tight as an umbrella? The beasts fare
better, being clothed in hides. Those whom we oftenest see out in rains
(cows and oxen and horses) keep straight on with their perpetual munching,
as content wet as dry, though occasionally we see them accept the partial
shelter of a tree from a particularly hard shower.

Hens are the forlornest of all created animals when it rains. Who can help
laughing at sight of a flock of them huddled up under lee of a barn, limp,
draggled, spiritless, shifting from one leg to the other, with their silly
heads hanging inert to right or left, looking as if they would die for
want of a yawn? One sees just such groups of other two-legged creatures in
parlors, under similar circumstances. The truth is, a hen's life at best
seems poorer than that of any other known animal. Except when she is
setting, I cannot help having a contempt for her. This also has been
recognized by that common instinct of people which goes to the making of
proverbs; for "Hen's time ain't worth much" is a common saying among
farmers' wives. How she dawdles about all day, with her eyes not an inch
from the ground, forever scratching and feeding in dirtiest places,--a
sort of animated muck-rake, with a mouth and an alimentary canal! No
wonder such an inane creature is wretched when it rains, and her soulless
business is interrupted. She is, I think, likest of all to the human
beings, men or women, who do not know what to do with themselves on rainy
days.

Friends of the Prisoners.

In many of the Paris prisons is to be seen a long, dreary room, through
the middle of which are built two high walls of iron grating, enclosing a
space of some three feet in width.

A stranger visiting the prison for the first time would find it hard to
divine for what purpose these walls of grating had been built. But on the
appointed days when the friends of the prisoners are allowed to enter the
prison, their use is sadly evident. It would not be safe to permit wives
and husbands, and mothers and sons, to clasp hands in unrestrained
freedom. A tiny file, a skein of silk, can open prison-doors and set
captives free; love's ingenuity will circumvent tyranny and fetters, in
spite of all possible precautions. Therefore the vigilant authority says,
"You may see, but not touch; there shall be no possible opportunity for an
instrument of escape to be given; at more than arm's length the wife, the
mother must be held." The prisoners are led