diately spread her own handkerchief in her lap; and when the baker's wife went to the fireplace to shake out her crumbs, my lady did the same. This silent rebuke was sufficient to prevent any further rudeness to the unsophisticated wife of the baker. No elaborate rules are necessary to teach us true natural politeness. We need only remember two short texts of Scripture: "Do unto others as ye would that they should do unto you." "God is your Father, and all ye are brethren."

Elderly people are apt to think that their years exempt them from paying so much attention to good manners as the young are required to do. On the contrary, they ought to be more careful in their deportment and conversation, because their influence is greater. Impure words or stories repeated by parents or grandparents may make indelible stains on the minds of their descendants, and perhaps give a sensual direction to their characters through life. No story, however funny, should ever be told, if it will leave in the memory unclean associations, either physically or morally.

A love of gossiping about other people's affairs is apt to grow upon those who have retired from the active pursuits of life; and this is one among many reasons why it is best to keep constantly occupied. A great deal of trouble is made in neighborhoods, from no malicious motives, but from the mere excitement of telling news, and the temporary importance derived therefrom. Most

village gossip, when sifted down, amounts to the little school-girl's definition. Being asked what it was to bear false witness against thy neighbor, she replied: "It's when nobody don't do nothing, and somebody goes and tells of it." One of the best and most genial of the Boston merchants, when he heard people discussing themes of scandal, was accustomed to interrupt them, by saying: "Don't any more about it! Perhaps they did n't do it; and may be they could n't help it." For self, I deem it the greatest unkindness to be told

talk

For my

anything said against me. I may prevent its exciting resentment in my mind; but the consciousness of not being liked unavoidably disturbs my relations with the person implicated. There is no better safeguard against the injurious habit gossiping, than the being interested in principles and occupations; if you have these to employ your mind, you will have no inclination to talk about matters merely personal.

of

When we reflect that life is so full of neglected little opportunities to improve ourselves and others, we shall feel that there is no need of aspiring after great occasions to do good.

"The trivial round, the common task,
Would furnish all we need to ask;
Room to deny ourselves, a road
To bring us daily nearer God."

THE BOYS.

WRITTEN FOR A MEETING OF COLLEGE CLASSMATES.

BY OLIVER W. HOLMES.

HIf there has, take him out, without making a HAS

AS there any old fellow got mixed with the boys?

noise!

Hang the Almanac's cheat, and the Catalogue's spite! Old Time is a liar! We're twenty to-night.

We're twenty! We're twenty! Who says we are more?

He's tipsy, young jackanapes! Show him the door!
"Gray temples at twenty?" Yes! white, if we please ;
Where the snow-flakes fall thickest, there's nothing
can freeze.

Was it snowing I spoke of? Excuse the mistake!
Look close, you will see not a sign of a flake;
We want some new garlands for those we have shed,—
And these are white roses in place of the red.

We've a trick, we young fellows, you may have been told,

Of talking (in public) as if we were old;

That boy we call "Doctor," and this we call "Judge";It's a neat little fiction,

of course, it's all fudge

That fellow's "the Speaker," the one on the right; "Mr. Mayor," my young one, how are you to-night? That's our "Member of Congress," we say when we

chaff;

There's the "Reverend" What's his name? Don't make me laugh!

Yes, we're boys,-always playing with tongue or with

pen,

And I sometimes have asked, Shall we ever be men? we always be youthful, and laughing and gay, Till the last dear companion drops smiling away?

Shall

Then here's to our boyhood, its gold and its gray!

The

Stars of its Winter, the dews of its May! And when we have done with our life-lasting toys, Dear Father, take care of thy children, the Boys!

ODE OF ANACREON.

TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK.

I LOVE a mellow, cheerful sage,
Whose feelings are unchilled by age;
I love a youth who dances well
To music of the sounding shell;
But when a man of years, like me,
Joins with the dancers playfully,
Though age in silvery hair appears,
His heart is young, despite of years

MYSTERIOUSNESS OF LIFE.

A

FROM MOUNTFORD'S EUTHANASY.

BOUT the world to come, it ought not to be as though we did not know surely, because we do not know much. From the nearest star, our earth, if it is seen,

looks hardly anything at all.

It shines, or rather it twinkles, and that is all. To them afar off, this earth is only a shining point.

But to us who live It is sea and land; it

in it, it is wide and various. is Europe, Asia, Africa, and America; it is the lair of the lion, and the pasture of the ox, and the pathway of the worm, and the support of the robin ; it is what has day and night in it; it is what customs and languages obtain in; it is many countries; it is the habitation of a thousand million men; and it is our home. All this the world is to us; though, looked at from one of the stars, it is only a something that twinkles in the distance. It is seen only as a few intermittent rays of light; though, to us who live in it, it is hill and valley