This story was told with such energy, and with an air so lofty and stern, as to make all the party afraid to speak. Soon after, the stranger left the cave for a short time, as if the thoughts excited by his narrative could not brook the confinement of the cavern. He soon returned, and all retired to rest. In the morning the hunters took leave, Alexis bearing with him a rich present of furs from the hermit, several of them the finest of sables. One of these was carefully rolled up, and Alexis was instructed in a whisper to see that, if possible, it should be sent to the princess Lodoiska! At the same time, he was told never to reveal the name and character of the stranger whom he had met, and was also requested to enjoin secrecy upon his companions. Linsk and his party went back to their hut; and in a few weeks, having obtained a large amount of rich furs, they took advantage of the sledges of some Tungusians, going to Yakoutsk, and returned to that place, making a brisk and rapid journey of several hundred miles in a few days. Alexis little expected the news which awaited his arrival. THE following complimentary toast to the ladies was given at a railroad celebration in Pennsylvania: “Woman--the morning star of our youth; the day star of our manhood; the evening star of our old age. God bless our stars!” [Illustration] Hay-Making. No part of the business of farming is more pleasant than hay-making. It is true, that to mow the grass, and make the hay in the broiling sun of July, is rather hard work; yet, after all, hay-makers are usually a cheerful, merry, frolicsome set of people. There are few sounds more pleasant than those produced by the whetting of the mower’s scythe. This proceeds from the ideas that are associated with it. It is then that the summer flowers are in full bloom; it is then that their sweet perfume is borne upon every breeze; it is then that the song of the bobolink, the meadow-lark, the oriole, and the robin, is heard from every bush, and field, and tree. When, therefore, we hear the ringing of the mower’s scythe, ideas of the flowers, of their fair forms, and lovely hues, and delicious fragrance; of the birds, and their joyous minstrelsy, come thronging into the mind, thus producing very agreeable emotions. Nor is this all--the hay-making season is a time when children can go forth to roam in freedom where they will; to chase the butterfly, or pluck the flowers, or dabble in the brook, or stoop down and drink from the rivulet, or sit at leisure beneath the cooling shade of the trees. It is a time when the poor are relieved from the pinches of Jack Frost; when the young are gay, and the old are cheerful. It is the time when people saunter forth at evening, and feel that they might live in the open air,--when the merry laugh is heard in the village, at sunset; when the notes of the flute steal through the valley, and many a musical sound comes down from the hill.