uble to keep them so. The brow, the fair front, need never be
furrowed. Of all we meet in the street, very few have tranquil,
undistorted faces: the old are screwed out of shape, the young are
going to be so. A well-preserved beauty is one who neither puckers her
face into wrinkles nor mauls it with her hands: she never buries her
knuckles in her cheeks, nor rests cheek on palm or chin on hand, nor
folds her fingers around her forehead while reading, nor rubs her
"argent-lidded eyes." She veils her face from the wind; she does not
work with uncovered neck and arms: therefore they do not become tawny.
She avoids immoderate toil, which makes the hair to fall, the features
sharp, the skin clammy and yellow. She avoids immoderate laziness, as
causing obesity and a greasy complexion or pallor, lassitude and loss
of vitality. Such are; the difficulties of being agreeable.

M. D.

OUR SUB-GARDENER.

He who doubts that civilized progress and industry is beneficial to
birds, and promotes their comfort and multiplication, never saw
the robin and the purple grakle following the plough on a summer's
morning. The ploughman is not more punctually afield than his unbidden
but welcome feathered attendants. They are ahead of him, perched
patiently in the trees that dot fence or hedgerow. They see the team
afar off, and as the gate rattles in opening for its admission the
glad tidings is sent down the line in whistle or chirrup, the most
musical of breakfast-bells. The worm that but for the intrusive
ploughshare would blush unseen beneath the soil, and but for
the feathered detective on the lookout for him would regain his
subterranean retreat, might take a less cheery view of the philosophy
of the matter; but he too is, taken collectively, favored by tillage
and fattens on high-farming like an English squire. But we are not
at present occupied with his feelings. Somebody must suffer in the
battledore game of eat and be eaten, and we shall let the chain of
continuous destruction rest here with the grub that reaps where he
hath not sown. Horse, man and bird are honestly and harmoniously
picking up a living at the expense of a fourth party that also thrives
in the long run.

Not many of us get out with the plough at the orthodox hour of
sunrise. It is a privilege few, comparatively, possess, and fewer
still enjoy. The doctors recommend it warmly, on the ground that,
though perhaps productive of rheumatism, it is death to dyspeps