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{ALL churs Bassist-no.1 HUlITED BY SEPOYS AN INCIDENT OF THE INDIAN MUTINY. i’lbli-hed hi‘ ipefiil arrangement with the publishers from advance sheets of Chrm‘urs's Joirrnrzj Many as were the " hairbreadth 'scapes" iro'n musacre during the. Indian Mutiny of HST-58, there are few which surpass the closeness of the shave i then had for my life. I had been a sergeant in the . Bengal HJI'BG . Axillary, than Which, I believe, a better; I corps never existed. I was then an overseer their simple gratitude for the littleâ€"indoor? nothing more than justice and some kind ness of manner and wordâ€"that I had din for them. “ You have been kind to us," they said ; " you have been our father and our mother [mai bapl; and we will do all we car. of Public “form at Joansi, in Csntral India. for you.‘ I rode like a contour; and if there was a} thing I loved, i: was ruling a horse that was i Such a one I luckily had ; a good jumper. And they did a great deaL For five days I lay hid in their huts ; for the native- soldiers or sepoys had scattered themselves than, or I should not be alive to tell this 3 over the country, pursuing the few Europ tale. Though the first outbreak of the Mutiny at Meerut came like a clap of thunder out of a clear sky, so utterly unexpected was it by the Europeans, yet, after the first explo- sion, all who had eyes to see perceived that other local outbreaks were only a matter of time and detail. So it was at Jhansi, which was gsrrisoned by a regiment of native in- fantry. All, except the infatuated officers of that regiment, knew that the soldiers were only awaiting news of some further success to their cause to j )in their brothers- in arms. The ofiisers persuaded themselves that their regiment at least was loyal, and lived in misplaced confidence. I was a oung bachelor, and therefore less anxious t an should have been if I had a family to look after and save. I could not, of course, go away, because my duty required my presence in Jnausi; and day by day, as rumours of more and more extensive defections reached our ears, I saw more clearly that when run- tiny broke out at Jhansi. ii: would be diffi cult indeed for the few Europeans to escape to any of those strongholds, few and far he- eans who had escaped the massacre at J nausi. Every one of them except myself fell into their hands during their savage hunt, and was ruthlessly murdered in cold bl )od. The hunters returned to Jhansi ; but many wore still about, patrolling the country-side, to pick up any straggling European wending his way from some scene of massacre towards the few stations where European life was still safe. The bricklayers first gave a smear here and there with clay to my horse and his saddle, trailed his bridle on the ground, and turning his face howsward, gave him a good cut of the whip. He went ofi‘ ; and I never saw him again. They left me alone in the but and went about their own afi’rirs, as if nothing unusual had occurred. Unleavened cakes (the well-known chapatties, or wheat- cakes) and milk was all that they could get for meâ€"their own food ; because to have sought for better fare would have excited suspicion. On the evening of the fifth day they told me I had better start, as the sepoys had returned from their hunt. They got some berries, and with their juice they rub- tween: Where the Presence 0‘ Europe“ 1 bed my face and body and hair, and changed “00135 ill“ EJTOPBWB 3 Chan“ 0f Present I my rather florid complexion into one of gen- scfety, a base for future strug ,les for sup rcmacy with the ominous natives. J‘nansi was surrounded with disaffectioufind far from help. It was a bright morning in June. After finishing a few eggs and toast, which with coffee makes the Indian chow. hatree (small breakfast.) I start- ed on horse back on my daily tour of inspecting the buildings under construction or repair. I had a hunting-whip in my hand, and a few rupees in my pocket. It was very early. I just barely noticed that my servants (in India. they are all men) were grouped together as I left the gate, instead of being at work ; and that unusual silence and quiet reigned in the bazaar or line of shops through which I passed. The bugies had sounded for morning parade before I started from home; and the native infantry regiment was already at its drill as I passed the parade ground. I soon met my super- ior officer. the executive engineer, received his orders for the day, and went about my work. Very few of the workmen had put in an appearance, and even these were not at work, but seemed evidently to be expecting some event. On my urging them to work, they grinned in silence, and then began handling their tools, but very listlessly. My duzy had taken me far away from the par- ade ground, and, luckin for myself, into quite the opposite part of the Station, as we call the garrison towns in India. I heard a roll of muskety firing; but that was no unusual sound in a military sta- tion. noraiarming to amiiitary man ; it didnot at all attract my attention. But that roll was followed up by a succession of solitary shots at irregular intervals; and, these I know, formed no possible part of the evolutions of a regiment at drill. My heart stood still for a moment. The long anticipated time had come : the men had mutinied, and were shooting their European ciiicers. Just then, a mounted CIIIJGI‘ rushed by me, urging his horse to racing speed ; and as he passed, he calla. on me to fi-o for my life. Away we went ; and he told me nearly every officer had been killed, some by the first valley, and others by the dropping fire. We gal- loperl on along the road, not rocking whitlr er. Suddenly. some soldiers appeared at a distance and pointed their muskets at us. to pass them was impossible. We turned sharp to one si lo, and put our horses to the low wall and fence that edged the road. My horse rose and cleared it in splendid style ; but the riiimr's heavier charger fell with him. I dismounted to help him ; but he lay stunned and unconscious. The bullets of the soldiers were falling around us. I could do him no good, and to linger was but to lose my own life too. I mount- ed again, and continued my flight, clearing every hedge, fence, and ditch on my way across country Many a shot was fired at me : but luckily neither I nor my horse was hit. In a is v minutes I was on: of sight of my pursuera, and safe for the moment. I checked my horse, to gain him time ts breathe, and myself to think what lshould do. I found that I was near the road that led to Gwalior, and not for from some brick fields which were under my supervision. Of course I knew the men engaged there. I; vvas a question whether they would or would not turn against me. liu‘ I trusted to my popu. larity with them for one thing ; and for an- other, to the swiitness of my horse. It was indeed necessary for me to seek some shelter for the day : for a summer sun in India very rapidly becomes too hot for European com for: or safety. My only chance was to con- tinue my flight 'at night ; I therefore rode in» to the brickfields. I found but five men at work ; they in! all heard the firing, had guessed what it meant, and the others had no to hcar and see what had resulted. y men “pressed their joy to see me no- hurt ; and urged me to take refuge with them for a wniio and to continue my flight afterwards. I dismounted, to‘eroforc, and was taken into one of their huts. Then we all sat down and discussnd the situation. “No one," they said, “will come to look for Europeans incur huzs, for we are too poor and miserable to be thought of, or suspected of harbouring you. But your horse will betray us if he is seen about here, they will of course. search the huts.” "it tides," said another, " you cannot expect to escnpe on hombaek, for, under exiszing circumstances, that would be too conspicuous a mode of travelling, especially with E iglish saddle and bridle." “Your only chance, sir," said a third,“is to travel by night and on foot, in order to get to Gwalior unobserved." I tell them I was entirely intheir hands, and thatl trusted to their goodness for my chance of escape. Even with the sense :rhe imminent danger in which I was plac- I the uses, and lay down at full long i I had sine to observe with satisfaction nine dusky Indian hue. A suit of rough workman’s clothesâ€"trousers and short shirt â€"wore put on me ; a turban was tied on my head ; a chuddur (sheet or mantle) of cotton was thrown over my shoulders ; and my stockings and boots were replaced by a pair of old native shoes. They refused my offer of the few rupees I had about me ; but tying them in a rag, they tucked them into my waistband. After dusk, they conducted me a couple of miles on the G -vs.lior road and bade me farewell. I have often heard Europeans say that there is no word in the Indian language for “gratitude.” I do not know. Those poor bricklayers at auyrate showed me that the thing itself is not altogether absent from Indian hearts. How can I express the sense of utter loneli- ness which I felt when they had left me l About seventy miles of a good straight road lay between me and the friendly haven (f Sindhia's camp at Gwalior, for which 1 was bound. But I knew that not a friendly soul lived between. I could trust no one on the way. I must avoid all contact with the natives, lie bid by day and travel by night, sock food and water by stealth, and carry my life in my handâ€"the sole European wandering over miles of hostile ground. Under ordinary circumstances. 1 could easily have done the journey in four days, But unaccustomed to the peculiar Hindus- tani shoes which I now wore, I could not do my best. What creatures of habit we are, to be sure i I found that my progress was not rapid, and blisters very soon began to burn on my feet for want of stockings. I had not done ten miles, when. the dawn ap- peared, and I began to lock out for a hiding- piace. I went off the road and climbed into a large widespread tree. and was well hidden in its leafy branches. From this lofty perch I scanned the country round; and, to my great delight, I saw a small pool of water not far off. I was feeling very thirsty ; but still I was obliged to wait patiently in my friend- ly tree for many along hour, because, with the dawn, travellers came up who had begun their journey early, taking advantage of the cool of the morning to reach their first halt- ing place, for their mid-day meal. before the sun became too hot. It was nearly noon, when seeing the read quite clear of enemiesâ€"ior such to me were all who passed â€"I slipped from my tree and hastened to the peel. Under other circum- stances, I would not have touched such water with my fingers; for it was a pond frequented by cattle, and conse. queutiy none of the purest or cleanest. But now! I was agsnising with thirst; and it was a pleasure not easily understood by those who have never undergone such an ordeal to find the all necessary water near at hand, no matter in what state. The forethought of my friendly bricklayers had provided me with several wheatcakes, enough to satisfy the wants of nature for a few days. At the edge of that pool, under the blsz‘ng sun, I ate a few of my cakes, and drank of the filthy w tier, which yet seemed nectar to my parch- ed mouth. Tueu I hastened back to my tree. L\t0 in the evening, when the short tropical twilight had been extin isbed in the darkness of night, Idescende , and went forWard again on my solitary way. My feet were all the worse for m first day's jiurney, and I had had no seep in that time. My progress was proportionately slower. The dawn saw me hardly eight miles from my starting place. A ruined edifice some distance off the read was my shelter on this day; and in the area on- closed by its dilapidated garden wall I found a well, and luckily an old bucket and halfreiten rope lay near it. Again I ate of my cakes, and I drank of the well water, and was able to have a goof sound sleep in the friendly shelter of the ruin. Tired in body and wearied in mind, I slept long in- deed, and night had already fallen when I awoke. After more food and drink, I start ed again, much refreshed with my rest. I travelled again all night ; and in spite of my sore feet, I forced myself on, and made and progress. But the next morning foun me in a sad ioamsnk I could see no cover or shelter of any kind, ex of tall trees in the far nos ahead. nude for it, but with a heavy heart, for I knew that it indicated the roadside well where travellers rest for their midday meal. Such I found it to be. Still I could do nothing else; there was no other place to rest in. Perhaps also my suc- cess so for bad emboldened me to a little neg g I went up to the well had another feed on the last of my wheat-cakes, and I. hearty drink from the well. I then retired to the furthest of th on the ground, covering myself all over with my t a small clum i"chuddnr". This was rehearsing what I , intended to do when travellers came up, for '; thus the natives are accustomed to take their ishort mid-day rest. At first the coast was 5 clear, and I could lie at ease, with my head ' ncovered : l dared not trust myself to sleep. Very soon, however, travellers began to pass along the road, and many looked curiously at the lazy man who had either overslept himself till too late in the morning, or was beginning to sleep too long before noon. They were, however, too intent on their own journey to mind me much, and they went on ; it was not from them I expected trouble. The crucial time came as noon approached. The blazing sun shone in full glory and heat. I‘rsvellers began to drop in at the well. I covered myselfâ€"head and allâ€"with my mantle,pretending to be asleep. but carefully noticing every arrival. Among them, to my horror, I saw two sepoys armed with swords. They in due course began their meal, chat- ting freely ; and I lay quite still, hoping that, after food and rest, they would procee on their way, leaving me once more at liberty to resume my journey. Unluckiiy, the sun had begun to best upon me ; yet I dared not move. The mere fact of my lying thus still and immovable made them suspect I was a corpse. “Perhaps he has been poisoned," said one. â€"â€"“Or died of a snakebite during the night ; those cobras are so deadly,” said another.â€" “He may have money on him.” suggested a thirdâ€"“He evidently does not not hear us,” said a fourth ; “let us go and see how matters stand." Slowly two of them approached me, shook my shoulder, and at length gently raised the chudder from my face. At the first glance, they sprang back, shouting the word “Faranghi 1" (European). I jumped to my feet ; and in a moment I was surrounded by the entire group, including the two sepoys, with their swords now drawn. At first I felt quite dazed, for I could not comprehend what had so suddenly betrayed me. But on their pointing to my face, and one of them producing a small pocket mirror (such as native dandies often carry about), 1 locked in the glass and saw a strange sight. Wh ile my blue eyes showed that I could not be a native, I had also, while drinking, washed off the berry juice from my lips and part of my face, die- closing portions of a white skin, which con- victed me of beings European indeed. It was useless to struggle or resist ; the band was too numerous, and two had swords. They seized me at once, and dragged me nearer the well, and my hands were tied behind my back with the bucket rope. Some were for killing me at once. But the two sepoys, greatly extolling their own prowess in having made me a prisoner, said that I belonged to them, and that they would take me on to J oansi, where a reward was offered for every European brought in. As they were armed, no one disputed their argument and I was left to them. . After a while, I was told by them to walk on between them. I did so, for re- sistance under the circumstances would have been madness ; nor was 1 without hope that some unfurseen chance might yet en- able me to escape. They were now, after all, only two to one, because, to avoid shar- ing their expected reward, they would not allow the others to travel with them. After having walked several miles back towards J hansi without offering any re sistance or making any remark, I saw with delight that they became less suspicious and observant of mo and my doings. I gradually and cautiously tried the rope that bound my wrists. Luckily it had not been knotted with the skill of a Jack-tar ; and I found after a little working that I could easily free my hands. I was far too cautious to do so at once. However I was determined to wait for a favourable chance. That chance came much sooner than I expected. The day was very hot ; and it was not long before we were all very thirsty. A little after four in the afternoon, as we walked along, one of them said: “ I see a well, a little off the road ; let us go and drink." “ We had better hurry on to Jhansi," said the other. “ It will not take long," said the first ; “ and we must take care that our prisoner does not die of thirst or of sun stroke, to which these cursed Europeans are so snbj-ct ; otherwise good-bye to our reWard." “Very well,” said the other. “ I have heard it said that brandy causes sun-stroke, and drinking water keeps it off." “He has accompanied us very tamaiy," said one. “ He must be a coward,” said the other ; “ they all are, except when they are to- gather." I listened, but said nothinu, and we went to the well, some distance 03 the road. One of them ungirded his sword and put it down on the ound while he draw water from the well. car it sat the other scpoy, his sword at his belt, waiting for his drink, while I stood near him, with my hands behind my back. Now or never, I said to myself. I quietly slipped my right hand from the loop that held it. To seize the sword on the ground and draw it was the work of an in- stant ; the next, the sitting soldier fell a corpse to the ground, with his head almost severed from the neck with one blow of the sharply ground sword. At the noise of the attack, the soldier who Was drawing water turned round, and for a moment was petrified at seeing his late prisoner free, brandishing a naked sword, and shy lug his comrade. Recovering himself, be rushed at me with a shout ; but him also I slow with his own sword. I was once more free, and what is more, I was now armed. From my dead enemies I took their Ch spatties. In India, travellers generally carry some food with them, to meet the not unfreq'rent eve: of finding scanty supplies. Nat a soul was in sight. I ate and drank, and thanked Gid for my de' iiverance. Then I stared once more in the Gwalior direction, but I kept clear of the read. I led the life ofa nocturnal animal, resting during the day, and hiding as I best might, but during the night pushing forward at my best speed towards Gwalior. When the soldiers’flhapaliicl were done, I satisfied the cravings of hunger by eating man- goes from the trees or the melons in the fields. Nor did I disdain the raw cobs of Indian corn, or in fact anything edible I could find. Never could I have believed in my old soldier days, when we used to grum- ble at our beer and beef and bread as suppli~ ed by the ccmmisssriat, that I could ever have managed to get down my throat what I ate with such relish during those four days. We never know what we can do till we try. . 0n the eighth day after leaving J handâ€" the Zfourth aftsr slaying the soldiersâ€"I reached Gwaliorfiwearied, fagged, foctsore, and almost tired of life. Another couple of days of such misery, and I should either have lain down to die, or have recklessly: thrust myself into the midst of my enemies. But the distant sight of the great rock fort- ress oi Gwalior revived my spirits. I was soon conducted to a house, and tended and cared for, by order of Maharej xh Sindhis. 0:, the luxury of a bath. after all that time and travel and sufiotingl A few days of rest and good food had almost set me up again, when I was once more started on my flight. The Maharaj ah continuing loyal to to the government, incurred the animosity of his own people ; and after a time of south- ing discontent and ill-suppressed murmurs, his troops broke out into open mutiny against him, crying to be led to join their brothers in arms. Attended by only a handful of faithful servants, Sindhia was obliged to has to Agra for his life. Gwalior was of course now become too hot for any European ; and I followed Sindhia's ex ample. Again I started on my wandering; but this time I had fewer adventures, for the dis- tance was shorter. On the second day. I swam across the river Chumball, at the im mineut risk of being seized and devoured by one of the numerous alligators that swarm in its waters. But on the other hand there was the certainty of being seiz ad and slain if ‘I sought the ferry : bridge there then was none. I passed Dholpore ; and soon found comparative safety under the influence of the vicinity of the Euro can forces at Agra There, in due course, arrived, safe indeed as to life and limb, but I was not a very pre ssntable object. My feet were blistered, swollen, and torn; my clothes were fithy and ragged ; my skin was tanned and raw with the heat of the sun ; and my eyes were infi rmed and nearly blind from the continual glare andfiue dust of the road. In all, I had done about one hundred and thirty miles, I say barefoot, for the native shoes I had got from my bricklayers proved almost worse than useless to me. As I came near to Agra, late in the after noon,'a lady driving in her carriage saw me. and very kindly took me up and conveyed me to the fort, still a good distance off. The neighbouring Europeans had found shelter and safety in Akbar's old fortress, which was garrisoned by a large European force. I was taken to the Commandant, who heard my statement of what had occurred at J han- si ; and I was then attached to the battery of artillery in garrison. But I did little duty. An attack of brain fever soon follow- ed ; and during it I was nursed with the ut most care and tenderness by the wife and daughter of our sergeant-maj or. Before a year was out, I married that girl. When India had been reoonquercd and peace res-. bored, I was sent back to the Public Works Department. I have risen ; and I now hear the commission of a lieutenant in Her Ma- jesty's service. As I owe this rise to the steady habits insisted on by my wife, and as I could not have got her, in all human pro~ bability, but for the mutiny at J hansi, I don’t grudge the sufferings, great as they then seemed, which I endured in my Es- cape. S U SPENDED ANIMATION- The Remarkable Resuscitation of a Clergy- man. The death of Mind-reader Bishop, says a Freehold (N. J.) letter, recalls one of the most remarkable cases of suspended ani- mationâ€"that of the Rev. William Tenneut, gof the first Presbyterian church of Free- 0 . Mr Tennent came from Ireland and was educated at the Log college in Buck county, Pennsylvania. While at New Brunswick, about the year 173’), he became ill from in- tense application to his studies for the min ltry, and one morning when in conversation with his brother he fainted dead away and apparently breathed his last. in the evening a friend of his, a young physician who had been attending him, ar- rived from the country and found him laid out fo. burial and the neighbirhood invit ed to attend the funeral the next day. The physician dipped his own hand in warm wet. or in order to make it more sensitive, and feel- ing under the arm of the apparently dead man he declared that he felt an unusual warmth. He had the bidy restored to a warm bad and the funeral postponed, al- though the brother declared it absurd, as the eyes had fallen in, the lips discolored, and the whole body was cold and stiff. All means to ascertain whether the body was alive were used -:i:hout success, and hope was abandom 1', except by the young doctor, who still adhered to his belief. al- though decnmpostion had set in; in the fort. On the fourth day the people were again invited to attend the funeral, the doctor still obj ictlng, and at last confining his request for delay to one hour, then to half an hour, and finally to a quarter of an hour. He had discovered that the tongue was much swol- en and threatened to crack. He was endeavor- ing to soften it by some emollient when the brother came in and, mistaking what the doctor was doing for an atte opt to feed him as d in a spirited tons : “It is shameful to be feeding a on so.” At this peri the body opened its eyes, gave a groan, and sank again into apparent death. In about two hours life returned with in- creased power and a complete revival took place. It was about twelve months before Mr. Tennent was comp‘etely restored, and for a much longer period he could not re- member events that had transpired before his trance. He died on March 8. 1777. and was buried in the church near Freehold, known as the old Tennent church. Killed With a Slate Pencil- The burial of little James Tliton at Mount Carmel, Ill. , the other day,wasthsssd termin- ation of a schoolboya' quarrel that occurred a few days since at the Eighth street building. The little Tllton boy and a colored be who attended the same schoolbecame invo ved in a quarrel, and were ordered into the house. As they were entering the building the white boy struck his companion a severe blow. and the colored boy retaliated by strikirg back with a long and sharp slate pencil which he chanced to hold in his hand. The point of the pencil struck the victim just above the eye and penetrated the skull to a depth of two inches armors. The injured boy was taken home, and showed no of of suffer- ing for some time, but paralys set in. and he died after several days' sickness. Neither of the parties to the tngedy was over 10 years of age. We paint ourselves in fresco. The soft aid fusil plaster of the monument burdens under every stroke of the brush into eternal rockâ€"[0. H. Cudiheo. SWEET PB AGE IN LIFE. l How Much Happiness Can Be node by an. clone Manners. Beauty hath its charms, but the charms of gracious manners far outweigh them. The manners that express a kindly, sympa- thetic heart, open to the influence of ur- other personality as the flower to the sun, sad as unconsciously giving back its own fragrance, are a gift that far outshines phys. ical graces. Who of us have not forgottena plain face, or seen it grow beautiful under the witchery of beautiful manners, the expression of a well poised mind! Learning can be ac- quired politeness may be cultivated, but manner rs the expression of the nature, and brings the object to its own level, at least for the moment. We go out from the presence of gentle manners at peace with the world. S use of us carry the ideal of perfect grace with us, aspiring but never reaching, say- ing with Petraroh, “I have once beheld on earth angelic manners and celestial charms, whose very remembrance is a delight and an infliction, since it makes all things also appear but dream and sha- dow." Tennyson says, ,‘Kind nature is host," for he knew that cfisnse could never on are where the heart felt the brotherhood of man. What is rudeness but a disregard of another's rights? What is discourtesy but a disregard of another’s feelings I Who that loves his neighbor as himself over gives of- fonts 2 We think of culture as the highest form cfithe intellectual, but it is perfect only as the heart has kept pace with the head, and sees in its own development a new res- ponsibility, a new debt to the world. Man- ners are nature ; p >liteness, veneering ; and he is a dullard who is not able to distin- guish. Let no loss the phrase, Learn to be polite, and say, rather, “Cultivate the heart and head that the stature of a perfect man may be reached.” True manner sees the limit- ations of another’s temperament and oppor- tunity and leaves them untrammeled, know~ ing every man has his own code of morals and politeness which onlyiindividual develo - ment can change, feeling with Goethe : “ e arrive best at true toleration when we let pass individual peculiarities, whether of persons or peoples, without quarreliug with them; holding fast, nevertheless, to the conviction that genuine excellence is distin- guished by this mark, that it belongs to all mankind." Could we only hold fast to the thought of the divine, in every man; Could we only see that in acknowledging his right to his own nature, scarred or po- lished, that in every act of concession not involving principle it is “Jove noddiu to .lIove," how much social friction woul be out i Wheat and Whenoa it Game. Wheat, which'is now the bread corn of twelve European nations, and is fast sup- planting maize in America and several in- ferior grains in India, was no doubt widely grown in the prehistoric world. The Chinese cultivated it 2700 B. C. as a gift direct from heaven; the Egyptians attributed its origin to Isis and the Greeks to Ceres. A classic account of theldistribution of wheat over the primeval world shows that Ueres, hav- ing taught her favorite Triptolemus agri- culture and the art of breadmaking, gave him her chariot, a celestial vehicle which he used in useful travels for the purpose of distributing corn to all nations. Ancient monuments show that the cultivation of wheat had been es- tablished in Egypt before the invasion of thcshepherds, and there is evidence that more productive varieties of wheat have taken the place of one, at least, of the an- cient sorts. Innumorahle varieties exist of common wheat. Col. L3 Contour, of Jersey, cultivated 150 varieties. Mr. Darwin men- tions 0. French gentleman who had collected 3'22 varieties, and the great firm of French seed merchants, VilmorinAndricux ct Cie., cultivate about twice as many in their trial grounds near Paris. In their recent work on “Les Melileurs flies” M. Henry L. do Vilmorln has described sixty-eight varieties of best wheat, which he has classed into seven groups, through those groups can hardly be called distinct species, since M. Henry L. do Vilmorin has crossbred three of them. Triticum vulgare, Triticum turgidum, and Triti'cum durum, and has found the off- spring fertile. Three small-grained varieties of common wheat were cultivated by the first lake dwellers of Switzerland ('ime of Trojan war) and as well as by the less an- cient lake dwellers of Western Switzerland and Italy, by the people of Hungary in the stone age, and by the Egyptians on the evidence of a brick of a pyramid in which agrain was imbodded, and to which the date of 3 359 B. C. has been assigned. The existence of names for wheat in the most ancient languages confirms this evidence of the antiquity of its culture in all the more temperate parts of Europe, Asia and Africa, but it seems improbable that wheat has ever been found growing persistently in a wild state, although the fact has often been as. sorted by poets, travelers, and historians. In the Oiyssey, for example, we are told that wheat grew in Sicily with the aid of man, butahiind poet could not have seen this himself, and a botanical fact can hardly he sees ted from a writer whose own existence has con contested. Diodorus repeats the tradition that Osiris found wheat and barley growing romiscuously in Palestine, but neither iiile nor other discoveries of persist- ent wild wheat seem to us to be credible, seeing that wheat does not appear to be endowed with a power of persistency except under culture. _â€"â€"â€"+â€"â€"â€": A Montana Aristocrat. "New, Jedgs, what am I going to do 'bout my alimony 2" asked a Dikoto wo- man who :was suing her husband for s. divorce. "What roperty has your husband 2" ask- ed theju go. “Prop'ty, Jedge '.' Why, he's the best 03' man in the county. He's got fourteen splendid :dawgs, three fiddles, :two game roosters. six shot guns, four breast-pin: all washed ingold, two lrlfies, 'a pet coon, a tame fox and six good brass rings. If I couldn,t get alimony off'n a man that rich there ain't no justice in this country i"â€" Drake’s Magazine. Too Sweet. - Waggsâ€"“I wish you wouldn’t make snob affectionate pies, Mrs. Skimplee.” Lsndladyâ€"“Afi'ectionate pics i Pray what kind's that 3" “Why, this berry pic's so thin that the crust: are actually stuck on each other." :1 3. i 5.