'V»J-jSJ!ip U|IWIII|^iiJll J 1*1111 -^^Si^^ "6 worirf-32S2"5nj enunent DeDMit^'2"My_ nee soUcitedrAj22"»K ,A«tb^^ivK IUtb Masbbt's OB KiNDBED " Falsehood," " Bkatbics^s AMrnnoK." " Fob anufacturer and .u^^. cils, and BurninK ftlSTr ' for Catalogue. BASpn'iS- 37 Scott 81 |. STOCKMEN, givethUnb, 'pa'ation a fair trUL n promptly and effeotoaUvlBA. Ticks and other v.â„¢.^: J??* jvi not however remain prone ',trlong. The sun had dipped L^ flfming disc when .he I ^. td not disappeared when she '"^rmandweA and trembling, i'^f'mtly about her, her mind bo M 'Th Jt for a moment it refnaed y* e»0' '" „f i-ef azony and despair. Si^LSupon thf iter tha£^ «f 'y«! the erass, and she remembered eierf Jlg^d ^er bands to her face, '"ApCutoandfro, then caught *;J?i^^wSch. with its diamond â- »1 wore on a ribbon about her neck^ R^'flintrawav forever from sight teS between her and weafth. P. Wtnal proud self-control soon I'^^itelf • her furj' ^^ *g°°y P*»*^ ^/left her straining all the powers •/to find some way of securing "tfS her own hand had pre- fer from receiving. 1 to herfeet, leaned her trembling 'Steface against the tree, anS ^thousand pounds " fpot r of ,^rldly station what ' what almost regal life, lay 'words She repeated them she picked up her hat, and, she walked, groped her way ' ick toward InotciwldiB ^iotiosd thi*. three rtimes! ZT T '" oneep are MMtrt^^Hmne as a"" ..-•"â€". PT. FIRST NEXT. C. (TflU. (END AT OMCI fOK o{ Seoond-Hand 1 FreBitUVrni*,j New Catalogn* Bei^f UA iCLAIDC ST. CTORONTa. of fine work. Mfai. of Pilu l M if U )tal Fumiture. SendteidoMi '8 BiRTHDAYl BLAUtiful Imported BirtbdirOHdl tnybaby whose mother will •tBt les of two or more other hafaii^Mdfl snts' addresses Also a handnml id D;e Sample Card to tlM motel :h valuable information. RIcbardaca de C*., 1 J.L.JONES OD ENGRAVER 10 King S' East TORONTO. rHE WELL-KNQWN (our vears. Try also PEERl cLr Wi?ona and Horse Poweia by CO. TORONTa jist and Ulnstittted ,^=nlyachance,"8hemuttered-"only " but he is a fool, a rash, hot-head- 'idl can but try- Oh, I c flmU not give up without a can but strng- CHAPTERIV. l«cbovle Castle, on the banks of the .had never looked more melancholy fit did on the wet June evening when Lter lay dead within its walls. A KL over the river, and the murmur leMter as it beat against the salmon- lyow.andthe slow unceasing tollmg Ichnrch bell some way down the stream, Tie only sounds that disturbed the t unnatural silence. The whole place ,red to recognize the presence of death lit chamber where lay the body of Mark 6 servants! hall there were signs of merriment and secret and ghastly „, while the late master's failings and minings were discussed in quiet whis- There were no tears shed when I village church bell announced that ihojle of Verachoyle had depsurted this ven his nephew and presumed heir ed only a q iiite sorrow. The old man „t been loved. eKene outside the Castle, viewed from istwreathed paths by the cliff above T, was a melancholy one indeed and fcljim Neville seemed to think as he and down, the tall gray wall of e on one side, a hedge of dew-filled J upon the other. The young man's I we a sorrowful look as he walked and for, honest and generous- hearted b he was, even he could not give up itwealth and high social position with- ipuig. â- jtcinth however was first in his heart. Ithottght of her even subdued the intense I pusionate love that an Irishman bears Be home of his race while it pleased a romantic, unpractical side of the mu's character to be disinherited for And yet he seemed very much i aa he paced slowly backwards and ilong the river walk. 1 1 undo what I have done even if d! Dol regret it for a single instant " ied himself, looking down, upon the Dig Titer. "Xoâ€" a thousand times no proud, beautiful darling! If it were lione, and 1 knew all, I would set my- Itomnand wed her, and would fdve up P own free will what I must now'give fiaecessity. Yes better our little home "osr love for each other than this stately n.6 and those rich lands witi a broken a dreary and desolate hearth. I am (pier than ever money could make me pisniorethanallthe gold in the world lighted window high up in a grey „wi. which ooold jnat be seen in the dnfaws^ "^Well^" he continned, a^ the other nude no reply, "I really couldn't take it so ddlefnUy as yon do-^Ioonldn'toommandeonittenanoe. I hope, Glynn, yon are not thfaUng of the beat form of words in which to^re my father the sack We've been agenti to Verschoyle and Shangannon for time gen- erations now, and I hope to inherit the post and the chain shirt just as he .did. He paused, expe^tpg as a matterof conrae an instant disclaimer from his friend bat, to, his surprise, Glynn hesitated, reddened and, without answering, looked across the, hed|;e of roses down towards the river. In reality, he was in obedience to the telegram in bis pocket, stifling an ardent derire to tell his friend the trath and cease to mas- qnerade in false colours. "Why," exclaimed Garret, watdiing him, and scarcely knowing whether to be offend- ed or not, "you surely don't mean " He stopped suddenly, bewildered. "No, no, Garret, of course; no matter who gets the estate, the Crofts manage it but you know, until the will is read " He stammered and checked himself abmptiy on the very verge of a downright lie, "Oh the will is all right, man 1 Yon may make yonrself easy un tiiat head my father has it safe and sound. Yon get the estates, the castle, the personalities et-ccetera, and Peter Verschoyle's eldest daughter takes the nice little sum of ninety thousand pounds. By Jove, what a catch 1 And a beauty you may be sure the Verschoyles are a good-looking family, and I have heard that her mother was something wonderiuL" said Garret cheerfully. Glynn fumed inwardly at this light and careless praise of the lady whom he so loved and honoured, and again he was on the point of confiding in his friend, when again the telegram stopped him. "Yes, ' Garret went on, unconscious of his friend's irritation, "and I've an idea that your uncles quarreled about the same beauty through her the younger in some way thrust the elder out of the property on her account." "Garret," interrupted Glynn suddenly, I wish you would not talk about these thinss now I cannot explain why, but I am really taking an unfair advantage of you if I allow you Well, I suppose your father has settled about the funeral " "Yes," said the other slowly, tiying not to feel offended at this sudden reserve on tke part of his friend, from whom he had never kept a secret since they were children to- gether^"Saturday I believe." "Saturday Well, that will do. I can go to Liverpool and back before then. Corlie in â€" I want my great-coat. I'll go up to Dublin to-nifrht and cross by the morning boat." Garret stopped, stared at his friend for a moment, wheeled round in front of him. and tapped him with an admonishing finger on the breast. "May I ask yod one question," he said, with mock solemnity' "without taking an unfair advantage of myself â€" yes myself and his blue eyes twinkled. "Well, ask it then," said Glynn, with some impatience, for he was not in the mood for chaff. "Do you know on what terms this is left to you? Because I do." ••Yes,â€" substantially." â- She walked a* U| djghdyaponhistt one loving wwd fr laek. 9* aa4 also a sabtl* IpddinaUe nonnsr, and oiisd e^fe^ » '"' 7""» â„¢y d«rllnrâ€" yon? Of ooorae Itakei*fwgni|ed thatyoa love me, w von would not ham mm, yoageseU to me; mtt, on. If yo«tr hufis bnot stcaaa enough to ^nt ont aU r^giat, vdiak wnl ito do i knew that yon wen onfy half won when we were married " and Iw damsd her hand in ""â- • They had tamed now into the lane by the chnrdiyard. She did not repnlaB him â€" she allowed her hand to remain in his ^thecanghtaglknpae'of her half -averted face, and e hopeless despair in eyes and moath frightened him. '^Hyaanth," he said sharply," teU me tiie troth I Have I the loss rf this numoy to' fight against as well as yonr indiffarence " "Myindiffisrence?" She stopped, leaned against the stUe leading into tiie ehnrchyard and uttered the words in slow, laqquid ac- cents, adding after a pause, " Have I not married you Glynn f She i^peared qidte cool, but th^ie was a bitter earnestness in her voice and manner, as if beneath her icy composure there glow- ed a very furnace of pasuon. " Yes," he said, looking down upcm her cold clear-cut face â€" "yes. Hyacinth, dear wife, you married .me because you loved me, but, oh, your love is not like mine 1 It is in- difference compared with what I feel for you. Therefore I am aud that until this yoiug heart" â€" and he passed his arm about her waist â€" " learns to find all its wants in me â€" learns to love me as I would be oved â€" it will regret perhaps " At these words she made her first I uiHlmnnik. HOUSEHOLD. s «ij iMayjstsbta^osrfalel Take oat fiie boM iii i Isft wMi iat and apiass. La it will ham^ for nsfe.. ^Km^ It III day nnlil it « last words fell slowly and hesitatingly '018 lips, and the sorrowful aspect of leoitntenance deepened just as the gray â- tciiangedtorainand the evening dark- «iiito night. He paused in his restless Mad heedless of the falling rain, began *fflgM the wet roses, while his thoughts ?w« shape. *B for her I tremble, not mysel I lalLthis almost without a regret. love her with all my heart and t her love for me is not like mine I yet, and I fear that the loss of her i«T?? °?*"' ^^1*^ through our |Wui mar- en her heart against me, will compare the splendour she has ^^â„¢ «™ple home I nave to offer her. "nave given me one word of affec- enconragement, in the telesrram she I U- "T^" »?o- My heart sinks aiTV ' Oh, if it is so, if she i,t(i.f *!.,,"?*" ^^ money and dismissed Ka.„u ?i«t«n aloud, in a tone of ir««»bt that was almost Uke a cry t^JJ^Mhetook a telegram from his ^« and began turning it about iV^^^^"" ^f" readujg it-for j^^Muldhave repeated tbelrords of "I'atnntillseeyou. Come here ^^ ' .*?^ ^« was still looking at ijhi^^y to gather from its few iiaott°^"'=*^ it was forwarded, "»Zii y '"•*â€" iinmistakable the '!rft*°^-«^edout- tlJL«ere Glynn, Why, man, you i^?7™«to mope and listen to the J' *re you " ^o^h for that these thirty J «n 1 can hear it very plainly L^ftnJ"'*^ *» think-1 have a Garret," 'Then, Glynn, don t rush back to Herby, where you have been sc long. I know what you are going for, of course. The beautiful cousin of whom you have spoken in your letters so often has fascinated you you are going to tell her the great news, bid her an eternal farewell, and stay and marry her, ruinmg both. Oh, I know you, Glynn "' "Stop, Garretâ€" stop, for Heaven's sake Did I not ask you to refrain from talking of these things now. Of course you don t understand, and I dare say you think me very strange and odd but you will know all soon, and then you will see that, had I allowed you to go on chattering hke this, I thould have been a downright cad-- indeed feel like one at present said Glynn. "Very-well we will not quarrel over it. replied the other soberly. "I suppose you have some reason for all this mysery. Come, and 1 will see you offâ€" it la ab.,ut time." CHAPTER V. As Glynn stepped out of the train at the railway station, about half a mde from Herby. and walked down tiie platform, his tired eyes, turned in the direction of the dusty /oad beyond caught a «!"«?«? °*» tall slim eirl, white-faced and flaxen-ha't dd, Shi hiart was fiUed with joy. -f^d the cloudof care almost disappeared f" J" brow at tiie fact of hU young wife ^Uung 8o far on tiie chance of his coming by tiiat Heaven forgive me for train. do^^igh^-f- 'thinking ".« tTie loveis onmr«^e.l" he said to himself as he hasten- ed towards her. ,, ••So dearest, you were e»P«*^,â„¢t have not even tried to w^PT^ ^^ ,,^ stopped »b^3[ «d turaed .wayjher^^ '^ht^^^Stio. ?ne"iBst«it I l^y, fa tiie homo^^^^l^J^ JS'U What are the ink of just now. J**?Sn^** Croft, a tall, weU- " gK^^ pair of merry kt^-wHift " should say yon ?5»tiB,T°*»d a year must require 2*W1,^*' wahze it, I suppow). '** »Z5°*'»^ my head, I tell you J*i^rL°'y especially as '**taL'^8rief i, banly doe to ^^ wd pomted towards a in the home wifl'alltiiat » no^W, for each »*f » X23b£ds of Verschoyle p,y waBsandtteteojiun ^^^^,,,i^xt lytiie No" «»"P^„^J^yownt Ah, ,^Hdng beside "», m? ©T^^" tfionrfita I and maae us ""•^'Tri.e woman was ever move in the game that she had set herself co play in which, if she won, ninety thousand pounds would be hers â€" ^if she lost, poverty wretchedness, lifelong regret and despair. With a low cry she pushed him from her, and th«n, laying her hands on the wall, rested her head upon them in an attitude expressive of bopelesness and misery. " Hyacinth, ' cried her husband, "Hyac- inth Why- " "Oh don't speak to me i'l know it's not your fault any more than it is, mine â€" and you are a man, and can bear your torture without shouting over it, poor wretch And af ter aB; it is not so bad for you; you can make yonrself another fortune â€" ^you have a thousand things to tmn to if one fails. But I â€" ^but I ' And then she could keep back the tears of bitter disappointment no longer. She was not acting â€" the aeony and des- pair within her broke through her self-con- trol for a moment â€" and yet no actress could have been more alive to the impression she was making on her audience then was this girl alive to the fading colour in her hus- buid's cheeks, to his look of surprise, in- credulity, and horror, succeeded by a sudden stony calm that taxed all his strength of nerve to maintain as he said â€" "Go on~-let me see in her true colours the woman that I have married." She obeyed him she wanted no second bidding; it was such an exquisite relief to her to give voice to the desperation in her heart that she felt happy â€" with a wild and stormy happinessâ€" as she spoke. "Go on 1 Oh, do you not know already every word I have to say, every pang I have endured since I read that letter and fell down in an agony compared to which the bitterness of death can be as nothing Have you not felt it also and will you not feel it more and more sharply every day when yourjiassion tor me has gone and you are haunted by the ever-present thought of what you paid for.me I suppose I ought not to say all this â€" ^I ought to accept my fate in silence. But I cannot â€" gentiewoman as I am, I cannot 1 I must speak this once, for I am only a girl, and there is something fiendish about my being defeated by the very consummation of my plans Oh, why did not instinct warn me against youâ€" me, who had nothing â€"nothing but my fair face and my good birth to lift me into my right position? Oh, what am I to do now?" and she pressed her head between her hands and wept convulsively. He looked at her, the red light of the set- ting sun falling upon her trembling form, upon her flushed, tear-stained, degraded "ace and, if her tears had been drops of molten lead falling upon him, they could not have pained him more. Still maintaining a resolute self-control, he said â€" "Yes, for once speak exactly as you feel. Hyacinth. Heaven only knows how we are to live our lives together but, my wife, I trustâ€" I hope that these feelings will leave you, that your young heart will turn to its true happiness, that you will be ashamed and sorry for every word you are speakmg now!" "That my heart will turn to its true hajh piness? she echoed, raising her face uid pushing back the long flaxen tresses that Bad fallen across her eyes. "I suppose you mean that, in selfish passion for yonâ€" a man whom I had not seen three months W«â€" I shall forget all that might have been if evU chance or fate had not sent you h«e? AU that might have beenâ€" the wealth 1 sold myself for, which would have been mine without having to obey a mastw for it, by which my beautiful sister, my wild untaught brothers, my fatiier and mothor, whom i r"e, would have been lifted out of this de- gradation, this ragged povertyj Oh, tiie Qiought of it bums my hrain 1 Tom to my teuehappineas-be sorry for aU I am saying n^ No. poor wretch, tiuit I shall not- " Do not pity me because I have lost a fortune," he iaid-" pity me for being tiie victimof aheartiess^andmaroenary woman. ••But Ido-I do In all my own misery I have so much feeling for yon Glynn, that Ipity y«m witii aU my heart f am not ro?aiitic and sentimental as you are, ...jd I Slook at tilings just as tiiey ar«^ Yon donotwant my pity now, you »»y " from your letter and your mMn«r towa^ Sel Lnost believe you. _,You do not f^ vet what is filling my hesrt with bitterness iSJu love meTW tiiis curious passion -^ rtrong as it is fleeting-make, you pre ^a^ a»t pleases you to «i mheritMK* Ston^«d^es;but, wh^ yon find Si^fwoman who has tihi. f.^ «»«* iâ„¢w !»^» von with any other feeUng than tt2c?Smd.^t inWtionto ruinimr I am iqttan anaaed at the indifiianBoe wiA' wfaieliteOliwrB leok on and watiA the small cmelties ^raetioed by their ehildrsB «n nnofTJHiiding objaots like birds, insects or small aafmalsi like Montaigne, I cannot batlMlievethata very good use in%;ht be madaoftie fcacy which diildreB have for birds and animals. Lodke notieed a mother who o^||« pracurad these animals for her children, but rewarded or punished them as they treated tiiem well or uL That mother waa iib£?dBly ii^rise, bnt a kind and a tiioughtfnl woman, for this was no other than entering her children early into a daily exercise of fauiaanity and improving their voy diversion to a virtue. I cannot credit a woman with any very great amount of sense or humanily who hands over to a young child a helpUas littie animal and looks on without a word of in- stmction or reproof while the child by turns peta and abusea it. I have not a doubt that if a child of superior size asked for her own littie one as a pet, and, gaining pos- session of it, first carreaaed and then abused it, this same mother would fly to its rescue as would the dog mother or cat to rescue its young if it dared to bnt I expect more of the human mother, and that is some exhibi- tion of reasoning hnmanity tq, distinguish her from the brute. In my own neighbor- hood, as in every one's, Uve sdme of the thoughtiees and indifferent mothersâ€" one I notice as more indifferent than the others she has four or five children, and the victim of their inhumanity is an unfortunate cat, who, in spite of their treatment, is actually fond of them. The mother looks on and sees their sport without a word of remark, and cannot help but notice that the cat's legs are dislbcated and the creature itself thin, tottering and feeble from constant maiding and torment. These children, being allow- ed the full exercise of cruelty to this pet, have bet;un to exercise it to small chil- dren, and this excites the indignation of the several mothers who are uie in- different woman's neighbors. Stoning small infants who happen to be toddling by is a new amuiaementfor this interestin|{ nm- ily of children who have never been re- proved for cruelty. But j ustice comes soon- er or later to pmish ill-doers, and the eld- est of these boys, trying his hand on ston- ing something larger than a cat or a baby, suddenly meets more than his match in the big victim he has selected for his subject the large boy swoops down on him, boxes his ears, and administers other swift ven- geance by taking him by his collar and shaking him thoroughly. Thereupon, the indifferent mother, or, rather, the selfish mother, who feels for her own ofbpring, but feels nothing for another's, brute or hu- man, files into a passion of reproach and anger â€" Aer boy is touched, Aer boy is in- jured. For one, I rejoiced that he should suffer for a moment some of the pains he en- joyed inflicting on others. Here, perhaps, £ was wrong, and yet right. The fault was the mother's, and many future sufferings that will come to her son's lot will be her fault likewise. If mothers would watch carefully and prevent the small beginnings of cruelties to animals and to each other on the part of their children, by reasoning with them and explaining and advising, there would be fewer criminals in the world, for small cruelties harden the heart and pave the way to greater ones. It is not the ten- der-heurted, the kind and the gentle who will fill our jails, but the cruel, the hard and the masterful spirits, who failed of ad- monition and instruction in their infancy and chUdhood. L' ssons of kindness, gentle- ness and humanity are never lost on the young mind, which is ever ready to receive them neither are lessons of evil, which are received quite as readily. hlBd 1 ttoaofi tt, aadaak* a om* of I to go o«ir fha tob sod kiMB the flam; fimn â€" ~r*^ I^ wei lonBa In 'an ovaa to bakvirakb a littia waAsr in the bottom, aai let it cook slowly from six to eight hoars. Leave.Qi tin itbeoomas eold. tbm take off theetottiMlideraatt and no better raUah for sapper can be daairad. A Nice BairxB.â€" Beat four egga and atiajn Hiemi mix four oonoesof floor very smoothly with a jbA oi milk add ft to the eggs and strain it again, and flavor the batter witii a half -teaoapfnl of sagar and a little grated nutmeg or dnnamon, as yoa choose. Batter some baking cnpa, fill them three parts fall, and put thom to bake in a moderately heated oven. They will take a quarter of an hour for cooking, aujl iiwell mixed will be equal to custard. BsET EssKNCB.â€" When the moat concen- tntted form 'of nutriment la desired for a low • patient, cnt up fine as much lean beef aa will fill a pint or quart bottie, as the atat^ of the case may render ^eainble. Cork up the bottie tight, and put it over a steWSy fire, in a vessel of lukewarm water, that may proceed to boil gradually for from two to five hours. No water at all must be put inride the bottie, aave ^what may come from waahing the meat off clean. The «nence of chicken is extracted in the same maimer, and in some cases is as valuable a resource as the beef, for restoring exhausted strength. Pour off the essence from the bottie for the use of your patient, and the meat left will be utterly tastdess, all its juice having been extracted. The Best Cakk fob Scarce Seasons. â€" One pound and three-qnartera of flour aift- ed one pound and a quarter of sugar â€" ^fair brown will answer perfectiy three-quarters of a pound of batter creamed; one pound and a half of raisins, seeded, and a grated nutmeg an even teaspoonful of soda, and a pint of milk, slightly sour, la«tiy only four weU beaten eggs. Add the milk and soda last. Bake in a cake mould, and you will be plei^ed with the xesult. This cake is ex- cellent as a padding with sauce, but still better in' flavour when kept imtil the next*-' day and eaten cold. Tne writer recom- mends this cake for the peculiarly delight ful taste, while it is certainly a most eco- nomical recipe. Fbied Chickek. â€" .Get chickens about three months old, and be sure that they are fat, for nothing is more indifferent food than a pioor scrawny fowl, especially when served in this fashion. Cut them up. as for a fri- casse. in quarters, so that each person may have a p»tion of the flesh of the fowL Dredge the pieces very well with flour, and sprinkling them lightiy with salt, pnt them to dry in a good quantity of boiling lard. They sfibuld be only of a fair light brown when down, not black and burnt-looking. Fry small pieces of musK, and lay them on tiie bottom of the dish in which the chickens are to be served. Prepare also plenty of nicely picked curled parsley, with which to ganush the dub. For a gravy boil halt a pint of rich milk, and add to it a small bit of butter, with pepper, salt, and chopped parsley for seasoning. Stew it a little, and serve with the chicken, hot, in a gravy boat. To Pbepabe mush fob Fbyino. â€" ^Take as much Indian-corn meal as yon think will answer for your family â€" a pint will answer for four persons â€" and sift it so as to clean it of bran. Have a stew-pan on the fire with a pint of hot water boiling in.it add a tea- sponful of salt, and stir in the meal, a little at a time, until it looks thick enough not to run. Do this as eaHy in the morning as you can, and spread it to cool in a large fiat dish. The cakes may be cut square or round; but if set aside for some hours they lighten and fry much better. In Virginia mush is invariably served with fried chick- en, and farther South.it is a favorite substi- tute for vegetables in scarce seasons. My Method For Making Bread- In cold weather the flour should be warm- ed. Dissolve one cake of compressed yeast in one cup of warm water use flour enough to make a stiff batter, pnt it in a quart bowl, and when it raises fiu it is ready to use. Five quarts of flour salted to suit the taste, two quarts of new milk scalded, and when nearly cool, mix with a spoon. Very 'early in the morning stir it down, and in about an hour after, mould it and put in the baking pans set it on the mantel of er the stove turning the pans aroimd occasionally. When the pans are full turn out and mould each separately, putting back in the pans, and when well raised, bake. In notdding ns' iust as littie flour as pos- sible to keep it i i stickingâ€" by working qoisk there will be littie necessity. Be very careful and not have the water too warm that the yeast is mixed with, also the milk should be cooled until lukewarm, and do not set the bread where it is too warmâ€" better be a little longer raising it. If half water is used instead of milk, I use a larg^ mixins spotm full of shortening. In very cold weather I mix my bread by 5 p.m. In hot weather I use the cup of warm wa- ter to mix the yeast but do not use the milk or water warm for mixing the flour and.mix aa late as eight or nine p.in. I do not cover uptight while raising, merely lay a cloth over. There is a great difference in flour, you notice. I mix mine with a spoon just as stiff as I can, with some brands it would take oKHre flour to make a stiff dough. My baking pans are made of Russia iron, 5^ in. wide, 8i in. 16ng and 3^ in. deep. My loaves when baked are at least 7 in. high and 7 in. wide on top. Witii a coal fire it takes about an hour to oake them with wood leas time. I have used my pans fifteen years and they are aa good as new. I turn my Inread quite often wh^ baking to have tiie loaves even. Always batter the top aftw taking out of the oven to make the cruse soft. I«t it stand a few minutes, then turn oat on- a board, never on a cloth, as warm bread will take the odors Irom doth. The next day my bread is placed in a stone pot and I never have any tionUe about its being too dry. A hard wood board ia better than sen. I have mwd a cherry one to turn my bread m. the way *««7«*f^ !!i^SS«r The ShedidBot sped^ â- nil« to Uiasfal Seo^ei. A SncBD Eotnro or Bed-.â€" To a roond twenty-five pounds t^e three aal^pebr^ two poandi Of agarâ€" el aDspioe, one natm^g, and a taa cop Mflfsalt. BeataUthe VAEIETIES. Paper for printin'g purposes is now mann- faCtored in India, but not a sheet of writing paper bas yet been produced. The Maltese is a most peculiar language. It is of Oriental origin, Arabic in its chief characteristics, but sprinkled all through with Italian incorporations. It has no grammar, is phonetic and idiomatic. Most sponges have a canal system, and there is a continual current of sea-wat^r passing through it, always flowing in tl£e same direction. The water is made to flow in that way by a series of peculiar cells .the like of which has not been found in any of the higher mima.lR. The sponges depend entirely for their life on this water current. The country-folk in Oldmburg conuder the magpie to be so imbued withi Satanic prindmes tiiat, if a cross be cut on the tree m wmdi the bird has built, she will forsake her nest at once. There are several: rea- sons for this bird's bad rmntation in the North of England. One of them is 'be cause she was the only bird that would not go into the arkrwithNo^ and his folk. Sh Bked bettnr to perch on the roof and jabb over the drowning world." The gavotte is mndi more modem than the minnet, and betaags to the last days of the Frendi Mooardiy. It is usually sap- posed to derive its name from the town of ^A, whose inhabitants are called gavou and gavotten. It is not in^robaUe that it was an old country-dance ot this region. Queen Maiie- Antoinette introdnoed it as a pendant to the minuet, other steps being snbseqaently added, so as to form what was knownasamiMte/defaeoHr. Iliereisalso a aolitary gavotte, wludi however can be danced only by professioaab. « Within the last few yearn the resaorches of Dr. John Evans have established tiie fact tiiat for afuU oentnry prior to Cesar's in- vaaiongold cdnswere minted by British kin^, sudi as TSa e o mmla i and y #i», o f whose existence wo possess no otfcar record. The Britons not oi^ empl ayad ttfc ^d coinage, but had asaaaHer eaniMM we metal which gave tiie Wand its «m^om- nunnal impcrtanoe. These tm tamfmme castfo wooden moalds, asm *^^^ inmnaion of the grain of the wood» whidi â€" â€" i-siâ€" ^10 foafts fol' hnaedby bytha tatioBBof tiw BrttfahtiB-Mida ishaficated la imi- «f tta Phns Bs n oatony sarityasl^tfA r "Vim liiT ^1 01 CUUIBU l^aK ^v Bia ft T: 'i -1 -T â- { ' V .. K^ II SBS^r- :fe:^x^s:.ti^i^^st**."" i-eT*. •â- â- '^^' !i64:^m IAS*-