These flowers are surrounded by an involucre composed of small leaves in rows, each one a scale. In thistles the scales are prickly.
[A BRAVE WAR CORRESPONDENT.]
It is a pleasure to cite the following case of an American correspondent whom Lord Wolseley encountered during the Ashantee campaign, and it cannot be done better than to cite it as the General told it, in a reminiscent mood, not long since: "It was at the beginning of the campaign, just after our landing, when a square-built little man came up to me, and said, speaking slowly, and with an unmistakable American accent: 'General, allow me to introduce myself. I am the correspondent of the New York ——. I—.' Too busy to attend to him, I cut him short with, 'What can I do for you, sir?' He replied, imperturbably, with the same exasperating slowness, 'Well, General, I want to be as near you as I can, if there is any fightin' to be seen.' 'Captain So-and-so has charge of all the arrangements concerning correspondents,' I rejoined, curtly; 'you had better see him.' And with this I turned on my heel and left him. I saw no more of my correspondent with the aggravating coolness and slowness of speech for many a day. I did not even know whether he was accompanying the column or not. Personally speaking, I was only in danger once during the whole expedition. It was shortly before we entered Coomassic. I had pressed forward with the advanced troops, hoping to break the last effort at resistance and have done with the affair, when the enemy, utilizing the heavy covert, came down and fairly surrounded us. For a few minutes the position was critical, and every man had to fight, for the enemy's fire was poured in at close quarters. They pressed upon us from all sides, dodging from tree to tree, and continually edging closer, hoping to get hand to hand. In the hottest of it my attention was caught by a man in civilian's clothes who was some fifteen or twenty yards in front of me, and who was completely surrounded by the advancing savages. He seemed to pay no heed to the danger he was in, but, kneeling on one knee, took aim and fired again and again, and I seemed to see that every time he fired a black man fell. I was fascinated by his danger and coolness. As our main body came up and the savages were driven back, I went forward to see that no harm came to my civilian friend, who rose just as I reached him. To my astonishment it was the correspondent of the New York ——, and he began again, in the same slow, calm way, 'Well, General——.' Again I interrupted him. 'You were lucky to escape. Didn't you see that you were surrounded?' 'Well, General,' he began again, 'I guess I was too much occupied by the niggers in front to pay much attention to those behind.'"
[NURSERY BALLADS.]
THE WANDERING COW.
"The cow has escaped from the Ark!" cried Noah—"the cow has escaped from the Ark!
And wandered away and hid from the day somewhere in the nursery dark;
So, Billie, be careful, and, Jimmie, go slow; 'twould be horridly awful I vow,
If you in your gropings should happen to step on a poor little dun-brown cow
"Now where shall we look for a little dun cow—just where is she likely to be?
Far off in the camp of the soldiers tin or swimming hard by in the sea—
A-swimming with joy in the saw-dust waves and tossing the boats on her horns,
Or solemnly chewing the lacquered manes of the Japanese unicorns?
"Or else do you think she has clambered up the sides of the mantel-piece,
And there, to the tick of the nickel clock, is taking a moment of ease?
Or, horrible thought, oh, terrible thought! must we fearsomely search for her
In the zinc flue-pipe that leads far down through the nursery register?
"Do you think that perhaps she has wandered off and has tumbled adown the stairs,
Or can she be up on the bureau there a-combing her painted hairs?
Is she down in the kitchen or up on the roof, or hid in the attic cold,
Or has she run off to the music-box to list to the "Warrior Bold"?
"Oh, where, oh, where would a dun cow go? Pray tell me if you can," cried Noah,
"The rain's coming on, and I want to close up and bolt fast my Arkian door.
'Twould never do to be caught in the rain out there on the cold wet moor,
For her color's not fast, and if it comes off she'll be a done cow for sure."
Carlyle Smith.