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EE*1 THANKSGIVING. n t The grain is garnered in, v The apples ripe are stored, s The yellow pumpkins gleam among, 1; The farmer's treasured hoard. v The earth if brown and bare, j( That once was green and gay; a "Where regal Autumn charmed the eye, t Dead leaves bestrew the way. h Though clouds be dark o'erheai, ' With wind and uDshel rain, The good that once has crowned the earth, ^ Will make it bloom again. 0 Then let us thank our God 0 Eor spring-time soft and fair? a For April rain and May-day sun And June's delicious air, ' For July showers and heat, ^ For dreamy August haze. 1 For cool September's purple fields, h For glad October's days. v For dull November skies, t] And barns with harvest filled. We thank Thee, Lord, who richly blessed s The land Thy servants tilled. a The year to come is Thine, Thou knowest what will be; ^ Bend rain and dew, and wind and sun, As seemeth best to Thee. ?-466tc F. Judd. y ? v Grandma's Wedding Gown. \ i A THANKSGIVING SKETCn. 1 It wa- several years ago that we of the l ?ldred family, both old and young, were | invited to spend Thanksgiving Day at v the old homestead, away up in the lake o region of Wi stern Maine. * ih The invitation was accepted promptly, 1 d and with pleasant anticipations, that were , a heightened by the fact that we were not only biddeq to the fi-stivisie* of Thanks- J b giving, but also to celebrate Grandma e, Eld red's seventy-fifth birthday, which n hapi ened to fall that year upsn the an- ' c buhI h liday. To grandmother's room, we young b folks all turned upon our arrival, sitting ii there do ing and dreaming before the c great fire place, under the drowsy influ- j o ence of our long, cold ride. t< Ti.e sharp t ip of grandma's cane, and o loft thread of her list shoes a> she g trudged across the floor, soon aroused us n from our revoiies. tl "Grandma, why are you so choice of h that blue wool quilt:" asked Netty Ful- j ler, as the oi l lady carefully spread a d large newspaper over a portion of the sr bea on which the afternoon sun was shin- c! r; ing b. ightlv. h "Be au-e, child, it was once my wed- w ding gown," sail grandma, smiling h' cheerily. "It was homespun, yet 1 h thorght it very fine looking at the time, e though it was not quite so attractive to tl nv trirlish ?vna as tha nnn T had first 1 made lor the occasion." w "But wh it became of the first one?" ni inquired Susie < arlaud. n "Tell us abjut it, grandma!" cried h cousin Katy. "Was it silk or stain, and m did nnv guilty, unprincipled rival: any I unlucky maiden overcome by envy, steal a it out of spite?" tc ' It was neither silk i:or satin, and it ff ura'-n't stolen-at least, not in that way; ir and I got itafteiwasd, and wore it out." tl "Do tell us what happened to it, b grandmi!"we all urged. it "Well, it was nearly sixty-one years m go, my dears, that I wr.s married to your tl grandpa?it was in 1310, the year when we had no summer. Some people thought d r.v * the cold weather was a bad sign, and c< tried to have us put oT the wedding; but ai I did not have fa th in signs, neither did your grandfather. So we very trankly ci told them that we did not believe our ; intentions'had upset the weather, and y v we should therefore be married at the <r time set.? "IJut wasn't there-any summer that year?"' nske I !*usie. n 4'It could scarcely be called summer, for , ] there were frost and icc every month, in ^ \he year. May came in with snowstorms, c there was ice an inch thick. The v rtanting was put oil till the la?tof May. tl Then about iho mkldle of June snow a came to the depth of seven inches, and killed all the corn that had sprouted, n and nearly everything else that had been n planted. 8i "Such cold weather had never been b known in any s ;mmer before. Some folks were afr.iid that the sun was cool- ti ing off. There was a good deal of anx- n iety felt among the fearsome ones on that 8 account. Winter clothes were worn through the summer, and so late as the g 1st of July there were days when the men and boys went about theif work ji with overcoats and mittens on. 1 0 "Father sheared his sheep as usual, and turned them out to pasture; but during the month of June nearly half of them ? died, and scarcely a lamb was raised. All the fruit was killed, and it seemed a v time of general destruction. ' f; "July and August were both cold n month-?, and those farmers who had re- h planted their rorn aft-.r the big sqdw- 0 storm saw it destroyed by the frosts. In .f -j. 1.. -11 , lUUl lit'Ui iv Uii iuc V.VI1I j/:ati(.v.vA uinb g year xcas unfit for use except for fodder. X\ "Squire Hobson,our nearest neighbor, who had several acres of burnt hind t planted in < orn, set large'fires about it t on the edge of the woods every cold n aight, and the heat and smoke seemed to k- epoff the frost in a measure. Mirny t ft night we young folki in the neighborhood gathered about that clearing iu t!ie s woods to watch the fires and cat roasted n ears. The squire had the only corn that t was raised in the whole town, and the -v next spring fa-mers for miles around B came to him for seed, and paid him at c the rate of five dollars a bushel for it. t You may be sure there weren't m.ny c Johnny-cakes that year. ^ "Well, on account of this failure of r the crops father felt poor, and I saw that if I had a wedding-gown I must earn it. t Squire Hobson's wife always hired In lp s 'il J T 4. 1 -1- /A . Ill XilC summer, anu i went iu wurti iur her at fo :r-and-sixpence a week.* That was seventy-live cents and you ran tell as well as I -what girls would think of *uch wages tow!" : "Why, grandma, they could scarcely get their neckties with that!" laughed Kate. j 'But it was considi red gocd pay in those times,'' said grandma. "Mother had provided me with woo! and fax, and I had spun and wove all the linen I needed for household purposes, and wool cloth for blankets, b'o I wanted onlv my dre-s, 1 and when father went to Wilton, lat.> m October, with his poultry and butter, I j ?ent and got the material for it, and I w! at do you think it wa3??a bright ' blue bomlazine! t "Now, I suppose, girls, you think that 1 pretty poor material for a wedding 1 dress; but I had teen used to nothing i better than coarse, home made garments, t and bombazine seemed to me the hand- < iome<t material that could be desired; ; 1 good enough for a queen. It had gcost , 1 < -i j u ? ?e I, BO mucn, anu seemeu auuu n pictc ui > travagance for poor folks, that I couldn't < hire the village dressmaker to fit the'.< dress: so the squite's wife, who had been 1 fttailoress in her younger days, helped i me make it. i "I used to sew on it after I had got I ay day's work done, by the light of the ?ig fire and one tallow candle, and those rere very happy, hopeful hours that I pent in the old kitchen, stitching slower at its sccm9, long after the family cere all in bed. >vcn, me iasc sincn was sec at jngtli, and the dress was hung carefully way, with its da'nty linen lace ruffles liat I had spun and knitted myself. It icked only one week to Thanklgiving, lie time set to wear the blue bomba/.ine, nd I was to go home the next day. "I ought to have said that the squire rasoneof the oversee: s of the poor in ur town, and as there was no almshouse, [ nee a year the town's poor were set up ud bid oil to board by the people at own meetins. Those who would board hem cheapest got the paupers. "Well, there wjs one boy?Davy Vhitney?that no one would bid for Everybody knew him, and nobody would lavebim at any pri< e; so Squire Hobson ras obliged to take him into his own amiiy. He was a poor half-wit?sly, aischievousand revengeful. "From the lir t he seemed to have a pite against me, and would watch me t work, from behind a door, with eyes hat had mischief in them. Oncc he vaited his opportunity, and shut me lown cellar, when the whole family were ,way, and wouldn't let me up, with all ay coaxings and entreat'os. Then he >egan to fill the great fire place with vood and brush?he always had ft great >assion for fires?aud I was nearly disractcd down there in the dark, from tearing him dancing and whooping over ay head, and the fire crackling and roarng in the chimney. I was sure he would turn the house down. "He did come pretty near it, too, for rhen the Squire's folk-got home, a heap f birch bark and brush which Davy ad brought into the kitchen and thrown own near the hearth, had caught fire nd was all in a blaze. "He tormented the Squire's wife, too, eyond all endurance, sucking the hen's ggs. eating the cream of! the crocks of lilk, and dgging great holes into her heeses. "Well, Davy kept his eves on my bomazine dress, wheneverhe saw me workig on it, and would sit in the chimneyoraer nrnr me, smoothing his hands ver its soft, shining folds ar.d talking ) it in his broken way, as he had a habit f doing to anything that pleased him reatly. It did not o:cur to me that he le.int mischief; but wh^n I went to get le dress the next day, when I wa3 going omc, it was gone. "Well, girls, I can never tell you how isappointed I was. It makes roe feel :d even now, after all these years. It i e into my mind at once that Davy ad had a hand in its disappearance, but hen he was called up before the squire e seemed to know nothing about it. The ouse was searched, high and low, and ren the barn and granary, but not a irea 1 of J he bomba'.itie could be found. "Nothing more could be done, and I ent home dreadfully down-hearted,you lay be sure. To think that I had drudged ' arly all summer for this one gown, to five it snatched from me at the very last loment, was too much, and I am afraid hated the poor simple-m nded boy with bitterness that took me many a month > ?*ct over.. Some of the superstitious >lks looked upon this as a second w.irnig against my marrying your grandpa lut year, telling me that ill-luck would e sure to follow us: and others thought was the work of Providence,humbling iy giddy vanity in trying to outshine ic neighbors' girls. ' -I ? ?xi.i However, tnerc was nouunjj eiie iu o but to swallow my pride, as best I mill, and set out the old hand-cards ad wheel and go to work." "What! Did you g ve it up, after all?" :ied Susie. "Give it up!" said grandma. "Bles ou no, child! Your grandma had a ood deal of spirit in those days. I had o time to waste in mourning over the >s? of ray gown, but went to work to lake another. And I had to begin with lie wool as it was shorn, too. First it ad to be carded, then spun, and then ulored. before it could be woven. It as discouraging work, and I will own liat a good many tears fell into the warp nd w-of of th.it homespun dress. "Hut you must undeistand that it did ot take so muc h to make gowns then as ow, for they were very plain and traight. If it had. my task would have een a hopeless one indeed. "So, by me.ins of hard work and sitins up nights, mo her and 1 finished If u'?) r>tvsscd ofF. " " " a "*?- o"" ? i > | bininx and smooth, witli the squire's | ,'ife's big goose, the night before Thanksiving." "Bravo, grandma!" cried her auditors, a chorus, chcuring the old lady hilariuslv. "And the wedding came off?" "Certainly, my dears." "But where was the unfortunate bom>a7ine a'l this time?" inquired Kate. "Well, nothing was seen of it that rintcr, nor the next summer. In the all S iuiro llobson's boys were out one j ight in the woods about the clearing, mnting for 'coons, that were doin" a ;ood deal of damage to the corn that nil, and they chased a big one into a 1 lead bejeh and saW him pop into a hole J p among the limbs. ' "Hurrying for an axe, they felled the J ree. and there, stored snugly away with ho <or>n at the bottom of the hole, was j ny bombazine gown!" | 'But the 'coon didn't carry it up ' here?" cried Hetty, in astonishment. I "Oh, dear no," said grandma. "We upposed that Davy stole into my chamber nd carried it off while I was getting LAnUfnef fVtnf loef m nrni n cr nnrl nftor- I irard forgot where he had hid it. It was icarly spoiled with mildew, ani was o ered with dirt and frmut from the rampings of the 'coon's feet; but it had rost tno much to he thrown away, so I vashed and pressed it, and it really did nc considerable service. "But after all, my dears, it didn't mater so much, for your grandpa used to ay that he never could have thought ialf so much of the bombazine as he aid >f the homespun dres* I was married in. ie always liked a plain dress?neat and idy, you know, but without any of the lounces and extra trimming they put >n nowadays. "Ami I guess that's about the way vith mon in general?at least with the lensible ones?they look more to the one hat wears the dross than they do at the Iress itself. It won't make so very much lifference, my dears, what your dresses ire, if you only have pleasant ways and cind hearts."?Ciriitine Stephen*. When to Eat Fruit. The real place for fruit is at the beginning of a feast, and not at the end. A ?* ? 4 5 I I ?" a mnu 1 r\t ,)('U(Jr JHilll SUll J3 LU iu?ag a ait,<u vi jread and ripe fruit. The bent meals to iiake thus are breakfast, lunch, or early ea. The bread should be brown and Iry, and the fruit ripe and raw. Dry jrown bread cleans the tongue and brings out the flavor of the fruit. Butter >n the bread would give its own flavor, ?r even the salt in the butter would destroy the pure taste of the fruit. Again, ;he fruit should be raw if possible, as nany delicious odors and delicate flavors ire lost in the cooking.?Chicago Trinme. BUDGET OF FUN. -Is X HUMOROUS SKETCHES FROM ? VARIOUS SOURCES. P No Possible Hope?A Gentle Hint? Not a Manufactory?How George h Was Captured ? A Sweet lieart'9 Ingenuity, Etc. w At night upon the porch roof, flat, The feliues make a clatter, Tho sleepless boarder yells out "scat!" And they?don't scatter. 8( And then he throws out a brick bat, 81 But It don't r atter, And wheu he shies out the door mat It?doesn't matter; And then he gets a great big gun, Well filled w.th shot and powder, t] And fires; but they do not run, y They lie there and yell louder. ?Detroit Free Press. ^ A Gentlo Hint. He had been courting her a long time, 1 so long that she began tc get tired; so one night she said to him: "John, who is nuthor of the phrase, ,j ".Man proposes?" "i'xn sure I do not know," answered i John. 4-Why do you ask?" * "Oh! I merely wanted to know who ? he was." ? "For what reason." "Because I gue s he didn't know what he was talking about." Five minutes later the wedding day was set.?Bos'on Courier. si Not a Manufactory. c A stranger who had, upon arriving in P Little Kock, met a friend, was walking * along the street with him. ?' "This seems to be a pretty lively town," said the stranger. 'It appears rather dull to me," the n friend replied. "I don't see low it can be when your * manufactories run full blast at night." ".My dear fellow, there are no manufactories running.n "What, don't you hear the noise of J"' that boiler factory over therer" 11 "That's no boiler factory." s< "Well, what makes that awful clamor ?" P. "A performance at the Opera House. 81 Look, see that fellow tumble out!" a "Yes: what's the matter;" 11 "Nothing, only the gallery boys have " it- Is ... J. 1.:.. I! A.. It inrown me ponceuiau uu??uaiang. ?at" kansaw Traveler. n a How George Was Cnptured. "You look very much excited, dear," ^ he said, when she entered t?e parlor where he wa3 waiting for her. "Well, I should think I ought to look j ?' cxcitcd,'' she answered. "I've just had j , the most awful argument with ma." i And she began to weep hysterically. "Why, what is the mutter, my dar-1 ling?" he inquired, as he slid his arm i J around her waist and endeavored to | soothe her; "whHt was the arguraeutj" "Oh, how can I tell you? She said | . you were only trilling with me, and that you would never pop the question; and ! I told her she d d you a great injustice, ! for I believed that you would pop the I question to night. She said you! . wouldn't and I said you would, and we j J, had it hot and heavy. Dear George, you I will not let ma triumph over me, will you?" "Wh?hy, certainly not," answered George. "I knew it, my darling!" the dear girl o exclaimed; "come let us go to ma and o tell her how much mistaken she was!" b And they did, and ma didn't seem to ! e be so very much broken down over the j C allair after all. ?Boston Courier. 1< <J A Sweetheart's Ingenuity. r "A minister who used to live herein J the town of l'erry,'' said he, "was once i J visited by another minister on a Sunday, ! ? so he killed two ducks and ordered his J1 h red girl to dress and cook them for dinner. Tlie girl did as she was told, but while s, the ducks were roasting, her beau came aud made her a call, lieing hungry and P tempted by the smell of the sizzling fowl v he sei/ed one of the ducks and ate it. "The girl was driven to her wits end J by tlus unlucky incident. She was rather | f1 giad her beau had such a nice dinner, j ? but des; aired of finding an excuse to tell j the minister?let's C:ill him Mr. Brown? | n to account for the missing duck. When Y .Minister Brown came home to dinner a with visiting Minister Jones, the girl had hit upon a schcme. She asked her em- * plover to go out to the grindstone which 0 stood in tliojard and sharpen the carving i D knife. 11c went to work on the knife at J ? once, being hungry for those ducks. The i 5 girl stole upstairs and asked the visiting v minister to look out of the window. D " vee the e!' said she. 'I came up to I give you warning. You little know the a danger you're in. The man I work for c I is crazy, and he is sharpening that knife * : to cut your throat.' "The girl succeeded in thoroughly arousing the visitor, and he hastily put on his hat and ran as fast as his legs could 0 take him. c "When he had ran several roads, the * girl called her master and asked him ' what kind of a man he had brought * home to dinner. The minister inquired ^ J why she a-ked, when, pointing to the fiy- s | ing brother, the girl exclaimcd: 'There ! * he goes, running away with one of your * ducks!"'?Lc teuton {Me.) Journal, r ' 8 Something He Forgot. c When Mr. Jenkins went to his bed- a room at half-past one, it was with the j ^ determ nation of going to sleep,and with ^ another determination that he would not n be interviewed by .Mr^. .'enkins. So, as c j soon as he had entered the door,and de- J posited his lamp upon the dressing-table, ' J he commented his speech: 4,I locked the front door. 1 put tne ^ chain on. I pulled the key out a little ? bit. The dog is inside. I put the kit- 1 ten out. 1 emptied the drip-pan o-f the a refrigerator, 'i'as cook took the silver c to bed wiih her. I put a cane unflerthe 11 knob of the back-hall door. I put the r fastenings over the bath-room windows. n The parlor tire has coal on. 1 put the u cake-box back in the closet. I did not 1 drink all the milk. It i* not going to 11 rain. Nobody gave me any mes age for e you. I mailed your letters as soon ai I f got down-town. Your mother did not r call at the office. Nobody died that we ? are interested in. Did not hear of a ' I marriage or engagement. I was very I I busy at the office making out bills. I J ! have hung my clothes over chair-backs * I want a new egg for breakfast. I think 1 that is all, and I will now put out the [ light." ' Yr. Jenkins felt that he had hedged against all inquiry, and a triumphant vmiht wnq unnit his face as he took hold of the gas-check, and sighted a line for ] the bed, when he was ea:thqunked by a 1 ringing laugh, and the query from Mrs. 1 Jenkins: < "Why didn't you take off your hat?" 1 ?Puck. I Taken In. 1 A saloonkeeper up Gratiot street sat ] at his door the other afternoon wonder- ] ing why it was that so many m-.-n in 1 Detroit preferred buttermilk to beer, j when two strangers came along. One i of them placed a penny on the sidewalk, laced his ripht heel on the penny, and aen bent over to see how far he could jach and mark the f'agstone with a ail. As he reached out he lifted his eel off the penny, and the other man icked up title coin, slipped it into his ocket and winked at the saloonist. "That.s a long reach," said No. 1, as e straightened up. "Yes, but you lifted your heel off the cat." 'No, I didn't." "Ret you a dollar!" "I'll take it:" "Hold on, shcntlemens," said thfc beer jller, as he rose up; "I like to make oaie bets myself." "I'll bet you my heel is on a penny," li d No. 1. "I take dot bet awful queek," replied b.2 saloonist. and a couple of $2 bills rore handed to No. 2. No. 1 sat down on the walk, pulled off h shoe and held it up that the salooneeper mi^ht see a penny screwed fast a the heel. He replaced his shoe after moment, rose up and bowed courtously, and the pair walked off. Thev re re at least half a block away before tie v.'ctim recovered sufficiently to say: "Vhell! Vhell! I pays tuxes in two rards und goes twice to Chicago, but ct I vhas some lunatics who ougnt to e led around mit a rope!"?Detroit Fret 'ress. m Ah Odd Meiital Power. A Princess Anne (Md.) letter to the laltimore A7nericansays: John Harri3n, who resides at Deal's Island, in this ounty, about twenty years of age, is ossessed of wonderful mental powers. !e is a dredger, and says he only atlendd school ubOLit two months altogether l his life. This great power consists in is ability to spell backward any word, o matter how long or intricate, that he an spell forward, or that is spelled forrard in his presence, and that, too, with toiAi-ifr The American I aw www J . _ orrcspondent, hearing of this won Serai power, met him on Deal's Island, and j^uested him to give an exhibition of i? strange talent, which he readily ron3iited to do. Such words as "im:oru atibility," "incongruous," "irreprehenibilitv," "Cincinnati," "Philadelphia," nd many other long words -were spelled 1 his presence, which he immediately pelled backward with lightning rapid- , ,y and without the least hesitation. He ever fails, but always spells the words orrectly backward as they a:e sp:-lled ) him forward, and if he ever spell;! the rord incorrectly, no matter how lo::g it e, it is always the fault of the questionr. Any word that he is familiar with ad can spell forward he can also Bpell ackward, and words that he is no! imiiiar with and cannot spell forw ard, e can spell backward when they are pelled in his pre3enc?. He does not pell the words backward by the sound, ecause in many instances the letters lake no sound. He says that he does oteven carry the word in his mind as it i spelled forward and cannot explain by rhat means he is enabled to do it. He iys he first showed signs of this wordcrll talent while he was going to school le short time that he attended by spelllg backward the words propounded by ie teacher, much to the amusemer.t of le teacher and the other scholars. The Smallest Kingdom. On the northeast coast of the island f Sardinia lies the much smaller island f Tuvolara, five miles long ai:d one road. Its possession and ab-olute sovreignty were formally granted by Iving Jhai les Albert, of Sardinia, to theBartojoni family, and for more than half a eutury Paul I., King of Tavclara. eigned over it in peace. On the 30th of lay last King Paul was compelled iogo o tho mainland to seek treatment for eait disease. Finding that science was owerless in his case the King returned o his island to die in the midst o : his ubiects, who are forty in number. He ied sitting in his chair, like the Emeror Vespasian, vainly endeavorirg to rrite a will. He wns seventy-eight years old. The orty subjects of Re Paolo,as they called lim, lost in him a benevolent and ir.dusrious monarch; his family lost a kindfaher, and the wild goats of the island, lore numerous than his subjects, lost? re will not say they mourn the loss of? n intrepid hu iter. Tavolara is a smaller State than even he Republic of San Marino, lying cast if I tally, which has twenty-two s p:are ailes and 8,090 people; the principality if Monaco, on the French coast of the lediterranean near the Italian frontier, rhich has eight and one-half square ailes and5,500 inhabitants; or the Ke?ublic of A ndorra, lying between France nd Spain, wh ch is GOO square miles in xtent anu has 7,000 people.? Youth's Companion. Sparrows Kill a Cat. There was a desperate battle the other lay in Galena, III , between a big torn at and a numerous family of sparrows hat had taken refuge in a crab apple ree in the ba k yard of the First Presbyerian parsonage, and whose home had ?een invaded by the cat. The latter had tealthily crawled up the side of the ree, and was perched upon a lower imb, watching for an opportunity to ake in an unsuspecting sparrow, when uddenly the entire flock of birds flew iut of the tree and encircled it, making , chirping noise so loud nnd e citing ns o be heard all over the neighborhood. Lftcr flying about the tree for a moment, half dozen or more birds flew at the at like lightning, and drove their siarp tointed. though *ho t bills into its body. The animal uttered a howl of pain, but vas finally pmnced upon by other kirinishers of the bird army, and pecked o unmercifully thnt it was compelled to et go.its hold on the limb of the tree, nd dropped to the ground. Before it ould regain its foet for the purpose of nuking its cscape. a hundred nngry ?parows dove at the animal, picking it bout t ie head and back, until it was itterly powerless to doTend itself with its :aws, which it had at first endeavore d to nuke use of. The birds seeing the i nemy was succumbing to the terrible 1 lunislimeiit they were inflicting upon it, 1 entwed the att ick with redoubled vigor, j ,nd his catship was soon stretched life- ' ess u] o;i the ground, with its eyes >ii ked out and its skull perforated in ? 1 - A ? " * 4V?A Aof rtnocnr) nnny piuuus. suuu mg o show sigr.s of life the sparrows flew >ack into the tree, and continued their Irafening chatter in honor of the vie* ory.?St. Louis Gltie-Democrat, The Idle Knfllrs. Anglican missionaries in the diocese of Mariuburg, South Africa, claim that ;hc great sin of the Kaffirs is idleness. What work is done falls on the shoulders )f the women, and they dou't work three aonths out of the twelve. When the people are not oil to a beer drinking hey a re stretched out iu the sun, idling their time away.. They don't, itseem9, ;i'<e to go to church any better than they [ike to work. Sometimes the impatient nissionary will have to wait for his congregation more than an hour, even after i messenger has been sent for them.? Chicago Herald. A MODERN UTOPIA. * *HE CHARM OF THE JAPANESI ISLANDS. Pleasing Characteristics of the Peo pie?A Land of Many Holidays?blaster ami Servant?Japanese Art. <? Tho distinption which Japan enjoy is, that while'other countries have loveh spot-s she is e.fcry where enchanting. Thi whole length of the island chain, l,20l miles in extent, hardly presents a spo that wculd not be a subjcct for a land scape painter. ' The great central moun tain range, wrth the overtowering cone shaped r'ujiama, rises almost out of thi ocean below to be lost in view in thi clo ds above. Long transverse spurs o hil's run out into the sea. Deep, warm Koftn /itr/irtnvhprA pilf I J III YilllCja UUTVi K/\*\JLX VIVIJ I. uv. W w ? through the mountains and hills, an( bordering the ocean feitile plains hnvi been formed from the weatherings an< washings of the great mountain masses. Covering these plains, valleys, hillside and mountains is a verdure that riots ii luxuriance. Clear streams, from thei elevated source?, dash through narrov gorges/ pour in gleaming cataracts dowi precipitous mountain sid.-s and whir m crystal eddies at the feet of over branching forest trees. It is a climat'* zone where the flora of the cold nortl and that of tl.? heated sonth mret an* iijteimjnglo. The pine and palm, th maple and magnolia, the beech and bam boo, and the oak and the oiauge in'.er lace their branches in the same grove Around all the laud are the waters o the gre it ocean, from which soft wind temper the heat of an almost tropic sun Living in such scenes of enchantmen the>e people are as light of heart aac sunny in dispo-ition 39 children, and si polite and pleasure loving as to excit* the admiration of even their French ant Italian visitors. There is no dwellings( humble b it it has a spot for trees ant flowers. The rich have gardens in whicl are faithful reproductions in minia uri of their varied landscapes, hidden ii trees and flowering shrubbery. Ever farmer's plot of land is beautiful ant adorned. The gold of the ripened rici and wheat is contrasted against a back ground of green foliage. Whatever nam* may be given to the religion of that peo p!e, and whatev. r creeds and doctrine may have been engrafted upon their be litfs, the main feature of their worshij is an intense love, amounting almost t< an adoration, of nature. Tliis appear in their whole life. They have buil their temples 011 the sides of the greal mountains, embowered them in over hanging grovcB, and surrounded then with everything of flowering shiub. Thi sites of these command beautiful view: of the surrounding country, and usuallj arc near fountains and waterfalls. Tin village shrines are located in the inos charming spots of the neighborhood and no labor is spared to adorn and beau tify them. The highways are borderec by rows of trees, planted centuries ago whose branches form an evtrgrcen arcl over the head of the traveler. The roac to Nikko, where the temple* and tomb of the Tycoons are situated, has a grant avenue of giant frs. For sixty mile one may ride in the shade of these wide brandling trees. From Yokohama soutl to Kioto, the old capital, 400 miles, th road is one continuously shaded avenue winding along the ocean shore, arouui narrow bays and inlets and over higl hills and mountain sides. Unlike their neighbors, the Chinese the Japanese take time from theft toi to enjoy all this. Their government ma have been despotic and arbitrary, out 1 never overworked its laboring popula tion. It gave them more holidays tha any people under the sun ever enjoyed They had what weie known at th ^Ichi-roku" days, that is, all the days i the lunar months that were designate by one or six. Thus the 1st, Oth, 11th 10th, Cist and 2'ith days of each mont' were legal holidays. In addition t these, the birthdays of the ruling Era peror and Empress, and also of seven of the greatest of their prcdeces-ors c the ruling dynasty, which n-aches bac through :.',(5U0 years, arc holidays. Ever village h is festivals in honor of its patro saint, and the saints of the famous ten pics and shrines have fe-tal days. V all lhc;e the people, in their holida dressi-s, gather at the temples andshrim for thanksgiving and to admire th beauties of earth and sky. Whole neigl bnrhoods turn out their populatioi lenvinrr onlv enough ncoDle at home t care for the households, and go sonu times hundreds of miles, on what ran appropriately be called these religioi picnics They walk along the shade avenue?, talking, laugh'ng and siaginj They rc-t when weary from walking i the shade of the great trees by son clear stream, or some bubbling s,irin< All these great highways are lined wit tea booths, when-, tea, rice, eggsorcak* can bo had for an incomparably lo price. . The spring and summer bring th flower festivals, when city and villag streets for miles are filled with the mos beautiful floral exhibitions, and crow., of admiring people. There is 110 inoi beautiful sight than one of the Ion wide streets lighted at night and fille with ilowers. The love of the beautifi has led the .Japanese to forego the gross* pliyisurq of e t'ng the fruit of the cherr tree in oidcr that they may enjoy tb beauty and fragranr e of the cherry bio: 3 >ms. There are large groves of th double-flowered cherry tree* in all pari of the country, which grow to enormoi size. The flower is as large as a rosi and when in full bloom these groves ar 3 marvel of beauty, and are visited b thousands of people, who spend tl: whole day in these tlowery avenues. Tli chrysanthemum gardens, to be found i all towns and villages, are point9 < great attraction. In these are to be see every variety of that flower, every shad of color, and almost every size of bio: ?0111. The summer sees streams of peopli the poor as well as the rich going t gaze at Pujiama, the pearl of mountain! Ko person is so poor and no distance s great but several pilgrimiges are mad in a lifetime to the venerated mountaii In the autumn, when the golden li^e^n when and the bif)wn millet have bee gathered, the harvest festival is he! in cve.y part of the country. Thci in the groves, on soft green catpc spread by nature, under the fullharve moon, they make merry, uight afti night, with song and dance. At the; harvest festivals all ola9se->, from prnc to peasant, rcjoitc together over tl ample winter's *tore. It is not oni in this intense worship of natw thnt the beauty of their count'y h molded and influenced their natur; character. It is seen in their domest: intercourse. In all the !.*onventionalit:i of polite life they are far in advance < any people in the Occident This relint politeness pervades every qrade of si cietv. It is just as noticeable among tl lower as in the higher classes. To I J -- a Ko/?Amfl ft CAP? 1'UuC winu ui av,t io ww ~ outcast. The poorest workers, whc they ireet, greot cach other aa politely, and pass the compliments of the day as freely and feelinglv as do those of higher stations. While the vocabulary of comJ pliraents and blessings is a long one, there are no words for a curse in their whole language. There may be hate, i- jealousy and envy, but they find no ver. ? ? ta. J_ i A j_i: Dai expression, it is a uunsiuut ucugut to hear only pleasant words and good wishes. The relations of masters and servants are as admirable as possible. They are mutual and confidential. While the ser* vant studies the interest of the master, } the latter makes the welfare of the ser. vaut and his family his duty. The servant is made to feel that he is a factor of [ some importance in bis employer's business by being consulted upon many mat* ters of importance. The master is polite and kind and the servant deferential and . respectful on all occasions. The relation of parents and children shows the same : refining influences. There is no a sump, tionoftheaithortyofthedrillmaster.no exaction of blind obedience, no ruling by j fear on the part of the parent. Obedience' is induced by patieat teaching day after day. The child is lovingly taught why he should do certain things, and why he 1 sould not do certain other things. The bond between parents and children is 1 oue of reason and regard, and the ri suit . is that the child makes his duty to tho parent the foremost object of his life, " and his own interests arc made entirely ^ secondary. A foreigner might live in , that country* for years and see less parental tyranny and violence than he would see in most families in some other ". countries in a month, and he can see more filial devotion there in a month j than is observable elsewhere in years. Japnnese ideal art is only a repro3 duction of the beauties of nature. Tho 2 artist puts mountains, valleys, waterfalls, , lakes, trees, flowers and birds on porcelain, paper, silk, satin and lacquer, but beyond this field of decoratiou he has no , J fancy. These are some of the characteristics of the Island Empire and its peo, pie, but it must not" be inferred that these finer traits of character mean ] I effeminacy, for they do not. These peo* ' i a - -II xlL - ~ pie are orave ana aaring, ai au mwae who were reared among mountains have I been in all ages. Tliey have proved their title to bravery on many n bloody field. In spite of time con umed in " pilgrimages and in worshiping nature, they are industrious workers. They have * built up manufactures, e tablished trade and commerc?, and developed a system * of agriculture that is more thorough and . brings better results than that of many i of their neighbors.?San Francisco Chront icU' t Ashantee and Its People. 1 Ashnntce, a new kingdom on the Gold 2 Coast, has given the British no little 9 trouble, and may give them a good deal f more. It is mountainous, well watered 2 and healthful, except in the lower districts, and has a population of about * J,000,000, one-fifth of whom are warj riors. The beginning of the kingdom is 1 obscure; but traditions say that it wan ' occupied several centuries ago by immij grants from a iegio:i north of the King 1 Mountain^ caused, probably, by the ? spr.ad of the Mohammedan Empire to l'imbuctoo. The first known of it in 3 Europe was in 1100, when C'oomassie * was made the capital by Osai Tootoo I., WUO, Having uvurvuiuc runuua e states, was established as a kind of j' feudal prince over a large district. In their course of conquest over the Fantcea 1 the Ashantees followed them even to the large seaport towns, and butchered th< m !? by thousands. The British sided with 1 the weaker party, when the savage foe 7 attacked the fo.t of Anamboe, and t would have slaughtered the garrison had not the British Governor displayed ' a I'ag of truce. Hostilities lasted, wr+v> ortmo intflrruntion*. from 1807 to e 1820 when the Aslhantces were finally a driven irom the sea coast. Some fourd tcea years ago the British were involved '? in another war with their old enemy, h Then au army under Sir (jarnet Wolseley 0 penetrated to the heart of the Kingdom, burned (Joomasaie and returned safely to il the const. Notwithstanding their re>f ve:ses and losses, the Ashan'.ees are still ^ belligerent and powerful, and enjoy aa .V much prosperity as any negro nntion in 11 western Africa. They are very barbari ous and bloodthirsty; but their abundn ant gold, extent of territory an 1 succe>sJ -ful campaigns have yielded them presis tige and prominence. They have no ie military knowledge, but depend upon i- their savage bravery and overwhelming numbers, including many slaves, which o the chiefs can put in the field. The -- King is commandcr-in-cbief, and often iy leads his host in j erson. As an instance i< nf their desnerate courage, m iny of them, d after defeat by the BritTsh, were so mor? titiecl and so fearful of degradation that n they coolly sat down on,kegs of gunie powder an.l blow them elves into the nir; J- in presence of the hostile camp. The h government of those negroes is an ateon lute despotism, the King exercising romw plete control over the lives and property of his subjects. lie has splej everyie where, and the slightest act or word of e disaffection is at once reported, and the t rebel is put to death. He is the great Is property owner; he levies a tax of twenty e per ceut. on all manufactured gold and g all gold taken from the mines, so that be d is the richest individual in Africa, il Slavery prevails extensively, the chiefs >r often holding 1,000 slaves each; thes?; y beings are for the most part pagan ne'e ^rocs, captured in war by jVlohamme3 I dans, brought from the interior and sold ie I into bondage. Polygamy is a favorite ts I institution, a mau's importance being ia I rated bv the number of his wives. The ?. King is limited, poor fellow, to 3,333, e I who occupy two entire streets and are iy j rigorously secluded from everybody save ic : the sovereign and his feminine relatives, ic j T ) look on one of them, even accidenn | tally, is a capital offence. Adultery is >f punished by a fine, and retaliation of n ! any violent kind on the part of the husle band is thought mean and degrading. 3- The Ashantee'i seem to delight in shedding blood, and human sacrifice is a j l pait of their religious ceremony ?Comq mtrcial Advertiser. 3. ?1 A Pretty Experiment. i. AVith so simple an article as a red cab(1 bage, a very old but pretty little chemiii cal ex| e; iment may bo made by the rl | yo;:ng people,' with the result of amus c | ing and astonishing those around them, ts j The elfe ts may be str.kingly shown in st! this manner: Cut threj leaves of the ;r! cabbage into small pieces, and after ?e placing them in a basin pour a pint of * *1' L A,,A? +V*?>m li>ltinflr tlinm ;e : Dialling Will CI uvvi iui,U| 6 ie ! stand an ho ;r; then pour off the liquid lv ! iuto a decanter. It wili be of a fine blue ,-e I color. Then take four wine glasses? is j into one put six drops of strong vinega>; il j into another six drops of solution of ic ! soda; into a third the same quantity of ja strong solution of alum; and let the if | fourth glass remain empty. Fill up the J ; glasses from the decanter, and the liquid 3. poured into the glass containing the acid ie will quickly change to a beautiful red; )e that poured with the soda will be a fine al green, and that poured into the empty !Q glas3 will remain unchanged. / f >- : -V y " # y^k _.r . ' ~ 1 T< LAND OF THE A.N AMERICAN'S OBSERVATIONS IN RUSSIA ~ .. ..w. W A Country Whose Frontier is Guard* ed at Every Point by Sentinels? Cronstadt's Frowning GunsScenes in St. Petersburg. - / S! * . /J Russia is a sphinx, says Demas Barnes, in the Brooklyn Enjle. She may not miptly bo compared to a great bee-hive, with walls so thick that to outsiders a sound is seldom beard, while within is an intensely active population, whose occupation is not merely to gather pollen from Cossack rosea oh their own vast >; plains, but whose pinions are capablc of flyine from the Black Sea on the south to the Arctic ( ccan on the north, and from the German 1 mpire in the West of Europe to Kehring Straits of Eastern Asia. Neither is the imperial stomach "gorged by swallowing small provinces on her own borders, Lut she gulps down, apparently without discom- , fort, whole nation*, like Poland, Turkestan, an.l Finland, and now, judging from appearances, she is about to establish her. elf on the Persian tlulf. A cordon of sentinels guard her frontier 'at every point, and ctnsors control the press, inspe. t telegra i:s, and overhaul the mails. The gauge of railroad tracks is broken at the frontier towns, so that no car nor its co.-nmo li:ies can enter or leave the territory without scrutiny. Even her language is a bar to intercourse. The hjissian alphabet contains ; thirty-six characters, p.utly Roman ana partly composit. Seeing my own name written in Russian I could not read it. The multiplied vowel < nnd peculiar consonant sounds effectually ] r vent a foreigner from understanding a word when pronounced, and it is impossible for a foreigner to inquire for a person, town, street or number?a bad place to be lost in. The Russian d.ctionary contains over 90,000 words. Po.try in .-uch diluted language would seem to 1 ck that epigrammatic terseness whif h is essential to convey force and emphasis. To describe such a people under such conditions and at a single s tting is impossible. It would require n local residence for years and the entire space of twenty newspapers to convey anything like an adequate idea of the Russian Empire? the country and its people, to say nothing of its history. I entered Russia from the north. It would have made no difference had it been from the east, the south or the west. Russia is fortified on all sides, not alone by fortres es and big guns, but by a secret espionage which, without being able to locate or describe, is felt, and one insensibly proceeds with caution. One is not |-c:mitted to leave a car or a boat or to enter a notei, or again to leave a city, without showing a passport and having ii diily indorsed. \Cronstadt is the seaward sentinel of . St. Petersburg, ^eveu islands in the middle of a'wide, shallow bay, the islands covered by immense forts, and the channel to be traversed by vesseli winding between them, create an impression that this is not one of Rusaia'i weak points. Indeed, one look into the throats of those frowning guns convey* an idea of impregnability. The next impression of strength made upon my mind was by the extent of Russia's wheat fields. It has so happened that I followed the harvesting of cereals through Bslgium, Denmark, i-wed^n, and parta of itussia. From "the English Channel to the I'ral Mountains, and, I understand, far beyond them, it seemed to be a nearly unbroken field of yellow grain. America has no longer a corner on wheat. The average crop of the United States is about twelve b.ishels per acre! If Itussia, by reasou of poor farming, -> . averages eight bushels pir acre, she can, , - \ T think nwincr to thr> cheapness of her land and labor, undrrsell us. Apparently, she has enough wheat harvested this year to feed th- entire world. St. Petersburg m y well be styled the Magnificent City of Hie >c\a. Its streeta are broad, buildings, ma-sive, parks numerous, museums interesting, and ita monuments grand. 1 have endeavored to refrain from giving space for reference to pictures, statuary, churches, architecture and art, which most travelers > describe with minuteness. But a part of * the charm and bloom of Fastern countries would be wanting were the aesthetic wholly eliminated from what I say. In front of the Hermitage Museum at St. Petersburg arc ten mouolith Siberian marble statues supporting the portico, i each one of which is fifteen f?.et high, fully developing in the most ideal manner Hcrculean streng h. In this grdfct depository of national wealth, among other things, is a *olid jasper vase ten ! feet broad, sixteen feet long, and about I nine feet high. St, Cathedral has four equal irOnts in the form of a cross. At each of the facades project great portions sunrorted bv double rows of mon olith columns seven feet in diameter and sixty feet high?sixty four in all. Sublimely beautiful and in effect upon the mind not unlike that produced by a view of the Egyptian pyramids. The River Neva here about half a mile wide. It is crossed by ten bridges, lighted by ga3 or electricity. Seen in the evening, with miles of similar lights reflected in the water from the quays made busy by hurrying crowds of men, women,and vehicles, the sight is one of exceptional beauty. Driving in the streets of St. Petersburg is something to be remembered. The private ca;riages are line barouches, quite like our own, and I generally .drawn by black Tartarian or Bulgarian stallion horses. These animals have long manes and tails, and are driven at a rate of J-peed that would make the Commissioners of Central Park stare and clear the concourse of people in a short time. The drosky is a small four-wheeled, one-horse carriage, very low in the body, seating two passengers, and a driver in front. All drivers wear * - - A ' ^ ~ fnnf long surtout coats reamiuj,' l?u IUCII lV?Vf plaited over the hips and bustled behind. The cap is low, broad oa top, with a curved rim, exactly like that of a gentleman's stovepipe hai Around the top of the hat are attached several small quills or feathers, in numbers according to the Cossack or provincial lank of the driver. The harness is made of very small picces of strong leather. It is at. tached to the carriage or wagon by doable traces, one to the whiffle tree, and one at the end of the axletree outside of ihe hub?an extra precaution agaiust accidents. Over tbo horse's shoulders and his collar is raised an ornamental ox bow, about twenty inches in height. Within and on this bow are arranged pretty tassels and small bells. In Moscow horses attached to omnibuses, hotel coaches and private carriages are driven four abreast. Being conveyed from the depot in one of those Oriental equipages one feels as if * 1 ? thA f>h&riofc races lie ur sue wcic ?? ?? ?? of the Olympian feats. In Minneapolis a well-known citizen is building a log house in the heart of the city. It will bo a big, rambling structure, will cost $'20,000 and be provided with all the modern improvements.