he  tastes  a  new  variety.  I(  he  takes  kindly  t  o  It 
without  remark— he  seldom  praises— I  coneliidoat 
once  It  Is  fjowi. 
On  this  oc(;aslon  I  saw  his  blR  blue  eyes  dilate, 
then  a  portentous  scowl  overspread  his  face,  and 
a  very  perceptible  shudder  passed  through  his 
stalwart  frame.  His  j)lato  and  fork  wore  pushed 
away  with  the  exclamation,  “  M  ate,  what  in  the 
world  have  you  put  In  that  pie  7” 
"  Why,  what  alls  It?”  said  I,  and  Imnmdlately 
took  a  bit  of  It  Into  my  mouth.  Bitter,  biKercr, 
BITTEREST. 
gentlemen  cousins  to  think  that  I  believe  conceit 
or  vanity  to  be  conllneU  to  them  alone,  for  I  know 
It  grows  rank  among  us,  and  I  dislike  to  sec  It 
there  fully  as  much.  Anything  but  a  vain,  con¬ 
ceited  boy  or  girl !  Uncle  True  was  very  kind  to 
give  us  such  a  nice  subject  and  an  ojiportnnlty  to 
air  our  knowlndge  of  History,  and  I  hope  ho  will 
give  us  another  eUance  soon,  and  then  we  will 
see  If  the  boys  can  write  abler  essays  than  we,— 
yon  see  I  don’t  hardly  believe  It,  girls.  Will  not 
Youno  NATtruAt.isT  jdease  be  so  kind  as  to  write 
again,  or  dees  he  dislike  being  so  notorious  among 
ns?  I  love  llowers,  and  have  nultc  a  number 
which  I  Intend  to  keep  through  the  winter.  1 
llilnk  Pish  tieranlums  are  very  showy  and  nice 
for  window  gardens,  and  I  have  sK  nice,  thrifty 
ones,  also  a  splonilld  Calla,  which  has  bloomed 
iwlco  t  his  summer,  and  (pilte  a  number  of  other 
kinds  of  i)lants,  I  lliul  I  have  more  blossoms  If 
1  keeji  iny  plants  In  small  pots;  but  no  doubt 
you  are  all  wanting  mo  to  say,  tiood*by.— Y  ouno 
TKAciiKa. 
P.  s.— Thanks  to  .storm  a  nd  Y'ouno  Kditok,  No 
2,  for  making  our  column  so  lively. 
THE  MINER’S  STORY 
THE  OLD  HOSTLER’S  EXPERIENCE 
I  married  Barb'ry  ont’n  the  city,  you  see. 
She  was  far  too  nice  a  lasa  for  the  like  o’  me, 
I  did  my  courtin'  in  brave,  fine  clotlies,  ray  best ; 
I  didn’t  tell  her  ’at  t  was  a  miner-lad,  like  the  rest. 
Not  tUallsbe  thought  me  a  gentlctnan’s  son,  of  course, 
I’d  never  go  them,  riding,  with  gig  or  horse. 
But  I  somehow  kejit  under  my  workin’  ways  and  talk, 
And  I’d  never  notice  the  conimon  I-ads  in  my  walk. 
P'r’aps  I  let  on  that  1  had  a  farm  at  the  least. 
For  I  could  talk  Icnowin'  'bout  any  barn-yard  beast, 
Aud  bees,  an'  the  like,  an’  crops  of  barley  an’  rye. 
And  of  seeds  an'  roots,  's  if  I  had  come  there  to  buy. 
She  was  a  delicate,  purty,  lady-like  little  thing, 
YVith  a  check  like  the  blush  on  a  rose ;  there’s  a  shinin’ 
ring 
Of  her  yellow  hair,  in  my  Bible ;  I  keep  it  so, 
'Cause  it  kinder  draws  me  to  read  the  g^od  Book,  you 
know. 
So  I  married  Barliary— she  went  home  wi'  me  the  samu 
day; 
I  took  her  to  my  old  mother,  an’  what’d  the  good  soul 
say  y 
"  She's  not  lit  for  you,  son,  a  rough  miner  wniits 
strength  in  a  wife 
I  thought  I  sh’d  sink  m  the  ground— 'twas  the  sin  o’ 
ray  life. 
I  didn’t  dare  to  look  In  the  poor  little  quiverin’  face; 
”  It’s  the  deceiving  I  mind,  dear,  ’tisn’t  the  work,  or 
the  place 
Them’s  Just  her  words,  and  I  wanted  to  die  in  my 
shame ; 
”  You  got  me  with  lying her  look  meant  exactly  that 
same. 
Bo  I  did;  and  It  made  me  ugly  as  time  went  along; 
For  I  fancied  that  Barbara  al  .vays  remembered  the 
wrong, 
So’t  if  she  was  pale,  I’d  tease  her  'most  out  of  her  life. 
And  tell  her  she  ought  to  be  stronger,  being  a  miner’s 
wife. 
And  once  when  my  temjier  was  up,  I  cursed  her  to  her 
face : 
She  fell  at  my  feet,  so  white  aud  scared !  'twas  a 
biirniu'  disgrace ; 
And  then  came  tin:  awfiillost  hour  a  man  can  ever  see, 
And  a  little  morsel  of  new-born  life,  laid  on  my  knee. 
Well,  p'r’aps  one  like  me’ll  never  see  the  angels  or 
such, 
If  the  I.ord  keiit  her  from  me  I  shouldn’t  Iilamo  Him, 
much. 
I  wasn’t  fit  Bcttin’  for  a  di’mond,  precious  as  that,— 
You're  lookin’,  I  see,  at  the  piece  o’  crape  on  my  hat. 
Lost  both,  sir ;  it’s  all  right,  I’m  not  the  man  to  com¬ 
plain. 
They’re  where  the  glory  and  beauty  is ;  I’m  left  alone 
with  the  pain ; 
But  I’m  lightln’  my  cursed  temper,  flghtin’  both  day 
and  night, 
And  I’ll  conquer  it,  if  I  die— it’s  all  right,  sir ;  all  right. 
IMary  .1.  Denluoii. 
1  at  ra  up  hoah— Hk('  good  oP  Paul, 
OlK'd’ont  to  <ln  Mahs’i'’K  c-all  — 
To  tell  ray  'apeniin’c,  tell  it  all ! 
OP  Hhamb's  inil  up; 
An’  I's  ted  (ri.ouv  out  do  stall, 
To  win  de  cup. 
Don,  all  you  sinnahs,  cl'ai'  de  track  ! 
I's  mounted  on  oP  Gi.ory’k  back ; 
Her  linfs  is  gwinn  fii-click-ta-cinck, 
Jidt's  how  dej's  gwine  1 
.\u’  Satan’s  rattlin',  shacklin'  hack 
Is  Icf’  bchin’. 
Ah,  Christuns;  in  ray  foolish  days, 
I  rid  de  deblilPs  idoodcd  liays: 
Pkuscmi'ciius  Priuk,  an'  Worl’ly  W.vys, 
An’  made  'em  lope ; 
Blit  now  I's  turned  'em  out  to  graze 
WUlont  a  rope. 
Yah!  Yah  !  O/i.' liow  1  used  to - .  Well, 
Be  'ticlars  'taint  no  use  to  tell, 
But  oncct  I  nd  do  road  to  hell 
Wid  nar  a  bit, 
.\n’  went  two-forty  on  the  shell 
Toward  de  pit. 
I, Ike  Bnlaain,  when  he  rid  de  ass, 
1  'siated  on  a-tralilin’  fas’— 
But  'twiis  a  pace  'at  c'u’du’t  las’, 
An’  I  gfl  Ih’owod. 
I  eotcli  Uv.i.ioKiN,  Irottiu’  pua’. 
An’  back  i  good. 
An’  now  I  simply  'vises  you— 
You  debliah  boys  I’s  talkin’  to— 
Don’t  nebber  bab  a  thing  to  do 
Wld  iSatan’s  hossos 
Bey'll  biielt  ’an  fling  you  in  do  sloo. 
Fas'  one  you  crosses. 
But  git  Hki.ioion  well  in  ban', 
All'  rido  her  like  a  little  man— 
lJcr<:jiliit'no  boss  in  all  do  lau' 
Kin  run  agin  her— 
An’  you’ll  come  by  dc  Jodges'  stan’ 
A  easy  winner.  [Irwin  Ilnasell. 
From  a  Country  Belle. 
Beau  Yteu-vd  IlnitAMaTS I  don’t  suppose  you 
care  very  mueh  about  hearlniij  from  ine  again,  but 
I  am  not  going  to  wait  to  hear  whether  you  do  or 
not.  I  don't  know  what  fo  think  of  Youno  Kd¬ 
itok,  NO.  2,  but  If  that  young  gentleman  will  eomo 
back,  sit  down,  tiiko  tlmu  and  say  ivhat  ho  has  to, 
and  not  go  over  It  In  such  a  helter-skelter  wny  aud 
then  .spring  up  and  leave  u.-i  no  abruptly,  I  will  try 
and  tell  lilm  what  I  think  of  him.  I  am  not  very 
fond  of  sterm.s  as  a  geiierul  Mi  lug,  but  there  are 
some  storms  which  1  admire ;  lint,  rny  lino  young 
gentloman,  don't  »|ioll  alt  Of  your  noble  (lualltleH 
by  being  conceited.  Y'oii  boys  boast  that  you 
could  beat  the  glils  In  writing  the  hl.story  of  -Joan 
of  Arc,  but  youcouliln’t  have  bad  mueh  eonlldenco 
In  yourselves  or  you  certainly  would  haveattomp- 
ed  It.  But.  I  wouldn’t  .say  any  l.liing  ngalnst  .storm 
tor  tho  world!  Thn  same  dnserlpMon  suits  us 
both;  of  coiinso  we  must  bo  friends.  Besides, 
you  have  just  my  opinion  about  the  (louslns 
ngrof'lng  so  well,  if  all  the  city  Cou.slns  soar  to 
the  bights  of  W.  C.  of  Now  York,  give  mo  tho 
country  forever,  and  aye  1  Now  boys,  don’t  bo 
bnokward;  you  can  aud  must  hold  your  own  with 
the  girls.  Htand  up,  and  let  them  know  what  you 
are  made  of.  (o  noblo  manhood,  where  are  thy 
charms;)  I  like  Youno  Pki.stkr  pretty  well,  but 
I  think  JoK  STKKI.K  Is  (pilte  a  cheeky  UlMe  fellow. 
1  would  like  to  get  aeiiualnted  with  Cousin  (Jyi-sy 
Bki.i.k,  oAi  I  like  her  very  much,  or  course  I  havo 
favorites,  but  i  like  nearly  all  of  the  Cousins. 
Well,  don’t  you  think  1  have  scrlbbltd  abovit 
enough?  J  do;  so  hoping  to  hear  from  j on  all 
soon,  aud  with  friendly  adieu,  I  will  make  iny 
exit.— Bei.i.e  K.  F. 
rustic  cross. 
Quickly  as  pos.slblo  T  gathered  up  the  pic  dishes 
from  before  our  guests.  But  Mr.  K.  managed  to 
have  a  taste,  In  spite  or  mj'  etforte  to  the  contrary. 
Thanks  to  mother’s  well-nilcd  pantry,  there  was 
no  necessity  of  going  without  our  dessert. 
But  my  pie !— tho  dog  n'fuagd  to  taste  It ;  the 
hens  eyed  It  with  disdain  ;  tlic  pigs  weru  disgust¬ 
ed  with  the  unsavory  morsel,  and  it  was  tessed 
about  the  farm  till  Mother  Nature  became  tired 
of  the  sight  and  resolved  It  Into  Us  elements. 
But  If  at  any  time  I  declare  my  .ability  to  cook 
well,  they  havo  only  to  mention  elderberry  pie, 
and  I  submit  at  once.  t!ari  any  of  Uic  uukai, 
readers  tell  me  w/ty  the  pio  was  bitter? 
ITeasanton,  Mich,  m.  e.  a. 
FROM  THE  OENTENNIAL  EXHL 
BITION. 
WIDOWS, 
Winter-kept  apple.s,  se.asoned  wine,  a  clouded 
meersehaura,  a  vase  around  which  the  scent  of 
the  roses  still  hangs,  aU  those  havo  a  rare,  ripe, 
evanescent  flavor  t.lnit  suggest,  but  cannot  ex¬ 
press,  tho  charm  of  tho  widow,  A  young  widow 
Is,  perhaps,  the  most  lutorostlug  object  lu  nature 
—or  In  art.  She  represents  l•..\pcrluncc  without 
Us  wrinkles  or  Its  gray  hairs.  She  has  matronly 
beauty  and  maidenly  freedom  combined.  She  Is 
grief  with  a  laughing  eye  -sorrow  In  a  house  of 
festival— a  silver  moon  lu  a  sable  cloud,  sue  ts 
too  sweet  tor  anything!  Like  all  good  things, 
Shu  can  only  bo  created  at  a  groat  aacriilee.  Mrs. 
Browning  says  that  a  man  must  be  pretty  thor¬ 
oughly  spoiled  before  ho  cau  leave  a  widow.  This 
bhack  swan- this  mournful  I’innn lx— rises  only 
out  of  the  func.ral  urn  that  holds  tho  ashes  of  a 
hmsbatid’s  heart. 
Let  U6  wipe  away  the  briny  tear  and  proceed. 
pf-rdih'  I'lertdfH.  I’oots,  .statesmeii,  hcro(»4  and 
phlloBophors  havo  each  felt  tho  Indolluable  Iriilu- 
cnce  of  widowhood.  ItsifuaULyls  not  sustained. 
It  falls  alike  uiKm  the  Just  and  unjust.  Edward 
I'lantflgenet  m.irrlfHl  the  widow  Elizabeth  Oray, 
though  ho  know  she  brought  civil  war  for  her 
dowry.  Ned  Walker,  Joe  .Vddlson,  Sam  .lohnson, 
George  Washington,  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  John 
Wesley,  Tony  Weller,  Ben.  Blsraell  and  all  the 
hoys  married  widows.  Henry  Vlll.  was  so  fond 
of  them  that  he  took  two,  and  King  David  was  so 
pleased  with  Abigail,  the  widow  of  Nabal,  whom 
ho  took  to  wife,  that  he  tuimed  Bathsheba  Into  a 
widow  on  purpose  to  marry  her.  When  Judith 
ceased  her  cogitations  over  the  virtues  of  the 
late  lameutcd  Manasscs  of  UcthuUa,  puts  otT  her 
inournlug  and  adorns  herself  In  bravo  attire  to 
set  out  for  the  camp  of  lloloternes,  we  feel  lu- 
stlnctlvely  that  she  will  come  back  wltJi  hl.s  heart, 
hla  crown  or  head,  whichever  she  goes  for.  W hen 
the  old  widow  Naomi  couasels  the  young  widow 
Ruth  how  to  lay  her  snares  In  the  harvest  ilclds 
of  her  kliuirnan,  and  spring  her  net  on  the  thresh¬ 
ing  Moor,  wc  know  at  once  that  the  wealthy  Bach¬ 
elor  Boaz  might  as  well  order  thn  wedding  gar¬ 
ments.  Allan  Kam.say  wrote  a  song  telling  how 
to  woo  a  widow.  He  might  a.s  well  have  left  di¬ 
rections  how  to  get  struck  with  lightning. 
I’lm.ADKI.l’IIIA,  Nov.  2,  IStrt, 
Wuat  a  rush!  Everybody  seems  determined 
to  improve  these  last  days.  .Mala  Building,  Art 
Gallery  and  the  places  of  greatest  latorost  arc 
so  crowded  that  one  cau  scarcely  move  about. 
Steam  and  street  cam  are  loadoh  until  tliero  isn't 
even  a  hangIng-on  place,  and  men  are  crowded 
off  the  platforms  and  get  Ibelr  necks  broken, 
-H’Ant  a  plficKj  (or  elegant  attire ;  aud  how  nicn  to 
htive  your  pln-baek  so  tight  and  your  ruilles  and 
furbelows  so  profuse,  that  when  you  make  a  leap 
(or  a  street  cai‘  you  miss  and  arc  in  danger  of 
being  crushed  beneath  the  wheels!  Horses  drop 
down  In  the  streets  and  die  of  overwork,  (inly 
one  span  attaohcl  te  cars  carrying  more  than  a 
hundred  people.  Bbkoii  1a  needed  here  it  he  ever 
was  needed  anywhere.  Wllll  Philadelphians  say 
they  are  doing  the  best  they  can,  hut  ir  tun  imiii- 
once  of  the  almighty  dollar  had  not  such  a  hold 
upon  hiimanlty  they  nUuM  bo  better.  Money, 
money  seems  to  be  the  great  object  of  tho  Exhi¬ 
bition,  as  It  Is  of  every  Yankee  invention. 
flow  It  detrarcs  from  the  msthellcal  Inlliience  of 
a  beiiitlful  picture  or  statue  to  have  placarded 
upon  It,  “For sale;  pi’lee  f.l 5(1,000.”  If  you  havo 
a  thousand  doUam  to  spend,  you  might  buy  a 
small  keepsake  te  take  homo  with  you ;  and  If  a 
Another  for  the  Boys. 
Bear  Cousins:- I  will  ag.iln  try  my  luck  In 
Writing  to  my  lluiiAr.  cousins.  I  think  .storm 
exjiresses  his  likes  and  dislikes  rather  freely,  see¬ 
ing  ho  doesn’t  wl.sh  to  bo  one  oi  ua.  if  you  hoys 
have  such  good  opinions  of  yourselves  In  regard 
to  writing  histories,  and  If,  as  you  say,  you  eua 
write  better  ones  l.han  the  girls,  then  tvhy  don’t 
you  ?  You  havo  Just  as  good  a  ehance  us  wo  have. 
Y'ou  say,  sir,  that  It  makes  no  dlfTererice  If  one  of 
I  lie  boys  does  get  snubbed,  for  the  rest  of  you  will 
take  It  up  and  give  tho  girls  as  good  as  f  !iey  H(>nd. 
I  think  U  you  would  put  try  In  It  you  would  come 
nearer  the  truth,  lor  you  know  you  ciunnil  return 
as  good  as  is  scut.  Another  Editor !  What  shall 
we  do  with  him  ?  I  suppose  ho  will  want  a  front 
seat,  for  1  see  by  his  letter  that  he  has  a  vci  y  good 
opinion  Of  himself.  ”  Well,  if  he  didti'i,  have  iier- 
haps  no  one  else  would.”  Y'.  K.,  yon  say  t.liat  .vou 
nave  a  “sprightly  sheet,  which  shows  its  beam¬ 
ing  countenance  every  month.  I'oq  inxy  think  It 
“sprlglitly what  Is  the  opinion  of  those  who 
read  It?  I  would  advise  you  not  to  8a.v  anything 
tliat  Rounds  so  much  like  pral.se  of  your  own  work. 
As  tho  old  adage  has  it,  “  Self  pral.se  goes  but  a 
little  ways.’’  Fi.okenuk  D.  wlshi's  to  know  how 
to  prepare  autiliiin  leaves.  I  have  some  that  are 
very  pretty.  This  la  my  method  :  .Vfter  gather¬ 
ing,  press  them  In  books  until  nearly  dry ;  then 
oil  them  with  sweet  oil  and  press  again  unlll  dry; 
then  varnish  them.  In  this  M.iy  limy  will  last 
all  winter.  Has  II.  8.  received  my  letter  yet?— 
Adele  W. 
MART’S  ELDERBERRY  PIE, 
I  HAD  Just  retiirned  home,  having  been  absent 
several  months  teaching  “young  Ideas  how  to 
shoot,”  or  iit  least  trying  to  train  yoting  minds  to 
follow  after  wisdom  aud  knowledge  that  should 
benefit  them  In  all  future  time.  As  a  matter  of 
course,  some  of  my  friends  liad  como  with  me  tei 
havo  a  sort  of  family  visit  at  the  old  homestead. 
Mother  had  parlor  and  sltllng-rooin  and  all  the 
other  rooms  arranged  In  **apple-pte”  order,— I 
believe  that  is  an  Eastern  phrase  for  pleasant, 
clieerful  good  taste  In  the  gcuei'al  arrangement  of 
furniture  and  ornaments,— though  why  It  should 
be  apple  pie  more  than  any  other  is  quite  beyond 
my  dull  comprehension.  We  all  visited  as  fast  as 
possible,  frequently  all  talking  logctJier  In  our 
anxiety  to  give  aud  gain  information. 
The  morning  after  my  arrival,  lludlng  myself 
quite  rested  and  refreshed  from  my  long  Journey 
over  a  new  country,  I  began  to  render  a.sslsfance 
about  the  morning  work.  As  the  dinner  hour  ap¬ 
proached,  It  was  a  subject  or  thought  and  dis¬ 
cussion  between  mother  and  myself  what  we 
should  have  for  dreserr.,  that  would  be  a  little 
treat  to  our  guests.  .Vt  last  we  decldtHl  on  having 
an  elderiierry  pie,  as  that  was,  as  yet,  .something 
(lUlte  out  of  the  common  fashion. 
A  Friendly  Visit. 
Bear  Friends  :— I  do  not  dare  to  address  you 
as  cousins  without  your  permission,  for  this  Is 
the  first  time  I  have  written.  I  quite  agree  with 
Bki.i.k  K.  F,  In  regiud  to  piecing  (lUllls,  for  In 
making  di'ea.Hes  there  are  a  great  innny  pieces 
that  would  have  to  be  thrown  away,  if  It  were  not 
for  some  such  way  of  u.sing  them.  I  havo  pieced 
•six  and  think  of  commencing  another.  I  would 
like  to  toll  FiOHKSfK  Bki.a.no  that  I  have  two 
ways  of  preparing  autumn  leaves  for  bourpicta. 
One  Is  to  press  the  leaves  In  a  book  until  thor¬ 
oughly  dry,  and  then  varnl.“h  tUem ;  and  tho 
other  Is  to  dip  them  In  hot  wax  when  yet  fresh 
from  the  trees,  and  after  they  are  dry  lie  them  ou 
a  wire  or  small  stick.  Ifyou  pres.s  them,  you  want 
a  heavy  weight  on  the  hook;  If  you  don’t  havo  It, 
they  will  curl  so  that  you  cannotdo  anything  with 
them.  I  gueas  J  will  not  inako  a  longer  slay  this 
time  for  tear  1  may  find  my  w.iy  lute  that  great 
big  basket  over  there  In  the  comer,  but  if  l  escape 
It  ims  lime  I  will  write  again  and  toll  you  about 
my  little  sisters.- -Minnie  llAZKi.wn'c:i,  Il7i(7es- 
A  ROMANTIC  STORY, 
l.At'B  DKSIdNS, 
In  the  middle  of  the  Avluter  of  1S3S  a  (Ire  broke 
out  In  the  female  seminary  at  Limoges,  France, 
and  spread  tvlth  such  rapidity  that  It  was  feared 
all  the  inmates  would  perish.  Suddenly  there 
came  a  cry  that  one  little  girl  had  been  left  In  her 
room.  As  the  excited  spectators  were  beginning 
to  pray  (or  the  unfortunate  child,  a  tall  girl,  with 
disheveled  blonde  lialr  and  flowing  night  gown, 
ran  through  the  crowd,  and,  with  a  shriek,  “I’ll 
save  her !”  that  rose  above  the  sound  or  cracking 
Umbers  and  falling  masonry,  dashed  Into  the 
doonvay.  loud  hurrah,  that  ivas  prolonged  to 
the  echo  only  to  be  rejteared  again,  attracted  tho 
alteritlon  of  the  devotees,  and  the  pale-raeed  girl 
was  seen  liurrylng  through  the  tl  imes  with  the 
terrified  child.  A  few  days  thereafter  King  Louis 
I’hllllppe  sent  the  heroine  a  gold  medal  for  her 
bravery,  and  a  captain  in  the  J-’rench  army,  who 
had  witnessed  the  girl’s  pluck,  bc'gged  an  Intro¬ 
duction.  The  captain  Is  now  President  of  Franco 
and  the  brave  girl  Madame  Mac  Mahon. 
Now  (mrhi'va  arc  proverbially  called  “lazy,” 
and  are  not  supposed  to  know  much  about  work 
outside  of  tho  school-room.  I  would  let  ny  friends 
know  there  was  at  least  one  who  could  cook  as 
well  as  teach. 
The  fall  previous  I  had  gathei'cd  a  feiv  hne, 
pulpy  berries ;  and  thinking  to  save  hollow 
teeth  from  the  annoj'anee  of  the  seeds,  I  had 
squeezed  out  the  juice  and  c.Lrmcd  It  the  same  as 
other  fruit.  A  teacupful  of  this  Juice,  a  cofleo-cup 
of  sugar,  two  spoonfuls  of  Hour,  a  bit  of  butter 
and  a  few  pieces  of  fresh  lemon,  were  the  In.gredl- 
ciilsused  tor  the  inside  of  lUc  pie;  a  rich  pa.ste 
made  upper  and  under  crust,  it  came  out  of  the 
oven  flaky  and  odorous.  And  I  said  to  myself, 
“  There's  a  pie  fit  for  the  President." 
Mother’s  plea.sant  invitatlori  to  our  gue.sts  aud 
the  family  was  given,  and  Ave  all  gathered  about 
the  well-tilled  table.  Now,  my  “  big  brother  ”  has 
a  way  of  eating  exceedingly  fast,  and  ere  I  had 
done  more  than  to  sip  mj'tca  and  eat  a  few  mouth¬ 
fuls,  he  had  taken  up  his  pie  plate.  lie  Is  our  i/ie 
baroiiietcr,  and  1  aUvays  take  note  of  his  face  when 
LETTERS  FROM  BOYS  AND  GIRLS, 
Another  Protest. 
Dear  Ruhai.  CoratNs:  -.Ys  the  Editor  was  kind 
enough  to  print  tho  letter  1  wrote  about  a  yo.ar 
ago,  I  may  as  well  try  again.  YVe  girls  are  very 
loath  to  believe  tho  boys  can  write  better  essays 
than  Avo,  Avlthout  llrst  seeing  proof  of  It,  As  far 
back  as  rny  memory  servos  me,  I  have  heard  boys, 
and  men  also,  assert  Uiat  they  could  havo  done 
better  if  they  had  tried.  I  think  It  would  be  bet¬ 
ter  to  b  y,  and  not  say  .so  much  about  It.  Now  I 
don’t  know  but  this  sounds  as  If  l  Avere  a  little 
strong-minded— as  the  world  uses  the  phrase— 
and  disliked  boyslu  general.  'That  Is  not  so;  I 
dislike  the  conceited  ones  only,  f  don’t.  Avant  my 
From  Georgia. 
(JooD  morning  cousins,  one  aud  all,  If  you  avIU 
receive  me  as  one  of  your  number.  I  have  been 
reading  you  letters  for  some  time  and  AVlth  much 
interest.  We  have  bi:en  taking  the  IIi'kai.  for  the 
It  was  George  Herbert  who  said  a  handful  of 
good  life  Is  worth  a  bushel  of  learning. 
