JANET came down stairs in her blue calico dress, her freshly-combed hair tied back with a blue ribbon, and her little straw hat swinging on her arm, while her eyes sparkled and her rosy mouth was all wreathed with happy smiles.

"Papa, papa, are you most ready?" she exclaimed.

"Presently, my daughter."

Janet looked at the canary in his cage, and the white kitten sleeping in the sunshine at the open door, and the tall cinnamon roses nodding their heads at the south window, and wondered if they were half as happy as she was.

For little Janet was going to the village store with her father, to buy something all for herself. In the pocket of her stifflystarched blue calico dress was a rustling, new ten cent stamp that she had earned herself, by shelling peas and picking strawberries at a cent for every dozen pints. All the week Janet had worked busily, and that morning when her mother gave her the money, she said, with a smile of approbation:

"You have earned it, my daughter." "Papa, what would you advise me to buy?" asked Janet, as she trotted along by her father's side, holding to one of his fingers.

"I should advise you to suit yourself, my little girl," said her father. "You have

worked for the money, and you have the right to spend it just as you please."

"I am very fond of candy," said Janet, reflectively, "but candy is so soon eaten up, and then it is gone-and if I bought a china doll, I couldn't eat that up."

"No," said her father, smiling; "there would certainly be that advantage on the china doll side of the question."

"Or I might buy a picture-book. Tom says there are some beautiful books at Mr. Rigney's store."

"Or you might buy a new ribbon to tie your hair with," suggested her father.

Janet laughed and shook her curls, and said she had plenty of ribbons already.

As Janet Lenox entered the village store, another little girl slunk in also-a very different looking child.

Ann Bryan was ragged and dirty, with wild, uncombed hair, and black eyes that shone cunningly beneath their lashes. She was about Janet's age, but the two children scarcely seemed as if they belonged to the same class of humanity.

The storekeeper's face was very bright and cheerful as he welcomed Mr. Lenox and his daughter, but it altered to a suspicious frown as he turned to Ann.

"Well, what's wanting now?" he demanded, shortly and sharply.

Ann, with a sulky, defiant look, drew a black bottle from beneath her apron, and muttered that her father wanted three cents' worth of rum.

"Have you got the money?"

Ann pushed forward three rusty coppers. Little Janet had laid her new ten cent stamp on the counter, and was busy looking at the toys and picture-books that lay in the glass show-case.

Mr. Rigney went to draw the liquid poison, and when he returned he looked pleasantly at Janet.

"Well, little lady, have you made up your mind yet?"

"Yes sir," said Janet. "I should like to buy that little book with the picture of the bear on the cover. Will ten cents be enough?"

"I guess so," said the storekeeper, goodhumoredly, as he wrapped up the book in a piece of paper and tied it with pink twine. Meanwhile Janet looked for her money-it was gone.

"Why," she exclaimed, “what can have become of my ten cent stamp? I am sure I laid it on the counter."

They looked on the counter, and they looked under the counter, and on the floor, and behind the barrels, but nowhere was the missing money to be found.

Suddenly Mr. Rigney turned upon Ann, and said, sharply:

"You little thief, you've got it!"

"No, I have not," contradicted Ann, stoutly, though a guilty flush rose to her cheek, and in the same instant Janet saw, half hidden in the folds of the dirty handkerchief she wore round her neck, the end of her ten cent stamp.

"Confess at once, you little imp, or I'll have you sent to jail!" cried Mr. Rigney.

Ann burst into a loud howl, still denying her guilt.

"What! without your book?"

"Mr. Rigney says he will keep it for me until I have earned another ten cents."

So little Janet bore her disappointment as philosophically as she could.

It was that same evening, as she was running down through the woods to get some raspberries for tea, that she saw Ann Bryan sitting on a fallen log, all alone, with rather a mournful expression on her face, and the ten cent stamp on her lap. Ann started when she saw her, and would have taken to her heels, but Janet put both her plump arms round her neck and detained her.

"Ann, don't run away," she whispered, softly. "I am not angry with you."

Ann Bryan burst into tears. She was not used to kind words or gentle actions, and she had a heart, although it was crusted over by years of neglect and abuse.

"I'll give you the ten cent stamp, Ann," cried Janet, softly. "I can soon earn another one."

"No," sobbed Ann, putting the bit of rustling paper into Janet's hands. "I stole your ten cent stamp to buy candy with, but I didn't care for candy after I had got it. I'm sorry I stole it, Janet Lenox."

Janet had always heard everybody say what a bad, wicked girl Ann Bryan was; but she almost felt as if she loved Ann at that moment.

"Ann," she said, "if you will come to my house to-morrow, I will give you some candy my mother bought in New York for me when she was there last. And you must keep the ten cent stamp. I said I would give it to you."

Ann took the money with a bewildered look, and followed Janet with her eyes as the little girl vanished down the glen-path.

"I love you, Janet Lenox!" was all she said; but it came straight from her heart. All the picture-books that were ever

happy as those five words.

Years have passed. Janet is a woman now, and Ann Bryan is her faithful, loving servant, trusted with all that the house contains. But she dates her better life from the moment in which little Janet Lenox put her arms softly round her neck and whispered kind words in the solitude of the green and quiet glen.

SHORT CAKE.-Three pounds of flour, half a pound of butter, half a pound of lard, a teaspoonful of soda, two of cream of tartar; mix with cold milk. For Strawberry cake, open these when first baked, take out some of the crumb, and fill the inside with ripe strawberries, sugared; close and bake the cakes five minutes longer.

CORNSTARCH CAKE.-Half a pound of sugar, four ounces of butter, five eggs, one teaspoonful cream of tartar, half a teaspoonful of soda, half a pound of cornstarch, half a gill of sweet milk. :

SUGAR CAKE.-Three pints of flour, a tablespoonful of butter, half a pound of sugar, one egg, half a teaspoonful of soda, a teaspoonful of cream of tartar, milk enough to make a dough, roll it thin and cut it in squares.

RAILROAD CAKE.-A pint of flour, three eggs, a teaspoonful of cream of tartar, half a teaspoonful of soda, a table-spoonful of butter, a teaspoonful of sugar; bake the batter in a square pan twenty minutes.

LEMON CAKES-Rub half a pound of butter into one pound of flour and a pound of powdered lump sugar, the rind and juice of one lemon, three eggs, leaving out the whites unless the butter be very hard. Mix all together, and drop on tins in small cakes.

ICING FOR CAKES.-Beat the whites of four eggs to a solid froth, add gradually threequarters of a pound of refined sugar pounded and sifted; mix in the juice of half a lemon; beat it till very light and white. The cake should be cold. Place it before the fire, pour over it the icing, and smooth over the top and sides with a knife. It might be set to dry at the mouth of a cool oven.

NOURMAHAL CAKE.-Cut four slices of sponge cake about an inch thick and of an oval shape, but each slice smaller than the others. Spread a thick layer of apricot jam upon the first and largest slice, and then lay the next sized slice upon it; spread the second slice with apple marmalade, and cover with the third size, which is to be spread in like manner with strawberry jam, and covered with the smallest size. Press the top lightly with the hand, and with a sharp knife cut

away the central part, so as to leave a wall about two inches and a half thick, which is to be trimmed outside. Mash up the part removed from the centre, with equal parts of white wine and brandy, sufficient to flavor, and stir in some thick custard, then pour into the centre of the cake. Whip the whites of two eggs into a stiff froth, pour over the whole, heaping it well up in the centre, and shake sifted sugar thickly on, then place in a quick oven until the frosting is set. A few pieces of strawberry jam or any other preserve placed round the bottom of the dish gives a finish to the whole.

JELLY CAKE.-Bake sponge cake or cup cake in circular pans, half an inch thick; when cold, put pulp of fruit or marmalade between them; six or eight layers of each.

CINNAMON BISCUITS.-Half a pound of dry flour, one pound of lump sugar finely sifted; one pound of butter, powdered cinnamon to judgment. The whole to be mixed with a glass of brandy or rum, then rolled very thin, and baked in a quick oven.

DIET BREAD.-To half a pound of sifted sugar put four eggs; beat them together for an hour; then add a quarter of a pound of flour dried and sifted, with the juice of half a lemon and the grated rind of a whole one. Bake it in a slow oven.

LADY CAKE.-One pound of flour, one of loaf sugar, half one of butter, the whites of twelve eggs, almond's pounded, rose-water.

CHOCOLATE CAKE.-Grate chocolate; add whites of six eggs and loaf sugar; drop it on buttered paper, and bake as macaroons.

RAILROAD CAKE.-A pint of Hour, three eggs, a teaspoonful of cream of tartar, half a teaspoonful of soda, a table-spoonful of butter, a teaspoonful of sugar; bake the batter in a square pan twenty minutes.

A PLAIN RICE PUDDING.-To make a plain rice pudding, boil a pint of rice until it is quite soft. Mix two ounces of butter and four tablespoonfuls of sugar, a quart of rich milk with the rice, boil them up together and let them partially cool. Beat five eggs until they are quite light and stir them into the rice. It should bake about an hour.

REASON IN ANIMALS.-Who has not admired the wonderful precocity in chickens and partridges, and other little creatures whose wisdom on the very first day of existence appears equal to, if it does not surpass, many of the finest efforts of elaborate reason? The knowledge which they seem to possess of the world into which they have just been introduced, of the food which is agreeable to their palates and suitable for their digestive organs, their fear of danger, and their confidence of security in circumstances of which they can have no experience, the facility with which they use their legs and their beaks, walk and run, eat and drink-a facility which reason itself could not equal-are quite unintelligible to man, who gains all his knowledge by labor and éxperience, and is but little indebted to instinct for anything. Indeed, the difficulty which reason experiences in understanding the movements of instinct, would be quite sufficient for skeptical philosophers to deny its existence, were the evidences not as palpable and undeniable as the thing itself is incomprehensible.

There is a little spider, called the waterspider, which actually constructs a diving-bell, not only upon the most scientific principles, but in so mysterious and recondite a manner, that natural philosophers have not even yet discovered the secret of its patent. This divingbell is a little cylinder lined with silk, and fastened with threads on every side to the water-plants. It is open only below, so that the spider has to dive under the water before it can get into it. But when it is in, how can it live unless there be air? It solves this difficulty in a manner that puzzles the philosophers. It carries down, round its body, a bubble of air, and lets it escape at the mouth of the bell; the air ascends to the top of the bell, and displaces a quantity of water equal to its own bulk. The spider goes on diving with these air bubbles until it has filled the divingbell with air; and being now furnished with an atmosphere, and secure from all molestation from without; it rejoices in the seclusion of its own domestic retirement. But the question is, how does the little animal discover this ingenious and intricate process of house-building, so far beyond the inventive powers of man himself? No doubt it is furnished with an apparatus for carrying the air bubble, and power to force itself under the water with air bladders around it. But how it comprehends

the manner of using the apparatus, shaping the bell, fastening it, making its opening in the water, instead of in the air, and then filling it with an invisible gas, is a problem difficult of solution.

INDUSTRIOUS FLEAS.-There were industrious fleas before our time. Baron Walckenaer (who died in 1452) saw with his own eyes, for sixpence, in the Place de la Bourse, Paris, four learned fleas perform the manual exercise, standing upright on their hind legs, with a splinter of wood to serve for a pike. Two other fleas dragged a golden carriage, with a third flea holding a whip on the box for coachman. Another pair dragged a cannon. The flea horses were harnessed by a golden chain fastened to their hind legs, which was never taken off. They had lived in this way two years and a half, without any mortality among them, when Walckenaer saw them. They took their meals on their keeper's arm. Their feats were performed on a plate of polished glass. When they were sulky and refused to work, the man, instead, of whipping them, held a bit of lighted charcoal over their backs, which very soon brought them to their

senses.

But of what use is cleverness without a heart? The flea has strong maternal affections. She lays her eggs in the crannies of floors, in the bedding of animals, and on babies' night-clothes. When the helpless, transparent larvæ appears, the mother-flea feeds them, as the dove does its young, by discharging into their mouths the contents of her stomach. Grudge her not, therefore, one small drop of blood. For you, it is nothing but a flea-bite; for her, it is the life of her beloved offspring.

SOLOMON'S TEMPLE.-Lieutenant Warren, an officer of the Royal Engineers, has for a long time past been engaged in making extensive explorations of the size of the temple of Solomon, in Jerusalem, and has already made startling discoveries. He has, it is stated, established by actual demonstrations that the south wall of the sacred inclosure which contained the Temple, is buried for more than half its depth beneath an accumulation of rubbish, so that, if bared to its foundation,the wall would present an unbroken face of solid masonry, nearly 1000 feet long, and for a large portion of that distance more than 150 feet in height.

WHO SAW THE STEER?—The richest thing of the season came off the other day in the neighborhood of Boston. The greenest Jonathan imaginable decked out in a slouched hat, a long blue frock, and a pair of cowhide shoes, big as gondolas, with a huge whip under his arm, stalked into a billiard saloon, where half a dozen persons were improving the time in trundling round the ivories, and after recovering from his first surprise at the to him singular aspect of the room, inquired if “any of 'em had seen a stray steer," affirming that "the blasted critter got away as he come through the town t'other day, and he hadn't seen nothing on him since." The bloods denied all knowledge of the animal in question, and with much sly winking at each other, proceeded to condole with him on his loss in the most heart

felt manner. He watched the game with much interest, as he had evidently never seen or heard of anything of the kind before, and created much amusement by his demonstrations of applause when a good shot was made"Jerusalem!" being a favorite interjection. At last he requested the privilege of trying his skill, when he set the crowd in a roar by his awkward movements. However, he gradually got his hand in, and played as well as could be expected for a greenhorn. All hands now began to praise him, which so elated him that he actually began to think himself a second Phelan, and he offered to bet a dollar with his opponent, which of course he lost. The loss and the laugh so irritated him that he offered to play another game and bet two dollars, which he pulled out of a big roll-for it seems his cattle had sold well and he was quite flush. This bet he also lost, as the fool might have known he would, when, mad as a March hare, he pulled out a fifty spot, the largest bill he had, and offered to bet that on another game. The crowd mustered round and raised money enough to cover it, and at it they went again, when, by some strange turn of luck, the greeny won. He now offered to put up the hundred he had won against another hundred. Of course he could not blunder into another game, so they could now win back what they had lost, and fleece the fellow of his own roll, besides. They sent out for a famous player, who happened to have money enough to bet with; another game was played, which Jonathan won. Another hundred was also raised, and bet, and won; and it was not until he had blundered through half a dozen games, and,

by some unaccountable run of luck, won them all, draining the pockets of his opponents of about four hundred dollars, that they began to smell a large "mice." When everybody got tired of playing, gawky pulled his frock on over his head, took his whip under his arm and walked quietly out, turning round at the door and remarking, "Gentlemen, if you should happen to see anything of that steer, I wish you'd let me know." At last accounts they had not seen the steer, but they came to the conclusion they saw the elephant.

SOWING SEED.-A few years ago a missionary came to the United States, and being rather bald, some kind friends provided him with a wig. Upon his return to the island, the chief and others went to welcome him, and after the usual salutations, one of them said to the missionary:

"You were bald when you left, and now you. have a beautiful head of hair; what amazing people the Americans are! How did they make your hair grow again?"

"You simple people," replied the missionary, "how does everything grow? Is it not by sowing seed?"

They immediately shouted:

"O these American people, they sow seed upon a bald man's head to make the hair grow!"

One shrewd fellow inquired if he had brought any of the seed with him. The missionary carried the joke for a short time, and then raised his wig. The revelation of his "original head" of course drew forth a roar of laughter, which was greatly increased, when one of the natives shouted to some of his countrymen who were near:

"Here, see, Mr. has come from America with his head thatched!"

A MISUNDERSTANDING.-Chief Justice Parsons, a latitudinarian in theology, was once holding his court in a village where was settled as clergyman a very stringent and very logical Hopkinsian. The favorite article in the Hopkinsian creed was the "Sovereignty of God," or his right to make men for the express purpose of damning them eternally, provided he could so best promote his own glory. Sunday came, and the clergyman, aware that the great judge would be among his auditors, brought forth a discourse upon his favorite topic, which he had striven even beyond his wont to make