ORIGIN OF THE FLOWER “FORGET-ME-NOT.”--Mills, in his work on chivalry, mentions that the beautiful little flower “forget-me-not,” was known in England as early as Edward the Fourth, and in a note gives the following pretty incident: “Two lovers were loitering along the margin of a lake on a fine summer’s evening, when the maiden discovered some flowers growing in the water close to the bank of an island at some distance from the shore. She expressed a desire to possess them, when her knight, in the true spirit of chivalry, plunged into the water, and, swimming to the spot, cropped the wished-for plant; but his strength was unable to fulfil the object of his achievement; and feeling that he could not regain the shore, although very near it, he threw the flowers on the bank, and casting a last affectionate look on his lady-love, said, ‘Forget me not,’ and was buried in the water.” * * * * * PIGS.--The editor of the New York Sunday Mercury appears to hold young pigs in very high esteem, having dedicated a piece of poetry entirely to juvenile porkers. He intimates, however, that he should like them better, if they didn’t _make hogs of themselves_ when they grew up. [Illustration: Frederick II.] Frederick II. This king of Prussia, who acquired the title of _the great_, was born on the 24th of January, 1712. He was reared in the school of adversity; his father, Frederick William, being a brutal tyrant, even in his own family. To escape from this domestic tyranny, which was almost insupportable, he planned a clandestine flight from Prussia, with a confidant by the name of De Katt. His father discovered this before it could be carried into effect. The consequence was, that Frederick was arrested along with his friend, and both were instantly tried before an obedient court-martial, which condemned them to death. This sentence would have been carried into effect against the Prince, but for the interposition of Charles the VIth, of Austria, to whose earnest entreaties Frederick William at length yielded, with the prophetic remark that “Austria would one day discover what a serpent she had nourished in her bosom.” The prince, however, suffered a long and severe imprisonment, in the fort of Custrin, where, as if to aggravate his punishment, the unfortunate De Katt was beheaded on a scaffold, raised before his apartment, to the level of the window, from which he was compelled to witness this cruel and afflicting spectacle. His subsequent treatment in prison was as harsh and severe as that of the meanest felon, and a considerable time elapsed before he found the means of softening its rigor.