on, and why should a princess, from the unfortunate accident of her birth, be debarred her natural right to fall in love with the man of her choice, and to marry the man she loves.  At any rate we commend this change of policy to the leaders of the women’s rights party, as a proof of the success their movement has gained, and advise them to send a series of congratulatory resolutions to the princess in question, upon her gaining her unquestioned right to consult her heart rather than a Lord Chancellor in the bestowal of her hand.

* * * * *

An Anecdote from Salt Lake.

A GYPSY came to BRIGHAM YOUNG with a pony for sale.

“Why, the beast is half-starved,” said BRIGHAM, running his hand over the pony’s side.  “You can count his ribs.”

“That’s more’n a chap could do with yours,” retorted the gypsy.

BRIGHAM YOUNG did not buy that pony.

* * * * *

NATURAL HISTORY IN OUR PARKS.

No greater tribute has yet been paid to the already improved condition of our city parks under the new regime, than the arrival in them of strange birds by which they had not hitherto been patronized.  Within a few days past several owls have been captured in the solemn pines with which these delightful retreats have lately been made green, if not shady.  The owl, as is well known, was regarded by the ancients as the Bird of Wisdom.  He fully sustained his right to the title by letting severely alone the city parks while they were still dreary and disgusting wastes.  The only night-birds by which these were, then occupied were of the featherless (and apparently motherless) kind, and were well known to the police.  They were quite as watchful, it is true, as the genuine feathered owl that has just commenced to give its very extraordinary countenance to the parks, but then it was with other people’s watches, not their own.  It is with much concern that we hear reports of the slaughter of some of these solemn but beautiful owls that have come to ventilate their wisdom among us.  The reports in question were very definite and unmistakable, most of them proceeding from revolvers handled by members of the Municipal Police Force, while others emanated from the barrels of shot-guns wielded by beery Teutons, who rushed frantically out from their sawdust lairs when they were told that the game was up—­that is, that an owl was up a tree.  This was scurvy treatment for the visitors.  To “put a head on” an owl, which is already provided with one so large and so comical, appears to be a work both superfluous and inhuman.  The only apology for it in this instance is, that these night-birds of prey were supposed by the police to have been attracted to the parks by the prospect of succulent suppers on the very well-fed sparrows by which these resorts are now thickly tenanted.  The owls hooted at this notion; but their hooting was only answered by shooting, and the poor foolish Birds of Wisdom have been stuffed with tow instead of sparrows, and set up to form the nucleus of an ornithological Rogues’ Gallery in the City Hall.