Ah! that will ever be the day of days to me. And with it are enshrined in fadeless green, the names of many whose eyes have long been closed upon the wars and joys of this earth. Not the least dear among these will ever be old Scipio, who loved us better than his own freedom; who stood by us in the day of trial, and was faithful till death to the charge of a master who could never return to take account of his stewardship. He was grandiloquent, insisted on spectacles, though he generally read the hymns upside down; wore a collar on Sundays that would put our modern dudes to naught; but he was a prophet, for all that, and saw farther than most men into the future. We trust he has honor now in his own country; while in our hearts his memory will yearly ring the chimes of Christmas bells. Celine McCay. THE RESULT. (November 6th, 1888.) We have no longer Uncle Sam, Nor yet our Yankee-doodle; The first is but an Uncle Sham, The last is Yankee-boodle. James McCarroll. SILK CULTURE. "There are so many persons thirsting for information," I says to Mrs. Wrigglesniff, "let's tell them all about it." It was always my way to stir in something useful with what was agreeable; and here was an opportunity, while pursuing an avocation that was at once pleasant and lucrative, to bring forward at the same time, an illustration of those great economic and philosophic principles, that lie at the foundation of all government and are the ground-work of the social fabric. The tariff, although an intricate subject, I felt was one that could be elucidated by simple exemplification in practical life; and so I opened up to her one day, by remarking upon the great importance of fostering our "infant industries." That most efficient mother was nursing the baby at the time. The baby was four weeks old, weighed sixteen pounds, and could partake of more nourishment at nature's fountain, than any two ordinary pair of twins. "Infant industry! here's one now," observed Mrs. W., gazing with maternal fondness upon the lusty native American in her lap, who was tugging away with a zeal quite amazing. You should first understand, however, that Mrs. W. is a superior woman "as has got intellect into her," as her uncle John Fetherly Brown was wont to say. Her father's second cousin was a half-brother to Noah Webster, and she has, therefore, inherited some of the qualities of that distinguished philosopher. I proposed the subject to her one day, in a genial sort of a way, and she said, "W.," says she, "You're a fool! Silk indeed!" She always calls me "W.," as the whole of it makes it too long, and being a practical woman, she is aware that life is short. I could not help admiring the promptness with which Mrs. W. arrived at her conclusions; and as she is a most excellent judge of human nature, I changed the subject, not wishing to exasperate her.