterloo platforms. The interior of the tunnel is to be lined with white brick?, and the stcolraiis used will be laid npon continuous longitudinal sleepers of timber imbedded in the concrete floors, so that there will be no ballast or other moist substance to product damp or smell, 'ihc carriages will be run separately, and will b» lighter than ordinary carriages. They will be con structed of steel and wood, without any cloth or leather lining. The centre of the carriages will be occupied by the dynamo, and uuoli end will be devoted to passengers, one compartment being for first and the other for second class. One carriage will follow another at frequent interval*, bat it is said that each will be nnder the most perfect control and capable of being stopped witb the samo caso as an ordinary omnibus. The speed will be limited to eleven miles per hour, which would require three and a half minutes for the entire journey, and the carriages could be started as quickly as they could be filled. The line is to be double^ und by means oi a traversing table beyond the end of'each platform a constant circulation of vehicles may be kept up along one line, and back by the other. All these movements will be effected by electricity under the control of the driver of the car riage. Brides thofrocdomoi the tunnel from coxioui vapours,the advantages claimed are the saving in weight to be carried, owing to the lightness of carriages and the absence of locomotives; diminution of Btrain upon the permanent way, over which travelling will be much smoother and easier than on an ordinary railway; absence of delay to the passengers ; perfect control over the car riages and very economical working, for the powc will bo obtained from fixed compound engines working expansively with hiph pressuro steam, und the non-paying weight to bo carried would be very small.

ODDS AND ENDS.

—<:-:) — "Bi/'on will tell," so be careful how yon make codihmts of your relations. "Why, Ten ! ano'herholiday?" "Yes, papa. That's the reason I go to that school." Jack: " I s=y, Bill, Jim* took for steal ing a horse.''—Bill i "Serve him right. Why didn't he buy one and get county* courted 1 You never has to pay I" Life is like a pick of cards. Childhood's best carrle li>e hearts; youth is won by d'amoiida; midd'e age is conquered by a club; while old age is raked in by a spade. A pun and it- reßOgnitory laugh mustbe iDS'antnni'ou-. The one is the brisk lightning, the other the fierce thunder. A moment's ititorval, aud the link is snapped. '■ Tt is hardly probable that there are any telephones in Heaven. And yet every angel will tie iccngnisable by his halo. H'nv tik Chimkse Manage theik DKITIIss.-f.fier a long period of wet weather, when they have prayed vainly for relief, they put the g»ds iv the rain to ree bow they line it. " What will be the best method of saving this small boor from depredation J" said a gentleman to Ilia butler. " Placing a cask of strong beer by the side of it," replied the butler. The epitaph of Fred Flatcatcher :— lie- lived a life of glorious ease; Ne'er soiled his hands by labour; And soldora prayed upon hia knees, But often on his neighbour. Squire : " Now, boys, what iB the gender of egg» I" Sharp lad (whose mother keeps chickens) : "Please, sir, you can't tell till it's hatched." " Whut'ti the difference," asked a teacher in arithmetic, " between ono jard and two yards?" "A fence," was tue reply of a member of the class. The toacher was silent. " My son," said a doting mother to her eight-year-old, " what pleasure do you feel liicn giving up during the Lenten season ? "Well, m», I guess I stay away from school," was the reply. A Sunday school superintendent recently found the followine sentiment chalked on his blackboard : "Plees Mr Superintendent don't fire otf stories every Sunday at us boys, with an awful example of a bad boy in each of them, (iive us a rest. Give the girla a turn." On seeing "Milton, Livery Stable Keeper," written over a mews, Hook com. posed the following impromptu lines :— " Two Mlltons in soparate aROS wore bora, __ The cleverer Milton 'tig ■ clear ■we have! got; Though the othor had talonta, the world to Thisii°™' by hia Mews, which the other oouia not 1" An aeed divine had occußionally to avail himsclt oi the assistance of probationers. Ono day a young man, very vain of his accomplishments as a preacher, othciated, and ou descending from the desk was met by the old gentleman with extended handa; and expecting high praise, he said, Mo compliments, J pray." "Na, na, na, my young friend," suid the parson; nowa days I'm glad o' onybody." ASOUTHCAUOLmTTmBUTKTODE ! Here lies the boddy of Robert Gordln, i Month almighty and tooth acjordtn, Stranger, troad Uuhtly over tliia wo"*"*, d It ho opens hlB mouth you are gone, by thunder. Someone remarks that I" solitude is well I enough until you want to borrow some thing." Aa if that were not the very time when loan-llness is most desirable. A question for lawyera-lf a flea bites ft dog, and bo enragoi the animal that tnu dog bites a mao, can the flea be indicted as an accessory before the fact ? Proposing a remedy tor mosquitoes, the "Haminonton Hornet" says: —"Place a small piece of raw moat on a plate In your sleeping-room, and the ' birds will light on it and never fly way." Commenting on which, the "Caoiden Poet" remarks: "Our 'birds' would fly away with the meat, plate and all." A missionary who wore spectacles and a belltopper was trying to convert a native in some outlandish place. The missionary was expatiating on the tv.oliohnes* of idol worshipping, and said, "Now you could cut down tbat palm tree, make a club of I part of it, and kill ma with it. Then you could make a fira of another part and ioast me and tat me, and then you could go and worship tbe remainder ot the tree as a god. "So I could," said the native, "I never thought of it before ; J!ll_ do il nt once -1—.... ■■ I Oh barber, spare thin, young moustache. Touch not a single hiilr— Your razor, brush and trash Must nover venture there. At lft»t tho bud has buretod out. By muoh cart-ssing taugnt Itfa frail young tendrils how they gprOUt, Then, barber, touch it not. ThO"Kh well laid out, and wide tho fleia. Whence this young mouatache shoots- This sickly soil no more can yiold.l Oh, then, guard well its roots. For should thy murd'rous blade sweep 0 er That lip's soft, downy mist, The tender plants would bloom no more— Then, barber, oh ! desist! Young Mr Latchours was sitting on the porch the othor night watching a seven teen-year-old girl trying to keep awake long enough to see the morning star rise. They talked astronomy. " I wish I was a ftar," be said, ami line at his own pootic fancy. " I would rather you were a comet," she said dreamily. His heart beat tumnl tuously. " Aud why ?" he asked tenderly, at tne same time taking her unresisting little hands iv his own; "and why?"ho repeated imperiously. "Oh," she said, with a brooding earnestness that fell upon his soul like a bare foot on a cold oilcloth, " because then you would only come round once every fifteen hundred years." Mr Latehours gave the Rate a quite nnnecas vary slam as he left, A urrLs Dissertation on Kissing.— the first nddity that comes in my way is a remark by someone that " kisacs are like creation, because they arc made of nothing, and thoy are very good"—a very sensible remark, by the way; and the next is the definition of a " buss." Thus, buss, to kiss; rebr.HH, to kiss again; pluribuss, to kiss without regard to sex; eillybus, to kiss the band instead of the lip ; blunder buss, to ki<B the wrong person ; omnibus, to kiss all the persons in the room; erebus, to kias in the dark. Evidently the country fiirl who came to ••■town" had theso definitions in her head. A young gentleman was to escort her a mile or two, and not wishing to walk, remarked, "Mary, let's take a "bus.'" But Mary, blushing to the eyebrows, drew back, and with wounded modesty, replied, "Oh, George ! not right here in the street I" KMANcI ATION.J Sho dwolt within unyioldlng stays That kept her bolt upright— A nymph whose waist won doubtful praise, ' Sho laced so vory tight, A maiden by a kirtlo dun. Half hiddon from tho eye, --• A single skirt—when only one. Was worn by low and high 1 i' Sho burat her bonds at laat, aud now :', J with perfect ease can stir! She wears " Divided skirts," and, Oh I —~ Tub dill'oronoe to her 1

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, JUNE 16, ißas.

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