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She Pickett* Cotmtg fctdfo W. B. MINCEY, Editor. YOU. II. Three times ns much coal as ever be¬ fore wus imported into St. Petersburg last year, and a Russian Government com¬ mission is investigating the Russian mines to find out what ails them. It is always pleasant, observes the De¬ troit Free Press, to see things done in n business-like way. A Philadelphia law¬ yer collected a claim of $1500 for a client, made a charge of $400 for his ser¬ vices and then embezzled the remainder. An ordinary man of dishonest inclina¬ tions would have stolen the $1500 out¬ right. _ The Shah of Persia is, it is reported, looking forward with much eagerness to his advent iu England. His desire is not so much to undergo tho boredom of fes¬ tivals, balls and dinners, of which ho had anough to satisfy any reasonable Shah when he visited Queen Victoria some years ago, as it is to witness some first- class English horse races. lie was ex¬ pected to reach London in time to attend the Ascot races. The latest Government returns show that tho public debt of the Canadian Dominion is now $286,575,055, of which §188,713,035 is payable in England. The interest upon the enormous debt has to be sent across the Atlantic every year and is a serious drain upon the country’s monetary resources. Yet the legisla¬ tion of the last session of the Federal Parliament pledged the country to the expenditure of over $57,000,000, and next year’s revenue will not exceed $36,- 000,000, thus leaving $21,000,000 to be borrowed. The annual interest upon the Dominian debt is now about $13,000,000. The total revenue from customs aud excise twenty years ago was only $11,- 112,573._ When the history of the Panama Canal Company is written it will include many stories of extravagance such as one must go back to the time of Rome in,its de¬ cadence to parallel. One of the most characteristic instances of wastefulness was furnished by the General Superin¬ tendent, at Panama. He spent $300,000 on a fine house and nearly as much in opening up tine roads so that his wife might take horseback rides. She died in about two years, and to signalize his grief over her loss he had all the thor¬ oughbred horses shot which she had used in riding and driving. This imitation of the great Alexander didn’t cost the mourner anything, however, as tho horses all belonged to the company, and their loss was charged to the inexorable climate. The present forces of enlisted men in the United States Navy aggregates 8500 men. It is the opinion of Commodore Schley that a force of 15,000 men, or nearly 7000 additional, will be required to equip tho vessels already authorized by Congress. It is more than likely that an effort will be made to secure some sort of provision for these enlisted men in the Navy, so that the Government can com¬ mand the very best type of manhood for its sailors. The officers are already pro¬ vided for by the retired list. The last Congress arranged the saving-bank system, so that the money which was re¬ tained from the sailors until they were finally paid off could be deposited with the paymaster, and would draw four pel cent, interest. This money is nonforfeit¬ able for any cause except desertion. lOther steps iu behalf of the men are in (consideration. W. O. Atwater, in charge of the work at experiment stations established by the Agricultural Department, assisted by A. ,W. Harris and A. C. True of his division, is preparing a bulletin, which will be pub¬ lished this year, giving a history of the department- and a sketch of the progress of education in agricultural colleges and schools. Under this latter head tho sub¬ ject of agricultural instruction is discussed at length. It is acknowledged that the purpose for which agricultural colleges were established iu the several States, aud to which the Government contributed by liberal grants of land and money, has not been realized. The colleges do not edu¬ cate men for the farms,button-professions, and the tendency of their teachings has been to draw young men from their farms instead of fitting them for work on them. .The curriculum in most cases is too ex¬ tensive for the average farmer’s son to undertake, and in most cases also the ex¬ penses are too great for the average farm¬ er’s son to meet. The consequence is thal the class for whom the colleges were as¬ signed have received absolutely no bene¬ fit from their existence. m Mtmw mmmmm One-third of all the zinc made in Europe is manufactured in Belgium. JASPER, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, JULY 4, 1881). LOVE’S MITE. Sweet sympathy is strong to aid, And gentle tones have power to cheer: Twore hard for us if riches made The sum of all our treasure hero. He who approved tho widow’s mite, Knows well what triumphs Love has won: -Vnd precious in His holy sight Is every kindly action done. —S. Cray. AN UGLY FACE. BV TOM P. MORGAN. “An’—an’, you’re so ugly, Jacks!” the girl added, with something like a little shudder. “I know it, Ilannio, but- ” Half frightened at the look of anguish that her words had brought to the man’s ugly face, the girl turned aud sped along the timber-path that led from the big spring. The man covered his face with his hard hands and groaned. No one knew better than he just how unhandsome he was. As a boy, Jackson Hamlin had grown apathetically used to the sobriquet of “Ugly Jacks,” and had so often sought some placid little “back-set" in the creek, and gazed at his reflection in it with a pitiful hope that he might be growing less deserving of the title, that every line and lineament of his ugly face was as familiar to his mental vision as if it was ever before his eyes. He had grown from an ugly child to an equally ugly man, grave and kindly, and differing greatly from the shiftless aud “trifling” beings about him. He wore the same fashionless garb as they, but he spoke little of the quaint dialect which they drawled. While they passed as much as possible of their time at anything but work, he cultivated his timber-farm. Or when, at night, the young men followed yelping curs on ’possum or ’coon hunts, or with their sisters and sweethearts disported them¬ selves at the “hoe-down” dances, Jack [Iamliu bowed over the home-made table in his bachelor cabin, and, by the light of a spluttering tallow-dip, conned books that looked so bloatedly full of wisdom that the casual and illiterate visitor re¬ garded them almost reverently. No one knew their contents, not even old Jerry Pottle’s daughter, one of the few persons in the neighborhood—the Egypt of Southwestern Missouri—who mid read. They looked too dry and ponderous to arouse her interest. But she liked to hear him tell of the great world—the world beyond the forest— beyond the limits of the State, even—the outside world of which she had seen nothing and he very little, but of which he knew much from reading. And she liked, too, to hear him recite poetry—poetry that she, with her scanty education, could scarcely understand. And, at such times, she would, for a lit¬ tle while, forget his ugly face, the sur¬ roundings, the rickety, shook-covered house where her father, old Jerry Pottle, calmly smoked and dozed in his back- tilted chair on the porch; forget the apathetic, shiftless, out-of-the-way world in which she existed, and live for the moment in the bright, far-off world of which the poem told. This bright-faced, ragged maided had hopes—dreams that promised no shadow of fulfillment till Sharpley came. You and I would have considered this Sliarp- ley a very indifferent personage—rowdy- ish as to appearance, deficient as to gram¬ mar, and inclined to slovenliness of attire. But to Han he was very interesting in¬ deed. lie had been almost everywhere— at least he said so. He, too, could quote poetry—of a certain class. As a conver¬ sationalist he seemed almost a wonder to Han, for Sharpley’s tongue was ready and his mind an inventive one, and the restrictions of truth bothered him little. If Jacks Ilamllm had dreamed dreams, he had said very little about them. But often at night, when he should have been studying those dry books, something would come between him and the printed page, and its text would go uncom¬ mitted, while he wove wreaths of happy fancies around the mental picture that kept him from studying—the bright, wild face of old Jerry Pottle’s daughter. But he had said nothing of this to her, hut had waited till— Then Sharpley came, from where no one knew, and for what no one could guess; and then Jacks was with her no more. Jacks had made no complaint, but had kept closer to his farm during the days, and studied his dry books more fiercely at night. And Ilan scarcely missed him at all, for Sharpley was so often hovering about, and his conversation seemed al¬ ways of things in which she was interest¬ ed. And—well, it was so easy for Sharp- ley’s agile tongue to promise anything, and listening, the girl almost forgot Jacks. Few had known or cared when he dis¬ appeared for a few days, and then came back with one of the two great hopes of his life blossoming into realization. “I’ll tell it to her,” he told himself. “Tell it to Hannie, and maybe—” He met her in the shady path as she was returning with a bucket of water from the big spring, and started to tell her the 3tory in a hurried, blundering way, be¬ ginning at the wrong end of the narrative and blurting out a little of the other great hope that he had so long cherished. But the girl would scarcely listen to him. “I must hurry on,” she said. “Mr.— somebody will be waitin’ fer me.” “Somebody—Sharpley!” Jacks Ham¬ lin said, bitterly. “That sneaking hound, that-” “He’s jest as smart as you are!” the girl retorted, angrily. “Jest as smart, “WE 8EEK THE REWARD OF HONE8T LABOR." an’ a heap nicer! Ho jest knows ever so much, an’ is jest, as niec-lookiu’ as he kin be, an’—an’ you’re Hannic, so ugly!" but-" “1 know it, But she was speeding away down the path, spilling the water from the bucket, at every step. groaned. “Don’t “Ugly?” the man I know just as well as anybody in the world how ugly I am? I— But it’s that hound Sharpley that lues changed her! She used to seem to like to have me around, and almost seemed to forget my ugly face. And I— Well, it’s all over now 1 I dreamed; that was all 1 But. if Sharpley He did not finish the sentence, but strode along the wood-path in the direc¬ tion that the girl had just taken. A. mo¬ ment later, as he rounded a bend iu the path, he stopped suddenly. Before him, close to where the path left the timber at the edge of the clearing, two figures were standing, screened l>y a bush from the sight of old Jerry Pottle, drowsily smok¬ ing in his tilted chair on the porch of liis shook-covcred domicile. “Sharpley!” Jacks muttered, hoarsely. Sharpley’s arm was around the girl as if he had sprung out from a haudy hid¬ ing place and caught her, and although the girl struggled as maidenly modesty dictated, she did not seem greatly dis¬ pleased. And as Jacks looked, his Sharpley, holding her fast with superior strength, bent her head back and kissed her. Then the girl broke away and bounded toward the house with the now almost empty bucket, and Sharpley strode down the path, whistling airily, and as he went on the girl stopped and looked after him. He passed so close to Jacks, who had stepped behind a tangled bush, that the latter could have struck him to the earth. But Sharpley, unconscious of the prox¬ imity of the ugly face, that, darkened with hatred, looked half demoniacal as it peered at him, went on whistling patlf as he strolled along the wooded and round the bend, and the half-raised hand dropped at Hamlin’s side. lie left his concealment as if to follow the other, but turned, as there came a clatter of ’hoofs. Before the girl had reached the house a small boy, mounted on a wheezy horse, dashed up to the rickety pole-fence and uttered a -shrill whoop that aroused old Jerry Pottle so suddenly that he near! fell out of his tilted chair. The old man hurried over to the fence, the boy imparted his message, and the steed dashed wheezingly away again, urged by the rain of kicks that the bare heels of his rider bestowed upon his rusty sides. As the girl hurriedly, reached the house, old Jerry emerged bearing a long brown rifle. “Where are you goin’, paw?” the girl asked. “Hanner,” said the old man, sternly, as he strode away, “shot yo’re mouth, ’an don’t you darst to stir offen the place twell to-mor’. Some event of much moment must be at hand. “Hanner” was only used at such rare intervals that the girl’s proper name had been almost forgotten. Her father, kind in his shiftless way, usually considered “Ilan” sufficiently compre¬ hensive,and few called her anything else, except Jacks. It had been “Hannie” with him, and then with Sharpley. Just now the girl did not remember but two previous occasions upon which he had dignified her as “Hanner.” One was when his wife, her mother, had died. The other was only bust week, when the Riggs “boys” had been arrested, and car¬ ried away on a journey that, after some delays, ended at the penitentiary,the said “boys” having been captured by a United States marshal and his posse while en¬ gaged in manufacturing “moonshine” whisky at a cleverly concealed still-house. Old Jerry Pottle did not see Jacks Hamlin as he turned from the path and plunged into the timber. Now and then, as the homely man trudged toward his lonely home, he muttered, half aloud, in a dreary, despairing way. “It is all over, now!” he groaned. “Hannie—little Hannie!” Night found Ilamlin inhissmall house, bowed over his home-made table, seem¬ ingly savagely intent upon devouring the contents of one of the dry books. But the light of the spluttering candle could not dissipate the shadow that seemed ob¬ scuring the printed page—a shadow that, in spite of his determination, kept resolv¬ ing itself into the face of a girl—a bright face framed in a tangle of wavy hair. lie stared fiercely at the page before him,and passed his hand across his vision as if to brush away the shadow that, in spite of his effort to think of it no more, his thoughts would keep bringing up. And when, in angry despair, he turned away from the book, the face was before his vision still. “Hannie! Ilannic!” he said, half aloud. “I There came a patter of footsteps with¬ out in the darkness, and a little figure with frightened face and panting breath staggered in at the open door and sank into the first chair. “Ilannic!” cried the man, in astonish¬ ment. “Oh, Jacks!” gasped the girl, ‘Save him! Save him ! They are goin’ to kill him, an’-” It was evident that she was terribly frightened “They’ll about something. him—kill him!” she kill wailed. “An’—an’ he was goin’ to take me away from here an’ show me ail the great world, an’ make a lady uv me—an’ I’d never have to wear these ole ragged cloze no more. An’—an’ now they’re goin’ to kill him! They drove me away when I tried to plead with them—my ole father shoved me away an’ called him a spy. An’ you’ll save him! You can— you can! You know so much, an’-” “Him? Who? Sharpley?" •“Yes. lie was goin’ to take me out into the big, bright world, an’—an’ now they arc goin' to kill him--” “Was he going to make you his wife?” the man asked, sternly. “’Deed an’ double ho was, an’-” “Gomel” was all the man said. They loft the house and hurried away {>• the darkness, the man striding along ot'a terrific pace, seemingly unmindful of the snags and brambles that clutched him •?ov and then, often tearing his clothes and scratching his tlesh. The girl ran at his side, telling more of the story iu a ■ f.sping, That excited, half-incoherent way. night Bharplcy was to have taken the girl away—away out into the great , bright world. But, while Sharpley was waiting at the trysting-plaeo, they had come and dragged him away. And now, iffny were going to kill him, she moaned — kill him, an’- A gleam of light filtered through the bushes ahead, and presently they were juft without the circle of brightness cast by a fire that, blazing cheerily, revealed a weird, wild scene. The fire-light shone on the despairing face of a man bound to a determined sapling—Sharpley. It lit up the stern, countenances—familiar, all of them, to the couple beyond the circle of light—of men intent upon executing what they considered just vengeance. The making of “moonshine” whisky, though nominated in the statutes of this great Government as a heinous offense, was regarded by them with extremely lenient eyes, while the giving of information leading to the capture of such offenders was considered the chief atrocity in the catalogue of man’s crimes against his fellow-men. The girl would have rushed forward, but Hamlin held her back, almost savagely. “Guilty, or not guilty?” old Jerry Pottle was asking of the group of stern¬ faced men about him. “Guilty 1” •iiSharploy,” began old Jerry, gravely, “you’ve be’n found guilty, an’-” .“They’ll kill him!” tlio girl gasped. ‘ 1 Save—save-” Thu hand of the man beside her closed fiercely on her arm. “Let them!” he whispered, hissingly. “He came between-” “But he was goin’ to take .me ’way a. .;l i.w -0 au’ make, a lady uv me!" the girl whispered, pleadingly. “So will But, I forgo Ugly —ugly I” “You’ve be’n foun’ guilty,” old Jerry was saying—“guilty uv givin’ the infor¬ mation that sent the Biggs boys to prison —tore ’em away frum tlieir wives an’ families, left the women to fill the hungry nfouths uv their children as best they kin, an’ sent ’em to a livin’ death fer half uv their lives!” The stem-faced men seemed to grasp their rifles more firmly. “I reckon you know what punishment scch traitors as you git who sell men’s lives fer a little money. Bobbed ’em uv half uv their lives on this yere yearth be- ca’sethey made a little eo’u into juice, ’stead uv meal 1” “Yes; I know!” answered Sharpley. “You’ll murder me!” “It hain’t murder to rid the yearth uv a sneakin’ houn’ uv a spy. It’s-” “But I’m' not guilty!” Bharplcy inter¬ rupted, desperately. “Indeed, I did not give the information.” “Don’t lie, Sharpley! The news that little Sol Bender got in town was straight. You gave the hoys up, an’-” “No—no I Not I!” cried Sharpley, iu his desperation. It was-” “Who?” demanded old Jerry. . “Jacks Ilamlin 1” cried the wretched prisoner, as a last resort. “You are a liar!” roared old Jerry. “Jacks Hamlin--” “Is the guilty man!” uttered a steady voice. A little squad of men who had crept noiselessly within hearing of the small group about the fire saw Hamlin stride resolutely into the light, lie strode to where Sharpley was bound. A revolver was in his hand, and with it he waved back old Jerry and his little squad. Quickly drawing a knife, he severed Sharpley’s “There,” bonds. the girl ho said, sternly, to who had followed into the light, ‘ ‘I have saved him! Go—go with the man you love, and—and may God bless you!” Somehow, it almost seemed that, in the light of the great sacrifice he had made, Jacks Hamlin’s unhandsome face looked less ugly. Tlie girl never once looked at Sharpley, but kept her eyes fixed on Hamlin’s face, pale, stern and ugly,and it somehow seemed to her just then the noblest face in the world. “Come, Hannie,” Sharpley said, eager¬ ly, bestowing scarce a thought upon the man who had saved his life at the cost of the greatest sacrifice that a man can make. “Come, I’ll take you out into the great world you wanted to see, and-” “Go I” Hamlin said. “Go with the man you love, while you can! I-” “But, I don’t love him!” cried the girl. “I love you!” “Ilannic!” Then she was sobbing on his breast, and the ugly face was bent to her wild hair, and Hamlin forgot Sharply, forgot the desperate men he had dared; and they, slow-witted always, had stood open- mouthed and motionless during the excit¬ ing moments that followed his appear¬ ance. Then Sharpley turned to flee. The next instant he was confronted by a little squad of men who appeared as suddenly as if they had risen from the earth. “Stop!” the leader cried, us old Jerry’s $1*00 Per Annum, In Advance. party eloead their gaping mouths aud raised their brown rifles. “Who air you?" demanded Pottle. ‘‘I’ll tell you who!” cried Sharpley, in temptingly. “They are United State- Marshal Keenan and his posse! And now that I have such backing-” “Our only business is with Sharpley,’ the Marshal said, sternly. “We have listened long enough to gather the gist ol the story. In his capacity of spy, Slmrp- ley did good work in delivering the Biggs boys to justice. The man who just saved his life had not the most re¬ mote connection with the matter." It seemed that Sharpley had remained in the neighborhood on the plea that he was on the scent of an illicit distillery. Fearing that he would he recalled before he could accomplish his purpose, he sent in reports that led the Marshal to believe that there was an important capture all ready to ho made. Hence the night-ex¬ pedition. “Now, I have only to say,” added the Marshal, “that if there is a still in this neighborhood, that is a matter to be at- tended to at some other time. Young woman,” bo said, addressing Ilannic, “your Inst choice was a wise one. Sharpley, the contemptible hound, is a married man, as I happen to know. The man whose arm is around you 1 never saw before, but he is a hero, and—- Stop there, Sharpley 1” The spy had exhibited a desire to cs- cape. “We will take him away with us," added the Marshal. “And I shall take pleasure, not only in discharging him, but in kicking him soundly as well.” After they were gone, old Jerry’s little squad stood motionless in their tracks, their slow wits aluiost refusing to grasp the situation. “Wal,” drawled old Jerry, “I’ll jesl be bodasiously switched 1” “Me, tool” agreed each of his com¬ rades, as they turned to go. Hannic and Jacks were the last of the procession that made its slow way through the dark timber, and the man’s arm was around the girl’s waist. “But, I am afraid—won’t you ever re¬ gret this, little woman?” Jacks whispered. “Nope!” said the girl, positively. “’Cause, you see, l love you too well!’ 11 But, I’m—I’m so ugly I” “No, you h’ain’t!” denied the girl stoutly. “You h’ain’t, an’ you ort to 1 ashamed o’ yourself to*say so: An’ you’r« so smart, an’ good, too, an’-1 novel knowed my own heart till I saw you offei to give up your life fer that—that houn’l” “But, he promised to take you out iu. to the great world, and-” “Blame the great world! I don’t want it! I jest want you!” There followed a peculiar sound, that reached the ears of old Jerry Pottle. “Will, I’ll jest bo bodasiously switched if I wa’n’t, that riled up by circumstances, so to speak, that I till plumb fergot a im¬ portant matter that thar kissin' ’minded me uv it. Jacks, you kin have her; you’re white. An’, wal, if thar’s anything on my place that you want to borry, it’s your’n long's you want it. ” A little later, Jacks told Ilannic the good news that he had intended to tel! , her when he had met her in the path re¬ turning from the spring. “You see,I've been putting in my spare time for years studying medicine, and the other day I went to the city, and a well- known physician put me through a short examination. He said that theoretically 1 was well advanced, aud that after ac¬ quiring the practical part of the science of medicine by a course under some ex¬ perienced physician I would he well qualified to start to make a name for my¬ self in my chosen profession. And 1 have hopes of succeeding so well that, sometime, Hannie, you can see all of the great, bright world that you have so longed to see. You know that a homely doctor can succeed as well as a-” Then, she stopped his mouth with her hand .—Frank Leslie's. Tidings From Pitcairn Island. The clipper ship L. Schepp, which ha* arrived at Philadelphia from San Fran¬ cisco, brought tidings of the inhabitants of that most interesting of all the South Pacific island settlements, Pitcairn Island. Captain Gates, the conimundei of the Schepp, says that he was much surprised to find on coming on deck one morning a boat-load of stalwart men ap¬ proaching his vessel. Au island was seen a short distance off the starboard bow, and on the boat getting decrepit within hailing distance, an aged and man in the how shouted: “I am Thursday Oc¬ tober Christian, Governor of Pitcairn Island. Christian said that the population of Pitcairn consisted of 115 men, women and children. Captain Gates ordered the yards aback, and in a few minutes eighteen men were on the ship’s deck, all of whom bore evidence of English an¬ cestry. lie stated that he was the grand¬ son of one of the mutineers, who, in 1789, set adrift the officers of the Eng¬ lish armed transport ship Bounty. Sev¬ eral of the mutineers were afterward ar¬ rested and sent to England for trial. The Governor added that the use of to bacco and liquors was entirely unknown among the people of Pitcairn, and that the little colony were in need of dress goods, particularly for the women, dressed as in nearly all of the latter were men’s clothes secured from passing ves¬ sels. A supply of clothing was given, and an abundance of fruit and provisions was sent on board the ship in exchange — Times-Democrat. In 1874 the Governor of Nebraska named the first Arbor Day. NO. 37. HOUSEIIOLB AFFAIRS, to nnoir, a beefsteak. Have the steak cut an inch and a half thick. Lay it on a double broiler over a clear fire and let it become seared on both sides, to prevent the escape of the juice; then turn it constantly for ten or twelve minutes. Do not season until it is put on the hot platter .—New York Press, COLD SI.AW. Cut the cabbage fine,and season it with salt and pepper. Put it in an earthen¬ ware bowl. Rub together a teaspoouful of flour, and butter the size of a walnut; pour over it two tablespoonfuls of boil¬ ing water, and stir smoothly on the stove; put it on the back of the stove, where it will keep hot blit not boil, and add two tablespoonfuls of vinegar. Beat light the yolks of two eggs, a teaspoouful of sugar, half a teaspoouful of mustard, aud two tablespoonfuls of cream. Mix this with the hot mixture; replace on the stove, stirring well; let it come to a boil, and pour while hot over tho cabbage.— Prairie Farmer. SAUCES. The simplest sauce for meats, fish and vegetables is made from water, melted butter and flour, seasoned with salt and pepper. Greatcarc and exactness are re¬ quired iu making sauces. The flour must be corked in the butter, and the hot water added gradually. A good rule is, one pint of hot water, one-half cup of butter, two tablespoonfuls flour, salt and pepper. For the water, milk may be substituted, which gives white sauce: Bggs, parsley, lemon,mustard, oysters and celery may be added, each giving a name to the sauce. Mint sauce is made from the tender leaves of mint, chopped fine and soaked an hour iu sweetened vinegar —one cup chopped mint, one-fourth cup sugar, one-half cup of vinegar .—Detroit Free Press. OLD FASniONED YANKEE DREAD. Sift two pounds of best flour on bread tray. Make a hollow plaeo.in the centre and drop in a piece of lard tho size of a tablespoon. Dissolve one yeast cake in a little warm water and put that in with tl'"Yard and one teaspoouful of salt and i teacup of sugar. Then mhc it with ’■vann water until it is thick aud (turn . j, on your molding board and Wld it till it shines and does not stick to the board. You cannot mold it too much. Then put it back on the tray. Cover it with a cloth not very heavy and put it in t warm place till morning. When it be¬ comes .very light put it on the board again and mold it down till it is solid. 3et it in a warm place, and as soon as it •ises nicely mold it again and pqt it in buttered pans and bake immediately. This takes a little time, but you have rood bread. HOABT SPRING LAMB, MINT SAUCE. Lamb is now reasonable enough in price to bo served twice a week. Small families will find it profitable to buy a leg and loin; the leg to be roasted and the loin cut up and served as chops, or the loin may be roasted and cutlets made of the leg. Lamb requires salt, pepper and the best of butter added before roasting. The butter may he rolled in little bulls ot nukes, then dredged with flour, The roast should he nicely browned on the outside. Mint sauce is easily made. Chop up three or four sprigs of mint,add it to a gill of vinegar, ndil also half a teaspoonful of sugar. Mint sauce may be made in large quantities and bottled for use. The ‘common spearmint is the kind of mint mostly used in sauces, and is supposed to be the mint spoken of in the New Testament: pennyroyal and pepper¬ mint are members of the same family.— New York Sun. CHICKEN PIE. Cut the chicken in pieces, unjointing and cutting the back into four parts. Wash thoroughly and place over a moderate fire, covering with cold water and adding pepper and salt. Boil until tender, when the chicken can be removed. Add a little thickening stirred with flour and water and boiled in the liquor for a gravy. Add a little butter if desired. For the crust, make a light dough, as for baking powder biscuit, by rubbing butter two-thirds the size of an egg into three cups of flour, three teaspoons of baking powder, a pinch of salt, mixing with sweet milk sufficiently stiff to roll out. Place your chicken in your baking pan, which should hold at least three quarts. Cut a tiarrow strip of the dough and place around the top edge. Add enough of the gravy to make the pie moist. Cover the pie with the balance of the dough, cutting a long slit in the center, and pressing the outer edges securely together. Keep in a moderate oven from half to three quarters of an hour, or until it has boiled up and the crust is done. Serve from the pan in which it is cooked. HOUSEHOLD HINTS. Drain pipes and all places that are sour or impure, may be cleaned with lime wa¬ ter or carbolic acid. To keep eggs cool is a help in making frosting. Set them in the refrigerator after separating whites and yolks; they will beat in half the time. To clean windows, wash them first with tepid water and a sponge; then dry them with old linen, and rub them clean; pol¬ ish them with a newspaper. If you wish to keep a sharp knife don’t put it in hot grease; stir your potatoes while frying, or turn meat, with a fork or >ld case knife kept on purpose,