While we were purchasing some trifles to bring home to some of our servants, a lady, who had entertained us most kindly at her house on Fifth Avenue, expressing surprise, said: "_We_ never think of bringing home presents to our 'helps.'" This was the first time we had ever heard, instead of "servant," the word "help," which seemed then--and still seems--misapplied. The dictionaries define "help" to mean aid; assistance; remedy, while "servant" means one who attends another, and acts at his command. When a man pays another to "help" him, it implies he is to do part of the work himself, and is dishonest if he leaves the whole to be performed by his "help." The word servant is an honest Bible word, and distinctly defines a position. Noah did not say: "Cursed be Cain, a 'help' of 'helps' shall he be to his brethren." Nor did Abraham call his eldest "servant," although ruling over all he had, his "help." Neither does the Commandment say thy "man-help" or thy "maid-help." The word "servant" seems, after the lapse of centuries, still applied with the same meaning by St. Paul, who does not say, "Master, give unto your 'helps' that which is equal;" or, "Let as many 'helps' as are under the yoke count their own masters worthy of all honor." The words "master and servant" thus lose their true significance. Among other discoveries during this visit we found how much more talent it requires to entertain company in the country than the city. In the latter the guests and family form no "social circle round the blazing hearth" at night, but disperse far and wide, to be entertained at the concert, the opera, the theater or club; while in the country one depends entirely upon native intellect and conversational talent. And oh! the memory of our own fireside circles! The exquisite women; the men of giant intellect, eloquence and wit at sundry times assembled there! Could our andirons but utter speech what could they not tell of mirth and song, eloquence and wit, whose flow made many an evening bright. Well, as all delights must have an end, the time came for us to leave these "scenes enchanting." Bidding adieu forever to the land of "modern appliances" and stale bread, we returned to the land flowing with "old ham and corn cakes," and were soon surrounded by friends who came to hear the marvels we had to relate. How monotonous, how dull, prosy, inconvenient everything seemed after our plunge into modern life! We told old Virginia about all the enterprise we had seen; and how she was left far behind everybody and everything, urging her to join at once the "march of material progress." But the mother of States persisted in sitting contentedly over her old fashioned wood fire with brass andirons, and while thus musing these words fell slowly and distinctly from her lips: