AUS. 3 
SWOOBE’S BUBAL WE W-YOBKEB. 
Jfedigs' foijtfolio. 
HER FACE. 
BY ALICE D. LINDSLEY. 
It minds me of a valley 
Where the slow 
Of sunsets from the mountains 
Rare doth grow. 
Though lying where the shadows 
Come and go, 
A fairer sight than this, I 
Do not know; 
For 1 have seen the sunlight’s wondrous touch 
Upon It fall, and for another such 
Dear home of bliss. 
Long years of waiting would not seem too much. 
So o'er her face the light and 
Shadows play; 
So little light, but shadows 
Cold anil gray 
Hang over It, and try to 
Shut away 
The blessed sunlight that from 
Day to day 
Shines full on other lives that heed It not. 
O precious life ! to me without a blot, 
When light shall come. 
Thy patient waiting shall not be forgot. 
-- 
CHEERFULNESS. 
The world goes up and the world goes down, 
And the sunshine follows the rain ; 
And yesterday’s sneer and yesterday's frown 
Can never come over again, 
Sweet wife, 
No, never come over again. 
For woman is warm though man be cold, 
And the night will hallow the day; 
Till the heart which at even was weary and old 
Can rise in the morning gay, 
Sweet wife, 
To Its work in the morning gay. 
[0. Kingsley. 
■ -- 
TALK OK THE DOOKSTEP. 
BY ROSE GERANIUM. 
“I get no satisfaction from living,” said a 
weary woman to me a few mornings ago, as she 
sat with her sun-bonnet on her knee sharing 
my favorite seat. *' My life la an endless round 
of toil for others. I have no time to seek rny 
own pleasure. None of the beauty or poetry of 
life will ever bo mine. 1 wish I were dead!” 
she concluded, with a terrifying emphasis, as 
her gaze wandered away. 
My heart ueiiod for the desolate soul. 1 
glanced at her toll-browned hands, her droop¬ 
ing form and weary, unsatisfied face. How I 
pitied her! Then my gaze followed hers, and 
I beheld a valley, dainty and perfect as a pic- 
lure, now clasping, now receding from the 
silent stream that wound away, like a sleeping 
spirit, and lost Itself among summer-draped 
crags. In and out among distant willows flitted 
bright wings, and such songs floated up as can 
come from such a place. Further on, the pas¬ 
tures mounted to a hill, and the hill was wild 
and forest-crowned. High above swung the 
cloud-flecked blue of the heavens, and all was 
fresh with the sun and dew of the morning! 
For an instant rny soul exulted ; then I came 
back to my companion. Her face wore the 
same sorrowful shadow. 
“ Is it not lovely!" I exclaimed, with an end 
in view. 
“ What ? Oh, you can afford to enjoy such 
things, but I tiave to deal with the realities of 
life. What consolation do you suppose your 
way of thinking would bring if you were in my 
place?" 
I sadly reflected that it would bring none, 
because here w ere eyes that would not see, and 
a heart with Its avenues scrupulously shut 
against all possible means of happiness. Yet I 
longed to tell her that practical experience 
had taught me the consolations, full and abun¬ 
dant, which may be gathered from, simple 
sources to anoint ami soothe a life of toll. 
Here was a case for the wise hands of Esq. 
Pencil. Remembering his skillfuluess of 
thought, 1 fell to wondering how he would 
treat my patient. “ Go buck to the beginning,” 
1 would say, “ and set the heart right by equip¬ 
ping It properly with trust and patience, and 
happier views of life—by teaching it that its 
work, however common-place, was an impor¬ 
tant work, and one which Nature designed to 
run like a gilded thread through the entire 
length of lire!” Hut I could not go back even 
an hour. 
Here was a diseased spirit, moving among 
men and women, dealing daily with the hearts 
and lives of little children—a thing pitiful to 
behold, fearful to possess. Its influences were 
going out as constantly and as surely ;ts the 
vapors from a stream. What must be the re¬ 
sult? Yet first of all my anxiety reached pas¬ 
sionately fortii to the woman whom I knew 
was suffering such agonies, from year to year, 
as cannot be portrayed. From a thousand 
sources flowed the balm for her relief, yet I 
was powerless to apply It. 
Do you wonder that I longed for wisdom, or 
for a heart that was fitted to work where mine 
had failed? 
--- 
WOMAN’S WAGES. 
Prof. Francis A. Walker of Yale College 
delivered an address before the United Literary 
Society of Amherst, on the subject of “Labor 
and Wages.” 
The question of wages, he said, is one of hap¬ 
piness or misery to uncounted millions of our 
race. Not, indeed, to the majority of men, for 
those who cultivate on their own account the 
soil which they own or for which they pay a 
rent, taking to themselves the risks of produc¬ 
tion, and receiving the whole or n fixed part of 
its profits, as yet far outnumber the wage-re¬ 
ceiving laborers of the world. Privileged as 
we of the United States are in the condition of 
labor, there are three classes of our population 
respecting which we cannot assume Tull indus¬ 
trial self-sufficiency. 1 shall make no apology 
for mentioning these classes together. They 
are tire blacks of the South, our foreign ele¬ 
ment, and that portion of our women who 
work for wages. Of woman’s work be spoke 
at length, concluding as follows: 
“Let gilted women continue, as in the past, 
to appeal for public respect and sympathy for 
their sisters in their work; let the schools 
teach that competition is not almighty, and 
that nothing that depends on human volition 
is inexorable. Let the statistics of women’s 
wages be carefully gathered und persistently 
held up to view, and wo shall soon Bee a state 
of things when, if 1 may adopt the language of 
Rogers ami Siamondi, Americans will not tame¬ 
ly acquiesce in wrongs done to woman in her 
work, or employers dare to offer unjust terms; 
when woman, free and bold in her self-respect, 
and in the support of the community, shall 
labor, if she must labor, the equal partner of 
mau, not his slave and drudge." 
- -- 
MAEY CLEMMER AMES ABOUT HERSELF. 
The astonishment of some gentlemen who 
visited the woman correspondent of the Inde¬ 
pendent at Washington, trie other day, as one 
of the sights of the capital, and found her 
neither old nor ugly, loads Mary Clem oner Ames 
to go on in this charming way about herself: 
I am so used to being regarded ns an object of 
antiquity by my contemporaries that, it’s a re¬ 
mark to the contrary that Startles me. When 
I was seventeen I wrote a rhyme called “No 
Longer Young." I’ve lost It, but these lines 
were in It: 
To catch a shadow in the glass, 
A race no longer young, alus ! 
To hear iu mirth of girls anil boys 
The refrain of our former Joys. 
I have been paying the penalty of such pre¬ 
cocity ever since. last me tell you, girls, to got 
into the newspapers before you arc sixteen is 
not only ridiculous and silly, but disastrous, if 
you want any one to imagine that you ever had 
any youth, and especially if the writing demon 
who pursues you compels you to write In the 
tone of an old woman, without any of her 
wisdom. Two facts springing from this age-in- 
advance reputation are really melancholy. 
Yf hen I am fairly old, a whole generation will 
spring up and exclaim, at mention of the 
name, “Why, isn’t that old woman dead yet? 
I'm sure I heard of her as gray-haired when I 
was young!” Now it. will mortify me dread¬ 
fully when people shall assert that I Have out¬ 
lived my time—a period never too long delayed 
In this country. Then, when you have gravo 
suspicions that you are neither very strong nor 
wise, and are attacked by sudden impulses to 
say or do something ridiculous, if only to burst 
for a moment the heavy chain of responsibility 
that holds you unceasingly to daily and hourly 
toil—to feel blithe and bright and free as any 
girl—just to he jerkod aplomb by a letter? Ay, 
by scores of letters from sister women, ad¬ 
dressing you as if you were a Methusaleh. 
(Brother men usually write to lecture and to 
dictate.) 1 mind them not. It's the women 
letters that, tug at my heart-strings. 
--•- 
A YOUNG HUSBAND’S RULES, 
THEODORE Parker married in April, 1836, 
Miss Lydia D. Cabot, only daughter of .John 
Cabot of Newton, with whom he had plighted 
troth live years previously. The following reso¬ 
lutions were entered in his journal on his wed¬ 
ding day: 
1. Never, except for the best of causes, to 
oppose my wife’s will. 
2. To discharge all services for her sake, 
freely. 
3. Never to look cross at her. 
4. Never to weary her commands. 
5. To promote piety. 
6. To bear her burdens. 
7. To overlook her foibles. 
8. To love, cherish, and ever defend her. 
9. To remember her always most affection¬ 
ately in my-prayer; thus, God willing, we shall 
be blessed. 
-- 
A Wife’s Happiness.— No married woman 
can lie happy if her husband does not appear to 
regard and honor her as well as actually to do 
so. The order of flirts have a certain article of 
faith which comforts them mightily namely, 
that a man's wife is always the least interesting 
woman in the room to him. If he does not 
know this, she does; and sortie act of graceful 
courtesy, some little word or motion—nothing 
in itself, perhaps, but indicative of the tender¬ 
ness he feels for her—gives the good wife a 
moment of triumph so innocent and sweet that 
no one should begrudge it. to her. 
--♦♦♦- 
An old maid in Lowell, Mass., has had forty 
offers of marriage, and can show documentary 
evidence to prove it. 
Hiding for the j§mtng. 
WANTED. 
HV MRS. GEORGE BARTLETT. 
Wanted— a house in a quiet tree. 
Neat and snug, for .Jenny and me. 
A place in the country will scarce meet our views, 
We prefer the town if we may choose. 
We are Sparrows ; but we have need to be fed. 
And we have to look sharp in getting our bread. 
When life was young, and the summer fair, 
We lived on love without a care ; 
We picked up a crumb ns It came In our way, 
And from morning till night we did nothing but play. 
We did not know that a winter would come, 
When we should shiver, und need a home ; 
Rut one dreadful day the snow fell on the street. 
And my dear little Jenny froze both of her feet. 
Then we searched, and searched, and searched 
again. 
To find a shelter, but. all in vain. 
And so itl sorrow we’ve sat together, 
Houseless, and cold, through this wintry weather. 
Rut Jenny tells me in Olilppering words. 
She means now to raise some tiny birds,— 
YVee specks of things ut first we shall see, 
But lovely l’ui sure, as lovely can be. 
So we need a home for these dears, you see— 
A house In a quiet, airy tree, 
With n hough to shade tho little door. 
And a roof that's light if the rain should pour. 
The matter of furniture we will provide : 
A little soft hair, and some moss well dried. 
But If for us some one the dwelling will make, 
We shall be so glad for our birdlings’ sake ; 
And wliererever It’s placed, Indeed there’s no doubt 
But In hopping around we shall Und it out. 
-♦ ♦ »--- 
A NEW GAME TOR BOYS. 
“ Scout,” or “ La Chasse de Cuerre.” 
Not long since a correspondent of the Phila¬ 
delphia. Ledger submitted, for the information 
of the “Hoys of America,” the following sy¬ 
nopsis of a game which lie thinks ought in a 
short time to become as popular us Base Ball. 
As a good many of tho aforesaid boys are Rc- 
iia i, readers, xve give the account of tho game 
for their benefit us follows: 
Tho game in question la known in Ireland by 
the name or “ Scout." But even I her© It is cer¬ 
tainly not played in conformity with Its original 
constitution. In an old French document on 
“ Athletics,” which I stumbled upon a short 
time ago, under the caption of "La Clnisse do 
Guerre," I at once recognized the leading con¬ 
stituents of its crude parody of the “ Old 
Land,” “ Scout." Tho Norman title, I think, 
ought to be retained, because “ Chasse de Guer¬ 
re” sounds good, and by that name r propose 
to present it. 
The contestants consist of thirteen a side, 
which Includes the “ master” (or loader) of the 
company. The *ceno of action is a parallelo¬ 
gram, 820by 30 yards. Each company with its 
chosen master take position In the right and 
left, corners ut tho head of the “ Place.” Then 
one front each side goes out, and is placed by 
the umpire on the starting line midway between 
the parties, and likewise at the head oT the 
grounds. The race is to be 200 yards. And the 
“winning post” is to be a small flag-pole, sur¬ 
rounded by a small pennant of the united col¬ 
ors or the Contestants. The polo may be a neat 
lance wood stick about six feet high by an inch 
and a-httlf iu diameter, with a wedge-shaped 
bottom, which is to be inserted either in the 
ground or in the deft of a small block of wood, 
The capture of this flag-pole, which should 
easily yield to the forward pressure of the hand, 
at once secures a “point" to the party whose 
man has taken it, and makes a “ prisoner” of 
ids unsuccessful opponent. The first twelve 
points decide the game. The second “ master” 
will have charge of the flag-pole and readjust 
it immediately after each capture. Kadi win¬ 
ner is entitled to run again and again, as often 
as he takes the pole. But ho must not do so 
until afUr the balance of Ids free companions 
have each had u “ spin." If any one of the op¬ 
posing parties should have the unprecedented 
good fortune to take a prisoner every race, it 
will of course win the game right off, making 
twelve consecutive points to nothing. But if 
instead of making twelve consecutive points it 
should meantime have lost throe prisoners, the 
“ master" of the captured company i» entitled 
to claim an exchange, and to continue the game 
with the three redeemed, and so on until no 
one to I'.rclianije remains at the losing side, and 
the game is de facto declared. No exchange is 
admissible while a single contestant remains at 
either side. I strongly recommend this tine 
invigorating and inspiriting game to the boys, 
whether in transit or full-grown, of America. 
-♦♦♦- 
MY CAPTAIN’S ORDERS. 
“ How is It I don’t seem to hear you speak 
bad words?” asked an “ old salt" of a boy on 
board a man-of-war. 
“O, 'cause I don’t forget my Captain’s or¬ 
ders,” answered tlie hoy, brightly. 
“Captain’s orders 1" cried the old sailor, “1 
didn’t know he gave any.” • 
“He did,” said Jem, “and I keep ’em safe 
hero,” putting his hand on his breast.. “ Hero 
they are," said Jem slowly and distinctly :—“ ‘ I 
say unto you, Swear not at, all; neither by 
heaven, for it is God’s throne; nor by earth, for 
it is his footstool; neither liy Jerusalem, for it 
is t he city of the great King. Neither shalt 
thou swear by thy head, because thou must not 
make one hair wliito or black. But let your 
communication to, yea, yea; nay, nay; for 
whatsoever is more thun these cornet h of evil.’ ” 
—Matthew , v. 84-87. 
“From the good old log-book, I seo,” said 
the sailor. “ Ah, yes, you’ve got your orders.” 
--- 
ABOUT IDLENESS. 
M a NY young people think that an idle life 
must bo a pleasant one. But this Is a sad mis¬ 
take, as they would soon And out. if they made 
a trial of the life t.hoy think so agreeable. One 
who is never busy can uevor enjoy rest, for lost 
implies a relief front previous labor; and if our 
whole time were -pent in amusing ourselves, 
we should ilnd it more wearisome than the 
hardest day's work. Recreation is only valua¬ 
ble as it unbend* us ; the idle can know nothing 
of it. Many people leave off business and settle 
down tea lifeol' enjoyment; but they generally 
And that they are not nearly so happy as they 
were before, and they are often glad to return 
to the occupations to escape the miseries. 
-- 
HATS OFF! 
Off with your hat, my boy, when you enter 
the house. Gentlemen never keep their hats 
on in tho presence of ladles, ami if you always 
tako your’s off when mamma and the girls are 
by, you will not Torget yourself or be mortified 
when a guest or stranger happens to be in the 
parlor. Habit is stronger than anything else, 
and you will always find that tho easiest way to 
make sure of doing rigid, on all occasions is to 
get in the habit of doing right. Good manners 
cannot bo put on at a moment’s warning. 
lie 
We arc always glad to receive contributions 
for this Department. 
CROSS-WORD ENIGMA. No. 4. 
My first is in eat but not in crink ; 
My second ill edge but not In brink ; 
My third in small but not in grout; 
My fourth in pencil but not in slate; 
My fifth in loaf but not in bud; 
My sixth in mire but not in mud ; 
My seventh in coat but not In vest; 
My eighth in earnest but not in jest; 
My ninth In ponce but not in war; 
My tenth In near but not In far. 
My whole should be our “ guiding star.” 
i*S9” Answer in two weeks. t. 
GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. No. 2. 
I am composed of eleven letters: 
M.v 3, 9, 5, 4, 7 is a city in Europe ; 
My 7, 4,9, 2 is a country in Asia; 
My 10,9, 5 is a river in North Carolina; 
My H, 5, 4,1 is a city in Pennsylvania; 
My 9, 2, 4, 8, C is a river in Louisiana. 
My whole is a State. G. and R. E. Shelby. 
fJT" Answer in two weeks. 
-- 
ANAGRAM.-No. 1. 
Mosk sigulofe ear Ot lormsat nevig, 
Tiwh sels fo hetar ni rneth hant nevaeh ; 
Dan l’i horet eb a numah reat 
Mori' sapsinoa sords fedrino dna lacre, 
A cart os miidip dan os keme, 
Tl lowdu ton itints na gaslen eckeh, 
'Sit hatt iiicwh soupl hafsert desli 
Noiip a tusudoe hugtadser deah ! 
Answer in two weeks. Mrs. P. C. H. 
—-m- 
HIDDEN CITIES. No. 2. 
1. He was supported by the parish. 
2. There was some spar taken from the cave. 
3. Quit, Oscar, or l will tell mother. 
4. Jack’s on my dress. 
5. Ha! Van, are you going? 
6. I told her to go at four. 
Young Rural Reader. 
ISST" Answer in two weeks. 
-- 
PROBLEM.—No. 3. 
Required, 1 lie smallest number that can be 
divided by 11 or 13 without a remainder; but 
which, if divided by any other number between 
1 and 13, there will be one of a remainder. 
Answer in two weeks. Wm. H. Hall. 
-- 
PUZZLER ANSWERS-July 25. 
Charade No. 3.—Catalogue. 
Miscellaneous Enigma No. 2. Buy the 
truth and sell it not. 
Problem NO- 2.-89 acres, 2 r. 2.8468 x. 
Diamond Enigna No. L— 
E 
INN 
EAGLE 
ENGLAND 
PEACH 
