dent; his father never aspired to that honor; Washington was never a father, save to his country and two step-children, having wedded a beautiful and very wealthy young widow." "Aunt Deb!" I exclaimed, almost crying with vexation, "Don't say anything more; what is left after your overhauling? I might just as well burn the thing up and have done with it. What if all history were subjected to such tests as you apply? I think there wouldn't be many sizeable books left." "You haven't a bit of romance in your make up, Aunt Deb." "Women of my age seldom have." "What need?" I was about to ask, but Aunt Deb had gone, something in the kitchen requring her supervision. "I wonder why she couldn't have told us if she had ever had an offer of marriage, and if she were once a belle," Jenny said after a time. "I had been pondering the same thing myself. The most vivid "Which would be all the better for his imagination could scarcely at any time of tory," she added. life have pictured my aunt a beauty, yet "And historical novels ?" I said inter- she is one of earth's most excellent,” I rogatively. said warmly. Aunt Deborah was above A few primers," was the sententious medium, and rather plump; her eyes reply. were large and full, their color darkhazel; her hair, which at some time in the past had been dark and glossy, was now thickly threaded with silver, yet fell in a profusion of natural ringlets when left to its own will, which was not often the case. "But really," I said, reverting to my unfortunate composition, "What am I to do? To-morrow is composition day, and it will be impossible to write another, with all I have to do besides." "O, that can be easily arranged," she said. "Just substitute another name and title. The more unmeaning the title, the more fashionable it will be. What is it?' will be as good as any other; originate one to suit yourself, however." "Aunt Deb?" "Well!" "Did you ever have a romance?" "Don't be inquisitive, Tilly." Her teeth were even and white, and when in animated conversation, her eyes sparkled like diamonds; she had a sweet smile and low musical voice, which seemed to thrill one through. In fact her eyes and voice were her principal charms; and must certainly at some time have attracted somebody; so Jenny and I reasoned. One morning as I was about to start for "But did you, aunty dear? Now do tell school, I was accosted thus: "Tilly!" us; there's a pet." "What for? You will be making a heroine of me next." "Ma'am !" "You may invite the teacher home with you this afternoon; the 'circle' "No, indeed, aunty dear! I promise meets here to-day, and we ought to show you. Aunty?" 'What, Tilly ?” "Were you ever?-that is, did you ever-?" "Say on, Tilly; was I ever pretty? and did I ever have an offer?" him a little attention, I suppose, as he has but few acquaintances in the village." "Yes'm," I answered, as I tied on my sun-bonnet. The teacher accepted the invitation, but when I introduced him to aunty, I was "How could you know my thoughts, certain she turned pale, and trembled, yet aunty?" "You didn't know then that I have a divining rod by which I bring hidden things to light?" I may have been mistaken, for I had never seen her converse with as much animation, excitement I thought, she was usually so calm and placid. “Ma'am," I answered, almost startled. "Mr. Pierce is son of an old friend of mine." "Indeed!" I returned; but seeing nothing very strange in the announcement, made no further remark. She then again relapsed into silence. Two years passed rapidly away. Mr. Pierce taught three terms of school acceptably to the community; then began to read law with one of our most able and learned judges. At my aunt's everything went on in its accustomed monotonous channel. Our days passed along as if earth were not the mutable place it has been represented. Aunt Deborah seemed her same old self, if indeed in looks she had not grown younger. She still went the accustomed rounds among her poor, attended to the cultivation of her few paternal acres, and still took the same matter of fact view of passing events. We were sitting alone one evening in the early part of spring. A cheerful blaze lighted the little apartment; it had been a lovely sunshiny day, and through all of it the little song sparrows had been chattering in the honey-suckles at the window, flitting from spray to spray, seeking a sheltered nook in which to set up housekeeping. Toward evening, however, it had clouded over, and the rain was now pouring down in torrents. "Take these to your room," she said, giving them into my hand. "This box will perhaps answer the question you once propounded as to my youthful appearance and matrimonial opportunities. I will answer any reasonable questions suggested by either." "As if I would ask any other, aunty." Aunty smiled, as if such an event was not improbable. Not wishing to be too curious about aunt's private history, I compelled myself to silence during the remainder of the evening, though I would gladly have been enlightened on more than one point. I was not sorry, therefore, when the hour came for retiring, for aunt, after giving me the letters, had seemed forgetful of my presence. I was not long in opening the box, after securing my door. It contained two pictures; one represented a lovely girl in the first flush of early womanhood; the other, a noble-looking man, some years her senior. These miniatures were elegantly painted on ivory, the colors retaining all their original brightness, and I found it difficult to realize, that they had not recently come from under the hand of the artist. Could it be possible that this had ever been a true representation of Aunt Deborah? Yes, it must be true; there was the same expression of eyes and features. The original of the other picture I had certainly never seen, and would hardly dare ask, lest it should come under the head of what aunty styled unreasonable questions. Having finished my inspection of these, I reverently laid them in their box, and opened one package of the letters -those directed in a bold, manly hand, to "Miss Deborah Eastbrook," and what was my surprise to find the signature identical with that of our old-time teacher, "Benjamin Pierce;" yet they bore a date in Tilly!" aunty said, after she had for a long time sat in a state of dreamy reverie, "I promised you once a leaf from my personal history; do you still care to hear it?" Very much indeed, Aunt Deb, if you the past anterior to his birth, I was cercan trust me." tain. It now recurred to me that aunty She then arose, and going to an escritoire, had turned pale at sight of our teacher, yet he bore not the slightest resemblance to This much settled, if not quite satisfacthe pictured face I had been contemplating; | torily, I at once proceeded to the perusal yet the inference was plain,-our teacher of the letters, every one breathing words must be a son of this lover of my aunt's. of tenderest affection. THE Flying Fish of the accompanying fierce and formidable, though in dispo cut, is one which voyagers do not see in the Atlantic. It is the Flying Gurnard of the East India seas, and differs from its relations of the Atlantic ocean in being less gracefully shaped, but much more gayly colored. Its scientific name ie Dactylopterus Orientalis. On the wings are spots of rich brown, while some of the brightest colors of the rainbow are seen on parts of the body. The spines are a curious feature, and are doubtless intended for defence. The eye is large, and altogether the creature, though small, looks sition it is timid, and in nature harmless. The Flying Fish met with in the warmer portions of the Atlantic, is the Exocilus Volitans. The pectoral fins, with which the fish sustains itself a few moments in air, are more triangular in shape, and not so fan-like as those of the oriental specimen. Neither of these two species of Flying Fish have wings, in the proper sense of the term; what answers the purpose is only an expansion of the usual pectoral fins. With these they flutter or skip, rather than fly. They skim the summits of the waves, and rarely prolong their flight more than a hundred yards. Young voyagers are always delighted at the novel spectacle of a shoal of glittering Flying Fish, sometimes hundreds and thousands in number, gleaming in the sunshine. It is a wonderful vision, and one almost imagines that the mermaids are out, sending before them in throngs the silver doves of the sea, and ready to surprise you with some new fairy vision. Their flight is so rapid that sharp-eyed sailors cannot see the vibration of their wings. Their course often swerves from the direction of their leap from the water, which shows that they can use their tails and fins to steer by, after they have lifted themselves from their natural element. It is probable that their power of vision is defective, as they often fall on the decks of passing ships. Their foes are the bonitas and the dolphins. These pursuers are often caught by the sailors with the aid of a hook, whose shaft is ornamented with fan or fin-like appendages, to resemble a Flying Fish. E A PHILISTINE CITY. BY J. M'N. W. VERY reader of the Scriptures is familiar with the name of Philistine. The Philistines were descendants of Ham, the third son of Noah. Some suppose that they were originally the "Shepherd kings," who were expelled from Egypt after four hundred years of power; their name means strangers, and from them the land of Canaan is called Palestine. During the times of Abraham and Isaac, the patriarchs of the Hebrews were firm friends of the Philistine kings; but four centuries later, the Israelites, coming to conquer Canaan, found themselves engaged in a warfare with their olden allies, and often the people of the Lord became the slaves of the heathen. When Samuel dwelt, a godly and honored youth, in the Tabernacle, and Eli was high priest, the Ark of God was captured by the Philistines, and carried in triumph to their own country. | | Ashdod sent the mysterious Ark to other cities of the Philistines. Of this notable old town, Ashdod, we would say a few words. The city was famous for the beauty of its site; a broad plain of unusual fertility sweeps in a wide curve about the base of a low, gentlyrounded hill; here stood the royal city, looking from its eminence down upon a bright, miniature lake. The hill sides were terraced, and beautified with gardens, olive, fig, and pomegranate orchards and vineyards. Above and among these rose temples, towers, palaces and homes, the pride of a rich, warlike and wicked people. Ashdod, in its exceeding beauty and abounding wealth, defied the might of Israel, and of Israel's God. But "except the Lord keeps the city, the watchman waketh but in vain." The traveller may now go to Ashdod, and write, "how art thou fallen" in the dust which covers its ruins Every splendid dwelling, every goodly palace and heaven-scorning temple has crumbled into ashes. A vile hamlet called Esdud, which is a mere collection of mud huts, lies strangely embowered on To save their hideous deity, the men of the eastern slope of Ashdod's long famous The much-prized trophy was put in the glittering temple of Dagon, the fish-god, and every child has heard, wondering, how in the night unseen hands flung Dagon down, compelling him to do unconscious homage to the Lord of Jewry. hill. Here is fulfilled what the Lord | the Jews in language and religion. Situprophesied by the mouth of Zechariah, "I will cut off the pride of the Philistines." While the plain and the valley are fertile as of yore, the glory has departed and only desolation reigns. The resistless sands of the Mediterranean are yearly drifting inward, and with sure, solemn step advancing to bury the fragments of former glory, the flowery beauty of nature, and the miserable hut of the modern dervish, in a common tomb. At the southern base of the hill of Ashdod, as seen in the illustration given above, the ruins of an old khan, and a broken down mosque, stand beside the pretty lake. Near these are broken columns and pillars, sarcophagi of white marble, and fragments of carving and statuary, remnants of the day of Philistia's pride. As the prophet foretold, this warrior city has become a fold for poor men's flocks, and straying among the ruins, the Bedouin shepherds feed their sheep. The tribe of Judah were ever unable to conquer Ashdod. Nehemiah, after the seventy years of captivity, found it still unsubdued, the home of a race alien from ated three miles from the Mediterranean, between Gaza and Joppa, and on the very high road of travel from Canaan to Egypt, it was a town of great commercial importance. Tartan, the general of King Sargon, besieged Ashdod seven hundred and sixteen years before Christ. Jeremiah mentions also its siege by Psammetichus, about a century later. The Maccabees brought their divinely aided strength to bear upon the old enemy of Judah, and finally destroyed the city. After this Ashdod lay in ruins, until it was rebuilt and fortified by Gabinius, some fifty years before Christ. In the New Testament it is mentioned as Azotus, where Philip was found after the baptism of the Ethiopian eunuch on the road by Gaza. Ruined Ashdod and the mud village that clings to the once notable site, stand as memorials of the fulfilment of prophecy, and a sign to all generations that "the triumphing of the wicked is short; he is suddenly cut off" With Ashdod have perished Ekron, Ascalon, Gaza, Eglon and Lachish, famous |