Dot time ven ve got married, she vas a lass een shkool,
Und I vas youst aboudt der same-alas! I vas a vool.

She alvays used to shmile so nice venefer I shanced to meet her,

I didn't dought she vould become sooch an orvul oogly creetur;

Bud shoore I vas meesdaken, und I got beat like der dooce— Ov you could only hear her, you'd dink her jaw vas loose. Vone day she says, "Shut oop your moudt; you're blabbin' all der time!"

I says, "I vouldn't do it"-dot's der kind ov a Dootchman I am!

Und den bevore I knew it, she took me by soorbrise,

Und keecked me oudt der house, sir-righdt bevore my vace und eyes!

I tell you vot it vas, sir, I velt a goot deal put oudt,
To hafe my own belofed vife tell me to shut my moudt;
Und because I dought I vouldn't to keeck me oudt der door,
Youst on aggount sooch aickshuns, dot's vy I veel so sore.
I've yelled und shkolded at her until my droat vas hoarse;
But dot naifer didn't do no goot-she's gettin' vorse und
vorse;

Und I've made oop my mind oudt, dot vas my only course
To comb here und get your adwice—und also a diworce.

I know it's hard to gife dot oop, und leefe alone; bud shtill,
Ov she don'd vant to sebarate, I'll get soam vone dot vill.
I know vell 'nuff dot Baitsy'll say dot I'm a great big lummix;
Bud I don'd shvallow all she says-dot von't shtay on my
shtumix.

You talk 'boudt bein' henpecked, und ruled by voman's tongue,

I tell you vot it is, sir, I'm vorse off den Prigham Young. So wrode oop dot baper, lawyer, und draw it righdt avay, Und I'll take it home to Baitsy, und see vot she vill say.

Und den to-morrow morning I vill sell aiferyding I own, Und bid Baitsy und our shild good-bye, und go oudt een der vorld alone.

Und ven I dink ov Baitsy, a dousand milse avay,

I'll baed she'll vant to hafe me comb righdt back home und shtay.

But I naifer vill comb back again, unless she's tooken sick, Ov she is you tailegraf me to comb back pooty gwick.

Remaimper vot I tell you, und don'd keeb me in soos

bense;

Youst bay der tailegrafer, und sharge to my oxbense.

Dot poots me een mind ov someding, dot I can't dink ov now;

I can't remaimper vot I vorget-dot beats all, ainyhow! Oh! now I've got it-wrode it down, dot ven I'm dead und gone,

Baitsy'll bring me back to her, und bury me een der lawn.

Und on my tombstone, let it read in ledders large und blain;

"Here lies Shon Shtuffenheimer, und hees vife she is to blame!"

Und I hope dot in a veek or two, righdt after I hafe d'ed, Baitsy und I vill both ov us be laying side by side.

Und ven Gabreel blows hees drumpet oop, und all der dead shall rise,

Baitsy und I vill both shomp oop, und vipe our veeping

eyes;

Und den ov it looks doubtful, ve'll shtand righdt dere und vait,

Und ven no vone vas lookin', ve'll shkweeze dru der Golden Gate.

WHAT IS HEAVEN?

"What is heaven?" I asked a little child,
"All joy!" and in her innocence she smiled.
I asked the aged, with her care oppressed:
"All suffering o'er, Oh! Heaven, at last, is rest!"

I asked a maiden, meek and tender-eyed,
"It must be love!" she modestly replied.

I asked the artist, who adored his art;

"Heaven is all beauty!" spoke his raptured heart.

I asked the poet, with his soul afire;
"Tis glory-glory!" and he struck his lyre.

I asked the Christian, waiting her release;

A halo round her, low she murmured: "Peace!"

So all may look with hopeful eyes above,
'T's beauty, glory, joy, rest, peace and love!

THE BRIDAL IN EDEN.-F. J. OTTERSON.

The sapphire walls of Paradise
Flashed back the golden sun,
Whose third diurnal journey o'er,
Proclaimed creation done;
The murmurs of Euphrates' wave
Sent up a sweet farewell,
As over Nature's infant life
The wand of slumber fell.

That day the princely king of men—
Great master-work of God-
Through Eden's groves, as lord of all,
In matchless beauty trod;
Before the glancing of his eye
The haughty lion quailed,
And sportive life in every form
Its godlike master hailed.

Now, pensive, by the Tree of Life
He watched the dying day,
His locks of gold in wantonness
Waved to the zephyr's play.

In pairs the birds had sought the boughs,
In pairs the beasts had gone

To slumber by the babbling stream-
Man only was alone.

Alone! alone!-the glittering stars

In pairs appeared to move;

The Moon threw down in modest glow
The Sun's warm glance of love;
The weaker Rose blushed rosy red
Beside the stronger white,

And noisy Day a partner found

In sombre, silent Night.

Though he had moved, acknowledged king,

Amid a world of life,

Fear bowed the weak, fear stilled the strong,

Fear turned to peace the strife;

But now his soul breathed forth a prayer

To Him who reigns above,

That he would send some gentle one

To share his yearning love.

Then on a bed of fragrant flowers
His faultless form reclined,

And death-like sleep in dreams of bliss
Entranced his raptured mind;

While from the prison of his heart
A single bar was torn,

And, moulded by the Maker's hand,
His second self was born.

Still dreamed he, till the seventh day
In dazzling glory broke,

And countless songsters in the groves
Their orisons awoke;

Then, springing from his rosy couch,
He gazed, in wondering pride,
Upon a phantom of himself,

That slumbered by his side.

He spake, and Eve before him stood,
First wakened by his word,

And meekly claimed the son of God
As guardian, husband, lord;

Then, kneeling to the Maker's throne,
Beneath the Tree of Life,

The earliest earthly Sabbath sun
Saw Adam wed his wife.

LESSONS. SALLIE NEILL ROACH.

There are lessons to learn through the school-time of life,
In the great, pressing throng, mid its hurry and strife;
There are teachers around us great truths to make plain;
There are sources from which daily knowledge to gain.
There are lessons of love from the birds and the flowers,
Whose perfume and song fill the glad summer hours;
There are lessons of trust and of hope when the snow
Wraps in semblance of death the new life we shall know.
There are lessons of might in the starry-gemmed sky,
In the voice of the wind as it swift passeth by;
There are lessons of awe in the broad-crested waves,
Breaking still as they broke over centuries' graves.

There are lessons of toil from the insect in air;
There are lessons of patience, and duty, and care.

While the woodland re-echoes with industry's tones
Shall we, "little lower than angels," be drones?

There are lessons of man's mental gifts in the store
Of rich, garnered knowledge each age reckons more.
Shall not yet every year, every nation and clime,
Man by man, add the gems that shall each tell its time?
There are lessons of life as each day turns the page,
From the spring-time of youth to the frost-time of age;
There are lessons of wanderings, lessons of tears,
Re-echoed in wails floating on through the years.
Aye, and still there are lessons of honor and right,
Like radiant beams shining far through the night;
There are lessons of manhood, and wisdom, and truth,
Unrolled for the guidance and welfare of youth.

Let us heed them,-these lessons for mind and for heart;
Gleaning still, day by day, that each God-given part,
Well schooled through the years, form at last the grand
whole,

Which shall yet live eternal-a perfected soul.

GUNN'S LEG.

A good deal of interest was felt in the case of Gunn vs. Barclay, which was tried recently in the Blank County Court. It involved the question of the ownership of Gunn's right leg. Gunn related the facts of the case as follows:

You see, one day last winter, while I was shoveling snow off the roof of my house, I slipped and fell over on the pavement below. When they picked me up they found that my right leg was fractured. Dr. Barclay examined it and gave it as his opinion that mortification would be certain to set in unless that leg came off. So I told him he'd better chop it away. And he went round to his office, and presently he came back with a butcher knife and a cross-cut saw and a lot of rags. Then they chloroformed me, and while I was asleep they removed that leg. When I came to I felt pretty comfortable, and