flies to her back hair. Heavens! there is so much gone there that she
shrieks in alarm! Her fall in the water has detached her Waterfall!
_That_ gone, every thing is gone! She springs to her feet! Glancing
hurriedly over the watery waste, now plentifully strewn with fans,
little canes, and certain objects which are either mail-bags or
_chignons_, she descries her better part, and with a wild cry, (as when
a mother rescues her babe from tigers,) dashes in and seizes the darling
object! She presses it to her lips, and impetuously breaks for the
shore! Alas! too late, by about ten and a half seconds! "Save it!" she
seems to cry; tosses the wad ashore, and down she goes, with her hand on
the back of her head, her last thoughts, evidently, more or less,
connected with that sympathizing young man on the bank above.

_D._ Father, you talk like a brute! Have you no feeling? Boo-hoo
hoo-hoo!

_F._ Child, I am _all_ feeling. Boo-hoo-hoo-too!

* * * * *

HORTICULTURAL HINTS.

KITCHEN GARDEN.--Plant pickles early, if you are up in time; if not,
later. But don't eat them late, unless you are equally fond of
dyspepsia.

In planting peas, select that kind that does not grow hard and yellow;
that is, unless you supply boarding-houses, or have a government
contract for the supply of shot.