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OUR YOUNG FOLKS.
ritOM Tin: I'BADIX
They (ell mo I won liom a long
Throe months ago,
But whothor they are right or wrong
I hardly know.
I aleen, I smile, I cannot crawl,
Hut I can cry—
At proton t I am rather small—
A ha he am I.
The changing lights of sun and shad*
Arc hahy toys;
The flowers and birds are not afraid
Of bahy-hovs.
Home day I’ll wish that I could b
A bird and II y;
Al present 1 can’t wish- you seo
A hahe am 1.
Found In n I'rng.
The huh had arisen when Gita axvoke.
Site lived at the top of a tall old house
with la r grandimitlier, and both were
poor. When she had put on her thin
cotton gown, and Hmoothed her hair with
her Hinail brown hand*, Gita ran down
stairs lightly; and those ntairs—some
crooked stone steps in a dark passage
—would have broken our necks to de
scend. Hhe came out in a narrow street,
with the narrow houses almost meeting
overhead, and steep paths or (lights of
steps leading down to the shore. The
town was Mentone, in the South of
Prance, with the boundry lino of Italy
not half a mile distant. Atone end of
the street was visible the blue sky and
two churches, yellow and white, on an
open square, with towers, where the
India were ringing.
Oita felt in her pocket for a crust of
hard bread, and li 'gantocut. This was
her breakfast, and if she had been richer
she would have drank a little black coffee
with it. As it was, she paused at the
fountain, where the women were gossip
ing as they drew water in buckets, and
placed her mouth under the spout.
Raphael came'along, and greeted her.
Raphael, a tall young fellow with bright
eves, n face the color of bronze, and a
little black mustache, was the son of a
merchant who kept goats and donkeys
for the visitors who came hero every year.
The goats furnished rich milk for the in
valids to drink, while the ladies and chil
dren road the donkeys. Oita found
Raphael very handsome.
He wore a Various straw hat with the
brim turned up, a shirt striped with red,
blue pantaloons, and a yellow sash about
his waist. One could see he osteenitv 1
himself rather a dandy. In turn, Itaphael
found (lita the prettiest girl of his ac
quaintance, with her largo black eyes,
brown face, and white teeth. Besides,
Gita was amiable and did not mock at
him when he walked on the promenade
on Sunday with his hat on one side, and
a cigarette in his mouth.
“1 have asked the consent of my pa
rents to our marriage,” said Raphael.
“They refuse, unless you have a dower
of at feast a hundred francs. Wo must
wait.”
Oita sighed and shook her liead ns she
pursued her way down to the shore. In
these countries the young people must
obtain the consent of their parents to
marry, and the bride should have a
dowry, Gita had not u penny; Raphael's
father might as well have asked him to
briug the moou us one hundred francs.
Grandmot her was seated under an arch
way, with her little furnace before her,
rousting chestnuts. Grandmother, a
wrinkled old woman, with a red handker
chief wound about her head, was a chest
nut merchant. The sailors, children,
and Italians coming over the border
bought her wares, and when slm was not
employed in serving them she twisted
flax on a distal!'.
“Raphael's father needs a dowry of one
hundred francs,” said Gita, as grand
mother gave her a few chestnuts.
“Ah, if you were a lemon girl!” said
grandmother, beginning to twist the
nax.
Gita poised a basket on her head, took
a white stocking from her pocket and be
gan to knit as she walked away. The
women of tiie country eany'all burdens
on their heads. You may see a mother
with n mound of cut grass on her head,
dandling a little baby in her arms as she
moves along. Grandmother had been a
lemon girl in her day, but Gita was not
strong enough. The lemon girls bring
the fruit on t heir heads many miles, from
the lemon groves down to the ships, when
they are sent to America aiul other dis
tant lands.
When you next taste a lemonade at a
Sunday-school picnic, little reader, re
member how far the lemon has traveled
to furnish you this refreshing drink.
Gita went along the shore knitting, her
empty basket tilting on her head. The
blue Mediterranean Sea sparkled as far
as the eye could reach, and broke on the
pebbles of the bench in waves ns clear ns
crystal. Hoon she turned back toward
the hills, following a narrow path be
tween the high garden walls, passed un
der a railroad bridge and entered an olive
garden. Site worked here all day, gath
ering up the little black olives which fall
from the trees, much as children gather
nuts in the woods at home. Other women
were already at work; their dresses of
gav colors, \ olh >w and red. showed against
the gray buck-ground of the trees. A
Ik\v beat the branches with a long pole.
Oita began to work with the rest. She
did not think much about the olive tree,
although it was a good friend. She was
paid twenty sous a day to gather the ber
ries from the ground, which were then
taken to the crushing mill up the ravine
to be made into oil. Gita nte the green
lemons plucked from the trees ns a child
of the North would eat apples, but she
loved the good olive oil better. When
the grandmother made a feast, it was to
fry the little silver sardines in oil, so crisp
and brown.
The olive tree is a native of Asia Minor,
and often mentioned in the Bible. Some
of the trees in the garden where Gita
now worked were so old that the Romans
saw them when they conquered the
world.
At noon the olive-pickers paused to
rest Gita went away alone, and ate the
handful of chestnuts given her by grand
mother. When she returned to the town
at night she would have another bit of
broad and a raw onion. Hhe seated her
self on the eilgo of the ravine, and
thought about Raphael as she munched
her nuts. Below this path traversed the
ravine, and climbed the opposite slope
to the wall of a pretty villa, one of the
houses occupied for the winter by rich
strangers. Gita looked at the villa, with
its window shaded by lace curtains, bal
conies, and terraces, where orange trees
were covered with golden balls of fruit.
“If I were rich like that I would have
soup every day, sometimes made of
pumpkin and sometimes with macaroni
in it, she thought.
Then she turned over a stone with her
heavy shoo, and it rolled down the hill.
Gita uttered a cry. The stone had cov
ered a hole at the root of the olive tree
where she sat, far away from the other
workers. In the hole she saw a green
frog; she dropped on her knees to look at
it more closely. Yes, it was a green
frog. How did it come there? Hhe
touched it with her fingers; the frog did
not move or croak. Then she took it
out carefully. The frog was one of those
pasteboard boxes which appear each year
in the shop windows of Paris for Easter
presents, in company with fish, lobsters,
and shells.
Gita raised the lid. Inside were hank
hills and a lizard. Hhe knew lizards very
well; they were always whisking over
the stone walls; hut then those were of
a brown tint, while this one was white
until she lifted it, when it sparkled like
a dewdrop. The lizard was an ornament
made of diamonds. Gita held her breath
and closed her eyes. Hhe believed her
self asleep. Hoon she rose, took the box
in her hand, and crossing the ravine, be
gun to climb the path to the villa above.
As she reached tho door a pony-car
riage drove up. A big servant with
many buttons on his coat told her to go
away. Gita paused, holding the box.
Tho pale lady in the carriage, who was
wrapped in rurs, motioned her to ap
proach. Quickly the girl ran forward
and held out the frog.
“I found it in a hole at the foot of the
olive tree,” she explained. “It must be
long to this house.”
The lady took the box and opened it,
emptying the contents on her lap.
There lav the diamond lizard, and the
roll of French back-notes.
“You see that Pierre was a dishonest
servant, although nothing was found on
him,” said tho lady to those about her.
lie must have hidden this box in the
olive grove to return from Nice later and
lind it.”
Gita listened with her mouth and eyes
wide open. Tlio lady looked at her and
smiled.
“You are a good girl,” she said.
Then she selected oue of tho bills and
gave it to Gita. It was a note of one
hundred francs:
“Now I can marry Raphael!” she
ciued.
Raphael was standing beside grand
mothers chustnut-roaster when both
saw Gita running towards them, her
checks rod, and her eyes flashing like
stars. She had to tell all about the frog,
not only to them, but to the neighbors.
As for grandmother, she could not hear
the story often enough. When she had
been a lemon girl no such luck had be
fallen her.
“Who would have thought of finding
a wedding dowry in a frog?” laughed
Raphael.
Gita and Raphael are soon to he mar
ried in the yellow church on the hill.
The olive-pickers in the grove seek for
something besides the dark berries; they
hope to iiud a green frog under a stone,
Containing money aial a diamond lizard;
but this will never again happen.
Engine Run by Solar Ileal.
An engine has just been perfected
which will prove of incalculable benefit
to the Gulf States, for it puts into pos
session of every citizen ten negroes who
will work, won't enk, don’t want clothes
or wages ; and this concentrated ten
negroes requires no skilled hand to work
it. It will lift li t cubic feet of water
fifteen feet high every hour ; it will drive
a mill, a fan mill, a thrashing machine,
sugar-cane crushing rollers, a churn, a '
straw-cutter ; it will clean rice, gin cot- |
ton, boil water, cook, distill water, turn j
an ice-cream freezer, make ice, distill |
ardent spirits, wash in fine, be worth !
more than any ten negroes, or ten j
Chinese, or any t%a Spaniards.
Do you remember that visitors to the
great Exhibition of 1878 were astonished I
to see a pump lift water, steam potatoes, !
and boil soup, w ithout coal or tire, only
h\ sunbeams? Moos, Mouchot's “ Solar
Receiver,” which did all these wonders,
has been so improved that it really
seems to have become of practical use.
Mons. Moucliot’s apparatus consisted of
a brass shade, like a lamp shade, plated
with silver, with its large opening turned
toward the sun. In the center of the
shade and in its nxis was the receiver
to be heated. This receiver was coated
with black paint or lamp-black (black is
a great absorber of beat), and all around
it was a glass screen to prevent the es
cape of the 'prisoned heat. Mons.
Pitre has changed somewhat* Mons.
Mouehot’s apparatus. The latter gave
the sides of his reflector an inclination of
13 deg. The former gives them some
thing of the parabolic shape, makes the
boiler less high by half, and so shuns all
loss by radiation ; he throws the sun
beams on the lower part of the boiler,
winch arrangement secures the regular
production of steam; he changes the
mechanism which keeps the apparatus
constantly exposed to the sun; he has
invented anew motive power and means
of transmitting motion. To get up a
machine of one-horse power requires a
boiler which produces forty-two pounds
of steam with a heat of five atmospheres ;
this quantity of steam can Ire raised with
a reflector of twenty square yards—say
fifteen yards eighteen inches diameter, at
its greatest base.— Paris Correspon
dence New Orleans Picauune.
Andre’s Prophetic Poem.
During the years 1779 and 1780 Andre
was on duty in New York, and took a
biading part in the social life of that
city. He accompanied Hir Henry Clin
ton at the capture of Htony Point, Juno
1, 1779, and wrote as aid-de-camp upon
the glacis of Fort Lafayette the terms of
capitulation conceded to the garrison.
He kept a careful diary and frequently
wrote squibs in prose aud verse for the
loyalist papers, and in August, 1780,
composed at Elizabethtown a burlesque
l>oetu entitled “The Cow Chose,” in
three cantos, amounting to seventy
quatrains. The subject was the attack
made by Gen. Wayne upon a block
house hear Bull’s Ferry, two or three
miles below Fort Lee, in order to drive
in some cattle from Bergen Neck. By a
singular coincidence the bust canto of
this poem was printed in Jlivinglon’s
Gazette, Sept. 23, 1780, the day of the
poet’s capture at Tarry town. The last
stanza is as follows :
And now I’ve cloned my epic strain;
1 tremble an I ahow it.
Lent thia same warrior drover, Wayne,
Should over catch the poet.
It happened, singularly enough, that
Gen. Wayne was the commander of tho
post at Tappan at tho time of Andre’s
execution. The original of the “Cow
Chase,” in Andre's autograph, is still
preserved, and underneath the above
quoted lines an American pen has gelded
the coarse commentary:
When the epic Htrai u was sunn,
'Xhe poet by tho neck was hung.
How a Snake Moves.
A snake when on the ground moves
often with considerable rapidity. The
head is slightly raised, aud the body
and tail progress by means of the pe
culiar grasping power ef the skin and
ribs of the underneath parts, which en
ables consecutive contraction and elon
gation to occur. The movement is more
or less flat with the earth, and thesuake
never coils upward, as is often figured
in old and some new paintings and en
gravings. It can erect its head and
much of the neck and fore part of the
body, and this is also done when the
creature is in horizontal coils, and
quiescent. On moving up a stone or
tree the head, neck and much of the
body may be placed against the more or
less vertical object, and a small portion
only of the body may bo left on the
ground, but in this position the snake is
liable to fall sideways. On moving up a
tree they do not coil themselves round
and round it like a rope, but they may
do this when still. It is wonderful how
snakes move along and between houghs,
and, taking a turn round one with their
tail end, swing and look for food, and
also how they will make themselves up
into a bunch on a fork of a tree, and re
mains there without falling. They swim
in an undulating manner, but the body
is wriggled on the same plane as the sur
face of the water, and not at right angles
to it, but in rushing at their prey, both
in the water and on land, there is more
or less upward or downward bending of
part of the body, and a rapid thrust of
the head forward!.
Conundrums.
When is a wall like a fish? When it
is sealed.
How does a stove feel when full of
coals? Grateful.
Which of the reptiles is a mathema
tician ? The adder.
When is a boat like a heap of snow?
When it is adrift.
When is a doctor most annoyed?
When he is out of patients.
■When is a literary work like smoke?
When it comes in volumes.
Why is the letter G like the sunr Be
cause it is the center of light.
What is that which shows others what
it cannot see itself? A mirror.
Why is the letter N like a faithless
lover? Because it is inconstant.
How does a eov become a landed
estate? By turning her into the field.
Why is whispering a breach of good
manners? Because it is not allowed.
What is an old laly in the middle of
the river like? Like to be drowned.
What word may be pronounced
quicker by adding a syllable to it?
Quick.
Why is a miser Ike a man with a
short memory? Remise he is always
forgetting.
How does a sailor know there is a man
in the moon? Because he has been to
sea (see).
Why is a fool in high station like a
man in a balloon? Because everybody
appears little to hid, and he appeal's
little to everybody.
Dr. Cuylr’s Joke.
The Eov. Theodoo L. Cuvier, D. D.,
was in attendance lit the Presbyterian
Council. One day in the week the
butchers had afestifil of some kind, and
were to have a gand parade. That
morning Dr. Cuyhitisited a barbershop
to get shaved. Whn the knight of the
razor had stretched bis customer’s neck
and pushed his heat as far back as pos
sible, and filled his ties, nose, and mouth
with lather, he said t him interrogatively,
and speaking ns a frjnd:
‘ ‘ Well, you’re gjng to turn out to
day ?”
* ‘ Eli?" said the Dotor.
*‘ I say you're goig to have your big
display. ”
“ Going to—what?l didn’t catch your
remark.”
“ I say you butch® are going to turn
out. You're a butchj, ain't you?”
“ Well, not exactly I eat a good ileal
of meat, but 1 can’t sr that I kill much.
Still, I belong to an rder closely con
nected with the butclrs.”
* 4 You do. What's lat?”
44 The Order of Cleiers. ”
44 Oh! and what do >u do?”
44 We cleave unto ti Lord. ”
The astonished bater had sufficient
presence of mind to ilect his fee from
the member of the Onr of Cleavers. But
Dr. Cuyler couldn't he telling the story.
—New York Qraphi
Lrd Macaulay.
His was a memory of stupendous feats,
and also an intelligent instrument and
servant. He could not only remember
what was useful, what he wanted to re
member, but what was utterly worthless,
what entered his miuil hv accident, what
was read by the eyes only, scarcely en
tering into the mind. If, on one occa
sion, he repeated to himself the whole of
“Paradise Lost” while crossing the
Irish Channel, on another, waiting in a
Cambridge coffee-house for a post-chaise,
he picked up a country newspaper con
taining two poetical pieces—one “ Re
flections of an Exile,” and the other “A
Parody on a Welsh Ballad”—looked
them once through, never gave them a
further thought for forty years, and then
repeated them without tho change of a
single word. The readers of his “Life”
will remember that his memory retained
pages of trashy novels read once in his
youth. In fact, in a way of speaking, he
forgot nothing. As has been well said,
“his mind, like a dredging net at the
bottom of the sea, took up all that it en
countered, both bad and good, nor ever
seemed to feel the burden ” —in this dif
fering from Bolingbroke. We have
spoken of disproportionate memories.
His we cauuot but think a case in point.
He would have been a fairer historian if
he could have forgotten some things—if
his early impressions had so faded that
they could have given place to, or at least
been modified by, new ones. In their
vivid strength they stood in the way of
'udorment. - Blackwood'n Maaaainm.
American Tobacco.
Mliile I was at Ferrieres, in Italy, I
heard a comical story from the wife of an
American gentleman who resides in the
neighborhood. It seems tobacco is a
Government monopoly; the raising of
more than a dozen plants by any one
person is strictly prohibited. The gar
dener engaged by my friend liad rather
a liking for the plant, and embellished
several of his ornamental flower-beds
with it. Ho one day the lady was waited
upon by the Commissairo, who informed
her that, as she had transgressed the
rules respecting the cultivation of to
bacco bv lion-authorized individuals, she
would have to pay a fine of some S3O.
But, fortunately, the Republican Dep
uty from the district was on terms of
great intimacy with the family, and he
offered his services to get them out of the
scrape. He went, therefore, to call on
the local Magistrate, and represented to
him that the offending plants were of
American origin, and, consequently,
were of a kind that were totally valueless
for any other purpose than that of orna
mentation. The dignitary professed him
self as being quite satisfied with the ex
planation, aud, iu view of the non
existence in commerce of any such an
article as American tobacco, my friend
got off scot free. —Lucy Hoover.
Oriental “Progress.”
What in the modem slang of social
science is called “progress” is breaking
out in Oriental lands where hitherto it
has been kept under with little difficulty.
But the notions peculiar to countries oi
railroads and steamboats seem to accom
pany that sort of locomotion wherever it
goes. Thus in Constantinople within
a few years the Turks are beginning to
go to public houses and drink liquor
openly, even in the neighborhood of the
mosques. This is in the face of the
strict prohibition of the Koran, which
enjoins total abstinence. The women,
too, imitating their European sisters, are
gradually dropping the veils which con
ceal their features. They now wear a
thin gauze veil which practically hides
nothing; but on seeing an official ap
proach, they drop a heavier one. Still
further East the English magistrate in
the district of India where the “car of
Juggernaut ” is brought out has, before
allowing it to move on its annual proces
sion of crushing the faithful under its
wheels, ordered patent safety-brakes
upon the car.
The Horrors of Chinese Warfare.
It is horrible to contemplate, says the
British Medical Journal , that in the
not improbable event of hostilities break
ing out between Russia and China in
Central Asia, large armies will be sent
into the field by the latter power unac
companied by medical officei's, and un
provided with ambulances, bandages, or
surgical appliances of any kind. The
sick and wounded of these armies will
have only comradeship to look to for
succor; and when rapid advances or re
treats are being effected, comradeship is,
of course, of no avail, so that they will
be left to perish miserably where they
fall. It is almost incredible jt hut an
empire, boasting an ancient civilization
and celestial culture, should be so care
less of the lives of its defenders as to
make not the faintest attempt to supply
them with aid when struck down by the
casualties of warfare; yet such is the
case, and in previous campaigns in
China the scenes witnessed on a field of
battle for days after the conflict was over,
when the wounded were slowly dying in
protracted agonies by the side of the
dead, have been indescribably hideous
and painful. This neglect of sick and
wounded soldiers is a great blot on Chi
nese civilization.
Recognition.
After he had chased the car for a
block and a half he managed to get
aboard, when, much to liis indignation,
lie found one of his friends in the car,
44 l*ou saw me running—why didn’t you
stop the car and not let me run myself
to death ? ” and with a hooked finger he
slung some of the perspiration from his
brow out of the -window. “I didn't
recognize you at first. I could only see
the upper part of your body from where
I was sitting. If I had only seen your
feet I would have known yon several
miles.” The rest of the passengers
glanced at his feet and smiled. They
were regular beetle-crushers. The owner
of them seemed to have all the explana
tion he needed for the time being.—
Galveston News.
Remarkable Discovery of a Murder.
The following account of a murder
which was committed in Bermuda in the
autumn of 1878 is by the Attornoy-
General of the islands, Mr. S. Browulow
Gray:
“In tho autumn of 1878 a man com
mitted a terrible crime in Somerset,
which was for some time involved in
deep mystery. His wife, a handsome
and decent mulatto woman, disappeared
suddenly aud entirely from sight, after
going home from church on Sunday,
October 20. Suspicion immediately fell
upon the husband, a clever young fellow
of about thirty, but no trace of the miss
ing woman was left behind, and there
seemed a strong probability that the
crime would remain undetected. On
Sunday, however, October 27, a week
after the woman had disappeared, some
Somerville 1 loatmon looking out toward
the sea, as is their custom, were struck
by observing in tho Long Bay Channel,
the surface of which was ruffled by a
slight breeze, a long streak of oalm, such
as, to use their own illustration, a cask
of oil usually diffuses around it when in
the water. The feverish anxiety about
the missing woman suggested some
strange connection between this singular
calm and the mode of her disappearance.
Two or three dkys after—why not sooner
I cannot tell you—her brother and three
other men went out to the spot where it
w'as observed, and from which it had not
disappeared since Sunday, and with a
series of fish hooks ranged along a long
line dragged the bottom of the channel,
but at first without success. Hhifting
the position of the boat, they dragged a
little further to windward, and presently
the lino was caught. With water glasses
the men discovered that they had caught
it in a skeleton which was held down b'y
some heavy weight. They pulled on the
line; something suddenly gave way, and
up came the skeleton of the trunk,
pelvis, and legs of a human body, from
which almost every vestige of flesh had
disappeared, but which, from the minute
fragments remaining, and the terrible
stench, liad evidently not lain long in the
water. The husband was a fisherman,
and Long Bay Channel was a favorite
fishing ground, and he calculated, truly
enough, that the fish would very soon
destroy all means of identification; but
it never entered into his head that as
they did so their ravages, combined with
the process of decomposition, would set
free the matter which was to write the
traces of his crime on the surface of the
water. The case seems to be an exceed
ingly interesting one; the calm is not
mentioned in any book on medical juris
prudence that I have, and the doctors
seem not to have had experience of such
an occurrence. A diver went down and
found a stone with a rope attached; by
which the body liad been held down,
and also portions of the scalp and of the
skin of the sole of the foot, and of cloth
ing, by means of which the body was
identified. The husband was found
guilty and executed.”
The Distillation of Spirits,
The following statistics are furnished
by the Commissioner of Internal Reve
nue. The figures indicate the number
of gallons of distilled spirits produced,
consumed, exported, &c., the fiscal years
ending June 30th. The marked increase
of consumption the past year is attribu
tal to the revival of manufacturing in
dustries, the larger portion of the con
sumption of spirits in this country being
as is w r ell known to all except prohibition
lecturers—used iu the arts:
1880. 1879.
Production 90,355,270 71,892,621
Consumption 61,116,523 51,892,714
Exportation 16,765,663 11,837,581
Balance in bond 31,363,869 19,212,470
The leading millionaires of San Fran
cisco are assessed this year as follows:
Leland Stanford, $19,719,000; Charles
Crocker, $19,187,000; Mrs. Mark Hop
kins, $17,211,900; J. W. Mackey & Cos.,
$10,680,000; J. C. Flood & Cos., $10,500,-
000; Win. Sharon, $4,470,000; James
G. Fair, $4,220,000; J. C. Flood, $3,-
630,000; V. Donahue, $3,220,000; N.
Liming, $3,170,000; Haggiu& Tevis, $3,-
000,000; Daniel Meyer, $2,500,000; Jas.
Phelan, $2,450,000; Joseph MacDon
ough and family, $1,669,000; James M.
McDonald, $1,759,000; Lloyd Tevis,
$1,500,000; James B. Hoggin, $1,500,-
000; D.O. Mills, $1,500,000; Louis Sloss,
$1,400,000; L. L. Robinson, $1,275,000;
It. F. Morrow, $1,200,000; Robert Sher
wood. $1,100,000; Chas. Speckles, sl,-
000,000.
Sales of Public Lands.
Commissioner Williamson, of the
General Land Office, has had prepared
a statement sho wing the number of acres j
of public lands disposed of for cash and
undt r the Homestead and Timber-Cult
ure acts during the last ten fiscal years
—lß7l to 1880 inclusive. From this
statement it appears that there was a
falling off in the number of acres dis
posed of in all three classes of land from
1871 to 1875-76, and that since the latter
year there has been a gradual increase
in the number of acres disposed of.
For the fiscal year ended June 30, 1871,
there were disposed of for cash 1,389,-
982 acres, and under the Homestead
acts 4,600,326 acres. The sales grad
ually fell off’ each succeeding year until > j
1875, when but 2,356,057 acres were dis
posed of under the Homestead acts, and
in 1876 only 640,691 acres were sold for
cash.
Since that period there has been a
gradual increase in sales and allotments,
resulting in 1880 in the sale of 1,455,724
acres for cash, and the disposal 0f’6,070, #
507 acres under the Homestead acts.
The Timber-Culture law was not enact- v
ed until 1873, and under it, in 1875,
464,870 acres were disposed of. Since
1875 the same noticeable increase ol>
served in the sales for cash and allot- ♦
ments under the Homestead laws had
occurred in the disposal of lands under
the Timber-Culture act, so that in 1880
the allotments under thia law aggregated 1
2,129.705 acres. *