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It is required to name the quotient of five or three lines of figures (each line consisting of five or more figures) only seeing the first line, before the other lines are even put down. Any person may write down the first line of figures for you. How do you find the quotient?



To fifty, add full two-thirds of a ton,
Five hundred then annex, and when 'tis done,
Add thereunto the centre of a pond;
And, as by virtue of magician's wand,
A city, vast and populous arises,

Whose name may cause, ye wits, some few surmises:

A city, to all Europe known,

Graced as the station of a female throne!


To one-third of six pray add the reversion
Of half of a loaf, and, to increase diversion,
Add the end of a storm, two nothings between,
With the head of a nation; and clear will be


The name of a monarch, whose father when young, Won fame by the melodies which he sweet sung.


Place nothing before fifty-four,

To which add one-third of an ell. To these annex one nothing more, And add the centre of a mill; These, when arranged in line, express What's often used our hair to dress!


To six add a cypher, and then quick annex,
Fifty-one, and what's twice seen in nine;
And plainly an instrument view, which you


With others does oft sweet combine.


Two men, with their two wives, and two sons, stand thus related to each other:-the men are each other's fathers and sons, their wives fathers and husbands, and their children's fathers and grandfathers; the women are the children's mothers and sisters; and the boys are uncles to each other. How can this be, and yet the parties be lawfully married?


1. What is it that a coach cannot go without, yet is of no use to the coach or the passengers? 2. When is it dangerous to walk the fields and when by the river-side?

3. When is a bonnet not a bonnet?

4. When is a lady not a lady?

5. When is a lady's neck not a neck? 6. When is a baby not a baby?

7. When is nose not a nose?

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Now listen, Damsels, in my merry rhyme,
To clear my "Novelty" it seems quite time.
Who loves not beauty? be such but a bird,
She doth the fancy with attractions gird:
A pretty Paroquet, of East, wins fame,
For favour'd graces;-such is our first's name.
Another beauty is our stronger next,
Who, for long essay, might produce fair text,
So wondrous are her ways in native woods;
Her name is Parrot, showing checker'd moods.
The Vampire is our third; a mighty pest
By the huge streams that mark the torrid West.
The Bard of Avon, in his "Hamlet" Tale,
Hath halo-girt my fourth, of Grecian vale:
Few have not heard of such-the Porcupine,
With barb-like quills that shows resentment's

Our fifth the Elephant, all will allow
Doth, as a Titan, by an Earthworm show.
An Oran-Otan our strong sixth appears
Where Malay Palm its taking clusters rears.
Our Seventh, the Pelican, of lonesome shores.
Destruction on the fin-lent creatures pours.
Hamster is title of our eighth her bags
With grain to furnish, steadily she fags.
Such is my "Novelty," when fashion'd mist
Quits all its precincts to display its list.
Sylphs of green grove! nymphs of Minerva's

Try, through the product, science-lore to gain.


PROBLEM XVI.-By Mr. M'COMBE. White playing first, mates in three moves.



1. K. P. 2.

2. K. B. P. 2.

3. K. Kt. to B. 3.

4. K. R. P. 2.

5. Kt. to K. 5.

6. B. to Q. B. 4.

7. Q. P. 2.

8. Kt. to Q. 3.

9. P. takes P.

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10. B. to K. B. 4. (a)
11. K. to Q. 2.
12. Q. B. P. 1.
13. Q. takes P.
14. Q. to K. 3.
15. Q. Kt. to R. 3.
16. Kt. takes Kt.
17. Kt. to K. B. 2
18. B. takes Kt.
19. P. takes P. (b)
20. Q. R. to K.
21. K. R. to Kt.
22. Q. to K. B. 3.

GAME XVI.-Played at the London Chess Club, | 23. K. to Q.
March 23rd, 1852.

White-Mr. Greenaway.

Black-Mr.G. W. Medley


1. K. P. 2.

2. P. takes P.
3. K. Kt. P. 2.

4. K. Kt. P. 1.

5. K. R. P. 2.

6. K. Kt. to R. 3.
7. Q. P. 1.

8. P. to K. B. 6.
9. B. to K. 2.

10. B. takes P. ch.
11. Q. Kt. to B. 3.
12. P. takes P.
13. B. to K. Kt. 5.
14. Kt. to R. 4.
15. Kt. takes B. ch.
16. B. to K. 2.
17. K. B. P. 2.
18. R. takes B.
19. B. takes P.
20. K. to Q. 2. (c)
21. R. to K. 3.

22. K. B. to Kt. 4. ch.

23. Q. to K. B. 3

24. Q. takes Q. Kt. P. 24. R. takes R. ch.

25. R. takes R.
26. K. takes B.
27. K. to Q

28. Q. to Q. Kt. 5. ch.
29. Q.takes B. and wins.

25. B. to Q. B. 7. ch. (d)
26. Q. takes Kt. ch.
27. R. to K. B.
28. K. to B.

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"You make me really uncomfortable, Catherine, by talking in this manner."


"I am a little uncomfortable myself, too, if the whole truth was known; but never mind, dear, proper mamma. won't vex you again. We'll talk about the family; my brothers especially. How do you think they are getting on now in their different vocations? I am sure I speak like a grandmother now."

"I think, Catherine, at least, I hope they are doing extremely well."


66 'Yes, all,"


Philip? is he doing well? "

"Yes, Philip especially. I had a long confidential conversation with him yesterday, and I was very much pleased with him, I can tell you very much pleased indeed."

"He didn't commit himself by talking about love, then?"



No, indeed, he was not so foolish." "He talked about the church, did he?" Yes, and instead of speaking lightly, as he used, you know, he expressed himself quite satisfied with the choice which his parents had made for him, and he seemed determined to pursue his studies with increased diligence."

Did he tell you of any new reason he had found for making these excellent resolutions?"

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"He should not run into any more. I would pay them once, but never again." "That is just what I feel, Catherine, and have told him. He is to tell me exactly what he owes; I shall then consult with Robert, for you know we cannot trouble Mr. Clifton now about such matters."

"Still you said 'we,' mamma, when you spoke of effort; and you said I might be more industrious. You must have had some meaning. Do tell me what it was."


I meant that you might apply more diligently to your studies; might practise more on the piano; might take up Italian again; and altogether qualify yourself better for-for-"

"For what, mamma? "

"Well you know, Catherine, when women don't marry-"

"Don't marry! dear mamma. Shall I never be married, then?"


My dear child, you have a very plain little face, and men, you know—"

"Don't say any more, mamma. I know my poor face very well. I see it, you know, in the glass every day, so there can be no need to tell me about it. Besides which, a sharp pain runs through me when you speak in that way. Please don't say that any more, dear mamma."

"It is better, Catherine, to speak the truth than to flatter you."

"Yes; and when you catch me acting or speaking as if I imagined myself pretty, I hope you will tell me this truth. Until then, be assured, dear mamma, that I know my face, and its defects, better than any one else can know them."

"You were not always so sensitive on this subject, Catherine."


Perhaps not; but I have thought a great deal about it lately, more than it is quite comfortable to think; and when you tell me I shall never marry-never can marry, nor be loved, as other women are.-Oh! dear mamma-"


Hush, my child; I did not mean to pain you. There are many excellent women, and happy women, too, who never marry."


Living all alone, mamma?"


Living in the midst of society, admired and valued."


"I care nothing about society. I only want one person to talk to, always. could be quite content with Seymy-quite happy, or very nearly so, only that he must be so much away. He doesn't mind other my face, mamma, why should people?"

"I cannot tell you, child. I only know they do; and I mention the fact as a stimulus to you to apply yourself more to your studies; to make yourself, in short, a wiser woman. I am afraid, Catherine, you have been thinking very foolishly of late."

"I am afraid I have, mamma, and almost wickedly, too. Do you know, the other day-but I won't tell you."

"Yes, do, Catherine. What happened to you?"


"Oh! nothing happened. It was all within this stupid little heart of mine. never felt anything like it before. I hope I shall never feel the same again."

"What did you feel, Catherine?" "Something so burning, and so wicked. It seemed as if a hot coal was laid upon my breast, just here."

"You frighten me, Catherine. What was it?"

"Very well, then. Go on."

"You must know, then, mamma, that peeping out of these ugly grey eyes of mine, and they do see a good many things, I saw, once upon a time, the hand of a

lady taken by a gentleman-oh! so kindly you cannot think how kindly! But the hand of the lady looked cold and lifeless; and when the gentleman, as I believe, had pressed it to his lips, it dropped down as if nothing had happened, just like a dead hand, or a lump of lead." "Well, you foolish little-"

"Don't interrupt me, mamma, just yet. wasn't about the hand I wanted to tell you, but something I felt here, at my heart."


"What was it, child? I do not understand you."

"Indeed, mamma, I cannot tell. I am talking very foolishly, I know; but why were hearts given to people, mamma, along with plain faces? And why are such cold, cold hands, to have so much tenderness bestowed upon them?"

"I don't know, I'm sure, Catherine. But see, it is time to dress for dinner. Do you think your brother and sister have returned from their walk?"

"Is that all you have to say to me, mamma?"

"Why, child? You are so foolish this morning."

"I know it, dear mamma. I know that truth also, better than you can tell me."

"I think you are wrong, Catherine, too, as well as foolish. These subjects must be dismissed from your mind altogether. When are your Latin lessons to begin again?"


When my brothers go away, if you please. But it is all waste of money, dear mamma. I don't make anything out with languages."

"And your music?"

"Still worse."

"This is a sad account, Catherine. Something must be done. Mrs. Jameson tells me her daughters are making wonderful progress in their Latin under Dr. Greenwood. How would you like to join

"I won't tell you who, I will only tell rine?" you what."


"Oh! dear, not at all."

"What would you like, then, Cathe

"To be let alone, I think; to do as other people do-as Helen does, for instance."

"Ah! but Helen's prospects are very different from yours."

"Then tell me plainly and distinctly

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