It was a pleasant afternoon in the early part of June, when a. lurgenum- ber of girls were assembled in the spacious, airy schoolâ€"room, chatting and laughing in regular school-girl fashion. All were simply, but neatly dressed in white, with blue ‘ribbons, for this was exhibition (lay; and a very pretty picture they made; at least so thought several young men, who occupied one corner of the apart- ment, waiting for the exercises to begin. A sort of stage or platform had been erected, where the young Indies were to read their essays, sing their songs, and. recite their valedictories ; after which came the distribution of prem- iums and awarding of the gold medal; and many were the Opinions as to who should be the recipient of this badge of honor. If Bessie Grey had any thoughts on the matter, she did not express them ; and no one standing there listening to her lively prettle, had any idea of the wild tumult within her bosom, of which her laughing face gave no evidence, except the alternate flush and pallor of diinpled cheeks as hope or fear struggled for the mastery. At last the bell sounded, once, twice, three times, and each girl took her appointed place behind the curtain, and when all was in readiness, the signal was given, the curtain raised, and the exercises began. One after another performed her part until Bessie Grey stood alone before the audience to deliver the closing address. In a low, clear voice she recalled the many happy hours spent at school, thanked the teachers for all their kindness, and tears shone in her sweet blue eyes as she spoke of the parting at hand. But the mo- mentary pang was quickly forgotten in the excitement which followed, as each went up to receive some reward of merit from her teachers hand. Every voice was hushed, and each young heart almost ceased to beat as the gold medal was held on high, and the principal read in slow distinct tones, “The medal of honor is award- ed to Miss Bessre Grey.†A loud shout of applause followed this announcement; then the good-bye were hurriedly spoken, and ere long the later thronged school-room was quite vacant. But what of Bessie Grey ‘2 Her pretty face was flushed with happiness as she walked toward home with her parents, and they were well pleased with the daughter who had acquitted herself so creditably, and many a fond smile they bestowed upon her. But her joy was not alone because they were pleased. Upper- most in her thoughts was a manly face upon which she had seen a. smile of approval, as she gracefully accepted the long-toiled-for-honor ; and it was for that smile she had toiled so long and faithfully. Bessie was an only child. Her father’s pride, and the darling of her mother’s heart ; but like many anoth- er, she had bestowed her affections on one whom papa thought unworthy of his daughter’s love. Therefore, unknown to either father or mother, she had promised to marry Guy Wel- ton as seen its she should become eighteen years of‘age. Time passed on until winter’s ï¬rst snows were falling, then Bessie’s trouble began. Mamma Grey was} anxious that her daughter should make a. grand match, so invitations to balls and receptions, where wealth and beauty assembled, were not to be slighted ; and the winter moved on a.- midst around of gayeties of which ~Bessierwas fast becoming weary. One evening, while she and her mother were waiting for the return of her father, a. messenger brought invita- tions to a grand reception, to be given by Mrs. Brown, on the following Thursday. Of course Bessie must go, for Mrs. Brown was a particular friend of Mrs. Grey’s, and beside, the handsome and wealthy Harry Carlton would be present. Bessie would much rather have stayed at home, could she have found a reasonable excuse for so doing. In fact she dreaded a meeting Guy was a. rising young lawyer, possessed a good, moral character, and meant to make his mark in the world. His principal source of un- worthiness was a lack of greenbaoks, but both he and Bessie fondly hoped that Within the year that must pass ere their fates could be united, he would be able to lay by sufï¬cient to make a. comfortable start in life. ALL‘S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. VOL. XIX. NO. 24. And my heart. with joy o‘crflowiug, Throbs and swells with ecstncy, And the eurth,with beauty glowing, Fills one’s soul with melody. Gently falls the Autumn leaves, Lovely with their brilliant splendor, While the soft wind sighs and grieves Silently I sit and ponder, 0f the beauties of October With her glorious “Indian Summer,†With its misty skies of azure, And its treasures none can numberâ€" Gold-crownod, crimsonmobed October ! 0 the beauties of October! Nature rcveling in grandeur, Fills the lap of earth with treasuresâ€" Luscious fruits and brown nuts sombre 1" Where’s thy rival Indian Summer What can rival grand October? OCTOBER with the fascinating Mr. Carlton, for he had been likea shadow in her path~ way during the last three months, and she well knew that he only waited an opportunity to lay his fortune at her feet. Then What would papa. say when he heard that she had rejected the most eligible match in the city ? But rejected he should be, for she must and would marry Guy Welton, let the consequences he_what_they might. Thursday night arrived, and 'Mrs. Brown’s parlors were ï¬lled to over- flow with the elite of the city. Bessie looked her prettiest, and endeavored to enjoy herself. But there was a ache in her heart, in spite of her as- sumed gayety, and she would much rather have been sitting quietly at home. At last, weary of the excite- ment, she sought the _conservatory. “I will admire the flowers and think of Guy," she mused, “and let that odious Harry Carlton bestow his smiles on some one sensible of his charms.†She walked from one plantto an- other, and had stopped to admire a rose, when she heard footsteps behind her. Imagine her displeasure, when, on turning round, she beheld the odious Carlton himself, not ten steps frem her, bowing and smiling in his most fascinating manner. “Miss Grey, I have long waited for an opportunity to speak to you alone, but it seems as if fortune had not been inclined to favor me. Excuse my presumption, if such you deem it, but I love you more than words of mine can tell. May I hope, Miss Grey â€"â€"Bessie, msyI hope ‘2†“Wean'ing his Sunday grin, as usual,†muttered she; but quickly hiding her displeasure, she commenc- edzi lively badinege, determined, if possible, to give him no chance to make his declaration. But he was not to be thwarted, for, seating himâ€" self on a bench near which they were standing, and gently drawing her down beside him, he began :â€" A painful Blush éverspread her face as she slowly arose from her seat, but in atkindly manngx: she answered :â€" “I am sorry, Mr. Carlton, that matters have come to such a. crisis, but I can give you no hope. My uï¬â€˜ections have long been given to another, and even were they not, I I am sure Icould not love you ; for- give me if I cause you pain, but I do not think I have given you any en- couragemgnt.†“No, Miss Grey, you have not en- couraged me ;but knowing that your parents regard me with favor, I have dared to hope. But your friends are seeking you ; good night,†and with- out waiting for any further reply, he was gone. Bessie was glad when the hour of departure arrived. She was tired and weary, and her head had scarcely touched the pillow when she fell asleep. Next morning at breakfast, Mrs Grey said :â€" “Bessie, daughter, Why did Harry Carlton leave so suddenly last night ? A short time before he went, I was told that he was with you in the con- servatory. I hope you did nothing to offend him.†“I told him thatI could not love him,†Bessie replied. “What! you rejected Harry Car] ton? Bessie, I am astonished! The best match in the city ! Why did you re- fuse to be his Wife ‘2" “He did not ask me to be his wife. He merely wanted to know if he might hope, and I told him I could give him no hope.†' “Well, lgzwe- you credit for more sense than you seem to possess,†said Ml:s__. G‘gey. She deemed it prudent to let the subject drop here, however, for if Bessie had not refused point blank to become Mrs. Carlton, there might Stll be a little room for hope. Four months passed rapidly away, and Bessie had one more week to wait before she would be eighteen years old. She was sitting in her room, thinking of the grand party Which her mother said must be given on that day, when a servant entered and laid a note on the table. How her heart beat as she picked it up. It was from Guy and ran as follows : “My Darling Bessie :â€"I have com- pleted all arrangements, and am ready to claim my bride. Answer this, and let me know when and where I shall meet you. Yours until death, Guy. †After a. moment's hesitation she wrote the following reply :â€" “My Precious Guy :â€"Wo are to have a. grand party on my birthday, which occurs one week from toâ€"night. I will meet you the following even- ing, at seven o’clock, under the big elm, near the carriage gate. Forever your own, Bessie.†It was a. busy week which followed, and amidst the bustle and confusion, Bessiefound little time to contemplate the step she was about to take. But. at last the eventful evening arrived: and was hailed with joy by all except Bessie. She seemed. sad and melan- choly, though she strove to appear cheerful and happy. She had some twinges of conscience, and she could not banish the thought that perhaps, after to-night, she might never again enter the home which had sheltered her in childhood. Still she had no lthought of retracting her promise to AND YORK COUNTY INTELLIGENCER. HE HERALD. RICHMOND HILL, ONTARIO, CANADA, NOVEMBER 8, 1877. The next evening Mr. and Mrs. Grey went to take tea. with a. friend. Bessie declined going, and her parents sup- posed she was tired out with the preâ€" vious night’s excitement, they did not urge her to accompany them. As soon as the door closed after them, Bessie repaired to herroom to prepare for her departure. She dressed her- self very beeomingly in a grey poplin suit, and wrapping a. light shawl around her shoulders, she passed down the stairs and out of the door, not knowing when she should return. She had scarcely reached the elm tree when a. pair of strong arms were thrown around her, and a well-known qoiee_whispered 2â€"- â€" “My owâ€"n darling Bessie. At last yogrwill be mine forever.“ Guy. The party was a grand success, and Mrs. Grey was happy, for Harry Carlton was present, and she could perceive no change in his manner to- ward Bessie. So she still cherished the hope of seeing him Bessie’s hus- band. But within the next forty-eight hours she learned how vain was her 110126- . Then gently releasing her, he drew her hand through his arm, and led her to the carriage which was wait- ing a. short distance away. Entering this, they were driven to the home of a magistrate where they were soon pronounced man and wife. They then took the train ._for New York, visiting Newportand Saratoga, returning to settle down in the home which Guy had prepared. There was great confusion in the Grey household when it was discover- ed that Bessie was missing, and the anger and mortiï¬cation of Mr. and Mrs. Grey knew no bounds when they learned, from a note found on the table, that she had become the Wife of Guy Welton. In fact, Papa Grey declared that he would never recog- nize 1101311111011 less allow her to enter his house. So a month sped away, and it was rumored that in a few days Mr. and Mrs. Welton would return. Accord- ingly three days after, when the one P. M. train came puffing into the depot, it brought among other passe engers the newly married pair. A handsome carriageï¬rawn by a. spirit- ed pair of coal black horses, was wait- ing to carry them home. Bessie did not expect to see such a. splendid con- veyance, but a much greater surprise was in store for her. The carriage stopped in front of a handsome resi- dence ; Guy assisted her to slight, and led her up the broad stone steps, where the door was thrown open, and an elderly matron, whom she rec- ognizcd as Guy’s mother, welcomed her home. Never was a bride more happily surprised, for a luxurious home it proved to be. The house was furnished with every comfort which wealth could procure, and when Guy explained her happiness knew no bounds. Two months previous, a. bachelor brother of Mrs. Welton senior had died, leaving Guy sole heir to a mill- ion of dollars. Wishing to surprise Bessie, he had said about his good fortune, buf having purchased the house, he left hismother tomanage the ï¬tting up, while he and hisfair young bride were OK on a wedding tour. When Bessie heard all, she propos- ed writing to her parents, which was immediately done. They wrote of their good fortune, asked pardon for running away, and ended by inviting Mr. and Mrs. Grey to be present at the dinner which would be served at ï¬ve o’clock. The note was desputeh- ed by a servant, with instructions to wait for an answer. When he re- turned, he brought word that they would come at half past four, and at the appointed time Mr. and Mrs. Grey were ushered into the parlor. iBessie was embraced and forgiven, Guy was cordially welcomed as a son, and all went merry as a marriage- bell. Bessie‘s after life was one of un- clouded bliss; and she has never had cause to regret that she followed the promptings of her true heart. A cannon ball is worshiped as a god in Banavar. Until two years ago the people worshipped the cannon 1tself; but, the Eng- lish Government, taking possession of the weapon, the ball was extracted and placed in a shrine. The Council-General of Gaudeloupe has offered areward of $20,000 for a new pro- cess to extract the juice of the sugar-cane, at cost not to exceed forty per cent. of the mar- ket value of the product. Here is a. chance for American inventors. Tobacco has been furnished to the Pen- itentiary convicts on Blackwell’s Island for the past twenty-three yearsâ€"so the warden says. Therefore it was not so very strange, when the supply was suddenly stopped as a. measure of retrenchment by the Commission- ers of Charities and Correction, that great There is a white man in this city, a. sober, sensible gentleman, too, new in his forty- second year, who has a good education. He never wrote a. letter in his life, never owned a postage stamp and never received but one letter. He states that the letter received was never read by him, but was deposited in his pocket and packed around until worn out, and he does not know till this day the name of the author.â€"I.’cndcrsmL (K315) Re- porter. The number of pieces required to ï¬nish a. camel’s hair shawl is from ï¬ve hundred to four thousand. Often twenty men have worked daily for twenty years in order to ï¬nish a. ï¬rst-class camel’s hair shawl, the highest wages being four cents a day to the most skillful Worker. Evening gloves Show deeper tones cazh season; those with ten or twelve buttons are in pink, coral, cream White, pearl and rose tints. Young ladies are wearing kilt skirts to woollen costumm. They hang in straight plaits from the belt down, and their on†ornament is a scarf sash tied far below the hips. Dresses trimmed with jet or with clair de lune heads have wide side pleating with a row of the beaded trimming laid down each plait, and a. broad beaded passementerio for the heading. Very long mantles are the most elegant among the winter wrappings. They. how, ever, cannot be worn on foot, but imply a carriage, and, consequently wealth. New apron fronts for dressy black silks are of diagonal bands of embroidered Grape alternating with tulle bands that are also em- broidered ; the bottom is trimmed with w1de thread lace. Trimming straight down the front skirts are seen on many new dresses. In some of these there is a. seam down the middle, with square cornered revere turned towards each side. For owning dresses a broad vine of flowers extends down the middle of the front breadth. Circular wraps are fashionably made in plaids and checks, but the new “mg-carpet" cloth, which is introduced for these gar» ments, will become popular as cold weather advances. Some of these are lined with silk and others with dark opera flannel. The trimming in a fringe of wool, or silk and wool, matching the cloth. The round skirts, or nearly round (and in this latter case raised in the back by means of three tabs), are becoming general in Paris. It is so convenient to wear a skirt without a train {or walking dresses that the appearance of the train, for the street at least, cannot be doubted. In the drawing-room it is another mstter ; the evening dress will remain long ; but, on this subject, there are conflicting ru mOI'S. For street wear the leading color is a dark shade of green, which shows atiuge of yellow when held up to the light. It is sometimes called “moss†green, and in the new tufted and knotted fabrics is combined with lines and dots of raw silk; shot in dashes of yel» AOW, cardinal red, blue. white; or lighter green. Seal brown and navy blue hold then own, however. The stylish Directorie costume has the vest front and lapels now so much in vogue, whlle avoiding the more masculine effect given to many such garments. This cos tume will look Well made entirely of one color. the vest and skirt of silk, and the overdress of cashmere; but it is the fashion of the season to have the vest in contrast to all the rest of the dress. ' The Harris patent provost side-cut kid gloves is the style for full dross. This cut is new and diï¬erent from others, the buttons being scarcely paroeptibie when the arm is raised, while the peculiar and perfect ï¬t adds to the natural beauty and symmetry of the arm. They come In from 4 to 15 buttons in white, and in all the delicate light shades [or parties, receptions, balls, etc. Narrow, square or round box toes, with French heels, constitute the full-dress boot, unless the material employed be silk or Be.- tin, in which case the box is not put on. Corksoledlbuttoned boots of the Tampieo pebbled goat-skin and calf-kid, toxed wim straight-grained gcut~skin, are in much fev or. In place of the ouMime slipper for even ing wear for a, speciality known as the “foul sandal boots.†Among the travelling toilettes of the pre- sent a, very practical style should be noted : short skirt of light cloth (short should be understood as signifying without a. train), a long wines of chamom leather Without sleeves, a. shawl in colors to match those of the toilette, and arranged in drepï¬ies on the skirt, being held in place merely by buttons, so that the drapery may easily be removed, entirely or in part, when the upper part 0! the shawl is wrapped about the neck, while the lower part remains draped and buttoned on the skirt. Embroidered gloves are offered, but the reï¬ned choice is for plain untrimmed gloves without ornamental stitching, and with the long wrists that make the hands look slen- der. Those fastened by three or four but, tons are most used for the street. The greys are clair dc lune shades, showing blue and steel-like hues. Old gold-colored gloves are the dressy choice for wearing with black and dark dresses. Medium dark colorsâ€"â€"â€", slate, brownâ€"end the dark olive and myrtle greens are for general wear and to match woollen dresses. Undressed kid gloves are more fashionable than at any previous season, and come in darker shades of robin’sâ€"egg blue, Clair de lune grey, seal brown, and mordore, or golden brown. The length of polonaises, which have real- ly become nhort princesse dresses, has brought back the economical fashion of false skirts made of simple peroale or also of old silk, trimmed on the bottom with beautiful velvet or new silk. In fact, nothing is seen but the very bottom of the skirt, the polon» aise being slightly draped end still less loop- ed. The fashion of broad collars accom- panied be very deep cuffs has caused the trimming of sleeves to mount toward the elbow, as the plain high culls really do not admit or any trimming beneath, and, be- sides, the sleeves of drosoes worn with these collars and cufls are buttoned at the wrist, and are almost tight-ï¬tting. Velvet ribbon strings are seen on many bonnets; few bonnets are without strings of some kind, either plush, satin, or velvet. Virot trims pale blue velvet bonnets with dark brown hummingâ€"birds 1esting on a. go]- den branch. Mossy green velvet wreaths are also used on pale blue bonnets, and the face trimming is then of the mess green, either velvet or plush. Maroon velvet bon- nets are trimmed with clusters of white rosâ€" : es ; sky blue is also associated with maroon red. Prune-colored hats have old-gold-col- ored timings of satin. Coronet helmets are suddenly restored to favor. The coronet is very high in the middle, very plain, and close on the sides. Some of these are shaped so that they can be reversed, forming, when turned around, a. jockey cap or a round hat with square fronts and rolled sides of the English walking hut. Eccentric as is the fashion new in prepara- tion, I must nevertheless mention it, having the conviction at the same time that it will not be adopted by many. I refer to the winter bonnets made of soft leather, such as undressed kid and ehamois-skin,in all shades of ecru, light and pinkish chocolate, grey, ‘beige, and, above all, seal known. These bonnets are trimmed, like the others, with flowers and feathers. The ribbons employed for such bonnet: are almost always of satin These ribbons are used for every purpose, LADIES’ COLUMN. FASHION NOTES. (Boucicaultcd from The N. 1'. World by “Puck.â€) . The process of court-ship is, to all human beings, save those engaged therein, much more interesting in the novels than in real lige. Some one has declared that it is “fun to watch other people philander,†though one would feel like a fool doing it one’s self ; but with all due deference to the said some one, we believe that the contrary is the caseâ€" thet it may be fun for other people to philan- der, but one feels like a. fool watching them. l‘he barter of chewing-gum and jujube-paste, the joint occupation of an arm-chair or a front-gate, the embellishing of conversation with sighs, “darlings,†“owns,†“pets,†“loves,†“sweetest,†and such pepper-ginger- breadwthese are doubtless to the sufferers not barely tolerable, but altogether admirable. But no one else. Solomon himself, an ex- pert in aï¬aircs the mar, and, in the matter of apparel, dressy beyond the wildest night- mare of any rural lover of the present day, found out at last that much courtship was a wenriness of the flesh, and declared that there were two things which disgusted him, yea three which he abhorredâ€"the way of an arrow in the air when he was in its line of flight, the way of a. ship in the sea with a still wind ahead, and the way of a, man with a. maid. His experience and opinion are those of all observers since. Mr. J evons, in one of his most acute andpains taking essays points out that the process of courtship in- volves a positive and heavy loss to society. being employed for ooiï¬ures composed of loops of all colors imaginableâ€"red, dark blue, light blue, prune, straw, rose, etc., all combined; the same combinations is used for cravat bows, ï¬chus, and plastrons of all kinds, and this trimmlng is also announced for ball dresses made of white goodsâ€"Paris Correspondence. “While the birds,†says our author, “while mating, occupy themselves in the construc- tion of their future habitations and the ac- cumulation of household furniture, as moss, twigs, wool, horsehair, olo., the human rover invariably withdraws himself or her- self from the ranks of the producers during the period of courtship. Setting aside the increased consumption of articles 01 luxury. chocolateAcaramels, cream soda, opera. tick« ets, hour’s-grease and cologne, and the senti~ mental question of the discomfort caused to other members of the family by exclusion from parlors, sitting rooms, and other apart- ments of common resort, each pair of lovers form a serious drain ééipon the resources 01 the community. It is true that there is a small saving in gas or kerosene incident upon the turning down of lamps, but against this is to be set the destruction of chair- springs by the superimposition of excessive weight, the wear and tear of gate-hinges, the expenditure for fancy stationery, and a. hun- dred other items that will readily occur to such of my readers as have been there them- selves. Finally there is the item of the waste of time. The American Bureau of Statistics, 111 its last annual report, says, startlingly but truthfully, that if the number of hours an. mmlly wasted in that great republic in court- ing were spent in labor, as ,the sawing 01 clapboards or doing of plain laundry work, the proceeds, placed in a sinking fund at 3 12 per cent., interest calculated semi- tnnuazly, would pay off the national debt in 3 2168546 years i†To this forcible presentation of the case we need hardly add a. word, further than to remark that the Indians of the West have devised a plan whereby to avoid the losses and. inconveniences consequent on unscien- tiï¬c and. unsystemetized courtship. Accord- 1151le they provide that the fortnight follow- ing the ï¬rst newmoou of M Ly 1n each re- vowing year shall consist of fourteen con- .secutive feasts of St. Valentine. All labor is suspendeel, and the unmatod members of the tribe take to the sunny hills, young men and maidens, wislowers and widows, super- ennueted braves and superfluous squmvs, “Their pleasure in the Wasatch woofls, Fourteen spring: days to take.†During that period no work is demanded of the unmarried or those about to marry. L‘hey sit on the same log unabashen, and papoases stint the whoop of mooking' dis. covery when their marriagenble sisters ex- change Sylvan sweemeets with their lov- ersâ€" “Aud dried locusts rush together at the bombing of their lipsâ€. The fortnight over, his in the camp re- sumes its wonted course, and for the next. ï¬fty weeks the Indian who intermits his daily duties to cast sheep’s eyes, chips or other tributes of savage affection at his inamerata dies the death of a, Spitz-dog. The introduction of this system seems to us most desirable. Every dog has its day ; why not every lover ? A close season of two or three weeks would enable amorous :folk to make as much love as they could were the time distributed in driblets of two or three hours a night throughout the whole almanzw' The loving lunacy would of course be com- plete and intense while it lasted, but the effect might be such a cure as is wrought on sweet-toothed apprentices whom confection- ers permit to eat their ï¬ll during their ï¬rst month’s service. The full soul would loathe the chewing gum, sixteen-line sonnets would lose their charms, an equitable ratio of seats would be restored, and for the re- maindcd of the year the pillars of} domestic peace would remain unshaken by those tor- nadoes and cataclysms of affection which make life in a shady suburban street intoler- able, and add. new terror to Niagara. Falls during the season. ing. __u I, Make a marriage a matter of 5moral judg- ment. Marry into a famny you have long known. Never make a. remarK at the expense of the other. ‘ Never talk of one another, either alone or in company. “1‘71 forgot,†is never an acceptable excuse If you must criticise, lot; it be done 10v 1331}: n 1,, Give your warmest sympathies other’s trials. If the one is angry, let the ohhsr part the lips only for a kiss. ' Neglect the whole world beside, rather than one another. Never speak loud to one another unless the house is on ï¬re. Let each strive to yield oftenest to the wishes of the other. Always leave home with loving Words, for they may be the last. Murry iuto dilTerent blood and tempera ment from your own. Marry in your 0an religion. Never both be angry at once. Never taunt with a past mistake. Let a kiss be the prelude of a. rebuke. Let selflabnegation be the habit of both. A good. wife is the greatest earthly bless SYSTE MATIZED COURTSHIP. MATElMONIAL ADVICE for each They who marry for physical characteris- tlcs 01' external consideration will fail of happiness. The beautiful in heart. is a. million times of more avail, as securing domestic happi- ness ; than the beautiful in person. If he had conï¬ned himself to his legiti- mate quill-driving duties, there would have been no occasion for him to have been strut- ting around with his loft hand in a, sling, a patch on his nose, and an absurd old gum on one foot. He was. however, only anoth- er victim of that egotistical opinion of all men, that they can do anything better than a woman. He went home the other day and found his wife putting up peaches in those old-fashioned tin cans that closed with seal- ing-wax. She had an apron on, and two or three little blotches of sealing-wax ornamentâ€" ed the floor, while the out under the table was licking a piece the size of a. postage stamp with assiduity. Never reflect on a past action which was done with a good motive and with the best judgment at the time. “See here, Maria,†he said, “you’ll cripple yourself with that hot wax directly ;" but as she made no answer, he continued oracularly: “Women never have any mechanical genius, anyway. If there is a, way of doing any- thing Wrong they are sure to try it.†So he sat down. She handed him a. fresh can, just out of the hot water. He took it in his hand and dropped it as though it had been a. streak of lightning; while he struck his ï¬ngers in his mouth and looked sudden death at her because he couldn‘t swear. She gave him it towel to hold the next one with, and he took it on his knee, lighting the seal- ing wax stick. and commenced prodding around the top, but the bottom burnt his knee, and he jerked, bringing the burning wax across the back of his left hand. Then he jumped up and howled, dropped the can, which emptied a. spoonful of burning pre- serves into his slipper. This made him frantic, and he went dancing about the kitch- en like an inebriated dervish, waving the burning wax until a drop took him on the nose. In his anger he kicked the oï¬ending can through the window, scattering its con- tents over the dog, who rushed into the street howling and raising an alarm of mad dog, which occupied the attention of all the people within three squares. Then he sub- mitted to be laid on the sofa, and plastered with flour and sweet oil, until he looked like a, badâ€"prepared scarecrowt He is willing to make an afï¬davit the size of a. barn door that he willth the women be just as awkward as they choose. Elmira Gumilc. They who marry for traits of mind and heart will seldom fall of perennial springs of domestic enjoyment “Do you think you can do any better?†she obsowcd. w1th some acidity. “Why. of course I can.†“Well, here, just distinguish: yourself, then.†0 A hesitating or gr‘um yielding to the Wishes of the other always grates upon a loving heart. Never ï¬nd fault unless it is perfectxy cerâ€" tain a, fault has been committed. Do not herald the sacriï¬ces you make to each other’s tastes. habits, or preferences. Consult one another in all that comes within the experience, observation, or sphere of the other. Almost every one has on hand. a store of of trite apposite sentences, using them daily, but having no knowledge of their author- ship ; end as men are apt to be curious con- cerning thehabits and laws they the follow or are governed by, tracing their origin back into the dimncss of longâ€"slumbering centur- ies, so they are often possessed with a. desire to know who ï¬rst framed these words into the sentences so familiar to them. As they have not all the time to devote to such a labor, the following have been strung to- gether by one whose nature leads him to rumble among books for his soul’s best amusement. The very felicity is in the mutual cultiva- tion of usefulness. Never deceive for the heart, once, misled can never trust wholly again. Let all your mutual accomodations be spontaneous, whole-souled and free as air. It was Thomas a, Kempis, who in the ï¬fteenth century, gave us “Man proposes, but God disposesâ€; and tho equally well’ known saying, “Of two evils the less is to be chosen,“ the original of “Of two evils chose the least." Thomas Tusser, a. writer of the sixteenth century, gave, “Better late than never,†and the key for {our other common phrases in "For Christmas comes but once a year,†“It’s an ill wind that turns none to good,†“’l‘hc stone that is rolling can gather no moss,†“Look ore thou leap, see ere thou go.â€1t\vas Francis Babelais, a French wit of the some century, who said that by “Rob- bing Peter he paid Paul,†and told that when It is the mother who moulds the character and ï¬xes the destiny of the child. “The devil was sick, the dovil a monk would be ; "The devil was well, the devil a; monk was he.†Itwus also in the sixteenth century that Sir Edward Coke, a celebrated English law- yer, said “For a man’s house is his castle,†and Lord Brooke sung, “And out of mind as soou’out of sight.†It was Christopher Mar- lowo, the forerunner of Shakspheare, and father of the grand old English drama, who sang to the ladies, “Love me little, love me long," and told of “Inï¬nite riches in a. little room.†We owe to tho proliï¬c genius of Shaks- poai‘e, “This is the short and long of it," “The world’s mine oyster,†“Comparisons are odious,†“As merry its the day is long,“ “A Daniel come to judgment,†“It is a. Wise father that knows his own child,†“And thereby haugszt tale,†“He needs must go that the devil drives,†“Why, this is very midsummer madness," “The smallest worm will turn when trodden on," “Smooth runs the'water where the brook is deep,†“So wise so young they say do ne’er live long,†l“'l‘ho weakest goes to the wall,†“We have ‘soeu better days,†“This was the most unkindest cut of all," “stand not upon the order of your going,†“A deed without a- name,†“Frailty, thy name is woman,†“I am a man more sinned against than sinning,†“They laugh that win,†and nthousand more as good, though not as well known. ORIGIN OF SOME POPULAR SAYINGS. Francis Bacon, the “wisest, greatest, meanest of mankind,†said "Knowledge is power,†and Beaumont and Fletcher pro- nounced that “What’s one man’s poison, Signor, is another’s meat or drink.†Milton tells of a.“Moping melancholy and moon- struck madness,†and also of “A wilderness of :waets,†“All hell broke loose,†and “The paradise of fools.†‘ Samuel Butler, author of “Hudibms,†dubbed a. religious creed thus 2 Twas Pres- byterian true blue.†Dryden says, “None but A THOUGIITFUL HUSBAND WHOLE NO. 1007. In a paper supplied to the London Globe, by an occasional correspondent, we read :â€" “Between Americans and Canadians there is a great gulf ï¬xed. It is impossible for an Englishman to cross the frontier into Cana- da without noticing at once that he has come among a different people. He has left he- hind him America and the Americans, and is once more among his own kith and kin. The manner, look, dress, and dialect of the people he meets are familiar to him ; among flags the Union J aek predominates ; the coins bear the efï¬gy of the Queen ; and if he enters the country by way of Toronto, he will be gratiï¬ed by the sightâ€"dear to Eng- lishmenâ€"of a veritable policeman waiting on the pier to receive him, the exact counter- partâ€"except for a red stripe down his tron. setsâ€"of him from whom he would expect to receive greeting on arrival at Charing cross. Although out of the track of tourists, and, indeed, on that very account, Toronto well deserves a visit. There is a business-like look about the town which contrasts favora- ble with the meretricious trappings of the haunts of idleness. Its natural advantages, too, are great. With Lake Ontario dimpling in the summer sun in front, and a well-wood- ed undulated hill country in the rear, it does not need the well-planned thoroughfares and splendid ediï¬ces with which it abounds to establish its claim to rank as one of the ï¬n- est and most picturesque cities in the Do- minion. The university, situated in the centre of a noble park, is a masterpiece of architectural beauty, and for taste in design will bear comparison with the choicest of ‘ancestral homes’ in England. Being a ‘god. less’ university it has no chapel, but its li- brary and museum of natural history prom- ise, when complete, to be one of the best in Canada. Wykehamists will be interested to learn that the library is adorned with a stat- of William of Wykeham, placed there not by reason of any special tie of aflinity, but out respect solely to the memory of one of the greatest benefactors of learning which Eng- land has produced.†Matthew Prior thought “The end must justify the meansâ€; and Dean Swift said “Bread is the staff of life.†George Farquhar called “Necessity the mother of invention’: ; Edward Young, a very sombre fellow, said “Death loves a shining mark†; he also thought that “Man wants but little, nor that little long,†and that “A fool at forty is a fool indeed†; he also told of “Tired nature’s sweet restorer, balmy sleep†; Pope Bays» “To err is human, to forgive divine!†and Thompson tells of. “Cruel as death, and hungry os the grave.†It was John Gay who said “While there’s life there’s hope,†and sang of “Over the hills and far away†; Law- rence Sterne thought that “God tempers the wind to the sham lamb,†and Benjamin Franklin that “God helps them who help themselvesâ€; Cowper said that “Variety’s the very spice of liloâ€; Thomas Campbell that “Tis distance lends enchantinent to the view†; he also said, “And coming events cast their shadow before“ ; Daniel Webster told of a “Sea of upturned faces," and Wash- ington Irving thought, our idol was “The mighty dollarâ€; Byron says that war presents “Battle’s magniï¬cently stern array"; and Keats that “A thing of beauty is a joy for- ever†; and last, it was Bishop Berkeley, an English prelate, who in the seventeenth cen- tury said, “Westward the course of Empire takes its way." Few people are aware of the wonderful pre- gress that Art has made in America during the last quarter of a century. It is but a, few decades since, that those who desired to beautify and adorn their homes, were obliged to depend almost entirely on European er- tists. But such a state ofeffairs in this age of progress and improvement, could not last long with the greth American people. Genius from the East to the West, from the North to the Gulf of Mexico on the South, answered the demand for beauty, taste and reï¬nement, and. today our leading artists are not sur- passed by the leading modern masters of Art in Europe. the brave deserve the fair,†and “sweet is pleasure after pain.†He also warns thus ; “Beware the fury of a patient man,†“All delays are dangerous in war,†and thinks that “Men are but children of alarger growt ." The Earl of Boscommon has it that one must “Choose an author as you choose a friend," and says that “The multitude are always in the wrong.†John Bunyan wisely reminds us that “He that is down needs fear no fall,†and Thomas Southern “That pity’s akin to love." It was crazy Nathaniel Lee who averred that “When Greeks join Gaexks, thcn wa_s_the tug of war.†Great Art. publishing establishments have sprung up, and by various processes the ï¬nest and most expensive paintings are repro- duced in all their elegance and beauty, and a, price within the means of the masses, so that no one need be without the reï¬ning in- fluence of beautiful pictures at home. Among the progressive leading Art 1’le- lishing ï¬rms of the world, we take pleasure in mentioning George Stinson & 00., of Portland Maine ; they were among the ï¬rst In the business, end we can only understand the ooloseal proportions their trade has as. sumod by remembering in the Dominion of Canada and the United States live ï¬fty million people. We cannot better illustrate the magnitude of their business than to state the amount of money paid by them for postage stamps during the year 1876 ; we have the ï¬gures direct from the ï¬rm, or we should think there was some mistake. They paid for postage stamps during the year 1876, thirty-three thousand one hundred and four dollars and ninety-two cents ($33,104,92) and, in connection with this it should be re- membered that only the small orders were sent by mail, the larger going by express and freight. George Stinflon & 00’s., agents are to be found in every State in the Union and all over the Dominion of Canada, in every county with scareer an exception. Long since, this enterprising ï¬rm recog. nized the value of printer’s ink judiciously used in advertising, and they inform us that without it they could never have extended their business as it is today, in three times the number of years. A short time since they paid in a, single day twenty-four thous- and dollars ($24,000,00) on a. contract for newspaper advertising. They evidently long 1since found the road to success and have neither turned to the right nor left. Three things are necessary for eminent success in business. First, standard honest goods that the people generally need and desire,~â€"1et them be the best, whatever the line of busi. ness. Second, let your prices be reasonable ~33 low as possible. Third, let the people know what you have, and what you can do, by liberal and persistent advertising, and you will ï¬nd low prices, made known and proved, will bring trade that will give a larger income Ithun can be made in any other way. An editor published along letter on hogs. A rival paper in the same village upbmids him for obtruding his family matters upon the public. D O ‘y‘ WN ART PUBLISHING. THE ST. LAWRENCE.