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THE LAND OF. HOPE. There's a beautiful isle in a summer sea In a wonderful country awaiting me, Where wealth with its blessings and love with its crown, Blend in harmony rare; where songsters brown Fling out sweet symphonies on each hand. Oh, the land of Hope is a beautiful land. No sorrow or illness is ever known there. No trial or weeping or touch of despair, No burden to carry, no task to pursue, No thought that is weary, no sighing to do. Our lightsome feet tread over glittering sand, Oh, the land of Hope is a beautiful land. But the fairy-like isle in a summer sea Is a million leagues too distant for me. Though 1 sailed o’er the seas, and sailed ever more, I could never catch sight of its lonely shore, Though wo hear of its glory ou every hand, Oh, the land of our Hope is a phantom land. — E. B. Bohan, in Daughters of America. THE MORGAN WILL I had been admitted to the bar, but as I had very little practice and found my self with plenty of time on hand, I had got into the habit of dropping in to chat with a news dealer who kept a stand not far from my office. Old Bowls, as everybody called him, dealt also in waste paper and rags, which he sold to the paper makers One evening he was sorting a lot of rubbish, when my practiced eye lighted on what appeared to be a legal docu ment, bound with blue tape. I took it up, and saw that it was marked “Last Will and Testament. ” I opened it and commenced to read: In the name of God. Amen. Know all men by these presents, that I, James Morgan, being of sound mind and disposing memory, do make and pubiish this my last will and testament. “What’s that you say?” demanded Bowls, as he dropped a handful of paper and looked up at me. I repeated what I had read. “All right, he said. “JSow read on, Squire.” “I give and bequeath to my adopted daughter, Elizabeth Morgan, ” otherwise known as Elizabeth Bummers, all my per sonal and real property, after the payment of my funeral expenses and my just debts. “Heavens!” exclaimed Bowls, “that must be the will of old Morgan, who died four years ago—it was said—intestate. He left not less than SIOO,OOO, that all Went to remote heirs, though everybody expected it would have been left to this very Elizabeth Summers, his adopted daughter.” “What has become of the adopted daughter?” I asked. “I do not know, but I think I cau rind out.” “How much of this property is real estate? and where is it situated”’ „ “Well, there is the Oakdale planta tion, which lie 3 about five miles out from here, and is worth at least $50,000. Then there are several houses in town also, besides $25,000 in Government securities.** ■ “Who is the relative that got the property ?” “Simon Skaggs. He lives out at the Oakdale farm. I think he is a second cousin to Mr. Morgan.” “What kind of man is he” “A mean old skinflint, or he would never have taken the last cent from that poor girl.” “Well,” said I, “I propose to take thiß will home with me to-night and ex amine it carefully. If I find it all right we’ll hunt up the girl and recover the property for her. To thii he assented, and, depositing the document in my pocket, I bade the old man good night and returned to my office, where I slept. The next afternoon I went to Bowls’s •tore. He was alone, waiting for me. “1 have found where the girl is,” he 1 •aid, as soon as I told him that the will was undoubtedly genuine. “She lives about fifty miles off, in a little place called Friendsville, quite up among the mountains, on a wild hill-farm, where things go on in the most primitive man ner. A distant relative—an aunt three times removed, very poor, but, it seems, not without a heart—heard of her desti tution, and sent for her. An old lady, who used to know the girl and had her at her house awhile a.ter old Morgan’s death, happened to come in here and I a,sked her if she knew where Elizabeth Bummers was.” “1 will go down and see her to-mor row,” i said promptly. “And bring her back with you,” au swered Bowls, as briskly. “My daugh ter and I will give her a hom* Gad!” he cried, rubbing his hands enthusias tically, “we’ll be too much for old Skaggs, after all.” ..■ .... It was late the next afternoon when I arrived at my destination, having made the journey partly by rail and partly by stage. The coach put me down at a lonely crossroads, from which I had about two miles to walk. “Oh, yes, the Widow Benhara,” said the driver, pointing with his whip, “lives up yonder, just around the point of the mountain. You'll see the house in ten minutes or so.” It was a warm, sultry day in August, with not a breath of air stirring. I soon caught sight of the house—a plain, un pretending structure like so many in that region. When it was about 200 yards distant the sound of falling water at tracted me, apparently coming from some precipitous rocks on the left. As I was thirsty I went toward it. As I turned the corner ot a cliff p handsome girl, about 20 years of age, emerged from a sort of cave, bearing on her shoulder a large water jar. The lightne;-s with which she stepped from stone to stone across the brook, the potse, as of some sylvan goddess, with which she bore aloft the jar, made me utter unconsciously an exclamation of surprise. Though she was dressed in the coarsest homespun and wore neither shoes nor stockings, I forgot altogether the homeliness of her apparel in the grace of her movements, the exquisite contour of her figure, and the beauty of her expressive face, which was now mantling with blushes. A small dog, apparently a self-constituted pro tector, barked at me furiously as I ad vanced, hat in hand; for intuitively I knew this must be my client. My client it was. I lost no time in explaining the object of my visit. She was very much surprised, but, after a moment’s hesitation, said with dignity: “Come up to the house, please. I will consult my aunt. Down, Tip—down, sir. ” The dog ceased barking at this com mand and trotted quietly ahead. I offered to take the jar, but she declined with the composure of a queen. When she had introduced me to Mrs. Benham and said; “This gentleman, aunt, has something very strange to tell you, and I will leave you with him for a moment,” she disappeared, returning some quarter of an hour later, dressed ia a becoming blue muslin and with the daintiest of slippers on her pretty feet. I had meantime produced the will and given details of the manner in which it was found. Not to dwell too long on this prelude to my story, I will say briefly that my client and I started the next morning for Kent, and were met at the depot bv Bowls and bis daughter, who relieved me of my charge, while I went to my boarding house for supper and thence to my room. The next day I filed the document in the office of the County Clerk, and gave notice to Skaggs that on the following Monday I should move that it be ad mitted to probate. But here a new difficulty presented it self. In our anxiety l o find the claimant we had utterly overlooked the attesting witnesses. I immediately went to Bow’s and stated the difficulty. “Ah!” said he, “why have we not thought of this before?” ‘ ‘Do you know these witnesses ?” I said. “Yes, I know them. Tom Jones lived as a tenant on the old man’s farm at the time of his death. He now lives about ten miles out on the Lancaster road. And, as certain as I’m a sinner, ’squire, this other witness is dead, William Jack son ? Yes—l remember him. He moved to Texas, and died a year ago.” “Then it’s all up. We can’t get along without both witnesses. Are you sure that Jackson is dead?” “I am certain. He has a brother liv ing in this town, who received a letter from the family in Texas at the time of his death. There is no doubt about it.” “Then we may as well drop the mat ter at once. The law of this State re quires the evidence of two witnesses, and makes no provision for the death of one.” “It does look rather ugly, if that's the case,” said Bowls. “But let’s make a fight of it—something may turn up in our favor.” My fears proved correct, however. We made a gallant struggle ; but it was in vain. My speech, I was told afterward, was applauded privately by the Judge, though in his offcial capacity he felt compelled to decide against me. I re member that I spoke from a full heart of the injustice of refusing to receive a will which everybody knew to be that of Morgan, merely because one of the wit nesses had died. My fair client still remained at my friend Bowls’s. “My eldest daughter has come to love her as a sister, ” he said. “Bessie, as you must have seen,is unusually intelligent. She had received quite a good education, too, before old Mr. Morgan died. The cheerful man ner in which she bore her subsequent poverty is, as Mrs. Benham says, a proof of an unusually noble character. Now we have invented au effuse that we want a nursery governess,Tot she is too proud to stay as a mere pensioner, and her aunt has consented to the ar rangement, saying that it is a sin to bury Bessie among the hills.” a One day in the following* ummer I was in the clerk’s office searching some old records, when I came upon a page that almost took my breath away. After reading it carefully I closed the book and returned to my office. The next day Simon Skaggs was served with a summons to answer a suit of ejectment in the name of Elizabeth Morgan, for all the real property held by him, which he claimed as heir at law of the late James Morgan; and great was the excitement in the village when it was known that this suit was begun. “What could it mean?” asked every body. I told no one. Even to Bessie I only represented that I thought I saw a chance to recover; but I was careful not to ap pear too sanguine. In two months the Circuit Court came on. Again the court was crowded. The excitement was even greater than it had been before. I had prepared no brief. Not even a memorandum or a book did I carry to court. “Morgan vs. Skaggs,” called the Clerk, and shortly afterward I said: “Call Mr. Bowls.” The Sheriff called him. He came into the court room, took the witness-stand and was sworn. Tfie most intense silence now reigned. My fair client was seated by my side, pale and quiet. The defendant was seated near his counsel, calm, confident, and de l ant. “Examine the witness,” said the Judge. “Mr. Bowls,” I began, “are you ac quainted with the plaintiff.” “ I am.” “ Do you know where she lived, from the time she was three years old, up to the time she was sixteen?” “ I do.” “Where?” “With the late James Morgan.” “Are you certain that this plaintiff is the same person?” “ I am.” “ That’s all I wish to ask,” said I to the Court. “Cross-examine, gentlemen,” said the Judge. “We don’t wish to ask anything,” said the opposing counsel—two of the able-t lawyers in the country. “ Let the witness stand aside,” said the Court. “Call your next.” “ May it please your Honor, we have no other witnesses that we wish sworn at present,” said I, rising to my feet and looking around the room. A murmur of disappointment ran through the crowd. “ Then you rest your case here?” said the Judge with a smile. No, your Honor; we have some record evidence that we wish to introduce;” and as I spoke I drew it from my pocket. “It is an authenticated copy from the records of the country for the year 18—. It proves that this young iady was duly and legally adopted as the daughter of the deceased, and as such is entitled, under our law, to this property, as his nearest and only heir at law. Shall I read it to the jury?” “Read it,,” said the Judge. But Skaggs’s lawyers sprang to their feet with a storm of objections. For a full hour they argued, with all the force of their ability, bringing to bear their vast knowledge and experience. But j they were finally overruled by the Court, S who directed me to proceed. The record was conclusive. After ! reading it I announced I would close the I case for the plaintiff. The defendant was so completely taken by storm that he did not introduce a single witness. The charge of the Court was lucid and comprehensive. In thirty minutes the jury returned a verdict for the plaintiff. The result was received with loud acclamations by the excited audience. Skaggs took the case to the Supreme Court, but only for the purpose of gain ing time. The judgment below was affirmed. , ' Three months later the real estate was turned over to my lair client. The securities were given up at the same time without a suit. With a part of the interest which had been accumulating for so many years the old mansion at Oakdale was refitted and furnished. Six months later there was a quiet wedding at my old friend Bowls’s, in which I took a prominent part. I am getting on toward middle age. I love my profession better than ever, though my time is now necessarily divided, and a portion of it devoted to the farm at Oakdale. The old farmhouse is vocal with childish music, and a sunny-haired, soft voiced little woman makes it the bright est spot on all the earth to me. Starting an Alligator Ranch. Captain C. A. Eastman left this port several months since on the little steamer Balboa on a trading voyage along the 1 west ports of Lower California and Mex ico and has just returned to this city, after having completed a successful trip. The captain is well known as a pro fessional curiosity-hunter, having at times been employed by Barnutn, the Na tional Museum at Washington and the zoological gardens and by Government museums in the 1 astern States and Eu rope, and has procured for them seals, sea lions and other marine wonders. He is also a collector or rare plants, and be sides many valuable orchids, he has brought with him a rare collection of ancient pottery, consisting of jars, idols and domestic utensils, presumably of Aztec manufacture, which were found thirty feet beneath the surface in an ex cavation made on the Mexican National Railroad near Colima. But what he prides himself particularly upon is twenty live young alligators, ranging from eight to twenty inches in length, all of which are in prime condition, notwithstanding it is many weeks since they left their place of nativity. With these as a plant the captain proposes to start an alligator ranch on some one of the lagoons in the vicinity of Petaluma or Sonoma. Terrapin farms thrive in the State of Delaware, and their cultivation is not considered beneath the dignity of a United States Senator. The captain ar gues that there is a fortune in the pro ject, because alligator skins are valuable and are beginning to be rare and expen sive. and he also claims ’that the beast can be readily corralled and domestic ated and their habitations staked off and secured the same as au oyster bed. The alligator is known to breed ra pidly under almost any circumstances, is easily provisioned, and the projector of this new enterprise claims that the animal has been slandered by travelers’ tales, which hitherto prevented their being iftpoduced to the “glorious climate of Camornia” and their propaga tion for the sake of their valuable hides thus prevented from'becominga remuner ative “home iudustry.” —San Francisco Examine ;. A Parson Prevents Judicial M irder. A curious incident is related by the New York Observer of the Rev. Gilbert Taylor, of Tennessee. Mr. Taylor wms a Methodist minister—a near relative of President Taylor and a man of property. A young man was condemned to be hung for murder in his town, but Mr. Taylor was not satisfied that he was guilty, and one night, passing the jail where the condemned man was confined, he had a conversation with him, and be coming satisfied of his innocence he aided him to break out, and he disap peared from the community and efforts to recapture were fruitless. Some years thereafter Mr. Taylor was traveling on horseback in a wild part of ! Arkansas, and being benighted stopped j at a cabin and asked to be allowed to ; remain all night. Only a woman ap peared to be in the house aud she stoutly refused permission. No other residence being near, Mr. Taylor insisted on stay ing, and finally stated that he was a Methodist minister and that he was Gilbert Taylor, of Tennessee. The wo man at once asked him in and called to her son, who was hiding in the loft of the cabin, to come down—that the stranger was Gilbert Taylor, his rescuer. The meeting was a cordial one, and Mr. Taylor had the pleasure of informing the young man that he could return home, that another person, on his death bed, had confessed that ho alone was guilty of murder. There was joy in that humble cabin that night. An Ingenuous Criminal. The old story of the jury that found the prisoner not guilty and hoped ht would never do it again has a close par allel in a case recently tried in one of the New York courts. The defendant, a Ger man widow, was on trial the second time for arson, the first trial having re sulted in a disagreement of the jury. The testimony showed that she waa found last fall in her room bound and gagged, with a fire burning in the middle of the floor, and there was a very strong suspicion that the gagging were her own work ala Davenport Boys. Tho jury, however, found her not guilty, and the interpreter—she could rot speak a word of English—informed her that she was free. As she turned with a smiling countenance to leave the cou»t room the Judge asked her interpreter to say to her that the case had a very suspicious look, and that she had better not gc around getting herself tied up and gagged and having fires in her rooms. The interpreter did so, and electrified the court by announcing that in response she solemnly promised never to do it again. The jury, no doubt,felt convinced that its duty had been properly dis charged. — Detroit Free Press. | Blessing are strewed like flowers in . our pathway; it rests with us to gathei them up carof ully or pass them by. A FAMOUS CHEESE. A UNIQUE PREsEXT nBCKIYED BY THOMAS JEFFERSON. Numerous Massachusetts Admirers Contributed Milk to Construct the Monster Token—lts Re ception in Washington. The town of Cheshire, situated among the Berkshire Hills of Massachusetts, is one of the pleasantest places in all the country. The pasturage of this region is excellent, dhe laud is very product ive, and the dairy farms have always been noted for the quality of their but- I ter and cheese. And here, about eighty - j seven years ago, was made the enormous j cheese whose fame went abroad through | out the United States, crossed the water, j and even spread into foreign countries. Elder John Lelaud, a celebrated preacher of his time, was pastor of the village church. He w'as a vigorous and original thinker, noted for his exposition of the Scriptures. People came from far and near to listen to his sermons. In those days a minister’s views upon all public questions were received with respectful attention, and Elder Leland did not confine his t labors to parochial affairs. Any delinquency among the selectmen of the town, any failure in rigid adher ence to duty, was boldy attacked by him in the pulpit, and names were men tioned with startling directness. i iiomas Jefferson was nominated for the Presidency of the United States in : the fall of 1800. lie was believed by many to be au infidel, and the feeling of New England—the stronghold of orfho doxy—was severe against him. An ! ominous sileuce, that he preserved in re gard to his own religious belief was regarded as unfavorable, and it was even declared in some country towns that churches would be closed and the Bacredness of the Sabbath day no longer preserved if he were elected. Elder John Leland had no share in this public opinion. He had been a preacher in V irginia, where he often met Mr. Jeffer son. 1 he two men were mutually attracted and held long conversations together. Elder Leland became an ardent admirer of Jefferson. He recognized his Chris tian character in spit.e of a natural re ticence, and hfe be.ieved in his princi ples. When Jetlerson was nominated he began to work for him. It was said that the Elder stood alone, but the sturdy opposition became his inspiration. He preached politics in the pulpit on Sunday; he rode to neighboring towns through the week; he was ready always with an argument. So great was the influence that he exerted that when election day came there was not a mem ber of the whole county who failed to vote for Jefferson. Great was Elder Leland’s delight over the victory, and at the close of the afternoon’s service in the next Sabbath he proposed that, as a people, they should prepare a token of their good will to be sent to Washington after the new President had taken his place at the AVhite House. It should be somethiiig in which women as well as men could participate, and he suggested an enormous cheese, as the natural pro duct of their industry. Every man in the country voted for Jefferson should bring all th curd he felt able to give. A committee of farmers’ wives, who were skilled, should jbe appointed for the mixing. Everybody was pleased with the idea. Captain John Brown, who was known as the man to first sus pect and denounce Benedict Arnold as a traitor, was a member of this village. He offered his cider-mill as the best and largest in the town. They had it thoroughly cleaned, a new bottom of wood set in, surrounded with an iron hoop, and thus converted into a huge cheese-press. It was a fine afternoon when the crowd came pouring in from all quarters of the county to Captain Brown's farm. Some wealthy farmers brought quantities of curd, others only a pailful, but the offerings were poured into the cider-press. The matrons then came forward, mixed and flavored it. The men stood ready for the pressing. Then, uncovering their heads, all bowed reverently, while Elder Leland asked God’s blessing upon their labor. They sang a hymn, the minister giving out two lines at a time, and the people sing ing them, and a social season followed Until twilight dispersed the crowd. When the cheese was ready to be re moved, it was found to weigh 1000 pounds. The parish requested their minister to convey it in person to the President. It was a journey of 500 miles, but the sleighing at the appointed time was excellent, and he started. He was three weeks on the road. The peo ple thronged to meet him in every town and village through which he passed, for the news of the gift had spread, and such a cheese was never seen before. When Elder Leland arrived in Washington, he sent a note to Jefferson, who suggested that the members of his Cabinet aud of Congress,together with the foreign min isters and other distinguished guests, should be invited to attend and witness the presentation. In the midst of this gathering Elder Leland arose with great dignity and proffered the huge Cheshire cheese as a token of „he deep respect of hi 3 county. The President closed his courteous reply with these words: “I will Qa'’-<e this auspicious event to be placed .pon the records of our na tion, it will ever shipe amid its glo riou: archives. I shall ever esteem it among the most happy incidents of my |iie: and now my much respected rever end friend, I will, by the consent and in the. presence of my most hon ored council, have the cheese cut, and you will take back with you a portion of it, with my hearty thanks,and presenf it to your people, that they all may have a taste. Tell them never to falter in the principles they have so nobly defended; they have successfully come to the rescue of our beloved coun try in the time of her great peril. I wish them health aud prosperity,and may milk in abundance never cease to flow to the latest posterity.” As arrangements had previously been made, the steward of the White House came forward and cut the cheese. A slice was presented to each guest. Every pne tasted and declared it to be as near perfection as it was possible for cheese to b«. Elder Leland was greatly delighted with the whole enterprise. He spent a few days in Washington and then left for home. Another large meeting was held at Captain John Brown’s. The 'Eld'" ~r«ve the who 1? account of his trip, and the reception of their present at the Capitol. One can imagine the eagerness ana delight with which the people list ened. Each one received a small piece of cheese, for the whole region came to hear. This story is still treasured by those who received it from parents or grandparents. —Boston Transcript. Speed in Novel Composition. There are cases on record, says the New York Sun, where men have written twenty-four or thirty-six hours on a stretch just as stories are told of pro longed sitting* at the gaming table. Dr. •Johnson wrote “Rasselas” in a week, stimulated by gallons of strong tea, but he touched more posts and trees as he walked the streets afte.r this perform ance than he had ever done before, rind thus walked off his nervousness. Upon one or two occasions Henry J. the founder of the Times, is said to have written steadily for-fifteen or twenty hours, and when Matt Carpenter began the preparation of a brief he did not put down his pen until the work was fin ished, and sometimes the strain lasted for thirty-six hours. Probably the most conspicuous exam ple of the power to write hour after hour was bir Walter bcott, whose feats oi rapid composition of h s Waverly novels caused even greater amazement to his friends than the stories themselves. That is a picturesque description given by one of his friends who sat at a win dow directly opposite the room in which 1 Scott was working. He could not sec the Wizard’s face, but he could see his hand as it passed over the paper houi after hour, and when after aa absence of a few hours, the friend returned to his window, he saw again that white hand moving, with steady, unvarying mo notony, across the sheets, and it seemed to him like the ghastly hand of death, as, in one sense, it was. The average writer of tales or novels regard* from 1500 to 2000 words a day as a sufficient, day’s work, although there is a great difference between writers. Anthony Trollope set himself a stent, sometimes a thousand, sometime* fifteen hundreds words a day, and always did it. Thackeray, on the other hand, sometimes had prodigious bursts of energy, in which he accomplished the writing of many pages in his best man ner, and with scarcely an interlineation, and then again he would write scarcely a dozen lines in a day, and these were full of zigzags and black lines and cor rections. A Thrilling Suicide. We were going down the Mississippi, and had just pulled out of Natchez, says M. Quad in the Detroit Free Pres*, when a man, who had boarded the boat at that place, sat down with four or five of us and entered into general conversation. He was learne-d and intelligent, and was as calm and self-possessed as anyone you ever met. By and by he coolly said: “Gentlemen, I want your opinion on a strange question. Let each one of you give his choice of death in a case of sui-, cide.” There was more or less jocular talk be fore an opinion was given. There were five of us,Yo be exact, and two held to laudanum, one to shooting and the other two to drowning. It was agreed, how ever, that in none of the cases would the victim suffer much, providing he was de termined to make a sure thing of it. “Why do you ask, Colonel;” I queried after a while, seeing that he was silent. “Because it’s a personal matter with rpe. Gentlemen, lam very glad to have met you, and to have had this pleasant visit. Good-day.” lie lifted his hat, bowed grandly, and walked to the port side of the boat and sprang into the water before the eyes of fifty people. We stood ready in case he came up, and the boat was stopped and held, but never a sign of him did we see. The Father of Waters closed in over another mystery so tightly that not even a finger-tip was shown to guide us. Some day his body floated to the surface, to be cast upon the bank and found, but it was to be soiled into a shallow grave and forgotten ere the month was out. Physicians in Metropolitan Office Buildings. . “Quite a number of physicians are opening offices in the large New York building occupied by brokers, bank ers, lawyers and other business men,” said the President of a railroad company to a Telegram reporter. “Yes, indeed,” said he, “there are probably tw’enty-five doctors who are making good incomes from their prac tice down here. It is a new departure, of course, but then it pays and that is everything nowadays. There used to be a time when no one thought of consult ing any one but his family physician, just the same as some men only drink in certain places, but now nearly every one will drop into the most convenient re sort, and this is particularly true of busi ness men. They get so fagged out at night that they haven’t ambition enough to consult a doctor, and others cannot find the time. “Then, again, there are so many cases of sudden prostration that some person is bound to require medical treatment every day in any of the big office build ings. Men find it an easy matter to drop into the ‘doctor’s office’ on their w r ay up or down stairs, and not a few have come to dispense with the attendance of their former family physician altogether. Most of these downtown doctors, as they are callad, are young men of abili ty, who. on account of their inexperienc e and lack of ‘pull,’ have failed to estab lish a paying business up towi. Their office hours are from nine to five, but from that time they are generally at liberty until the following day.” Burmese Cats. Burmese cats are curious-looking ani mals. They have a joint it the middle of their tails, which appendage is in consequence crooked and sticks out at an angle. They are fine specimens of the cat race and very useful in a house. They will attack a venomous snake without hesitation, aud show much dexterity in killing one, biting it on the back close to the head. If bitten, as one of my fa vorite Toms was once by a cobra, they will retire to the jungle where they eat some herb nature points out to them, and, after the expiration of a few days, i come back to the house very lean and hungry, but well and frisky as ever. Commercial Advertiser. "Washington bids fair to have a Na . tional Zoological Garden. A SALT MINE. TOUR THROUGH THE GREAT MINES OF BAVARIA. The Wonderful Effects Produced by the Minins Operations a::d by Nature’s Fantastic Handiwork. —A Weird Experience. - A writer in the New York Commercial Advertiser describes a dramatic visit t« the great show mines of the balzgam mergut region in Bavaria, lie says: The great mountain looms up round green arid beautiful, from tfie lovely valley of Berchtesgaden. A dark tunnel close by the carriage road leads directly into the dark city of salt under-fffif; green mountain. As we entered this tunnel, the guide whose duty it is tn conduct us, thrust into the hands ol each a tiny miner’s lantern: and. shiver ing a little in the vault-like air, we fol lowed closely after him through the long and narrow gallery, which was evenly scooped out of the solid, -ulty rock. Through the bottom of the gal lery, which with the exception of a slight dampness on the ground was quite dry and clean, was laid a car track Oy which the workmen pass in and out. Along the narrow passage we walked single file, the lights from our lantern pene trating . the gloom before us, until we came to a flight of 126 steps leading into a sort of hollowed-out clumber. From here the dug-out gang ways, with ear tracks in each, led off in every direction to different parts of the mountain. Into one of these we plunged, the dark salt crystal, glistening as we passed. In comparing the muddy-look ing salt in its crude state with the pure white salt of our tables, we can realize what a purifying process it must undergo before it is fit for use As we penetrated further into the heart of the mountain, however, the percentage of salt became so great that only the traces of powdei used in blasting prevented the crystal walls from appearing quite white. Through tunnels that grew saltier and more salty, we ascended another flight of steps and were then in the gallery above the one we had entered. To give au idea of the extent of these great show mines of the world, the guide told u* that there were five stories of worked out galleries above us,extending for mile in the mountain in all directions, and still the inexhaustible store exists tc unknown heights and depths. As from 25,000 to 20,000 tons of table salt pet annum are supplied from here, as well as 4000 tons of rock salt for cattle, one car well believe that this one mountain could supply the whole world with that useful commodity. Upon descending another of the inter minable stairways cut in the rock a weird and beautiful sight burst upon us. A deep and briny lake lay here in the bowels of the earth, its borders defined by the hundreds of twinkling lights that the miners had placed there, aud which, reflected in the black pool, doubled and redoubled and lighted mysteriously the lofty chamber out of which the lake wa! hollowed. The scene was so weird and fantastic that we might well have fan cied ourselves in another and not better world. The lanterns threw fitful gleams over our strange attire and lighted as tonished faces. Was this the river Styx, and was that Charon waiting to row us over? For there was a boat and we were to continue this fanciful program by entering it and being paddled across the inky lake. Surprises were in store for us on every side, and as we landed on the other side, a tiny fountain shot out of the water a shower of glittering 3pray that gleamed and sparkled in the many lights, completing a scene very like some weird spectacular drama. There are many of these great pools in the mountain, but only this one is ex hibited to visitors. The water is let in fresh from the mountain above, and is allowed to lie until thoroughly impreg nated with salt, when it is carried off in pipes to the village of Ilsogang, about four miles distant. There it is raised to the top of a mountain, to flow down twenty long miles to Reiehenhall, where it is evaporated and the crystalized Balt ground for table use. From the lake we stiil wandered but a deep pit soon barred the way. Here we were to be shot down a slippery board into the dark regions below, very much as if we had been wheelbarrow loads ol Balt rocks, to be dumped down a chute. Protests were of no avail, this was the route laid down, and unless we wished to be left behind in the dark mines, we must follow it. We meekly took our place astride the long board until we were a closely packed mass of absurd humanity, men and women together. The guide, by means of a rope, kept us from slipping until we were safely on. Then, our limbs close to the earth, our lan terns welt in front, and fearfully clutch- 4 ing our neighbors’ shoulders, we were shot like lightning down the smoothly polished plane, bringing up with a bang in the bottom of the nit. It was all so sudden and breath-taking that we scarcely realized what had happened un til we were on our feet. The pit into which we had made such a sudden entry had a still deeper pit in the centre of it which was railed for safety and hung round with hun dreds of miners’ lanterns. This pit, we were told, had once been a briny lake like that we had just passed, but it had long ago been drained, revealing one of the richest veins in the mine. A shaft of over 305 feet in depth had been sunk here, yielding pure salt all the way, and its limit had not been reached. No miners were then at work here, as, ow ing to the danger from blasting, all work is suspended during the hours de voted to visitors. Another shute carried us into the bot tom of the cavern, and from here an othgy long tunnel was traversed, which led into a little show room. The miners had here arranged the prettiest bits of salt formations into fanciful shapes,deco-1 rated with small salt fountains and lan terns. Bits of salt rock were here pre sented as souvenirs, and we were then placed astride a long cushioned board on wheels. In this way we went thunder ing down the long galleries at dizzy , speed, soon rolling into the blue light of day. According to an expert, French cooks oery generally use carbonate of ammo nia.to preserve the color of vegetables. What would lav on the point of a pen knife is mixed in the water in which the vegetables are boiled.