THE CHOLERA. Sixteen years ago, the cholera made a brief visit to our shores, on its march from the East. Again, it is said, the same dread visitant may be expected. Are we prepared for its presence? Are our dwellings, our cellars, yards and out-buildings clean and in good order? Are there no hidden stores of unwholesomeness, that a little care and trouble will banish from our premises? If we look well to this if we keep nothing about us to invite such a fearful guest, if we take no improper food or drink, if we bathe freely, live temperately, and keep a good conscience, we may await his coming, if come he must, with a calm, serene spirit, resigning ourselves to that Higher Power who will do all things well, and in His own time. SCRIPTURE DOCTRINE. The people of a church over which the late Reverend Mr. S. was pastor, becoming dissatisfied with him after thirty years' faithful ministrations, appointed a committee to wait on him, and report their dissatisfaction. The committee - three as rude and rough men as could be found in the congregation exceeded their privilege of abuse, and insulted the good old pastor shamefully. Their language became, at length, so abusive, that human nature could stand it no longer. The old man was roused to a just anger; and, springing from his seat, he bestowed upon them sundry cuffs and kicks, pulling out handfuls of their hair, and uttering, at intervals, words that sounded very little like a blessing. The worthy trio departed with nerves very much shaken, and were unable to report to their constituents for several days after. The next day after the fight, was Sunday. Church-going people went as usual, and the audience was increased by a large number from other churches, who had an inkling of the matter and were curious to see how the pastor would deport himself. The prayer and singing were over, and Mr. S. arose, calm, placid, and venerable, in the pulpit, with the Bible open before him. His first words were these: "And I contended with them, and smote certain of them, and plucked off their hair, and made them swear by God!” The audience moved uneasily. Surely Mr. S. must be insane to use such language. It could not be his text, they thought, although his manner and voice were solemn and impressive as ever. He waited till the stir was hushed; then laying his hand upon the Bible, he continued, “My friends, you will find these words of my text in the thirteenth chapter of Nehemiah, twentyfifth verse." A hundred hands were reached forth to the Bibles in the pews, and their owners were apparently satisfied that he had taken the text from a legitimate source. We believe the pastor was not removed from the church until the hand of death severed the tie between him and his people. A MORTIFIED ENTHUSIAST. A gentleman residing in an inland town is an enthusiastic admirer of Burns. When the birthday of the poet was about to be celebrated, he was desirous of being present. He had no wish, however, to partake of the feast, as he was a confirmed Grahamite; but he was bent on hearing the speeches, &c. He came to the city, and went to the Revere House, where he intended to pass the evening in his own room, until the "flow of soul" should commence. Feeling somewhat fatigued by his journey, he threw himself upon the bed, and dropped asleep. On waking, he noticed that the house was very quiet, and concluded that the guests had not assembled; but what was his mortification, on looking at his watch, to find that it was morning! He had missed the whole affair, of which he had talked so much before coming to the city. Silent and sullen, he returned to his place of abode. For several days he was annoyed with questions in regard to the festival; but hls neighbors soon found, that, for some unknown reason, he disliked to answer. Finally, it leaked out that he slept through the whole, and he had to submit to the most cutting jests in consequence. He was never afterwards heard to allude to the name of Burns. A SOLDIER'S POLITENESS. A lady, who thinks our soldiers entitled to much gratitude and love, sends the following anecdote: One of our soldiers who has returned from the war, after a severe sickness at the hospital, which still manifests itself in his pale face and emaciated form, has been trying to get an honest living by travelling around with stationery and fancy goods to sell. He rang at a door the other day, and asked to exhibit his wares. A haughty, gaily-dressed lady appeared, who shut the door in his face, saying: 66 No; I have no time to look at such things." Shortly afterward, the lady was out in a bitter day, when the ice was really dangerous in the streets; and she slipped and fell. Our soldier-boy happened to be passing at the moment, and kindly assisted her to her feet, saying pleasantly, "This is to pay you for helping me the other day." A haughty "Thank you" was the only notice she took of him; and, with a cold and angry air, she turned away. AUNT THANKFUL AND THE MIRROR. correspondent writes, UNCLE DAN'S STORIES. Uncle Dan Hastings had a great ambition to be thought a wonderful sportsman, and related astounding stories in that line; although it was well known that the old fellow had a real fear of handling a musket, or any species of fire-arms. He was descanting upon his exploits one day, and mentioned a very strange animal which he had encountered, but could not remember its name. 66 Did you shoot it, Uncle Dan?" said his listener. "Well, now, youngster, I did not kill him, but I treed him." "Did you find out what he was?" LITTLE Ida, a dear little girl of five, earnestly regarding a funeral procession, asked her mother if dead people were not lighter than live ones, "No, dear: they are usually heavier than when alive, as they are what we call a dead themselves, as you do when you spring into my weight: whereas persons who are alive help lap. If you were asleep, you would be a dead A weight." Aunt Thankful, our next-door neighbor, who has lived very quietly all her days, was induced to go to Portland in the steamer. She had never been on board of a steamboat before; and, as it was very rough that night, Aunt Thankful was very sick. She crawled out of her berth, the next morning, with a feeling of gone-a-tive-ness such as she had never before known; and going towards the large mirror in the ladies' cabin, she encountered a haggardlooking woman to whom she said, “Good morning, ma'am. Were you sick last night?" Hearing no answer, yet seeing the pale lips move, she continued, in a sympathizing tone, “Oh, you poor critter! I know exactly how you feel. Sit right down and rest your stomach." And she reached a chair for the poor woman. But somehow, when Aunt Thankful grasped the chair, the haggard woman did the same, and it was some minutes before she found that it was her own image, reflected in the mirror, that she had been talking to. “O MAMMA! George Preston has killed his mother's cat!" said a little child. "And do you believe that God will ever give Mrs. Pres ton another cat?" "Now, mamma," persisted the little one, "dead people must be lighter; because you know their souls are gone out of them, so that weight don't have to be carried." And no reasoning would persuade her to the contrary. A LADY having had the misfortune to upset a jug of cream over a satin dress at a tea-party, a gentleman present, a paper-maker by profession, consoled her for the mishap by saying that she had only "converted a satin-wove into a cream-laid." EDITOR WITH THE CHILDREN. | the articles she had lost, and found them in her own work-bag. WE are is glad to believe that our monthly interview with the children is giving pleasure to the little people whom we greet. Turning from graver and more severe toil, it is pleasure to enjoy the simplicity and freshness of our young friends to cull the fairest and sweetest flowers for them, and to feel that their fragrance is enjoyed and appreciated. Heaven bless the children! What should we do without them? And, as we cannot do without them, by all means, let us strive to make them as innocently happy as we can. Feeling thus, we are resolved to prepare a monthly treat for our little friends and we invite them cordially to partake of it. We do not believe in giving them the refuse, or that which other people reject; but will try to give them good, simple, wholesome food for their minds, just as sensible and judicious parents give healthful and nutritious food for their bodies. KEEP YOUR TEMPER. "I never can keep anything," cried Emma, almost stamping with vexation. Somebody always takes my things away and loses them." (She had mislaid some of her sewing implements.) “There is one thing," remarked her mother, "that I think you might keep if you would try." "I should like to keep even one thing," answered Emma. 666 "Well, then, my dear," resumed her mother, 'keep your temper;' if you will only do that, perhaps, you would find it easy to keep other things. I dare say now, if you had employed your time in searching for the missing articles, you might have found them before this time; but you have not even looked for them. have ac Every girl should know how- 2. To mend clothes neatly. 3. To make beds. 4. To dress her own hair. 5. To wash the dishes and sweep the carpets. 6. To make good bread and perform all plain cooking. 7. To keep her rooms, drawers, and closets in order. 8. To work a sewing machine. 9. To make good butter and cheese. 10. To make a dress and children's clothing. 11. To keep accounts and calculate interest. 12. To write, fold, and superscribe letters properly. 13. To nurse the sick efficiently, and not faint at the sight of a drop of blood. 14. To be ready to render efficient aid and comfort to those in trouble, and in an unostentatious way. 15. To receive and entertain visitors, in the absense or sickness of her mother. A young lady who can do all these things well, and who is always ready to render aid to the afflicted, and mitigate the perplexities of those around her, will bring more comfort to others and happiness to herself, and be more esteemed, than if she only knew how to dance, simper, sing, and play on the piano. A CHEAP MICROSCOPE. Almost everybody knows the utility of a microscope, or magnifying glass, as it is more familiarly called; but there are but very few persons who can construct one as cheaply, and in as short a space of time, as can be done in the following manner:-In the first place, buy a piece of lead (white lead is the best) as follows:-one inch and a quarter in length, half-an-inch wide, and one-sixteenth of an inch in thickness; and then, in one end-first with the sharp and then the blunt end of a pair of scissors — drill a small hole, varying in diameter, from one-quarter to one-sixteenth of an inch. Then drop into this last, a globule of the purest water, and then you will have a microscope of high magnifying power, and almost as perfect as can be made Emma subdued her ill-humor, searched for by art. This will save many a juvenile the ex You have only got into a passion -a bad way of spending your time- and you cused somebody, very unjustly, too, of taking away your things and losing them. Keep your temper, my dear; when you have mislaid any article, keep cool, and search for it. You had better keep your temper, if you lose all the little property you possess; getting in a passion never brings anything to light except a distorted face; and, by losing your temper, you become guilty of two sins, you get into a passion, and you accuse somebody of being the cause. my dear, I repeat, keep your temper.'" So, pense of purchasing his glass of an optician; and, by these means, he will be provided with a valuable auxiliary in his recreative enjoy ments at home. Daisy and Her Dolls. A STORY FOR GIRLS. BY SILVIA. CHAPTER I. TOPSY. any blackberries, don't put them in your pock ets; for if you do, they will get all mashed up, and the juice will stain your apron dreadfully. If you don't mind, I shall have to give the apron to Dolly Clark." The clothes were soon rubbed, rinsed, and hung on the fence to dry. Then came the harder task of washing the doll. The more she was scrubbed with soap and water, the darker she grew; and soon she was quite black. Daisy, in despair, was thinking of trying the effects of sand, when her mother came to the door to call her to supper. She started at once, carrying with her the poor doll. 66 Mamma, what shall I do with Eva?" said she. "I've been trying as hard as I could to wash her white, and now she looks as though she was made of smut." “Look, mamma, see my berries!" exclaimed Daisy Leaf, as she came running into the room where her mother was sitting one pleasant summer afternoon. "Only see what lots I have here. Taste one mamma. They are so sweet!" "Thank you," said her mother, "only one, my dear. But look in the glass at your face; and see your new white apron, which you put on clean an hour ago. How you have stained it!" "I can put on my old pink one; and Biddy can wash this; can't she mamma ? "Yes," was the reply, "run and ask her to added, - "Never mind; she couldn't very well wash it, and you, too." To the kitchen Daisy then went, to share her fruit with Biddy, who, astonished at seeing the little girl in such a plight, exclaimed, Oh, look at the child! What has my blue-eyed Daisy been doing now, spoiling her swate looks entirely!" An hour after, Daisy might have been seen in her play-house under the elm, looking as fresh as a flower from which a loving sunbeam has just kissed the dew. She was holding in her hands, and talking to, a rubber doll, once admired for its bright eyes and rosy cheeks, but now bearing evident marks of old age and ill usage. I must say, Eva, for that Daisy began, was the doll's name,. "that I am quite ashamed of your looks. I see by your hands and dress that you have been to play in the mud, and one would think by the black spots on your face that you had been meddling with the ink or the stove-brush. I believe the best thing I can do will be to give you a good washing." Upon this, she went to the house, and soon returned with some warm soap-suds in a tiny wooden pail, which she used for various purposes. As she proceeded to undress the doll, she continued, -"You will be very careful of your things, won't you, Eva? And if you pick "She is made of India-rubber like your overshoes; and now that you have washed all the paint off of her she looks like a negro sure enough," said Mrs. Leaf, smiling. Seeing the eyes of her little girl filled with tears, she look any worse than she did before; but now I am sure whe will make a very nice little colored doll, and you can call her Topsy." Daisy was much pleased with this suggestion i and, for a time, Topsy was an object of great interest. The next morning, Daisy ironed the dress which she had left on the fence to dry; but the washing had caused it to shrink so that it was now too small for the doll. "Can't you make it larger, mamma?" she asked. "I do believe that Topsy has grown since the dress was made." "The dress was scarcely large enough when it was new, but that was all the cloth I had of that kind, was the reply. "I wish papa would buy me a new dollie, with a pretty dress and cunning little pink shoes like Ella Clark's? Don't you think he will, mamma?" "When my little girl can take better care of her playthings, and does not soil and tear her clothes so carelessly, she can have a new doll," said Mrs. Leaf, who was then mending a rent in a dress which Daisy had torn in climbing over a fence. Thoughtlessness was one of Daisy's principal. faults. Thoughtlessly would she throw her bonnet on the ground and leave it when she was out at play; thoughtlessly, would she run through the mud, instead of walking around it, when she went to the meadow for flowers; and thoughtlessly would she do a great many other things which, young though she was, she knew perfectly well were not proper for her to do. But she was such a loving and generous little girl that you could not think she ever really meant to do wrong. She was very quiet for some time after her mother had spoken. At length she said, "I do wish the Lord had had stuff enough to make me a big girl!” 66 Why, Daisy?" asked her mother. "Because big girls don't be naughty." "Little girls can be good, as well as big ones," replied mamma, with a smile. She added,— “who would run to kiss papa and sit on his knee when he comes home at night? and who would sleep in your crib, and sit in your little chair, if you were a great girl?" Daisy did not reply to this, but went on to say, — " If I were a great girl like cousin Lucy, I could help you do the sewing. How old is cousin Lucy?" "She is ten years old." “And I am three years old.” "You will be four years old next week," said her mother. "Shall I be bigger then? "Not much; but if you are not any larger than you are now, you can help me if you will try." What can I do?" asked Daisy. "Can I mend the other tear in my dress? " "No, it is all done now," was the answer; "but you can do some good by putting it in its place in the clothes-closet.” Daisy took the dress, and ran singing and skipping along, quite happy in the thought of being of some use. She soon returned to ask what she should do next. Again sitting down by her mother's side, she busied herself for a time in stringing some pretty buttons which were in her work-basket. "Thank you, mamma, and Grandma Ellis, too. What a cunning little thing it is?" She looked at it two or three minutes before breaking it, and then exclaimed, "I should think it must be a very young cake!" Mrs. Leaf smiled; but she was soon more particularly pleased to see that her little girl was very careful not to scatter the crumbs about, and that, when she was done, she went to the door and threw them to the birds. "Now may I go out to play with Ella Clark?" she asked as she came in. She received permission to go as soon as she had put away her playthings. "What shall I do with Topsy? was her inquiry. Her mother promised her that before many days Topsy should have a new dress. Ella Clark was only two years older than Daisy; and, as they lived very near each other, they often played together. She was drawing her doll in a little carriage when Daisy went out; and, as she saw her, she called out,—“I am glad you have come, for now we can play go-a-visiting." Little girls who have passed many happy hours with their playmates can imagine what a pleasant time they had. 66 Topsy! who is Topsy?" inquired Lucy in surprise. "Oh, don't you know? she used to be Eva, but now she is a little black girl who hasn't got a dress to put on." Now, Lucy, answering Daisy's first question, could not say that she had come expressly for that purpose, but she did say that, if aunt Ellen would furnish the necessary materials, she was ready to go right to work. "Will you, mamma?" asked Daisy, although she hardly knew what was meant by the "necessary materials.” She understood very well, however, when her mother told her that she might go to the closet and bring out the bags containing pieces of silk and cotton cloth. Some orange-colored delaine was selected for the dress; and Lucy, who was quite skilful with scissors and needle, had it finished before even Daisy was out of patience. A scarlet turban, a blue sash, and red kid shoes, completed Topsy's costume; and a more pleased little girl |