The Sower's Song.
Mow hands to seed-sheet, boys,
We step and wo cast; old Time's oil wing;
And wonld jre partake of harvest joys,
The corn mnst be sown in spring.
Fall gently and still, good oorn,
Lie warm in thy earthy bed,
And stand so yellow some morn
That beast and man may be fed.
Old Earth is a pleasure to see
In sunshiny cloak of red and green ;
The furrow lies fresh ; this year will be
As the years that aro past have beeu.
Fall gently and still, eto.
0!d Mother, receive this corn,
The seed of six thousand golden sires ;
Alt these on thy kindiy breast were bom;
One more thy poor child requires.
For gently and still, etc.
Now ateady and en re again,
And moaettre of step and stroke we koep;
Thus up and thus down,wo cast our grain ;
How well, and yon gladly reap,
Fall gently and still, etc.
—Thomas Carlyle.
• MOTHER CAREY'S CUSHION."
"Now, Octavia," said Mrs. Oland,
"dobe a little oaraful to-day. Don't,
for pily's sake, let your wild spirits
ran away with yon!"
Octavia Oland, in her pink muslin
dress, tied here and there with jannty
little bows of ribbon, and a straw gyp
tj hat garlanded with pink poppies,
turned around, the very incarnation of
radiant glee.
"Mamma," said she, "why should
you grndge me my little holiday?
Don't I work behind Miss Fanshawe's
counter all the year like any Afrioan
slave ? Don't I lose my very identity
in shirs and puffings, and toil my fin
gers off in flonnoes and tncks I Do let
me play I am a child again just this
once 1"
Bo this beautiful yonng Enphrosyne
danced away, leaving only the sweet
echo of her laughter in the gloomy
apartment, and Mrs. Oland sighed.
"She is so thoughtless," said the
mother. "And Dnnoan Ray and Harry
Bolton are both going on this sailing
party—and somehow I feel as if to-day
were going to be the tnrning point of
her life. I wish she oonld bring her
self to like Danoan—he's a steady,
noble-sonled lad, as his father was be
fore him, bat there isn't much outside
Show about him. And Bolton's a hand-
Some, dashing young fellow, jnst the
sort to aitraot any girl. Bat somehow
I can't qnite believe in him. Octavia
Says I haven't any knowledge of the
world. Well, perhaps she is right.
But I think we qniet, stay-at-home
bodies are sometimes gifted with a sort
of instinot in these matters."
The day was all sparkle and sunshine
the excursion steamer, flittering with
gay flags and sound of music, glided
taajeetioally along; the sea air breathed
hew strength into weary lungs and
touched fevered brows with achemio
power; and all these over tired, over
worked sewing girls forgot for a brief
while that life was n >thing more than a
irea 1 mill to th m.
They laughed, they danced, they
lang; they flung flowers into the water
that floated around the wheel house,
they counted the glimmering sails that
lamed up against the horizon; and
fitmlly w' en the boat landed at White
Crags they all scattered in various di
rections over the silver shingled beach
in merry pursuit of shells, sea we'd and
pebbles, as so many niwly liberated
school ohildren might have done.
And Ootavia Oland, the prettiest girl
in all the throng, r-igned as a sort of
princess among them.
"Mother Carey's Cu-hion?" said she;
merrily, echoing the w >rds of an ancient
aalt who was mending his nets in a
•nnuy spot with an old pipe in hie
month, and a piotnresqne long bard
blowing übont f n the wind. "Is that
what they call yonder rock ?"
"That 'ere's what they hails her by,
lady-miss," said the old sailor, his dim
eyes resting wi h evident approbation
on Ootavia's fresh young lilies and
roses. "And wall it's knowed here
abouts."
" But why do they call it so-?" per
•is'el the girl.
"Bicausc cf the onshion, my lady
rait-8," answered tue ti-herrqarj, laying
his pipe down on the sand out ot
respect <o fcbi< (ham ng yonng pres
ence. "And the Mother Carey's
chickens as circle round the point of
a dark day when there's a st >rtn
oomin'up It's a round rode, near to
the top—d'ye see?" pointing his knotty
forefinger—"with grass and mosses
growin' on it, in a circle, like a cushion.
And a back, all of the nateral rock.
There's them, my ladr-mias," he added,
"as has climbed to the very top and
sat on the cushion. I and my sweet
heart—as has been dead these thirty
years—did once. But we didn't care
to stay there long. I tell ye. For the
wind howled and the seagulls shrieked,
and the tide roared like a hungry shark
around as, and it was as much as evei
we oonld do to get down again with
whole bones."
"Why," said Bolton, "itdoesn't loo)
rraeb a height."
" Mebbe not—mrbbe not I ' said thi
old man. "A quarter of a mile makei
a (leal o' difference in the look of things.
And them as ain't used to distanoea
cu't calculate."
And he went on with his work while
the little group strolled on, bright Oc
tavia with her ribbons and ourls float
ing, Bolton carrying her shawl and
Dunoan Bay walking silently on the
other side.
And jnst then another gay throng
overtook them and there was a dis
oussion as to where the site should be
for their impromptu banquet; and
presently Dunoan Ray looked around.
" Where's Octavia ?" he asked.
Everybody hud some answer to make.
Anriette Hall had seen her not five
minutes before ; Helen Ray was quite
certain that she was hiding behind the
mined boat-honse on the edge of the
beach ; Lois Fielding suggested that
she Lad probably gone back to the
steamer for a scent-bottle or a hand
kerchief, or some such trifle.
" She'll be here presently," said they.
" In the meantime, let ns get the lunoh
ready, for there's a dark little edge of
olond down in the west that the oap
tain says he don't half-like the looksof."
And where all this time was Oc
tavia Oland f
She was springing np the steep and
winding ledge of the rook, quicker and
lighter than any mountain chamois, her
veil floating back like a white wreath of
mist, an exquisite scarlet dyeing her
cheek.
" If other people can climb to Mother
Carey's Cushion, so can I," said daunt
less Octavia, keeping her faoe reso
lutely away from the furious waves
that boiled and raged below, lest, per
obanoe, it sbonld render her giddy.
" And how astonished they will be
when tbey see me waving my hand
kerchief to them from that dizzy
peak 1"
Long before the cold fowls, chicken
salad and sandwiches were spread upon
the grass the captain came np from the
steamer.
"Ladies and gentlemen," said he,
" Fm sorry to spoil sport, bnt there's a
sqnall brewin', if ever there was one,
and we'll all be safer well ont at sea
than on these ragged points of rook>
especially as the tide is oomin' in a deaf
faster than we'd calculated on. So il
you'll all step lively I shall be partic
ularly obliged."
The ladies began hurriedly to pack
the as yet incomplete repast, and to
gather up their hats, veils, parasols and
gloves—the gentlemen looked around
for shawl-straps, books and baskets;
a nd once again ran the question:
" But. Octavia 1 Where is Ootavia?"
And Dorsey Wheeler, straining his
eyes through the gray mist whioh was
already beginning to gather over the
landscape, exolaimed:
"Who has an opera-glass T I see
something on that tall rock that seems
to lean toward the water— BO in e thing, I
am quite certain, whioh moves 1!'
The oaptain produced his glass.
"Though, to be sure," said hfe,
" glasses ain't much use in a
plaguey Bootch mist as this. But I de
clare, there is something up there flut
tering in the wind, like some one waving
a signal of distress I"
Bolton snatched the glass from the
veteran's band and hurriedly adjusted
it to his own eyes.
"It is Ootavia's veil," he said. " I
can see the pink flowers like little dots
of oolor on her head. Good heavens I
and she has been mad enough to climb
that rock, all for a spirit of crazy ad
venture 1"
'• It's a bad job for her, then," said
the old fisherman, who, having left his
nets to take care of themselves, had
mingled, black pipe and all, in the gen
eral confusion. " For now the tide is
in, there ain't nobody nor nothin' can
get near Mother Carey's Bocks; and if
the wind rises, as it's goin' to do, she'll
be bio wed into kingdom come at the
very first puff I'
" Oan nobody help her ?" oriel the
horrified group.
Tae ol I sab. shook his head.
"You'd only come to ycur own
death," said he, "without helpin* her a
mite. There wa-> a man killed there
twenty one year ago oome October.
He—"
"We are losing time," said the cap
tain, impatiently. "There's a blaok
squall driving np on the wind,' and I d
nut give mnob for onr lives if we don't
get clear of them ocnfotnded rooks.
Of course we're all sorry for the yonng
lady ; bnt so far as I can see she'll have
to take the consequences of her own
folly. It's impossible to risk a whole
barge-load for her. Ladies and gen
tlemen, all forward now, if yon pleaset'
Bat Dancan Ray stepped oat from
the ranks. ,
Bolton 1" said he. "McDowell I
Ohri -tiau men, all of yon 1 Are yon
1 going deliberately off to leave the
sweetest and most precious of oar
number to perish in the winds and
: waves?'
I—l don't see that we can do any
-1 thing!" sUmmered Bolton. "This'
good man says that we should not ritk
- eur own lives to no purpose."
"And you must see, yourself," added
B Mr. Ltuncelot McDowell, "that ft
1 Would he oerUin death to try to cross
the water, now that the tide is rising so
> fasti*
"There's no time to parley I" said
• the oaptain, impatiently. " The bell
will ring direotly, and whoever isn't on
board then isn't on board at all I Eh !
Where are yon going, Mr. Ray ?"
"To the top of yonder cliff," said
Dnncan, palling his bat resolutely over
his brows. "To resjue that girl or to
die in the attempt 1"
Bat at the same moment a slender
figure, with a zephyr shawl drawn
lightly over its head, stepped out from
behind the old bulkhead—Ootavia
Oland herself.
"Do not risk your life, Dnnoan Ray!''
she said, in a sweet, olear voice. " I
am qnite safe. My veil and hat blew
off, and I conld not disentangle them
from the sharp recks. Rnt I, myself,
was fortunate enongh to make good my
retreat before the dreadful wind got too
high. And I came np behind yon all,
and heard your talk, and—and— Oh,
Dnncan, I can't bear to think of it all 1
Let ns go back to the steamer as fast as
we can, and get out of this frightful
place I"
She covered her eyes with one hand
as she spoke, while with the other she
olnng to Dnncan Ray's arm, as if it
were a refuge beyond all computation.
Bat all the way baok to New York
she never once condescended to speak
to Harry Bolton or Mr. McDowell; and
when she returned home that evening
she was engaged to Dnncan Ray.
" For I know now," she said, with a
little tremor in her voice, "who, and
who alone, wonld have risked his life
for such a silly ohild as 11"
And Harry Bolton and Mr. McDowell
felt like recreant kDights, indeed I
"Deoidedly awkward I" said the
former.
" Yes," assented the latter. "Pats
one—ahem!—in such an awkward posi
tion.—Helen Forrcnt Graves.
A Girl's Experiment With Her Lovers.
The presence of a big black bear in
the neighborhood of Enller, Georgia,
recently, has given occasion for several
local scares and a number of newspaper
articles. Miss Mary L. Groat, a young
woman who lives in that vioinity, near
Reynolds, deoided to make use of the
bear in order that she might test the
oonrage and devotion of two rivals far
her hand. She planned that her
brother, disguised in a buffalo
robe, should appear suddenly
in a certain grove during twi
light that evening and that both lovers
should be with ber at the time. The
young men were glad of the opportunity
to be with Miss Groat, neither suspect
ing that they were to pass through the
crucible and come out refined gold or
"306" medal metal. Sammy Groat,
the bear, was delighted with the
soheme, feeling that he could roar her
'as gently as a sucking dove" or
as thunderously as a cyclone in the
wild West. When the sister saw the
disguised brother poke the bear's
head over some bushes she screamed
and pointed toward the object. Both
lovers looked and saw the masquerad
ing-youth. To Miss Groat's surprise*
however, each made for the animal and
the discharge of three or four revolver
sbots added to the surprise. The bear
took to its heals and the young woman
frantioally appealed to her lovers not to
shoot. Bam my got home without a
soratch and shortly afterward the ro
mantic girl, with an admirer at each
hand, also returned, all considerably
excited by the incident.
A City of Perfumes.
The Tunisian Arabs have a passion
for flowers, and as soon as their spring
commeno: s even the poorest and rag
gedest may be seen with a delicately
scented blossom stuck ab~>ve the ear.
The perfumes dis'illed at Tunis have
been famous from time immemorial.
There is one very large, rather pale rose
in particular, from whioh the famous
attar is extracted, whioh exhales an odor
so powerful and yet so delicate that it
scarcely reems a figure of speech to
speak of "odors of paradise," and one
can understand that the Mohamme
dan's heaven would hardly be oom
nlete without it. But at Tunis it is
not only the rose which is made to
yield up its sweet brrath, to be after
ward imprisoned in ounning little oas
kets and sparkling crystal fla-ks en
riched with gilding; the odors of ihe
violet, tli9 jasmine, the orange flower,
and many others, are extract* d with
equal skill, and in the bazaars mingle
their scents with tho perfume of san
dal wood and other sweet smelling
woods, and- with that of the curious
most odoriferous dark substance which
the natives call amber. If yon go to
1 buy perfumes the vender wi II perhaps
offer yon a little ivory box or poroelajn
1 vase containing a scented ungent for.
the hair, or may be a string of beads to
■ hang ronnd yonr neck, apparently think
i ing it of small oonseq tencein what way
t you perfume your person so that the de
sired odor is oonveyed to the senses,
i In Arab households inoense and sandal
t wood are frequently burned on oharooel
si brasners.—CAnstuw* Bmiakr.
THEIII IIAIK TURNED WHITE.
Cnsoa In Wlil'-H Person*' Hair Tamed
(Suddenly Wbl'e Through irlulit.
Instances have not been wanting of
the hair being deprived of its color in
a few minutes. The home-coming of
the king of Naples after the congress
of Laybach was oelebrated with much
public rejoicing. To do the occasion
honor, the manager of the San Carlo
theatre produced a grand mythological
pageant, in which an afterward well
known opera singer m-ule his debut in
the character of Jupiter. The stage
thunder rolled, the stage-lightning
flashed, us the Olympian monarch de
manded on his cloud-eupportod throne
Suddenly screams of horror ran through
the house ; the queen fainted, and all
was uproar and consternation, until
the voice of the king was
heard above the din, ory
ing, "If any one person shonts or screams
again I'll have that person shot!"
Sjmething bad gone wrong with the
machinery before the clouds had de
scended ten feet, and Jupiter had fallen
through. Fortunately a strong iron wire
or rope oaught his cloak,[and, uncoiling
with his weight, let him down by de
grees. But a workman falling with him
was impaled upon a strong iron spike
upporting the soeaery. In ten minutes
or so they reached the ground, the
workman dead, the singer dazed, but
able to thank heaven on his knees for
his escape; and then the awe-stricken
people saw that the blaek -haired deity
l a 1 beoome into a white
haired mortal, whose youthful features
formed a strange contrast to their ven
erable-looking crown.
Believing that a fortune might be
easily won in the oil conntry, a young
Bostonian went there to enrich himself
One stormy night a glare in the sky told
him that an oil tank was on Are a few
miles off; and, knowing that after a
time the oil would boil up aud flow over
the side of the tank, he made for a hill
to witness the spectacle. " She's com
ing," a man shouted. There was a rum
bling sound, and then the burning oil
shot up from the tank, boiled over its
sides and floated down the creek, de
stroying everything in its way and set
ting fire to a seoond tank. Ouriosity
getting the better of discretion, he ran
to the ground in the rear of the tanks to
get a better view, and in trying to avoid
a pool of burning oil fell into a mud
hole and Rtuck fast. Struggling till he
could struggle no longer, he lay back
exhausted, watching the billows of
smoke surging upward and floating
away into spies. Suddenly his ears j
were startled by the sound of cannon
firing ; a oolumn of flame aud amoke
shot up from one of the tanks, and he
was stricken almost senseless with the
knowledge that the "pipe line men"
were cannonading the first tank, to
draw off the oil, and so prevent another
oveiflow. He tried to shout, but the
words would not come. A little stream
of burning oil ran slowly but surely to
ward bim. He watched it creeping on
until it was almost upon him; then
in a moment all was dark.
When he came back to conscious
ness, he found himself in his own room,
surrounded by "the boys," who had
seen him just in time to save him. It
was a weary while before he was himself
again, and then he was inclined to
doubt if he was himself, for his onoe
dark bair was perfectly white.
Staff Sorgeon Parry, while seiving in
India, during the mutiny, saw a strange
sight. Among the prisoners taken
in a skirmish at Obarada was a
sepoy of the Bengal army. He was
brought before the authorities, aud
put to the question. Fully alive
to his position, the Bengalee stood
almost stupefied with fear, trembling
greatly, with horror and despair plainly
depioted on his countenanoe. While
the examination was pi ooeeding the by
standers were startled by the sergeant
in charge of the prisoner exclaiming,
"He is turning gray 1" All eyes were
turned on th# unfortunate man, watch
ing with wondering interest the change
comiug upon his splendid glossy Jet
black locks. In half an hour they
were of a uniform grayish hue.
Some years ago a young lady who
was anxionnly awaiting the coming of
her husband eleot received a letter oon.
veving the sad tidings of his ship
wreok and death. Bbe instantly fell to
the ground insensible, and so remained
five hours. On the following morning
her sister saw that her hair, whioh had
been previously of a rioh brown color,
bad beoome as wLitoas a cambric hand
kerchief, her eyebrows and eyelashes J
retaining their natural oolor. After
a while the whitened hair fell
off, and was succeeded by a new
growth of gray. This case coming nn
d<r the observation of Dr. Erasmus
Wilson, shattered his unbelief in the
possibility of the sadden conversion of
the hair from a dark oolor to snow
white. No msn knows more about the
hair than Dr. Wilson, but he is at a loss
to explain tho ph-ni menon quite to his
suttsfaotinn. The whitening of the hair
wrought by mental disturbance is some'
times only of a partial nature.
Vexation of spirit gave Henry of
Navarre a particolored mustache.
An old writer tells of an Irish captain
going to deliver himself np to Lord
Broghill, the commander of the English
forces, who, being met on his way by a
party of Eoglish soldiers, was made pris
oner, and was so apprehensive of being
put to death before Lord Broghill oould
interf. re in his behalf that the anxiet.
of his mind turned some of his 1 .cks
quite white, while the others remained
of their original reddish hue. Perhaps
the curious change was less annoying to
its victim than that which befel an
Amerioan girl, whose first intimation
of her lover's falsity was the reading
of an account of his marriage
in a newspaper. After a nighi's
brooding over the traitor's perfidy, her
looking glass showed her that one sid.
of her he id was still adorned with
tresses of golden brown; but the other,
alas I was decked with looks more be"
fitting a grandam than a maiden still in
her teens; though even this was not so
bad as was the case of a French girl,
who, frightened by the floor of her
room giving way beneath her, shed her
hair so quickly that in|tbree days' time
she was—to use the expressive compari
son of a chronicler of the event—" as
bald as a bell-handle."— Chamber* 1 Jour
nal.
A Revolting Spectacle.
One may sometimes hear from the
lips of a discontented Arab peasant in
Lower Egypt the remark that he is
being# 4 ' trampled npon like a man at
the Do6eh." This oomparison would
come home with peculiar force to any
good Mohammedan in Cairo or Alex
andria, to whom the strange oeremonj
in question is qnite a familiar spectacle.
At the close of one of the great religions
festivals of the Moslem year a number
of Arabs are seen to detach themselves
from the crowd and to lie down side by
side in the dust, face downward, like
logs upon a "oorduroy" road, while
their friends, crowding around them,
press down an arm here and a limb there,
in order to make this living pavement
as compact as possible. When all is ready
the crowd falls back, while a horseman,
coming up from behind, passes at a
quick walk over the prostrate bodies'
This is callod the Doseh, or "tramp
ling." Each man rcoeives the full
pressure of the iron-shod hoof in the
small of his back, and not a few may be
seen to writhe under it like trodden
worms. The moment this horrible
pageant is over the friends and relatives
of the trampled men rush up to them
and do their utmost to make it appear
that they have sustained no injury from
the pressure. The odious farce, how
ever, is always unsuccessful, the groans
and writhings of the sufferers being a
very sufficient evidenoe to the oontrary.
The whole spectacle is revolting in the
extreme, but deserves attention as a
striking proof of the lengths to which
superstition and fanaticism can go, even
in an age of highly developed civilisa
tion.
A Medio/ of Facts.
There are two thousand seven hun
dred and fifty languages. Two persons
die every second. Sound moves seven
hundred and forty-three miles per hour
A square mile contains six hnndred and
forty acres. A storm blows thirty-six
miles per honr. The average human
life is thirty-one years. An aore con
tains four thousand eight hundred and
forty square yards. Slow rivers fl >w
five miles per honr. A hurricane moves
eighty miles per honr. Arifle-bal
moves one thonsand miles per honr.
Rapid rivers flow seven miles
per honr. A hand (horse
measure) is four inches. Electricity
moves two hnndred and eighty-eight
thonsand miles per hour. The first
lnoifer match was made in 1829. Gold
was disoovered in California in 1848.
A mile is five thousand two hnndred
and eighty feet, or one thousand seven
hundred and titty yards in length. A
moderate wind blows seven miles per
hour. The first use of a locomotive in
America was in 182a The first steam
engine on the oontinent of America was
brought from England in 1753. Until
1776, ootton spinning was performed by
the hand spinning wheel.
A Yalnable Button.
It is probable that Mr. Fritsoh, of
New York, will be the first man in
America to offer a reward for a button.
He was presented last season with a set
of twelve large buttons for his coach
ing club top coat. Thoy were sent
from across tho ocean, hand-made, and
entirely unique. Each button bears a
miniature punting of some coaching
scene—the stables, the start, on the
road, reaching home, and so on. With
out any of these buttons the set is in
complete, and its beauty is spoiled.
One of them ha* mysteriously disap
peared since the spring parade.
Whether it is lost, strayed, or stolen,
nobody knows. And it would not be
well for the thief, if it is stolen, to let
some of the muscular members of the
coaohing club lay hands on him, tor
the buttons are the club's pets.
About $25,000,000 are now given to
foreign missions where but $1,000,000
was given aixty yeers ago.
"KOUMISS."
An Ailatlr SrTtrngt thnr fl.rmne H#tf4
During UilU' Illnrna-fta Allege*
Virtue*.
" The nee of koumiss has grown very
much in this country," said a physician.
" since it was used by the doct >rs in
the case of President Garfield, when he
could not take other food. It promises
to be a popular drink all through this.j
country, and it is now habitatlly ueejS
in many private families, and, I believe, '
can be obtained at some bars and drug
stores."
" What is koumiss ?" J
"It is a beverage which has been used
for centuries by the nomadic tribes of
Asia, and was discovered in Tartary by
a traveler. It is made by the Tartars
of mare's milk, and a liquor was fer
mented from it which was most palata
ble. It is, however, now made of pore
cows' milk, with the addition of a little
sugar, thus making it chemically equal
to mare's milk. It is now regarded as
a great cure for dyspepsia. At Ananieff.
on the Volga river, near Samara, RUB,
is, there has been eetablishel a Koum
iss cure, to whioh thousands of invalids,
some from this oountry, go. The
foundation of the oourse of treatment
given here is the milk diet. The ad
vantage of koumiss is that the first
process of digestion, namely, fermenta
tion, occurs before it is taken, and the
generation of a small percentage of
aloohol relieves the stomach of car
bonic acid gas, one of the most dis
tressing symptoms of dyspepsia. The
koumiss assimilates most perfectly with
the organs of digestion without taxing
them, and it goes, as the saying is, to
the right spot. The best thing about*
this delicious drink is that it can be
made at home and at a cost of about
fifteen cents a quart."
" How is it made ?"
" The best formula is furnished by
Dr. John G. Johnson, of Brooklyn, and
it is as follows :
" Fill a quart bottle up to the neck
with pure milk; add two tablespoonfuls
of white sngar, after dissolving the
same in a little water over a hot fire;
add also a quarter of a two-cent cake of
compressed yeast Then tie the oork
on the bottle securely, and shake thai
mixture well; place it in a room of the*
temperature of 50** to 95" Fahrenheit
for six hours, and finally in the ice boa(
over night Drink in such quantities as
the stomach may require. It will be
well to observe several important in
junctions in preparing the koumiss, and
they are: First, to be sure that the
milk is pnre ; second, that the bottle is
sound; third, that the yeast is fresh;
fourth, to open the mixtnre in the morn- >
ing with great care, en account of iM
effervescent properties; fifth, not toi
drink it at all if there is any curdle orj
thickened part resembling oheese, aaj
this indicates that the fermentation has
been prolonged beyond the proper
time.
" The American habit is to make the
koumiss as it is need, bnt under oertain
conditions the beverage will keep for ,
some time, and age will improve its j
flavor and strength as it does elooholie
liquors. It is transported in akin
bottles in Tartary."
•'Bow dees it taste 7*
"It has a delicious and pungent taste,
nnlike any other beverage, and, while
it stimnlatee and refreshes, there is no
enervation or prostration following it.
The medical faculty has long been
seeking a beverage that wonld nourish
and sustain as well as give strength for
the moment, and it is believed that
konmiss supplies the want. As dyspep
sia is a sort of a national disease with
ns, this enre ahoald be a national bless
ing. Glever yonng women on the farms
of onr country could not give more cheer
to the evening meal than by supplying
the tired men with konmiss. It is a
beverage for colleges and boarding
schools, and I think it may care dip
somania. I repeat, it shonld bo made
at home and with care, and only pnre
milk shonld be used."—Vets Fori Sun.
A Chicken Trade.
Captain Faraow, of laleboro, Me.,
tells a good story at his own expense.
The oaptain was trading in a small Tas
sel along the ooast, and at Tampa bay he
parohased twenty dosen chickens, pay
ing Sla dosen for them. They were of
all ages and sixes, some being ready for
the pot and others soatoely done with
their shells. At Key West a hotel
keeper came along side and asked the
prioe of the ohiokens. Ths oaptain an
swered: "If yon piok them ont I shall
oharge yon $6 a dosen; bnt if yon will,
let me pick them ont yon can htvetheni
for $3 a dosen." "All right," said the'
hotel man, "yon piok them ont." The;
oaptain seleoted several dosens of the
flsdglings, expecting [every moment to
hoar the pnrohaaer cry "enough." Bq|
stdl hsaid "go on." The oaptain saw
the point at last, bnt he stnok to hi*
bargain and "seleoted ' the entire lot, st
a net loss to himself of S2O.
Lightning struck the barn of Dr. P.
M. Stanbrongh, near Newburg, N. Y.,
killing a horse and severely injuring
his son Clarence, yet w thont doing the
1 least damage to tho building.