IN PKNSIVK BX AXJCK WTI.LIAMH. " Oh UkereHi nothing balf so sweet in life Aa love's young dream I" I mused last ntent in pensive mood Albeit not often sentimental My heart was heavy and my frame Was racked with aches both head and dental. I say. as once I've said before. My mood was somewhat sad and pensive. I cast upon the Post a glance Fond, lingering, and comprehensive. I siw once more that mossy bank By which the river ripples slowly, 0 ershadowed by the silvery veil Cf willow branches drooping lowly, B -strewn with wild spring flowerets dyed In every color of the prism ; Waere oft we sat. May Brown and I 2ior ever dreamed of rheumatism. We loved. Ah, yeel Some might have loved 1 iu orv us, in their humdrum pasnion ; But never yet the world had known So wild, so dees, so pure a fashion ! We recked not of the heartless crowd, "Nor heeded cruel parents' frowning ; But lived u one long blissful dream, And spouted Tennyson and Browning. And when the cruel fates decreed That for a season I must leave her, It wrurg my very heart to see How much our parting seamed to grieve her One happy moment, too, her head Reposed so lightly on my shoulder ! In dreams I live that scene again, Aud in my arms again enfold her. She sjave me one iong auburn curl, She wore my picture in a locke;, He letters, with blue ribbon tied, I carried in my left coat-pocket. Those notes, rose-scented and pink-hued. Displayed more sentiment than knowledge.) . I wrote about four times a week That year I was away to College. But oh, at length a change came o'er The spirit of my dream One morning 1 got a chilly line from May, Id which, without the slightest warniug. She said she shortly meant to wed Tom Barnes (a parson, fat and jolly); She sent my notes and ruby ring, And hoped I would M forget my folly." I sent her ail her letters back, I called bar false and fickle-hearted, And swore I hailed with joy the hour That saw me free. And so we parted. I quoted liyron by the page, I smoked Havana? by the dozens, And then 1 went out West aud feM In love with all my pretty cousins. Scribner' far .Vtwnoer. " SUMMER-LAND." Tilt Sdt World According to Spiritual ists. Summer-Land" is the name given by the seer Davis to that bourne from whence it -was popularly supposed be fore the day of spirit-rapping no trav eler returned. In other words, it is the heaven of the Spiritualists who believe in Mr. Davis teachings. Before going into a description of the Summer-Land, Mr. Davis' statement of the manner in which the spirit quits the earthly tene ment by the process called death will be entertaining : HEATH SO-CALLED. Suppose a human being to b lying in the death-bed before you. present not seeing anything Persons of "the neautuui processes of the interior " are grief-stricken and weeping. The departing one, it may be supposed, is a beloved member of the family. But there in the corner of the room of sor row stands one (the seer) who sees through the outward phenomena pre sented by the dying one. To the out ward senses the feet are there, the head on the pillow, and the hands clasped, outstretched, or crossed over the breast. " If the person is dying under or upon cotton there are signs of agony, the head and body changing from side to side. Never allow any soul to pass out of the physical body through the agony of cotton or feathers either beneath or in folds about the sufferer." The per son is dying, and we will suppose that is a rapid death. The feet grow cold. The clairvoyant sees directly above the head what may be oalled the magnetic halo, "an ethereal emanation, in appear ance golden, and throbbing as though conscious." The body is now cold up to the knees and elbows, and the em anation has ascended higher in the air. The legs are cold to the hips and the arms to the shoulders, and the emana tion, though it has not arisen higher in the room, is more expanded. Now the death-coldness steals over the breast, and around on either side, and the em anation has attained a higher position nearer the oeiling. The person has ceased to breathe, the pulse is still, and the emanation is elongated and fash ioned in the outline of the human form. Beneath it is connected the brain. The golden emanation is connected with the brain by a very fine life-thread. Now the body of the emanation ascends. Then appears something white and shining, like a human head ; next, in a few moments, a faint outline of the face divine, then the fair neck and beautiful shoulders ; then in a rapid succession come all parts of the new body down to the feet, "a bright, shining image, a little smaller than this physical body, but a perfect reproduction in all except disfigurements." The fine life-thread continues attached to the old brain. The next thing is the withdrawal of the electrio principle. When this thread snaps the spiritual body is free and pre pared to accompany its guardians to Summer-Land "Yes, there is the spiritual body ; it is sown in dishonor and raised in brightness." THE SP-BIT JOURNEY. The newly arisen spiritual body moves off toward a thread of magnetic light whioh has penetrated the room. The spiritual being is asleep, just like a new-born, happy babe; the eyes are closed, and there seems to be no con sciousc ess of existence. It is an uncon scious slumber. In many cases this sleep is long, in others not at all. The love-thread now draws the new- horn bodv to the outside door. A " thomrht-shaf t " descends upon one who is busy about the body. "This person is impressed to open the door of the awemng nun ioto " ij- d moments. Or some other egress is nnpnwl and the spiritual body is silent ly removed from the house." Celestial attraction draws it obliquely through tha fnriw.fiTfi miles of air. It is but rounded bv a beautiful assemblage of tr. . it rr. inn friends. They throw 1 r.-tff n cr orms around the sleeping one, and on they all speed to the world of Light. When the time approaches for fv, snii-it'n awokenme. then celestial music, or some gentle manipulation, or melodv of distant streams, or something like breathing ma,l over the sleeping one, -una, sensation to return, and thus the newcomer is introduced to the Summer Land." too tacittai nv MTMMBB-IiAND. s,.i tm Afr Andrew Jackson Davis' picture of the change called death, it would certainly be a very pleasant thing to believe, if he could onng auj vm thoti hid visions to prove it, nnrl it -nrnnlfl rnh t,l last hour of all its terrors. Now. having taken the spirit into its new abode, it is next in order to ascm-fain what that abode is. In an swering the inquiries which will natur ally arise under this head, we are op aA Vw a communication from the late Theodore Parker, which appears in a Boston spiritual paper. Being asked where is the spiritual world be replies that it is " About sixty-five billions of miles from the planet earth. It is a spiritual planet, revolving on its 1 MUSJU LIST KIGHT MOOD. own axis, around its own spiritual sun, and in its own spiritual solar system, and is subject to laws just as perfect as the laws governing in the physical solar system that come within the range of human sense ; and yet, wherever a spirit can exist, there, in degree, is a spirit world, but not the spiritual planet proper of this material earth." SPRING GARDEN CITY. Mr. Parker also says that he lives in Springlarden City. Spirit is but sub limated matter, and matter, after all ; therefore it requires a given time for that body of matter, or spirit, to pass from one point to another. The time required depends very much upon the strength or will of the spirit, and upon its knowledge of the elements through which it has to pass ; of the universal powers with which it has to deal. Some spirits can pass through space more quickly than others ; some find it ex ceedingly difficult, because they do not know how to take the best advantage of the currents of magnetic and electrio life that they meet with. " So, then," continues the disembodied Mr. Parker, " if I say I can leave this place and be at my own villa in Spring Garden City in five secoRds of earth-time, you are not to suppose that every other spirit can do the same thing, only that I can do it." These human wills, in the spirit-world, are the fast or slow horses that yon have to drive. CELESTIAL SCENERY. Mr. Davis says that the Summer Land is vastly more beautiful than the most beautiful landscape of earth. Ce lestial waters are more limpid, the at mosphere more soft and genial, the streams arc always musical, and the fer tile islands there are always full of meanings. The trees are not exotics, and the birds are literally a part of the celestial clime, every one having its lesson of divine significance. The Summer-Laud is every way a world as actual as this. It is a. comprehensive sphere. Astronomically speaking the earth is on one side of that vast galaxy of suns and planets termed the "milky way," and directly across this great physical belt of stars we find the sub lime repose of the Summer-Land, and this is but the receptacle of the im mortal inhabitants who ascend from the different planets that belong to our solar system. These planets all have celestial rivers, which lead from them toward the heavenly shores. The spirit land has a firmament. It is filled with stars, suns, and satellites. It rolls in the blue immensity. The sky there is not without its clouds. Thev chansre very much like the clouds of our tropics, yet they do not much resemble them. The changes are like those in the Southern skies, but the clouds themselves are very different. A SUMMER-LAND CITY. In a volume containing communica tions from distinguished personages in the other world, sold at the Spiritual ists' bookstores, there is an account of the city of Spring Garden, before al luded to, as the residence of the spirit body of Theodore Parker. The late Margaret Puller, Countess d Ossoli. is the alleged authority for the statements contained in this connection. Probablv the description will answer for other cities in the spirit world. Spring Gar den contains between sixty thousand and seventy thousand inhabitants, a jority of whom are engaged in literary and artistic pursuits. It is iust the place where all good newspaper men are likely to go when they shuffle off. The streets are handsome, the pave ments being covered with a brilliant enamel, which is formed by dampening certain yellow powder, which, when hardened, shines like amber. They are laid out in circles surrounding a large park of several acres, which forms the center of the city. This park is embel lished with trees and flowering plants of every description, and does not differ materially from the extensive parks to be found on earth, except in its manage ment. Forming an outer circle to the park is the main thoroughfare of the city. The buildings are of a light, graceful style of architecture, adapted to the out-door life which the people generally lead. The street facing the park is devoted to the display of com modities and creations ol the spirit world and its inhabitants. Here beau tiful fabrics, finer than the web of a spider and ornamented with the most exquisite floral designs taken from na ture are exposed to view. There are, however, no millinery establishments in bpring Garden City, and the females wear simply their own beautiful hair, which they adorn, with flowers and a peculiar lace "as thin as a breath." There are many artists' studios in the streets, and the art of painting is car ried to greater perfection than it ever has been on earth. The citv contains many institutions of learning, which are accessible to all. MARRIAGE. In the Summer-Land (we again quote from the volumes just alluded to, and not from A. J. Davis this time) the unions of male and female occur from very similar causes to those which bring about like unions bn earth. The parties are drawn to each other through the operation of a natural law, and the re sult is greater happiness than is usually found on earth in these relations. Mar riage in the spirit land is not an indis soluble bond. Some minds associate together in harmony and expand in the same direction, and with these the union is permanent. There are others whose states and conditions after awhile become changed Such seek new com panions, and this is permitted without discredit to the individuals. Many forms of marriage ceremonies are extant in the different societies and countries. Garlands of flowers and symphonies of divine music are bestowed upon the bride and bridegroom. From these spiritual marriages are born soul at tributes sic. Human beings are never generated. They need what is known as the material world for their nurture and growth. PARSON POHICK'S PERIL. The Rev. Abiram Pohick was a de vout man and zealous circuit-rider, but in worldly matters notably absent minded. So much so that if his wife, who was a noticing woman, hadn't kept a keen lookout when he rose in the morning, ten to one he would have ap peared in public, half the time, arrayed in her habiliments instead of his own- an exchange which some would have scoffingly declared not inappropriate. His head once set on a text, he was oblivious of all else. To find his way round the ciruit, he trusted implicitly to Old Job s geographical Knowledge Old Job was the parson's horse. He was not an old horse, either, but a likely animal in the prime of lif e. It was his gravity and patience, mayhap, that earned him the sobriauet of "Old Job, He was a horse of sense, withal, and, to a congregation that understood Houyhnhnm, could probably have preached a more practical sermon than his master. A portion of Parson Pohick's field of labor lay in a wild, out-of-the-way region ; and it was on his first journey to keep an appointment there that he met with the adventure we are about to relate. After a wearisome day's travel, Old Job and the parson sought and found rest one night at a settler's cabin. At a later hour another wayfarer arrived ; and, after a hearty supper, and af socia ble chat, the two guests, who 'were to take an early start in the morning, re tired to rest, both being assigned to one apartment. Mr. Pohick, his devotions ended, would gladly have conversed a little with his fellow-guest, but the latter was disinclined to talk ; and the parson, from falling into a revery on his forth coming sermon, in due time fell sound asleep. Me awoke at daybreak, out iounu nis companion had already gone. Having a long road yet beiore him, the parson rose at once, and having made his toilet, and performed his morning duties with all proper dispatch, he left the house without disturbing the family having paid his scot the night before and finding his way to the stable, he saddled his horse and rode off, intending to breakfast further on. It was a fresh, bright morning ; and, as the parson rode along, he sought to improve the time by more fully working up the details of the discourse where with he was preparing to enlighten a people hitherto groping in darkness. " Get along, Job," said the parson, at the end of a mental paragraph ; "I never knew you lag so before. " But the horse seemed absorbed in his own reflections, and paid no heed. Inattention to his master's words was an unusual thing in Old Job, and might have attracted the parson's notice ; but just then he began subdividing his " Ninetcenthly," and the horse might have stopped stock still for all his rider would have known. The clattering of hoofs, and the cry of " Stop thief!" behind him, at length broke the parson's chain of thought. "Stop, you old villain, or we'll blow you through !" yelled several voices, ac companying the command with divers expletives which greatly shocked the parson's ears. Parson Pohick had no suspicion that such words could possibly be addressed to him ; but the reproof of profanity was a duty he never neglected. So, turning about, he quoted several texts on the subject, and would have enlarged upon them edifyingly but for the deri sive shouts of the company in whose midst he quickly found himself. "Ha! ha !" laughed one ; "jest hear the old rascal !" " Satan reprovin' sin !" added an other. " Whose boss is that ?" queried a third. " Whose horse ?" echoed the parson " whose is what horse ?" " Why, that 'ere you're mounted on." ' ' This t Why, this is my horse Old Job," answered the parson, more and more surprised. " Your horse !" exclaimed a burly fel low. " You say that agin, an' I'll mash your mug. That's my hoss as was stole, an' you stole 'im, an' his name's not Job; it's Pete." The horse whinnied at the name, as if turning State's evidence against his rider. " Git down, you old reprobate !" the burly man continued. "Why, I've owned that hoss ever sence he was foalded, an' there's plenty here ken prove it." " That's so !" chimed in several. " Git down ! git down ! you tarnal old thief I" A dozen revolvers were leveled at him, and the parson felt constrained to dismount. " I assure you, gentlemen, the horse is mine," he protested earnestly, "and being a minister of the gospel, my word should have some weight." " Minister ef the haw ! haw !" The man who tried to repeat the words broke down with laughter. " A pretty minister you are!" jeered another, who, searching the parson's person, drew a pack of cards from one pocket and an empty whisky bottle from another. Mr. Pohick was dumbfounded. "There is some terrible mistake here !" was all he could utter. "What say you, gentlemen? is the pris'ner guilty or not guilty ?" sang out the leader of the crowd. " Guilty !" they all said. With equal unanimity it was voted to hang him on the spot ! My friends, before taking a fellow creature's life," pleaded the parson. you should have clear and certain proof." ' roof ! what proof would you have?" replied the leader. "Wasn't the hoss found on you or vou on the hoss which is the same thing in law ? Come, string 'im up, boys !" And the poor parson would surely have ended his worldly career then and there but for the timely arrival of an other party. in their midst was a man in clerical garb none other than Mr. Pohick's companion of the preceding night se curely bound on a horse. The new company was headed bv a Deputy Sheriff well acquainted with Mr. Pohick. " Glad to see you, Mr. Pohick," said the officer ; " but, bless me, I hardly knew you in that rig !" The parson s eyes, for the first time. fell on his garments. They were cer tainly not his own. Nothing could be more unclerical than their cot and ma terial. The cards and whisky bottle were now accounted for : and when Old Job, on whose back the other prisoner was tied, greeted his master with his old familiar neigh, the whole truth flashed on the parson's mind. The man with whom be had shared his room the night before was a horse-thief, who, rising first in the morning, had not only taken the parson's clothes for a disguise, leaving his own, but had taken Old Job, who was far the better horse. instead of the one he had recently stolen the parson, in his absent-mindedness, never noticing the difference. The thief was one well known to the officers, who had been for some time on his track ; and when the Sheriff" s depu ty, who knew Old Job as well as hi master, saw the former and the clothes of the latter in the possession of a noted outlaw, he feared at first that murder as well as theft had been committed and murder would have been committed but for his arrival in the nick of time. " Let it teach you to keep your eyes open next time," was all the consolation the parson got irom Mrs. jfoiuck on reaching home and telling her how near he had come to being hanged A c iv York Liedger. While .Northern woolen-mills are stopped, those of Georgia are increasing the number of looms and reaping dm dends. Columbus has 35,000 spindles, 60 woolen and 879 cotton looms, all built in less than seven years by a oily which lost 60,000 bales of cotton, worth fifteen million dollars, and millions of other property. All Sorts. Olive Logan is deaf. Bismarck is a great fox-hunter. The Astors own 1,500 houses in New York city. There are thirty-eight Roman Catho lic churches in Brooklyn. Cooper's "Bee-Hunter" chewed to bacco, and he lived to be 103. The Jews say that Judaism is de clining, and they ought to know. Milwaukee's census shows a popu lation of 94,405, an increase of 22,955 since 1870. Two Atlanta professors, who recent ly tried a mule steak, pronounce it finer than real beef. The hair of a lady in Montpelier, Vt. , turned white in a single night. She fell into a flour barrel. Gov. Furnas, of Nehama county, Neb., raised 5,000 bushels of peaches in his orchard this year. The first daily journal in the world was that o Frankfort-on-the-Main, es tablished in 1615. It is still issued. "As I never pay my own debts it isn't likely I shall pay hers." This is the frank way a Tacoma manadvertises his errant wife. The Northumberland House, in Lon don, was bought for the purpose of opening a new street. The price paid was $2,489,500. A new salt-basin has been discovered in Saginaw Valley, Mich., which is deemed inexhaustible. The brine is obtained at a depth of 1,764 feet. Yeddo has eighteen newspapers, among others the " Nischinshinjishi," the " Tokionichinichi Schimbum," and the " Chinbansashi.'' Honor and glory to E. F. Phillips, of Michigan, who has written 5,115 words on a postal card ! These would make about three columns of closely printed matter iu a large newspaper. A great man Phillips is ! "The Son of Man" advertises in a Cincinnati paper that the world will come to an end on the 4th of July, 1876. The sooner, therefore, this hope ful son of a gun gets out of " sin, sin," and into another State, the better. The Austrian Polar expedition, which has declared to the world the inadvisa bility of attempting to explore the far north or discover an open sea, would seem to have been composed it explor ers competent to judge. From recent and more detailed reports, it is shown that the expedition last spring did reach the most northerly point ever trod by the feet of men, 82 degrees 50 minutes north la' itude. Here they raised their native flag and gazed away to the north as far as the eye and glass could reach over a dreary waste of perpetual ice, Austria will send one more party ovei the same ground. One of the most pathetic reminders of the recent Fall Biver disaster is the habit of a woman whose three daughters were killed, but who still insanely be lieves that they are alive. Every day, when the factory bells are ringing for dinner, the woman, who saw her three daughters borne away to be buried, that Sunday, takes a tin-pail, as she used to do, and starts for Granite Mill No. 1. Sometimes her neighbors divert her attention by telling her that it isn't bell time, but other days she walks to the place where the mill once stood, sees nothing that she can recognize, turns back in a dazed way, and goes to her deserted home again. A Matrimonial Sensation. A sincrular storv comes to us from Westmoreland, and I feel that no injus tice will be done the parties by giving the facts as they have thus far occur red. There are two residents of that town (whom we will consider Jones and Smith), whose land " joins." Jones is a farmer and has a daughter who will be sixteen years of age in a few weeks. His neighbor Smith (who is in the employ of the Borne, Watertown and Ogdensburg Kailroad Company) has among his children a boy who will be sixteen years of age next January, and to whom it was his intention to give a trade and educate till he should attain his majority. Last April Mr. Smith indentured his son to farmer Jones for a period of six or seven months, and at the expiration of that time the boy was to go to school. An attachment sprang up between the young people, and a few days ago young Smith asked his father's consent to the union, saying that Farm er Jones favored it. Smith called on Jones a few days subsequently, who de nied giving his consent to the matrimo nial arrangement, and told Smith in straight English that his son had lied. After Smith left the house, Jones is said to have told young Smith that his father proposed locking him up the next morning. What particularly fol lowed is not known, save that these two children were packed off to the church in Lowell and legally married, young Smith wearing a suit of clothes belong ing to Jones oldest bov. As soon as Mr. Smith was informed of the mar riage he saw his boy and made tnis proposition : To stay at the home of Farmer Jones three nights in the week, and at his (Smith's) the remaining four nights, which would insure going to school and a trade, as a start down the matrimonial stream. Up to yesterday. young tsmith had not reported, anu "All s quiet along the lines. corres pondence Utica Herald, The Sczaroch. The Russians, it is said, have adopted a new shell which, from its formidable character, according to recent experi ments, is attracting much attention on the part of military authorities, xne following description of the new pro jectile is going the rounds of the scien tific press. It is well known that the ordinary elongated bolt will not permit of a ricochet fire, and as this species of firing is very effective against masses of troops, the loss is a matter of con siderable moment. The sczaroch, as the new projectile is called, is either a percussion or a time shell, combined with a shot. The latter ricochets beyond the point of explosion of the bursting charge. The shell por tion is a simple iron cylinder, to one end of which is secured by a thin sheet of lead a spherical shot. On leaving the gun the combined projectile acts like an ordinary elongated shell, but as soon as the explosion of the charge takes place the cylinder flies to pieces, while the shot, impelled with the addi tional velocity ricochets for hundreds of feet ahead. In firing at batteries it is claimed that the double effect of this projectile comes into excellent use, as the shell might be exploded among the guns, while the ball would strike far in the rear among the reserves ; or while the shell might burst in the front rank of an advancing column, the ball would continue its course through several sue oeeding columns. Trials of a Ticket-Seller. " Ticket to Ne Yark," said Pat, the other day. at the Providence railroad station. " By the Shore Line ? " inquired the ticket clerk, who always wants to be certain with this class of customers. " Shure line ? Faix I do, and mighty shure too, for I want to see me brother Dennis in Worcester, shure, an the way." "That's not the Shore Line. Yon want to go to the station on Albany street." " Divil a bit do I want to go to any station. Faix, I was in a station all night for givin' an omadahn a black eye that was blackguardin' me, jist." "You don't understand The Shore Line don't go to Worcester." " Augh, bother that ! Me brother towld me the train was always shure to go to Worcester, and I want the shure train." " No, no !" said the clerk, laughing. " This train does not run to Worcester, this is the Shore S-h-o-r-e L-i-n-e on shore. You understand what com ing on shore is, don't you ? " "Coming ashore, is it? An' is it laughin' ye are bekase ye think I'm just ashore, and I a votin' more than a dozen times wid the byes of the owld sixth since I set me fut in Ameriky? " " I tell you this train does not run to Worcester." " Don't it ? Beoad, perhaps it walks there thin, for I've heard av things be in' slow and shure." "If you want to go to New York by way of Wore " " I don't want to go any by way, avic ; it's the shure way, 1 towld ye and stop at Worcester. " "This road don't stop at Worcester, I tell you ; it goes to New York." "An' Worcester is bet wane Boston an' New Yark?" " Yes, but not on this road" " Augh ! go away wid ye ! Give me me ticket, and let me go. Faix, I'll stop if the road don't." " There's a ticket for New York," said the clerk, " but you can't stop at Wor cester with it, mind that." " Shure I do," said Pat, passing over his currency. "Faix, I've no desire to shtop at Worcester wid it. Shure, I'll leave it wid some gentleman in the car till I return," The case was hopeless, and the ticket-seller was obliged to let Pat go, but could not help but smile at the task the conductor had in prospect. "Blazer" Finds a Faradlse. We have, says the Virginia (Nev.) Enterprise, in this town, a genius known as "Blazer," who is " never at peace except when at war." He would leave his dinner any day if he thought he could find a fight. When he is un able to find a muss he is perfectly wretched. A week without a battle, and he begins to think there is nothing in the world worth living for. Although he seldom wins more than one fight in ten, it is all the same to him. He rather enjoys a good pummeling. A night or two since some friends of his, who happened to be passing through the " Barbary coast region of the town, had their attention attracted to a shebang near at hand by a tremendous uproar. There was a smashing of glass, a crashing of chairs, bottles, and tumblers ; fierce yells, bitter curses, and, in short, a fearful commotion. Thinking one of the voices within had a familiar sound, the gentlemen looked in at the door of the gin-mill, and there beheld Blazer surrounded by about half a dozen " coast rangers," who were giving it to him " straight from the shoulder " on all sides. Blazer's nose was flattened ; one eye boasted a watch fob ; his upper lip was laid open by a blow from a tumbler, and his clothes were nearly torn from his back. A clip under the eye sent him "to grass," while those nearest him began jumping upon him and kicking him iu the ribs. His friends at once rushed to his res cue. The breath was completely knocked and kicked out of poor Blazer, and he lay stretched upon the floor. Some water dashed in his face revived him. Recognizing his friends, he smiled as amiably as was possible with his bloated and distorted upper lip, and huskily whispered : "Boys, it's gorgeous ! I've stumbled into a regular paradise 1" Banbnry Bailey in England. A dog show was the principal feature to-day, and I am extravagantly fond of dogs. The afternoon I came into the city I found two mastiffs in the depot. In the confusion I thought they were two freight cars that had by some in scrutable means got off the track. I was glad to find they were dogs. The larger of the two was called the cham pion of England, and added other laurels by carrying off the prize at the show. This was the largest dog I ever saw ; it was the largest dog any two people ever saw. I thought at first I would buy him, but partly hesitated on learning the price $1,000 and com pletely gave up the idea before I saw him out of the depot. He was secured by a chain in the hands of an attendant, a man who appeared to be in a chronic state of perspiration and protestation. And he was an erratic dog. He made violent and entirely unexpected dashes at various objects or openings, and wherever he went the perspiring and protesting individual was sure to go. He snapped him oft his feet every other minute, and in the intervals hauled him over square-cornered trunks, bump ed him against other people with lug gage in their hands, or shoved him over highly indignant but utterly help less little boys, whose unrestrained cu riosity had led them too close to the performance. The last I saw of the keeper (?) he was passing through the door in charge of the mastiff, a boy was running after with his hat, and peo ple on the sidewalk were appropriating eievaiea places wim spotless alacrity. Manchester JLetter. Velocity of Thought The velocity of thought is commonly regarded as unsurpassed in nature. 1 . m . . m " notion which is well illustrated by the phrase quick as thought, so fre quently used to express the utmost con ceivable rapidity of action. But Mr, George F. Rodwell, in an extremely suggestive paper on the perception of the invisible, lately printed in Macmil lan's Magazine, points out that "quick as thought" is not nearly bo " quick as lightning ; for while, according to Sir Charles Wheatstone, a flash of light ning lasts only the one thousandth part of a second, tne experiments of Jjon ders snow mai 11 rases auout one twenty-sixth part of a second to think. We believe, however, that the expert mefats made by Prof. Ogden N. Rood. of Columbia College, New York, dur ing a thunder-storm in August. 1870. showed that the duration of the flashes of lightning then seen was twice great as ir unaues wneaistone s re suit or, in round numbers, the five hundredth part of a second Lost in a Wisconsin Pinery J. L. Robinson, train-boy ou the Wisconsin Central railroad, conceived the novel idea of hunting partridges with a revolver, and in order to give shape to his thought, left the upward bound train at Mill Creek Station, fif teen miles northwest of Stevens Point, Wis., on Friday, Oct. 9. It was his in tention to return ou the first incoming car, which was due one hour from the pinery. Alas for human purpose and expectation ! A few rods from the sta tion and he was as thoroughly bewil dered as though a hundred miles inter vened between him and civilization. His hunt for game proved fruitless, as well as his effort to retrace his steps. The young man wandered about in the woods for four days, and when found was half famished. Scores of people turned out to hunt for the wanderer, and the excitement attending the search is described as intense. When Robin son first realized that he was lost he wrote and attached to a twig the follow ing note : " I am Ist in the woods and can't find 1117 wav out. J. Jj. Robinson. " Oct. 9." After sleeping on the ground during Friday night he moved on and dropped the following in his path : "I am lost in the woods ; if anybody will show me oat I will give them $5. i am news agent on the Wisconsin Central road. Keep calling me ; if I hear I will come. "J. It. RoisINSON. " Oct. 10, Saturday." At this time if he had taken a south erly course it would have brought him to the railroad track. Instead, how ever, he went north, reaching the east side of Bear creek, where he left an other communication as follows : "I am lost, and can't find my way out. Look for me aud you shall have 100 reward. "J. i. Robinson." A little farther on he dropped his handkerchief, which, together with the former memorandums, aided largely in the success of the search. On Sunday he reached an old haying camp, where he found several bushels of potatoes and some salt. Here he remained until Monday afternoon, when he left the following, written on an old tea-chest cover : "Friends, I am lost. For God's sake look for me. Iam starving to death ; can't find anything to eat. Five hundred dollars to the one that finds me and leads me out, of these woods. I live in Menasha, Wis. My name is Joseph L. Robinson. Carry the news to my poor wife. " I am going to leave here in the morning. I go right straight throngh the woods. Please hunt after me, and you will be well paid for your trouble. May God have mercy on my soul. Tell my wife my last words were about her. Directions Mrs. M. V. Robinson, Me nasha, Wis. I leave Tuesday about 9 o'clock. "Five hundred dollars to any man that finds me and leads me out of these woods, and takes me home to my family. O God ! I am starving to death by inches. Follow me, won't yon. for God's sake? It is hard to give up life. I haven't had anything to eat since last Friday. " If I am dead when you find me, take me home. " Joseph L. Robinson, Menasha, Wis." On Tuesday he was observed near this shanty, and on perceiving his rescuers, he shouted, " I am lost, I am lost, I am lost !" and then lying on the ground and kicking with all his might, he cried, " I am found, I am found, I am found !" Robinson is now at home with his friends, with a wholesome horror of pistols and partridges. The Eouniis Cure for Consumption. A correspondent of the London Daily News, writing from Samara, on the Volga, says : "It has long been known that the Tartar tribes inhabiting what is generally known as Independent Tartary (no longer, however, since Geu. Kaufmauns visit, particularly inde pendent), and nomad tribes scattered over its northern frontiers, the Turko mans and the Kirghis, as well as othei tribes more or less akin to these, such as the half-nomad Bashkirs of Orenberg, all used . fermented mare s milk, which they called Koumis, not only as a beverage, but as a substantial portion of their daily food It was re ported to combine the nourishing prop erties of milk with the invigorating qualities of alcohol ; indeed, among its other virtues, it was said to exhilarate and intoxicate. It came into the heads of some Russian medical men, of whom, I believe, Dr. Portnikoff, of Samara, to have been one of the first, that this koumis might possibly possess medical properties as well. It was observed that consumption and its cognate dis orders were unknown among the tribes . 1 .j 3 - 1 ' ri 1 . wno namtuauy aran Koumis. starting from this observation, experiments were made on the vilia corpora of consump tive patients, and with highly beneficial results. Upon this Dr. Portnikoff started a koumis establishment at Samara. Its situation offered him many advantages. In the first place, from its position on the Volga, it was at least approachable, whereas Oren berg, the nearest spot where koumis could be said to be indigenous, was the ultima thule of the civilized world. This new establishment ou the Volga was the means, therefore, of pushing the koumis outposts 300 miles westward. in the next place it . was observed that the pasturage at Samara was similar to that of Urenberg. It is supposed that the virtue of koumis consists in a great measure in the rich quality of the mare's miiK, which again is dependent, not only on the race of mares, but on the pasturage on which they are fed. All these are propositions which are more or less vehemently affirmed and denied by the different camps into which koumis connoisseurs are divided." Produce of the Earth. Take the potato away from Ireland, and starvation comes. Famine recent ly had its hold ou Bengal on account of a failure of the rice crop. Bread fruit is to west India both food and clothing. Heaven sends it and causes it to grow, and the lazy natives ask nothing fur ther. And yet all these yield to tne de spised bamboo. We go fishing with these poles : the Chinese eat them. The uses to which it is put render it a na tional benefactor. Houses, boats, screens and water-wheeis are made of it, together with fences, ropes, furni ture, hats, umbrellas, and all varieties of weapons, lamp-wicks, pencils, brush es, pens, aqueducts, telescopes, and a thousand other things of daily use. We might almost say that were the bamboo to perish suddenly from off the earth the whole Chinese Empire would collapse. A singular and affecting trait is re corded of the bison when young. Whenever a cow bison falls by the hand of the hunter, anp happens to have a calf, the helpless creature, instead of attempting to escape, stays by its fallen dam, with many expressions of strong affection. The mother being secured, the hunter makes no attempt on the oalf , because this is unnecessary, but pro ceeds to cut up the carcass ; and thn, laying it on his horse, he returns home, followed by the young one, which thus instinctively follows the remains of its parent. A hunter once rode into the town of Cincinnati, between the Miamis, followed in this manner by three calves, all of which had just lost their dams. Naming Children. A child has a right to his individu ality, to be himself and no other; to maintain against the world the divine fact for which he stands. And before this fact father, mother, instructor should stand reverently ; seeking rather to understand and interpret its significance than to wrest it from its original purpose. It is not necessarily to be inscribed with the family name, nor written over with the family tradi tions. Nature delights in surprises, and will not guarantee that the ehildrec of her poets shall sing, nor that every. Quaker baby shall take kindly to drab color, or have an inoerent longing foar a scoop-bonnet or a broad-brimmed hat. In the very naming of a child his in dividuality should be recognized. He should not be invested with the cast-off cognomen of some dead ancestor of his torical celebrity, a name musty as the grave-clothes of the original wearer dolefully redolent of old associations a ghostly index finger forever pointing: to the past. Let it be something fresh; a new name standing for a new fact, the suggestion of a history yet to be writ ten, a prophecy to be fulfilled. The ass was well enough clothed in his own russet, but when he would put on the skin of the lion every attribute became contemptible. Commonplace people slip easily through the world, but when we find them heralded by great names we resent the incongruity, and insist upon making them less than they are. George Washington selling peanuts, Julius Caesar as a bootblack, and Virgil a vender of old clothes, make but a sorry figure. Leave to the dead kings their purple and ermine, to the poets their laurels, and to the heroes of th earth sole possession of the names they have rendered immortal. Let the child have a nam;? that doe; not mean too much at the outset, but which he can fill with his individu ality, and make by-and-by to stand foz exactly the fact that he ie. Victor!'. Magazine. Sunlight for the Sick. Dr. Wm. H. Hammond, in discussing the sanitary influence of light, ob serves that the effects of deficient light upon the inmates of hospital wards atd sick chambers have free neatly come under his special notice ; that most physicians know how carefully the attendants upon the sick endeavor to -exclude every ray of bght from the apartment, and even some members ot the profession are singularly assiduous in this respect ; but -that the practice, except in some cases of actual disorder of the brain and other parts of the -nervous system, is pernicious, admits . of no question. During the late civil war Dr. H. visited a camp and hospifcv. in West Virginia, in onsequence of in formation received that the sickness . and mortality there prevailing were un accountably great, and he made a minute examination into all the cir cumstances connected with the situa tion of the camp, the food of the men, etc. Among other peculiarities he found the sick crowded into a small room, from which the light was ex cluded by blinds of India-rubber cloth. The patients were as effectually bleached as is celery by the earth being heaped up around it ; pale, bloodless, ghost-like looking forms, thwy seemed to be scarcely mortal. Convalescence was, under such circumstances, ac cording to Dr. Hammond, almost im possible, and his belief was that maxi-v 1 of the men had died, who, had they been subjected to the operation of the simplest laws of nature, would have recovered. An Earthquake Experience. A lady correspondent of the Cleve land Herald, writing from CaJlao, gives as follows her first experience of an earthquake shook: "Night before last we were, having a very restless night ; could not get to sleep. About 12 o'clock Belle awoke, her big eye wide open, and a few moments after a low, underground thunder came rolling toward us. H. sprang ap and said. ' earthquake,' but there was no need of being informed, for it was unmistaka ble. I jumped from my bed and cried, O, my God I ' By the time we were fairly up, the house was coivuised with tne demoniac snase. 1 iaa dux one idea in my head ; it hod been told me a few nights before to keep my slippers always by the bedside. I had neglected to do so, and in the frenzy of lright I could only cry out, 1 Oh, where are my slippers?' B., who lay in her little bed quite composed, not appreciatiis. the danger, told me just where they--were. My hands were cold and clam my, and I was truly beside myself. I cannot describe an earthquake in n manner that you could comprehend. They are neither sublime rcr grand, but terrible and demoniacal. This one lasted about fifteen or sixteen seconds, yet it aroused sensations that I did not get over for twenty-four hours. All night I was trying to realize that God had anything to do with a terror so horrible." The Famine in Nebrjika. Death from starvation, for the actu al want of food, within eighteen hours' travel of Chicago, and in the heart oi the grain-growing region of the conn try, is something that should attract the attention of the public. Gen. Otdr commanding the Department of the Platte, and who is personally cognizant of the facts, addressed the Board ot Trade yesterday, telling in plain and direct terms the sad story of the de struction in Western Nebraska caused by the ravages of the grasshoppers. Prom the reports of his officers on the ground and among these people, he has reliable information as to the actual condition of affairs. He states that several cases of actual death oi children have already token place. Fathers have been compelled to aban don their families and seek work and food In one house the corpse of a child was found that had perished for want of food, and near it the mother prostrate and dying from the same cause. He states that iu Boone, Gree ley, Sherman, HowarJ, Buffalo, anil aH the counties fifty miles west of the Mis souri river, two-thirds of the people are destitute of all the necessaries of life. They have neither clothing nor shoes ; and food is impossible to get. Chicago Tribune. A Baptist missionary in India pro poses that men and .women who go out as missionaries shall enlist for ten years only. He thinks by this plan the missionary service would be xiore ef fective, as many missions are ruined by sick men hanging on, and by the reten tion of men too old for hard service. Furthermore, more persons would be willing to serve as missionaries than on the life plan. Form times as many patents were is sued in this country last year as were granted in England during the same time.