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The Exeter Advocate, 1894-5-17, Page 9THE SELECT STORY TELLER SHORT, BRIGHT I'TCTION, "1'i't Latest Stories by Popular, Wells 'Known Authors. Light Rending For the 'whom Family. JilDGE NOT. It was an eloquent, soul -stirring ser mon. The hushed, interested faces of the largo audience betrayed strict attention. The theme was charity, brotherly love, good will to men. The voice of. the min- ister was rich: and full, tender and per- suasive; his person strong and manly; his face attractive and earnest. " A lovely sermon," murmured one lady to another as they walked down the richly carpeted aisle. "How Could it be otherwise ?" laughed the other, a golden -haired woman, with large, spiritual blue eyes and a smiling, roguish mouth: U You wore always enthusiastic over Dr. Tigers. Beware !" " T really do think a great deal of him, and his wife, too," admitted the golden - haired. lady. " She is not here to -night, I see." " No, and I always go home with them. Ah, Dr. Tigers," giving him her small gloved hand, "I shall have to trouble you to take me home." "No trouble. Mrs. Oakley. I will meet you at the door. I want to speak to Brother Jones." " What a lovely night, but rather •chilly," said Mrs. Oakley, with a little shiver, looking up in Dr. Tigers' face. "Yes; let me draw your cloak around you," as they came into the full glare of an electric light. " There—thank you. Mr. Oakley says I n m so careless about my wraps that I am sure to become consumptive," " Carelessness often leads to consump- tion," said the doctor, gravely. " Our little Annie is sick to -night ; sore throat, you know, and we are so much afraid of diphtheria." " That is too bad, and Mrs. Tigers has scarcely recovered her strength since nursing Willie through that dreadful at- twf;. of pneumonia." "No, she has not, and she is feeling uncommonly depressed this evening. I think if you had not helped her with Willie that she would have broken down entirely." " Well, I have no children of my own, said. it is only my duty to help others. Every one ought to be of some use in the world. If I can be any help to her to- night, clo not hesitate to send for ane." " We can never forget your kindness, nor repay it, either, I am afraid," he said, as they reached the gate, and he held it open for her to pass in. " Don't mention it. Good night. Oh! is.ruy cloak fastened in the gate?" " Yes, and I fear I shall torr it getting it loose„ Lean over this way and hold the latch." "Now it is all right. Thank you— good-night again. Remember, Mr. Oak- ley is away, and don't hesitate to come," she called back as she mounted the step. " Yos. Good -night." .A. block further on and the doctor opened his gate and passed over the threshold of his own home. Deacon Follett was a very strict church member ; a good. citizen, upright and honest in all his dealings. He owed no man, and no man owed him. Some peo- ple said that he would not allow any one to owe him anything. But be that as it may, he paid his church dues, gave a cer- tain amount of his income to the poor, and in his will (for Deacon Follett was a rich man) he had endowed a ministerial college, besides leaving a good sum to his children. Like most self-righteous people, he had little charity for those whose daily life was not as spotless as his own. He not only hated the offence, but had little sympathy for the offender. Having no bad habits, he wondered why other peo- ple should have them, should cultivate such an unnecessary " growth of weeds," as he expressed it. Tho allurements. and pleasures of the world were not attractive to him, therefore it required no effort to resist them. He would not willingly or maliciously, by any act or cleecl, harm any human being. He could not have slept with such a thing upon his conscience. But having this high standard of himself al= ways before his mind it naturally follow- ed that his associates suffered by compar- ison. He was quick to detect their evil tendencies, and unconsciously judged and condemned without leniency, without that charity and love to which all other virtues are as " sounding brass or a tink- 1 sym.bol." It was 2 o'clock in the morning follow- ing the night on whieh our story opens. Raw and chilly though it was, a muffled. formmight be seen pacing back and forth, on the sidewalk opposite the Tigers and Oakley residences. Now and then it would stop and withdraw into the dense shadows as some belated pedestrian or the night watchman came along. Who could it bo watching those houses and dodging the police ? None other than Deacon Follett—Deacon Follett himself ? What, poul,cl it mean? The deacon was standing in the shadow, leaning against a fence, apparently very tired end sleepy, when his attention was attracted by the opening of a gate. Then Che saw a man conte out of Dr, Tigers' yard and walk down the street. Tho dea- con followed cautiously. The man stop - Ped sit the Oakley residence and knocked at the door, After some moments it was opened by a woman in light gaz:rnonts; the roan entered and the door was closed. The deacon stood for a moment looking at the closed door as if spellbound, Then, smiting himself on the breast, he started homeward, muttering c "Who would have believed, it ? A wolf in sheep's clothing. Well, well ! My duty is clear before me—a painful duty, but I must perform it!" A few days after this Mrs, Oakley, ar- rayed in the most becoming and tasteful of tea -gowns, sat in her bright little par- lor, with its pretty brie -a -brae and oheer- ful grate fire, the picture of utter despair. " Oh, what does it all mean ?" she murmured, wringing her tender slight hands in her lap. " How could such a thing have got started? How cruel ! How horrible ! If Charley were only home, or if I could write to him about it —buil dare not put such a thing on pa- per. The idea of people talking about Dr. Tigers and me ! She said she told me in kindness, as a friend, so that I could bo ou my guard. Perhaps my best °ours° is to go down and tell Mrs. Tigers and the (locator. No, no•I couldn't do that ! If Charley would only come ! How can I wait another week ? Oh, what shall I do —what shall I clo ?" She was interrupted by a sudden rap at the door, and before she could reach the hall Dr. Tigers came in. ` ` Oh, Dr. Tigers !" she cried, scarcely knowing what to say. " Excuse me for coming in so abruptly," he exclaimed, not seeming to notice her agitation, "but it is a matter of life or death. Old Brother Simmons is dying, and has sent for me. He lives out in the suburbs, and I thought the quickest way to reach him would bo to get Mr. Oakley's horse." "Yes, you are quite right. He is in the stable. The saddle and bridle are hanging by the trough." " So much obliged. I'll just go out the back way." He had scarcely disappeared when the door bell rang. "I hope it isn't a caller," sighed &Tars. Oakley, as she went to answer it. • `c Good evening, Miss Monroe. Come in. Such a nice day to be out !" she said, assuming a cheerfulness she diel not feel, for she really liked her visitor, and wished to treat her courteously. "Very indeed," said Miss Monroe, rather stiffly. " I thought some one was here." "No, 110 0110 but myself." Then sho remembered who had just been there, and was about to mention the doctor's call, when the other horrible thought struck her, and she checked the remark as it came to her lips, the blood rushing to her face. She changed the subject, but conicl not hide her agitation. Por some reason both parties felt ill at oase, therefore the interview was a very short and chilly one, and Mrs. Oakley was infinitely relieved when it was over. As she returned to the parlor after see- ing her guest out, she noticed a man's glove lying on the floor. " Whose glove is this?" she thought. " Dr. Tigers' of course. I wonder if she saw and recognized it ? Matters are get- ting worse. What shall Ido ? I will go to Charley! Yes, I will pack niy valise this very night, and start on the first train in the morning." Tho morning after Mrs. Oakley's depar- ture Dr. Tigers received the following note : ",Rev. Da. Tiwnns :—You aro request- ed to be at the church at 2 o'clock this afternoon, on a matter of importance. Here followed the names of several of the deacons, headed by that of Deacon Follett. Wondering what the meeting could be about, the doctor made his appearance at the appointed place and time, and was very much surprised to see, beside the men who had signed the note, several la- dies present. " This is unexpected. What has oc- curred? Nothing serious, I hope," he said, shaking hands with several. " We aro afraid it is very serious," re- plied Deacon Grimes, significantly. "You astonish me. Let us proceed to business at once," said Dr. Tigers, seat- ing himself. " Brother Follett, will you speak now?" said Deacon Grimes. "No, you introduce the subject." " This is a very painful duty, and one I would . like to avoid," said Deacon Grimes, shifting uneasily from ono foot to another. " Speak out, speak out ! Somebody must speak 1" cried the doctor, impa- tiently. " Well, then, Dr. Tigers, perhaps you are aware that your recent conduct to- wards Mrs. Oakl.ey has been such as to require investigation. In fact, very grave charges are laicl at your door." "What do you mean ? Remember that kfrs. Oakley is a lady, and my wife's friend." ".She may be. That remains to be proven. Brother Follett, whet have you to say ?" "I have this to say," rising suddenly to his feet ; " I saw Dr, Tigers embrace Mrs. Oakley under a street lamp ; I saw them both lean over her gate as though taking 'an affectionate farewoll of each oth.or; l; heard her tell him that her hus- band was away, and ho must not hesitate to come ; I saw him enter her house at 2 o'elook time following morning." Deacon Follett sat down as abruptly as ho had risen. "Gentlemen, brothers—" cried Dr. Tie gees, half rising from his chair. "Please bo seated until you have heard the rest of the evnc.enoo. Miss Monroe, step forward." Mastering his emotion the doctor re - mimed his seat, while Miss Monroe ad- vanced, apparently with great releet- amlee: When I hoard those reports," she said, "I did not believe them, . anct thought I would go to. Mrs. Oakley and tell her what people wore saying, so that sho oouid exercise snore caution: As I neared the house I saw Dr. Tiger's through the window, and heard his voice as I re- moved my rubbers at the door. When I rang the bell and Mrs. Oakley invited me in the doctor did not appear, although his glove was lying on the floor.. I asked Mrs. Oakley if any ono was there; and she said she was alone, blushing and. looking confused. She changed the subject, but seemed so agitated and unlike herself that I began to lose confidence in her, and came away without telling the, object of my visit, heartsick to think that one whom I had so loved and respected could be guilty of such falsehood and deception. However, I afterward loomed that Mrs.. Moore had told her of the talk that very morning. I have no more to say." Miss Monroe sat down in tears, and a deep, painful silence fell over the room. Dr. Tigers, you have heard the evi- clenco. What have you to say for your- self ?" " It is simply preposterous l Too ridicu- Ions to. deny ! May God. forgive you,!" And the doctor, seizing his hat, strode from the room as though he would shake the dust of such calumny from his feet. * * * " Good morning, Sister Gower," said ktrs. Pinch, a sharp -faced, thin woman as sho carne into her neighbor's kitchen one morning. " Have you heard the news ?" " No ; sit clown and tell me about it," and Mr's. Gower's comely face lighted up with a welcoming smile. "Dr. Tigers has resigned, and taken an appointment in Cincinnati." " Well, well ! And over that talk, I suppose. I am afraid it will be a long time before we get as good a man to fill his place." " Ah, Sister Gower," and Mrs. Pinch shook her head mysteriously, "you never know about such things. Sometimes I think him guilty and sometimes inno- cent, and I suppose others think about the same way." " I am one that don't," emphatically. " Why. you surely don't doubt the truth of such people as Miss Monroe and Deacon Follett, do you?" " No, I believe in their truth, but I don't admire their discretion. They had no right to put an evil construction on what they saw as long as there was the least shadow of a doubt. Beside, it was all explained away." " So they say. Perhaps he was just fixing her wrap under the street lamp and at the gate, and perhaps little Annie was sick when he went for her that night; but how clo you explain her denying that any one was there the day Miss Munroe called ? It looks mighty curious :kerne." " Well, Sister Pinch, I have thought a good deal about that, and have concluded that as she had just heard the reports she was considerably agitated, and thought it would. not be prudent to tell that the doc- tor had been there after the horse." " It may be as you say, but somehow never could trust those golden -haired, angelic looking women. And preachers are only human, you know." " Of course they are only human, and ought to be treated with human consider- ation. Character is a sacred thing, not to be lightly handled. I think it is Shakespeare who says : ` Who steals my purse steals trash; but he who robs me of my good name, takes that which does not enrich him, and leaves me poor in- deed.' And for my part, I would rather bo Mrs. Oakley and the doctor on the day of judgment than those who accused them, if they did tell the truth." "Law sakes, Sister Gower, how you clo talk !" THE DRAWN BLIND. Silver trumpets sounded a flourish, and the javelin men came pacing down Tre- garrick Pore street, with the sheriff's coach swinging behind them, its panels splendid with fresh blue paint and florid blazonry. Its wheels were picked out with yellow, and this scheme of color ex- tended to the coachman and the two lackeys, who hold on at the back by leathern straps. Bach wore a coat and breeches of electric blue, with a canary waistcoat, and was, toned off with powder and flesh -colored stockings at the ex- tremities. Within the coach and facing the horses sat two judges of the Crown Court and Nisi Prius, both in scarlet, with full wigs and little round patches of black plaster, like ventilators,. on top facing their lordships sat Sir Felix Felix - Williams, the sheriff, in a Lightish uni- form of the yeomanry with a great shako nodding .on his knees and a chaplain bolt upright by his side. Behind trooped a rabble of loafers and small boys, who shouted, "Who bleeds bran ?" till the lackeys' calves itiohed with indignation. I was standing in the arohwey of the Packhorse Inn, among the maids and stableboys gathered to see the pageant pass on its way :to hear the Assize ser- mon. And standing there I was witness of a little ineidont that seemed to eseapo the rest. At the moment when the trumpets rang out a very old woman, in a biro camiet deals:, came hobbling out of 't, grocer's shop some twenty yards up the pavement, and tottered down ahead of the procession as fast ars her decrepit old legs would. move. 'There Was no occasion i for for h.uuirying to avoid the ° roved ; the javelin teen had barely rounded the oor- ner of the long street, ,and were taking the goose-step very seriously and deliber- ately.. Bat sho wont past the Packhorse doorway as if swift horsemen were after her, clutching the oainletcloak across her bosom, glancing over shoulder and work- ing her lips inaudibly, I could not help remarking the position of her right arm. She held it bent exactly as though she held an infant to her old breast, and shielded it while she ran, A few paces beyond the inn door she halted on the edge of the curb, flung an- other look up the street, and darted =ass the roadway. There stood a little shop —a watchmaker's—just opposite, and next to the shop a small opo with one dingy window over it. She vanished up the passage, at the entrance of which I was still staring idly, when, half a minute later, a skinny trembling hand appeared at the window and drew dpwn the blind. I looked round at the men and maids ; but their eyes were all for the pageant, now not a stone's throw away. "c Who is that old woman?" I asked, touching' Caleb, the head hostler, on the shoulder. Caleb, a small, bandy-legged man, with a chin full of furrows, and the furrows full of gray stubble, withdrew his gaze grudgingly from the sheriff's coach, " What woman ?" " She in the blue cloak, d'ee mean ?— an old, ancient; wisht-lookin' body ?" 1: Yes." " A timmersome woman, like ?" " That's it." Well, her name's Cordely Pinsent." The procession reclaimed his attention. He received a passing wink from the. charioteer, caught it on the volley and returned it with a solemn face ; or rather, the wink seeined to rebound as if from a blank wall, As the crowd closed in upon the circumstance of justice, he turned to me again, spat, and went on :. " Cordely Pinsent, widow of old. Key Pinsent,:was a tailor to all the grandees in the county so far back as I can mind. I can just mind Key Pinsent—a great, red, rory-cumtory chap, with a high stock and a wig like King George—`my royal patron' he called 'en, havin' ' by some means got leave to hoist the King's arms over his door. Such mighty portly manners, too. Oh, very spacious, I as- sure 'ee ! Simme I can seethe old Trojan now, with his white weskit bulgin' out across his doorway like a shop -front hung wi' jewels. Gout killed 'en. I went to his buryin' ; such a stretch of experience does a young man get by the time he reaches my age. God bless your heart alive, I can remember when they were hung for forgery." " Who were hung ?" "People," he answered, vaguely, "and young Willie Pinsent." " This woman's son?" "Aye, her son—her ewe -lamb of a child. 'Tis very seldom brought up against her nosy, poor soul! She's so very old that folks forgits abouts it. Do 'ee see her window yonder over the cope?" He was pointing across to the soiled white blind that still lookeclblankly over the street, its lower edge caught sap at one corner by a dusty geranium. "I saw her pull it down." " Ah, you would if you were lookin' that way I've a -seed her do 't a score of times. Well, when the gout reachecl Key Pinsent's stomach, and he went off like snuff of a candle at the age of 42, she was left unprovided, with a son of thirteen to maintain or go 'pon the parish. She was a Menhenniek, tho', from t'other side o' the Dachy—a very proud family—and didn't mean to dip the knee to nobody, and all the less because she demeaned hersel', to start with, by wedding a tailor. But Key Pinsent, by all allow- ance, was handsome as blazes, and well informed up to a point that he read Shakespeare for the mere pleasure o't. " Well, sho sold up the stock in trade an' hired a couple o' rooms—the self- same rooms you see—and then she ate less 'n a mouse an' took in needle -work, plain an' fancy, for a lot o' the gentry's wives round the neighborhood befriend- ed her, though they had to be sly an' hide that they meant it for a favor, or she'd ha' snapped their heads off. An' all the while she was toachin' her boy an' tellin' 'en, whatever happened, to re- member he was a gentleman, an' lovin' 'en with all the strength orf a desolate woman. "'This 'Willie Pinsent was a comely boy, too ; handsome as old Key, an' quick at his books. Ifo'd a bold, masterful way, being proud as ever his another was, and well knowin' there wasn't his match in Tregarrick for headwork. Such a beautiful hand he wrote! When he was barely turned sixteen they gave 'en a place in Gregory's bank—Wilkins & Gregory it was in those aged times. He still lived home wi' his mother, rontin' a room extra out of his earnin's and muslin' ono of the bedrooms into a parlor. That's the very room you're lookin' at. And when any :father in Tregarrick had. a Bono to pike with his sons he'cl advise 'em to take example by young Pinsent; so clever an' good, too, there was no tellin' what ho mightn't comp to in time.' " Well -a -well, to out at short, the lad was too clover. It came out, after, that he'd took to bobbin' his employers' money agsn the rich anon up at the Royal Ex- change. An' the upshot was that ono even ir', while he was drinitial' tea with his mother in his lovin', light-hearted way, in walks a brace o' constables an' says, 'William Pinsent, young chap, I arrest thee uponb acharge o' countorfeitin' old Gregory's hanclwritin' whieh is a b hangin' matter," An' now, sir, comes the eur'ous part o' the tale ; for, if you'll believe me, this poor woman, wonlcln:'.t listen to it -- wouldn't hear a word o't. 'What ! my son Willie,' she flames, hot as Lucifer, 'My son 'Willie a forger ; any boy, that I've nussed, an' reared up, an studied, rn.arkin' all his pretty, tallcin' ways since he learned. to - orawl ! Gentlemen,' she says, standin' ug .an' facia' 'eon clown, `what mother blows her son, if not I? 1 give you my word it's all a mistake.' " Ay, an' she 'would have it no other. While her son. was waitin' his trial in jail; she walked the streets with her head high, scornin' the folk as she passed. Not a soul dared to speak pity; an' one afternoon, when old' Gregory hissel' .let her an.' began to mumble that 'he trust- ed,' an' `he had a little doubt,' an''no- body would be gladder than he if it Iirov- ed to be a mistake,' she held her skirt aside an' went by with a look that turned 'en to dirt, as he said 'Gad !' said he, 'she eoliths' ha' looked at me worse if I'd a been a tab !' meanin' to say, 'instead o' the richest man in Tregarrick.' " .But har greatest freak was seen when th' Assizes came. Sir, sho wouldn't even go to the trial. She disdained it. An' when that mornin' the judges had driven by her window, same as they drove to- day, what tree think she did? ' "She began to lay the cloth up in the parlor yonder, an' there set out the rarest meal, ready for her boy. There was meats, roasted chickens an' a tongue,oan' a groat ham. There was cheese cakes she made after a little secret of her own ; and a bowl of junket, an inch deep in cream, that bein' his pet dish ; an' all kinds o' knickknacks, wi' grapes, an' peaches, an' apricots, an' decanters o' wine, white an' red. Ay, sir, there was even crackers for mother an son to pull together, with scraps o' poetry inside. An' flowers—the table was bloomin' with flowers. For weeks she'd been plannin' it ; an' all the forenoon she moved about that table, givin' it a touch here an' a touch there, an' takin' a step back to see how beautiful it looked. An' then, as the day wore on, she pulled a chair over by the window, an' sat down an' waiter.. " In those days a capital trial was kept up till late into the night, if need were. By an' by she called up her little servin' gal that was then (she's a gran'mother now) an' sent her down to the courthouse to learn how far the trial had got, an' run back with the news. ' ` Down runs Selina Mary an' back with word : " ` They're a-summ`n' up,' says she. " Then Mrs. Pinsent went an' lit eight candles. Four she sat 'pon the table an' foto' 'pon the mantel shelf. You could see the blaze out in. the street, an' the room lit up, wi' the flowers, an fruit, an' shinin' glasses—red au' yellow dallies the flowers were, that bein' the time o' year. An' over each candle she put a little red shade. You never saw a place look cozier. Then she went back an' waited ; but in half an hour calls to Selina Mary age.: " ` Selina Mary, run you back to the courthouse an' bring word. how far they've got.' " So the little slip o' a maid ran back, an' this time 'twas " ' Missis, the judge has done ; an' now they're cousiderin' about Master Willie.' " So the poor woman sat a while longer an' then she calls : "' Selina Mary, run down agen, an' as he comps out, tell 'on to hurry. They must be finished by now.' " The maid was gone twenty minutes this time. The evenin' was hot, an' the window open ; an' now all the town that wasn't listenin' to the trial was gathered in front, gazin' cur'ously at the woman inside. She was titivatin the table for the fiftieth time, an' touchin' up the flowers that had drooped a bit i' the bowls. ".But after twenty minutes Selina Mary came rennin' up the street, an' fetched her breath at the front door, an' went upstairs slowly an.' 'pon tip -toe. Her face at the parlor door was white as paper; an' while she stood there the voices o' the crowd outside began to take all one tone, and beat into the room like the sound o' 'waves 'pon a beach. " ` Oh, missis,' she begins. "' Have they finished?' " The poor °beaid was only able to nod. " "Then, where's Willie? Why isn't he hero?' " ` Oh, ruissis, they're going to hang 'en !' " Mrs. Pinsent moved across the room an' gave her a little push out into the street. Not a word did she say, but shut the door 'pon her, very gentle -like. Then sho went back an' pulled the blind down slowly. The crowd outside watched her do it. Her manner was quite ord'nery. They stood there for a minute or so, an.' behind the blind the eight candles went out, one by one. By the time the judges passed homeward'twas all dark, only the blind showin' white by the street lamp opposite. From that year to this she has pulled it down whenever a judge drives by." A Mint of Information. It has been said of Dr. Butyl, the :Bos- ton clergyman who has just celebrated the Sist anniversary of his birth, that if you hoard ,.butt preach for a year you worn acquainted with everything of importance that was going on at the flub. He has the distinction of having delivered more notable eulogies of th.e great men of this century who have cliod than any other pastor in New :Idngland, with the possible exception of the late Dr. Peabody. It is state°. in Montrealthat the hes decided to male a reduction of 10 per cent, inits staff, f1T)1!L TIV,I4 POWERS OF THE SUI'.. Its Bays Oar) Eleeteleal and pheneteal 'auction. The direct influence of sunshine on the eireulation, in paralysis, insomnia, nerv- ous disease .and internal disorders is be- ginning bo be known and acknowledged. If I wanted to restore a 'withered arm, a palsied or rheumatic limb, or to bring a, oase of nervous prostration up rapidly, a most eiiacient part of the treatment would be to expose the limb or the person as many hours to direct sunlight as the day would. afford. I knew 'a, delicate lady who had gone insane through. mental trouble, loneliness, and secluision, part of whose tender ing by the friend who brought her back to reason and ease was daily to have her bed, freshly made', drawn where the full sunlight from 'a broad window fell warm- ly on her. Fresh flowers; were placed where her eye could linger on them, a small music -box played a tune or taro, and the invalid lay for hours in blissful repose or softly sleeping, her couch gently wheeled to follow the sunshine, every nerve drinking the refreshment, till, from. a brooding, sleepless melancholy, her days were full of happiness and rest. I know a case, too, of painful tumor in. its early stages which nothing seemed to relieve and penetrate like au hour with, direct sunshine falling on the swelling. For nervous debility and insomnia, the treatment of all others is rest in sunshine. Draw the bed to the window and let the patient lie in the sun for hours. There is no bromide, no tonic like it—provided the good effects are not neutralized by ill- leeding. Tho effect of sunshine is not merely thermal, to warm and raise the heat of the body ; its rays have chemical and electric functions. As a clever physician lately explained, it is more than possible that sunshine produces vibrations and changes of particles iu the deeper tissues of the body, as effective as those of elec- tricity. Many know by experience that the re- lief it affords to wearing pain, neuralgic and inflammatory, is more effective and lasting than that of any other application whatever. Those who have face -ache should prove it for themselves, sitting in a sunny window where the warmth falls full on the cheek. To lie on a lounge and go asleep in the sun is so much the better. Two conditions are necessary— an agreeably warm room and pure air. One may be dressed or undressed. Cloth- ing as light as will preserve comfort ad- mitting swiftest effect. With the rheum- atic twinge which calls fora shoulder wrap or the sciatic touch which always makes one limp after being on a marble floor a few minutes, let the hip or shoul- der be exposed, not uncovered, to the heat of the sun's rays, and remain there till the sun leaves. It is finer stimulus than wine, electricity, massage, and we are on the verge of delightful therapeutic dis- coveries concerning it. Dr. Thayer, of San Francisco, as re- ported in the Medical Record, has conte to the conclusion that the sun is the most efficient of all surgical methods in the treatment of " capillary aneurisems, ver- ieose veins, indolent and eating ulcers, epitherial cancers, birth, India ink and powder marks, morbid growths, as warts, moles, small wens and all parasitic skit diseases." Dr. Thayer is candid enough to admit he is not the first to discover the surgery and dermatology of the sun. Some years ago a London surgeon by using the sun's rays, presumably with a lens, removed' a wine mark from a lady's face, and de- stroyed a malignant growth in the same way. Says Dr. Thayer : " During a practice of more than a quarter of a century I have found no caustic or cautery to com- pare with solar heat in its beneficial re- sults. Unlike other caustics, it can be applied with safety on the .most delicate tissues and the system reeeives this treat- ment kindly. The irritation and inflam- mation following are surprisingly slight and of short duration, the pain subsiding immediately on removal of the lens. There is a curative power in the ehemz- cal rays.of the sun yet unexplained." With weak lungs, let the sun fall on the chest for hours. If internal tumor or ulceration is suspected, let the sun burn. through the bare skin directly on. the point of disoase for Hour's daily. There will be no doubt left in the mind that there is a curative power in the chemical rays of the sun. Women especially need to make syste- matic trial of the sun's healing and reju- venating powers. From that nervous depression which results in shedding hair, in, sunken feat- ures, anti ushers dread. tuberoulosis, tu- mor and internal inflammation, sun is the specific—sun and rust together. For the chilliness which causes blue hands and bad. color, resort to the sun : let it almost blister the skin and the cir- culation will answer the attraction, For grazing hair and baldness, try the sun ou the scalp for lessor periods, say 10 minutes, often repeated. A.ucl the woman who wants a cheek like a rose should pull her sofa pillows into the -window, and let the sun blaze forst on one cheek, then the other, and else will gain a color warranted not to wash off. The sun draws the Mood to the surface better than a hot bath, and exhilarates sachet than wealtens. • What Ito Would Say to Ills Vire. Itobinson-It is awfully tato, T3rown. What will you say to your wife ? Brown (in a whfspor)-0h, I shan't say much, you know. 'Good morning, dear, or something of that sorb. Shell say the rest,