Rensselaer Republican, Volume 24, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 June 1892 — Page 2

CAST UP BY THE SEA.

CHAPTER X.—Continued. The cry of “A sail!” was heard, and as Paul, who was growing weak from loss of blood, for an instant looked at the sea, be saw the Polly, with two masts gone, drifting disabled some hundred yards away before the wind. His eyes became hazy; a giddiness seized his hrain as the blood flowed rapidly from his bounds; he knew no more: he fell upon the deck by the' side of the staunch Dick Stone. The loss of life had been fearful in this desperate hand-to-hand struggle: out of a crew of forty men, the schooner had lost her captain and twelve men killed, and fourteen wounded, leaving only fourteen sound men on deck. The shots from the Poljy’s long gun had hulled and raked the French vessel repeatedlv, and upon every occasion there had been a loss of life: the discharge of the blunderbuss alone had killed three and wounded six, and the schooner’s decks were strewed with dead and slippery with Blood. The The remaining portion of the crew jwere demoralized at the loss of their captain, and, seeing the large vessel that had been reported as a strange sail tjow rapidly. Approaching, they determined to leave the Polly to herself and to run from what they correctly suspected to be a British man-of-war. The schooner at once altered her course, and, with the loss of her fore-topmast, she attempted (her escape, leaving the Polly, whose •crew were busily engaged in repairing damages. { Hardly had the French vessel sailed a quarter of a niile, when a cloud of smoke for, an instant obscured the Polly, as a shot from her long gun passed through the schooner's rigging. The English crew had seen the approaching succor, and they continued to fire shot after shot, in the hope of disabling a spar or yard, to enable the cruiser to overtake the enpmy. //< In less than three quarters of an hour the brig-of-war, with the English colors flying, hailed the Polly, and. heaving to, she lowered a boat, and, upon hearing an account of the late fight, she took the lugger in tofr. The French schooner was out of sight, and, as the captain of the brig was under orders to proceed to .Falmouth, he declined to begin a chase that would lead her in an opposite direction, especially as the schooner might have altered her course, which would rent er her discovery most uncertain. Within an hour of the action the brig was under full sail toward Falmouth, with the disabled lugger in tow, while the wouuded men had been transferred to the King's ship and placed uuder surgical t:eat meat. We piust now return to the schooner, which steered direct for Dunkerque, As she lost sight of the , English cruiser, the crew regained their spirits, and, having the dead bodies overboard, they washed the ■soiled decks and carried the wounded men below. As one by one. the dead ""min 'were~ exmamed,''--an<rsfnpp!3; prior to being committed to the -waves, the sailors who were thus em■ployed came upon the bodies of Paul •and Dick Stone. They had just commenced their examination, and had turned Paul upon one side, when blood was observed to flow froffi one of the wounds, and upon a closer inspection it was discovered that he ■was not yet dead. As buckets of water were thrown upon the ;deck in all directions, the heave of the ves- - sei occasionally rolled the water in a considerable depth into the scuppers where the bodies of Paul and Dick Stone were lying. Having left Paul they now attempted to lift up the apparyntlv lifeless body of Dick for the purpose of throwing it over' board: with this intention, two men laid bold of it by the shoulders aiijS heels and dragged it toward .the open a gangway on the main deck. Before heaving it. * over they laid the ltody down, and one man exclaimed: ' Mon Dieu! what heavy people are these English! We could throw overboard two Frenchmen with less trouble than one rosbif Englishman. ’ As he said these words, to the horror of the Frenchmen the body of Dick. Stone suddenly sat up. and. looking about with an expression of extreme eooluess, he appeared to understand the unpleasantness of his .situation, as he exclaimed in a calm but faint voice: .. “You Hounseers are very perlite people, but I'll not trouble you to heave me overboard, as I can do that for myself whenever it s agreeable. ’ Having said this, he instinctively put his band into his trousers pocket •and drew forth his faithful pipe, which he deliberately filled; he then searched in his other pocket and produced his flint and steel: striking a light with difficulty, he faintly puffed his pipe, and then asked; ,T “Where’s my captain?” The Frenchmen pointed to Paul's * body; Dick stared mournfully at his commander's lifeless figure. “Wheee’s the Polly—the lugger?” continued Dick, still more faintly. The Frenchman pointed to the far horizon: /“Gone!” they exclainied. Dick’s eyes glazed and became fixed; the pipe dropped from his mouth; he fell backward on the deck and his features became rigid; a dense puff of smoke issued* from his mouth: the gallant spirit of Dick Stone had departed for ever. - *What droll peopleare these English!” who now examined the body Wt&fßuch curiosity. **Atl»th*i« dead. Give me a hand, and lift .his feet while I take his shoulders, now! •one! two! three!” . > i*. • . .

BY SIR SAMUEL W. BAKER.

A dull splash was heard as the schooner steadily continued upon her course. V • J ■' CAAPTER XI. When we last parted from Ned Grey, the Sibylle, one pf the finest frigates of the British navy, wa3 plouging along with a fair wind at the mouth of the Channel on her yov: age to the Indian station. Although strangers on board,, it was hot long before an incident occurred that raised the new-comers in the estimation of both officers and crew, with whom they hacT already become favorites. It would have been hard to say which was the greater pet with the sailors —the nigger boy Tim, or the dog Nero; the former had become Cook’s mate, and was domiciled in the galley; while the latter was allowed to range anywhere except upon the quarter-deck, which sacred spot Nero learnt to respect after he had been only a few days on board, aud nothing would induce him to trespass beyond the forbidden limit unless called by the captain, who had specially adopted him^ Captain Cooke was one of the brightest ornaments of the service. Beloved b.v his' men, they were ready to follow him through anv danger; and, although he was well known to be heedless ot a superior force, his attack was invariably attended with success; he was accordingly considered to be a lucky captain, and when others found a difficulty in manning their ships the Sybill was always certain of a superior crew. The frigate had passed the boisterous Bay of Biscay, aud had made a rapid run to the Cape Verd islands. It was about an hour before sunset that the high peak 1 of St. Antonio was first observed bv a man at the J mast head bearing S. Si E., and, as j the evening closed, this lofty land- ' mark faded from view, and mingled ! with the gray bank of clouds tbat concealed tne horizon. The night was fine and starlight, aud the noble vessel flew through the water as, with studding sail set, she sailed like a huge white swan over the phosphorescent waves that sparkled with myriads of lights as though in mockery of the bright stars above. The foam rushed from, her bows in sheets of mimic fire, while a brilliant stream of light washed her dark sides and glistened in her wake like a river of molten metal, as the Sibylle woke, from their sleep the billions of animalculae — those glow-worms of the deep that light the sailor’s path in the aark and fathomless sea. Now a huge polypus gleamed in the deep as though some mermaid wandered with her lamp below; then smaller lights twinkled in the creaming waves, and huge and shining serpents phased each other in wild speed as the swift porpoises left their lpng imd brilliant trail illumined in the dark blue sea. It was a lovely sight; it was one Of t,hos6 glorious ocean scenes that are unknown by those whose lives are passed on shore. Each drop of water teemed with life; there was the so-called barren sea, the watery desert peopled with its countless myriads; bright universe above; the heavens with their hosts of brilliant worlds so distant, so incomprehensible, equaled only in their infinity by the ocean waves, each of which contained a thousand worlds—life witliinlife—-worid without end. -“The Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. ” Ned Gre}' stood upon the deck and gazed below at the sparkling current ;is tne ship flew i-apidly on her way; he thought of home, of his' mother and of Edith: every instant the distance increased between them as the wind’liufried' the noble vessel farther and farther away. When, if ever, should he see their faces again? These thoughts "engrossed his attention, and, although he still looked fixedly at the phos- ! phorescent weather beneath, he al- ! most ceased to observe the brilliant scene, but merely gazed abstractedly, until a dark object struggling in the silvery stream arroused him from Ins reverie; almost at the same I iustant a loud cry waS? raised in the forepart of the ship—“A man over--1 board!” Instinctively, and without 1 a moment’s hesitation. Ned threw off ! his jacket, and repeating the Iplarming cry. he sprang boldly into the sea ’ 1 Rising auieklv to the surface after his deep plunge, Ned struciTout in the'direction of-the object that had first attracted his attention; this had vanished. “Where are you?” shouted Ned. A voice was beard far astern, at the same time Ned felt himself seized from behind by the shirt near the collar; in another iustant he felt a mires of silky hair as he reached back and found himself grasped by the strong teeth of his faithful dog. Nero was by his master's side, apparently sleeping on the deck, when Ned had sprung over the ship’s gangway, but, on seeing him disappear, the dog immediately lept overboard, and succeeded in catching him quickly his; reappeal ance on the surface. “Good old boy!” cried Ned, as he endeavored, to free himself from the dog; “loose it; old fellow! Let go, old man!” he continued, as Nero resolutely maintained his hold. After , some difficulty he released himself from the dog, who then accompanied him toward the object of their search, which could now be clearly made out “Bythe extreme brlghtoess of one ! partkaily spot in the water,caused hytne struggles of the person in the phosphorescence. -=7-— —r-r- --" Keep up till I come!” shouted ’ ,1. , ’ • >

Ned, to encourage the individual in question, who was about sixty yards distant, aod-without a thought for his own Safety he struck out with with increased vigor, with Nero swimming by his side. “Help! lam sinking!” cried a de-. sparing voice as Ned arrived within twenty , strokes of the struggling sailor. “Don’t.give in!” cried Ned, “I’ll save you!” and he redoubled his extertions to reach the drowning man; he was within a few feet of him, / when be suddenly threw his arms above his head, and he disappeared just as Ned was about to seize him by the hair. At that moment Nero dived, and following the bright light caused by the struggles of the sipking man, he caught him by the* shoulders and dragged him once more to the surface; without an instant’s delay Ned grasped him by the collar. “Hold him, good dog!” cried Ned, who found it difficult to hold the weight; but to his astonishment Nero relaxed his grip, and quitting the man, he caught Ned by the shirt sleeve at the shoulder. At this moment the head of the halfdrowned man turned, and the bright starlight shone upon the pale features of Jem Stevens. The dog had recognized him quicker than Ned, and nothing would .induce him to assist, it wa»in vain that Ned urged him on. Occasionally he relaxed his hold of his master and swam by his side, barking loudly, but he avoided Stevens with a stubborn determination. Several minutes elapsed in a severe struggle for life. Jem Stevens was ah enemy, but this fact only served to awaken the chivalrous nature of Ned Grey, who clung to him with a gallant tenacity that endangered his own life. Stevens was utterly helpless; he was half dead, and Ned would have been unable to hold his head above the surface had not the dog added to his buoyancy by holding him by the shdulder; even With this assistance .he was nearly exhausted. Several times he had swallowed large quantities of water, as for a few seconds the dog had relaxed his hold, when the shirt gave way, and Ned sank until Nero once mju-e glhsped a fresh portion .of his clothes. He was almost done, and he feared that for self-preservation he would be forced to relinquish his prize; he felt heavy in the water, and his limbs became almost leaden. Whenever the dog lost his hold he barked loudly, as though calling for assistance, but the Sibylle was far away; she had come sharp up to the wind at the cry of “man overboard,” and had laidJyher foretopsail aback, but she was ne&rly half a mile away from the spot before she could come round and lower ia boat. —

Once more Ned’s shirt gave way, and again he sank, and for an instant he loosed his hold of Jem Stevens; the dog barked loudly, and again he seized and supported his young master, who once more clutched the almost lifeless form of Jem Stevens, although "himself in the last stage of distress. At that moment, when it became positively necessary to sacrifice Stevens to save his own life, he heard a voice at no great distance: “Hold on, Massa Ned! Lord hab mussy pon us! Hold on, my dear Massa NedT Ti’tn got de life biiby! Tim coming quick catch Ned!” There was no mistaking the voice; it was hardly a hundred yards distant. and the hope of succor instilled fresh vigor into the sinking frame of the exhausted Ned. Nero had also heard the welcome voicenf* Nigger Tim, and,’for an instant relaxing his hold, he barked loudly in reply and then again supported his master. “Come quick, Tim, I’m very nearly done!” cried Ned. “All right. Massa Ned; tank God for Tim and de life buoy! I’s a coming!"’ In another mmul&, when N'ed could no longer have supported his burden, the dark and. welcome figure of Tim was seen within a few yards; he was swimming in the center of the life buoy with all his strength; and, gaining Ned, he slipped from his position. And assisted him to. the secure place, that he had vacated:at thesarab time with their joint endeavors they supported Stevens above the surface. Tim held on stoutly, while the dog, released from his labor, swam easily by the side of the party. In the meantime a boat was hurrying to their assistance from the frigato. The barking ot the dog was the first guide, but upon a-qearer approach the extreme luminous appearance of the water caused by the friction of the struggling swimmers directed the rowers to the spot. Although comparatively safe when clinging to the life buoy, much exertion was required to support the almost inanimate body of Stevens, and it was with a joyful sense of relief that Ned Grey hailed the arrival of the boat. “Back water!” shouted a voice as the boat spared them; at the same time a sailof iu the bow reached Ned with a boathook, grasping which the floating party was gently towed to the side and taken on board. Stevens showed no signs of life, and upon arrival at the frigate his body was hoisted on deck by a sling and at once consigned to the care of the doctor, while Ned and Nigger Tim quickly changed their clotnes, and,, refreshed by a glass of grog, they soon forgot their recent danger and escape. 'Nero had given himself a good shake, after which he was rubbed dry by several admiring sailors with a new swab, Ned Grey had only just reappeared on deck in a dry suit of clothes when he was summoned to the captain’s cabin. the door was opened bv the steward, and Ned found himself in *he presence of Captain Cooke, who was busily engaged in the -examine*

tion Of a chart of the Indian seas. As Ned appeared he rolled up -the chart f quickly, and, looking steadfastly for some moments at the lad without speaking, he at length asked his name. “Edward Grey, sir,” replied Ned. “You joined the ship against your inclination?" said the captain. “I was sorry to leave my home without a chance to say good bye, sir; but I’m proud to serve the King under you, sir,” replied Ned. “Well, Ned,” continued the captain, “the King may be proud of such a lad as yourself; you have done a gallant act to-night, and I am glad to have the command of one so young who has shown such courage and devotion. There are many: men who shine in the heat of action* but few who will risk their lives as you have done to save another. Tell me,” continued the captain, “is it ttrue that the lad you have saved is an old school fellow and a personal enemy?” “He was a schoolfellow, sir,” replied Ned, ‘ and I am sorry that he is an enemy. I trust that he may now forget the past,for I never gave him cause for dislike.” “Where do you live, and what is your occupation in England?” asked the captain^ Ned in a few words explained, and gave a short outline of his career, including the history of Nigger Tim s escape. “Well,” replied the obtain, 1 congratulate TEfire_are few_Jods_ of your age who have already saved two lives, and I trust that you will yet earn other laurels on board the Sybille. I need not tell you to do your duty, but I trust that the opportunity may soon arrive when you will prove yourself as brave under fire as you have beenjunder trials by water. Go, Ned, do your duty, and I wish I had many like you.” Ned’s heart beat with an honest pride as he left his captain’s presence. Ho felt at 4that moment as though be could dare the whole world to win his approbation, and he yearned for the moment when in the smoke of battle he should be able to gain a smile from his gallant com*mander. At the same time that these feelings occupied his thoughts, he longed to stretch out his hand to his old enemy, Jem Stevens, and to bury all enmity in the deep from which they had emerged. He had no sooner gained the deck than he requested to be allowed to visit Stevens, who was slowly recovering unde? the doctor’s care. He found him lying on the berth only half and apparently with a desire to sleep. The doctor had other patients to visit. and, as all immediate danger was past, he gave Ned a bottle that a gentle narcotic, of which he ordered him to give a tablespoonfut should he remain awake for more than half an hour. Ned sat by his berth, and watched the pale features of Jem Stevens by the dim light of lamp. The half hour passed, and, as he was still awake, Ned wished to give the draught that had been prescribed. He therefore gently took the band of Stevens that rested on ’ the bed ol’othes, and, pressing it affectionately , he whispered: ' ‘’Sfevens, tako this frofiai me. 1 promised the doctor to attend to you. Are you feeling better?” < There was no return on the part of Stevens to this friendly greeting; but, after gazing fixedly at Ned for a few minutes, he Coldly withdrew his hand, and, turning upon his side with his back to Ned, he muttered sullenly that he required no medicine but would go to sleep if left alone. □ Ned felt a pang as he quietly left the cabin and ascended to the fresh air of the deck. There was an unmistakable feeling in the withdrawal of the hand, and he knew that the stubborn nature of Jem Stevens was proof against all generosity. From that day Ned Grey held a high position in the opinion of both officers and crew of the Sybille; his ready obedience and alacrity in the performance of his duty, together ‘with hia-more than ordinary strength and activity, ensured him the good will of his superiors, while his general good nature and cheerful disposition, added to his well-proved courage, gained for him the admiration of the men. He had become an especial favorite with the captain, who had been much struck with his gentlemanly appearance and demeanor. Upon several occasions he had drawn from Ned certain descriptions of his former life that increased the interest he had taken, and he confronted Ned with the assurance that upon their arrival at the Indian station he would be able to write home to his parents and thus relieve their anxiety. At the same time, he advised him to stick* to his and that he would apply for his promotion, to enable him to enter as midshipman on the next voyage. There was only one individual among the entire crew of the Sibylle who aid not share the general feeling toward Ned Grey. This was Jem Stevens, who although he had |n some degree abated the insolence of his former demeanor, now sullenly passed him upon every occasion without condescending to notice his presence. Generosity of character is one of a sailor’s virtues, and the ingratitude of Jem Stevens, thus publicly exhibited, increased ’jjthe dislike with which he was generally regarded. In the midshipmen’s bferth he was positively hated; by the superior officers he was despised; aha the sailors had on more than one occasion declared that the dog Nero had *howfLmore discretion that Ned in refusing to assist' so worthless a * Mn— :■ ■ jj** 1 •" This was the state of feeling

among the officers and crew of ths Sibylle when, after a prosperous voyage during which she had captured several prizes, she arrived off the coast of Cpvlon, which was the first land sbnhad sighted since leaving the Cape Verd islands, The'frigate had coasted the southern portion of Ceylon at a distance that obscured all but the beautiful deep blue mountains of the interior which rose to an altitude that concealed their summits in the clouds. Upon rounding the eastern point the Sibylle steered directly north, and as the south-west monsoon was blowing strong, she coasted within ten miles of the shore to make the harbor of Trincomalee. Nothing could be more beautiful than the appearance'of this Paradise of the East. At times the lofty mountains although upward of sixty miles distant, appeared to be within a day’s march of the* vessel. The sea was deepest blue, and as the frigate stood close in shore when passing a projecting headland, the white surf was seen to-break upon the coral reefs almost at the feet of the waving cocoa-nut palms which formed dense groves even to the water’s edge. At times the native villages could be seen nestled among the shady palms. At length the latitude of the longed for harbor was reached, and the Sibylle steered direct for the shore toward the heights that rose near the entrance to Trincomalee. increased in beauty; the palms appeared to spring from the surface of the waves, and the hills, clothed with verdure to their summits, were reflected in the calm waters of the magnificent harbor, which, completely landlocked, lay like an inland lake surrounded by the most lovely vegetation of the tropics. (to be continued.)

A Curiosity, Partly Natural Partly Artificial, in Death Valley.

~ Dagger, coto., special. a~ • " The natural wonders of Death Valley have probably been more minutely and extensively described by professional writers than any other spot they never saw, but one wonder there has in some way escaped these untraveled scribes. In 1883 some borax works were built on the east side of the valley, a couple of miles or so above the mouth of Furnace Creek Canon. The road thence to the railroad led down the east side of the valley for several miles, and then had to cross over to the west side because no drinking water can be had on the east sidfr below Furnace Creek. Moreover, the land on the west side lies much better for a road. But how to get the wagons across the valley was a problem. From end to end the center of the valley is one long salt marsh, and in most places if i 3 so soft and wet that even a man would need snow shoes to insure his safety. Elsewhere, however, the ooze has been crusted over. This crust is in places very thin and treacherous, and only in one locality does it seem to be firm. Wherever this cimst has been cut through a thin slimy salt mud has been found to be of unmeasurable depth—unmeasurable with any line or pole. Dr. C. Hart Merriam’s pofps of Scientists cut through in one place and. easily shoved a pole down fifteen feet There is no guessing how much deeper the slime was. ’However, a road must be had, and ' so the workmen went about over the ] marsh where the crust seemed to be t thickest and sounded it with sledge hammers. They found ti e crust was a n/ixture of salt and sand, and eventually a route was decided upou. The road was then to be graded, and probably for the first time in the world a road the length of this one was graded exclusively with sledge hammers. Here is a stretch ©f solid salt some eight mises “across! "In a sense it j w r as level —there were no hills or ; valleys. In another sense there was 1 scarce a level square inch on the i bed. for the salt crust had probably, through the influences of heat from above and moisture from below, been | torn and twisted and thrown into the ; most jagged peaks, pyramids and j cpiscrossed ridges imaginable. They jjwfere not high—none more than four : fg^t —but there was not level space even for a man s foot between them! | Eveiyy step made was on a ragged i point or edge of- some kind. The nearest approach to anything like that I have ever seen was on the ice on Lake Erie where two fields had been jammed together by the wind and held so by the frost. The ragged : ice masses were somewhat like these j salt masses. They were larger, but they, were not so sharp or in any way so difficult to cross. [ Judging that the-crust would susj tam the weight of the wagons, the ] workmen slung their sledge |ham- ; mers day after day until they had : beaten down these pinnacles into a I smooth pathway six feet wide. It was perhaps the most laborious engineering work ever done in the country for the climate and the location. far from civilized habitations, combined to retard the efforts of the workmen. The roadway, when completed, led over what may be prop- | erly called a uapurally formed bridge ' of salt eight miles long—the only bridge of the kind in the world. As one enters the eastern end of this road two unmarked graves are ' seen in the salt crust near the track. They are the graves of unknown men who died there from the heat, and, after the fashion of the country, were buried where, they felt They “were covered aver witiLpieces of salt broken from the pinnacles near by! The crust was too hard to warrant digging into it. One must travel a long time to find to more graves ltke those, if, indeed, nwo more can b# found in the world: T - \V f. V 1 .. 1

JOHN H. WOODBURY’S PARLORS

A^ e S rt ? tlo !S. ar IS PMfined by Uie I r ea <llii < J>«y l n >tol l , t of Amer _ zsftGisxr*: Softened by Electrolysis; Murk* Disappear from the Touch of His Magic Hsad. Physicians throughout the country are gradually beginning to give more and more attention to the subject of dermatology A few years ago It was a very popular belief that a birthmark could by no possible means be eradicated from the skin We have only to go back a very short time to recall drs.ihas In which the villain was tracked from town to town and eventually handed over to outraged justice through a scar or birthmark which revealed his Identity. A drama bullton such a foundation would meet with well-merited ridicule to-day.' The villain would not be such a fool as to permit a facial disfigurement to advertise his personality. He would make short work of it by having It removed, and his changed appearance would then provo Bis Impenetrable disguise. In ten days A -person - afflicted with a mortifying birthmark, with pimple or red nose, could have any one of these disfigurements completely removed. The science of dermatology has not advanced at a snail’s pace. It has run the race of the hare, but has not

OPERATING ON THE FACE.

; whose magnificently furnished parlors at No. 125 West Forty-second street, New York City, are daily filled with people who apply to him for lelief from birthmarks, moles, superfluous hair on the face and kindred disfigurements. Prof. Woodbury Is really the dermatologist of to-day. He is tho Inventor of Dormaform, which is sold to physicians only. He Is also the inventor of Woodbury’S Facial Soap for the skin, scalp, and complexion, which is for sale by all druggists; also tho inventor of several facial appliances, which are patented at Washington. There are eminent medical practitioners In New York Who stand in the front rank as specialists in rheumatism, consumption, etc., but there Is none holding a higher place among those treating skin diseases than Prof. Woodbury. Many ire-hods of removing facial disfigurements were tried beforo Prof. Woodbury sojvcd the riddle. This physician treated the blood, this one used his scalpel, and another a useless powder. Prof. Woodbury revolutionized the science. He advanced the extremely radical opinion that birthmarks or moles should be treated by penetration; that they could be reduced to such! a state that they would take on a scab, aud that when the scab fell the birthmark, or whatever tho disfigurement might be, would neco3sarily disappear! This was a sweeping declaration.' and old forms and practices were Skittered by it. Yet it was a true solution, of the riddle. He uses no scalpel, nothing more than a harmless lotion, which changes the birthmark into an ordinary scab. Many of the most eminent society people of tho metropolis, who had been for years debarred (rom public life through a disfigurement of the face, testify every day to the success of the Professor’s methods. There is no physician in this country who has not some time or other attempted to remove a facial blemish, but where Is there one who can show such a record of uninterrupted success in m doing as Prof. Woodbury? He does not : keep a record! of all the epistles ho receives testamentary of his Skill as a dermatologist. 'J here Is one letter, from a prominent New Jersey banker, which is worthy of especial consideration, since it shows the deep interest of the writer in the physician , who cured him. Ti.e banker, after reciting, liko hundreds of other correspondents, had been cured of several very ugly marks on his face, suggested that the Professor write a book on Dermatology. He says he could not do a hotter thing for humanity. His volume would arouse public in terest In the groat science, and who have for years believed that they must live all their life with a crimson birthmark on their face*'would take courage and no doubt eventually ho relieved of their blemishes. The banker Is not, however, aware that Prof. WooilburylEias already written a very Instructive treatise ot 145 pages on the subject, and which any ! one may obtain by remitting 10 cents to his address. Prof. Wcodbury’s fame-has now become so well established that he Is busy with his patients day in and day out and can give no further time to literary work. Ho Is the President of the Dermatological Institute, No. 125 West Forty-second street, New York City, which Is tho largest establishment of the kind in the world.

THINGS WORTH KNOWING.

A simple toothache preventive ia the using of the flour of sulphur as a tooth wash, Rub the teeth and gums with a rather stiff brush, using the sulpher after each meal, or aftei supper only. It preserves and cleanses the teeth, correcting all bad odors from the mouth. By adding a little pearlash to a soap lather, faded ribbons placed therein will-be restored to their natural color. Faded breadths of silk can be restored if treated to a bath of the above named ingredients. To clean kid or leather gloves, wash them with soap and water, then stretch them on wooden hands, or pull them into shape without stretching them; next rub them with pipe clay or yellow ochre, or a mixture of the two of any required shade made into paste with beer. Let them dry gradually and, when about half dry, rub them well so as to smooth them and putr them into shape. Then dry brush out the superfluous color'., cover with paper and smooth with a warm iron. Other color than the ochre can be mixed with the pipe clay.^ The Paris method of cleaning kid gloves is as follows: Put the gloves on your hands and wash them as though you were washing your hands in some spirits of turpentine until quite dean; then hang them up in a warm place, or where there is a current of air, and all smell of turpentine wiH be removed. | ' A splendid jet polish for harness, boots, satchels and all leathern articles is made as follows; Dissolve three sticks of the best blach sealing wax in one half pint of spirits ol wine. Put in a glass bottle, shake well previous t« using, and applv with a soft sponge. To make black sealing wax, pur ebase three pounds of the best black resin and one pound of finely povr dered ivory black. Melt the whole together over a slow fire and porn into sneks, To render fit for lettei use add, while soft, a quarter of ii pound of Venice turpentine.

paused within sight of the goal."'Able physicians have brought to this science all" the wealth of their experience and knowledge, and if any one suffers td-day through facial blemish, It Is his or her own fault. ! Foremost among the who have made undeniable triumphs In dermatology is John 11. Woodbury,