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=5 “Ho USE HOLD. For Those Who Visit. People who live in the country are pro- verbially hospitable. The" comparative iso- lation of their livu prompts them to eagerly “welcome the coming neat," and if they sometimes feel that t ey would like to "speed the parting guest,” it is often the fault oi the latter. When I wasachild and lived in the country, I think we were never without visitors, during the fruit season at least. I used to wonder ' 'mt mother meant, when, after the unusually long stay of some mere acquaintance, I heard her say, “Some people would hang themselves if you gave themvenough rope." Asthat person seldom made a second visit, in after years I com- prehended my mother's remark. a It makes a difference where you are visit- ing, and many of these suggestions will only apply to those who are staying with friends in moderate circumstances, who keep only one servant, or perhaps none at all. n this case, it seems to me, the first thing you ought todo is to make your stay a short one. Unless you are so situated that you can cordially ask your friend to return the visit. it is a pretty safe rule not to go at all. There is too much one-sided visiting of country friends. When you are on a visit, adapt yourself to circumstances. Do not let your too will- ing hostess send you a breakfast in bed. If possible, before you are asked at what hour you like to breakfast, ascertain the habits of the family in this respect and signify your pleasure in conforming to them. Re- member that in the morning your friend is almost certain to have household matters which require her attention, and see that you leave her free to attend to them. Re‘ icve her of the burden of providing enter- tainment for you by showing her that you are capable of having a good time by your- self. If she sees you reading or writing in a shady corner of the orchard or lawn she will feel all t e satisfaction of a generous hostess who likes to know that her guest is enjoying herself. Speaking of writin reminds me that it will be well to take your own stationery, so that you need not borrow here. Don’t ask her if she has a stamp. Give some money to the one who mails the letters 'to get you some if you have forgotten them. Keep your room as nice as you found it. If you are a woman, make your own bed, not forgetting to take the daintiest care of the pretty bureau be- longings so laboriously fashioned in thech spare moments of your hostess that she might do the more honor to her guests by thus daiutily furnishing forth her gueSt chamber. . If you are a man, fold back the covers of your bed to air, keep your clothes tidily hung up and the to of your bureau in order, and don’t, oli can’t, let your wash water stand in the bowl. It is not at all by way of a sop to the sterner sex to induce them to read this that I say I have ever found men more considerate of a hostess and her cares and duties than my own sex. Still another thing that is incumbent on the visitor is to endeavor to like and praise the food. It is one of the few cases where a little hypocrisy is allowable and you may “ assume a virtue if you have it not,” for the chances are that if you do not like it the fault lies with your peculiar tastes. Those who have “ notions ” about their food had better stay at home where they can be humored. Children are ,very apt to be iinieal and troublesome in this respect, and mothers will do well to bring them up with a wide range of “likes” in the matter of eating. There is no particular virtue in doing any of the things that I have enumerated. They are simple matters of courtesy that one's own heart should prompt one to do without any advice on the subject, and yet I know, from criticism that I have often heard expressed, that they are more honor- ed by the breech than in the observance. Somehow I have been very fortunate in my friends, seldom having had a guest in whose visit I did not take the greatest delight and few whom I could not ask to repeat the visit, for unless I wish a repetition I never ask it. There is at this moment a gentle girl visiting a neighbor of mine at the seashore whom I am sure will be asked to come again. Evidently she believes that rest is merely a change of employment, for she is never so happy as when she can assist her hostess about the house, or help with the sewing. Of course when one invites a visi- tor it is not necessary that she should do any work but, if in an unobtrusive way she can lighten the cares of her hostess, I am sure she will be the happier for it. Stairways and Children. A physician, writing about the different portions of a house which, being carelessly constructed, frequently lead to bad accid~ cuts, says : Often the stairways are too steep, the tread being too narrow and the rise too high, I and persons are consequently quite likely ' to fall. The ideal stair would be represent- ed by a tread double the Width of the rise. Children sull‘ermore frequently than adults from defective stairs. The not uncommon picture is presented of a‘inother or some guardian member of the family leading a little one of two to five years down a stair- way, holding on to the little hand, with the arm extended above the head, the stairway steep, the rise perhaps seven or eight inches, and the tread not a whit wider. The little one, with his weight half sus- pended, suddenly drops upon one hip in such a way as to bring the whole weight of the body upon that part. This not being repeated as many times as there are steps in the stairs, gives us one of the surest means of producing the dread calamity known «as hip-joint disease. When we think of the extreme frailty of the hip-joint in these little ones, how the bones of the hip are not yet firmly united together, we appreciate how necessary it is that the weight of the superimposed s.ruc~ ture should be evenly distributed over both hips and all the tissues composing the jomts. in order to avoid one part being subjected to more strain than another. Travelling With a Baby. To tenure comfort to the baby his cloth- ing should be loose and light. Ashawl will be needed for wrap ing about him in case of cold weatheres rights, and this will also serve to cover him while sleeping. A small pillow willelso be found a conveni- encc. A la: \a travelhngobag, with two OOlflpitl’r meats, Eleftieairnbls, devoted exclusively to the baby’s use, in which may be kept a cup and alcohol lunp for. warming the milk, also, fresh and soiled diapers. A case made of rubber cleth is necessary for the latter, although many mothers use squares of old cotton cloth when travelling, to be thrown away as they are changed. If a journey of several hours is to be tak- en, and the baby is fed by means of the bot« tle, as many of them should be provided as is necessary for him during that time, as the conveniences for cleaning are not sufficient to ensure proper care. The required amount of sterilized milk, Mellin’s food, or whatever isusually given the baby, should be prepared beforehand, and put into a bottle tightly corked. Small ice-boxes largeenongh tocontain this hot- tle may be purchased, packed with ice, and tasen into the ears with other hand bags gage. This will keep the milk fresh and sweet for a number of hours. Baby will want to be amused occasionally when he is not sleeping, especially if old enough to notice his strange surroundings, and it would be well to take a few of his familiar playthinge that are small enough to get into the bag, such as a rattle, spools, rubber dog, etc. It is better when one is travelling with a baby to secure seats in a parlor car, if possible, as there are many little services that the porter can render during the jour- ney, and the chairs are much more comfort- able if one must hold the child the reater part of the time. Most of the cars ave a separate compartment in which there is a couch, and, by paying a little more, the use of this for the baby can be obtained. Are Mothers fitsâ€"s Motherly ‘3 In these days when little folks are rele- gated to the care of paid nurses for at least twenty-one out of every twenty-four hours and the pretty woman who shows off the baby to visitors or who runs in occasionally to take a peep at it in the nursery appears to be only its mother in name, the question arises, “ Are the women of to-day less motherly in the true sense of the word, or 8 is it only because the altered living, the luxury of these fin de sisale days re- quires a different demeanor, yet which is only the superficial veneer over the true, sweet heart of noble womanhood?” Our women are so progressive, there are so, many interests nowadays that formerly were not entered into by women that home life and home duties sometimes ap- pear slighted, and we wonder if the chil- dren growing up in acircle where “mother” is but an occasional visitor will not come to regard the member of the numerous socie- l ties or the gay butterfly whose whole aim is the attending of teas, receptions, bake and dinners, as such an utter stranger that lit- tle confidence will be given elsewhere, scr- rows sobbled out into other cars and the great wealth of love that should be kept for that dearest one 3n earth divided up or , scattered about among these who have more time to bestow upon the neglected children of a mother who is wrapped up in social or public obligations. Perhaps mothers are just as motherly as in the olden days when “ the children ” were the beginning and end of every hope and every ambition, but if : they are the distinctive tenderness and all- a absorbing love in many cases remain skil- fully hidden by the whirling rush of their outside obligations. A Few Receipts. ‘ SPONGE CAKE, No. l.-â€"â€"Four eggs,' one cupful of sugar, one cnpful of flour, and a tablespoonful of lemon juice. SPONGE CAKE, No. 2.â€"Two eggs, three tablespoonfuls of cold water, one cupful of sugar, one cupful of pastry flour, one tea- spoonful of baking powder, one teaspoonful of vinegar or lemon juice as the last in- gredient. This makes a small loaf. Quick : oven. Srosos CAKE, No. 3. â€"Five eggs, one cupful each of sugar and flour, the rind and juice of a lemon. Moderate oven. SPONGE CAKE, No. 4. â€"One cupful each of flour and sugar, four eggs, one teaspoon- ful of baking powder ; vanilla to flavor. Sroxos CAKE, N o. 5.â€"-Three eggs, one cupful of flour, one cupful of sugar, one- half cupful of water, one and one-half tea- spoonfuls of baking powder; flavor. Bnnwwx Sroxcs, (a very old rule).-â€" Put together in order, three egg-s (best one min- ute), one and one-half cupfuls of sugar (beat two and one-half minutes), one cupful of flour (beat one minute), one teaspoonful of cream tartar, one‘half cupnt of cold water (beat one-half minute), one-half teaspoonful of soda, lemon and salt, one cupful of flour (beat one minute). Coans'rsncu CAKE, No. 1.â€"Four eggs, one-halfcupful of milk, one-half cupful of butter, one cupful of sugar, one and one- balf cupfuls of flour, one-half cupful of corn- starch, two tcaspoonfuls of baking powder. Conssrsncu CAKE, No. 2.â€"Whites of six eggs (well beaten), one and one-half cup of sugar, the same of flour, one-half cupful of cornstarch, one-third cupful of butter, one-third cupful of milk, one and one-half teaspooufuls of baking powder. Bsnnv Omanâ€"One pint of flour, one cup- ful of sugar, one egg, one and one-half tea- spoonfuls of hsking- powder, butter the size of an egg, salt, one-half pint of blueberries, made soft with milk, about one cupful. m - For a few brief days the orchards are white with blossoms. They soon tum to fruit, or else float away, useless and wasted, upon the idle breezes. So will it be with present feelings. They must be. deepened into decision, or be entirely dissipated by dclay.â€"[Theodore Cuyler. A despatch from St. Petersburg says :â€" \\-’hat is believed to be the largest acrolite ever known to have fallen is lying in the Caspian Sea, a short distance from the peninsula of Apsheron. The aerolite made a terrific noise as it rushed throu h the air, and the white hot mass made a ight that illuminated the country and sea round about fora great distance. When it struck the water immense clouds of steam arose, and the hissing could be heard for a great the tancc. Huge masses of water were thrown upward, and the sight to those who were not fri htened was an exceedingly beautiful one. enormous is the aerolite that it projects l‘.’i‘t above the water, and. save for its fused black crust, which gives it the ap- pearance of having been varnished, it has every appearance of being one of the usual rock formations met with along the coast. Scientists are deeply interested in the phenomenon, and several of them are male ing preparations to visit the peninsula to examine the aerolite. Further information is needed before credence can be the above statement, them on the.cars She did sit very still in church, and didn‘t YOUNG FOLKS. . . . Katy-Did and Katy-Didn’t. It was a riddle long unguessed, but I will tell the answer true, Just what it was that Katy did. and all that Katy didn't do. She did go straight to bed at eight. and didn‘t want to wait till nine : She didnt care for party gowns, she did set stitches neat and fine : creek her little fun : She did right all vacation time, and didn‘t fret when school begun. No wonder this surprising child is sung about with such dsaight Beneath the great round harvest-moon, on every pleasant autumn night. The Way to Manage Benny. Mame Short-ledge has a fever, and her mother has sent Bennie over here to Aunt Ann’s for fear he’ll catch it. Aunt Ann is going to keep him till Mame gets well if it takes two months, she says, because she is sorry for Mrs. Shertledge. He sleeps in the trundle-bed in Aunt Ann’s room, and he looks real cunning in his night-gown. When he first came, Marian and I curled his hair and showed him pictures, and played with hire all the time we were not in school. But after a day or two we got tired, and there were so many other things we wanted to do we couldn’t be bothered with Bennie. ' So when he came hangingaround with his - picture-book, we’d say, “ Oh, run away, ‘ Bennie ! \Ve can’t stop to show pictures now. By and bye we will.” Then in a minute or two he’d come again, and say : “ It is bimeby now, Jamarian 1” That’s the way he mixes our names up, because he hears Aunt Ann say “Jane and Marian,” when she speaks to us. Well, of course we couldn’t stop to show him pictures when we had all our lessons to learn, and worsted work to do; and besides, I am learning to crochet. So when he kept teasing us, we’d say : “ Oh, do get out of our way, Ben ! Don’t you see we’re busy ?” ' And once or twice we gave him a little push. It didn’t hurt him a bit, but he went in a corner and cried, and Aunt Ann , said we ought to have more patience. I felt : sorry myself when I heard him sobbing : “I 1 want my momma ! I want my mamma !” 9 For we had heard that very day that Mame {was worse, and her mother was all tired ’ out, but she couldn’t leave her a. minute. So then I told nennie that I would show him ten pictures if he would let me alone i aftertvards, and Marian said she would give him a lozenge if he would let her alone, and :_ so we got as much as an hour to do our own 5 work in peace. Bennie went and sat down i by himself in his little chair ; and he look- : ed so forlorn and so cunning I had half a imiud to go and play with him, but I just ! turned away and wouldn’t notice him, and got all the red done in the book-mark I i was working, before dark. I After supper he cried again to go home. i Aunt Maria. had one of her headaches, but she took him in her la and got him to sleep, and Marian and I ad a chance to do ' our sums. \Vhen we went up-stairs to bed we agreed that it was really trying to have * achild like that in the house. “ It mixes up your duties so,” said Marian. “ It makes you feel as if you did wrong to learn your lessons and mend your stockings. I know Aunt Ann actually frowned at us when we were ciphering l” I smiled under the bedclothes, for Marian never doos mend her stockings till the very last minute before she puts them on, but I agreed with her that it was too bad to be made to feel selfish when we were doing things we ought to do. The next morning one of the girlg in school , lent us a splendid book to read, but she said ! we must finish it that same day, for she could ' not let us keep it any longer. So we , thought we would read all we could at noon I to get astart. As we turned into our yard, there was Bennie watching for us at the window. He laughed and clapped his hands when he saw us, and we could hear him call : Jamarian l Jamarian l” i “ There, now !’ said Marian. “ He won’t let us read one word. Let’s go up to the garret and stay till dinner is ready.” So when we went in we just laid our books and slates on the table in the front entry, and slipped up-stairs instead of go- , ing into the sitting-room. lVe found a. nice 3 place up in the west garrot by the window, and there we sat side by side, reading as fast as we could, for nearly half an hour. It was a fairy-book. ' “ I wish I could be a. fairy,” said Marian. “ I could make so many people happy. Either a fairy or a missionary.” . I thought it was very noble in Marian to want to do so much good, and when Aunt Ann called us to dinner we went down with our arms arotmd each other, and felt pleas- fuw ant toward everybody. But the minute we opened the sitting- room door, Bennie ran to meet us, exclaim- ing joyoust : “See my pretty horses ! I drawed ’em all myself. Look, Jamarian l" \Vc looked down. It was my slate ! He had got it from the entry table, and rubbed out all my sums that I worked so hard over the evening before, and that I was keeping on my slate for that afternoon’s recitation ! I was so provoked I could have shaken him. "You naughty, naughty boy l" I cried “ Now you’ve spoiled my lesson, and I shall lose my perfect card, and I do think it’s too mean !" A cloud camcoverhis bright little face, and hislip quivered. I didn’t care if he did cry. I thought he ought to after doing such a thing as that. I expected Aunt Ann would scold him, but she didn’t; she only looked sad. There was no time to spare. Marian and I ate our dinner. and went off to school as quick as we could. Before the bell rang I stepped up to the teacher and told her how Bennie Shortledge had rubbed out my sums, and asked her to excuse my lesson. She was a great deal nicer than I thought she would be. ” Certainly I will excuse you, Jane," she said, pleasantly, " and you shall have your merits just the same. Poor little Bennie ! I suppose he doesn’t know what to do with himself away from his mother. I am so glad he is with you and your aunts, you can make him so happy l” I sat down at my desk, thinking to my- self that folks didn’t know what, a trouble Bennie was; but all the afternoon I kept remembering how glad his little face looked through the pane when he saw us coming home, and how timid and sorrowful he was given to after I scolded him. When school was out, and Marian and I went home, there was Bennie watching again, but he didn’t call out to us. We clapped orr hands and laughed, and then he laughed, too, and met us at the door. Something had come over us both, so that we did not want to push him away. We got the fairy-book and finished it, and we let him see all the pictures. Then we wanted to do our sums for next day, and I thought to myself: “Oh dear, now we shall have a time 1" But Marian said : “Bennie, want to do sums, too '3 There’s an old slate in the closet, and I’ll give you a pencil.” And then, don’t you think, that little mite drew up his little chair and sat down just as sober, and made little marks and lines all over his slate till we had finished every one of our sums, and he thought he was ciphering just as much as we Were. :Then he trotted up to Aunt Ann for her to see, and she looked as pleased as could be. \Vell, just that little thing, that seemed like an accident, has been the greatest help to Marian and me. \Ve haven’t had a bit of trouble with Bennie since, and we love him better every day. I wish he was my little brother. . “"lienhe wants to hang around us, we let him. W hen we are writing compositions, we give him some paper to scribble on, too. When we study our spelling, we give him a word to spell now and then. He is so cunning! He spells like this: “B-l-d, eat!” And when we work with our worsteds, we let him have a needle threaded and a bit of canvas, and he is just as busy as we are. He isn’t any trouble at all, now we have found out how to manage him; and when he thinks he has done something pretty well, his voice sounds so sweet as he calls out: “Look! Look, Jamarianl" A Dog’s Devotion- The character of dogs is as variable as that of men. As an offset to the cases, not infrequent, in which dogs have rewarded the most indulgent care by running away and attaching themselves to some totally unworthy stranger, there are cases, very sacrificed ease, comfort, and abundance to live in want With some poor and not ovor' kind master. M. G. de Cherville, a French gentleman who has recently written about dogs, tells a true story of a dog which he calls Tapin- Saqui that well illustrates this devotion. M. de Cherville has a large country place, with stables, lawns and everything to make life attractive to a do . He also has sever- al dogs. One day eter, his gardener, brought home a wounded dog in his arms, and told a. pitiful story concerning it. It had belonged to a travelling mountebank, and had been run over by a carriage. Its leg was broken, so that it could not walk, and the mountebank, who had his wife and little daughter with him, could not carr the wounded dog. He had begged Peter, who was a witness cf the accident, to take it home and (hire for it until he, the mounte- bank could return that way, which, he said, would be in about three months; and he promised to pay for the dog’s board at the rate of two cents a day. The gardener scorned this offer, but he very tender-heartedly carried home the dog, trusting to his master’s humane impulses to permit him to take the creature in. .. Although M. de Cherville thought he had quite enough dogs. he allowed, Peter to make up a bed for the sufierer in the stable. Peter skillfully set the broken leg and out it in splints. In two or three days it was going about easily on three legs, and in due time resumed the full useof the broken limb. The dog was called Saqui by’Petcr, for that was the name of the mouutebank who had owed him. The little animal was not a thing of beauty. He was yellow, with several tawny spots upon him ; he belonged to no breed in particular, but to several in general. But he had various tricks in which Peter was very fond of exercising him; and the gardener soon became so fond of his worth- less protege that his master’s Gordon setters and pointers were well nigh neglected. Indeed, probably no dog ever had a bet- ter time than Saqui. Peter fed him, car- essed him, gave him the nicest possible places to sleep and play in. The other dogs were kind to him, and he was apparently perfectly happy. He grew fatwand sleek, and bore little resemblance to the half- starved creature whom Peter had brought home from the mountcbank’s. Three months went by, and there was no sign of the returning inountebank. Six monthsâ€"-a year passed. Peter was satis- fied the man would never come back. Six months more went by, M. de Cherville was out in his yard one day, when he heard a great barking and yelping in the direction of the high, barred iron front gate. He looked ; there was Saqui, leaping, bound- ing, whirling, hurling himself against the bars in an ecstasy of delight; and on the other side of the gate was a rugged girl about twelve years old. “ He's our Tapin,” screamed the girl ; “ it’s our own little dog ; dear Tapin lBut how fat he’s got l” " The dog was licking her hands through the bars and whining with joy. The girl turned I awayâ€"the dog trying vainly to force his, way after herâ€"and presently returned with her father, the mouutcbank. The dog show- ed the eame extravagant joy at seeing him. The man declared that he had been an. able to come that way again, as he had prom- ised to do. “ Ali, Well," said the mountebank to his daughter, “ he’ll never, come with us, now. Look how sleek he is ! He’ll never exchange his fare here for our po r’crust.” “ You had better try it,” sail M. dc Cherville. He opened the barred gate. The dog flew out, and followed his old master down the street. “He even ran, in advance of them," says M; de Cherville, “ as if to hasten their :lc- pnrturc. Even though Peter, his bestfricnd came rnefully out, the dog never once look- ed back toward‘us. I felt that Tnpin-Saqui treated me rather like a pulihcan, to be sure, but I held no ill-will towards him. being pleased to perceive that with the beasts, at any rate, pros rity and abundance do not cause poor on forgotten. unfortunate friends tobe â€". \Vhite piquedrcsscs have been revived,nnd are worn With colored sashes and full white mull chemiscttcs of plastrons beneath F igaro jackets, for dinners and high teas. The Don‘s Quinn coats and three-quarter length jackets have disa peered, and polo- naises and short empire ices with belts or sashes are to reign all through not only the summer, but probably next winter. likely more fro-fuentu in “Hell dogs the train load, and keeps a whole mon- PRBSBRVING NATIVE ANIMALS. no Bunnie and beer to be Seen on. a Pet handle Ranch. Cars run twe've miles in crossing one man’s dooryard in the Texas Panhandle. They stop midway. The brakeman shouts “ Goodnight,” with the emphasis on the first syllable. As the train slows one can ocean avenue of shade trees leading south from the neat station for a half a mile. The avenue ends at the broad veranda of a tastily painted mansion. The house is a striking centre of a group of shops, stables and sheds. To all points of the compass stretch the plains as far as vision can follow. The contrast of the well-painted buildings, the green avenuerand brown plains with their wire-fence divisions is sharp. The scene is fascinating. But something more marvel- lous claims the eye. Buffalo are graain on the short grass so industriously that t is do not won raise their reat shaggy fronts when the whistle noun 8. Moose are look- ing over the hi h fence and shambliug about. Elk and deer and antelope are scat- tered over the face of the plain, some lyii down, some grazing, some looking wit languid interest upon the cars. It isasight to be seen nowhere else upon the American continent. The younger fawns of the elk and deer and antelo huddle close to the does as if born wild, and not yet full rec- onciled to this invasion of the iron iorse. But there is no manifestation of alarm upon the part of the older animals. They have grown accustomed to this long, black, clanging, pulling monster passing halfb- dozen times every twenty-four hours. As for the buffalo, they take the change stolid- ly. One little five days’ calf, very shaky and wobbly on its bi legs, walks directly under its mother and fiioke out with lowered head and great eyes. These are the pets of Mr. Charles Good- night. And who is Mr. Goodnight? With- in 500 miles of the Panhandle there is no need to answer that question. A thousand miles away there may be an interest in the personality of the man who counts his acres by the hundred thousand, ships his cattle agerie for his amusement. To everybody in the cow business Mr. Goodnight is “Charley.” He is the greatest of the cat-. tle barons, kindly and frank in speech. More years ago than the clear eyes and good complexion and the black hair and whiskeis just beginning toshow gray would indicate Goodnight came to Texas from the Nort l State. When the war broke out he said he couldn’t fight against his kind, but he would go on the frontier and help keep the Indians back. He became one of the rangers with “Sul” Ross. He wasin and through that long, hard cam- paign of years against the Comanchos. This Panhandle country was the natural home of the buffalo. Here the buffalo bred. 5' From here the herds went forth in search of new pasture. Back here the remnants drift- ed beforo the storms of winter and found refuge till spring. When the plains of Colorado and farther north had been swept by the hunter who slaughtered for robes, there were still buffalo in tho Panhandle country. And when the cattlemen came in as the Comanchos went out of this favored region, there were still small herds of buffalo on these plains“ A buffalo calf or two strayed into the horde of cattle and grew up in civilized company. This was the foundation of the buffalo business with Mr. Goodnight. lie gave the stray calf, the last of a noble race, a welcome to his roundu . He found company of his kind for him. 0 added to this beginning from various sources. When fenced pastures took the place of the wild free range, Mr. Good- night gave his buffaloes the place of honor near ranch headquarters. Thus fostered, the herd has grown on its native heath un- til it is the finest and largest collection in existence. The buffalo chose his home Well. There is something in climate which encourages the highest degree of health in the cow brute on these plains. There were thousands of antelope in the Panhandle when Mr. Goodnight first estab- lished himself here. But antelope steak is good. And as the buffalo disappeared the antelope became scarce. Mr. Goodnight came by his collection of antelopes in the most natural manner. When he ran the wires around his great pastures he actually fenced in little bunches of wild antelope with his cattle. The antelope will not at- tempt to go over or through a wire fence. They remained in the pastures, growing tamer. until now those near the house come running at the sight of a bucket and hang around after their feed of meal to be potted. The fawn of the antelope take to the new condition readily. The elk are inclined to jump. It takes more than the ordinary fence of three or four wires to control their movements» About the clk pasture Mr. Goodnight has drawn thirteen wires. But this makes a fence that will keep Wolves and dogs out as well as elk in. “ Elk rather like to jump," said Mr. Goodnight. “ They will try mostanything low. Tth breed as well in captivity as when free. It is no trouble to raise elk. They calve every year when old enough, The trouble about keeping them here is that they ought to be where they can do some browsin . They don’t do so well on grass alone. Their home is in the mountains, where they can get at grape- vines and twigs. That is why the moose don't do very well on the prairie. ’l'hose I have came from the North, from Manitoba. They belong in a country where they can browse on foliage."-[St Louisdjlohc licmo Oct-at. Corn is a maize and a dance is a maze, which is pretty conclusive proof that there is a bond between dancing and earns. At Bath (Me. )coppcr-workcrs took a small copper cent and hammered it into a mini- ature tca~krttle. The words “ one cent " oc- cupy all the space on the bottom. Sleeves are Worn loss high on the shoulder, but very full to the elbow, with a long, deep, tight-fitting cuff, often in a contrast- ing material. Show me the man you honor. I know by that sym tom, better than by any other, what kin ofa man you are yourself; for you show me what your idwl of manhood is, what kind of a man you. long inexplica- ibly to be. Those who are fortunate euou h to pan“! them, are converting their ol black lace shawls into elc ant wraps. Th oy look vex y refined and la y-lil-‘e, t rough they are not worn in the old way, but are drawn up into a sort of wrap form and held in place by fancy pins. 0: . f l e .' t .