failles' portfolio. 
FLOWERS. 
Thkive is no season in the year 
That lifts man’s heart to heaven so near 
As summer; 
When flowers about our pathway grow. 
And roBea ou the hedgerows blow; 
Sweet summer! 
And as its perfumed breath cloth rise, 
In silent homage to the skies 
Up-stealing, 
A thonsand memories forth start. 
Long-hidden pictures in the heart 
Kevealing. 
Where lilac chains with scented links, 
Or treasured tuft of red clove pinks, 
Or heather 
’Mongst which we played, flne stories tell 
Of parted ones who once did dwell 
Together. 
Again the feathery seeds away 
Are puffed to tell the time of day, 
Whilst golden- 
Hued cowslips into balls we twine, 
Or part the horns in columbine 
Lufolden! 
Whilst through the woods the whole day long 
The cuckoo sings an idle song, 
Awaking 
The echo of a dulcet peal. 
That rang ere hearts begun to feel 
Heart-breaking. 
And so It comes to pass that wo 
With half a sigh the flowers see, 
Half gladncsB; 
And round our hearts they twine and twine, 
Until their beuuty makes divine 
Our sadness. [Qttitvr. 
- -• ♦ » — . ■ 
PRICE OF A WIFE. 
Is the marriage market an Indian clvllnn used 
to be reckoned as worth X300 a year, dead or olive, 
Allen’s Indian Mall observes that the nominal 
value of Bombay civilians now bids fair to rise 
yet higher, although the real value will remain 
much as It was, In view of the growing cdieapness 
or money. Owing to the flourishing state of their 
widow’s tuud, It has been proposed that X40» In¬ 
stead Ot X300 per annum, should be the pension 
granted to all ladles who come on tho fund as 
widows after the 1st of July, I8T8. This, says an 
Indian Journal, will bo equal to a marriage settle¬ 
ment, In tho ordinary manner, of xi 2,000 in con¬ 
sols—a sum whtch not one rnau in twenty belong¬ 
ing to the upper middle and professional classes, 
is able to settle on hla wife when he marries. A 
counter-proposition, w hich Is even more liberal 
than the original one, Is also going round for sig¬ 
nature, to the effect that all tho widows now on 
the fund should also get the Increased pension, 
and to this amendment there Is said to be little or 
no opposition. As widow’s on the Bombay Civil 
Fund forfeit half their pension If they marry 
again, It follows that each one of these ladles who 
takes unto herself a second husband will have 
X200 a year to help In keeping up her new home. 
That sum is equal to a settlement of xcooo or so, 
In the Consols, and It la not every lady, whether 
widow or maid, who ean command so useful a 
dowry. Thus the new regulation will not only 
raise the value of Bombay civil servants as hus¬ 
bands, but also of the widow's they leave behind 
them. 
-♦-*-♦- 
VALOR. 
A few miles north of Tecumseh, Mich., there Is 
a brick school-house, wherein reigns a muscular 
young schoolmistress. She Induced the trustees 
to brighten the dingy walls with new paper, and 
warned the subjects of licr Utile realm that they 
must not deface It. One young lady willfully and 
repeatedly ornamented the new- wall-paper with 
splabhes or ink and inartistic penmanship. The 
school was dismissed, the culprit detained, the 
door locked, and the ferule brandished. The 
pupil struck back, and a hand-to-hand conflict 
raged. A brother and sister of the young rebel 
ran home and summoned two indignant parents 
to the aceno of war. The door was unlocked, the 
father breathed out threatening's and slaughter •, 
the mother rolled up her sleeves, seized the arm 
of the schoolmistress, and was on the point of 
heating and biting her, whenlo! a champion or 
the oppressed entered. It was a beautiful young 
gentleman who had driven up In a sleigh to Invite 
the teacher to go with him to a concert; In the 
village that evening, lie separated the combat¬ 
ants, glared at the father, put tho schoolmistress 
in the “cutter,” and drove away over the hills 
and dales. After the concert he gave her a 
seven-shooter, and bade her defend herself in 
future Like a man. 
NOTHING TO WEAR. 
When Mi’s. Tlllotson made her speech last sum¬ 
mer In favor of the adoption of trousers by her 
sex, she little Imagined that her name was to bo 
carried to the ends of the earth. In a few weeks 
the English weeklies had sarcastic articles on the 
proposed measures of dress reform, and now the 
latest flies from Shanghai have comments on the 
uniform of the shrieking sister-hood. Sr range to 
say, the worthy lady is not credited with origin¬ 
ality, although her name and praises arc sounded. 
“The Idea," says The Celestial Empire, “was 
first suggested by Demosthenes and Henry Clay, 
speaking from the spirit world. But we think 
there Is no roason why the efforts of these women 
In the Interests of morality, physical development, 
and the preservation of life should not succeed. 
Let them wear trousers by all means. They have 
done so for a long time In theory, and they will 
never be happy antlt they are allowed to do so In 
practice. We only hope Demosthenes will not 
come Intruding Ills eccentric suggestions at 
seances In Shanghai.” “ Demosthenes” twice in 
one paragraph 1 Mr. Tilton’s biographical studies 
have evidently left an impress upon Chinese 
society. 
---♦ ♦ ♦- 
QUEEN AND DOG. 
A story Is told of Queen Victoria’s first visit to 
CratUie Church, near Balmoral. A fine, large dog 
belonging to the clergyman roltowed him up the 
pulpit steps, and lay down against the door during 
the sermon, as “still as a stone.” The next day 
sir George Grey, who was then in attendance on 
Her Majesty, met the clergyman, and remon¬ 
strated with him for allowing his dog Lo boon the 
pulpit steps, reeling assured that It would annoy 
the Queen. The clergyman at once politely prom¬ 
ised that his pet should he kept " out of church • 
next Sunday. During tho following week the 
clergyman was honored with an Invitation to din 
nerwith the royal family. After dinner, In con¬ 
versation, the Queen inquired why the dog was 
not on the pulpit steps as before. “ l’lease, Your 
Majesty, I kept my dog at home last Sunday, as 
.sir George thought It would annoy Your Maj¬ 
esty," was tho reply. “Oh, no,” replied the 
Queen; “lot him come as usual. I wish that 
everybody behaved at church as well as your 
noble dog!” 
-»»»■ 
TRIUMPH. 
Mas. Fanny Kemble says of Barry Cornwall 
and his wife, Anno Skcpper, that she was like a 
fresh lemon—golden, fragrant, firm and whole¬ 
some,—and he was like the honey of Hyradius; 
they were an Incomparable compound. She de¬ 
scribes a vh it which sdheby, the poel, once paid 
to Mrs. Joanna Balllle, whose great—and unavall- 
Ing—ambition It was to be a successful writer for 
the stage. The poetess called him Into lior little 
kitchen (site was not rich, kept row servants, uud 
dlit not disdain sometimes to make her own pies 
and puddings), uud bade him, as she was up to 
the elbows In Hour and paste, draw from her 
pocket a paper; It was a playbill, sent, to Derby 
some Mend In Mm counrry, Betting forth that 
some obscure provincial company was about to 
perform Mrs. Joanna Ballllc'u celebrated tragedy 
of De Mont,fort. “ There,” exclaimed tho culinary 
Melpmneua, “there, Sothoby, I am so happy! 
Y'ou sec my plays can ho acted somewhere!” 
LONE WOMEN. 
Miss Julia E. .smith, one of the renowned sis¬ 
ters of Glastonbury, has Just freed her mind on 
the subject of feminine rights. The offending 
tyrants ought to voll their faces when they read ; 
“ Millions have been rejoicing the pant Centennial 
year over such a great and unheard-of exposition 
at Philadelphia, while some few, in the middle of 
this land of steady habits, have Been obliged to 
keep their home with fear and trembling for hav¬ 
ing asserted the grand principles of their fore¬ 
fathers, declared one hundred years ago. These 
lono women must not meddlo with politics. I do 
not believe, had they the power to move the gov¬ 
ernment machinery, but that a President, would 
liavo been fairly voted In, without, such turmoil 
and commotion, In consequenee of tho whole au¬ 
thority being given to half the community.” 
- 4 -*-*- 
A WOMAN’S FRIENDSHIP. 
It Is a wondrous! advantage to muu, In every 
pursuit or vocation, to secure an adviser In a sen¬ 
sible woman, in woman there la at once a subtle 
delicacy of tact and a plain soundness or Judg¬ 
ment which, are rarely combined to an equal 
degree In man. A woman, If she be really your 
friend, will have a sensible regard for your char¬ 
acter, honor and repute. She will seldom counsel 
you to do a shabby thing, for a woman friend al¬ 
ways desires to be proud of you. At the same 
time, her constitutional timidity makes her more 
cautious than your male friend. She, therefore, 
seldom counsels you to do an Imprudent thing. A 
mau’s best female friend Is a wife of good sense 
and heart. 
--— 
FEMALE PREACHERS. 
Miss Fanny E. Townsley and Miss Buck have 
concluded eleven days meetings with the Congre¬ 
gational church lu Wllllamstown, vt. The effort 
results In the hopeful conversion of between fifty 
and sixty, many of whom are heads of families, 
and hold Important positions In society, one con¬ 
vert is over so years old. Several have been re¬ 
claimed from drink arid profanity, and Christians 
are aroused, more especially the sisters. What¬ 
ever opinion a perBou may entertain Ju regard to 
the usefulness or female preachers, he cannot 
speak against these workers or their work, to this 
people, without seeing Uls judgment, lmpeachod. 
--♦-*-*- 
Mbs. Myra Clark Gaines Is credited with the 
following opinions: “O dear I” she sighed, “what 
is to become of our country/ I do wish the women 
had a voice in elections; t hey would soon settle 
! I matters! A woman’s instincts are much better 
, than a man’s logic. She may make a fuss about 
: lirt.le things, but In any great emergency she al- 
l ways comes up on the right side.” 
HUaMng for tljc flotutg, 
THE GOLD-FISH. 
Tuf. fisher saddles his winged horse 
On the noisy ocean, to take low course. 
The billows roll on the white sen strand 
As tho hardy fisherman rides from laud. 
He pulls then up bis fishing-hue. 
By the hook there dangles a gold-fish lino. 
He laughs in his sleeve, crying, ” Never. I wis, 
Saw 1 fish in gold raiment like unto this I” 
” Had I a pieco for each gOld-scalo fair, 
•T were fortunate fishing indeed, t swear,” 
The gold-fish fluttered and flapped with its fins, 
Dancing about round tho fisherman's shins. 
“Softly, thou gentleman, wealthy and proud, 
Thou canst not escape,” quoth the fisher, aloud. 
The gold-fish murmur’d and gasp'd for breath, 
Then began the oration that followeth: 
” Thou seest my wealth, poor fisherman I 
Give theo good fortune I will, and can ! 
“ Cast me again In the deep green sea, 
And happy gifts will l give to theo. 
“ My mother. Queen of all fish below, 
Shall give thee bolsters utul linen of snow. 
“ My father, a King far down in the sea, 
Healthy and happy shall render tliee. 
“ To nay lover who seeks ino down In the deep, 
Cast me, and still thou my riches shalt reap I” 
” If I to the oath of a fish give heed, 
The neighbors will laugh at me iudeed I 
” Thy bolsters and linen I care not to take, 
My own good woman can better make I 
“ But if to u lover thou plighted bo, 
Lovers shall never be sever’d by me.” 
He threw the tremulous fish in tho main— 
“ Lord, keep me from such a poor capture again I 
“ If to-morrow a like should bite at my line, 
I must starve, or devour it, X opine I” 
In his hut at, night, with an aspect wan, 
Speechless and sail, sat the fisherman. 
On the morrow morning his boat ho took, 
And warily baited his fishing hook. 
The moment his line 111 the sea ho throw, 
Tho float sank deep In tho waters blue. 
He quietly laughed in his sleeve, and thought, 
“ Once more a gold Jacketed fish have X caught I” 
Ho drew then up bis line—behold ! 
Ou the hook there dangled a guinea of gold. 
Again and again his line be flung, 
Never a fish to the hook there hung; 
But so often as he looked for a fish—behold 
Guinea ou guinea of precious gold. 
MARIE FAN0H0U j 
A Tale of the Siego of Paris, 1870. 
“ The small basket will be quite largo enough 
to hold all you will get to-day, my poor child I” 
said Mine. Fanehou sadly to her little daughter, 
who was Betting off to fetch their dally supply of 
miserable food, “you had better take the umbrel¬ 
la, tor l am afraid It will rain. And be sure you 
stand next to Mine. Amlre, If you can." 
Marie’s father had marched off to t he war, and 
her mother had been con lined to her bed for some 
time past with severe, rheumatic pains, 80 that 
she was obliged to send her only child, a girl of 
ten, In her stead, to await, xvltli a crowd of weary 
disheartened creatures, her turn at the place 
whore provisions were served out. I hope, dear 
little readers, you will never know the wretched 
discomfort they endured, standing there long 
hours lu the sharp wind and beating rain, with 
cold feet and still colder hearts, full of gloomy 
forebodings for tho unknown future. 
When Marie first went, Her kind neighbor, Mmc. 
Andre, had taken her under hrr wing; but, lately 
she hail not been able- to go, and so the poor child 
was obliged to take her chance alone, very often 
among rough aud unkind people, it. was 30 to¬ 
day, and she had no sooner arrived than she felt 
herself viciously poked lu the back by a girl who 
lived on the same floor as herself, and who was, I 
am sorry to say, ft very naughty girl. 
“What are you doing hero with an umbrella 
that’s bigger than yourself?” she. asked, pertly; 
“bow do you suppose you arc going to put It up 
It It does rain? Do you think l am going to let It 
peck my nose about, or pull down my hair, Just 
for your convenience ? " 
Mario colored Up and looked rather frightened. 
“ I thought Mine. Andre would perhaps be here,” 
“Well, what of that?” Interrupted the rude 
; gin, “ Mme. Andre does not, suppose you are the 
only person In the world to be kept dry. Perhaps 
you think I like to be rained on.” 
Marie did not reply; She had early learn.1 that 
a mild answer turns away anger. 
However, Caroline—for that was the other girl’s 
name—was still determined to torment the timid 
child as much as possible, so she continued, " l 
believe you have too much In your allowance! 1 
saw what you had tho other day, and 1 am sure It 
weighed as much as mine, and uurs has to be di¬ 
vided between three. I don’t, see why such a bit 
of a child as you should have as much as I do; be¬ 
sides, I dare say you eat half your mother's as 
well.” 
Tears sprang Into Marie’s eyes. 
“Oh, Caroline !” cried she; “how could you 
I say so, when you know i would go without food 
1 for a week If only it, would make mother well I I 
am sure you cannot mean what you say I” 
“Yes, I do, though, and-” 
But here a respectable woman, who was In 
front or Marie, turned round, and put herself be¬ 
tween the chill and her tormentor. 
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” said 
she, angrily, to the latter, “for teasing such a 
patient little soul. It seems to mo that you must 
know something of these tricks yourself, or you 
would not ha so ready to lay (hem to others.” 
Mademoiselle Caroline was tooabashed to reply 
to Marie's protectress, so she only made a grim¬ 
ace, which I think Is a paltry rovengo, frequently 
adopted by cowardly children; but as the good 
woman did not auoyt, Its effect was entirely lost 
on her. 
At length Marie received her share of the siego 
food, and, with a glad sigh of relief, turned her 
face homewards; but she had not got far on her 
way when she heard a scream, and, looking back, 
she saw that Caroline had slipped down aud that 
the contents of her basket were scattered on the 
ground. This was bad enough, but, terrible, to re¬ 
late, a poor, half-starved dog <l dare say ho was 
eaten up himself soon afterwards) had already 
seized a piece of meat, and was rushing off 
with It. 
Caroline sprang after him, followed by tho kind- 
hearted Mario, but tho dog ran too fast, for them, 
and, dashing down a stdo street, ho soon gobbled 
up bis stolon meat, far out of sight of the chil¬ 
dren. 
How Caroline cried aud sobbed I “ oh, Marie I” 
said she, “ I flare not go home; mother w III say it 
was all my fault. What shall l do ? Wo were all 
so hungry yesterday after supper! Francois said 
ho felt as U he had eaten nothing; and what shall 
we feed to-night, now that tho food has been lost? 
I am sure I dare not go home!” Aud the terrified 
French girl sat. down oirtono or the Boulevard 
seats and sobbed as If her heart would break. 
“Oh, don’t cry, Caroline 1” said Marie, In her 
tender, compasslonato voice; “It. Is not as If you 
meant to throw the meat away ; It was only an 
accident." 
“ But. mother will never believe that,” sobbed 
Caroline. 
“ I toll you what I will do,” suggested Mario, 
looking at. her own meager portion, “I will Just 
save mother the best bit, aud then you shall have 
my share—yes, Indeed you ahull,” she urged, for 
Caroline, whose conscience laid at lust pricked 
her, made a mot ion of refusal, 
“ 1 cannot take It,” she said; “ I cannot take It! 
I had better be scolded all day I ban feel that you 
are going famished to bed. Oh, It, Is so dreadful 
to be hungry I” added she, with a shudder. 
“Well then you vuiet, take 111” cried Marie, 
“ for It is better for one to lie hungry than three; 
anil very likely there will be enough left then for 
mother aud I. Foor mother, her appetite Is so 
bad 1” 
“ oh, Marie, how different, you arc to me!” said 
tho tearful Caroline, whose hard heart roll, an un¬ 
wonted piiug of regret at the thought of the cruel 
pleasure she had taken In causing pain go this 
generous friend In need, “1 never do anything 
kind to any one, and you not only give rno your 
food, hut when I treated you so badly Just now 
you did not even Ily into a passion! How different 
to inel I shall never bo anything but naughty 
andtielD h 
“ oh do not say that, Caroline 1 God 1s so good, 
that it you only ask him with all your heart he 
will make you love the things he lows, and then 
you will be so happy; It Is so easy to ask God for 
things, for he is always close to us, ho never 
makes you Walt; and, mother nays, there Is noth¬ 
ing pleases him more than to have children Uko 
| us wishing to please him, but 1 dare say you 
know all this, Caroline. You are not vexed with 
me for telling you it. over again, arc you, dear 7” 
Caroline had turned away her face, for hot 
tears of sorrow and remorse were running down 
her cheeks; sin 1 felt that the little Marie she had 
so despised was her superior in every way. 
A child walking in tlm sweet ways Of peace, full 
of love to the great Lord of all, and loving her 
fellow creatures for Ids sake. Yes, that, was the 
secret of Marie's gentleness. It Is easy to bo 
amiable and gentle when all goes well, but to be 
able to endure Injuries, and return good for evil, 
Is a grace that comes to us from God alone. 
“ You shall help me to be good,” said Caroline 
at length, “only it will be dreadfully difficult to 
get out of my bad ways." 
“ Not when God helps us,” returned Marie, with 
a smile. 
Those were sad limes; and soon after this, 
among the list of persons killed by the explosion 
of the cartridge manufactory In the Avenue ltapp 
we saw the name of a little girl, Marie Fanehou. 
CROSS-WORD ENIGMA, 
My first Is In earth but not In air, 
My second Is in diet but not In fare; 
My t hird Is In lower but nut in steeple. 
My fourth Is lu nation but not In people; 
My fifth Is in arm but not in Dice, 
My whole is tho name of a boy and place. 
S3?~ Answer In two weeks. J. s. a. 
•-- 
DIAMOND PUZZLE. 
1. A vowel, a. To finish. 8. Wild beast. 4. A 
country in Europe. 5. To instruct. 6. An Insect. 
T. A consonant, centrals form an Important sub¬ 
division of Europe. 
rzr Answer in two weeks. w. c. 
---- 
PUZZLER ANSWERS.-March 17. 
Curtailments. 1, Kent—Ken: 2, Oceana—Ocean; 
3 ’l.Kiii Louts; 4, Soda—Sod; 5. flomor- Home; 6, 
IVarl Pear ; 7, Leaf Lea; 8, Saiado-Halad; It Florida 
—Florid; 10. llccp— Dee; li. Haw—Htt; 12, Beaver— 
Heave; 13, Dog-»0. II. Yes Ye; 15, Spat—Spa; 16, 
Start ••Star . 17, Spum-Spur; 18, Drakes-Drake. 
Cimsn-wOHn Enigma.—G ermany. 
Philosophical l 1 nom.BM.-8<Xi pounds. 
