and immediately presume upon its increased powers by overloading it; I did not live to eat, but only ate to live: and behold me! I have no need to be very particular as to what I eat, even at my time of life; I have only to be careful not to eat too much." Here, indeed, is the secret of a great deal that is amiss with many of us. We are in the habit of eating too much, more than our digestive powers can tackle, and that which is not assimilated more or less poisons. The system becomes overcharged, and gives any latent tendency to disease within us every faculty for developing itself. The question is not so much what to eat as what quantity to eat; and nothing but a sharp lookout kept by ourselves upon ourselves can give us the answer.

A WISE BIRD.-A family in Boston is happy in the possession of a parrot of more than ordinary intelligence, and one whose talking powers are the wonder of the neighborhood. In an evil day, however, the bird was taught by some naughty boys to swear like a trooper, and with a perversity wonderfully human, and, withal, strangely savoring of original sin, the feathered biped soon seemed to find pleasure in nothing so much as a sounding oath. Mildly corrective measures proving unavailing, the offender was at last regularly soused in a pail of cold water after each burst of profanity, and then placed on the stove-hearth to dry. During a recent storm some small chickens belonging to the same family got very wet and thoroughly chilled, and several of them were placed on a little perch before the fire to be warmed into full activity again. It so happened that the parrot had just been treated to an involuntary bath himself, and he at once knowingly cocked his head on one side and surveyed the new-comers for a moment in silence. Then, as if all was plain to him, he hitched a little from his dripping companions and exclaimed in an oracular tone, "Little d-d fools been swearing!"

POLO.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE TRANSCRIPT, - Considering the attention this game is now attracting, it may be interesting to give its origin.

The name of the game is derived from the famous Italian traveller, Marco Polo, who brought back from Chin Tartary to Venice the game that now bears his name.

Marco was not a player of the game, as he says in his travels, but was a constant attendant whenever the Calmucks, mounted on their shaggy ponies, quite like the mustangs now used in playing this game, displayed their skill. The distinguished appearance of the famous Venetian, clad in his fur pelisse, and with his long, pointed, white beard flowing down to his waist, so attracted the attention of the Tartars that whenever he appeared the cry was "Polo! Polo!" from every quarter of the ground. The great traveller upon his return to his native land introduced the game there, giving it, as we have stated, the name by which he knew it.

The imitation of this game known as hockey, or hawkey, is by some said to be a corruption of hockday, a now obsolete word meaning holiday, because the game was played usually upon a holiday. Others, however, claim the name is probably derived from the fact that being played in cold or winter weather the players, becoming heated, contracted throat troubles and catarrh, causing them to cough and hawk. The material difference between the games is that hawkey is played always on foot and polo on horseback.

(See the Hist. Lud., antiq. et nov., pp. 248 -250. London, A. D. 1724. Fra. De Beuf. Very rare.)

OLD MORTALITY.

To test the soundness of a piece of timber, place the ear at one end while a person taps on the other. If the stick is sound the noise will be heard distinctly, but any decayed place will interrupt it almost entirely.

AN INCIDENT IN CHARLOTTE CUSHMAN'S LIFE.

BY O. M. E. B.

In the old historic part of Boston, close by the chime of bells given the American colonists by King George, under the vigilant eye of the old cockerel, there stood, in 1816, a "rough-cast house." Here, amid the summer heats, was born, of stern Puritan stock, a blue-eyed girl, who afterwards, singlehanded, fought her way to an eminence where she stood a queen, her royal right unchallenged. Boston proudly boasts that her day and generation had not Charlotte Cushman's equal. In 1867 the old house was torn down, and in its place was built a handsome brick schoolhouse. For five years it had no name; then, happy thought! a member of the school board proposed it should be called "Cushman School," in honor of the celebrated tragedienne. Some of the old conservatives were startled into a mild remonstrance. A public building named, forsooth, for a woman! What matter that it was a girls' school, and women only for teachers! Fortunately there was no mayor who must be flattered with an educational namesake; so the vote was carried, and today a woman's name is graven in letters of granite upon its façade. On the fifth day of January, 1872, Miss Cushman made a tour of the building, gracing each room with her presence. Then all were assembled in the hall for a dedicatory service. On the floor were seated the pupils, a thousand girls, on the platform, teachers and visitors, and in the centre Miss Cushman. Here she made her "maiden speech," as she smilingly said. Those upturned girlish faces were all the inspiration she needed, and a flush of enthusiasm gathered on her pale face.

For their encouragement she told them she walked those very streets a school girl as poor as the poorest of them. With rapid gestures of her large, shapely hands, her eyes glowing with the fire of her own peculiar genius, and her habitual intensity, she

told them that whatever she had attained had been by giving herself to her work. A patience that tired not, an energy that faltered not, a persistence that knows no flagging, principles that swerved not, and the victory was hers, after long years of hard work. Higher than her intellectual strength, higher than her culture, or genius, or graces of character, she ranked her ability for hard work. This was the secret of her success, and the legacy she bequeathed the girls of the Cushman School was work, work, work. They knew something of her history, she had educated her sisters only to see them fall by her side; that she had stoutly resisted the shafts of disease; that the great men of the age delighted to do her honor; that she was an earnest, religious woman, upon whose fair name rested no shadow of suspicion. They felt the soft womanliness of her character shining out from the majesty of strength, and who can say how many impulses "To dare, and do, and be,"

were born there?

that

Among the honored visitors who pressed round after the exercises were over was a slender, dark-eyed woman, principal of a well-known seminary about twenty miles from Boston, - -a woman whom hundreds have risen up and called blessed! She had been thrilled by Miss Cushman's words, and with an impulsive earnestness, so characteristic, said, as she was introduced, "I wish you might live a hundred years, and see the seed you have to-day planted spring up, and ripen a hundred-fold!" The reply flashed back quick and strong, "Madame, I wish I might, that I could do more and do it better!" As the two women, each eminent and successful in her chosen sphere, clasped hands and looked in each other's faces one brief minute, they recognized a fellowship of soul, a kinship of purpose. Madame returned to her home, the centre of a loving family circle,

to the seminary where young, girlish hearts keep the fires of hero-worship always burning on her shrine. Charlotte Cushman returned to her elegant apartments, where

the grand conceptions and impersonations of this woman had been the inspiration of essays and poems, and had won laurels and a world-wide renown, she herself was left solitary.

"My Father, thou hast knowledge, only thou!
How dreary 't is for women to sit still
On winter nights, by solitary fires,

And hear the nations praising them far off!"

Goethe said, "On some faces there is only a date; on others a history!" Much of conflict and victory was chiselled on Charlotte Cushman's face. None of us refuse "glory to God in the highest," few but wish “ peace on earth," but she had surely learned "goodwill toward men; " and these three chords of that angelic choir which nearly two thousand years ago sang "o'er the blue hills of Galilee," had toned the elements of her character into harmonious beauty.

CHARLOTTE CUSHMAN.

BY C. T. B.

[Lines suggested by her request, just before she died, to have Lowell's "Columbus" read to her.]

FOR wast not thou, too, going forth alone

To seek new land across an untried sea?

New land, - yet to thy soul not all unknown, Nor yet far off, was that blest shore to thee.

For thou hadst felt the mighty mystery

That on man's heart and life doth ever rest, A shadow of that glorious world to be Where Love's pure hope is with fruition blest.

Thine was a conflict none else knew but God, Who gave thee, to endure it, strength divine;

Alone with him, the wine-press thou hast trod, And Death, his angel, seals the victory thine.

passed;

The mist is lifted from the unseen land; The voyage ends; the shining throng, at last, Meet thee with welcome on the heavenly strand.

THE GRAVE OF CHARLOTTE CUSHMAN.Those who were most intimately acquainted with Miss Cushman state that she often expressed a desire to be buried as near the place of her birth as circumstances would permit. With this view she visited Mount Auburn Cemetery during the latter part of 1874, and inspected a number of lots and tombs then for sale. Several of these occupy very prominent portions of the cemetery, and are surrounded with costly monuments; but none seemed to suit the simple taste of Miss Cushman, and she pleasantly remarked to one of the attendants, "They are all grand, but have n't you a lot for sale where one can obtain an unobstructed view of Boston?" She was informed that there were a few lots for sale back of the tower, whereupon she said, "Oh, well, let us look at them." While the lady and the official were on their way to the place designated, the graves of some of her once warmest friends were passed, and at each she paused for a moment and related some pleasant memories connected with their lives. Palm Avenue, situated at the eastern side of the ground, was reached, and, standing upon a little eminence, Miss Cushman exclaimed, "This is a delightful spot; see, yonder lies dear old Boston." The lot is numbered 4236, and was at once purchased and orders given by her to have it properly cared for. Last summer she again visited the place in company with a party of other ladies, and appeared to be greatly pleased with the selection she had made. Though the lot is quite a distance from the central part of Mount Auburn, its location is strikingly beautiful, being within full view of this city, and overlooking the widest part of Charles River.

THE CENTENNIAL TREE.

Ar the meeting of the Board of Aldermen last Wednesday evening, the following communication was received from Mr. John Owen, in which he expressed his intention of presenting to the city a tree raised from seed of the old Washington Elm. Mr. Owen, in his endeavors to perpetuate the memories of Washington Elm, which is endeared to the hearts of every citizen of Cambridge, deserves the thanks of all, as the tree to be planted next Monday is the only one in existence taken from the Washington Elm, except the one in the possession of Prof. Longfellow.

CAMBRIDGE, April 26, 1876.

SAMUEL L. MONTAGUE,
Chairman of the Committee on Public
Property of Cambridge.

DEAR SIR, I had already the intention of presenting to the city a young tree from seed of the Washington Elm, to be planted on the Common in Ward One, when I read a report of the consideration of the subject of a Centennial Tree, to be planted by your Committee. I can fully vouch for the parentage of my tree, having transplanted it when only a yearling from its native bed under the old historic tree to my grounds on Mount Auburn Street, twenty-two years ago. Five years since, on leaving my place, it was again removed to land of Samuel Bachelder, occupied by F. W. Story, who has vigilantly cared for it to the present time. With the aid of the city forester, Mr. White, I have had the tree raised from its recent bed, and it is now awaiting the disposal of the Committee, should they do me the honor to accept it for the object proposed. The tree is a little over fifteen feet high, with an equal spread of branches. Yours respectfully,

among whom were about eighteen hundred children of the public schools, the members of both branches of the city government, heads of departments, the school committee, past members of the municipal government, and others. The sapling, which, as stated in the "Transcript" last week, is an offshoot of the Washington Elm, was planted a little westerly of the Soldiers' Monument, on the Garden Street side, and within a few hundred yards of the parent tree. It was taken from the foot of the old tree twenty-two years ago, and has been carefully nurtured since by Mr. John Owen. At half-past four o'clock a circle was formed about the excavation made for its reception, and the hymn "America" was sung by the children. Alderman Montague, chairman of the Committee on Public Property, after a brief address, read a letter from Mr. Owen, vouching for the authenticity of the sapling as a scion of the traditional elm, and then in behalf of the donor and the committee formally transferred it to the city. Mayor Bradford, in a few remarks, accepted the gift, closing with the statement that it would hereafter be known as the Washington Centennial Elm, after which each member of the city government, beginning with the mayor, threw into the trench a spadeful of earth, all present joining in singing, to the tune of "Old Hundred," an original hymn written by Mr. Owen. Then a large number of prominent citizens, ladies, children, and others contributed their quota of earth around the base of the newly-planted tree, which closed the exercises of the day.

THE planting of an offshoot of the Washington Elm upon Cambridge Common, in Ward 1, took place yesterday afternoon in the presence of a large number of spectators,

unfailing remedy in such cases is muriatic acid. If, when a nail is withdrawn from a horse's foot, the foot should be held up and some muriatic acid be poured into the wound, neither lameness nor lockjaw need be feared. Cor. Rod and Gun.

WHITTIER'S CENTENNIAL HYMN.

[From the Philadelphia Times.]

OUR fathers' God! from out whose hand
The centuries fall like grains of sand,

We meet to-day, united, free,
And loyal to our land and thee,
To thank thee for the era done,
And trust thee for the opening one.

Here where of old, by thy design,
The fathers spake that word of thine
Whose echo is the glad refrain
Of rended bolt and falling chain,
To grace our festal time from all
The zones of earth our guests we call.

Be with us while the New World greets
The Old World, thronging all its streets,
Unveiling all the triumphs won
By art or toil beneath the sun;
And unto common good ordain
This rivalship of hand and brain.

Thou who hast here in concord furled
The war-flags of a gathered world,
Beneath our Western skies fulfil
The Orient's mission of good will,
And, freighted with Love's golden fleece,
Send back the Argonauts of peace.

For art and labor met in truce,
For beauty made the bride of use,
We thank thee, while withal we crave
The austere virtues strong to save,
The honor proof to place or gold,
The manhood never bought or sold!

Oh make thou us, through centuries long,
In peace secure, and justice strong;
Around our gift of freedom draw
The safeguards of thy righteous law,
And, cast in some diviner mould,
Let the new cycle shame the old !

NUMBER SEVEN IN THE BIBLE.

ON the seventh day God ended his work. On the seventh month Noah's ark touched the ground.

In seven days a dove was sent. Abraham pleaded seven times for Sodom. Jacob mourned seven days for Joseph. Jacob served seven years for Rachel. And yet another seven years more. Jacob was pursued a seven days' journey by Laban.

A plenty of seven years and a famine of seven years were foretold in Pharaoh's dream by seven fat and seven lean beasts, and seven ears of full and seven ears of blasted corn.

On the seventh day of the seventh month the children of Israel fasted seven days, and remained seven days in their tent.

Every seven years the land rested.

Every seventh year the law was read to the people.

In the destruction of Jericho, seven persons bore seven trumpets seven days; on the seventh day they surrounded the walls seven times, and at the end of the seventh round the walls fell.

Solomon was seven years building the temple, and fasted seven days at its dedication.

In the tabernacle were seven lamps.

The golden candlestick had seven branches. Naaman washed seven times in the river Jordan.

Job's friends sat with him seven days and seven nights, and offered seven bullocks and seven rams for an atonement.

Our Saviour spoke seven times from the cross, on which he hung seven hours, and after His resurrection appeared seven times.

In the Revelation we read of seven churches, seven candlesticks, seven stars, seven trumpets, seven plagues, seven thunders, seven vials, seven angels, and a sevenheaded monster.

WHY is the letter S like lamb? Because it is the beginning of sheep.

WHY do ducks put their heads under water? To liquidate their bills.