The last time he was fetched to find a lost child he was guzzling with his bell at the Crown, And went and cried a boy instead of a girl, for a distracted mother and father, about town. Billy-where are you, Billy, I say? Come, Billy, come home to your best of mothers! I'm scared so when I think of them cabroleys, they drive so they'd run over their own sisters and brothers. Or maybe he's stole by some chimbly-sweeping wretch, to stick fast in narrow flues and what not, And be poked up behind with a picked pointed pole, when the soot has ketched, and the chimbly's red hot. Oh, I'd give the whole wide world, if the world was mine, to clap my two longin' eyes on his face, For he's my darlin' of darlin's, and if he don't soon come back you'll see me drop stone dead on the place. I only wish I'd got him safe in these two motherly arms, and wouldn't I hug him and kiss him! Lawk! I never knew what a precious he was-but a child don't not feel like a child till you miss him. Why, there he is! Punch and Judy hunting, the young wretch, it's that Billy, as sartin as sin! But let me get him home, with a good grip of his hair, and I'm blest if he shall have a whole bone in his skin! COMPENSATION. "There is no sunshine that hath not its shade, ΑΝΟΝ. MATRIMONIAL COUNSELS. You are going to marry my pretty relation, My dove-like young cousin, so soft in the eyes; You are entering on life's settled dissimulation, And, if you'd be happy, in season be wise. OWEN MEREDITH. Take my counsel. The more that, in church, you are tempted The more on your wife's little wishes you'll spend. The more your wife plagues you the more you'll respect her; And happy the husband whose failings afford Your wife's lady's maid, though she give herself airs; A little put out when you're kept at the door; However she dresses, you'll never suggest to her That her taste as to colors could scarcely be worse; If, at times with a doubt on the soul and her future, Revelation and reason, existence should trouble you, You'll be always on guard to keep carefully mute, your Ideas on the subject, and read Dr. W. Bring a shawl with you home when you come from the club, sir, Or a ring, lest your wife, when you meet her, should pout; And don't fly in a rage and behave like a cub, sir, "Tis the husband's a cur when the wife is a cat. She is meekness itself, my soft-eyed little cousin, But a wife has her rights, and I'd have you know that. Keep my counsel. Life's struggles are brief to be borne, friend. And your worth not the best of your friends will disparage. THE WAY TO HEAVEN. J. G. HOLLAND. Heaven is not gained at a single bound; That a noble deed is a step toward God, We rise by things that are 'neath our feet; By what we have mastered of good and gain; When the morning calls us to life and light, Our lives are trailing the sordid dust. We hope, we resolve, we aspire, we pray, And we think that we mount the air on wings While our feet still cling to the heavy clay. We may borrow the wings to find the way, We may hope and resolve and aspire and pray, Only in dreams is a ladder thrown From the weary earth to the sapphire walls; But we build the ladder by which we rise THE INQUIRY. CHARLES MACKAY. Tell me, ye winged winds, that round my pathway roar, And sigh'd for pity as it answer'd—“No.” Tell me, thou mighty deep, whose billows round me play- The loud waves rolling in perpetual flow Stopp'd for awhile, and sigh'd to answer-"No." And thou, serenest moon, that, with such lovely face, Dost look upon the earth, asleep in night's embrace, Tell me, in all thy round, hast thou not seen some spot Where miserable man might find a happier lot? Behind a cloud the moon withdrew in woe, And a voice, sweet, but sad, responded-"No." Faith, Hope and Love, best boons to mortals given, DISCIPLINE. From the New York Times. There is nothing like discipline. Instant and implicit obedience is the most valuable lesson that either boy or man can learn. It involves promptness, precision, and that decision of character which we have the authority of Foster for regarding as an inestimable thing. A boy may be taught half a dozen meritorious languages, together with all the permutations of apples and oranges in the arithmetic, without being half as well educated as the boy who merely knows how to obey orders. Such is or was the opinion of Mr. Chzmenzryski, a New England school-teacher of the purest Puritan blood, who until recently presided over the district school of Johnstown, Ohio. He was undoubtedly an able instructor of youth, and his peculiar method of using the convex side of the ruler was greatly admired by the boys in other towns. While he taught his pupils everything that should be taught in a well-regulated school, he was particularly strong in the matter of discipline. His pupils were trained with such success, that they did everything by the stroke of a bell with the precision of a veteran regiment drilling by the bugle. It was an impressive sight to see his Latin class recite their lesson in two times and four motions-as per his private manual of tactics—and the boy who committed the slightest error was so thoroughly convinced of his fault, that in most cases he preferred to take his meals in a standing position, and to sleep face downward for the ensuing week. While Mr. Chzmenzryski was the strictest of disciplinarians, he was nevertheless far from being a hard master and unsympathetic man. On the contrary, he always tried to instill moral principles and box-wood rulers into his pupils in a genial and attractive way. Thus, he was in the constant habit of relating entertaining anecdotes to the boys, and no matter how often he told a story, he |