THE CHILDREN'S CORNER.

The nightingale shyly took
Her head from under her wing,
And giving the dove a look,

Straightway began to sing.
There was never a bird could pass;
The night was divinely calm;
And the people stood on the grass
To hear that wonderful psalm!

The nightingale did not care,
She only sang to the skies;
Her song ascended there,

And there she fixed her eyes.
The people that stood below,

She knew but little about;
And this story's a moral, I know,
If you'll try to find it out.

BREAKING IT GENTLY.

From the German of Grun.

THE Count he was riding home one day,
But meeting his groom upon the
way-
"Where are you going, groom?" said he,
"And where do you come from? answer me."

"I'm taking a walk for exercise sake,
And besides there's a house I want to take."
"To take a house!" said the Count, "speak
out;

What are the folks at home about ?"

"Not much happened," the servant said,
"Only, your little white dog is dead."
"Do you tell me my faithful dog is dead?
And how did this happen?" the master said.
"Well, your horse took fright and jumped
on the hound,

Then ran to the river, and there got
drowned."

'My noble steed! the stable's pride!
What frightened him?" the master cried.

""Twas when, if I remember well,
Your son from the castle window fell."
"My son! but I hope he escaped with life,
And is tenderly nursed by my loving wife !"
"Alas! the good Countess has passed away!
For she dropped down dead where her dead
son lay!"

"Why, then, in a time of such trouble and
grief,

Are you not taking care of the castle, you thief?"

"The castle! I wonder which you mean!
Of yours but the ashes are now to be seen;
As the watcher slept-misfortune dire!
In a moment her hair and her clothes took
fire.

Then the castle around her blazed up in a
minute,

And all the household perished in it,
And of them all, Fate spared but me,
Thus gently to break the news to thee."

The Children's Corner.

ASKING GOD'S BLESSING.

CHARLIE was going home with his uncle. They were on the steamboat all night. A steamboat is furnished with little beds on each side of the cabin. These little beds are called berths. When it was time to go to bed, Charlie undressed himself.

"Make haste and jump into your berth, boy," cried his uncle.

'May'nt I first kneel down and ask God to take care of us?" asked Charlie.

"We shall be taken care of fast enough," said his uncle.

"Yes, sir," said Charlie; "but mother always tells us not to take anything without first asking."

Uncle Tim had nothing to say to that; and Charlie knelt down, just as he did by his own little bed at home. God's bounty and goodness and grace you live on day by day, my children; but never take it without first asking.

A RIDE WITH A LUNATIC.

THE accidents of railway travelling in England are vividly illustrated by the following incident which happened on a line near London: a young lady got into a second-class carriage, where she was soon joined by a gentleman about thirty years old, whose manner seemed very strange and excited. They were alone in the carriage. As soon as the train had started, this man got up all of a sudden, and began by throwing his carpet-bag out of the window, saying: "This carriage is much too heavy. Come, we must lighten it as much as possible."

He then sat down again, but jumped up a minute after, screaming out: "It's too heavy! It's too heavy!" And, so saying, he sent his coat out of the window to join his carpet-bag, then away went his waistcoat, his cravat, and his shoes! He then sat down

and appeared to be thinking profoundly. All of a sudden he turned towards the young girl, who was as frightened as possible, and said: "On your knees, madam, on your knees! We will pray for the Duke of Gloucester!" And he knelt down.

The poor girl immediately obeyed him. The stranger then began praying fervently for the Duke of Gloucester, then for the Duke of St. Alban's, then for the Duke of York-in a word, for all the Dukes in Great Britain and Ireland. He then sat down again. The young lady, more dead than alive, was in a corner of the carriage, a prey to the most profound terror.

Nevertheless this strange person soon began to feel less quiet. "This can't go on," he said; "it's really much too heavy-much too heavy. The train will soon have to stop-it won't be able to go on. Come now, we must lighten it. One of us must get out. I won't; so supposing you jump out of the window!" And he walked resolutely up to the cowering girl.

But she said to him, crying: "Oh, sir, do stay for one moment; we've not yet prayed for the Duke of Northumberland!"

"You are right, we had forgotten him. On your knees, and let's pray for the Duke of Northumberland!"

They were still in deep prayer when the train arrived at the station, and the young girl fainted in the arms of some friends who were waiting for her.

Her companion was arrested, and soon recognized as a lunatic who had escaped from Hanwell.

SOCIAL LIFE IN INDIA.

SOCIAL LIFE IN INDIA.

To comprehend domestic life among the Hindoos, let us take a look at one of their homes. The family is patriarchal. The father is the head; his sons bring their wives home one after another, the women occupying apartments by themselves. The Hindoo word for woman's apartment is "zenana.” The women of the household mingle freely together, but John never sees the wife of his brother Joseph. Six or eight families, and three or four generations, are sometimes under one roof, and when the house becomes thus populous, the head of the family has quite as much as he can attend to in settling family troubles. Think of

the life of those women. They are wholly ignorant; they know not a letter of their language. Why should a woman learn to read? What would come of it? If they go to visit a neighbour, it must be in a close palanquin, their faces veiled. They know nothing except family gossip. They cannot do the plainest sewing. The little tow-head on the lowest bench of an infant school in England, making patchwork, can use the needle more deftly than most of the millionaire Baboos. Think of your little rosycheeked darling who climbs upon your knee for her good-night kiss being affianced in marriage at the age of five, and at twelve being a bride, shut up for the rest of her days, with nothing to do -no knitting work, no bed-quilts to make, no knowledge of needlework; surrounded with books, yet not knowing a letter; her room a blank wall; her daily duties for the remainder of her life being the performance of her daily paojsa-a worship of a little brass or stone image in the form of a monkey, or a figure with six arins and four faces; hanging flowers around its neck, sprinkling it with water, bowing before it, walking around it, talking to it as little girls do to their dolls, lighting little wax tapers; nothing but this, except to dawdle her children, bring food to her husband, and eat her own, and re-arrange the folds of cloth which answer for a garment; doing this and sleeping the rest of her time, from morning till night, from night till morning, through the twenty-four hours, the weeks, the months, the years, from childhood to old age! Such is the daily, unvarying life of the Hindoo women of the upper classes. The Baboos, who read Shakspeare, who know what is going on in England, even to the rappings of the spirits, who will discuss the theisms of Theodore Parker with you, are beginning to feel that there is an awkward gap in their

AMONG THE CHEROKEES.

system of life. The Hindoo upper classes, who are too intellectual to be grossly sensual Baboos, repudiate Brigham Young. They are not polygamists; they are fond of their wives, and treat them with respect, and love their children, especially if they are sons. But there is no Eve in their paradise. They come home from their counting-room when the day's work is done, read a play from Shakspeare, or Longfellow's last poem, and then comes the reflection that the wife, so far as this is concerned, is an idiot. Many of the Baboos are now anxious to have their wives educated; but the women, knowing nothing of the sweets of knowledge, manifest but little desire to obtain an education. Yet they are desirous of learning embroidery. Those who have undertaken to do something towards raising the women of this land from their degradation, have seized upon this, and are using it to great advantage.

AMONG THE CHEROKEES.

THE Sandusky (Ohio) Register relates a singular incident which happened in Lewiston, Logan county, a few days ago. It appears that thirty-three years ago there lived in Lewiston a farmer named Hopkins, who had a boy between three and four years of age. One day this boy was missing, and could nowhere be found, though hundreds of people turned out to search for him. The river was dragged, and the woods searched, but without avail, and he was given up for lost. A few Indians living in the neighbourhood were so peaceable and friendly that they were not suspected. The Hopkins family left their home and settled in Illinois, and their old neighbours had no expectation of ever seeing any of them again. The astonishment of the old settlers can be conceived, when, week before last, a tall man, browned by exposure to the sun and storm, and speaking the broken English of the half civilized Indians, made his appearance at Lewiston, and claimed to be the child missed thirty-three years ago.

He stated that a Cherokee Indian, wandering through that section, had enticed him from the field as he was going in search of his father, and had carried him to the far West. The old chief had treated him as his own son, and having been taken away at so early an age, the memory of his parents and former life had faded from his mind. For thirty odd years he lived as an Indian, and supposed that he was the son of the old chief who claimed to be

NIGHT AIR NOT INJURIOUS.

his father. A few months since the chief, very advanced in age, found himself on his death-bed. Shortly before he died he called his adopted son to his bedside, and informed him who and what he was. Thereupon, after the old chief was dead and buried, Hopkins repaired to Ohio in search of his parents, who he found had removed to Champaign City, Illinois. His reappearance created quite as much excitement among the old settlers as did his mysterious disappearance a third of a century ago.

NIGHT AIR NOT INJURIOUS.

THERE is a popular prejudice concerning the evil effects of night air, about which a word must be said. In her admirable writings on hygiene and the management of the sick, Miss Nightingale has done much to correct this mistake. It was formerly the universal belief, that the air of night was very injurious. But the fact is, that, except under certain circumstances, it is as healthful, or even more so, than that of the daytime. The night air of large cities, such as London, when the bustle and commotion, which cause it to be loaded with dust particles, is comparatively quelled, and the numerous fires which contaminate it with their smoke are mostly extinguished, is purer than that of the day. Nothing conduces more to healthy sleep than good ventilation, and no mode of ventilation surpasses that obtained by opening a window at the top, by which the influence of draught is avoided, while the upper stratum of air, to which impurities ascend, is certainly renewed. But there is still another reason for at times adopting night, even in preference to day, ventilation. In sultry weather it is a common mistake to open the windows instead of keeping them altogether closed, as is the case in very hot climates. But a little reflection will show that since the height of the thermometer in the sun always greatly exceeds that shown at the same time by another thermometer placed in the shade, by opening the window we admit air much heated into our rooms. proper time, under such circumstances, for ventilation, is during the night, when the external atmosphere has cooled down. By adopting this plan in hot weather, the temperature of a room may always be kept several degrees lower than if the opposite course is pursued.

The