Iltaiihtg for t|r gouttg. 
ONLY A BOY. 
Only a boy, with bin noise and fun. 
The veriest mystery under the sun; 
As brimfull of mischief and wit and glee, 
As ever human frame can be. 
And as hard to manage as—ah! ahjnie! 
’Tie hard to tell, 
Ve t we love him well. 
Only a boy, with liis fearful tread. 
Who cannot be driven, but must be led; 
Who troubles the neighbors' dogs and cats, 
And who tears more clothes and spoils more hats, 
Loses more tops uud kites and bats, 
Than would stock a store 
For a year or more. 
Only a boy. with his wild, strange ways-, 
With his idle hours on busy days; 
With his (|Uoer remarks and his odd replies. 
Sometimes foolish and sometimes wise. 
Often brilliant for one of his size, 
A« a meteor hurl’d 
From the pleasant world. 
Only a boy, who will be a man 
If Nature goes on with her first great plan— 
If water, or lire, or some fatal snare 
Conspire not to rob us of this our heir. 
Our blessing, our trouble, our rest, our care, 
Our torment, our joy— 
“ Only a boy." 
-• ♦ » 
MY DOG “ SPORT.” 
I have always loved dogs, and dogs have always 
loved me. I cannot recall a time In my life when 
I was afraid of a dog, and 1 never know a dog to 
he cross to me. We understood each other. Dogs, 
like people, soon find out who tlu lr friends are, 
and till the sympathy of their dog nature warms 
uji to them. 1 endure cats, 1 fancy birds, I like 
horses; bull love dogs with a real human love. 
I have been the owner of a good many, and their 
memory is fragrant with mo yet.. 
But the best and loveliest, of them all was Sport, 
lie was as handsome as a picture—of a rich brown 
color, with large, liquid eyes, full of Inexpressible 
tenderness, long, silken ears, that reached nearly 
to the ground, a short pug nose, and square, In¬ 
tellectual head, lie was a rare beauty. People 
would always stop and look round at him as he 
passed. Thieves tried to steal him; hut he was 
1 ,oo cunning lor them. 
He understood language, as far as his range of 
words went, as well as a man; yes, better than 
some men 1 know. He would watch my every 
motion, and at the slightest hint would be off 
like a shot to do iny bidding. If 1 told him to 
take a man's hat otT In the Street (Which, 1 am 
sorry to say. I have done), he would give a spring 
to his shoulders and bring me the hat before the 
man had time to get over hla scare and look 
round, (sometimes, It I left home and hud forgot¬ 
ten something, It would be enough to say, “ Sport ( 
‘handkerchief!' ‘poeketbook! ’ ‘gloves! "’when 
away ho would go, soon after returning with the 
article In his month. 
I was once bathing in the Delaware. After 1 
had dressed and gone a tulle from the place, 1 
found that I had left my necktie. I looked at 
Sport, pointed al my neck, and said; “Bring It." 
Before the words were fairly spoken he was off, 
and In a qa irter of an hour returned with the tie 
In his mouth. 
I used to play hide and seek with him. 1 would 
turn him out of the room and then hide my hand¬ 
kerchief. lie always heat me. I would put It 
under the carpet, Inside the piano, stuff It clown 
fellow went for It; but Sport ’s teeth rat tied more 
furiously than ever. I offered him double fare if 
he would get It; but It was of no use. Sport was 
too much for him; and even after I had called, 
him otf duty he eyed the. man suspiciously, and 
never left blrn till the valise was safely home. 
Once only was Bport disobedient, lie was sub¬ 
jected to a temptation too great for even his great 
dog heart. Wo had sailed across and down t he 
river In a large yacht; when anchoring, we took 
a small skiff ui hunt, in t.no reeds for ducks, bid¬ 
ding sport, remain on the yacht and keep watch. 
We were gone about an hour, hud tired a tew 
shots, and then ret urned to the yacht,. But Sport, 
was not there. Wo called him, whistled tor him, 
fired our guns; but In vain. Wo spent hours 
seeking lor him among me roods. Fruitless 
search! Ho was not there. We thought, him 
lost to 11 s forever, and, with sud hearts, at night¬ 
fall returned home. But Sport was ahead of us. 
He was lying on the grass at the landing, wait¬ 
ing; but. too weary to rise even. Ho could only 
wag his tail, and that faintly. 
We saw at once what, was the matter. He had 
heard t he shooting while on the yacht, and In a 
moment, of excitement had forgotten the com¬ 
mand to stay, and Jumped Into the water. Not 
being able to swim through the reeds to us, he re¬ 
turned to the yacht,; but the sides were too high 
to climb up. Alter, probably, many fruitless 
efforts, he started Tor home on the side or the 
river—a long swim against the current; but he 
accomplished tt. It cost him dearly, though. He 
grew quite deaf, and lost his ambition from that 
day. 
Soon afterward, while walking on the railroad, 
and, unable to bear an approaching train, ho was 
run over and killed. How sad we were! 1 felt 
that I had lost a friend to whom 1 was ail the 
world. I wonder sometimes If there Is no after¬ 
life for one like him. The liue between his in¬ 
stinct, and a soul's Intelligence was very faint,. 
The depth of his affection was wonderful. Poor 
dear sport! Would that my arms were around 
thy neck and thy soft, silken ears were resting on 
my check now 1 Thy place can never be filled.— 
ifee. Thomas Shari, 
-♦»» 
LETTERS FROM BOYS AND GIRLS. 
Connecticut Cirl Speaks. 
Dear cousins Good afternoon I Here I am— 
behold me! a Connecticut girl. An for hed-qullts, 
that subject has long since been worn thread¬ 
bare, and not even a corner could be found to harp 
on, provided I fell disposed, which I do not. 
Therefore, be satisfied, girls, If 1 say I know what 
a bed-quilt is. I think some of the correspondents 
to this column— some or the boys—struck the llrst 
stroke In the war of words between the.two sexes 
quite bravely but when they saw that their lilt.-, 
were about to he returned, fled from the Held, and 
have not dared to show their faces since. For 
shame! boys, Is (hot your courage ? 01 hors, such 
as Slay ekofcgnckit, w ill not leave the Held until 
they are taken, although the girls arc trying their 
best to rout them. Young men, you had better 
Close your mouths on tho subject of a woman’s 
tongue. I never saw one yet that could compete 
with a man’s when he commenced talking on a 
political subject. Hush 1 don't interrupt me. It 
might he a good thing if Slayekoiconceit took 
care to slay the. conceit in himself before ho at¬ 
tempted to do so In Others. Ono can see at llrst 
sight that he Is an old bachelor, and has not a sis¬ 
ter to show him what a true lady Is. l agree per¬ 
fectly with Adki.r W. in regard to her opinion of 
him. Solomon Sav I consider love-cracked, and 
because no laity will be foolish enough to have 
him, ho has denounced them as “giddy, helpless 
creatures.’’ That Is only because you envy them. 
ent situation, so I think It advisable for me to say 
adieu.—P rairie Jem. 
Why Don’t You all Write? 
Dear Cousins :—If so I may call call you, for I 
desire to be admitted to your ranks, I presume 
what. I have to say won’t he very interesting to 
you, though I can talk fast enough. I agree with 
Floy that -we drop the subject of quilt piecing, 
for It Is getting rather tiresome. Will An.iR T. 
please tell us her surname ? Our initials are me 
same. I think I can answer Gertrude M. W.Y? 
question aa to the oldest town in the I cited 
States: It is St. Augustine, In the eastern part of 
Florida. Why doesn't. Young Naturalist Dili us 
ot some more 01 his nimble ;, and why don’t you 
all write oftener? Now, I'm not Gypsy Belle, 
or Prairie Chicken, or even Mvbtlk, but plain 
Cousin (?)—Allik. 
Look to your Laurels. 
Dear Cousins,— It has been a long time since 1 
have written, but 1 have been reading t he letters, 
of all the papers. Young orator must be a regular 
peace maker, but Rocky Mountain Joe! He mast, 
have been exhausted after writing hla last 
letter. Its evident, that he doesn’t Intend to bo 
driven “from tho Held." Scotch hassle, T see you 
are not afraid to speak to your "betters," your 
letters are full of life, do write again. AllieT. 
asked a Bible question. Who was smote In the 
temple with ft nail? it was Slsera, was it, not? 
I have a Bible question too. What was Paul’s 
father’s name? Please answer. -Independence. 
HIDDEN HOUSEHOLD ARTICLES. 
1. Look at t hat, black spot. 
2. Can you span an octave ? 
3. What, Philip! Late again. 
4. Dip Perry some water from the spring. 
6 . I see you are glad, Levi. 
6 . Lively music upon Sunday Is wrong. 
7. Did you stab Lena ? 
8 . We lived the past over again. 
0 . Here’s a letter for Kate. 
10 . Ask N. If Emma Is home. 
11. Is the apple sauce ready? 
12. “Strayed, lost or stolen.” 
13. You must turn the other way. 
14. Make your bow, little daughter. 
15. He severed the Jugular vclu. 
16. Not send, but deml, John. 
17. At the tavern bar religion turns pale. 
18. Bob, ask Efcllo to go with us. 
19. ’Twas an old buck, Ettle. 
20. Don’t let the door slam, Peter. 
21. Yes, Peg; riddles are hard to guess. 
22 . Did the cake turn, Ernest? 
23. Take a nap, kind friend. 
Answer in two weeks. Little One. 
CROSS-WORD ENIGMA. 
My first Is In corn hut not In oats, 
My second Is In sheep but uot In goats; 
My third Is tn new' hut not In old. 
My fourth Is In platlmi but not In gold; 
My fifth Is In Ben hut not, tn Jim, 
My sixth Is In brilliant but not in dim; 
My seventh Is In anon but. not In ever, 
My eighth Is m chamois hut not in heaver; 
My ninth is m addle hut not In rot, 
My tenth Is in villa hut not In cot. 
My whole was the principal event of 1S76. 
8*r Answer In two weeks. Md. 
-- 
FAITH. 
Is not all this world a lie. 
Wherein, to love and seek our love, we grope 
Through darkness, and live and die 
Without fulfillment of onr sweetest hope? 
Is not nil this life a lie. 
For that in the dear peife-ctncss we clasp 
Sometime, a phantom doth lie 
In our arms instead, or etude the grasp! 
Or in that oiir belief 
In endless day, a darker night succeeds- 
When Joy lias begotten grief. 
And overthrown our trust—our firm eel creeds? 
We are but helpless, at best; 
Each one and all. We twine the warp and woof 
Of hops: lime weavelli the rest. 
And broiden*. or Pars the frail threads aloof, 
Toleavo but our own despair! 
Faithful, we seek Ibc faultlesH; do we find 
The realization there 
Of all our day dreams—or emptiness behind! 
Ah! deep tn our licarte to know 
How aimless the seeking! The strong tide drifts— 
Placid, rfsistleee, slow— 
To the one great ending tho future lifts. 
And our only sacrament 
Is in our counterpart, it seems to me; 
The perfect f ulftllment 
Lies just bej’ond the Higher, shimmering sea! 
- ■■ » ♦+-- 
THE OLD DISCIPLE. 
Tiiere is something peculiarly dignified and 
gentle In the experience of aged believers whose 
serene piety and mellowed characters develop 
the child-spirit, or the genuine disciple. We see 
the last tints glowing on the guidon grain; the 
shock of corn cotnlhgln In Its season, when It is 
lully ripe. How beautiful Is that single memorial 
in the Acts of the Apostles: "And Mnason, nn 
Old disciple." That is all we know of him, but 
that Is enough to let us see “ the crown of glory " 
silvering his noble head. There It. will stand as 
long as the world lasts, a monumental Inscription 
more enduring than brass. “Second childhood," 
In the common meaning or the words, indicates 
the painful lapse of age into childishness. But 
there is a “second childhood" which is the 
beautiful chlldilkenesa of the hoary heud when it 
Is “ found In the way of righteousness." Then it 
becomes “a crown of glory.” It Is not merely 
“growing old gracefully,” but growing old graci¬ 
ously, which makes the beauty of reverend age. 
Not seldom we may see the gradual mellowing of 
character, like the ripening of golden grain In the 
waving harvest field. It bends and sways berore 
the breeze as readily as when it was still green; 
hut Its waves are tinted with sunset hues, aud 
every day makes it more ready for the sickle, 
infirmities of the flesh scarcely touch the spiritual 
part, and even amid the weakening of both mind 
and body the refining process goes on silently, 
but with Increasing power; unconsciously, per¬ 
haps, to the subject of it, but manifest to all 
around. Sometimes old ago Is peevish, rretful, 
cross and morose, but where grace Is working, it 
as often loses its asperity and softens Into serene 
and happy contentment. And then, when sick¬ 
ness brings the latter day \ Islonsof eternal things 
close to view, how gently floes the Lord our 
Shepherd lead down Into the valley, and beside 
the st ill waters, for His own name’s sake '.—Chris¬ 
tian Intelligencer. 
-♦-» »- 
PERSONIFICATION OF NATURE. 
behind tho sofa-seat; but ho always found It, 
Once 1 put It on top of the curtain-cornice. lie 
had a long hunt that time ; tint. at. last lie mount¬ 
ed on a eliatr, looked up. gave a long sniff, then 
wagged ills tall and whined. llo couldn’t get at 
It, but told toe plainly enough where It was. 
One Sunday night 1 came home from church 
very tired, and thought I would see if he could 
get my slippers. I took off my hoots, and, points 
ing to my feet, said: “ Sport, slippers! ’’ It was 
a new word to him. He looked it me sharply; 
then at my feet.; then away lie went to my bed¬ 
room and brought my nightgown, seeing ray 
boots off, and knowing It was near bedtime, he 
thought that was whuf I wanted. I shook ray 
head: “No, no; " and again pointed to my feet. 
“Slippers, see!" showing the uncovered foot. 
Away he went the second time, returning with 
t he bom jack. I said, “ No, no." lie looked at. me 
again Inquiringly, turned Ills head on one side, 
then dashed off tho third time, with a sharp 
yelp. This time ho got them; uud oh ! how glad 
and proud he was when I patted him approving¬ 
ly. lie never made a mistake uboutsllppora alter 
that. 
Of all dogs he was the most falthrul. H I put 
anything In Ills charge, he would guard It for 
hours, and I believe lie would have sacrificed his 
life rather than desert It. Put him beside esleep- 
lug child and say, “ Watch! ” and woe betide any 
one who should disturb that child. 
Once I came to the city tn a steamboat. 1 put 
my valise on tho fore-deck and told Sport to 
watch it. lie lay down with ids paw upon It and 
his sharp eyes unclosed. When t ho boat reached 
the landing a colored porter rushed up to me. 
crying out: “Baggage? baggage.’" "Yes," I 
said, “ take that valise," pointing toll,. 11c sprang 
for It; hut sport made a snap at him that soon 
drove him hack. He tried In vain to get posses¬ 
sion of 11 by artifice. I stood by, laughing. 
The porter saw the Joke and went ashore to 
call a comrade. “ Here, Pete,” he said, “take that 
gen’lman’s valise. I’m full.” Away the second 
sir—only another proof of “fox and the grapes.” 
1 liked Hayseed's tetter much, aud liopu he will 
write again. All 1 have said concerning Slaykk- 
ofconceit, he may analyse and parse, and If he 
does this with an unbiassed Judgment he, I thlnlc, 
will find It very true. Now, Mr. Conceit, acknowl¬ 
edge and be bravo.—cuo. 
Information Wanted and Civen. 
Dear Editor :—It Is Sunday morning. All Is 
silent—not a sound to be heard In the whole house. 
There! Our little birds, Bonnie and Grade, are 
chirping. My father Is a farmer, and wo Jive 1# 
miles frt'in the city. It Is a very pleasant place, 1 
thlnlc My father has been a reader of your val¬ 
uable paper almost twenty years, and has taken 
It almost that long, l do not know what I should 
do If it were not for the Rural. I think the “ Wo¬ 
man’s Acre” just splendid, and also the Boys’ and 
(•iris’ Letters. I agree with Alice v. about writ¬ 
ing 60 Ill-naturedly or each other. Let us all he 
meek and gentle, like Utile lambs. We have fif¬ 
teen lambs. But I must not make my letter too 
long. Or I rear It will find lt.seIt In the waste bask¬ 
et. If It (lots not, I will write aud tell you all 
about our place. I should like to ask, which Is 
t he Editor, Uncle True or Uncle Mark, or either 
of them v— Black-eykd Helen. 
From Crasshopperdom. 
My most highly esteemed cousins, permit me to 
occupy a small space in this Important column, 
i his Is my first attempt at this great and marvel¬ 
ous work. so 1 will not. have tho audacity to even 
think lieu I can get on a level with some ot my 
aristocratic and conceited relatives, especially 
Youno Editor No. 2; but perhaps I can help my 
own sex a little—not that 1 thluk tt the weakest 
party, but “the more the merrier,” was the say¬ 
ing or some or our predecessors. This is one of 
those dclightul June mornings which expand 
and animate, the spirits, and make one feel ca¬ 
pable of a greater undertaking than they arc ca¬ 
llable of mastering, and I guess that Is my pres- 
CROSS PUZZLE. 
l. A lake of Soudan. 2. Tart of Africa. 3. Part 
of Arabia. 4. A city of nolland. 5. A German 
State. 6. A city ot Prussia. 7. A city of France, 
s. A city of France. 9. A city of Italy. 10 . A town 
of Austria, ll. A town of Holstein. 12. A city of 
Italy. Centrals form part of Germany, 
car* Answer In two weeks. Balto. 
DOUBLE ACROSTIC. 
1. An affirmative reply. 2. A city of New York. 
3. A part of the human body. 4. A bird. Pri- 
mals and finals form Islands belonging to Great 
Britain. 
bit Answer In two weeks. Mrs. d. 
TRANSPOSITION. 
Conk puno a dlmglntb redray, 
Llwhe I nopredde, keaw dan yarew, 
Veor nyma a nuqalt nad rucousl 
Molevou fo trogtonet role. 
Answer In two weeks. Balto. 
TRIPLE ACR08TIC. 
1. A city of Prussia. 2. A State capital. 3. Un¬ 
willing. 4. A man’s name. 5. A river of Sene- 
garnhla. Prlmals, centrals and finals form foreign 
cities. 
8*" Answer In two weeks. Dr. 
-- 
PUZZLER ANSWERS.-June 9. 
Maltese Cross.— 
ASHES 
W Y E 
D D B 
AD K E B U 
MINGBELIA 
ON GAO NN 
N B O 
WAG 
INDIA 
Triple Acrostic.— Claude, Philip, Nathan. 
Central Puzzle.— Summer. 
Double Acrostic.— Primals, Virgo; finals, Libra. 
Jn Currer Bell’s “Shirley ’• occurs the following 
personification or Nature •- “The gray church and 
grayer tombs look divine with the crimson gleam 
on them. Nature is now at her evening prayers; 
she Is kneeling before t hose red hills. I see her 
prostrate on the great steps of her altar, praying 
for a fatr night for mariners' at sea, for travelers 
In deserts, for lambs in moors, and unfledged 
birds in woods. ... I saw, I now see, a 
woman-Tllan. Her robe of blue air spreads to 
the outskirts of the heath, where yonder flock Is 
grazing; a veil, white as an avalanche, sweeps 
from her head to her feet, and a arbesqnes of light¬ 
ning llame on Its borders. Under her breast I seo 
her zone, purple like that horizon; through its 
blushes shines the star of evening. Her steady 
eyes 1 cannot picture—they are clear, they are 
deep as lakes, they are lifted and full ot worship, 
they tremble with the softness of love and the 
luster of prayer. Her forehead has the expanse 
of a cloud, and is paler than the early moon, risen 
long before dark gat hers; she reclines her bosom 
on the ridge of Stllbro’ Moor, her mighty hands 
are joined beneath It. So kneeling, lace to face 
she speaks with God.” 
■ ■ ■» ♦» - 
PUTTING ON CHRIST. 
Do you put him on when you undertake to copy 
some one or more ot the virtues or characters In 
him—the gentleness, for example, the love, the 
dignity—without being willing to accept the sac¬ 
rifice In him, Dj bear the world’s contempt with 
him, fo be singular, to be hated, to go through 
your Gethsemanc, and groan with him under the 
burdens of love ? There, can be no choosing out 
here of shreds aud patelies from ills divine beau¬ 
ty ; hut you must take tho whole suit, else you 
cannot put him on. The garment Is seamless, 
aud cannot he divided.—Horace BushnelL 
-♦♦♦- 
If you can not pray as you would, nor as you 
should, pray as well as you can. 
