r-.¢..._.._. a». -. I .,. 5,5‘, ; -‘;‘f':‘ l FAB.‘;lEEh§‘3° d®UBMA3a. dfiib commoner .._.1l,t A59‘!/'EM.'1&'§El_ll'i. Established 1823. jiern liesves from Fanny's Portfolio. W0)! A N . If ii woman once errs, Kick her down, kick her down; lfmlsfortune is hers, ' Kick ier down; The li lur ieiars_fisl| like ruin, Kick her down, kick her down; Redoiible the smart- Kick her down; And if low her oonditioii, Ui, ii u;iirlitii.i— Kick her down, Ay! pass her by on the other side; a ak no word of encoura ement to her ; measure not her fal by her tenipera- mentor or temptations, but by the frigidity of your own unsolicited, pharisalcal heart. Leave no door of escape open ; close your homes and our hearts ; crush every human feeling in her soul; teach ier that the Bible and religion are a able ; check the repentant pra er on her Magdalen ll : thrust her back upon the cruel ten or mercies of those w 0 rejoice at her fall; send her forth with her branded beauty, like a blight and mildew. “ Stand aside, for thou art holier"—bolier than the Siuless, whose feet were bathed with tears, “ and wi d with the hairs of the head." Cast the " first stone" at er, 0 thou whited sepulchre! though those holy lips could say, “ Neither do I condemn thee- go, and sin no more!" THE PASSIONATE FATHER. “ Come here. sir !".'.said a strong, athletic man, as he siesed a delicate-looking lad b the shoulder. “_You‘ve been in the water again, sir! aven’t I forbidden it!" “ Yes, father, but—" “ No ' buts !' IIaven’t I forbidden it, eh i” “ Yes, sir. I was—" “ No re ly, sir " and the blows fell likes hailstorm about the child's head and shoulders. Not a tear started from Harry's eye, but his face was deadl pale, and his lips firmly compressed, as he rose and looked at his father with an unflinching eye “ Go to your room, sir, and stay there till you are sent for. I'll master that spirit of yours before you are many da s older 2" ‘en minutes after, Harry’| door opened, and his mother glided entl in. She was a fragile, delicate woman, with mourn ul b no eyes, and tour les startlingly transparent. Layin her hand softly upon arry‘s head, she stooped and kisse his forehead. k was touched, and the waters gushed forth. “ Dear mother !” said the weepln y. “ Why didn't you tell your fat or that the water to save the life ofyour la mate " Did he ive me a chance 9’ said arry, springing to his feet, with». ashing eye. " Didn't be twice bid me silent, when I tried to explain! Mother, he's a tyrant to you and me !” ypu plunged into in “ Harry, he’s my husband and our father . ' I ever had but " Yes, and I'm sorr for it. hat have blows and harsh wor s! Look at your pale cheeks and sunken eyes. mother ! It's too bad, say ! He's a t nt, mother !” said the boy, with a clenched flat and set teeth : “ and if it were not for van, I would have been leagues ofl' lon a And therc‘s Nelly, too, poor, sick child. What goo will all her medicine do her! he trembles like a leaf when she bears his footsteps. I say ‘tis brutal, mother!" “ lIarry"—and a soft hand was laid on the impetuous boy's ll s-—“ for my sake-” “ We l, ‘tie only for your sake, yours and poor Nelly’s, or I should be on the sea soeiewhero—anywhere but here. Date that night, Mary Lee stole to her boy's bedside, before retiring to rest. “ God be thanked, he sleeps!” she murmured, as she shaded her lamp from his face. Then, kneeling at his bedside, she prayed or patience and wisdom to bear uncomplainingly the heavy cross under which her -4 u ate were falterin ; and then she prayed for her husband. P‘ , . . . . “ No, no, not tint! ' said Harry, springin fron; his or nec . “ can illow, and throwing his arms about xirgive him what he has done to me, but I never will for- ive him what he has made you sufl'er. Don't pray for im——at least, don‘t let me hear it!” Mary Lee was too wise to expostulate. She knew her boy was spirit-sore under the sense of recent in'usticc; so she lay down beside him, and, restin her tearfu check against his, repeated, in a low, sweet voice, the story of the cruci- flxion. “ Father, forgive them, the know not what they do !l’I’ fell upon his troubled ear. e yielded to the holy s . " I will!” he sobbed. “ Mother, you are an angel ; and ig I ev’e’r get to heaven, it will be your hand that has led ms t ere. There was hurrying to and fro in Robert Lee's house that night. It was a heavy hand that dealt those angry blows on that young head ! . The passionate father's repentance came too late-came with the word that his boy must die! " Be kind to her ” said Barry, as his head droopcd on his mother's shoulder. It was a dearly-bcu ht lesson. Beside that lifeless corpse Robert Lee renewed h s marriage-vow; and now, when the hot blood of an r rises to his tem les, and the hasty word springs to his I p, the pale face of t dead rises up between lfiom IlI:d,“l0 olender, and an angel voice whispers, " Peace, sti ! ’ TI-IE PARTIAL MOTHER. Fancy that little¢pals neglected, sensitive child, meckl returnia that touching answer to the mother of her patted’, beautifu sister! Who ooul not find a warm corner in their heart for her! Who would not hasten to make those , pensive eyes beam happiness! Who would not raise her estimate of her own powers, chilled and crushed in the germ,bythe hand that should wi away every childish tear? Ah ! " the cost of many so ours" is not yet worn out. The sullen brow of defiance, or the earl grave, is too often the sod nal . Other Josephs and shmaels ms yet “ thirst in the desert ;" other Jacobs and Elis have the r "grey hairs brought with sorrow e rave." How as dam is equal justice done to the children of a liir T an al, the brilliant, the showy, t e witty, throws dasslin glare over parental eyes. 'l‘hcy make not the less gi but often warmer-hearted child, as she creeps with swellin heart and flllln eyes to some un- noti'c'sd esriisr, to sob, w th passionate tsfrs, " Ah, it's only me ' h-own not impatience at the little shrinking creature at your sids—-slow of spessh and stammering of tongue, turn- ng his a tiaiidly. even from amother’s nce— use the uic lash of em out mounts to his forehead, and , _s bold, dashing eye, to answer the and _ him not! pa in hide his uarflleye hliishlag ehsfilaihs‘ ofyonr dress. family ! e Cliarlottetown, Prince Edward Island, if he will ; put a loving arm about him, and let him creep to your heart‘, and nestle there, till the little dove gains courage to flutter and soar with a strong wing. lie shall yet, eagle-like, face the sun ! You shall yet scarce keep.-5 sight his soaring pinions ! Bear with him yet a while. ambitious mother ! THE BALL‘ROOM AND THE NURSERY. “ You are quite beautiful to-night," said Frank Fearing to his young wife, as she entered the drawing-room dressed for a ball ; “ I shall fall in love with you event in. What! not a smile for your lover-husband! and a tear in your eye, too 1 What does this mean, dearest!" .\l~iry leaned her beautiful bead upon her husband‘s shoulder, and turned pale as she said, “ Frank,_I feel a strange, sad presentiment of some impending cvil—from whcncc I cannot tell. I have striven to banish it, but it will not go away. I had not meant to speak of it to you, lost on should think me weak or superstitious :_ and, Frank," said his sweet wife, in leading tones, “ this is a frivolous life we lead. We are a l the world to each other; why frequent such scenes as these! A fearful shadow lies across my path. Stay at home with me, dearest! I dare not go to-ni lit." Frank looked at her thoughtfully ii moment, then, gaily kissing her, he said, “This vile east wind has given you the blues; the more reason you should not iive yourself time to think of them. Beside, do you thin me such a Blue Board as to turn the key on so bright a jewel as your- self ' No, no, Mary, I would have others see it sparkle and shine, and env me its possession ; so throw on your cloak, little wife, an let us away." “ Stop a moment, then, ' said Mary, with a smile and a sigh, “ let me kiss little Walter before I ; he lies in his little bed so rosy and so bright. Come wit me Frank, and look at him." With kisses on lip, brow, and check, the child sluinbered on, and the carriage rolled away from the door to the ba l. It was a brilliant scene, that ball-room! Necks and arms that shamed for whiteness the snowy robes that floated around them, eyes rivalliu the diamond's light, tresses wliosc line was borrowed rom the sun, munhoods‘s peer- less form and open brow, odorous garlands, flashing lights, music to make the youn blood race more swiftly through the vcins—.ill, all were t iere, to intoxicate and bcwilder. Peerless in the midst-—queen of hearts and of the dance- stood the young wife of Frank Fearin Accepting the offered hand of an acquaintance, she too her place among the waltzers. She made a few turns u on the floor, then. pale as death, she turned to her has and, saying, “ rank I cannot—[ feel such an oppression here, here," and she placed her hand on heart on row. Frank looked anno ed; he was very proud of his wife; her beauty was the a miration of the room. She had never looked lovelier than to-night. Whispering in her ear, “ For my sake, dear Mary, conquer this weakness," he led her again to the dancers. With ii. smile of tified pride he followed her with his eyes, as her fairy form floated past him, excitement and exercise lending again to her check its loveliest glow, while on all sides murmurs of“ Beautiful, most beautiful !" fell on his ear. “ And that bri lit vision is mine,” said Frank to himself; “I have won or from hearts that were breaking for her." When the dance was over, following her to the window, he arranged her scarf about her neck with a fond care ; and with a “ ’l.‘liunk you. dearest,” was leaving her, when she again laid her hand upon his arm, saying, with a wild brilliancy in her eye, “ Frank! something as happened to Walter; take me home now. ’ " Pshaw! Mary, dear, you looked so radiant, I thought you had danced t e vapours away. One more, dearest, and then, ifyou say so, we will 0.’ ‘ Suflbring herself to be persuaded, again those tiny feet were seen spurnin the floor; towards the close, her face rew so deadly pa e that her husband, in alarm, llew to er side. " The effort cost you too much, Mary,” said Frank; “let us go home." He wrapped her cloak carefully about her. She was still and cold as a marble statue As the carriage stopped at their door, she rushed past him with the swiftness of an antelope, and, gaining her boy's chamber, Frank heard her exclaim, as she fell sense- less to the door, “I knew it! I told you so!” The child was dead. The servant in whose care it had been left, followin the example of her mistress, had joined some friends in a once in the hall. That terrible scourgp ofcliildren, the crou e, had attacked him, and alone, in t e still darkness, the air bo wrestled with the “ Kin of Terrors.” _ From whence came the sa presentiiuent that clouded the fair brow of the mother, or the mysterious magnetism draw- ing her so irresistibly back to her dying child? Who shall tell! For months she lay vibrating between life and death- “ Yet the Healer was there who had smitten her heart, And taken her treasure away; To allure her to heaven he has placed it on high, ii the moiirncr will sweetly is , There had whis iereil a voice—’twiis ige voice of her God- “ I love thee! l ove thee! pass under the red!" C O O U I I O Other fair children now call her " mother;” but never again, with ll ing feet, has she chased the midnight hours away. Night y, as they return, they find her within the uict circle of hoinc—within call of helpless chidhood. earer than the admiration of the ay throng, swoctcr to her than viol or harp, is the music of t eir young voices, and tenderly she leads their little feet " into the green pastures, and unto the still waters ofsalvation," blast with the smile of the Good Shepherd, who saith, " Suffer the little children to come unto me. and forbid them not." .u.i.’s wsLi.. Twelve o'clock in night, and aIl's Wflli False rophet! Still and statue-like, ssyonder window, stsndst e wife. The clock has told the small hours_; yet her face is ressed close against the window-pane, striving , in vain, w th straining eye, to pierce the darkness. She sees nothing; she hears nothing but the beating ofhnr own , heart. Now she takes her seat. opensa sma Bible, and seeks from it what comfort slio may, whilc tears blister the ges. - Then she clasp: her hands, and her lips are trema- ous with inutc supplication. liist! there is an unstead step in the hall. She knows it! Many a time and oft it has trod on her very heart-strings. She glides down gent? to meet the wanderer. He falls heavily against her: an , in maudlin tones, pronounces a name he had long since for- tten “ to honour.” Oh, all-enduring power of woman's ove! No reproach, no upbraiding—-the slight arm passed around that reelin llgure, once erect in ‘s own image." With tender wor s of entreaty, which he is powerless to resist, if he would, she leads him in. It is buts rs , tition of a thousand such vigils! It is the performance 0 a vow with patient on urance too common and heroism and , everyday to be chronic ed on cart too holy and has to pass naactiosd by the " registering angel‘ above! Batiirday, February 4, 1854. “ All’s well !" False prophet ! In onder luxurious room sits one whose curse it was to be air as a dreani of Time was when those clear eyes looked lovingly into a mother's face, when a grey-liaiirevl father laid his trembling hand; with a blessing, on that sunny head, when brothers‘ and sisters‘ voices blended with her own in lieart-music around that happy hearth. 01. wimre are they now! Are there none to say to the i-e-,..-.utiu;; Vlagdalen, “ Neither do I condemn thee: go and sin no more?" Must the gilded fetter continue to bind the soul that loatlies it, because man is less merciful than God ! “ .-\ll’s well '” False to list! There lies the dead orphan. In all the length on breadth of the green earth, there was found no sheltering nest where that lonely dove could fold its wings when the pairent—blrds had flown. The brooding wing was gone that covered it from the cold winds of uukinduess. Love was its life ; and so it droopcd ! “ Ali's wcll !” False prophet! Sin walks the earth in urple and line linen: honest overty, witli tear-hedewed ace. hungors, and shivers, and tliirsts, “ while the publican stands afar off!” 'l‘lic widow pleads in vain to the ermined judge for ‘- justice :” and, unpunished of lleiven, the human tiger crouclics in his lair, and springs upon his helpless prey! “ A l's woll !” .-\h, yes, all is well . for “ [Io who sooth the end from the beginning" holds evenly the scales of jus- tice. Dives shall yet bog of Liz-irus. livery human tour is counted, They shall yet sparkle as gems in the crown of the patient and enduring disciple ! When the clear, broad light of eternity sliincs upon lil'c‘s crooked paths, we shall see the snares and pitfalls from which our hedge o thorns has ‘fenced us in : and, in the maturity of our l’iill- rown faith. we‘ sh,all exultingly say, “ Father, not as I will, ut as Thou wi t! ’ HOW WOMAN LOVES. “ Walter,” said Mrs. Clay, “ you have not tasted your colfee this morning. Are on ill!" and she leaned across the table, and laid her hand upon his arm. “ No--- es, not quite well. I had a great deal to occupy me yesterd:iy;" and he arose from his seat to avoid the scrutiny of those clear eyes, adding, “ If I shoHldn’t be home at the dinner-liour, Marion. don‘t wait for me ; I may be detained by business. And now kiss me before I go." “ If Walter would only leave that odious b-.ink!“ said Marion to herself. ‘- Such a treadmill life for him to lead ! They are killing him with such close application ;” and she moved about, busying her little head devising certain pathetic appeals to the “ Board of Directors" for a miti- gation of his sufferings. \Vlien one is away from a dear friend, ’tis a satisfaction to be c_m.ployed in performing some little service for him, how trifling socver it may be. So Marion passed into the library, arranging Walter‘s books and papers, producing order out of confusion from a discoui-agin and hetero- geneous heap of pamphlets and letters, mcved‘I1i(easy-chair round to the most inviting locality; and then her eyes fell uponii little sketch be had drawn. “ Poor lValter "’ said she, ~‘_with his artist eye and poet heart, to be counting u those interminable rows of hgures, day after day, that any iuan who has brains enough for the rule of three could do just as well. To thiuk_he must always lead such ii tread- ll:lll.l|l‘0 !bnove&- fpast his eylcslon all that is lipiaiitiful and g orious eyon tic seas, w ii 0 so many stupi people are galloping over the continent, gettin up fits of sham enthu- siasm, just as the ‘ Guide Books‘ irect! It is too had." She wished hoartil she had brought him other dowry than her prett face an warm heart. Well, inner-hour come, but came not Walter. Marion was not anxious, because he had prepared her for his absence ; but she missed his handsome face at the table, and pushed away her food untasted. She was unfashicnable enough to love him quite as well, although she had been married many happy years, as on the day when the priest's blessing fell on her maiden car. _. _ “ Come here, Nettie,” said she to a noble boy.” “ S ring mtq 13y’ lap‘, ziind let me look tit papa sleyeg; :1: hello pusic )2l(: tic c ustcriiw cur s roiu iis r a , W 'tc forehead. ‘Y" me, Sciatic, which do you olove belst, papapor me 7d I I be b0 d “ apa sai innst ove you st, cause he oes," said the child. “ Bless your baby-lips for that sweet answer ! Where can that dear papa be, I wonder .1" The words had butjust escaped her lips when her father cntcrcd—not with his usual beaming smile and extended hand, but with a slow, uncertain etc ,ns if he could with difficulty sustain himself, and such a iaggaird look ! “ fiend lpway tllple child," said he huskily; “I want to spec wit you arion." ‘° lIe_is not dead! don't tell me that!” said she, with aslien lips, her thoughts at once reverting to her husband. “ Better so, better so,” said the old man, shaking his grey head, “ than to live to disgrace us all as he has !" H Who darc couple ‘ disgrace’ with Walter‘s name!" . _ o imp or ng in iis ace. “ lie has dis raced us all,_ say!” said the proud old man: “you an I, and that innocent child. lie has em- betizlled money to rilarge hamount,hand is now ii‘; custody; an ‘ve come to ta c you ome wit me— on an Nettic~ for you must forget him, Marion." y “ Never, never, never _!" said she aolomiily. “ ’l‘is false! -—my noble, generous, high-minded liusbaiid ! never! There is a conspiracy; it will all be cleared up. 0 father, unsay those drlpiudfu words: Iwill never leave him, though all the wor forsake him. Let me g) to him father “ Marion," said the old man, “ ‘he_ will be sentenced to a felon‘s cell ; there is no csca for him. _When that takes ‘..'1§‘.’.’i§.'.'§i.'“..‘.".§I';".‘..’i§’r‘i.'u. ‘.a°3l"ll..l.‘3.“.‘.i'a"‘i“°,§..’i‘.”" bi.’-' ' u or im ; is your duty, I c is unwcrtliy your lovb or mine. If not,” sapl the 0I_dflnttitl,lIl&fkIng her compressed lip and heightened co our, “ i no —” -Whh!"‘l\' , ‘: Y0ll“l|tl'¢‘! cliildlgf IIl:l‘li(Oj"ll"al‘tlt'll(‘I1ytho irritated old man, I “ Gugrbplp r|pe,ht_|ieii"!" said Marion: “ for I will never cave n orsa c im. I_f wasa sight. to inovc_ thc stoutcst heart, that fair, delicate woiniin in the prison-cell. Walter started to his - feet, but he did not advance to meet her. There was little need. llsr arms were about his neck, her head upon his breast: Once, twice he essayed to s eak ; but her hand was laid upon his lips--she would not ear, pv_en from his ::1n|’I»I3II1l0Yl: he ‘wilt! hdri:-dh ifrnciiiiit slog: .iii>:’e,i:mi; be closed the door'upon them. “ Some fiend from hell tempted me ” said the wretched ma: ‘qt lap‘: ‘l‘ but the law frees you from me, Marion." sai c r y. H Yours till death!" whisperedbyhe Wbepllfis wife. “ (iodi lgleu your noble heart, arion ! cw I can hear my pun s men . ‘ If " dsoth_loves ii shining mark,” so does malice. Every petty underling who owed Walter Clay a grudge took this opportunity to pay the debt. 'l‘he past was ransacked for s l the lit 0 II nntln of his history: dark hints and lnuendoes where thrown out to rejudioe still more the ' public Mild. There were cows 3 stats in the dark than New Series. No. me. pusillanimous villains who would have been livid with fear ad their victim been free to face them. Reporters nibbsd their pens with an appetite: and the “ extras ' toured with exaggerated accounts of the prisoner and the trial. Even the sacredness of the wife's sorrow was intruded upon by those ravenous must-have-a paragraph gentr . Then there were the usual number of sagacions peo lye, who shook their cinpty heads, and “ alwa s expected would turn out so, because those who hel their heads so high as- rally did." First and foremost were these “ good Saiuaritansl’ at the trial, noting evor flitting expression of the ogonised prisoner-‘s thee, and only wishin it were in their power to prolong his acute sufering an their ex-' puisite enjoyment, months instead ofhours. “ Good enough or him!" was their final doxolo , when the verdict of _ *‘ Guilty“ was rendered. " It wil take his pride down a pa ." 0 most pharissical censors! who s all say that, with equal opportunity and temptation, your vaunted virtue would have better stood the test! “ The worst is over now," said Walter, as Marion bathed his temples. “ I will struggle to bear the rest, since you do not desert inc, Marion. But Nettie— oor, innocent Nettie!" and the strong man bowed his has , and wept at the licritagi of shame for that brave boy. rid so days, and weeks, and months dra d their slow length along to the divided pair : he,in the ivory ofigno- ininy. hearing his sentence as best he might among the dos- perate and degraded, experisncin ever momenta refine- ment of torture of which their dul inte lects and deadened sensibilities knew nothing;she, pointed out as the “ felou’s wife” by the rude crowd, shrinking nervously from notice, trembling at the apprehension of insult, as she toiled on heroically, day by day, for daily bread. Wlionee came that quiet dignity with which Walter Clay exacted respect even from his jailers‘! Ah! there was a true heart throbbing lor him outside those prison-walls. Night] was he remembered in her rayers. Daily she taught their boy to lisp. even now, his Ilatheri name. Like music to his car was that light footstep echoing through the gloomy corridor to his cell. Tenderly those loving arms twined about his neck : sacred and true were the holy words with which she cheered his sinking spirit. Hopefully she painted the future—this trial past—when, in some home beyond the seas, he should yet be the happier for being so chastcned by sorrow, on where no malicious tongue should remind him of his temptation or his fall. Sweetly upon his ear fell those soothing words, first uttered by sacred lips, “ Go and sin no more.” No, Walter Clay was not deserted quite! He was not degraded, even there and thus, while he could hold up his head and boost cfu love so devoted, so pure, so hol ! The hour of emanci ticn came at last, and Walter Clay stepped forth under tic broad blue sky, once more a free man ; and in the little room where the heroic wife had suf- fcrcd and toiled, she once more clasped her husband to her 0‘ H “ And Nettie, where is he! Let the joyful father. “ Where's Nettie. ‘_‘ On the Saviour‘s bosom !" said Marion, with a choking voice. “ Dead? And you have buried this sad secret in your breast, and borne this great grief unshared, lest you should add to in sorrow !” And he kneltat her feet reverently. “ God nows you had enough to bear !" said Marion, as they mingled tieir tears together, and gazed at the ion , bright, golden tress, all that remained to them of lit e is. ppe kiss my boy,” said " What an interesting couple !” said a travelling artist in Italy to his companion “lhat woman's face reminds one of a Madonnu—-so ensive, sweet, and touching. If she would but sit to me . Who are thev, Pietro!” “ They come here about it year since, live in the greatest seclusion, and seem anxiously to avoid all contact with their own countrymen. All the poor peasantry bless them; and Father Giovanni says they are the best people, for heretics, he ever saw.” A 1uo1'rinn’s soLii.ooUr. ‘Tia mine! bound to me by a tie that death itself cannot sever. That little heart shall never thrill with pleasure, or throb with pain, withouta quick response from mine. Inna the centre of its little world; its very life do nds on my faithful care. It is in sweet duty to deck thfisc dimpled linibs—to poise that tiny, trembling foot. Yet st:iy—niy duty ends not here! . soul looks forth from those blue cycs—an undying s irit, that shall lnme its wing for a ceaseless iii ht, gui ed by my erring band. The hot b cod of anger may not poison the fount whence it draws its life, or the hasty word escape my li , in nu; pure presence. Wayward, passionate, II!IpIIIIlV0,%0W shall appropch it but with a hash upon my spirit, and 5 .31.“ raycr. p 0 careless sentinel! slumber not at thy post over in trusting innocence ! 0 reckless “sowsr of the seed!" let not“ the tsrss" spring up ! 0 unit llful helmsman! how shalt thou pilot that little bark, o'er life’s tcmpestuoua sea, safely to the eternal shore! “ "l‘is onrs !" A father bends proudly over that little cradle ! A father's love, how strong. how true! lint oh, not so warm, not so tender, as here whose heart that babe hath lain beneath ! Fit me for that holy trust, 0 good Shepherd, or fold it early to thy loving bosom ! —_—.—n TI-IB INVALID WIFE. " Every wife needs a good stock of love to start with." Don't she! You are upon a sick bed: a little feeble thing lies upon your arm that you might crash with one ha d. You take those little velvet fingers in yours, close our eyes, and turn your head lsn uidly to the lllow. ittle brothers and sisters—Carry, an Harry, and nny, and Frank, and Willy, and Mary, and Kit —-half score —come tiptoein into the room “ to see t s new bsb ." It is quite an ol story to ‘- nurse," who sits there like an automaton, while they give vent to their enthusiastic admi- ration ofits wee toes and fingers, and make pro ' ' ries, which nobody thinks best to hnr. - You a languid smile, and they pass out, asking, " Why can't sta with dear msmma, and why they mustn t pass in a corner, as usual!" You wonder if your 1 ttle own be tied his tippet on when he went to sch , and whet er tty will see that your husband's flannel is aired, and if Peggy has cleaned the silver and ed of an front-door steps, and what your blessed husband is about that he don‘t come home to dinner. There sit; on “pg. keeping u that dreadful tread ill trottin . " to quiet the baby,” til you could fly through the key-ho e in desperation. The odour of dinner he ns to creep up stairs. on wonder if our husband's pnd ing will be made right, and if Istty wil remember to put wine in the sauce, as he likes it; and then the mflpllltioll starts outon nr brehead. as you hear ‘ ““|"|P 5°! !l|0||Ilrs,aada ;ls’s ssppssssslssrean;