HomeMy WebLinkAboutLucknow Sentinel, 1905-09-28, Page 3i
!
CEYLON TEA. It is positively the finest in
the world.
Sold in lead packets. 40, 50, 60c per lb. By all grocers.
in tea judgment so long a$
your faith to
=
LOVE AND A TITLE
very
silent
said.
“Cold 1 ” exclaimed Hal—“ it’s
hot.”
The princess glanced downward,
for a moment.
“ It is very hot in here,” she
“Good-bye, papa.”
And she stood on tiptoe, and kissed
him.
The prince held out his hand to Hal,
and he saw that he was seated at the
table and his book, almost before they
had turned.
The princess looked at Hal with the
questioning expression of a child anx
ious to glean his thoughts, but Hal star
red straight before him.
“Papa is always very busy,”
, very softly and slowly. “He
like this sunlight—it reminds
Italy.”
“Why doesn’t he go back
asked Hal, in his delightful blunt Eng
lish fashion.
“He cannot,” she said, quietly; “they
will not let him. Papa is banished.
Hal stared.
“He has offended the people in pow
er,” went on the princess, reluctantly—
“offands them still. All his friends
are banished; all those letters are from
the friends of liberty. You see, I
she said,
dees not
him of
there?”
From the soup to the dusty apples and
pears which /figure in the carte as “des
sert,” the table d’hote drags its slow
course to a conclusion, and, the ladies
having retired, the gentlemtn, one and
all, excepting the gentle Bell, begin
smoke. Hal feels in al his pockets
a cigar or a pipe, and is about to
quest Bell to order a cigar ,when
count, with a courteous little bow,
dressing Bell, says :
“Permit me to offer your young friend
a cigar,’ ’and passes his case.
“Thanks,” says Hal, in his direct fash
ion; and Bell, getting up to cough and
mope at a little distance from the clouds
smoke, Hal moves into his chair.
“This is a capital cigar,” he says in
his outspoken fashion, “the first decent
tobacco I’ve had since I left England.
Most fellows bring their tobacco with
them, but I wasn’t up to it. Some of the
stuff they smoke here is simply abom
inable; they grow it here in the fields,
and you see it lying about like heaps of
hay gone wrong. It nearly kills my
friend.”
to
for
re-
the
ad
And he looks at Bell sympathetic
ally.
The count with a little smile—which
adds another thousand or so wrinkles to
his face—shrugs his shoulders.
“Yes ?”
After a time :
“But one must put up with some draw
back in travel—is it not so ?” he says,
in that admirable English, which Rus
sians alone among foreigners acquire.
Hal nods.
“And if you can’t get tobaccco, one
can get English beer—the only drinkable
to be obtained.”
The count smiles, amused by this bit
play of British insularity.
“Perhaps,” he says, -with a little depre
catory gesture of the white hands, “you
have not tried the best of the German
■wines—Johannisberg, now.”
“No,” says Hal, who had never heard
of the king of Rhine wines.
“Suppose,” says the count, “we see if
our good landlord has a bottle.”
“I’ll order one, " says Hal.
The count serenery declares that he
will not allow him; Hal as emphatically
claims the honor of ordering it, and
eventually Bell is called from the window
to convey their joint wishes. In comes
the landlord, a little fat man, with dark
hair plastered to his head, and with huge
ears, also fiat, and adorned with rings,
and Bell in piping German, makes known
the requirements. The little man wad
dles off, returning with a bottle of Jo
hannisberg, which, with a profound bow
to the count, he uncorks, and, with sun
dry flourishes, pours out.
Bell takes a modest sip, and with trem
bling eyelids, mildly declares-that it is
good; Hal more vigorously pronounces
it “something worth drinking,” and the
count, with innumerable wrinkles, smiles,
bows, strokes his mustache with his
white hand, and pronounces Hie words
“Very good”—which it ought to be, con
sidering mine host will charge over a
guinea for it.
Hal is never loath to talk, to one of
his own sort, at any time, and his tongue
loosened by the wine, chats away in the
best of humors, and is about to propose
another bottle, when a man—evidently
a servant—enters the room, and, with
a respectful inclination of the head, he
hands the count a letter.
“Pardon me, gentlemen,” says his ex
cellency, rising and opening it.
As he does so he drops the envelope,
and Hal, who is nearest, stoops and picks
it up. In handing it to him he sees
that it is stamped with an elaborate
crest and armorial bearings, and that the
address is in the thin, angular charac
ters which ladies—Heaven only knows
why—particularly affect.
The count reads his letter.
“Good, Fritz,” he says, “you shall bear
the answer. Gentlemen, good-evening,”
and, with a courtly bow, leaves the room.
“Really,” says Bell, with bland enjoy
ment, “a most polished old gentleman.
Quite one of the old school. Depend up
on it, my dear Hal, that travel is the
finest, indeed, the only way in which
one can gain experience and a knowledge
of the world. I’ve heard that a Rus
sian gentleman is the most high-bred
product of modern civilization-----”
“Yes,’ says Hal, cutting in ruthlessly,
“he’s a fine old fellow. I wonder what
he is—army man, I should think. Here’s
the landlord; ask him, Bell ?”
“My dear Hal, do you think—well,
well,” he says, being as curious as Hal
himself. “We were admiring his excel
lency-----”
“Ah, the count !” ejaculates the land
lord, shrugging his shoulders to the ears,
and blowing a vast cloud from his long
meerschaum. “Ah, yes, he is a great gen
eral—one of the old noblesse; but—”
and extends his hand—“but, alas I —
poor ! Poor as St. Christopher. It is a
pity, is it not ? But, Eth, well,” and he
wags his head philosophically, “he will
mend that, you will see ! Oh, yes, that
is for certain ! He will mend that.”—-
Bel would like to ask how, but another
fit of coughing, produced by the long
meerschaum, drives him from the room,
tod Hal, laughing, follows.
U Being thoroughly tired, Hal does not
lie awake that night thinking, neither
does he dream of the Princess Verona;
the only thing Hal dreams of being great
"takes” of trout; but it is certain that,
Etshe Scrubs away at his hair with two
(brushes, hard and stiff enough to groom
a dray-horse, he sees, mentally, the beau-
tfful face, with the large, dark eyes that
looked up at him so frankly that after-
poon, and once more feels that peculiar
dripping of cold water down the back
which he experienced as he cut into the
white arm with his penknife.
If anything, it is hotter than ever the
' next morning; every window in the ho
tel is open, and the stall-keepers are
busy, very busy, leading against the
posts and smoking wooden pipes calcul
ated to hold an ounce at a load.
Marvelously bright and fresh does Hal
look, in his light-brown jacket and his
knickerbockers; he has had a swim and
thrown a fly or two; he has had his
breakfast, which was composed of some
thing more substantial than the usual
rol and butter which in Germany consti
tutes that meal, and he has brushed his
closely-cut hair until it shines in the
morning sunlight as brightly as Jeanne’s.
The old fruit womaij shades her eyes
and looks after him Admiringly as he
goes down the white street; possibly
he reminds her of her own boy, who
now lies buried at Gravelotte in
his Uhlan uniform, with many of his
comrades around him!
At the corner of the street there
stands a little florist’s shop. Hal, with a
little, half- ashamed glance to the right
and the left, went in |nd purchased a
white azalea, which thejittle damsel be
hind the counter was kind DUUU6L :
range in his buttonhole, and then
on his way.
Past the church, down into the
up a long avenue of apple and
trees, and at last he stood on
grounds of the Villa Verona.
It was a long, low-lying pile of ma
sonry, gleaming white in the bright sun
light, and bearing about it the signs of
wealth and careful attention.
A huge St. Bernard, that was lying on
a terrace under the verandah, rose and
bounded toward him, evidently with the
intention of devouring him, but Hal put
out his hand and patted him, and the dog
was so surprised that he stopped growl
ing and wagged his tail, keeping, how
ever, very close to Hal as he ascended
the steps and rang the bell.
A tall manservant, dressed in black,
opened the broad glass door.
“Is the Princess Verona within?” ask
ed Hal.
The man inclined his head.
“Si, Senor,” lie replied.
(“I wonder whether he means “yes” or
‘no,” thought Hal.}
But the man evidently meant yes, for
he ushered Hal into the hall, which was
of white marble, with fluted columns,
and very large.
Hal gave the man his card, and while
it was carried in, amused himself looking
at the tall palms standing in nots of
majolica, and by conversing with the dog,
who still mounted guard’ beside’ him.
Presently the servant returned, and,
with a low bow and a gesture of the
hand, ushered him into a room at the
end of the hall. He had barely time to
take in its handsome proportions and its
tasteful decorations, when a door opened
and the princess came toward him.
1 i
says—"almost Ital-
you been to Italy
with rather a sad
DEADLY ANAEMIA
ead s to Consumption
Promptly Cured.
Many a young life might
from consumption if simple
were promptly treated.
Unless
be saved
anaemia
were promptly treated. Anaemia is
the doctors’ name for weak, watery
blood. When the blood is in this
strength.
to break
heijittle damsel be-
kind enough to ar-
i went
vale,
plum
the
CHAPTER XXV.
If the Princess Verona had .........
beautiful down by the vailey yesterday,
she appeared still more lovely to HaFs
eyes in her morning dress of white pique,
ex
its
„ ----- Halnoticed, in the half minute during which
he held her hand, that her hair was coil
ed tightly up to the shapely head, in the
English fashion, and that it was like silk
itself.
She met him without a shade of em
barrassment, but with a gentle smile of
pleasure, such as a young girl might
wear when welcoming an old friend.
“You have come,” she said; “it is
kind.”
Hal, looking particularly tall, and feel
ing hugely big and awkward—though he
didn’t really look it—murmured some
thing inaudible.
“I hope your arm is all right,” he said,
glancing at that member.
“Oh, yes, quite,” she replied, with a
little ripling laugh. “It was nothing,
not more than a pin-prick. And have
you made friends with Carlo?” she went
on, playng with the dog’s soft ear.
“Yes,’’ said Hal, “he is very friendly.”
“He is not always; sometimes he is
> strangers, aren’t
said Hal, and ° patted Carlo
4 T
looked
which was without ornamentation
cepting one crimson blossom on
bosom, and was simplicity itself.
of her conscience, closing her night si
lication with an act of contrition. There
is an hour of vigil kept on Thursday
night in memory of the Saviour’s agony
in the garden of Olives. In the silence of
midnight the veiled nun glides down the
dark passage of the chapel and there,
in the dim light of the sanctuary lamp,
prostrates herself in a long hour of
prayer.
When a Carmelite consecrates herself
to the cloister by solemn vows to God
she prostrates herself upon the earth un
der a black pall as dead to the world.
The habit she wears is also her shroud
and she is laid to her final rest with
feet all bare, as having followed Christ
in the path of poverty. When dying,
white roses are strewn over her virgin
eoueh and in death she is crowned with
flowers.
blood.
condition the lungs have no
The whole system begins
down. Then the growing girl slips
slowly into decline, until at last the
cough starts and her doom is sealed.
Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills can cure all
people without doubt
They actually make
health-giving blood—they
consump-
This has been proved in thou-
of cases. “ " — ‘ - - -
weak, anaemic
or difficulty,
new,
cure anaemia and prevent
tion. ‘ ’
sands
ran, Merritton,
Williams’ Pink Pills cured my daugh
ter Matilda, when I felt that her case
was almost hopeless. For more than a
year she was a sufferer from anae
mia. She gradualy grew weak, was
subject to violent headache, and dark
circles appeared under her eyes. She
was melancholy, had no appetite and
complained of being constantly tired.
At different times she was treated by
two doctors, but with no improve
ment. As her case progressed, she
was attacked by violent .palpitation
of the heart and a suffocating short
ness of breath. She had a deathly
pallor, took cold easily, and continued
to decline in weight, until I felt that
she was in a hopeless decline. At this
time my attention was called to Dr.
Williams’ Pink Pills, and I began giving
them to her. She had not been taking
the pills many weeks when her appetite
■was greatly improved, and this was the
first sign that they were helping her.
She continued the pills until she had
taken eight or nine boxes, when she was
again the picture of healthy girlhood.
Every symptom of her trouble had dis
appeared, she ' lias increased in weight,
and is strong and robust. Her recovery
is looked upon as marvellous, for the
doctors thought her case hopeless.
Dr. Williams’ Pink Pils will cure any,
case of bloodlessness just as surely as
they cured this case. The pale, anaemic
need only one thing—new blood. Dr.
Williams’ Pink Pills do only one thing
—they make new, rich, life-giving blood.
That is why Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills
cure all common diseases like anaemia,
headaches and backaches, indigestion,
the
and
the
wo-
...... .. The
genuine pills with the full name Dr. Wil
liams’ Pink Pills for Pale People on the
wrapper around each box. If in doubt,
send direct to The Dr. Williams Medi
cine Co., Brookville, Ont., and the pills
will be sent by mail at 50 cents a box,
or six boxes for $2.50.
rich,
Mrs. Edward Coch-
Ont., says: “Dr.
DRNK ON MOUNTAIN GAS.
People in Western Texas Need Not Re
sort to Liquor.
Hinter Mountain, in the Fort Davis
region of western Texas, appears to be
a most peculiar structure. This gigan
tic mass emits vapors that intoxicate the
adventurers who climb its summit.
When half way up the mountain the
climber becomes conscious of a perfume
like strong ozone, and this perfume is
no less deadly in its effects than the
:_4. constitnents of alcoholic
sooner has the climber
this morning, and ventured to bring a
few trout if—if you will be so good as to
accept them.”
“Thank you,” she says, opening the lid
and looking in. “Yes, there they are—
how pretty they look! Are you quite
Bure you can spare them? Papa will be
so pleased—he is fond of fish. I don’t
know why some people don’t catch
them—perhaps they don’t know how.”
“It is not very difficult,” says Haty
At this moment an elderly lady, dress
ed in black, enters, carrying a basket of
flowers.
The princess says something in Italian
to her, then turns to Hal.
“My friend, Senora Titella.”
Hal at once concludes that it is her
companion, and bows; and the lady goes
across the room with the flowers.
The princess walks to the window, and
draws aside the curtain.
“It is lovely,” she
ian weather. Have
yet?”
“No,” says Hal.
She looks at him
smile.
“Oh,” she says, “you must see Italy.
I am an Italian, and yet I am English.”
“Your father-----,” says Hal.
“Is Italian; my mother was English.
She—she died in England, and therefore
papa does not go to England?”
“I understand,” says Hal, softly.
The next instant the girl chases the
melancholy from her face.
“You are fond of flowers ?”
“Yes,” she says, looking at the azalea,
which makes Hal blush. “Come and see
the gardens,”
And she steps out on the terrace,
catching up a light straw hat as she does
so.
As Hal follows into the garden, he
notices that the companion has crossed
the room and stands at the window, with
a book in her hand.
It is a magnificent garden, worthy of
■ the villa. Velvety lawns, set with glit-
■ tering beds of flowers, whose colors are
1 contrasted with the pure white of mar-
1 ble statues and fountains. It is, in
fact, essentially an Italian garden, though
' Hal doesn’t know it.
1 The princess leads him through a mass
of garden paths to a nook, made cool and
shady by a grotto of ferns, over which
falls the spray of a hidden fountain.
1 . “This is a beautiful garden,” he says,
in his abrupt fashion. “Your highness
; ought to be happy.”
She had been plucking the ferns grow
ing near her, and looks up, with a fittle
smile parting her lips.
“Happy?” she said, as if his words had
called up a question in her mind. “Yes,
I suppose I am happy. But I am very
dull sometimes."
“Dull?” says Hal, looking at her sym-
pathetially out of his honest
“Yes, very dull,” and she
little sigh. “There is only
Titella—the lady you saw,
Papa is always with his
papers, and Titella—Titella is
about the house. ?
“Often.” he says.
“Tell me,” she says, in her
quisitive manner, which seems
and confiding to English Hal,
what do you do then?”
“Oh,” says Hal, “I—I—well,
ally go and shoot something,
my rod, or smoke a pipe.”
She laughs.
“There’s nothing to shoot here,” she
says, looking around, “excepting me; but
you can smoke your pipe, if you like.”
“But I’m not dull now, and I don’t
want to smoke; shouldn’t think of it,’
says Hal; “and—and
are ever dull!”
She smiles.
“I must learn to
must I not ?”
He laughs at the
staining those soft,
laugh seems catching, for she laughs, too.
As she docs so the companion comes out
upon the terrace.
Hal looks up, and the. princess, follow
ing his glance, turns suddenly grave and
rises.
“Will you come and see pa?” she says.
Hal nods, and offers to take the fish
ing-basket from her hand, but she puts
it behind her with the gesture of a child,
“No, I will carry this. They are mine
now, you know.”
Slowly they wind around the garden
toward another part of the terrace, which
surronds the house, and, ascending the
steps, stop at a window, which is closed,
and has the curtains drawn.
Then the princess, with her hand on
the window, looks around at him.
“Will you tell me your name again?*
she says. “Oh, 1 have not forgotten it,”
she adds, quickly, with an evident de
sire not to wound him; “but I am not
used to English names, and may have
made a mistake. Oh, here is the card,
but tell me.” ’
Hal laughs.
“Bertram—Henry Bertram,” he says.
“You say ‘Hal’—was it not ‘Hal’—Jasf
night ?”
“That’s what I’m always called,” he
says.
“I like it best,” she says, and opened
the window.
To Hal’s astonishment, he saw the
room within was lighted by a reading t
lamp, close to which sat a tall and won-
derfully thin old gentleman reading. i
The princess went up to him and laid > _of °!5ert!
her white hand on his shoulder; but it j
was quite a minute before he looked up, >
during which Hal noticed that a map of ;
Italy was spread out upon the table,
and that various plans—-of battlefields,’
he learned afterward—hung upon the
wall. A dispatch box stood beside the
table, and papers were littered over the
room. |Presently the Prince Verona looked up ]
and rose abruptly. .
“Papa,” said the princess, “this is
Mr. Bertram, whose fishing 1 so clum
sily spoiled yesterday: he has brought
me a present of some trout.”
The prince locked across at Hal, shad
ing his eyes, and bowed; then, as if by
an afterthought, held out his hand,
which was long, and as white as the
princess’ own.
“I am very pleased to see you, sir,”
be said.. “1 am afraid mv child disturb
ed -you yesterday?’ (Hal glanced in
stinctively at tne princess, and won
dered if the old man really did net real
ize that this beautiful creature was fast
growing into a woman.) “ Trout ?
yes; 1 thank you! It is very kind !
Are you. staying at Forbach ?”
“ Yes,” said Hal, “for a time.”
“Mr. Bertram is going to the castle—
to his sister, papa,” said the princess.
“The castle, you know.”
“Yes—yes,” said the old man. “Maz
zini once stayed there. Is it a fine day,
Verona ?”
“It is beautiful,” said the princess.
“It is very cold, I am afraid,” said the
tell
you because you are English, and the Fncrlish never KoL-.rmr ”
he
and
English never betray?'
“And the prince,” said Hal, “does
never go out—is he always reading
writing ?”
“Almost always,” she replied.
Then Hal looked at her, with a great
swell of pity gushing up in his heart.
Shut up in this place with an old man
who preferred lamplight to sunlight, and
never left his writing-table, and a wo-
» a cat—this
i
i
i
eyes,
smothers c
papa and
you know,
books and
busy
Are you never dull?”
little in-
so frank
‘ tell me,
I gener-
or take
yf
I’m very sorry you
shoot and smoke,
thought of a pipe
coral lips, and his
I
i
mad who watched her like
bright, lovely flower, with the artless
grace of a child. To Hal it
dreadful to be thought of.
“Oh, but I am very happy,” she said,
as if she—as she really did—read his
thoughts. ‘ ‘I have iny flowers, and
Carlo and Florida-----”
(To be continued.)
seemed too
MATERNAL INSTINCT OF FISH.
A Sense That is Apparently Wisely
Lacking.
“The female fish has no maternal in
stincts whatever,” according to the
superintendent, I. Nevin, of the Wis-_
consin State Fish Hatcheries. “In fact,”
he is quoted in the Milwaukee Wis
consin, “the fish is the most inhuman
creature in existence, that is, of the
animals which have any degree of in
telligence at all.
“Perhaps it is well that it is so, for if
the parent fish took care os their young
as other creatures do the waters of
the earth would be filled with them in a
very, short time. Under natural condi
tions not one egg in a million ever be
comes a fish a year old. As an example,
I have seen female brook trout go up
into the spawning places and spawn
their eggs and then turn around and deliberately eat them.
“For the past few years I haye been
much interested in experimenting with
bass and studying their ways. Here
the male parent has some maternal in
stincts apparently. He builds the ‘nest’
for the female, some little pocket with a
gravel bottom protected from the strong
current, but with plenty of fresh water,
and then hugs or pushes the female into .
it. The eggs are spawned by the female,
who swims away and leaves them to
their fate.
and then for a few days ■watches over ;
them, ‘fanning’ them occasionaly to '
insure a circulation of fresh water and
keeping off other fish who would devour
the eggs. The male fish have been
known to follow the little fry for several
days, protecting them until they were
able to care for themselves.
“I have seen a school of say 1,500 ’
bass fry devoured in five minutes, by a
few sun bass or perch minnows. Under
the care of the fish hatcheries from 50 ,
to 95 per cent, of the eggs become fish ?
fry. How rnary of the fry live to be
a year old or so after they are planted
in the streamse it is very hard to deter- ,
mine. It depends so greatly upon con- i
ditions that no reliable estimates can be ’
made,”
J
i kidney trouble, palpitation of
’ heart, neuralgia, nervous troubles
i those special ailments that make
; lives of so many growing girls and
I men miserable. Be careful to get
The male fertilizes the eggs !
ii
IF YOU WOULD PE
Be sociable.
Be unselfish.
Be generous.
Be a good listener.
Never worry or whine.
Study the art of pleasing.
Always be ready to lend a hand,
Be kind and polite to everybody.
Be self-confident, but not conceited.
Never monopolize tne conversation.
Take a genuine interest in other people.
Always look on the bright side of things.
Take pains to remember names and faces.
Never criticize or
others.
i Look for the good in others, not for their
i faultsi
Forgive and forgetget benefits.
Cultivate health, and thus
and ciurage.
Rejc
icess a
OVULAR.
I
say unkind things of
Ice as genuinely in
5 in your own.
injuries, but never for- (
radiate strength :
another’s sue- j
THE CARMELITES.
very disagreeable to 11__ _
you, Carlo? You like dogs?” fjoirl TTol --4.
again.
. “So do I,” she said, “English dogs, espe
cially. You have such nice dogs in Eng
land—better than anywhere else.” °
Hal colored with pleasure.
“You know England?” he said.
She shook her head. “No, I have never
been there.”
“No?” said Hal: “I
thought you had.”
“Why?” she asked, with a smile.
“Because you speak English so well.”
She laughed and shook her head gently.
‘That is a compliment. But indeed 1
do not. My sentences are all wrong,
papa says; he speaks English, oh, very well.” J
Hal nodded.
“I think Englishmen are the stupidest
fellows in the matter of languages,” he
said; “f----- \
meets knows anything but
tongue.”
“Ah, and why?” she said, quickly.
“Because it is spoken all over
world! ”
“What a lovely morning it is! Have
you been fishing?” and she glances at his
basket, which he carries in his hand.
“Yes,” says Hal; “I had capital sport prince, with a smiLs
should have
‘scarcely any Englishman
his
one
own
the
i Always be considerate of the rights and
feelings of others.I Have a good time, but never let fun de-
l generate into license.
> Having a jtind word and a cheery, encor-
■ aging smile for veryone.
Lear|i to control yourself under the most
■ tryingscircuirstances.
Be respectful to women, and chivalrous in
your attitude toward them.
Mee® trouble like a man, and cheerfully
enduro what you can’t cure.
J Belieye in the brotherhood of man and re-
I cognizf; no class distinctions.
Be ambitious and energetic, but never
benefit* yourself at the expense of another.
Do not bore people by telling them long,
tedious; stories, or by continually dilating
on your own affairs.—O. S. Marden, in Suc
cess Magazine.
TEETHING WITHOUT TEARS.
Mothers who have suffered the misery
of restless nights at teething time and
watched their babies in the upheaped ag
ony of that period, will welcome the safe
and certain relief that Eaby’s Own Tab
lets bring. Mrs. W. G. Mundle, York-
ton, N. W. T., says: “When my little
one was cutting her teeth she suffered a
great-deal. Her gums were swollen and
inflamed, and she was cross and restless.
I got a box of Baby’s Own Tablets, and
after starting their use she began to
improve at once, and her teeth came
through almost painlessly. The Tablets
are truly baby’s friend.” This medicine
' is guaranteed to contain no poisonous
opiate or harmful drug. It cures all
the minor ailments of little ones and’
may safely be given to a new born child.
Full directions with every box. Sold by
all medicine dealers or sent by mail at
25c. a box by writing The Dr. Williams
Medicine Co., Brockville, Ont.
I
Privations of the Order Graphically De
scribed.
Little of the life of a Carmelite nun 1
is known to the world this side the bars. '
Imagine eleven women entirely cut off ’
from the world outside living 365 days ‘
in every year of their lives in almost '
absolute silence, penance, fast and self- !
denial; every hour of the day and much ■
of the night spent in oft repeated pray- I
er, with no food except, the coarest; >
wearing rough woolen clothing next ’
their skins winter and summer, frequent- !
ly adding td. this disconifort sharp in- ,
struments of torture.
The order still retains the term “dis- I
calced,” which was applied in the early t
days when the nuns went barefooted, j
However, Saint Teresa, .on an occasion ! when she was travelling^ overheard a !
comphnent of a young cavalier on her
well turned ankle, and thenceforth she
ordained that the members of her order
should wear stockings. These are made
of rough wool, and are fashioned in a
loose baglike form. The dress of the
Carmelite is of coarse wool, with a
brown scapular, which reaches from the
throat to the hem of the garment. Over
white bands which frame the face is
worn a long black veil.
The Carmelite is received into the or
der robed in white like a bride, symbolic
of a spouse of Christ. Her bridal robes
are then discarded and with them all in
timacy with the world.
The day of the Carmelite nun begins
long before the world outside her clois
ter is astir. Their fast is broken at 5
o’clock with black coffee and bread eat
en in silence. Before the plate as an
only ornament in their refectory is a
human skull, reminding them to prepare
for death. They abstain from meat ex
cept in case of sickness, and fast rigidly
eight months in the year.
Following the morning repast, the
black robed nuns go to the chapel and
continue their long office of prayer. The
morning hours are filled with work on
vestments and scapulars. These nuns
are noted throughout the world for their
exquisite needelwork. One of their strict
est rules is that no one of them shall
ever be idle, and even when they are
ill, some bit of sewing is ever at their
side.s
"*he noonday meal of a Carmelite con
sists of two boiled vegetables, bread and
tea and sometimes codfish. Then, and in
the afternoon hours of prayer and labor,
no word of conversation is spoken. The
evening meal and the night prayer close
the day, and with the exception of a
little hour before retirement ■when the
nuns are allowed to talk, the day of sil
ence passes into a night of even great
er solitude.
The sleeping apartment of a Carmelite
is not much larger than a grave. The bed
is composed of two pine boards laid
across two wooden benches, a coarsq tick
filled with straw, a straw pillow, sheets
of Saxony wool, winter and summer, and
a brown woolen blanket. Above the head
of the bed is hung a wooden cross with
out an image to remind The Carmelite
that she herself must be attached to
the cross of Christ. A plain table, some- •
times a rough box turned on end, a
wooden chair without cushion and a pic
ture representing some saint or event
in the life of Christ, complete the ap
pointments of the cell.
After last chant,between 9 and 11 o’clock
in the nun makes a strict examination
intoxicating
drinks. No
reached the top than he staggers and
finally falls in a stupor on the rocks,
Men who
once are said to have returned again
and again to enjoy the sensation.
A mountain in Singaung, in upper
Burmah, is entirely covered with great
blocks of iron ore. Dr. Noetling, of
the geological survey of India, discov
ered that the mountain was magnetic,
the tremendous attraction rendering his
compass and watch useless.
There are undoubtedly a large number
of people in the world suffering from the
pangs of unrequited love, and to these
unfortunate persons it is interesting to
know that Dr. Martiner Reguera, of
Spain, has discovered a spring, the
waters of which will cure cases arising
from hopeless tender passions.
This extraordiary spring is situated
at Alanje, and the lovesick lass or lad
who walks into it is said to become wild
ly hilarious.
A spring was recently discovered by
an American medico in Mexico which
will cure those persons who are addicted
to drink. The doctor declares that he
cured a man who drank nothing but
whiskey for twenty years of his craving
for alcohol by his outward and inward
application of the spring waters.
There appears to be but one objection
to this rapid cure. The majority of
men and women who are fond of strong
drinks do not care to have their passions
removed by philters or douching.
The bark of the upas tree of Java is
over an inch thick and full of a strong
juice, the merest touch of which upon
the skin produces a most painful and
irritating rash.
The Java natives use this juice for
getting rid of their enemies. To satisfy
a private revenge they hide a bowl of it
in the room of a sleeper and by the moil
ing the victim has succumbed to its evil
effects. The fluid gives off a most pois
onous gas, which produces stupor and
finally death.
The “home of the hot devils’” is an
island of fire situated in the centre of a
huge lake of boiling mud and slime in
Java.
Gases arise from the lower depths and
form enormous bubbles in the sticky
mud, which grow and increase until they
attain a diameter of five or six feeet.
These bubbles are often carried skyward
by the wind, where they finally burst
with a loud explosion.
The biggest snow lake ever seen by
Sir Martin Conway, who explored the
Karakoram range of mountains in 1892.
From the summit of Hispar' pass, which
he traversed for the first time on record,
he looked upon a vast level lake of
snow, over 300 square miles in area, sur
rounded by innumerable giant peaks.
The sea of ice near Chamouni, in Sa
voy, Switzerland, is more like a lake of
snow than anything else. The surface
of the ice is broken up by solar heat,
and this minute fissuring give it the ap
pearance of snow and it is often mis-'l
taken for such by tourists.
The finest milk-white lake in the world
was discovered by Herr Thoroddsen in
Iceland, who christened it the, Langis-
jor. It stretches from the margin of the
mighty glacier which forms the western
side of the Vatria-Jokull, and the, gla
cier water of which it is composed is of
a pure milky white color.
A similar lake, but on a smaller scale,
is situated about thirty miles from
Tauranga, in New Zealdan.
So far only one stone has been discov
ered in the world which actually fore-
tels changes in the weather, and it was
found in Finland many years ago by an
explorer.This stone, which is known as the
semakuir, is mottled with white spots,
but just before an approaching rain
storm it turns absolutelv black.
The semakuir is composed of clay,
rock salt and nitre. When the, atmos
phere is dry the salt in the stone shows
itself in spots on the surface, but when
rain is expected the salt, absorbing the
moisture, turns black andtliu- aevs as
barometer.
have climbed the mountain
a
Mr. Skunk.
He is nocturnal.
He is no end of slow.
He never accelerates his step.
He is of most cleanly habits.
As an epicure he is famous.
There is no denying he is a thief.
It is said he founded the Don’t Hurry
Club.In winter he takes a sleep of six weeks.
Owing to the beauty of his fur he is
cultivated on skunk farms.
His immense tail sets back over his
body as jauntily as that of a squirrel.
He is a soft, beautiful animal, with a
pretty face and head, and delicate teeth.
Freshly laid eggs and the youngest of
“broilers'” form liis favorite “late din
ner.”
His means of defense, the awful odor
lie emits, is used only in the greatest
danger, and in it he feels the utmost con
fidence.
After Mrs. Hon has comfortably gath
ered her fuzzy tribe under her sheltering
wings and gone sund asleep, Mr. Skunk
steals up and quietly abstracts chick af
ter chick. The poor bereft mother wwy
find but two of her promising family i»
the morning, while round about she may
discover dainty little legs and beak#.