And sometimes they caught the cars--ah-and sometimes they did not. So I wun after one, I did weally, and I caught it. I was out of bweath, you know, and a fellah on the platform-a conductor fellah-poked me in the back and said, "Come! m ve up! make room for this lady!" Ah-by Jove he did, you know! I looked for the lady, so (using eye-glass), but I could see no lady, and I said so. There was a female person behind me, with a large market-basket, cwowded with ah-vegetables and such dweadful stuff-and another person with a bundle and another with a baby, you know. The person with the basket prodded me in the back with it, and I said to the conductor fellah, said I, "Where shall I sit down? I-ah-don't see any seat, you know. (Uses eye-glass.) The seats seem to be occupied by persons, conductor," said I. "Where shall I sit?" He was wude, very wude, indeed, and he said, " You can sit on your thumb if you have a mind to." And when I wemonstrated with him he only laughed at me.

After a while one of the persons got out and I sat down; it was vewy disagwecable! Opposite me there were several persons belonging to the labowing classes, with what I pwesume to be lime on their boots; and tin kettles which they carried for some mysterious purpose in their hands. There was a person with a large basket, and a colored person. Next to me there sat a fellah that had been eating onions! 'Twas vewy offensive! I couldn't stand it! No fellah could, you know. I had heard that if any one in a car was annoyed by a fellahpassenger he should weport it to the conductor. So I said, "Conductor! put this person out of the car! he annoys me vewy much. He has been eating onions." But the conductor fellah only laughed. He did, indeed! And the fellah that had been eating onions said, "Hang yer impidence, what do you mean by that?" "It's extwemely disagweeable, you know, to sit near one who has been eating onions," said I. "I think you ought to resign, get out, you know" And then, though I'm sure

I spoke in the most wespectfully manner, he put his fist under my nose and wemarked, "You'll eat that, hang you, in a minute!" he did indeed. And a fellah opposite said, "Put a head on him, Jim!" I suppose from his tone that it was some colloquial expwession of the lower orders, referring to a personal attack. It was vewy disagweeable, indeed. I don't see why any fellah ever wides in the horse-cars. But I didn't want a wow, you know. A fellah is apt to get a black eye, and a black eye spoils one's appeawance, don't you think? So I said, "Beg pardon, I'm sure." The fellah said, “Oh, hang you!" he did, indeed. He was a vewy ill-bred person. And all this time the car kept stopping and more persons of the lower orders kept getting on. A very dweadful woman with a vewy dweadful baby stood right before me, intercepting my view of the street; and the baby had an orange in one hand and some candy in the other. And I was wondering why persons of the lower classes were allowed to have such dirty babies, and why Bergh or some one didn't interfere, you know, when, before I knew what she was doing, that dweadful woman sat that dweadful baby wight down on my lap! She did, indeed. And it took hold of my shirt bosom with one of its sticky hands and took my eye-glass away with the other, and upon my honor, I'm quite lost without my eye-glass. "You'll have to kape him till I find me money," said the woman. "Weally!" said I, "I'm not a nursery-maid, ma'am." Then the people about me laughed, they did, indeed. I could not endure it. I jumped up and dwopped the baby in the straw. "Stop the car, conductor," said I, "stop the car." What do you suppose he said? "Hurry up now, be lively, be lively, don't keep me waiting all day!" And I was about to wemonstrate with him upon the impwopwiety of speaking so to a gentleman, when he pushed me off the That was the only time I ever wode in a horsecar. I wonder why fellahs ever do wide in horse-cars? I should think they would pwefer cabs, you know.

car.

JAQUELINE.-GEO. M. VICKERS.

Little Jaqueline sat 'neath an old oaken tree,
In a cool, shady dell, near the brink of a spring,
And her pitcher lay empty beside her.

And her dark chestnut ringlets fell reckless and free
O'er her plump, dimpled shoulders, there seeming to cling
As though jealous some ill might betide her;

While from under her hat beamed the loveliest eyes,
Of the tenderest, rarest and deepest of blue

That kind Heaven o'er lavished on maiden.
Oh, what beauty revealed,-what a wealth to surmise,
Thus encircled with wild flowers varied in hue,

And the air with their scent richly laden.

It was witching to gaze on those round, faultless arms,
And the small, snowy hands that were clasped on her knee,
She appeared such a fairy-like wee thing.

Yet no phantom was she, for her womanly charms
And her breast's undulations would make the doubt flee,
And be proof that the creature was breathing.

In that lonely retreat, 'neath the old oaken tree,
Pretty Jaqueline lingered, still longing to stay,
Though denying the reason she tarried.
She could do as she pleased, on that day she was free;
Yet she sighed as the moments stole swiftly away,
For she knew on the next she'd be married.

Oh, the morning was bright, and the wedding was grand!
But the bride was too dull, and her face was so white;

And then, why did her youthful voice falter?
For the groom's handsome features shone happy and bland
Surely hearts of true lovers should swell with delight
When they kneel before God's holy altar.

And the gossips, who seek only what we would hide,
Slyly hinted that naught but her hand had been won
By the stranger's brief wooing and glitter.
For they thought of another than he at her side;
Of a love that in duty she ever must shun,
Of a life that each vow would embitter.

In a calm, far away, on the Indian sea,

On the deck of a barque, sat a group of Jack tars
Idly watching a seaman tattooing:

'Twas the arm of a landsman that lay on the knee
Of the indigo artist, and soon the blue scars
Plainly told what the fellow was doing.

Only "Jaqueline "-hurriedly hid by his sleeve,
And the lubber strode off and gazed over the rail
At the spars mirrored back by the ocean.

Such a warm heart and true, how could maiden deceive?
And he sighed as he stood there, dejected and pale,
All alone with his hopeless devotion.

Twenty years have gone by. See that hollow-cheeked dame
Seated there, like a ghost, 'neath the globed chandelier
With a fair, blooming damsel beside her!

That is Jaqueline; changed, quite, in all but the name.
She is rich, tho' her brilliant gems, flashing, appear
By their splendor alone to deride her.

Poor mistaken; how sinful her secret regret!
And how vainly she tries to be loyal in thought
To the man she has promised to cherish!
How she broods o'er one face that she ne'er can forget;
How in honor repeiled and then eagerly sought

The fond yearning that never can perish.

Then her child, the loved fetter that binds her to life,
How she dreads lest it meet with a fate like her own,
And be bound, yet forever be parted!

There she sits, smiling down her soul's anguish and strife,
Seeking roses where briers and weeds have been sown;
The proud mistress of wealth,-broken-hearted.

If ye marry too soon, if ye marry too late,
Then beware of the curse, for the husband or wife

May in time crave the love that was slighted.

Oh, the joy of the soul is in greeting its mate,
And the fullness of happiness dwells with that life
Where the heart with the hand is united.

WHAT ONE BOY THINKS.-HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD,

A stitch is always dropping in the everlasting knitting,

And the needles that I've threaded, no, you couldn't count to-day;

And I've hunted for the glasses till I thought my head was

splitting,

When there upon her forehead as calm as clocks they lay.

I've read to her till I was hoarse, the Psalms and the Epis tles,

When the other boys were burning tar barrels down the street;

And I've stayed and learned my verses when I heard their willow whistles,

And I've stayed and said my chapter with fire in both my feet.

And I've had to walk beside her when she went to evening meeting,

When I wanted to be racing, to be kicking, to be off; And I've waited while she gave the folks a word or two of greeting,

First on one foot and the other and 'most strangled with a cough.

"You can talk of Young America," I say, "till you are scar

let

It's Old America that has the inside of the track!” Then she raps me with her thimble and calls me a young varlet,

And then she looks so woe-begone I have to take it back.

But! There always is a peppermint or a penny in her pocket, There never was a pocket that was half so big and deep; And she lets the candle in my room burn way down to the socket,

While she stews and putters round about till I am sound asleep.

There's always somebody at home when every one is scat

tering;

She spreads jam upon your bread in a way to make you

grow;

She always takes a fellow's side when every one is battering; And when I tear my jacket I know just where to go.

And when I've been in swimming after father's said I shouldn't,

And mother has her slipper off according to the rule, It sounds as sweet as silver, the voice that says "I wouldn't; The boy that wont go fishing such a day would be a fool!"

Sometimes there's something in her voice as if she gave a blessing,

And I look at her a moment and I keep still as a mouseAnd who is she by this time there is no need of guessing; For there's nothing like a grandmother to have about the house!