the kite never soared so proudly before or afterwards as it did then; though Jack's and Bob's children fly it to this day over breezy fields, and boast to the boys that if it is an old kite, it's a kite with a story.

The next day Mr. Harris came to see them, and took them all to a neat little cottage he had bought for them just out of the smoke and dust of the city. There was a little silver strip of river near, which wound in among the daisies and grass in a manner which delighted Bob's artist eye, and a bit of lawn in front of the house, with great drooping trees sweeping over it. Bob grew better and stronger every day in this new atmosphere, and O, they were so happy and so comfortable! Mr. Harris was

as benevolent as he was rich, and indeed he felt that he owed everything to Jack for saving the life of his only child, and he gave Bob every opportunity to become a great artist, and Bob improved those opportunities, and did become a great artist; and not only his family, but the whole country were proud of him. But he didn't make Jack a gentleman, because Jack was a gentleman already; and if you could hear fine folks now-a-days boasting of their acquaintance with Mr. James Flynn, the rich and philanthropic merchant, you would hardly believe that he was ever the ragged Irish boy Jack, who sailed away in the Heron at the beginning of my story.

THE FISHING-FROG.-Writers on natural history describe a hideous reptile known as the fishing-frog, whieh angles for its game as expertly and with as great success as the most adroit fly-fisher. He is a clumsy, awkward swimmer, but nature has compensated him for his unwieldiness by furnishing him with an equivalent for a rod and line, with bait always ready for use. Two elongated tentacles spring from his nose, which taper away like actual fishing-rods. To the end of them is attached by a slender filament, which serves the purpose of a line, a bait in the form of a shiny bit of membrane. The hooks are set in the mouth of the fisherman down below, and in order to induce the fish to venture within reach of them, the angler stirs up the mud at the bottom with his fins and tail. This attracts the fish and conceals him from their observation. He then plies his rod; the glittering bait glows in the water like a living insect. The dazed fish are taken in great numbers, perfectly circumvented by the trick of the crafty angler.

THE MILK TREE.-In a narrative of travels on the Amazon and Rio Negro, just published, Mr. Wallace describes an extraordinary tree called the milk tree, which was one of the first wonders he saw near Para. The fruit is eatable, and full of a rich and very juicy pulp; but strangest of all is the vegetable milk which exudes in abundance when the bark is cut. It has about the consistency of thick cream,

and but for a very slight peculiar taste, could scarcely be distinguished from the genuine produce of the cow. Mr. Leavens ordered a man to tap some logs that had lain nearly a month in the yard. He cut several notches in the bark with an axe, and in a minute the rich sap was running out in great quantities. It was collected in a basin, diluted with water, strained and brought home at tea-time, and at breakfast next morning. The peculiar flavor of the milk seemed rather to improve the quality of the tea, and give it as good a color as rich cream; in coffee it is equally good. The milk is also used for glue, and it is said to be very durable.

A LIVING POP-GUN.-There is a little fish, the chaetodon, abounding in the eastern seas, from Ceylon to Japan, which secures its prey by means of an instrument like the blow-pipe used by mischievous schoolboys for projecting peas and other means of torment. The nose of the fish is a kind of beak, through which he has the power of propelling a drop of water with force enough to disable a fly, preparatory to swallowing it. His aim is accurate, and he rarely misses his object. The unsuspecting fly sits on a spray of weed, a twig, or a tuft or grass, near the water, pluming himself in the warm rays of the sun. The fish cautiously places himself under the fly, stealthily projects his tube from the water, takes a sure aim, and lets fly. Down drops the little innocent, to be swallowed by the fish.

The 1st is in this, the 2d in that,
The 3d is in mouse, the 4th in rat,
The 5th is in these, the 6th in those,
The 7th is in thorn, the 8th in rose,
The 9th is in plump, the 10th in lean,
The 11th is in neat, the 12th in clean,
The 13th is in great, the 14th in little,
The 15th is in dish, the 16th in kettle,
The 17th is in home, the 18th in house,
The 19th is in moose, the 20th in mouse,
The 21st is in beast, but not in bird;
The whole is a saying often heard.
WILSON.

25.-Numerical Enigma.

The answer contains 9 letters, and is the name of a small Western city.

The 4, 8, 7, 2, is a fowl; the 6, 1, 5, 9, is a noxious plant; the 9, 7, 3, is an animal. CLARA M. BROWN.

Decapitations.

26. Behead to meditate, and leave to defraud the public.

27. To bar, and leave to suppress. 28. Dissension, and leave a deed.

ANNA KIRK

29.-Anagram.

"Hewn mada vedlde, nad vee naps, Rhewe saw neth het langtelmn ?" MEG ARLAND.

together?

19. The puts him in a ———.

20. Can you eat a of apple

The whole is my P. O. address.

E. E. F.

CREAM PIE.-For the inside, one egg, one-half cup of sugar, one-quarter cup of flour. Beat well, stir into one-half pint of boiling milk, and let it just come to a boil again; stir it while on the stove, then set away to cool. Make the crust the same as for other pies, and line the plate; spread some lard or butter on the top, and then put on another crust, and bake; when done, and nearly cold, take off the top erust, and put the cream into the lower one; then put the top one over the cream. A little essence of lemon may be stirred into the cream just before it is put into the crust.

for twenty minutes; sweeten, and flavor with lemon peel, or a tablespoonful of brandy.

GROUND RICE GRUEL.-Boil one tablespoonful of ground rice, rubbed smooth with cold water, in a pint and a half of milk, with a bit of cinnamon and lemon peel. Sweeten slightly, or season with

salt.

BATTER PUDDING.-One cup of milk, one cup of flour, one egg. If a large pudding is wanted, mix it in the same proportion. A little salt. Steam or boil.

POP-OVERS.-Four eggs, four cups of flour, four cups of milk, a small piece of melted butter, and a little salt. These should be baked in gem-tins or small cups, which should be previously heated. Bake in a hot oven.

FEATHER CAKE.-One cup white sugar, one cup sweet milk, two and a half cups of flour, one egg, piece of butter size of an egg, one teaspoon cream of tartar, one-half teaspoon of soda, flavor with lemon, and bake slowly.

MILK STAINS.-Milk stains on serge dresses may be removed by steeping the part in warm water.

MUFFINS.-Two eggs, one quart of flour, a pint of sweet milk, two ounces of butter, a gill of yeast, a teaspoonful of salt.

COLOGNE WATER.-One quart of alcohol, quarter of an ounce of the oil of lavender, and a quarter of an ounce of the oil of rosemary.

ICING.-Into the white of an egg, beaten till very light, stir six tablespoonfuls of powdered sugar, and spread over the cake while warm.

PLUM CAKE.-Nine pounds of flour, nine eggs, three pounds of sugar, one pint of yeast, one spoonful of rosewater. Spice to your taste; wet with milk.

A susceptible fellow, given to falling in love, relates the following:

When I was sixteen, I fell in love. There was nothing remarkable in that, for most. young men of that age do the same thing. But what I am going to tell you is, how my courtship terminated.

It was at a party I saw Sallie B—, who was one of the sweetest girls in all Ticktown; and, I tell you, she looked sweet in her white muslin balldress, with her hair falling loosely over her shoulders. I got an introduction, danced with her once, twice, thrice, and I was just the happiest man in all Ticktown.

Well, at last the party broke up; but I had an invitation to call on Miss B. That was all I wanted, and I didn't sleep much before Sunday evening-for that was the time fixed to call. I called; saw Miss Sallie to church-saw her home; and when I left I had a pressing invitation to call again, and I did not forget it, I assure you. At the end of a month I was completely

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gone. At last I resolved to "pop the question," and fixed on my next visit for the time, studied Courtship Made Easy" thoroughly, and concluded I was ready for the task.

The time arrived. Here I was, sitting by the side of my beloved, with my arm around her waist! I took her hand in mine, and screwed up my courage to say, "Dear Sallie, do you love me?" She made no answer; but her eyes were cast down, and I hopedyes, I was certain-she loved me. I put both my arms around her neck, and pressed one, two, three kisses on her rosy lips. She did not resist, but raised her head and said: "You're as bad as Sam Simmons!"

In the days when "boiled shirts" were a Sunday luxury, the owners of those articles had their names stamped on the bands below the plaits, and as the fashion of vests was not tolerated at that time (this was not in the "earlier years of the reign of George III."), the name of a man could be easily ascertained by glancing at the waistband, which was fully exposed to view. On one occasion Mr. Jones had attired himself hastily, and in the hurry had put on a shirt stamped with the name of his roommateJ. Owens. "Hello!" said a friend, "you've borrowed a biled shirt for your holiday." "Ono," said Jones, "this is my shirt." "Well, there's another man's name on it," pointing to the convincing proof, “J. Owens." But, as quick as a flash, when Jones saw his mistake he turned it to his advantage: "O, that is the way our Welsh folks spell the family name, J-o-w-e-n-s, Jowens, or Jones, as you call it! D'ye see?"

There is current a good story of a Scotch milkboy which may interest in these days of complaint about the adulteration of milk. A boy delivering milk was stopped the other day by two detective officers, who asked him if anything was put into it. "Ou, ay," was the answer.

Thereupon the officers, thinking they had a clear case, offered him a penny if he would tell them what.

"Ah," said he, with a grin, "ye wadna gie's the penny though I tell't ye."

"O yes, we will," said the officers. "Gies't then," returned the lad; and the penny was handed over with the question: "Now, what do you put in the milk?" "O," said the boy, with a cunning look, "I pit the measure in every time I tak' ony oot!""

That youth has a bright future before him.

To have a good wife is in itself cause enough to make a man proud, and when that wife adds to her good qualities the capability of taking care of herself, then, indeed, should the fortunate husband feel doubly happy. An Eastern man has such a wife, and Juno's pet bird cannot feel more proud than that man does. Having occasion to take a trip into the country, while making his adieus, he told his wife that in case 10 o'clock and himself should fail to arrive together, not to expect to see him until the next day. The day and evening passed away, and 10 o'clock came, but no husband. After waiting a while to give the husband "lee way," as all good wives should, she made preparations to retire. Before doing so she made a few trivial arrangements in the way of precautions against burglars. She placed a pistol within reach of her bed, and put a large butcher-knife-a sort of hybrid broad-swordunder her pillow. Scarcely had she turned off the gas when sounds of some one fumbling at the street door reached her ear. She listened and heard the door open, and heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs. Now was the time for action. Rousing her daughter and placing the knife in her hand, she shoved said daughter into a corner, and, possessing herself of a pistol, took her position in the opposite corner. Nearer and nearer came the steps, and finally the bedroom door swung open, a rasping sound was heard, and the tiny flame of a match illumined the scene, disclosing to the view of the startled woman her liege lord, who had returned by a late train. An examination of the weapons of defence disclosed the fact that the knife was duller than a charity sermon, and the pistol was devoid of a load.

A woodcock some little time back was sent as a tribute of respectful admiration by a sportsman to a French cure. Done to

a golden brown, reposing on the regulation slice of toast, the glorious morsel awaited the good priest's knife and fork, when he was called away for a moment. His absence was very short, but those few seconds allowed time for a miserable cat to make off with the expected treat-so, at least, said the bonne who had cooked and served up the bird. Easter came, and the good woman knelt before the confessional, which was occupied by her master. When her venial sins had been disposed of, she stopped short.

"Well, Catherine, go on," said the confessor-" others are waiting."

"I dare not, father." "Is it so very bad ?"

"Yes, yes, father. You remember that woodcock."

"The woodcock stolen by the cat-do I not!" cried the priest with a dolorous accent, which afforded another proof that time does not eradicate deep sorrows. "I was the cat!" gasped Catherine. "You ate it?" said the priest. Yes, father, next day." "And how ?" "Cold."

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"Cold-and you a cook who might so easily have made it into a salmi! Wretched woman, you shall not have absolution!"

A certain lad of five summers made his debut in one of the public schools recently. At night his mother asked if he had learned anything that day at school. "O yes," said the boy. "Well, what was it, my son?" inquired the anxious mother. "Well," said the pupil of one day, with an air of proud satisfaction, “I learned golly ""'

A Sabbath school teacher, desirous of waking the dormant powers of a scholar, asked the question, "What are we taught by the historic incident of Jacob wrestling with the angel ?" The cautious reply came, "Dunno, 'zactly, but s'pose 'twas to tell us that we mustn't rastle."

A Hartford gentleman, who had tarried late at a wine supper, found his wife awaiting his return in a high state of nervousness. Said she, "Here I've been waiting and rocking in a chair till my head swims round like a top." 66 Jess so where I've been," responded he; "it's in the air."