squeaks and come to its assistance. A man can't handle many mice at once to advantage. Maria was white as a sheet when she came into the kitchen, and asked what she should do-as though I could hold the mouse and plan a campaign at the same time. I told her to think of something, and she thought she would throw things at the intruder; but as there was no earthly chance for her to hit the mouse, while every shot took effect on me, I told her to stop, after she had tried two flatirons and the coal scuttle. She paused for breath; but I kept bobbing around. Somehow I felt no inclination to sit down anywhere. "Oh, Joshua," she cried, "I wish you had not killed the cat." Now, I submit that the wish was born of the weakness of woman's intellect. How on earth did she suppose a cat could get where that mouse was?-rather have the mouse there alone, anyway, than to have a cat prowling around after it. I reminded Maria of the fact that she was a fool. Then she got the tea-kettle and wanted to scald the mouse. I objected to that process, except as a last resort. Then she got some cheese to coax the mouse down, but I did not dare to let go for fear it would run up. Matters were getting desperate. I told her to think of something else, and I kept jumping. Just as I was ready to faint with exhaustion, I tripped over an iron, lost my hold, and the mouse fell to the floor very dead. I had no idea a mouse could be squeezed to death so easy. That was not the end of trouble, for before I had recovered my breath a fireman broke in one of the front windows, and a whole company followed him through, and they dragged hose around, and mussed things all over the house, and then the foreman wanted to thrash me because the house was not on fire, and I had hardly got him pacified before a policeman came in and arrested me. Some one had run down and told him I was drunk and was killing Maria. It was all Maria and I could do, by combining our eloquence, to prevent him from marching me off in disgrace, but we finally got matters quieted and the house clear. Now, when mice run out of the cupboard I go out doors, and let Maria "shoo" them back again. I can kill a mouse, but the fun don't pay for the trouble. THE BROOK.--ALFRED TENNYSON. I come from haunts of coot and hern; And sparkle out among the fern, By thirsty hills I hurry down, Till last by Philip's farm I flow I chatter over stony ways, With many a curve my banks I fret, I chatter, chatter, as I flow For men may come and men may go I wind about, and in and out, And here and there a foamy flake With many a silvery waterbreak And draw them all along, and flow For men may come and men may go, I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I slide by hazel covers; I move the sweet forget-me-nots I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, I murmur under moon and stars And out again I curve and flow For men may come and men may go, MORE CRUEL THAN WAR. A Southern prisoner of war at Camp Chase in Ohio, after pining of sickness in the hospital there for some time, and confiding to his friend and fellow captive, Colonel W. S. Hawkins, of Tennessee, that he was heavy of heart because his affianced bride in Nashville did not write to him, died just before the arrival of a letter in which the lady curtly broke the engagement. Colonel Hawkins had been requested by his dying comrade to open any epistle which should come for him thereafter, and, upon reading the letter in question, penned the following versified answer: Your letter, lady, came too late, For heaven had claimed its own; Ah, sudden change-from prison bars And yet I think he would have stayed, Could he have read the careless words So full of patience did he wait, As though amongst their shallow throng I would that you were by me now, And see how pure the look he wore The sorrow that you gave to him As 'twere the shadow of the cross "Her love," he said, "could change for me The winter's cold to spring;" Ah, trust in fickle maiden's love, Thou art a bitter thing! For when these valleys, bright in May, Once more with blossoms wave, The northern violets shall blow Your dole of scanty words had been I did not put it where he said, I would not have them find the sign I've read your letter, and I know And gained it-cruel thought! What manly bosoms beat for truth In folly's falsest thrall! You shall not pity him, for now His sorrow has an end; Yet would that you could stand with me Beside my fallen friend; And I forgive you for his sake, As he-if it be given May e'en be pleading grace for you To-night the cold winds whistle by, Within the prison dead-house, where And I would rather see him thus Than clasped in your embrace. To-night your home may shine with light, And ring with merry song, And you be smiling, as your soul Had done no deadly wrong; Your hand so fair that none would think It penned these words of pain; Your skin so white-would God, your heart I'd rather be my comrade dead For your's the sinner's waking dread, He chose his way; you your's; let God THE COUNTRY'S GREATEST EVIL. A short speech by Vice-President Henry Wilson, delivered at the National Temperance Convention, in Chicago, June, 1875. Forty years of experience and observation have taught me that the greatest evil of our country, next, at any rate, to the one that has gone down in fire and blood to rise no more, is the evil of intemperance. Every day's experience, every hour of reflection, teaches me that it is the duty of patriotism, the duty of humanity, the duty of Christianity, to live Christian lives, and to exert temperance influence among the people. There was a time, when I was younger than I am now, when I hoped to live long enough to see the cause which my heart loves and my judgment approves stronger than it is to-day. I may be mistaken, but it seems to me that the present is a rather dark and troubled night for that cause, and it is because it so seems to me that I believe it to be the duty of every honest, conscientious, self-sacrificing man of our country to speak and to work for the cause in every legitimate and proper way. And my reliance for the advancement of the cause of temperance is the same reliance which I have for the spread of the Gospel of our Divine Lord and Master. The heart, the conscience and the reason must be appealed to continually; and Christian men and women must remember that the heart of Christianity is temperance. If it costs a sacrifice, give it. What is sacrifice to doing good and |