29 
adies 
ora 
l fialkriei an3 Pictorial BBEome 
aiapoLRian. 
She now flattens her nose against the window pane 
and wonders whether George has committed suicide or 
gone to China. 
The London Punch has this illustration of high life 
below stairs: 
Master (snuffing)—“There seems a most extraor¬ 
dinary smell, James; I’ve noticed it several—” 
Hall Porter —“ I don’t wonder at it, sir. I’ve 
spoke about it down stairs. The butler, sir, you see, 
is ’igh Church, which he ’as fit up a horatory in the 
pantry, and burns hiueense. We could stand that, 
but the cook is the Low Church persuasion, and she 
burns brown paper to bobviate the hincense. It’s 
perfectly hawful on saints’ days, sir.” 
He was sitting silently by her side one chilly even¬ 
ing last autumn, thinking of something to say. Fi¬ 
nally he remarked: 
“ How sad it is ; the frost has 
come , and will kill everything green.” 
Thereupon the young lady extended 
her hand and said in a sympathetic 
tone: 
“ Good-bye.” 
Pay Your Debts. —The Lara¬ 
mie Sentinel shows how a ten-dol¬ 
lar greenback is made to pay ninety 
dollars of indebtedness : 
Mr. Brown kept boarders. Around 
his table sat Mr. Brown, Mrs. Brown, 
Mrs. Andrews, the village milliner, 
Mr. Black, the baker, Mr. Jordan, a 
carpenter, and Mr. Hadley, a flour, 
feed, and lumber merchant. 
Mr. Brown took out of his pocket- 
book a ten-dollar note, and handed 
it to Mrs. Brown, saying: 
“Here, my dear, are ten dollars 
towards the twenty I promised 
you.” 
Mrs. Brown handed it to Mrs. 
Andrews, the milliner, saying: 
“ That pays for my new bonnet.” 
Mrs. Andrews said to Mr. Jordan, 
as she handed him the note : 
“That will pay you for your work 
on my counter.” 
Mr. Jordan handed it to Mr. Had- 
ley, the flour, feed, and lumber mer¬ 
chant, requesting his lumber bill. 
Mr. Hadley gave the note back 
to Mr. Brown, saying : 
“ That pays ten dollars on board.” 
Mr. Brown passed it to his wife, 
with the remark that that paid her 
twenty dollars he had promised. She 
in turn paid it to Mr. Black, to set¬ 
tle her bread and pastry account, 
who handed it to Mr. Hadley, wishing credit for the 
amount on his flour bill, he again returning it to Mr. 
Brown, with the remark that it settled for that month’s 
board. Whereupon Mr. Brown put it back into his 
pocketbook, exclaiming, that he “ never thought a 
ten-dollar bill would go so far.” 
An old woman, on being examined before a mag¬ 
istrate as to her place of legal settlement, was asked 
what reason she had for supposing her husband had 
a legal settlement in that town. 
The old lady said : 
“ He was born and married there, and they buried 
him there, and if that isn’t settling there, I would like 
to know what is ?” 
box, and he heard an awful noise in the church, so 
he looked out and saw his penitent dragging a sack. 
' “ Tady Mulloy,” says he, “what do you mean by 
such conduct as that in the church ? ” 
“ Sure, yer riverence,” says the fellow, “ dose is all 
1 Be de Holy Fathers,’ an’ the rest of uni’s outside on 
the dray.” 
The success of individuals in life is greatly owing 
to their early learning to depend upon their own re¬ 
sources. Mouey, or the expectation of it by inheri¬ 
tance, has ruined more men than the want of it ever 
did. If you teach young men to rely upon their own 
efforts, to be frugal and industrious, you furnish them 
with a productive capital which no man can ever wrest 
from them. 
A lady, living near St. Augustine, Florida, in a 
A priest was hearing confession, 
and a boy came to him and said he 
had a bad sin in his mind. 
“ Well, me good boy, come on wid it,” said his 
reverence. 
“ Augh, den, your riverence, I do be always sayin’ 
‘ Be the Holy Father.’ ” 
“You do?—that’s very bad, me boy. Now how 
often do you be sayin’ that ?” 
“ Begor, more than forty times a day, your river¬ 
ence. 
“ Go home now,” said the priest, “ and get your 
sister to make you a bag and hang it round your neck, 
and every time you say ‘ Be the Holy Father,’ drop 
a little stone in it, and come to me this day week.” j 
That day week his reverence was as usual in his 
lovely place, so tamed the wild birds of the woods by 
kindness, that mocking birds and blue birds, blue jays, 
robins, and brown birds used to come and feed out of 
her hands, and she was frequently visited by parties 
who wished to see the wonder. Not long ago some 
visitors to town, hearing of it, went out for sport, shot 
some, and so drove the rest away forever. 
“ George,” said a maiden, as she smiled archly in 
her lover’s face, “ do you know what there is in a 
grand achievement that reminds me of you ? ’ 
George’s eye lit with pleasure, and there was a lov¬ 
ing tenderness in the glance with which he replied : 
“No, darling ; please tell me.” 
“ Big feat,” replied the maiden. 
limbing* 
THE CURE FOR GOSSIP. 
What is the cure for gossip? Simply, culture. 
There is a great deal of gossip that has no malignity 
in it. Good-natured people talk about their neigh¬ 
bors because, and only because, they have nothing else 
to talk about. As we write, there comes to us a 
picture of a family of young ladies. We have seen 
them at home, we have met them in galleries of art, 
we have caught glimpses of them going from a book 
store or a library, with a fresh volume in their hands. 
When we meet them they are full of what they have 
seen and read. They are brimming with questions. 
One topic of conversation is dropped only to give place 
to another, in which they are inter¬ 
ested. We have left them, after a 
delightful hour, stimulated and re¬ 
freshed; and during the whole hour 
not a neighbor’s garment was soiled 
by so much as a touch. They had 
something to talk about. They knew 
something, and wanted to know 
more. They could listen as well as 
they could talk. To speak freely of 
a neighbor’s doings and belongings 
would have seemgd an impertinence 
to them, and, of course, an impro¬ 
priety. They had no temptation to 
gossip, because the doings of their 
neighbors formed a subject very 
much less interesting than those 
which grew out of their knowledge 
and their culture. 
And this tells the whole story. 
The confirmed gossip is always 
either malicious or ignorant. The 
one variety needs a change of heart, 
and the other a change of pasture. 
Gossip is always a personal confes¬ 
sion either of malice or imbecility, 
and the young should not only shun 
it, but by most thorough culture re¬ 
lieve themselves from all temptation 
to indulge in it. It is a low, frivol¬ 
ous, and too often a dirty business. 
There are country neighborhoods in 
which it rages like a pest. Churches 
are split in pieces by it. Neighbors 
are made enemies by it for life. In 
many persons it degenerates into a 
chronic disease, which is practically 
incurable. Let the young cure it 
while they may.— Scribner. 
“Fair Treasures.” 
