A man's occupation or condition has a good deal to do with making his facial ex pression. Intellectual pursuits, like studies or the scholarly professions, wheu coupled with temperate and moral habits of life, brighten the face and give a person a superior look. Magnanimity of nature, or love of studies and arts will make a bright glad face, but contrary to this, a man may have a face that does not please anybody, because of a love of self to the exolusion of all others, notwithstanding hia learning and worthy shrewdness. Soldiers get a hard, severe look, overworked laborers constantly look tired, reporters look inquisitive, mathe maticians look studious. Judges become grave, even when off the bench, the man who has had domestic trouble looks all broken up. An example of the ludicrous side of this subjeot is to see a third class lawyer stalking around a polioe oourt looking as wi « as an owl. The business makes the face, I say. There's the butoher'sface, the saloon-keeper's lace, the beggar's face, the ministerial face, the doctor b face, the larrikin's face, all so d.Btinot, each from the other and singly, thai 1 Eeldom fail to recognise those callings bhowing through the faces. And what city boy oannot recognise a genuine farmer on the street as a farmer the moment he sees him!

Bill Nye. Elisha B. Wherry, Battle Brook, writes as follows: " 1 am hardly 27 year 3 old, and yet I am almost entirely bald. I have recently read in the Popular Science Monthly that bald ness is very largely on the increase, and that by actual count fully 30 per cent, of the men, even at a concert or tragedy, are more or less bald. This number is largely increased, it is said, when the play gets more dash and spirit in it, and the leading lady throws aside all reserve.
