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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times, 1888-3-22, Page 7IOW FeRST P0311ED.) ALL EIGHTS ,RESERVED.) I L K AND UNLIKE. By M. E. BRADDON, ArpnoR op L» AUDLEY'S SEQEET," WYLLARD'a WEIED," ETC., ETO. YNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. CHAPTER T. introduces the reeder to Sir Adrian Belfield and his twin brother Valere tine, the " Like and Unlike" of the etory. There eves a close resemblance and vet a marked difference between them. They were alike in the form of the head and face, in the outline a the feetures, but in colour- ing and expression they were curiously un- like. The elder one had the pallid tint ri of ill-heaieh, au almost waxen brow, hair of a pale aueetem, eyes of a dark violet; it was only TiS ihtellectual power and innate man- liness of feeling that redeemed Adrian's hoe from effeminacy. Valentine, on the other hand, was altogether differently constiteted. His complexion woe of a dark olive, his eyes of the deepest brown with a wonderful „ capacity for expressing all the passions of which self-willed manhood is capable. His head was the head of Hercules. The affections of Lady Belfield clung round her younger and athletic son. As the story opens Valentine has been riding a high- spirited horse, much against the wishes of his mother and brother, but returns from the hunt safe and sound, and with the ohesnut beaten and tamed. CHAPTER [L—A week after the wild ride with the chesnut Valentine Belfield left for Paxis, with a college friend, en route for 1Vionta Carlo, with an " infallible" system for breaking the bank. In his absence Lady Belfield and Sir Adrian settle down into their usual quiet life. They hear that Mor - comb, a residence in the neighborhood has been taken by Col. Deverill, of The Rock, near Kilrush, County Clare. The news rather startles Lady Belfield, for Deverill in their younger days was a suitor for her hand, but he was wild and she rejected him. Adrian makes the customary call of courtesy and finds two charming ladies, Mrs. Bad- deley and her sister, Miss Deverill, engaged at a game of billiards. Mrs. Baddeley is wife of a Major in the Seventeenth Lancers,' located in India. He is expected home in the winter. The two sisters give Adrian a cordial welcome, and he is pleased with their frank, open manners, though he questions whether his mother educated in the very essence of refinement, will care for these girls with their free and easy manners, ac- quired on the Continent and in the Irish home. He promises, however, to bring her to see them. CHAPTER III.—Lady Belfield and her son Adrian pay their promised visit, and after- wards Col. Deverill and his daughters at- tend dinner party at the Abbey, the Vicar, Mr. e'e?a, d Mrs. fereemantle, and their son Jack being the other guests, When the Deverills have driven away Mrs. Freeman- tle, in answer to Lady Belfield, eives it as her opinion that they are decidedly danger- ous, Adrian being, she thinks, already struck with Miss Deverill. Owe -Pres 1V %AND V.—Mrs. Freemantle eves eight in her diagnosis '• Adrian was in ken. Meantime, Helen Deverill and. her sister were considered by the county families as bad style, to be received and tolerated only, but nob to be admitted to the inner sanctuary of intimate friendship. Adrian writes to his brother at Monte Carlo, but he repliee that he did not think it was in Adrian to be such a fool. Mr. Rookstone, se the Vicar, takes especial interest in one of his parishioners, Old Dawley, as he is called, who gets his living by basket making, Years ago hisalaughter had been decoyed from her home, none knew whither. Three yeers after her flight Dawley, returning to his desolate hearth finds a child whose ap- pearance tells at a glance that she is the offspring of the daughter who had left her home. Dawley accepts the charge of the little foundling without a murmur. At the time the story opens, this child, now grouing up to womanhood, gives evident signs of an all -consuming passion, and her father sus- pects rightly that she is in love. He has observed evidences of strange visitations from a " gentleman" at the cottage—a smell of ":gentleman's baccy" in the room strange footprints near the cottage — but Madge denies all knowledge of such visits to her father. Asked to interest himself in the girl, the Vicar speaks to Lady Belfield on the subject, and she offers to take her to re- side with her at the Abbey. CHAPTER VL—Madge Dawley is installed in the household of Lady Belfield, having, though somewhat ungraciously, consented to take up:her abode at the Abbey. e/feanwhile Sir Adrian proceeds apace in his,wooing, and Helen Deverill half consents, in a brusque, off -hand sort of way, to acoept him as her lover. "But," she:says, "1 am not going to be called love' or darling,' or any of those sickly sweet appellations. You are to call me Helen, and I shall cell you Adrian. There is a world more meaning in our own two names, which belong to us in- dividually, than in any barley -sugar epithets that all the world uses." She, at Adrian's request, consents to stay at the Abbey dur- the absence of her father and sister. CHAPTER VII,—Nor QUITE CONTENT. Helen Deverill had been staying at the Abbey for nearly three weeks; she had be- come domesticated there, and seemed a part oe the familylife. Lady Belfield found her- se'f wondering how she had ever managed her existence without the girliah figure al- ways at her side, prompt and swift to wait upen her in all things, and anticipate her wants and wishes, to cut the leaves of her books, and to arrange her crewels, to listen with an enraptured air to her music. She was more than reconciled to the idea that this girl was to be her daughter in the fu- ture. She was grateful to Providence for having given her such a daughter. "44 she is only as devoted to Adrian as sh‘seeins to be !" thought the mother. "If the is only true 1" There is always that doubt, until love and lovers have been tried in the furnace of hard experiences. Coltinel Deverill and his elder daughter • were still in Paris. That lively city was at its best just after the turn of the year. Major Baddeley and his wife had numerous Mendel there, French and English. They were staying at the Grand Hotel, and they were scemg everything, The Colonel had been less eager to go back,to Devonshire, seeing that Helen was so happily placed with her future mother -in law. Ile had re- plied to Adrian's letter, asking his coneent to the engagement, with charatteristio can- dour. "1 must confese to having perceived which way you and Helen were shifting, and to having been heartily glad," he wrote. " She hi a sweet girleandwill make yea a sweet wife. Of course you knowthat Irian aWorldlypoint of view, yeti are making a shocking bad nustch '1 have not a thilling to give my ' claughibra. They Will haise my' estate be tween them when I am dead and gone, and if their should be a radical change in the the condition of Ireland, the property may be worth something. At present it is worth little more than nothing. My best tenant is two years and a half in arrear with his rent; my worst has threatened -to shoot me tor taking out his doors and windows in a vain enveavor to eject him. But I won't plague you with these dismal details. Happily you are rich and generous, and you can afford to marry a girlwhose beauty and grace are her only dower." Thus assured of the Colonel's approval, and seeing his mother growing daily- better pleased with his choice, Adrian Belfield was completely happy. And the die being octet, his friends and neighbours accepted the in- evitable, and congratulated him heartily, or with seeming heartiness, on his engageineet. Even the Miss Treduceys and the Miss Toffstaffis were gracious, taking an early oc- casion to call upon Lady Belfield and to ask if thie startling news was really, really true. "It is quite true, and I ha.ve my future daughter-in-law staying with me," answered Constance. "She is out riding with Adrian but they will be home to tea, if you can stay and see them." "We shall be charmed," eaid Dorothy Toffstaff, who had driven her smart little cart over frozn the heights above Chadford, and had picked up Matilda Treducey on her way. It was a long ride from Chadford to Crowsnest, but the Toffstaffs, with their in- exhauetible stud, made light of distances. They liked to be everywhere, and were to be met with at all possible points within twenty miles of their house. The Treducey stables were altogether on a different footing, and there were daily quarrels and heart burnings as to who should have cattle to ride or drive. Thus it had happened of late that the Treduceys were always being ridden in Toffstaff car• riages and riding Toffstaff horses. They broke in difficult animals for the Miss Toff - staffs, who, notwithstanding this, could never be induced to own the Traducey superiority in riding. "They have very good hands," said Dorothy, speaking of her dearest friends, "but they have no style. They would be dreadful ID the Row." Style, as imparted by a fashionable rid- ing master, at a guinea a lesson was Dor- othy's strong point. She, balanced herself airily upon her saddle, stuck out her elbows, tossed up her head, or straightened her fpine in the last approved manner, and she was an admirable horse woman as long as her horse behaved himself; but it was the Traduceys' strong point to master vice and inexperience in their horses, and to make all the hunters they ever rode. And now Dorothy Toffstaff and Matilda TraduceSat on each side of the hearth and complimented Lady Belfieli on her son's choice. " She is so pretty," said Dorothy, " one can hardly wonder that he fell in love with her. But I hope you like her, dear Lady Belfield ?" Dorothy was prepared to receive a reluc- tant negative. " Yes, I like her very much ; 1 love her very much I" Lady Belfield answered frank- ly. " Lucky girl, to have such a charming mother-in-law," said Miss Traducey, look- ing round tho noble old drawing room, which had been is drawing room in Queen Elizabeth's time, and had echoed the sil- very tones of that great sovereign's speech, and the graver accents of Burleigh. The Abbey was rich in traditions about dead and gone monarchs and senators. More than one sovereign had rested there on a royal progress through the west country. • Matilda Traducey had always admired the Abbey. If there was one hou3e in which she would rather have ruled than in another, it was this Elizabethan mansion • and to know that it was to be the home of an Irish scapegrace's unsophisticated daughter, a girl who had been brought up anyhow— this was bitter. Miss Toffstaff also felt that she had been cheated. Sir Adrian was the only good metch in that part of the country—and with his family and position, and her wealth, they might have done any- thing. And he was throwing himself away upon a pauper. Helen came in with her lover while the gentle Dorothy thus mused. She was flush- ed with her ride in the cold clear air, and looked lovely in her neat little felt hat and girlish habit, a little blue cloth habit made by an Irish tailor. Mrs. Baddeley had her hunting gear from the most fashionable habit maker in London ; but then Mrs. Baddeley had her own bills'and her own re- sources, great or small. Adrian and his fiancee were perfectly frank and gracious in their talk with the two young ladies; had no idea of any leaven of malice lurking under the outward semblance of good will; accepted congratulations and good wishes as a matter of course. • "Yes, we are both very happy," said Adrian, smiling at his betrothed; "1 did not think it was the common lot of man to know such bliss." "You don't hunt, now, do you ?" asked Mise Toffstaff of Helen, "1 haven't seen you out for ever so long." "No,I have not been out. Adrian is advisenot to hunt, and I don't care about it without him," "That must be a dreadful deprivation though, to anybody who is fond of sport." The two girls were talking together on one side of the room, while Adrian was en- gaged with hie mother and Miss Treducey on the other side, out of hearing. "1 am very fond of eport," Helen confess- ed, with a sigh. "I can't help being sorry that Adrian can never be a hunting man. I should so like him to have had the hounds. They say there will be some difficulty about a master if Sir George Rollestone gives them up, as he means to do; and Adrian would be the most natural person to take them." "What a pity he is not his brother." "Ab, Mr. Belfield iss is capital sportsman, I believe," said Helen with a alightly regret- ful air. Mr. Belfield is everything that Sir Adrian is not," replied Miss Toffetaff sen- tentiously. "Nature has been kinder to him. Poor Adrian!" "But then Sir Adrian is so clever. Mt. Rockstone told me that he has read more than most men of fifty," "Yea he has surfeited himself with bookie He is very clever." ' This was rspolten with a sigh, Helen was apt to be oppressed by her lover's intelleotte al superioritee It was is kind of barrier that kept them apart. He knew so much of books and the man who had written theta, and she o little, She was ashamed of her ignerance, and thus dared not talkfreely with him upon any intellectual, subjece leet be should discover her debienciee• " Dortoby Toffstaff was talking about your brother," the said to Adrian later, as they sat over the drawing -room 'fire in the dusk before going off to drese for dinner. Heleu had kept on her habit, She had a way of sitting about for an hour or two just as she came off her horse, with rumpled hair and bespattered skirts. She was sitting on the hearthrug almost at her lover's feet, star- ing at the fire in an idle reverie. Lady Bel- field had left them half -an -hour ago seated just in the same attitudes. It was not that they had very much to talk about. It was happiness to Adrian even to be in the presence of the woman he loved, to have her near him, a beautiful enchanting ereature, whore every tone was music, whose every movement was graoe. "She said that you and Valentine are ut- terly unlike," pursued Helen, "and yet I have heard your mother say that you are the image of each other," "I believe we a.re alike in face and figure —alike with is difference," answered Adrian dreamily. "Our features were cast from the same sketch, but not in the same mould. You will see him very soon, I hope, and judge for yourself. He and I have never lived so lona apart, and if I had not had you to give a ne w colour to my life, I should have felt miserable without him. Even with your sweet companionship I begin to weary for his return." "Take care I I shall be jealous of anyone whosteals your thoughts from me—even of a brother. You must be very fond of each other ?" "Fondness can hardly express our feeling. It is something more than affection. It is a sympathy se close that his vexations and his pleasures move me almost as strongly as my own. I have never seen him out of tem- per without being agitatedeand troubled for hours afterwards; and in all his great triumphs—on tne river, in the cricket field, at a steeplechase -1 have been as elated as if I myself were the victor. Yes, I have felt a thrill of pride and delight far -keener than common sympathy." "I don't think sympathy is by any means common," said Helen; lightly. "I believe that the majority of people are supremely indifferent to the joys and sorrows of others.' The world could hardly go on if it were otherwise. Weehave such a little time to live that we mist live fast if we want to get anything out of life." "Is it not rather a selfish theory ?" "I suppoee it is ; but I frankly own to being selfish. Selfishness is one of my num- erous failings." "I will not hear you say so. I know you better than you know yourself," he said tenderly, leaning down till his lips touched the golden -brown hair. "That is a delusion on your part. You only know an ideal Helen, a Helen of your own invention, farltless, a bundleof virtues, a concatenation of noble qualities and lofty feelings. I am not even a blood relation of your Helen. I am full of faults," "Then I will love you with all your faults. I have plenty of my own to balance them." "No. You have only three—three great faults." "Name them. Let me know the worst." "First, you are too good for me. Second- ly, you are far too clever for me. Thirdly, you are not a sportsman." "The goodness and the cleverness might be easily got over, since they belong rather to your ideal Adrian than to the actual man. But I fear I can never be a sportsman." "1 should have liked my husband to keep a pack of hounds, and to hunt four times a week," sighed Helen with the air of a child that has been baulked in some eager fancy. "My dearest, I can never be the typical English squire; nor can I allow the wite I love to spend half her days and nearly all her thoughts in the hunting field. I want to share your life, Helen, I want your com- pany all day long—your mind, your heart, and all your thoughts and fancies. I would not have one of your thoughts wasted upon horses and hound." "1 have been brought up to care more for four -footed friends than any others." "Perhaps you never had a friend who loved you as I do. Such friendship is exact- ing, Helen. There must he sacrifices." "Must there? Well, it is not a very great sacrifice for a penniless Irish girl to be your wife' and to live in this lovely old house. Itwill not be my house, though I shall only be a secondary person, Your mother must always be the first." "You do not mind that ?" asked Adrian. " Mind ? No, I adore her. She is as much above me as if she were of a superior clay—an angelic being out of my sphere. But I shall be Lady Belfield, too. Will not that seem strange? Two Lady Bel - fields in one house. We must live half the year in London and Paris, Adrian. We must not rust away our lives here." "Do you call this rusting?' he asked, tenderly. Her head rested against his knee, her eyes were looking up at him, starlike in the dim light of the low wood fire. "No, this is fairy -land, dream -land, what you will. But it cannot last much longer, not a moment longer "—as the timepiece chimed the half-hour. " There is half. past seven, and I shall be late for dinner again." "Don't if you can help it, darling. It is one of the few things that vexes my mother." Helen made a moue as she ran out ot the room. It seemed to her that there were a good many things which vexed Lady Bel- field. Disorder of all kinds set that gentle lady's teeth on edge, and Helen was the very spirit of disorder. Half -way to her room she met one of the house -maids in is corridor. "Is that you, Margaret ?" she cried. " Come and help me dress. I'm awfully late again." Margaret, alicts Madge, was Lady Bel - field's last protegee, the new girl who had been taken into the household out of char- ity. Mrs. Marrable had pronounced her very amenable, and had taken pains to in- struct her in certain domestic duties. Her province wets on the upper floor. Helen, who had no maid of her own, was struck by the ghee good looks, and had in a manner appropriated her services. She was much quicker of intellect and handier altogether than the average houeemaid. With Margaret's help, Helen contrived to appear in the drawing -room just two min- utes before the butler announced dinner. (TO BE OONTINUED. Shaving -Water. A country vicar was recommended by a doctor to take a little stimulant, and at last reluctantly Consented to do so ; for the geed man believed in the force of example, and hence had been an abstainer for many years. So he decided to keep the bottle in his wardrobe, and take a little whiskey with hot water at the tine° at which he shaved. When the Alsoulapius called at the end of 0, week, the viear'e butler annouheed to him that his master had gone ma& " For," said he, "he's crying for shaving,water all day long." AND YET WE LOVE BB It would appear that even lovely vvoinen ha e her faults, judging by. the somewhat spiteful reflections of a, variety of eminent writers. For instance these: Franklin:• He that takes a wife takes °ArLea. Fontaine: Foxes are all tail ancl wornen all tongue. - Eugene Sus: There is something still worse to be dreaded than a Jesuit, and that ajeesui;sI Fildn the forming of female friend- ships beauty seldom recommends one woman to another. Soerates : Trust not a woman when she weeps, for it is her nature to weep when she wants her will. Rochebrune : It is easier for is woman to defend her virtue against men than her reputation against women. Ben Jenson ; A. wornan the more curious she is about her face is commonly the more careless about her house. Lady Montagu: It goes far towards re conciling me to being a woman, when I re Elect that I am thue in no danger of marrying one. Swift: The reason why so few marriages are happy is because young ladiee spend their time in making nets, not in making cages. Alphonse Karr; A woman who writes commits two sins, she increases the number of books and decreases the number of wo- men. Douglas Jerrold: What women would do if they could not cry nobody knows; what poor defenceless creatures they would be. Charles Buxton: Juliet was a fool to kill herself, for in three months she'd have married again, and be glad to be quit of Romeo. Cheeterfield Women are much more alike than men ; they have in truth but tevo passions, vanity and love; these are their universal characteristics. Retif de la Bretonne : The life of a woman is a long dissimulation, candor, beauty, freshness, virginity, modesty—a woman has each of these but once— when lost, she must simulate them the rest of her life. The Loneliest Snot in Europe. One hundred and forty miles from the northwest come, of Scotland, and forty miles from the nearest land—the extreme point of the Hebrides Islands—lies a little arcnipel- ago or groupmeseelands, called the Hirt or Hirst, and more commonly known by the name of one of the islands, St. Kilda. St. Kilda is almost a lost island, so far is it out in the broad Atlantic, so completely deserted by the rest of the world, and so wildly beaten upon by the storms. But in spite of its remoteness, and the fact that the Wand has but a very small extent of culti- vable soil, St. Kilda is inhabited by nine- teen families, numbering, in 1881, seventy- seveneiouls. The strange and lonely life that those people live here is a matter of pity even for the poor and almost deserted inhabitants of the Hebrides, who have a large and popu- lous region compared with St. Kilda. But not only is the population of St. Kilda as large as it was in the middle of the last century, in spite of the unhealthiness of the people's way of life and a very high death rate but the island has sent a few emigrants to Zustralia. The children all are subject to attacks of fits, brought on, the doctors believe, by the peculiar food given them. From the day of their birth, they are made to swallow a de- coction of oil taken from the petrel, mixed with port wine. Out of every nine children born, five die in infancy. St. Kilda is formed almost wholly of steep cliffs rising to a 1 eight of one thousand two hundred and twenty feet, and access to it is possible only through ii. cleft in the rocks. Vessels approach it only during the three months of erammer. Only during these three months are any mails received on the island; and formerly the case was still worse, for the loyal subjects of the queen at St. Kilda did not hear of King William IV.'s death, and Victoria's accession to the throne, until three;years after the event. During all this thne the pastor of the church on the island continued to read the prayers for the king's life. Some time ago a dreadful tempest raged at St. Kilda, and the inhabitants having last much of their property and being in distress'and having several months to wait before the mail -boat would reach them, wrote the story of their sufferings, put it in a bottle as the survivors of a wreck at sea sometimes do, and threw it into the water. The bottle was picked up, delivered into the hands of the directors of the Free Kirk of Scotland at Edinburgh, to whom it was addressed, and a smell steamer was sent to St, Kilda with supplies. The life of the St. Kilda people 13 so prim- itive that only letely have tea, sugar and tobacco been sold among them. When the merchant who went there from Scotland to establish this trade arrived at the island, he found that the St. Kildaites were three hours behind the rest ot the kingdom in time, as the pastor' l watch, the only time- piece on the island, had lost that amount of time during the nine months that had inter- vened since a vessel had been there. • The less than fourscore people who live at St. Kilda are so influenced by the lonely lifa they lead, that the arrival of a vessel with sailors and passengers suffices to produce a sort of violent cold in the head, which the natives call the "boat cough," or "eight days' sickness," which is dangerous and sometimes fatal. In spite et their hard struggle for exis- tence, the people of this loneliest place in all Europe -chink that there is no isle like St. Kilda, and would not exchange it for au earthly paradith. Pure Air. Da not be afraid to go out of doors because it is a little colder then usual. The cold air will nothurtyouif you aro properly protect- ed and tale exercise enough to keep the circelatten active. On the contrary, it will do you good. It will purify your blood, it will strengthen your lungs, it will improve your digestion, it will afford a healthy) natural sti- mulus to your torpid circulation, and ener- gise your whole system, The inj ury whichof ten results from going into a cold atmosphere is occasioned by is lull of protectiouto some part of the body, exposure to strong draughts, or from breathing through the mouth, Things Impossible. To admit that our shoes hurt because they are too small. To listen cheerfully to a twice-told tale. To love a bore because he is good. To remember debt e aa vivklly ae we remember debtor. To be grateful in proportion to the intention of the benefactor, rather than isiproportion to what we receive. To feel as deep a remorse 'before as we feel after being foinid HEALTH. reeding the Sick. A very sick person must be fed at least as often as once in two hours, about four ounces, or half au ordinary teacupful, being given at a time. If he is taking milk and beef tea they may be alternated, one ration of beef tea neing given to two of milk. It is safer to err on the side of too much than too little nourishment. If it does not cause nausea, fietulence, vomiting or diarrhcea, it is being digested and is doing good. When the stomach is sensitive the feeding becomes a matter of great difficulty. Lime water should be mixed. with the milk in the pro- portion of four tablespoonful to the pint and it should be given ice cold. Try one tea- spoonful, if that is retained follow it in fifteen minutes with another, gradually in- creasing the quantity. 11 it is rejected, wait for halt an hour and try again. In dia- rrhoea, the milk should be heated to the boiling point and allowed to stand until cold before being used. Exeept when in a stupor from exhaustion, as sometimes occurs in typhoid fever'an invalid should not be wakened to be fed. During along sleep food should be prepared in readiness to be given at once on waking. A convalescent should take some light nourishment, as aglaes of warm milk, the list thing at night. Per- sons who are very ill should be fed in the eerily morning, from three o'olock until five. The powers ot life are then at their lowest ebb and ought to be reinforced. If ne- cessary, an extra covering must be added to the bed and a hot water bottle put to the feet. In feeding a helpless patient with solid food it should be cut into mouthfuls of a convenient size and fed slowly, ample time being allowed for it to be masticated and swaelowed with ease before offering the next. Nothing is more likely to take away the appetite of a weak person than to be hur- ried in eating. It should be remembered to bring salt with the food if itis liked, to offer a drink at intervals, and to anticipate every want as far as ispossible. In almost all diseases cold water and ice are permitted to be freely given. It is best not to ice the water when it can be avoided. If it is put into a atone pitcher, or jar cov- ered on the outside with a coarse cloth kept constantly wet, it will be sufficiere ly cooled by evaporation. A delirious, or uncon- scious person should be given a spoonful of water frequently if it can be swallowed, if not, the lips should be moistened. There may be the sensation of thirst although there is no power to express the want. Small pieces of ice can be chipped off a block by pressing the point of a stout pin near the edge of a lump; fragments will reak off in the direction of the grain. They keep best in a covered dish with a strainer, ike is butter dish, which allows the' water o strain away as the ice melts. A piece of etting tied over a cup and hollowed in the m nciddle to hold the lnmp will answer. The up should be covered with several folds of ewspaper to exclude the air. When stimulant is ordered, the exact qaantity to be given in twelve hours must be ascertained and divided into equal doses, o be given every hour, or mere often as ircumstances may require. If whiskey or brandy isgiven, anequalpartOf water should eadded unless some other preparation ifeex- pressly ordered. A strong dose of stirnu- ant is more effectual than the saime quanti- y diluted. If a sick person expresses a strong desire or some article of food it should be, men- ioned to the doctor. These cravings are ften nature's way of indicating that the Ystem lacks some constituent that the de- lved food is rich in. In giving stimulant or nourishrnent to a elirous or insensible person, wet the lips ently with the tip of the spoon; if this does ot indu3e the mouth to open, insert the ttle finger at the corner of the lips and raw the cheek gently away from the teeth; our in the liquid slowly and it will trickle nto the mouth between the interstices of In serious illness the sufferer must rely chiefly if not entirely. upon liquid food tee (Maamstrength. It is important that the nurse should know how to give it as skilful- ly as possible to avoid upnecerisaey fatigue to the patient. The utmost skill and care in the preparatioa of the feed will be thrown away if the invalid cannot be induced to take enough of 11 ±0 nourieh him properly, and the nurse fails in her first duty who does not devise meaus by which this shall be acconaplished. When the head cannot be mimed from the pillow a bent glass tube can be used to draw the fluid into the meuth. If the end is raised a little as it is removed not a, drop need be epilled. Where there is delirium is piece of tubber tubing may be eubstituted for this glees, the eufferer might break the tube and swallow is frag- ment of it, Feeding imps ef different shapes are sold with and without apouts. In using them be careful tei regulate the flow of liquid, that it does not come too fast. When its necessary to feed with a epoon, see that there is not is drop in the bottom of it, put it well in the mouth and empty the contents • slowly. Always place a napkin under the chin to catch chance drops and dry the lips gently with it after the food is given. When the invalid is stronger and desires to drink from a cup, the nurse should paps her left hand under the pillow and raise the head on it, holding it at is comfort- able angle, while with her right she grasps the cup, adjusting ib so the liquid will flow easily but not too fast. n 1 1 0 11 the teeth. Watch to see that one spoonful is swallowed before giving another, If this does not succeed, close the nostril3 with one hand and the mouth will be opened to breathe. Sometimes the nourishment hag to be given through a tube put down the throat, or by an enema, but in these cases the doctor will direct the operation. The difference between a tardy and a rapid convalescence depends very often up- on the nourishment. A slight indigestion, a little diarrhoea may bring back the worst symptoms of the disease. As much food as can be properly digested is required to re- pair the waste caused by illness; but it must be taken in smaller quantities and at shorter intervals than if the person were in health. A warm drink should be given at least as early as six o'clock in the morning, is light break- fast at nine, lunch at twelve, dinner at three, tea at six, and a supper rivaling the breakfast at nine; after which hour no invalid should be out of bed. A glass of milk or a cup a cocoa must be put where it can be taken in the night if it is needed. Neither tea nor coffee shoulil be given at night for fear of causing wakefulness. The tray of a conva- leecent should be arranged to tempt the eye as well as the palate. When the appetite is languid and capricious no means must be neglected to awaken the desire for food. The napkin mut be spotleers, the china pretty, the glass and silver shining. Soup Should be served in is hot cup with tiny squares of toast, bread cut into delicate slices diyided into four, butter rolled into tiny balls with the grooved paddles Sold for thepurpose, and thinatoes sliced with bits aice laid amongst them. WhateVer is cooked should be very hot, brought from the kitchen hi a hot, covered dish set over a bowl of boiling water, Fruit and °remit, jellies, etc., should be very cold,just taken off the fee; only a small quantity of rat* viand should be served. It fa better to re- plendish the dish than to ruu the risk d disgusting by offering too much At once. CANDLES, Ouo0oLATE GrizArir Ditors.---Mix, oaf cupful of cream with two cupfuls ot white sugar ; boit and stir fully five minutes; take it off and set the dish into auother (34 cold veeter end stir until it becemes hard en the edge, then make into bells about the Size ef matbles, and with is fork roll each one separately iu the chocolate, which has been prepared by steaming. Put them on brown paper to cool. Flavor with vanilla, if liked. This makes about fifty drops. PEANUT Ceemee—Boil One cupful of sugar mid one of naoleeises until it will be brittle when cold; stir in half a pint of peanuts just before taking it off the etove. Cut in squeree before it is cool enough to break. Ice CREAM CAM:T.—Take three cupfuls of sugar, crushed or loaf; a little less than one-half cupful of vinegar ; one and is half cupfuls of cold water ; a piece of butter of the Sin of a walnut; flavor with vanilla; boil without stirring until its spins a thread; then pull until white. CREAM WALNUTS.—Take two cupfuls of sugar; two-thirds cupful of water ; flavor with lemon or vanilla, and boil without stirring until ib vs id ;Tin a thread. Set it off into a dish with a little cold water in it ; stir briskly until white and creamy. Have some walnuts (English) ready shelled. Make the cream into email, round cakes with the fingers, and press half a walnut on each side. *For cream dates, take fresh dates, remove the stones, fill the centres with the same cream. Philadelphia claims to eat and make more candy, in proportion to population, than any other city in the country. There are 87 manufacturers and wholesalers and 1,200 re- tailers, and they use more than $1,000,000 of capital and consume 100,0001 one of sugar every year. Caramels are a great specialty of the trade in that city. For other places much chocolate and walnut candy and many gumdrops are made. Six tons of gumdrops were shipped from Philadelphia to Pittsburg the week before Christmas. Brooklyn makes the most chewing gum, it is said, and Boa. ton eats the most of it. Society Manners. What is the real secret of being agreeable? Every one wishes to be so, particularly at this social time of year. Is it a natural gift or c in it be acquired? There are those who thil and strive for it, but never attain it, and there are those who have it in great perfec- : on without the least apparent effort. The wish to be agreeable is part of the se- cret, provided the wish is strong enough to, overcome our indolence. One who goes to is party Sons stly determined to contribute his fair share to the general enjoyment, rarely fails to be agreeable. That resolve causes him to render his personal appearance as pleasing as possible, and this of itself is an important element of success. It is wonderful what spotless cleanliness and tasteful attire will do for people to whom nature has not been gracious. Be- sides disposing others to be easily pleased with us, it puts us in good humor with our- selves, and that helps us to get in friendly accord with the rest of the company. Those clubs and sociables which agree to meet without "dressing up," do not gener- ally last long. When people come together for any rational object, they ought to 'dress up." It is impossible to overdress, and to attach an unreasonable importance to ex- ternals; but, surely, this is an extreme less to be deplored than a boorish indifference to the impression we make on others. It is not well to put on clothes which are costly beyond our means, or splendid be- yond the occasion; but it is highly proper to express our respect for the company we enter by making ourselves as pleasing to the eye as we possibly can. The Minister's Old Thoroughbred. Something over half a century ago an ins tense rivalry existed between the inhabi. tants of Litchfield and of New Milford, in Connecticut, as to which of thoee villages had the fastest horse. 11 happened that the Rev. Dr. Taylor—is famous preacher of that day, and a ivarm personal friend of the Rev. Dr. Lyman leeecher''e—had an old thoroughbred horse that could outrun every- thing in that part of Connecticut. The young men of New Milford, being greatly worked up by the boasts of their Litchfiel& neighbours, called on Dr. Taylor, and asked him to let them have his horae for a trial of speed. The doctor shook his head, and said, My dear young friends, that would never do. It would not answer for a man in my position to be mixed up in any such affair. You can see for yourselves that it would never do." The young men however would not be put off. They argued the case at great length with the doetor, but he was inexorable. He would not be mixed up in such an affair. Supposing that the case was hopeless, they at last turned to go when the good doetor called out to one of them, "John, you will find the bridle behind the barn door I" The young man took the hint, andeels° the horse; and the doctor's old thoroughbred beat his Litchfield competitor out of sight. The Use uf Doves in War. It seems likely that carrier pigeons will play an important part in the next great European war. The French Minister for War j has ust given orders for the organization of the many carrier pigeon stations throughout the country upon a more satisfactory footing, and considerable importance is attached to the perfecting of these arrangements. In additions to 15 of these stations theme are in various parts of France 300 pigeon flying societiee owning among them 150,000 ''hom- ers." Eaoh of those societies has a military organizationkand in case of war all the pr- georts belonging to them would be at the service of the Intelligence Department. Germany possesses about the same number of carrierpigeon stations, which mist, L2500; a year to keep up, and there are 350 societies with 50,000 pigeons. In Italy pigeons are =Wady in use for conveying despatches be- tween the war office in Homeland the garrisons in Sicily and Sardinia. The experiments that have been made with pigeons tu Russia have not been very euccessful. The birds imported from Belgium can not withstand climate and the native ones laok staying power. Sweden, Spain and Switzerland all possess military, carrier pigeon stations. a Hurry. A landlord tnet a tenant wag, And said, "Without a doubt, sir, Unless you pay up, Mr. Bragg, You surely must get out, sir," Then promptly did the other say, His tone his hurry proving ; "DiteliSe Me, Sir, I'm riithed to'dElra And really must be moving.,"