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vhose spirit great and goou 1086 Storehouse angry food

Qo lab ors.

Said she, * Pray ieli me if 5 Why men so bashful are? They fali in love and dream, and sigh, And worship us afar ; But when they strive to tel! the tale They stutter, hesitate and fail

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We laiies like @ mau, you know, One not afraid io speak, "— Ané here I thought « blush appearet, Upon the maiden’s cheek ; Then to myself I said. “I see This maiden’s heart Belongs to we

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Then out I spake, «O Lady fair My heart, my life is thine

Since | boldly speak my love Pray, wilt thou not be mine

*No Sir,’ said she, with wondering stare “ Strange how presuming some men are!”

MISS PRUE'S CAMPAIGN.

Phe silver-leafed poplars, down by the little gate, were bevinning to throw long

Kk siadows over the grass, one July afternoon, a when Lottie, pink-robed and white-aproned, { fluttered out of the farm-house, and seated } herself on the low, broad door-stone. It : was cooler there, and she liked to watch the

shifting light and shade on the grass, she said reassuringly to herself, while a faint flush swept over her cheeks, because her eyes would keep wandering down the road. Hezekiah, Aunt Prue’s youthsof-all-work, had gone to the village post-office, and it was almost time for him to return. ‘hat was nothing. Hezekiah went nearly every day; and Lottie resolutely turned her head the other way as she heard the click of the gate-latch, ani only halfslooked into the tidy kitchen where Aunt Prue was making biscuit for tes, at the sound of his ebuffling step on the floor.

‘Here’s the Brownsville Herald, Miss Camp, and there wasn’t no letters there.’

‘Didn't say I expected any, did 1? de. manded Miss Prudence, receiving the paper Between a floury thumb and finger, and depositing it carefully on a shelf by the @ock.’

The leaf-shadow: suddenly lost their charm ; the fresh green yard looked lonely. Lottie pressed her lips closely together for @ moment. and then vehemently whispered,

* You little goose !’ pecting any letter- only there might have been one.

‘Saw some feller in soldies clo’es walkin’ @p from the depot - home on a furlough, s’pose. Looked considerable like that young Huntley,’ remarked Hezekiah with a peculiar drawing down of his light eye- brows, and a sidelong glance toward the open door.

‘That's no concern of ours, responded Mi-s Prudence sharply.

None atall. Lottie started, then mental- ly repeated her complimentary opinion of herself, but this time more softly, witha quick light flas):ing sto her eyes.

Hezekiah evident\y had something on bis mind. He stumbled and blundered even more awkward!y than usual in bring-~ ing in the wood anc water for the night, hung the tongs up carefully instead of the dipper, and had almost emptied the last

——pail_of water into the wood-box before he noticed what he was about. He made eug: gestive remarks to the effect that, ‘It was queer how things dic happen anyway,’ and that ‘Nobody never knew what would turn ap.’ And when these failed to elicit any questions from the inattentive ladies, he lingered about the stove, making a pretence ef rattling out the ashes and adjusting the tea kettle.

‘Heard some new: up to the village to- day.’

‘T'll warrant you ! if there was any,’ coms mented Miss Prudence, dryly.

‘ Well, its sort of stunnin’. They say John Morgan and his men is raiding just promiscuous, and —’

‘Humph! that’s been in the papers this two weeks.’

*Well, it hain’'t been in the papers that

I ata

I guess, and makin’ straight for our place, and the melishy all turned out in the vil- lage, and everything, retorted Hezekiah, stung by such inditferencs into pouring out his tidings in a flood.

‘There! I knew just how it would be; I've always said so!’ cried Miss Prudence, dropping her biscuit cutter and turning around with a curiou-|ly mingled expression of dismay and triumph. ‘I've expected it from the first. Dear! dear!’

What Miss Prudence once suspected she @'ways believed, and what she believed, she kresy.fo 8 certainty, so it happened that her knowledge on many points was greater than that of most people, and, because of

perfectly argument proof. Ohio was near to the border; their village was in (Ohio, and they were in a lonely farmhouse, a mile from the village; ani she had prophesied disaster from the first. Lottie’s faintiy urged suggestion that the village was a

in particular, was quenched at ; ite first utterance. And now who was right?

6 Yea, sir, | s pose we'll see times! (ien- eral—oh, what ye~ca!! him ?— Shackleford is after him right smart, but he’s a good piece behind him, ye see and they say Morgan's men eats thing, and robs and cuts things generally where they «tops - jest helps themselves to whatever they like. I ‘low I'd as soon he would’nt come,’ pursued Hesekiah, encouragingly. And having at least created as great a commotion as he eould desire, he betook himself to the barn @> look after the horres.

A few moments of silence succeeded his exit ; then Miss Prudence took up her work again. ‘Expect we’)| have to eat our sup~ pers to-night, anyway,’ she remaraed grim-

as if it had been a mortal enemy. Visions of her meat~barre! emptied, her poultry with their necks wrung, and her grand. mother’s silver teapot borne off under the arm of a marauder, filled her too full for speech, but sundry e:aphatic jerks of the head betokened « temper by no means

submissive.

Lottie, left to her own reflections, bestow - ed less thonght, if the truth must be told, upon the whole Soutlern Army than upon _ single young lieutenant in the opposing yanks. She wondere:! if Hezekiah really had seen him at the depot. She should know it to-morrow if he had come. Her heart gave & little ecstatic throb, then sank suddenly at a remem! rance of its unduti.

Surely she was not ex- |

they was clear out of Kentuckey into (hio, |

the way in which iv was acquired, it was |

@mali one, and not on the direct route to |

ly, and charged upon (he unoffending dough |

| and having once intrenched herself in that

position, what should move he? Her first | knowledge of the family had bc en 8 cuance | meeting wiih Mrs. Huntley ins store, upon

|

moment's anxious pondering, she proposed her going up to the attic. © Look out the | window a bit, you know, and see if anys | body's coming,’ she added hastily, by way

| |

favorably ; but by the end of the third visit, Aunt Prudence looked troubled, For hours she went about her work silently, but with a queer twitching about her lips that be-~

} which unfortunate occasion tht lady had | of explanation; murmuring to herself as tokened an inward struggle, and at last

‘looked at her through an eye-glass. ‘Stared at me through her telescope as if I | was a naturl curiosity, rehcarsed Miss | Prudence, indignantly, and as whatever she knew, she knew thorougly, she was ful. ly assured that ‘that woman vas one of

your starched, high-flyin’ simyletons, that |

her family must all be after th tern, and that she never coulc, would, or should like any of them.’ Lottie had learned to wonder, since then, how anybody could help liking her brave, g’ sat-hearted;

generous Dick ; but arguments were rather | | worse than useless with Aunt Frue, and she |

knew it. | *Yet she is so good when she is good at all, Dick, and she loves me, ard has taken care of me ever since | was a little mother- less baby. I can’t break her dear, knotty, blessed old heart tor anybody; I never will!’ Lottie had informed the young gentleman in a burst of affectionate resolve and regret. ‘And so—well—’ and there ‘I wish she didn’t love you quite so

much, since she is determined to like me | so little,” commented Dick, discontenteudly. |

‘If only she could happen to do some- thing for you,’ pursued Lottie, meditativex ly. ‘She is sure to think a great deal of anyone after once she has shown them a kindness—even if it was almost accidental. I think her heart really is so full of good- ness after all, that she can’t stop it when once it breaks through in any direction.’

‘Oh, if that is all, I'm sure she might do me a most inestimable favor!’ began Dick, with fervid impressiveness. But that was bringing the subject around to the starting point again, and as travelling in a circle never leads one out of the wood, their course had grown no clearer.

And now he was Lieutenant Huntley, and home on a furlough — if Hezekiah hadn't been mistaken—and she should be so glad tosee him. But Aunt Prue—oh dear! and Lottie’s reverie drooped dejects ly. Hezekiah enlivened the evening by exhibiting before their mental vision, in occasional cheerful suggestions, a running panorama of burning barns, stolen horses, devastated fields. He tried to beapprehens sive himself, but he was a youth with such genius for keeping out of danger, that he had little to fear personally, and the an, ticipation of what he might see proved al- most as exhilarating as if it were his favor- ite circus coming to town.

The blue-coats and grey~coats, flitting through the different brain:, made the usually quiet sleepers wakeful that night. Everyone thought the hours long ; the old clock in the kitchen seemed to move more slowly than ever before, and the first flush of dawn was greeted eagerly.

‘IT want you to go into town as soon as | you can, this morning, Hezekiah, and find ont what's doing,’ said Miss Prudence, with the result of her night’s study written in determined lines on her face, | household assembled at the early break- | fast. ‘And you may take the whole lot of | this year’s chickens along, and sell 'em for | anything you can get. 1 don’t care about | having any left but the old bens, and that

| old Mathuselah of a rooster--I rather think |

if anybody waits for him to stew tender,

he wen’t travel much further while this war | lasts." | «Yes'm,’ answered Hezekiah with un-~ wonted alacrity. Going to the village was | precisely in accordance with his taste, and he displayed remarkable celerity in ‘’tend~- in’ to the chores,’ and positive brilliancy when it came to catching the chickens, so that he was soon ready to depart.

‘Hegekiah,’ said Mise Prudence, rather hesitatingly, ‘there's that old musket up in the garret, you know. It isn’t the least mite likely anybody will want to use it ; but, then, if it was loaded—it wouldn't do any harm, as | can see.’

‘Charge her up if ye say so,’ assented the warlike Hezekiah, with a little chuckle of delight. ‘Fix her so ye can drop a feller | the first pop.’

‘I told you it wasn’t likely I'd touch it, didn’t 1? repeated the lady with a sort of sharpness. She had the weapon brough? down and loaded, however, watching it with | suspicious eyes until it was carefully put away behind the door.

‘Hezekiah!’ she called once more, as that youth was disappearing through the gate, ‘Mind you hurry back ; there’s no use in your hanging round the village half the day.’

But Hezekiah considered himself out of | listening distance, and wisely forbore to

hear the remark.

It was a lovely morning—a soft breeze | swaying the vine-leaves, and bird songs | floating in at every door and window ; but | the sweet ‘stilliness, that breathed only | peace on other days, brought a strange | unrest on this one, and grew unutterably oppressive, at last, as the hours crept

slowly by. Hezekiah did not return, and no tidings reached them from the outer | world, from which they seemed suddenly ‘to have been isolated. The eyes of the | two women turned alike often and anxi- ‘ously up the dusty road, though with a different hope aad expectation in them. As the forenoon wore away, Miss Prudence’s | impatient ejaculations concerning Heze~ kiah’s hurrying grew less frequent, and she began to busy herself with certain grim, | mysterious preparations. She produced from an old black wallet a small roll of greenbacks, and drawing off her shoe, des posited the money in the toe of her stocks ing. Then she brought forth her treasured silver tea~pot, placed her silver spoons and an old watch that had belonged to her | father, with it, and remembering the scar. | city of drugs in the confederacy, patriotic.

| cally added a bottle of paregoric and a vial.

|ofc2mphor. She enclosed the whole ina | bandbox, emptied of her best cap for the | purpose and then arming herself with a |} spade, dug a hole in the garden, and | buried her treasures.

‘ There!’ she exclaimed, returning flush. | ed, but triumphant, ‘ none of that lot’ll be found in a hurry, I'll warrant!’

Her courage and ingenuity appeared to increase with the certainty that she had only herself to depend upon for putting her castle in a state of defence. Lottie watched with unspoken wonder the hiding away of their best bonnets, not quite able to understand what any soldier, enemy, or otherwise, could want with such articles ; but when Miss Prudence caught up the family Bible, and hastily wrapping it in a newspaper, stuffed it up the chimney, her astonishment found voice.

‘Why, Aunt Proe! yeu don’t suppose they would be insane enough to steal a Bible—a great one like that, too, they couldn’t carry after they had got it ?’

‘You don’t know anything about war, child,’ retorted Miss Prudence _loftily ‘I’ve read of their making raids into towns, and destroying the records, many a time ; and I don’t want the fbirths, deaths, and | marriages of the whole Camp family tore up, I can tell you ! ’

The good lady's energy soon secured safe

|

fulness, for Aunt P:udence ‘did’nt like nooks for her most valuable possessions— \ Dick Huntley, nor any of the Huntleys,’ as all but Lottie. Her gaze rested uneasily the affirmed most deoi:lediy on all occasions, upon the girl’s fair face, and after a few

same pat~ |

when the |

the light foot died away, ‘If I could only contrive some place to keep her out of | the way !’

| ‘Aunt Prue! Aunt Prue!’

| tie’s clear voice from the stairway

called Lots | ‘Come | up here a minute, do.’

That attic window overlooked broad, rich | fields and running slopes, and away to the westward showed the grand old hills, with all the beauty of summer upon them, but | Misa Prudence’s eyes saw only the short line of distant highway, along which a} body of mounted men were moving.

‘It’s them,’ she said in answer to Lottie’s questioning glance, her lips growing a | shade paler with the words, but closing | resolutely.

‘It is too far off to see very well, but [ should not think they were in uniform,’ urged Lottie.

‘That's no difference, they wear every- thing. Of course it must be them. What else would such a lot of men be together for?’

‘The village road crosses the one they are on just a little below them, and they | will probably go in that direction, whoever | they are. I don’t believe we shall see any | more of them,’ pursued Lottie, but half | interrogatively.

‘There's no telling what they'll do, just | as likely to take this way as the other, and | the orchard hides the turn in the road, so | there's no seeing what they're about. Oh, that good-for nothing Hezekiah! You stay here, child, while I run down and lock the doors.”

The riders disappeared behind the orch- ard trees, and Lottie waited, trembling and excited, yet scarcely able to believe that there was any real cause for fear. A body of hostile cavalry riding down upon her secluded home seemed too story-like to be true. Ifa few did stop, it would only be for provision. They were rough men, though. Well, she would be almost will ing to be frightened a little if only Dick could know, and come to their rescue. Surely then Aunt Prue — But Lottie’s thoughts broke off midway, and the color faded swiftly away from her cheek—Dick,

a Union officer, alone among suv many enemies! What might they not do to him? ‘No! .no! whatever happens, |

hope he will stay away,’ she whispered with a shudder.

Miss Prudence closed shutters, and boit- ed doors carefully, making a speedy tour of the lower floor; the taking up the old musket, and carrying it cautiously at arm's length, re-ascended the stairs. At the top of the first flight she paused for a moment, and with an uneasy fear that something might have Leen neglected, entered herownroom. Alli was safe there, no valuables in sight, and she was turning away when through the open window she caught a glimpse of a blue-coat, and a second hasty glance revealed a man in uni- form already hurrying up the walk.

‘| knew they'd come! I was just sure

}

}of it! Ob, that Hezekiah!’ she murmured frantically. What should they do? There | | would be more of them in a minute or |

two, and all her desperate clesire to prevent their entrance revived. If only there were a few armed men inside to protect the place! She glanced down at her musket. No, she didn’t want anybody killed, after all, but if the house were only guarded, they could probably be driven off, and no- body hurt much. And just there a_bril~ liant stratagem flashed into Aunt Prue's mind. She might frighten this one so that he would keep others from coming ! How could he tell how many were in the house? She pushed the barrel of her weapon through the window, and with the merciful intention of only alarming, aimed at nothing in particular, and shutting both eyes, pulled the trigger. The flash and report were followed by a startled exclama, tion from without ; then a loud halloo that was answered by a scream from the attic, and the next moment Lottie rushed down | the stairs crying, ‘Oh, Aunt Prue | what | have you done?’ but waiting for no reply, | sped on to the door, and unfastened bolts | and locks.

Luckless aunt Prue! from the floor to which she had dropped, rubbed her eyes, and gazed out the wins dow in bewilderment to see what she had done. ‘There on the walk stood Dick Huntley, his right arm supporting his left arm, from which the blood was flowimg, while Lottie was beside him pale and tear- ful,

‘Merey on us!’ exclaimed the unfors tunate warrior as she comprehended the seene. ‘If I'd only aimed at him he'd have been safe enough, and now I've hit him for sure; and he’s no raider either. Was there ever such a mess?’

‘Oh! Aunt Prue, can’t you do some- thing for him ? ’ called Lottie’s distressed voice, and Miss Prudence in great discom- fiture, abandoned the ramparts for the hospital.

The injury proved but a flesh wound— an ugly one Miss Prudence thought, and | Lottie grew faint and sick at the sight, but the young lieutenant made light of it, Just a rough cut, that was all, Still, if | Miss Camp would fix it up a little, so that | he could go back to the village ——’

‘Oh, for that matter, I fancy I could do | it up as well as any doctor of ‘em all!’ | interposed Miss Prudence with a touch of professional pride, ‘ though I can’t say as | I shot you for the sake of having a patient,’ she added, breaking into an awkward, ins | coherent apology, and wishing her victim | were any one but Dick Huntley.

Not so wished Dick. He was secretly delighted with the whole affair, and while Miss Camp bathed, cut strips of adhesive | plaster, and applied bandages, he explained | how he had come home unexpectedly, and | found his mother and sisters away for a) week's visit. Then hearing reports that | an invasion of the, village was expected, he had feared that Miss Camp and Miss | Lottie might be alarmed by the story, and | had to come oui to reassure them

‘Morgan and a party of his men did | pass some twenty miles below here, last | night, but they were closely pursued, and trying to cross the river. There was no inducement whatever for them to come in this direction; and the militia who went out from the village last evening were re- turning a few minutesago.’

Miss Prudence’s touches grew more ten- der as she listened, and began to admire the manly coolness and bravery, She did not like Dick Huntley, or any of the Hunt leys, but since she had done what she had, and his folks were away from home, she oouldn’t do less than ask him to stay to tea, she said to herself a iittle later; and the invitation was readily accepted.

‘Seeing I’ve begun to take care of your arm, and your folks ain't home, I don’t know Lut I might as well finish what I've begun—if you have nothing better to do than come out here every day or two, and jet me dress it,’ she said, though not alto. gether graciously, as he was taking his departure. She looked relieved, however, when he acceded to the proposition. The

days went by, and the healing progressed

She slowly arose

|

"about

she stopped by Lottie’s chair, and said, hesitatingly :

‘I’ve been thinking, child, maybe that Huntley woman might have been nears sighted after all, and couldn t help it.’

That was all; but Lottie knew that there had been a victory, and the Heayen-born charity, that thinketh no evil, and hopeth all things, had vangished prejudice. There was no more opposition to Dick ; and since the war, the old farmshouse has not been defenceless. Hezekiah still renders him- self useful-or useless, as the case may be—about the place, but Aunt Prue re- marks proudly :

‘There’s not much danger of things gos ing far wrong with a man like Captain Huntley to look after them.’

"RANDOM READINGS

The turn of the tide—The divorce court.

Anew name for tight boots—a corn crib,

The child who cried for an hour didn’t get it,

A girl has a ringing laugh when she is a belle,

What hi Kittens.

How to make feed him.

When is charity gins to hum,

a cat that nothing else has?

is

t

a slow horse fast? Don't

like a bee? When it be-

—Although Parisians ate 5090 horses last year many Frenchmen say ‘‘neigh” to horse steaks.

My Lady’s epigram—Male is only mule spelt wrongly.

The London Times says that great men are always in debt.

Nimrod was a mighty hunter, but he never saw an aunt elope.

Honest ducks dip their heads under water to liquidate their iittle bills.

Don’t quarrel with a Spiritualist. He can

always turn the tables on you.

As the eagle flies high above the highest mountain, so does true and holy love above struggling duty.

How quietly might many a one live, if he could care as little for the affairs of others as he does for his own.

While witnessing a game of base bali at Mount Stewart, a boy was struck in the back of the head, the baw! coming out of his mouth.

Allow a boy to run al large one year in indolence, aad you have laid the foundation of his future ruin.

There is this difference between happiness and wisdom : he that thinks himself the hap- piest man, really is so: but he that thinks

himself the wisest is generally the greatest fool.

Value the friendship of him whe stands by you in the storm; swarms of insects will

surround you in the sunshine

Josh Billings says: There ain't enything that. wiil kompletely kure lazyness, though a second wife has been known to hurry it some.

Ifa sense of the ridiculous is all there is ina man, he had better have been an ape at once, and so have stood at the head of his profess- ion

“Gracious me! " exclaimed a lady in a witness-box, ‘how should I know anything anything | don’t know

about ?’

There was a room with eight corners In each corner sat a cat: before each cat sat seven other cats; and on each cat's tail sat a

cat. How many were there in all?

And John selected the meek-eyed, fair-

THE ECONOMY OF HUMAN LIFE.

WOMAN,

Give ear, fair daughter of love, to the in- structions of Prudence; and let the precepts of Truth sink deep in thine heart: so shall the charms of thy mind add lustre to thy form ; and thybeauty, like therose it resembleth, shall retain it’s sweetness, when it's bloom is withered.

In the spring of thy youth, in the morning of thy days, when the eyes of men gaze on thee with delight; ah! hear with caution their alluring words; guard well thy heart, nor listen to their seducements

Remember, thou art made man’s reasona companion, not the slave of bis passion; tt end of thy being is to assist him in the toils of life, to soothe him with thy tenderness, and recompense his care with soft endearments.

Who is she that winneth the heart of man, that subdueth him to love, and reigneth in his breast.

Lo | yonder she walketh in maiden sweet- ness, with innocence in her mind, and mod- esty on her cheek.

Her hand seeketh employment; her foot delighteth not in gaddiag abroad,

She is clothed with neatness; she is fed" with temperance ; humility and meckness are as acrown of glory circling her head.

On her tongue dwelleth music ; the sweet- ness of honey floweth from her lips.

Decency is in all her words ; in her answers are mildness and truth,

Submission and obedience are the lessons of her life; and peace and happiness are her reward.

Before her steps walketh Prudence ; Virtue attendeth at her right-hand.

ble | th

and

Her eye speaketh softness and love; but discretion wilh a sceptre sitteth on her brow. centious is dumb in

f her virtue keepeth

The tongue of the her presence; the aw him silent.

When scandal is busy, and the fame of her neighbour is tossed from tongue to ton- gue, if charity and good-nature open not her mouth, the finger of silence resteth on her tir

fler breast is the mansion of goodness; and therefore she suspectsth no evilin others.

Happy were the man that should make her his wife; happy the child that shall call her mother.

She presideth in the house, and there is peace; she commandeth with judgement,and is obeyed.

She ariseth in the morning ; she considers her affairs; and appointeth to every one their proper business.

The care of her family is her whole delight to that alone she applieth her study: and eie- gance with frugality is seen iu her mansions,

The prudence of ber management is an honour to her husband, and he heareth her praise with silent delight.

She informeth the minds of her children with wisdom; she fashioneth their manners from the example of her own goodness.

The word of her movth is the law of her youth; the motion of eye commandeth their obe lience.

She speaketh, and her servants fly; she pointeth and the thing is done: for the law of love is in their hearts; her kindness add- eth wings to their feet

In prosperity she is not puffed up; in ad- versity she kbealeth the wounds of fortune with patience

The troubles of her husband @re alleviated by her counsels, and sweetened by her en- dearments; he putteth his heartin her bosom, and receiveth comfort.

Happy is the man that hath made her his

wife; happy the child that calleth her mo- ther, } Hvuspanp.

Take unto thyself a wife, and obey the ors |

anything | and adornments ;

haired maiden who thus stood the test: and | he never had an occasion to regret his choice. | She proved to be a wife who looked well to |

the ways of her household, and her heart |

had no lack of faith and love

Tipkins eroused his wife from a second sieep the other night, saying he had seen a ghost in the shape of an ass. *Q, let me sleep,’’ was the reply of the irat> dame, ‘and don't be frightened at your own shadow. "’

A young Lady of Lyons, Iowa, recently said, ‘Some men are always talking about patronizing their own town—always harping on that duty—and yet they go abroad to get married, while here we all stand waiting! | do hope that some of the men who marry Eastern women may get cheated! “

A school boy being requested to write a composition on the subjeet of * pins,” pros duced the following : Pins are very useful. They have saved the lives of a great many men, women and children—in fact whole families."’ ‘‘How so?” asked the puzzled

teacher, and the boy replied, «* Why, by not | This matches the story | of the other boy who defined salt as the stuff | that makes potatoes taste bad when you don’t |

swallowing them.’

pul any on.

The creation of six new English peers, arousing the Scotch and Irish to a sense of injustice which allows these new peers to sit

is

in the House of Lords, while the ancient no- | bility of Scotland and Ireland are only par- |

tially represented. IfGreat Britain is a Un- ited Kingdom the two countries united with England ought not to be made provinces, as practically as they are.

“It has become so much the custom here to villify the Prince of Wales that it is refreshing to hear occasionally what they think of him in England, for that, after all, is the more important. At a public dinner the other day, in proposing his health, the chair- man referred to him as the most popular man in England, and that his popularity could not be inereased, for his efforts to secure the good will of all classes of society, or for the lead he took in every charitable cause. ” Encovurace Your Own.—lIf you have any pride in the prosperity of your own city or

| village, patronize its merchants and mes

chanics in preference to those of any other place. You cannot expect outsiders to be attracted to your stores and shops, so long as you patronize the traders and artizans of other places to their exclusion. See to it that your local newspapers are well support- ed with subscriptions, advertising and job work. Nowhere does the public spirit of a place tell so conspiciously as here. And be sure that you are judicious in the selection of the newspaper office you patronize. See

| to it that you support the best—the one

most sedulous in watching the interests of the country—the most enterprising, the most truly patriotic, the most readable. Therefore, people of Prince Edward Island, support THe Examiner.

—A St. Louis lover gave up a match with $50.000 heiress because she objeetel to smoking. So states an exchange. Another adds :—

“The maid, as by the papers doth appear,

Whome fifty thousand dollars made so dear

To test Lothario’s passion simply said,

‘Forego the weed before we go to wed;

For smoke take flames: I'll be thy flame’s bright fanner

To have youre Anna give up youre Havana.’

Buthe when thus she brought him to the scratch,

Lit his cigar and threw away the match.”

SevecTING A Wire.—We have heard of the test being applied to servant girls, but Jobn Starkley was the man who applied it to the selection of a wife. The Starkleys and Bel- knaps had !yeen friends through several gen~ erations. In the present generation there was in the Starkley family one son, and in the family of the Belknaps five daughters; and it had been arranged between the parents that the heir of the Starkleys should take him a wife from the daughters of Belknap. John the heir aforesaid, at the age of tive and twenty, had returned from his travels, when his father bade him select from the daughters of the friendly house the one he would hive for a wife. John was a dutiful son, and his heart was whole, and as the maidens were ail fair to look upon, he accepted the situa- tion, determined to master it if possible.

John spent several evenings in the com-~ pany of the young ladies; and it was difficult to decide which was the most charming, though his fancy rested most lingevingiy on the youngest—not that she was the hands somest, but she appeared the most sensible,

One day John was invited to dinner, and, in advance of the family, he made his way into the ball, and threw a broom upon the floor, directly across the passage to the din- ing room. By and by summons sounded for the meal, and John watched for the result. The eldest daughter stepped over the broom jo‘tily; the second went around it; the third gave it a kick from her path; the fourth gave itan extra kick; the fifth—the yeungest— stopped and picked the broom up and took it to the far corner of the hall and set it care~ fully out of the way:

| joined with softness of manners, an accom-

ily;

| itis thy duty to support

The Boston Advertiser has the foilowing :— |

| with food,

dinanee of God ; take unto thysel!' a wife, and | become a faithful member of society,

But examine with care, and fix not sudden- on thy present choice depends the fut- ure happiness of thee and thy posterity,

If much of her time is destroyed in dress if she is enamoured with her own beauty, and delighted with her own praise, if she laugheth much, and talketh a- loud, if her feot abideth nct in her father’s house, and herfeyes with boldness rove on the faces of men; though he ‘auly were as the sun in the firmament heaven, turn thine eyes from her charms, turn tiv feet from her paths, and suffer not thy soul to be en- snared by the allurements of thy imagination

But when thou findest sensibility of heart

i

be of

plished mind, with a form agreeable to thy fancy, take her home to thy house; she is worthy to be thy friend, thy companion in life, the wife of thy bosom.

O cherish her as a blessing sent thee from heaven; let the kindness of thy behaviour en- dear thee to her heart :

She is the mistress of thy house; treat her, therefore, with respect, that thy servants may obey her.

Oppose not her inc]-nation without cause ; she is the partner of thy cares, make her also the partner of thy pleasures.

Reprove her faults with gentleness; exact not her obedience with rigour,

Trust thy secrets in her breast; her coun- sels are sincere; thou shalt not be deceived.

Be faithful to ber bed ; for she ther of thy children.

When pain and sickness assault her, let thy tenderness soothe her affliction: a look from thee of pily and love, shall alleviate her grief, or mitigate her pain; and be of more avail than ten physicians

is the mo-

Consider the delicacy of her sex, the tens derness of her frame; and be not severe to her weakness, but remember thine own ims perfections

PATHER

Consider, thou arta parent, the importance

of thy trust; the being thou hast produced,

Upon thee also it dependeth; whether the child of thy bosom shall be a blessing or a curse to thyself; a useful or a worthless mem- ber of the community.

Prepare him with early instruction, and season his mind with maxims of truth.

Watch the bent of his inclination; set him right in his youth; and let no evil habit gain strength with his years. :

So shall he rise like a cedar on the moun- tains; his head shall be seen above the trees of the forest. |

A wicked son is a reproach to his father; | but he that doeth right is an honour to his grey hairs.

The soil is thine own, let it not want cul- tivation; the seed which thou sowest, that also shalt thou reap.

Teach him obedience, and he shall bless | thee; teach him modesty, and he shall not be ashamed.

Teach him gratitude, and he shall receive benefits; teach him charity, and he shall gain love.

Teach him temperance, and he shall have health; teach him prudence, and fortune shall attend him.

Teach him justice, and he shall be honour- ed by the worid; teach him sincerity, and his own heart shall not reproach him.

@, Teach him diligence, and his wealth shall increase; teach him benevolence,and his mind shali be exalted.

Teach lim science, and his life shali be useful; teach him religion,and his death shall be happy |

SON i

From the creatures of God Jet man learn