An old-fashioned telegraphic arrangement for transmitting from one person to another various sensations that cannot be transmitted correctly by any other medium known.

Nature's Volapuk-the universal language of love.

A woman's trump card in a game of love.

An article that is always accepted and (im) printed, but not always published.

The action of the lips by which the real sentiments of the heart are either affectionately expressed or falsely disguised.

I am just two and two, I am warm, I am cold,

And the parent of numbers that cannot be told.

I am lawful-unlawful-a duty, a fault, I am often sold dear-good for nothing when bought.

An extraordinary boon and a matter of course,

And yielded with pleasure when taken by force.

A gift which is sometimes expected, seldom rejected, though often returned. A speech without words.

A lip salve often tried as a specific in affections of the heart.

The missing link between body and soul.

The only delight of the gods that mortals have been permitted to enjoy. The safety-valve to an exuberance of tender feelings.

The lovers' privilege and the pug dog's right.

What the child gives, the lover steals, the foolish waste and the old value.

The most popular lip salve on the present day.

A tonic which in childhood may be administered with safety, but with great caution when childhood is past.

The lover's flag of truce after a quarrel.

Love's happiest expression and sorrow's tenderest balm.

A cannon off the red.

The anatomical juxtaposition of two orbicularis oris muscles in a state on contraction.

A good impression made by the seal of love.

It is like the wind that blows-it is felt but not seen.

The "pons asinorum "of courtship. A demonstration of love which will dry the baby's tears, thrill the maiden's heart and soothe the ruffled feelings of a tired wife.

A smack for catching the matrimonial fish.

The sovereign tincture in our household dispensary.

What man struggles for before marriage, what woman struggles for after marriage.

Draughts of nectar from the lips of innocence.

Cupid's crushing smack, the crews of which are generally love-sick.

The striking of a love-match.

A simple thing in which a whole world of meaning is sometimes hidden. The stars in the firmament of love. The best plaster for the wounds given in domestic tilts.

The poorest mother's richest gift.
A cheeky application,

A kiss resembles a short sermon, consisting of two heads and an application. Cupid's sealing wax.

The essence of tu-lips (two lips). The only gift a generous lover likes to get back again.

Temporary facial friction generating instantaneous rapture and bliss.

The soul's ambassador.

The dew gathered from the lips of earth's fairest flowers.

A game for two, always in fashion. A rock in the sea of life, on which the good ship Bachelor was wrecked. The cream of courtship.

That which is exchanged between two persons, is something while in the act of exchanging, nothing after the exchange is made, and for which neither can show value received.

Matrimonial bird-lime.

A kiss is love's press telegram. The heart's thirst appeased at the fountain of a loved one's lips.

Woman's food, man's luxury, boy's physic.

A lubricant, without which the machinery of love gets rusty.

An unspeakable communication.

TRYING TO FORGET.

I HAVE said that I would forget the past
And the sweet, sweet days gone by,
Forget the love that I fondly dreamed
Would be mine through eternity.
I have tried to forget it all, I say,
But sweet visions will rise
Of a boyish face, so dear to me,

With its loving, laughing eyes.

The tender words I have heard so oft, Still ring through heart and brain, They ring and sting, till my pulses throb

With a bitter, maddening pain. Yet why should I think of those broken

VOWS

With such passionate regret,

I must rise above and beyond it all, But I cannot quite forget.

I cannot keep those sweet memories back,

They are far too strong for me, They come and go, they rise and fall, Like the waves of a troubled sea,

But yet I know in some future time, Though scattered and wrecked by the blast,

Though tossed about by the waters wild, I shall reach a haven at last.

I shall reach the haven "where still waters lie,"

Where no memories the world can fret,
And only then when my life is o'er
Can ever my friend forget.

AN OLD-FASHIONED CALENDAR.
THIRTY days has September,
April, June, and November,
All the rest have thirty-one,
Save February alone,

Which has but twenty-eight, in fine,
Till leap year gives it twenty-nine.

Sixty seconds make a minute,
Sixty minutes make an hour,
If I were a little linnet

Hopping in her lofty bower,
Then I should not have to sing it,
Sixty seconds make a minute.
Twenty-four hours make a day,

Seven days will make a week, And while we all at marbles play,

Or run at cunning "hide and seek," Or in the garden gather flowers, We'll tell the time that makes the hours.

In every month the weeks are four,

And twelve whole months will make

And the wind, full west,
Brings a vague unrest,
Then wait for the afterglow.

Oh, wait for the afterglow

When the heart of the earth beats slow !

One pause it must tell
All its hidden spell

In the light of the afterglow.

Oh, wait for the afterglow

When the light of this life sinks low,
And the long day dies

In the half-drawn sighs,
Then wait for the afterglow.

Oh, wait for the afterglow

When with hand clasped in hand we'll go Toward the tender west

And in perfect rest,

Then wait for the afterglow.

Oh, wait for the afterglow

When the pulse of this life beats low,
And we know so well
What it meant to tell,
In the light of the afterglow.

-GEORGIA E. BENNETT IN KEOKUK (Iowa)
Unitarian Calendar.

THOUGHTS OF OTHER DAYS. THERE'S a good old sacred mem'ry that is hangin' round the past, And it kinder sweetens livin' anywhere your lot is cast;

The burden that you carry may be growin' mighty great,

But that good old by-gone feelin' sorter lightens up the weight.

No matter about your raisin'—whether poor or whether good,

Somehow a feller likes it when he looks back, and he should ;

Because you then were livin' as you'll never live again—

And that good old by-gone feelin' is of pleasure and of pain.

So many of us wander from our boyhood's happy home,

And we never find another, though for years and years we roam; Our hearts grow cold and stony from the storms of all these years, But that good old by-gone feelin' often fills our hearts with tears.

THE DRUMMER'S GRIP.

THOUGH the rain and sleet are falling, And the roads are "awful muddy,' Though all men "hard times" are bawling,

Though a fellow's nose gets ruddy, Though the rivers may be frozen, And the frosts may bite and nip, They can never stop the advent

Of the drummer and his grip.

Though the trains may all be smashing,
Though the horses all go lame,
The drummer, like the bed-bug,
Will get there just the same,
And when his time is over

Will come smiling from his trip,
For he always "makes connections,"
Does the drummer with his grip.

Ah, he teaches us a lesson,
With his energy and grit,
Things that "paralyze "most people
Don't astonish him a bit.

And he's ever bright and cheerful
And a smile is on his lip,
He's a daisy from away back,

Is the drummer with his grip.
Give him a kind word always,

He'll give you back the same, For the doings of some "black sheep" Don't give the whole tribe blame, For down, clear down to Hades Some so-called "GOOD MEN" slip, While along the road to Heaven

Goes the drummer with his grip.

WHY EVE HAD NO HELP.

A LADY furnishes some of the reasons why Eve did not keep a hired girl.

There has been much said about the faults of women and why they need so much waiting on. Some one (a man, of course,) has the presumption to ask : "Why, when Eve was manufactured of a spare rib, a servant was not made at the same time to wait on her?" She didn't need any. Adam never came whining at Eve with a ragged sock to be darned, buttons to be sewed on, gloves to be mended right away-quick now! because he never read the papers until the sun went down behind trees, and stretching himself yawned out, Isn't supper ready, my dear?' Not he. He made the fire and hung the kettle over it himself, we'll venture, and pulled the radishes, peeled the potatoes and did everything else he ought to do.

He milked the cow, and fed the chickens, and looked after the pigs himself, and never brought half a dozen friends to dinner when Eve hadn't any fresh pomegranates. He never stayed out until eleven o'clock at night, and then scolded poor Eve who was sitting up and crying inside the gate. He never loafed around corner groceries while poor Eve was rocking little Cain's cradle at home. He did not call Eve up from the cellar to get his slippers and find them in a corner where he left them. Not he. When he took them off he put them under a fig-tree beside his Sunday boots. In short, he did not think she was especially created for the purpose of waiting on him, and he wasn't under the impression that it disgraced a man to lighten his wife's cares a little. That's the reason Eve didn't need a hired girl, and without it her descendants did."

A GENTLEMAN, whose life had been stormy in its yesterday, and threatened to be tumultuous in its to-morrow, visited a friend. On being shown to the guest chamber his eyes fell upon the following "Good Night," a beautiful motto for such an apartment :

Sleep sweetly in this quiet room,
O thou, whoe'er thou art,
And let no mournful yesterdays

Disturb thy peaceful heart;
Nor let to-morrow scare thy rest
With dreams of coming ill;
Thy Saviour is thy changeless friend,
His love surrounds thee still.
Forget thyself with all the world,

Put out each glaring light;
God's stars are shining overhead
And He can give Good Night.
He cares for every weary one,

In peace the soul can keep,
And when we miss the earthly sun,
Give His beloved sleep,
Good Night!

SOME OF THESE DAYS.

SOME of these days all the skies will be brighter;

Some of these days all the burdens be

lighter;