28, contained the information that, on the last voyage of the steamer Majestic, Martha Thurman would neither eat nor drink and spent her time in her stateroom praying, and honing a razor. She was immediately put under restraint as in a dangerous condition. Now none of these acts are in themselves reprehensible. People frequently do not feel like eating when on shipboard, and it is always commendable to pray. To hone a razor is certainly an innocent performance in itself; but by association of ideas Martha's performances became ominous. Why does Martha hone a razor when she has no beard? The fact that she accompanies the act by devotional exercises makes it all the more alarming. What is she going to do with the razor when it is honed? Under certain circumstances we associate a razor with throat-cutting-so Martha is put under restraint. We do not associate abstinence from food, razor-honing, and prayer, with a sound condition of mind in a beardless

woman.

There is a powerful scene in "Uncle Tom's Cabin" that turns on the association of ideas. Sambo brings Legree the lock of Eva's hair that he has taken from Uncle Tom. "A long shining curl of fair hair, which, like a living thing, twined itself around Legree's fingers. 'Damnation!' he screamed, in sudden passion, stamping on the floor, and pulling furiously at the hair as if it burned him. * * *

"And what was the matter with Legree? and what was there in a simple curl of fair hair, to appall that brutal man, familiar with every form of cruelty? * * *""

The writer then goes on to tell of Legree's wild wicked life; of the lovely Christian mother whose prayers he had spurned, and whose heart he had broken. "The next Legree heard of his mother, was when, one night, as he was carousing among drunken companions, a letter was put in his hands. He opened it, and a lock of long, curling hair fell

The letter told him his mother was dead, and that dying, she blessed and forgave him."

By the power of association of ideas, one lock of little Eva's fair hair had the whole of this bad man's past locked up within it a past that stung him like an adder and bit him like a serpent. To this evil man, the very thought of this mother and her dying love for him, was the keenest anguish.

So in the book of Revelation we are told that at the appearing of the glorious vision of the Christ, "they that pierced Him shall wail before Him." So "there is a dread, unhallowed necromancy of evil, that turns things sweetest and holiest into phantoms of horror and affright. That pale, loving mother, -her dying prayers, her forgiving love, -wrought in that heart of sin only as a damning sentence, bringing with it a fearful looking-for of judgment and fiery indignation."

What the Telescope Reveals.

DEEP in the caverns of the sky,

Beyond the reach of human eye, Roll millions of unnumbered stars. The strongest telescope unbars

The gates of distance; and a few
Are nearer brought to mortal view.
But still there float in boundless space,
Myriads of stars, whose beaming face
We may not look upon.

In man Whose merits we too lightly scan, We see but little good, because We seek for frailties, faults and flaws, Or give a careless, heartless glance, And deem him evil in advance. No noble impulses we trace Upon his unimpassioned face; But with the lens of charity, Encased in tender sympathy, Great excellences we discern, And virtues, though they dimly burn; Searching for merits, we may find, Without God's lens, the soul is blind!

gling between his thumb and finger.

The execution of so guilty an insect would doubtless not have been postponed an instant if former experiences had not made the children's ears quick to hear tiny insect voices. Now they bent down to listen to the faint piping of their small prisoner, who was exclaiming in its loudest tones: "Don't pull my wings so, you cruel children; they will be ruined. You cannot blame me, I am sure, for drinking when I was so thirsty, and why you should interfere is more than I know. Treat me as I deserve and perhaps I will tell you some things you ought to know, and if you will be reasonable I will show you my case of surgical instruments, so delicate they cannot possibly hurt any one, I am sure."

"They do, though," hastily corrected Harold, "and the hurt lasts long after you fly away."

"Well," hummed the mosquito, with growing confidence, "I should never imagine it; but since you spare my life I will try to avoid you in future. I must use my beautiful needles, though. Who ever heard of a mosquito promising to forego that pleasure? I really wish your clumsy eyes could see them. The sheath in which they are kept you can see, I suppose, but not how beautifully it is ornamented, nor the tiny silken hairs on my wings, and the pretty scales on my bodice you have no idea

of "Now if you had compound eyes like

mine, nearly covering your head, you might see some very wonderful things. My tongue is half as long as my body," boasted the proud little captive, saucily, "and I have no use for teeth like yours. You know nothing about me, for you probably never listened to a mosquito's song before. I suppose you don't know how I sing, either."

"How?" questioned the children, beginning to regard their impertinent insect prisoner with considerable awe.

"Well, my wings viorate fully three thousand times in a minute and make a humming accompaniment to my high

found in every country and climate, and invariably hungry, just as I am told boys are apt to be. Musicians should not be expected to be as mild in disposition as ordinary insects. We are not amiable, of course.

"Our cousin gnats are dancers. If you care to watch you can see them in aerial quadrilles and minuets almost any summer evening; they are so quick to see, and dreadfully nimble, that you will have to be careful how you approach them. Dear me! If I resembled them more I should never have had this humiliating experience of being caught. But I was enjoying my first drink, and forgot all about being discreet and cautious.

"Your hand tempts me now. Couldn't you hold it still and let me show you how I 'bite', as you call it? If you will just be quiet and let me get a goodsized drop the little liquid I inject to thin the blood before I draw it up will not be left to irritate your flesh, as it will if you drive me away before I finish the operation."

"I'll let you", Robert declared; "get the glass, somebody, and we'll see how Miss Doctor does it."

"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Florence, as she peeped at the greedy insect drawing forth a many-bladed lancet, "what a dreadful mouth and eyes. It has three pair of the longest legs and very pretty wings. Now it's growing bigger. Don't let it hurt you, Robby."

Florence was much distressed and the tiny surgeon did certainly look formidable when magnified.

"Does it hurt?" asked Harold, excitedly, viewing the novel sight with interest.

"No-yes, it does, too. Here, you shan't bite me nor anyone else."

Robert slapped with sudden impatience at his smarting palm and only a tiny blood stain showed where his little tormentor had been.

"I couldn't help it," he apologized, "mosquitoes always make me mad when they bite. It ought to have known better than to ask me; besides, I think

if I would let it drink all it wanted. Maybe," he added, hopefully, "in mosquito heaven it has nothing else to do and is enjoying itself now", and this soothing thought enabled the children to begin happily a search for new cloudpictures.

Just as they were getting over their sorrow a little they were surprised to see their intelligent little friend hovering near them once more, though very cautiously.

"You didn't get me that time," he laughed, shrilly. "I shall require bonds the next time I trust you with my life." And he skipped away, leaving the children rather glad he was still alive.

A Forest Tragedy.

HAS anything happened since we left?" said a returned city boarder, in a letter to a friend. This is the answer:

Yes, something has happened! Not here entirely,-elsewhere the tragedy begins: Away in the North woods, on a bright October morning, a beautiful daughter of the forest rose from her leafy couch; her slender neck was adorned with frost-jewels as she lifted. her innocent face toward the sunlight. Her large, wondering eyes saw no danger, and her sensitive ears caught only the sound of joyous notes of birds, the faint distant thunder of the partridge, the near rustle of leaves as rabbits and squirrels began their search for food.

"Dear, innocent creatures, I love you. all," she said: "you are my friends and I am yours, and we will enjoy this glorious Autumn day together." Then she carelessly nipped the tender twigs of beech and birch as she left the thicket that had been her protection in hours of rest. But the rising breeze brings to her keen scent the sure proof of danger afar-that distant, dismal half-moan is the baying of pursuing hounds. "But with all the help a proud master can give, their scent is not half so keen, their feet so swift, or power to endure a long journey equal to mine. I defy

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them! Let them come on!" she said, as she lightly bounded over fallen trees, woodland streams, grassy hillocks, or plunged through dense thickets and easily measured off with long, slender limbs league after league of distance. left behind. As easily and beautifully as a swift vessel cuts the wave, as securely and proudly as the hawk sails in the sky, she keeps on her course, the sound of pursuing foes lost in the distance. She gains a low ridge of open ground stretching toward the clear river, and the thick woodland beyond. Suddenly the sure scent of danger near comes to her nostrils; and she stops, looks, wonders an instant, then wheels. off to avoid the dangerous path; but a sharp sting of pain comes to her side,

a

sudden dizziness-a trembling, a crashing fall-follow closely the loud report of a deadly rifle, as a mighty, broad-belted hunter steps forth from his ambush.

With desperate energy she struggles to rise, and would drive her sinewy feet through his hunting-jacket, and into his breast; but he stands off and with deliberate aim sends a bullet through her brain. There she lies; so beautiful, so helpless, staining the glorious autumn leaves a deeper red; while above the deep azure shines the rejoicing sun. The noble river rolls on, with happy birds and the safety almost won, just beyond its banks.

Before the belated hounds can claim their little share of victory, the guide is called, the slain victim lifted to his shoulders, carried to his home, and thence with greater speed than her swift living feet could gain she comes to our railroad station. With long, bleeding neck hanging over the endboard of our stage wagon, she follows the course of the river, advertising with these beautiful large dead eyes and this bleeding neck the triumph of her conqueror until she reaches his home; and is hacked into small pieces and scattered to other homes where, let us hope, sweet human pity dwells.

Do the recreations we choose and love best, indicate character?

THE spirit of the parade appears to

be contagious, extending even to those who inhabit the world of waters. We have had, recently, suffragette processions, work-horse processions, Sunday-school parades, coronation parades, and now, in apparent emulation of man, we learn that the porpoises recently had a procession two miles long, in the waters of the Atlantic that surge along the shores of Asbury Park and Long Branch.

And why not? Have we not all read of schools of porpoises, that follow in the wake of vessels and have often been. seen and described by scholars viewing them from the decks above? Whether they are merely swimming-schools, or whether other arts are taught in their finny assemblies, we cannot well say. But doubtless there are lessons in hygiene and correct diet given to the young ones, by the more experienced, as they investigate the life-giving quality of the various foods that descend to them from the vessel's kitchen.

And we can fancy them practicing also those branches of sea-education mentioned by the Mock Turtle, in "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland": namely, Reeling, Writhing, and the four ground rules of Arithmetic, Ambition, Distraction, Uglification and Derision, besides Mystery, Seaography, Drawling, Stretching and Fainting in Coils, Laughing, and Grief.

Why should they not parade, on a holiday?

One of this particular school of porpoises was of an inquiring turn of mind, apparently for it rolled into shallow water just outside the bar, where numerous people were bathing. Being a

practical joker, as it would seem, it raised its head and suddenly emitted a harsh bark. “Oh, then and there was hurrying to and fro!" as women scrambled madly toward shore, not knowing what strange creature might be at their heels. Tripping, falling, regaining their feet, and again falling, rolling, hastening toward land by any motion that seemed quickest, with a continued barking sounding in their ears, they at last reached some vantage point whence they could look back and observe their pursuer (?). And as they saw that plump, playful porpoise roll again out to sea, they asked each other sheepishly, "Did he do it a-purpose?" "Can a porpoise joke?" "Was that bark a laugh?" If any of those scared bathers had determined, in turn, to investigate. the ways of the porpoises, they would have learned some interesting facts.

For one thing, although a denizen of the waters, the porpoise is not a fish, but a cetacean, a mammal, warm-blooded, viviparous, and suckling the twentyinch infant that it brings forth.

The name "porpoise" as commonly used by sailors, includes also the "dolphins" but scientists distinguish between the two species. The word "porpoise" is evidently derived from the French porc poisson (hog-fish), which corresponds to the German meerschwein, and to the English "hog-fish", "seahog", "herring-hog"-all of which descriptive names refer to their habit of rooting like hogs, for some of their food. But they have other aliases.

Being of the order of whales, they must needs come at frequent intervals to the surface of the water to obtain the indispensable oxygen, and the puff