smile. "German lessons, forsooth! If little Maria Chamberlain and Allan Balfour don't become adepts in some other lore than guttural German, then I'm much mistaken, that's all, uncle John. Comedies sometimes have unlooked-for tragic endings; and what should you say, uncle John, if the acquaintance, commenced once upon a time in your dwelling, should some time terminate in a very serious and responsible engagement calling for a clergyman and a ring, in which Maria Chamberlain should sustain the part of wife to the Country Cousin ?"

of sale, or mortgage, but I want you to give me-Carrie Lindsay."

"Aha! so you would take an old man's darling?" said John Balfour with a sad smile. "Well, nephew, I don't wonder you want to gather that sweet flower to your heart. Take her, Ralph, for I can spare her to you now better than I could one year ago, thanks to the lesson which you and Allan gave my wife and daughters at that memorable party last year. Take her, and with her old uncle John's blessing."

"You have made me a happy man this day, uncle John?" exclaimed the young man, grasping his hand enthusiastically. "There, not a word!" said the old man, hastily drawing his hand across his eyes. "Haven't I seen it all along? Ah, that I have, Ralph. But a word about Allan. You know that I gave him the chief clerkship last month; and next spring I intend to take him into the firm-Balfour, Ray & Co.-eh, Ralph ? There's the stuff for a true business man in him. The Chamberlains make a great deal of him; he and Frank are inseparable. But do you know he goes over there to study German with Maria, under her teacher? I used to think you liked Maria yourself, Ralph, eh?"

"Hum, hum, the plot thickens!" replied Ralph, with a

NEW NOTES ON NURSING.

It is our good fortune to have many lady readers; and to women the nursery is an always new, always delightful subject of discussion. This consideration has moved us to put together some of the curiosities of baby nursing-to depict, ere they go out of use and memory, as the once familiar hornbook has gone, some of the many machines invented for baby's benefit and nurse's ease. Of course, it is not a very important subject, but it is an interesting one: all old domestic customs are interesting, especially when they are dying out.

And it cannot be denied that our nurseries have been entirely revolutionized of late, among other things. What has become of its literature, for instance? The strategic Giant-killer, the elegant Valentine, the rude Orson, Cinderella most charming, are all falling back into the limbo of worn-out mythologies; while, as for the nursery rhymes we used to hear, who repeats them now? Not many nurses, not many mammas. Long before the famous New Zealander of the future arrives at London Bridge they will be extinct; and if that savant happens to recover them amongst the ruins of the British Museum, Bloomsbury, he will be even more puzzled over them than with the nursery rhyme written for his savage progenitors by Mr. Punch:

Catch a little white boy,

Catch him by the leg; Cook a little white boy,

Bring the crumbs and egg

What is the rest of it? It ends, you know, with

Put him on the table with the missionary pie!

Of course nothing need be said about the familiar inventions of modern days-nothing, for instance, about the baby-jumper-a machine for the pacification of querulous infancy, which at one time seemed likely to become as universal as the much-abused perambulator is now. Cruik shank proposed, indeed, to give the invention an application which would have extended its benefits throughout the family. Some of our readers may remember an etching of the humorist's in which materfamilias sat darning stockings in peace, while every member of the household

MOSQUITO SCREEN-USED BY EUROPEANS IN INDIA,

-from papa to the baby-was delightfully dozing in a "jumper." However, the machine was not destined for any great success-spite of several improvements, the last of which appears to be giving a "highty-tighty" motion to the chair by means of springs beneath.

Swings are probably as old an institution as infancy; and as it is the fashion now to account for the origin of everything, we have no difficulty in making the suggestion that the art of swinging was originally invented by a monkey. It is a favorite diversion of that ingenious animal, and nature has provided him with a double means of indulging it-in the lithe parasitical plants of monkey countries, and in the possession of a prehensile tail. According to Lord Monboddo's theory, the human race in its infancy may also have enjoyed both these advantages; though the probability is that it did not. However, it is just as likely that the monkey taught the human race to swing as that pigs invented the plough; and it is the opinion of no less a scholar than Mr. Gladstone that the pig's snout, turning up the earth for roots, did suggest to some brilliant savage the construction and use of that important instrument of agriculture. The construction of the swing is naturally very simple; though that which we have engraved is the product of years of civilization. The cross pieces slide up the ropes, baby is placed on the seat, the cross pieces are then hauled down again, and he is as secure as a Chinese thief in his canque. Swings are recommended by the "faculty" in preference to rocking-horses-on mathematical principles. We forget how the difference is made out, but the one determines blood to the head, they say, and the other does not. Both frequently determine the head to the turf-a matter of less importance in ancient times than now, since the skull grows thinner, generation after generation, as civilization advances.

a "go-cart" while in vigorous little hands (or with vigorous little hands in it) that apparatus was constantly coming into collision with you and your furniture in a way surprising and disastrous to all parties-you always knew where to have a baby in a roundabout. There were practical limits to the dear child's enterprise of which he was ignorant, and with which you had many reasons to be satisfied.

The sketch from which our drawing was made was taken at Caistor, in Lincolnshire, seventeen or eighteen years ago. We have since seen in other parts of England-in old country cottages-a hole in the beam above, and another in the floor below, which evidently once accommodated a revolving pole like that shown in our picture. In almost every case, however, the then occupants of the cottage were totally ignorant of what these holes were designed for.

We have also included in our series some ruder schemes. To cage children in a chair turned on its side is a common expedient with the working classes. In the west of Yorkshire, in Lincolnshire, and in Cheshire, the "peggy-tub" is turned to the same account. The " peggy-tub" is so called, we believe, because it is used in connection with a three-legged, or threepegged instrument, churn-wise. There is an obvious danger to baby's chin in all these contrivances; the "go-cart" itself was open to this grave objection, the force of which was found when the pretty prattler lost his footing.

To pad the head is a Devonshire expedient, designed to mitigate the effects of a fall. It is known elsewhere, no doubt; we think we have heard that it is used in Spain. In some cases the pad is placed only at the front and at the back of the head; in others it is continued all round. A band passed over the top of the head keeps it in position.

Lacing the body to a pillow is a German custom. No doubt it is a practice congenial to infants of a lymphatic disposition, with no turn for self-government. Children of British consti

rous.

Most of them are now antiquated, or altogether out of date. "Leading-strings" were at one time almost universally used in the nursery, and to be "still in leading-strings" lives as a byword and a reproach now that they themselves have been long forgotten. Children are often assisted to walk in our own day by a handkerchief or shawl passed round their waists; but the leading-strings of old-such as we have depicted--were contrivances expressly fashioned for the purpose. A band met round the child's chest (where it was fastened by buttons), and to the band the "strings" were attached.

The "go-cart" was a much more complicated apparatus. Its construction-familiar, no doubt, in the memory of many of our readers-is shown in the third picture on page 312. Some of these elaborate engines were made with the top a permanent circle," so that the child had to be dropped within it; others were divided and hinged off, so that could open and close upon the ambitious infant whose first attempts at pedestrianism it was intended to facilitate. There was another sort of "go-cart," not unlike a small double towel-horse; and some were made of wicker-work.

"Go-carts" are shown in many Italian and French pictures; and the machine, slightly varied, seems to have been commonly used throughout Europe for several centuries. In the picture of "Infancy"-the first of a set of four in the National Gallery, the productions of Lancret, who died in 1745-the "gocart" figures. It is of much the same shape as that shown in our engraving; the chief difference being that Lancret's " gocart" does not run on castors, but on fixed wheels.

since they were emancipated from the intolerable tyranny of swaddling bands-the relics of an effete barbarism extending back to the feudal period-and the nurse who now attempted to fetter an English infant with them again would find herself grievously mistaken. Still we cannot but applaud the pillow contrivance for little Dutchmen.

The mothers of Southern Italy sometimes bind up their infants, too, like mummies; but their children are livelier and less plump than those of Germany, and so, with a certain propriety, they are lashed, not to a pillow, but to a board. A hole is drilled at the head of the board, and by this means the little dear can be suspended to the wall, or hung out on a branch like peaches or canary birds. We often hear of the ripe South; this is how they ripen children through the sour period of teething. Provided with a rattle, they are themselves able to scare away the birds, and it is not till a later period that they are henpecked. That the musical capacity of southern Italians had originally anything to do with the practice of suspending them among the branches, we have no authority for supposing.

Indian squaws, and squaws of several other countries, in fact, follow a similar custom. The Sioux Indians, at any rate, do so, though the practice is not known among other North American tribes. The little Sioux is lashed to a straight board by bandages which are laced tight behind with thongs. Its feet rest on a broad hoop passed round the bottom of the board. The Sioux mother is passionately fond, and many an hour she spends in decorating baby's cradle with porcupine quills, the teeth of various animals in quaint devices, and the figures of

Michael Angelo, in his old age (he was modest as well as great), drew the figure of an old man in a "go-cart," and wrote beneath it 'Ancora impara" (still learning). We have had painters since who appear never to have seen the force of this design.

The Roundabout, represented in the larger engraving on this page, was a contrivance far less common than the "go-cart," though it was almost as ingenious. To be sure, there was this objection to it, that going rapidly round and round a pole, at a distance of a couple of feet or so, is likely to produce giddiness, and even, perhaps, to addle infant brains. On the other hand, while it is impossible to calculate the orbit of a phenomenon in

and a larger hoop is stretched over the child's head; this serves the double purpose of protecting its face in the event of a fall, and as a screen against the weather. Besides, a toy may be conveniently hung from the canopy for baby to play with. When mamma has to travel, however, the toy is taken away, and baby's arms bound to his sides as an additional safeguard against the effects of tumbling. How the child is carried from place to place may be seen in our engraving. A strap or broad strip of hide is passed round the back of the board and over the mother's forehead, as porters sometimes use to carry their loads. In this way the child is confined for seven months; it is then released and carried in the folds of a blanket at the mother's back. Should the infant die before it reaches the age of seven

"I am also informed by Colonel Reynolds, that since then we have gathered as much more, so that we shall have reaped here, up to the date of my letter, above thirty thousand bales. I must not forget to add that Mr. Pierce has been appointed assistant to the Colonel.

“The work of ginning, picking, packing, bagging and shipping, is performed by the negroes here, who work cheerfully and efficiently, receiving from Uncle Sam food, clothing and a trifle as wages. I am convinced that negroes are accessible to a firm kindness as well as to the rod of terror.

"Mr. Salisbury informs me that the Mayflower alone has collected upwards of $150,000 worth of cotton. After she had collected a certain quantity of cotton from the different plantations on the islands, she discharged her cargo into one of the Government streamers at anchor off Port Royal, such as the Atlantic, Baltic, Vanderbilt, &c., and steams away with it to New York.

"The McCarthy steam gin is considered as the model machinery for this kind of work, and two hundred pounds is the daily quantity one of them can accomplish.

"I do not trouble you with a long essay upon cotton, as some prosy specials might do, remembering that Mr. Squier has written a book upon the subject, nor will I tell you that the word 'cotton' is taken from an Ethiopic word, and that Whitworth's gin, which separates the cotton from the seed, is the invention of a Yankee. I shall conclude now with the hope that my sketches will make the rise and progress of cotton clear to all

your readers."

The Sea Island cotton is planted in March, and is in full bloom in September and October. When our troops landed at Port Royal in November, the greater proportion of the cotton was gathered; what was still on the field was taken charge of by our officers, and gathered under their superintendence.

JAPANESE PIGS.

THE engraving thus entitled represents some very curious specimens of the porcine tribe which are now in the possession of Mr. C. Jamrach, of Ratcliff-highway, London, a well-known importer of wild and rare animals. It is stated that they have qualities which would render their mixture with our native breeds advantageous.

At any rate, the Acclimatization Society of Vienna has already availed itself of the opportunity of securing some of these pigs, so that there is a probability of their becoming familiar in Europe.

When referring to an importation of domestic animals from Japan, it may be worth while to notice that Steinmitz, an accredited writer on that country, in a work published not very long ago, states that, though abundantly stocked with pictures and carvings of dragons, and all sorts of monsters, borrowed from the Chinese, the Japanese empire is but sparingly provided with four-footed beasts, wild or tame.

The country is too much cultivated and peopled to afford cover to the wild quadrupeds, and the tame are bred only for carriage and agriculture. The use of animal food is interdicted by the national religion, and they have not left pasture enough to support many sheep and oxen. "They have a few swine, which were brought over from China, and which some of the country people near the coast still keep, not indeed for their own use, but to sell to certain Chinese junks which are allowed to come over and trade, most of the Chinese mariners being addicted to pork."

However this may be, it would appear from a statement of the same writer that some pains have been taken by the Japanese with these animals, for he says that Sir Edward Belcher, when at Japan, "was supplied with some hogs that were overwhelmed with their own fat, and weighed about one hundred and fifty pounds."

The Japanese idea of the bringing up of the pig seems to be akin to that which produces the specimens which we see at the annual cattle show in London.

THE Prince Imperial, though only five years and a half old, already speaks three foreign languages-English, German and Italian.

GARIBALDI AT HOME.

A TURIN letter of January 8 gives the following interesting account of Garibaldi at home:

We found him planting fig-trees in his island. "We must make haste," he said, "for spring is approaching." The idea of something to be done in the spring now appears continually in every word that Garibaldi says. He may be often seen on the peak of one of the rocks of the island, studying the vast real map spread before him, and contemplating the far distant horizon, as if seeking for a landing point.

The colony of Caprera has been somewhat augmented within these last few days. M. and Madame Deiden, old friends of Garibaldi, have returned; the general is surrounded by his children; Ricciotti has left London to remain constantly with his father and Theriseta, who, with her husband, is passing the winter at Caprera. Theriseta has her piano in the house. She is a good musician, and Garibaldi himself, though music is not a pursuit with him, has one of the sweetest voices in the world. It is quite a sight to see the way he draws himself up when to his daughter sings the war-song from the Puritani

Suoni la tromba intrepido, Io pugnero da forte.

Colonel Deiden has just set up the iron house which was sent over from England to Garibaldi. It is a little wonder. Every piece fits in and takes out as neatly as in a baby-house. There are no less than six rooms in this moveable habitation. It has been set up in a shady place, otherwise the metal roof would have rendered it unhabitable under the hot sun of Caprera. As it is, there is a talk of covering it with a thatch. Garibaldi is building a wing to his own very small mansion, and does the principal mason's work in fashioning the stones himself. Glaziers visit Caprera very seldom ; a recent storm broke several windows, which are at this moment stuffed up with paper. Presents to Garibaldi arrive frequently, and are very useful, for the three thousand livres a year which he has to live upon are a poor provision for all his household. He has to feed, on an average, fifteen people a day.

THE SICK IN BED.-With a proper supply of windows, and a proper supply of fuel in open fireplaces, fresh air is comparatively easy to secure when your patient or patients are in bed. Never be afraid to open windows then. People don't catch cold in bed. With proper bedclothes, and hot bottles, if necessary, you can always keep a patient warm in bed, and well ventilate him at the same time. Never to allow a patient to be waked intentionally or accidentally is a sine quâ non of all good nursing. If he is roused out of his first sleep, he is alintelligible fact, that if a patient is waked after a few hours' inmost certain to have no more sleep. It is a curious but quite stead of a few minutes' sleep, he is much more likely to sleep again; because pain, like irritability of brain, perpetuates itself. If you have gained a respite of either in sleep, you have gained more than the mere respite. Both the probability of recurrence and of the same intensity will be diminished, whereas both will be terribly increased by want of sleep. This is the reason why a patient, waked in the early part of his sleep, loses not only his sleep, but his power to sleep. The more the sick sleep, the better will they be able to sleep. A good nurse will always make sure that no door or window in her patient's

room shall rattle or creak; that no blind or curtain shall, by any change of wind through the open window, be made to flap; especially will she be careful of all this before she leaves her patient for the night. If you wait till your patient teils you or reminds you of these things, where is the use of his having a nurse?-Florence Nightingale.

AGAR said, "Give me neither poverty nor riches," and this will ever be the prayer of the wise. Our incomes should be like our shoes; if too small, they will gall and pinch us; but if too large, they will cause us to stumble and to trip. But wealth, after all, is a relative thing, since he that has little, and wants less, is richer than he that has much, but wants more. True contentment depends not upon what we have, but upon what we would have. ` A tub was large enough for Diogenes, but a world was too little for Alexander.