FOR THE LADIES.

HIS PRAYER.

God keep you safe, my little love. All through the night. Eest close in His encircling arms

Until the light, My heart is with you as I kneel to pray: Good-night; God keep you in His care alway.

Thick shadows creep like silent ghosts About my head; I lose myself in tender dreams; While overhead The moon comes stealing through the window bars, A silver sickle gleaming 'mid the stars.

For I, though I am far away. Feel safe and strong To trust you thus, dear love—and yet— The ni(.ht is lone; I say with sobbing breath the old fond prayer, Good-night! Sweet dreams! God keep you everywhere.

THE MODERN TANTALUS.

He discourses on astronomy with the very best, intention, And discloses many matters I've not previ ously known; But for some especial reason, I am not inclined to mention. I should much prefer the garden with_J__»±"""-^ all alone. _~-■ T . iQ WJ _ u^-»_-T-n-_ffrTcr_3iow about theee sub fW9™lects; the propriety -_■-. Of telling which is* Saturn and the distunce to the moon ; Is obvious: it gives a certain standing in society; But somehow on this evening I've a great desire to spoon.

The balmy air is odorous with perfume of the Sowers, And the moonlight on the terrace is most beautiful to see; The Professor is ezoited, and I know he'll talk for hours, While ___t__-'s in the Harden. I suppose ex pecting me.

O moon! O stars! O milky way! I care not for yofx density ; Youi perigee and apogee possess no charms forme. Look down, look down in pity from your silent, ■vast Immensity, And I'll study you more fully when I've (ju-ndsons on my knee.

OH WHEN?

BY MRS M. X. KIDDER. " Oi! when will the veil be removed '/hat hides my Redeemer from meT " Ocar saint, in the fulness of time Shall the Lord be revealed unto thee. 7f, bearing life's burdens and cares. It, flying from error and sin. You are faithful and true to the end. Yon shall surely the victory win." " Oh! when, shall I see the dear friends That bade me farewell on death's shore " " Dear saint, you may meet them in heaven, Your loved ones to part never more. In garments as white as the snow. In crowns shining bright as the sun; You may sing the sweet song of the Lamb,

Your cares and your labours all done.' Oh. come, blessed angels, then come. And boar me away to the skies; Let me leave this cold world far behind, For my mansion in bright paradise!

Queen Victoria is a good judge of lace. Dissatisfied blondes never say die; they do it.

George Eliot said that half the women of England die prematurely for the want of an aim in life.

Worth, the great dressmaker of Paris, has a daughter who is about to marry a son of Delbalke, a millionaire tailor, who has a shop on the Bois de Boulogne.

Little washtubs of plain pine, with brass rings, and a broad satin ribbon tied in one handle, are filled with cut flowers and sect to young ladies. This fancy finds great favour in fashionable circles.

A young lady in Jersey City has taught her parrot to utter the sound of a kiss when her bashful lover calls. The young man is now learning to imitate the parrot.

Mrs Emilia Rawle, a young widow of Philadelphia, intends giving a ball this coming winter, at which no ladies but widows 30 years of age, or under, will be invited. The buds and roses of the Quaker City are up in arms, and threaten to ostra cize all the young men who attend the widow's ball.

Future Styles—Tight Lacing.

We are threatened with a return to the bygone and reprehensible fashion of tight lacing. There will be almost as much vio lation of taste and common sense in dress in the near future as was ever perpetrated in the days of wasp waists. The costly velvets, plushes, and brocades are to be made up with long, tight bodices, peaked front and back, small in the waist and loose in the armhole. The hideousbustle, thehigh- Bhouldered sleeves and voluminous skirt are the striking features of the new styles forming the dreadful caricaturing outlines of the new dresses sent out for American women from first-class Paris makers. The train appears again for full-dress occasions, Heaven holp us ! and a woman in a very fashionable toilet of high oeremony is arbi trarily obliged to carry an amount of dry goods of such weight as must make her feel like an overladen pack donkey. Think of eating or dancing, or walking, or oven Bitting in a dress weighing more than fifty pounds, stiffened with whalebone, tight in the waist and armholes, open in the neck, back and front, and extending to enormous proportions in the back. The doctors will have-many interesting cases of spinal dis eases between now and the time the cholera comes over to finish killing us.— Clara Belle, in " Cincinnati Enquirer."

Oscar Wilde on Woman's Dress.

_Mr Oscar Wilde, who asks us to permit him " that most charming of all pleasures, the pleasure of answering one's critics," fiends us the following.—

" The ' Girl Graduate' must of course have precedence, ndt merely for her sex, but for her sanity ; her letter is extremely sensible. She makes two points : that high heels are a necessity for any lady who wishes to keep her dress clean from the Stygian mud of our streets, and that with out a tight corset ' the ordinary number o? petticoats and etceteras' cannot be pro perly or conveniently held up. "Now, it is quite true that as long as the lower garments are suspended from the hips a corset is an absolute necessity; the mis take lies in not suspending all apparel from the shoulders. In the latter case a corset becomes useless, the body is left free and uneonfined for respiration and motion, there is more health, and consequently more beauty. Indeed, all the most ungainly and nncomfortable articles of dress that Fashion has ever in her folly prescribed, not the tight corset merely, but the farthingale,, the vertugadin, the hoop, the crinoline, and that modern monstrosity, the so-called 'dress improver,' also, all of them have owed their, origin to the same error, the error of not seeing that it is from the shoulders, and from the shoulders only, that all garments should be hung. " And as regards high heels, I quite admit that some, additional height to the shoe or boot is necessary if long gowns are to be wojti in the street; but what I object to is that the height should be given to the heel only, ahd not to the sole of the foot also. The modern high-heeled. boot -is, in fact, merely the clog of, the time of Henry "VI., with the front prop left out, and its inevitable effect Is to throw the body for-, ward, to shorten the steps, and consequently to produce that want of grace which always/ follows want of freedom. •

" Why should clogs be despised 1 Much art has been expended on clogs. They have been made of lovely woods, and deli cately inlaid with ivory and mother-of pearl. A clog might be a dream of beauty, and if not too high or too heavy, most comfortable also.

*' But if there be any who do not like clogs, let them try some adaptation of the trotter of the Turkish lady, which is loose around the limbs and tight at the ankle. The " Girl Graduate," with a pathos to which I am not in sensible, entreats me not to apotheosize ' that awful, befringed, beflounced, and bekilted divided skirt.' Well, I wili acknowledge that the fringes, tho flounces, and the kilting do certainly defeat the whole object of the dress, which is that of ease and liberty ; but I regard these things as mere wicked superfluities, tragic proofs that the divided skirt is ashamed of its own division. The principle of the dress is good, and, though it is not by any means perfection, it is a step toward it."—" Pall Mall Gazette."

Hiring a Cook.

About nooa.yjz&r*? I' »ft arfamdy man jjjjpi^-OTn lourteenth street toward _*ixtn Avenue in a state of considerable mental excitement.

" Those infernal servants of mine are bothering me again," he explained hotly, " and I'm going to fix things up this very morning. I know a capable girl when I see her, and my wife doesn't. That's the difference. Hitherto my wife has done the hiring, but now I propose to take a hand. Come down and see me hire a cook."

When we rushed into the office five minutes later, the solemn woman at the desk did not look up, but the two rows ot domestics turned forty or fifty heads toward us with more or less interest.

" I want a cook," said my friend sharply, " a good plain cook." The womanat the desk continued to write without even looking at us. I sat down on the window sill and tried to figure out the percentage of American faces in the two long rows, while the man who wanted a cook stormed up and down, ex plaining his views to the solemn woman in black. She did not notice. After a tedious wait she folded her letter, sealed it, and put in the mail box. Then she wiped her pen carefully on an old rag, and put it in the drawer. After examining her nails casually she rang a bell and said, " Twenty-seven" sharply. A paper lay on the desk. She took it up, opened it calmly, and, turning her back, began to read with entire absorption..

"Twenty-seven " wore a jersey, a sneer, a pair of lace gloves, and a mouthful of variegated and full-sized teeth. She walked forward, planted herself before my friend, and said, before he had time to speak : " House or flat?" "Hu—ho—flat." "Boarders?" " No. I want—" " Children ?" " Two ; my—" - " How manny in th' fammerly ♦" "Six. But see here " " Up town?" " N—no." " What d' y' pay ?" "Eighteen dollars." " Pah !"

With which the cook turned on her heel with withering contempt, and the Man Who Wanted a Cook and I went meekly forth. As I glanced back I thought I saw a furtive smile lurking about the corners of the mouth of the solemn woman in black.

A Dissertation on Marriage.

To young people who contemplate marry ing we specially, address ourselves. Much has been written and spoken upon this sub ject ; much remains to be said. Advice has been profuse, ill-timed and contradictory. Some would have you select as partners for life persons of opposite temperaments—the phlegmatic, the nervous, and the despon dent, the sanguine.. Others, with equal apparent interest in you, have chosen com panions for you with dispositions similar to you own.

Marriage is a lottery—it is the few who draw prizes. This is not because of their scarcity, but on account of inahility to make the proper selection. There are many causes operating to deceive in regard to the value of each prize—chief among which is a natural depravity that induces every candidate for matrimony to try to appear better than he or she really is. For every person—making proper allowance for the disparity in number of the sexes—there is some other person of the opposite sex who would make a congenial companion, a fitting counterpart, a helpmeet, if these two could be brought together. Young people "fall in love" without thinking of the consequences. They are captivated by a pretty face or a handsome form, and give way to the desire for pos sessing it until that desire becomes an over mastering passion, which generally cul minates in marriage. They do not con sider that this beautiful face or form may be altogether unsuitable to them; that while with them it is a passion it may be only a convenience for the other.

Marriage is the natural state of man, but he who is intending,to marry should "look before he leaps." He should see to it that the_ woman ot his choice is adapted to the Eosition which he expects her to occupy as _is wife. If she moved in a higher station in life than he can place her the chances are she will become dissatisfied with her lot in the lower level. If, on the other hand, she_ is not suited by birth or education for a high position such as he holds or expects to reach, though she possess the beauty of a peri, yet would her ignorance be a con tinual " stumbling-stone and rock of of fence."

In discussing the subject of marriage, how much better it would be if both lovers confessed their faults and ignorance of the various duties of housekeeping and business rather than try to conceal them and to make the impression that they are well acquainted with all the duties of the parts they are expected to perform. Such a coarse might prevent a few marriages, but it would also avert much after trouble.— "Hearth and Home."

A Polite Qualification.

He was polite, but diffident, and had got entangled in conversation with a couple of young ladies, and was struggling along the best he could They were discussing the merits of different actresses.

"Y-yes," be said, "Mme. B is cer tainly a very c-clever actress, but I—l think she is one of the p-plainest women I ever saw. That is," he added, politely, under the vague impression that some qualification should be introduced here, "J —er—mean, of course, present company al way& c*_c*.pted."

How Eugenic Met Napoleon.

It, was at a ball given by President Napo leon atthe Ely see, some nights before the coup d'etat,,that Mdlle. Eugenic met, her future husband. A romance is connected with this meeting. Wishing to avoid-the crowded ball rooms, Louis Napoleon, with the Duke of La Moskowa, went into the Elysee , gardens, where he suddenly came upon a radiant, blushing girl. She was tying up her hair, alone, opposite a glass in the conservatory.- Her hair had come down during a waltz, and the crowd

was too great to admit of her reaching the ladies' dreseing-rsom. She had glided to this place, hoping to be unobserved. This little circumstance of the fall of her back hair led to her subsequent elevation to one of the proudest positions ever occupied by a woman.—"Munseg's Weekly."

Defending Women.

I hold it to be a truth constantly self evident that every man will defend a woman against all men except himself. If you have not noticed it already you have only to look for it an hour or so in any place of mixture of the sexes. Clap your eyes on a pretty woman without male escort, and two pheno mena will become obvious. Firstly, there will be a large amount of open and. covert staring at her, to all of which her oblivious ness is of course only assumed. Secondly, if one of the starers happens to realise that others are at the same game, he will mani-. fest plainly his disgust at such treatmenrof an unprotected beauty, utterly ignoring his own often*——*x*"*Bbanr} ahrf ■"•rlfe got into __-_-T_e.car.|The woman was under 20, and as pretty as nature and art are in the habit of combining to produce. They were chat ting on the very subject that I have intro duced.

" Pereival, dear," said she, " I will prove to you that 1 am right, and take only ten minutes to do it, if you will promise not to get angry about it." He closed the contract. Then she drew herself up as though the husband sitting beside her was an entire stranger, and waited for the car to fill with passengers at Union Square. " Now," she whispered behind her fan, " observe how I am ogled when alone." Within five minutes he saw that half a dozen masculine passengers, from hoary age to callow youth, eyed nis bride with more or less audacity, and several manifestly would not have needed the smallest beginning of a wink on her part to seize upon her then and there. That Dart of the exhibition was a triumph for the wife, but the most curious feature of her experi ment remained to be tried.

"You certainly do seem to attract a great deal of admiration," said the husband, sup posing that the pretended strangeness was at an end.

She lifted her eyebrows in simulated sur prise, as though an impertinent fellow had unwarrantably accosted her, and pointedly turned her face away from him. He under stood her now, and did not speak to her fur ther. Next she drew her shoulder away from contact with bis. By this time the spectators were believing that he was an noying her dreadfully, and scornful glances were aimed at him. Her final trick was conclusive. It consisted in suddenly pull ing her skirts clear of his trousers, and de liberately settling her feet as far in the other direction as the end of the car would permit. Nobody doubted that the dear de mure creature had been grossly insulted. A man arose from the opposite side. "Will you exchange seats with me ?" he very gal lantly and politely said, lifting his hat very deferentially.

Now, he had been foremost among the original oglers — the veriest simpleton among them all.

"Thank you, sir," she replied, as bland as a white heifer, " but I prefer to sit be side my husband."

Thus with the same stone she killed that vulture-bird and dove-mate whom she had undertaken to instruct as to the philosophy of male gallantry.

A Woman's Hair.

Mrs Bladen, writing in "Taggart's Sun day Times," says that when a woman is overheated and tired, " fixing her hair," which means letting it fall loose, combing and rearranging it, is a more refreshing process than even bathing the face. When the hair is let down, some sort of interior weight seems to pass off from the head. What is strange, however, is that when made smooth and twisted, and again fastened tightly, there is still greater sen sation of clearness and freedom inside the brain. It is an illustration of blowing hot and cold with the same breath—that is to say, two opposite processes produce a smaller result. Here is an experiment the fair reader may try for herself. If she takes down her hair and lets it fall about her shoulders, tho first sensation is that of coolness, but if allowed to hang loose, the heat of the head increases very rapidly, and the tighter the hair is twisted or plaited, the sooner this heat is relieved. If a woman's hair is free from oils or pomades, and she combs it on a wihter's night with a rubber comber, electric sparks will fly out, and a cracking sound be emitted. If, with the hair.hanging in this condition, she stands on a chair, the four legs of which are placed in ordinary glass tumblers, and points her finger at a gas burner, she can light the gas with her touch. There will be a slight report and a sharp tingling sensation in the end of the finger from which the electric spark passes. Now, if her hair is dressed—that is to say, smoothed with oils or pomades and tightly twisted—she cannot light the gas by point ing the tip of her finger at it unless the electricity of her system is excited by friction. If she wears a silk dress, and has it rubbed with a fur muff, she can accom plish the feat, which would be a great saving of matches, but at the expense of a great deal of trouble.

The mysteries of Dress.

The mysteries of dress seem to be an ex ceedingly attractive theme, if we may judge by the number of letters which have been received on the subject. Among others, "An Old Sailor" sends the following vigor ous protest:—" Hasit occurred to your read ers that there is any impropriety, not to say indelicacy, in discussing the arrangement of women's petticoats in the public press * In the days of my youth we were taught to re gard woman|s dress as a sacred mystery; and so it ought to be to the opposite sex. For Heaven's sake, sir, let them wear as many or as tew petticoats as they please, and let them be of whatever shape and texture suits their fancy and convenience ; let tbem_ hang "them to their shoulders or their waists, whichever they find most com fortable, and let them do so with strings, suspenders, buttons, hooks and eyes, orpaste and sealing-wax it they like it; but int he name of modesty, let them doit in private, in their own rooms and not in public. We do not want to know how their lower rig ging is placed and set up; that surely is their own business, and the discussion of it by men in the public press is disrespectful and impertinent. This, sir, is the opinion of one who has a profound respect for the ladies, and who neither wishes to see their petticoats dragged through the mud or triced up higher than our mothers wore theirs ;. but who thinks that they are quite capable of looking after their own business and dressing themselves without assistance from us."—" Pall Mall Gazette."

'•Jane, I hear your beau" is a little, wild; not very steady, they say." "Oh, yes he is; he is one of the most steady young men lever saw." "Steady ( Oh, ho he can't ■be. : I've heard he was everything but steady." " Well, he is just steady. He has always come to the house every even ing since we were first engaged, drunk or sober." -

FUN.

A good four-in-hand—Four aces. Too thin—The average ballet girl. Lost arts—The missing picnic pies. Ardent reformers —Women who pad. Perfectly shocking—An earthquake. Noah was the architect of his own fortune. When ignorance is bliss it ie folly to ask the landlady what she puts in the hash. The sot, taking yet another glass, is an illustration of the text—the spirit swilling but the flesh is weak.

"■ Why dp they always call young lawyers 'limbs of®ie law,' pa?" "Oh, I suppose it's because they're always broke."

A Parisian author has translated Shak spere's line: " Out, brief candle !" into French thus : " Get out, short candle !"

We read an item about a milkman getting fifty quarts of milk from one cow in one day. All wo can say is that he must have a mighty deep well.

We have heard of killing two birds with one stone, but is that as bad as killing a lot of people with one's tone? We ask this question of our vocalists.

Don Piatt says: "Musicians are not made, they are born." This is no doubt true, but it is also a fact that a good deal of suffering is borne by their hearers. A Congressman shouted in his speech: "We must return to the food of our fathers. And what was it, I ask?" A deep voice across the hall replied : " Thistles."

"My son, never steal. If it becomes necessary for you to take the money of others, do it with a magnitude that will command their admiration and respect." "Shall I sing 'Far Away' ?" she asked, as her fingers sought the keys. "Yes, I think you had better," he replied, " unless you want the neighbours to make a com plaint." He doesn't visit there now.

A New York physician says that a baby must not be allowed to sleep with its mother. If he means by this that the baby should sleep with the father, he will incur the undying hatred of all married men.

"If a baby cries," says an exchange, "warm its feet before you dose it." It is nothing new, we understand, to warm a baby when it cries; but unfortunately, parents do not usually confine the operation to the little one's feet.

In a railway carriage.—An old soldier, noticing that his pipe troubled a lady, said to her: "They don't smoke in your regi ment, ma'am?" "In my regiment, it is possible," replied the lady, "but in my company, never!"

Mistress.—" I really cannot put up with your voracious appetite any longer, James. Why, even the beasts of the field know when they've had enough ; but you never do." James—" Please, 'ro, you never tried me."

"Dumley," said a friend, admiringly, "I believe you are a man to die with your boots on." "Yes?" replied Dumley, straightening himself and trying hard not to appear too dare-devilish, "and why do you think so?" "Because you so rarely take them off when you go to bed." "That lady is handsome, but she looks as if she had a temper of her own," re marked one drummer to another on the tain the other day, You bet! You read character correctly," was the reply. " Why, you speak as if you were acquainted with her!" " Well, I am, slightly. I married her some ten years ago, and have been studying her-ever since." First Citizen—"ls it true about the sudden death of young Snooks ?" Second Citizen—"Yes." First Citizen—"Too much liquor, wasn't it!"' Second Citizen— "No, too much water." First Citizen— " How so ? " Second Citizen—" He drowned himself while intoxicated."—"Burlington Free Press."

A tramp got into an East End woman's kitchen last, week, and the cook tackled him and drove him out. Her mistress heard of it, and interviewed her on the subject. "I un derstand, Bridget, that you had a caller," she jocularly began. " Faith, and Oi did, mem." "Did you show him much atten tion?" "Be jabers, Oi showed him the dure." "Did he take the hint?" "No, mem; he tuck a cheer." " What, did you do then ?" "Oi oorged him to lave, mem." " Oh, I see, You made a virtue of neces sity and put him out." " Bliss your sowl, mem, no. Oi made a clob' ay the rollin' pin, an' the sphalpeen went out like a banshee was after him."

This is certainly a progressive age. Not only are the receptacles for drinks made in the form of opera-glasses, parasol handles and even prayer-books, so that bibulous ladies may indulge in a nip anywhere and at any time, but prayer-books are now made with small magnifying glasses deftly inserted in tbe covers, so that when a lady at church appears to be the most devout she may simply be taking an inventory of the various stylos of bonnets around her.

" You don't really love him, my dear ?" "Well, perhaps not; but it's my first chance, and I may never get another." '' Never mind if you don't. Wait until you find a man after your own heart." *' That's just what's the matter, mamma. Charlie has been after my heart for eighteen months, and I guess I had better let him have it."

Moses Opcnstein moved, to a Western town a dozen years ago, with a small capi tal. He prospered, and is to-day worth $50,000. Not long since a friend from the East visited him, and they were talking over his good fortune. " How is it, Moses, you have done so well V asked the friend. " Oh, dot va.h the eashiest ting to dell in the vite, . vite vorruld." How was it?" "Veil, you see, I mark mine coats plain, so dot everybody can see dey vas vort.' Now dake dot goat, for instance; dot goat cohst me yoost eight tolior, unt I put dot nice, plain mark on him—sixteen tollar; and if it cosht me tweluf tollar, I yoost mark him twenty-four tollar. I pud dose marks on, so dere ish no deceifing a gushtomer, und he can see dot he is pying his cloding ad cosht—vot_ it cosht him, you understhant. I haf peen in.peesiness twelut year, unt my boliey ish ' Quick sale unt shrnall brofits.' und I don't complain."

A Good Head for Figures.

Jarphly Brought Down to Earth.

" Sometimes as I gaze into the great star lit girdle of earth, and try to fathom the mystery of space, I am lost in the utter helplessness of littleness," remarked Mr Jarphly. " How impossible it is for the human mind to comprehend anything with out a beginning and an end ! It is beyond its capabilities, however cultivated or brilliant that mind may be. For what then are our little petty ambitions, ■ spites, malices, struggles and exertions ? For what do we exist ? For " " Got that wood chopped yet, Jeremiah ?" called out Mrs Jarphly from the kitchen. "I'm a chopping it," replied her husband. "Well, you'd better hurry—l-_Sckon if to go without-your supper you won't be wondering what you exist tor."

An Actress's Diamond Necklace.

Mr H. J. Sarjent tells the following anecdote:

" When Modjeska was employed by me, she had not enough diamonds to buy a loaf of bread with. I had to advance her the money with which to come from California, and when we began the season she was in my debt very nearly one thousand dollars. You can imagine, then, when she first played ' Camile ' at the Fifth Avenue Theatre, there were no diamonds to exhibit. But when we had played in several towns, and got through with Boston, we began to feel a little easier. I had some money in my pocket, and so had she. One day we were walking along King-street, in Montreal, and we passed a jeweller's, just next door to the theatre. In the window -ias a magnificent diamond necklace. Modjeska and I feasted our eyes on it, and then I said we might as well go in and see it. She protested, ' What is the good ?' But I said, 'It may do us good to handle it, any way.' So we went in, and asked the man in charge of the store to see the necklace in the window. He recognised us, and taking it out, said it would be just the thing for madam. We nudged each other as if it was a delicious joke. Then he told us that it had been made for Mary Anderson, but that she had never come to claim it. I thought Mary had been going it rather strong, and then asked him the price of it. 'Eight pounds,' said he — ' forty dollars.' We were both astonished. 'I'll give you thirty-five dollars for it,' said I; and the bargain was concluded. The next day I had a box made with bands of brass, a strong padlock, and handles on both ends for two men to carry. When we got to Chicago, I put the necklace in this strong box, and one night after the performance I walked up to the office of the hotel, and had a man to lift the box on to the counter.

' Put that in the safe,' I said. They looked at the box and said they never could get a box like that into the safe. ' Well,' said I, ' you put a notice in every room that you won't beresponsiblefor valuables unless they are left in the safe; and here is Madame Modjeska's forty-thousand-dollar necklace— I want you to take charge of it.' By this time there was a crowd around the counter eying the box. The clerk did not know what to do. ' Strange,' said I, ' that the pre sent which Madame Modjeska got from the Czar of Russia can't be properly protected ! Thengettwo policemen andputthem to guard the box all night, and I'll pay them myself. The policemen were got, and they sat on either side of the box of thirty-five-dollar diamonds till twelve the next day. Nothing more was necessary for me to do. The papers were full of the Czar's forty thousand-dollar diamonds, and Modjeska's jewellery was one of the attractions of the season."—" Chicago Tribune."

Knocked Out in Two Rounds.

"I forgive you, Hetty." Thomas Turnstile turned away with a heart whose load of sorrow was almost too great to be borne, and walked slowly down the shady path which led to bis mother's humble cottage at the foot of Huckleberry Hill. And why? Because a girl—a haughty beauty whose father's wealth had placed her far above Thomas Turnstile in the social scale—had, after luring him on and on with all the arts which womed know so well, and practise so skilfully, haughtily refused the love that he offered her. She hod said the cruel words that severed their lives for ever softly enough, but on the beautiful face that had for years haunted his memory, and been the beacon star of his endeavours, there was a cold, haughty, rough-on-rats expression. And yet, des pite this fact, he loved her with a mad, consuming, chloride-of-lime-on-an-old-shirt passion that was scorching his very soul. One year has passed. On all sides one hears talk of the wonderful success that has crowned the efforts of Thomas Turnstile as a speculator. His daring operation of buy ing all the poker checks in Chicago just pre vious to the assembling of a Democratic Convention had made him a millionaire, and to none was this news of more interest than Hetty Haliowheart, the proud beauty of Horse Fly Villa. Judge of her surprise when one day there came a note from Thomas Turnstile asking permission to call on her. It was at once given, and the evening of the following day appointed for the interview. At 8. o'clock a carriage rolled up to the door, and Thomas Turnstile was ushered into the parlour, where Hetty waited to receive him. In the soft, mellow light of the 83-per-thousand gas she looked more radiantly beautiful than ever, and there was a tremulous tinge of admiration in the young man's tones as he spoke to her. " A year ago," le said, " I offered you my hand in marriage, and you refused it on account of my poverty. I am now rich, and.repeat that offer. Do you accept it ?" " I do," she answers.

"Ha! false woman,"he cries, "at last my revenge is accomplished. Know, then, that I do not lovo you, and that my only object- in coming here to-night was to humiliate you," and with a hollow, mock ing laugh he turns to go. "Stop!." says the girl in an imperious manner, and as she speaks Thomas Turn stile sees two men, one a lawyer, and the other a strenographer, come from behind a Japanese screen which stands near an Etruscan cuspidor. Hetty's face lights up with a weird, baleful smile, r

" What does this mean ?" he asks. "Why have my words been taken down?" "It means," she answers, "that you rake up 50,000 dollars for trifling with my most sacred feelings. Thomas departed a sadder and a wiser man.—"From the Chicago Tribune."

"What do you think?" said Clara; "that horrid Tom Brown proposed to me last evening. He hummed and hawed a ■ long time, but finally spunked up courage to ask for my hand." ' And what did you say, dear?" asked Delia. "Say? Why, I told him I couldn't be so cruel an to burden him with a third hand, when he didn't know what to do with the two he already had the awkward booby !" Sententious Gent.—" Depend upon it, my dear Miss Sharpe, in most cases •• igno rance is bliss."' Cruel Fair One.—"Why aren't you happier, then ?" The New Zealand Government are to re ceive all the profits of the direct service postages except the British inland post age. *■".; Cheating is to the shopkeepeer both field and plough.

THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAR, DECEMBER 24, 1884-

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