'V 
0 ¥. 21 . 
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MSMOIU OF TITR Lifr »sn ClIARAOTKR of Hon. Thro. 
Fhrliyohityskn, LL. 1> By Tai.uot W. Chambers, 
A Minister of (lie Collegiate OhUrch, New York. [pp. 
239.] New York: Harper & Brothors. 
Very much have we been interested in the perusal of 
Mr. Frkunghuyse.n's biography, and we would that all 
the youth of our land tniglit havo the privilege of study¬ 
ing his characteristics as they could not but be influenced 
by the unexampled excellence bis lifo portrayed. The 
autho? wns a relative of Mr. F., and for more than twenty 
years enjoyed a considerable degree of Intimacy with 
him, and is enabled, therefore, to speak from personal 
observation. It was the aim of Mr. Chambers to give, 
in moderate compass, as jnst and accurate an account of 
the growth and development of this remarkable man as 
could bn ohtained by patient and diligent inquiry, and the 
author’s task has been agreeably performed. For sale by 
SrKKLK & Avkry. 
Cn rbstOmattiik Frakoaisk A French Heading Book: 
Containing, l. Selections from the best French Writers, 
with Keferencps to the Author’s French Grammar. II 
The Master Pieces of Moliere, Racine, Boitrau and 
Voltaire With Explanatory Notes, Biographical No 
tieoi. and a Vocabulary. By Wu.i.rAM I K.vafi’, A. M., 
Professor of Modern Languages and Literature In Mad 
i»on Univerily. |12mo —pp. 480.] New York: Harper 
& Brothers. 
work—containing many excellent reading exercises We 
eommend it to all who ure studying the French language 
and literature. STKKLB & Avert have it. Price $1,25. 
Harry’s Vacation; Or, Philosophy at Home. By Wu.- 
i,i.AM C. Richards, A. M. Author's Revised Edition. 
[16mo.—pp. 398.] New York: 0. Appleton & Co. 
This is a revised editiou of an admirable juvenile work 
first published near a decade of year* ago. We hailed it, 
in its neat style, with pleasure, and have perused it with 
much Interest. Would that every school-boy, aye, and 
girl also, could po“*ess a copy;—it would certainly bo read 
with pleasure ami profit The copy before us shall speed¬ 
ily go to our "Harry”—now absent from the paternal 
roof for the first time, and homesiekbigly anticipating 
(we doubt not I the Holiday Vacation, which is rapidly 
approaching. Ah I the tears till our eyes as we think of 
the dear, wide-awake boy—whom we were wont to chide 
when near, hut who has our sincere aspirations while 
away—and our heart throbs in sympathy with the author 
of this entertaining and instructive volume. Sold in 
Rochester by Stkki.k & Avkry. 
Wk.ntmiv.stkr Hkvikw. October, 1803. New York: 
Leonard Scott & Co. 
The articles in this magazine are—The French Con 
quest in Mexico; Romola; Miracles; Gervinus on Shalt- 
speare; The Treaty of Vienna—Poland; Wit and Humor; 
Thu Critical Character; Victor Hugo; Mackay's Tubingen 
School and Contemporary Literature. To the Atneri<:nu 
•eadcr the Initial article of the present issue possesses 
geat interest. A leading English journalist says that the 
atthor with knowledge of the dark transaction, as perfect 
as an ho obtained from public documents, and in a style 
of Lual simplicity and force, has tracked through Its do- 
vetojment of perfidy and blood the monstrous design of 
creatiiga French province on the Southern frontier of 
the Unted States. 
Broken Columns. [12mo.—pp. 558 ] New York: Shel¬ 
don & to. 
Tina is aqueer work—a novel which evidently intends 
to demonstrtc that every one has defects in character, 
that no one i, perfect, and that leniency should be exhib¬ 
ited to the ciring Though endorsed strongly by high 
literary authority, we greatly question the tendency of its 
teachings. S»kl by Sfkki.b & Avkry 
At Homs anh Abroad; Or, IIow to Behave. By Mrs. 
Manners, author of 11 Pleasure and Profit.” jltimo.— 
pp. 105 ] New York: 1). Appleton & Co. 
An excellent work for juveniles. Most of its chapters 
were first published in a Juvenile magazine and received 
with high favor, nod the volume Is issued at the earnest 
solicitation of many friends of the author. For sale by 
SrBBLK 1c Avkry. 
PtEAi TRi and Profit; Or Lessons on the Lord’s Prayer: 
In a Si'ivs of Stories. By Mrs. Manners, (pp. 136.] 
New Yoik: D. Appleton Sc Co. 
ANOTHBRadmtrablc little work for the young—just the 
thing for a holiday present. We shall make it a conspic¬ 
uous object On the Christmas Tree for the little ones of 
our home circle. Sold by Struck & Avert. 
Live It Down. A Story of the Light Lauds. By J. C. 
Jbaffbrson. A Novel. (8vo.—pp. 248.] New York: 
Harper & Bros. 
This is No. 233 if Harpers’ “ Library of Select Nov¬ 
els.” It has a good look and title, but we have not given 
it a perusal. Sold by Stkklk & AVERT. 
Stranoe Stories or a Dbteotivb: Or, Cariosities of 
Crime. By a Retired Member of the Detective Police, 
[8vo.—pp. 184.] New York: Dick ilc Fitzgerald. 
A series of wouderful sketches which will interest 
many readers, aud especially thoic of the inquisitive order, 
who have a penchant for tiac marvelous. [ From the Pub¬ 
lishers. 
Gkrvahb Cabtonei.; Or, The Six Gray Powders. By Mrs. 
Henry Wood, author of “ East Lynne,” &c. [8vo.— 
pp. 96.] New York: Dick & Fitzgerald, 
An exciting tale by a popular writer, Those who have 
read “East Lynne ” will require no urging to procure and 
peruse this work. 
Light. By Helen Modet. [12mo.—pp. 339.) New 
York. D. Appleton & Co. 
An Interesting moral tale, and worthy of commenda¬ 
tion. Sold by Steele & Avert. 
Americans in Rome. By Hknrv P. Lkland. [16mo.— 
pp. 311. J New York: Clias T. Evans. 
This is a book which will interest all who are fond of 
perusiog works which relate to incidents of foreign travel 
and adventure. Sold by D. M. Dewey. 
Books Received. 
Hibtory op the Romans Under the Empire. By Cuas. 
MxkivaLE, B. D., late Fellow of St. John’s College, 
Cambridge. From the fourth London Edition. With 
a copious Analytical Index. Two Volumes. New 
York: D. Appleton & Co. For sale by Steele & Avert 
A Catechism of the Steam Engine in its various sppli 
cations to Mines, Mills, Steam Navigation, Railways, 
and Agriculture. With Practical instructions for the 
Manufacture and Management of Engines of every 
class. By JOHN Bociink, C. E. New and Revised 
Edition [pp. 419.J New York: D. Appleton 6c Co. 
Bteble & Avkry. 
History of Frederick the Second, called Frederick the 
Great. By Thomas Carlyle. In Four Volumes — 
Vol. III. *|12mo.— pp. 696.] New York: Harper & 
Brothers. Rochester—S tkki.k & Avkry. 
The Boos op Days a Miscellany of Popular Antiquities 
in connection with the Calendar. Including Anecdote, 
Biography and History, Curiosities of Literature, and 
Oddities of Human Life and Character. Edinburgh: 
W. R. Chambers. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott & Co. 
WAR PICTURES.-LIFE IN THE CAMP, 
Benjamin F, Taylor, of the Chicago Jour¬ 
nal, is writing from the Army of the Cumber¬ 
land sketches of life in the camp and field, 
which surpass, in vivid coloring, anything we 
have seen. Here are some of his pictures: 
SELF-RELIANCE OF WESTERN SOLDIERS. 
If there are men in the world gifted with the 
most thorough self-reliance, Western soldiers are 
the men. To fight in the grand anger of battle, 
seems to me to require le3S manly fortitude, after 
all, than to bear without murmuring the swarm 
of little troubles that vex camp and inarch. No 
matter where or when you halt, there they are 
at once at homo. They know precisely what to 
do first, and they do it 1 have seen them march 
into a strange region at dark, and almost as soon 
as fires would show well, they were twinkling 
all over the field, the Sibley cones rising like the 
work of enchantment everywhere, and the little 
dog-tents lying snug to the ground, as if, like the 
mushrooms, they had grown there, and the aro¬ 
ma of coffee and tortured bacon, suggesting 
creature comforts, ami the whole economy of a 
Ufa in canvas cities moving as steadily on as if it 
had intermitted. The movements of regiments, 
you know, are as blind as fate. Nobody can tell 
to-night where he will be to-morrow, and yet 
with the first glimmer of morning the camp Is 
astir, and the preparations begin for staying 
there forever; cozy little cabins of red cedar, 
neatly fitted, are going up; here a boy is making 
a fire-place, and quite artistically plastering it 
with the inevitable red earth; ho has found a 
crane somewhere, and swung up thereon a two- 
legged dinner pot; there a fellow is finishing out 
a chimney with brick from an old kiln of seces¬ 
sion proclivities; yonder a bower house closely 
woven of evergreens is almost ready for the 
occupantp; tables, stools, bedsteadp, are tumbled 
together by the roughest of carpenters; the ave¬ 
nues between the lines of tents are cleared and 
smoothed— “policed,” in camp phrase —little 
seatH with cedar awnings in front of the tents 
give a cottage look; while the interior, in a rude 
way, has a genuine home-like air. The bit of a 
looking-glass bangs against the cotton wall; a 
handkerchief of a carpet just before the “ bunk” 
marks the stopping-off to the land of dreams; a 
violin case is strung up to a convenient hook, 
flanked by a gorgeous picture of some hero of 
somewhere,- mounted upon a horse rampant and 
saltant, “and what a length of tail behind!” 
The business of' living has fairly begun again. 
But at 5 o’clock some dingy morning, obedient, 
to sudden orders, the regiments march away in 
good cheer; the army wagous go streaming and 
swearing after them; the beat of the drum grows 
fainter; the last straggler is out of sight; the 
canvas city has vanished like a vision. On such 
a morning, and amid such a scene, I have loitered 
till it seemed as if a busy city had passed out of 
sight, leaving nothing behind for all that life and 
light but empty desolation. Will you wonder 
much if I tell you that I havo watched such a 
vanishing with a pang of regret; that, the tram¬ 
pled field lodfted dim to me, worn smooth and 
beautiful by the touch of those brave feet whose 
owners have trod upon thorns with song—feet, 
alas, how many, that shall never again in all 
this coming and going world make music upon 
the old thresholds! And how many such sites 
of perished cities this war has muds, how many 
bonds of good-fellowship have been rent to be 
united no more! 
UECONNOIHHANCE ON “PRIVATE ACCOUNT.” 
Every wood, ravine, hill, field, is explored; 
the productions, animal and vegetable, are in¬ 
ventoried, and one day renders these soldiers as 
thoroughly conversant with the region round 
about as if they had been dwelling there a life¬ 
time. They have tasted water from every spring 
aud well, estimated the corn to the acre, tried 
the watermelons, gagged the peaches, knocked 
down the persimmons, milked the cows, roasted 
the pigs, picked the chickens; they know who 
lives here and there and yonder, the wherea¬ 
bouts of the native boys, the names of the native 
girls. If there is a curious cave, a queer tree, 
a strange rock any when- about, they know it. 
You can see them with the chisel, hammer and 
haversack, tugging up the mountain or scram¬ 
bling down the ravine in a geological passion 
that would have won the right hand of fellow¬ 
ship from Hugh Miller, aud home they come 
laden with specimens that would enrich a cab¬ 
inet I have in my possession the most exqui¬ 
site of soil buds just ready to open, beautiful 
shells, rare minerals, collected by these rough 
and dashing naturalists. If you think the rank 
and file have no taste for the beautiful, It is time 
you remembered of what material our armies are 
made. Nothing will catch a soldier’s eye quicker 
than a patch of velvet moss, or a fresh little 
flower, and many a letter leaves the camp en¬ 
riched with faded souvenirs of these expeditions. 
I said that nothing will catch an old cam¬ 
paigner's eye quicker than a flower, but I was 
wrong,—a dirty, ragged baby will. 1 have seen 
a thirteen dollar man expend a dollar for trin¬ 
kets to hang about the dingy neck of an urchin 
that at home and three years ago he would not 
have touched with the tongs. Do you say, It is 
for the mother’s sake? You have only to see the 
bedraggled, coarse, lank, tobacco-chewing dam— 
is it wicked for me to use that word in such a 
fashion?—to abandon that idea, like a foundling, 
to the tender mercies of thfc first door-step. 
COFFEE IN THE ARMY. 
Some wise man proposed in Congress, you 
remember, the substitution of tea for coffee in the 
army, and told the people that the soldiers would 
welcome the change. A tolerably fair specimen 
of theoretical, stay-at-home wisdom, but not 
worth a Sabbath-day’s journey of the Queen of 
Sheba to look at Why, coffee is their true 
aqua Vila ;,—their solace aud mainstay. When a 
boy cannot drink his coffee you may be sure he 
has done drinking altogether. On a march, no 
sooner is a halt ordered than little fires begin to 
twinkle along the line; they make Coffee in five 
minutes, drink it in three, take a drill at hard 
cracker and are refreshed. Our comrades from 
“der Rhine” will squat phlegmatically any¬ 
where, even in line of battle. No sooner has the 
storm swept to some other part of the field than 
the kettles begin to boil, and amid stray bullets 
aud shattered shell they take great, swallows of 
heart and coffee together. It is Rhiue wine, the 
soul of Gambriuus, “Switzer” and “Limberg” 
in one. 
UOW THE SOLDIERS SLEEP. 
You would, I think, wonder to See men lie 
right down in the dusty road, under the full 
noon Bun of Tennessee and Alabama, aud fall 
asleep in a minute. I have passed hundreds of 
such sleepers. A dry spot is a good mattress; 
the Haps of a blanket quite adowuy pillow. You 
would wonder, I think, to see a whole army 
corps, as I have, without a shred of a tent to 
bless themselves with, lying anywhere and every¬ 
where in all-night rain and uot a growl nor n 
grumble. I was- curious to see whether the 
pluck and good nature were washed out of them, 
aud so I made my way out of the snug, dry 
quarters I am ashamed to say I occupied, at five 
In the morning, to see what water had done with 
them. Nothing! Each soaked blanket hatched 
out as jolly a fellow as you wish to see- muddy, 
dripping, half floundered, forth they came, wring¬ 
ing themselves out as they went, with the look 
of a troop of “wet down” roosters in a full rain 
storm, plumage at, half mast, but hearts trumps l 
every time. If they Hwore—and some did—it j 
was with a laugh; the sleepy fires were stirred 
up; then came the—coffee, and they were as 
good as new. “Blood is thicker than water.” 
HOW WASHING IS DONE IN PARIS. 
From sheer curiosity, just follow my “wash¬ 
ing” in its perambulations through the city. A 
young girl takes it from my room and carries it 
to the establishment, of her mistress. Ilere 
every article is marked with a bit of thread. 
Thence it travels to the river, at the dirtiest por¬ 
tion of it, where the city sewers disembogue 
their foul contents. At this delightfully selected 
spot are large houses, built on boat-shaped foun¬ 
dations, two hundred feet long or more, two sto¬ 
ries in height, and provided with windows, chim¬ 
neys, and other conveniences, like common 
dwellings ou the land. The lower story floor is 
nearly even with the water’s edge, and open to 
the air. On this platform aro to be seen some 
hundred or two women in each of these estab¬ 
lishments engaged in cleansing linen. 
One should never allow himself, even for a 
moment, to imagine that the chattel is his own, 
which be observes undergoing the torture of 
purification; the consequences would assuredly 
be fatal to Ills peace o! mind. When a man 
beholds his house burning up, he is in some sort 
reconciled to his misfortunes by witnessing the 
manly efforts put forth by generous firemen to 
rescue his property. But, he.is reduced to posi¬ 
tive despair when he views the wanton exertions 
made to annihilate his nice shirts, and without, 
any apparent compunctious of conscience. But 
labor ia cheaper than soap, and therefore it is 
used with greater freedom. Economy is duly 
attended to; but it is the economy of soap, and 
uot of linen. Fuel, as well as soap, is so dear 
that no one thinks of ever boiling the “white 
things,” as in the United States. In the place of 
the former they use l’eau de javelle, which is 
nothing more or less than lye, and so strong as 
to flay the hand which touches it. This is ap¬ 
plied without mercy. 
After this corrosive ablution, they are pounded 
with a wooden hammer till every button on the 
shirt is broken, a signal that they have been 
beaten enough. The poor victim is not, yet 
entirely dispatched; there aro still some remains 
of vigor left. This is soon dissipated, for it is 
next laid on a board, and a brush of still’ bristleB 
is energetically applied by a lusty woman. It is 
then rinsed iu the yellow river, conveyed to a 
room overhead, and dried, returned to the first 
hands to be starched and Ironed, and in a few 
days the bundle of rags is brought home to the 
unconscious proprietor, who pays about six sous 
for the transformation, and consigns it to the 
paper maker. Two sons are charged apiece for 
a similar conversion of collars, handkerchiefs, 
and hose. The consequence of all this is, that 
dirty shirts are so excessively numerous as to 
become almost distinctive in a gentleman. To 
mark them with indelible ink is perfectly use¬ 
less; after such a process even Kidder’s is not 
invincible .—Spare Hours in Paris. 
GANGRENE AND OXYGEN. 
A remarkable instance of the advantage 
which medical men may derive from chemistry, 
has been published in the reports of the hospital 
Hotel Dieu, at Paris. A young student wrote a 
thesis, in which he showed that gangrene and 
deficiency of oxygen were to be regarded as 
cause and effect. Dr. Dangler, surgeon-in-chlef 
of the hospital, having a case of spontaneous 
gangrene under his care, proceeded to test the 
theory. The patient, a man seventy-five years 
of age, had the disease in one foot, one toe was 
mortified, and the whole was in dai ger. The 
diseased part was enclosed in an apparatus con¬ 
trived to disengage oxygen continuously, and in 
a short time the gangrene was arrested, and the 
foot recovered its healthy condition. A similar 
experiment tried upon another patient equally 
aged, was equally successful, from which the 
inference follows that treatment with oxygen ia 
an effectual remedy for a disease which too often 
infests hospitals. 
For those who wish to Irani French this is a valuable 
f.M til ffblltg. 
NEW ENGLAND THANKSGIVINGS. 
Blessed are the family reunions of a New 
England Thanksgiving! From far and near the 
wanderers come flocking back to the old home¬ 
steads like stray sheep and lambs to the fold. 
Otto and another flies back like the dove to the 
ark, haviug ranged wide over the open sea, but 
finding no rcRt or shelter like where the tired 
wings are once more folded for a little while. 
The returning prodigal feels new attractions in 
home just now, and reciprocates the paternal 
welcome till il iutter in over. And here the weary 
heart rolls off at last bunions that would cling to 
it elsewhere, and feels once again grateful and 
joyous. It has been a week of busy preparation 
in kitchen and pantry, and out-of-doors the tur¬ 
keys and chickens have waxed too fat to gobble 
or crow. The Yankee house-wife is now iu her 
element—deep to her olbowB in dough-and to¬ 
morrow she will be swaying her broom proudly 
as the queen her scepter. Perhaps she is the 
mother of grown-up sons and daughters that 
have gone forth one by one to rear families of 
their own; but she feels young as the youngest 
of them now, and divides her heart between her 
offspring and her pies for Thanksgiving. 
But it may bo that the young are filling the 
places of the old, and as young men and maid¬ 
ens, old men and children, gather about the fes¬ 
tive board, the dim eyes of age are brigli toned, 
and the waning strength renewed by this genial 
reunion. The dainties of the feast are longingly 
culled out for the aged pair, and there they sit 
cozily enjoying them as bees their honey. The 
grandchildren by their side are as busy, too, as 
bees, feeling just now that it is more blessed to 
receive than give, and making the best of the 
opportunity that only comes round for them onoo 
a year. Little ones these are, but large places 
they fill in the heart, aud big ravages they are 
making in that chicken pie and plate of tarts. 
How bright and genial ia the home circle on 
Thanksgiving evening! From city and country, 
high places and low, the scattered links are once 
more joined in one golden chain that years have 
only drawn the closer. The wrinkles aro all 
smoothed out, and the hoary head shines like a 
crown of glory. Bloom comes again to the 
faded cheek, and sunshine to the clouded brow. 
Every tongue is loosened, and the sternest, fea¬ 
tures relax, while the old folks give their expe¬ 
rience and the young do likewise, and both vie 
in jest and story-telling. All sit up late but the 
grandchildren, who early sink to sleep, to dream 
of roast turkey and the nightmare. 
CALICO PRINTING. 
The printing of calico is attained by tho web 
passing over brass cylinders about six inches in 
diameter, upon which the print or figures aro 
engruved. These cylinders or rollers, having a 
length equal to the width of the web, revolve in 
the ink or paste which is to give the desired 
color. The web is at the same time passing over 
these rollers. But boforo the roller reaches the 
cloth, it has passed over a scraper so nicely that 
every particle of this coloring matter has been 
removed except what is in the interstices of the 
engraved figure, so that when the cloth passes 
over, it epongeH this dye from out these inter¬ 
stices, and thus bears away the figure. For each 
different color it must pass over a cylinder a 
separate time, since but one color can be im¬ 
printed at one time. So, if a piece of calico Is 
to have three different colors, it must have as 
many passages over as many different cylinders 
—each one given its specific figure. The machi¬ 
nery for this, it will at once bo seen, must be of 
the moat exact kind, and its working conducted 
with great skill. From the time a piece of cloth 
enters the mill, its washings and its soakings, its 
printings and its dyeing, its surgings and its 
murgingB, until it comes to its foldings and its 
turnings, are very numerous. 
A Natural Curiosity. —A remarkable natu¬ 
ral curiosity has just beeu made accessible to 
tourists in Switzerland. A stupendous stalactite 
cavern had long been known to exist in the 
Valais, near St Maurice, where it Is called tho 
Grotto-aux-Fees; but, from the difficulty of 
reaching the spot, it has rarely been visited. A 
road has now been constructed, and this grotto 
has become one of the principal points of inter¬ 
est to travelers in the country. The Grotto-anx- 
Fees is already penetrated to a distance of nearly 
two miles, and has not yet been entirely ex¬ 
plored. The roof Is one mass of stalactites, 
assuming the most capricious forms; while the 
ground presents the appearance of the dried bed 
of a torrent—studded, in various places, with 
large stalactites. 
■ ■■ " - ■ — 
Coal and Steam Power.— In a paper read 
before the British Association on the Coal aud 
Coke Trade of the North of England, Mr. Nich¬ 
olas Wood said it had been calculated that an 
acre of coal four feet iu thickness produced as 
much carbon as 115 acres of full-grown forest, 
and that a bushel (84 lbs.) of coal consumed 
carefully, was capable of raising 70,000,000 lbs. 
one foot high, and that the combustion of two 
pounds of coal gave out power sufficient to raise 
a man to the summit of Mont Blanc. The aggre¬ 
gate steam power of Great Britain he sets down 
at 83,035,214 horse-power, or equal to 400,000,000 
of men. 
Fifteen Major and Brigadier-Generals fell in 
the battles before Chattanooga, fighting against 
the government to which they owed allegiance. 
The following is a list of the killed:—Maj.-Gen. 
Hood, mortally wounded; Brig.-Gen, Preston 
Smith; Brig.-Gen. Wolford; Brig.-Gen. Walt¬ 
hall; Brig.-Gen. Deshler. The wounded were 
as follows:—Maj.-Gen. Gregg, Maj.-Gen. Pres¬ 
ton, Maj.-Gen. Clairborne, Brig-Gen. Adams, 
Brig.-Gen. Brown, Brig.-Gen. Bunn, Brig.-Gen. 
John Helm, Brig.-Gen. John C. Brown. 
REAL COURAGE, 
Boys and girls, as well as men and women, 
are apt to sometimes mistake prudence for cow¬ 
ardice, and yet. no two qualities can be more dif¬ 
ferent. 
“Pooh!” said a rough boy, once to his more 
gentle cousin, “I do believe, John, you’re afraid 
to go uoar that horse just because he isn’t tied.” 
“There is no need of my going near him, 
Stephen,” was tho reply, “and there is danger 
ol his kicking any one who teases him use¬ 
lessly.” 
“ Ha! ha! ” shouted Stephen, “you’re a bruvey, 
now, ain’t, you? The idea of being afraid of a 
horse!” and with a taunting look at John, tho 
foolish boy walked up to the grazing animal and 
poked him with n stick. The horso gave an 
uneasy start, but continued pulling at the grass. 
“Bee here!” exclaimed Stephen, growing 
bolder,” if you’ll promise not to faint, John, 
I’ll present you with a lock of his tail in a 
minute.” 
John did’nt faint, hut Stephen did; for as he 
stealthily approached tho horso in the rear, the 
animal bounded away, after performing a flourish 
with his hoofs that, laid his tormentor senseless 
in the dusk 
John tried hard to restore Stephen to con¬ 
sciousness. Ho loosened his clothing, nibbed 
his hands and feet, and bringing water in his cap 
from a pool near by, dashed it on the boy’s white 
face, but all in vain—there were no signs of life. 
The nearest house was their own home, a quar¬ 
ter of a mile distant. John felt that not a mo¬ 
ment must be lost. He approached the now quiet 
home, aud leaping upon his back rode swiftly, 
without saddle or bridle, to his uncle’s house for 
help. 
When, after a long illness Stephen recovered, 
he was a wiser boy, and told his cousin that he 
really believed the horse had managed to knock 
a little common sense into him. “And what a 
dunce l must have beeu John,” he added, “to 
fanoy you were afraid of that horse!” 
THE THREE SIEVES. 
“O mamma!” cried little Blanche Philpott, “I 
heard such a tale about Edith Howard. I did 
not think she could have been so naughty. One 
day—” 
“My dear,” interrupted Mrs. Philpott, “before 
you continue we will see if your story will pass 
the three sieves.” 
“What does that mean, mamma?" Raid 
Blanche. 
“ I will explain it, dear. In the first place, is it, 
true?” 
“ I suppose so, mamma. I heard it from Miss 
Parry, who said a friend of Miss White’s told her 
the story; aud MisH White is a great friend of 
Edith’s.” 
“And does she Rhow her friendship by telling 
tales of her? In tho next place, though you can¬ 
not prevo it is true, is it, kind?” 
“1 did not, mean to bo unkind, mamma, but I 
am afraid I was. I shoe Id not like Edith to speak 
of me as I have spoken of her.” 
“ And Is It necessary?” 
“ No, of course, mamma; there was no need for 
me to mention it at all.” 
“Then, dear Blanche, pray that your tongue 
may be governed, and that you may not indulge 
in evil speaking, and strive more aud more to 
imitate the meekness of your Lord ami Saviour 
Jesus Christ. 
STRING OF PEARLS. 
Labor is the parent of all the lasting wonders 
of tins world, whether in verse or stone, whether 
poetry or pyramids. 
Everybody sits in judgment on a dirty sin; 
but cleau it, dress it, and there are ten thousand 
people who think It not so sinful alter all. 
Tiik memory of good and worthy actions give 
a quicker relish to the soul than ever it could 
possibly take in the highest enjoyments of 
youth. 
There are men whose presence infuses trust 
and reverence; there are others to whom we 
have need to carry our trust and reverence ready 
made. 
Envv, if surrounded on all sides by the bright¬ 
ness of another’s prosperity, like the scorpion, 
confined within a circle of tire, will sting itself to 
death. 
Word worship and act worship have t-helr dif¬ 
ferent values! People who suppose that a good 
prayer is preferable to a good act, doubtless imag¬ 
ine that God has more hearing than eyesight. 
The end, we fear, will show that they reasoned 
from false premises. 
In every noble heart burns a perpetual thirst 
for a nobler; in the fair for a fairer; it wishes to 
behold Its idea out of itself in bodily presence, 
with glorified or adopted form, in order the more 
easily to attain it, because the lofty mass can 
ripen only by a lofty one, as diamond can be pol¬ 
ished only by diamond. 
"" - 
Little Kindnesses.— “Mother,” said a little 
girl, “I gave a poor beggar child a drink of 
water and a slice of bread, and it made me so 
glad, I shall never forget it.” Now children can 
do a great many things worth a “thank yon." 
Kind offices are everywhere and at all times 
needed; for there are always sick ones, poor ones, 
beside dear ones, to make happy by kiudness, 
and it, goes further toward making home happy 
than almost anything else. t Kind offices aro 
within everybody’s reach, like air and sunshine, 
and If anybody feels fretful, and wants a medi¬ 
cine to cure It, do a “thank you's” worth of kind < 
offices every hour you live and you will be cured 
It is a wonderful sweetener of life. i 
