THE nicest ride I had while in New York was along Fifth Avenue. We started at Washington Square and went up to Central Park. It is almost three miles, and all the way there were such beautiful houses and churches to look at, and the road was as smooth as the floor. We passed the white marble house built by A. T. Stewart; it cost three million dollars, and the people who now rent it pay thirty-seven thousand dollars a year for it. Only think! and we get three hundred a year for our house, and call it a good rent; but then, it didn’t cost three millions. Then we passed the elegant Vanderbilt houses, and the magnificent Lenox Library building, and O, dear! I can’t think what others. I thought I knew a great deal about them when I began, but they are all mixed up in my mind. But what I wanted to say was, that the drive from Washington Square away up to Eighty-first Street must certainly be the very splendidest in the world. I know I never saw so many beautiful buildings before; and I do like grand houses and grand churches and everything. KATE W. GLOVER. [Illustration: FIFTH AVENUE.] [It has been very difficult to select items for this paper, because of the wealth of objects to choose from. We could make the article twice as long just as well as not, out of the material we have, if there were only room for it in the magazine. Also, some of the best and brightest items have been omitted, and others perhaps not quite so interesting chosen in their place, because they spoke of some building which we could show you in picture. The Pansies will understand, I hope, that we fully appreciate their efforts to help us, and that we enjoy the many items which we do not use quite as much as those we select. But do please be more prompt with your letters.—EDITORS.] THE MORROW. OF all the tender guards which Jesus drew About our frail humanity, to stay The pressure and the jostle that alway Are ready to disturb, whate’er we do, And mar the work our hands would carry through, None more than this environs us each day With kindly wardenship—“Therefore, I say, Take no thought for the morrow.” Yet we pay The wisdom scanty heed, and impotent To bear the burden of the imperious Now, Assume the future’s exigence unsent. God grants no overplus of power; ’tis shed Like morning manna. Yet we dare to bow And ask, “Give us to-day our morrow’s bread!” —_Selected._ MAJOR’S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. III. IT is a nice light night, and if you youngsters have stared long enough at the moon, since neighbor Sport has come to call we will try to be a little more social. Pet and Spot and Curley may play on the lawn if they choose, and have as good a time as they like. You have come to ask my advice, have you, Sport?