A LEGAL SECRET. OHAPTBR n. Mr. Pilktngton't wife sank b*ck Id he* chair, deeply perplexed, with the packet fttUl claaped in ber hands. How could the awakening of distru.it in her ihu«band bring bappineeti to berf Sh« had married him when ahe wa» barely neren-and-twenly, and he was then patt tlvB prim* of lifeâ€" aixty or more. But hU love for herâ€" ahe had always felt thatâ€" was one of genuine devotion if he had a fault it wa-j one which most women will condone ; he was jea- lous of every look or word she bestow- ed on othext. But in his constant ef- fort to conquer Uhis weakneas â€" the only n-eakne«s in his characterâ€" he had gained faei admiration. Aftex a moments silence, while look- ing thoughtfully at the packet, she Voke In a low voice. "Led these let- ters be deatroyed." aaid she. casting a glance at the fire. "X feel that to read them would be to raise some bar- rier between u». I have had one great trouble ; I could not bear an- other." The law7er made no reply ; but a quaint ezprassion passed over liis face, ai if bid •wife's words* had touched him more deeply than wai intended. "I could not bear." she resumed, "to believe you distreased with the thought that in keeping one secret from me you had lewened my affeotion for you. Let me imagine â€" whether right or wrongâ€" that your motive wa» a good one. It must have been I Few men have keeneor Judgment. In your wisdom and supreme kno<wledge of the world, you decided to do wtiat you have done ; you tave kefjt thi* one deedâ€" whatever it may beâ€" hidden from me. Let it be forgotten." And a* she spoke she rose from ber chair, and stepping quickly toward* the hearth, knelt down before the fire and droi>ped the paoket into the blaze. "There I" said ahe. "It i» forgotten. Tlhere is no secret that di- rldas us now." Mr. Pilkington in his motionless at- titude watohes the flames. The red tape which binds the paoket grows black and breaks sounder ; and then the scorched letters partially untold Ltaemselves, and expose to view detach- ed .sentences and syllables as they curl into grotesque alhapes. He never takes his eyes off the fire, but sits there lost in thought, even when every flimsy particle has sunk among tlM red-hot coals and vaniabed. Took'a Court, Chancery Lane, has not a very sunny outlook even on the brightest of days; it is shut in on all sides, except at the narrow entrance, by tall antique houses with dusty shel- ves over their doorways and dusty stone steps below. The open window-shut- ters, begrimed wilJi many coalings of London smoke, are fastened by rusty hook.s a«ainat the walls. A dull wintry patch of sky hangs overhead; and Troiu there a twilight falls upon hurrying lig- ures- with their echoing footsteps and flitting shadowsâ€" passing in and out of this old courtyard. When the evjsning Ixwomes still more gloomy, and the patch of sky is a mere patch of black, a dismal street lamp in the centre of the Court throws a glimmer through its dusty panes upon the bouses on each side; and where the blinds are not yet drawn, and there is no stronger light to o|)po8e it, this modest gleam enters a room quite boldly. There is one room in particular, in which a youUK girl >s sealed over a cheerless fire, wliere this ghost of a lighl loukji iu; and it only seems to add to the cheerless surround- ings. For the room is small, diujfy, and threadbare iu appearance. The carpet is worn in places aliuusl to the boards; anil there are splashes of ink on the floor, and even on the walls, us if a shower of writitig fluid had recently fallen. Although .simply dressed in a dark serge, the girl iippcarK out of place in the midst ot such obvious poverly. There is little in her louk and manner to sug- ge.'-t contentment, or even subuiiMSion. The knitted brow, the curl of the pret- ty lips, tlu) expressive pressure of the fingers against the dar^k hair, indicate a self-willed*and sensillvu nature; and so absorbed is she in her own tbuuglils, that neither the sound of a peculiar .•step in the courtyard, nur even the rat- tling of a latchkey in the door atlrart« her attention. It is only when a lean, shabby-looking man with a xwizened face comes In that the girl starts and glances up. Bhe tries bravely to bide her dejection with a little laugh as hlie holds out her hand to welcome him to a place beside her on the hearth. Dreaming again, llosaf "â€" and while speaking, the man »al iluwn liefore the fire and began lu warui his hands. "Dreaming again It" His tone, although reproachful, was nut wanting in affec- tion. "I was wondering," said she, w bile stroking a large bhu :. rat on the hearthrug at ber feet, "wimlher the im- pressions of my childhoodâ€" the time seems so distant â€" (v>ul(l be mere (unry'l How old was I dad, when you first took me in I" The man regarded llosa thoughtfully. "How old t Jletween five and six.â€" But I can't fix a date, my dear^" he added; that's imposNiblu. Your birthday, you know, wa.sn't spoken of." Pausing a moment to tap a little wooden box, he axtrocted a pinch of snuff and then re- sumed, as though speaking; to himself; "No; he was a reticent party, he was" â€" and he shook his head at the recollec/- tionâ€" "a very reticent party indeed." '"IVelve years ago," said Itosaâ€" "twelve years to-day t" "This very day. Twelve years this afternoon, my dear, sinoe he left you under our oare. And that's why," he added, "we call this your birthday." Xnd DOW, as he shifted bis seat to t ho table and leant over a portable desk with his l>aok to the window, it l)ecame apparent that he and this little parlor must have grown inky and threadbare together. The man's face was sallow and creased like parchment that has been kept in the du.sty corner or a lawyer's office for years;, and his scanty hair was of a gray dingy color that might have belonged to a dusty corner too. And yet the man's appear- ance could scarcely have failed to awak- en sympathy. It was kindly in expres- sion, and there was something irresist- ibly pathetic in the gray watery eyes. "Then I am seventeen to-day," said ^tho girlâ€" "or am I eighteen? I think 1 , mu.st 1)6 eighteen, dad," she went on I in a thoughtful mood, "for some of my I dreams as you call them, seem like real- ity.â€" What was the gentleman like?" "The party was keen-featured." Then he added musingly: "1 shouldf know him again among a thousand." "He never told you my name?" "Why, no. You told us that," said the man. "Mother aslked you as soon as he was gone. "Rosa," says you.â€" But : as 1o your surname, we never could I make that out." I "Ah! If we only knew my name," ; said the girl in a low voics, "you would have found out long ago whether the home which I have so often told you about was really mine; and whether that beautiful faceâ€" a face bending over my jiillow at nightâ€" was the face of my own mother. It sometimes seems to iiie as if it must have been true," she add- ed, with a look of dis(-ontent returning to her face. "Is it not a shame, if my parents are rich that I should live in such poverty as this?" 1'he old man loobed troubled. He took a quill p«n from behind his ear and began to stroke his chin agitatedly, and looked at the girl and then at his (leak. "Uosa," said he, presently break- ing the silence, "what is the use, my dear, of thinking so much about the past f jit leads to no good; it only makes one wretched.- Not that I've any right to expect," he added in an al- most humble tone, that removed any suspicion of Irony, "that a young lady born in the lap of luxuryâ€" if I may so express myselfâ€" oould easily lead her- self to take a much brighter view of this life. Before we came to townâ€" be- fore mother diedâ€" there were fields to run about in, and you were younger. But there's a bit of garden in New oquare, just across Chancery Lane; and there s Lincoln's Inn Fields hard by; and when one listens to the sparrows, though It ain't much of a song, it makes one fancy, as the birds must do, that the spring ain't very far olf now." I'he brightening hopeful look on the careworn features which accompanied these words brought a smile to llosa 's lips. Bh« left her seat a*d went and laid her hand tenderly op the man's shoulder. 'Uadd^,' eaii^feie, with a repentant look, "i will try to be more rea.sonable; I will try to think less about my sunny childhood. 1 always get dreaming more on my birthday, as we call It, than any other time. Don't 1»" the man nouded and smiled. "But, daddy, 1 was not thinking al- together about myself," she went on, though I know 1 m very selfish; 1 was thinking, if I could tind my beautiful mother, that I could tell her what a fa- ther you had been to me; und she would maic you rich and happy " \\ ould she f Ah, my dear," said the man shaJcing his head incredulously, you don t know the world.â€" But I'm forgetting," he suddenly added, with a glance towards the w.ndow. "I'm ex- pecting a visitor; he may be here at any uioinenL I" "A visitor?" t K\", ^''*" *-'""'"«â- I" I was advised, at 1 ilkingions," tHe man explained, and â€" "t'llkmgton I" riho spoke scarcely ttl>ovo a whisper. •'How that name re- minds mu of my old home." 'And," the man cuniinued, scarcely heeding the interruption, "the junior partner, Mr. Trench, being too busy to see me, sent oul a message to say Ihal as soon as he was disengaged he would step over and have a talk aliout the work. There's a vacancy in the office; and It looks very much as if I should gel the po.st." This was good news. For the last few I weeks the poor clerk had been out of , employ iiieni, .and his slender savings were oxiiausted. He had confessed lo I llosa only yesterday that the last shil- ling had ijoeu ihanged, and that unless he gol work I hey wuulU have Lo face a serious si;u.itiou. i«ut he did nol lose heart; he a.-.surod her lUat it was bet- ter to laugh over their troulile- oven though it might mean .starvationâ€" tiian break down in tears as she had done. Hasa thought of his words now, as I she stood at iho window and looked out I into the dismal Court; and while she I still stood tht-ro, she heard a quick step j below, and saw a youno' man with a , frank, handsome face slop ai iheir door and rai.se the knocker. She could see him glancing up at ber by the street , lamp. Sidney Trench- for it was heâ€" having i knocked at the old house in 'look's I Court, again glanced towards the win- idow; and the glimpse ho gained of the girl by the dim light thrown upon her set him wondering. ^Vhore had he seen that pretty dark (ace before? Next ' moment the door opened and the dank fat!e was looking uj) inquiringly al hiin. (And now, so familiar did her whole ap- pearance seem to Sidney, that he could scarcely suppress a siii.lu of recognition. .Where bad they niei. .iiid when* 'llies<> questions rose to his lips; but he could not give them uttorunoe. He could only look at the girl in silent wonder and admiration. It was like a dream-sc<^ne that bad flashed Ihrough bis brain only to vex and bewilder him. I "J)o you wish lo seu Air. Norris?'" IHer voice scarcely recalled him; for it puzzled him too, little else than the I face. I "Yiw. Does he live here?" I She led the way into the parlor. "He iwill l>e with you directly.â€" Are you Mr. Trench ?" I He was standing with his back to- I wards the window. The girl lingered ' at the door, and was glancing at him 'with modest curiosity. Was It his fancy or was there a look of recognition in ' her eyes tool He hastened to answer I her. "My nnme is Trf^nchâ€" Sidney Trench. ] Have I the pleasure to address Miss ' Norris?" bho hesitated a moment before answ- ering; then she locyked up into his face an'l .said: "My name is Uosa." \n exclamation nearly escaped him. but and ftx- "only But at th'js moment the old clerk came in with a light. It was an antique readingrlamp, of which the glass was broken. Hosa went out and Abel Norris closed the door. "Pray lie seated, sir;" and Sidney sat down by the fireside where the girl had , eben dreaming not many minutes be- I fore. I Norris placed himself at his desk; he I was more at his ease in that position. Taking the quill from his ear, he dipped I it in the ink with some show of en- ergy, such is the force of habit; then he waited for Sidney to speak. "You have had some years' experi- ence," the young man suggested, "in a lawyer's office *" "Fifty, sir: fifty years, and one or two to spare." Sidney scrutinized the clerk's face. "In London?" "At St. Albaas," said Norris, "for ov- er forty year^. Since then, we've been wandering here and there; for when mother died" â€" "Your wife?" "That's what I should say â€" my wife. For when she died," he resumed, "we thought we would seeik our fortune, so to speak. We have met with nothing but misfortune." "I'm sorry to hear that," said Sidney sympathetically; "and I hope your for- tune will now mend." For a moment the young lawyer look- ed thoughtful. He then re.sumed: "All that I bav« heard about you," said he, "maJies me anxious, if I can, to serve you. And I would offer you without hesitation a place in our office; but I find it impossible to do so." Sidney Trench, without turning his head, glanced towards the old clerk; for he beard the pen drop from the man's fing- ers. Sle now observed that he was pressing his bands to his head in a deiipairing attitude. There was a lengthy pause. Sidney felt that after his conversation with Mr. Pilkington, he would be acting decid- edly iu opposition to his wishes if be en- gaged this clerik. How, then oould he serve one who appeared so deserving ? He bad roused his interest; and was be not also interested in the dark eyes that had looked up into his face when he came in? The young lawyer turned to tihe clerk, "Mr. Norris," «iid he. "1 have isomething to propose. Al- though I cannot promise, at least not at once, a .situation in our offiue, thera is no reason wiby you should not work hiere. I want w>me deeda and other documents copied. Will you undertake to do this for mo'?" Norris brisikly picked up his pen. "Here, sir, at my desk ? It is the meth- od I should prefer." "Is it ? Then you r>hall begin," said Sidney, "to-morrow morning.â€" Mean- while," added the young man, taking a cheque from tils pocket, "put this in your desk." The old clerk could not speak ; his trembling ouLstretcIied hand the tears thut efprang to his eyes pressed his gra<i,ttide. "You/.^v« â- »• family ?" Sidney pre- sently remarked. "Nu, sir, none," said Norris; iiusa. Sidney regarded tb« man keenly. "The young girl wiho"â€" ho hesitated aligiully- "w ho let me in 1" "Yas." "Ah." wid Sidoey, assuming indif- ference, "a graudiibild, perhaps'?' "An ado|/ied dauguitex."â€" After a moment's bileuce, h« added: "It's a .'Strange atory." "Indeed I" Sidney looked up inquir- ingly iuio the old clerk's face. Norris became tihuughlful ; and then iu a low voice, as if recalling lo mind the incident rather than addressing Sidney Trenob. 'he i«aid : "It was one afternoon, a wintry afternoon, just twelve years ago. I was sitting at my desk at St. Albansâ€" as it might be nowâ€" and happening to glunc« towards the window, 1 saw an elderly gentle- man coming across tiu) road. The gen- tleman sioi>pbd and seeing my wife al lliie fxont dour spoke to her ; and presently they came in together, where 1 was bitting. My wile was holding a uhtidâ€" a liille girlâ€" by the luind." Pausing a moment with the IMiUsive look .sliil on iiis face, he then resumed. He b;i<l placed his snuff-bos on tue table, but had not mustered the courage yet, iu uhe presence of his new master, to exti-act a pinuh. "A pret- tier child," said lie, "with her dark eyes and thick lilack huir, I never saw. 1 took to (her at once â€" fell in love with hex, so to t4Jeak, at first sight I The genlleman briefly explained his errand, lie was going abroad â€" he did not itay lor huw lung, and wauiud a home for the child. He had been recomuieuded to call upon us. Would we undertake tlie charge oi Ihis little girl during his absence t He would pay us liber- ally" "Can you recall to mind," interrupt- ed oidney, "what this gentleman was like?" "Yes; I shall never forget that," re- plied Norris. "A »tern face, with thick grey eyebrown. 1 don't remem- ber thu eyes, but it was a hard mouth; a hard man, i thought ; a reticent man, who seemed to read your charac- ter at a glance, and gain your confi- dence by sheer force of intellect. A mure clever laceâ€" as I expressed my- self to my wile at the time- 1 never .saw." I "Whal age did he appear'?' "Between .sixty and seventy. And I remember (hinking â€" perhaps be- cause I had to do wiih the law my- selfâ€"that he must be a member of the I legal profession." In an abseul-inind- ' ed manner. Norris took a pincih of .snuff, and then concluded : "We awept- ed the offer gladly enough, for we were very poor. He placed fifty pounds in bank notes in my hand ; and be wrote down an address in Paris, and promised t.but we iSihuuld soon hear from liiiii again. 1 posted letters to that address, but never received any asnwer ; no at last I c«ase«l writing* \Ve have iwithor seen nor heard any- thing of him sinoe." Sidney now tose and stood on the tiearthprug, \vith an earnest look on his face. "A mysterious affair. Have you no clue ?" "None. I have even lost the address in Paris." "How comes It that you call the girl Rosa J" "Ah I we wiere just talking about that, .sir, before you came. She told us herself that her name was Rosa: and that was all ahe could tell us, though we questioned her over and over again." Sidney Trench, thinking over all that he had learnt from Abel Norris, began to recall to mind in a dreamy way his boyhood. H« had had a play-, mate in those daysâ€" now twelve years I agoâ€" and he had named her his little iHweetheart. She was a child. h« could well remember. But he had been .sent away to a school in Switzerland fojr three years, and ahe had gone out of his young life ; for when he return- ed to England sihe was never spoken j of in Siiis presence. Hut an incident , which had impressed him deeply had ! one day occurred. Mr. I'ilkington had ' been appointed his guardian by Sid- ney'.* father, the late senior partner. It was a grave responsibility. Sidney Trench was very young ; and Mr. Pilkington, even at that time, was get- ting on in years; and adiould he die, this was when Sidney was fourteen, all the legal secrets, as tar as Trenoh. Pilkingion and Trench were con- cerned would die with him. To read between t^he lines of legal docu- ments which lay in deed-boxes in ev- ery corner of the old house would bo imi)os.sible ; and the calamity, if it came about, could only be compared to the loss of a bunch of keys which! could never be replaced ; for the clients would take their secrets elsewhere. an dthe great firm would dwindle into comjiaralive significance. The very thought of such a mishap â€" as Sidney had been thought to believe in his wondering boyhoodâ€" waj» en- ough to shorten his guardian's life. (To be Continued.) EMIGRATION TO BRAZIL. The n«KC* That iBvclvrd Several â- â- â- «»»«• ort'anadlaao !â- Mach SulTertng. The attempt to supply iu part, the great demand for labor on the coffee plantations of this countor by inducing a lot of Canadians to come here with a view to settlement was a complete fiasco, says a Sajitos, Brazil, correspon- dent. The disappointed unmigrants, with- the aid of charity, have returned to their former homes. Instead of a blessing they have been a detriment bo Brazil, for the story of their hard- sWpa reflecU unjustly upon this re- public and upon the State of Sao Paulo, which, in particular promoted this Im- migration. rhe coffee plantere of this State are sorely in need of a good supply of labor. The negroes were freed eight years ago, and cannot be relied ujxin to supply nearly all tlie labor needed. With in- adequate labor th,ere has been at the same time an enormous expansion, of coffee planting, and relief has been sought through the encouragement of Immigration, the usual method being to pay to an immigration or steamship company a certain sum per head for the immigrants they bring here. Each Canadian who was landed here cost the Government of Sao Paulo $45. In this neighliorhood immigration depots were reared at elevations that were SAFE FROM YELLOW FEVER, and Uist year the 87,688 immigrants landing in Sao Paulo received eaoh free boa/rd and lodging for eight days, to give them ample opportunity to make airangements with the crovird of far- mers who were anxious to employ them. More tlhan half of last year's immi- grants were Italians. It is found that they do not like farm work and fail to give satisfaction on the plantations. The most of them soon forsake the farms and congregate in the towns, and, like the Chinese, they ha.v« no intention of remaining permanently in this country. Tne immigrants desired are those who intend to keep their say- ings here and remain permanently in thcc«)untry. Another disadvantage un- deji' whicJi we laboir is that, on account of the high price of coffee, agricultural einergy has chiefly been devoted to its production, lo the neglect of lireadstuffs and other food products which we have to imtHJrt. at very high prices. So the Government decided to try to establish new colonies and give them some a.saistance in the way of estab- lishing IhenLselves in the business of raising breadstuffs. and vegetables. Mast of the Ji:uropean.s who come here are not desirable tor thus work, alnd it was decided lo try, if possible, a new race of men. A contract were given to an Italian agency to bring 10,000 Cana- dians to this country. It wius <>x?>ected that months would elainse before any of these inimigrania aoTiVftd. but the company by too glow- ing and unauthorized promises soon got together about 1,000 persons. The hue and cry that was made alw)Ut it in Canoida frightened more than half of thie lot befoi-e they sailed, but 471 were finally euitorked. and they arrived here early in October last. Great wan th* disappointment when it was found that tihey were not the sort of immignints deal red. They emlwirked from Can- ada, but there were Arabs, Irish. Ital- ian, and oth*r Old World natives among theau. In fact THKY WERE MOSTLY RIKFRAFF, i-ollei'ted imIiKcriminately, and were not at all fitted for the agricultural labor tlh") were expected to engage in. 'llhey had arrived prematurely, the State was not ready to organize tihe col- on es it h.id in contemplation, and they could not tie .started with such material iin any event. So the party wa.^ tak- en to the usual depot, where coffee planters eagerly sought to employ them. Some of them accepted the work, but many admitted that they were physically unfitted for such serv^ ic*. and insisted upon being assigned to homes with Government aid, accord- ing to the piroini.ses made them. The Government could do nothing with them on the lines propased, and finally they were tunned out of the depot and had to shift for theiuselvea. Afte,r many hardships and priivatiotis most of the-m have succeeded, I>y public and private aid, in retuTning to Canada. So tihe efforts, thus far, to iotroduc* the Anglo-Saxon are a failure, and it is extremely doubtful if the expcri^ meat is worth repeatinjj. There Ls little probability that the residents of north- ern regions like Canada can ea.sily ad- opt th/emeelvee to toil in the fields of this hot country. A BAD CAkS,E. "You wouldn't believe It, but Gram- py has a bad case of swe,Iled head." "There must be some mistake." "Not a bit of it. Genuine oid-fasihr ioned mumpa on both sides." THE JUBILEE SOUVEBiBS. ALL ENGLAND GOES WIL1> ON THI QUESTION or «aeea Vleterls'a Dianaad JaMIe* â€" Wklle the Dealrn la These Memeatoea •rthe Bveht Are Bcapiag â- Seldeh Ma*- vest. It is impossible to overestimafe th* manner in which business is booming in the British Isles, as a diieot result of the enormous demand* for souveniri of the coming "Diamond Jubilee " of Queen Victoria, says a London letter. All sorts of traders seem to be prepar- iing for a huge busineaa, and even now there are goods enough actually in th« ituu-ket to suggest doubts as to whethr er many commercial enthusiasts will not find themselves oveirstocked. From jubilee Bibles and prayer book* down to jubilee back-hair combe a«4 toothpicks, all sorts of goods are readjn for ciustDmers or soon will be. Amontf tlie prayer books is a handsome volum* iji four sizes, embellished by two par- traits of Her Majesty^â€" one In liat yooutU, the other in the imperial dlg^ nity of mature womanhDod. Four sizes of Bibles are also bei<og prepared, ott eacAi, of which' will be two portralta d THE QUEEN. Oiie in which she is wearing the aid "poke " bonnet of the early reign, and the other iu indoor dress. This lattsa â€"of course, unlike the early oneâ€" ta a reproduction from a photograph, and is a lifelike portrait of the Queen in her widow weeds, seated in an axmr ohaar, with a walking atick in band^ Portraits and busts of Her Majeatf ar« being turned out in every imagin- able form. Art pottery eetablishment* are busy in the preparation of vasea aj»d otlher articles. The textile factor- iee of the North are rushijig off por- braita by the hundreds of thousands ia v«lvet for the making of cushions, and in ciheaper mateirial for silk and cob- ton handkerchiefs. As to handkerehiets, they are being reeled off without the slightest refer- ence to the number of noses to b» found under the Britiish flag; and if on the forthooming 22d of June feeling should be so stirred that not a try eye should be found in the whole of John Bull's dominions, there ought to be aa ample supply of handkerchiefs for th* occasion, if only they get properly di«- tributed. Ingenuity seems to har« been taxed to the utmost lo make them interesting as well as useful, and a very; good historical education could be ob- tained by the stmjile device of usins a fresh jubilee pocket handkerchief evi- eny day out of a stook laid in frook some of the London warehousea juat mow. It is litarally a royal road to learning. One elaborate iinen square, for instance, gives, together with • large number »t portraits, and dates. views of old Loudoo and New, picture* of old and new bottlealhips, of earljl railroad trains and modern expre^wea, and of old four-in-hand coaches and thtt latest motor cars. With a well select- ed slock of such articles the develo{H uient of the historical sense in a child should be easy. TO NURTURE ROYALTY. In this memorable year tens of thoufl- aniis of cihiildren all over the British dominions will have a knowledge of hi.story rubbe<l into them with every cake of soap, and will take in the ev- ents of Her Majesty's rwign by ths (lores of the skin. A wholesale list just printed enumerates hundreds of artir. dee, all especially prepared for the ju'l>. ilee. There are purses, writing cases, pearl ne<'iklets, China mugs and cups and saucers, mirrors, and ebony Urushect, neetlle coses, picture books, ivory plaques, pincushions, wall decor- ations, flag l>i-o(K-.he.s, and maltese cross- eis. ^Vs to cards of cungratulal ion, and portraits ami busts, these things are falling all over the ISritish Empircthioik as l^eavevs in autumn. Many are very handsome, though .some, especially of the busts, seem to hive beon turned out with a prudential regard to tha pciLssibility of not being c.le.;ired out this celebration, anil of having on some fi»- tuits oivasion to represe-nt other distin- gui.slM^d persons. there is one small bust on the mar- ket that would pass very well for a portrait of John Milton, if o^'casion should hereafter require. Miin.v of the uictures and liltle plaster casts are, however, very goixl. Of a CERTAIN LITTLE BUST,_ The original of which ia said to be ia the po.-^ .session of the Quesiii, one city house gave the other day an or<ler for J.'),000 worth, ami in re,ply to a doubt aa to whether they would ever see that money back, it wus stated that they had alreaily received orders tor f 4,500 worth! which mean.s that of this one articla 25,000 to 30.000 have been sold to store- keepers. Tiu) fear seems to be thit the produc- tion will not keep up with the demand, .Some large houses have been unable to fill orders troan colonial customers for small souvenirs, and as to fla.g8 and bunting in general, wreiiths of artificial flowers, and gilded foliage, of fairy lamps and Chinese and Japanese lan- lernsâ€" everything of a decorative na- ture, the demand is already threaten- ing to deauomlize the factory owner* and every week it will increase. C { THE PERK EOT FORM. When a wojiian is well proportioned and hBT weight i;s correct according to her height she may consider herseilf en- titled to good health, barring at^oitients. The weight of a woman of 5 ft. should be 110 lbs.; 5ft. Iin., U5 lbs.; 5ft. 2in., 120 lbs.; 5 twt 3 in., 129 lljs.; 5 ft. 4 in., 134 lbs.; 5 ft. 5 in., 142 lbs.; 5 tti G in., 146 lbs.; 5 ft. 7 in., 152 lbs.; Ott. 8in.. 160 lbs. There are very few women who have what might be called per- fect forms.