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SUN DAI MORNING, THE HAVEf'I OF CREAMS. MABI K. BtTCK IS CHICAGO IXTEK-OCgAH. When the weary day with its toil is o’er Ana darkness broods over earth once more, We gladly slip tJjpeugh the gates of night, And sail for a mystical shore. Ir. the soft-winged shallop of sleep we glide O era silent sea with a rhythmic tide. That lulls to rest each throbbing woe Our aching hearts may hide. And though from afar no beacon gleams. Nor mariner's star sheds its guiding beams Yet ever the unseen ships go by. Seeking the haven of dreams. And when we’ve entered that haven fair. The wonders untold that await us there! Back meadows of childhood we roam,*:. Basking again in the lovelight of home. The dear ones we’ve lost are with us once more. Just as we knew them and laved them of ydre; And none ever doubts all is not as it seems ” hile we linger entranced in the haven of dreams. S ° nijht meth t 0 mC t! ‘ at eott>t shad °"T When death draws the curtain we'll slip out of sight. And sail in a shallop like that we call sleep lo a wonderful land where no eyes ever * jg And the haven of dreams lieth white. His Dream Wife f T E—the ninu of this little inci dent, that took place one af ternoon this week in one of <T the skyscraping office build ings down town—was a young lawyer of considerable practice and some in herited wealth. She—the woman who held the strong, shapely hand of the man—was a manicure girl. The warm rays of the sunshine that filtered through the window glass in the young woman's daintily furnished “manicure parlor” seemed to smile kindly on the pair. She was a pretty girl wit it nat ural light colored hair and agate blue eyes. There was an admiring gaze in the young lawyer's eyes as he watched her polishing his thumb nail. After a few moments’ silence the girl ceased work, looked up and inquired: “How is your wife to-day . ' With a sudden start which indicated that his thoughts had boeu wandering the young man said: “Ah; oh. yes—my wife, she is about the same, you know.” “I am glad.” responded the girl, “for you said she was well when you were here yesterday." “Was it only yesterday that I was here last'/” inquired the lawyer. “It was, and you were here the day before that and the day before, and in fact every day for two weeks',” she said with a smile. He leaned back in his chair and gazed into the attractive upturned face of the girl and remarked: “It’s so pleasant here, you know: just to rest and chat with you —and —and have you hold my hand.” “Don’t say such things to me,” said the girl as she brushed from her face a stray straud of her golden hair. “Re member your wife—she might not like it.” “That's true,” responded the young fptlow, with a sigh, “but let us forget her.” “You must not,” sniil the girl, “for I have always admired you for the way you spoke of your wife. I hate men who abuse their wives to other women. I have always thought that no matter how disagreeable a man's wife might he nothing could justify him in gossip ing about her faults.” * “Do many men do that?” inquired the young fellow. “I know they some times tell their lawyers about their do mestic troubles, but ” “Oh. yes.” said the girl, “that's one of the most disagreeable features about a manicure girl’s life —at least. I find it so men come to us with their troubles. Men sit here by tbe hour and tell me what disagreeable creatures their wives are; it often seems to me that no man loves liis wife. They all seein to tell the same story -of a sud den infatuation, a hasty marriage and then disappointments and quarrels.” “It's simply awful, is it not?” in quired the interested listener. “Yck, it is. There was a time when, like every other frirl, I suppose. I thought of marrying, but two years of manicuring men’s finger nails lias made me fearful of marriage. I could not bear to think that my husband would abuse me to other women.” ‘‘l don’t think that any man would speak unkindly of you even though you were his wife.” said the young lawyer, as he looked full into the up turned face of the girl. She blushed, shook her head and said: “That’s the way all men talk—so I have been told—before marriage.” “I am certain I never could were you my wife," remarked tlie young fellow with a tender tone of voice. “Don’t you think you had better go now,” said the girl. “Your wife will expect you home 1o dinner." “My wife will not be kept waiting— she never dines with me. She—well— she Is a most disagreeable person.” “Don’t; please go,” pleaded the girl, “you know you always iohl me before how much you loved and admired your wife, r loved to sit and listen to your description of your happy home—your domestic wife. I know you said site was not pretty, but you told me she was dainty and refined looking; that she was so gentle and considerate; that she did not care for society, except when yon went with her. Oh, I know she must be lovely: I wish I could sec her and tell her bow nobly you have talked about her. She is all that I would try to be to a husband I loved.” She suddenly ceased talking aud sat with her hands clasped and her face upturned. The young lowyer arose. walked to the window and looked out. After a.few minutes of silence he again faced the girl and said: “Yes, that’s all true. I did say those things, but that was the story of a dream wife, an ideal, not the reality.” ‘•Then you were lying all the time?” gasped the girl. “No, not that.” <vas the response. “I was just painting my dream in words* —you know that there is nothing so happy as dreaming, and I have been dreaming some years about a wife—the kind I would like ” "But," exclaimed the girl with a per plexed expression on her flushed face, “you have a wife." “She's a nightmare.” retorted the young fellow, “not a wife.” “Please go,” urged the girl. “It's cowardly to speak so of a woman and that woman your wife. I am disap pointed in yon—more than I can tell.” "Ret me teil you of my nightmare wife.” pleaded the young lawyer as he stood directly in front of the chair in which the girl was seated. “I admit that I loved her very much, that our courtship was happy, roman tic and all that. She was an ideal wife for a few weeks, then all changed. To my faults she was always unkind. She became cold and indifferent to my de sires and fancies. She was cross and fretful. She became careless in her personal appearance except when she expected friends. She quarrelled with the servants, she neglected the house ■” "Don't tell me any more,” pleaded the girl. ".Inst a little more.” urged the young fellow. “When I sometimes—not of ten—came home a little under the gen tle influence of something stronger than.water, my nightmare wife did not wait until the next morning, when I had recovered, to scold me, but talked at me when I wanted sleep and began again at breakfast.” - “Was that so bad?” inquired the girl. “That was the very worst of it: a man with a bad head can’t stand a scolding. A wife—a loving, gentle, sensible wife—would wait until after the head had resumed its normal shape and then do her scolding.” “I think you are right,” sai l the girl, with a smile. “Do you mean that?” inquired the man. "I do: I know you are right." “I thought that I had not made a mistake in you—l have been studying you for many days and 1 am a good judge of character.” “I am awfully sorry you have such a wife. I loved the wife you first told me about. Why did you do that?” “Because I wanted to draw you out and study you. I pictured my dream wife and now I have told you of my nightmare wife.” “Which is ti:e real one you have?" eagerly inquired the manicure girl. "Whether I have the dream wife 1 think depends on you.” said the young lawyer, as he leaned over the girl’s chair and gazed Into her face. "I don't understand you,” retorted the girl. “I have neither a. dream wife nor a nightmare wife, except in fancy, but I want you to be my wife m.v ideal wife." Silence reigned supreme for a few seconds and with the glory of tiie setting sun full on her pretty face the girl softly said: “I understand,- and I will try.”—New York Sun. Pure Sunlight ami All-. Wo have often heard of “Sunny Italy,” or the “clear light” of Egypt, says the Desert, but, believe me, there is no sunlight there compared with that which falls upon the upper peaks \ of tiie Sierra .Madre or the uniuhabit- ! able wastes of the Colorado desert. Cure sunlight requires for its existence pure air. and the Old World has little of it lift. When you are in Romo again and stand upon that hill where all good Romanists go at sunset, look out and see how dense is the atmos phere between you and St. Fetor's dome. That same thick air is all over Europe, all around the Mediterranean, even over in Mesopotamia and by the banks of the Ganges. It lias been breathed and burned and battle smoked for 10,000 years. Ride up and over the high tablelands of Montana—one can still ride there for days without seeing a trace of humanity—anil how clear and s' lhiess, how absolutely intangi ble that sky blown, gunshot atmos phere! You breathe it without feeling it, you sec through it a hundred miles, and the picture is not blurred by it. Once more ride over the enchanted me sas of Arizona at sunrise or sunset, with the ragged mountains of Mexico to the south of you. and the broken spurs of the great Sierra round about you. ; :% all the glory of tiie Old shall be as nothing to Ihe gold and purple and burning qrimson of this New World. The Sea Trout. The gnmest of salt water fish, after the striped bass, is the weak fish or sea trout. The sport of angling for them is generally enhanced because, feeding as they generally do near the surface, it is possible to fish for them with light tackle. The best places to find them in the vicinity of New York are Ja maica Bay, the southwestern shore of Staten Island and the mouth of the Shrewsbury Kiver. While they have been caught weighing upward of twen ty pounds, a six or ten pounder is a good size and the average will only run from one to two and a half. There is never any doubt when a weakfish bites. He does not nibble around the hook, but takes the bait at one fair swoop and then starts off with it like a limited express with time to make up. He is a shy fish and the man who uses a small liiie, light leaders and snells to his hook, and keeps quiet while fishing is the one who is apt to have the best luck.—Country Life in America. 1 THE BRUNSWICK DAILY' NEWS. HMIL A Liberal Station For Cows. If cows are fed a liberal ration of palatable, nutritious ground feed night and morning thov require no driving. No dog or boy is necessary to chase the fields over to persuade them, but about milking time they are ready to walk from the pasture to the barn quiet ly. and paiis will be fuller, as there has been no excitement. Keep cows quiet and they give better returns. Tlius a saving of labor and patience pays in part for grain fed. Horses Preferred For Cultivatin',;. Slow horses are sometimes preferred for cultivating, but a fast walking borse dees much more work in a year than the slower one. If a horse travels twenty miles a day. and another twen ty-five miles in the same time for every working day in the year, the faster horse will travel 1500 miles more than the other. When working a largo field a horse may travel from fifteen to twenty miles a day. and a difference of a mile or two, when several horses arc in use, is quite an item in a week. While attention has been given to the breeding of fast irottors and runners, there Is room for improvement in the walking gait of horses. Variation* 1 n Vegetables. Freaks and variations in vegetables have been numerous at experimental stations. One of the beets planted for seeds, instead of throwing up a seed shoot, emitted branches from the root, and these branches, coming from the surface, threw out leaves, thus forming a cluster of roots, which have grown as annuals, showing no tendency fo seeding. A potato plant developed tu bers in abundance in the axils of its leaves. An onion of the white Globe variety sprouted into a top onion, tiie cluster of small bulbs replacing the top formation. Bi-annuals become au nttals, for rows of sorghum and salsify grown from seeds from plants which were bl-annunls one furnished annual plants the next year, thus showing how easily and quickly the habits of some plants can be changed by selection. Strength of Farm Horses. In trials made it was found that a pair of more than ordinarily powerful farm horses, one weighing 1250 pounds, the other over 1400 pounds, at a “dead pull" drew 1000 and 1025 pounds each. This was when the band was so light ened that the straightening of tin traces gave the horses the benefit of their own weight. With loose band, allowing the traces to rise naturally, each horse drew 300 pounds less. These horses* were both well shod. Another horse of about the same ap parent strength as these, but unshod, could only draw 075 pounds with a tight band. In each case file horse was hitched to the end of a rope about 150 feet long, having the benefit of the stretching of the rope as a relief from a “dead pull.” Tiie maximum strength seemed to lie exerted at each trial, all the horses being accustomed to heavy pulling. A Cheap Hal-n lloor 1.,'1l I'll. The accompanying illustration shows a convenient latch for a barn or gran ary door on roller . The inside view, a. shows liovv this may lie attached to the door, b is the latch seen from the outside, c is the block over which the latch drops when the door is dosed. I have used it on my farm buildings for a number of years and find it exceed ingly convenient and very cheap. It cannot get out of order, and if it is bro ken it can lx* easily and quickly re placed.—U. .1. Shell, in New England Homestead. I.oßatinff Jn Apiary. Where wild flowers and linden trees are abundant is an'excellent place to locate an apiary. On the farm such •seeds as buckwheat and clover can be sown and will yield a crop of honey-be sides the usual crop they are intended for. The bees will find any nectar pro ducing plants within a radius of two miles of the apiary, and sometimes they will fly even further. Bees need a great deal of water during spring and summer, especially in March and April: this is used to dilute the thick rich honey which has been left over the winter and make it suitable for the young larvae, so a brook or stream year by would bo desirable, although not specially necessary. The hives should Ik: placed southward, or east ward: a wind-break on the north and west is a great protection to the bees, a hedge ol’ evergreens or a wall of honeysuckles grown on an iron fence is a quicker way, as one does not have to wait too long for results. A hoard fence will answer the purpose if one does not care too much for looks. Formerly tall trees near b.v were con sidered an objectionable feature, for sometimes the swarm would go out of reach of the apiarist, but they are no longer a detriment to the beekeeper, for with the queen trap placed on the hives at swarming time, the queen is trapped and the sjvanr. will return to the hive in less than a half hour, no matter how high they may have clus tered. If a board is laid on the ground in front of the hives, it will prevent the grass and weeds from growing up in front of the entrances; an occasional handful of salt will also be effective. —P. G. Herman, in The Epitomlst. The Question of Breed*. There are certain characteristics that constitute the good, the best, or the ideal horse. It will be conceded by all that the horse deficient in such charac teristics is not the best or the ideal horse, no matter what his breed is. If there is one breed that may be depend ed upon to yield more of such horses than another then that breed would be adjudged to be the best of the two. But even that does not prove that one should buy or breed to the horse only because it is of that breed, for it might he a poor individual, and he might get a much better horse of the breed de cided by the test named to be the infe rior one. The discussion referred to should he made along the line suggest ed. and If it can be shown that one breed is productive of more good horses than the other, then to that ex tent it will be proven to be the best breed, and to that extent only. Breeding is yet too far from an exact science to be depended upon entirely as an assurance of quality. Tiie ideal individual with a good ancestry, and possessed of the prepotency that gener ations of line breeding imparts, is the one that is tiie best, while the poor in dividual. with the same kind of breed ing is the worst imaginable. The truth is that education and discussion should Ive devoted to equipping horse breeders to know a good Individual on sight, and to know how to use it, in reproduce lion.—Earns, Stock and Home. The U*‘ of Limn on Soils. Probably more general misunder standing prevails regarding the use of lime on soils than any other mineral element which we apply. A good many still seem to believe that lime is a ma nure, and that its application takes the place of nearly all other fertilizers. The best way to dispel this error is to state at the outset that lime is not a manure or fertilizer, and where so used a se rious mistake is made. Lime put on poor soils is generally a waste of time and good material. It never yet im proved poor soil unless the land was : otir or overfed with humus which it could not well digest. On rich soil, however, lime has an important function to perform, and it can be made to do it with great suc cess. Lime is more like a disinfectant than anything else. One should apply it to the soil much as a man would take some anti-bilious medicine. When the soil is in danger of getting congested and heavy with too much plant food a dressing of lime might well be applied to help it. Consequently, we find tiie use of lime in connection with clover excellent. Clover crops add a great deal of material to the soil, and some times there is so much in the* land that lime is essential to help Its digestion. Asa dressing on clover, lime pro duces the best results, especially where the clover has had a heavy stand for two or more seasons. Land that is fed heavily every year with barnyard or green manure will lie helped by a dressing of time. Sometimes the soil is so rich, but congested with unassimi lated food, that a dressing of lime for one season without any fertilizer is the Host thing for it. Because of success ful work in this way some have appar ently got the notion that lime is a good fertilizer. But it is not, and would not have* worked so well on any other soil that was not rich in manure to begin with.—S. W. Chambers, in American Cultivator. Ah llxcullcnt Corn Crib. Corn, unless properly stored, is liable to great damage by rats and mice, while that: which remains may become so mouldy even as to render it unfit for use. A good corn crib, therefore, is of the utmost value where this crop is raised, and for the generality of locali ties none are better than the one shown in the accompanying illustration. Not only will the corn stored in it lie abso lutely safe from the depredations of all rodents, but it is sure to keep in splen did condition. The in-sloping sides will prevent the rain from getting at the corn, albeit the sides are of open sin t work to let the air pass through. It can be construct ed any size desired, though it is down to not over five feet wide at the floor. Doors can also be placed under the eaves, and the corn turned in through them direct lrnin tin* wagon, in which case a chute is needed to pour the corn into and two men to do tin* work of till-' ing, one standing on a step ladder at the required height to empty the bas kets easily into the chute, and the other down in the wagon to pass them up to him full of corn. Generally, however, the corn can best be carried in by the basketful through the door at the end of tiie building, and dumped where wanted. The crib, un less very large, should*always be filled solidly from the rear to the door; if un usually wide, there may be a walk through the centre, with cribs on cither side. The posts, it will be observed, have broad strips of tin tacked about them. These stop rars and mice from getting up to the corn. If possible, the structure should be built at a consider able distance from all other buildings, and no fences or the like on which mice can find a foothold should run anywhere near it.—Frederick O. Sibley, in New York Tribune Farmer, ENOUCH TO SCARE THE MERMAIDS. A Bearded, Urvn-Faced Mojister of the Sea Seen by Truthful Angler*. ■T. B. Tnomer lias just returned Athens, Ga.. from a trip to the South Carolina coast, and has many interest ing incidents to relate. Among others was one concerning the discovery of a queer sea devil near MeCellanville, S. C. Mr. Toomcr. in company with George I!. Oongdon and Dr .1. E. Taylor, of Georgetown, S. C., made a fishing trip to Sandy Point, a long, sandy reef on Hull's Bay. opposite Cape Romain and Bull's Island lighthouse, just in front of tiie village of McClellanville. They were quite intent upon their angling when they noticed rapidly coming in from the ocean a strange looking mon ster. They ceased fishing at once and gazed intently upon the queer creature of tiie deep that had evidently conte up from its deep sea home. As tiie monster approached its out lines became more apparent to the eyes of the astounded fishermen. It had a gruesome, uncanny look about it. it gradually assumed the shape of a giant corpse. The size was far beyond that of any man living. The body was on its back, the ghastly face upturned to the skies. When within about 120 feet of the shore this sea monster got into water that was running like a race, and the whole body leaped out of the Water and was fully exposed to die aston ished gaze of the three fishermen. Its head was much larger than that of a man and was covered witli long, black hair. From the point of view of the spectators no arms were visible. The lower extremities of the body were blit dimly visible and their outlines could not be determined. This queer creature floated about for two or three minutes, then made a sad den reverse movement and started out to sea against tiie tide. In doing this it raised its head far shove the water and faced the three gentlemen who laid been so intently watching it. A flow ing black heard fell several inches lie low its face, and as a small boat with a negro in it approached it gave a savage look that betokened danger to the occupant of the boat should he ap proach any nearer. Then the monster sank beneath the water and rose again nearer the shore. It came up out of the water perpendic ularly, exposing about two feet of its body, and as it did so, Congdon fired at it: with liis Winchester. It again disap peared to rise again about every five minutes. Over ten shots were fired at it. but none took effect. The shadows of tiie night fell and tiie attempt to kill or capture this wonderful curiosity of the deep sea had to lie abandoned. Just then a fearful storm broke over the bay, anil the fishing party had to seek shelter under their boat, which they turned upside down on the bench. - Mr. Toomcr declares that it was such a sight as the oldest inhabitants of tiie coast section had never seen. AH three of the gentlemen in the fishing party were reared near McClellanville, and they say they never saw such a creat ure before in their lives. People along t In* coast will keep a close watch, and if it returns again they will make a strong effort to capture it.—Atlanta Constitution. American Concho* In South Afrien. The conches used in South Africa are built in the United States—at Concord. Most of them hold twelve people inside in rows of three, six people facing and six back to tin* mules. By experience we learned that the two corner seats back to the mules are most agreable. Luggage on these journeys is a consid eration, as it is charged for at the rate of a shilling a pound, but each pas senger may take a rug—or “blanket,” as they are always called—anil a small basket of food. Tiie great ob ject is to get ns much food as possible into a small space, for when we trav eled we could only be sure of two meals—one breakfast and one dinner— during the three days and nights of continuous t raveling. We made inquiries about the outside places, thinking they might be prefer able, lint some follow passengers, who were old hands at such traveling, ex plained that when the coach upset the outside passengers were those to suf fer; tiie insides come off, as a rule, with a few bruises, the others getting the broken arms and the like, and this outbalanced our desire for the open air. Not that one suffered from want of air, for the conch has no windows at all; glass would not stand Die jolting for an hour. There is a tarpaulin that one may unroll and pull down over tin* windows when tin* rain comes in intol erably. The sun one must bear, for if the tarpaulin is down it is too insuffer ably hot. J. W. Davies, in Lippin cot t's. Tattooing Instead of Branding;. Owners of pure bred registered ani mals are often bothered by the ques tion of how best to mark them, to dis tinguish them in case they stray, and to establish their identity under any circumstances. The central experi ment farm at Ottawa, Out., suggests tattooing in place of the more usual branding. The branding iron not only frequently leaves an unsightly and dis figuring scar, but fails to serve every purpose, since it indicates the owner rather than partiularly identifies the animal. The tag and button devices commonly used in the car are usually a source of annoyance, due to the apti tude they display for attaching them selves to everything they may lie brushed against. Various live stock associations have devised at one time and another more or.less ingenious, and less or more satisfactory devices to insure identification, but nearly all are open to the objection that they fall in a short time to serve the end in view.—Springfield Republican. Most men have as much faith in air ships as they have in air castles. NOVEMBER 9 THE LADY GIRAFFE. l’he lady giraffe for the ballroom was dressed Iu tiie latest decollete style. When a dashing young beau, The good-looking dodo, Stepped lip to her side with a smile. "My dear Miss Giraffe,” said he, with a liew. “You're the fuirbst of maids at the ball; And yet, if your neck Should grow longer a speck You would need to wear nothing at all.” —Fuck. _ Ji iroles ak “Their wealth must lie prodigious.” “It is. They own two automobiles.”-* Detroit Free Press. Me studies his geography And thinks lie has it tine. When someone tilings the soldiers out And moves tiie boundary line. —Washington Star. •Sim (after accepting him)—“Have you ever loved any other girl?” He—“ Sure! I can bring you half a dozen written testimonials if necessary.” Chicago News. “I hope there will he no mistake in administering these medicines.” “Have no fear, doctor lam a professional nurse, and madam is a professional in valid.”—New York Weekly. Stranger-" How did this out-of-the way place ever get the reputation of being a health resort?” Native—“ Why, tn.v dear sir, at least three prominent men have died here.”—Chicago News. ’i here was once a villainous tough, W ho receives a surprising rebuff' When In trying to jolly A chappie named Clioily, lie was handled exceedingly rough, - Philadelphia Record. Mrs. Dimpleton—“Why don’t you get ■Vour life insured?” Dimpleton— "What's the use? I’m well enough, and I'll probably outlive you.” “Well, you always did look on the dark side.” —Life. Stockson—“Are the officers of your new oil company prudent and far-see ing men?” Ttckertape “Are they? Why, they only own three shares each, and we had to pay ’em to fake them.”— Puck. Captain Smythe fa good soldier, but no society man, to the hostess) —“I have to thank you, Mrs. Brown, for an evening which lias been—er—after two years on the veld, most enjoyable.”— Punch. Mamma -“Johnny, I told you to go and wash your face and hands. When I tell you to do a thing, I expect you to do it.” Johnny—“ You're not much of a judge of human nature, are you, mamma ?”—Boston Transcript. Barnes—“ There goes Hiller in his au tomobile. How quickly he has learned to run the thing.” Sbedd—“Yes; I sup pose it is a faculty that is inherited. His father used to be quite an expert at tiie wheelbarrow.” Boston Trans cript. “I wonder if advertising like this.” said the unsophisticated youth, after looking over the department store an nouncement, “is really expensive?” “Wait till you get a wife who reads those ads and you’ll find out,” replied I’hamliman. -Philadelphia Press. “Well,” said tiie lady who was en deavoring to give the widow consola tion on the way home from the ceme tery, “Hie worst is over now.” “I’m afraid not,” answered the afflicted one. “The lawyer says there’s a bad flaw in one of the insurance policies.”—Chica go Record-Herald. The liuyer of Ileef. The buyer occupies a position of con sequence in the stock yards com munity. He is an expert, usually a man of middle age. who has obtained his education anil technical ability partly in tin* packing houses and part ly on the ranch. An experienced buyer is likely to receive a salary of .SIOOO to SSOOO a year, and he is worth all of that, for on his ability to tell, by a moment’s inspection, what quality of beef will lie produced by a steer thet lie never before laid eyes on depends primarily the excellence of the product issued by his house, and hence the in crease of its business. The buyer's work is not arduous, and to all appearance his task Is a simple one. Ho walks along the fiat board laid along the top of the fence, glanc ing keenly at the cattle in the different pens. Some lie passes by without a pause, others he stops to inspect more closely and occasionally lie displays his interest in a group by asking a question or two of the man in charge. Long experience enables him at a glance to distinguish between a grass fed steer ami a corn-fed steer, to de cide whether an animal is entitled to be classed as “fancy," “good” or “com mon,” anil to guess within a few pounds of an animal’s exact weight by glancing at . him. The buyer makes his purchases “on the hoof,” paying tiie market price ruling for the day for the grade in which it is decided each group of cattle belongs. In a few words the transaction is completed and tiie buyer's interest in the affair is ended.—Leslie's Monthly. IS 100,090,000 of Beef. The total annual export value of United States meat—of which beef forms the principal item—is in round figures $100,000,000. If we add to this the distributive sales of tin* various packing establishments in the United States for the domestic market as well, we line! that it reaches the enormous total of 1,000,000 carloads, valued at $2,000,000,000. Added to this is the value of the many by-products of the packing house, which amount to many millions more.—Leslie’s Monthly,