"You are a poor fool!" exclaimed Dr. Harvey, per. plexed and angry. "If you had gone about town telling everybody that you saw me drunk, daily, you couldn't have slandered me more effectually than you have."

"Oh, I beg your pardon," cried Mr. Query, very sad; "but I thought I was doing you a service!"

"Save me from my friends!" exclaimed the doctor, bitterly. "An enemy could not have done me as much injury as you have done. But I now insist on knowing who first mentioned the report to you."

"Oh, I am not at liberty to say that."

"Then I shall hold you responsible for the scandalfor the base lies you have circulated. But if you are really an honest man, and my friend, you will not hesitate to tell me where this report originated."

After some reflection, Mr. Query, who stood in mortal fear of the indignant doctor, resolved to reveal the secret, and mentioned the name of his informant, Mrs. Simmons. As Dr. Harvey had not heard her spoken of before, as connected with the report of his intemperance, he knew very well that Mr. Query's "friendly investigations" had been the sole cause of his loss of practice. However, to go to the roots of this Upas tree of scandal, he resolved to pay an immediate visit to Mrs. Simmons.

This lady could deny nothing; but she declared that she had not given the rumour as a fact, and that she had never spoken of it except to Mr. Query. Anxious to throw the responsibility of the slander upon others, she eagerly confessed that, on a certain occasion upon enter

ing a room in which were Mrs Guild and Mrs. Harmless, she overheard one of these ladies remark that “Dr. Harvey drank more than ever," and the other reply, that "she had heard him say he could not break himself, although he knew his health suffered in consequence."

Thus set upon the right track, Dr. Harvey visited Mrs. Guild and Mrs. Harmless without delay.

"Mercy on us!" exclaimed those ladies, when questioned respecting the matter, "we perfectly remember talking about your drinking coffee, and making such remarks as you have heard through Mrs. Simmons. But with regard to your drinking liquor, we never heard the report until a week ago, and never believed it at all."

As what these ladies had said of his coffee-drinking propensities was perfectly true, Dr. Harvey readily acquitted them of any designs against his character for sobriety, and well satisfied with having at last discovered the origin of the rumour, returned to the friendly Mr. Query.

The humiliation of this gentleman was so deep, that Dr. Harvey avoided reproaches, and confined himself to a simple narrative of his discoveries.

"I see, it is all my fault," said Mr. Query. "And I will do anything to remedy it. I never could believe you drank—and now I'll go and tell everybody that the report was false."

66

"Oh! bless you," cried the doctor, "I wouldn't nave you do so for the world. All I ask of you, is to say nothing whatever on the subject, and if you ever again

hear a report of the kind, don't make it a subject of friendly investigation."

Mr. Query promised; and, after the truth was known, and Dr. Harvey had regained the good-will of the community, together with his share of medical practice, he never had reason again to exclaim-"Save me from my friends! And Mr. Query was in future exceedingly careful how he attempted to make friendly investigations.

• ROOM IN THE WORLD.

THERE is room in the world for the wealthy and great,
For princes to reign in magnificent state;

For the courtier to bend, for the noble to sue,

If the hearts of all these are but honest and true.

And there's room in the world for the lowly and meek,
For the hard horny hand, and the toil-furrow'd cheek;
For the scholar to think, for the merchant to trade,
So these are found upright and just in their grade.

But room there is none for the wicked; and nought
For the souls that with teeming corruption are fraught.
The world would be small, were its oceans all land,
To harbour and feed such a pestilent band.

Root out from among ye, by teaching the mind,
By training the heart, this chief curse of mankind!
'Tis a duty you owe to the forthcoming race--
Confess it in time, and discharge it with grace!

WORDS.

"THE foolish thing!" said my Aunt Rachel, speaking warmly, "to get hurt at a mere word. It's a little hard that people can't open their lips but somebody is offended."

"Words are things!" said I, smiling.

"Very light things! A person must be tender indeed, that is hurt by a word."

"The very lightest thing may hurt, if it falls on a tender place."

me.

"I don't like people who have these tender places," said Aunt Rachel. "I never get hurt at what is said to No-never! To be ever picking and mincing, and chopping off your words-to be afraid to say this or that for fear somebody will be offended! I can't abide it."

"People who have these tender places can't help it, I suppose. This being so, ought we not to regard their weakness?" said I. "Pain, either of body or mind, is hard to bear, and we should not inflict it causelessly."

"People who are so wonderfully sensitive," replied Aunt Rachel, growing warmer, "ought to shut themselves up at home, and not come among sensible, good-tempered persons. As far as I am concerned, I can tell them, one and all, that I am not going to pick out every hard word from a sentence as carefully as I would seeds from a raisin. Let them crack them with their teeth, if they are afraid to swallow them whole."

Now, for all that Aunt Rachel went on after this strain, she was a kind, good soul, in the main, and, 1 could see, was sorry for having hurt the feelings of Mary Lane. But she didn't like to acknowledge that she was in the wrong; that would detract too much from the self complacency with which she regarded herself. Kr.owing her character very well, I thought it best not to continue the little argument about the importance of words, and so changed the subject. But, every now and then, Aunt Rachel would return to it, each time softening a little towards Mary. At last she said,

"I'm sure it was a little thing. A very little thing. She might have known that nothing unkind was intended on my part."

"There are some subjects, aunt," I replied, "to which we cannot bear the slightest allusion. And a sudden. reference to them is very apt to throw us off of our guard. What you said to Mary has, in all probability, touched some weakness of character, or probed some wound that time has not been able to heal. I have always thought her a sensible, good-natured girl."

"And so have I. But I really cannot think that she has showed her good sense or good nature in the present case. It is a very bad failing this, of being over sensitive; and exceedingly annoying to one's friends."

“It is, I know; but still, all of us have a weak point, and to her that is assailed, we are very apt to betray our feelings."

"Well, I say now, as I have always said-I don't like to have anything to do with people who have these weak points. This being hurt by a word, as if words