“But they come again when the young earth feels The new blood leap in her veins, When the fountain of wonderful life unseals, And the earth is alive with the rains.” “I sow,” said Death; “but my flowers unseen Pass away from the land of men, Nor sighs nor tears through the long sad years Ever bring back their bloom again. “But I know they are wondrous bright and fair In the fields of their high abode; Your flowers are the flowers that a child may wear, But mine are the blossoms of God.” Death came to the earth, by his side was Spring; The two came from God’s own bowers; One sow’d in night and the other in light, Yet they both were sowing flowers. A TOUR ROUND THE WORLD. By MRS. JOSEPH COOK. [Continued.] On a voyage from Suez to Bombay there is no debate as to what line of steamers to take, for those of the Peninsular and Oriental Line, commonly spoken of as the P. & O. steamers, are acknowledged to rank first in comfort, cleanliness, and safety. It is on the day before Christmas that the Chautauquans embark on the stately “Siam.” At four o’clock in the afternoon all is ready, the word of command goes forth, the chains rattle, the gang-plank is drawn, and under bright skies and on a smooth sea we start on our voyage from the Levant to the Orient. We are on deck at seven o’clock Christmas morning, but the mountain region of Sinai is already far behind us, as dim as cloudland, and we have fairly entered the Red Sea. Our pocket thermometer indicates 75° of heat, and when we go to breakfast we find the _punkahs_ swinging. The stewards are immaculate in their white trousers and black alpaca jackets. This is our first introduction to the _punkah_, which becomes our best friend in India. It is simply a fan some three feet wide, and from five to ten feet long, suspended from the ceiling by cords, hanging over the dining table, the drawing-room, or over your bed, and manipulated by a mild Hindu, who, if he were not doing this, would probably be seated in the same position doing nothing. It is a wonder that our midsummer American heats have not been alleviated by similar contrivances, only with our inventive genius we should have them propelled by machinery. Alexander Duff complains of suffering more in public speaking in America than in India, from the absence of the _punkah_, which is hung over preacher as well as people in the churches of the principal Indian cities.