to Alike: warmrh of Allen's body and stopped for a moment. Then it slowly be- gan to ascend his lebs to his body and soon In a moment, still hissing angrily, one of the snakes began to move, and Allen saw its glistening eyes at his feet). The clammy thing crawled over his bare feet and circled axound his naked legs. fl‘bqpreptug-e geemed Allen stoodas if petriï¬ed. He knew a mavement on his part meant an attack. End this attack to him must result in deitb. And such a death! He imagined himself bitten by the snakes and his iasoy depicted a frenzied being with veins ï¬lled with bum- ing poison, wildly grappling with the scaly, venomous reptiles, and striving with the desperation of the awful fever to mount the hard sides of the well and die on the plsin above beneath God's smiling stars. The sweet poured from the poor man‘s body in streams. The snakes gave forth that musky odor peculiar to them, and this, taken with the closeness and warmth of the air, pro- duced a sensation as of suffocation. It was some three months after this oc- currence that Allen met with a mishap that hurled him from the heights of asturdy manhood to an existence but little removed from death. It was in the summer of 1885. All day long Allen had been hard at work branding a lot of yearling steers, at a point some twenty miles from his dugout, and at night he was completely worn out. It was a wearisome gallop from the branding place to his cheerless habitation, for the air was sultry and the baked ground gave forth an intense heat. It was nearly 11 o'clock when the stockman reached his destination, and glad was he when his pony was safely stabled for the night and he at liberty to retire. He was about to creep into bed when his quick ear detected a slight noise in the direction of his stable, and he knew at once that prowlers were about. Seizing his revolver he started for the stable on his hands and knees, for he intended tokill and not to alarm, having no gar- ment on other than his undershirt. fl‘he noise at the stable continued, and Allen moved rapidly toward the sound. So intent was he on investigating the noise that he failed to noticewhere his path led him, and suddenly, without warning, he felt some- thing beneath him give way, and he was precipitated to the bottom of a "playedout" well, adistance of some twenty-ï¬ve feet. The well had been dry for years and the mouth had been closed witha few rottm boards. which, giving way underneath Allen’s great weight, had caused the catastrophe. The snake Behind soon crossed the Welland joined its mate, the two meanwhile keeping up an incessant rattle. Their slumber: had been rudely disturbed and they seemed dergimined bo_resent it if possible; For a moment Allen was stunned. The skin on his body had been abraded in a dozen places and every bone ached with the force of the fall. The stookman was almost over whelmed with rage, for in this accident he saw himself rendered helpless, and knew the thieves, if any there were, would not leave as much behind as a lariat and might, should they discover his position. kill him. \\'ith a muttered curse of despair he turned to look for his revolver, determined to ï¬ght to the last, should an attack be made upon him. As he turned he saw gleaming and flashing in the murky darkness apsir of small. beady eyes, and poor Allen’s heart: almost stood still, for a warning hiss and rattle told him he had in the well as a companion a rattle- snake. The reptile ra' tled angrily and moved his head from side to side In an uncertain way, and then behind Allen there came an answering scnnd, and he knew he had tw0 regtiles to cope with instead atone. The Indian did so, and the next instant his spirit had left the arid plains of Ariz )na forever. Then Allen shrode into the saloon. where at least: a dczan of his enemies were gathered, and demanded to know who sent him the warning. No one answered, and, after roundly cursing the gang for their cowardice, he left and went home. For two months he battled hard with death, for the last bullet ï¬red by the Indian had lodged in his right breast. almost piercing the lung. As an illustration of lxie iron nerve, it may be related that at one time in 1884 he was given warning to keep away from a certain small settlement, some ten miles from his ranch, be having incurred the displeasure of a gang of notorious cut-throats there. Allen smiled grimly as he read the warning, then strapde on his revolver and set forth for the hostile hamlet. He tied his horse in the rear of a saloon and started to enter when a pistol shot was heard and a bullet whietled over his head. Allen turned. Not more than twenty feet away stood “ Dan," alhalf breed Indian, with a revolver in his hand. As Allen turned three more balls passed in close proximity to his head. He knew the Indian had one shot left. With a scornnt smile he said : " Fire again, youâ€", and ï¬re low- 61‘. i119, even in the iaceoi death. The greasers and Indians soon learned to dread the tall atockman, for in more than one encounter they had come (if badly worsted, and more than one unmarked grave on the Mexican frontier bears silent witness to Allen’s unerr- ing aim, for he never hesitated to kill when he thought himself justiï¬ed. Very little is considered justiï¬cation among the class with which Allen was associated. So greatly was he feared and respected by his wild compan- ions and neighbors that nothing bearing his brand was ever molested, and the most daring of the cowboys and outlaws seldom tempted death by a too prolonged argument with him. Among the rough population of the border Allen was a power. He was most generous- ly gifted by nature, having 9. well-knit, athletic frame and a mind well stored with knowledge. But it was Allen's nerve which mured for him recognition and &iU'leD03 amid the cactus-fleoked plains oi Arizona and New-Mexicoâ€"U. nerve which knew no flinch- Five years aim Richard Allen. or Dick Allen, on he was familiarly known by him associates, owned or at least; claimed and oeuupied a stock range of considerable area in southern Arizona, the Mexican boundary line being distant but 9. few miles. He owned a. large number of beef cattle, and was considered well-so do. Occupying a seat in the reading room of a down town hone] one day last week there might have been observed a seemingly aged gentleman wnoae need was gray and whose cheeks were ahrivelled. A pnllor as of death was on his face, and frequently the muscles of his features would twitch con- vulsivelv. His name was Richard J. Allen, and be registered himaclf as hailing from Toionto, Canada. In a De]: With Two Deadly Snakes. A anwwpnnmn. The most injurious odor ‘producible by chemical an: is that of cyanide of kakodyl. A very few grains of this Vapor in the air of a room is sulfuient to cause giddinesa, delirium, andnumbness of the hands and feet. The smell of this deadly poison is long enduring, fetid, and fem-fully offensive. It has recently been proposed to utilise it in the operations of war. Nor can his influence be of a lasting kind unless he is disposed to be fair and honest in dealing with antagonists. He may have these qualities and yet be Without force of oharacuer; but having them, he is possessed of two of the primary elements that make up the leader or ruler of men. Contrary to general belief, then, the man of real force is never a bully, is never passionate, though he may be, and generally is aggressive, and may, as occasion requires, give exhibitions of temper, that is, nevertheless, kept in perfect control. Force of character brings with it eelfAreliance and an imperturbable manner. Just as the really courageous man remains cool in the presence of danger, the self reliant man keeps his temper under provocation because he feels conï¬dence in himself. The coward grows excited and loud-mouthed to conceal his real feelings. The good taste generally displayed in her dress by a well-bred Frenchwoman is be- yond dispute. Besides the chic with which she is universally credited, she has an eye for combinations that are striking! while re- maining harmonious, and the wears her apparel with a grace and elegance peculiarly her own. She ï¬xea flower or an aigrette in her own'hair in a manner to baeflis the art of any Paris coiï¬eur. She never wears boots large or illâ€"ï¬tting, like so many English women; while her hand, no matter its shape, looks perfect when gloved. There is good taste as well as art in all this. So much for the average Frenchwoman with culture and means at command. The case is otherwise when we come to French child- ren. who, in a general way, are overdressed and converted into little men and women almost before they are out of their swaddl- ing-clothes. Simplicity, that charm par excellence of childhood, has little to do with French children. The little girl of four or ï¬ve years old in Paris wears stays and tonrnure and feathers, and often rings and bracelet, while earings are not unfrequently ï¬xed in her ears when she is in her nurse’s arms. As may be expected. a precocious taste for dress develops in the child thus dealt with, so that the fiiLette of ï¬fteen, is often as much anadept in the arts of the toilet as her mother. This exuberance of detail and want of simplicity in children’s dress is not only detrimental to the charac- ter of the doll-like wearers, but robs their appearance of much of its native~ grace and beauty. In this respect English children contrast favorably with their little French neighbors. The higher we look in French society the more we see English ideas pre- vailing in the treatment of children. When the Countess de Paris was living in France her nursery was like an English one, while hero hildren were often dressed with a simplicity bordering on severity. There are two essential elements of force of character seldom possessed by pretenders â€"self-control and s spirit; of fairness. No man can be really strong who has not learn- ed to control himself. He can not master others, except in a brutal or dishonest Way, until he has ï¬rst mastered, not merely learned how to conceal. his own temper. In fact the bully or any other pretender rarely ever attains permanently a position in life which belongs to real merit. He is oftener seen in subordinate positions, and is recognized by his propensity to give instead of take directions ; to complain when in some exigency more is required of him than usual ; to criticise when‘he can not shirk, and to impose in various other ways upon those around him. For weeks he lay in his cabin on the outer edge of death, but his sturdy constitution stood by him and he recovered, though he was but a wreck of his former self. His neighbors “ rounded-up " what little stock ho had leftâ€"for the thieving residents of the frontier were quick to take advantage of his helplessnessâ€"and Allen left for New-Eng- land to recover, if possible, his former health. But the shock was too severe and Allen will never be a man again. At the age of thirty-six he is as inï¬rm as a man of seventy, and his life is devoid of pleasure. He cannot remain long in one place, for his nerves demand a constant change of scene, and he is a homeless helpless wanderer. Soon death will come to his relief and then, perhaps, Allen will learn why this dreadful plague was visited upon him.â€"[Altrs-Cali« fornia. For hours he stood thus, consumed with a feverish thirst, his nerves at a terrible tension and his eyes strained and almost bursting. Then the sky above him began to light up and a a little ray of sunlight danced on the western well of his underground prison. In a few moments the well wos quite light and then Allen and his enemy sew each other at the same instant. The snake coiled an} sprang, but Allen was too active. He stepped to one side and let the snake go by [um and then. with a. smell club, crushed out the venomous life forever. Then it was that Allen’s great nerve gave way. He yelled and shrieked and cursed and tors in mod delirium ; and when neighbors, attracted by his cries, rescued him an hour later he was frothing at the month, bleeding at the noae, and the snakes were torn to shreds. ï¬Overdressed French Children. the terrible eyes were looking into those of Allen and they seemed to nurn through to his brain. Up over his face the creature moved its head and then encountered Allen's crisp and curly hair. With an angry rattle the snake drew back his head, and Allen, knowing it would strike, ro'sed his hands as quick as lightning and gripped the creature by the throat. With the other hand he grasped the rattles end then he slowly, surely. strangled the creature to death, though the fenlul effluvium which it emitted almost ceased him to faint. For half an hour he held the snake ï¬vme ; he saw the malignant light in its eyes grow dim and ï¬nally disappear, and then he knew one enemy at least was dead. But he dared not drop the dead snake. for the other had become uneasy at the disappearance of its mate and seemed on the point of startling out in search. The ï¬erce, glaring eyes moved from side to side, the rattle was seldom L-till, and Allen never for a moment tool; hie eyes from those hostile orbs. Force of Character. My friends had seen me make par: of the journey, and were on hand to pick up the pieces. They got their guns and went up the trail to look for the bears. They found one by the big bowlder, and he was as dead as if hit with a brick house. The other had My revolver was of no more use against a grizzlv than a popgun. and I did not take it from the holster. Indeed, I was too bad- ly rattled to have made a line shot at an object ten feet away. I saw that my only chance was by the roadway, but there eat the hear. I waited for the upper one to make a move, and after about ten minutes he curled up and rolled off the shelf. I jump- ed for the sled the same instant, gave a vig~ orous kick behind, and down that steep path I went with the velocity of a cannon ball. The sled struck somethingâ€"there was a roar and a howl. I seemed to rise in- to the air, and I opened my eyes to ï¬nd my- self turning a big bowlder into the trail. I couldn't swing the sled far enough, and went down through the short scrub, made a jump of twenty feet over a tree top, hit the trail at an elbow, and might have been going yet if I had not smashed into a rock near our hut. Benjamin has picked out the handsomest women for wives, and they esteem it quite an honor. The King lives in the biggest bamboo house in the village of Ki, a strag- gling aggregation of native houses on a coral reef. His children are of all ages, and are a sprightly, lively lot. Nobody bothers much with clothes in the South Paciï¬c, still Ben- jamin wears a little something, and is gradually prevailing on the natives to do so too. He keeps telling them that their is no civilization without some clothes. Ben- jamin is about 33 years old. He was form. erly from Newburyport. Mass., but says that he no longer has any desire to return to America. He is the only white man, with one exception, for hundreds of miles around. He has taken to wearing a string of shells aonnd his neck like the natives, and he sometimes imitates them and puts dots of blue paint, got from a native shrub, on his face. This is only on state occasions, how- ever, when there is to be a discussion of important questions with his chiefs. The permanent population of his island is about 600 or 700. The island is indented with beautiful bays, and is dotted with trees and shrubs of a tropical growth which are for most of the year covered with fragrant flowers. Benjamin Island is about 630 miles Wt st of Marshall group.†Running Down a Grizzly with a Hand Sled. Three of us had a camp on the western slope of the Bitter Root Mountains, Idaho, and one afternoon I took the hand sled and went up the trail to bring down a deer Ken- nedy had shot. There was plenty of snow on the ground, with a crust hard enough to beat up a horse, and I had no trouble in reaching the spot where the carcass hung. The last 100 feet of the way was a passage not over ten feet. wide, between high walls, and the pitch was about the same as an or- dinary house roof. The beers had put up 3 job on me. On my right was s cliï¬â€˜, on my left a. precipice. If I got down at: all it: must be by the road I came up. They were in no great: hurry to bring matters to a crisis, seeming rather to enjoy the situation, and the lower bear sort: 0’ winked at me, and probably observed : “Say, old tellow, does your mother know of your whereabouts ?†As there was no danger from the Indians, and as I expected to have my hands full with the sled, I did not take my rifla. We hadn’t sighted a bear for four weeks, and I worked away getting the deer fast on the rude but stout sled without the slightest uneasiness. I was about ready to start wheniI heard a “ woof l ’ above me, and I looked up to see a big grizzly standing on a sort of shelf about seventy-ï¬ve feet up the mountain. He was looking this way and that for a spot to de- scend. A second “ woof I" caused me to wheel about, and right below me at the far end of the roadway was Ephraim N o. 2. He sat in the middle of the road, and I'm a prevsricator if his countenance didn’t wear a g_rin. _ “The sailor," said Mr. Wright. “is Carl Benjamin, and he has no less than nineteen wives and ï¬fty odd copper-colored children. He was wrecked in the schooner Bombazine cï¬ the Lidrone Islands nine years ago, and floated at sea on a raft a couple of weeks before he struck land. If you will look at a map of the Paciï¬c you will ï¬nd lying mid- way between the Tropic of Cancer and the equator, 600 miles west of the Marshall group, thirteen dots. On some maps they are marked ‘Thirteen islands, well inhabited.’ That is all there is to point out their signiï¬cance. It is on the biggest of these, called by the sailor Benjamin Island, after himself, that he he has taken up his home. It is about ten by twenty miles in extent. ‘ Well inhabited, means that there is quite a sprinkling of dark-skinned natives there, as well as many more who move to and fro, in the archipelago with beats. They eat bread fruit, bananas, cocoannts, and ï¬sh. They don’t work at all. Benja- min has got to be King. He has nothing at all to do bnt'go} swimming, in thesnrf, talk the native gibberish, which he has learned, or loll under a palm tree, Sometimes he has his wives fan him while he lazily smok- es the kaseba leaf, which grows plentifully there, and which, after one becomes used to it. is liked better than tobacco. “Benjamin is doing some good work there. however. He carried three or four books with him on his raft, the last thing you would have expected, and he has contrived to teach the natives English. Benj 1min is an American of German or Jewish descent, and is a lover of books. The ï¬rst thing he did was to select an intelligent native and teach him the alphabet. The fellow learn- ed rapidly, and soon began to teach it to others, and a number of them can now speak English, while the rising generation immedi- ately around are gradually picking up a knowledge of the language. Benjamin is looked upon as a sage. I'he chiefs, of whom there are iour, come to him for points, and of their own accord they have made him their ruler, the chiefs being a sort of Cabinet. SAN FBANCISCO..~â€"U30rge Wright who arrived at Sm Francisco on the steamer Australiaadsy or two ago from the Caro- line Islands, brings a queer story of the sudden rise of a sailor to distinction in the largest island of an archipelago seventy-ï¬ve miles west of steis, wpere Mr. Wright: has gtrading scare. Curl Benjamin. Washed Ashore on 8 Pa- cllc Island. Becomes 3 (Mel. A SAILOB KING. In acountry church the curate had to give out two notices, the ï¬rst of which was about baptisms, and the latter had to do with a. new hymn book. Owing to an acci- dent he inverted the order and gave out as follows : “I 'em requested to give notice that the new hymn book will be used for the ï¬rst time in thislchurch on Sunday next, and I am also requested to call the attention to the delay which often takes place in bring- ing children to be baptized ; they should be brought on the earliest day ‘possible. This is particularly pressed on mothers who have young babies." “And for the information of those who have none,†added the rector, in gentle, kindly tones, and who being deaf had not heard what had been previously said ; “for the information of those who have none, I may state that if wished they can be obtained on application in the Vestry immediately after service today. Limp ones one shilling each ; with stiE backs two shillings." This is a. quere description of Wordsworth which a quaint old Lskemsn gives : “ chs- worth for a’ he had nos pride, nor nowt, was a. man who was quite one to hissel'. He was not a. man as folks could crack wi’ nor not a man as could orsck wi' talks. But there was another thing as kep' folks oï¬â€˜, he had a ter’ble girt deep voice, and ya might see his fence again for long ennfl'. I've knosn folks, villagelads, and lsssies. coming over by old road above which runs from Grasmere to Rydel, flayt a’ most to death there by Wishing geate, to hear the girt voice egroenin', and mutterin', and thun- derin' of a still evening, and he had a way of standin’ quite still by the rock there in t’psth under Rydal, and folks could hear sounds like a wild beast coming from the rock and children were scared ï¬t to be dead B’mos t.’ Petticoat government has been such a suc- cess in Oskaloosa, Kansas, in which town the Mayor and the members of the Council during the past year have all been married women, that with the exception of two members the entire ticket is to he renamin- ated at the approaching municipal election. One or the two ladies who are not asking a second term is annoyed over some difï¬culty about a sidewalk, and the other will shortly be incapacitated by reason of an interesting event of a. domestic character. The men of the town appear to have no hope of being able to elect a ticket taken from their own sex, but they have nominated and intend supporting six of the best-looking unmarried ladies of the commu aity. The contest ought to be an interesting one. A delicate lady passed through some of the crowded streets of New York one sultry August morning and was appalled to see the sick babies and children gasping out their lives in the stifling heat and dying for want of pure, fresh air. Tnere was one dainty garret chamber in her pretty country home, and when her business in the city was com- pleted she took one mother and her baby with her for a two weeks’ vis it. " I cannot save all." she said: “ I may save one.†When the two weeks had passed and the color had deepened in the child's cheeks and lips she sent for another in her place, and so they came and went until the frosts fell. The neighbors followed her example. The next summer hundreds of children were entertained; the next, thousands. Another lady who lived in the city heard of it, and, as she had no money to give to help this gracious charity, she said, “I can at least tell some one else of it,†so she wrote an ac- count of it and sent it to a New York news- paper. A third woman read it in the paper and sent $1,000 to the editor. and so the fresh-air charity was established, which now has its branches in many cities in the United States and is taking root in Eng- land and on the Continent. “ A Bad Man’e Sweetheart," bv Edmond E. Sheppardâ€"A well written interesting story, of somewhat melodramatic type. The scene is laid in Toronto. There is some very eï¬'eotive description of character. and there is more than one bad man among the characters. One of the worst of them is a prominent lawyer. “ Lady Car," by Mrs. Oliphant (William Bryce, Toronto.) 3 story of no particular in- terest, which describes the disappointment of a sensitive lady, as she gradually realizes the fact that: her second husband, who was her ï¬rst love, is not the genius she once imagined him. A calculation is made that of every eight leaves whicha Londoner eats seven are made of foreign wheatâ€"two being Russian â€"-and only one of home-grown grain. During last year London received a total of 2 745,861 quarters of wheat, and of flour a further quantity (reckoned us quarters) of 2,356,883 quarters or a grand total of 5,102,744 quarters. Of this quantity. the largeeb since 1883, only 660,000 quarters were native. the whole oi the remainder coming to Britain from abroad. â€" Prince Krapobkine, according to the Star of London, is gentle in manner and appear- ance; and half an hour's conversation is suf- ï¬cient: to reveal to even a. dull eye the depths of honest: adherence to opinions which lie un- derneath. He is rather small and a. very thin and delicate-looking man. He has a long heard, the head is completely bald, and his sufferings in prison have evidently weox- ened hie frame. He has very ï¬ne eyes â€"zoit, frank, almost: tender ; and as they beam kindly and oppealingly upon you through glasses, one is helped to a. comprehension of the awful sufferings of the Russian people when a soul so visibly gentle was turned to ï¬erce and deadly revolt. “Silken Threads " (J. Theo. Rabinson, Montreal) â€"5 capital decective auory which. withonj: possessing great literary ï¬nish. keeps up the interest: of the reader from ï¬rst: to last. Mx’ss Harriet Hosmer. the sculptor, now has lived abroad the best part at more than thirty years. But she is American, as es- sentinlly so as if she had never crossed the Water. She is small in feature, with that high curve of the eyebrows which is observ- able in the foreheads of most artists, and es- pecially in that of Michael Angelo and-Leo- nardo de Vinci. Her eyes are a sparkling blue, her nose is tiny and concave, her mouth is small, vivacious. reï¬ned and humorous. Her shapely little hands are alive with ener- 3Y- “ Mr. Naydian’s Family Cir-ch," (J. Theo. vainson, Montreal) â€"3 purpoaeless account of the bickeringa of apretentions and vulgar Ca‘ncli‘gp family. left handfuls of his hair clear through the scrub, but: had ï¬nally checked 1:1: tumble, and sneaked eff. Cheap Enough tor Babies. WIT AND WISDOM. George Ell], Late of undoc, Killed in the Far West. CLEALUM, Oregon, April l7.â€"The other evening in the Miners' Arms saloon, at Ros- lyn, William Anderson shot and Killed George Hill. The murder was most atro- cious and without provocation. Anderson ï¬red two shots, one taking effect in Hill‘s arm and the other in the right eye. Ander- son then placed the muzzle of his V’Vlnches- ter in Hill's mouth and discmrged it, liter- ally blowing the wounded man’s head to pieces. Anderson ran out of the saloon, but was overtaken and arrested by Postmaster Miller. Talk of lynching was indulged in, but Sheriff Mack brought: the piiaoner to this place and he was taken to the prison at Elleneburg. Anderson and Hill were Cana- dians and came to R)slyn from Madoc, near Bellevde, Ont. Roslyn is quiet to-day, the saloons having been closed all day by order of the town marshal. “Having made this assertion, I shall now endeavor to show, for the beneï¬t of any of your readers who may like to try the plan, how it Is that I dare to do so. At each end of my dairy I have a large opening or win- dow. covered with perforated zinc, to keep out flies and other insects, and at the same time to insure a thorough draught. On the outside of these openings are stretched pieces of canvas nailed to tapering, strips of wood, placed one on each side of the win- dow. Above each window is ï¬xed a kero- sene tin can cut open on one side to allow of its being ï¬lled with water. In this irecept- acle I introduce one end of a piece of cloth, the other end hanging over the outside of the can, and touching the canvas blind, to which it is sewed, in order to prevent it blowing about with the wind. Along the bottom of each r'e.nvas blind is a trough of tin forming a gutter, and under the lowest part of this gutter stands a bucket. The apparatus being thus completed, the tin cans are ï¬lled with water, which being gradually absorbed and drawn up the clo‘h by the force known as capillary attraction, drops down on the outside, and keeps the canvas blind saturated with moisture. It has been found that a ton of hay ab- sorbs in its growth thirty pounds of nitro- gen, worth $4 80; forty pounds of potash, $2; and fourteen pounds oi phosphoric acid, worth $1.12. Therefore each ton of hay. shipped from the farm takes with it $7792 worth of these three elements, which must be replaced or the land will be weakened by just this sum. It does not pay to sell buy at $8 per ton. Better feed where grown, and sell in the form of beef, pork, butter or milk. Several years ago I planted a. hot-bed with peppers, tomatoes, cabbage and a few pieces of inverted sod with melons, cucumbers and llma‘beaus. They all came up nicely and were doing ï¬nely when one morning I went out to the bed after it had been kept closed two days on account of the weather, and to my surprise. the plants were scratched out and the seeds all gone. Mice holes were to be seen, and I knew what had done the mis- chief. Ireplanted the bed and got two or three sauce dishes, ï¬lled them with corn meal sprinkled with arsenic, and placed the dishes in each end of the hotbed. The mice ate the meal and died before they got out of the bed. and I had no further trouble with them. Since then I put the dishes ï¬ll- ed with the poleoned meal in the bed when I plant the seed and have never been troubl- ed with either mice or rate. I plant melons, cucumbers and beans on inverted pieces of sod and place them in the hot-bed because I can have them two or three weeks earlier than if I waited until I- could plant them in the open ground. “The evaporation from the ï¬lm of water thus spread over the canvas covers, produces cold, and the air chilled by this means, en- ters the dairy through the perforated zinc. “A kerosene tin can ï¬lled with water, with cloth attached, will keep the canvas eitnrated for ï¬fty hours, without attention, and then all that is necessary is to pour the water which has run into the buckets be- neath the gutters, back. adding, of course. the quantity lost by evaporation. I think'if G. W. B. will adopt my plan, he will have no further trouble with mice i1 his hot-beds. My object in using meal instead of cheese or bread is that where the bed is left open, there is stinger of cats or dogs getting the poison if on either bread or cheese, Therein no danger with the meal.â€"-[Roaa Autumn, in Country Gentleman. †1 must give you to understand that my dairy is not s grand stone structure, with flsgged fl )ors. neither is it built of brick, nor Is 1: dug out of the side of 3 bill. But though simply made of timber, of the board and batten type of construction, and attach- ed to the heck part of my house. I will venture to say that it is one of the coolest, if not the coolest dairy, in the Ksipars. “In this way any one can secure a perfect- ly cool dairy with very little trouble and scarcelv any expenditure. Asa proof of the efï¬ciency of the plan, the following will show: “From the meteorologio tables published from the observatory, I ï¬nd that the hottest day of the year before last was the 55b 0! November. On that day the temperature in the sun was 154} degrees, and in the shade 97% degrees. From the state of the atmosphere as to dryness on that day said dairy window would have been 23 degrees lower than the shade temperature, and those adopting this inexpensive and simple means of cooling, would have a temperature of some 74 degrees, while that outside in the shade was narly 98 degrees ; while the unfor- tunates in the sun were suffaring 154 degrees. The editor of an agricultural psper, on a recent visit to a farm, saw two or three dogs comfortably sleeping in a. warm kennel, and a. few rods away some calves shivering, on the south side of an unsheltered harvester. He suggested that it might be a. good plan to set the dogs on the calves just to exercise and warm the lstter,but the farmer thought that it would be rough on the dogs such a. cold day! How To Kan? A DAIRY Coon. A correspondent: of “Hand's Dnr'ymm' sends the following borrowed plan of keep- lng a diary cool, and than suggests that while 11: may do well for a butber dairy, ll: would probably make the room too damp for cheese. Here is the article : A CBUEL MURDER. AGRICULTURAL. MICE LN HOT BEDS. NOTES