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 down to springs far beneath the parched ground.  Sometimes these springs are so far down that the trees are planted in deep holes, something like wells, so that the roots may reach water.  Hardly anything except this tree can grow in that desert.

The fruit of the tree is delicious food; the long trunk makes poles for tents; the leaf-stalks make many kinds of basket and wicker work, walking-sticks and fans; the leaves themselves are made into bags and mats; and the fibers at the base of the leaf-stalks are twisted into cordage for tents and harness.  The sap of the tree, drawn from a deep cut in the trunk near the top, after standing a few days, becomes a sweet and pleasant liquor.  Cakes of the fruit pounded and kneaded together “so solid as to be cut with a hatchet,” are carried by travelers going across the terrible desert.