About eleven years ago, out in the country, near Louisville, there was born a little colored girl. She was her father's first child, and he was justly proud of her, and calculated that there must be some fitting name for her somewhere, and that he must get it out of a book. He could not read, but he could spell a little, and therefore he got him a copy of Webster's blue-backed speller, and spelled the book half way through until he found the word "heterogeneous;" therefore that little girl was christened "Heterogeneous." This morning this programme was handed to me, and I saw on it "Chinese, Indian, Negro, White;" and I couldn't help thinking of Heterogeneous. As I looked over the subjects, and thought that I would have to speak about something, I thought that "Chinese, Indian, White man and Negro," was quite a subject for a speech. But I was inclined to be fair, like a certain minister, who was always preaching on infant baptism. He preached on infant baptism, no matter what the text was. The deacons and the people of the church got tired of it, and they concluded to give him some text that would relate to facts, before there were any infants. So they turned to the Book of Genesis, and found the text "Adam, where art thou?" And when the minister came to the pulpit Sunday morning, the deacons gave this text to him and told him, "Here is a text we want you to preach upon." He demurred a little and wondered why they had not given him more time, but finally concluded to preach on this text. He got up and said: "There are three points in this text: First, that men are always somewhere; second, that they are very often where they ought not to be; third, the text is dead set against infant baptism; and as the time is short, I will speak on point third." Now, I said to myself that either of these themes was a worthy one; but as Chinese comes first, Indian second, and Negro third, and, as the time is brief, I will speak on point third. Not long ago I saw in an illustrated paper President Harrison with his Cabinet, represented as all lolling over asleep; and in the group there stood a Negro, his mouth open, his collar open, his teeth showing, and with a large scroll in his hand. Beneath this picture was this remark: "Wake up to the question of the day," and on that scroll which the Negro had in his hand were the words: "What are you gwine to do with the black man?"