An instance of unfeelingness as well as impoliteness, came to my notice, during another short ride in the same car. A poor, mutilated man, probably a soldier, appeared at the door, leaning upon two crutches, which he could not manage rightly, as they were large and clumsy. Instead of being quietly allowed to drop into the first scat, he was hindered by one and another of the younger and stronger passengers obliging him to go half way up the car. It was only by the humanity of a lady who gave him her seat, that he was finally accommodated.

The "Fenians."

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While we are partially resting upon our lately won laurels, our neighbors across the ocean are exercising their wrath upon that portion of the United Kingdom who have long been nursing a rebellion which now seems to be springing up into something quite serious.

The old Milesian blood seems to be stirring in veins that have only answered to quiet, loyal throbs. "Erin go bragh" is putting its weight against the ponderous frame of its elder brother. John looks on astounded; and, in a choleric sort of way, like men disturbed over a good dinner, calls in the police and orders the disturbers to be arrested. But the FENIANS are

not thus lightly disposed of. They go back to the heroes of the past, and call themselves by the ancient name -a name not understood generally, because considered obsolete. But the following solution will enlighten some who may take an interest in the signification of that name which is awakening a spark of the old fire so long smouldered. We quote, at length, from a contemporary journal:—

Fenian is a word that puzzles people who do not pay much attention to the curiosities of literature, and the Fenians of to-day have made it so important that it is, we may assume, worth not a little attention, though the subject is a difficult one to handle, unless the writer be an Irishman, and well booked upon it. As far back as the early years of the Christian era there existed in Ireland a military brotherhood, or militia, called Fianna Eirinn. In the third quarter of the third century, this body was commanded by Finn MacCumhal, son-in-law of the famous King Cormac Ulfadha, but better known to the Saxons as Fingal, who like President Lincoln, was assassinated. This brotherhood became utterly divided, the members quarrelling

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bitterly, as Irishmen sometimes will, the Clan Morna being the other party. The former the upshot was that, after having defied even claimed precedence over all other soldiers; and the throne, they were assailed, in the reign of King Cabre, son of Cormac, and annihilated, almost to a man, Ossian falling by the royal hand, no doubt with a shillelagh in it. Össian's followers were called Fians, or Fenii, and the battle that was so fatal to them was that of Gabhra. The Fenian heroes became favorites with the Irish bards and romancers, and the critics say that it is on their productions, sometimes called Fenian Poems, and others yet more ancient, that Macpherson founded his celebrated works, concerning which there was so much hot blood, and so many hot words, in the last century. The reader probably remembers the conversation in Scott's Antiquary, between Mr. Oldbuck of Monkbarns and his Highland nephew, Captain Hector M'Intyre, in which the latter stands up stoutly for the authenticity of Macpherson's Ossian. He quotes to his uncle, from the original, translating himself, some portions of a dialogue between St. Patrick and Ossian, in which the latter asks, "Do you compare your psalms to the tales of your bare-arm'd Fenians?" when his uncle asks, “Are you sure you are translating the last epithet correctly, Hector?" Quite sure, sir," said Hector, doggedly. "Because I should have thought the nudity might have been quoted as existing in a different part of the body." We presume that our modern Fenians take their name from those

ancient Irish heroes who figured so long ago, and of whom the bards used to sing,- that they aspire to be a military fraternity, or brotherhood, like the Fianna Eirinn, who flourished when Cormac was King, and to be the champions of Ireland, and in that way to win the praise of poets and the love of ladies.

A Frenchman on American Ladies.

After a few months residence in America, M. de Hauraune has brought out the usual budget of foreign criticism in regard to our people, manners and institutions, entitled "Eight Months in the United States." He comes down heavily upon the elegantes of Saratoga and other fashionable resorts, condemns the free manners of the young ladies and their husbandhunting proclivities, and finds sufficient fault with things, as in duty bound. Indeed, he would not be read at all, if he had not spiced it pretty strongly with sarcasm, to make it palatable abroad. Perhaps he was conscious of the weak dish he was preparing, and was fain to drop the-pepper box into the cream pitcher.. But perhaps the ladies will forgive M. de Hauraune, when they read his candid admission upon one point. He asserts that the American women are the most intellectual half of American society!

Ladies! do you appreciate this compliment?

EDITOR'S DRAWER.

WATCH AND HIS MASTER. A student from Dartmouth, spent the long winter vacation in teaching upon Cape Cod. The minister kindly furnished him with board, and as he had a charming wife and a cozy nest of a home, our school-teacher declared that he had but one trial, and that was his position upon the Sabbath. The minister's pew was a large square one, very near the pulpit, and exposed to a raking fire of eyes. Of course the minister's wife and the master were quite as attractive to a certain class of church-goers as the minister and the sermon, and the student professed, with a merry twinkle in his eyes, to be very modest.

Mr. Tyler, the minister, owned a large dog named Watch, and Watch was bent upon going to church with Mrs. Tyler. She, in her turn, was much opposed to his going, fearing that he might excite the mirth of roguish children, who are only too glad of an excuse for laughing when they ought not to laugh.

Every Sunday, a series of manoeuvres took place between the two, in which Watch often proved himself the keenest. Sometimes he slipped away very early, and Mrs. Tyler, after having searched for him, to shut him up, would go to church and find Watch sitting in the family pew, looking very grave and decorous, but evidently aware that it was too late to turn

him out.

Sometimes he would hide himself till the family had all started for church, and would then follow the footsteps of the tardy worshipper, who always tiptoed in during prayer with creaking boots, and then didn't Watch know that Mrs. Tyler would open the pew-door in haste, to prevent his whining for admission?

When Mr. Tyler became most earnest in his appeals, he often repeated the same word with a ringing emphasis, and a blow on the deskcushion that startled the sleepers in the pews into the most erect and attentive position that they could assume.

One day he thus shouted out, quoting the well-known text, "Watch! Watch! WATCH, I say!" When rustle, rustle, bounce! came his big dog into his very arms.

You may be sure the boys all took the occasion to relieve their pent up restlessness by one uproarous laugh, before their astonished parents had time to frown them into silence.

Honest Watch had been sitting with his eye

fixed, as usual, upon the minister. At the first mention of his name up went his ears, and his eyes kindled; at the second he was still more deeply moved; at the third he obeyed, and flew over pew-rail and pulpit-door in a leap that did equal honor to his muscular powers and his desire to obey. After such a strict interpretation of the letter, rather than the spirit, Watch was effectually forbidden church-going.

"LONG time ago" the pulpit of a certain country village was, one Sabbath day, supplied by an elderly clergyman, a stranger who happened to be detained in that vicinity, and was invited to preach to the pastorless congregation. He preached a very good Methodist sermon. The people were charmed with his manners, admired his voice, but were unable to respond to certain views which he exhibited in regard to some points of belief.

At dinner, a gentleman who had invited him home, pointed out to him that he had mistaken the people, and that they had been in the habit of listening only to Universalist sermons. Instead of being shocked, as his host expected he would, he said it was all right; or, if not, he would make it so in the afternoon.

The second service commenced by the preacher apologizing for the forenoon sermon. He stated that if the congregation had any thing to complain of in that sermon, he was ready to take it back! He then went on and preached according to the faith which they held. While he was apologizing, however, an awkward, silly fellow, who stood in the aisle, staring about, on catching the minister's offer to "change the programme," called out, to the people,- Wall, that's fair, faith!"

LITTLE MARION. Marion is four years old. She was thrown from a carriage, injuring her face and eyes considerably; and the physician ordered cloths wet with arnica to be laid upon them. She begged to be allowed to see; so her mother first uncovered one eye and then the other, for a few minutes each day; but when Marion was going to bed, they were again covered close. She did not like this, and supposing she was to be poisoned she exclaimed: Mother, for mercy's sake, don't bind me up with arsenic again."

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She had seen her brother stuff birds; using a preparation of arsenic, to preserve the skin, and supposed she was to be treated in that way.

A SYMPATHETIC MAN. A very worthy and successful schoolmaster, still teaching in one of our best Boston schools, relates a good anecdote of his practising in elocutionary studies.

It was his habit, as was Demosthenes, to go to the sea-side to exercise his voice. One day, when his self-imposed lesson was rather more unmusical than usual, he saw a pair of stout arms appearing, upraised from behind a rock. Soon a shock head, with hair bristling all over it, made its appearance; and he was greeted with this adjuration:

"Who are yees? Can I be of any use to yees? What seems to be the matter with yees? Is it a pain in your bowels ye've got? For God's sake, what can I do for yees? Shall I run for the docther?"

It was some time before Mr. H. could prevail upon the Good Samaritan to let him "holler in peace."

NEW STYLE OF HAT. Old Mr. Sampson had clung vigorously to all the ancient fashions of dress; and especially to his napless, belltopped hat. Still, to the astonishment of his neighbors, when the Kossuth came to be worn, the old gentleman warmly applauded the style, and thought he must have one. So, one morning, he started early for the city, and entering a fashionable hat store, proclaimed his wish to swap hats. The salesman looked at the old bell-top and smiled; expressing his regrets that they had none of a fashion that would be likely to suit the customer, and also that they did not receive hats in exchange.

The old gentleman was greatly disappointed. His was a very nice beaver, he said; or it ought to be; it cost eight dollars only fifteen years before; and to tell the truth," he added, "I wanted one of them are cusses."

The salesman was too polite to laugh, until the old bell-top disappeared in the crowd going down Washington Street, probably in search of a cuss, as he persisted in calling the Kossuth.

RECENTLY, a lady from one of our cities, called at a house in the suburbs, and was quite attracted by the appearance of some chickens feeding in the yard.

"What are those little creatures?" she asked. "Are they birds?"

The owner explained.

"Really, are those chickens? I never saw any before. Why, how do they obtain their sustenance? Do they nurse?"

AN ODD GENIUS. Our New London correspondent relates the following anecdotes of an eccentric genius well known in that city :

After David's marriage, he assumed the duties of marketing; and, one day, went to a store to buy a barrel of flour. The grocer asked him if he would not like some saleratus.

"Sal of ages!" exclaimed Dave, "who's she?" The man explained that it was an article which people put with their flour, to make bread. "Well you

"Is it, though?" said Dave. may let me have half a barrel of it." "Half a barrel! O, that would be too much. It takes only a very little to raise the bread." Very well; then put me up fourteen pounds, to try it."

Another time he went to buy some pork for frying fish. The store-keeper had none, that day; but a wag who was present, suggested that the fish would be equally good if fried in water. Dave caught at the idea directly, and put it in practice on his return home, by ordering his wife to fry the fish in water. Speaking of it to some one, Dave remarked that fish fried that way, tasted just as if it was biled.

A NEVER FAILING SUPPLY. A fond mother writes:—

I said to little Johnnie, who was wasting potatoes, a few days ago, that he must not do so any more. He was sitting on the ground, beside a large heap, and chopping them into atoms with his little hatchet. He looked up wicked waste, when they cost so much; and very gravely, into my face, as I spoke of the answered, very coolly :—

"Nevertheless, Donnie will do on, chopping potatoes."

This, from a three-year old, was irresistibly comic; especially as it was accompanied by a look of perfect composure and tranquility.

A CURIOUS EPITAPH. A few years ago, a man died and was buried at Key West. His friends proposed sending out tombstones, to mark the spot where he was laid; but, finally, the plan was overcome by some relative, who thought it better to plant the memorial in the graveyard of his native place.

Various were the suggestions that were raised, as to the best manner of informing the passer-by that the body did not actually lie under the stone; but they were laid aside, in deference to the poet of the family, who agreed to bring it in gracefully, and poetically, in the epitaph.

This was accomplished, in the following

manner :

"Although he's buried at Key West,
We trust his soul is with the blest."

My informant, a jolly clergyman, who is very fond of collecting quaint and curious epitaphs, added slily:

"As though it would be a pretty tight sqeeeze for a soul to enter Heaven, when the body was at Key West!"

A HORSE-CAR INCIDENT. "I want you to leave me at Mr. Mudge's house," said a woman the other day, to a conductor on one of the city horse-cars.

"Can't do it, ma'am," replied the conductor civilly.

"Can't? Why not, pray?"

"Because this is the end of the track, ma'am." "Well, what if it is? I was to go to Mr. Mudge's; and I think it is very strange that you won't carry me there."

She was quite indignant when she found that she must leave the car or be carried back to the city again.

A CONTRABAND. Our gardener, a contraband, was moaning last week over the destruction of the strawberries and early peas, occasioned by the recent drouth. Why, ma'am," said he, "I don't see what de bressed Lord can be tinking of, to let dese yere tings suffer so!" This man belonged to a planter in New Orleans just before Butler occupied that city. According to their usual custom, the slaves of this planter went to their master to get what they called their "Christmas suit." Solomon, since coming to Massachusetts, was relating the circumstance, and said :

"Massa didn't gib us de clothes, but told us if we wanted 'em, to ax Abe Linkum for 'em.

I say, 'Bery well, massa.' Den I cum way from de plantation, and jined Massa Butler. I was a good toter, and Massa Butler wanted all dat could tote. Den Massa Delpette sent for me 'an order me back; but I put my two hands on my hips, and say, 'No! massa he tell me go ax Linkum for clothes, and I axed him, and I'se got 'em. I go no more back to de plantation!""

A CHILD'S RELICT. "Mamma, what is the meaning of relict?" said a little girl of four summers. Somebody read in the paper that Mrs. Smith, relict of Mr. Samuel Smith, was dead."

The child, who could read quite well, was told to look in the dictionary to discover the meaning. She did so; and, as she made no more inquiries, her mother supposed that she was satisfied.

In a few days she came to her mother again, with the information that Mr. Johnson's “old rag was dead.

"Why, Emily, how improperly you talk!" said her mother "What do you mean?"

“Why, mamma, I looked in the dictionary, and found that relicts meant old rags, and James has just got the newspaper, and read, Died, Mrs. Mary Johnson, relict of Daniel Johnson, Esq.'"

EARLY PIETY. Little Freddy, a thoughtful child of between three and four, came in from play one day during the dusty season, and exhibited a very soiled neck to the shocked eyes of his mother. She sent him to the maid, to be washed. On his return to the room she asked if we had been washed clean.

"I can't tell, mother," said the boy; "I have not got any eyes behind me.”

"But, Freddy, do you think your neck is clean?"

"I don't think about such things as that, mother. My thoughts are upon God!”

His mother had to appear satisfied with this exhibition of early piety.

PROOFS OF PIETY. A lady friend writes,

I reproved Mrs. Dolan for beating her youngest boy, Jamie; especially as she had always been telling me that he was a pious little boy.

"Ah, ma'am!" she answered; he would go to the divil without it. Sure, the last time I bate him, he fell on his two knees av him, and said, O howly Lord! mother, don't bate me any more. Oh, ma'am ! you see Jamie is pious, or he wouldn't have said that!"