Wits’ 
lort-Jfolio. 
A KISS AT THE DOOK. 
[A GOOD old friend sends us the following (which 
we have published before) and says:—'“ Beautiful, 
This '.vlll do to publish once a year.” We think so 
too.—Ens. ltiTKAii New-Yorker.] 
We were standing in the doorway— 
My little wife and I— 
The golden sun upon her hair 
Fell down so silently, 
A small white hand upon my arm, 
What could 1 ask for more 
whan the kindly glance of loving eyes, 
As she kissed me at the door ? 
I know 9 he lores wtth all her heart 
The one who stands beside 1 
And the years haT« been so joyous 
Since first I called her bride! 
We've had so much of happiness 
Since we met in years before, 
But the happiest lime of all was 
When she kissed me at the door. 
Who cares for wealth or land or gold. 
Or fame, or matchless power? 
It does not give the happiness 
Of just, one little hour, 
With one who loves me as her life— 
She says she “ loves me more 
And t thought she did this morning. 
When she kissed me at the door. 
At times u seemed that all the world, 
With all Its wealth and gold, 
Is very small and poor Indeed 
Compared with what I hold ! 
And when the clouds hang grim and dark, 
1 only wait the more 
Of “ one " who walls my coming step 
To kiss me at the door. 
If she lives till nge shall scatter 
The frost upon her head, 
I know she'll love mo just the same 
As the morning we were wed; 
But II the Angela call her 
And she goe9 to Iloiiven before. 
I shall know her when l meet her, 
For she'll kl9s me at the door. 
-- 
AN UNHAPPY PETER. 
I have been very much interested in the 
“troubled Martha” enigma, and am yet 
waiting patiently to see how they will recon¬ 
cile and condole with one another, I for my 
Farmers suppose they will be called proud 
ffllO or st 3’ liah i[ "'y indul g e in a comfortable 
4 ride, and almost feel ashamed to own any- 
_ thing better than a spring wagon. Shame - 
on such pride ! The farmer’s family has a 
’’ right to the very best conveyance that can 
wing (which be bought. It need not he the most grand or 
hink so cost b'’ such as would cause his poorer nejgli- 
Wet hors to stare at, and envy him, but well 
built, and large enough, if possible, to carry 
the whole family. In a few large families 
two may he necessary, but if some of the 
young people are grown up, the boys will 
... need a good buggy besides the family car- 
riage. 
Don’t make two or three of the older 
children walk several miles on a warm sum- 
1 mer day, to and from church, or, depend 
upon it, the hoys will soon prefer going to 
see neighbor Somebody’s hoys, and the girls 
will buy or borrow novels and find a cool 
place to read while pa and ran and the chil- 
> ,d ' (Iren are at church and Sabbath school. 
Nothing hut sickness should prevent the 
whole family from attending church, and 
the habit, formed in childhood will do more 
toward making Christian men and women of 
them, than daily precept without example. 
,rid, Heaven’s choicest blessing must, descend 
upon those who love the gates of Zion. 
A comfortable conveyance will prove a 
nd dark, powerful incentive to punctuality. It living 
several miles from church, the easy going 
Christian can find ready excuse for remain¬ 
ing at home. Tt is too rainy, too muddy, too 
hot, too dusty to ride in a wagon, and with 
this sinful excuse, ho curls down in a cool 
room, and sleeps away the precious hours ol 
, the holy day. 
Wife, having no incentive for hurry, chores 
_ -around till ten o’clock, then sits down, dull 
’ER and languid, wishing tiic long, still day was 
£j ‘ K, ‘ done. She has been at home for weeks, and 
rested in the perhaps months, and if she could only take 
and am yet the children and go to church, it would do 
y will recoil- her good a week to come. She lifts ridden in 
er, l for my the wagon, jolting along with a babe in her 
ieir troubled arms, and two or three little ones sheltering 
octal (Topics. 
OUR ATMOSPHERE. 
BY CHARI.OTTE CORDNER. 
Man’s mind bas atmospheric laws, 
Which all his moods control, 
A king, they reign In every cause 
That, agitates the soul. 
Love Is the sun, which clears the mist 
Which sometimes round It lies, 
And Hope the moon which can assist 
To brighteu midnight skies. 
Faith la the stars which fill the space 
With ni jrlad points ot light. 
When we no more can see Love’s face, 
Amid the gloom of night. 
Passions arc hreoses soft and mild 
Which sway us by their breath, 
Or tempests iu their ravings wild 
Which scatter woe and death. 
Thoughts are the birds which round us range 
To brighten with their song. 
Or discords make with voices strange 
To swell the side of wrong. 
Then if we study nature well 
Ami learn how she controls, 
We soon may gain the magic spell, 
That magnetizes souls. 
No clouds can then our sky obscure, 
No tempests shako our souls, 
Or OiUCEH In their footsteps lure 
Our friends from our control. 
CONCEITED MEN. 
A. class of conceited persons are those 
who find themselves constrained in their 
country life, and feel that, they have not room 
in which to develop all the talents which 
God has committed to their charge. There 
ere long, and their fragments are spewed 
out; and that is all that, there is of their life. 
—Ilenry Ward Beecher. 
--♦-*-*--— 
SOCIAL LIFE AT SARATOGA. 
The following is published as the confi¬ 
dential correspondence of a young lady who 
lias spent, the season at Saratoga : 
“My Dicar Tinny :—T haven’t, written 
you a word about Saratoga, as I promised, 
because, you see, I couldn’t. It is such a 
dear, delightful, hurrying, noisy, disappoint¬ 
ing place. L like it, and 1 don’t like it—I am 
happy in it, and I am not happy. One sees 
everything in the world here hut beaux. 
There is not a beau to he had, for love or 
money. While brother Frederick was 
here, he was such a lion. How the girls did 
hang around him. Even the odious-s, 
who wouldn’t even speak to us in Washing¬ 
ton last winter, came simpering about, the 
hateful things. I told Frbd that he must 
trifle with their young affeclions, and if he 
j didn’t propose to all, then I’d never forgive 
him. The tiresome fellow wouldn't. He 
said it didn’t pay. Tint we did get even with 
them. After Fred went off on his mountain 
excursion, like a stupid, as he is, Laura and 
Lizzie and I got into his trunk. We si nt 
for a locksmith, and 1 told him to open it, as 
our cousin had gone off with the key. lie 
opened it in a jiffy, and what queer things 
we did find In that trunk. T’ll tell you all 
on 
a kbit f I) Reacting. 
AT THE LAST. 
The stream Is calmest when it nears the tide, 
And flowers the sweetest at the eventide. 
And birds must musical at ftlose of day. 
And saints oivimvn when they miss away; 
Morning Is lovelier, but » holler charm 
Lies folded close in evening'* robes of balm ; 
And weary man must ever love her best. 
For ruornftig call* t*»to|l, but night u> rest. 
Coming from heaven, she on her win loth hear 
A Indy fragrance, like the breath of prayer; 
Footsteps of angels follow In her truce. 
To shut till! weary eyes or day In peace, 
All things urn hushed before her as she throws, 
O’er earth and *kV her mantle of repose; 
Tilers is a calm, a beauty, and a power 
That morning knows not, in the evening hour. 
Until the evening wo must weep and toll, 
Plow life’s stern furrow, dig the weedy soil. 
Tread with sad feet onr rough and stormy way, 
And hear the heat and burden of the day. 
Oh ! when our sun is setting, may we glide 
Like summer evening down the golden tide ; 
And leave behind us when we puss away, 
Sweet, starry twilight round onr sleeping clay, 
[nr Interior. 
THOUGHTS BY THINKERS. 
The Religion of Genius. 
TnE Standard says:—-It. is well to bear in 
mind that the religion of genius is not to be 
trusted. Wo must not forget the essential 
and momentous distinction between intellec¬ 
tual apprehension, anil even intellectual sym- 
“ Bui this is not the fun. We got Fred’s 
best clothes out; and then we sent for 
are a great many youth in the country, well John, our coachman, and told him he must 
part can see only one way for their troubled arms, and two or three little ones Biioiiei mg 
spirits. And that way is to marry eomehon- around her, while she held a large umbrella 
est man. But. perhaps T will he answered to ward off tlm hot sun ; but of late, husband 
there are troubled married Marthas as well, se 
Now if you can give us poor mortals a chance fo 
to vent our sad and melancholy thoughts in ol 
the good Rural, T should like to say a word re 
for the troubled Peters, or Peter. T am a m 
troubled Petek, although I have not. he- n; 
trayed my trust. I rise early, and work hard. C 
Dear Rural, if you could only feel the aches 
in my hack and liiuhs, as I drive the cows 
home at night after working lull'd all day, . 
you would see and sympathize with this 
troubled Peter. What is life? What is 
Joy, Happiness, Care, if we have to go on * 
working, working, thinking, thinking for the 
good of our fellow man? “ Let our fellow ^ 
men take care of themselves the same as we ’ 
do,” I suppose would he the motto of the 
troubled Peter. “ Not for Joe ” or rather (l 
Peter I mean. j 
I wish you could sec this troubled Peter ( 
as he now pens these lines to you, getting off, ( 
in the way of ink, the superabundant ( 
thoughts for condolence. If you could see 
our old house cat seated on the chair beside j 
me as if anxious to cast her troubles with 
mine and asking, as plain as cat can ask, if ( 
this world was made for mice to trouble only 
cats. Pussy seems to he the only one who 
understands me. Pussy seems to know that 
I have no drunken father, no indolent thiev¬ 
ing brother to be pointed at. by neighbors as 
an example for their refractory sons; no 
brazen upstart sister who like the-struts 
the street from morn ’till late at night. Are 
these the troubled Martha’s troubles ? Are 
these the heart pains that are gnawing day 
by day the young life of hope away ? Let 
them thank God that none of these are their 
borrowed troubles. Let them he thankful 
that they have the strength and health to 
work. 
But cannot the troubled Marthas find a 
way by which they can lessen the load—a 
way by which their young hearts may prove 
happier? I think they can. Poor pussy 
and I are thankful (aint we puss) for our ex¬ 
istence iu these moving times. As some 
pcet hath said— 
“This world is not a* bad a world 
A» some would like no make It, 
Though whether jjood, or whether bad 
Depends on how we take It. 
For If we scold and fret all day, 
From ilewv morn 'till evening, 
This world will not afford to man, (or woman) 
A foretUMte here ol Heaven.” 
Poor Marthas, and troubled Peters let 
me sympathize with you ! 
An Unhappy Peter. 
-*-*-♦- 
WHAT RURAL WOMEN WRITE. 
seldom lakes the wagon, and she can go on 
foot or remain at home. With no prospect 
of frequently meeting with Christian breth¬ 
ren and sisters, she loses ground, and feels 
unworthy of a place in the church. Her 
name is but a stumbling block to the faithful 
Christian.— Farmer’s W ife. 
More Sympathy for Martha. 
I have not yet left the occupation of teach¬ 
ing, luit being accustomed to spend vacations 
at. home on the farm, I have had very many 
such days of practical experience as Mar¬ 
tha describes, only I have three “big,” 
carcleBB brothers, instead of one brot her G cs, 
to come trucking into the kitchen about 
ten o’clock begging for cake and an early 
dinner. 
When 1 read Martha’s letter I could not 
help shedding tears of both joy and sorrow • 
Of sorrow for tlu; troubled farmer’s daugh¬ 
ters of our country; of joy that I, in my 
misery, have company. 
tired at home, who would grow up to he re¬ 
spectable men—farmers, mechanics, or pro¬ 
fessional men—in their own region round 
about, hut who feel the spirit of a hundred 
men in thorn, and think that the country is 
not large enough, and that, they must emi¬ 
grate to the city. The city is the place for a 
man to find his fortune, they think. 
Far he it from me to say that every man is 
bound to vegetate where the seed sprouted, 
and that no man may go from the country 
to the city, or from the city to the country. 
L would not be understood as saying that 
there shall he no circulation. 1 merely anim¬ 
advert upon those who have this centumes 
cent feeling that there is not room enough in 
the country for them to display the treasure 
of their talents In. They come down to the 
put them on and go with us to the hall. 
Wasn’t that a jolly lark! John, the impu¬ 
dent, fellow, did as we told him—and lie did 
look so handsome, I had half a mind to fall 
in love with him. We introduced him at 
the hall to the odious-s, and told them 
confidentially that he was an English noble¬ 
man in disguise, and we ordered John to lie 
very attentive to the fat one. And so he 
was. If lie only had a little more proper 
talk in him, I believe I would have been 
jealous. We nearly died with laughing, 
once in the evening, when we heard him say 
to ills fat love that it was ‘ ’ orrid ’ot, miss.’ 
pressiou that to have fine thoughts, or he 
able to write or speak fine words, about re¬ 
ligion, is to he religious. Many are true 
Christians who have no such brilliant gifts 
of utterance; many, even, who may he quite 
unable to appreciate the beautiful or the sub¬ 
lime side of Christianity. The saving expe¬ 
rience is meant, iu the Divine Goodness, to 
he such ns that while essentially (me in all 
human souls, every human soul may lie capa¬ 
ble of it. Tile religion of genius is possible 
only to one who possesses genius. The re¬ 
ligion of the heart is, we may thank God, 
possible to every one who has a heart. 
About Fultli. 
Beecher, talking about the prevailing 
definitions of faith, says;—“ There is noth- 
“ After the ball we had them all, .John j U g HO g 00( j but its name may he so dwelt 
nd all, in our parlot', thinking papa was at on }lfl to q () harm. And vital as faith is, we 
the club, and we were having the nicest 
wine cobblers all around, when who should 
city, thousands and thousands more than the come in but papa. \ nu ought to have seen | 
oily wants. It is a pitiful tiling to see the him stare at. John. He looked like Booth 
enormous pressure there is at every open when he sees the ghost., ami poor John 
door of ordinary pursuits, and the overcrowd- looked like the ghost, he was so frightened, 
ed state of the city. It would promote the Lucky for us, dear pupa had been drinking 
morals of the nations if the city were to vomit a little too much, and all he did was to stare 
out one-third of its young population. They and hold his arm, like an elevated pump 
are not wanted. They trample each other handle, while John vanished, 
down in the dust in tlieir competitions. 
During not more than one-third of the year 
can half the force lie employed. During the 
rest of the time, Heaven knows how they get 
a living. Not always reputably nor honest- 
!y_ C ertainIy not, in a manly spirit. And 
believe its name may he ho flinch used as to 
work evil. Whenever any process, any act, 
of the soul, is so much thought about that 
it. is made more prominent than what it acts 
toward, the true working of things is per¬ 
verted. It is through Faith that we come 
to God and Christ. But sometimes we 
wish we could hear less said of “ faith,” and 
more of God and Christ themselves. To 
a man who is learning astronomy you do 
“ This did not prevent our taking him to not gfty Tniic i, u i )0 „| | ) lt . process of sight, you 
t _ lir . 1 !. 1 , 1 tl.r. 47 . . y . t 
the masquerade. We hired a dress —the 
dress of the Black Knight,. You ought to 
see John iu that dress; he looked superb 
with his black mask on and elegant figure. 
He made love all night to fat Mias-, and 
l have often wondered if anvbody ever yet, more are perpetually coming from the I believe it will he a match yet. Isn’t that, 
•* J “ . . .t n f 1 * r -_ _I .. I.. < n A /llllllili* mul 
had such a work-making set of men folks 
as we have, and am really glad to learn that 
there is another such father and brother as 
mine, who seem to think that all the warm 
dinners, cleanliness about the house, and 
everything for their comfort, come by 
chance, and not by any effort of ours. 
country to the city. 
If a man he tough, if a man have two 
men’s force, he may go from the country 
into the city and do well; hut of all places 
| on earth for dependent men, for men of a 
! weak nerve, for men that are not elastic and 
( enduring, the city is the worst. It grinds 
I don’t mean, Mr. Editor, that I am glad up weak men as the mill grinds wheat. It 
there are more such men, bnt that., as there is the last place that they should go to. But 
are such ones, that Martha has been kind hither they conic iu countless multitudes, 
enough to tell us so, thus showing us that having the impression that in the city Cor¬ 
fu n ? If John only knew something, and 
didn’t drop his * Ids’ so horribly, I believe I 
could have loved him myself. I’ll tell you 
how it gels on.” 
- ■+++ -- 
Little Brothers. 
Sisters, do not turn off your younger 
brothers as if they were always in your way, 
talk of the sun and the stars. And to a soul 
seeking its true place, we would say little of 
faith, but much of Christ.” 
The Eye ol’ n Needle. 
The passage from the New Testament, 
“ It is easier for a camel,” etc., has perplexed 
many good men who have read it literally. 
In oriental cities there are in the large gates 
small and very low apertures, called meta¬ 
phorically “ uoedlcs’ eyes,” just as we talk of 
windows on shipboard as “ hulls’ eyes." 
| These entrances arc too narrow for a camel 
to pass through them in the ordinary man- 
and any service which they might ask of nor, or even if loaded. When a loaded 
vou were a burden. Perhaps the. hour may camel has to pass through one of these en- 
" . . . • . 1 _ I* I..L J* I * 
arc sacn ones, iiuu iyiaktua nus own luuu inner nicy cuuiu m tuuuucw muiuiuuMj, - . , . . i AlllM u fl la rum/tvort 
’ . . , , . , - r. , /.nine when over a coffin that looks strangely trances, It kneels down, its loatlis removed, 
enough to tell m so, thus .how,,,g us that having the Impwslon Mint in the.city for- tll „ ,,l, »ml over u ,Mle then il shuffles through on its knees, 
a prairie farmer's wile and daughter has nt tunes go around hogging persons to take on, , Jt y am , . yegU , r( , „ wrllegL » ( | y Dull Gordon from 
tlifl onlv snhere of an nova nee there is to them: that in the city treasures hang like blow when , r, y l . , ' , , ,,..,r 
Carriaees lor Farmers. 
Every farmer who owns fifty acres of 
land ought to own a carriage. This most 
important appendage to the farmer and his 
family is generally the last luxury the old 
worn-out farmer indulges in, a few years be¬ 
fore he dies. He buys the most improved 
farm implements, the finest Cotswolds, the 
pure Chester Whites, and thoroughbred 
Short-Horns; hut the old lumber wagon and 
the faithful old plow horses are good enough 
to go to church. 
the only sphere of annoyance there is to 
fill.— Jennie C — Fairmount, Minn. 
.-- 
Tlivec Kisses. 
I have three kisses In my life, 
So sweet and soered unto me 
That now, till death-dews rest on them, 
My lips shall klssles* be. 
One kiss was given In childhood's hour, 
By one who never gave another, 
In life and death who still shall feel 
That last kiss of my mother. 
The second burned my Ups for years, 
For years my wild heart reeled In bliss 
At every memory of the hour 
When my lips felt young love's first kiss. 
The last kiss of the sacred three 
Had all the woe which e’er can move 
The heart of woman -It was pressed 
Upon the death Ups of my love. 
When lips have felt the dying kiss, 
And felt, the kiss of burning love, 
And kissed the dead—then never more 
In kissing should they think to move. 
( Mrs. B. B. Browning. 
--♦-*-♦- 
Who Should do the Courting. 
Mrs. Stanton thinks that women ought 
to do the courting, because men are vacil¬ 
lating and awkward” in their love making, 
and she “humbly believes that nature in¬ 
tended man for the rough work of life; to 
dig into philosophy, politics, parallelograms 
and potatoes, and humbly to wait in his ma¬ 
terial sphere until selected by the queens of 
the hearthstone.” Don’t the “queens” do 
them; that in the city treasures hang like 
grapes in a vineyard over a trellis, and may 
be had by stretching out the hand. They 
come to tiic city feeling that nimbleness and 
smartness will certainly win here. How 
many, many there are, who come down an¬ 
nually to fall into the pit! 
The most mournful thing in city life is the 
continuous destruction of young men and 
maidens. Because it is so hidden from our 
eyes, because it is so gradual, that we do not 
perceive the stages of it, we are shocked. 
But if a single case should be selected, and 
we should see, as in a dream, the enactment 
which takes place, first from virtue to weak¬ 
ness and vice, and then on to wickedness 
and crime, that one instance would fill us 
with horror. And there are hundreds and 
thousands of instances which we think noth¬ 
ing about, simply because they are so much 
hidden. We know that they are taking 
place; we know that multitudes, green and 
imps with a petulant push, you parted the Cairo, “T saw a camel go through the eye of 
hair, yon bend with blinding tears and sobs a needle— that is, the low arched door of an 
thal'ahake your very soul, while remorseful inclosure. He must kneel and how his head 
memory is busy with the by-gone hours, to creep through; and thus the rich man 
you will wish then that when he came and must humble himself.” 
astol you to Help him in hi, play, or to lilt p - Y<tur ^Z mlly . 
him on your lap ticcaim lin V» toll or ^ R(jv Nokmas Macpeod I shall 
take him out because i, w.uin o j ,y> noT i : r forget the impression made upon me 
had laid aside your hook anil made the little J ^ ^ „ r „, y mlB J ry by „ 
heart glad. AiLtwui * Ijijc a tome. .......i. ,,,!.. whom i had visited, and on whom 
Salutation*. 
When one Englishman meets another, the 
usual inquiry is, “How do you do?” the 
Frenchman would ask, “ How do you carry 
yourself?” the Italian, “ 1 low do you stand ?” 
“How do you find yourself?” is the Ger¬ 
man interrogation; “IIow do you fare ( is 
the Dutch; “How do you perspire?” asks 
the Egyptian; the Chinaman wants to know 
“ How is your stomach?" “ Have you eaten 
your rice?" the Pole, “ How do, you have 
callow, come to the cities, and in the re- y0l1 rself?" the Russian, “ How do you live 
morseless maw of vice and crime are con- on? » w i,n e the Persian salutation is, “May 
sumed. As the larger fishes eat up and de- lliy s h at u>w never be less.” 
stroy the smaller ones, so this great whale- 
city ingurgitates and digests multitudes and About Cbarie* Dickens’ s«... 
multitudes of the young men that were The present Charles Dickens does not at 
brought hither by conceit; by an overween- all resemble his father, but is a quiet, reticent 
Jug self-confidence; by an impression that man, about thirty years old, with hcayiei 
they had the capacity, the power, to sue- features and rounder face than his lather, 
ceed■ by an inordinate sense of their im- He is an industrious worker, ol excellent 
inclosure. He must kneel and how his head 
to creep through; and thus the rich man 
must humble himself.” 
Pruy III Your Family. 
Says Rev. Norman Macleod: —“I shall 
never forget the impression made upon me 
during the first year of my ministry by a 
mechanic whom I had visited, and on whom 
1 urged the paramount duty of family pray¬ 
er One day lie entered my study bursting 
into tears as lie said; ‘ You remember tlmt 
girl, sir; she was my only child. She died 
suddenly this morning; she has gone I hope 
to God. But if so, she can tell Him what 
now breaks my heart—that she never heard 
a prayer in her father’s house, or from her 
father’s lips! O, that she were with me hut 
for one day again!’ ” 
The Croat* of the Christian. 
There is a cross for every Christian— 
something which rends flesh and soul and 
Jesus has said if we hear it not after him, 
we are not worthy ot him. But let us not 
take up some lighter thing in its stead and 
magnify it, nor shrink and falter when the 
burden seems heavy and the way long. 
Soon faith will he lost in sight, tears in 
praise grief in Joy, and crosses will lie ex¬ 
changed for crowns. Let us not complain, 
the selecting now ? They refuse or accept portance, and of their faculty and skill for 
at will, and with a good deal of will, often, getting along in the world. And borne 
toot hither by this conceit, they are destroyed 
IIU tvu ... CUftDffOu ior crowfiw. UGt UD ilUL MmtjMuiu, 
judgment and literary taste, and promises to nor “| a im merit lbr cross-bearing, while dis- 
equtil his father in the conduct of All the charging duties which should be esteemed 
equal ins tai 
Year Round 
among our most precious privileges. 
