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THE FLOATING GARDENS. A Surprising Sight Near the City of Mexico, Places Where Indian Cbrn, Vegetables and Flowers Grow Luxuriantly. “We visited the celebrated floating gardens,’’ writes a correspondent in Mexico, “when a tract of vegetation composed of reeds, water-plants and bushes, interwoven and laced together, becomes so dense that it will bear a superstructure, strips of turf twenty to thirty yards long by two yards wide are cut from some suitable firm place, floated to it down the canal and laid upon it; this is repeated several times, and thus an island is securely raised two or three feet above the level of the water, a little soil is spread over it, and it becomes a chinampa, or floating garden, on which Indian corn, vege tables and flowers are grown. The gardens vary in size from 100 to 200 feet in length and from twenty to 100 in width, according to the nature of the vegetation which supports them. “To secure these gardens in their proper places long willow poles are driven through them into the ground below, where they soon take root. The poles also throw out roots into the beds of the floating gardens, and so hold t hem steady. “We took a line of streetcarsand were landed near an old Spanish bridge, alongside of which we found a number of miserable flat-boats covered with awnings, with a seat on each side covered with red calieo. We held our noses as well as our breaths. Upon leaving the city the canal is lined on both sides with beautiful trees of the species of the weeping willow, only that they are quite tall. The City Gate, or local custom house, is then passed. Here are to be seen many boats laden with lumber, firewood, vegetables, fruits, flowers, etc., wait ing to pay toll. A large daily revenue is derived from this source by the gov ernment. The stalwart Indians swift ly pole the boat up the stream for about ten minutes more, and Santa Anita is reached. This is an old In dian village, which has undergone few or no changes for the last 300 years, if weexcept the public school for boys ami girls, and a small church. It is a favorite pleasure resort for the inhab itants of Mexico, especially during the summer months, and is rendered doub ly attractively by the numerous chi nainpas or floating gardens found in its Vicinity, on which are grown in re markable abundance vegetables of all kinds and beautiful flowers, which are sold for a mere trifle. “The water in the canal was the color of dish-water. At Santa Anita we entered a narrow ditch just wide enough for our boat. The little boy who pulled the boat with a long pole worked manfully. We passed by a number of women washing clothes on th ' hanks, and using a flat stone as a washboard. The gardens surprised and pleased us. Here was a small strip of land of, say, 20 feet wide by 100 deep, surrounded by water, pro ducing the finest < f onions, another cabbages, another radishes, another carrots, another flowers, and soon, for at least a mile—a succession of the best cultivated gardens I ever saw. These Mexican Indians are the best gardeners in the world aside from the Germans. Their methods are rude, b ,t they know how to cultivate their garden patches. On our return we met boat-loads of boys and girls sing ing and laughing as they slowly glided along. It was not a Venetian scene, but it showed that the brown-shoul dered, blael -eyed Indian girl could dream and talk of love." Beethoven’s Lock of Hair. Beethoven took a keen delight in practical joking. The wife of a piano forte player and composer in Vienna had such an ardent desire to possess a lock of Beethoven’s hair that she in duced her husband to ask a mutual friend to endeavor to get the great comp cr to gratify her wish. The friend prove! too fond of a practical joke to be a loyal messenger. lie per suaded Beethoven to send her a lock of coarse gray hair resembling his own, but cut from another head—a billy goat’s, and clipped from a billy g at’s beard! The lady, thinking she had the gen uine article, was as proud as a peacock; but her joke was short-lived, for an other friend, a party to the trick which had been practiced, informed her of the deception. The husband of the deluded and dis tressed lady wrote an indignant letter to Beethoven, upbraiding him; and so fairly was the composer shamed for the discourtesy and unkindness of the jest in which he had joined that he wrote a letter of apology to the ag grieved lady, enclosing a real lock of his hair, and thenceforth refused the visits ot the instigator of such ungal lant practical joking. He Thought So One of the professors at the Uni ver sit v of Texas is one of the most absent minded men in the State. Not long since a gentleman, who was only slight ly acquainted with him. asked him:— “Professor, are you married?’ The Professor was absorbed it thought for a few moments and then replied: — -Yes, I think so. if I am not mis taken.”—7’exas Siftings. dinette. VOL. XII. SUMMERVILLE, GEORGIA. WEDNESDAY EVENING, JULY 8.1885. NO. 25. COMING, 4 song from the top of a budding tree, A song of the sweetness yet to ba! Scarcely is leaf or blossom seen, Earth has only a hint of green; Yet the heaven taught sparrow can soar and sing the coming of every precious thing. Soon will the wind-blown seeds take root. Rare boughs blush into bloom and fruit, Wedded joy in a sheltering nest, Brooding love in a mother’s breast. Life’s full of gladness doth wake and sing, Through the song-bird's note, in the early spring. —Jfary TsaheZZa Forsyth, in the Current . IN THE WRONG HANDS. Miss Orinthia Brown set down her tea. cup with an emphasis that made all the china rattle. And little Airs. Meeker jumped nervously at the [ sound. “I never heard anything so ridiculous in all my life,’” said Miss Brown, deri sively. “Gilbert. Mott in love with Georgia Arlington 1 Why, she is a mere doll with big blue eyes and pink cheeks and yellow curls.” “She’s very fascinating in her man ners,” Mrs. Meeker ventured to re mark. “Oh, pshaw!” was Miss Orinthia’s contemptuous comment. “And you really think he’s in love with her?” “Yes, I must say that I think so.” “Ah-h-h,” said Orinthia, meaningly, ! “If I only dared tell you all!” “Dear me!” said Mrs. Meeker, eagerly; ; “what do you mean?” “Nothing,” said Miss Brown with a nod of her head. “lie walked home ; from church last night with me—didn’t ■ he?” “Yes, but—” “He stayed on my side of the room all the time we were decorating the fair rooms with evergreens, didn’t he?” “Yes: but that was because —” “And—but never mind, never mind!’, - said Miss Orinthia, mysteriously. “Time will show! Georgia Arlington, indeed —why, she’s nothing but a child—a ■ mere school girl! I know better!” “Do tell me, Miss Orinthia,” pleaded Mrs. Meeker. “Is he really engaged to you?” Miss Orinthia pursed up her lips,drop ped her eyelids with a manner that was wonderfully eloquent, but she would commit heiself no further. “Let’s go up stairs and finish dressing those China dolls for the lucky bag.” •aid Miss Brown. “We shall get more money out of the lucky bag than any thing else, and we must be sure and have it well furnished.” While the tea drinking ceremonial had been going on in the lower part of the mansion of Mrs Meeker, quite a dif ferent chain of circumstances was trans piring above stairs. Mr. Gilbert Mott, who had been inveighed into the snares of the ladies’ fair, nolens volens, had come early to help in the last piepara lions, and walking up to the work room had surprised a lovely blue eyed lassie in the occupation of filling sundry cones of bright-hued paper with sugar plums and French bon-bons. Georgia Arlington shook back her ninny curls and blushed like a June rose bud, as she started up. “Don’t go, Miss Arlington, please!” pleaded Gilbert, himself not unembar rassed. But Georgia muttered some thing about a roll of ribbon which she had forgotten, and fluttered past him ere he could remonstrate further. Gilbert looked after her, with a whim sical expression of dispairon his counte nance. “Now, why does she run away from me like that!” he said to himself. “Probably because she knows it tanta lizes me. But. I’ll be even with her yet; if she won’t let me tell her how dearly I love her, I’ll write it to her!” And heedless of the neglected piles of cedar sprigs and princess pine yet wait ing to be wrought into garlands, he sat down to the table, and seizing pen and ink began a passionate billet-doux after the following fashion: My Own Precious Darling: Why are you so cold and cruel to me! Why will you not let me tell you in words what you must have rear! in my eyes—the story of my heart’s devotion? For I love you, and have loved you, and shall love you to the world’s end; and you must have seen it for yourself dur ing the last few days that we have been working together for the church fair! Yet you will not give me a word or a glance of encouragement. Is this right, my ruthless queen of hearts' But I am determined that you sha> tell me when we meet again whether I may hope or not! Until then, sweet one, I am half in dispair, half hopefuL Yours, ever and unalterably, G. M. He had just scribbled oft this unstudi ed effusion when the sound of footsteps I on the stairs chased away the soft shad ows of his love dream, and he had just time to slip the paper under a leaf of Norway spruce twigs, when Mrs Meeker and Miss Orinthia Brown entered. “At work so soon!” cried the latter, archly. “Isn’t he industrious, Mrs. Meeker?” “Yes,” said Gilbert, hypocritically, “I am at work already.” So he was, but not exactly for the fair. He watched nervously for an oppor. “unity to possess himself of the precious sneer of paper without observatiofi, but Miss Orinthia, doubtless prompted there to by some baleful evil spirit, hovered around the spruce boughs like a middle aged turtledove, and effectually warded ! off his designs. And presently he was ; borne down stairs in the popular current j to open some boxes of donations which I had just arrived by parcel delivery. “I can easily come back to get it when they are busy cackling over the new things," he thought. But—fit illustration this of the futility '■ of all human plans—when he came re- | i joining back some twenty minutes or so ; ■ later the sheet was gone. Gone, leaving I ■ no trace of vestige behind—gone, utterly i and entirely! “I believe there has been some super- ; | human agency at work,” thought our i bewildered hero, as he tumbled over the ) I chaotic contents on the table in vain. But Mr. Mott was wrong. The agency i had been exceedingly human no other, j - in fact, thun mischievous little Billie Arlington, who came in search of stray prises for the famous lucky-bag which ; had been temporarily delivered into his hands. Cornucopias, pin-cushions, Him mel’s scent-bags, needle-books. he pounced on alike, and perceiving a sheet | of pink paper written on, he crumpled it I into an old envelope directed “Miss Orinthia A. Brown,” which lay beyond. “What larks it will bo! ” thought the , incorrigible Billy. “Some of the girls i ’ll think they’ve got a love-letter and how I mad they’ll be when they find it ain’t nothing but one of Riutley’s receipts or crochet patterns.” And away rushed Master Billy, little recking of the mischief he was unwit : tingly working to the cause of true love. The evening of the fair came, and the I pretty rooms made still prettier by paper | roses and evergreen garlands, were : crowded with the brave, the fair, and : some that were neither one nor the other. Georgia Arlington, presiding at one of the tables, looked lovely enough to drive I half a dozen young men distracted, in -1 stead of one; mid Miss Orinthia, in a rustling slate colored silk dress, went about like an autumn leaf in a high wind. The lucky-bag circulated from hand to hand, carrying, as is the wont of these institutions, a little cutrent of merriment ami laughter in its wake. Georgia drew a cigar case, Mr. Mott became the pro prietor of a rag doll, and Miss Orinthia Brown drew -a letter, addressed to her se'f. Gilbert Mott, leaning against the : doorway, saw Miss Brown hurrying upto Georgia and displaying her prize with malicious glee, while Georgia Colored and bit her lip, and looked ready ' to cry, ami feigned a merry little ripple ’of laughter, all in one and the same breath. “Why don’t that horrid old maid keep away from Georgia Arlington?” thought our discontented hero. “She looks like a dried-up bunch of rasing beside a clus ter of bloomiug Isabella grapes.” And, watching his opportunity, IfC slipped through the crowd and edged up to the table where Georgia was selling pincushions and tape at an exorbitant price. “Georgia!” he whispered softly “Georgia!” But si# turned her head haughtily away. “Please to cxecuse me, Mr. Mott,” she said, coolly. While Gilbert was stairing at her in amazement, a hand was slipped through his arm, and Miss Orinthia Brown drew him gently away. “Where arc you going?” he demanded rather unwillingly. “Just outside the door, one minute,” whispered Miss Orinthia, falteringly. “It is not in the tumult of a common crowd that such words should bespoken.” “ What words? I haven’t an idea of what you mean!” cried the young man. Orinthia drew him into the hail, her head drooped on his shoulder. “Yes,” she falters, “yes. How could you for a moment doubt it?” “Doubt what? Excuse me, Miss Brown, but I think your wits are forsak ing you,” said Gilbert Mott, striving to free himself from the damsel’s grasp. “Gilbert, would you then be false to me?” sobbed Orinthia with the dawning symptoms of hysteria. “I! False to you!” echoed our hero. “Miss Brown, will you be so kind as to tell me at once, and plainly, what you are talking about?” Orinthia Brown’s sallow cheeks red dened —her eyes sparkled ominously, ar she drew from her pocket the precious missive. “Do you mean to say, sir, that you didn’t write this letter?” she demanded. Gilbert took the letter and scrutinized I it closely. “Yes, of course, I wrote the letter.” “Then, dearest—” “Stop, though,” he interrupted, fran ticelly. “It wasn't to you.” “Not to me?” “No. Do you suppose I want to many you?” Miss Orinthia uttered a shrill shriek— ( but the next moment she was alone. Gil bert Mott had vanished. For the mat ter was growing serious now. If Geor gia were to be won, she must be won at once, before Fate conspired with an other old maid to deprive him of her coveted love. “Georgia,” he said, planting himself resolutely beside her. “ I Lave something I wish to say to you. ” “ You had a great deal better say it to your beloved Miss Orinthia,” eaid Geor gia, tossing her flaxen curls. “But she isn't my beloved Miss Orin [ thia,” cried Gilbert. “ I suppose you will be denying your I own handwriting next,” said Georgia, j indignantly. “But it’s of no use; I saw the letter myself.” “ But, Georgia, the letter was written to you.” “ Then,” said Georgia, brightening up a little, “ how did she get it?” “That’s just what I can’t compre l bend myself,” said Gilbert: “but one I thing lam very certain of—l love you, I and you alone, and I won’t leave you un i til you tell me whether my love is ra 'turned.” And he did not; neither was it neces i sary for him to stay there very long. But to this day nobody save Billy, the i irrepressible, knows exactly how Geor gia's letter came into Miss Orinthia Brown’s hands. Stanley on the Congo. 11. 11. Johnson, in a recent book on the Congro region, gives the following i description of his meeting with Stanley ;at Vivi,in a station crowded with Zanzi baris: “Here he was, seated, on his 1 camp-chair, his pipe in h's mouth, and a j semi-circle of grinning kinglets squatting in front of him, some of them smoking long-stemmed little-bowled pipes in complacent silence, and others putting many questions to ‘Bula Matadc’ ns to I his recent journey to Europe—to I‘Mputo,’ the land beyond the sea as ■ they call it—and receiving his replies with expressions of incredulous wonder, tapping their open mouths with their hands. I paused involuntarily to look nt this group, for Stanley had not yet seen me approaching and was uncon scious of observation. Perhaps he never posed better for his picture than at that moment, as he sat benignly chatting and smoking with the native chiefs, his face ' lighting up with amusement at their na tive remarks, while the bearing of his head still retained that somewhat proud carriage that inspired these African chieftains with a real respect for Ins wishes and a desire to retain his friend ship. Any one observing Stanley at this moment could comprehend the great in fluence he possesses over the native mind on the Congo, and could realize how < that influence must tend toward peace wherever Stanley’s fame has reached, for to attack a friend of Stanley’s seems to the natives scarcely less futile than at tacking Stanley himself. Stanley turned suddenly as the chief of the station in troduced me, ami welcomed me in a thoroughly cordial manner; then, dis- ■ missing the natives who had examined me curiously under the belief that I was ‘Bula Matade’s’ son, he sent Dualla for some tea. Dualla was a handsome Somali lad, son of the chief of police at Aden, and versed in many European and African 'languages. He had been Stan ley’s body-servant on the Congo since 1879.” 4 He Got the Money. The New York Sun tells this story of the late Commodore Vanderbilt: A few years before the war the commodore pur chased with Commodore Vanderbilt a majority of the stock of the line now known as the Pacific Mail. The part ners diagreed, and each wanted to buy the other out. At last Commodore Gar rison received an offer of several millions from Vanderbilt. Garrison accepted, and Vanderbilt paid him in notes. After ( the notes had run for some time Mr. Thorne, Vanderbilt’s son-in-law, went to Garrison and said that Vanderbilt did not want to he paying interest any longer, and offered to settle for the full amount. This was accepted, Vanderbilt sending around a check for the princi pal. Commodore Garrison put it in his pocket, and walked down to Vander bilt’s office, 3 Bowling Green. “Look here, Vanderbilt,” he said, ' striking the cheek against the palm of his hand, “I want the interest on this money.” “Do you?” replied Vanderbilt. “What ! will you do if you don’t get it?” “Do? I’ll show you what I will do,” replied Garrison, closing the door and locking it. No one knew what passed, but ten I minutes afterward Garrison emerged from the door of No. 3 bearing a check for the full amount, principal and in terest. Neither of the commodores I could ever be prevailed on to disclose the secret of that interview. A Bad Place for Christians. Formerly when a Persian Mahometan killed a Christian he was fined sls. Now he has to pay S6O for the same priv : ilege. If a Mahometan can capture a I Christian girl and convert her to his re ligion, when her father dies he inherits his property to the exclusion of all other heirs. This causes a great run after the daughters of rich Christians, even when they are not pretty. If a Mahometan, when out walking, meets a Christian on horseback, the. latter has to surrender hi* steed and allow the follower of the Pro phet to ride to his destination. The profits from “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” are not all gone yet, but still remain tire ■ most important feature of its author’s is , come. TRAINING A HORSE, i 1 life Moblc Animal** Intelligence— j Fact* of Interest <<» Owners. “There are very few people who know ( row intelligent horses are,” said an ex j pert horse trainer to a Newark Call re porter the other day. “A horse that is i rot too old can be taught anything if it is trained in the right way. The trouble j, Is that horses are not understood, and I ( consequently they arc condemned with- ' ( out cause. I can take a young colt and, j even if it be nervous and shy, in two < weeks’ time I can tire a canuon from its 1 'ack.” “How can you do it in such a short j space of time?” “Easy enough, if you go about it in 1 the right way. A horse is totally ignor-1 j ant when it is born, and so is a man. . £ They are both equal on the start, but a ; < .nan’s brain develops and he can com- i' prehend things by conversing with his j fellow men. A horse cannot and he ■ j must learn everything from observation. Upon this plan I train my colts. When ■ j I want to teach one to go back I push it i back and at the same time cry ‘back.’ : [ After repeating that several times the I animal learns what the word means, i j md he will obey it instantly when it is given. If I want him to follow me I pursue the same course. Horses arc taught tricks in this way and you can make a colt paw the ground simply by saying the word.” “Can an old horse be taught?” “Not very well, if they are over nine years. They become like old people and lose all aptitude for knowledge. The hardest thing is to break an old horse of shying at any particular object. A horse once thoroughly frightened will never forget it, and if ho sees the object of his flight again you can depend upon a broken wagon. About two years ago a wealthy gentleman in Baltimore was driving along when a man on a bicycle dashed by and frightened the . horse so that he ran away. I was sent for to break him of the habit, ami I took a bicycle and showed it to him in every conceivable way. I placed it on his back and whirled the wheels around in Iront of him. The animal became ac customed to it and understood that the bicycle would not harm him, and after chat he was not afraid A horse is an animal of strong prejudices. He either likes or dislikes a thing, and it is a dilli i cult matter to break him of a prejudice ' it it be of long standing.” “What kind of horses are the easiest j to train?” "Well, there is no breed of horsei that I tin be considered more intelligent than others, but if 1 wanted a horse to train I would select an ordinary animal that, showed signs of intelligence. Never select a thoroughbred. By nature they are restless and impatient, eager to jump over an obstacle and al ways anxious to dart away. An intelligent horse, of no particular pedi gree, will be more observing and will look before he leaps. Circus horses are I nearly all of an ordinary breed, slow, ' but deliberate in every movement. That kind of a horse you can teach, but never by whipping him. It is a great mistake to suppose that you can compel a horse to do anything. If he be obstinate you can do more with him by trying to make him do the opposite thing. I had a horse once that I got for a very low tig- j ure. It was a very fine animal, but it ■ had one great fault, it would stop just I because it wanted to be contrary. I did not attempt to beat it, but 1 just sat down and let it see that I was not anxious to go ahead, and it would start too. Such a proceeding was very annoy ing at times, but after a while the horse forgot all about his bad habit, and it was a very valuable animal.” “What indications are there of intel ligence about a horse?” “Well, a good horse has small, point- I ed ears, with a fine growth of hair on the inside, with a broad head and very broad between the eyes. Some intelli gent horses have a narrow nose and thick nostrils. Horses for family use should have large brains. That denotes great i intelligence and powers of endurance, i A horse that is required for heavy work | should have a short backbone and should ' be ‘closely jointed.’ Fine hair denotes a long life.” “Should ahorse be clipped during the winter?” “Well, that is a mooted question, j Some horsemen contend that if a horse ; becomes overheated and is allowed to re- ! main in the stable over night he is likely to remain damp, but if he is clipped he , will soon dry off. That is all very well I so far as it goes, but if care is taken with a horse he will be rubbed dry before he is put into the stable. Nature provides , horses with a thick coat and Ido not I think it is right to cut it off.” “Are ponies easy to train?” “No, they are very difficult animals to I teach. They are frisky and full of play, I and make better playthings than any thing else. A real mustang is a knowing little animal. It is wonderful the clever ; tricks they do when they are on the prai ries in the West. People do not believe it, but the mulo is an intelligent animal. He is slow and sometimes obstinate, but can be trained to do some very clever things. Trainers have not experimented with mules very much, because they are i handled by inexperienced drivers, and arc used in carts, and at other rough work. They are cautious and slow, and for that reason they are very good for mountainous districts; but make no mis take, a mule has more intelligence than he is given credit for.” The Fastest Trotting Record. A correspondent of the Chicago Jour nal writes: The following is a statement of the best trotting time on record at all distances and at all ways of going: Trotting in harness, one mile—Maud 8, at Cleveland, August 2, 1884, 2:09 3-4—the fast est mile ever trotted and the fastest first hoet. One mile—Maud S, at Buffalo, August 4, 1881; 2:10 3-4—the fastest second heat ever trotted. One mile—Maud S, at Chicago, July 23, 1881; 2:11 —the fastest third heat ever trotted. One mile—Maud 8, at Chicago, July 24, 1880 ; 2:13 1-2—the fastest heat in races against other horses. One mile—Maud S,at Belmont Park,Phila delphia, July 28, 1881:2:12, 2:13 1-4,2:12 1-2 —the fastest three consecutive heats ever trotted. One mile —Phallas, at Chicago, July 14, 1884; 2.13 3-4—the fastest fourth heat ever trotted. One mile—Smuggler, 'at Cleveland, July 27, 1870; 2:17 1-2—the fastest fifth heat ever trotted. Ono mile —Charlie Ford, at Hartford, Au gust 25, 1880; 2-19 1-2-the fastest sixth heat over trotted. One mile by a yearling—Hinda Rose, at San Francisco, November 24, 1881; 2:36 1-2 the best on record. One mile by 2-year-old—Wild Flower, at San Francisco, October 22, 1881; 3:2l—the best on record. Ono mile by 3-year-old—Hinda Rose, at Lexington, Ky., October 10, 1883; 2:19 1-2 the fastest ever trotted at that age. One mile by a 4 year-old—Benita, at Lex ington, Ky., October 11,1883: 2:18 3-4. One mile by a 5-year old—Jay-Eyo-Seo, at Providence, September 15, 1883; 2:10 3-4 best on record. One mile over half-mile track—Rarus, at Toledo, July 20, 1878 ; 2:lo—it never was beaten. Ono mile—-Jay-Eye-Seo, at Belmont Park, August 15,1.884—fastest two consecutive heats; 2:11 and 2:10 1-2. One mile, fastest four consecutive heats— Gloster, at Rochester, August 14, 1874; 2:18, 2:17 3 4. 2:17, 2:l9the first being a dead heat with Re t Cloud; and Goldsmith Maid, at Hartford, August 31, 1870; 2:16 3-4, 2:17 1-4, 2:18, 2:19 3-4, the first being a dead heat with Smuggler. Two miles—Monroe Chief, at Lexington, October 21, 1882 ; 4:40. Throe miles—Huntress, at Prospect Park, | September 23, 1872; 7:21 1-4. Four miles Trustee, at Union Course, June 13, l.Sl'.i; 11:06' Five miles—Lady Mack, at San Francisco, April 2, 1874; 13:00. Ten miles—Controller, at San Francisco, November 23, 1878 : 27:23 1-4. Twelve miles—Top Gallant,at Philadelphia, 1830 ; 38:00. Fifteen miles—Girder, at San Francisco, AugustO, 1874; 40:20. Twenty miles—Captain McGowan, at Bos ton, October 31, 180.3; 58:25. Fifty miles—Ariel, at Albany, 1846; 3:55:40 1-2. Ono hundred miles —Conqueror, at Long Island, November 12, 1853 ; 8:55:53. One hundred and one miles —Fanny Jenks, I at Albany, 1845; 9:12:57. To wagon—One mile—Hopeful, at Chicago, j October 12, 4878 ; 2:16 1-2, the fastest heat over trotted and the fastest first heat. One I mile—Hopeful, October 12, 1878 ; 2:17, the I fastest second heat. One mile—Hopeful, I October 12, 1878; 2:17, tho fastest third heat I One mile, drawing 2,000 pounds—Mountain Maid, nt Long Island, 1805 ; 3:24 1-2. How ; is that for trotting! Two miles—General i Butler at Long Island,Juno 18,1863,first heat, 4:50 1-4; Dexli'r, at Long Island, October 27, 1803, second heat. 4:50 1-4. Three miles — Kimble Jackson, at Union Course, June 1, 18.33; 8:03. Founniles —Longfellow, at San Francisco, December 31,1809; 10:34 1-2. Five miles—Little Mack, at Fashion Course. Long Island, October 29, IMVJ; 13:43 1-2. Twenty miles—Controller,at San Francisco, April 20, 1878; 58:57. Fifty miles—Spangle, October 15. 1855 ; 3:59:04. Trotting double teams, one hundred miles Master Burke and Robin, 10:17:22. Trotting under saddle: One mile —Great i Eastern, at Fleetwood Bark, New York, Sep tember 22, 1877; 2:15 3-1. Two miles—George I M. Patehen, at Fashion Course, Long Island, July 1. 1863: 4:50. Three miles—Dutchman, at Beacon Course, New Jersey, August 1, 1839; 7:32 1 Four miles —Dutchman, at Centerville, Long Island, May 18, 1836; 10:51 Now, Mr. Editor, people who owi trotters can judge how good a one they own by looking over the above record- You often hear people say they have a | horse that can trot twenty five miles an hour without any trouble. Let them try it. Shells that Travel. The great conch or strombus has a veritable sword that it thrusts out, sticks into the ground, and by muscular efforts jerks itself along, making a decided leap. The squids—that are the bright est forms of mollusks—leap entirely clear of tho water, often several feet. They are ink-bearers, and from their ink-bag comes the sepia used by artists, while their bone is the cuttlefish bone of com merce. Many of the cockels have a method of flying through the water that is quite novej. They are generally beau tifully colored, and have long, streaming tentacles,and suddenly, without warning, they dart up from the bottom, and by a violent opening and shutting of their valves they rush away, with their long, reddish hair streaming after them, pre senting a very curious appearance. The shell known as the Lina Nians is partic ularly remarkable for these flights, and all the scallops are jumpers and leapers. When placed in a boat they have been known to leap out, and the ordinary scallop has been known to jump out of a pot when placed upon a stove. The Russian Army. The strength of the Russian army on a war footing, according to the returns of the ministry of war, was as follows in 1883: REGULAR ARMY. Infantry 1,970,801 Cavalry 95,560 Artillery 211,708 Engineers 43,407 2,321,476 IRREGULAR ARMY. Infantry 9,610 Cavalry 158,270 Artillery 12,700 180,580 Grund total 2,502,056 Among the irregular troops of Russia the most important are lhe Cossacks. A resident of Stockton, Cal., died re cently of lockjaw, being the last of four brothers, all of whom died of the same affliction. TOPICS OF THE DAT. Engineering in China has certainly achieved a notable triumph in the bridge at Lagang over an arm of tho China sea. This structure is five miles long, built enirely of stone, has 300 arches, 70 feet high; the roadway is 70 feet wide, and the pillars are 75 feet apart. The Pacific Medical Journal, refer ring a recent writer who asserts that Maine lumbermen are free from dys pepsia because they are in the habit of using chewing gum, says that “if he would add to his suggestion of chew ing gum that of becoming a lumber man, the remedy would be very ef fective.” Some of the Japanese almost wor ship cats. A feline funeral in great style is reported by a correspondent. The coffin of the defunct pussy was cov ered with a white silk pall, and a body of chanting priests followed the cor tege to the grave. In due course of time a monument was erected,on which were inscribed the many virtues of the cat. Russia has more soldiers and more ships of war than any other country in the world. In her standing army there are 780,000 men, and she has 358 ships in her navy. It costs $125,000,- 000 a year to keep her military estab lishment on a peace footing, and her military authorities say they can place 2,300,000 trained men under arms in war time. There are about 125 German recruits in the Chinese army,all of whom have been compelled to adopt Chinese names, such as Wang Li Triang or the Great Wall. The pay of these recruits is very high, ranging from S2OO to S3OO a month; and in addition the Chinese government has promiabd to pay to the representative of any German who may be killed in action the sum of SOOOO. Recruits are also called for in the Chinese navy, the inducement be ing an annual salary of $3600 and a life policy for a large amount. Temperance work in Great Britain is carried on with great vigor. The Church of England Temperance So ciety has branches in thirty of the thirty-two dioceses and a membership of nearly 600,000. The Church of Ireland has a strong society, as have also the Wesleyans, Free Methodists, Congregationalists and the several rail way companies. There are many Bands of Hope, some of which have a total abstinence membership of 15,- 000 and 20,000 each. Eleven of the leading temperance societies had an income last year of over $250,000, all of which was expended in temperance work. Deistarianism is a new religion for mulated by Marvin Fosdick, of Kala mazoo, .Mich. It seems to have struck out a new path in its religious vocabu lary. Its congregations, when it gets them, will be known ;s “polimons;’’ its preachers are to be called “denzees.” A church service is a “doktil.” “I)o --tem” means to preach; "lokan” is a s ermon; “I’ote” is God; “stian” is a church building, and the salary of the “denzee” is known as “valoon.” Mr Fosdick has also adopted a new chro nology and a new method of spelling to go with his religion. As for his re ligion itself, it is based largely on the moral law as revealed by the con science, and repudiates all the distinc tive doctrines of Christianity, such as baptism, prayer, the Bible and Christ. The author states that the Deistarian religion is the best religion for this life, and as good as any for the life to come. lie publishes a call for “den zees, ’ but none who use tobacco or in toxicating liquors, or who gamble, are eligible to this office. “Oil-Scouting.” “Oil-scouting” is an iudustrj’ devel oped by the wildcat enterprises in the oil regions of Pennsylvania during the past two or three years. Tho owners of a well frequently make a “mystery” of it, by boarding up the derrick and guarding it night and day. They are thus enabled to keep to themselves all knowledge as to its value as a producer, and thus to operate in the certificate ■ irket from an advantageous stand- : it. When a well in what is con red an important new territory is !e a mystery, the brokers and other i ators at once become anxious to <.uow whether it is really a good pro ducer or only a “dry hole.” To obtain this information, they employ men thoroughly skilled, in all matters per taining to the oil industry, and pos sessing courage, endurance and shrewd ness, to scout around the mystery wells and learn their true character. These men use strategy, bribery, and even force, to gain their ends. They compile statistics of production, the state of field operations, probabilities of now territory, and all matters of in terest or importance to the newspapers, brokers, and large producing firms. Some work for salaries running as high as SSO per week, while others re ceive a share in the profits which may result from operations based upon the information obtained by them. In this way some have made considerable fortune, almost at a stroke. Their work is of a particularly dangerous nature, as the men who guard the wells are armed with rifles, and under positive orders to shoot any one dis covered loitering about the propeity at night.