alled
"Frangipani," or "Breaker of Bread."

Now, this way of explaining how words come to be formed, sounds well
enough, no doubt. But how are we to know, in this case, that the marquis
didn't invent the pudding as well as the scent? However, I must leave
you to puzzle out the problem for yourselves, my dears, while I give you
some information about

A SEALED POSTMAN.

You've all heard of sealed letters, of course, and seen some, too, no
doubt; but did you ever hear of the letter-carrier, also, being sealed?
Well, a bit of news has come saying that, among the Himalaya Mountains,
the men who carry the mails on horseback are sealed to their saddles, in
such a way that while they can ride easily enough they cannot get down
from their seats; and, what is more, the mail-packages are sealed to the
men! Once started on the route, the seals are not allowed to be broken,
except by the postmaster at the next station, and, if they happen to get
broken otherwise than by accident, the carrier is severely punished.

The result of this sealing is that a mail-carrier who wishes to steal
the letters in his charge is obliged to steal also the saddle and
horse,--and himself as well, I suppose.

Nice places these carriers have to ride through, at times! Why, in some
parts, the road is so steep that, in going down, the rider is kept
upright by a rope passed under his arms and held in the hands of two men
who are above him on the mountain. If it were not for this, the rider
would fall over the head of his horse, or else cause the horse itself to
go over head first.

Altogether, the postmen of the Himalayas must have a hard time of it.

WIND-HARPS.

East Saginaw, Mich.

DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: Please will you or any of your "chicks"
tell me how to make a wind-harp, or Eolian harp?

Your friend, MINNIE WARNER.

Time and again have I heard tell of wind-harps and the sweet music the
wind coaxes out of them. The sighing and singing of the breezes through
the tree-tops must be something like it, no doubt. But I never heard a
wind-harp's song, and of course don't know how to make one. Perhaps,
some of you know, however, and if so I shall be obliged if you will send
me word, so that I can pass it on to Minnie and the rest of my chicks.

"THE JOY OF THE DESERT."

In Africa is a vast, dreary waste, called the Desert of Sahara. In
widely scattered spots of this desert there grows a tree that sends its
roots dow