’* How can 1 toll you which one?” said father. 
“ Was it Top-knot?” said Bho. 
“ No.” 
** Was It Yellow-legs?” 
“ No, it wasn't Yellow-legs,” said father. 
“ Was it Blackey V” 
"No; It wasn’t Blacky or Whit.ey, either,” 
snitl father. 
‘‘Well, then, I don't euro which one you dirt 
kill." said Fannie, 
"It must have been a very small chicken, 
said Ella. 
Wc grown folks were very lmsy eating, and 
didn’t look at each other. Em.a lmd com¬ 
menced on her third plateful, when sho ex¬ 
claimed ; 
“Well, if this ain't thc/iunifrxt chicken I ever 
did BP&'! I can't tlnrt the wish-bone or any¬ 
thing." 
We didn't answer. A minute after El.r.A’s 
knife and fork went down on the table not very 
Softly I knew what was coming next 
“FAN, do yon know what we are eating?” 
I’onr Fannik, she thought in mi Instant, tier 
knife and fork fell slowly out of her hand. ; the 
large, bl/.ek eyes tilled with tears, and with a 
great soli she ran nut of tin* room. We wore so 
sorry for her, and for Ella, too; only it was so 
funny that lCi.r.A had eaten them and called 
them’good, she could not help laughing herself, 
though she wus crying too. She kept, still till 
fattier had gone out, then burst out. 
“it was a shame to make me eat them. It was 
mean to make a pie of my doves, t suppose wo 
shall have a pie made nut of kitten next!" 
(The old eat laid four In a barrel in the shed, 
I’oor tttllo Fannik fried nil the afternoon, till 
at last Ma nv told her she might look over her 
box of “ pretty filings," as the children called 
them, and have whatever sho wanted most, if 
she wouldn't cry any more. Sin* chose a little 
needle-hook, which M utY gave Her, calling it a 
“peace-offering." I)i the evening I heard them 
tolling it all over. 
'Ml was too had to kill our little pets,’' said 
Fannie. 
" I (ell you what, Kt.i.A, let ns have father ar¬ 
rested for murder." 
“ No, we can't do that." said F.i.j.a ; “ for, you 
know, he didn't kill them himself.' 1 
** Well," said Fannik, “ I tell you what we can 
do. We can have him arrested lor falso-im- 
priBonment, for he shut. them up for Mrs. Clark 
L. i,iii ” 
nv lead pencil. 
THE STORY OF THE FROG, 
That Wanted to be Large as the Ox. 
I met blonde Mollie this morning. She had 
been out among the New Jersey verdure. Her 
eyes sparkled like— anything that sparkle; but 
occasionally I saw an abstract, far-away look in 
them. 1 asked wlmt she was looking at. 
“Mr. Pencil, 1 think you are egotistic and 
conceited." 
“ Wherefore ? " 
“ Because you are always fancying you see 
something in people's faces that they don't care 
to reveal. I don’t like it. I want you to know 
that I can synthesize ns fast as you cun analyze." 
And, with a pout upou her pretty lips, sho 
tossed up her little blonde head and left me! 
Now, what had I done? Poor innocent I! I 
walked on thinking about it. And I know by 
experience and observation How neuto and ac¬ 
curate are the analyses men and women make, 
menially, of each other. It Is not always pleas¬ 
ant, either. That I know from experience, too! 
And this same blonde Moi.lik is as much given 
to such dissection as any woman I know. But 
she was vexed that I should have discovered 
what she, relying upon my stupidity, evidently 
took no pains to conceal. 
There ought to be something philosophical to 
he evolved in this connection ; for instance, is it 
not safe to say that a man's and woman's per¬ 
ception is greater or less in proportion to the 
scope of thetr own experiences. They know 
when other people struggle with themselves if 
they (of the first part) have ever struggled. The 
lines of the face are, many of them, sears 
gained in warfare of one sort or anot her. Some¬ 
times t hese lines indicate present pain ; at other 
thru* they are but scars healed over; they have 
left the marks of pain, but the suffering long 
since ceased. Few are the faces that do not 
carry wounds or scars. And whu does not know 
a sabre cut from the mark a ball leaves ? Who 
does not know the wounds given the heart from 
the sears conscience or remorse Intliets? And 
the eye tells its certain story. It leaves no room 
for doubt t.o those who have learned well the 
alphabet of its language. 
FARMER BROADFIELD’S WIFE 
BY MAJASA 
FROM THK FRENCH OF I,A FONTAINE. 
The laylocks arc in bloom again, 
And Spring has come once more,— 
Draw up your chair, now, MARTHY ANN 
Close to the open door; 
Well, can you b'l'evr ‘tin thirty years 
Of shadow, ratn and shine, 
Sineo me and you together played 
Keep house with Hanxek Kink? 
“ There never did live so unhappy a frog, 
For all I can do Is to sit on a log, 
And grow greener each day. 
I wus born to great-t hings, and should be immense. 
Like m.v neighbor the ox, that lives over the fence.” 
Croaked the frog, “ Uick-a-day ' ” 
“Mr. Ox I Mr. Ox ! If 1 swell myself out, 
Shall l ever develop myself, and he stout 
Like you V ” sighed the frog. 
“ Moo ! Moo I” said the ox, " I am sure I can't tell; 
But hop on the fence, give your very best, swell. 
And we'll see bow you’ll do, neighbor Frog.” 
“ Neighbor O.x, I will do It, Take notice, I beg,” 
Said the frog, when he'd made himself large us 
an egg. 
In his effort forlorn. 
“Am I large enough now?” “No, I don’t think 
’twill do.” 
" I’ll try, Just once more. Mr. Ox.” But In two 
His small breast was torn. 
Good people, this story u moral contains, 
For him, who from envy his station disdains. 
And sighs to be great. 
The world has a need Of us. Just in our place ; 
And to lilt that, place well is a praise, not disgrace, 
Whatever its state. 
Kux. Comings Pierce. 
And she is gone; twas May, you know 
How bad wc felt that day ! 
I never liked to walk again 
Along the mender way ; 
It seemed so sad to leave the world 
When life wit* fresh and green ; 
But then she never lived to know 
The troubles we have seen. 
You've had your troubles, Mahthy Ann, 
The folks have told me so. 
And mine—well, them that’s lived like me 
They arc the ones that know. 
1 can’t tell all them tired years. 
The hard tug, day by day ; 
Your hair Is brown, and mine was then, 
But now ‘tin thin and gray. 
Wc moved out in the Itidge, you know ; 
Our wagon seemed to mo 
Just like a ship, with broad white sails. 
Alone upon the sea. 
For there was not it tree in sight, 
And prairie grass so tall, 
A man horseback beyond that ditch 
You couldn't see at all. 
THE PIGEON PIE 
1 cooked for weeks out in the grass. 
No shelter for my head. 
The wagon cover kept at night 
The dew off of my bed. 
At lust the cabin, rough and small, 
Looked large and grand to me,— 
A shelter from the storms and wind 
of that wild prairie sea. 
The nearest neighbor was four miles. 
The town twenty and more; 
But after white was built half way, 
A school house, shop and store. 
With big OX teams they broke the sod 
And corn and ngur grew; 
And all around the country there, 
tVell folk* was mighty few. 
Father pretended not to hoar. “ They are all 
over everything in the barn, have $igt ruined 
that buckwheat, and I can't stand ttany longer. 
I have got them shut up to-night, ami Mrs. 
Clark will kill them and dross them over there 
for you, if you will make a pie of them to-mor¬ 
row." 
“ Why, yes; 1 suppose I can," said mother, “if 
T can only manage it so the children won’t know 
it; they’ll feel so badly, you know." 
“ Let them go ehestnutting," said Mary. 
“That will do,” answered mother. “They 
wantfd to go to-day. I will let them take their 
dinner, so they'll stay all day, and then ttiey 
won’t know what became Of the doves," 
"Say, Fan,” said Ella, curly the next morn¬ 
ing, “wake up; mother say® we may go chest- 
nutting, and take our dinner.” 
“ flood,” said Fanny, wide-awake in a 
minute. 
“You’d better burry up after breakfast,” 
said Mar v, “so as to have a nice, long day of it. 
I'll do the dishes for you.” 
“Will you? That's good!” sairl Eli.A, for 
“ doing the dishes" was the trial Of her life. 
“ Whal may wo have for dinner, mother?” 
asked Fannie. 
“Oh, get. anyth tug you art* a mind to,” said 
she. “ There's some pie, and some ginger-cakes, 
and take those tarts, if you wont,” 
“l l bought Komcthlnu was lip," said Ella 
afterwards. “You were all so wonderful, good, 
and so anxious we should have a good, long day 
of it!" 
But it did seem as if they would never get 
Started that morning. I do believe all four 
shoestrings broke, and the red basket couldn't 
and nothing else 
ILLUSTRATED REBUS.-No. 5 
non - 
But we lived on, year after year, 
I hardly can tell how. 
And got the land all under fence, 
Though hedges wo have now. 
And somehow men folks hardly thought 
Of women's cares and work,— 
And they were not the kind, them days, 
To turn back, or to shirk. 
As money came, John bought more land 
And kept on hiring men. 
Hut never seemed to see how much 
I needed help, too, then. 
Machines were got. end lots of things 
To make work light out door ; 
I curried wood, and bad no pump, 
No carpet for the floor. 
I tell you, Martha Ann, I bTeve 
Some men make land a curse ; 
They get so much it, turns their head? 
And they grow worse and worse. 
To children's lernln', women's lives. 
They hardly give a thought; 
I’ve sometimes wondered if they think 
That even souls are bought. 
The seven children looked to me ; 
There was one girl, you know*, 
The prettiest, baby of them all— 
Vet shu was first to go : 
Oh, how 1 loved her, but somehow 
I couldn’t hardly cry ; 
My life had been so hard and sad— 
All this she had passed by. 
be found “ 
would do to hold the nuts, and wo expected 
every moment Mrs. Clark would bring in the 
doves, and then! Bul at last the shoes were all 
tied, and riu* basket found, and Fannie ready, 
but where was Ella. 
“Oh. she has found some old paper of course,” 
saul Fannie, “and she must stop and read it. 
Come, Eli.A; Oh, come along. You’ve read 
that old story forty times. T know you have." 
“Do wait one minute, please, Fan," said 
Ella. “ I'll ttnlsh It in one minute.” 
“Oh, dear! just one minute. It’s always the 
way," said Fannie. 
“Come, Ella, I'll save the paper till you 
get home," said Mary. “ Don't keep Fannie 
waiting so.” And at last they were fairly out 
of sight. 
Mrs. Clark brought the birds nil nicely 
dressed, and mother had the pie all ready for 
the oven, when There, I declare,” said Mary, 
“if there ain't the children come back again!’ ’ 
“ Oh, dear, wo shall have a fuss now!” said 
mother. 
“What did you come home for, girls?” asked 
Mary, when they came in. 
“Oh, we didn’t feel like staying one bit," said 
Fannie; “and there wasn't any chestnuts, 
either." 
There was no help for it now, so we must 
make the best of it. Ella caught a glimpse of 
the pie as it went into the oven, and exclaimed : 
“Chicken-pie for dinner 1 Oh, I'm glad 1 
came home." 
“Mother couldn't quite say she was glad, too. 
It wus a wonder Fannie did not go out to feed 
the cloves; but she* didn’t happen to think of it, 
and all went ou right till dinner time. Ella 
took some pie and pronounced it “splendid.'' 
Fannie didn’t out ehlokou, but she wanted to 
know “ Pa, what chicken did you kill?” 
You say I'm living e.a9y uow— 
I know it., Marthy Ann ; 
But money wuu't buy me new health, 
As it bought that dish pan. 
My boy*. I couldn't bring ’em up 
Accordin’ to my way; 
You cun't change men : I’ve tried it, sure 
For many a weary day. 
You can't lorglt, Jest as you will; 
When Sunday mornings come, 
I alius think of those long days 
Out in that prairie home. 
Oh, how I wanted meetins then ; 
Ten mites across the creek, 
Sunday, they ooutdn't-drlve a team, 
Though they went every week. 
Of all hard things of them bard years. 
This wore the deepest in; 
I can’t forgit—l wish 1 could,— 
The bitter wrong and sin. 
If only once in a three months, 
The preacher’s words of prayer 
ITad fallen on my cars. I’ve thought 
1 could have lived on there. 
1ST Answer in two weeks 
Note to the Katies.— “ Katie” asks us to ask 
the Katies who study this department to send 
each a riddle to the Editor, to he published as 
“The Katies’ Riddles,” II found worthy. She 
says:—“ Girls, lot, us sec who bearing our name 
can send the most difficult, and yet the best one." 
BIBLE QUESTION. No. 1 
What did Plmroah cull Joseph's name? 
5 a’s, 3 h's, 2 p's, 2 n’s, 1 i, 11, 1 z. 
fW Answer in two weeks. e. j. r. 
You wonder. Marthy Ann, I’d tell 
All this to even you ; 
The creek will only hold so much. 
And then the dam breaks through 
If you knew all, you’d wonder more 
That women hear so long 
In country home*, where many find 
Such hardship, toll and wrong. 
PUZZLER ANSWERS.-July 20 
Illustrated Keuus No. 3. Be abovo med¬ 
dling in a family between man and wife. 
Hidden Islands No 1. — Orleans, Formosa, 
Cuba, Malta, Long, Borneo. 
Cross-Word Enigma No. L—Courage. 
Botanical Riddles No. 1 -1, Tea; 2, Hop; 
3, Beech ; 4, Slippery Elm ; 5, (to be supplied by 
sonic one at request of uuthor): 8. Bay; 7, Pine; 
8, Yew; it. Cane; 10. Date; 11, Basswood; 12, 
Honeysuckle; 13, Judas; It, Peach; 15, Fir; 10, 
(author requests some one to supply it); 17, 
Broom; 18, Cypress. 
But let us talk of something else; 
I know my blood runs high 
Whenever women's wrongs come up 
But better days are uigh. 
And even fur the broken lives 
The Master rest can bring, 
And Joy may bud and bloom again, 
Like laylocks in the Spring. 
