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 •I i^- .. t t c • A i ^f f m Tbe Song of the School With heavy and acbin? hi Witli wea^ but aleeple|iRbi A school gin sat iq her iMu And thB« gave T^rfcfCtaner It's stndybjr daysUd And it's study liiy nig! Till a blur comes over And my brain ae(^4s â- â-  ' ' ' i y-^^j-" V' The studies are piBpd 8d»lugh '»«/ That the weight Is breSktiis fne down I wish. I had wings, and could fly Al^y from the school and the town. Ra BtgiT and ^t«dy a t oohooU â€" â-  And it's study and study up here. And I shudder beneath the rule That awaits the failure I fear. All day and all night is my head With fi^rures and iatHmofipnaeei, And at last when I crawl into bed They baiuit me and rob me of rest. It's oh, for a romp and a run, A game with a hoop or a ball And it's oh. to be out in the sun. Away from percentage and all Perhaps I may marry some day. If I ever get through with my life, And what will my husband say To a nervous and fidgety wife It's study by day and by night. And it's study by night and by day. Oh, surely it cannot be right To study and never to play. MY COUSIN ALICK. There were three little girls living iu the bite eld house at Clipstone, of whom I was the oldest and plainest. Our parents were well-to-do people, and owned the pretty old place in which we had all I een born and brought up. When cousin Alick came down to spend a month with us before going to In- dia, I was just twelve years old, a slim, darli, quiet girl, old beyond my age in manner and feeling, and very proud was I of his friendship for me and preference for my society. It was in Summer time, and in the evenings I would often be sitting in the garden with my lesaon-books while my elders were at dinner and after rr other had gone to the drawing-room, or to the nursery, and father fallen aleep over his cigar, Alick would step out of the window and come over the lawn to me, and the cloud on his brow â€" for he nearly always looked moody at that time, perhaps even what might be called sullenâ€" lifted a little at the sight of my nleasure at seeing him, for 1 was dearly fond of this big cousin of m ne. He was very kind to me iu spite of the evident weight on bis spirits he would sit by my side and help mo with my lessons, explaining the hard words that I could not understand, and telling me many little things which I was not required to know, but which all helj cd to fix the subject iu my mind. I think oiir governess must have been surprised at my lapid prfit'iess about this time this I certainly kuuw, that not one word of cousin Alick's wa;- e .-er forgot- ten by me â€" each one lives ii. -jhly in my n.emory to this day. He was, as I have said, v-jr; 'oomy aad often absent-min:cd, and from inadvertent remarks dropped now and then by my pa- rents in my heating I dimly understood that he was in trouble with his own family, and that was why he had come to t.tay at liis uncle's till his ship sailed. -He had just returned from Ox ord I knew, and tliere were whispers of dtbts and of being "pluck- ed "'â€"whatever that might be â€" and 1 ga- thered that he was in disgrace with his la- ther, our uncle, Alexander Blair, who was considered a stern and rigorous man. W e childrtn, Valerie and I- -Nina was little more than a baby â€" stood in great awe of him, and I loved and pitied Alick only the more when I heard of these thinga. Our fa- ther had got him this post in India to which he was going out, but I don't thiuk he had any great hopes of his nephew, foi I hoard him say to my mother one day "Alick was a clever fellow enough, but there was not a bit of industry or application about him." I remember liim well as he was then, even thoush I have seen so much of him since, and he is so altered. He was twenty- one years old, a tall, dark, lean youth, with a bare sallow face and resentful-lool^ing black eyes. I suppose he was wliat would be called very "fresh" or "raw," but I was only a child, and I loved him dearly, and thought him handsome, perfect, heroic. I know he was sulky and bad-tempered, the fault cf his father, who snubbed and bullied the naturally high-spirited lad until all his good qualities were hidden under the bad passions which his severity brought uppermost. iJuiing that time of Lis stay zt our liousa I saw a great deal of my cousin. There was no other \-isitor, and he did not care lor the society of children snch as Valerip and Nina â€" they wtre too babjiih, too fall of noisy play, though Valerie was a lieauli'v.l child, just nine years old, fair and goldc^n- haired, laughing and witching, admired bj' evei-y one except, perhaps, Aiijk. who was not one of an ai^e to care for cbildr n, and who liked me because 1 was grave antf 'oT3 beyond my years, and'could s3mpatluze, in some degree, with his vrgue regrets and hope*. I loved my cousin iu Ihoso days â€" words axe powerless to tell how dtarly 1 Even now, -vvhen I see hini in the nobility of his perfect manhoed, the hopes of his boy- hood realised, the height of his^aspirations attained, I still look ba«k with yearning tenderness to the raw lad who taught me, unconsciously the meaning of the word "love." Th« day of his departored came at last. g wi tac steps, hand to me, not lii?htly, smilmglXbut with a very grave and even sorrowj^l raoe:- He was gone then, and I could nol"^Wjr shedtlii^a-few t arsâ€" I WW only a-child^, after all. Valerie, who ran out of her hid- ing place when sjia bad made Sure he w«s gone, finding mei crying, laughed and pall- ed my hair and persecuted me in her pretty, t^ing, charming' w'ay, B'ut I cotild'not bear it then. I wentawayfrom her up stairs; and cri^ until had no inore tears to shed^ vShe tima padicu on very(}ui«tljrand even- ly af t€ r Cousin Alick was gone. I was ful- ly occupied with school-room duties, atd Valerie ought to have been also, but no"' one could make her do more than she chose. She was â€" cf her own accordâ€" a little du:.Qe,. but such a beautiful, bewitching dunce, rio one knew how to find fault with licr. We all loved her so dearly we cjuld not bear to scold her. My another was very well satis- fied with niy attainment?. 1 bad good abili- ties, aad liad iraJe use of tbcm, l)ut nothing could ik^ake me pretty, like- our Valerie. I don't rii ink 1 wa' plamin thoss days. I was tall and blender, with dark hair and a, pale face, and large, grave, dark eyes, but there was no brilliancy, no charm about me, such as a'y beaut ful sec ud sister pos- se sed. We heard a little of Alick. Ho did not write \ery often, and when he did I did not see his letters, or know mucli-^ what they containeil. T^re' \fa3; gi««t hard- ships and privations; to ,le endttEO^ in his rough life out there, but father said they Wiuld do him good, and teach him what work was. I do not think he ever comp'aifi' cd of them â€"dear Alick At seventeen I went to my first ball. Oh, ho IV Valerie envied me! She staid iu my room all ths while Simmons was dressing me, tumi-'g over my things and admiring them, and wishing she were iu my place. I joined heartily in her wish, for 1 did not care to go. Mother said it was time I /be- gan to go into sosiety. but 1 felt I should never care for it. Valerie could not under- stand me, fche thought me so odd, and told me so, laughing, and showing her little, pearly teeth, while she stood by the toilet table and tried on my bracelets, and flut- tered my fan, and made believe she was being asked to daucf, and pleased herself with many a pretty pretense. Already, at fourteen, she was :is tall as I, and very wo- mvmly-looking, Mother began to desx)air of keeping her in the school-room for three years longer, and yet it seemed necessary, she knew xarctly anything, and frankly admitted her ignorance. But she smil d so enchantingly over her confession, and spoke £0 sweetly, that the people only lau h'jd, and thought her the more charming. I enjoyed that first ball of mine very well â€" betttr, indeed, than i had expended, i received a tair noitat of atte!£tifl(n, and had no lack of parmerS, Valerife wa^ last asleep in bed, of course, whqii we got home, but the next morning she waylaid Sim- mons as she was carrying a cup of tea to my room, and brought it in herself. I had met no liandsome love-, no hero of romance, no one â€" though I did not say this aloud^to compare with the liero of my childhood, poor dear Cousin Alick. Valerie was rather disappointed at my commonplace experi- ences, but her lovely face flushed and glow- ed with interest as I described the glitter- ing ball-roowi. the entrancing music, the lights, the brilliant crowds, the excitement of it al), which I knew she could appreciate so much better than I. " How shall I wait three whole years?" she cried, clasping her hands together, 'and I smiled as I answered 'Time enough j-et, Valerie and, who knows? â€" you are so tall and wo r.anly for your years, you might not have to wait so long, perhaps, if only you would try to study a little more, dear." She a id she would really be more indus- trious, and promised to practice two hours every day â€" a promise broken almost as soon as uttered â€" ii I would plead with mother for her, which I â- Â« as very wiUing to do, for I knew her appearance would cause a sensa- tion in our circle, and I thought that when mother bad such a beautiful daughter to take about with her she would think less of me, and perhaps let me go back to the quiet home-life which i always preferred. Our mother was most affec ionate and devoted â€" a sweet woman, but ambitious too, for her children, and I could see she wished me to marry well, though no such wordswcre ever uttered in my presence.. But I knew, too, that all my heart was taken up with my childhood's love, and I dreaded her natural Surpriie atlny indifference to fliocayeties which are generally so fascinatin^tifo youa^ girl just out. 'She put ifaTHdowu, nowever. to my natural quietness ana reserve, aaul When I/refused my. Sist ofEw'o||,inarriage she The dog-cart waite;! ii th0iic(}r,. and fath«f i ^-tb^i and he were all ready t».a;axt, .Patber w^asrthirl going to see him on boai'd Iiis. shfp â€" Uncle â-  Alexander wonW nof have afSJrthing to do with him, not ereoaomnch as to wiih him' good-byo. Valerie had run away laughing ai^.d hid-^ ing her face wTie her mother told hel- to^o • and kis? Cottsi n Aliek;' f«f ilie weuld apt see him again for a very long viule, but he did not eare for thatâ€"he was not tUin'Eing of her, little spoiled child. He was very pale, I remcmloer tliat, and when mother drew him aside in the hall and whispered in his ear he flashed red and then went paler than before. Bnt he kiss- ed mother again and muttered something that sounded like "I will try." He came to me then and kissed me several times vary ttnderly. "Good-bye, dear little Ruth," he said; "don't lorget Cousin Alick â€" be .vill noi; for- get you. " was notiangr^, for |ven^ w"as wliat the worfd Wi u* Sh£MSl-^ m M^i wifn irfe, f temft.^ y man whom I could not D«A-'if»«ther r She 'obfcld heart was already! ooe«rpied,and4k vs notJli^ ' me to speak, bat i ktiptd that at sime tMfe** in the future she might kiwvtte tri^ through other lips. Jjor he did care foE»p» We had been though it 'call a good one. sympathizing ever to marry a loye and hi 5t telltha parting wrtti Ate- than any 'one the. Of courie, tSIri was a wide difference between us. He'-^Ss a man even then, if only K. very yionng^dn*; while I wa»a mere efasld$ =Hb .miyhtnujrry â-  out t^eieâ€" it was as likely as notâ€" |b«fc fee ' ha/i not done so as yet, and until that^Hmei. to pass I would ^tiiloy myself .^p loterWAv Father had not mucli omnion ofTiiB doiAnJ seerneil to think lis silepce.^ that if he had anytiiinggood self he would t^: lit. But,-when i. was ijin« teen. Uncle Alexandei- di«d, i^viag all bia property to Alick, with a loving message of farewell and forgiveness, for be relented at the last^ Cousin Alick ,wroi« a long letter then to father and motherâ€" the first of his that 1 ever sawâ€" such a mauly, noble lettr I knew when I read it that 1 had not been taken in him â€" that he 's best love. It held himself. He had all these yi sure, workiuj himself quittTiti I relations, only he' he had achieved jen Uncle Alex he conld siMfjafKin an ^ndeoendent man. TBut WfatWjr's wealth- far from It. He was ^Snb^lrfkd to see how fully Uncle Alexander ^reoforgiven him, and was comforted inex- proooibly by htg â- dyiag- m aasa g e.â€" Ha^apoke so kindly and regretfully of his father, as if he hfad-ney«r baen harah toiiin â€" if he bad begn AsAeodera father, to iJm is injfqw» was to me. I loved him a thousand times â-  itSJteaearty *?; ef rstMsg his^ind- Borrow ful, maaly words. Mother cried over the.-n, andJattoNioughcd and got behind his news^ ')Sa£Br, wKn* I crept out iu the garden tq fbmk. liad nothing to regset, as t|iej^ had., I £kd never mbj tidged him, never be- lieved him Sanythmg batJ^^od, aad true, and honest. ^ylieartwa8i£ll.0f jof that sum- juer morning. .»' After that we alt began to expect him home. Now^here was A Ixome and a place lor him in hia own ^:ountry,: we did i-ot s.e w3ay he should stay out in India, spend ng his besty^rs among strangers. He diduoc come; however, and when I att ined my majority he was still absent. 'alerie was eighteen thenâ€" tho^loveliesr girl in the »untry, every one saiB, and a «f nSbje cpqu^tp, thou^ii jbi ne\T»r really meant to hurt' any one. I tmBk mother ex- pected great things for her, but if she had fotrdme difficult to please, atoe now dia- covered that V^alerie was a thousand times more so, for she had so many lovers to choose b tween s nd I had but a few. High and low. rich and poor, eligible and ineligi- ble, all flocked to my sister's feet a d laid their hearts down before her, not to but spumed in haughty disdain â€"that was not oar Valerie's A*ayâ€"iiut to be smiled at and 'coquetted with and gently put aside with a few winning words that sent them away more madly in love with her than ever, and ready to forgive her anything. But at last, when mother was trving to count up the number of lovirs she had re- jected^ and was getting really vexed at her caprice, there came one who seemed to find favor even in her crit cal eyes. He was a young clergyman named Carus Wyckham, well connected, and in every way desirable, »but we thought it a strange choice for our laughing, bright-spirited Valerie to make. He was a young, grave man, with a serious, fair face, and pale golden hair brushed a- way from his forehead in smooth, shining waves. He was not handsome â€" not even good-lQoking â€" but there was sometrdug saintlyj even angelic, in his face. He had a ^splendid 'oice, full and sonorous, like the 'richest deepest notes of an orgaii.-.and when he preached 1 used tJ. think the txiauty of his toaes wouldhave lent power afid gran- dear to the nicst commonplace sermon. But his sermons w=ere not cdmiroaplace, for he was not a commonplace man. TJiey were l:ke himsslf â€" deep, end grave, aud tender, striking far intotiio hearts .of th people. I could not tell whether Va-lerie really Iqv^liim alie cartainl^ liked apd respect- ed'liiiii â€" e-very onedid that-^and hispatieace with her changing njoods and his self deny- ing love for her were wonderful to behold. I think she tried him very much at times with her wilfulness and frivolity, but he soon began-to gain an utifencQ ovor Iier s' e seemed to like to be with him ' 'it rested her," she would saj% smilingly, as they walked off to the garden to sit under the trees and read or talk. For tliey talked to- gether a great deal, and he was beginning to teach her that there are higher and bf tter thing to live for than balls and garden- parties, dressing, and coquetting. They were not to be married for two years, tor she was only eighteen, and father and mother thought her too young to marry. And all this time I had remained true to the -secret love of bygone days, while my mother wondered and sometimes worried about me, and talked me over with my father. This I knoWi becr.nse on one oc- casion I heard him answer " Let her alone my dear there's time enough yet. Ruth will find her heart some day" We had one beautiful pho ograph of Cousin Alick, which he had sent to us soon a£|etthe death of his father. I could scarce- lybelieve my i yes phen V saw the chau^fi ttiat the years bad miadd to him. He left us a lon^, lean, niboly-looking youth â€" here was a fine; brcaij-oheated, handsome man, with a bcdd, brtnzed. iace,',^fniling brilliant e; es, ^d an air of ,4wh i^d daring about him w;hTt*.|^iiy ^k iny motlier's htart bv sfiK^. tr'^^:,;- ;^ /â-  " I*«mildaiot' lake the Jl}rftograph away, be- cause ib-waftTfot ming^ahdit would have b^e^ missed, for motiTef was always showing ^aw nephew, ilick BlMu," to sotne one cr other,' but when they were all out of the way, and I thdugW; my^^iesafe,' I used, to steal into the drawing-room and turn over the pages of the alburn in which Jjia picture was until I came to the beloved face, and there wo^ll my eyes dwejl long and tenderly, But still Ke did not cdme home, and when n] a wil Xt^ TbS3? vSS^J wLe I was 22 visit to It had one ofcyjtouM. go Hafci«fe«ot04wa^aurft^ 'S^^'ftSftrd ff^d ^^:^^t nither 3a*l^h Vritihg fb nciAboUtlmQ,. tellfa^'Jer .that aM did not kaow^wliatt t^naakeblwa. and o^'aunt h^ e be a ^0 maf 'e hadbeen very fondof eachother d«ii|. ^A»^*..^^Hjg to^beVaUow^ .^ Vlv able to remove my a Cxp â- Catti cifCivkcries. '• ' v:£lBn»Fiea shoaW never- be iJxposed to oli^hte utma: indoors ot out, nor :should iA^faangmitlie sun aa.a rule. If (ut of door* thdy i«quipe a warm, nky^ shel made o: or ftbMcuits _. Tf4.u"u- 3 ' apeftontoea-. If the birds are infested wifh^tes cover thetopoftije ca«e with a piece of white flaoinel at night, and early in th, mo»i.«.. take It off and shake over a hot stove r tiS' mites, instead of hidini ^.hout the cold wir^ ^et^en 1865and^lS75 thfe" growth ot wealth in the United Kio^ ^ff ,^' Sf rate of 200,000,000 a year, dH probably the rate in the United Stateswas not muca less -EVSriif^-asStiiCe fmrtbeTSt^'Vfgmwth since 1875 has slackened, there can be no d/abt[aJ; all that ths accumulation of wealt^ has contfnued at a very rapid rate, not only ^^ heig. atJb«ype. bu$Jfl«a| the more adya^^^ countries of the woriaT And some portldn ' of this annually »fcv*d wealth must have been investedin'Stock Exchange securities. The Wgerjpfcrt, no ,*)ftljt, went *» extend 'ftushie^a to iinprov« !*»*; baild houses to construct publio works, and £9,^onjL.but some portion of it^Waa invested m btock- Excl-ange securities. And the steady in- vestment of new wealth year ^fter year hSp' hid a great efl'ect'upon the prices'-bf Beour- jties. WhUe, as we have seen above,, there has been a great dimniution in the debt oi the United States and of the United King- dom, there has been in, aootber way a dim- inuti n in the seouritie held in the richer countries; owing to the aecunfiulation of wealth in the power one?. For exampft, until lately the bonds represehtihg the debt of Italy were held chiefly abroad, and more particularly in France. It ie.said,, however, that the growth of wealth iHtltaly of late years has b';cn such tha*th« Italian people have been able to buy from foreigners a large po;tion of the Italian bonds held abroad. This has had thg necessary effect of diminishing the supply of securities in England, France, and Holland, where the Italian bonds were chiefly held. And, in a ie^s degree the growth of wealth in other backward countries has been acting in the same way, Each country invests by prefer- ence in its own securities and a« the wealth of each country increap«s, the supply of foreign bdnds in the more advanced coun- tries diminishes. Thus the permanent ten- dency ia toward a rise in the prices of Stock Exchange securities. This tendency must naturally continue to gain force, though it may be checked every now and then, until, from some cause or other, there is a large creation of new first-class securities. A war, lor example, involving several great Europ- ern countries, would lead to large loans â€" that is, to the creation of new Stock Ex- change securities of thie first-class â€" ^and would thus tend to lower prices while ' the destruction of wealth by the war would lessen the growth of wealth, and world also have a tendency to lower prices. â€" Saturday Review. What a Spider Did. Things are constantly ooouir^ng t';iat cause the public to look with wonder and amazement, and it is supposed by miny that no such thing ever occurred before, but very frequently such impression3 are erroneous. Some weeks ago a spider was found Ui der the settee iu Esquire E ^binson's office, with a snake entwined in its web. Many thought it a most remarkable feat for the spider to accomplish. Well, it was, but spiders in years past have shown just as much ingen- uity. We fin 1 in the Eastern Gazette of 1823 the following statement, which was copied from the Connecticut Mirror, a statei nitnt very similar to tbdt of Esquire Robin- son's snat.e One day last week the workmen in Mr. Peck's macl ine factory, in Southington, dis- covered under one of the work benches a black snake, of the white throat species and about six inches long, suspended by the web of a spider. The spider was of the common ' house sort and not uncommonly large. When first discovered the little insect id raised his victim about half a foot f ron. the floor and had him hung by. a single thread. The ingenuity and power of "the spider was truly wonderful. Passing rapidly down the line lie would fasten his cordage around the neck of th- snake, paas back to his own nest on tiie un4er suiface oftjie bench, then going again down' " cast a hitch " around the tail and returning to 1^ nest would avail hinnelf of- the co«*6rtid»s of the snake, alteri»^lj? hangiiig up his lines so as to bring hil^fne nearer home. In this man- B(Br continued fals k^or *i«til f vening, leaving the saake' dilute, 'but*^© oomp etely exhausted (xnd secured to be safe for the night. In the morning he was dead. Easton Gazette. i\ ^•,CToteat^[ttap Trees. f. Tpe High, Comissioner of Cjprus atlrib- nt^ vtftcfeitt ooTPfflvdrqighlMdlbpusts. to ih« vicii\^4 14f#ufetim K)f ifelf ii^tP. As the woods disappeared, so did the soil that Bereaford, a dinn«r of "The boa.,^ l^-ery large affai, Kjer than any ^, t thf^ht it would be â-  ' " bly larger ^, ns expected. -^ ^^,^tt map* gallantly, and if niote practised in the useof ti and had also fired their tmootb doctors' list woul I have bten gre ened. Their round shot ^(,, .j:i;wcheted ov«c the wai^r ed the British in some way, whe stuck to their heavy guns aud t^ flevtoVerthe ships. The heavv ton guns of the "Inflexible" hsd q in tho fort J, makin); t, chalk pits. Wherever th( re was like a magazine for the British Vo sight on the effect of theiV'fir^ ^. ordinary. The conduct _,of th"e j was astonishing, and th«y stuck guna fpr seven luiurs^, or until thev al)led and to give an idea of ^, ' th^y ".wvfi he wcmid explain lio^ij was t disablea gun. Where i -rtl "wqll built as Fort Ada' or Fort^. -ghofwent ijito the earch b low jij^ "effect was nil,, while if a shot wenj the gun it hurt nobody, tin J ilm/;i a gun became almost like placHij; the gun from a distance of l,20o" it was necessary tp hit tho gua ti' Lord Charles ^!so referred to ti. rendered by the landing 'parties. F, 12tiito the I6th of July ;^70 men miles of lines against an army r.f thousand men, with a.mobotTi hind in thecity. He could say ti sixty blue jackets and sevent»Dii ing as police there was not on^- his clothes during those four dan describing Captain Fishers Irou;, and the good service it liaJ k Charles Bieresford gave antiscw nightly trips the blue jaijjK, ma front, as they said, "to ^^TArai per." "On Aug, 5, during the n anco, a blue jacket, who was sit; rail tiring at the enemy, was orde officer to come down and not e__ self. He remarked that he coc much better up there. Just thet went through his hat. "That close," was all he said, and almost: another struck him. He wa* wounded, but his only observa: messmate was, "Well, Jack, they the range." They had capital lui, where his comrades got up a stor; paid the B^ouins to come out them. Speaking of the lessons from the war, his lordship saiditv in ids opinion, that where loits were at all nearly equal forts v ships. The great value of iiia.;; liad also been shown. W itii the landing parties had cleared tit Alexandria and pievetited Aral and if they had been allowed mediately after the bon'.lcii might have dispersed tliecro.u: loot, have captured Ar-ilil, T and other leaders and saxc.i i:, the Uovernmeut had pio:r.!S;i; should land, and they vrcre b promise. *ke, w 4iig.ea] riBBg .eof^s id msr( covered the hills; that soil was washe I down to the plains, chokfed the rivei-8,aDd forpied malarious swamps, the hills became b ire ^rooka^ ificapable of growing a bla^lo^of voko- taticto, and 'Att locuet at! oni^:ibq» posses- sion of the barren ground, whi e the absence of tre^^ deprived the ejirtjij »f its annual v fertihfchig agent-^leaf 'mSuld. The same pro-ess IS going on upon the higher hills andSir ft. BidiWpk b.U(A-»itiLi no exaggerl' ation to say that Cypfu«.iaan.a.ctitical5toto '^a^hisiaccouBt, fjoKuw^d,, h^e^r, there IS reasoi^ ^IjMje flj^t it ikay yet be recover- ed. There-ari^distritts of this country ±oo J rbere tjieee n^piark^^y.be i^W'tered W â- j:l ^^'-^ ^re*4rti4 tor Putmtf ^aq»^ -K^*!!P£?°^ Rassian origin receivedf'tn' nn'r nf l?.',^""'?Pt['»g '^6 IL^e of the Gover- Slil'i^Uuteii^ ^^"-^ hisifeilow. brother was confined. During thebohffiS the prisoner was kUled. Mahmed waS^K pdlaged three Armenian vilSs viofeS^r th3 w-omea. killing the males^^^d c^^f £^^ru-t?a\^th:k^^^^^^^^^ and four more battali^S^d^alitl^' Bithss. sixty miles west of Van.haa^enW £mall-Poz in the Last Get:: The Sanitary Jouriuil, of July, contains" a v-aluable paper t;! Vail upon the prevalence of s;-.. Kilmarnock from 172S to 1704, te what appears to be a very accr.ra; of the deaths iu that place. "â- . appears that small-pox "was ep Kilmarnock evcry 4^ years, p: death rate nearly 20 times greis death rate under live years ot aj'e. greater than it now producs age at a death from smali-pox tci years â€" it is now nearly 20 years. population of Kilmarnock daring was4ibout 4,200. Of these about no fear of smallpox, for they ti had it, and many of them sho« in disfigurement, deafness, blii- The epidemics of small-pox occa a bind ef little children, les: hundred in number. Kachch: face this terrible danger before i: years old. One epidemic left tims for its successors. " One can barely imagine what been the feeli -gs of a modier rega fearful visitations. Even whec WdS free of the pestilence, tbert the constant foreboding of its all" coming, and when at last ti;t|| occurredâ€" when the (f^tor v^" and pronounced the disease to I* edpox â€" his words wouM b?liei' fence of death to somt incmb?' every family coutainiug littieo the news spread from house Vj' what ade.sp^ing clut .h woul.t prpss' OiT darling to her broa- Almighty G6d to command the angel to pass by her door -4" of a hundred and fifty years, oo* little conception of the real small-pax epidemic. "But the old parish register us to apprehend something o' ""I and lVed%«Pe to say thati' th» cintetSonfets had thei' will, ' many yeafs' beflaiain txporicncin? of the awful visitations which «â- â-  ilfti'dlif 'KiiihkTMock " t .AnWomaa 'B«soaes a Boy is ' Ai ai ;eci the e BEM^y P ai a ot A'^Viort time ago, Mrs. t;. thurpariitoWll, formerly a rcsi" kinHlt, â- a[flrtinguished herself ' afimir^bfe'tt^viBry. Mrs. passengerfe a steamer from " one ofjtlM^ortheni ports cfQ" ons aa^fHttle bo^ about io^[ to wiMfatitfae lady was much iOTTsAoarirthe accident occur' sadQeniufoh of the vessel. oeptiunofMri. Campbell ami 5"' wSeoi .^l thffi passcngei-s anJ dintuiP. I Without waiting for a life ^^'â-  ittg hAr^elf of any clothing. ' iug to the man at the wheel child's mother," Mrs. Camp»«. to the watepr, swam to the boy, up till both were rescued, tee iagbeto promptly stopped ana i ed. Neither the lady nor the i" j the worse for the immersio" ' Sydney Mormmj Heri'd- anC'