taken the initiative in this new refinement of coquetry, which employs not only a greater variety and quantity of perfume than in previous years, but employs it according to a certain scientific system.  At balls, perfumes are especially de rigueur, and it is in her ball-dress that Araminta aims to establish a species of relation between the nature of the perfume she carries and the general character of the toilette she wears.  That is to say, gravely proceeds Monsieur Chapus, if pink predominates in the stuff of her gown, the proper perfume will be essence of roses; if light yellow, it will be Portugal water; if the color be reseda (which has such a run at present for ladies’ costumes), the chosen perfume will be an essence of mignonette; and so on with the other flowers corresponding to the shades commonly used in fresh ball-toilettes.  Undoubtedly to a Rimmel the relation between different odors and different styles of personal beauty or personal traits would be as obvious as is this newly-discovered harmony between perfume and costume; but we fear that the new fashion is due to coquettish art rather than aesthetic taste, and that, like many another whim of the drawing-room, it will die out before the science is fairly established.

* * * * *

The enfant terrible plays an important role in literature as in society during these modern days, and although a little of him goes a good way, yet it must be owned that his sayings are sometimes spicy.

A grandfather was holding Master Tom, a youth of five, on his knees, when the youngster suddenly asked him why his hair was white.  “Oh,” says grandpapa, “that’s because I’m so old.  Why, don’t you know that I was in the ark?”

“In the ark?” cries Tommy:  “why you aren’t Noah, are you, grandpapa?”

“Oh no, I’m not Noah.”

“Ah, then you’re Shem.”

“No, not Shem, either.”

“Oh, then I suppose you’re Japhet.”

“No, you haven’t guessed right:  I’m not Japhet.”

“Well, then, grandpapa,” said the child, driven to the extremity of his biblical knowledge, “you must be one of the beasts.”

Not less critical was the comment of a lad who was taken to church one Sunday for the first time.

“You see, Augustus,” said his fond mamma, anxious to impress his tender mind at such a moment with lasting remembrances, “how many people come here to pray to God?”

“Yes, but not so many as go to the circus,” says the practical lad.

Quite natural, also, was the reply of a little lady who was found crying by her mother because one of her companions had given her a slap.

“Well, I hope you paid her back?” cried the angry mother, her indignation getting the better of her judgment.

“Oh yes, I paid her back before-hand!”

Another little girl, after attending the funeral of one of her schoolmates, which ceremony had been conducted at the school, was giving an animated account of the exercises on her return home.