334 
from the milk, after the eream is taken 
of. ‘Ihe alembic uscd in the process 
they heat with the dung of cattle, and 
especially of the dromedary ; it gives 
a bright and clear fire, like turf. 
These liquors are very different, 
though prepared with the same matec- 
rials. The koumiss is a sour milk, 
that has undergone a degree of vinous 
fermentation; it is precisely the same 
as the pinna,a favourite beverage with 
the Laplanders. The milk brandy is 
an ardent spirit, obtained from the 
koumiss by distillation. 
Sometimes the Kalmucks use cow’s 
milk for preparing the koumiss; but 
mare’s milk is preferred, as yielding 
three times the quantity of brandy. In 
making dhe koumiss, a portion of hot 
water is mixed with six times as much 
mare’s milk, equally hot. For leaven, 
they throw into it a small quantity of 
old koumiss, and the whole is shaken 
together till the fermentation takes 
place. To render the same complete, 
artificial heat and shaking are indis- 
pensable, 
To the brandy extracted by distilla- 
tion, the Kalmucks give the name of 
rack or racky. 'The word doubtless 
comes from arrack, a term used in 
India for fermented liquors. The rack 
of tho Kalmucks, however, as a 
brandy, is both weak and ill tasted. 
These liquors (says Mr. S.) are pre- 
pared by the women, and, from the 
simplicity of their apparatus, we may 
infer the antiquity of the invention. 
The alembic is. made of earth or 
coarse clay; arced serves for the neck 
of the retort, and the receiver is coat- 
ed over with wet clay, that the vapour 
may cool the sooner. 
- Original Poetry. 
[Nov. 1; 
MRS. WOLSTONECRAFT AND MISS BLOOD. 
These two ladies were not of fecl- 
ings to sit in green and yellow melan- 
choly, ‘a worm i th’ bud, feeding on 
their damask cheeks;’ nor yet quite 
ready to exclaim, with one of Dryden’s 
heroines, 
again I stand 
The jolliest spinster in the land. 
But conceiving that they had a right 
to procure husbands if they could, it 
so happened that they were both in 
love, at the same time, with Mr. Cur- 
tis, the botanist. They kept a school 
at Walham-creen, while he lived 
about amile nearer Londcn,atQueen’s 
Elm. Prompted by the affections of 
nature, the current of which it is hard 
to check, they were accustomed to visit 
him rather oftener than he could wish; 
the character and style of his avoca- 
tions, as he was celebrated in his line, 
requiring all his time. This induced 
him to be frequently denied to them, 
though it was touching, tenderly, a 
sore part, for he liked their company 
very much, if his time would have 
permitted. But it seems they could 
not mould bis feelings to their pur- 
pose. One day they happened to get 
access to him by means of a stratagem, 
indicative of attachment; but their 
male friend, on this occasion, might 
know too much,—as, after half an 
hour’s intercourse, he observed, on 
their retiring, fo a young artist then 
present, “These are two clever young 
women, and I acknowledge myself very 
‘much gratified with their company ; 
but it is a pity they do not mend the 
holes in their stockings 1” 
ORIGINAL POETRY. 
—I_ 
A DOMESTIC SKETCH: 
BY J. R. PRIOR. t 
VENING the time. The labours of the field 
And busy diy are closed, The father smiles, 
And with his son returns to greet his wife 
And fine young nestlings to their heart. The cot 
Is cover’d o’er with briars, and roses fall 
In blossom, and rich cluster’d grapes suspend 
About the lattice-wiadow ; at the door 
The gladsome offspring play, and court the hour 
That comes, before their lids are press’d by health 
Into delicious sleep. Kisses exchange; 
"The supper-cloth 1s spread upon the bench, 
And viands are prepared. ‘Content surveys 
The wholesome meal, and appetite is fresh 
And sweeter for industrious care. The sky 
Draws round the hemisphere a raven cloud; 
The wind blows loudly through the welkin; eve 
Retires: it lightens. “Flark! it thunders: rain 
Is forming drops from the reeumbent sluice, 
And drawing down their lengthening liquid wires, — 
Through which the sonorous breeze conveys his 
voice 
With many a plaintlve chord, strack in the harp 
OF Nature’s sweet contriving,—warns the tribe 
To bosom in their nest from danger. Hark! 
Again the flash describes the arehd declive 
Of rock and mountain. Thunder still attacks 
Theear. The father rises from his seat 
Glancing his love upon the love th 
His heart and speech a fonder feeling :—rise 
His offspring too, and fondly round his strength 
And tree-Jike form the younger branches curl; 
Fear waves their palpitations,—for their hope 
Is tutor’d from their thought of his secure 
And happy state. The matron, like a hen, 
Invites he erhit of dear and anxious growth 
Into their safer dwelling. Louder drums 
The spreading thunder; swiftlier flics the keen 
And scorching fire: the torrent falls; the earth 
Casts up a hissing smoke. A moment breathes, 
Heaven’s combat is renew’d with fiercer ire : 
Silence pervades the cottage; in a chair 
The father sits and reads, to cliarm the seene 
So vrand and awful; but a sudden flash 
Klectried, selects him for the grave. 
How soon the futherless aid widow mourn 
When 
