Rensselaer Republican, Volume 21, Number 51, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 August 1889 — Page 6

COMPENSATION. HOKACS M. fvTCnAKDS. you lift from some heart its burden of care. As you journey o'er life's dusty road, You are not only gathering treasures up ••" there, * ■: But you lighten yottr only earthly load. • ■■ti-jroa oheer aome lonely soul on its wearisome way, Or drive from some brow its shadows and gloom. Your burden will lighten each hour of the day. You are strewing with flowers your road to the tomb. •» you come as a helper to a soul that’s in Or lend to the weary your strengthening hand, You are tilling God's garden and sowing the seed Or a harvest of love, in the soul's summer land„ If you have but a word, a smilo or a tear, Don’t hoard it, give freely, ’twill solace some grief, ~v Take the pain from some heart, some weary one cheer,- ■-** And bring to the pain in thine own hear relief

TOO LATE.

A Story of Si Valentine’s Day. CHAPTER I. “It is very distressing John, excuse her as you will; but beyond dancing and riding I verily believe Nell has not a single thought.” “Nevermind, Mary; she won’t distress you long. She is far prettier than arty of her sisters; she’ll marry soon. \V§ have more cause than most parents to be grateful to matrimony, not only on our own account, but on our girls—it has taken them all off our hands. Seven marriageable daughters were an embarrassing stock-in-trade.” “Nell with all her frivolity, will be difficult to please, John; but, if she ever loves, it will be forever. Somehow I dread the future for Nell." Mrs. Thanet paused, and then continued with a sigh—“Do you still intend Randall for the medical profession?” “Yes; we have discussed that subsay. My mind is made up. Besides, Randall has given in; I knew he would, for, as I have said over and over again, the boy has no special bent, but he knows a good deal about natural history. Believe me, he is more suited to the medical profession than any other, though I dare say he will never rise above mediocrity in it, nor indeed would he in any calling requiring indepence of thought or action.” “Which, above all others, the medical profession does. Your judgment is at fault John.” “Not at all. There are certain lines laid down, and, if he keeps to them, he’ll do—he has brains enough to get through the examinations, and that’s all we need care about it.” Mrs. Thanet sighed; but she was a wise woman, so wasted no more words. At that moment the door was rather brusquely opened, and a young girl came hastily into tho room. “Oh, mamma," she cried, “the Hammonds are getting up a pic-nic to Hart's Hill, and they want us all to join. It is to be on Thursday, next week. ” “Next week I shall be at Warminster, Nell,” answered her mother. “Poor Gussy’s baby is ill. I don’t think you can very well go without me. The Hammonds are not at all select in their choice of acquaintances.” “Well, Ido think it hard!” pouted Nell. “If ever there is a special party a sister or a baby is certain to turn up, and I am left to shift for myself.” “You are too giddy, Nell, and a picnic is a very free-and-easy sort of affair.” “But you forget, mamma,” urged Nell; “Randall can act as my escort. A pic-nic is not like a ball.” Mrs. Thanet smiled; she was an indulgent mother, if a little anxious. „ “You can go, dear,” she said, “if Mrs. Masters”—referring to a matronly friend—“will be responsible for you. She is sure to bo of the party; the Hammonds are never out of her house.” And so it was settled. Nell went to the pic-nic, duly credited by the bland Mrs. Masters, as well as by her twin brother Randall, between whom and herself there existed a marked resemblance. Both were dark of hair and pale of cheek, both had eyes of the deepest darkest hue: but, while Randalls on close scrutiny revealed the soft rich tint of the violet, Nell’s showed the strange rare iridescence of the hazel, suggestive of power and soul. Their very voices, when low pitched, had the same tone, and their smiles displayed the same pearly teeth, in both slightly inclined to be prominent; but, while the smiles on one face were somewhat melancholy and infrequent, on the other they were bright as sunbeams. To-day, on Nell’s fair face, the sunbeams were every w liQcg—now the ayes bad them, anon the lips, which quivered as quivers water touched by a darting ray, and, when eyes and lips were stftl, the lovely countenance seemed to scintillate with radiance from within, for by her side was the one man whom In all the wide world she was destined to Jove for ever. Youth and beauty were his too. They seeqied a pair well matched, as many said; but the love which had entered Noll’s soul, to bo a part of her very being, had only touched the surface ol Lyon Leslie’s heart. He believed himself to be in love; so he had dono on many previous occasions. But this time ho sjoined to have been rather hard bit. If the Initb were tola, he was more than a little uncom r oi table, and in very sober being a soldier, be could command e«- . •*. ,v.

cape if the symptoms became dangerous. Matrimony never entered his thoughts—-at least, not marriage with a dowerless girl of no particular family. He had a pretty exalted idea of his own worth, social and personal, and his ‘figure’ was high. Nell had no thoughts of her own worth from either of those appraising thoughts, in the common sense of the word, of marriage; she only felt she loved, and believed she was loved in return. They had been speaking of Randall, a subject on which Nell always waxed eloquent. “What is your brother going to be?” asked Lyon. “Oh, a doctor! but he doesn’t like the idea.” “Then whoever'makes him become one will be responsible for manslaughter, some day.” -•You see my other brothers are doing well in their professions, and papa chose for them. I think it Will all come right in the end, for he ia clever hnmtfrK fm njifjßut Nell’s trow had a shade of care. She threw it off. “Who made you a soldier?” she asked abruptly. “Myself. They wouldn’t hear of it at home; they wanted mo to take orders, because of a family living—you see I am only a second son—so I enlisted. They saw I was in earnest then, and got me a commission. Do you like soldiers?” She looked up at him quickly; his eyes had a tender questioning look. Hers sank, and she blushed. “Everbody likes soldiers,” she replied; “there's always something about them suggestive of the old days of chivalry and ro——” She stopped, and blushed more deeply. “Romance,” he said, finishing the word for her, and watching her eloquent face. She lifted her head quickly, and again met his gaze. He drew a decanter towards him, then lifted a glass and whispered softly— * “Drink to mo only with thine eye 9, ™ And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I’ll not look for wine.” Her deep hazel eyes literally glowed with fire as they for one brief moment seemed to blehd with his. His kindled cheek flushed, he leaned forward and touched her hand; then, pale as a lily, she rose and strolled as in a dream into the dell. He followed. Wild flowers clustered at their feet, the dog-rose and woodbine arched their heads. In shady nooks the violet thronged, filling the still air with perfume, and on grassy mounds was grouped the fragrant lily of the valley. Threading its way with a scarcelyheard murmur, was a tiny stream, filled to the very Brink with clear limpid water, fed by a well-less spring that in tlie droughiest summer never Iried up; it flowed on its even way to the great placid lake outside the confines of the valley. The banks of the silvery rivulet were fringed with ferns, for-get-me-nots, and flag lillies. Nell bent by its side and threw blossoms in. With his hands full of for-get-me-nots Lyon Leslie stood watching her. “Shall we try our fate, Nell?” he whispered, giving heras he spoke some of the flowers he lipid. She took them, and again their eyes met. There was no one nigh, no sound but the quret murmer of the stream, and now and again the broken song of some bird returning to its mate. No loud carol ever pierced the dell, only snatches of tender melodies. A subdued halo was over all, and the very sunbeams stole in with mellowed light. As the flowers were passed to her her hand touched Lyon’s, and she trembled. His arm stole round her, and Che-made no-adverse movement. His pell—love’s spell—was on her. Then their lips met in one long silent kiss, and the flowers fell to their feet. The strains of music came from a distance. “They are going to dance,” she whispered. “ Let us go round by the lake.” Still encircling her with his arm, he obeyed. Her spell too was on him, and he weighed the words she whispered. There was not one to bind him to her. She did not miss such words. She hardly heard those he spoke; all that entered her soul was the deep rich tone of his voice, the glowing fire of his eyes. In her heart of hearts she believed that in that supreme hour their spirits had mingled in an indissoluble union, and that what must follow to join their hands was but the required conformance to the word’s rules. As they neared the lake, the stream broadened; it hardly seemed to move. The trees had grown sparse, and the sunshine was strong and full. She stooped and plucked two sprays of for-get-me-nots. “Let us put each other to the test,” she said, giving him one. “Throw with me and see if we reach the lake together, Whoever fails is false.” And she laughed in merry defiance of such a possibility, at the same moment coating hor v veßture. He did the same. Then, hand in hand they followed the frail dies, which slowly bore onwards, his in advanoeof here. Insensibly Lyon’s spray wore toward the bank, from which, as the stream neared the lake, the fronds of the fern grew taller and stronger, and now, pushed forward by the thick growing herbage behind, were bent over and touched the water. But straight, unswerving as the clear water itself, Nell’s spray sailed on. It was in advance now. “You are tired of me,” she whispered. He answered her with his eyes, and she was content. As the rivulet advanced to its source it widened and its waters became troubled. The lazy lappinjr of the lake, too, against the tshore changed at that point to tremulous agitation, and then, with ceaseless quiver, and now and again an im- • " ' ’

potent dash, as if in protest and warning, received into its quiet bosom th« little tributary from the valley. But, as .the waters touched each other, Nell's spray rose above the troubled surface, and, carried by an impetuous wavelet, lay still and fair, beyond the margin of the lake. But Nell was not looking at the stranded spray; her eyes were fixed upon its laggard convoy,—which, caught by an over-reaching frond, had bean sucked Into the thick fuliuge of the bank; and now, to all but her keen sight, was lost to view. With a great sigh she looked up at Lyon, a scared expression in her sweet eyes. “You are superstitious,” he said. “I shall live to plague you long enough.” “It was not your death I feared,' 1 she

whispered. “Then what?” “Your truth;” and her cheek paled. ‘ ‘Love and fear do not dwell together, Neil, in trusting hearts.- 11 Then, as if curiously, he added—“ Would you be very angry?” “At what?” It was a home question, and Lyon was prudent. “If anyone played you false,” he said, smiling. “Any one!” she said, flushing as if pained; and then proudly—“ You say love and fear cannot share the same heart; neither can anger and love. When anger enters, love has gone.” “You would be unforgiving then?” he asked. “Not unforgiving; I should simply forget”—and then, in a lower tone—“and never, never trust again.” There was a silence between the two. She stood before him pulling a fern to pieces, her head bent and her eyelashes wet. He was reading her downcast face with a strange wonder in his heart that he could feel so strongly as he did. Would it then be so easy for him to “forget”? Would he repent when too late? His face too grew troubled. A great tear dropped from Nell’s eyes upon her hand. He bent and wiped it away. She flung the fern to the .ground, and threw her.head back with just a Aouehof Hauteur. “If any one played me false, I should find something better to do than poor Mariana of the Moated Grange did,” she laughed. “I should gather up the fragments of my shattered life and work.” And there stole into his heart a conviction that the young impressionable girl he thought to love so lightly, to dally with a few leisure hours, and leave for other “woods and pastures new,” was a noble woman, strong in, as yet, untried character, brave to dare and to do. Deep he might dive again, but never find so priceless a pearl; wide he might range, but never pluck so sweet a flower. Words from which he might never >swerve trembled on his tongue; his hand was raised to cast the die, when she said, very simply, but earnestly—- ♦-? I- think I have what some would call Plebeian instincts. I love work.” Yes, that was the barrier—Plebeain bringing up. He would never pass that. When the glamour of early love had given place to sober reflection, he would be sure to feel the difference between them; it would he shown in a thousand ways; and then her relatives, he could not stand them—at least some ; and he knew he could not separate her from them entirely, if at all, for Nell was devoted to her father and fond of her sisters. So quickly passed these thoughts through his brain, that almost on the instant he answered Nell, Tightly, yet tenderly—- ‘ * There is nothing of the Plebeian about my Nell; she would grace a throne! ” 7 * - • At that moment came the strains of music from the valley, “They are going to dance,”, she said. • “Then we’ll tread a measure on the greensward together,” he answered, taking her by the hand and leading her back to the rest of the company. Nell’s heart fluttered, and her eyes were pensive; there was a blank, she could not tell why—a want, she could not tell what. (to be continued.)

A Good Use.

“Aw,” said an English tourist, speaking to a conductor on a Missouri railway, “will you please tell me why the train has stopedhere?” “Still-house,” answered the conductor. “A still-’ouse!” “Yes.” “May I ask w’g you stop at a still’ouse?” “To get whisky to run the train with.” 4 “What! run a train with whisky?” “Yes, use it instead of water. Fill up the tender with it. Makes better steam than water does. Lasts longer —pulls harder. ” “You don’t say so?” “Yes, I think I do.” “Well, isn’t that viry, viry queer, you know?” “Ko, can’t say that it is.” “I must make a note of that.” The following shortly after appeared In a London publication: “The Americans now run their railway engines with whisky. This is the result of the recent republican victory. Numerous distilleries belonging to the democrats were confiscated after the campaign, and as the liquor is too strong for the republicans to drink, they use it in hauling their trains.”—Arkansas Traveler. An excellent liniment for neuralgia is made of sassafras, oil of organum, and a half ounce of tincture of capsicum, with half a pint of alcohoL Soak nine yards of flannel in this mixture, wrap it around the head, and then insert your head in a hay stack until death comes to your relief.—Larninu Boomerang. . ’’T '.T ' * ' "• J'kifil

THE SEXES NORTH AND SOUT.

Some valuable Statistics In Regard to Men and Women. In 1880 there were 5d,050,000 people in this country, and about 882,000 more males than females. That was onlj because more males were bora; tht females live the longest Of the centenarians i. 400 were men and 2.901 were women. The boys start out nearly 1,000,000 ahead, and remain ir the majority until the sixteenth yeai when the girls are a little more u umerdus. Sweet 16 is a numerous age anyhow. After thef first one and then the ether is in. that majority, the girls gradually gainingafter 36 and leaving the men far behind after 75. To balance this longevity of the females in almost every state a few more boys are born; not many more, but always a few. it is astonishing to see when the census gives thousands and hundreds of thousands of hoys and girls under 1 yean old there aro, with one or two exceptions, always a few hundred more boys, and only a few hundred more. In only six of the forty-nine states an d territories are more girls born, and in these states they are slightly in excess from eleven to eighty. Those exceptions are Arizona, Delaware, Florida, Louisiana, Montana and North Carolina. The fact that tin females are in the majority in all the original thirteen states but Delaware and North Carolina, especially in Massachusetts and New England, has created the impression that there is something in the climate or in the people tha't produces more women than men. This is a popular but egregious error. In Massachusetts there were in 1880, 437 more boys than girls under one year of age. The males are in the minority in almost all the eastern state?, because many of the young men go west. All over fTfe* west there is an excess of men, and those who are not foreigners, have been withdrawn from the states farther east. In the new states and territories this is most noticeable. In Idaho, for instance, there are twice as many males as females, but the male infants are only a little in excess of the females. The west is drawing heavily on the manhood- of the east. From this all the old states have suffered. Massachusetts seems to have lost more than any. - ——— There are parts of northern Ohio which are portions of New EnglamFremoved. Massachusetrs shows the loss and Ohio shows the gain. Another curious fact is that while over the country more boys than girls are born, in tho .cities and towns there arc more girls. Between the age! of 5 and 17 inclusive there aro 4,680 more girls than boys in New York county, 1,708 more in Kings c0unty,2,725 more in the city of Baltimore, 1,013 in Suffolk county, Mass. (Boston), 2,009 more in Cook county (Chicago),lll., 2,131 more in the city of St. Louis, 2.971 hiore in Philadelphia county and 2,638 more in the parish of Orleans. All these cities, except New Orleans, are in states where more boys than girls ar* born. In Georgia there are 137 counties, and in all but twenty-six of them there are more boys than girls. These twentysix counties include the eleven large towns and cities. Strange that not one of the cities should be left out. Stranger still, the excess of girls is about in proportion to population. Savannah leads off with 528 more girls than boys; Atlanta, 385; Augus a, 303; Macon, 154; Columbus,l3l; Cartersville, 122; Rome 50; Athens, 50; Albany, 16; Griffin, 11, and Americus, 7. Savannah, though she has a somewhat smaller population than Atlanta, has a larger excess of girls. This seems to be peculiar to old cities. It is so with Baltimore, New Orleans and New York. The excess is greater in New Orleans than anywhere else. Is this a peculiarity of the French? The facts present a fact worth studying. Are there fewer men in the sities than in the country?—-Philadel-phiaTimea. . ——— t: —

The Name of Iowa.

The state derives its name from the tribe known now as the lowa tribe. Much learning, or at least research, has been wasted in the attempt to show the orthography and definition of this word among the. Indians themselves. While Washington Irving, with the license allowable to an imaginative writer, states that? the meaning of the word is beautiful, and recounts the incident by which that phrase was first applied to the country.saying that the tribe who in their wanderings arrived at the highest point in the lowa prairies, looking over the vast expanse of country unintsrupted by hills or swamps, involuntarily uttered the word ‘‘lowa,” meaning beautiful. But probably a better authority for the meaning of the word was Mr. Antoine Le Claire, a half breed of the Sac and Fox natjons, who always asserted humorously that he was the first white man born in lowa, though his mother was mn Indian. He was employed for many years 4s an interpreter in their dealingsfwfth the various Indian tribes. His deftnition of the word was, “Here is thqspet—ibis is the pl?ce—to dwell in peace.' 1 It is very certain, however, that the name of the state, and ’the name of one of its secondary rivers A, running through a large part ol the oebter of the state, is derived.from the qAfte'of the tribe.—Harper’s Mag--M

Some Useful Hints.

A good dry .filling for pincnshione, which will keep needles bright, is coffee grounds. They must be carefully dried. Cjttchß may be much alleviated and dry throats cured by glycerine and lemon juice taken at night. The glycerine should be, diluted. Salt sprinkled on any substsnce burning on the stove w ill atop the smoke and smell. Salt thrown upon coals biasing from the fat of broiling chops or ham w ill cause the blase to subside. Wash pantry shelves with lime wader made by pouring water on * small piece of quicklime and allowing the sediment to settle. Lime and water also make the beet wash for cellar walk.

MEXICO’S WHITE HOUSE.

Tho Magnificent Pile of Marble That Maximilian Once Occupied. President Diaz has moved his official residence out to the castle of Chapultepee, says a Mexico letter to the Omaha Bee, which becomes once more —for the first time since the unlucky Maximilian and his charming wife lived there—the “white house” ol Mexico. Chapuitepec is one of the loveliest spots imaginable. It u unique in itself as well as in its name —“The Hill of the Grasshopper." ■ Montezuma made his summer-house here, and an underground passage still in exisfence was made, by his direction, to a point in the valley below, so that the Aztec chieftain could go tod come as he pleased. Under the old cypress trees in the park the conqueror Cortez pitched his tent after the celebrated “Noche Triste,” or night of sorrow, when the Aztecs fell upon the Spaniards_and massacred them. Here Maximilian and the unfortunate Charlott,a made lovo as they promenaded the magnificent marble terraces which were built by order of the “Austrian grand duke.” Here the Amerieau army fought a bloody but decisive bat-tle-one which has made the queer word Chapuitepec familiar to America* ears. - Imagine a park of 1,000 acres, covered with a dense growth of cypress, many of the trees 500 or 600 years old. The gray Spanish moss festooned from limb to limb adds to the 'picturesqueness of (he scene. In the center of this park—which is surrounded by massive walls on three sides, the old aqueduct forming the barrier on the fourthrises a precipitous mound, if such a term will express the idea. This mound is composed principally of rock, and is probably 200 feet in height. There is but one road to the top, the summit being inaccessible except by this single route. Upon the very apex stands the castle, completely covering the space, so that no matter from which direction you look there is a sheer deseent ol nearly 100 feet. The castle was buill in sections and presents no singular fealfiro of architecture, exueqft a peculiar double staircase that seems to have no supports. When Maximilian first saw thostaircase he remarked to the architect that he would not trust his own weight upon it, whereupon the designer, with his majesty’s permission, brought a regiment of soldiers and marched- them up and down the stairway ten abreast, thus demonstrating its strength. This staircase is the only one of its kind in existence and is built of white marble and brass The terraces at Chapuitepec are one of the sights of Mexico. They arc floored with white marble, with brasi balustrades, and lighted by electricity. The upper terrace extends the entire distance around the castle and is twen-ty-four feet broad. Lovely little flower gardens aro located at frequent intervals, and here are blooming geraniums, fuchsias, heliotrope, and mignonette, making the air rich with perfume and adding to the brightness of the scene. The furnishing of the castle for the reception of President Diaz lias been very el borate. The private apartments are in the northwest wing. Each room is frescoed appropriately. The chess-room has a chess-board in the center of the ceiling, with the bishops, king?, and queens in a merry dance abr tit it, tkerpa wns furn ish mg 1 appropriate music from the four corners ol the •oora. The private reception parlor t the president’s wife is “done up” in -ink silk with plush and brocade hangings to match. Every wait in the entire suite of rooms is covered with silk brocade instead of paper. The bedroom occupied by the president and his wife was decorated and furnished at an expense of *30,000. The diningroom has a seating capacity that it limbed to thirty persons. The magnificent solid silver that once belonged to the Emperor Maximilian', is to be but tlier 'China and glassware artT not in keeping with the royal magnificence of the silver; one of the soup tureens requires four men to carry it when filled.

How to Avoid Pneumonia.

The best cure for pneumonia is an ounce of prevention, Nasal obstruction and enlarged tonsils should receive immediate attention and radical treatment when necess iry. The nose has within its channels elements sot; clearing the air of foreign particles and warming it for the lungs. Any nasal occlusion compels the air to be taken in by the mouth—a most pernicious habit th t of necessity affects tho general health, causing narrowing of the chest, premature decay of tho teeth, and limits the air supply and lung capacity. Whoever breathes through the mouth Invites pneumonia. It is of the greatest importance that every inch of lung tissue should be in a relatively perfect condition the sum of all tho little spaces where air moets the blood is equal to the enormous area of 150 square yards. Each breath may be bringing in from the external atmosphere all manner of deleterious material, seeking somo weak spot to gain a foothold. This weak spot can not exist without danger to health. The entire blood current comes to the lungs to obtain from the outside world the life-giving principle. This 150 yards of tissue requires a supply of pure oxygen over 1,000 times every hour. When children play, race and romp the lungs are filled in every part, and this very exorcise of filling them strengthens their substance. Brisk walking, with deep inspirations aud the mouth closed, helps s|reep but the, products of waste. Everything that expands the chest, as tennis, bowling, rowing, fencing, etc., is an antidots to possilo phoumonia. —Medical Classics.

London Fogs.

The sanitary and general purposes jommittee of the London county coun:il have been instructed “to take into jonsideration the causes of the fogs which trouble London during the winter months and the increased death rate during the prevalence in order to put in force existing powers for dealing with them, and obtaining increased powers if necessary.” r/-uy^ "X ljjj9(fH| W&fit '•*. r. ’’/ 'W- ' s _ ’• 1 *• .'if.

ONE OPIUM-EATER CURED.

But It Took a Term In Sintr Slog and Endless Agony-to Do it. A confirmed opium-smoker was recently asked, says the New York; Sun, whether he ever knew a. person who had been cured of the habit “Only once,” he replied, “and them It wasn’t a voluntary cure by any! moans. He was a man about 35 years, old, who had been a slave to the habit for fifteen years. He was so given up to it that his business went to smash and he used to resort to all manner of things in order to get money to purchase a ‘shell.’ He used to crave eight shells or $2 worth of opium a day, and I have frequently met him in a joint that was run by two tough Chinamen oa Marion street offering to roll for smokers in order to share their opium. One day he had been without a smoke for about seven hours, and he became so desperate that he tried to rob the till in a grocery store. He was detected and arrested. He got word down to the joint telling of his misfortune, and begging for God’s sake that sombody would send him some opium. I bought some dry opium pills and got them in to him after a deal of trouble. The next day I called on him, and a more miserable wretch I never saw. He was doubled up with cramps in the etomach, and the inevitable pain between the shoulders, which feels as though somebody was driving spikes into your flesh, was racking him. These tortures jjfgre joined to severe pains in all the joints, as though the limbs were decay- ' ing and would soon drop off. He had been without opium so long that he was fairly famishing, and the small quantity x>f the drug I had been able tc send was disposed of in short order. “There isn’t a taste of it left,’ he yelled to me as I entered his cell in the Tombs. Then he rolled his tongue around as though searching for any small particles that might be hidden away in a tooth. I gave him the pills I had brought. He seized them like a starving man would seize a crust of bread. He placed two of them in his mouth and rolled them around until they had dissolved and then washed them down with a mouthful of water. In a few minutes he was lying on his cot as placid and happy as a healthy baby. I kept him supplied with opium: until he was tried and sentenced. I managed to slip a few of them into his hand as he was on his way to Sing Sing. I heard no more of him and forgot all about him until one day on Broadway, several years later, a stalwart, rosy cheeked fellow slapped me on the shoulder and heartily shook me by the hand. I was nearly surprised into a fit when he explained that he was the opium fiend of a few years ago. He said that when he got to Sing Sing tho habit was on him very strong. The pills 1 had given him had crumbled to dust in his pocket and had become so mixed up with a lot of other stuff that! ho could not use them. He was in a raging torment that night and cried for the drug. The keepers found him,’ and the prison physician who was call-, od fortunately diagnosed the case correctly. It wasn’t to him, however, for every feature of the man’s face and every motion of his body almost proclaimed him an opium » fiend. He was removed to the hospital and the physician was kind enough tq get interested in the case. He braced him up with hypodermic injections of morphine every time the craving came on, and by a liberal use of this drug

finally wore away the desire for the other. Of course this treatment created the morphine habit, but this was mqre I'eadily cured and my friend soon lost all desire for drugs of ar.y kind, and is a prosperous, lmppy man to-day. If he had not been arrested ho *ould certainly have gone the way of all the fiends, and have ended his life himself or died miserably in some hole. Ho tried to reason the case with me in hopes that I would surrender the drug and enduro the agonies that such a privation would produce for the pleasures attending the feeling that I was no longer a slave to it. I have heard aIL of those arguments a thousand times and frequently I have lain in a joint with another smoker and we have both sworn off and the very next day we would both be in the same place again. lam getting worse every year. The habit is growing more expensive and the longer I am at it the less disposed do I feel for work of any kind. My memory is failing me now and I nni already pretty well along on the downward road. I’ll go a little further down and then good-by to everything.”

Bucolic Sayings.

The phrases of country people are picturesque enough, says the Boston Courier, and one who take? the trouble to pick them up is not loog in making an interesting collection. As a contribution to such a collection m ty be offered a couple of remarks njade by a woman in the rural district* of Maine. In spanking of a neighbor who was remarkable for her thinness the old lady observed in her squeaky voice and with the usual twinkle in her eye: “Well, yes; Mirandy an’t go no more flesh on her bones than there is on a hen's forehead.” On another occasion, when the old lady was considerably exercised concerning the doings and sayings of a neighbor who often excited her disap. provnl, she broke out with: “And as for that Maria Jones, she's jest a piece of the old* boy left in the world for seed and that’s jest what she *s and nothin' else.” . * . '(