“Wild Animals and Birds” is most handsomely bound and beautifully illustrated. It is just such a work as should be put into the hands of every boy in the land, and it is worthy the study of even a naturalist. The author has selected a number of the most prominent members of the animal kingdom and written their histories with a view to their natural aspects, showing that life among wild animals is not wholly occupied in a struggle for bare existence, and he has so woven into his descriptions their habits that one is highly pleased and instructed.

“Papa’s Little Daughters,” by Mrs. Mary D. Brine, is so copiously supplied with engravings that if it contained nothing more it would be enjoyed by the children. But this is not the case, it is a story well told and pleasing. The binding is elegant and the print clear and perfect.

The frontispiece of “Fred Bradford’s Debt,” by Joanna H. Mathews, would instantly call forth the admiration of children. Bound in handsomely-colored covers it is certainly a charming book.

“Living Pages from Many Ages” contains many historical events, both of war and peace. It is from the pen of Mary Hield, is nicely illustrated and the subjects are well selected. It takes up many of the most noted warriors, giving short accounts of their lives, tells of the struggles of artists, scholars, reformers, of adventures in all continents and of trials of religious sects and oppressed countries.

A child’s book of poetry, gotten up in elaborate style, with picture covers, and pages with colored illustrations, is entitled “Two Tea Parties.” As a publication of its kind it is simply elegant.

A magazine for the young, with the title of “Little Folks” is a perfect gem. It contains much to interest grown people, and everything to entertain children. It is a book of nearly four hundred pages and gives amusements, recreations, stories, illustrated poems, music, Sunday reading, puzzles, descriptions of beasts, birds and fishes, enigmas, questions, etc.

How many a young wife’s heart is saddened and happiness scattered, because she can not “cook as mother did.” It is strange, sadly strange, and yet we all know it is true. How many a time has the tender-hearted reporter felt his soul bursting with grief as he told the harrowing story of some poor suffering woman, whose cheerful sunshine had turned to dismal darkness just because she could not “cook as mother did.” And how it delights the heart of the reporter when he chances to hear of one devoted young wife who is rescued from the gloomy fate of so many, in a manner so simple and easy that the only wonder is that all are not saved. This one to whom he now refers was led a blushing and blooming bride, but a few short weeks ago, to the altar by one of our most promising and prominent young men. He promised to do everything in his power to make her happy, but in an evil hour he made the dangerous discovery that she could not “cook as mother did.” He told her so, and from that hour the life-light of happiness began to die out in her once radiant eyes. The bloom that put to shame the fancied perfection of the rose departed from her cheek, the voice that welcomed him to a happy heart and home grew silent as the grave, and the young husband saw that something must be done soon. He asked the sorrowful wife why she was so sad, and she told him because she could not “cook as his mother did,” but if she had Royal Baking Powder he could say so no longer. Like a sensible fellow, he ordered a dozen boxes at once, and now he says he is afraid that his wife will raise the roof off the house some day, but he don’t care, for she is happy.