The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

0‘ _ 'YOUNG ' % JACKisâ€"‘s-Tonpw ._., x «n Outside the wind was howling as though all the bad and indifferent spirits had been let loose, and were holding a carnival in mid-air. The shutters rattled; the min heat madly against. the window panes; the trees creaked and moaned, and their long, bare branches came straggling against the house with a creeping, grating sound that wasnn~ canny. 04-" ' But inside all was light and warmth. A bright fire glowin in the grate sent rays of li flu and waves 0 warmth into the corners othhe room; the curtains were drawn, and everything looked bright and homelike here, in spite of “ wind and weather. In front of the fire, on low ottomans, rid nestling on the hearth rug, were four grave little folks, silently gazing into the fire. As silence was not their strong point, there was something remarkable in it. “ Why, what is the matter with my pets that they’re so quiet? Holding a Quaker meeting ‘.'” _ “ O papalpapa! Have you come? \V’lien did you come? I‘m so glad; so glad ; so glad.” Such a chorus of screeches and screams; such an avalanche of kisses and hugs as be- fell me. I was soon comfortably ensconced by the fire, and then said : . “ Well. why was the room so quiet when l," I entered. “ O, )apa, Bess said she was afraid, and believe there were ghosts aroundâ€"there were such singular noises outside. I didn’t believe her though, and told~ her she was a goose. Don’t you think so too 2‘” replied Jack. “ But what made you so quiet ’5” “ O we were just kind 0’ thinking it over, you know.” “ So my little Bessie thinks there are ghosts about does she ? \Vhat put that into her head 2” .., “ O, papa it is such a dreadful night; and this afternoon Jack read such a dreadful storyâ€"J’ “Alia! \Iaster Jack again! And he is the young man who has been calling his sistera goose because she was nervous. I told you not to read such stories to your sisters.” “ It wasn’t so very bad, and I didn’t suppose she would be so silly as to get frightened over it. She didp’t say a word until night. But I’m sorry, and I’ll promise not to do so again. And now, papa, please tell us a story, won’t you? It will make Bess forget what a‘ night it. is.” “O papa, please do l” chimed in all the rest. “ I don’t believe Jack meant to be naughty ; don’t scold him any more,” came softly from the region of my shoulder. “And we do want a story.” “ llut I’ve told you every story I ever read, heard, di'caiued'or manufactured, over and over again.” ' ~ . ” U, pupa, you surely havn't,” piped up Jack. “ Tell us a real true story about when you were a boy. Tell us about the‘ wolves. I’ve heard you saytherc were wolves around here when you were small.” " 0 papa, please not that kind of a. story tonight ;” and a, curly head nestled closer down on my shoulder. ” It sounds as if there is a whole pack of wolves around the house now.” , “ ,l’ooh ! llcss is afriid again. I tell you I’m glad I ain‘t a girl. Nothing will hurt you [less : go on with a. wolf story, papa ;” said the ‘rrcpresaibic Jack, as he described sevch Si)1!lt'lr;111ll$ on the hearth rug. “ What a little heathen you are Jack ! “’hat other unpleasuiitthing besides ghosts and wolves will you think bf ‘.’ How unbe- coming it- is for you to tumble about in such a style in the piesence of your sisters ! And Iiihfinl‘) dcar, if I tell the boys of the wolves (although Jack doesn’t deserve anything) the story will not he very terrible. \\'olves are not as terrible as many sup- pose. In fact, a. single wolf rarely attacks humankind, and a. little child would not be in great danger from a lone wolf. It, is only in the winter when they are in packs and nearly starved that: they attack human beings. A single wolf, when not hungry, is u very cowardly, sneaking sort of an unini- al." “\Ycll, I don’t mind hearing of them if they never ate any one,” said Bessie, rais- ing her head. “They most. certainly did not eat any one -â€"or atletst not to my knowledge in this part of the country, although they ate a number of 51 cup. “The farmers used to build high slanting fences around the stock yards, within which they kept the sheep nights. along with the cattle. Then when Mr. Wolf got into the cn~ L‘l‘)$111‘t‘,\\'l1l0l1 he sometimes did, he could not 'l t» back over the high fcncc sloping inward. .l'luii the cattle, thinking him a stray dog, would kill him, or at. least keep him from hinting the sheep. “One morning my father came in and re- ortcd that a nice large shec was dead out iy the lariiâ€"â€" killed by u wdlf. Father set. traps for that wol f, but never caught him. \thii your grandfather first came to this country (on April lst, 1701) this pretty valley was nearly covered with woods, the only clear spots being ludiun corn patches here and there. Then the woods were full of animals. Bears and wolves were abun- dant, and deer roamed fearlessly about. As 1 was the youngest of a large family, the Country was partially cleared in my earlier recollection, and most of the. wild animals were gone: but I have heard my father tell a great many stories ofhis adven- tnrcs. The iinpctuous Jack here burst in : “I wish I had lived their 1 I would have just slaycd the wolves and bears illlll dcers. That would have been just glorious. What ,1! ‘ fun boys must have had then ” Yes, they used to have some fun then, as all boys do: but thev had to work much harder then than you do now, and did not have so many privileges.” “ llut didn’t you ever see any bears or wolves yourself, papa '2" Jack asked in a disappointed lone. “ I thought you were going to tell us about what you had seen." “ Yes, I've seen a great many wolvesâ€"â€"-" " There Itliat sounds rather more likeit,” murmured Jack. ' “ And their skins had scalloped red flan- ncl borders." “What 1" and a early head popped up suddenly from the shoulder it was keeping stmi'ht. " What funny wolves they must have ten. Was you a little boy when you .w them '3" ’ ‘ “Come now, 1mm," expostulatcd Jack, _._J.. them. ..____.'.- agitation the" ,an're just aftea‘ain' a fellow: It isn’t a Story at all; and I Shall go upstairs and read. Ghost stories are av great"‘deal more interesting"'than this: Besides, you never saw any such wolvts ; yousaw only theinskins.” .. . I w “\Vcll, if it'willdo you any good, I c920 tell you that I have seen a wolfâ€"a real live four-legged wolf â€" outside a menagerie. Oneran across my road when lavas a little chap going toachoel. .\V'c buds long way to go to school, and part of the way was through the woods. One morning as we were racing along, justns .wereached this piece of woods, 3. big fellow bounced out of one side, and disappeared int-he thicket on the other side.” “Really, papa l \l'hat did you do?” “Do '.' Nothing, but run along to school as fast as we could.” “Well, that was a pretty thing to do 2 I just wish I'd been there." “What would you have done Jack '1” “I should have followed right after him, if I had been in your place.” “IfI should have done so, I would prob- ably be following him yet; for he run so fast. I never c_ould have caught. up; and then you wouldn’t have had. any father or story either." ~ ‘ “I’ve got the father, but I don’t know about the story. Didn’t they have any bears when you were small? . ’ “ No, the wild bears were all gone then. But there were plenty of deer; and what pretty creatures they-were 2' They used to come in our fields and eat the wheat, of which they were very fund; and they used to drink at the river not far from our house. “'0 used tokill them to eatâ€"veni- son is very nice meat. .‘I was quite a lad whenI killed my first deer, and how proud I was of it, too. An old lady who visited us, sometimes, had a tame deer that fol- lowed ‘h‘er about‘likc a dog. ' She was very fond of her pet, and had a. bell fastened to its neck, so tliat_no one would kill it by mistake. She ‘an it When it was a. little fawn and raised iii herself; "so wheiislie came to our house the deer a1 1in followed her, staying in the yard until she was ready to go home. Occasionally it would come up and peep in at the windows, to see if she was there yet; and then after finding that she was really there, the deer would lie down, awaiting the appearance of her mistress, as quiet as a kitten. “It seems strange-how you can domesti- cate wild animals, simply by being kind to Even the fiercest of dumb brutcs be: come manageable and fond of you, if you are only kind to them. “Another of our neighbors .had a lame bear, which was captured when a mere cub. That hear was a. most friendly fellow. One morning an uncle of yours was chopping, when something came up from behind, and catching him in its huge arms, gave him a vigorous hugging. “He naturally thought; it was a. wild betl'r, and nearly tore his clothes off in a struggle to get- away. \\'hen he got loose and seized his ax to strike the hear, he saw a strap around its neck, and knew it y'us a. tame bear, that; had broken its chain and left for the woods. Your uncle went home and sent word to the owner of the bear, who came and-took him home. “I remember seeing that bear come down the road one morning following his master like a little dog. That; was when he was a onlyâ€"before he ga vo your uncle that hearty embrace. And when he got opposite. our house, our big dog rushed out and frightened him so that he climbed a tree: and ’I had. to take the dogr to (he'liousc before his master could coax him down. And when he came down, he went cowing‘along the rail fence until he was quite a distance from the house, before he ventured upon the ground. “Bears are very fond of milk, and this one was no exception to the rule. One day an old woman passed him with a pale of milk : Mr. Bruin walked up with her on his hind legs grasped the pail in his fore-paws, took it away from her, and drank up the milk. “It is queer how a. bear wal ks on his hind feet, and carries burdens in his arms.” “Arms, pupa?" ‘ “ \Vell, you little puss, in his fore-paws. then. I have heard your grandfather tell about- a huge bear that came. into his fath- er’s yard and carried off a full grown pig; valkcd ofi‘ with it in his armsâ€"beg pardon, his forc-pawsâ€"as if it had been a. baby. Right in the ( :ty time, too, IIow the pum- pig did squeal and cry ; but as my grand- inotlicrâ€"ymir great-grandmother vas tlierculonc, she had to let. him go. Prob~ ab if your gramlfatlici' had been there, Mr. llruin ,would not have gotten off so easily with his booty. “ Your graiulfather was out hunting one day, when he met a very large bear. Ile fired and broke one of its shoulders. He had no more bullets and he knew not what to do. \Y‘mt would you have done in his place, Jack ‘.'" ‘ ’ “ I don't know papa. : what did he do 'r” “ He tried to flash powder in his eyes and blind him, so that he could get near enough to kill him with a club. llut the hear was so furious with the pain. that your grand- father had to get out of his way. The next day he and another man with a pack of dogs went after the bear. They found him under the roots of an old tree and killed him. “ You knmv bears \vcre valuable. The meat was good to eat and the skin and oil were both useful. “ Now I think we have had quite bears Emiu’gh ; and you little folks must all go to c( . Pam Getting in His Work. “lithelinda, darling," murmured the en- raptured young man. “this is the happiest moment of my life. I came here this even- ing hoping ye: fearing, Icould not put it off any longer. I felt that I must know my fate. The suspense was killing me. but likes to go over a new route unattended, but ter he has traversed it once he knows every l the 4th inst. .â€"-â€"_â€". The Blind Inn‘s method affirming His Way on the street. F. “ How does‘o“ blind m finds his": way 2" ' repeateda sightless instructor of the blind- to a questioner. “A blind man finds his way just as you would in total darkneN, for you must remember that he is always in the dark: It is as easy for‘him- to get lost in this room as in a forest. He comes in, gets turned around and looses his reckoning. He stops and listens. The twitter of a bird through the open window comes to his car and in a flash he is right. again. ‘Therc,’ he says, ‘is the window, the door is over here,’ and he walks straight to it. Blind people are as timid about venturing into a strange place as you would be about going into an unfamiliar cellar in the dark, but after they have been over the round once or twice they step with confit once, only exercising ordinary care lest some unusual obstacle should have been placed in the way since they last passed. You see blind inen making their way to and fro in the streets of every large city. . ,~ . . “I live in a. place of some thousands of population, and eve ' morning walk a. mile to my school and hue ' again in the evening. I knowevery step ofthe way, and have my landmarks, which, to-ine,indicate the stages of my journey. in is thirty steps from my gate '.‘to' the nearest crossing and gutter. s:ep over this, then fiftecen, stepping stones take his to the next'gutt‘er on the other side of the street. Then there is a plank walk, three planks wide, for 311 steps. The walk is about two feet higher than the street,‘aiid people often wonder at seeing me step along it so briskly; but, bless you ! I am in no danger. I keep on the middle plank, and can tell, by the sound about; where I am. I know when I pass a large house which stands some~ feet backfrom the walk, and when I get to a tree which shades the street I know-“I an) half way. Then two steps take me down from the walk to the street level, and ten stc ping-stones keep my feet out'of the mud. ' hen there is a brick walk for twenty-seven steps, and three steps from the end there is a place where the bricks have sunk. Then comes a pavement of flat-stones, and seven steps froui its beginning one flag has shifted its place and stands with one end two or three inches out of the ground. I found this out by stumbling over it. Now I know when I come to it and always raise my foot and step over it. A little further on there is another I plank walk, also three boards wide, and when I set my foot on a springy board I know I, am halfway over this part. of the journey. I used to count the steps, but now I know them by heart. and my feet do the counting, so that I step from the plank walk to the stepping-stones and over the cutters without. thinking, and have gone from my house to the school without, so far as I re- member, giving a thought to my steps." “So every blind man who goes to and fro, in the city or country, can ,tell- exactly ho w far it is, in his steps, from one point. in his route to another, and what are his landmarks by the way. He will also be able by his sense of lieiiriug to give you many particuâ€" lars of the Surrmindings tliatrw uld surprise you. A stone house gives a. ( ifl‘crent echo from brick and tlielattcr from wood ; he can always tell when he is under or near trees, and will name the kind. of street pavement) from the attic of the vehicles. In his walks he ,ineasures the distance by steps :, when riding in a carriage, street-cur, or railroad, by time. There are watches specially pre- pared for. thcblind. The gl: are tulnn out, and little points mark the hours. By touchingr the face. carefully here and there he will find the time and estimate the dis- tance accordingly. Of cgurse, no blind man point of iinportanceito him, and could walk over it, as you would say, ‘in the dark.’ ” __â€"â€"â€".<>__â€"â€"â€"â€"â€". A' Strange Soene’in an English Court. It is a rare thing, remarks a contemporary, to see in an English Court; what was seen at the Old Bailey on Tuesday, an instance of sympathy with a criminal overpowering the sense of his crime. The prisoner liadattcmpt- ed to: murder his sweetheart and to make away with himself, but; when judge, ju 'y, sheriffs, and aldernien had heard the details of the story, their admiration and compas- sion rather than their abhorreiice were arous- ed. The in '5; recommended the prisoner to mercy. the judge let him off with a nominal sentence, the prison chaplain expressed a desire to inurrythe prisoner and his victim, and judge, jury, sheriffs, and aldermcu all joined in raising a fund to start the couple on their matrimonial voyage. The prisoner de- livered a sort ofthanksgiving from the dock, and after it trying display of emotion the parties left. the court to arrange for the wed- ding. all really going “merry as a. marriage bell." In this case it would seem that all parties regarded the prisoiim"s crime as a momentary iii-.idncss. the result of despair, atoned for in advance by the remarkable devotion of the young man to his sweetheart. The girl and her brother were in \ 'ant, and the prisoner, though only earning one pound a week. half of which he allowed his mother, took siste ‘and brother out of the workhousc and insisted on their sharing his trifling iii- coine. The girl, unable to endure the thought ofbcing such a burden to him, left the house. The devoted admirer then lost his senses, and rashly tried to take herlife and his own. The details were too pathetic even for Justice to be stern. I Extraordinary Accident on a. Sailing: Vessel. A sad accident happened at )lilazzo on A sailing vessel from (-‘cnoa nowâ€"I swear it by this lovely lieud resting l entered the port in the morning. and the so eoiilidingly on my shoulder, by this kiss crew pmcecdml to c - pty the barrels of sea on your sweet lips, l-«liut what. “13 1h it water which foi'iiicd the llelast. The first clicking noise I heard just then?" “Nothing. “'altcr. nothing but pap). lle'sa lawyer. you know, but he ainusvs himself with all Sorts f queer fads. llc's practicingon us with his Koluk. (lo on, Walter. dear. What were you about to swear '.'" He Was a Little Off. Old Gentlemanâ€"~“You haven't been quar- reling with that young man who calls on you, have you, Julia?" Julia-“Why. no, p1 ; why do you ask such a question?" Old Gentlemanâ€"“I noticed that he has kept any somewhat lately. lie has only been here six times this week so far."-[Bos- ton lien.le ‘1‘- | l l sailor who descended into the hole to take the brings out of the barrels was overcome by the gas which issued, and fell suil'ocated. As he did not reappear a second, l1. third, and a fourth sailor followed, and met, one after the other, with the same fate. Mean- while the fetid water was running out of the barrels, and the corpses were soon cover- ed with it. At last} the captain, surprised at the long absence of the sailors, wen: be- low and appfiluched the liatchway. when, the gases have arisen in "renter quantity, he was also suffocated. The boy, the only member of the crew now alive, became aware of the horrid event, and crying to the people on shore, there soon arrived a crowd with some debtors. The bodies were dragged up, and every moms employed to restore anima- ltion, but without effect. an ‘- The‘fialiy at thé Gate. ’ I‘ve heard an leasant stories W” if our neig ibor ’cros the way, ~ \ ugly little rumors, -;.<:»Of the things that people say. ' That. he's very fond of pleasure, ~ ‘ -_ That his hours are very late ; But I mther like to see him Meet his baby at the gate. I like to see the toddler Keeping watch each afternoon, And to note his eager glances “'hen the mother says “real soon.” Tlio’ it stirs a chord within me As I sit and ruminatc : Still I like to watch my neighbor Greet the baby at the. gate. I know not what his faults may be This neighbor ‘cross the way. But- I am sure his heart's all right, He proves that. day by day, And while it always pains me, (I lost my child and mate,) I love to see my neighbor Kiss his baby at- the gate. The British Harvest. In the London Thins of August the 15th instant appears the annual review of the result. of the British harvest, from the pen of Mr. 1". Moore, editor of the Mark Lane Express, whois at present on a visit to Canada. He places the crop at 28.50 bushels per acre. on some 2,530,000 acres, giving a. yield of 72,105,000 bushels, or about 9,000,000 quarters. The yield is considerably below the average, owing to the prolonged wet season in June and July, the yield being 3,700,000 bushels less than last year, mid 10,000,000 below that of 1884. Deducting the reserve for seeding purposes, the quantity available for the home supply will not exceed 8,350,000 quarters, and as 27,000,000 quarters are required Great llrit- ain will be dependent on foreign supplies for 19,000,000 quarters. “ It is very evi- dent,” writes Mr. . Moore, “ that this will not be obtained except at higher prices than have been hitherto ruling for wheat, and farmers may with confidence look for- vard to 405 a quarter ($1.25 per bushel) as the price they are likely to obtain for their wheat this year. The total wheat crop of Europc‘is placed , at 155,700,000 quarters, of which France will contribute 35,000,000 quarters, Russia 30,000,000 quar- ters and Hungary 17,000,000 quarters, but as the consumption of Europe reaches 175,- 000,000 quarters, there will remain a dc- ficieucy of 19,300,000 quarters or 154,400,- 000 bushels to be made good by the United States, Canada, India, Australia. and South America. Statistics gathered by the Huii~ gurian ministry of agriculture place the wheat harvest of the world at 725,000,000 hectolitres, and the quantity required by importing countries at 123,000,000 hectolit- res. The total quantity 9. 'ailable to meet the import deinund'is estimated at. 148,000,- 000 licctolitres. The Minister of Agricul- ture, in his report, lays stress upon the fact that, owing to.t‘i:c small quantity of stored ‘ grain, the surplus is small as compared with the import requirements. As a, hectolitrc is equivalent to ‘.2 5-0 bushels, the world‘s total wheat surplus for the ensuing your, iii- eluding stocks in store, is only about 70,- 000,000 bushels, an unusually smull suppfl‘. Towards the European deficiency of 154,000- 000, the United Statescmmof; well contri- bute more tlutn 75,0(i‘l’),000bushels or less than one-half the quantify required. The crop in that country is estimated by compet- ent authority at- 405,000,000, besides which about 50,000,000bushc1s have been carried forward from the last crop year, giving an available supply of «155,000,000. The home consumption will absorb, at least, 300,000,- 000, and some 03,000,000 bushels are requir- ed for seed and the'nicchaiiical (ti-is, leaving“r available for export nominally 87,000,00- but as the reserve stock never falls below 20,000,000 bushels, the actual amount to be sent abroad can hardly exceed 70,000,000 bushels. In view of this situation there seems no reason to doubt that the recent advance in wheat. will be maintained, and that the farmers of Canada will enjoy the blessing of both a large and valuable crop. _ _____ ,5 . An Extraordinary Phenomenon. A correspondent of the .b'umn’irsffir (imbm' wrote froni (‘horlfon on August 8, ullingattcntion to “the magnificent phonon- inenon of Tuesday night last (51h inst), which appeared in the northern heavens. Returning from the direction of Chorlfoiil (,lreen towards Koppel l-load, one’s eye was entranced as with a magic spell by one of the most beautiful sights ever witnessed. I have had the pleasure of seeing a goodly number of heavenly or solar sights, but few, if any, surpassing this one. The object must surely have been more thanmere nothiiigness. It was first not-iced to the right of and above Ursa Major, shot downwards as a huge ball of fire, then apparently nearing the limit? of the ‘Pointcrs,’ burst with a vivid display of variously coloured sparks, leaving l-ehind it apparentlyâ€"the distance of the one ‘poiiitcr’ to the otherâ€"a streak or bar, about the length oiaiid resembling the t lirec bright stars often called the ‘Yard-stick' in the ‘Hunter's liirdle,’ part of the beautiful con- stcllatlon Orion, the bar itself being dotted the whole length with little diamonds of varied brilliance, w'iieh continued for the space of between fifty and sixty seconds quite distinct, then gradually, one after the] other, along tlielsr as it \vcre dying out. Succeeding this there \ 'us quite a thick kind of nebula: for some t:n minutes over and around the scene, similar to a. portion of the ‘hlilky \Vay,’ which g udually faded away, leaving a clear patch behind it. The heavens around the scene were most brilliantly lighted up for some time. The time of ob- servation was from 11.7 r. .‘-l. exact to 11.22, or fifteen uiiiiutes,andthe occasionouclong to be rcuieinbemd, and indeed strikingly con~ firming the beautiful Words of thc l‘mlinb‘t â€"â€"‘The Heavens declare the glory of find: and the firmainciit slimveth llis handiwork.” . m... The the din Sphere. “ The sphere of a woman is constantly ex- tending. It will never stop until it reaches thcfurtlicriiiost limits of human nativity. If reed be men shall beswep: one .iiiic by its resistless force as the weed is tossed by the torrent," exclaimed Mrs. Goggles, tlic emin- exit reformer. : " There, John, what do you think of the. ':" whispered Mrs. llanyWeight to her little spouse, “ Well, I guess she's tight,"sighed John. “ Guess: Don't you know she's tight ‘.'" “ Yes, Celestine, yes :I do know it. 1 saw in the psper the other day that hoop-skirts were becoming fashionable, dear." v ‘: hormonal Sirius. Thu-nun: 8:07;.” Captivity. .\l. Edmond Chaudoin. a manager of the 'trading firm of Fabro & Co., at \\'1iyduh, who was one of the hostages seized by the King of Dahomey. has upon his return to France communicated to a Paris paper. I.‘11!m!m(ion, the diary of what occurred during the time that he and twelve other Europeans were in captivity. M. Chuudoin and his companions were not only the eve- witnesscs of some extraordinary and terrible Scenes, but were subjected to such rutal treatment that it is surprising thcv should. have cseaped with their lives. The sum-ll garrison, consisting of twelve whites (two were missionaries) and eleven Krooiuans, were beleagurcd for some days, and finally, on an assurance that. they had nothing to fear from the King, who was much vexed at their lack of confidence in him. they left the: factory. ixo sooner had M. Chuudoin and. his eleven white companions arrived at La. (Jorc’thau they were made prisoners. After being maltreated by the negrocs, and cross- exaiiiined by so-called magistrates, they were loaded with the chains used for the slaves. They were. then hurried out into a courtyiu'd, where stood Two lllDBOL‘S l-‘llTlSlIl-ZS. and believing that their last hour had 001119, the two missionaries promised each other that whicncver of the two was executed last shomd give the absolution to the other. Stripped of all they had on. excepting their shirts and drawers, they were chained to- gether in couples and huddled into a small but, where they passed the night in vrcut; suffering. to he brought up u uin the fo low- I ing morning before the tri mind of La (lore. The magistrate, who failed to extract from them any information as to the rumoured landing of Fr Inch troops at \Vhydah, allow- ed their goalcrs to torture them in court. by beating them over the head with large scissors and pinching their cans and noso with tweezers, then ordered them back to the hut. The next day they were allowed to wash and were given some clothes, beinu‘ told that they would he conducted the same night. to Aboniey. They did not, however, go further then Alluda, where the King was expected, and the night after their arrival, they could hear from the place in which they were confined the SlloL‘TS AND (’RllZS I which greeted them. The King was seated in the middle of the circle, beneath uthutcii- ed roof which protected his throne from the sun, with his wives and funiiliars grouped around him. The prisoners were brought be- fore him and made to prostrate themselves, and the King having said something which they did not understand, they were taken back to their prison. Ilut soon afterwards their fettcrs wer . all removed. They were told‘ibcy must write ah; tfcr to their King in France, ask him to suspend hostilities, and usniro him that the King of Dahomey was the freiiid of France, and this war the Work of Lieutenant Buyol. M. Chuudoiii and his companions, of course, promised to write to the “King of If ‘uncc,” as desired, and the next day they were again chained, and taken to Abomcy, in the rear of tho army which followed the King to his 'apiial. \Vheii they r -aclied the gates of the town the first objects which met their gaze \vcro four urge earthenware pots, from which ' rose A CLoi‘n or runs and which ciziittcd a. most. nauseous smell. These pots contained the heads of four French sharp-shooters who had been killed at Kotonon, the heads, \vbiclinvcrc in an ad- vanced state of decomposition, having been sent up as a present. to the King. The pris- oners were not accorded a second audience of the King until the, ‘.an of May, after some cmissarics sent to the coast: in order to treat for an cxohuugc of prisoners had rc- turiicd. The audience took place at t‘r in the morning, and the King was E!H')l2 u gilt pipe, and had around him five hund- sonie negrcsxcs, who were very prodigal in their attentions to him. The captives were told to sit down, two on each chair, and in this uncomfortable position they hatched to his speech. He asked them to write in the “King of France and advise him to have llayol’s bead brought to him as a peace offer- ing, and to release the negro, authorities nl Kotonou. The letter was imcordingly writ- ten, and addressed by the King; of llahunu-y himself to “King Count," after whirl: the monarch declared that the I’i'encliiiicn wort free to return to '\\'hyduli. The l‘orlugtuu Governor took them under his protection ii: the fort until they eiiibzirkcd for France,» thankful to have escaped with their lives. "(. U Our Trade With Great Britain. During the month of Julytlic (:Nlllll‘bll‘lfll of the Dominion was satisfactory, the vain-.1 of the shipments to (heat Britain, taccoiding to London llourd of Trade returns, beini ' £1,505,308 as agwinst £1,400,323 during [in same month lit:~l_\'0l\1‘. Since the beginning of flit year the exports have aggregated £3,- 103.13. , as; cmnpuieli with £2,772,4'i33du1iug ,thc corrl-spoiiding period of last year. 'l'bt Isliipinciits last month show an lllt’l‘ttltr-(f it iclll'tlt' and slim-p. flour, wheat and (,‘lltlmt‘! ’whilc the q-xpoits of butter and fish show i .coiisidci'ublc decline. AH rega: ds 1 bolumlusl trade, hcwn timber wrist-xpoi‘tcd to iLSilli’lll’sl amount by 5:40.037, but in pawn lumber than was an increase of £153,070. ‘ The iiiipoits from the United Kingdom t1 Canada for a month of July wure Valued tif- £575,717asagriinst £633.3‘30 for the saint -inonth last year, showing a diminution of l £57,000. The imports since .lzinullry 1 ug- ,grcgatc £2,73470l0 ll‘l against £5l,07‘..’,‘.".‘|. during the mun: period of last year, luring I llCL’l‘('ll'-i(£ (If £333.38“. Tin-lo was it l‘t'lllifi- ;tion of the imports during July in i-nttol goods of £1550). in jute goods of £0,503, in linen of £74,437, in i-ilk of £134. in woolch g fabrics of £15,130, in worsted fabrics vi 3 £222,523”. in carpets of £7,022. and in hard- warc and cutbe of £1,118. There were in- crmseel imports of railroad iron, pig iron, [in plates and hltcl. Couldn't Preserve tlie Ponce. l - ] -___-,__- .,_c_,_.._ l i “ I'm afraid I'll b'we in make u complaith , against you,” said the captain of the police istatioii to the pittioltnan. ' “ For what reason, sir?" “ For what i‘eawii‘.’ \be, the people on , your boat are always creating a dinturlmnco jund decent people cannot pass along the f l v street where you do duty Without being iii- , “tilted or m ilti-eatcd. Can't you preserve [the peace l _“ .\'o, sir, I can't. '1 pies-1n c. The people on my beat are iigbb ling all the time.” w There is no pear-e to». .' w...” ...._.,-.. ..m .._