by looking at 'em,' I said. And what cam o't'the year thirty-nine and forty-three!" said Why, my dear souls, the parson set up a barrel- Dewy, with much disappointment, organ on his own account within two years o' the "Perhaps she's jist come from some noble rats, time I spoke, and the old choir went to nothing" and sneers at our doings, the tranter whispere L “As far as look is concerned,” said the tranter,!" Od rabbit her!" said Mr. Penny, with al “I don't for my part see that a fiddle is much'annihilating look at a corner of the wins nearer heaven thin a clar net. Tis farther off chimney, “I don't quite stomach her, if this is it. There's always a rakish, scampish countenance Your plan music well done is as worthy as your about a fiddle that seems to say the Wicked One other sort done bad, a' blieve souls; so say I' had a hand in making o'en; while angels be supposed to play clarinets in heaven, or som at like 'em, if ye may believe picters,” "Robert Penny, you were in the right," broke in the eldest Dewy. They should ha stuck to strings. Your brass min, is brass-well and good; your reed-man, is reed-well and good; your percussion-min, is percussion -good again. But I don't care who hears me say it, nothing will speak to your heart wi the sweetness of the man of strings!" "Strings for ever!" said little Jimmy. "Strings alone would have held their ground against all the new comers in creation.” (“True, true!" said Bowman.) "But clar'nets was death." (Death they was!" said Mr. Penny.) "And harmoniums," William continued in a louder voice, and getting excited by these signs of approval, "harmoniums and barrel-organs” (“Ah!” and groans from Spinks) "be miserable-what shall I call 'em ---miserable--" | Forty breaths, and then the last," and the leader authoritatively. Rejoice, ye tenants t the earth,' number sixty-four.” At the close, waiting yet another minute, Le said in a clear loud voice, as he had said in the village at that hour and season for the previOIS forty years : "A merry Christmas to ye !" When the expectant stillness consequent up-t the exclamation had nearly died out of them .. an increasing light made itself visible in one of the windows of the upper floor. It came so close to the blind that the exact position of the flame 'could be perceived from the outside. Remainin steady for an instant, the blind went upward from before it, revealing to thirty concentrated eyes a young girl, framed as a picture by the windowarchitrave, and unconsciously illuminating her countenance to a vivid brightness by a candle sho held in her left hand, close to her face, her n.ht hand being extended to the side of the window She was wrapped in a white robe of some kind, whilst down her shoulders fell a twining profusion of marvellously rich hair, in a wild disorder which "Sinners," suggested Jimmy, who made large strides like the men, and did not lag behind like, the other little boys. "Miserable machines for such a divine thing as proclaimed it to be only during the invisible hours music!" of the night that such a condition was discover “Right, William, and so they be!" said the able. Her bright eyes were looking into the grey choir with earnest unanimity. By this time they were crossing to a wicket in the direction of the school, which, standing on a slight eminence on the opposite side of a cross lane, now rose in unvarying and dark flatness against the sky. The instruments were retuned, and all the band entered the enclosure, enjoined | by old William to keep upon the grass. Number seventy-eight," he softly gave out, as they formed round in a semicircle, the boys opening the lanterns to get a clearer light, and directing their rays on the books. Then passed forth into the quiet night an ancient and well-worn hymn. world outside with an uncertain expression, oscillating between courage and shyness, which, as she recognised the semicircular group of dark forms gathered before her, transformed itself into pleasant resolution. Opening the window, she said, lightly and warmly : Thank you, singers, thank you!” Together went the window quickly and quietly, and the blind started downward on its return to its place. Her fair forehead and eyes vanished; her little mouth; her neck and shoulders; all of her. Then the spot of candlelight shone nebulously as before; then it moved away. "How pretty!" exclaimed Dick Dewy. "If she'd been rale wexwork she couldn't ha’ been comelier," said Michael Mail. "As near a thing to a spiritual vision as ever I wish to see!" said tranter Dewy fervently. "O, sich I never, never see!" said Leaf. All the rest, after clearing their throats and adjusting their hats, agreed that such a sight was worth singing for. HOW TO WASH A DOG. DOG was looking very scrubby about the back. I thought he was going to have the mange-not that I knew mange if I saw it, only it was a sort of word that sounded like the look of that dog's back. So I went to a friend who knew a deal about dogs (which I don't), and said mine was going to have the mange -what was good for it? Sulphur, he said, was the best thing to use; safe cure for it; no difficulty. I didn't know whether the sulphur should be taken as a pill, or put on like ointment; all I knew was that he said "sulphur," and I did not choose to expose my ignorance by asking. I concluded I would try the effects of a wash first. I went into a grocer's, and asked for threepenn'orth of soft-soap, saying in an off-hand way, "Kills fleas, doesn't it?" I had never seen soft-soap before (I never want to see it again; but let that pass), so I was interested in its appearance when I got a lump, about the size of my two fists, of a stodgy, moshy, clammylooking mass, resembling a mixture of sand and halffrozen honey. The man wrapped it up in a piece of paper, and I shud thank you." Some men always say, "Thank You." And, self-satisfied I went my way, the noble hound (N.B.-Cross between a general mongrel and a pine log) following me unconscious of his fate. It was in the back-yard that the deed was done. With a generosity worthy of a better cause, I had brought down from my bed-room my own bathone of those round, shallow, milk-pan affairs-and had filled it about two inches deep with lukewarm water. Then came the scratch; I use this word metaphorically, but it became literal before the operation was over-as the paint that is not in my bath can testify. I knew no more about the application of softsoap than of sulphur, but I thought that I could guess how to use the former, which I imagined to IN THE BATH. (Drawn by W. Ralston.) dered at the feel of it, as I put it into my coat- be harmless; while with the sulphur I might have pocket. "Thanks-good morning." 66 done it wrong, and have been had up for culpable Mornin', sir canicide. with the poetry torn out of the introduction and the number two story sacrificed. The chairman began with a short speech in which he went over almost precisely the ground covered by my introduction; and as that portion of my oration was already reduced to a fragment by the use of the verses, I quietly resolved to begin, when my turn came, with point number two. The Chairman introduced to the crowd Mr. Keyser, who was received with cheers. He was a ready speaker, and he began, to my deep regret, by telling in capital style my story number three. after which he used up some of my number six arguments. Mr. Keyser then sat down, and Mr. Schwartz was introduced. Mr. Schwartz observed that it was pleasantly familiar. Krumbauer went ahead, and the crowd received his remarks with roars of laughter. After one particularly exuberant outburst of merriment, I asked the man who sat next to me, and who seemed deeply interested in the story What was that little joke of Krumbauer's! It must have been first-rate." "So it was," he said. "It was about a Dutchman up in Berks county who got mixed up in his dates." "What dates ?" I gasped, in awful apprehension. "Why, his Fourths of July, you know. Got seven or eight years in arrears and tried to make them all up at once. Good, wasn't it?" "Good! I should think so; ha ha! My very best story, as I'm a sinner!" was hardly worth while for him to attempt to make anything like a speech, because the gentleman from New Castle had come down on purpose to discuss the issues of the campaign, and the audience, of course, was anxious to hear him. Mr. Schwartz would only tell a little story which seemed to illustrate a point he wished to make, and he thereupon related my anecdote number, seven, making it appear that he was the bosom friend of Commodore Scudder and an acquaintance of the man who made the gun. The point illustrated, I was shocked to find, was almost precisely that which I had attached to my story mumber seven. The situation began to have a serious appearance. Here, at one fell swoop, two of my best stories and three of my sets of arguments were swept off into utter uselessness. When Schwartz withdrew, a man named Krumbauer was brought forward. Krumbauer was a German, and the chairman announced that he would speak in that language for the benefit of those persons in the audience to whom the tongue It was awfully bad. I could have strangled Krumbauer and then chopped him into bits. The ground seemed slipping away beneath me; there was the merest skeleton of a speech left. But I determined to take that and do my best, trusting to luck for a happy result. But my turn had not yet come. Mr. Wilson was dragged out next, and I thought I perceived a demoniae smile steal over the countenance of the cymbal player as Wilson said he was too hoarse to say much he would leave the heavy work for the brilliant young orator who was here from New Castle. He would skim rapidly over the ground and then retire. He did. Wilson rapidly skimmed all the cream off of my arguments numbers two, five, and six, and wound up by offering the whole of my number four argument. My hair fairly stood on end when Wilson bowed and left the stand. What on earth was I to do now? In an agony of despair, I turned to the man next to me and asked him if I would have to follow Wilson. He said it was his turn now. "And what are you going to say?" I demanded, that I will not attempt to make a speech to you." suspiciously. I "Oh, nothing," he replied "nothing at all. want to leave room for you. I'll just tell a little story or so, to amuse them, and then sit down." "What story, for instance?" I asked. "Oh, nothing, nothing; only a little yarn I happen to remember about a farmer who married a woman who said she could cut four cords of wood, when she couldn't." My worst fears were realised. I turned to the man next to me, and said, with suppressed emotion"May I ask your name, my friend?" He said his name was Gumbs. "May I inquire what your Christian name is?" He said it was William Henry. "Well, William Henry Gumbs," I exclaimed, "gaze at me! Do I look like a man who would slay a human being in cold blood?" "Hm-m-m, n-no; you don't," he replied, with an air of critical consideration. "But I AM!" said I, fiercely-"I AM ; and I tell you now that if you undertake to relate that anecdote about the farmer's wife I will kill you without a moment's warning; I will, by George!" Mr. Gumbs instantly jumped up, placed his hand on the railing of the porch, and got over suddenly into the crowd. He stood there pointing me out to the bystanders, and doubtless advancing the theory that I was an original kind of a lunatic, who might be expected to have at any moment a fit which would be interesting when studied from a distance. The chairman looked around, intending to call upon my friend Mr. Gumbs; but not perceiving him, he came to me and said: "Now is your chance, sir; splendid opportunity; crowd worked up to just the proper pitch. We have paved the way for you; go in and do your best." "Oh, yes; but hold on for a few moments, will you? I can't speak now; the fact is I am not quite ready. Run out some other man." "Haven't got another man. Kept you for the last purposely, and the crowd is waiting. Come ahead and pitch in, and give it to 'em hot and heavy. Hit 'em hard, old fellow, hit 'em hard." The crowd received me with three hearty cheers. As I heard them I began to feel dizzy. The audience seemed to swim around and to increase tenfold in size. By a resolute effort I recovered my self-possession partially, and determined to begin. I could not think of anything but the two stories, and I resolved to tell them as well as I could. I said, "Fellow-citizens: It is so late now, (Cries of "Yes!" "Go ahead!" "Never mind the time !" &c. &c.) Elevating my voice, I repeated: "I say it is so late now that I can't make a speech as I intended on account of its being so late that the speech which I intended to make would keep you here too late if I made it as I intended to. So I will tell you a story about a man who bought a patent fire-extinguisher which was warranted to split four cords of wood a day; so he set fire to his house to try her, and-No, it was his wife who was warranted to split four cords of wood-I got it wrong; and when the flames obtained full headway, he found she could only split two cords and a half, and it made him- What I mean is that the farmer, when he bought the exting-courted her, that is, she said she could set fire to the house, and when he tried her, she collapsed the first time-the extinguisher did, and he wanted a divorce because his house- Oh, hang it, fellow-citizens, you understand that this man, or farmer, rather, bought a-I should say courted a-that is, a fire-ex-" (Desperately) "Fellowcitizens! IF ANY MAN SHOOTS THE AMERICAN FLAG, PULL HIM DOWN UPON THE SPOT; BUT AS FOR ME, GIVE ME LIBERTY OR GIVE ME DEATH!" As I shouted this out at the top of my voice, in an ecstasy of confusion, a wild tumultuous yell of laughter came up from the crowd. I rushed down the street to the station, with the shouts of the crowd and the uproarious music of the band ringing in my ears. I got upon a train, and spent the night riding to New Castle. D THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A WEDDING RING. with the peaceful home moved, and time passed by Ther: She never lost and look which won all heart; ..d sorrow seldom came rbgow, or turn to grey which, halo-like, hel: about her grew a group wise soft blue eyes her calm, I to look; and he let. love, still ruled her heart ...... »l, nor ever swerved one jot this perfect wife. brever on her hand, day which brought the shade sm.light, and she lost the dearest: from that time and I felt my hold lt on her cheek whene'er ad all the house grew dark, wi. in I loved so well; But from her han den chain was made, And hers, the ink now faded, and the gloss To see the golden hair I knew so well, |