oward the future,
They longed to hail the light,
That in after centuries
Would rise on Christmas nights.

But still the Saviour tarried
In His Father's home,
And the nations wept and wondered why
The promised had not come.

At last earth's prayer was granted,
And God was a child of earth,
And a thousand angels chanted
The lowly midnight birth.

Ah! Bethlehem was grander
That hour, than Paradise;
And the light of earth, that night, eclipsed
The splendors of the skies.

ABRAM J. RYAN.

Abolishing Barmaids.

A bill "for the Abolition of Barmaids" sounds like a joke from "Alice in
Wonderland," or from one of Mr. Gilbert's burlesques. Nevertheless it is
a serious legislative proposal now pending before the Parliament of
Victoria. It is actually in print, and makes it penal for any keeper of
a public house to employ women behind the counter. Of course, the
advocates of this astonishing idea have their arguments. They do not go
quite as far as Sir Wilfrid Lawson, who would disestablish not only
barmaids, but barmen and bars; they would not shut up all dram-shops;
but they would make them as dreary as possible, so as to repel
impressionable young men. In Gothenburg the spirit-drinker is served by
a policeman, who keeps an eagle eye upon him that he may know him again,
and refuse him a second glass if he asks for it before a certain
interval has expired. The Victorian reformers have a corresponding idea
of diminishing the attractions of intoxication by surrounding the
initial stages with repellent rather than enticing accessories. Instead
of the smiling Hebes who have fascinated the golden youth of the colony,
men will serve as tapsters, and without note or comment hand across the
counter the required draught. The effect may be considerable, as male
drinkers do undoubtedly take a delight in the pleasant looks and bright
talk of the young ladies who, as the French say, "preside" at these
establishments. But should not the Victorian apostles of abstinence go
further? It is well to replace girls by men, and thus subdue the bar to
masculine dullness; but could not the Act of Parliament go on to declare
that none save plain, grim-visaged males should be tolerated as
assistants? The most inveterate toper might hesitate to enter twice if
he were always met by the ugly aspect of some dark, forbidding
countenance. A kind o