the preacher was made happy with a liberal supply. | now edited by Cornelius Boudinalt, a grandson of the Fearing that I would think him a beggar, he said, in an first Cherokee editor, who began the Cherokee Phoenix apologetic way : The drought came; spoiled corn; in 1828. raised no crop; would have done better to have preached all the while.' "A poor but worthy man," said the Chief, as the preacher passed out. "He is a North Carolina Cherokee, who has been among us only a few years. He tries to do a good work among his people, but last year his crops failed him; and he is needy, and I previously told him I would help him to grain." A Cherokee despises the idea of being thought in any sense a beggar; but the needy and the sick stranger are carefully looked after. From earliest times the Cherokees have tenderly cared for the orphans of their people, and to-day one of the most remarkable of institutions is their Orphan Asylum, a handsome structure, in which the unfortunate of their Nation are given a home. The object of this institution is to constitute a home for the children, where they may receive parental care and affection, and at the same time be placed within the reach of the facilities necessary for an education. The National Prison is a stone structure, situated not far from the Council-house. In early days the whipping - post was almost the only mode of punishment. These whippings took place in the Public Square, and the convicts were strapped to the trees, and lashed according to the enormity of the offense. Public executions by hanging finally were adopted, and in the prison-yard now can be seen the gallows on which twelve convicts were executed. Said the sheriff: "They say that the Indian is stolid. Call it what you may, I never saw one of them flinch at the presence of death. I never saw an Indian tremble or falter on the scaffold when the time came. One of our convicts even went on the gallows and adjusted the rope around his neck, and then calmly awaited his fate." A Cherokee killed an adopted brother of one of the leading men of the Nation. Before the trap was sprung he calmly made his speech, confessed his guilt, said he was sorry, but knew it was too late, and that the punishment was just, and he was ready to suffer for it. There was no trembling, no sign of fear. The adopted brother of the murdered man sprung the trap that sent the criminal to his deserts. The Cherokee prison is a square, sandstone building. The prisoners are nearly all kept in a halfbasement, two rooms being set apart for sleeping purposes, in which are comfortable beds. In the inner room is a stove, around which the prisoners are allowed to gather in cold weather, in a social manner. They are in charge of a heavily armed guard. The prisoners are made to do some work every day outside the prison-walls. They cut wood, work on the streets, and, in fact, are put to any kind of labor that may be at hand. Their prison clothes are striped around the body. The average number in the prison for the last eight years has been less than thirty, which makes a most favorable showing. The prisoners are often too poor to get a lawyer to plead their cause. We were informed that the poorer Cherokees suffered injustice at times from the lack of counsel. The Cherokees also have an insane asylum, which at the present time has about thirty inmates. Not only the insane, but the idiotic, blind and other unfortunates are kept here. The building, like most of the public buildings, is of brick. The Cherokee Advocate is published by the Nation, and gives their council proceedings and the laws when they are passed. One-fourth of the paper is printed in Cherokee type, the remainder in our usual letter. The paper is for the no--English speaking Cherokees. It is I noticed Masonic emblems on the tombstones, and I "Are there really said to my friend, one evening: Masons' and Oddfellows' lodges in this place?" "Have you not already discovered that in all things we are following the footsteps of the whites? Of course we have Masons and Oddfellows, and faithful members they make. Each lodge has a good membership. We have meetings for prayer; we have a Chautauqua Circle, with fifteen sets of books, in a membership of thirty; we have our musical parties, debating societies, and, in fact, about everything you have worth following in the States we are fast imitating." OZONE. WHENEVER it is exposed to the action of electricity, oxygen undergoes a contraction of volume, and acquires very different properties. This change has been shown to consist in an alteration in the atomic structure of the oxygen. Thus, while each molecule of oxygen contains two atoms, there are three atoms in each molecule of ozone. It follows from this that ozone is half as heavy again as oxygen, and it has accordingly been demonstrated that its specific gravity is twenty-four, while that of oxygen is sixteen. Ozone has a very peculiar odor, whence its name (from a Greek word meaning I smell), and this was for many years supposed by chemists to be the smell of electricity, as though the electric force were a substance. Even after the fallacy of this idea was shown, it was many years before the true nature of ozone was understood. Ozone is very readily obtained by subjecting oxygen to the influence of the silent discharge of electricity. By this means part of the oxygen is transformed, but not all of it, for pure ozone has never yet been obtained. Traces of ozone are usually present in the atmosphere, especially in the open country, and there is no doubt that it performs an important part in removing organic impurities from the atmosphere. A limited amount of it in the air is health-giving and stimulating, but an undue proportion of it produces great irritation of the lungs and bronchial tubes. Ozone, by being heated, is again converted into oxygen. Ozone has found uses in chemistry because of its great oxidizing powers, and is employed to form certain compounds as a bleaching agent and as a disinfectant. It is believed that, skillfully and persistently used, it could check the spread of infectious diseases. But no attempt has yet been made to effectively test this power. THE INTELLIGENCE OF BIRDS. DR. CHARLES C. ABBOTT describes some interesting experiments on the intelligence of birds. When he girdled branches on which birds had built their nests, and caused the foliage to shrivel up so that the nests were exposed, the birds abandoned the nests, although they had already laid their eggs. But in a case in which the nests already contained young birds, the old birds remained, notwithstanding the exposure of the nests, until the young ones were able to fly. He placed a number of pieces of woolen yarn - red, yellow, purple, green and gray in color-near a tree in which a pair of Baltimore orioles were building a nest. The pieces of yarn were exactly alike except in color. There was an equal number of each color, and the red and yellow were purposely a very remarkable specimen discovered in Mexico in 1700, which, according to an Indian tradition, fell 200 years before that, during a shower of stones. Its weight is 1,400 pounds. There are 100 specimens in Yale College Museum, one weighing 1,635 pounds. placed on the top. The birds chose only the gray | pounds. The Smithsonian Institute at Washington has pieces, putting in a few purple and blue ones when the nest was nearly finished. Not a red, yellow or green strand was used. Dr. Abbott concludes, from his observations of the building of birds' nests, that the female bird is exacting, obstinate and tyrannical, and not at ail disposed to give in to the wishes of her lord and master. The site of the nest is selected after careful examinations of suitable locations by both birds. WAITING. WHO comes to lead a waiting people on? As of a nation's pulsing heartbeat sent TURNER. Ir is related of Turner that he had once painted a sea-piece, which was hung next Constable's "Waterloo Bridge." Turner's was a gray picture; Constable's glowed with color. Turner, at work on another picture, which he was touching up on "varnishing day," crossed the room with his palette in his hand, and laid a round spot of red lead, about the size of a shilling, in the centre of his gray sea. It took all the brightness and strength out of Constable's work. "Turner has been here," he said to Leslie, who came in at the moment, "and has fired a gun." Before the day was over, Turner had glazed the red patch and shaped it into a buoy. It is only fair to the great landscape painter to give another anecdote of "varnishing day" that leaves quite a different impression on the memory. This year it was 1826-Turner's picture was not gray, but brilliant, and it was hung between two of the president's portraits, to which it did very decided injury. Turner deliberately reduced the glow of his own picture by covering it with a wash of lampblack. "Poor Lawrence was so unhappy," he said; "and it will wash off after the exhibition." METEORIC STONES. During the present century, aerolites have been carefully studied and analyzed, and, indeed, aside from the general outside appearance, by which they are readily recognized by an expert, a chemical analysis is the one sure test by which they can be distinguished in doubtful cases. In many cases they are largely composed of iron, and from one which fell in Mexico a sword-blade was made, which was once in the possession of General Ord, of the United States army, and was by him presented to his son-in-law, General Trevino, of the Mexican army. There is one mass of vitrified iron ore bigger than many public buildings lying half buried on a plain in West Texas, not far from Proctor, Comanche County. It is in all probability an enormous aerolite or meteoric stone which fell there when that plain was covered by the sea. The country around is made up of marine formations filled with sea fossils, and the water which once covered it assisted in preserving what is probably the largest meteorite in the world. This object is unique, being entirely unlike any mineral matter in all the country around. It is not a drift boulder transported by an iceberg, for there never was a block of floating ice that could have moved it to these low latitudes. A forest has grown up around it, and by the people in the country it is considered almost a mountain, so vast is its bulk. In the great forests of Nubia grows a tree, from which, when swayed by the wind, come strange sounds, like the notes of a flute, a fife, or a penny whistle. This vocal tree is regarded with superstitious terror by the natives, and it was indeed a puzzle to every one who has heard the mysterious sounds, until some scientific traveler investigated the matter. He found that at certain seasons of the year hordes of insects deposited their eggs on the young shoots and extremities of the branches. These produced gall-like excrescences about an inch in dia When the young insects emerged, small holes were left in the galls. The wind blowing through these little apertures caused the strange noises. It is proba bly the only instance of a tree which bears ready-made whistles. meter. ACCORDING to the estimate of the Riverside Press ana Horticulturist, based on the school census returns, the population of California is 1,170,298, of which San Francisco has 336,458. The estimate for the State is moderate, but that for the city is higher than the figures usually given. No less than fifteen counties seem to have declined, and Alpine, with only 366 people left, might as well give up the attempt to maintain a county organization. Such gains as that of Los Angeles, from 33,379 to 83,334; San Diego, 8,618 to 21,565; San Bernardino, from 7,786 to 19,806, and Fresno, from 9,478 to 20,283, show some striking increase. METEORITES or meteoric stones have been found in many countries and in all ages. Pliny describes one which he saw, that had fallen in Thrace, 467 B.C., as being as big as a wagon. Among those preserved in museums or elsewhere are the following: One weighing 260 pounds, which fell in Alsace in 1492. It is still preserved in the RAPIDITY OF TREE-GROWTH.-Cultivated in groves, the church at Ensisheim. The largest masses on record average growth in twelve years of several varieties of hard were found about seventeen years ago on the west coast wood has been ascertained to be as follows: White maple of Greenland by the Swedish Arctic Expedition. There reaches 1 foot in diameter and 30 feet in height; ash, is now in the collection of the Royal Academy of Stock- leaf-maple or box-elder, 1 foot in diameter and 20 fect in holm one of them which weighs twenty-five tons; and height; white willow, 18 inches, and 40 feet; yellow wilthe Museum of Copenhagen has another weighing ten low, 18 inches, and 35 feet; Lombardy poplar, 10 inches, tons. In the British Museum is one weighing five tons, and 40 feet; blue and white ash, 10 inches, and 25 feet; and in the museum at St. Petersburg one of 1,635 | black-walnut and butternut, 10 inches, and 20 feet. 66 HE SEIZED HER HAND. 'YOU ARE SACRIFICING YOURSELF TO A ROMANTIC IDEA, OCTAVIE, IN MARRYING ERRALL-IT MUST NOT BE,' HE SAID.' OCTAVIE. Ir was the last bal masqué of the season-just before fashion's votaries said "Good-by" to the fascinations of the opera and ball, and fled to country haunts and ocean beaches. Two genteel loungers who had strolled in to look at the costumes now sat in one of the little alcoves that opened upon the balcony, smoking and chatting over their cigars. "Where do you go?" said Halbert. "To Long Branch. And you ?" "And he ?" Halbert laughed. "He will not be induced to leave America, or the vicinity of New York, this Summer," he said. "He's done for, evidently." "What! you don't mean he is in earnest with the dashing Octavie? I fancied he was not so far gone as that." "I think he cares more for Octavie than he is willing to confess, even to himself. But he is off on a new trail "To Europe, I think. Party of us going; all the club; now. There is a lovely wild rose of a girl been visiting all save Durand." friends of his. She is from Beechville, fifty miles away. Vol. XXV.. No. 2-16. er father has a superb country residence, and she is an nly daughter. He is invited up there for shooting and fishing by her brother. If he goes-farewell, Durand. The wild rose is very fresh and very fair, and her parents know it. They know, too, that Durand is rich as a young Croesus, and wonderfully susceptible for one of his years and experience. I feel sorry for Octavie." "Bah!" sneered the other. "You waste your pity. Women of her style do not need it!" "You do Octavie wrong," said Halbert. "She is grossly misjudged by most people. She is imprudent, rash, even, in her conduct at times, but she is a good girl, with a heart which I believe is deeply touched just now. I believe she loves Durand passionately." "I do not doubt the propriety of the last word you make use of," said his friend, with another sneer, "but I doubt Octavie." "And therein you wrong her. You are used to looking at things and people at extremes-very good or very bad, very proper or very improper. Octavie is a combination or a cross between these. She does improper things sometimes, but is very good at the same time. I believe she would make Durand an exemplary wife." 'You are very lenient in your judgment for a man of as wide experience as yours. "Yes; perhaps so. My very experience makes me lenient. Octavie excites my interest and pity. She always has. An orphan-with money, beauty, dash, spirits, wit, no caution, no adviser-she became a social code to herself. She dressed handsomely, but startlingly; she said witty things; her bon mots became the property of the club-rooms; she attracted men by her dash and sparkle until she acquired the name of a heartless coquette, and when she found hard things were being said of her she grew reckless, and outraged propriety more and more. Yet nobody can lay a finger upon one wrong act in the girl's life, and if Durand would marry her, society would accept her and make the best of it. She is not really dropped, you know-is simply looked on with suspicion. I wish Durand would marry her, but he has not the moral courage. I think he is going off to Beechville to wean himself from her fascinations. He will come back wearing a wild rose as his talisman of safety. My cigar is smoked out. Let us move on. They moved on, and did not see the figure of a woman who had sat just outside on the balcony. She had gone out of the heated ballroom to rest and breathe the pure night-air for a moment with her mask off. She was of fine figure, which was well displayed by her elegant costume. Her rich, bronze hair fell in luxurious freedom over her handsome shoulders, her large brown eyes were full of unshed tears, her beautiful mouth drooped at the corners, her white hands had dropped the mask on her lap, and were clasp.d convulsively upon her bosom. It was Octavie. She had heard all the loungers' conversation. "So he is going to Beechville," she said; "and to her! We will see.' She picked up and adjusted her mask, drew her mantle over her shoulders, and glided back among the dancers. She was the observed of all observers-her grace, her elegance, her matchless dancing! The masked and the unmasked fashionable lookers-on were eager to see her face, but when the hour for unmasking arrived she had gone. Two weeks later, a tall young fellow, in a linen ulster and straw hat, left his baggage to follow him, and, with a careless glance at the group of loungers about the little station, started 'cross lots for the hotel, half a mile distant on the Lake Shore, at Beechville. 66 "Glad ?-why, yes, of course! Always glad to see you, you know, only it's so deuced sudden and unexpected! Called to see you last week in town, and was told you had gone into the country. Thought it queer you did'nt say anything about it last time I saw you." "Oh, it was very sudden !" smiled Octavie. "I was talking with Mrs. Allen-Mrs. Hugh Allen, you know !— about Summer resorts, and chanced to mention Beechville as a nice, quiet, free place, where one could have plenty of air and exercise, and not be obliged to dress to death. She seized at it immediately. Said she was here once a few weeks, and she made up a party of six of us in less time then I can tell you, and we came the next day. Have been here a week. Heard you were coming last night." "Who told you ?" queried Durand, as he lifted his hat and ran his slender, white fingers once or twice through his crisp hair. He was up at We were all "Who?-oh, Mr. Errall-Hugh Errall. the hotel, and said he expected you daily. so surprised and pleased." "Then you have met Errall ?” "Yes, and his sister came to call upon us to-day! Such a lovely girl-pink-and-white! We all thought her very pretty, and she and I struck up quite a friendship. I am invited there to spend the day soon." A half-shadow crossed the face of Durand. He could not have told why, but he did not like the idea of these two women being friends. It seemed so incongruous! Sylvia Errall and Octavie! Tra! "I am keeping you in the hot sun," she said, "when you want to get to your room and a bath, I know. la! I will see you later!" "She touched her horse, and was gone, with a bright, backward smile and glance, and Durand walked on at a swifter pace. "So, after all, I am to be under the same roof with Octavie," he mused; "instead of running away from her, I have run to her, and I'll be deuced if I know whether I am glad or sorry. She holds a wonderful fascination for me, but I doubt if it's the sort of feeling a man ought to have for the woman he makes his wife." Yet, when Errall came up that night, explaining his unavoidable absence from Beechville at train-time, and asking Durand to remove his baggage to the handsome residence across the lake, Durand declined. "Thanks!" he said; "but I will make my headquarters here, old fellow! All my traps for hunting and fishing and riding fill up lots of space, and would be no end of |