surreptitiously takes the names for future recognizance, and woe be to the unfortunate swain whom forgetfulness or too much occupation may have prevented from paying his respects; he will surely be left out of the list of invites for the next ball. And yet, poor unfortunate, he cannot leave the house without taking from the hand of the fair lady of the house a glass of wine, and that offer he was expected to accept perhaps at twenty or thirty houses. A year or two later it was considered bon ton to offer nothing in the parlor, but an obsequious waiter tendered ale, wines and other delicacies, catching the departing visitor in a parlor near the hall door. This was something better. A gentleman could refuse a waiter’s demand—not so easily a lady’s. Still later, about fifteen years ago, I well remember the Rev. Mr. Hébert, of Kamouraska, asking as a personal favor and a mark of respect to himself that none of his parishioners should offer temptation to the weak in the form of stimulant to New Year’s visitors, and he very lucidly expressed himself in these terms: "You say some of you are advised by your physician to take wine, well, that is all right, and put your liquor beside your pills, and as you do not think it necessary to give physic to all your friends because the doctor orders it for you, neither do I think the tonic that may do you good necessary to sow broadcast to those to whom it may prove a bitter poison." This was particularly hard on a character in the village we had dubbed Monseigneur because he served a former Bishop, and being wealthy he piqued himself on bringing something new for New Year, and his last purchase had been a valuable liquor stand. He was heart-broken. Being a very pious man he was deeply chagrined to think he could not display his new purchase, till he was once more elevated to the summit of happiness by the suggestion that raspberry vinegar, lime juice and lemon syrup would look equally well in his fine caraffe. *A POINT OF HONOR.*