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Vt F. SMITH, D. J. THAXTON & $. J. SMITH, Publishers,
SCHOOL'S TOO KEN UP.
Thf boys have come back to their schools.
Ah. me!
To violate trrammar and rules
So free.
The lawless joke, and the stealthy *rin
I he ciinjfinjr wax, and the crooked pin
Jhe capsized ink, and the whispered din
Ah, me!
The faces chalked on the outer walls
I see; ’
-iiid the coiling; stuccoed with paper balls
rp. . Ah, mel
Thn B , h ' in, ' r ' on the gritty floor,
-i ! 1 k ,X f " Cf ‘ !,t Hie door,
the sudden pinchund the muffled roar.
Ah. me!
The questions brisk and the answers slow,
Ah, me!
The “ I turgor and the “ I dun’no "
dust seel
„ fou r seven is twenty-nine;”
Kornc is a town on the River Rine-”
Occrge is a verb ’n agrees with wine.”
Ah, me!
Grimace and giggle, grin and wick,
Rear mel
Huzzuntl whisper—who can think?
~, ~ , Ah, mel
1 It be a better rule
*>oy grow up a fool,
Rufnor than send him back to school
And me?
—Burlington Hawkeue.
A BIG NUGGET.
Two Hundred and Twenty-seven Pounds
of Solid Gold.
In the early times in California claims
were small and road-agents numerous,
and men, if they found a nugget of ex
traordinary size, were afraid their
ground might he jumped or themselves
robbed ami perhaps murdered going
below, and thus kept the largest goli]
finds a secret until they could get out
ot the mountains and the State. r l he fol
lowing facts, that have never before been
in print, I came across in a most singu
lar way, and I can rely on tne word of
the narrator: In 1851 and 1852 I
mined with a man from Massachusetts
named John Ihage on several Hats and
placers around Down eville and the
Middle Yuba. In 1852 I lost sight of
him, but heard that he had gone East.
In 1858 l went with the rush to British
Columbia, and worked out a good
claim, an 1 then took atrip to Australia.
In going from Sydney up to the in nes
we camped on a creek by the roadside,
where a great many teams stopped on
their up and down trips, as water sup
ply in that dry climate was a long way
apart. The great teams and American
wagons arrived along toward evening
on the creek in a perfect stream.
As we were eating supper we heard
a teamster's voice that I thought was
familiar, and driving into camp, I
strolled among the teams, and almost
the first man I met was my old Downie
ville partner. He was most glad to see
me, and I being so recently from
Downieville ho requested me to call
after he had fed his animals and eaten
bis own meal, to talk over old times in
( alilornia. He owned the whole titout
that lie was driving—was freighted up,
earning hides, tallow and other co
lonial product•; on his own account for
back freight. He had married in the
country, and was doing a profitable
business with his team.
Alter talking of old times here in Cal
fornia, the whereabouts of old friends
and acquaintances, he said: “By the
by, (ieorge, you never knew why or how
1 left California so suddenly.” I an
swered, “No;” but he had not slipped
from my memory; but many men in the
mines like ourselves were missed, and
often turned up thousands otnvlesawav.
He said: “I can give you the eventful
story now.
“Well, when we worked together in
the summer of ’f>2 on the Middle Yuba
1 heard you tell of the rich claim and
coarse gold you found on Slate C’istle
Ravine on the South Fork, one mile
above Downieville. Myself and Bill'
Hopkins, together with a tier man
partner, went qu etlv to work in the
summer of \W, and oeeupie 1 an old
cabin that had been deserted and the
ground abandoned. We stripped the
claim in another direction, and canto
across the lead containing coarse gold,
as you ha 1 described, and made for two
weeks per day per man fr un one to
three ounces. The ground was getting
deeper and heavy to strip, and l started
a small drift to see how wide the lead
was befote we stripped further ahead.
It. was Saturday, about noon. The
ground continued still to pay, and we
were down in a soft slate crevice, when
1 struck the pick into a bright lump of
gold that seemed to run into the solid
gravel. 1 tried to prv it out, but it was
too firmly imbedded. Then 1 worked
carefully around it, and it appeared to
grow larger as 1 dug the gravel away.
We placed one v n the lookout to see
that no one surprised us and I tell you
we were startled; and after some time I
got it loose, and by hard lifting, and
there it lay, almost pure gold, nearly
the shape of a heart, and it titled ex
actlv the bottom of the crevice. The
quartz attached to it was crystallized,
and would not exceed three pounds in
weight. We got it in the cabin as quick
as possible, in a sack, and placed it
under one of the bunks, intending to ex
amine it more thoroughly at night,
“We staid away from town on Satur
day and Sunday, and brought it out at
night to feast our eves upon it again,
and each guessed it would weigh at
least two hundred pounds. We con
eluded not to take it to town to weLh.
but divide it some way; for if it were
known there would be intense excite
ment. We had gold scales, but they
would only weigh only one and a half
pounds. Aft,N time spent in con
sultation Bill lasting# suggested a
rough | air of original scales; we piled
on rock and iron weighed by the gold
scales till we got the balance, and the
nugget brought down two hundred and
thirty-one pounds gold weight. Me
bur ed the quartz, and thoroughly
picked it out with the point of a knife;
the pure gold brought down two hun-
ffffffffffffff
dred and twenty-seven pounds, and the
grand specimen looked more beautiful
than ever. If we had taken it to the
I on ion express office there would have
been the wildest excitement. On Mon
day we cleaned up the remainder of the
crevice, an I it paid well, but to us the
pay now seemed small in comparison.
Now each had enough. We had at
least $50,000 to divide, enough to make
n 1 three comfortably rich. No doubt
we could have made more by exhibiting
it. but we could not run the risk. We
came to the co.iclus on to cut t up it
vide it, roll each ore's share up i’ ki
own blankets, and start for thf
steamer to Panama and the All tut <•
States. 1 we tto town <> , .u , ,
evening, got a sharp eohi-. i.i
to cut and divide lh • . r /•■ i;
shares, and it took ns about :d n
cut and weigh it with our rude apoli
ances. 1 ‘
“It seems like vandalism to destroy
the grandeur of such a precious speci
men of Nature's work. At the first
b ow O; the chisel it sank deep into the
pure yellow meta', it was so soft and
3 iel( ling. Before daylight we had com
pleted our singular dividend. We caved
‘town the bank near the mouth of the
drilt, took a brief sleep, got breakfast,
rolled tip our blankets, and passed
through town early, net caring to hid
any one good-by, and then no explana
tions were required. We left the cabin
and everyth ng tor the first lucky ones
to possess. There was plenty more
gold, no doubt, for the ground we left
contained big pay; but we had $16,000
or $17,000 ea h, and we were satisfied
with our good fortune. We tried to
appear like three prospectors, carrying
our blankets, and passed Goodyear Hill
and the dreaded Nigger Tent (then the
beat of the road agents), and hurried to
Sail Francisco, arrived in time to board
the next steamer, and landed safely in
New York, I have many a time regret
ted the way we destroyed that natural
gold specimen, perhaps the largest ever
lound in the world, in ancient or modern
times.
“\\ hen I returned to Downieville
after fourteen years’ absence, I visited
old Slate Castle Kavine and tried it once
more, but twenty years had nearlv ex
hausted its riches; still I tried," and
made small wages, but its glory had de
parted. My old partner, Dodge, was
an earnest, truthful man. I bel’eve
tons of gold were carried below in early
times by tlie lucky ones, and all kinds
of advices were adopted to evade the
highwaymen, and often large parties
went below together, well armed and,
perhaps, many a large nugget, besides
millions of dollars in gold dust, never
saw the light until it was safely de
posited in the banks or mints of the At
lantic States.”— Downieville, (Cal.) Mes
senger.
Tho Guatemala Boundary.
From that epoch which was signal
ized by the fall of the ephemeral empire
of Iturbide until the signing of the re
cent treaty between Mexico and Guate
mala, the people of these two countries
have been engaged in a constant dipute
concerning the true bondarv line be
tween the republics. Several times com
missioners from either country had
traced the boundary line, and definitely
marked the northern limit of the ambi
tious little nation, but as often Guate
mala refused to acknowledge the de
cision of the arbitrators. When Gen.
Barrios had destroyed or intimidated
the enemies of public peace and begun
the work of reforming and and regen
erating Guatemala, his Government re
newed this vexed question, and began
persecuting Mexican citizens who re
sided in the territory in dispute. The
property of Don Matias Romero, Mexi
can Minister at Washington, was de
str>yedbythe troops of the Guatema
lan Dictator several years ago, and Mr.
Romero’s losses amounted to a large
sum. Nor was he the only victim. Many
other Mexican citizens were ruined by
raiding parties from Guatemala, and
several times Mexico was on the point
of declaring war against her trouble
some neighbor.
The boundary line claimed by Mexico
is the same that lias since been conceded
by Guatemala. Thus a sanguinary war
and complications with our own Gov
ernment has been avoided by the firm
ness of the Mexican President, the states
manship and tact of the Mexican Sec
retary of State, and the diplomacy and
good management of the Mexican Min
ister at Washington. Now both Mexico
and Guatem ila are rid of this “bug
bear” of a war-cloud that constantly
hung suspended over them, and are at
last on friendly terms. The work of re
form that has been going on in Guate
mala for the past few years will be con
tinued. Mexico, which has made such
vast strides forward in the path of po
litical and material reform, at peace
with the entire world, can also devote
her attention to the grateful task of de
veloping her vast internal resources and
retie dating her beautiful territory with
iron bands.
While the American people have the
deepest interest in the welfare of Mexi
co, and rejoice that she has at length,
under the progressive rule of Porfirio
Diaz and (ten. Gonzalez, assumed a
proud position in the sisterhood of na
tions. they are also pleased that mod
erate councils have prevailed in Gaute
mtvan Government circles, and that
wan, which once seemed so imminent,
ha • been averted by the prudence and
good sense of the statesmen of both
countries. —New Orleans Times-Demo
crat.
—To make a good liniment that
should be kept on hand ready for use in
cases of bruises or sprains: Add one
half ounce of oil of wormwood to four
ounces of alcohol.
Devoted to Industrial Interest, (lie Diffn?iß of Truth, the Establishment of Justice, and the Preservation of a Peoples’ Government.
Spoopendyke Crab-Fishing,
Coming up the river the other day,
[ saw a middle-aged gentleman in a
ping hat and business suit seated in a
scow beside an attractive lady, feeling
ground among a lot of strings pendant
from the side of the boat, and warning
;he lady that she could not keep too
quiet.
“ Now, my dear,” observed the gen
tleman, “don’t you move, because I teei
a crab on this line. I’ll pull him up
until he is in sight and then you slip the
net under him. Seep”
“ Yes, dear,” replied the lady, a
little flustered as she contemplated her
share of the performance. “But, Mr.
Spoopendyke, what shall I do when I
get the net under him?”
“ Scalp him!” retorted Mr. Spoopen
dyke, drawing slowly on the line. “Now
wait, he’s there,” and Mr. Spoopen
dyke became even more cautious in his
movements. “See him! There he is!
Scalp him, quick!”
Mrs. Spoopendyke iabbed the net
into the water and swashed around
with great vigor.
“ What ye doing?” yelled Mr.
Spoopendyke, straightening up and
glaring at her, as the crab struck a line
for Newark Bay. “What’d ye think I
had there, the bottom of the river?
What’d ye suppose ye was trying to
catch, a church? Take it out! * Give it
here!” and he grasped the lady around
the waist and took the net awav from
her.
“Did I scalp him?” asked Mrs.
Spoopendyke, flushed with her exer
tions and trembling with her excite
ment. “Show him tome! let me see
what he looks like!”
“ Look* like! ” roared Mr. Spoopen
dyke. “He looks like Sandy Hook by
this time! Why didn’t you scalp him?
What’s the matter with you?”
“I—l couldn’t tell which was his
head,” faltered Mrs. Spoopendyke, who
hadn’t seen anything at all. “Pull him
up again, and you’ll see if I don’t
scalp the last hair on his skull!”
The English language lost its last
charm for Mr. Spoopenkyke, and he
turned to his strings with a withering
look of contempt for his wife.
“Now you be careful,” he said at
length. “Here’s another varmint, and
you musn’t let him get away. When I
say ‘Scalp!’ you shove the net under
him and just bring him aboard.”
“Can you see him yet?” asked Mrs.
Spoopendyke, waving the net over her
head and peering into the water.
“Wait! Yes, there he is! Careful,
remember. Now, scalp!”
He must have been a crab of phe
nomenal scholastic advantages to have
gotten rid of that swoop,for Mrs. Spoop
endyke, with a view to redeeming her
self,went for the end of the string blind
ly, but with a strength of purpose that
made failure impossible. She not only
got the crab, but she slammed net,
crab and all over Mr. Spoopendyke’s
head.
‘What—wah-h !!” shrieked that
gentleman, as he felt himself im
pounded.
“Lost him again!” exclaimed Mrs.
Spoopendyke. who hadn’t the remotest
idea what a crab looked like. “Why,
dear, what’s that awful big spider in
the net! Good gracious!”
“Take it off!” howled Mr. Spoopen
dyke. “Take it—wow! the thing has
got me by the ear! Haul him off, will
ye?”
Mrs. Spoopendyke dropped the han
dle of the net as if it were an old-fash
ioned bonnet, and gazed upon her hus
band in consternation.
“Gast the crab!” yelled Mr. Spoop
endyke, tearing the net away. “Let go,
ye brute! Wah-ha!” and the unfortu
nate man wrenched the fish from off his
ear and dashed it in the bottom of the
boat. “What’s your scheme in doing
that?” he demanded, holding his ear
with one fist and shaking the other at
his wife. “Think you’ve got to eat ’em
right out of the water? Got a notion
that he came up cooked and you must
down him quick or he’ll spoil P” yelled
Mr. Spookendyke, enraged beyond all
control by the sight of the carnage that
trickled down his fingers. “What’d ye
mean by itP” and he sprang into the
air and alighted on the unhappy crab,
slipping up and sprawling full length in
the bottom of the boat.
“ Was that a orab. dear?” asked Mrs.
Spoopendyke, assisting her husband to
arise and contemplating 'the mangled
fish with favor. “Is that
what you call a crabP I thought—”
“ You thought!” ripped Mr. Spoop
endyke, kicking at the bewildered crab.
“That’s the trouble with you—you think!
Did ye think I was going to stind
here and let that crab chew on my ear
till his legs ached? P’raps ye thought
he was whispering to nc! * Maybe ye
thoug v ‘ he was telling me a funny sto
ry ! Well, he wasn’t, and if he was his
voice was so hoarse I couldn’t enjoy it!
Ye thought, did ye!” squealed Mr.
Spoopendyke, his wrath rising as the
pain and fear subsided; “thought a
crab talked with his toes, like some wo
men think, did ye! Oh, you thought! If
I had such a head as that I’d fit it up
with shuck beds and a stick of gum and
start a female boarding-school! With
your ability to think, you only need a
squint and*four long words to be a Con
cord School of .Philosophy!” and Mr.
Spoopendyke plunged the oars into the
water and began to row vigorously.
“ Where are you going, dear?”‘asked
Mrs. Spoopendyke, timidly, after her
husband had pulled hard tor sometime.
“ Home!” grinned Mr. Spoopendyke,
with a horrible expression of visage.
“ I’m going home to show the people
how much damage a rusticating idiot
asylum can do with one measly crab
when she pins herself down to it!”
“Of course,” assented Mrs. Spoop-
JACKSON, GEORGIA.
endyfce, humbly, “Put say, dear,
wouldn’t you get on faster if you untied
the boat?”
Mr. Spoopendyke turned and gave a
sharp look at the bow. Then he hauled
his hat down over his ears, stepped
ashore and struck out at a brisk waiK.
“ l don’t know,” sighed Mrs. Spoop
endyke, as I took her boat in tow, “I
don’t know, but I don’t think I care
much for crabbing, though I’m not sure
but what it’s more fun than walking
home on the wrong side of the river with
no bridge within seven miles either
way)” —Brooklyn Eagle.
Applying yannre.
Some farmers (or who pretend to be
farmers) scoff at the idea of improving
the production of prairie soil by stable
and barn-yard manures. This is only
the outcroping of shiftless and improvi
dent farmers. Others never have any
time to haul out manure. In the winter
it is frozen in a solid mass,so that it can
not be moved. In the spring the ground
is so soft that it is almost impossible to
haul it, and making mortar of the soil
to be farmed. In the summer there is
no place to spread it, as the crops oc
cupy the ground. In the fall—well, what
is in the way now? It is probable, how
ever, that the manure pile has been
bleached and soaked in sun and rains
until there is none of the virtue left in
it. It has been filtered by the heavy
summer rains until it is not worth any
thing.
The right way is to haul out manure
as it accumulates, when it is fresh and
valuable. Then the soil, just where you
wanx it, gets the leechings. Keep st allies
and yards clear during the winter. Take
it to the fields before it freezes. Then
ihe farm gets the full benefit. Keep up
the practice in the spring. The current
accumulations can be taken out, if the
soil is muddy. And a good farmer can
always find a place to spread usefully
the summer manure. It is fashionable
for farmers to ride in their wagons to
the fields when plowing. The manure
can be as easily thrown into the wagon
in the morning, when cleaning stable
or cow yards, as it can be thrown in a
heap to waste. Take it daily to the field,
and it is a rare thing if a good place can
not be found for it.
But if it has accumulated during win
ter, spring and summer, now is the
time to haul it out, if it is not worth half
price. In the older parts of the United
States good stable manure sells for
eigl;t dollars per cord, and the farmers
find that it is profitable to pay that for
it, and haul ten or twenty miles. Some
men let manure accumulate until they
have to move their stables. But this
cla*s generally soon move to Kansas or
Nebrasl a, as mortgages accumulate
about their farms as fast as manure
piles about their stables.— lowa State
I'egiskr.
Cuiing Hay.
The question of whether hay could
not be cured by other than the common
and often destructive method now in
vogue is being closely investigated by
the experts and farmers of England.
Tho old and original method was to
let the grass first get well ripened, then
cut it with the reaping hook or scythe,
turn it with the fork to dry
or ripen in the sun and the next day put
it in cocks. After a few days make the
wh</h* into stacks or ricks, or put it in
the barn.
After this came mowing machines,
horse-rakes, tedders,self-loading wagons
and hay-forks, and tackling for unload
ing and. placing the hay in the barn or
ricks.
Under the first s}*s em there was often
heavy loss and always some injury from
exposing the grass so long to the
weather, which could not always be de
p nded upon. Modern appliaiv es h ve
materially hasten and the process of get
ting the hay cured and iu the barn, but
with continuous wet weather there is
still much risk that should if possible be
avoided. To overcome this troub’e
many experiments arc now under trial
with more o le-s success. One method
proposed is to stack the grass while per
fectly green, with considerable layers of
straw between layers of the grass, with
an open passage in the center o' the
stack for the moisture to pass out. This
has not been discovered to prevent a
certain amount of mold forming on the
hay.
Machinery with drying apparatus at
tachment has been tried, but not suili
cientlv economical and expeditious to
prove a success. Farmers, however,
should put their wits to work to com
pass this subject, for it will neve dolor
all time to let the hay crop, the most im
portant one often on the farm, be en
tirely at the mercy of a spell of bad
weather that is liable to come at the
time it is most hurtful. American
Dainmia .
A steamer that was sunk in eighty
/eet of water two years ago in Lake
Huron has been raised, and her cargo,
consisting of '.OO barrels of porter, fifty
cases of gin, and 100 cases of brandy,
ail imported goods, has been found un
harmed. and. having lain so long under
water, has escaped duty. The present
owners paid s*4ooo for the steamer and
cargo, and tf i.OOO for the work of raising.
chicaao H> ml<L
—Mr. P. T. Barnum has given large
burial lots in Mountain Grove Cemetery,
Bridgeport, Conn., to the firemen and
the Grand Army of the Republic of that
city. The fire department had request
ed him to lecture in behalf of their
effort to procure a fund for the purpose,
and he replied that he had frequently
to’d the people of Bridgeport about all
he .new* (and not much at that), and
mu't decline boring them with a lec
ture, but he would give the firemen a
iot.
The Alexandria Massacre.
An Arab Christian family consisting
of four adults and four children, who
were driven out of Alexandria, arrived
in this port on Saturday and are now
lodged at Castle Garden. The adults
include a woman. All are clad in
European attire, and compared with
the emigrants of other nationalities sur
rounding them, prevent a very superior
appearance. One of the men, Mohanna
Baraka, speaks English well, and acting
as interpreter for the party told a
Graphic reporter a story of rare interest
this morning in connection with the re*
cent stirring events in Egypt. His mod
esty of manner and the deportment of
the whole of this little band of refugees
were such as to impress one with the
honesty of the statement.
Mohanna Baraka said he was an Arab
Christian, having lived in Alexandria all
his life. As far back as he knew his
ancestors were Christians. They were
all Presbyterians, having been converted
by English and American missionaries
One of his eafliest friends was the Rev.
David Strang, now of Lincoln, Tenn.,
but twenty-tive years ago a missionary
in Alexandria. The speaker learned
English and became a teacher in the
missionary schools. He was teaching a
Bible class on Sunday, the 11th of June,
the day upon which the lirst outbreak in
Alexandria occurred. All the membe s
of his family, including several aged
people, were in attendance that after
noon. The services were proceeding
with the usual decorum, when suddenly
the father of one of the pupils entered
the school, and, after announcing the
fact of the outbreak, took his child home
with him. The school was located in
t he section of the city known as Bactaria,
or the Jewish quarter. The teachers
tried to quell all fears, but noises were
heard in the streets, and as they grew
louder something like a panic ensued.
The children were badly frightened, the
women fearful and the men nervous.
School was hastily dismissed and all ad
vised to go home. The speaker with
the members of his family acted on this
advice. Before they had gone very far,
however, they were met by a party of
Mohammedan soldiers who, shouting:
“Down with the Christian dogs?”
charged on them. They would undoubt
edly have been killed had not the
speaker’s brother-in-law, one of the
party in Castle Garden, interfered. He
was not known to be a Christian and
lie threw himself in front of the family,
commanding the soldiers to desist.
They obeyed the command, and the
family escaped uninjured. The advent
ure filled them all with terror, and they
made their way home as quickly as pos
sible, reaching it in safety. To do so,
however, they were obliged to avoid
the sight of other Mohammedan soldiers
who were rushing through the streets
bent on murder and plunder.
The adventures of this family formed
part of the inauguration of the terrible
massacre that took place in the fairest
part of the city before sunset the same
day. The soldiers encountered by them
upon leaving the Sunday-school were
on their way to the carnage, but had as
yet probably killed no one! The speak
er said that if they had spilled one drop
of blood before meeting his family the
latter would not have escaped torture
and death.
Towards dusk, the speaker said, the
city was quiet. The reign of terror
seemed to be over. He had not him
self witnessed the awful deeds of the
semi-savage soldiers, but the brother-in
law who had acted so heroically near
the Sunday-school saw many of them.
Other members of the family also saw
Europeans bayoneted before their eyes.
They described the scenes as too terri
ble to ever forget. Men shrieked and
cursed, and women wailed and went
mad with horror. The streets ran red
with blood, and the soldiers whose faces
and hands were smeared with it looked
like fiends.
When the day’s work was done Gov
ernment employes ran about the city to
inform the populace that all need of
fear was over. The Europeans were
housed by that time, and could hardly
be assured that their lives were not
still in jeopardy. They had no faith in
the power of the Government to subdue
so ferocious and sudden an outbreak.
They began to venture out, however,
and it was then that the speaker saw
hundreds of corpses carted to the sea
and thrown in. He at once determined
to leave the country forever. It was
difficult, however, to get passage away.
The fifth day after the massacre found
him and his family on a steamer bound
for Malta. Thence they journeyed to
Marseilles and Bordeaux, embarking at
the latter place on the 30th of last
month for this city.
Where he will go to settle he has not
yet decided. The children speak a little
English, but the other adults only Ara
bic. While conversing with the report
er, Mohanna Baraka received a letter
from Rev. Mr. Strang, written in Ara
bic. The reverend gentleman had been
apprised of their arrival. While Bara
ka read the letter to the family they
grouped themselves about him, form
ing a very interesting picture. Their
6ott manners and genteel appearance
have made them favorites with the Gar
den officials. In close proximity to
them sat a crowd of Turks, wearing the
fez and smoking vile tobacco. The
roughness and uncouthness of the latter,
their sinister faces and ignorance, con
trasted strangely with the appearance
of the Arabs, indicating probably the
difference between the influence of the
religion of the Cross as against that of
the Crescent,— N. Y. Graphic.
Although it is tnought that the pawn
broker is an imposition on the public,
still he will thrive so long as people con
tinue to “put up” with him.
SUBSCRIPTION—SI.6O.
VOL. X. NO. 12.
Professor Haeckel’s Life in Ceylon.
My great resource as an article of
diet, was the fruit which abounded at
every meal. Next to the bananas of
every variety, of which 1 consumed
several at every meal, my standing
dessert consisted of mangoes (Manqife
rn indie a), egg-shaped green fruit, from
three to six inches long; their cream
like golden pulp has a faint blit distinct
aroma of turpentine. The fruit of the
j assion-tlower (passi flora) was very
pleasant to my taste, reminding me of
the gooseberry. I was less pleased
with the renowned custard-apple, the
Amwna squamosa, and with the Indian
almond, the hard nut of the Terminalia
ca'appa. There are singularly few ap
ples and oranges in Ceylon; the latter
remain green, and are not juicy: but
want of cultivation is doubtless chiefly
answerable for the inferiority of this and
other fruits; the Singhalese aro far too
easy-going to make any progress in
horticulture. Refreshed with my mod
est repast, I employed the hot hours of
mid-day--from twelve to four o’clock
in anatomical or microscopic work in
making observations and drawings, and
in the preservation and storing of my
collected objects. The evening hours,
from four to six o’cloek. Were gen
erally occupied with some lovely
country excursion; sometimes I made
a water-color sketch, sometimes I
sought to perpetuate one of the
beautiful views in photography. Now
and then I shot apes and birds in the
woods, or collected insects and snails,
or hunted among the < oral reefs on the
shore, adding many curious objects to
mv (die tion. Richly laden, 1 re
turned to the Rest House an hour or
less before sunset, and worked for an
other hour at the preservation and ar
rangement of my specimens. At eight
o’clock my second chief meal, or din
ner, was served. The piece dc resist
ance at this* was again the inevitable
curry and rice, followed sometimes by
a fish or a crab, which I enjoyed im
mensely, and then by some dish com
posed of eggs or meal, and finishing
again with delicious fruit. * * *
The important question of “what to
drink” seemed likely at first to prove
a dillit ult one. The ordinary drinking
water of the low lands of Ceylon is
considered very bad and unwholesome,
the highlands, on the contrary, being
ri< h in springs of the purest and fresh
est water. The great rains which tall
daily on the island bring down a mass
of mineral and vegetable deposit into
the river-, and the stagnant water of
the lagoons is not unfrequently in eom
munii ation with them, it is not eus
tom.iiv to drink the water unless foiled
or made into tea, or with the addition
o claret or whisky. My friend Scott
had given me an abundant supply of
the last-named 1 eve age, but on the
whole I found no drink so pleasant and
re roshing, as wc'l as wholesome, as
the fresh milk of the cocoa-nut.
My frugal dinner at an end, I usually
took a solitary walk on the shore, or de
lighted my eyes with the sight of the il
lumination of the palm woods by
myriads of lire-tlies and glow-worms.
Then I made a few entries in my note
book or tried to read by the light of ft
cocoa-nut oil lamp. But \ was gener
aUy quite tired enough to go to bed soon
alter nine o’clock, after another careful
shaking of the clothes for the expulsion
of scorpions and millipeds.
'I he great black scorpion (nearly a
foot long) is so common in Ceylon that
1 once collected half a dozen in the
course of an hour. Snakes exist also in
great numbers. Slender green tree
snakes hang from almost every bough,
and at night the great rat-snake (Cory
pho ton Jilumcnhachii ) hunts rats and
mice over the roofs of the huts. Al
though they are harmless and their bite
not poisonous, it is by no means ft
pleasant surprise when one of these rat
snakes, live feet long, suddenly drops
through a hole in the roof into one’s
room, occasionally alighting on the bed.
On the whole, however, my nights ip
Belligam were but little disturbed by
animal intruders, although I was often
kept awake by the howfing of jaokals
and the uncanny cry of the Devil-bird
(a kind of owl, Surnium Indrani), and
other night-birds. The bell-cry of the
pretty little tree-frog, which make their
dwelling in the cups of large llowers,
acted rather a3 a slumber song. But I
was far oftener kept awake by the whirl
of my own thoughts, by the recoPec
tion of the many events of the past day,
and the anticipation of that which was
to come. A brilliant succession ' -
ly s enes, of interesting obserflUjJfcuu
and varied experiences mingled in mv
brain with plans of fresh enterprise and
new discoveries for the morrow.—
Deutsche Rundschau.
Cookery by Music.
It is a melancholy thing that the di
vine art of music should nave been de
graded to cul nary uses, but that a Ger
man, of all nationalities, should have
been the first so to employ it, is a still
deeper humiliation. A Prussian com
poser has given to the world an “Egg
Polka,” not named from any fancied re
semblance of properties, but for a rea
son fully explained in the “directions
for use” printed on the back of every
copy: “Let the polka be placed, open
at the first page, upon the piano forte
desk. Then drop the egg into a pipkin
half full of boiling water. Set the pip
kin on the fire. Then plaj r the polka
through in strict time, as per metro
nome indication. On completing its last
bar the egg will be cooked to a turn
that is, its yelk will be fluent, and its
white about as yielding to the touch as
the fiesh of a ripe plum. Those who
wish their eggs hard-set will play the
polka andante maestoso. The contrary
effect will be produced by an allegro vi
vace rendering of the composition.”