Bloomington Telephone, Volume 8, Number 8, Bloomington, Monroe County, 5 July 1884 — Page 6

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- Baxiy morning oc late mt night? ; tream, perharp, kneel ng down on the litis . . ; Of a flying nun's eyesigbt. rOvM- and ever I bfard the rata Orer and over I waked to ee The blase of the lamps as again and again its stare insetted me. Tfcro is so Ion when a man is dead ! Borne one sews; and the room is made Tery elean; a d th- light is shed 8oft through the window-shade. Yesterday I thought: "Iknow Jnst h w the hells 'will sonndt and how JUeds will talk, and the pennon go, And the heeiso horse bow and bow r Tbisisto-day; and I have nothing : . To think of notning whatever to do . Bat to lwr the throb of the poise of a wing ''; That wants to fly baok to yon.

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; JllDSON'S Bul -Oh, here is Jndson's bill, Maria, just thirty-fire dollars. He paid me last sight," said George Dwight, hand lag Ida wife a rollci crisp bills as they both rose from their early breakfast Then kissing her and leaving a good-by for his two boys, he left the house to take the train for the city, arid his brisk, firm tread echoed down the gravel walk. : She unrolled and smoothed out the iiotes with a sense of thankfulness and satisfaction. Theyere far from rich, and this money, hardly and honorably earned, typified to her, comforts, necessaries and charities. When she rose from the table she carried the money into the pantry, and pot into one of the celery glasses on the second shell She always had a feeling M added responsibility when she had money in charge in George's absence-

She waa a brisk, pretty little body,

deal of Tim about Her, ana it

notions before the dishes were

washed and the room tidied. Then she went on t to feed the half -dozen white

Leghorns. Coming back, she stopped toaeehow matters were progressing in the garden. The beans and peas and lettuce were doing finely, and the tomato plants be-

to look quite sturdy, but sue

with vexation, that the currant

wore destroying the bushes.

I must get," she thought, "some hellet4ay. :V When she came into the house again, fce heard Eddy and Larry awake up 'Ha ii ii, and went up to help the rosy, healthy little fellows dress, who soon

eacae down so tneir oreaKiasa 01 orma and milk, after which they went out

into the yard to play.

After airing and making beds, sue

..t

5 "a

,nr M a. cmnd timA to ftlin

. i. ill 9 4 AV LlUk

e lwrh th t thirtr-ftm dollars! Knenev-

I: could leare it in the house during

Hjher absence. Supposiiig a tramp should

1

l-

innenalonir? There had been one

: Nine unwif wiwiw n jvniiig, umvlf 4i6eed creature, with vile and wolfish iass and brutal mouth, and it was not M reassuring to think of him as yet in the feiiSnity. f: r ; A little round pocketbook of Eddy's, luffed with a red ribbon, lay on the win&ilL She took it up, placed the & bOls in it and thrust it down deep in Jffther pocket Ooeasionly she gave it a furfare pat as she went down the street io convince herself of its safety. fj She wondered how it was that George iisoQld thrust rumpled bills so unconosniedly in his vest-pocket, and never :fejeem to give them a single thought! v V She got the hellebore, came home 'H ' and prepared the mixture to sprinkle l lhe currents. That work finished to hear satisfaction she went in to peel f aesne potatoes to make cream-potatoes

deftly; she had pretty, dimpled

uner nnsrera. The dark

oak table and the yellow pipkin were

of harmonious tints, and she made a home-like picture with the brindle cat by bar side and the sunshine streaming in on her neat blue calico. She laughed merrily as she took the littie pocketbook from her pocket, for the porpftse of laying it for a few moments on the mantle-pieca iIfsssieeixotighm she said; "but I'm son if I had a thousand dollars in my sole charge for a day, George would .come home to find me a lunatic She had barely finished the potatoes, when an over-crrown. freckled girl

walked in through the open door without ceremony, and sat down., . M6rnin', Bia she said. 1 "Good morning, Miry," she answerkindly. "And how are you and the vest of the folks this morning?9 Oh, everybody's well enough. Aunt Emrire's baby had the colic last night, but he's all right now. Peelin'pertaters, As this fart was sufficiently perceptible, Bia made no answer; she was secreily wishing that Mary, poor girl ! had better manners. Mary was her halfsister her father's daughter, who, t ; sinc her orphanage, had been living ? with hex mother's sister, an ignorant woman, who was letting her, after the manner of Topsy, grow. She was not a very lovable or agreeable child ; she was rather sly, very prying and very conceited, but she' had a : wonderfully kind heart, and would ' fetch and carry for those of whop she - was fond like any Spaniel. ' ''It's awful nice out to-day,w she said, in the pleasant, soft voice that was one of her few agreeable characteristics. "Pre started to go up to TaUman's med - . der for strawberries. George Dunn said there were oceans of 'em there. Don't

you blieve, Bia! Jennie Dunn has a new dross a pink-sprigged lawn. I wish I had a new dress. I s ever get nottan'like I used to, senoe mother died. "Oh yes, Mary; your aunt dresses yepuput nicely, but she does not want to spend yon? money carelessly. She ' is very honorable about trying to save it until yon are are grown up." "I don't care for that, Bia; she's aw- . fal mean about lettin' me have even a

penny. I just wish I could have money when I want it Say, now, haven't you

some molasses cake you want to out? 1

have never had none sence mother died

thai tastes like her'n but vourn.0

JlilMaria knew Mary was a little gour-

. bat her firentle Heart was toucnea

think the child craved some cake

that her mother used to make; so

potatoes being finished, she set the

pipkin on the table and threw the peelings into piggy's pail that Btood outside the door "I guess I can find you some1 she said, cheerily, going down the outer cellar stairs. She was hardly as quick about doing it as she had intended. There were some crumbs on the floor that must be swept up, and while she was down there, she thought she had. better turn back the edges of the. cream, in the pans that it might not get bitter. But at last she cut some generouci squares from the amber molasses cake on the shelf, and came with it up the inside stairs. Mary, who was standing by the mantle, started as if frightened and colored all up; then she crossed quick!? to the door and took up he:r basket i "Here is yourcake," said Maria. "But hadn't you better stay, dear, and lunch with us r "Oh no, no!" said Mary, hastily. I couldn't, I couldn't! I'm goin' strawberryin'.w She fairly darted out of the door. "Poor girl V9 said Bia, vith the pitying sigh with which she often spoke cf her. Just then old Mis. Gorham, with her full-moon face and wheezing from very corpulency, came into the yard and up to the house. She sank into the rocker and untied her bonnet-strings. "How de do ! What's the noos ?" she psnted. This was her regular salutation. She could ;no more have omitted the second interrogation than the first. A world without news would have been to her a vast Sahara. Maria remembered Mir. Atlee had told her that old Mr. Dobt s had caught his right leg in the threshing-machine yesterday afternoon, and that his ankle was badly broken. This news, bad as it was, had an enlivening influence on the old lady. 1't gave her a scope for asking all manner of questions concerning the affair, until having worn the topic threadbare, she munched some cake with gusto and casually inquired the price of Eddy 's new hat, as she was a very cormorant in pursuit of knowledge, even the mout triflings, pertaining to her neighbor, It was quite two hours before she waddled away, a good-natured old busybody, and then it was Inch time. Afterwards Maria carried a pail of water to the handsome Alderney, tethered in the clover-lot south of the housa, fed the pig, and then coming in, siit contentedly down to her sewing. All at once she started up and wen t to the mantle-piece. "What a careless creature I am!" she said. Then she turned pale; searched her pocket, her work-basket, the pa a try; lighted a lamp and went looking carefully down the cellar, only to come up flurried and frightened. The pocketbook with M Judson's bill" in it was missing ! Could Eddy or Larry have seen it? But no! when she called them in from their play to ask, it was plainly evident that neither of them had seen the little round pocketbook tied, with the red ribbon. She went carefully over all tbe transactions of the morning. "I went after hellebore; 1 had it then! I went to peel potatoes; I had it then! I laid it on the mantle-piece, meaning to put it under the table-clothe on the pantry shelf. I forgot it and it is gone!" Mrs. Gorham! It was ridiculous to think of her touching it Mary! and then a black, ugly thought clutched Maria's heart and left her faint and giddy. It seemed lor the moment as if something snapped in her head. She looked again and again into impossible places; even lifted up the oil cloth boside the chimney, thinking it might have fallen and been somehow pushed under; but no pocketbook rewarded her search, and she could think pf nothing but Mary's startled movement from the mantle and her burning, suffusing blush! She went out and sat down on the stoop. Larry came to her, trying to be brave; he had a splinter in his little tanned thumb; she must take it out. For a wonder he did not mind his shiver, or praise his courage. "Never mind such a little hurt," she said. "There are hurts that are far Trorse." 'J hen she caught him to her with a sudden, passionate cry. "Much as I love you, Larry, I'd rather dig your grave with my own hands to-day than have you grow up to do bad, wicked things! to lie! to to steal f Hts whimpered as she let him go; he

was not used to such sudden outburs ts from his meny, oheerful little mother. Maria's eyes wandered to the current bushes. She felt no solicitude about them now She did not heed the cook and hens who were scratching in the onion-bed, but she mechanically marked a measuring-worm looping his odd way along the step. "My father's daughter my sister thief a thief!" was her mental cry. Mary was curious ; she had seen the pocketbook, examined and coveted the wish had been followed by ths criminal deed! Oh, if she had only never placed the money there never put the temptation in Mary's wayl She herself was partly to blame. It was queer how now so many little, almostforgotten facts about the child revived and came buzzing like a swarm of bees into her brain. There was the time Mary shut heirself up in the store-closet to pilfer sweot rusks; that other time when she took George's pencil-sharpener; and there was Eddy's ten-cent piece that she had picked up and kept ! Maria had meant to talk to her seriously about these things, but she had somehow put it off, and now it was too late. Oh, the poor wicked, wicked child! Anger, compassion, sorrow, shame, tore Maria's heart. The worm had looped his way across the step and vanished, and she became suddenly conscious that Eddy and Larry were clamoring for something to amuse them. "Get you -basket, she said, "and we will go strawberry ing." She meant to follow Mary at oncse and confront her with the accusation. She longed for wings to fly, fell was to impatient to meet the erring ""bhiLi. Eddy and Larry felt that she hurried them needlessly. They wanted to stray hither and thither, to stop at the bridge and skip stones, or watch the Caddioe flies skipping on the water, or the min

nows disporting in the shallow depths. It was a beautiful day. The sky was, a blue realm of purity; the air was as soft as an infant's breath ; buttercups and daisies starred and gemmed the roadsides; but Maria was careless of it all. They came across old Mr. Slocum ditching his marshy ground. He stopped to talk with them, leaning idly on his spade. He was willing to be loquacious, for his work was not pressing, but Maria was in no mood for conversation. What did Mr. Slocum with his easy good-nature know of her troubles? He had never had a thief in his family never! What would he say now if she should say, "I am in a hurry; my sister Mary stole thirty-five dollars from me this morning!19 She could imagine his look of blank consternation. "Pshaw; now you don't mean it?w he'd say. She actually believed she was losing her wits and might say it, so he hurried on. She trembled with nervous excitement as she followed the cowpath that wound among the elder and sumach bushes, with a thin little stream of water tinkling its rhythm alongside. She actually laughed as they came out upon the broad expanse of the wild strawberry lot and saw nothing there but a dirty-faced boy, the bees humming in the clovers, and the swallows skimming overhead. "No there hadn't bin no girl, nor nothin9 there, sence he'd come," the boy said in answer to her inquiry. He seemed to resent their intrusion and looked wrathfully at the children; probably if their mother had not been with them, the pasture lot would have become a battle-ground. The afternoon was nearly passed when the cbildron were willing to turn their faces homeward. Maria was miserable. Shecculdnot go to Mary's Aunt Eunice's now, for the chores had to be done and dinner got ready for George, Oh, if she only needn't tell George about Mary taking the money to-night! He was quick to condemn bitter when roused. He would go right down and have no mercy on the poor, erring child, and he would tell Aunt Eunice, who always told everything even her own family secrets, fr she was one of those women who must prattle, even if it be about herself; and Mary would be branded forever and her feet be set who knew in what descending paths ! It was terrible! terrible! The children went gracefully about their allotted tasks. Eddy unloosened the gentle Alderney from her tether and led her into her comfortable stall. Larry ran to feed the chickens, and Maria went to get the meal for the little porker who was grunting greedily in his pen. He was a voracious fellow, like all of his kind, and she watched him for a moment. "I don't wonder," she said, litlessly looking down, "that Circe transformed Ulysses' gourmands into swine." Then she gave a choked cry. "Larry, come here quick ! Climb over in the pen and pick up that!w Jjarry obeyed readily, and fished out of the litter at the head of the trough a little round, dirty pocket-book. She caught it from him with a hysterical laugh. "That's it! that's it!" she cried. "It's Judson'sbill!" She opened it with trembling fingers. The crisp notes seemed fairly to smile up at her. "Thank the Lord!" she said, brokenly. "Why, I never could have put it on the mantle never! and I was perfectly sure I did ; ancf Mary never even saw it I had thrown it out in the potato-peelings, and if the pig had destroyed it, I should always, always have thought she had taken it. I might have ruined her life. Poor child ! poor child!" "Where ignorance is bliss 'tis folly to be wise." Mary never knew with what a elf-reproachful heart Maria, as a faint reparation for her unjust suspicions, baked the next morning a delicious molasses cake and sent it to her by Edy. The good-natured girl took it with surprised delight. "How awful good of Ria!" she said. Then she hesitated a moment as Eddy turned to go. "Eddy," she called. "Well, Aunt Mary?" "Eddy, I want you to tell Bia that I broke the foot off that china matchsafe on the mantle, yesterday. I put it tinder again; but when she finds it out she might think you or Larry broke it Tell her I'm sorry." She did not add that she had meant Ria should think some one else had done it. Since she had confessed, it was not necessary to Bay more. Maria merely nodded when Eddy told her. She could not care much about such a trifle as a twenty-five-cent match-safe after her experience of the previous day. Still, she was glad that Mary had had honor enough to tell the truth about it and she saw now what had caused her extreme confusion yesterday and more than ever was she smitten with self-r,eproach. "This has been to me a lesson for a life time," she said. Youth's Companion. Minnesota Forest Begions. The Big Woods of Minnesota are rightly named, for they cover 5,000 square miles, or 3,200,000 acres of surface. These woods contain only hardwood growths, including white and black oak, maple, hickory, basswood, elm, cottonwood, tamarack, and enough other varities to make an aggregate of over thirty different kinds. The hardwood tract extends in a belt across the middle of the State, and surrouding its northeastern corner is an immense pine region covering 21,000 square miles, or 13,440,000 square acres. The only thing that has been taught successfully to women is to wear becomingly the fig-leaf they received from their first mother. Everything that is said and repeated for the first eighteen or twenty years of a woman's life is reduced to this: "My daughter, take care of your fig-leaf;" "your fig-leaf becomes you ;w "your fig-leaf does not become you.1' Diderot Integkity is a virtue which seeks and needs no costumer.

A PRESIDENT'S BEAUTIFUL WIDOW.

A Visit to the Home f Mrs. James K. Polk. Bight in the heart of Nashville stands a large old fashioned homestead of dull-red brick, its roof projecting over the broad piazza, supported by great fluted pillars, and its general aspect conveying an impression of severe statehness in pleasing variance with the same neighborhood. A long lawn stretches in front of the house, and its pleasant green monotony is unbroken save by a plain massive tomb of white marble which carries its own best epitah in the simple inscription of James K. Polk. A ring at the bell brought to the door a good natured colored girl, who took our cards to the venerable and venerated widow of President Folk. A woman like Mrs. Polk is a revelation to the beauties of old age. Gentle benevolence, broad -reaching charity, ripe experience and a cultivation of mind that extends beyond letters of mankind shine through her conversation, and her ready 'memory, keen wit and a store of reminiscence illumine it. Sixty years ago at the time of her marriage, Mrs, Polk was considered remarkable for her beauty, and twenty years after when she presided at the White House it was so fresh and unimpaired as to attract great admiration, and be notek in the published works and private journals of distinguished foreigners. Time, of course, has stolen the vivid coloring and curved outlines of youth, but he has not robbed her of the upright figure and dignified carriage, and left brightness in her eyes and vivacity in hervoice, besides lending an added charm to her faultless manners . Crowned with eighty years of honor she rose to receive us, and I am not ashamed to say, that something like dimness came over my eyes at the sight of this brave widow who for nearly half a Century has lived happy in the thought that every day tfs it passes brings her one nearer to her beloved husband. We all have our little joke about widows, but it dies on the lips when you see one, who : ike Mrs. Polk, exemplifies the beauty of fidelity. From the library of the dead President she can gaze upon the tomb that marks his resting place, and in that same library remain his hat, gloves and cane, just where he laid them when he came home for the last time. The book he was reading lies open on the table, and the papers of the day beside it. In society, and fond of it, Mrs. Polk has yet never accepted an invitation since her husband s death, though with graceful hospitality and tact she has received on the first day of each year the Tennessee Legislature, which adjourns in a body to call upon her and which I am told is the highest compliment ever paid by State authorities to a lady and the civic, judicial and ecclesiastical bodies make it a point to pay their respects to her. "Cress" in Cincinnati Enquirer. The Dismal Swamp. This little-visited district, on the borders of Virginia and North Carolina, derives most of its celebrity from the ballad written by Tom Moore at Norfolk on a supposed legend of a distracted lover who fancied that his lost mistress had gone to the Dismal Swamp, and paddled her white canoe over the waters of Lake Drummond. When Mr. Wirt laid cut the boundary line of tbe State he described the swamp as forty miles wide and twenty broad, with a black deep soil, covered by a stupendous forest of juniper and cypress treea, while below was a thick entangled undergrowth of reeds, woodbine, grapevines, mosses, and creepers interlaced and complicated. But man has wrought great changes since this account was given. The Dismal Swamp Canal, connecting the Elizabeth a:ad Pasquotank rivers, now traverses the district for twenty miles, while another runs from Lake Drummond to the Nansemond Biver. The first attempt to drain the swamp was made by a company organized by General Washington after the close of the Revolutionary War; but although the original design of reclaiming the land was never carried out, the land company realized enormous profits from the lumber it took out. Immense quantities of staves, shingles, and the like have been sent from the thick dark groves, and to-day most af the valuable gum, juniper, cypress, and white pine has been cut. The undergrowth is varied and luxuriant; reeds prevail everywhere, and to the south form a sea of verdure. The soil is deep and soft, and large quantities of fallen trunks have been taken from beneath the surface, where they have been preserved by the antiseptic qualities of the water. The water of Lake Drummond and the swamp in general is dark colored lika coffee, but is pleasant to the taste, and will keep pure for a long time. The spongy nature of the soil renders road-making a difficult task, and the

c first railroad engineer almost despaired

of success. The mule roads are simply logs laid side by side, over which the shingle-carts pass. The swamp is intersected by some ridges elevated above the watery level which constitutes the greater part of the region, and on them the harder kinds of timber grow. These portions of the swamp are, perhaps, susceptible of being reclaimed. As to the rest, numerous schemes since tha t of Washington have been proposed for making it available for cultivation, and for using the upper bog surface for fuel resembling the peat so commonly cut from the bogs of Ireland and of Scotland. About six months ago there were some notices published of a new enterprise looking to the reclamation of this enormous tract of land. The field is a large one, and modern appliances for draining large areas of water-saturated land have been go perfected that it is probable that success will, to a certain extent, crown the efforts of the society making the attempt. Harper's Weekly. The marval is that, considering their miserably superficial education, which fits them for nothing ia this world or the next,, women stand on bo high a plane as they now do. It only shows what mother wit has done for them. No pure, noble womanhood can come from the present order of society.

There oan be found no grand men without grand mothers. Therefore, thisIk public had better look to its women. Beauty and style and veneered accomplishments do not make a woman. Kate Field. The Government of London. We are apt to think of London as a sir gle, vast city, covering a wide area and teeming with a population of four millions of souls. What we do not realize is, that London, while geographically a great and compact mass, is, politically speaking, simply a combination of a large number of separate towns, each partially independent, in government, of the others. What is called "the city of London" is but a very small part of the metropolis. The "city" comprises only about a square mile, and has a population at night of only about fifty thousand. It is this small section, consisting mainly of the business and financial quarter of Londpn, which is ruled over by the Lord Mayor and Corporation. Otherwise London is divided up into a large number of parishes, which are governed by "vestries," and into boroughs, like Westminster and Southwark, which have still another kind of government. There are one or two "Boards' indeed, which exercise their functions throughout the whole area of the metropolis. These are the Board of Works, which establish the roads, make regulations for health, and look after the sewerage, water, and so on ; the School Board, which presides over the national schools, and the Board of Police Commissioners, who manage the police force of the entire city. Justice is meted out in the larger part of London by police magistrates, who are appointed and salaried by the State. But in the "city" proper the Lord Mayor and Aldermen are the magistrates without pay. The many evils attendant upon the divided government of London have long been recognized; and nbw a bill has been introduced into Parliament changing the various local and independent systems, and combining London under one central system. This measure proposes, indeed, to make London a sort of municipal federation, which we may compare with the United States. The Lord Mayor, chosen, not as now, by a small body in a single locality, but by the representatives of the whole metropolis, will find his authority extended throughout its limits. The Board of Aldermen is to be abolished, and a Common Council chosen by and for all London. At the same time each parish and borough is still to have a local body, acting under the general one, and managing its local affairs, just as do our States under the general Government

at Washington.

The present Corporation of the "citv

is thus made the basis and nucleus of the new single government which is to hold sway, not over fifty thousand, but over four millions of people. In making this great change, the Cabinet propose that the people to be governed shall have a much larger share in electing their civic rulers than they have hitherto had, either in the "city" or in the parishes. The government of the "city" has always been chosen by the "livery-men" and the various trade guilds. Now, the mass of those who are interested in the conduct of municipal affairs will have a voice at the polls as to who shall assume it. All the important functions, in short, of municipal rule except poor relief, education, and police, are to be given to the new corporation. The Council thus created is to consist of two hundred and forty members, this entire body being elected every three years. Of these, the "city" proper will have thirty members. The Lord Mayor will be elected by this Council, and will be paid such salary as it ' chooses to vote him. Each of the old vestry districts will have its "District Council' all the powers of which will be derived from the general Common Council, and the members of which will be chosen by the voters of the locality itself. Such are the main features of the scheme for the union of London into one great central government. Youth's Companion. Reigning: Sovereigns. The following table of royal sovereigns is taken from the Gotha Court Calendar, the most accurato authority on such matters. The list gives the years of their accessions and their age at the present time : Acc-8sion. Age. Dom T edro IT., B azll 1831 58 Will sm, Brunswick 1831 78 V.ctorl, Great Brit in mr 65 Erae t L, fcaxe Coburg 1844 65 George, Waltlock 1845 53 F ancis Jost-ph I, Austria 1848 53 William III., the Netherlands. 1849 7 Fred r ck- Ba e ; 1852 67 Pear. Od nbnrg 1853 56 Charles Alexander, yxe-Veimer..,. 853 66 Ern Bt, x -Al enbarg... 1853 58 Charle II., Monaco 156 66 John IL, Lie ht nste n 1858 44 remvie XX 1., Keuss Greiz r-5J 32 Ni.h-i.88, Monti negro 860 4 Fr di ick W Uii.ii), . tr li z 18G0 64 Adolph, Schaumbu g I860 67 Willuml, irussta 1861 87 Louis I , Portugal 1S61 45 George L, (f ceoe 1863 38 Chris an XI , D nmaik 1863 66 It uis IL, Bavaria 1864 h9 Charl s I., Wrrbembu g 1864 6 LeoiOldlL, B Igium ............186 49 i h rles, Romania. . , 1866 45 Geo j. eII.,Save-3Mt iiiinii n 1866 58 H nry XIV., Reuss-SehUi 1S57 5. Mi an I., ServH 1868 ao O orge, 6chw?rzburg Rudolphtadt.1869 46 William, Germany 1871 87 Frlfedri.k, An aU , 1871 63 OoarlL, bwo en 1873 56 Altert, K xeny , 1873 50 Alfona XII., 8 ain 1874 26 Wo der a r, Lippe De mold 1875 50 Abdul Uaraid, Turkey 1876 41 La wig IX, Hessa ,..1877 46 Humbert I., Italy 1878 40 L oXIIi., lope, 1878 74 L arks, Schwarzburg-S.inderhaus-

( pea iw 54

Alexand r DL, Ruia 1881 39 Fr.dcriCk Francis 111., Schwerin...,1883 83 Boston Way. "Now," said the Boston school teacher, 41 the question I am about to put to you is an extremely difficult one, and to answer it correctly you will be obliged, metaphorically speaking, to imitate the trunk conformation of tbe dromedary of the desert." A Western school teacher would have put the question and said, simply : "No w hump yourselves." Somerville Journal. Women are admitted as students into the Toronto Provincal University, the leading seat of learning in Canada.

THE FAMILY DOCTOR.

In rheumatic fever the skin of a patient in particularly sensitive and you may cause a chill which may have a bad effect; better wait in another room for a few minutes. There is no complaint which requires so much gentleness as this, A person in health can form no idea of the suffering. There is not only racking pain in ever joint, but a dread of being touched, or of the slightest breath of air. Even when not within three or four feet of the patient he will cry out to you not to tread upon him. The banging of a door, shutting down violently, letting anything fall All sudden noises must be carefully guarded against. The Care ov Children. The little children die rapidly in all the large cities during the heated term. To prevent this as far as possible attention to the following rules will be found useful: 1. An infant should not be weaned between May 1 and Octeber 1, if it can be avoided. All children under 2 years should be kept in pure cool air as much as possible. 3. The great mortality among infants is mainly due to diarrheal diseases saused by errors in diet, heat and impure air. Beware of over feeding; it is not necessary to feed an infant to quench thirst; a little pure, cold water is often much better for the child than milk 4L Do not use any patent infant foods except when prescribed by a physician. Do not use any complicated nursing bottles having tubes and joints unless extra precautions are taken as to cleanliness. A common twelve-ounce bottle with a nipple of black rubber is satisfactory. As soon as used the bottle and nipple should be thoroughly rinsed and then kept entirely under water till again wanted. They should never be allowed to get dry. 5. The food for infants recommended by the New York Board of Health in the best and cheapest. It is prepared an follows : "Boil a teaspoon ful of powdered barley (ground in a coffee grinder) and half a pint of watery with a little salt, for fifteen minutes, strain and mix with it half as much boiled milk, add a lump of white sugar size of a walnut, and give it lukiswarm. For infants five or six months old give half barley water and half boiled milk. For infants very costive use oatmeal instead of barley, cooking and straining as above." 6. Give well children an all-over wash or bath with cool water twice a day; Give them as much fresh air as possible and keep them cool, but be careful that in a sudden fall of temperature they do not get chilled. Light flannel clothing nest to the skin is better than cotton. 7. Beware of bad smells about the house, but remember that it is not the smell itself that is dangerous, buii wbat it is a sign of, and, therefore, ttry to discover and remove the cause of the smell, whether it be a leaky soil pipe, a foul sink or garbage box, a filthy cellar, or gutter, or what not. 8. If a child has diarrhea, conduit a physician at once, and do not waste time with domestic remedies. 9. Let those who have no children to care for try to help the thousands who have, but who are too poor to give them a chance for life, by taking them where they can have a few hours enjoyment of fresh, pure air. Irish World. The Uerodian Family The Herodian family occupy a not very enviable position in the sacred Scriptures. Herod the Great, King of the Jews, was the second son of Antipater and Cypros, an Arabian lady of noble decent, 2nd was born at Ascalon, Judea, about the year 72 before Christ. At an early age he obtained the Governship of Galilee, broke up the hordes, of robbers that then infested the province, and put many persons to death en his own authority, which caused him to be summoned before the Sanhedrim cn complaint of having killed Jewish citizens without trial. His judges were awed by the martial host that came with him to the trial, and by intimidation he secured an acquittal He enjoyed the support of Brutus and Cassius, Mark Anthony, and Augustus, the latter confirming him in his kingdom. He still pushed himself forward; had Hyrcanus put to death on the charge of treason; his own wife was murdered, as well as her two sons, and several near relatives and chief counselors, A fearful disease was consuming him in the latter part of his reign, and it was then he ordered the execution of his son and the massacre of the children at Bethlehem. The murderer of the innocents, in anticipation of his death, gave orders that the principal Jews, whom he had shut up at Jericho, should immediately after his decease be put to death, that mourners might not be wanting at his funeral Herod was married to no fewer than ten wives. According to the custom of the times, he made his sons the heirs to his kingdom by a formal test amen t, leaving its ratification to the Emperor; so Archelaus became Tetrarch of Judea, Samaria, and Idumsea; Philip of Trachonitis, and Ituraa; and Herod Antipas, of Galilee and Perstea. There followed this Herod a numerous brood of whom tho less said the better Intel Ocean, Why She Thought So. He was a Somerset Club young man and she a saucy damsel from a town In the Old Colony. He had been "doing the English" for her benefit, until her patience was exhausted, and she turned upon him with this remark: "Mr. X., you are English, I suppose?" Oh! nah,1' he replied, with an air of great delight "Now aw what made aw yer think thatf-' "Oh," she returned, with a bewitching toss of her pretty head, "the English are so ill-bred, you know." Boston Courier Continual fault-finding, dissatisfaction, and irritabbness on the part ot heads of households has done more to drive young men from home evenings to places of ill repute in search of pleas ant company than any other thing. That father or mother who takes up the evening in lecturing tjjte boy, or who is continually bewailing their lot and never satisfied wit that which the son mav have provided and worke d hard to get for them ; that father and mother are digging their own grave of sorrow with the spade of discontent and fault-finding and are urging, the bov to act as paU-bearer and not as mourner. Peck's Hun.

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