- ' • (• • , ; ^ • • • .•tt • , * . ' ' ' • - v* " "• • • "' '• " J ' : :{r ]• \ ]i. IW StlKE, Halt Of * publisher; j ' • : : : ILLINOIS. THE MUSIC OF THE TM&E& THE world is filled with mturie . To ea.ru attuned aright, u *'« irmony - • 'h}k nttsic, B»sJbree»fc ve such gentlebeauty ' As the music of the trees. il J , . 'They all have different voices, 1 < And were their language known, i? ,IA beauty all undreamed KooU<M^| lit every vailed tonte; ' ' ,>* •• *%' 'Their hearts are swept by view!w<irie|iL-i*' Alike at eve or morn. • o As TO the tranced and listening ear, , Their melodies are borne. , " ^"manhood itser-sra*. S?CH 'Thro' joy, or calm, or suffering; Their music met my ear. j . •. ,• Tne Maple mnig in gladness, • " " •' • i $'biie the Aspen danced,in glM;* . • Jut the music of the motunful Pine Was ever sweet to me. .^When first 1 knew its swelling notes iOT^^r0U|Sv) To1 And mite armstoTie; JPnJl n.any a castle there I built; 1 f li breathed nuross my brow. ,f { 1 ^ 1 . 7 ' ^ I made my Pine an errant knigfe&H Or troubadour of old: And the Maple was his lady-love-- .Dearer than gems or gold. He brushed Ms leaves $nd spoke to her Across raV •aflnubftir, And her g«Ctte roiqf %ou]d rustle back Sweet awwrst ttrfkiB pnfrer." v « Bat mamliood came, and 'mid iti ogres,' Ssffeet voice® fladaees hmiwhk1 * « MpcMldrap ia il* old Pine plitjfct, £ f*f s.j| Its topmost branches sought, Or. neath it* sturdy. spreading arms. They shouted in their glee, i 'While tbe Pmt Would vol! its eofiolifcok Cike the distant moaning sea. Its voice was full of gladness then, Its tone in mournful now ^ The Fire King swept across its form. And scathed its lofty brow; The group that Bought its welcome »M* --"frntwa broken ring--- 11 • ***• No hope of other life it has, To meet their welcoming. And ev*r still in sadden^Tlone^r"** T' TI It whispers in my ear, • K " Tho' I am seaml my hef*64a sodmI And upward my career; Be thou the same--for unto thee • A better lot is given: ?My life is bat for earth alone, f f" 0Ut thou oans't enter fipaven.^, | # T^aii^.js.JbvDvery tttp^: V 1. And each leaf has ft tone, And on the ear that listens, Its melody is thrown. So, whate'er may be the musio That is flung upon the breeze, "There are few that have the sweetness Like the music of the trees. 1 r' A " f / v '• -~livral Xew&o ^ * i t -- H ' f •v>.* In the eyes of every pious Hindoo he Gauges is a sacred stream. Brah mins make their most solemn oaths upon the water of the Ganges, and when they are thus bound to a promise, they are. little likely to break it. Long pilgrimages are undertaken to the banks of the holy river, and it is con sidered a blessing to die within sight of its flowing current. < Its tributary, the Jumna, is scarcely less elevated in character, and those who dwell along its shores possess a sanctity greatly en vied by their less fortunate country men. The Ganges and Jumna unite their waters at Allahabad, and here we find one orf the holiest spots of the land of Vishnu and Siva. The Hindoo writ ers say that three streams unite here, one of them coming from Heaven, and being invisible to mortal eyes. The devout Indian accepts this statement without a moment* s hesitation, and there is not one in all the land who doubts the existence of the triple river. To doubt where his own religion is concerned is not characteristic of the Hiniiai), 5however mttch be may be skeptical concerning other faiths than his own. The most astounding mir acles are set forth in the Indian mytli- ology with all* imaginable gravity, and the faithful will recount them with the calm consciousness of the most com plete belief#1 * It ha§ bqen often said that! the slow progress W^ufr iittssibnalles: in India is due in some measure to the comparative tameness of our Biblical founts. " Is that all your God has done?? said a Hindoo, alter listening so'the%tory Of Christ's life; "why, our gods have done a thousand times as much. Krishna brought a whole mountain 500 miles in a minute to hold over his head as an umbrella, and Hu- mayoon carried a hundred islands to plaey in the channel bet ween Hindostan and Ceylon, so that another god might walk across withouft wetting his feet. Vfoieb <30 p! .-the gods *ras sick they sent another to get some bark from a tree on a mountain in the Himalayas; he forgot the name of the tree, and so he took the whole mountain on his shoulders, aiid carried it so quietly that all the village® on it were not disturbed in the least. They took the bark from the tree, and then he went back again, and though he had a thousand mixes to travel each way, the mountain was only gone four nours from ita place." There is no use attempting to awaken these people from their superstitions by relating the miracles in our sacred writings, tor for every one of ours, they have a hundred at leasjt. i \ The meeting of the waters at Allaha bad is a holy place, and many thou sands of people go there annually to bathe in the sacred stream, and per form the ceremonies which shall secure their happiness forever. January and February are the great months of the pilgrimage, and it was mv fortune to arrive at Allahabad early m the latter mopth. The train dropped me at the station, and in company with a German friend I sought shelter in a neighbor ing hotel. Crowds of pilgrims were in the third-class carriages of the train, so that when we issued from the sta* tion we found ourselves in a dense mass of the patiy®. population. When the construction" of railways in India was first proposed, the Hindoo priests op posed it bitterly, as they saw that the new njode of travel would be certain to find favor in the eyes of pilgrims, as it would greatly facilitate the perform ance of a pilgrimage. During the mutiny the rebels destroyed every loco motive that fell into their hands; they w^re afraid to approach near the " Kafhtning dawk," as the locomotive is called, and so they stood off at a dis- ti*.nc£ and battered it with artillery. ^lie» - the railways were opened, tfU f iest|4|glai'ed that a pilgrimage per- V formed by steam would have no value, and that anyone Who Wished to be saved must adhere to the old method. But somehow the people would not be persuaded that the innovation was al- lUOj( I.VU A UU H UJ travel at once, ana at this day nearly all their pilgrimages are performed by it. The locomotive and its train have struck a heavy blow at the power of the priests in India. Luckily for us, it was a special as well as a general feast-day. JRor tw o!v| day# in the month of February there if worship at an- rtltaf insklethV ftfrft of Allahabad, and we arrived on one of these occasions. Crowds of men and women, chiefly tie residents of Allaha bad, were wending their way to the fort. For a Hindoo crowd tney ap peared unusually well, as they were m clean garments, which formed a pleas ing contrast to the shabby attire of the native when there is aothing to require him to be well dressed. Many of the men wore red turbans, and many of the women were in red or purple garments, so that the uniform white which one sees in Southern India was relieved for the better. The women had evidently taken much pains with their attire, and sported such a profusion of orsaments that some of them seemed fairly laden down. Their most prominent decora tion. in the eye of an Occidental, is the ring which pierces one side ot the nose and hangs over the mouth. It varied from one to four inches in diameter, and must be a vast inconvenience to the wearer. Fashion je arbitrary in her commands, and ie implicitly obeyed, whether in oise conntty or ¬her. I trust it will be long before this Oriental ring takes root, or rather nose, in America, and is considered a sine qua non by the fair ones of New York and Boston. The worship at this altar consisted in placing flowers upon theshrine and then moistening then^fwifh water from the Ganges. *So great was the crowd that we were unable to get near the en trance of the little cave where the wor ship was performed, and after a little elbowing amid the scowls of the faith ful, who did not relish iour presence, we turned owl- f*»tstej>l- towa,rd the river, or rather to the junction of the two rivers. There was a double stream of people, one going to s and the othef returning fjronl lh| point5 wliere tlii waters meet, atiti I am »aru hi saying that the crowd was more deflse than one finds it in the busiest hours of the busiest dsj,y on Broadway. There were pilgrims from all parts of India, and the various castes were jmingled with out much order oir regularity. The moit noticeable jn the '^ovrcfcwere the fakirs, or holy mendicants. Tfcey were in marked contrast to the general cleanliness, as they were all more or less dirty (generally more) , and gave a spectator the impression that dirt and divinity are closely associated in the Hindoo mind. Many were sprinkled with ashes from head to foot, others were besmeared with, holy mud that formed a sort of veneering upon their bodies, and others again were streaked with paint as though an artist had been trying his brushes upon them- Some were creeping upon hands and knees, and bowing at each advance, in accord ance with their vows, and others were rolling over and over in the dust with a result the reverse of solemn to an infi del spectator. We met one fellow who held his right arm in the air; he had held it thus for years, until it had be come immovable and useless; the fin ger-nails were grown to the length of several inches, and one of them had penetrated the palm of the hand and actually protruded on the back. Some of the fakirs had their breasts torn and bleeding, and others had lacerated various parts of their bodies so that the blood was flowing in visible streams. All were clad in the scantiest manner possible, and evidently their tailors1 bills were of little moment. A gift of a comb to one of these holy men would have been quite ^superfluous, as their hair was patted in at thick mass nemiore to*be ^enetrad&l -4?y the ordi nary accessory of the toilette than is the side of an ironclad ^y a nursery toy gun. \ t ^ ; Formerly the fekirf jiiKlulgfd In a variety of tftrtur^jufchr sts Swhifiilg upon hooks fastened in their backs, sit- ting upon iron spikes, passing knives through their cheeks, and publicly cut ting off their fingers and toes. They never appeared to suffer pain, but, onr tlie contrary, assumed expressions of delight which won the admiration of the spectators, and confirmed them in the belief that jthe fakirs t^ere possessed of supernatural power. Of late years the authorities have interfered with these pastimes, as they have with the suttee, or widow-burning, so that the Hindoo festivals are shorn of many at tractions to lovers of the horrible. But in spite of the Government prohibition there is enough remaining to satisfy- any ordinary craving, if I may judge by the sights of our aay at Allahabad. About a mile from the meeting of the waters we were compelled to leave our carriage, which could not proceed further through fear of accidents in the crowd. Our guide hailed the driver of an elephant, and in less than a minute we had concluded a bargain, and were seated upon the back of th6 beast. To be exact, I should hardly say as above, as the animal was equipped with a sad die like two sofas of small size placed back to back, and hanging along hit sides* 1 took one of these, and my friend the other, while our guide was mounted on the elephant's rump. He knelt at the command of his driver, and we climbed to our places by means of a small ladder, which was afterward car ried in front by an attendant, and made a very convenient battering-ram for opening a passage througn the crowd. The "driver sat on the neck of the ele phant, and secured obedience by means of a huge spike of iron, with which he prodded the animal's skull. At first there was a disagreeable rocking that induced us to cling to our seat with both hands; by degrees it ceased, or seemed to cease, and as we gained con fidence we began to enjoy the ride. From our elevated position we could survey the assemblage at our ease, and were quite safe from elbowing and con stant contact with beggars and other disagreeable persons. For half a doz en reasons at lea t we w^re thankful that we had fou id and engaged this Jiovel conveyance In a solemn and stately way, as thopgh we were Princes of the blood royal, we mounted a sandy ridge that overlooks the bed of the Ganges, and surveyed the scene. An area a mile long by half a mile m width was covered with peo ple--covered so thickly as to appear paved with them. Rarely h*ve I looked upon a picture more bizarre than this; thousands upon thousands of people covering the plain, many shouting and gesticulating in prayer or praise, and nearly all moving slowly, in one direc tion or another. Near the river there were rows of tents and booths, some the abodes of priests or fakirs, others serv ing as resting-places for the weary, and others again devoted to the sale of food or other merchandise to meet the wants of the faithful. Flags with curious devices floated over many of these tents, and gave a semi-military aspect to the scene; our guide explained that the flags indicated in some instances the different Provinces of India, and in others the worship of particular gods. We advanced through the crowd, which was opened by the shouts and the lad der of our attendant, passing rows upon rows of fakirs tend other beggars seated or squatted by the wayside. A cloth was spread before each for the reception of the gifts of the benevolent, and I observed tnat in nearly Qvcty in stance the gifts consisted of "a few ker nels of rice oar other grain. Rarely was money given by anybody; a few copper coins were lying before one of the beg gars, and our guide explained that these were skillful baits placed there by the mendicant himself in the hope that strangers might add to the num ber. None of the beggars were pleas ing to iook upon, ana as a glance in their direction was, sure to raise a de mand for charity* we soon learned to turn our gaze elsewhere. The crowd in general came and went; poverty abounded, but was act universal, as some of the pilgrims were fevidently persons of wealth, and had a consider able following of attendants. W e met or passed several palankeens, and sometimes the processions were quite extensive. A wealthy rajah was point ed out to us; his palankeen and its sur roundings were gorgeous in the ex treme, and his attendants were not less than a hundred in number. He had been to bathe in the sacred waters, and was returning homeward with the con- OLIVUOIIAJOO v* uav iiw:^i a jjtuuS aat which would receive its sure re ward. As we approached the junction of the rivers the assemblage increase^ in density, so that our equipage 'was forced to move slowly. A lot of rafts or boats extended a hundred yards or so into the water where the Ganges and Jumna meet, and here there were many hundreds of people indulging in the sacred bath. They stood or knelt in the water, uttering their prayers aud« making many bows and genuflections. There was no order or ceremony about the matter, but each devotee was for himself alone. On the bank near by were little platforms where Brahmin priests stamped upon the forehead of each worshiper a sign to indicate tie service he had portormed, and near them were other platforms where cer tain of the pilgrims sacrificed thelf, hair to the goddess of the river. They submitted hair and beard to the bar ber, and in a few moments the tonso- rial operation was performed. The product of the harvest was then thrown into the river, the donor being prom ised a million years in paradise for ev- ery hair thus sacrificed. Many were content with this modest recompense, and doubtless the prematurely bald ones envied those whose locks were thick and strong. We made a little circuit among the tenia, but found nothing there of special interest. We advanced as near as possible to the river, and barely es caped an accident; the sloping bank wad wet with the water which dripped from the emerging bathers, and our elephant slipped and partially fell. But we were righted without accident, and as the Indian sun was at meridian, and beaming pitilessly upon- lour heads, we gav» the order to return to the sandy ridge, whence we took a long and fare well look at one of the most remarka- ble.scenes of Hindostan.--7, W, Knox, i n U t u e p o r ' s B a # a r . , ) , j j i .. A Fearfkl ladletnest* Florbncb Nightingale, intheJft«e- teenth Century for August,-dispels the glamor which is sedulously spread over British rule in India. Sftie gives the number of those who have died from famine in that country With a Single year, apparently 1874, at 6,000,000. The official figures for the years 1877-8- are 1,-850,000. The evils which she cites as the causes of the terrible rav ages of death are: The lack of irriga tion, which the local administration has engaged to provide; the monstrous taxation which crushes out manufact ures; and the usury which is permitted by the laws. The famine has been warded off from the Provinces of Tan- jore and Kistna, where irrigation has been provided. In other Provinces one person out of four of the total population has been starved to death. The cry of the land and of the people is for the water which the Government has the power to secure. Of taxation, Miss Nightingale cites the duty levied on salt of seven pounds a ton upon a cost of 12s. 6d. This. is a tax of more than 1100 per cent, on a chief necessity of life. Our indignant author declares that "manufactures are strangled by the tax on salt." Yet this is in the chief dominion of the Gov ernment which claims to be the leading champion of free trade for all the world She has reason for calling the authorities to account for their griev ous extortions upon these suffering Provinces. The taxes are rendered more bur densome by the fact that they are pay able in money, and not in kind as in olden times. As a consequence the people must get money for this pur pose at every risk. Whether they have crops or not, whether their products are salable or not, the taxes must be paid. The producer often has to bor row money to satisfy the tax-gatherer. For this he has to pay commonly 50 per cent., and often more, even up to 100 per cent. The money-lender is shrewd there as elsewhere; the ryot is often ignorant, and he signs for his loan the bond presented to him. The costs of the foreclosure of the claim are fearful. Miss Nightingale cites one case, where, upon a debt of £4, the costs were £16, or 400 per cent. All these things occur under English law. The consequence is that the title of the land is going to the usurers, and India is starving to death. Terrible as is the picture, it is sketched by the hand of a woman who, by hor devotion il the Crimea, has proven her devotion to Britain and its highest interests. Sure ly British rulers cannot neglect such evils in the Provinces which give to the sovereign her proudest title. Let us add only a single paragraph of inci dents which she relates from the life: "In the Madras famine (1878-1874) children of seven to ten years used to bring poor little naked living skeletons of two and three and four years to the Government relief centers, feeding the babies day after day for weeks with the daily dole, asking for nothing for them selves, till the little foster-mothers would themselves sink at the gates. They were often of no kin. sometimes even of a different caste or religion. Hundreds of fathers and mothers going to other parts of the country to get work and food, left children to die in their villages. Little ones who had no little foster-mothers, wandered about to get a dole of food from any one who would give, then laid down and died with--pass me the word--the heroic agony of childish patience. For ex ample, one missionary from Cuddapah met in one day over one hundred (children) who had no one in the world to care for them."--Western ttow Btyah. Xade Another Ekml Happy. It was a mother with a two-year old boy this time. She dragged him-into the room in a rickety old cart, bounced him out as if he had been a package of hardware, placed him on the center- table with a force of twenty-eight pounds to. the square foot, and called out: " Mr. Joy, we have agreed to leave' it to you!" " Weil, madam, it's my opinion that it's a boy, and he's not over four years old." " Four, sir! why, he's only two, and we want you to feel of his bumps and decide if he'll make a smart inan. I say he has the head of a preacher, and my husband says he'll' make a lawyer, and my sister says he'll invent some great things. Put your hand on his head, Mr. Joy." Bijah carefully placed his paw on the young chap's head, slid it around for awhile, and remarked: " Madam, his bump of anxiety is very great. He will be a great hand to git up and tear things when a street car gits off the " Willjhe? Oh! Fm so glad, Mr. Joy!" "His bump of inventive genius is monstrous, madam--perfectly mon strous. I think he will invent a new sort of hair-brush before he is ten years old--one with a corkscrew in one end and a jack-knife in the other. I speak for the first one turned out, madam." " And you shall have it." "Right here, behind the left ear, is the bump or oratory, madam. See how it stands out! Before he is twelve years of age he will be able to deliver as good a speech as you ever heard-- ana get his pay for it. Here between the eyes is what is called humility. Just see how humble he is even now! Why, if he had forty opinions on finance he wouldn't advance a single one of them if it was to disturb anyone's feel ings. Here, under his eyes, is what is called cheek. Behold the broad ex panse! There isn't a man in Chicago who can hold a candle to him when lie's fifteen years old. Take him away. He's built right up from the ground, has a hide stuffed full of bones and muscle, and all you need do is to keep on feeding him milk, giving him plenty of room to roll over in. and don't be too particular about his swallowing a few hair pins, shingle nails and thim bles." " Mr. Joy, you have made us happy," said the woman, tears coming to ner eyes. " The first time we can get some oysters cheap, we will make a supper and invite you over." When she had bounced the boy into his cart and backed him out, Bijah swept up her tracks and tenderly whis pered: " How easy it is to make people hap py! If some one had encouraged me when I was two years old, I mignt now be President of Mexico, and have feet as big again as these."--Detroit Free Prqss. , A Weepiag Alligator. Mb. Philbrick, among many other living curiosities, possesses an alligator about half grown and an infant which is old enough to crawl and go about the yard unattended. A strange attach ment existed between the alligator and the infant, the former being so docile that the friends frequently spent hours during the day in playing with each other. The alligator would amble clumsily to his tank, take a sportive dive, and returning he would embrace the little one, so to speak, and give un mistakable evidence of delight in re ceiving tender caresses in return. So secure seemed the friendship between them that Mr. Philbrick never thought of harm, and left the playmates to themselves to pass the time as suited their inclination. The friendly rela tions did not last long, however, for Mr. Philbrick was startled about ten o'clock on Wednesday last by agonizing screams coming from the back yard, and rushing out he found,to his horror that the alligator had bitten the little fellow's arm almost entirely off, the fraction of limb dangling by a slender bit of cuticle. The poor suffering little thing moaned and wept bitterly, and the alligator, seeing the distress he had created, crawled up to his victim and shed copious tears of sympathy, his expressionless countenance giving him the appearance of a subdued and senti mental ass. Mr. Philbrick severed the lacerated member, dressed the stub carefully, and the animal is now able to waddle about on three legs. We have often heard of " crocodile tears," but until Mr. Philbrick's statement our faith in their existence could have been .easily shaktjn.--TallaJumu Florufian. . • ' ' ' - " A Youths' Department. LET NOT THE SUN 00 DOWN UPON YOUR WRATH. See! behind the crimson west, gfeasiw gee s loud hum, and linnet's throt|K> ^ e J^'dbreeze, «. t • ^, Moonbeams kias tbe rustling tree£! IS-?.?'" slumber ae&ls your eyefe V™™*11 hid contentions cease, V; i l«t the sun go down in peace. •«* 1 i<fv* tr*1 • Jam not hymns of praise to learn* , w j While your heart* with anger buSfe • • Kneel not to your evening prnye* i !<» Witii resentment Imrkin* there God, who bids you dwelHn love i>*"' God, who se<s you from abwm--. „ Bb is grovei yoor pride to aee .-z?*' tsuoie yon disagree. i§ww 5 fee the silver stars ari»0, -' Bre soft slumber Reals youreyflh, ' * 1 ' * bid your quarrels eeaae, I*et the sun go down in peace. --Bernard Barton. TTmagic BOX. J. On my table I have a rtiagic box. It does not look like anything very won derful--just a tiny bit of a Drown box, packed full of some curious white stuff; but you'll spe there is something strange about it when I tell you that, closely folded and packed within its shining brown covers, it holds a greater marvel than ever juggler's box unfolded--no less than a perfect beauty of a plant, with tender green leaves and rich clna- ters of fragrant flowers--a thing of in expressible beauty that will be a joy to me all the long summer. Yet If you open this treasure-box you win see nothing remarkably wonuerfui, oniy a little powder-like stuff, without a hint of its possible glory. How, then, will I manage to draw the shy beauty out of its little brown cover, and unfold it to our sight? I'll tell you. By and by, When the sun gets brighter, and mother earth has got her old bones thoroughly warm, I shall carefully prepare a soft little bed for my curious box. Very tenderly I shall lay it down, and cover it with a fine, soft covering, and then I shall come away and leave it. The first drop of dew or rain that reaches the box will be greedily drank up, or absorbed into it, the shell will grow softer, a wonderful little live thing, called a germ, will seem to wake up out of sleep, stretch itself a little, push open the box and step out. When fairly out, part of it will start down into the earth for water and food, and another part will push aside the cover I laid over it, and show its pretty green head in the sun. . So, my magic box is nothlhg but a seed! * - Well, yes, that is what we call it; but it is no less a miracle, and a marvel, because it is so common we think noth ing of it. . Let me tell you more about it Do you know how it came to be a seed, in stead of a few atoms of starch and other material? Why, all last summer, a lovely plant stood in my garden, and worked with all its power, collecting treasures from the air and earth, just to prepare and pack up a few of these little brown boxes An summer long its roots spread around in the soft ground, and the tiny mouths at the end of them drew up every bit of food they could find, ana sent it up into the plant, and its hundreds of leaves drew m more food from the air. As soon as the mother plant was strong enough, it sent up a stem with a little ball on the top, packed full of boxes, carefully covered from cold and damp by deli cate tinted robes as soft and smooth as satin, and protected by a soft green cloak of silk, which is soon put off. This beautiful dress, which wan* the very lowliest the plant could make,was a sign of its noble use, to guard and protect the treasure-boxes and keep safely the marvels prepared for another summer. All this time, you may be sure, I had noticed it; and when it grew larger, and the green cloak began to open here ana there, and I could see the del- cate satin robes inside, I watched It closer than ever. And at last, when the green mantle was thrown entirely off, and the beautiful bright flower, with its precious package of boxes, opened to the morning sun, I--why, I picked it and carried it into the house, where it gave out its delicious breath and filled the room with fragrance. It was a pansy flower;- Now, of course, taking it away from the plant put an end to the packing of that bundle of little boxes; and, if the plant had been like some people, it would have taken its first disappoint ment to heart, become discouraged, drooped its beautiful leaves, and said (in flower talk), " It's of no use for me to try to ripen my seeds. No sooner do I get a package open to the light than some great monster tears it o But the dear little green uiother didn't belong to that easily discouraged class. By no means. No sooner had she lost her pretty blossom than she began again. From every joint below the top she sent out a hew stem of buds, and where I might have had but one flower if I had left it on the branch, I now had a whole bush full. But I could not let them alone. Everyone that opened its pretty eyes in the daylight was at once carried into the house, to live on my table and perfume .the room. Bravely the.little plant went on with her work. Bud after bud came up, so determined was shs to perfect at least one box of treasures for next year; and at last it was accomplished. One mod est little blossom dad hide under the leaves so that I did not see it until it was fading, went on and ripened its green ball of seeds. They grew large and brown. The flower petals, being no longer needed to protect them, fell off, ana there I found them one day, just ready to fall to the ground. I have other magic boxes, too. One is round and brown, not so large as a pin's head, and has a beautiful plant packed safely away in it; and another is black and angled, and holds another kind of flower. This is flat and yellow, and has a sort of wing to it; and that is thin and long, and will give me still a different pleasure. Isn't it wonder ful that, little and simple as these tiny boxes look, each one has mysteriously wrapped up in it the power to produce a plant just like its parent? Some of the boxes are hard and tough as a cocoanut, and some are soft and: live in a house lined with silfc. Some are folded in cloaks and some are wrapped in leaves. Some are packed in a row, in long, narrow houses, like ^ and beans; and some rattle about ly in a round one. Some of them ve each a room to itself, like the Nelumbium, or water lily; and aoiba. are protected by an army of spears, as the children have often seen in the wild gooseberry. Some are keptfwarm in blankets of wool, and some are smoth ered in the middle of walls of flesh. There is no end to the variety of ways in which these wonder-boxes are ar ranged. ' And that is not the end of marvels* The little seed has notonly to be formed, and packed ready for next year, it also needs to travel a little to find a place to grow. If it did not there woula not be room for all the seeds on one plant to grow, and beside, each kind would grow only in one spot, and there would be no variety of trees or plants. The ways of getting about of the seeds pre as wonderful and beautiful as anything about them. Some of them have wings and fly off on the breew. lhe maple seed has a pair of them, much like insect's wings, and the dan delion has one of the softest feathers, that carries it far up into the air. Some of the seed cups burst with a violence and scatter tne little boxes far and. wide. One kind that I have read of is said to make a tremendous explosion, that can be heard for miles. Some seeds have hooks by which they catch onto people and animals, and so travel about with them. You know of one-- you call it " stick-tight." Others are sticky outside, and in that way make animals carry them about. And even some seeds are wrapped up in fruits, and eaten by birds and small animals; the fruit digests, but the seeds fall to the ground and grow. Birbs plant seeds in another way, by hiding -them in the ground, and squirrels do a great deal of the same sort of work. That much abused bird, the crow, has been seenJJ to plant acorns, and oaks have grown from them. And pigeons are1 notorious for taking nutmegs from one of the Malay Islands, where they grow, and planting them all over the whole group, much to the disgust of the ovraet of the nutmeg island. ' * The delicious envelope oif the seed,' such as the cherry, is, you se«, only » bait to induce birds to carry the seed away and give it a new place to grow. Perhaps the most wonderful of the wonder boxes belong to the ferns and mosses, and can only be seen with a mi croscope. • The fern, you know, has no real flow- * ers, but if you look at it carefully, at certain times of the year, you will see on the under side a tiny row of dots around the edge of every delicate leaf. These are boxes of seeds, or what per form the use of seeds, and are very curious to study. Every tiny dot is * heap of round ooxes. When ripe the box opens wide, like two sides of a cockle-shell, and scatters the golden- colored atoms with which it is filled all about. What makes it burst open P A marvelous arrangement--no less - than a little spring, which at first is< coiled around the box, but as it grows, straightens itself till it pulls apart the, box, as I have said. ' ' Seeds of messes--tiny things, ~soi small they look like dust, or are invis ible to us--are among the loveliest things in the worlds They are packed in tne daintiest imaginable baskets and boxes. A basket ,Q£ seeds, under the microscope, looks like a nest full of eggs, ana when they are ripe the rain , washes them out. The boxes are tight- ly closed till all is ready, when some which have a spring inside burst open with a snap, scattering the seeds; oth ers open a small dqor in the side and let the contents drop out; while still another kind jerks up the lid and shoots : •; the seeds out in a fine cloud. These atoms of seeds are so small that they float about in the air. We do not see them. There are millions upon millions, of many kinds, about = us; and they have a very useful work . to do in the world, which you may be sure they never try to shirk. The duly is to start vegetable growth in evety possible spot, a sort of pioneer work, and no one can imagine how much of the beauty of the earth we owe to the tiny seeds which plant the first bit of , green on barren places. This is how they do it: Wherever a spot of moisture remains, on bare rock or stone fence, on an old stump or cot tage roof, there some of these ever- boating seeds will stick and begin to grow. If the sun does not burn them up they will flourish, the next rain wUl leave more of its drops with them, particles of sand and dust will lodge there, and gradually make a little sou. Some of the larger winged seed will touch and take root, die and le^ve a little heap of soil, making room for larger ones, and after a while the bare x place will be covered with beauty. • Bare rooks that rise out of the sea thus come to be green spots, where birds plant the seed of fruit, and the restless waves of the ocean bring heavy nuts, and at last, where men and animals may live. And all this is due to the tiny mosses; for without their silent, Jmtient labor, no larger plant could have ound root there for a moment. Did you ever hear of such magic|| ixes as these ?-- Vich's Illustrated Majf*. boxes mine --A Bergen County man pleasantly sat down at breaklast, and ni? lovinc wife said " Darling, does your head ache?" He replied, with sufficient dignity, " No; why should you ask?" And she said back, " Well, dear, yon came in at three o'clock this morning, and as you couldn't hang your hat on the rack you put the rack down <m the floor, and said you'd hang every hat in the house on it; and I thought your head might ache."--X. ¥. aid. ' ' • ? v ; --^There is nothing in art that ca counterfeit the expression on the face of a man who has a raspberry seed un der the plate of his false teeth.--fioeft» land Courier. i, --Kentucky claims tnat it is an evi dence of the faithfulness of her population tiat there are no widows to oe found in the Blue region.