ID.A.'^W^lSr. ^^* ft CHAFTRR SVI.â€" Continued. "Yuu are tryiog to make me vain. You forget that whatever I know, which is Just enough to show rae how much I have to learn, I have learned Crom you. As for beiner your super- tor in mathematics, I don't think that, â- a a clergyman, you should make such a statement. Here is your tea." And the owner of the voice came forward into the ring of light. She was tall beyond the ordinary height of woman, and possessed un- Uflual beauty of form, that the tight fitting gray dreas she wore was well calculated to display. Her complex- Ion, which was of a dazzling fairness, w^ set off by the darkpess of the laahes that curled over the deep gray iyea. The face itself was rounded and very lorely, and surmounted by an am- ple forehead, whilst her hair, which was twisted into a massive knot, waa of a tinge of ohestnut sold, and mark- .ed w}tb deepHset ripples. The chirm of her face, however, did mot, as is so often the case, begin and end with ita physical attractions. There was more much more, in it than tliat. Bat how is It possible to deecrib* on paper a presence at ence so full of grace and dignity, of the soft lovaliness of wo- man, and of a higher and more spirit- ual beauty t There bangs in the Lou- vre a picture by Raphael, which re- presents a saint passing with light steps over the prostrate form of a Aragon. There is in that heaven- in- spired face, the equal of which has been rarely, if ever, put on( canvas, a blend- ing of earthly beauty and of the calm, awe-compelling spirit-gaze â€" that gaze, that holy dignity which can only come to such as are In truth and in deed "pure in heart"â€" that will give to those who hnow it a better idea of what Angela was like than any written de- scription. At times, but, ah, ho"w rarely I wo may have seen some such look as that â- ha wore on the faces of those around us. It may be brought by a great sor- row, or be the companiuni of an over- whelming joy. It may announce the consummation of some nublime seif- sacrlflce. or oonvey the swift assurance of an everlasting love. It is to t>e found alike on the features of the hap- py mother as she kisses her new-born babe, and on the pallid countenance }f the saint sinking to his rest. The <barp moment that brings us nearer 'iod, and goes nigb to piercing the veil that hiUa His preseuc«, ia the occas- ion thut culls it into being, it is a the conclusion of our studies by tak- ing a holiday." "I with you would take me with you." Mr. Fraser colored slightly, and his eye brightened. He sighed as he ans- wered : "1 am atraid, my dear, that it would be impossible." Something warned Angela not to pursue the subject. "Now, Angela, I believe that it is usual, on the occasion of the severance of a si'holastic eonne:'tion, to deliver something in the naiure of a farewell oration. Veil, I am not going to do that, but I want you to listen to a tew words." She did not answer, but. drawing a stool to the corner of the fireplace, ahe wiped her eyes and sat down al- most at his feet, clasping her knees with her bands, and ga:2ing rather sad- ly into the fire. "You have, dear Angela," he began, "been educated in a somewhat unusual way, with the result that, after ten years of steady work that baa been always interesting, though somewhat arduous, you have acquired informa- tion denied to the vast majority of your sex, whisltat the same time you could hei put to blush in many things by a school-girl of fifteen. For instance, though I firmly believe that you could at the present moment take a double first at the university, your knowledge of English literature is almost nil. and your tistory of the wieakest. All a woman's ordinary accomplishments, such as drawing, playing, singing, have of necessity been to a great extent neg- lected, since I was not able to teach them to y^ou myself, and you have had to be guided solely by books and the light of nature in givingt to them such time as you could spare. "Your mind, on the other hand, has been daily saturated with the noblest thoughts of the intellectual giants of two thousand years ago, and would in that respact be aa much in place in a well-edacated Grecian maiden living before the time of Chriat as in an Eng- lish girl of yie nineteenth century. "I have educated you thus, Angela, partly by accident and partly by de- sisrn You will remember when you began to come here some ten year.s sinceâ€" you were a little thing thenâ€" and I had offered to give you some teaching, because you interested me and I saw that you were running wild in mind and boily. But. when I huil undertaken the task I wa.s somewhat puzzled how to carry it out. It is one thing to offer to educate a little ^irl, and another to do it. Not know- ing where to be^in, I fell back upon the Latin grammer, where I had Im!- pun myself, and so by degrees you slid into the curriculum of a cla.ssical and mathematical education. Then, after a year or two, 1 perceived your power of work and your great natural abil- ity, and I formed a design. I said to myseU, 'I will see how far a woman cultivated under favorable conditions can go. I will patiently tea<-h this girl till the literature ot Greece and Home becomes as familiar to her us her mother-tongue, till figures and sym- bols bide no mvst»riea from her, till . , ,1 she can rea<i the heavens like a book. I cauty born of the murmuring sound , j ^in ig^y^ her mind to follow the sac- »L' the harps of heaven,'' it is the light ; ret ways of knowledge. I will train it of the eternal lamp gleaming faint- till it can soar above its fellows like , .. 1 -1 »ui 1.-1. I •â- * falcon above sparrows.' .-Xngela, my ;y through Its earthly casket. I p„„rf design, pursued steadily through â- fhis spirit-louk, before which all . niany years, has been at length uc- . ickedness must feel a^«hamed, had complished : your bright intellect has IH! loved, belovedt found a home in Angela's gray eyes. v.asa strange nobility about her. Wlia- iher it dwelled in the stately form, or on the broad bro»v. or iu the large glance of the deep eyes sible to say ; but it wa« certainly a part of herself as eelf-evident as her face or features. She miitht well have bean the inspiration of tbe lines that run: "Truth in her mlKht. Grand in her sway ; Truth with her eyes. Clearer than day ; Holy HH'I pure, beloved. Spotless and free ; la there one tbiug, beloved. Fairer thuu thee I" Mr. Fraser absently sat down tb« taa that Angela was giving him, when we look the liLerty to describe her per- sonal appearance. "Now, Angela, read a little." "What shall I read?" "Oh I anything vsu like ; please your- •alf." Thus enjoined, she went to a book- •helf, and, taking down two volumes, kanded one to Mr. Fraser, and then, opening her copy at hap-hstzard, an- neunced the page to her companion, and. sitting down, began to read. What sound is this, now -soft an I mel- odious as the sweei> of a summer gale over a southern sea, and now again like to the distant stamp and rush and break of the wave of l>attle> What oan it be but the roll of those mag- nificent hexameters with which Mom- •r charms a Hsteninii world. .Vnd rarely have Knglish lips given ihena with a Juster cadence. "Stop, my dear, shut up your book ; JOVL are as good a Greek scholar as I oan make you. Shut up your book tor the last time. You education, my dear Angela, i.s satisfactorily complet- ed. I have succeeded with you " "Completed, Mr. B'raser !" said Ange- la, open-eyed. "Do you mean to say tShat I am to step now ju.st as 1 have begun to learn ?" ' My dear, you have learned every- thing that I can teach you. and, be- •ides. I am going away the day after to-morrow." "Going away I" and then and there, without the Slightest warning, Angela â€"who, for all her beauty and learning, very much resembled the rest of her â- exâ€" burst into tears. "Come, oome, Angela," said Mr. Fras- •r, in a voice meant to be gruff, but only succeeding In being husky, for, oddly enough, it is trying even to a clergyman on the wrong side of middle age to be wept over by a lovely woman; "don't bo nonsensical ; I am only go- ing for a few montlui^" At this intelligence she pulled up a little. "Oh," «she said, between her sobs. "how you frightened me I How could you be so cruel I Wbeia are you go- ing to?" ' 1 am going for a long trip in Soutb- •rnj^urope. Do you know that I have Marcely been away from this place for tw»nty years? so I mean to celebrate rLien to the strain I havoi put u|Min it and you are at Ibis moment one of the best all-round scholars of my a<'4uaint- auie." .She flushed tu the eyes at this high ;» iM „^t „„a praise, and was about to niwak. but It IS not pos- £^ .topped her with a motion of the hand, and went on : 'I have recognized in teaching you a fact but too little known, that a classical educaUon, properly under- stood, is the foundation of all learn- ing. 'I'here is little that is worth sajr- iiig which has not already been l^eauti- fully said by the ancients, little that is worthy of meditation on which they have not already profoundly reflected, save, indeed, the one great subject of ChrUtian meditation. This founda- tion, my dear Angela, you possess to an eminent degree. Henceforth you will need no n.'wistance from me or any other man, for. to your trained mind, all ordinary knowledge will be easy to assimilate. You will receive in the course ot a few days a parting present from myself in the shape of a box of carefully chosen books on Ku- ropean literature and history. Devote yourself to the study of these, and of the German language, which was your mother's native tongue, for the next year, and then I shall consider that you are fairly finished, and then, too, my dear Angela, I shall expect to reap a full reward for my labors." "What is it that you will e.\i>eot of me 1" "I shall expet^t, .\ngela," and he rose from his cbair and walked up and down the room In hLs excitementâ€" "I shall expect to see you take your proper place in your generation. I shall say: 'Choose your own line, become a criti- cal scholar, a practical mathematician, orâ€" and perhaps that is what you are moat suited for with your imaginativo powersâ€" a writer ot fiction. For re- member that fiction, properly under- stood and directed to worthy aims, is the noblest and most far-reaching, as it is also the most difficult of the arts.' In wati'hinK the success that will assur- edly attend yo« in thus or any other line, I shall be amply rewarded for my trouble." Angela shook her head with a ?;e8ture ot doubt, but ho did not wait or her to an.<iwer. "Well, my dear, I must not keep you any longer â€" it is quite dark and blow- ing a gale of windâ€" except to say one more word. Keuiember that alt this isâ€" indirectly, perhaps, but still none the less trulyâ€" a meivns to an end. There are two education.s, the educa- tion of the mind anrV tl't' education ot the .soul ; unless you minister to the latter, all the time and toil spent up- on the former will prove to little pur- pose. The learning will, it is true, re- main: but it will be as that quartz out of which the gold' has been already V rushed, or the dry husks ot corn. It will be valuless apd turn to no good use. will serve only to feed the swine of intellectual voluptuousnass and in- fidelity. It in, believe me. the higher learning of tbe soul that gilds our earthly lore. 'I'he loftier objcii of all education is so to train tbe intellect that it may become competent to un- ilerstand something, however liltle, oi tb3 nature of our God, and to the tiue : Christian the real end of learning is the appre<'iation of His attributes as exemplified in His mysteries and earth- ly wonders. Hut jierhaps that is a subject on which you are aa well fitted to discourse as I am, so I will not enter into it. 'Finis,' my dear, 'finis.'" Angela's answer to this long oration was a simple one. She rose slowly from her low seat, and, putting her hands upon Mr. Fraser's shoulders, kissed him on the f(>rehead and said: "How shall I ever earn to Ije grate- ful enough for all 1 owe you? What should I have been now but for you ! Hjw good and patient you have been to me !" This embrace affected the clergyman strangely ; he put his hand to his heart, and a troubled iook came into his eyes. Thrusting her gently away from him, he sat down. "Angela," he said, presently, "go away now, dear, I am tired to-night; I shall see you at church to-morrow to say good-bye." And so she went homeward through the wind and storm, little knowing that she left her master to struggle with a tempest far more tremendous than that which raged around her. As for him, as the door closed he gave a sigh ot relief. "Pray God I have not put it off too long." he said to himself. "And now for to-morrow's sermon. Sleep for the young ! laughter for the happy I work for old folksâ€" work, work, work !" And thus it was that Angela became a scholar. CHAPTER XVn. The v^ter months passed sway slowly for Angela, but not by any means un- happily. Though she was quite alone and missed ilr. Fraser sadly, ahe foimd considerable consolation in bis pre- sent of books, and in the thought that she was getting a good hold of her new- subjects of study. And then came tbe wonder of the spring with its rush of budding life, and who, least of all An- gela could be sad in spring-time? But nevertheless that spring marked an important change in our heroine, for It was during its sweet hours, when, having put her books aside, she would roam alone, or in company with her ravens through tbe flower-starred woods around the lake .that a feeling of restlessness amounting at times al- most to dissatisfaction, took posse.H- sion of her. Indeed, as the weeks crept on and she drew near the com- pletion of her twentieth year, she re- alized with a sigh that she could no longer cull herself a girl, and began to feel that her life was incomplete that something was wanting in it. Vnd this was what was wanting in .Vngela's life; she bad. if we except her nurse, no one to love, and she bad .so much love to give! Did she but guess it, tbe still recesses of her heart already tremble to the footfall of one now drawing near; out of the multitude of tbe lines around her. a life b marked to mingle with her own. She does not Icnow it, but as the first reflectioa of tbe dawn strikes the unconscious sky and shodows the coming of its king, the red flush to her brow tells of girlhood's twilight that now so often springs unlMdded ended, and proclaims the advent of woman's life and love. "Angela," called her father one day, as he beard her footsteps passing his study, "come in here; I want to speak to you." Uis daughter stoi)[)ed. and a look of Idunk aston:*lunenit spread itself over her face. .She hod not been called in- to that study tor years. .She entered, however, as bidden. Her father, who was seated at his writing-table, whih was piled up with account-books did not greatly differ in appearance from what he was when we last saw h'lii twenty years ago. His frame had grown more ma^«ive, and a.quired,a slight stoop, but he wan still a young lH>werful-looking niai.. and certainly did not appear a day more than his age of forty-two. l"he eyes. howe. er. .so long as no one was looking at them, had contracted a concentrated stare, as though I bey were eternally gazing at .some otiject in »{)tice. and this appear- ance was renderi'd the more marked by an apparently permanent pm-kering of the skin of the forehead. The mo- ment, honvever. that they came under the fire of anybody else's optics, and. oddily enough more pajticularly these of his own daughter, the stare vanish- ed, and th^y grew shifty and uncer- tain to a cAirious degree. Philip wa.^ emidoyed in adding up something when bis daughter entered, and he motioned to her to .sit down. She dill so, and fixed her great gray ees on him with some curiosity. The effect was reniarkal>le ; her father fid- geted, made a mistake in his calcula- tions, glanced all round the room with his shifty eyes. ob. how changed from tboKe l>oId black orlis with which Maria Lee fell in love four-and-twenty years agol and finally threw down his pen Iwith an exclamation that would have shivked .\ngela bad she understood it. "How often .Angela, have I asked you not to .stare me out ot coun- tenance! it is a most unladylike trick of yours." .She blushed painfully "' ''eg your pa.rdon: I forgot. I will look out of the window." "Don't be a fool; look like other peo- ple. Now I want to .sjwak to you. In the first place. I find that tbe bouite- hold expenditure for the last year was throe hundred and fifty jiounds. That is more than I can afford; it mu.'»t not exceed 'hree bundled this year." "I will do my liest to keep the ex- iwnses down, father; but I can as- assuro you that there is no money wasted now." Then, came a pause, which, after humming and hawing a little. Philip wa.s the first I.d break. "Do you know that 1 .saw your ii i sin George yesterday? He Is back at last at Islewortb." "Yes. Pigott told me that he had come. He h.is lieen away a long tvhile." "When did you la.^t .see him" "When I was al lut ih rt^en. 1 be- lieve; before he !o t the eletior and went away." "He has been down here .several times since then. I wonder that you dt.' not see him" "I always d;silke>l hiui. and kept out of his way." "Gad. you can't dislike him more than I do; but I keep good t„8„da with bim for all that, and you ,^^^^3^ do the same. Now. look here. Angola will you promise to keep u sei-reU" "Yes, father, ii you wiah it." "Well. then. I appear to be a poor man. don't I? And remember," bo added, hastily, "that with household expenses I am poor; but as a matter of fact"â€" and here be sunk bis voice, and glanced suspiciously round â€" "I am worth at this moment nearly one hundred and fifty thousand pounds in hard cash." "That is six thousand pounds a year at four per cent.," commented Angela, without a moment's hei^ita- tii-n. ' FIVE HOYAL DAUGHTERS. Aeepilua sr a Moral aatf lem^rrue F.<lar«tlati Ho,: 6rati;TlnK. *^ muat be thoroughly acquainted tt'tUi tlie Uistary of the iaat sixty yeare to * ahla to form an idea of the oer- â- onal mfluanoe which Queen Victoria has exareieel ower the affairs ot Eng- land and Euroqpe while there is not one among the four hundred milliona inhabitants of the Britiah Empire who does not look upon her gracious Ma- jesty as a mother without a rival m Then I rettl'y think you might j the art of bringing up heifi cbUdreu. put a flue int,> the old greenhoiue and. The sons of George III., and espe- allow a shUling a week to Mjs. Jakes' 'ciaily Um Duke of Kent, Queen Vlo- "'"Cufrse Mrs. Jakes' mother! Nol»,ly ^''^'^ ^^the^, had left such deplorable but a woman would have interrupted souvenirs behind them, that tbe prla- with such nonsense. Listen. You cipal object of Prinoe Albert and tbe must have beard how I wa-s disinherit- young Queen was to rear their chil- ed oa account of my marriage with ; d^^ so aa to reseimhle their grandun- your mother, and tbe Islewortb e»- ' . , â- ,, j.u â- _ j r.n.^^ tates left to your cousin George, and "'"^ ^<' ""l-^-'aHy their grand father, how, with a refined ingenuity, he was »" '''tie as possible. It might be re- garded SLs an exaggei-ation to state that the young royal couple were perfectly BUci'eaBfuI in the case of their four male children, yet the Prince of Wales and his brothera have never openly scan- daiiioed SCnglisb prciiriety. On the forbidden to bequewth them baik to me or to my children. But mark thus, ha is not forbidden to sell them to me ; no doubt the old man never dreamed that I :ihould have th" money to buy them; but you see I have al- mr>f.t enough "How did you get so much money?" other hand the system of education Get it! First, I took the old pla(» , applied to the five daughters has leeii my grandfather bought, and sold it. < ... .,_ ,â„¢ u » â„¢ii I had no right to doit, but I could not ; f"â„¢ Kmtifymg. They have not all aford to have so much capital lying , '<ufille<i their earthly mitsion with aa idle. It fet.ched nearly five thousand equal amount of succeos. but not one pounds. With this I speculated sue- i of tJiem has been as insignificant oa cessfully. In^ two years I had eighteen j nj^jQ^^ woman. The dream of the rojral household thousand. Tbe eighteen thousand I I iAvested in a fourth share in a coal- ; mine, when money was scarce and coals cheap. Coals rose enormously ju,st then, and In five years' time I .sold my share to the co-holders for eighty-two tbonuMind, in addition to twenty-one thousand received by way of Interest. Since then I have not spe- was to train the young prluceases who were de.stined to reign over foreign countries in such a manner as to make th-r-m UK'ful auxiliiudea to the moilertki monaix)hi<al iileo. The young pover- eign. not yet of age, at the time of her eldest daughter's birth, trace<l the fol- lowing outlines of a policy to l>e fol- culated for fear my luck should desert , i<,„.^ ^y the preceptors charired with me. I have simply allo^ved the money | the religious instruction of her daugh- to accumulate on money and other m- , ters with a foresight which was very vestments, and bided my time, for I i rare to one of her age: have sworn to have tbise estates back j "Tea-.-h them." she writes, "to ro- before I die. It is for this cause that epect Hod and religion. I desire that f have toiled and thought and screwed ' they should be inwued with a senti- and l)een cut by the whole neighlior hood for twenty years ; Imt now I think, with your help, my time is com- ing" "With my help. What is it that you wish me to do?" "Li.sten" answered her father, ner- vously tapping bis pendl on tbe ac- ment of love and not fear, for our Heavenly Father. Death and the fu- ture life must not lie iresentotl in teiv- rifying colours to them, and I do not wi^ foir the present that they should be taught the differen.'e between the various Christian sects." In this luric'iis .ioi-umient are betray- e<l the matrimonial pre-occupatlon.s of count book before him. "(Jeorge is not j the mother of a family who is tijiuk- very fond of Isleworthâ€" in fact, he rather dislikes It; hut like all the Caresfoots he does not care almut parting with landed property, and. though we appear to lie good friends, he bat.es me too much ever to con.sent. uoder ordinary circumstances, to .sell it to me. It is to'yim I look to over- cr>nie that ohjectioa." "If How?" "You are a woman, and ask me how you should get tbe blind side of a man!" "I do Dot in the least understand you." Philip .smiled incredulously. "Thrn I «u;>fioee I must explain. If you ever take tbe trouble to look at yourself in the gloss, you will proba- bly see that Nature has lieen very kind to you in the matter of good looks: nor are you by any means de- ficient In brains. Your cousin George i svery fond of a pretty woman, and, tx> iw i)laia. what I want you to do is t;> make lue of your advantages to of your advantages to get him under your thuml> and persuade him into selling the profjerty." "Oh! father how can yon?" eja'-u- lated Angela, in an agony of shame. "'^"olu Mint. T don't want you to marry him: I only want you to make [artist? a f<>oI of him. .Surely. Iieing of the ' sex ytni are. you won't find that an uncongenial occupation." .\ngela's blushes had given way to imllor now. and she an.swered with cold contempt : "I dfn't think you quite understand what a girl feeLs â€" at least, what I tef\. for 1 know no other girls. Per- hain it would lie useless for me to try to explain. I had rather go blind than use my eyas for such a -haiueful pur- pose." "Angela." .said her father, with as much temper an he ever showed now, "let nie tell you that vou are a silly fool : you are more, you are an ini:um- bance. "Your birth,'" be added bitter- ly, "roblied me of your mother, nad the fact of your being a girl deprived our branch of the family of their rights. Now that 'on have grown up. you pre- fer to gratify your whims rather thah help me to realize the o ije t of my life by a simide course of action that could do no one :'iiy hariu. I never asked you to commit yourself in any way. Well, well, it is what I must expect. \\ e have not seen much of ea<:h other heretofore, and perhaps the less we meet in the future the better." "You have no right to talk to me .so." she an.swered with flashing eyes, "though I am your daughter, and it is <»owardly to reproach me with my birth, uiy .sex. and my dependence. .\m T res|)onsililp for any of these things? But I will not burden you long. And OS ti> what you wanted nie to do. and i tihnk such a little of, I ask *?ou, is it what my poor m.>ther would have wlsh- eH her ilaM,;hter " Here I'hilin abruptly rose and left the room nnd the bou.se. (To Be Coniinued.) ing of the establishment of her daugh- ters while they are still in the crallo. and conimaudin^ that tiiey ahou.d tie broiight up in a Prt'testaiitiaai vaguo enough to permit of their b<>lng -on- verted to the religioin ot their husbands. From tbe most tender age the prin- cesses of the royai house of England! learned that their first duty was to identify themsal\es as much as pos- sible with usei'ui. so.iul. philaothropi- la! works, an. I to a.-quin; a aufficiently extended education to enable them to taki- part in t'le inte'lev-tual and artis- tics movements of the day. At tbe age of thirteen the Priuceta Victoria, w-lio wa.s aiterward to be- ooiM* the Hjnpref* !â- rwleirick per- formed moiit uunfideut.al dutiee for Prin-e AUxTt On the day of hec ipa'r'aire even the preparations for which bad bad little of romance in thei.i. Vrincf Albert, pix>ud ot his daughter, whooe education he had hiniM^ll superintended, remarked to his son-in-law : "You will perceive each day that your wife has a chilu's ueart and a man's head. ' What wa-* the ""ate reserved for this wonderfully endowed Driuoes«, who astonished Lord Clarendon with the surety of her pditical coup d'oeil. and who at the shiio t:ine was no mean A mo ancholy remark falling from Uier lip \\'-ieii as tbe wiilow of the Kmperor I'raJerick, she was visit- ing the exhilitim of the ^Stuarts in the new gallery in Loudon, might per- haps ix* considered as the refiume of this, career, opening under such bril- liant aiis) ii'^'H aiiil cros.sed by so many deceptions, -•stopping bofo-e the picture of Mary Stuart. Quee*-. » ictoria's eldest dtalugihiaeir invplur't.triiy exclaimed: T am happy tho^ thie day heis paas- eid flotr cuttink off q<ueen's heads. If I haH lived at that time I should have lal my thn-at cut wveral times dur- ing th» la«t few utonttis." With loES startling faculties and less universal aptitudes but with mora rweetnesN of disposition, the Princes* .'Vlice attempted to play the same role at Parmstait that her eider sister wa>s plowing at Berlin. The letters which Queen Victoria's second daugh- i»r. then the Grand Duchess of Hesse, a«ddr«ssed to ber mother, revealed a i-einarkable political turn of mind, an e.\viiiisite 8ca.sil.iiity and a iwrfect passion for works of philanthropy. Notwithstandin); her zeal, her ardor in going to the aid of the unfortunate, thie Grand Duoheee .Vlice whose memory m revered in England, never liecame popular in the land ot her adoption. Unligbbened by the experience of the two elder, the three younger daughters of Queen Victoria, wei-e content to uiai ry in Kngland. The I'rince.-e Uelen wlv> wiedded the head of the younger branch of the house of .Schleswig-Hol- .stein. consw'ratoil herself to works of .siK'ial charity. There is not a biLsior woman iu the three kingdom.s to-<iay. The Princees Ijouise who married WANTS VS. NEEDS. Little Dotâ€" Oh, mamma, the organ grinder's monkey is at the window, an' be has « liitio round bo.\ in his hand. Mammaâ€" Well, my pet. what do you Ibink he wants ? Little Dot, after a glance at the organ-griiiilorâ€" t guess he wants to borrow some soap. THE PRIZE- WINNER. Tbe autumn girl who gathers leaves. Won't bit if. we surmise. Like the autumn girl who stays at home And turns out pumpkin pies. thf eldest eon of the Duke of Argyll, Is as much interested in artistic .so- cieties as her sister. the Prin ess Helen i- in philaiithropi' works. I'he Ma'chione^a of Lome does not alone en â- .â-ºuiage fine arts, she preaches by exa:iiple. She is ime of Thomyoroftia most l)rilliant pupils, she is the .sculp- tor of the Queen's statue which stands in Kensington garden. S4ie is the most amiable and oouLented of all the royal prinoeesea. CERTAIN POISONOCIS FLOWERS. As BO many Siilods are now made" from flowers even children have takea to eatingi buttercups, and. as a result, a small iKiy at l*ittaburg died a few days ago. Thei poisonous flowers are buttercups, celandine, wood anemone, d.affodils, narcissus, lily, snowdrop, jon- quil, wild hyacinth, monk's hood, fox- glove, nightshade, brieny, mezerone and ban bane. .•"»ie<-<i;w*««l'«i«wj«,.