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LIGHT my pipe »t the fitful flare Of low rod em- oors that wink and blink, And settle myself in my cushioned chair To sl'.iro ot tho drowsy fire and think- To dream of a Christmas eve gone by, When hearts had passion and love was new, And stars nhono bright in youth's cloudless sUy And all lifo'H vicious wore Sweet and tvuo. Alone in the flrc-lisht—quite alone. The clock ticks on with its cloar refrain, And liifjh on tho coiling the shadows thrown Crowd llko tho phantoms that haunt my brain, ChdnKO and wavornnd fade, until Swift, suddon flumes for a moment start, And tho room is bright witU the self-sumo thrill That stirs the di'yths of my dreaming heart. How fair sho was in tho Christmas light Tlr.it swept out over tlio whirling snow, As the sleighs drow noar through tho stormy night To thu friendly threshold and ruddy glow. With smile of welcome and outstretched hand, The snow-flakes kissing her soft brown huir, In tho open door-way I saw her stand, And my heart kneeled down to her then and there. Can there ever come to this life of mine A time when the burden of days and years Shall hide and shadow this dream divine That was born in laughter and grew in tears? When I shall rem ember, no more, no more, That Christmas ovo when our eyes first met, And I envied the snow flakes drifting o'er Her silky braids where a rose was set? Wo loved, yet tho grief of parting came; Mad jealousy broke love's charmed spell! I know not now which was most to blame, Her prido or mine; but it's just as well; For we made it up and are lovers still! And I'm sitting here in the lire-light's glow "tnce she stole upstairs with some toys, to fill Throe stockings, hung in a waiting row. —Madeline S. Bridges, in Judge. •ilvet eloud, There were tears In Colonel Van Arman's eyes, and in his wito'a also, as Mordaunt went on: "He it was who taught us to lov« one another; His word is law and His Gospel is Peace. Chains shall He break; tho slave is our brother; And at His name all oppression shall cease." And so on to the end. Tho climax of the song, as written for a tenor, strikes B flat, and Mordaunt took the note superbly, as a Briffnoli or Tamagno might hrvo clone. Its beauty and tho sentiment of the exquisite hymn electrified his boaters. There were many thorn who bad heard him sing before, but they whispered to one arothor that ho had novor sung as he had to-night. "Oh, Eustace, how gloriously you sang," ejaculated Mildred, when she caught him for a moment alone. "it was all for you," he answered, passionately. "Moot mo in half an hour in tho conservatory, in tho corner by tho fountain, lhavo something to toll you, Mildred. I must—•"• At that instant Colonel Van Arman appeared. "Eustace, my boy," ho said, huskily, blowing his nose vigorously with a silk handkerchief that ho res- THE GAME-KEEPER. A Christmas Estrangement and Reconciliation. [Written for This Paper.! CHAPTER I. MAGNIFICENT Christmas eve ball was in progress at Colonel Van Arman's. It was easy for the beholder to accept as genuine tho most extravagant popular estimates of the Colonel's wealth, while looking at the splendor of the scene. Within there was a picture of light and luxury that made the old feel young again to see. Tho broad hall way with its polished floor was dotted hero and there with tired dancers whoso faces shone in the glimmer cast by the pile of blazing oak logs on the hearth. Colonel and Mrs. Van Arman, with smiles chasing themselves over their homely but genial features, stood watching tho brilliant scene. The Colonel was a self-made man, and to- "IT WAS ALT,-FOrt YOU," HE ANSWEHEJ). cued from tho capacious folds of his vest for the purpose, "you sing better and better every day." Half an hour after that Mordaunt was stealing towards tho conservatory. Another waltz was in progress and his absence from the ball-room was not noticed. He neared the appointed spot, and started back, thunderstruck with what he sa-v and heard. Mildred half stood, half knelt on a low seat by tho fountain. Her cheek was pressed close against a wall of flowers behind which, at opposi te angles, Eustace knew there was another nook, tho precise counterpart of the one she occupied. She was speaking: "My own, precious pet," he heard her murmur, in impassioned accents, "my darling old Tom! You know I love you, but you really must be quiet and run away now. For Eustace is coming, you know, and he is going to tell me he loves me, too. He must not see you, or he would be jealous." A bitter imprecation fell from the young man's lips. He could not see the other face behind tho flowers. He stood irresolute for a moment, as though in doubt whether to spring at his unknown rival's throat, but the next moment turned and with another oath left the place. CHAPTER II. During the ensuing eighteen months Mr. Eustace Mordaunt saw pretty much all of Europe. Being possessed of a | small independence, for which he was indebted to tho timely decease of a i maiden aunt, he had tho means at his that had ever been known in Arman villo. And, as he watched his dear and only daughter, Mildred, gliding by in the embrace of her almost officially- recognized lover, young Eustace Mordaunt, he folt certain that ho was the father of tho handsomest girl in the county. Most of. us, too, would have agreed with him. Mildi-ed was one of those tiny, symmetrical beauties, with ripo, coy lips, eyes tho color of ripe hazel-nuts and form that seemed to have been fashioned by fairies for the sole purpose of distracting the masculine mind. Her face was as demure as & milkmaid's, but tho glance she threw upwards into hor partner's eyes at intervals constituted excellent evidence as to the trend her affections had taken. So Colonel and Mrs. Van Arman looked on and smiled and were satisfied. As the waltz came to an end, the gilded clock on tho mantle chimed twelve. "Now Eustace," cried Mildred, "you must sine for us." "Gladly will I," responded the young man, his face flushed with love and enthusiasm. "I will sing you a Christ mas song. Colonel Van Arman, may I beg you to have the lights turned low?" At a sign from the Colonel a couple of flunkeys sprang to the doorway and the electric chandeliers were almost extinguished. Stepping forward, Mordaunt threw aside two wide portieres and the light of the midnight moon came streaming in through the windows. For the instant that he stood there, silent, as a friend struck some But continuous travel is bound to grow stale after a certain time, especially if one has a well-defined sorrow, that the flight of months can not rob of its piquancy, gnawing at his vitals; so it came to pass that the young man, as he sat, solitary, in his rooms at tho Metropole in London one gloomy October afternoon, found himself very much at a loss whore to go next. Of continuous touring he was heartily tired. A return to America was not to be thought of. As he glanced idly over the columns of the Daily Telegraph, his eye lighted upon a certain advertisement. He threw himself back in his arm-chair, gazed droam- y into the fire and said, half aloud: Why not? It would be a novelty, any way." The early afternoon of the following day found tho American alighting from a train at a little wayside station in Kent. He looked rather distinguished in a long ulster, buttoned closely up to his throat, and the station-master touched bis hat respectfully as the stranger came forward and inquired the way to the Marquis of Sansdowno's. "If you were expected at the manor, sir," he said, "there is sure to be a carriage here presently." "I'm not expected," answered Eustace, "and I'd much rather walk." He was informed as to tne way, and started off at a swinging gait. He covered the four miles in less than an hour, and duly presented himself at the big, gloomy pile of gray stone that was the home of the Marquis. The flunkey who hffl. pyofn«r tiis visitor from head to foot. "Don't bo astonished," answered tho young man, carelessly, but with respect. "It la true I am a gentleman, as you evidently perceive, but I want tho place. I must have employment. I am honest, healthy and will servo you well. I know all about grouse and pheasants, and think your lordship will find my services valuable." After further conversation, which it is unnecessary to repeat, the Marquis rose, walked into tho hall, took down a couple of brooch-loaders from a rack, handed one to Eustace, and the two walked down a pathway into the woods. When they returned Eustace was carrying four birds in a bag, cind the two looked as though they enjoyed each other's company. The head keeper, an old man of nearly seventy, was a more figuro-head, and the work foil mostly on Eustace and tho grooms, of whom there were sov- oiul. Eustace lived in tho little shooting lodfjc, nearly two milos from tho manor, in the heart of tho beoch woods. Tho members of tho shooting parties given by his lordship invariably expressed curiosity on tho subject of the now keeper. To inquiries the Marquis made answer that ho know nothing of tho young man except that ho was tho best game-keeper he ever had on his preserves. Mordaunt's manner towards tho ladies and gentlemen who visited tho manor was that of undoviating re-1 spect and courtesy. Ills breeding was apparent at a glance. The Marquis' cousin, a healthy country girl of seventeen, once remarked in his hearing on the smallncss and whiteness of his hands, whereupon he-blushed deeply and moved out of sight, Time and again tho Marquis besought his keeper, to whom ho had taken a great liking (for which"Mordaunu's abilities as a sportsman were perhaps partially responsible), to quit his menial position and become his private secretary. The American's invariable reply was that he liked his position and would keep it as long as his lordship allowed him to do so. Then came a tragic night. Poachers wore abroad and the Marquis of vSans- downe, returning late at night through his grounds from a neighbor's, tried to capture two of them single-handed. He was felled to the ground with a bludgeon and might have perished then and there had not Eustace Mordaunt came stalking through the mconllt glade with his fowling-piece over his shoulder. One poacher fled. The other, as he stood over the prostrate Marquis, preparing to strike another blow, received acbargo of bird shot in the thigh. He responded with a pistol shot that stretched the American on tho dewy sward, and thon limped away. It was six weeks before Eustaco left his bed. During bis period of captivity the Marquis' cousin, the blue-eyed lady Edith, trotted down to the lodge every day with some delicacy to tempt his palate. The Marquis was not jealous. Perhaps he rightfully interpreted her charity as gratitude for his own salvation. When Eustace began to prowl about the grounds again, pale and thin, work was out of tho question. When his employer asked him ono day if there was any thing he wished for he blushed and hesitated. 'What is it, man? Speak out," said the Englishman, heartily. "While I, am idle all day," answered the American, 'I should like to have a piano down at the lodge, if your lordship would permit me to send to London for it." The Marquis raised his eyebrows in astonishment. "You are a musician as well as a gentleman, then," said he. 'Only an amateur," responded Eustace, modestly, "but all exiles love music, and I am an exile, you know." The next day four grooms came down to the lodge with an instrument that had formerly graced the Marquis' drawing-room. And after that the woods re"echoed with- the melody that was poured into them. Prior to this Eustace had kept his tenor a secret. In his illness, however, something of his old heart ache came back to him, and he sang as he did in the old days. Of course tho Marquis heard of It. He came down to the lodge and was enraptured, but the American resisted all his employer's entreaties to come up and sing for the guests at the manor. The game-keeper was stubborn on this point. He knew his place, he said, and would keep It Sometimes, however, the Marquis and his cousin would stop in their moonlight walks under the eccentric keeper's window and listen to the songs that were carolled out into the frosty night. The Christmas season draw on and there was a typical English house party up at the manor. There were noblemen and their families from distant counties, statesmen from London and some foreigners of note, including an American beauty or two who had lately realized the ambition of thoir lives by being presented at court. For a week all was light, laughter and gayety. With Christmas eve camo frost—hard honest frost, that covered the cute lit- woods wit! O! Night Dlvlnol O! Night when Christ was born!" Ad tho last wonderful notes—that same B flat was among them—went eddying forth, tho singer left the piano and camo to the window. As ho stood there for an Instant the watchers below saw a tall young man whose pale face looked wan and emaciated In the flood of moonlight leaning against the casement. And at that instant one of the American Beauties dropped her tiny skates to tho ground with a clatter, gasping out: "Eustace! Eustace!" Tho game-keeper leaned over the sill and peered down at the faces bolow. Th«n ho straightened himself up and closed tho window with a bang. "Lord Sandsdowne, who is that?" demanded a corUvin American Beauty, rushing impetuously up to tho Marquis, who wiis looking rather dazod, with his cousin Edith on his arm. "That's my keeper, John Brett," he responded, stupidly. "What—" But tho American Beauty's mamma grabbed lior by the asm and led her away. Her Inther assisted in the process, whistling a popular American ditty the while in an abstracted sort of way. "You little ninny," admonished tho American Beauty's mamma, as sho led hor half-fainting offspring on toward tho manor, "do you want to ruin your cliancos with tho Marquis?" CHAPTER III. Tho Marquis of Sansdowno was seated in his library tho following morning, smoking a very democratic short clay pipe, when his assistant game-keeper entered. Tho young man was very palo. He wore his long ulster and carried a valiso in his hand, "Your lordship," he said, "I wish to resign, am going away at once." For answer tho Marquis arose, grasped both his visitor's hands, lookei him straight in the eyes and emitted a leonine roar of laughter. Thon he ab ruptly left tho room. In about ten seconds Mildred Van Arman entered, looking very stern, bu with hor hazel eyes a-twinkle. Five minutes later Eustace had told her of his overhearing the fatal words that proved to him. her inconstancy. When her laughter had subsided she ejaculated with much difficulty: "O, you prince of all stupids', when you OUR YOUNG READERS A RIDE WITH SANTA CLAUS. "What's Christmas Pay, I'd like to know, More than another day?" cried Joe. 'The bolls chime louder, I admit, But a fallow needn't lose his wit, And crazy grow because of It!" A moody boy was Master .Too, Mnttor-of-fact and dull and slow. \Vhat lie inclined to was the real, He never soared to the Ideal. 80 when ho wont to bed that night, He saw no fairer, purer light In stars that glittered o'er the snow; Ills heart ne'er felt a warmer (flow For all God's creatures here below. The bells rang out their merry chimes, He'd heard them ring a hundred times; But their voices were the same to him; Joe's tnward earn were dull and dim. "I hope they'll not keep mo awake, Those bells; a sleep I'd like to take," Sighed Joe. "JIu! Jin! now for my round; My sleigh's at door. Come! in we'll boundi 'Twas Santa Glaus, Joe knew him well, That myth of whom he'd sneering toll, When s'nuiller lads were by to hear. "IIo! Ho! Oonio Joe, my time is near. Hiristmas is real! Tip! and off! To think at Christmas you could scoff!" The silvery bells began to jingle; 'he frosty air began to tingle. Away they tlew, by mansions great, And homes of humble, low estate; Uit every face they saw within, Tho rosy fair, or pail and thin, Uoamed with a sweet, expectant light, As if they looked upon that bright And fadeless star or long ago AVhlch shepherd's saw, watching below I And oh! the grace, the lovely beams On little faces in their dreams! "What's Christmas Day, you'd like to know, More than another? Ah! friend Joe, Howe'er it dawn, whatc'er its skies, We sec it with our hearts—not eyes! The breath of kindliness its air! Its sunlight—smiles of children fair! Good deeds its flowers, 'mid winter chilli Oh, day that brings Peace and Good WiUl Its blessed memories we save For the dear sake of Him who gave!" "Call me a myth, and at me sneer! If myths make life more glad, more dear, Long may they flourish! Ho! Ho! step out!' Joe woke up with u happy shout; And it is very safe to say That he kept well that Christmas Day! —George Cooper, in N. Y. Independent. THEIR PRESENTS. *:».iV"l '.M^.i'K 'rUKinj,? t/i r, ?M».Vl tbo chiltlron might lifi froo to mftkaj thoir selections. A pretty basket not on Margery's arm. It did not take 1C to decide what the baby would It and tho clerk rolled up the white MUg bit and gave it to Bobble, carred it tenderly; a tin fall was Robbie's purchase out ot own money, which stuck out of polket as if indignant that it w* used. Margery felt euro that tltS would Ilk* two little dolls, whiefc crowded into her pocket without W pings, '"cause dolls don't HkO tal heads wrapped," she said. "Robbio, If you tould have just whj you 'anted, 'ouldn't you have that Idf ly doll that jumps so beautifully wbf you 'also the lid of the box?" inqttl* Margery, pleadingly. "I ruthor have that big ol'phant," eX swered Robbie. Margery looked down as she Said,wlJ quivering Up*: "I don't like el'phattf but dolls Is—" "Lovely," interrupted Robbie; "" tourse. Buy it, Margy." "You woally and truly like it?" asleep eagerly. "Of tourse, if you do," was the At swer, and soon the children were hurt j ing homo at a trot. As soon as they were in the hoas Margery pushed the round box inj Robbie's hands, crying: "You is foole| twas for you all tbo time," and an] danced and jumped with glee abo Robbie, who flushed as he said: " Is very good to give mo this." In his innermost heart Bobbie 1t?S ashamed of the doll, but all the moil inpr he played with it while Marge pulled and carried tho red cart brown horse wherever she went, wero only bright smiles and hat voices in the house, and when and Robbie went round to Robbifj house to dinner each carried openly presents they received from the whilo thoir faces were so bright' happy that the people who saw tl thought: "Well, they have what t! wanted most."—Lillian W. Betta, Christian Union. BERTHA'S PLAYFELLOW. "I AM GOIXG AWAY AT OXCE." overheard me I was waiting for you. You heard me talking to my parrot!" At that instant the Christmas chimes from tho village church a mile away rang out like inad. And so it came to pass that one American heiress was lost to tho European aristocracy. HAEOLD R. VYNNE. open7ng"chordr on Vhe"granT piano in ) open'ed'theYoor smirked as he admitted I tie artificial lake in the v s - -. . --i -•> I •• ' » __:_!,.-_ — A remarked: three solid inches of ice. A moonugu this is 1 skating party was a delicious novelty, the corner, the revellers had a chance to observe tho man on whom th,e heiress to the Van Arman millions was supposed to have bestowed her affections. Tall, straight as an arrow, was he. with sturdy, well-knit limbs and a face at once handsome and resolute. Such a face as is worn by a man of iron will, but with soft lines abott the mouth thai betokened a sunny, ha-ppy temperament. His shapely head wae thrown back a little and his broad chest ex- see the handsome visitor, and "You 'ave made a mistoik, sir; the servants' hentrance." "It was the servants' hentrance thatl wanted," answered Eustace. "Please tell his lordship I should like to him at once." The man led the way to tho big hallway, where big antlerwd heads looked down from the walls, and guns and fishing-rods hung on large racks. Presently the flunkey came and ushered the whore sat tbo the manor was ae- panded as he commenced to sing, in a v i s itor into the library ringing, resonant tenor, Adams' death- j Marquis. less "Cantique de Noel:" "O holy Night! The stars are brightly shining; It is the uigbt of the dear Saviour's binu! Long lay tho world iu siu and error piuiug Till He appeared, and tlio world '*aew His worth. JngratL-fulsong,our joyous antUems raise we, For yonder breaks a pure and glorious light. kneos! Now lieur the ange, on your voices ! ._ .O night divine ! O night wnen Christ was born As the verse ended the revellers atood spellbound. Every one who has beard that noble eon^- knows its power. The moonlight, streaming in, surrounded tho athletic form ol the singer with Eustace had expected to see a grim old man, stately of demeanor and haughty in appearance. Instead of that, there arose to meet him a youag man of thirty or thereabouts, clad in Shooting corduroys, with broad shoulders and a frank, healthy, red face. 'I have called, your lordship," announced Movdaunt, drawing off his brick-colored kid», "to endeavor to secure the position of- assistant gamekeeper, which you advertised yestet- day." The Marauis stared, "You what.?" and every guest at lighted at their one. For four hours the ghostly figures. ( —the ladies well clad in furs—glided i over the surface, and then the ice was j deserted and host and guest started', homeward over the frozen turf. Very ghostly looked the frost-laden branches in the moonlight. It lacked two minutes of midnight when the party of pedestrians stopped, thunderstruck. Out of the silence came ringing the notes cf a superb tenor. The sound seemed to spring out of tho trees. Like a bugle call they rang forth, loud, clear and sweet. The wayfarers were under the windows of the keeper's lodge. Their footfalls made no sound on the frozen sod, and all etayed to listen. The singer was in the midst of the imperishable Cantique de Noel: " He it was who taught us to love oaa another; His word is law and His gospel is peace, Chains shall He break; the slave Is* our brother, And at His word all oppression shall cea.se, Fall o« s '•vr kuees' T\Tr. Rou.nd.top Wfcy do -kUoy Christmas-tide, Portly? Mr. Portly—Because there are so many weddings, perhaps. Christmas- tied. See? I thought it was because so many were trying to tide over it.—Siftings. An Exhausting Task. Alpha—I see that your friend Bonds- by has sailed for Europe. What ia the object of his visit? Omega—He goes to recuperate his health, which is broken down by overwork. Alpha—Overwork? Why, I never knew him to do a day's work in hia life. Omega—You don't know all. One day week he went out to select a Christ- present for his wife, and he came homo suffering from nervous prostration. — The Pastor's Appeal. J have sixteen pairs of slippers, And they're ail of them too small; lown twenty-one watch-oases, And they're mostly on the wall; I have tUirty-ttve penwipers In my desk guito sately stored; Bo I modestly request you, Wlieii you add unto my hoard OS sweet Christmas gifts and wishes, To recall these facts are so; And I'd humbly like to mention I've out watch, which doesn't go. —Aristine Anderson, in Judge. The loving wife gave up five dollars for a shaving set as a Christmas gift for her husband. He has shaved with it just once, and now his face looks as if he had been pitted against Sullivan with hard gloves. He will present his wile on New Year's day with tho razor, •with which to pare hei corns. Women have long heads.— Lowell Citizen,. How Maruery Got a Horse and Cart and Hobble a Pretty Doll. Margery stood by tho window looking out into tho street. If you watched the faces that went hurrying by, you would aave known at once it was Christmas. Even the policeman on the corner forgot to frown at the crowd of boys who passed along blowing their tin horns with all their might. But if you had looked at the window where Margery stood, with her hair all tumbled, and frowns that were enough to startle tho policeman, I do not know what day you would have decided it was, but you would never have dreamed from that face that it was Christmas. Why was it Margery frowned so, do you suppose? Because she found a wooden horse and cart among her Christmas things, and carts and horses, she thought, were meant for boys. So all the pretty things that were scattered about her room did not drive tho frowns away. She did not tell why she felt so injured; she was ashamed, I think. Tho frowns and sulks made every one uncomfortable, and the "Merry Christmas" greeting was only on the lips of the family. It was not a very large Anally, to be sure _only just a father ana mother and Bridget and Mary, but tb^n, you see, they all loved Margery, and did all they could to make her happy, and is it any wonder that when they failed so completely on this day, of all days in the year, they were made unhappy? Suddenly the bell rang, and Margery smiled as she heard a boyish voice call out: "I 'ant Margy," as loudly &a if Margery were blocks away. She hurried from behind the curtain, and, standing at the top of the stairs, answerad: "I here, Robbie." "Oh, Margy! otyou got?" A wave of color crept into Margery's face as she led tho war into her own room. Robbie came up the stairs and followed her as quickly as his fat legs would let him. Such ft lot of things! A tin kitchen, a lovftly doll, with a trunk of clothes, a doll carriage, and two chairs, a set of "Lulu's Library," and a tricycle. Robbie looked searching about, though ho was polite and looked at every thing Margery showed him. At last he askud, with a peculiar voice: "You didn't det anyfing else, Margy —no horse with a taautiful red cart, did you, Margy?" Margery's cheeks e««w very red, and she hesitated a moment, but nnauy i»~<.v, 0 rl down under the bed, crawled uader so nothing but two fat legs and & pair of red boots were in sight, uid began backing slowly out, till sh«. stood on her feet, holding a string. Putting her other hand to her face, ehe dragged slowly into sight a browti wooden horse, attached to a wooden cart that was painted a bright red. The horse and oart were on their sides. "Aren't they boo- tlful!" exclaimed Robbie, as he righted them. "I buyod 'em." But in a moment two fat hands were over his mouth, while hla eyes said so plainly: "Oh!" Margery loolj»sd at him, and then at the despised h»jrse and cart. She was very quiet for a moment, but at last bent down, patted the horse, and said: "You is vei-}- good, Robbie, to buy this pretty horse tor me." "Oh! Mar£/! I was 'fraid you didn t like it, and do you really? I 'fought and 'fought, and then I 'membered 'our 'ittle dolls, *nd 'fought'em touldn'tfall out of 'at wu-t Is you glad I dot it, Martry?" fcfld Robbie's eyesgrew bigger as ho wai<4Jd for the answer. Margy fcung her head at first, but at last she taid, as she kneeled beside the horse a»4 cart on the floor; "Yes, I is, 'cause you gived it tome." Another thought #ntered Margery's head at this moment. She had a whole dollar, and she would spend it to buy Robbie and his baby sister a ChBistmas present. She flew down- staira to her mother, who listened to the plan that Margy should ask Robby to go with her to a store on the avenue that they knew was open, and she would not tell him for whom she was buying the things. went with the children and Blshl 1 A Little Girl's Comments on That Made a Noise. Bertha was very fond of play; in fa! she was a little inclined to be a ro and the more noise sho made the betl it suited her. Bertha's mamma did not allow her! play with some of the boys in the neii borhood because they wore rude, but there was one gentle little boy lived near, and ho and Bertha had times together. Once Bertha and her mamma spending the day at a house wheft Bishop was visiting. The Blsi was a small, boyish-looking and he was extremely fond| children, so ho and Bertha friends directly. And what a me time these two had! Bertha seemec have found a playfellow after her c heart, and the Bishop appeard to eia their frolics as much as she did. i When tho time came for Bertha, her mamma te leave, the littles walked up to the Bishop and said: "I wish you would come and ; with me some afternoon. Mamma,'* me play with nice boys!" Then she added to her mamma, coaxing tone: "He's real nice, mamma, if he ( make a noise!" And Bertha wondered why body laughed.—Youth's Companiox| CHILDREN'S SAYINGS. "Mamma," said Willie from thede of the bathHub, "you'd better get*; new sponge. This one leaks awf Harper's Young People. A little Maine girl, to whose fa there came an addition, remarked'!) a sigh: "Now we will have to op pie in six pieces."— Boston Joun Little Girl (in church)— "Why i many people put those little envl on the contribution plate?" Litt —"Them's to keep the pennie|f makin' so much noise." — N. Y. Little Mabel described grapt her sensation on striking ' a elbow on the bed carving: >l O.|i ahe signed, "mamma, I've stoic arm just where it makes stars fingers. " — Babyhood. Little Hans (to his mother, ^ anxiously looking for his BS sister)— "O, don't bb worried, they will be sure to find Elsiei they clear up tho rooms in ing."— Fllegentte Blatter. Johnnie (looking at lightnii barn) — "i'u i***- ±- v«.-»-n r branches out into two parts gets upon the roof." Willis ,(w| premencontempt for tho othe*" ranee)— "To catch the forked U^ of course." "Mamma, what is the use ing the whip for use on roe "bel motto: 'God Bless Our you suggest a better plaoe?"j mamma; put it behind the «M| Need Thee Every Hour."'West. Fred came home with fnl look on bis face. He ished at school, and though it ] deserved, felt very much ahuaeji teacher rules with an iron h8 asked Fred's papa with a band isn't iron," Freed plied; "but it seems to me b,i — Youth's Companion* r" ~~M~""" ~ — — General Scott's A military order issue*' summer of 1832 has light in which General now remedy for intewpera? had macle its appearance i and. The commander beUgj ravages of the disease ing, and he "peremptorily every soldier or ranger fe"" compeled, as soon as bl£ permit, to dig » grave burying place, as such fail to be soon wanted man himself or some 4? ion." The order eral adds, as well te ishment o| drunfcs "good and tem digging graves for . ,. perate 1 "