THE FARMER.

Pruning Trees. Deciduous trees, or those which lose their leaves during cold weather, ought to be pruned before the sap begins to rise. If pruned afterwards they will “ bleed ’ — that is, the sap will exude from the wound. Where there are many trees to be pruned, a selection should be made, taking those first which break out into bud earliest. First, perhaps, would be the almond; then the peach ; then the cherry. Last of all would be the mulbeny, which is so chary of putting forth its green mantle that it is said there can be no frost after the mul berry is in leaf. Every book upon prim ing, nearly, gives a different rule ; per haps the safest rule is to cut no more than is necessary to keep the centre of the tree moderately open to allow enough of branches to shelter the stem in this hut climate, and to leave Nature to do the rest. As a rule trees are planted 100 closely together, and when the branches interlace, there is not enough play of air amongst the leaves in summer time. The ground beneath, if any way damp, is teaming with heat, and no doubt much injury results. Eighteen to twenty feet, at least, ought to separate each tree from its neighbor, and in pruning, if trees are closer than this, it would be advisable to prune off’ each second tree root and branch. There are always branches which are barren, and these may be cut out, as well as those which, by growing across the centre are liable to crowd it. Some of the old gardeners recommend severe cutting ,‘back on every branch—shortening them —whilst some of the new lights say we should not prune at all. : A medium •course is most likely to be correct, except with some kinds of vines, which must be pruned close to the stock to ensure plenty of new wood. A Queer 10-Acre Field. An American paper says;—“ln Colorado there is a 10-acre field which is no more nor less than a subterranean lake covered with soil about 18 inches deep. On the soil is cultivated a field of corn, which produces 30 or 40 bushels to the acre. If any one will take the trouble to dig a hole the depth of a spade-handle, he will find it fill with water, and by using a hook and line fish four or five inches long can be caught. The fish have neither scales nor eyes, and are perch-like in shape. The ground is a black marl in its nature, and in all probability was at one time an open body of water, on which has ac cumulated vegetable matter, which has increased from time to time until now it has a crust sufficiently strong and rich to produce fine com, though it has to be cul' tivated by hand, as it is not strong enough to bear the weight of a horse. While har- Wiy: . the field hands catch great strings of fisß&y punching a hole in the earth. A person rising on his heel and coming down suddenly can see the growing corn shake all round him. Any one having the strength to drive a rail through the crust will find, on releasing it, that it will disappear altogether. The whole section of country surrounding this field gives evidence of marshiness, and the least rain produces an abundance of mud. But the question comes up. Has not this body an outlet ? Although brakish the water tastes . as if fresh, and is evidently not stagnant. Yet these fish are eyeless and scaleless, similar to those found in caves. ”

FARMING NOTES.

Trees have no business in a fanner’s vegetable garden; that is to say, a tree there is a weed and a nuisance, however valuable in its proper place. The fruit garden is itself no less important or valu able than the vegetable garden, but the two do not go well together. A strawberry, to give the best satisfac tion, should be left on the vines until fully ripe, and picked but an hour or two before eaten, and always picked so as to leave the hulls on the vines, as a straw berry of the tender-fleshed varieties, when fully ripe, cannot be hulled after being taken from the vines without injuring the berries. It was not until the beginning of the present century [that stalks of rhubarb became an article of commercial import ance in the London and other vegetable markets in the kingdom. About 1810, Mr Myatt, of Deptford, we are told, sent two of his sons to the Borough Market with five bunches of rhubarb stalks, of which they sold only three, people not liking what they called “physic pies.” Notwithstanding, Myatt continued its cul tivation. As he predicted, tt soon became a favorite, and now hundreds of tons’ weight of rhubarb are sold in Covent Garden in the course of the year, and what amount in other markets all over the country it is impossible to calculate.

CORRESPONDENCE

We do not hold ourselves responsible for the opinions expressed by our correspondents. To the Editor. Sir, —I noticed in your commercial article in a recent issue some very good suggestions as to the West Coast trade, and the amount of business done by Mel bourne firms with the merchants of Grey mouth, Hokitika, and Westport in an article which the farming districts of our own colony should certainly be able to supply, viz., chaff for horse feed. This is no new thing, for the chaff trade, like a good many more things, has been almost a mdhopoly for the Victorians for many years past. Although it seems strange that Canterbury farmers and ship owners cannot compete with Victorians, but such is the case, and the reason why is one which does not require much search to ex plain. The Melbourne chaffcutters do their work in a very much superior fashion to our local ones. More attention is paid to saving the straw, and the packing and baling is performed in a neat and conven ient form, and the chaff is cut into very short lengths so that there is abso lutely no waste in feeding horses. More than this the owners of the Melbourne vessels Lading to the Coast cany chaff at less than half the rates charged hence, so that with a superior article, at as low ' . a price there is little to wonder at why jSi|eatnsters should prefer the foreign article. It is very much to be regi etted that our farmers do not again try to make a market for themselves in this direction, as the quantity used on the Coast is very large,

and I am confident if a good article was exported that a profitable trade could be opened up. 1 am, Ac., West Coahtek.

Abolition of Imprisonment for Debt Bill.

The Imprisonment fox* Debt Abolition Bill, introduced by Mr Hutchison, M.H.R. for Wellington, was under discussion on Tuesday by the House of Representatives. The following are its provisions ; 1. The short title of this Act is “ The Abolition for Imprisonment for Debt Act, 1879.” 2. This Act shall come into operation on the first day of January, one thousand eight hundred and eighty, from which date the Imprisonment for Debt Abolition Act, 1874, and the Imprisonment for Debt Abolition Act Amendment Act, 1875, shall be repealed. 3. Henceforth no person shall he Im prisoned for debt. . 4. The following shall be deemed indict able offences punishable by fine or by im prisonment, with or without hard labor, for any term not exceeding 12 months: (1.) Any person who, with intent to defraud, shall by any device or promise induce credit to be given. (2.) Any person who, by any false representation or by any conceal ment of property which might be taken in execution, shall have pre vented or delayed the execution of any distress warrant or writ of fieri facias issued by any Court of competent jurisdiction upon a judg ment available against such person. (3.) Any person who shall have made default in payment of any sum or sums of money made in a fiduciary or professional capacity, and which shall have been ordered to be paid by a Court of competent jurisdic tion.

The Bill has apparently one great fault, namely, it has omitted to provide for the punishment of persons who, having the means to pay their debts, refuse to do so. It not unfrequently occurs that persons wilfully remain in e’ebt when they are possessed of sufficient means to clear off what they owe, and it is for the benefit and protection of the creditors of such that the judgment summons is issued, and by no other means can debtors of this charac ter be touched. It is absolutely necessary that some protection of this kind must be given to tradesmen if credit is to be given at all.

A Providential Escape.

It was in the summer of 1825 that a party of some thirty children, ranging in age from five to ten years, were return ing to dinner from the District School, some fourteen miles west of Cincinnati, Ohio, United States, when one of those sudden thunder storms, art frequent during the hot season in that part of the world, burst on them. The school-house w as situated in the midst of a piece of waste land known as “ The School Common,” and before the children had cleared the common they were nearly wet through, and the terrific lightning and reverberating thunder were quite enough to appal older and stouter hearts, and they had still another quarter of a mile ere they could reach the village. Although the common itself could boast of neither tree nor shrub, yet just at its edge stood one of those gigantic oaks which the settlers’ axe had spared. Beneath its branches the whole party could easily find shelter, and although the storm had been ragiug five minutes, its foliage was so dense that the ground underneath was quite dry. “ Let us get under the oak,” said one little panting mortal. ‘ ‘ Ay, ay ! ” was echoed and re-echoed by several; whilst all as quickly as possible put the resolution into practice. Just then one one little suddenly said, “ We ought not to stay here. I’ve heard of lightning strik ing trees, and killing any one who happened to be under.” And at last she persuaded them to face the storm once more, nor did they stop again till they had reached the village, where they took refuge. The storm, furious in its charac ter, soon spent itself ; and an hour and a half after, several of the same little people, well fed, and attired in dry clothing, were again making their way to the school, when suddenly, with blanched cheeks, they saw the old oak which had withstood the storms of cen turies, still standing certainly, but with several of its branches torn off, others broken and hanging loose, and its huge trunk scorched as though a fire had been kindled all around it. The tree had been struck by lightning. The news of the narrow escape was soon known, and feelings of admiration for the presence of mind displayed by the little girl were mingled with thankfulness for the narrow escape which she and her companions had made. Perhaps the story may teach those who are unaware of the danger, to avoid the shelter of solitary trees during a thunderstorm. Nothing can he more hazardous, a fact which the death rates by lightning thus attracted show.—“ Cham bers’s Journal.”

A man was lately brought up for murder in a London police court, who had stabbed a man in the leg with a clasp knife be cause he stood in front of him in a theatre. The wound necessitated amputation, and the man died from the operation. A Half Clad Plea. —ln Wellington on Monday a picture shop proprietor was sued by a shopman for wages, and, in defence, pleaded that he had been doing but little business, and that little was almost ruined by the shopman putting the “ counterfeit persentment ” of the Victoria Loftus Troupe in the shop window ! This plea did not move Mr Manaford to compassionate the defen dant, who was promptly mulcted in the full amount of the claim. Forgetting Himsf.i.f. —The “ New Zealand Times ” thus rubs up Mr Hutchi son's Parliamentary etiquette :Mr Hutchison, one of the members for Wel lington City, has been sufficiently long in Parliament to know that the rules forbid a member from walking about the floor of the House with his hat on. Should he repeat the disrespect, intentionally or un intentionally, he will probably be called to order by the Speaker.

A Viaduct over the English Channel.

A Homo correspondent to a Southern paper writes: These are days of wonders, and electri cians and engineers are the conjurors. To most people the idea of throwing a viaduct over the English Channel would appear utterly visionary, >et it is one seriously and scientifically put forward. Sir John Hawkshaw has his scheme cf tunnelling under the Channel, and it is straightway voted a chimera. Nevertheless, work has beenqnietlygoiugon,andalthough nothing has yet been attempted towards the tunnel itself, shafts have been sunk, borings made, and a vast amount of money spent, but not wasted, in obtaining valuable pre liminary information. The result has been to prove that in all human probabi lity the project is perfectly feasible, and the only difficulty is the money. The engineer’s estimate, which I happen to have have seen, puts the cost at some twelve round millions. This of course means half as much again in reality, and people are chary of investing money in a scheme which cannot be absolutely certain of success, and at the best can yield nothing for 20 years. Now conies forward M. de Sainte Anne, an eminent French engineer, and in place of the tunnel pro poses a huge aerial viaduct from Folk stone to the Cape Grisnez, embracing also the construction of a port of refuge in mid channel. A stupendous and prodigious project ! And this is the outline of M, de Sainte Anne’s conception. About half way between Grisnez and Folkstone, that is, nine miles from the first and 12 from the second; is the large and dangerous Varne Rock, about two and a-half miles broad. It lies in a direct line of the proposed viaduct, and here would be constructed a large abutment pier. Hard by is the Calbart reef, and by founding a break-water upon this and part of the rock, a harbor of refuge would re place a great channel of danger. For the rest, solid piers would be raised upon huge and widely-spread foundations of rocks cast into the sea and consolidated by Roman cement. Distances of over 350 to 400 feet would separate these immense towers of masonry, rising some 120 feet above the level of the sea, and leaving space for the tallest sparred ship to pass beneath the super structure. This would be of steel, after the design of the most successful girder-constructions known to practice. At either end of the viaduct, and on "Varne rock, the girder system would be replaced by Cyclopean arches of massive stone, of a span and height never yet essayed. Across the deepest water would stretch a vast tubular bridge, such asStephenson built over the Menai Straits, and the New York engineers from their city to Brooklyn. The magnificence and immensity of this Titanic conception speak for themselves, but we are naively told that the details are not yet decided upon. It is quite possible that even if M. de Srinte Aune succeeds in finding foundations for his piers, which many engineers doubt, and rears his solid towers of masonry, the con struction of the platform, which will have to resist the terrible lateral strains of a channel tempest and accommodate itself to the varying expansions of summer and winter, may baffle him. The distance between the piers, too, seem small for the large vessels of to-day safely to pass through. It is premature, however, and ungracious to suggest such objections. The mind prefers rather to dwell on the imaginary spectacle of the viaduct con structed and complete, majestically span ning the channel, with the commerce laden argosies of the world passing and repassing beneath its aerial platform, and guided on their way by myriads of re fulgent electric lights, shedding their beams upon the stormy waters of the channel from each massive pier ; of the knitting together in the bonds of friend ship between France and England, by the inhabitants of Grisnez and Folkstone walk ing over to have a friendly gossip with one another, and a cup of tea, or something stronger, at the refreshment bars which, it is to be hoped, are included in the pro ject, and which would immediately be taken in hand by the indefatigable Spiers and Pond, and their eminently respect able young women. And yet M. de Sainte Aune is neither a madman nor a dreamer ; he is a very eminent French engineer, who in all sober earnestness brings his long-pondered plans before the world, and undertakes to ex ecute them at once. For a million francs he estimates he can obtain all the neces sary preliminary knowledge, test-models, and so on : for three hundred millions, or twelve millions sterling, he will build the viaduct. The Chambers of Commerce of France and Belgium, to the number of nearly 100 cordially support him : he has the countenance of his Government, and he is now on his way to England to obtain that of ours, and to dazzle the imaginations of English capitalists into parting with their money for the furtherance of his gigantic scheme. So that it may be that even the men and women of this genera tion will baulk the sea of its horrors, and from the secure elevation of 120 feet laugh at the sufferers on steamers below. The Macaulay of the future, disdaining so trite and paltry a conception. as the New Zealander on a moss-grown pier of London Bridge, will set the unambitious Zulu, in glowing periods, upon a seaweed-covered tower of the Channel viaduct; and last, hut not least, some New Zealand genius will throw a counterpart over Cook’s Strait from Cape Terawhiti to the Nelson shore.

An ironfounder named Denny has arrived in Melbourne with a new gold extractor, which miners predict will re volutionise gold raining on fields thought to be worked out, and enable fortunes to be realised from them. The newly foimed New Zealand Agri cultural Company advertises in the London papers that the Company is prepared to arrange with a limited number of farmers and their families, to proceed at once to New Zealand, to settle on the Company’s estates. Freak of Nature. —A “ lusus natime” in the shape of a foal with a calf’s head and feet, was (says the Hamilton Spec tator) born on a farm near Byaduk, lately. With the exception of the head and feet, all other portions of the body resembled those of a horse. Its mother was a fine mare. Mr Christie, who supplied the information, says he ne.er saw any tiling like it, nor do we suppose anybody else ever did, and had it not been stillborn, it would have been worth hundreds of podnds to a show man.

Sodom and Gomorrah.

The Nile is a sacred river, and the Tiber s is famous, but the most sacred and most ! famous river of the world is the Jordan. From its beginning to its end it has that mystical character which befits such lofty pretensions ; its life is the mo it- vivid and complete, and its death the most sudden and mysterious that can he imagined. It is torrential, and it leaves the flanks of Hermou and the many fountains of its tributaries with an eager precipitation, as if it bore a mission. From its greatest height, some hundred feet above the sea level, it leaps downwards till it disappears in the Dead Sea, some 1,300 ft. below it. It hides itself among oleander, tamarisk, and willow, and many an unfamiliar Oriental tree, as if wishing to keep from profane eyes the secret of its errand. It does not stop long to overflow its banks and fertilise the valley ; for it has a pur pose t<>o mystical to waste itself even among acta of beneficence. It is only to become a living barrier between (fie desert tribes and the favored nation which loved it. No boat lives on its bosom. No fishermen dwell by its margin ; hut it moves one headlong column of sacred waters from its cradle of snow and cloud, high in the heavens, till it dies in a fatal lake marked by the finger of God, and for ever a subject for man’s curiosity and re verance. It would seem a thing apart, and not to he confounded with vulgar waters, which lose their personality in the bosom of the mighty sea, but exhailng to heaven like some holy messenger who perished in the fulfilment of his duty. Its birth and its death alike separate it from its sister rivers on earth, and only the voiceless mounds of perished and nameless cities, tribes stationary as if bid den halt by some supremo destiny of the past, or the awed and questioning stranger from the many Christian lands whose baptism drew its authority from the first sprinkling of its waters, are seen upon its banks. And then we wandered through many whispering reeds, through a kind of jungle where sterility and the river had fought for mastery, and which showed traces of both ; a tangle of bushes as it were fighting their way up, .and great spaces of barrenness which the summer would scorch to lifelessncss. And at last the Dead Sea. Though we know that it is of volcanic origin, and fed by mines of salt, the imagination now, as ever, is con tent to see in it a thing accursed. There was a fresh breeze ; and U reluctant lift and heavy tumblers of its tiny breakers made them unlike other waves, but rather like those of Dante’s infernal sea. There was a breath heavy with doom in the air, and we are fortunate that it was not more stifling. Was it the breath of those lost or tortured there ? And beneath that saline sheet did we not see, as in the picture of Delacroix, the agonising and twisted figures of the condemned ! We did not bathe in the Dead Sea. Others have done so, and report of its buoyancy the same tales that are told of the Ameri can Salt Lake. There is a whimsical coin cidence in the geographical relation of the Dead Seaahd the home of the earlier pro phets and Brigham Young’s personal con tinuation of the old dispensation, with a private Dead sea of his own in his imme diate neighborhood. The poorest swimmer keeps his head above water, and persons have said to me that their legs seemed to fly up from under them. All speak of its waters as refreshing after the great heat of that tropical valley. Birds are said never to fly over it, which is the merest superstition, for they are really often seen do so. This lake certainly has a brand upon it, as of Divine vengeance. The waters are heavy with sin, the shores around blasted, and the very site of de stroyed cities upon its banks unknown. And here are still seen the apples of Sodom, smooth and pretty to the eye and touch ; of a pale yellow, like a small orange ; but within, as Josephus says, still retaining ashes of Sodom in living per petuity of the Divine punishment. They are like little oranges to the eye and touch, but when pressed are like oak apples, and explode like these, a puff of air leaving the shell hollow, with only a slender pouch holding fine filaments like silk, which the Arabs use as matches for their guns.—From “Syrian Sunshine,” by T. G, Appleton.

A WONDERFUL MAN-OF-WAR.

The torpedo ram Polyphemus, now being constructed in Chatham Dockyard, appears likely to be the most extraor dinary ship that has yet been built. She is novel and peculiar alike in form, structure, fittings, and arrangement of armour protection, while her weapons of attack are such as will, necessitate her being fought differently from any other war-ship. Her design was described by the late Mr Ward Hunt, in the House of Commons on the 12th of March, 1877, as being “of a kind as yet unknown in any part of the world, but which has been much talked about, and has been at last forced upon me by the gallant officer who stands at the head of the veteran list of the navy—viz., Sir Georger Sartorious, who has shown that although his age is great, his mind is still youthful, and that he is willing to receive new ideas, and able to inculcate them.” The leading features of the Polyphemus are a strong ram bow, a powerful torpedo battery, oreat speed and handiness, moderate size, and a small extent of surface above water exposed to the enemy’s tire, such portion of the vessel as is above the water-line being convex in form, so as to deflect any projectile that may strike it. The appearance she will present when at sea will be that of a cylinder, floating on its side, and deeply immersed, which is tapered at the ends to form a bow and stern. The topi of the cylinder will be 4 feet 6 inches above the water-line, and will be flattened over a large portion of its area to form a deck. The whole of this flattened cylindrical surface will be plated over with steel armour, and will cover in and protect the ship and all her machinery and fighting appliances. The ship proper as she will thus appear will be surmounted by a light sti ucture, carrying a hurricane deck of about two-thirds her length, and upon this deck will be seen a signal mast, funnel, pilot tower, boats, and other fittings. Under water the form of the Polyphemus is as as it will appear above. ’l l e cylindrical curvature of tlm sides is air ed down several feet below the water-line, and armour-plated to that depth. Below this point the section assumes a Y form, and

cuds in a sharp angle at the kc iel. It will therefore be seen that a col iplete cross section of the vessel is very similar to that of a peg-top. The llattc ned convex curvature of the upper part would rep resent the part of the Polyph Jmus that is above water, ami the lowi ir portion, which ends in a point, would also repre sent the part of the ship tl lat is below water. If the peg-top be i tnagined to float in water at a depth beloi V where its breadth is greatest, and ■ vhere the section thus begins to curve t owards the centre line, a rough idea may be obtained both of the form and proport; ons of the above and under water pa rts of the Polyphemus. The Polyphe nus is 240 feet long between perpendicul irs, 40 feet in extreme breadth, and will 1 lave a load draught of 20 feet. Her d isplacement will be 2640 tons. The conve x armoured deck will be 4 feet 0 inches above the water-line, and will be completely plated over with steel armour 3 in. dies thick. This armour will be carried to a depth of 6 feet to 7 feet below the water lino. The Polyphemus will not be fitted with masts or sails, but Will cany a pi >le for sig nalling purposes, and for i aaking ob servations from. She will b' ) propelled by twin screws, and will have two pairs of high-pressure compound horizontal engines, which are being cons tructed by Messrs Humphreys and Tt nnant, of Deptford. Each high-pressu. :e cylinder will be 38 inches in diametei and the low pressure 64 inches. The . stroke will be 45 inches. The boilers will be of the locomotive type, 12 in nu nbor, and will be made of steel. They will work up to a pressure of 1101 fis ' per square inch. It is estimated that, t: le engines will indicate a collective powc r of 5500 horses, and that the speed of th e ship will be 17 knots. The only oftensh 'e weapons the Polyphemus will posse as are a powerful ram bow and Whitehead torpedoes. She will have m 0 guns at all, except a few light shell guns and Gatlings on the hurricane dec :k for the purpose of repelling boat o; r torpedo attacks.—“ Times.”

AN EXTRAORDINARY CAREER.

Concerning a man named Jol m Harris, who has been committed for tria lat Ash ford for stealing three sheep and two lambs, the “ Maidstone Jour lal” says facts have come to light which seem to show that he has for two or tb .ree years been pursuing a criminal career with sur prising impunity, and a boldnes 9to some extent rivalling that of the notorious Peace. Harris is about 27 yeai sof age, and is a native of Midley, in Romney Marsh, where his parents occupied respectable positions. Some yei irs ago he entered the army, and deserted from the Royal Horse Artillery in 18 73. He was “ gazetted,” but he came ba -ck to the part of Kent of which he was a native notwithstanding, and escaped < ietection. On the police searching his hot ise, they found a photograph of the prisoi ier in the uniform of ids regiment, and am; pie other evidence to show that he was a deserter. The house in the Whitfield Roai i. South Ashford, contained a misc allaneous collection of property, for the p ossession of which Harris gives accounts ( )f a cer tain character, stating that he ha s “found them, &c. He has given tl le police authority to restore any articlei !to such persons as can identify them. T hey com prise a large number of too' b, rugs, measures, whips, bridles, blank ets, &c. A large chimney glass in the fre >nt room is not stated to have been - ‘ ’found,” although there is a mystery ci annected with it, as is the case with the no w sewing machine disposed of by the pi dsoner a

short time since. On the i light of August 24, 1877, a valuable (. iow was stolen from the premises of Mr 1 Chap lin, farmer, Mersham. The i ow was traced as having been driven ac; ,’oss the country in the night, and sold at Canter bury market the next day by : i person auswering the prisoner’s clescript ion, and there seems to be no doubt he is ;he same man. The cow was killed by a butcher at Canterbury, and the skin sen tto the Dover tanyard, where it was fi jund by the police. On the night of Oct< >bor 27, 1877, a pony was stolen fri >m the premises of Mr John Butler, farmer, Shadoxhurst. This pony made its ap pearance at the entrance of Cai iterbury market on the following mornii ig, and mounted on it was the same man as had brought Mr Chaplin's cow there on the previous August. The toll collector recognized him, and asked, “H ave you seen the police about that ( ;ow you brought here I They say there w as some thing wrong about it.” Ti le man answered, ‘ l l liavu’t heard tl iat they thought there were anything a bout it; perhaps I had better go and a ea them before I bring this pony in. ” ' The toll collector replied that he thought the man had better see the police, am i he ac cordingly rode off on the pony, but in stead of going to the police stat ion, be fore he got far he sold the ponj ’ in the street to a dealer named Willia; n Sayer for £5, gave Sayer a receipt for the money in the name of George Woollet, and no more was seen of him. <Jn July 10, 1878, a man answering the s. une dis cription was known to have stolei i a horse belonging to Mr Wood, of . Ashford. Strange to say, although the re were handbills in circulation offering rewards for the apprehension of the pei .’petrator of those robberies, the prisor ier con tinued to live in the locality win >re they were committed without being ta ken into custody. He occasionally sold .sheep, and sometimes a cow or a pig, an d passed for a small cattle dealer, although it is not known that he made any purchases ? Only a few weeks since it is said that he sold a cow and calf in Rye marki it Be fore the magistrate on Friday he re- ! peatedly grinned when wlines sen said ' they had not seen him subset]c.onitly to ! their noticing him in possession .of Mr 1 Wood’s horse, and he reminded one or ♦wo of them of occasions when they had J met since. •

A Round Touk.—With sucl grand mountain, river and lake scenery as we have, almost at our doors, it is surprising (says the Melbourne “ Daily Telegraph ”) to think how little we Australians have hitherto explored it. An opportunity now, however, is afforded by means of a tour, of which we have the prospectus, which embodies a fifty days’ visit to Tas mania, New Zealand (including tlu sounds of the West Coast and the mountain and lake territory of the interior), and New South Wales,

A VISIT TO MISS BRADDON.

A Californian lady, who has been pay ing a visit to Miss Braddon, the novelist, at her English home, writes to the San Francisco “ Chronicle ” the subjoined interesting account of her interview : Miss Braddon is the daughter of a surgeon, E. A. Braddon, now deceased, and the wife of John Maxwell, publisher of the popular English Magazine “Belgravia.” One day in June, witn tne sun streaming down i: ud dispersing the thick fog which seems • o hang around London like a dis mal shroud. I crossed the Victoria bridge and took che train for Richmond, a ride of about half an hour through a lovely country, passing gentlemen’s villas and beautifully laid out grounds, which line almost the whole road on either side. On alighting from the train at the station i was met by an elegant gentleman, who proved to be young Mr Maxwell. He asked mo which I preferred, walking along by the lawn to the house, or going through an alley of trees ? “ Walking I ” said X. “ Vcs ; this is Litchfield House,” pointing directly ahead at an enclosure about fifty yards fr mi the suition. “ Then let us walk, by all means,” I said, and we pro ceeded along the most beautiful lawa, close shawn, as all English lawns are. Shrubs ami rare old trees, ornamental vases, and bore and there parterre upon parterre of the most brilliaut-hued flowers mot my gaze. The various similes of green under the wide-spreading trees, as the sun shone through the loaves, was a sight which would arrest the attention of any one. When about half way along the path 1 noticed coming towards us a tall, portly man, the true type of an English gentleman. He came up to us, and my companion introduced me, saying, “ This is my father, Mr Maxwell. ” I shall not try to describe him, except as a hearty, whole souled gentleman, who welcomed me with both hands, imparting a feeling of pleasure which far exceeded the more polite wel come generally extended to strangers. The different aspects of the place were pointed out to me while going towards the house, and a more beautiful place it has rarely boon my pleasure to see. Litchfield

■ House is a mansion of the Elizabethan ) style modernised—roses clambering on the . walls, over the verandahs, along the sides > of the windows, and in fact wherever there is room for a rose to bloom. No words 1 can describe the gay appearance the roses gave to the very grey house and old ! spacious windows. All looked so bright, , so cheerful, and inviting tliat, with the kindness with which Mr Maxwell had welcomed me, I felt in the best of humors. But what can I say in praise of the very warm manner I was received by the great authoress herself ? I lost sight of all her fame at the very womanly and unaffected manner of my reception. Standing in, or rather leaning against the door, was Miss Braddon, a tall lady, somewhat thin, attired in a ricli black silk dress, with white lace round her throat. A coquettish Dolly Varden cap completed her toilet. What an expressive face is hers ! Grey eyes, sparkling with fun, bright and well opened. lam sure nothing escapes her gaze. But the charm of her whole being

is the thorough, home-like cordiality and unalfectedness of the woman. I was asked into the house, escorted to her own apart ment and with her own hands she assisted in divesting me of my outer wraps. Her kin< ness of manner so attracted me that any trepidation that I might have felt in the presence of so famous a personage van ished. I suppose the very unfamiliarity of hearing her addressed as Mrs Maxwell made me forget to whom I was indebted for so much kindness. After many ques tions about California, I said to her : “Mrs Maxwell, I know you so well through your hooks you must let me call you by the name I am most familiar with—Miss Braddon. ” “ Certainly,” she said, ‘ I fre quently have callers on business who never think of addressing mo by any oilier than the name which you prefer ; so you see it will not sound at all strange to mo.” We then went together to the draw ing-room, where we were met by several other guests who had arrived in the mean time. The drawing-room is on tho east side of the house and contains two large windows—one opening on the lawn, the other on the walk which approaches the front of the house on the oast side of the room. There is a bay window forming an

alcove the whole length of the room, over looking the magnificent grounds laid out in terraces, and belonging to the famous Star and Garter Inn. The ceiling is frescoed in the modern Italian style, and the oak carvings of the wall, windows, and mantelpieces are very old and very rare. The walls are literally covered with paint ings in oil and water colors, most of them genre subjects, which Mins Braddon assures mo were her peculiar fancy. Some of the furniture is old and quaintly carved,

and some rich and of modern design. As in all English households there was a cheerful blaze in the fireplace, although the sun shone warm and pleasantly out side. The sons and daughters all look towards the authoress as the mother who makes the home for her family. Lunch was announced and I was placed on Mr Maxwell’s right. The table looked tempt ing enough to brighten the veriest malcon tent. Mr and Mrs Maxwell have several little children, and the youngest is a boy about four years old. All took their places at the board. The conversation was chatty and lively. The talk was upon or dinary subjects. Among the topics, of course, California was mentioned. Miss Braddon expressed herself favorably re garding our Golden State, as she termed it, and expressed a desire, if it were pos sible, to visit it, as well as other parts of the United States. She was attracted most, however, to the Yosemile. She assured me that she had at one time been more deeply interested in California, as she had intended to write a novel in which some scenes of California life were to have been laid. In my honor a bottle of sparkling Moselle was opened, re markable for its ago, having been

in the cellar twenty years. We drank to the good health of our host and hostess. Miss Braddon kindly thanked me, and responded by wishing success to California and Californians. We discussed our mutual friends, and then, as is the cus tom in England, the ladies, at a sign from the hostess, left the gentlemen to their after dinner cigar, and wo entered the drawing room. What most charmed me with Miss Braddon was her entire freedom from affectation. tier works were not once alluded to by herself. .my ques tions were asked rrgardii-- . • ■ 'rings she answered in a plain, ..... . L ,..:.... ward

manner. I said : “ Miss Braddon, will you allow me to ask, you about your books ?” “ Why, certainly,” said she, “if that will interest you.” I asked her what part of the day most of her literary work was done in. “At any time,” she answered, “ but I find my brain clearer in early morning. I rise at seven o’clock, walk in the grounds for half an hour, then write for an hour ; by that time I generally feel ready for a good hearty breakfast. During the Jay, if an oppor tunity occurs, or if I feel in the humor, X write, never longer than an hour, or two at the very most. lam like a great many people, and do not like to commence, although I have thought out my work beforehand. However, I find when I set myself down to real work that my thoughts find vent, and my pen will not write fast enough.” “Does it-not tire you 1” No, I never tire of writing At one time, when I first began, I did not know what I was going to say, but now I learn that, like everything else, thoughts will be more completely expressed by having one’s plan perfected beforehand.” Can you foresee your strongest chapters?” “I seem to know which they will be, and find when I get into the story deeper that I am far more interested in my character then any of my readers can ever be. For the time I see them, hear them ■speak, and not the manner in which they express themselves. In fact, to me they ai'e living, breathing personages, my iamiliar spirits. i{ JBLow do you plan tlm end I ’ “ This seems always the most difficult part of them. Ido not plan them. I follow up my story as if X were reading some one else’s writing. The characters and the manner in which they have figured lead me to the end ; and indeed 1 feci a real regret at being com pelled to part with them. ” “ What a pity you let ‘ Cynthia’ die,” said I; “she was a character I admired so much.” “ How could I help it ? She was just meant for that ending. How could Joshua Haggard himself have been brought to confess the murder, except through the sorrow of losing her?’ “You never write stories after the French fashion ?” “No,” was too repry. “ I am an Englishwoman and write about women whose tpye I see around me every day.” One after another the rest of her books were dis cussed, until tea was announced. Again we entered the dining-room, and I felt that the time was approaching when I must say adieu., I .asked Miss Braddon which one of her books she considered the best, and was answered, “My earliest one, The Trail of the Serpent,’ .as recently revised.” I thanked her for the cordial manner and patience with which, she had answered ray many questions, ’"I and with sincere regret on my side we parted that evening, and I felt that never had I been so agreeably entertained as on that one day X spent with Miss Braddon.

How to Cook a Husband.

The first thing to be done is to catch him. Having done so, the mode of cook ing him so as to make a good dish is as follows .-—Many a good husband is spoiled in the cooking. Some women keep them constantly in hot water, while others freeze them with conjugal coldness ; some smother them with hatred and contention, and still others keep them in pickle all their lives. These women always serve them up with, tongue sauce. Now, it is not to be supposed that husbands will bo tender and good if treated in this way ; but they are, on the contrary, very de licious when managed as follows :—Get a largo jar, called the jar of , carefulness (which all good houswives have on hand); place your husband in it, and place him near the fire of conjugal love ; let the fire be pretty hot ; especially let it be clear ; above all, let the heat be constant ; cover him over with affection ; garnish him over with the spice of pleasantry,'and if you add kisses and other confections, let them be accompanied with a sufficient portion of secrecy, mixed with prudence and moderation.

A Masked Ball. —A masked ball, which borught out a considerable number of quaintly dressed people, was a rather successful affair in Wellington last Mon day night. A Walking Match. —Mr J. L. Wilt shire, of Marton, has challenged Mr W. Delaney to walk from Wanganui to Pal merston, via Marton, back the same way and then finishing at Marton; stakes to be from £SO to £IOO aside. Delaney prefers finishing at Wanganui, that being now his head quarters, and answers the j challenge by offering to walk from Foxton to Wanganui, stakes to be £IOO aside. The Skylark From Home. —A corres pondent at Clive brings under notice of the “Hawke’s Bay Herald” a singular de parture in the habit of the skylark, when imported into this colony, from what are its attributes at home. “ Here,” he says, “ these birds are to be seen pour ing out their souls in melody—not as at home, high up in the heavens, but upon the fences near the ground. I have seen many of them between Clive and Hav elock, perched almost at my hand, and have been much struck with this change in their habit. Probably it is occasioned by being cooped up in cages during the voyage out. At all events, whatever is the cause the fact remains, and I think it sufficiently remarkable to call for in investigation. ”

Horrible Suspicion. —The special cor respondent of the “ Lyttelton Times” does well to open his latest Wellington gossip from the “ gallery and about the lobbies" with a statement that he has been the oc cupant of a sick chamber. The assurance somewhat smoothes down the reader's hair, which might otherwise stand on end after reading the special’s closing para graph as follows ;—A horrible rumor is being circulated respecting the disappear ance of a man formerly residing not a hundred miles from Wellington, and al though the police pooh-pooh the matter, personal enquriea made on the spot con vince me that there should be a searching enquiry. For obvious reasons I will not mention names. The man disappeared some weeks ago, the police alleging that the last time he was seen alive he was ' coming out of a public house. But neigh bours allege that for two liours afterwards they heard his voice in altercation with his wife and her paramour, and that next day and for several days afterwards, enor mous liras were kept up in this house, and the smell of burning flesh was so horrible that complaints were made to the Inspec tor of Nuisances. Surely there is a caw here for investigation.

THE ASHBURTON GUARDIAN

[Saturday October 25. 1879,

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