A HOME IN THE HEART. 
0! ask not a home in the mansions of pride, 
Where marble shines out in the pillars and walls 1 
Though the roof he of gold, it is brilliantly cold, 
And joy may not be found in its torch lighted halls. 
But seek for a bosom all honest and true, 
Where love, once awakened, will never depart; 
Turn, turn to that breast, like the dove to its nest, 
And you’ll find there’s no home like a home in the heart. 
O, link, but one spirit that’s warmly sincere, 
That will brighten your pleasure, and solace your care; 
Kind a soul vou mav trust, as the kind and the great, 
And be sure the wild world holds no treasure so rare 1 
Then the frowns of misfortune may shadow our lot. 
The cheek-searing tear-drops of sorrow may start, 
But a star never dim sheds a halo for him ; 
Who can turn for repose to a home in the heart. 
Eliza Cook. 
A Party of belated gentlemen, about a certain 
hour, began to think of home and their wives’ 
displeasure, and urge a departure. “ Never mind,” 
said one of the guests, “ fifteen minutes will make 
no difference; my wife is as mad now as she can be. 
There is still a live law in Massachusetts which 
fines a young man $5 if he walks out with his girl 
after sundown. Those old law-makers didn’t know 
beans about the best time to talk love and eat ice-cream 
i and buy peanuts. 
“What are you about?” inquired a lunatic of a cook, 
who was industriously picking the feathers from a 
fowl.—“Dressing a chicken,” answered the cook.— 
“I should call that undressing,” replied the crazy 
fellow. The cook looked reflective. 
What Happened at an Auc¬ 
tion. —An auction sale of old furniture 
and goods of a hotel, occurred not long 
since at Colchester, Conn. Part were 
sold first day, and adjournment made 
to election day. Those who bought 
at the first sale found the things so full 
of bed-bugs, that the second sale looked 
very hard. The auctioneer came into 
the Town Hall and invited the people 
to go over to the auction. He stood on 
the bench and gave out his invitation, 
after he got through, a large, tall Dutch¬ 
man who stood by him, spoke up loud 
enough for all to hear : “ Shentlmen you 
go over dare, and buys some tings, you 
gets so many bed-bugs, dey carry your 
tings home for you. I buys a shtraw 
tick dare, and gets more bugs than I 
gets shtraw, you can never more get 
me to buy some ting there.” The roar 
that followed was tremendous, and not 
a bid could be got for anything in the 
house. 
Miss Kate Pield narrates in The 
Graphic these stories of “ The Country 
Parson : ” Two trustworthy men assured 
me that they have seen the Rev. Dr. 
Boyd deliver a sermon in white kid- 
gloves. More than one related to me 
the following story : Traveling one day- 
in a railway carriage, “ The Country 
Parson ” had for his neighbor a plainly 
dressed but extremely intelligent man, 
in whose conversation he- became much 
interested. On finding that the stran¬ 
ger intended getting out at the town in 
which he resided, he expressed his de¬ 
sire to invite the clever unknown to 
dinner, but added that it would be impossible, as Mrs. 
Boyd always required gentlemen to dress for dinner. 
Having made this graceful speech, the parson ex¬ 
changed cards with the Duke of Argyle ! The parson 
stammered; the parson apologized; the parson was 
snobbish enough to eat his own words, and beg of the 
Duke to waive ceremony. It is unnecessary to say 
that the Duke of Argyle did not waive ceremony, and 
that the story has flown from one end of Scotland to 
the other. 
“Well, what can I do for you?” said Damon, of 
the Milwaukee Poor Department to a Ninth ward 
female all tags and tatters. “ I’d like a cord o’ wood, 
a bag o’ flour, and if ye don’t mind, Mister, a daily 
paper for six months, jest to see how this Beecher 
trial is a cornin’ out, ye see.” 
The Fair Artist. 
There is a kind of grim humor in the address of 
a devout deacon to his newly-settled pastor as he gave 
| him the usual welcome : “ The Lord keep you hum- 
' ble and we will keep you poor.” 
A Frenchman learning the English language 
: complained of the irregularity of the verb “ to go,” 
, the present tense of which some wag had written out 
for him as follows : “ I go ; thou startest; he departs; 
i we make tracks; you cut sticks ; they absquatulate 
or skeddadle.” 
“ Who is that a statue of?” asked a lady of her 
husband, pointing to an Apollo.—“ The Apollo 
i Belvidere.” “ Law ! how affectionate you are, my 
I love ! And now, darling, who was Apollo Belvy ? ” 
An explanation on pronunciation followed. 
A good, deacon making an official visit to a dying 
neighbor, who was very churlish and universally an 
unpopular man, put the usual question : Are you wil¬ 
ling to go, my friend ? ” “ Oh, yes,” said the sick man 
“I am.” “Well,” said the simple-minded deacon, 
“I am glad you are, for all the neighbors are willing.” 
Gushing Expressions. —The absurd use of cer¬ 
tain words by young ladies is well set forth by the 
following: Did anybody ever hear a gushing young 
lady tell what she thought about anything extraordi¬ 
nary? Well, that’s nothing to what they write. We 
have analyzed a short story written by one of them, 
and find that “splendid” occurs sixty-four times: 
“ beautiful,” seventy-seven; “ nice,” six hundred 
and eleven; “delightful,” sixty-one; and “lovely,” 
sixty-three. 
A Minister was soliciting aid to 
foreign missions, and applied to a gen¬ 
tleman, who refused him, with the 
reply, “ I don’t believe in foreign mis¬ 
sions. I want what I give to benefit my 
neighbors.” “Well,” replied he, 
“ whom do you regard as your neigh¬ 
bors?” “Why, those around me.” 
“ Do you mean those whose land joins 
yours ? ” inquired the minister. “ Yes.” 
“ Well,” said the minister, how much 
land do you own ? ” “ About five hun¬ 
dred acres.” “ How far down do you 
own?” “Why, I never thought of it 
before, but I suppose I own half-way 
through.” “ Exactly,” said the cler¬ 
gyman; “ I suppose you do, and I 
want this money for the New Zealan¬ 
ders—the men whose land joins yours 
on the bottom.” 
It was a rich old widow who wonder¬ 
ed that the handsome young man had 
fallen in love with her. “ Yes, it is 
wonderful,” said Mr. Sprucup; “but 
I do love you to distraction; why, I 
even love the ground you walk on.” 
“ I thought so,” observed the widow; 
“ but I am not in want of a landlord at 
present.” 
An old colored preacher in At¬ 
lanta, Georgia, was lecturing a youth 
of his fold about the sin of dancing, 
when the latter protested that the Bible 
plainly said: “There is a time to 
dance.” “ Yes, dar am a time to 
dance,” said the dark divine, “ and 
it’s when a boy gits a whippin’ for 
gwine to a ball.’ 
A Voter on a train when asked by the conductor 
for his ticket, said : “ I have (hie) made a d-r-e-f-f-u-1 
mistake; voted my (hie) railroad ticket ’stead of the 
(hie) Democratic ticket.” 
My dear, said a husband to his better half, after 
a quarrel, “you will never be permitted to go to 
heaven.” “Why not?” “Because you will he 
wanted as a torment down below. 
Labor is sweet, for Thou hast toiled, 
And care is sweet, for Thou hast cared; 
Ah, never let our works be soiled, 
With strife, or by deceit ensnared 
Through life’s long day, and death’s dark night, 
O, gentle Jesus, be our Light. 
