Just as he was concluding, Amos Kendall, who sat beside him, whispered, "Tip 'em a little Latin, general; they wont be satisfied without it." The "hero of New Orleans" instantly thought of a few phrases he knew, and, in a voice of thunder, wound up bis speech by exclaiming; "E pluribus unum, Sine qua non, Ne plus ultra, Multum in parvo." The effect was tremendous, and the shouts could be heard for miles.

A couple of laboring men lately had a dispute before the Westminster court, and, after hearing a portion of it, the judge suggested it was a case that might be settled out of court-he was about to adjourn for luncheon, and in the meantime the parties had better try what they could do. They retired, and, seeking as private a place as they could find, stripped and set to for several rounds in the old P. R. style, believing they were obeying the injunction of the judge to "settle" their dispute out of court. On the court resuming, the parties reappeared, when his honor inquired whether they had settled their difference. "O yes, your honor," was the answer. "Why, you've been fighting!" said the judge, observing the ruffled appearance of the parties.

"Yes sir; you told us to settle it, and we have had it out."

"Dear me?" said the judge; "you completely misunderstood me. I feel as if I had been a party to a breach of the law. Go away now, and don't settle any more disputes in that manner."

A lady acquaintance read the following paragraph in a paper: "A young wife once cured her husband of a disposition to absent himself from home at night by providing a good dinner, and saying to him afterward, George, if you find a sweeter spot than our home, describe it to me, and I will rival it if I die in the attempt.' A kiss and a few tears completed the victory." This lady acquaintance tried the game on her husband. He wasn't melted a bit; he merely said, "When you can get the boys to come here and smoke cigars and talk politics, and you set up a keg of lager, you can count me in. I like the company of the boys, I do." Our lady saw that sentiment had no effect on him. So she didn't throw herself on his neck and hug and wet his paper collar with her tears; but she

took a saucer and fired it at his head, and followed it up with a cup, and ended it by slinging a dish of strawberries on his shirt bosom. Since that time he has been an exemplary husband. Yet he does seem very anxious for her to visit her dear mother as often as four or five times a week.

There was a young man in Chicago,
And he said, "May I to your pa go
And ask for your hand

And your houses and land ?"
This timid young man from Chicago.

There was a young girl in Chicago,
Who said, "If you don't let my paw go,
Your eyes I will scratch

And your hair I will snatch, And swiftly I'll make every claw go!"

Milwaukee thought she had a case wherein a young girl died of a broken heart, but it turned out that her corset strings were too tight, and one stroke of a jackknife revived her.

A boy was praising the skill with which a sister played the pianoforte. "Why," said he," she once imitated thunder so naturally that mother had to stop her." "What was that for?" asked a person standing near. "Because the imitation thunder turned all the milk sour."

A certain clergyman, more eminent in his day for the brilliancy of his imagination than for the force of his logic, was once preaching on the "Ministry of Angels," and in the peroration he suddenly observed, "I hear a whisper!" The change of tone startled one of the churchwardens, who sat below, from a drowsy mood; and springing to his feet, he cried, "It is the boys in the gallery!"

The champion forgiver lives in Terra Haute, Ind. He has taken his wife back after five elopements with as many different men. But he has confidently suggested to a friend that the thing is becoming slightly stale.

"If you love a girl stick to her, no matter how large her father's feet are." The size of the feet is no objection; the facility with which they are manipulated is the sole question to most lovers of the masculine persuasion.

At last 'tis over, doggie dear,
The folks are fled, and town's deserted;
The park is desolate and drear,

Where once we walked and-some girls -flirted.

Here, on the white cliff's grass-grown brink,
Neath which the blue sea frets and tosses,
We'll rest ourselves a while, and think
About the season's gain and losses.
Ah me! It seems but yesterday

The boughs with blossoms rich were laden, It was the merry month of May,

And I, a merry-hearted maiden. Now, like a wild bird safely caged,

A captor my lost heart is caging;What wonder I should be engaged To Guy, whose ways are so engaging? Aunt Mary says that love's a myth, And other heresies advances; She vows she has no patience with

A girl who throws away her chances. My cousin hopes that "Eva knows

[it,"

What's best, but must take leave to doubt And shakes her head-which only shows How little she can know about it!

It may not be in others' eyes

A wealthy match; but I've a notion
A wealth we never should despise
Is that of firm and deep devotion.
[See illustration on preceding page.]

And, as I say when cousin Nell

Laments that we can't keep a carriage, Sometimes when young girls "marry well,” It doesn't prove a well-made marriage. The man who filled my schoolday dream When I was small and rather silly, Might have supplied a splendid team To dash me down through Piccadilly. But of this truth right sure am I:

No mode of travel known at present Compares to rambling on with Guy Through fields of fancy, fresh and pleasant!

Which are most precious, pure and bright, (I know how I should make selection!) The gems that gleam with radiant light,

Or eyes that beam with fond affection? And Guy's so good, and true, and bold,

With such a splendid air about him; He should have been a knight of oldOnly I couldn't live without him! I'm sure 'tis wise to marry Guy,

For true love is a peerless blessing; The way some parents let men buy Their daughters, is, I think, distressing. I place that foremost mid the lot Of things that should at once be seen to: I'm sure it's wise-and if it's not, It doesn't matter, for I mean to!

The singular birds designated under the name of auks are purely ocean-birds, and rarely leave the water except to deposit their eggs in some chosen spot among the rocks and cliffs. They do not attempt to build nests, but are contented with the bare rock close to the water's edge. When pursued they scramble away awkwardly, yet rapidly, and they breed in immense flocks, in caverns and crannies, each one laying a single large egg. The young birds are fed from the crops of their parents, even after they have grown large and strong, and able to provide for themselves.

The first division of this species of birds is the great auk, now very rare, even in the Arctic regions, though formerly existing there in great numbers. We give an engraving of a fine specimen of these large birds on page 307. It is noticeable for the very imperfect development of its wings, which are capable of doing but little ser

vice in flying. They are placed very far back on the body, and are extremely small, being really hardly worthy the name of wings; but these helpless-looking appendages have great power, nevertheless, being used by the birds as oars, and so efficient are they in this capacity, with the help of the feet, that the auk has been known to escape from the vigorous pursuit of a six-oared barge propelled by sturdy oarsmen. It has found its home within the Arctic circle, and the neighboring waters, and has lived in large numbers in the ocean that washes the Faroe Islands, Iceland. The auks are entirely confined to the seas of the northern hemispherethe penguins taking their place in the southern. They all have a dense plumage, which usually exhibits on its surface a beautifully polished appearance and silvery lustre. In summer all the upper parts of the bird are of a deep sooty black,