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ohimbia HAKI.EM. OIXHIGIA I‘UBLJ>HF.R KYI !:Y 1 Uli RS DA Y Ballard «<• A.tlx.ln»oii. WtOIVMWMIfc The law recently enacted in low* not only req u re* that every picks? ■■ of but tcrine or < aaeine ahall l> ir, in letters nn inch and a half long, nn emphatic state ment that it is mi imitation article, but it rrqulrra all hotel keeper* and restau rant and boardinghouse keeja-r* to put a placuril on every plate of imitation but ter or chrewi that is brought on the table, stating that it is not the genuine article. ____________ Them arc forty-eight women Jnwy ’a in practice in the United States, dis tributed M follows, the states bring given in the order in which they first ad mitted them. lowa 3, Missouri 2, Michigan fl, Utah Territory I, District of Columbia 3, Maine 1, Ohio 4, Illinois 7, Wisconsin 5, Indiana 2, Kansas 3, Minnesota 1 (from low.i), California 3, Connecticut J. Maswar hu«’tl'. 1, Nebraska 1, Washington Territory 1, Pennsyl vania 1. The American hen is not doing her duty. Them are 10,000,000 dozens of foreign hens' eggs brought into this Country every year free of duly. The American In n- must scratch ni >und, says a New England paper, if they are to avoid the reproach of allow ingthe egg in dustry to be crushed by the competition of the cheap pauper fowls of tin- effete monarchies of the old world. With In cubators to help them the American hens ought to make a better record. lire acreage tn cotton of the cotton growing States Inst year was 17,32'2,383 acres. The crop for the season was 5, - 774,009 bales, equal tn 2,742,900.(111 pounds of lint or about 3,228,8118,033 pounds of need cotton. The great ex pense attached to cd ton growing is the Oost of picking. The lowest price paid f r pie', i ig in n V ol the Huathern States is fifty cents per 1 (X) pound* As the crop amounted to 8,22 X, 81)8,033 pounds, the cost of picking was |l 1,4 14,4 ID. ( The fill ma of Amcrii i cqil'il the entire ♦firlory of the United Kingdom, Finmw, Belgium, Germany, Austria, Hungary ??'* I’ortugal. Th- coni Mds equal th# extci t of England, Scotinfil i and Belgium; while the grain fulls gen erally would overlap Spain. The cotton field* cover mid area larger than Holland and twin- ns huge ns lldgium. The rice fields, sugar and tobacco plant itioru would also form kingdoms of no ins.- niff cant »ir,c, and such is the stage of advancement reached by American agri culturists that is is estimate I that one farmer like Mr. Dalrymple, with a field of wheat covering n hundred sipiare tnllev, can raise ns much grain with 400 farm servants ox 3000 peasant proprietors in Franco. According to sonic sta is’.ics recent y published by an Indian paper, it appear) that the people of Great Britain are con Aidcrably behiii't other nation - in the 'average consumption of tea ]xt head of population. The Australians coma first with 7.00 lb. [ict heal; the New Z 'a luulcrs next with 7.23 lb. per head; while the Jieople of Great Britain, though appearing thir l in the list, consume only 4.90 lb. each. Newfoundlnn I and Cana da come next, while in the United States the consumption is only 1.80 lb. per head; and in Russia, which is always re garded a« a great tea drinking country, the consumption i.« only 0.(1 lb. ]>er head. Belgium, Sweden, Austria Hungary, and Spain consume less than the other Euro pean nations; but then' is not one nation on the continent, with the exception of Holland, in which the an nual consumption exceeds 1 lb. per head. There died recently in New York city at the uga of forty-four, a business man whose last hours displayed a fortitude and a tenderness that literature might preserve. While superintending the re moval of a nnc machinery he was throw n under the wheels of a freight car and had the flesh almost entirely stripped from one of his legs. While waiting for a sur geon he continued to give hi* orders to his men, and wrote a telegraphic mes sage to his wife to meet him on the arri val of a certain train. "1 have met with an accident,” it read, "but I write this with my own hand.” On arriving at the Grand t utr.il Depot ho was lomc on a ktieti her through the waiting room. As noon is In saw his wife in the crowd ho <n aved lii» hand t-> reassure her, saying r.ii ' >-t.b a_sj;i,lc. Her.- lam Annie." >\ hen t -M t*rr rtuiimb must b- ampu tated, All right," he replied, “only leave «ii -ugh foi me to ride horseback with." I'h innouucement a few hours laid that he would not survive the oper atioe, wi* revived with perfect calm mw- "Il’s mid,” he observed, dryly, •’that after dodging bullet* for four years in the wai, and alter fa< ing danger for twelve yvure in and around the mines, Idi uld at la«t be killed by a freight v:,i ’ lie next morning he wis dead, iia- 2 "stained his COUS. ioUillC'S and saimiK ** the < nd. A Singular marriage is repiorted by the Fredericton, New Brunswick, Gleaner. A D' Il tker claim dto have performed a remarkable faith cure upon a daughter of .lum'-s Young of Nashwauk. The vo ng l idy was unable t« walk for aev ( r.d rears except on crutches, and was b-d ridden a great pr rt of the tiro'’. H aring of her condition nn 1 that all medical remedies hail fade I, tho doctor visited her, and by Mime remarkable r e ins surer-ded in raising her from her s.< k bed. S!>c gained in strength and was soon nld • t i W i k w.tiiout crutches. Having in- o: ipl.-iie'l this, the doctor If re 1 hi i. in 1 in imrriijc, and tlio two were we Ide.). One of the string rat communities in tin world live* on the Island of Bcdondr which is one of tin- British West Indies, betw n Nervis mid .Montserrat. It is very rocky and bnrre >, and contains no vegetation, but Ims extensive mines of p osphute of alumina und iron. About fifty men work in 'he»c mine’, they being the on y per ons on the island with the exception of the foreman's wife. Their I y ivis ' 'n I. v 'o b ‘ brought from Ncr v.s rind Mont-< rrat in small boats. Thu men live in sniiill wooden huts built for th, purpoe . The climate of Redonda is beautiful and healthful, and the work ingmen enjoy perfect Jualth. The har bor is excellent and we.l protected, the highest po nt on tiie island being 1000 feet above the level of the sea. Canties of Dyspepsia. The saliva, gastric and pancreatic juices and bile are produced in very large quantities, H vend pints of each daily. Os r»‘.i.s.“. they must bo made from the blood, and, being continually absorbed, th- same fluid is ur. 'd over and over again rift r n portion bus done its appropriate work. Therefore, it is im possible for the nee-ssary secretions to lie made unless there ii nu übuiiduut supp'y of blood to the organs thus em ployed. Anything that interferes, with the blood supply will cause dyspepsia. If the blood its If is thia an 1 poor in quality, everything m.i le from it must be con pondingly defective. In this way, then, u p >or. ins' lli' ent diet, large losses <>l blood, profus discharges (ns in con sumption, etc.), the effects of such poi sons as that of malaria, lead, mercury and ol “spccifh di-.eiixcs," act as c u - s f of dyspepsia. Prolonge 1 mental wo7k, with s ilentcry habits, lack of bodily ' exercises, and of fresh air und ' sunlight, by dire ting the bloo I to the brain, lessen th- amount s'nt to the di- i gi stivo organs an 1 cause dyspepsia. Ex cessive anxiety, grief, worry or any ab sorbing emotion acts in the same way. Fatigue of the muscles by manual labor, if too prolonged or ex essivo exercise in amount, pr iduecs similar results. Dis eases of the heart or lungs, which seri ously inters re with the passage of tho blood through the lungs and the taking up thero of the vitally essential oxygen of the air, produ o dy-; ‘psia in another wav. The b'.oi lii prevented from leav ing the digestive organs; the lut’.cr, in stead of producing u natural secretion, pour out a v. ti. ry fluid that is useless so far ins ai ting up > i tho food is concerned, and crave digestive troubles follow not I) . ausc there is any “disease ot' the ' st ini‘.< li," but in consequence of a slow ing of the bloo I current, which must be very brisk i. they are to do their full duty. ~(67. /.?un) Globe Democrat. Furnl tire Lumber. Furniture dealers are to-day using lum ber which was called worthless ten years ng i. Whitewood or poplar is used in immense quantities, notwithstanding its warping qualities. The growing scarci tv of our natural supply of lumber leads manufacturers to experiment witli so called worthless varieties. Cypress is working into favor for architectural fin ish, and we would not be surprised if some enterprising manufacturer should come out with a most desirable piece of lurniture, possessing a delicate and finely marked grain,ami yet consisting of noth ing but unpretentious cypress. Hani pine makes a nice looking job when fin ished in good shape, but has the serious objection of being full of pitch. Cypress has much the same appearance of hard pirn, but the pitch is happily absent. The wood commonly known ns gum has <H« n successfully utilized. It is being worked into a great many forms, despite its well known warping qualities, w hich me represented as being so great that the lumber "will not stay in the same county tworueec-ive nights." Wo are informed that picture frames have been sm ees-fu ly made of gam wood, ami rumor adds tliat tile very qualities that have hitherto condemned it have been v.tili. ■ I in the manufacture of self-nn k iug cradles. F<»rr*f, b'orye and Farm, A Missouri Execution. "Aren't executions a part of your du tissthat y.>u'd rather dispense withf* :oked an E* t-.‘ru friend of a Missouri ►her ff. "1 never |wrfonn any cxectltlons." “Why. 1 thought nearly all sheriffs * ere occasionally obliged to hang some out t" "You forgot that this is Missouri. All 1 have to do is to make a show of defend , ing the jail key* and then handing them over to the boys at la*’. They attend to eve y thing after that."— Ksteßin* <Z>aX.) Opportunity. Be who shuta his eyes repining, When « shadow dims the day; Mav not s'* the sunlight ali ning When the c-iou ls bays passed away. • Only when the clouds are cloven, By the tempest passing by— Is the rain a ith sunshine woven. Then the ra.nbaw spans the sky. Monthly Advance. NONA’S OBEDIENCE. A lovely afternoon in the spring, when the balmy air and the fresh, bright toi lets of the ladies made a gala day even on Broadway. Philip Hays stood at his office door, thoughtfully pulling on his neatly-fitting gloves. I say "thoughtfully,” because that word just describes his state of mind, which was that of halting between two opinions—whether to go for his usual uptown stroll, have a comfortable dinner at the Westminister, and a little flirtation with Jessie Mabin afterward, or to cross the river and take a train for his brother's lovely place in Jersey. He told himself, as h- was car “fully button ing his right hand fjlove, that the cher ries were ripe, and that lie really needed <» little fresh air and country mi.k. But he knew of a far better reason yet, if he would have acknowledged it; and whnt is more, other people knew it too ■ Brother Will was wise enough to credit I his pretty siste -in-law with Philip’s re- ■ markable access of fraternal affection,and ■ little Nona Zabriska herself had a shrewd | guess as to what kind of cherries Mr. Philip Hays came to the country to I taste. Well, on this particular afternoon the country proved to be finally the more powerful attraction, and in an hour and a half after the gloves had been fitted to a nicety they were taken off again, that the wearer might clasp the hands of tho dearest, sweetest, brightest little coun try maiden that any man with the right kind of heart or eyes could desire to see. What Philip said to Nona, and wh it | Nona said to Philip, the cherry-trees and ■ the evening-star probibly know; but it was very delightful, and so satisfying that tho young people camo back to the house with< ut any cherries at nil, and presently there was a great deal of hand shaking and kissing, which ended in a bottle of champagne and mutual good wishes. Well, after this, for a couple of weeks, tbf.ro was no hesitating at the office door. Philip said “strawberries” now when his friends rallied him about his sudden passion for tho country, and the straw berry excuse did just as well ns the cher- , ries. But as tho weather grew hotter, the subject of summer reports became upper most. Philip's mother and sister were going to some fashionable Virginian . springs, and he greatly desired that his ■ little Nona should go with them. To tell the truth, he did wish she was a little more stylish, and would put up her curls, abandou aprons, and dress like Jessie Mabin did. That would perfectly i satisfy him, ho thought. Yes, Nona Za- i briska dresssed like Jessie Mabin would | leave him nothing to desire. He went about his plans with that > tact which young men who have sisters . easily acquire. A little present from ; Tiffany’s, and n modest chock “just for spending-money,’ made his sister Cecelia sufficiently interested in his project. "Nona is a dear little girl, Cecelia," he said. .“All she wants is a more state ly manner and stylish dress.” "If that is what you desire, Philip, why do you not marry Jessie Mabin? I thought you liked her well nough." ‘'Because, Cecile, I want a heart inside the dress—a pure, fresh, loving heart.” “It seems to me—But her- - Cecile stopped. She was wise enough to know ; she would be "throwing words away." The next d ffieulty was to make Nona delicately understand his wis es, and in duce her to accept the invitation sent her by his mother nn I sister. He approach ed the subject under the most favorable circumstances; the moonlight did not l>etray his confusion, and his encircling ann held her so close to his heart that he had no fear of not securing attention if argument or explanation became neces sary. "I am so glad, Nona, that you are going with Cecile. 1 am sure it will do you good." And then he stopped and kissed her for emphasis. "I go to please you Philip. I am quite well, thank you.” "Oh! but I don’t mean about your health, Nona. You little witch! who could have such bright eyes and red lips and not be quite well! I mean about dress and deportment, and those kind of things." There was a little ominous silence, and then a low. grieved voice: "I don't think I understand you, Philip.” "No, dear; and upon the whole I am glad you have never understood so far. You see. when we are married we shall live in the city, and we must behave and dress as city |MX>pl* do. Cecile will show you all about it, darling, so don't trouble your pretty little head." "I thought you liked me just as I am, Philip. What is wrong in the city that i» proper and pretty in the country, will you tell met" “Certainly, Nona. Your loose flowing h .ir and short dresses, and your frank, familiar ways, all so perfectly charming just here, would occasion remarks and unpl> asant criticisms in the city. I want my little girl to be as fashionable and as stylish as—as—well, as Jessie Mabin.” "Ah! she is your ideal, is she!” Much more to the same purpose, min gled with kisses and compliments, was said, but nothing in it deceived the wounded woman’s heart. For Nona, though not a fashionable woman, was a true woman, nevertheless, and under stood not only whnt had beeu said, but also all that had been left to be inferred. It was not possible for him to leave his business entirely, Lut it had been ar ranged that once a month ho was to pay a few day’s visit to the springs, and in the intervals be refreshed and comforted by regular and plentiful supplies of let ters. The supply was pretty fair the first week, but fell off gradually afterward, Until several days passed without any token of Nona’s faith and memory. Still be did not feel much troubled. He thought he quit: understood Nona’s rea sons, and at any rate he relied witli im plicit confidence on the < fleet w hich Philip Hnys in his own proper person eoiild not fnil to make. This confidence did not agree with events. He arrived nt the springs and found Nona out driving wit i Jack Chris tie—a young man whom he particularly disliked for his pretentious manners. He was on tiie piazza when they returned, und he was certain Nona saw him, though she kept her eyes on Jack’s face, and i pretended the greatest interest in his foolish conversation; for of two things Philip was certain—first, that her inter est was pretended, and second, that Jack’s conversation was foolish. Then he felt unaccountably and, as he very well knew, unreasonably chilled by the greeting of the splendidly dressed Nona, who calmly and nonchalantly ex tended the tips of her gloved fingers to him, draw ling out the while a pretty lit tle assurance of being “so glad to see Mr. Hays,” with the information that "Cecile had been expecting him since the early m rning train.” “Cecile!” he said, reproachfully. “And you too, Nona?” "Oh dear no, Mr. Hays. It is quite too exhausting to expect anything. One at a time is quite sufficient.” Philip was shocked and silenced for the time. For one distressing half-hour he tried to assume his rights as her be- | trothed, but she kept Jack Christie ner- I sistently between them; and so, angry and hurt, he sought his sister Cecile. "Cecile,” he said, “what a change there is in Nona! What is the cause?” “A wonderful change! I never saw a gir. improve so rapidly. I suppose you are the cause. Do you know that she is really the belief Jack Christie and Ed. Forsyth and half a dozen others are rav ing about her. Positively they are, Phil.” “Very kind of them, but—” “Well, so it is, you know. Very first families, and all that kind of thing, you know. Upon my word, brother, I believe Nona will make a sensation next winter. Mamma is quite satisfied uow.” But Philip was not. No, not at all. Very fur from it. That night at the hop Nona looked lovely and grand enough for a queen, her golden hair arranged in some picturesque style, which Jack Christie audnb'.y declared to be “just the thing,” yards of satin an 1 lace mak ing a track of glory behind her, anil gold ar.d jewels flashing from her head, her throat, and her wrists. All in vain, however, Philip pleaded for a dance. Nona hud been engnged for every set since breakfast, and she reminded him rather maliciously of the | necessity of conforming to the usages of ; society. So he had the satisfaction of watching the social triumph of the fu ture Mis. Hays. Three miserable days of continual disappointment and then Philip deter mined to go back to Nvw York, and see Nona no more until she returned to her country home. He bade his mother ami Cecile good by, and gave the regulation kiss to Nona, who received it with perfect placidity and many kind wishes for his pleasant journey ; for, as he was to leave very early in the morning, the ladies did not expect to sec him again before his departure. A* they passed out of the parlors Nona turned a momen’, ami n flush of the old tenderness made her face beautiful, her lips parted, and she hesitated a moment as if she would speak, but finally passed on and away. Pocr Philip! He took his cigar and sit down on the dark, silent bnlcony, miserable enough; but in about half an hour a timid little figure stole through 1 the deserted room, and without warn | ing laid her hand upon his shoulder. | He turned rapidly, all the great passion, which had grown to deeper intensity in his suffering, bursting out in one im ploring whisper of "Nona!” "Philip!" Well, you know the end. Philip did not like the fashionable Nona at nil; his whole heart cried out for the sweet, nat ural girl that he had never prized enough till he believed her gone forever. The tangled curls, the short dresses, ev»* the little ruffled aprons, never more looked homely ia his eyes. Bver afterward he bad the m Mt ’ ■■ >lc some fear of Nona turning fashionable; and she to this day, when Philip i» i“ the “opposition,” reminds him of his ona experiment in managing women, and as sures him that in thejlong run he wouil not like his own way if he got it, and so he takes hers, which, after all, 1 have no doubt,is the most sensible thing ha can do. — Harper'e Weekly. Crow and King Birds. Crows arc loved neither by farmers nor by other birds. “All a crow is good for,’’ said a Norwich (Conn.) farmer, is to hang up by the feet in a cornfield and skceroil other crows with.” It is un unsettled question whether crows love best to suck other birds’ eggs or pull up young corn. Spunky little king birds arc their most dreaded foes. They are not so big as a rob n, but tiiey have long sharp bills and arc- full of fight. They arc the natural watchmen of the fields. Even cats anc dogs are afraid of them, and the mere sight of one balancing himself on the top of a bar post or on the cone of a mullein will make a crow to quake and flounder away to the woods with absurd manifestation of prodigious terror. King birds had rather fight for feathered friends than for their own sake. A few days ago at East Great Plain, in this town, a couple of king birds caught a crow breaking eggs in a robin’s nest in an orchard. It was half a mile to the woods, and the crow knew as soon as he saw his enemies that he was in for the bitterest experience of his life. He flapped heavily into the air, and his bitter foes went at him. They slugged him in the head only, pecking at his eyes on cither side, and in a few moments one of his eyes was closed or destroyed, and he floundered about in the air like a steamboat without a rudder. He had not gone more than thirty rods before he had to tumble to the ground in a mea dow to gain a breating spell. On the ground his assailants could not get at his head so well, but they made the feathers fly from his back. Again he arose, and as he winged across the valley, driving up and down and plunging and half turning his big body in the air, all the , little birds in the neighborhood—robins, bluebirds, wrens, sparrows and ground birds—gathered and chaffed and mock ed him. He was forced to drop to the ' ground two or three times before he got away from his foes. As he passed over ! a dusty road at the edge of the woods, : flying not more than thirty feet high, three big splashes of blood fell on the clear sand. Every feather had been pecked from his head, and the expres sion in his swollen and bloody visage in dicated repentance and a resolve never to steal eggs again. The kingbirds kept at him until he flopped through the thick branches of a spreading chestnut, and then tin y turned back, evidently satisfi ed that he would never be much of a crow thereafter. They could not get at him in the foliage of the forest. They alighted on a fence rail, and as they cleaned their bills of blood and feathers the other lit tle birds ce e (rated with song the tri- ! umphant termination of the aerial mill. —.V. 1”. Sun. The Fish of the Jordan. The most characteristic fishes of the Lake of Galilee belong to the family of Chromidae, three species of which are . figured in Dr. Tristram's work. Chromis Tiberiadis is peculiar to the Jordan and its affluents alone. It is found in the most amazing numbers from the Lake Huleh to the head of the Dead Sea. “It is by far the most abundant of all the species in the lakes.” “I havesecn them,” continues Dr. Tristram, “in shoals of ovea an acre in extent, so closely packed that it seemed impossible for them to move, and will) their dorsals fins above the water, giving at a distance the ap pearance of a tremendous shower patter ing on one spot of the surface of the glassy lake. They are taken both in boats and from the shore by nets run deftly round and enclosing what one may call a solid mass at one swoop and very often the net breaks. They are also tak en in large quantities by poisoned crumbs thrown from tiie shore on to the surface of the water. By casting nets hundreds are often taken at once.” When they reach the Dead Sea, which they do in thousands, they do not get further than a few yards when they become stupefied and turn over on thcr backs, “while cor morants and kingfishers perched on the snags of floating logs gorge themselves without effort, and often heaps of putre fying carcasses washed on tiie shore poi son the atmosphere and afford a plenteous feast to the ravens and vultures.”— Edin. burg Review. In the Jewelry Trade; Magistrate (to new policeman)—Did you notice no suspicious characters about the neighborhood ? New Policeman—Shure, yer Honor, 1 saw but one mon an’ I asked him what he was doin’ there at that time o’ night. Sezhe:"lhave no business here just now, but I expect to open a jewelry store in this vicinity later on.” At that Iscz: "I wish you success, sorr.” Magistrate (disgusted)—Yes, and he did open a jewelry store in that vicinity and stole seventeen gold watches. New Policeman (after a pause) B.■- gorra, yer Honor, the mon may have l>een a thafc, but he was no loiar. .Ve« York Herald. UHILDKEX’S COLUMN. Alphabet of a llonte. A was an Architect shilled in his trade, B was the Building he lately had made. C was the Coping le put on the stone, D was the Dynamite—best let alone. E was the Entrance ball, spacious and gay F the Front door which stood open by day. G was the Garden where frui. did abound, H was the Hedge which fenced it all round. I was the Image which stool in the hall, J was the Jackass which brayed by the wall. K was the Kitchen for baking and stewing, L was the Border where cook won’t have you in. M was fie Master, w th lots of fine 'adiei, N was the Nursery, built for the 1 abies. O was th > Orchard, a l full of fine trees. P was the Pantry, for bread and for cheese. Q was the Quarter for lumber to lay, P, was the Room for the children to play. 8 was tl e Staircase all winding up high, T was tho Tower looking out on the sky. U was the Underground cellar for beer, V was the Vine ou the summer-house near. W was the Well where tho water was laid, X was tho Excellent drink that it made. Y was the Youth who these lines did compose Z was the Zany he pulled by the nose. Rev. James L ildyard. A Clever Humxninc-Dirc!. I'll tell you how a clever humming bird shielded her little ones from the rain. There they were, a nestfull, and the rain beginning to fall. The people who had watched the nest out of their window were concerned about the young birds, but the mother-bird evidently was prepared for the emergency. Near the nest grew a large leaf—it was a butter nut tree, —and on one side of tho nest a small twig stuck out. When the drops began to fall, she came quickly, and with many tugs pulled the leaf over the little nest, for a roof, and hooked it bv the twig on the other side, which held it firmly. Thus the half-feathered babies were kept as dry under their green roof as if their house had been built by a carpen ter, like the sparrow-houses all around on the trees. When the rain was over, the mother came back and unhooked tho leaf.— St. Nicholas. A Strangej’ Visit. That is what Dotty calls it to this day. You see, she was out driving with mamma, and a sudden shower came up; and because there wasn’t time to get home, mamma called at tho first house. It wasn’t a very iargo house, and it was painted'red, all but the end toward the road. That was painted white. Dot ty found time to xvonder about it a good deal xvhile old Charley was jogging up the lane. "I s’pose there wasn’t any more red at the store," said she. “’Relse they thought folks would only look at the face end. What doyou s’pose,mam ma?” But mamma didn’t suppose anything about it. She hurried old Charley along as fast as she could, but the first big drops had begun to fall before they were a l safe under cover. Then a minute more it was raining rivers. There were no little girls or boys lived in the red house, and Dotty felt th s to be a trial. But there was a man, and a women with funny glasses on, and a grown-up girl, and a grandma who told stories, and before long Dotty felt very well acquainted indeed. The shower lasted a long while—until after supper. D >tty was glad of this. There was a pumpkin-pie on the table, and Dotty liked pumpkin-pic, the way mamma made it, but this vzasn’t made quite as mamma makes pies. It was sweetened with molasses instead ol sugar, and spiced with ginger instead of lemon. Dotty’s second mouthful wasn’t so big as the first. The grown-up girl smiled. "Isn’t your pie good?” she asked. Dotty blushed. She was a very truth ful little girl, but she wanted to be polite. She looked at mamma, but mamma wasn’t paying any attention. She looked at. the grown-up girl. “It—it’s almost good,” said she. Then how they all laughed—every body but mamma, who felt for a minute ns if she would like to shake Dotty. Anu the grown-up girl pnt down a little plate of nice white honey in jilace of the pie. “See if that isn’t quite good, ” said she. “And it was!” said Dotty, telling the story to grandma. "Just the goodest I ever tasted of. They’re real nice folks, gramma, and they live in a red house xvith a white face, 1 ke our cow, and I'm going again, ’cause they asked me to. That was a good stranger visit, gramma. “Almost good,” laughed mamma. Youth's (,'ompanion. Changing the Voice. As the result of an experimental in quiry, Dr. Sandras, a physician of Paris, claims to be able to change the nature, intensity, pitch and extent of the voice in a surprising degree by the use of dis ferent inhalations. A few inspirations of vapor impart r. decided hoarseness, some vapors weaken the voice, while others strengthen it to such an extent that it acquires new notes, high and low. If tie same effects are produced upon people generally, this curious discovery must prove of great prac ical value to public shakers, singers, and all who use Ike voice considerably. It costs Maine yearly about S3OOO iu bounties for beass,