'mm C, Cffitr Hil Putl.sher ILLINOIS. WHENCE AMD WHTtttK R. ona rook not answer; KSKHKNSw» tader, wlwre? e th« Stan? and who their dAnoee In the bine? thejr aav from morn of their rmoe? vrhither, to what Place? do they And vest, and on what Breast? and whither go the Clonds, «* mrmtmts and in shrouds? :away. > nlfht and day, teshadowso'er amagici •they pus. and P*««, *n« " g orttfc themselves In ] j filling now again. Who aend* them. And end* them? , when all is done, befriend® thet&T ••I* fe have many R sharp diviner rhoughysARtnch savants an liner), lut they do not fetch the rain, : (or they have no means of making It, " '• h #/ [ore ... k) for It either 1 lot somehow they seem to hare 1 Can not seethe Wind, Jbovo, before, behtod. know not whenoe it Is, ther from bale or bliss; it all the same I know It, I am what yon call a poet., (eel what makee it come and 1 id rage and worry and roar, I live, yon see, on the shor„ the blasts of Afrlc blow, i t1 shall never know ow the luscious earn doth grow, eeterday--yes, it was yesterday-- • ~ re was not a blade of grass in my fitfla, t Is thick to-day as* warrior's shieMU 'or, look to-day, and look far away, f :t Is fresh and green, ' jlnd the sky over all is serene. Who gave It this power to bring forth? ISwho and what save the Earth, . Who folds us all in her broad arms' _ This yonng old Mother, the Earth?" •--& H. Stoddard, in Harper'» Maaazim*. yM't ... s*>r sdhE POUND PARTY. BT THANE TAYLOR. v' Next to the little gothic church in • • Jforndale is the parsonage, a very pleas ant place in summer, when the honey- suckle, which almost covers it, is in full Moom, but now the sharp November -wind is sweeping around it, and the parsons family are shivering over their •Canty sitting-room fire. - Bessie is looking out of the window, Kbd presently litters an exclamation of delight, when Kenneth, a hearty lad of 10, rushes in at the gate, enters with a great clatter, and throwing down his «late cries: "Bother take arithmetic for one day •ft least! To-morrow's Thanksgiving, thicks, and we must have some fun." "What an amount of cold you bring ID with you, my son!" said the mother, who was trying to mend a torn shoe fbr little Rose. "Not quite so much noise, my dears," added she gently, as lier husband, the pale scholarly parson, «fcme out of his study. Holding his stiffened fingers over the grate, he said to his wife. rr "I think hereafter we had better ; keep up only one fire. I will move my desk in here and use the extra fuel to make this room warmer. Where is .r JButn?" "She is giving Mf. Patter's daughter music lesson." "Here she comes, all covered with •nowflakee," cried Rose, springing to the door, which was opened by a quick hand and a beautiful, high-spirited girl entered. . b "(frand news, father!" she exclaimed, a slightly sarcastic curl of her ex- Ipressive lips. "They are going to surprise you to night a pound party. The whole •dhurch will be here with their arms full presents." •. This announcement affected each < jfcember of the family differently. < ! The pastor, with unmoved ccrunte- Bance, sat thoughtfully resting his Itead upon one hand, then rose abrupt- t, without uttering a word, and went to his study again. "I am sure we ought to feel very thankful," remarked his meek and pa tient wife, "for I really did not know what we were to do for to-morrow's din ner." "That's the tronble every day .isn't it, mother?" put in the boy, laughing. "I . hope they will bring provisions enough .ijko last us all winter." 't "If the church would pay father his ; Regular salary we should not be in need <0f charity," burst forth the impulsive (MM, as it turned out, - ;*? A. » <a fefc. of the ol furnitttre, theirpawnta amused them- officious set the table with Mrs. Bertrand's best blue dishes, and spread thereon the laxgwr part of their contributions. The rest were piled on another table. Then the feast began, with great enjoyment and noise. There was one parcel which the church warden seemed very anxious to conceal until the right moment--just at the end of supper -- then he arose stiffly, made a signal for silence, and, with great importance, delivered a trite but carefully-prepared speech, allud ing to the "kind care of Providence," "the advantages of adversity," the no bility of "heroio endurance," and of "renouncing cupidity," closing these practical suggestions by presenting his pastor with a substantially-bound copy of "Fox's Book of Martyrs." The gift was received with becoming dignity, and if, in his secret heart, the pastor wished they had given him the value of the volume in money to buy his little Rose a pair of shoes, no sign of discontent was apparent. When the last guest had departed with a blessing, and the younger chil dren had been hurried off to bed, then the indignation of the incorrigible Ruth burst forth. With wrathful energy she was setting the disordered bouse to rights. "Look here, mother, the springs of father's arm-chair are all broken down. The sofa corner is torn. A pitcher of cream has been spilled over the carpet, and a great hole is burned in your best tablecloth, where Sally Price tipped over a candle. That's one side of the affair--no--stay--here's one of the blue plates broken. Now, Kenneth, you are hovering over the presents, please tell us what you find to our credit." "Well," responded the ln>y, "here's a valuable bottle of pickles, to begin with. I'm fond of pickles, you know. Second item, a fine patch-work quilt." "Oh, yes!" interrupted his sister, "the sewing society have been at work on that for a month. I suspected it was for us." "Don't interrupt, sis. It won't take long to inn through the list. I say, how is this for a tidy, with pincushion to match ? Ah, and a jar of jam, a big head-cheese, dozen candles and a pair of ear-muffs." "Well, have you finished?" said Ruth, as the boy paused. "Yea; that's all, except some pies, and a pumpkin to make more. So you see the pound party has turne4 oat very well for us, after all." Ruth laughed, ironieally. " "I heard Deacon Brown ought not to expect anything more of the church this winter. It's worth while, truly, for man of talent like my father to go through Harvard, in order to min ister to such smail-souled people. But, mother, I have not told you of an offer* ing I had on my own account." "What was it, Ruth? Of course, you accepted!" cried Kenneth, eagerly. "Not I," said Ruth, rather demurely. "Mother, I have been obliged to refuse the hand and heart of the Rev. Arthur Bromley." "Oh, my daughter! Can it be possi ble you refused that fine young man ?" exclaimed Mrs. Bertrand, looking up in surprise. And then* with a sigh of re gret, she added, "I really wish you could have loved him." my! <em flrffaf. -. in ically. "I had rather marry a circus rider than a noor mnntrr minister! tgirL "It made my cheeks burn just 4low to hear Mrs. Potter's visitors talk ing of us as though we were common Jbeggars. Oh! I hate every one of * *them, and I nearly bit my tongue off to ^prevent myBelf from telling them so." • "Ruth! Ruth! you forget yourself; y^-|ind you are setting a bad example," #oftly remonstrated Mrs. Bertrand. •' , "Forgive me, mother, if I shock you. ? * "' £ was irritated by the patronizing airs $vv,. •; <>f people who are incapable of appreci- ' itting father's eloquent sermons. The r' i Whole interest of this village is in the ; church, and its members 'are able and ' ^hofald pay their pastor his salary in jnoney instead of substituting paltry gifts of food. That's just what the pound party means. There, I've spoken any mind, and 1 really feel better for V -it." . "I'm glad your father has not heard " on, Ruth; your want of humility ould greatly distress him. But come, ve, if we are to have company to- £ Jnight there is much to do." The warm-hearted girl threw her * *jarms around her mother's nock, and, k, -if'kissing her fondly, whispered: v , "It's for your sake, sweetest mother, that I am so vexed. I cannot bear to ?5?v* «e® you suffering privation so patiently, I forgot to tell you that the Rev. t 5 * Mr. Bromley is to be here too." fc' • The last sentence was uttered archly, for the tall, fair-haired pastor of the ^ neighboring village was an ardent ad- anirer of mad-cap Ruth, the very last person one would suppose suitable for a minister's wife. Mrs. Bertrand, however, was partial to him and thought it would be a fort unate settlement for her daughter. "I hope you will be more civil than usual Co him, my dear. I fear you -treat him very ill sometimes." Ruth laughed gayly and tossed her pretty head. Experience taught her that, however -willful and erratic she might be, every male heart was bound to surrender. At 6 o'clock there was a great rum ble and stir outside, followed by a loud knock at the door, and, when Kenneth answered the besiegers, all Ferndale poured into the house, dressed in their oast, complacent and laughing, and de termined to have a good time. Every f, Bertran wife. tried on the cap, and, as he did so, out fell fto poor worn pocket-book oi thair lost daughter. Kenneth quickly opened the purse. It contained $5. "It Is Buth who has sent it!" ex claimed the father, in tremulous tones. "She still lives and remembers us. Heavenly Father, I thank Thee, and I implore Thee to restore frar to us un harmed!" They now believed firmly that Ruth would some day return to them. Early in the new year the pastor of Ferndale grew Tery ill and gradually became more feeble, until it was evi dent he was wasting away with con sumption, and when Christmas came round once more he was dying. Another pastor already filled his place and received the salary. Occasionally the parish offered as sistance, but it had been necessary for Kenneth to go to work as errand boy in the country store, and Bessie, small as Bhe was, earned a trifle by 'tending baby for a rich neighbor. Christmas eve, both were home, and all were gathered together in the old sitting-room. There was only one can dle burning and the fire was low in the grate. Mrs. Bertrand had sold the last article of value in the house for medicine, and sat watching her dying husband with a breaking heart. "Mamma," whispered Rose, "I wish I could have a little more porridge. I'm so hungry." Mr?. Bertrand sighed deeply, and her eyes, «o used to weeping of late, filled with blinding tears. "You had better leave it for your breakfast, dear," said she. "There is so little left." The invalid heard his child ask in vain for food, and faintly moaned: "Ruth! Ruth! If she were here she could help you." Then, starting up in bed with miraculous strength, he stared wildly and cried: "Ah! it is she!" and pointed to the door. All turned in dreadful alarm, and there, indeed, stood the lopt Ruth, dressed exactly as when she went away, but more beautiful and self-reliant than ever. Her eyes were fixed on the invalid, as his on her, but only for an instant. With an exclamation of grief, she flew to the bedside, and was folded in her father's arms. The excitement of great joy had lent him a moment's strength, but soon he sank back exhausted. "My precious mother," said Ruth, embracing the wasted form. "What a change is here!" "Oh, Ruth! dear child; where have you been, and why did you cause us so much sorrow?" "Forgive me mother. Our poverty maddened me, and I left to become an opera singer. I knew you would never consent, so I was obliged to disappear mysteriously. I first sang before a dis tinguished musician, and he at once en gaged me to go to Europe with the opera troupe of which he was manager. I studied hard and have gained both fame and wealth. Take courage, moth er, your troubles are ended." h'-i V poor country minister There is too much hypocrisy in it for me. If I chanced to fall in love with a village parson it might be different, but as yet I am absolutely heart whole." Mrs. Bertrand sighed again, and took np her bedroom candle. Ruth was so willful and hot-headed that there was danger of her taking some rash step. It was the Sunday night before Christ mas. The Bertrand family had just come home from church, where Ruth sang in the choir, and on this particu lar Sabbath she had rendered a solo more difficult than any hitherto at tempted, and her voice seemed sudden ly to have acquired a wonderful flexi bility and power. "I sav, sister," said Kenneth, in his rude, boyish fashion, "you sang like an angel to-day. I wonder if the opera singers can do better than that?" Ruth made no reply, but her brother's words were suggestive, and, while the children chatted about the particular things they longed for, she sat apart from them strangely abstracted, and lost in reverie. "For my part," said Kenneth, "I wish Santa Claus would bring me a fur cap." "And I want a wax doll." "And I, a great big picture book!" cried Rose with dancing eyes. "It's your turn now, sister," said she, running up to the silent one. "Ah! I wish only for money to gratify all these wishes!" and, catching her pet up in her arms, she kissed her a dozeu times and rushed cut of the room. That was the last they saw of their sister Ruth. J Afterward they recalled the deter mined look in her brown eyes, and the unnatural sound of her voice, when she wished for money to buy them Christ mas presents. That night Ruth Bertrand disap peared from her home. They searched for her first in the homes of friends, then through the country, finally in the great cities, but all in vain. The name of Ferndale--never before heard of--became familiar far and wide, and many conjectures as to the cause of her flight were made. As Christmas drew near the Bertrands mourned their daughter aa dead. They were convinced that she had wandered away in a fit of temporary insanity, and had thrown herself into the river, not far distant. The holidays promised to be the sad dest ever known at the parsonage. So much money had been expended in the search that none was left for presents. The children expected nothing, and yet, having secret faith in the tradi tional "Santa Claus," Bessie and Rose on Christmas morning stole into the sit ting room at the first dawn of day, and looked toward the fireplace with flut tering hearts. There was nothing in the stockings they had hung up so slyly the night before, and sadly disappointed the lit tle white-robed figures were about to creep away, when Bessie happened to glance through the window, and there, behold! a pile of beautiful presents. The two children clapped their hands for joy and uttered such wild cries of surprise that father, mother and brother hastened to see what was the matter. "Santa Claus has left our presents on the porch 1" cried both children at once. There was the fur cap Kenneth had wished for; the wax doll and a "great big picture-book" for Rose. Creole Characteristics. Otitarardly the Creoles of the Delta had become a graceful, well-knit race, in full keeping with the freedom of their surroundings. Their complexion lacked color, but it was free from the sallownedb of the Indies. There was a much larger proportion of blondes among them than is commonly sup posed. Generally their hair was of a chestnut, or but little deeper tint, ex cept that in the city a Spanish tincture now and then asserted itself in blatjk hair and eyes. The women were fair, symmetrical, with pleasing features, lively, expressive eyes, well-rounded throats and superb hair; vivacious, de corous, exceedingly tasteful in dress, adorning themselves with superior ef fect in draperies of muslin enriched with embroideries and mu<Jh garniture of lace, but with a more moderate dis play of jewels, which indicated a com munity of limited wealth. They were much superior to the men in quickness of wit, and excelled them in amiability and many other good qualities. The more pronounced faults of the men were generally those moral provincial isms which travelers recount with un due impatience. They are said to have been coarse, boastful, vain; and they were, also, deficient in energy and ap plication, without well-directed ambi tion, unskillful in handicraft--doubt less through negligence only--and-to tally wanting in that community feeling which begets the study of reciprocal rights and obligations, and reveals the individual's advantage in the promotion of the common interest. Hence, the Creoles were fonder of pleasant fictions regarding the salubrity, beauty, good order and advantages of their town, than with measures to justify their as sumptions. With African slavery, they were, of course, licentious, and they were always ready for the duelings ground; yet it need not seem surprising that a people so beset by evil influences from every direction were generally un conscious of & reprehensible state of af fairs, and preserved their self-respect and a proud belief in their moral excel lence. Easily inflamed, they were as easily discouraged, thrown into con fusion and overpowered, and they ex pended the best of their energies in trivial .pleasures, especially the masque and the dam*-; yet they were kind par ents, affectionate wives, tractable chil dren and enthusiastic patriots.--George W. Cable, VM the Century. ,<?• • s Overhanging Trees. . An English paper gives examples of the subtleties of the law as it applies to overhanging trees or vines. An owner, aggrieved by the growth of branches from his neighbor's tree extending over his ground, is recommended to first in timate to the neighbor the existence of the nuisance before proceeding to the extremity of cutting off the branches. But this he can do at any time if he but carefully avoids cutting an atom on his neighbor's side of the line. He must let the loppings lie, however, or send them to the neighbor, and not use them in any way himself. Nor can he take the fruit, even what has fallen on the ground, unless granted to him by the neighbor. The neighbor, on the other hand, must not cross to get it without permission, but, if permission is refused, he may go and get it, sub ject to any damage that he may coinmit. For the withholding of permission con stitutes a taking possession of the frnit. His Domestic Relations. Are your domestic relations agreea ble?" asked a Judge of a colored wit ness. "What's dat conjunction, boss?" "I ask are your family ties pleasant?" "Wall, no, sah. When a 'oman ties a man when he's drunk an' whips him till he's sober, I doan' think dat it's pleas* ant, sah."--Arkansas Traveller. : ; Da. STD whether in t!pI|fj|3W' wood-ashes or i|i the form Cnlphafe or muriate, is a •pedal f0rtili«a*lfcr melons. G-iv* all your farm implements a good coat of paint b<sfore-the time comes-to nse them. It lathe best preserver of all wood and iron exposed to the weather, and costs bat little. No in vestment pays better. POULTRY per ponnd, let the breed be what it may, wQl cost very near the same. One bushel of corn will produce nine to eleven pounds of poultry. It makes no difference whether Leghorns, Plymouth Rocks or Brahmas eat the oorn. THK National Tribune says: "It is not generally known that sorghum is valuable for grazing purposes. It grows quickly after being eaten down, and branches out into a number of succulent shoots, which are highly relished bv live stock of all kinds. With a patch of rye sown in the fall, which will afford good grazing until mid-summer, sup plemented by a sowing of sorghum in May, a supply of succulent pasture may be secured equal in value to any mixture of other kinds of grasses and clovers. THE selection of suitable stocks for grafting is a matter still requiring much scientific experiment. The ob ject of grafting is to expedite and in crease the formation of flowers and fruit. Strong-growing pears, for in stance, are grafted on the quince stock, in order to restrict their tendency to form "gross" shoots and a superabund ance of wood in place of flowers and fruit. Apples, for the same reason, are "worked" on the "paradise" stocks, which, from their influence on the scion, are known as dwarfing stocks. Scions from a tree which is weakly or liable to injury by frosts are strengthened by engrafting on robust stocks. Lindley has pointed out that while in Persia its native country, the peach is proba bly best grafted on the peach, or on its wild type, the almond, in England, the summer temperature of whose soil is much lower than that of Persia, it is most successful on stocks of the native plum. DRYING HAT BT FERMENTATION-- While we, in this country, where the sunshine heat is usually so intense in summer that grass can be made into well-cured hay in a single day, are striving to preserve our fodder in silos without drying it at all, our cousins over the water are attempting to cure their hay independently of sunshine, by regulating the heat of fermentation. Mr. Elisha Dyer, of London, favors us with a forty-four-page pamphlet de scribing the "Neilson system" of curing fodders. This is simply to stack hay or other fodder that has been more or less wilted after mowing, and to so con struct the stacks that the heat generated by fermentation can be pumped out, when cold air will rush in to take the place of the damp, hot air withdrawn. The stacks must not be excessively large, twenty feet in diameter being considered as large as the air can be readily forced through. The center is built with an air-ehamber, into which an exhaust pipe is introduced, at the opposite end of which an exhaust fan is placed for pumping out the air when ever the heat rises to a damaging point, which is determined by a test-rod thrust into the stack. The heated damp air may be pumped out by hand, or, where many stacks are built, a small steam engine or horse-power may be used for doing, tfa, pumping.--New England Farmer.' NEW MODE or TREATING TOMATOES. --My practice is to excavate in the early springtime as many flat turnips as are needed, and, having filled the cavity with earth, plant two or three seeds in it, selecting the best plant when two or three inches high to re main, and pulling out the others. When it is time to set them in the gar den, place the turnip with its contents undisturbed in a hole deep enough to cover the turnip two or three inches. Setting out in*this w^y, there is no cut ting away of the roots, and little need of water, as the plant has noi been in the least disturbed, especially if inured to the air out of doors for a week or two before being set in the garden. I have started tomatoes out so early that the plants were in blossom several days before being set out, not being at all retarded thereby. Cucumbers started in this way I hare had in bloom, with the same result- After being put in the ground the tusnip soon decays, fur nishing a little food for the plant. If the turnips are to be kept long in. the house before setting out it will b& well to put them in lx>x?s, filling the inter-* stices with moss, sand or earth, kept moist, as too long exposure to the hot , air of a warm place will cause the tar- nips to wilt, the earth in which mustbe kept moist, whether the turnip is ini or out of a Country Gentle man. V EXPERIMENTS WITH ENSILAGE.--TL* Report of the New Jersey Agricultural Experiment Station is filled with val uable information relating to the ex periments conducted by Prof. George H. Cook, director, cae of the most im portant of which is the feeding test for determining the comparative value of ensilage and cured fodder corn. The feeding trial was begun on the 6th day of December. Fouir cows were selected from the herd, placed side by side and fed, watered and exercised at the same time for sixty consecutive days. During the first period of twenty days all four cows were fed the same daily ration (made up for eachi 1,000 pounds ot live weight) of twenty pounds dried fodder corn, two pounds, winter wheat bran and thirty poundabrewers' grains. Dur ing the second period of twenty days the daily ration fer two of the cows was the same as during the first period; the other two were- fed ensilage instead of dry fodder corn. For each 1,000 pounds of live weight this second ration was twenty pounds ensilage, two pounds wheat bran and thirty pounds brewer's grains. During the third period all four of the cows were fed GO the ensi lage ration. The dried fodder corn was cut and crushed in a machine that made it palatable for the cows to eat. After the first day or two it was eaten with out waste. During the second period one of the cows seemed unable to eat all of the harder pieces of ensilage, the amount wasted, however, was very small. The two facts seem to ahow, therefore, that dried fodder corn, when cut and crushed, is eaten quite as readily and with as little waste as ensilage. The Director gives the following summary of the facts as shown in the experi ment: First--When green corn was dried in Btacks the loss of food was less than what it was when packed in a silo. Second--When dried corn-fodder was crushed and out it was eaten by the cows quite as eagerly as ensilage. Third--In three cases the yield of milk was not increased when ensilage was days." according to the facts above represented, itisap- parent that the preparation of food has much to do with ite feeding value, for the Director was compelled to cut and otherwise prepare the ensilage before it was packediu the silo, and, as he states above, th4$|bdder corn was not only cut but crushed, its preparation being therefore complete, and could not pos sibly be rejected by the cows. The feed was given according to the live weight of the animal. Such is the method now in vogue, but it may be an erroneous system, as digestibility, ap petite and capacity for the conversion of food into flesh, milk and butter are not always dependent upon the weight or size ~of the animal.--Philadelphia Record. ' DOMESTIC RECIPES. COBN-STARCH PCFFS.--Four eggs beaten separately; one cup of sugar; one cup of corn-starch; one-half cup of butter; one teaspoonful of lemon in the butter and sugar; two teaspoonfuls of baking powder mixed in the corn starch. &• GRAHAM MUFFINS.--One quart of Graham flour, two teaspoonfuls of bak ing-powder, a piece of butter the size of a walnut, one egg, one table-spoonful of sugar, one-half teaspoonful of salt, milk enough to make a batter as thick as for griddle cakes. BOILED HOMINY.--Soak one cup of fine hominy in three cups of water and salt to taste; in the morning turn it into a quart pail; then put the pail into a kettle of boiling water, cover tightly and steam one hour; then add one tea- cupful of sweet milk and boil fifteen minutes. OYSTER PIE.--Allow one, can of oys ters for two pies, roll out your paste and put in your pie pan or dish, then put in oysters and cut up a piece of butter the size of an egg for each pie into small pieces; season with salt and pepper; sprinkle a table-spoonful in each and roll out atop crust; bake from three-fourths of an hour to an hour. BEEFSTEAK SMOTHERED WITH ONIONS. --Put in the skillet a little lard and the steak; peel and sli.ee the onions, and lay 'them over the meat till the skillet is full; season with pepper and salt, cover tightly and place over the fire. After the juice of the onions has boiled away and the meat begins to fry, remove the onions, turn the meat to brown cm the other side, then replace onions as before, being careful that they do not burn. BROILED OYSTERS.--Drain the oys ters in a colander. Dip them one by one into incited butter, to prevent stick ing to the gridiron, and place them on a wire gridiron. Broil over a clear fire. When nicely browned on both sides, season with salt, pepper and plenty of butter, and lay them on hot buttered toast, moistened with a little hot water. Serve very hot, or they will not be nice. Oysters cooked in this way and served on broiled beefsteak are nice. CHICKEN SALAD.--There are as many ways of making chicken salad as there are different kinds of chickens. Here is a common-sense way: Boil a tender chicken, and when cold cut all the meat in dice*. [Remove the tough part of the skin.] Cut up white tender cel ery enough to make the same amount, and mix with the meat. Stir into it a table-spoonful each of mustard and salt, and let it stand an hour or two. When ready to serve mix the whole with a mayonnaise sauce, leaving part to mask the top, or use the mayonnaise alone without the first dressing of vinegar and oiL Lettuce can be substituted for celery, and where neither is obtain able a crisp white cabbage may be chopped fine and the meat of the chicken also, and either a teaspoonful of celery extract or eelery seed used to flavor it. LAMB CUTLETS FRICASSEED.--Take a leg of lamb and cut it into thin cutlets across the grain and put them into a stew-pan; make a sufficient quantity of good stock with the benies, shank, etc., to cover the cutlets; put it into the stew-pan and cover it with a bundle of sweet herbs, an onion, some cloves and mace tied in a muslin bag, and let them stew gently for ten minutes; take out the cutlets, skim off the fat and take out the sweet herbs and mace; thicken it with butter rolled in flour, season it with salt and a little cayenne pepper; add a few mushrooms,, truffles and morels, some forcemeat balls, the yelks of three eggs beaten up in half a pint of cream and some grated nutmeg; keep stirring the same way till it is thick and smooth, and then put in the cutlets; give them a toss up, take them out with a fork and lay them on a dish; pour the sauce over them; garnish with beet-root and lemon.. dr ch I fe^Ho^;i_. under de sacred shingles of Para dise Jptl--a stractauw #hote name am a household word whareber de English language Ipreets de ear. I would rather •tan' heah dan to be buried under a $10,000 monument. "De subfick ob my address am Senti ment. What am sentiment? Whar do we git it, *T>' what, am it worf liv rta pound when de market am not ober- stocked? I answer dat sentiment am a sort o' lasses an' mush anrroundin' de heart. In some cases it hardens up an' turns to stun, while in odders it thins out until de heart fairly floats in a pond o' sweetness. Sentiment has consider- abul to do wid eberv ackuhun in our eberyday life. It am bizness when you start out to borry a pan of flour or a basket ob taters. If, am sentiment dat causes a naybur to lend instead of de- mandin' spot cash. "Bizness acktuates de lazy an' de shiftless to sot out an' beg cold vittles an' old clothes an' dimes an' quarters. Sentiment acktuates women to shed tears ober 'em an' stock 'em up wid 'nuff to loaf on fur another month. When we have a kickin' hoss our sentiment am 'pealed to. We argy dat de safety of our loved ones requires us to trade'dat anamile off to some preacher who wants a perfeckly reliable hoss. Dat's one kind of sentiment. When we buy an excurshun ticket to Niagaria Falls, an' reach de grand cataract arter a thirty hours' sweat on cattle cars, de immense waste of water 'peals to anodder sort o' sentiment. When we luv we reveal another phase of sentiment. If de gal am high-toned an' rich de sentiment am all solid. If she am only aiverage, an' in debt fur her las' corset, de sentiment am purty thin an' won't last longer .dan de first bill fur meat comes in. "My frens, sentiment writes poetry wid one hand an' tans de backs of de chill'en wid de odder. It guides our thoughts to friends ober de sea, an' sends old clothes to relashuns in Wis consin. It makes us shed tears fur de dead, an' yit warns us to cut de under taker's bill down 20 per cent. Senti ment tells us to luv our fellow-men, an' yit whispers to us to lock our doahs an' Elace torpedoes in our hen-roosts. I ave been lookin' into de matter fur de las' forty-eight y'ars, an' I has cum to de conclushun dat it was a wise thing to purvide de human race wid sentiment. If it had bin left out by any accident in de mixin' de bes' man among us wouldn't have got a bid if put up at aucshun along wid a lot of fence-posts. I could talk to you fur three straight weeks on dis subjeck, but obsarvin' dat my half hour am up I will ohopjoff right heah an' hope dat it may be my pleasure at some fucher day to meet you agin. Any pussun who wants his fortune told will find me in de aunty-room fur de nex' two hours." Bank of England Wonders. A story teller, wishing to excite as tonishment by the exaggeration of his statements, said that a famous banking house transacted so lujrge a business that in order to economize they ordered their clerks not to cross their t's nor dot their i's, which resulted in the saving of ink alone in one year off £5,000. Pre posterous as this story seems, it is al most equaled by some of the items which show the magnitude of some of the transactions of the Bank of England. In the course of ftve years that famous institution has paid! T7,T45,000 notes, all over £100, and some reaching, of course, millions of pounds. These could fill 13,400 boxes, which,, if placed side by side, would occupy two and one-third miles. If placed! in a pile these notes would be five and two-thirds miles high, and if joined! end to- end wouid form a ribbon 12„445> miles long. At tbe end of every five years these notes are thrown into a fumsttje and burned. It is a ctmrious fact that so firm is the text ure off a Bank of! England note that even burning can hardly destroy it. The au thorises have ini a little glazed feause the remnants of a note which was; in the great fire of Chiengo, and, though com pletely charred and black, the paper still holds together, and the printing is sufficiently legible to establish its genu ineness and warrant its being; cashed. It is a point of honor with this great in stitution to cash every genuine note, no matter how disfigured. Notes long un der water and reduced almost to an in distinguishable pulp have been duly honored. Even lost notes are sometimes paid, and in one case £30,000 was paid over to a gentleman who. testified that he had destroyed or unintentionally mislaid a note for that amount. Many years after his death the missing note turned up, and as it called for immedi ate payment the money was handed over and the bank lost the amount. The Colored Man and the Hog* A writer in a Northern magazine, wants to know why the negro con stantly figures before the courts of the South. This question is very easily answered. We have been studying the colored gentleman's legal, or rather illegal, prominence for some time, and we have an abiding faith in the belief that the leading thinkers of the South will agree with us when we affirm that the hog, the unregen#rated United States hog, is the cause. Placed on a prairie, without any surroundings what ever, the average colored gentleman might prove to be an honest citizen, but when he lives in a community where hogs abound, there js no chance for him but to conduct his business on the silent and under-current plan. From the re motest inception of slavery in America down to the last overflow, the negro and the hog have been linked in a rela tionship unknown to the Hottentot. The grunt of the hog to him has ever been a sound as familiar as the lament of the missionary is to the Fiji Islander. This is not the fault of the colored gentleman. In no respect can you load the blame on him. He was doing business in Africa, at an obscure stand, when the white man transported him to America and introduced him to the hog and assisted him in cultivat ing an appetite for the flesh of the animal despised by the lineal descend ants of Moses. Hie did not claim rela tionship with the hog until the white man, the pioneer of earthly mischief, induced a lasting acquaintance. The intimacy, carelessly begun, soon ripened into a passion. The colored gentleman insisted upon associating with the hog. Now it is impossible' to> effect a separa tion. The hog is willing, but his legs are weak. The law is willing, but the negro is not. He adheres to the cus tom of his fathers* His father said let us have hog, and immediately there was hog. No revision that the law may make can affect this ancient delaration. The law may say thou shalt not steal hog nor bear false witness against the sow, but the action of tradition says* "gimme de- Bhoat." No, sir, the colored gentleman cannot be an undoubted Christian so long as the hog inhabits the land. He may strug gle and pray a great deal, but when the light in the church is extinguished,, and the sisters with tearful eyes go home, the colored gentleman looks, around for a place where he can have undisturbed association with the swine. We don't mean to assert that all or even one-third of the colored gentlemen do this, but we mean that the old-time representa tive is the mam who will not forego the pleasure.--Arkansaio Traveler. U* Gs Speak Staglbh. , It is painful to be told you are h*vtng bouillon, dliuitre, Roti and cafe noir, when you know you are "only eating weak broth, stale oysters, tough roast beef, washed down with a miserly cup of coffee without any milk. It is un bearable to have your wife tell you that she has. bought a robe de soie and a Henri qnatre ohape&n, and find out she has ®nly a silk dress and a bonnet some what the shape of your great-grand mother's, for which you have to stand a heavy bill. "And the Cow Ate the Grindstone.w j Our neighbor, Mr. Harrison, has a Lalf which possesses a queer taste. In stead of the fresh young grass, he pre fers to nibble off bits of the grindstone. To save the grindstone it has been found necessary to move it out of the way of the calf; the calf has been thriv ing well on this strange diet, and with out a single dose of iron bitters to aid digestion.--Binesville (Go.) Gatette. SALT LAKE CITY restaurauteurs dis play in their windows oyster shells brought from Utah mountains, 10,000 feet above the sea level. EARTHQUAKINGS have been very shocking at Madrid. The faith of the faithful in churches has been so much, shaken that services are held in the open air. THE "fours of habit," said the gam bler, softly, as he dealt himself all the aces in the pack. Sonitmo men h»v» lately ducov- eredthat &e crab doea not crawlliack- ward. It is made that way. Ifti* going forward all the time. How RAPIDLY, says the Burlington Hawkeue, a man loses all interest in political anfi naMortal ftnanaas when he shuts the door on h ŝ ovn thumb. - "OUR yonng am ara coming to the front," cries a political journal. It does not look that way at the theater. Just as many bald heeds in the front rows as vret--Cincinnati Saturday Night A LEOPARD and a fox had a contest a* to whfch was the finest of the two. The leopard put forth his numberless spots; but the fox replied: "It is bet ter to have a versatile mind than a vari- gated body." THE peculiar characteristic of the Irish flea is that you put your finger on him aud he isn't there. The peculiar characteristic of the Russian Nihilist is that you put your finger on him and you are not there. ,. WHY should a man who is in a bad fix- be said to be "up a tree?" Lots of men who have stood in the midst of a ten-acre lot with a cross bull approach ing have heartily wished themselves in the branches of a lofty vegetable. A RELIGIOUS newspaper will go the rounds of a family circle and still look bright and clean; but when the family atory paper makes the circuit it looks as if it had served in the capacity of a bustle and had been given to the baby to out teeth on. THE ownly crown jewels that a conn- s try editor will ever wear will be the ; beads of perspiration which adorn his classic brow when he gets through wrestling with the hand-press after working off his whole edition.--DraIce'8 ' Traveler's Magazine. Miss AMELIA BLOOMER, the giddy young thing who invented pants for women, is now a white-haired old wo man, who blooms out in dresses with trains six feet long, and wouldn't wea# a pair of her Bloomer trousers few $30 a minute. Another reform gone wrong. --Burdelte. A SPORTSMAN had with him a boy to carry the game-bag. Having missed five patridges in succession, the gunner cried as he shot at the sixth bird; "There! I hit him! I saw the feathers fly! Didn't they ?" "Yes," replied the boy, dryly, "they flew--flew off with the bird!" LITTLE GERTIE went to church the other Sunday, when the preacher took the text: "Piling up wrath against the day of wrath." "What was the text, , Gertie?" asked her mother, when the little girl had returned. "I haven't forgotten it--no, indeed I" said Gertie, proudly. "It was 'Lay up something for a rainy day.'" A CUSTOMER takes back to a tailor a pair of trousers whioh are a perfect misfit. The knight of the shears is overwhelmed with grief and surprise. "Oh, never mind," says the customer, "you'll be able to work 'em off on some one else." "It is not the loss of the pantaloons that affects me," says the ' tailor haughtily; "it is an artist's sor row at his failure, of which you are the uncomprehending spectator!"--French Paper. "I SAY,* said an old bum on State street to one of his own genua, "there is likely to be a move made in the next session of Congress in our lavor." "How do you put it up?" asked the other. "Why, in tariff reform." "How'athat going to help you out?" MWhy, Sena tor Windom was in the city last week, and says he is in favor of free sugar, and if Congress will only meet him half way and make free whisky, why* don't that heel us for the winter?"-- Cheek~ . THEY had only been married a short time. She slung her arm around him and warbled ̂ in a low, tremulous voice: "Do you realize, Adolphus, that now we are married, we are only one?" "No,'* replied the brute, "1 eani realize it. £ have |ust paid a $75 millinery bill, andi a lot mere of your bills, with several outside precincts to hear from, so I am beginning to realize that, as far as ex pense goes>, instead of being one, we are- half a dozen. I can't take in that idea of our being one just yet, not by ft large majority."--Texas Sifti^s. I • ' ' --•••• • , |1 | f | • 4;i .v r. About Cfty Clubs. , if wwy remarkable development of clnb) life is taking place in all the large eities of the world.. In London there are over 100,000 registered members of clubs, and new ones are constantly be ing founded. They are also growing rapidly in New York city. In all our great centers of population there is a wealthy and half-idle class who patron ize dubs. These are not, perhaps, an unmixed evil. They promote good- fellowship, and cultivate a sense of gentlemanly honor, which adds to the morale of men in society. While they give facilities for forming drinking hab its, it is also true that they discourage excessive indulgence in spirituous drinks. A notorious drunkard cannot long retain his membership in a re spectable clubk But they tend, nn- donbtedly, to wean men from their families, and to train young men in habits which unfit them for domestic life. The clubs which have a public or political function are those which are the most prosperous. The Union League Club, of New York, for instance, re cently held its twentieth anniversary. It was formed to cultivate a patriotic feeling while the civil war was raging. It is a very prosperous institution, yet it allows no card-playing, or any game of chance. Another New York club, the Lotos, makes a specialty of enter taining distinguished foreigners. The leading London clubs are also political, and represent the Liberal, Conservative and Reform parties There are some clubs in New York which ought to be broken up by the police, as their chief function seems to be to afford facilities foar gambling.--Demorest's Monthly. Two Kinds of Facet. A barber said: "Everything depends upon the shape of the face and the stiff ness of the beard. Why, sir, you give me a young, ministerial looking chap with a long, smooth, lantern jaw and a receding chin, and I'll fix him out right away. A down stroke for each cheek, a few flourishes around the chin and mouth, a little bay rum, and you've got him. But when an old, wrinkled- faced coal heaver comes in 1 make up my mind for a long and hard job. It is like mowing in a rocky pasture that is full of cradle knolls; keep your razor as sharp as you can, youv'e got a hard task and one that makes you earn your money, all of it." i ,1'! (•'* - * A GEORGIA man broke his back with9 a sneeze. i •