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 mimmm^ J â-  VWB! PPer^ rough owth (( ROUGHING IT IN THE BUSH." •d on BntQe ""'me it^ Daluvh. an one, r- I »«" e^ery «Lr ^^^7 Cared. » above named di^ hoMards of *• nently cured ^^^ "deis who Lre"^!' " r their El*" •» lotonto. "«f LcDdon " s- atium. A.P.429 for illuftrated n.i»i " I 1 t^^:^^ VA J- DOAN k 00 Toronto^Ont. 1 Tumors CURED J no k„„. kfree. DrsMcMICHAEL j;^^^«St^^Bufialo. N. yI I, ' English Sheere ianngs. Ottlera filled r: 9 lor pnoea. ^K K sour, e Market. Toro nto. I AVE ONE â- ^Jfiress, and loc. for 5,\\l* -.HANDSOME ind 1 he Magic Needle) ire8s,\Muton Novelty LEADING CANA N COLLEGE FOR OUKG WOMEN.^ Thomas, Ont. rtificated teachers in the 3 last year. (Jrad':atinjf Fine Arts, Commercial .ow rr 69, good boird, an Hail, costing S20,(H)0, rieg for Wi more stivieots. INC IFAI. AUST IN. B. r Mail SteamsL^s Portland everyTbond*; c Liverpool, and is ifuiii- rday to Liverpool, ssUiac ails and passenererf) fo't rem Baltimore, vi* Hall' p Liverpool fortnisrhtly he steamers of the Qlas- r to and from U^ifaz, ilphis and during sum intreal veekly Oissgo' Uicow ar.i Pblladalphia 3r Information apply to 30f8 3. Cunard sUo. q'8, Nfld.; \Vm. thomp Allen A Oc. Ghiaa,^ H. Boarller, lomto Wm. Broobie, PhUade- PoiJton Montreal- BUTCHERS, irederally* ourlocalitj to pickup satiafactorj guanaSy Pare. Vermo nt. tT. S. Sngines m ANY SIS. 53 AND FRONT 3TS. Toronto. n i" very essential to sa of every .voun^ man ^vomaa. Good Book- ind br Business men. HORTHAND ut pays. Constantly alars, contain:n? fuU oranches tau?h£ »na NESS UNIVER-ITV, to. THO8. BisaoroH, V Manager- OANS NC9-CANADIEN. $5,000,000. MONTREAL. DIVISION: ,_^ TORONTO. farm property at J^ I on favorable terms, tgeats, or to EOFUI«A LOHGHITIS UGHS ating Diseases Producer. a secret rcm^^ CHAPIER XVI.â€" (CoNTnnrED). Daring the winter of '36, we experienced many privations. The tuffiui aqnatter P from Cle«ur Like, drove from the barn a fine yonng bull we were rearing, and }i,r several wteka all trace of the animal waa ).,at. We had almost forgotten the existence -i poor Whiskey, when a neighbour called ted told Moodie that hia yeaning was at f 's, and that he would advise him to jet it back as soon as possible. " Moodie had to take some wheat to â- / 's mill, and as the iq natter lived ijnly a mile further, be calif d at his house md there, sure enough, he foon-^ the lost inimal. With the greatest difficulty he i;acceeded in regainins; his property, but not without many threats of vengeance from the j axtiej who had stolen it. To these he paid no regard but a tew days after, six fat hogs, ,n which we depended for all our winter itore of animal food, were driven into the ike, and destroyed. The dfath of these animals deprived us of tnree barrels of pork, and half starved 'is i.rougb the winter. That winter of '36, how jeavily i: wore away The grown flour, T-oBted potatoes, and scAUt quantity of i.L,imal food rendered us all weak, and the Liiildren suffered much from the ague. One day, j ast before the snow fell, Moodie '...^d gone to Peterborough for letters our «» rvant wis sick in bed with the airue, and I was nuraiag my little boy, Dunbar, who was shaking with the cold fit of his miser- able fever, when Jacob put his honest, ' c'und, rosy face in at the door. "Give me the master's gun, ma'am •.nere's a big buck feeding on the rice-bed lear the island." I took down the gun, "Jacob yon have •ho chance there is but one charge of bnck- iijbot in the house." "One chance is better nor none," said Jacob, as he commenced loading the gun. •What knows what may happen to oie Mayhap cie may chance to kill 'un and you iiud the measter and the wee bairns may riave zummut zavory for zupper yet. paoad the lore felt by tUi po«r ammal for bia playfellow. Hia attadbment to Spit, tkat could overoome the panga of hunger â€" for, like the rest of na, he waa half -atarved â€"most have bean strooK indeed. Jacob's atfeaohment to ua^ in its simplicity and fidelity, greatly resembled that of the dog and sometimes, like the dog, he would push himself in where he was not wan*^ed, and gratuitously give his advice, and make remarks which were not required. Mr. K from Cork, was asking Mootfie many questions about the partridges of the country and, among other things, he wanted Co know by what token yon were able to discover their favorite haunts. Be- fore Moodie could answer this last query a voice responded, through a large crack in the boarded wall which separated us from the kitchen, "They always bides where they 's dram." This' announcement was re- ceived with a burst of laughter that greatly disconcerted the natural philosopher in the kitchen. On the 2l8t of May of this year, my sec- ond son, Donald was bom. The poor fellow came in hard times. The cows had not calved, and our bill of fare, now minus the deer and Spot, only consisted of bad pota- toes ana still worse bread. I was rendered so weak by want of proper nourishment that my dear husband, for my sake, overcame bis aversion to borrowing, and procured a quarter of mutton from a friend. Thb, /ith kindly presents from neighbors â€" often as badty off as ourselves â€" a loin of a young bear, and a basket containing a loaf of bread, some tea, some freah butter, and ostmeal, went far to save my life. Shortly after my recovery, Jacob â€" the faithful, good Jacob â€" was obliged to leave us, for we could nc longer afford to pay wages. Whi^t war owing to him had to be settled by sacrificing our best cow, and a great many valuable articles of clothing from my husband's wardrobe. Nothing is more distressing than being obliged to part with articles of dress which you know that you cannot replace. Almost all my clothes ... {had been appropriated to the payment of Away walked Jacob with Moodie's "Man- wages, or to obtain garments for the children, -qp" over his shoulder. A few minutes excepting my wedding dress, and the beauti- if :«r, I heard the report of the gun, but j ful baby-linen which hud been made by the lie ver expected to see anything of the game; hands of dear and affectionate friends for my first born. These were now exchanged for coarse, warm flannels, to shield her from the cold. Moodie and Jacob had chopped eight acres during the winter, but these had to be burnt off and logged up before we could put in a crop of wheat for the ensuing fall. Had we been able to retain this industrious, kindly English lad, this would soon have been accomplished but his wages, at the rate of thirty pounds per annum, were now utterly beyond our means. Jacob had formed an attachment to my prbtty maid, Mary Pine, and before going to the Southern States, to j jin an uncle who re- sided in Louisville, an opulent tradesman, who had promised to teach him his bu«iness, Jacob thought it as well to declare himself. The declaration took place on a log of v/ood near the back door, and from my chamber window, I could both hear and see the par- ties, without bting myself observed. Mary waa seated veiy demurely at one end of the log, twisting tne string of her checked apron, and the loving Jacob waa busy whittling the other extremity of their rustic seat. There was a long silence. Mary stole a look at Jacob, and he Heaved a tremendous sigh, something between a yawn and a groan. " Meary," he said, " I must go." " I know ':hat afore," retnrnad the girl. " I had zummat to zay to you, Meary. Do you think you will miss oie " (looking very affectionately, and twitching nearer. " What put that into your head, Jacob?' This was said very demurely. "Oie thowt, may be, Meary, that your feelings might be zummat loike my own. I feel z ire about the heart, Meary, and it's all com' of parting with yon. Don't you feel quee'rish, too!" " Can't say that I do,' Jacob. I shall soon see you again," (pulling violently at her apron-string " Meary, oi'm afear'd you don't feel loike oie." " P'r aps notâ€" women can't feel like men. I'm sorry thit you are going, Jacob, for you have been very kind and obliging, and I wish you weli." " ^eary," cried Jacob, growinit desperate at her coyness, and getting quite close up to her, "will you marry oie? Say yeez or •vben Jacob suddenly bounced into the room, Uiilf wild with delight. "Thae beast iz dead az a door-nul Zuie now the measter will laugh when he sees 'jbe fine buck that oie a'zhat." "And have you really shot him " â-  'Come and zse 'Tis worth your while :« walk down to the landing to look at J.acob got a rope, and I followed him to -.tc iandijjg, where, suie enough, lay a fine rii-k, fastened in tow of the canoe. Jacob ;cn secured him by the hind legs to the rope he had brought and, with our united iit'orts, we at last succeeded in dragging our j.-i/e home. All the time he was engaged It: taking off the skin, Jacob was anticipa- ling the feast that we were to have and the ^cod fellow chuckled with delieht wjen he cacg the cprcass quite close to the kitchen ioor, that bis "measter" might run against when he came home at night. This actu- ally took place. When Muodie opened the ioor, he struck his head against the dead •leer. "What have you got here " " A fine buck, zur," said Jacob, bringing icrward the light, and holding it up in such .â- 1. manner that all the merits of the prize iculd be seen at a glance. *A fine one, indeed How did we come Vyit?" "It was zhot by oie," said Jacob, rubbing rig hands in a sort of ecstBkcy. "Thae beast iz the first oie ever zhot in my life. He ie he " "You shot that fine deer, Jacob? end ihere was only one charge in the gun I Well done yon must have taken a good fcjm. " " VVhy, zur, oi6 took no aim at all. Oie jciEt pointed the gun at the deer, and zhut acyoeysand let fly at 'un. 'Twas Provi- dence kill'd 'un, not oie. ' " I believe you," said Moodie " Provi- â- l«nce has hitherto watched over us and kept I.S from actual starvation." Ihe flesh of the deer, and the good broth â- â-  nat I waa able to obtain, from it, greatly s-Bsisted in restoring our sick to healtb; but .cng before that severe winter teiminated Te were again out of food. Mrs. had iven to Katie, in the fall, a very pretty u:tle pig, which she had named Spot. The '.ninial was a gre^t favourite with Jacob ^ad the children, and he always receivad his :cod from their hands at the door, and -tllowed them all over the place like a dog Ve had a noble hound called Hector, be. irreen whom and the pet; pig there existed ics most tender friendship. Spot always icared with Hector the hollow log which served him for a kennel, and we often iivughed to see Hector lead Spot round the -earing by his ear. ^Vf ter bearing the want i aiLimal food until our souls Pickened at •.iic bad potatoes and grown fljut bread, â- ve begam â€" that is, tiie elders of the family â€" to cikst very hungry eyes upon Spot but 1.0 one liked to propose bavins' him killed. Ax last Jacob spake his mind upan the sub- Swtft darts tiie light canoe. The merry loiters come. " What cheer?â€" what cheer "â€" ' We've slaia tin deer I" "Hurrah !â€" Yoa're welcome homa 1" The blithsome horn h sounding. And the woodman's lend haUoo And joyoos steps »n boonding To meet the birch cance. "Hurrah !â€" The hunters come." And the woods ring out To their merry shout As they drag the dun deer home The hearth b brightly burning. The rustic board is spread To greet the sire returning. The children leave their bed. With laugh and shout they come â€" 'â-  That merry band â€" To grasp his hand. And bid him welcome home CHAPTER XVIL The Littlb Stumpy Man. There was a littte man â€" I'll sketch him if I can, For ha clung to mine and me Like the old man of the sf a And in spite of tannt and 8ccff We could not pitch him off, For the cross-grained, waspish elf Cued for no one but himself. noa v "Oi've heard, 2 or, that th=! Jews never tat pork but we Christians, dooz, and are right glad ov the chance. Now, zur, oi've been thinking that 'tis no manner ov use t ::r keep'mg that beast Spot. If he wor a 20W, now there might be zime zanze in the -.ning and we all feel we»k for a morzsl of ceac. S'pose I kill him? He won't make a bad piece of pork." Moodie seconded this and, in spite of tee tears and prayers of Katie, her uncontb pet was sacrificed to the general wants of the iamily but there were two members of the nouse who disdained to eat a morsel of the victim poor Katie and the dog Hector. At ihe self-denial of the first I did not at all wonder, for she was a child full of sensibility and warm affections, but the attachment of -he brute creature to his old playmate filled as with surprise. Jacob first drew onr atten- tion to the strange fact. " That dog," he said, as we were passfaig -hrongh the kitchen while he waa at dinner, "do teach uz Christians a lesson how to treat our friends. Why, zur, he'U not eat a morzel of Spot. Oie have triad and tempt^ him in all manner ov ways, and be onw do 2neer and torn nphisnose wben I lioidd hua a bit to taste." £b oSsred the animal ib of the freah pork m» hm fi ii Mwd speali^*^ the dog turned away with an «zpnMioD ol aversion, and, on » repetitkm of hm Mtp walked from tiie tabla. ,^ Human aflbotkn ooold â- oaneqr bn^ ""• Tnis was coming closo to the point. Mary drew farther from him, and turned her heaid away. " Meary," said Jacob, seizing upon the hand that held the apron string. " Do yon think you can better yonrsel' If not â€" why, oi'm your man. Now, do just turn about your head and answer oie." The girl turned round, and gave him a quick, shy glance, then burst out into a simpering laugh. " Meary, will you take oie " (jogging her elbon.) ' " I will," cried the girl, jumping up from the log and running into the nonse. " Well, th%t bargain's made," said the lover, rubbing his hands " and now, oie'U go and bid measter and missus good-by " The poor fellow's eyes were full of tears, for the children, who loved him very mnch, clung, cryiog, about his knees. " God bless yees all," sobbed the kind-hewrted creature. ** Doan't forget Jacob, for hell never forget yon. Good-by I" Then turning to Mary, he threw his arms ronnd hu neck, and bestowed npon her fair oheek tht most audible kiss I ever heard. " And doan't yon forget me, Meuy. In two yesra oie will be back to marry yon and may be oie may come back a rich man.' Mary, who was an exceedingly pretty girl, shed some tears at the parting bat in a, few days she was as gay as ever, and lis- tening with great attention to the praisea bestowed upon her bcttuty l^an old baobe- lor, who was her senior mr five and twenty years. But then be had a good farm, a saddle mare, and plenty of stoclt, «nd was reputed to have saved mmey. The saddle mare seemed to have great wdght in old Ralph T b's wooing and I used langh- ingfy to remind Mary of her abaent lover, and bag her Jiot to mairy Ralph T h'l Bsfore I dismiss for ever the troubles and sorrows of 1836, 1 would fain intioduce to the notice of my readers some of the odd characters with whom we became acquainted during that period. The first that starts vividly to my recollection is the picture of a short, stumpy, thiokset man â€" a British sail- or, too â€" who cime to stay one night under our root, and took quiet posaesaion of his quarters for nine months, and whom we were obliged to tolerate, from the simple fact that we could not get rid ot him. Daring the fall, Moodie haa met this in- dividual (whom I will call Mr. Malcolm) in the mail coach, going up to Toronto. Am- used with tua ecctMiujc and blunt manners and finding htm a shrewd, clever fellow in conversation, Moortie told him that if ever he came into his part of the world he should be glad to renew their acquaintance. And so they parted, with mutual good-will, as men oiten pare wuo have travelled a long journey in good leliowship together, without thinking it probable they should ever meob again. The sugar season had just commenced with the spriog thaw Jacob had tapped a tew trees in order to obtain sap 'to make molasses for the children, when his pUns were frustrated by the illness of my husband, who was again attacked with the ague. Towards the close of a wet, sloppy day, while Jacob was in the wood, chopping, and our servant gone to my sister, who was ill, to help to wash, as I was busy baking bread for tea, my attention was aroused by a violent knocking at the door, and the lurious barking of our dog, Hector. I ran to open it, when I found Hector' teeth ciencaed in the trousers of a little dark, thickset man, who said, in a gruff voice. " Call uff your dog. What the devil do yon keep such an internal brute about the bouse fui id ic to bite piiople who come to dee you " Hector was the best-behaved, beat-tem- pered animal in the world he might have been called a gentlemanly dog. So livtle was there of the unmannerly pHppy in his behavior, that I was periectly astonished at hia ungracious conduct. I caught him by che collar, and, not without some difficulty, butfceeded in dragging him off. "Is Captain Moodie within?" said the sinranger. " He is, sir. But he is ill in bedâ€" ^too ill to be seen." " TeU him a friend" (he laid a strong stress npon the last word), a particular friend must speak to him." I now turned my eyes to the face of the speaker with some curiosity. I had taken him for a mechanic, from his dirty, sloven- ly appearance and his physiognomy was so unpleasant, that I did not credit his as- sertion that he was a friend of my husband, for I was certain that no man who possese- ed such a forbidding aspect could be regard- ed by Moodie as a friend. I was about to deliver his message, but the moment I let go Hector's collar, tne dog was at him again. "Don't strike him with- your stick," I cried, throwing my arms over the faithful creature. " He is a powerful aiiimal, and if you provoke him, he will kill you." I at last succeeded in coaxing Hector into the girl's room where I slmt him up, while the stranger came into tne kitchen, and walked to the fire to dry his wet clothes. I immediately went into the parlonr, where Moodie was lying npon a bed near the stove, to deliver the stranger's message; but before I could say a word, he dashed in after me, and, going np to the bed, held out his broad, coarse hand, with, ** How are yon, Mr. Moodie You see I have accept- ed your kind invitation sooner than either you or I expected. If you will give me house room for the night, I shall be obliged to you." This was said in a low, mysterions voice and Moode, who was struggling with the hot fit of his disorder, and whose senses were not a little confused, stared at him with a look of vague bewilderment. Tne countenance of the stranger grew dark. "You cannot have forgotten meâ€" my name is Malcolm." " Yes, yes I remember you now," said the invalid holding ont Us bninin^, feverish band. To my home, snoh as it is, yon are welcome." I stood by in wondering astonishment, lookinfffrom one to the other, as Ihad no recollection of ever hearing my hnsband mention the name of the itruifwr bat as h) had invited him to share oar hospitality, I did my beat to make Um welcome, thoagh In what manner 1||B was to be accommodated pozzled me not a little. I placed the arm obair by the fire, and tcSd bim that I would ]^epare tea for him as soon I ooald. " It may be as wall to tell yea, Ifn. Moodie," said he, salkily, for he wa» av}-, dantly displeased by my hnabaad's wiiai ^of reoognition on his entrance, "that Ifaaiva had no dinner." I sighed to myself, for I wall knew Imt oar lardar boaatad of no dainties and,.'fi(Ml|/ the animal ex^saion of oar goast's ft^lHjkMlffeon rightly judged tiiat he was fond tof gooi Hir "' ins. »!«,!••-• l^tiiatfmalhiMlitted ih fare. I waa sure that he for whom it provided was not one te pass it over in benevclant silence. " He nsight be a gen« tleman," 1 thought, " but he does not Jook like one " and a oonfased idea of who he wa% and where Moodie had met with him, liegan to float througb my mind. I did not like the appearance of the man, bat I consoled myself that he was only to stay for one nivht, and I could give np my bed for that ine night and sleep on a bed on the floor by my sick husband. When I re- rntered the parlor to cover the table, I found Moodie fallen adle«p, and Mr. Malcolm reading. As I pltceid the tea-things on the table, he raised his head, and regarded me with a gloomy stare. He was a strange- luoking cieatnre his features were tolerably regular, his complexion dark, with a good colour, his very broad and round head was covered with a perfect mass ot close, black, curling hair, which, in growth, texture, and hue, resembled the wiry, curly hide of a water-dog. His eyes and mouth were both well-shaped, but gave, by their sinister tx- pression, an odious and doubtful meaning to the whole of his physiognomy. The. eyes were cold, insolent and cruel, and as green as the eyes of a cat. The mouth bespoke a sullen, determined, and sneering disposition, as if it belonged to one brutally obstinate, one who oould not by any gentle means be persuaded from his purpose. Such a nian, in a passion, would have been a terrible wild beast but the current of his feelings â-  jemed to flow in a deep, sluggish channel, rather than in a violent or impetuous one and, like William Penn, when he recon- noitred hia unwelcome visitors through the keyhole of the door, I looked at my strange guest, and liked him not. Perhapa my dis- tance and conatrained manner made him painfully aware of the fact, for I am certain that, from that first hour of our acquain- tance, a deep-rooted antipathy existed be- tween us, which time seemed rather to strengthen thau diminish. He ate of his meal sparingly, and with evident disgust the only remarks that dropped from him were "Yon make bad bread in the bush; Strange that you can't keep your potatoes from the frost I should have thought that you would have bad things more comfortable in the woods." "We have been very unfortunate," I said, " since we came to the woods. I am sorry that you should be obliged to share the p6v- erty of theland. It would have given me much pleasure could I have set betore you a more comfortable meal." " Oh, don't mention it. So that I get good pork and potatoes I shall be contented." Thx Cahadiak Hcitteb's Soko. IThs uutlhani UfhU an tmUag, Oa tta mpMs' raallaaa flaw Aado'ar tha wild wnvaa da^bgw (to bb continued.) Ants and Batteiflies. In a recent number of the " Journal " of the Bombay Natural History Society, Mr. Lionel de Niceville describes the manner in whioh the larvae of a species of butterfly Taurcus fheophrastus, Fabricius) are culti- vated and protected by the large common black ants of Indian gardens and houses. As a rule ants are the most deadly and inveter- ate enemies of butterflies, and ruthlessly de- stroy and eat them whenever they get the chance but in the present case the larva; exude a sweet liquid of some sort, of which the ants are inordinately fond, and which they obtain by stroking the lar\ic gently with their ant inc 88. Hence the great care which is taken of them. The Urvso feed on a small thorny bush of the jungle, tne Zizif- phui Jvjuba, and at the foot ot this the ants construuc. a temporary nest. About the middle of June, just before the rains set in, great activity is observable on the tree. The ants are busy all day running along the branches and leaves in search of the larva;, and guiding and driving them down the stem of the tree towards the nest. Each prisoner is guarded until he is got safely into his place, when he falls off into a doze and undergoes his transformation into a pupa. If the loose earth at the foot of the teee is scraped away hundreds ot larva: and puga; in all stages of development, arranged in a broad, even band all ronnd the trunk, will be seen. The ants object to uncovering them, and immediately set to work to put the earth back again if this is taken away agun, they will remove all the chrysalids and bury them lower down. When the buttei fly is ready to emerge in about a week it is tenderly assisted to disengage itself from its shell, and, should ic bestrong and healthy, is left undisturbed to spread its wings and fly away. For some time after they have gained strength tbey remain hovering over their old home. In one case a butteifly fell to the ground before its opening wings had dried, and a soldier-ant tried to rescue it. He carried it back to the tree with the ut- most care, and made several attempts to assist the butterfly to hold on again, but finding his efforts unavailing he left the crip- ple to recover himself. On his return, see- ing no improvement, he appeared to lose all patience, and, rushing in, bit off both wings and carried the body into the nest. But hfgh handed proceedings of this kind are very unusual. It is said to be a curious sight to watch the fragile and delicate butterflies wandering about, all feeble and helpless, among the busy crowd of coarse black ants, and rubbing shoulders in periect safety with the ordinary fierce, big-headed soldiers. A larva of another species thrown down among them as an experiment waa inimediately aet upon and torn' to piecea by the ants. bat Alvwii 1 aadttwaa ttaalfaltlMartUji Green Hair and Whisken. The "TerritoriU Enterprise" says; A con- tract has been let on the Martin White mine at Ward, Nevada, and work is to be resumed forthwitL A queer phenomenon is connect- ed ^th the working of the Martin White ore. The ore is very base, and It is ne- cessary to roast the whole of it. During the roasting process no disagreeable or dale- torious fumes are observable, yet the hair and beards of all the men engaged aboat the works are soon dyed a bright and permanent green. Even the eyebrows of the workman are as graanaa {{rasa. la scores ot Nevada mioas «raa of vuions kinds an ameltad and reaated, Imt at none of them is either the hair or liaarda of the workman diaaged from tlmlr aatnral bna. It is aaid that there is IN*- fu^anfc in tha ore rf tiia Martin White tkan^ la «ha» ot maif oHm.winm. Old affsoton tha am«ald baa Warm Weather in Aottralia. The most raoMkaMa featara of tlia Aostralian oUsBftto la 4^19 hot wind. Tha fltt, aaady iatackfcof tha iplinent raaaa- btea tlia deatfrta ofjNorth Africa and Arabia^ and tha winds, therefore ara vary similar, lamatas qaaatitiaa at Mod, ara drifted about ty the wind and carriad beymid tha coast a considerable distance oat toaea. On Jan. 21, 1845. Capt. Start's thermomatar rose to 151 degrees in tha shada tha maaa tomperatore of December was 101 degrees, for Janaaiy 104 degrees, and for Febraary 101 degrees. So parohed was the grousd that there were great cracks in it from aighfe to ten feet deep. At Cooper's Craek oa Nov. 11, 1845, he experienced one of tiiaaa hot-air ourrenta, and thiu describes it: "The wind whioh had been blowing all monung from northeast, increased to a gala, and I shall never forget its withering ef fectsi I aoughii shelter behind a large gam tree, but the blasts of heat were so teirifio that I wondered the very grass did not take fire everything, both animate and in- animate, gave way before it the horses stood with their backs to the wind and their noaes to the ground, the birds were mute, and the leayea of the trees fell like a shower around as. At noon I took out my thermometer, graduated to 127 de- grees, and put it in the fork of a tree, and an hour afterward, when I went to examine it, the tube was full of meroury and the bulb had burst about sunset the wind had shifted to west, and a thunder-cloud passed over us, but only a few .drops of rain felL" The bursting of the instrument shows thafe tne temperature was much higher than 127 degrees, the glass being unable to resist the expansion of the mercury. Vegetation suffers greatly from the parohing oharaotor of this wind. Plants droop, leaves shrivel M if frost-bitten, and wheat crops have been destroyed. Its intense dryness is shown by the relative humidity falling to zero, and evaporation amounting to an inch of water a day.*^ High up in the moontyna to the east and southeast, in the midst of a frosty morning, occasional hot blasta are felt from the interior, and they catise a pe- culiar irritation of the nostrils and throat. Although disagreeable as heated air and fatal to vegetation, this dry wind, like that of India, is healthy. The dry climate is practically free from miasmatic diseases. m Piof. Huxley's Eonenr. The council of the Royal Society, in sel- ecting Prof. Huxley to be the recipient of tho Copley medal for this year, have worth- ily acquitted themselves of the annual trust with which they have to deal. What may be considered a crowning honour has thus been conferred upon one illustrious among biologiste, and illustrious during the years of a busy life as an exponent to the people of scientific aims. Lut year the medal was given to Sir Joseph Hooker, who was as the "Life and Letters" testify, intimately con- nected with Dikrwin's projects and work, and it is appropriate that tiie succeeding award has been made to Prof. Huxley, if only on the score of his having taken so large a part in what he himsslf has termed "the reception of the 'Origin of Species'" The Copley medal, by common consent, is re- serve! for distinguished savants, who necessarily form the select few. Certainly Pruf. Huxley is one of them. What is peculiar to him is the literary gift that he adds to his scientific attainments. No one was more alive to this than Darwin him- self, "People complain," he wrote to Prof. Haxley 20 years ago, "of the oneqnal dis- tribution of wealth but it is a mnch great- er shame and injustice that anyone should have the power to write so many brilliant essays as you have lately done. There is no one who writes like yon." fiUmore and the Hen. In the first quarter of this century a party of travellers waa journeying down the Missouri in a flat boat. The river was covered with floating ice, and provisions were scarce, but the men were young, posiessed of much more wic than money, and able to extract plenty of fun out of tbe'danger and privation. One evening two of them, a school teacher and a Frenchman, went ashore to buy pro- visions at a farm house. The teacher offer- ed half a dollar to the farmer's wife for a motherly old hen that was scratching about the yard. She refused with a torrent of abuse. His comrade, who was lounging over tha gat' whispered, " Off jr another bit." " Five bite I" said the teacher. The woman hesitated, then, to her amaze- ment, the hen squeaked out "I'm not worth it, I'm four years old I'm not worth it " The teacher started back in dismay the farmer's wife, regaining her courage, chased the hen, and caught it up in her arms. "Take two bits It's all I'm worth f it said, flipning wildly in her arms. She ran, pale with terror, to the French- man and put it in his hsmds, screaming out â€""Take it away I It's bewitched I" The young man threw the money back to her, and carried cff the hen. Many years afterwards, among the crowd in the E*at room of the White house which attended one of the receptions of President Fillmore, was the kindly old Signer Blitz, well-known to all the children of the Eastern Utatea aa a ventrilcquist. When he was in- troduced to the Presidrat the two men look- ed at each other a moment and then burst into a laugh. "You never thought to see me here," said Mr. Fillmore. "Now for the first time I aadarstand tha mystery of tha old heal"â€" i [Chicago Herald. »e^»-a The Man of Many fwuw. Life with the general passaaffar agent of a rdOroad is oaa continnad roona of pleasure. He is about the only ofBdal connected with the numagament of a riJlroad who can travel around the country withont money and wiih- oat price. Hu tan pooketbook contains tha magical open sesame to all lin^ of road In the coaofery, and ha also poaBaasis tha privl- iMaaof the sleeping cars and tlw dining cars. When the general Ireigbt agent travels he has his annual raUroad passes, bat he is obliged to prodaos to tha rapcaaaatatives of the sleeping oar compaaies and pay tha usual tariff for his meals in the dining cara. Agaaar»lpaais n i r agent can start for Naw his oollaodoa of *««»i ««^lt Mo '«*»«n»«T and aatiia Qotfil^ pa ^istx^iBa^ ;iiunaBd pKiV-^i"' --'*sev4 .mi -:l ;--A- .-?:•. '4 -AJf^Sr. â- ^A^;.^^Au.'i^^iaii