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v *" Hope. s - I lay in grief And Jiopo drew near to where I tossed alon Without relief, ? And paused a moment when she heard tha moan; Then raised her glowing eyes and met rain own. Nevor a word slio said, !"Yet still I gazed and still was comforted. Then binding low with wond'rous graco She laid her hand upon my eyes, Her cool hand on my burning face, And at her touch bright visions rise, Fresh woods and streams and unimaginc( skies. In softest tone xl- " ^ ' olio snug i,lid song mac nas no close, That deathless song which no one know3, Save she alone; The song that leaves no memory. The song of endless victory And future love; And as I listenod to tho-voice above, I felt as one returning from the dead; Slowly I rose and raised my drooping head. ?Si/tings. THE DOWN-HILL ROAD. "I gu?ss I never told yc 'bout Josiah's accident that he had a few years ago, did I, when lie and I was go in' to Murry ville, tradin'? Wal, if I hain't, then I will, that is, if you won't tell him that I told on't, 'cause he's alias sayin' a woin* an can't keep nothin' to herself, and I allow there is some things I can't keep, and this is one on 'cm. "As I was goin' to say, Josiah had got to go and git a lot of stuiT, some paint, a few rails to fix the fence with, some meal an' bran, an' one thing an' another, I don't remember jest what now, only I had occasion to remember these few. I'd got to have some cotton cloth, caliker, molasses, sugar, etc., so I told him I guessed I'd go along too. So I packed some eggs into a peck measure of oats, ^ ? 1 t 1 -j ii - - mi x uuu preuy near a pouncl of leathers tied up in a paper bag that I, had been aavin' along, so I thought I'd take 'em an' turn 'em towards my cloth an' things. "We loaded up an' got started early one Saturday mornin.' "We took the old gray marc an' the lumber-wagin. Ye 6ce, Josiah thought he could bring the rails better in a long wagin. The dashboard was split off pretty low down, but he said lie guessed 'twould hold all we should want to bring without spillin' out. So we drove along an' got to town about ten o'clock. "I went round to Jacobs's and sold my eggs, an' to Ilydc & Taylor's with my feathers, but they wouldn't give me my price, so I jest put 'em back into the wagin, an' went to Loomis's and bought my cloth and things, an* got back to "Williams's stable ? where Josiah alias keeps his horse?at jest two o'clock, an' he wa'n't there, so I went to the milliner's fihon t.n or it" mv Knnnit ' ? 1,1 r .. 0-_ ...j ji.vtu, uu au toiu the stable feller to tell Josiah where I was, an' to come after me with the team- j When I got there the bunnit hadn't been touched, an' in a few minutes up drove Josiah. Now, if you ever went anywhere with a man that's alias in a hurry, why, then, it's no use for me to undertake to tell ye what I went through with a-tryin' to keep that man from goin' off without me orsassin' that milliner. But * we got started at last, and Josiah Bays, says he: " 'We've got sich a load, and its so kinder hot, I'm goin'tgutoko the downhill road; it's a gob'dl^jjjpUl nigher that way than 'tis t'other, an's better road, too, except that pesky hill.' "'Yes,' says I, "pesky hill" is jest where I shan't go. I've rid down that hill once, a-holdiri* on with all my might, an' like ter pitched out the wagin head fust. No, sir, if you go that road you'll have to stop an' let me git out.' "Now you know Josiali as well as I do; he'll do anything to save a cent o' money or a miputc's time, and he's alias jayin' "time is money." "Wal, I let him have his way ruther than to have any more words about it, v but when we got to the hill I got out, an* after Josiali had took a good cud o' tobacker into his mouth, he and the old marc jogged along; but I see a few bramble berries 'longside the* road, and stopped to pick a few on 'ein, when I hcerd somethin' go kerslam, and there the old mare was, flat down, the wagin kinder stand in' on end, an' Josiah a-sprawlin' around on the horse's back, an' the jug o' molasses, pot o' paint, an' measure o' oats on top of him, an' somethin' o' ruther had wet my bag of feathers an' made a big hole in't, and things was kinder squeezed onto 'em, so that they was a-puffin' out in all directions. The cork got out o1 the jug, an' the fencerails was stan'in' in the air, some on 'em cross-ways an' I don't know what not. If that didn't beat all the sights I ever *ee. I never was bo tickled in my life, an' if it had killed him I don't believe I 1 could have helped laffin', for thore ho ] lay, covered with paint, molasses, fcath- 1 era. oats, bran an' dir* ?n> ? ? -J u aiauuci 1 man you never see than ho was. "Now, Josiah don't very often swear 1 in my hearin', but I tell ye there was a j blue streak on't down that hill that afterQoon, what wa'n't already streaked with j paint and molasses. Says I: t " 'Josiah, what's happened? Don't ye < like the down-hill road?' 1 44 'Consarn it I that's woman all over, j Ain't satisfied with seein' a man stove i round in this way, without twittin' on its i f ? : ' .' ;V '}.Jr'- ;sv>V-v* **," V-:'1 : ^t*VV; ' ^v.'.bein' his own fault; an' that aint all; ye won't sleep a wink to-night 'tilye've told ? ev'ry man, woman an' child in the neigli. borhood..' t "I jest stood there and hild on to my sides 'til I thought I should go off. an' when I got so I could speak, says I: 'Josinli Jones, you're a picture fer a Comick Almanack, if ever there was one, entitled 'A hen picked husband, tarred an' feathered an' ridin' on a rail.' As mud as he was, he couldn't help laffin', but ho didn't lad long, for when he got kinder gcthered up, an' began to pick off the feathers, an' look at himself, and take Kinder of an inventory o' things, his countenance fell a rod, I t?ll ye. But if you'd ben there, as I was, an' seen the molasses and oats drippin' oft his trowsers-legs into the tops of his shoes, his hands all paint an' sand, tin' hi3 stovepipe hat all stove in on one side, with a big gaub o' putty, you'd 'a thought the specimen o' humanity was the wust you ever see. He went 'round an' begun, to pick up things, an' says I: 'Josiah, what's become o' that cud o' tobackcr ye put in ycr mouth jest as ye started oil?' "Gosh! Samantha, I must bev swalIered it.' 4 4Ye oughtcr seen his eyes when he said it. Ef it had a pizened him then and there, I should have laughed to seen that scart and melancholy look on his face as soon as I reminded him on't. " 'Swallercd it ?' " says I. " 4Ycs, swallercd it. I guess if you had been jounced out of tliaterwagin the way I was, you'd a-swallered ycr tongue, an' I declare 'twould a been a good thing for mc ef ye had.' "Jest as he said that, I looked down the road. What should" I sec a-comin' I but Sam Pease's team, an' if von hnd # > seen Josiah Jones and them feathers a-strcakin' it through that cornfield yonder, you'd a thought the Evil One was at his heels. "As Sam come along up, says he: " 'Why, Mis' Jones, what's the matter? Did ye git spilt out?' " , "'No,'says I, '/li'aint, but ev'rything j else lias.' j "'I should think so,' says he. 'Has j everything gone?'" " 'Yes, eveu to Josiah.' , 44 'Was Mr. Jones with ye?" ' ! "'He was, but he ain't now;' an'I , laughed agin, as I thought how that corn ^ must be feathered out by that time.' j "Can't I help ye to right up things a ^ little?'? " ( " 'No,' says I; 'I guess Josiali'll be , back pretty quick.' j " 'Then he didn't git hurt, did he?'" ^ "'Oh, no! I guess he'll kem out on't t all right,' says I, but I kep' up a terrible j thinkin' all the time, wonderin' how he s was gittin' out on't without me there to help him find his shirt an' things; for i.1. -* T? ** * * * liiu' l vc uvea with that man goin* on twenty-five years, an' alias put his shirt r in the same place, yit lie alias come to 0 me saying: v " 'Samantha, where'3 my shirt?" v I "Wal, Sam lie histed the wagin ^ 'round a little so't he could git by, an' he picked up some o' the things, an' he ^ drove along. By-an'-by I lieerd the bu6h.es a kinder crackin' behind me, an" & I looked 'round, an' there was Josiah v a meacliin' along, peekin' through the P bushes, an' whisperin': 44 'Samantha, is anybody'round there?' ^ " 'No,' says I. " 'What ye 'fraid on? ^ li'aint ye got rigged up yet?' ^ " 'Yes, the best I could. I can't git ^ it all off my hands, nor out o' my hair, an' I don,t want to see nobody till we P get out o' this scrape. For goodness' sake. Samantha. T wi?h vrn.'ri ir . ? j vy V4 v? OtflULUU T some dirt over that paint an' stuff there, so 'twon't look quite so destructive. Sich ol consumed luck, anyway! 'nother time, ^ Samantha, I wish you'd stay to hum I' ^ " 'Good land o' livin! what hev I 8I done? Didn't I tell ye not to take this w road!' " 'Wal, 'nother time, set in the wacrin, 7 1 T then, an1 'not be a-pilin1 out jest fcr a lit- 1 tie hill.' ai "'Jest fer a little hill! I should say 111 so! You'd jest like ter had mo a-wal- ^ lerin' 'round in that mess, too, wouldn't m ye? I tell ye what 'tis, old man, I don't m care to feather my nest in that way.' sa " 'Wal, feather yer nest or not, we a} shall have to work mighty hard to make up this ere loss; an' that ain't all, I'm thinkin' nuther. That jouncin' I got an' 8t the run through the cornfield has shook ar my dinner down, an' I shall be mighty th glad to git hum an' git somethin' t'eat.' "There he was, hen through what he E; had, an' mournin' over all he'd lost, an> in yit the fust thing lie thought on when he pi really come to his senses, was eatin.' nc Wal, we trot hum aforo d?rt on' w > kcepin' Sataday night you never see; vc an' to save our gizzards we couldn't git kr that hoss cleaned off so wo could drive bi him to meetin' Sunday; an' Josiah had sh to stay to hum for the same reason the nc hoss did. w< "Somehow I felt sO tickled all the w< time a-thinkin' o' the scrape that I wa'n't w< in a very go-to-meetin' mood myself; but tai [ thought mebbe 'twould sober mo down qt an' I guess 'twould if it hadn't a ben for the sermon. Ye see, our minister preach- sh sd to young men that Sunday, an' when sh lie says, says he: 'Young men, beware of cu the down-hill road; it leads to destruc- th tion," I thought o' Josiah an' his de- Ai itruction on that road, an* I, snickered trt hhhhHHhHBHbHHKkhHI right out?I couldn't holp it. An* t< ' this day I can't hear them few wordt without fcelin' jcs' so."?Ren a liiverUm Hum Fighting In the Oriont. The Persians have their own peculiai pastimes, and that some of them eorre ' spond very nearly with our own. Strolling down towards the Shah Abbai bazaar in Teheran the same evening aftei tulking with Mr. B ?, my attention ii 1 attracted by a small crowd of Telicraini f of the lower and commercial class con- i gregated in an alley-way, writes Tliomaj J Stevens in Outing. From the excitement i and the dull thud of objccts striking i against each other, it is apparent that t rival owners of fighting rams are permit- 1 ting their champions to strucrcrle for tht ' mastery. * These littlo contests nrouncl quiet cor- 8 ncrs are of almost hourly occurrence, and c a stroll of fifteen minutes about the c streets of the Persian capital^ia impossi- J bio without encountering mild-eyed "sports" leading their pet rams tenderly * along by a string. The necks of the I rams arc encased in broad leathern col- 1 lars, gaily ornamented with beads and r cowries, and from which are suspended 1 amulets to ward off the evil eye, and a i clear-toned bell. This bell, dangling j from the collar and jingling merrily as r he walks along, announces the approach e of a fighting ram and his owner or atten- f dant. Sometimes one meets a proccs- ] sion of several, each one in charge of a I separate attendant; these engage in a a regular tournament for the entertaiument t of his guests. f The fighting rams of Teheran are ol n the big-tailed variety. The breed is i gentleness impersonated, and their con- a tests are comparatively tame perform- c ances. Tho ownnn - ? ..v?w MVV AiUUIJ VU tllV IJ prowess of their respective champions, t wagering anything from a dinner of ba- ? zaar-kabobs to a stake of several tomans; r and plenty of Teherani sports depend c entirely upon their ram for a living. Har- a assed with no hair-splitting niceties noi ii worrying definitions between amateurism v and professionalism, he sallies forth and h fights his ram for the wager of a break, c fast for himself and a feed of barley for o liis pet. h Like knight-errants of old, the Per- f'< sian sport and his fighting ram wander is the street*, seeking battle everywhere, h winning a few kerans to-day and losing 1] them again to-morrow; true soldiers of li fortune these, often having to battle for S] ;lieir breakfast before eating it. Many f< >f the smaller merchants own fijrhtinj; h O O ams, keeping them tied up in front of tl heir shop. When business gets dull, p ;hey send challenges to rival merchants, tl ind fights take place daily, sometimes ^ lurely for amusement and sometimes for t< i wager. b 1,1 ci Base Balls. t( A fair estimate of the number of balls nade for the present season is said to be j >,000,000, or one for every ten of the popilation of the entire country. The hard inyielding base balls that are now used ; ?y professional ballplayers are very dif- m erent articles from those which were in CJ ogue a quarter of a century ago. In act they differ as greatly as the present w ame of base ball does from that which ^ ras played in those days. "Dead" or Ta rofessional base balls are made entirely ^ y hand. According to rules laid down o) y the league they must weigh within ve and a quarter ounces. A little rub- st er ball, weighing two ounces, is used as S1 le foundation for r.wn nnnom ? WW vy4. *1 WW1UII Jjj am that is wound around the ball, and ^ prmits of it coming within the rcgula- ai on size, weight and shape. The limit jf t size is nine inches in circumference. ja he yarn used makes the circumference F the ball considerably more than lis, but it is corrected by undergoing a le ammering process, after which the little jheres are turned over to the coverers, ar ho invest them with a casing of horse 8i ide, sewn with linen thread. Non-pro- w ssional balls are made by machinery. o show the difference in the speed, care id cost of manufacture of base balls it ai ay be stated that a certain factorv near ~ lit cw York can turn out 48,000 machineade balls in a day, while the limit of m anufacture for "dead" balls in the ja me time is eighteen."?New York Maw |)( id Express. _____ tr Small Arts. N It is quite -wonderful to think how rangely forgotten and lost the small ts are in England. In some countries ar ie very children can carve in wood, in ?* hers they can make artistic pottery; in p*1 ajypt they embroider, inlay, and work :m jewelry; but in this country our peo- iCI 0 can do nothing, and havo learned A >thing outside their trado. The agriiltural laborer, it is true, possesses a *r iry considerable and varied amount of -cn lowledge?he is skilled in many ways; [P1 it the mechanic, the factory hand, the jar opman, knows nothing and can do i1? thing outside his trade, and, which is arse, he considers every kind of handi* >rk as a trade in itself, to learn which re mid be leamihg another craft, after m king all the trouble in the world to aclirc one. Shall he who has learned to make ch oes also learn to make cabinets? And, all tho goldsmith also become a stone-' ttcr? And is the evening as well as o solid day to bo given up to labor?! dc id is it right to invade another man's rei ide territory??Art Journal. j a ] a >. "jjj ' .. .. . . v y/psk: THE WILY MUSKRAT. How the Little Animal is Trapped, by Night. The Muskrat's Haunts and Habits, and Use to Which His Skin is Put Mauy a young lady who moves arountl n the pround possession of a presumed sen'skin cap or muff is very grievously nistaken. The articles in question, in line cases out of ten, never saw Alaska n any form. New Jersey or Maryland urnished the material to make them, for he hide of the despised and humble nuskrat, when dressed by skillful hands, nakes the best imitation of sealskins, an mitation so close, that the true is only upiiraica lrom the false after the most ;areful examination. It is an equally igrcgious error to imagine that the New rerscy fisherman becomes dormant in vinter time. On the contrary, he is vidcawake and occupies his time trap)ing muskrats. The salt marshes on the inc of the Jersey coast are full of muskats, and the supply seems to be inexlaustable. Muskrats arc naturally herbvorous. They feed on land and water >lants alike, in some instances using oots, stems and fruit. They are noted nemies of the "bottom ground" farmer, or it is in his fields that corn grows most >lentiful, and on that cereal muskrats ove to feed. They cat corn at any time fter it is planted, taking the seed from he ground or the young plant from the urrow. The greatest damage is done .fter the ear is well formed. Their food 3 not entirely vegetable, for in winter nd early spring they subsist to a great xtent on tlie flesh of river mussels. The nuskrat does not come out of his lair in he daytime, save on rare occasions. Sometimes on very dark cloudy days lie nay be seen swimming across the pond >r down the stream with his head just bove water. It is an ugly vicious looktig animal with white claws and long' irliite teeth. lie is a fair swimmer and1 Lis capacity for staying under water is xtraordinary. 11 is home, if the stream r pond has a high bank, is a little holjw place under srround. five or siv fnot rom the water's edge, and the entrance i under water. The hallway, after it as penetrated the bank, curves gradual IT upward, and at its end, in his snug ttle subterranean chamber, the muskrat pends his day sleeping or in storing away 3od for winter. It makes the trapper appy when he finds the entrances to tiese houses. When he finds ono lie laces his trap just in the entrance. If tie rat is caught he will probably drown, s the weight of the trap and his efforts "> escape will tire him, and he will sink elow water. A favorite method of i&liing the muskrat in his own house is > cut off the top of his domicile and ury the trap in the centre of his mossy cd. The box trap is the favorite one h- streams, as it is easily made, and sevrnl rats arc often captured in a single ight. It consists of a long straight box, lade with entrances at both ends large lough to admit a muskrat easily. In le ends are fixed gates made of stout ire, slanting toward the inside of the [>x which can be lifted up easily by the it going in but cannot be opened outardly. The box is sunk in the middle f a stream and securely anchored by big ones being placed on its top. Then akes are driven from the box to each de of the stream. The muskmf. tinrta is way barred by the stakes, swims into le trap, discovers lie cannot get out, id drowns. The mnskrat is no coward. he is taken on dry ground and the ws of the trap have caught his leg prct' well down near the toe, the rat not iing able to pull away will gnaw oil his g just above where the trap holds it. rhen found alive he lights desperately id requires many a blow on the head to lence him. When there is no other ay of escape, he makes a dash at the apper's leg, and if he once catches hold, s sharp white teeth sink into the bone id lii3 strong jaws cling to the unfortuitc hunter with the tenacity of a bull3g. The great trapping grounds for the uskrat, however, arc along the lownds of Dorchester cCiunty, Maryland, irdering Fishing Bay and its numerous ibutaries. csncp.inllv t.Vin T^ln#>ir?ro+o.- ?-l , E 'J ?" iUlU ausquakin rivers. These marshes em- , ace portions of Lakes, Straits, Draw idge and Bucktown districts, and in , ea cover thousands of acres. The fur ( the muskrat, which is of two kinds, own and black, the black being the ost valuable, is sold to traveling deal's lor twelve to eighteen cents per skin, bout 75,000 skins have been sold in orchester county this season, and the o<:n K.? Bjjpuio IIIU aim UII3J. out no stripling ] ,n hope to embark in the muskrat-trapng business for it is one of hardship id exposure, and the returns are small deed.?New York Mail and Express. , He Wanted a Remnant. "I understand you are offering some mnants for sale," said an Arkansaw an to a dry goods clerk. 1 "Yes, sir, we have some choice rem- * mts, which we. arc offering very icap." < "Wal, I want a remnant for my dog.M "For your dog?" 1 "Yns, you see, some feller's cut my ?g'8 tail off, an' I thought eff yer had a y mnant of a yaller bull dog I mout find * piece 'at'd fit."?OoodaWt Sun. c ilr ' Cattle Stampedes, "It is surprising," says Mr. John E Sullivan, "what a trilling tiling wi start a stampede that may cost man lives and the loss of hundreds of cattl before it can bo controlled. I was com ing up the Texas trail once with a part of other cowboys. "We had 4,000 cattl in the bunch. One of the boys opeue his tobacco-pouch to get a chew. Th wind blew a shred or two of the line cu out of his fingers. The tobacco floatet away and lodged in a steer's eye. In moment the eye began to smart, and th I steer got wild. Its antics started others and in ten seconds the whole herd wa surging and dashing about, out of al control. It was two days before wo go the herd working quietly again. Tw of our best boys were trampled to death and 4,000 cattle were lost. "Ilail-storms are greatly dreaded b; cowboys on the trail, especially if the come at night when the cattle are sleep ing. If a hailstone happens to strike ; steer in the eye a stampede is sure t< follow. lie springs to his feet, and ii thrashing around tramps on the tails o others. They jump in pain. The hcr< is alarmed, and before anything can b done the whole herd are oil like a flash The bark of a coyote, when cverythinj is still at night, is sufficient to stampcdi a herd. A blade of grass, blown alonj by the wind, frequently strikes a steer ii the eye. The pain that follows will se him wild, and he can soon have the hen on the run across country at a twenty mile an hour gate. "It is during stampedes the cowboy has work to do. His one great object i: to keep the flying herd together. II urges his mustang dead itgainst the ad vancing column of frantic cattle at th< constant risk of his life, and works th< cattle gradually in a circle. The cow boys all ride to the right around a stain pccung nerd. If they can get the cattli to running in a circle, the first impor tant step in controlling them is accom plislied. I have been with a party in t stampede when we were obliged to rid( around a herd for a distance of over 20( miles before we got it under control, anc then it was only twenty-five miles fron where the stampede started. In all that time not one of us took a moment's resi or a bite to cat. Such things can't b< thought of during a stampede." Ear-Lore. Cutting off the ears was among th< Romans the common punishment o: thieves, pillagers of temples, fugitive; and slaves, a survival of which was to b< traced in the English mode ofloppinr off the ears of public offenders whilst standing in the pillory down to compara tively recent times. Another Romar practice was the pulling of witnesses ears in a court of law as a reminder ol the gravity of their situation when vacillating or hesitating in their evidence, Children's ears were likewise wont to be pulled or soundly "boxed" by their mas ters. Another custom wus the wholesale stuffing up of the ears of offending gentlewomen in time of war. This was essentially of Roman origin, first brought under British notice by the followers of Julius Cajser; and thenceforth frequently perpetrated by the soldiery, particularly during the English subjugation of Wales, until it in due time gave way to less sportive and infinitely more barbaric practices. Time-honored though these several observances may appear, they must nevertheless be regarded as modern side by side with one that carries us back to the primitive periods of Jewish history. This was the boring of the ear ui every siave wno, nis term ot servitude having expired (six years), yet declined to claim his freedom, preferring to remain with his lord and family for an indefinite period. In such a case his master was bound to take him to the door-post, and there bore his ear with an awl, as a sign of his voluntary attachment to that house.?Boston Bud/jet. A Desperate More. "John," she said to the young man who had been courting her for five long years; "John, I sat for my photograph to-day. I suppose yon want one?" "Oh, yes, indeed." "By the way, John, I had them taken especially for some friends in California, and they want my authograph on the cards. Now, John,I don't know whether to sign my maiden name, or wait a few months until after I am married. I suppose you do intend to get married in a few months; don't you, John." It was a desperate move, but she won, and in two months both will be made one.?Philadelphia Herald. Not Higli Enough for That. "Oh, papa," exclaimed a little boy pas? senger with his face to the window, "what i great high hill that is!" "Yes, my son, said the man, with a areary look in his face and crape on his tiat, "it is very high. That is a moun* tain, Arthur." "Shall we get off the cars and go and ;limb up the high mountain, papa?" "Oh, no; why should we do that, Arthur?" ' j " 'Cause, pa, I didn't know but maybe we might climb to the top and then look ip and seo mamma. Do you think we ouldl"?Chicago Herald. t ; - ' RANCH HUNTING. t. 11 Incidents of Out-Door Life In y the Far West, o l" Description of the Outfit Used on a Htint' ing Expedition. ^ A hunting expedition from the ranch 0 needs but scant preparation, because all of our business is carried on in the open * air, and our whole outfit is such as is 11 best suited for an outdoor life. After 0 cattle the most conspicious adjuncts of a '? cow ranch are horses. Everything is s done and almost all of each day is spent * in the saddle. The horses run freo in a band, which is driven to the corral every ? day or to, when the animals needed at > the moment are roped (no plainsman, by the way, even on any occasion uses the y word lasso; in its place he uses the verb y to rope; it is a sure sign of being a "ten" dcrfoot" to use the former), and the rest ft of the band again turned loose. Every 5 day some rider goes out amonej tho 1 neighboring cattle; and from May to ^ November most of the hands are away I from the ranch house on the different ' ? round ups. For a short expedition only three or four men may go, taking a pack ? outfit; that is, each man taking a spore e horse, on which his bedding, food and 5 the indispensable branding irons are 1 packed. On a longer trip a wagon is needed. The regular plains wagon is ^ perforce a stout, rather heavy affair, or it - would not stand the rough usage to which it is exposed. It needs a team of 7 at least four horses to handle it properly, s can carry a very large load, and, with 2 its hooped canvas top, offers a good - shelter to a small number of men in the 2 event of a sudden night storm of rain. J This is the wagon we take when going - on a trip of any duration, but for quick, - light work we use the buckboard. This a will carry a couple of men and their - traps in good style, can go almost overy where, and, moreover, can travel nearly i as fast as a man on horseback, i A pair can drag a buckboard perfectly, > aunougn it merely going up to a neighl boring ranch or to some definite point, l we often put on a team of four, which, t bowl us along over the praise at a great t rate?trotting or galloping. The stock 3 saddles used throughout the cow country are admirably suited for a hunting trip as they have pockets in which various articles can be stowed and things can be i tied on them almost everywhere, thanks ^ to the rawhide strings with which they 3 are plentifully provided. Thus a couple 3 of antelope, or a brace of young deer, or ' a big buck can be carried behind the sad' die with perfect ease. Both ranch men and cow boys habitually spend their days * in the very costume in which they hunt? broad hat, flannel shirt, trousers tucked into top boots. In Winter the biting gales render it necessary to take to fur caps and coats, great mittens and the 5 warmest wool lined shoes. Leathern overalls, or "shaps" (the cow boy abbreviation for the Spanish word chaparr.jos) are very useful when riding through w UV4UO VA wv ACC p UUb l/JLIU TVClt 1 HO same blankets and bedding that are taken on a round up of course do for a bunting expedition. Though we have a tent, we do not often use it, shielding ourselves from wet weather by sleeping under 1 the canvas wagon sheet. The cooking : utensils need not be very numerous?a 1 kettle and a frying pan, a Dutch oven, so called, and a half dozen tin plates and 1 cups, with knives and forks, make up 1 the not over extensive assortment. Flour, bacon, salt, sugar, and tea or coffee are the only provisions that need be taken along. Of course I am now speaking merely of short trips made from the ranch. If we make longer ones, such as an expedition after bear and elk to the Big Horn mountains, which would take a couple of months, we would need tc makfi miiph mnrn nmnln ? ?w.w U?uj^/4U |/iu|/?iawiV7UO.?" Outing. Why Steam Boilers Explode. A boiler explodes because it is not able to withstand the pressure to which it is at the time subjected. This condition of weakness may be caused by any one oi a number of causes, as follows: 1. Bad design, as when the boiler has not been properly strengthened by stays and braces; or a deficient water space prevents the proper circulation of the water. 2. Bad workmanship, the riveting 01 other workmanship having been done i hastily, or by incompetent workmen. 8. Bad material, blisters in the plate, etc. Excessive pressure, caused by recklessnes? of the engineer, or by defective steam gauges or inoperative safety valve. 5. Overheating of the plates, caused by carelessness of the engineer in allowing the water supply to cet low and th?n pumping in upon the too greatly heated plates. 0. Accumulation of scple, mud, or other deposit, which prevents the water gaining access to the iron. Thii causes the seams to leak and the crown sheet to bulge or come down, and whes this occurs the boiler is in a very danger* ous condition, liable to oxplode at anj time. There is really no mystery about boiler explosions; they aro always caused by one or more of the above causes. U J all boilers were of good design. workman* ship and material, and -wore managed bj none but sober, intelligent and experienced engineers, such a thing a*, a boilet explosion would be almoat unknown.? Inter- Ocecau v . fiir