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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1892-5-5, Page 2Wbe Old-rinie Circus. 1 want ter ses the old-tinte The "ns yeas tocomiza iuter town; I want ter bear the leanci, I want tor see the clown. On Demon Swaynen old pasture lot I'd see 'ern pitelt their tent, An' wateli. the sherpers fleece the jays That came tor see the elephene 1 want ter see tho old-terie circle> With rigs no more then one; want tor see the same old clown Sp full of pranke an. fun, • I want ter see thet quaint old. chap Witli forty coats upon, his bt ck, As usect ter tuinble inter the ring And. want ter ride around, the tragic, I want ter see tbe men in spangles, thro" the air; wait ter see that blitbsome little witch ' As rode the spotted mare. Oh, destine maidS 011. spotted mete ! (My heart's a-ilutter— tOis, 1 syrear !) A .BARITONE'S DEVOTION • It A TALE OF SUNNY ITALY. " Yee" he said, " it is th.e hardest lot. Yet, my own, you told me to go out ; and even if you asked me, which I 1Mo w you never would do, I could not now tura my back." " Of course not," she said, eagerly ; "you will goon, and its the (tun right must win. Perhaps they will no longer care for each other, or perhaps—indeed, I try nib to wish itexitotly—Comerio might die, or —2, " Don't let us try to look on," said end°, with a shuader. " God helping me, L'Il be faithful to death, but I °met , manage more than a day at a time. And see, int own, the sun is shining again and the rein is over. • It is hard to say it, but I don't think we have any business to stay here longer. Your father might justly complain, and we will not give him cause to do that." She clang to him, while her tears rained down. Kete could not see her face, but the sunlight fell full upou hi', revealing plainly the terrible struggle ha was passing through. It was all she could do to keep from sobbing when this man, whom she had disliked and half despised—this man whose life she had cotnpared to the barren tigtree. began to speak. " See, coginci," he said, falling back to his native language, and speaking with the direct simplicity which is as rare as it is attractive ; " God is so just—so fair— don't you think He must be nearest those who suffer? We have to be separated, darling, but yet there is compensation for us both. We can surely trust/Tim with our lives—yes, e.ncl delight in that !" "Bub I can't help being afraid for you," she sobbed; "you are so far away, and how • can I tell what may be happening when that bad man hates you so, and wants to get rid of you ?" "Yet it is often when we fear most that we learn not to fear," he said. "Oh, I remember so web the first time that came to nee ! I was about Gigi's age; it was at the time of one of the earthquake panics, and I remember waking in an awful fright and trembling at the darkness and loneli- ness, then finding that there was One nearer than my mother, and that the house might fall or be. swallowed up, yet He would be with us." What followed was inaudible to Kate, but presently througk her tears she saw that after a long embrace they p need, that he held the door open for Francesca, and let her pass out into the sunshine alone, then shut himself in once more, and began to pace to and fro in agitation whichalarmed her. 1 She saw how strong a restraint he must have put on himself when Francesca was present, but now the limits of endurance seemed to be passed; he could but let his wild grief drive Min as it would. Kate held her breath for awe while he paced to and fro, pausing for a while with it groan, and resting his head on his upraised hands as they clutched for support at the rough, wooden wall, then once more pacing the little room faster and yet faster, till with it stifled cry he threw himself down on the ground, and broke into passionate sobbing and tears. The waiting seemed terribly long to her; she tried not to look at him, and fixed her eyes on the red and white flowers in the altar -vases, but still each stifled sob fell on her ear; and she, who had ever deemed herself a model of self-control, found her tears streaming down merely for sympathy. She had never seen it man cry before ; in- deed, she had cherished the idea, common to most girls, that men never do cry. The sight frightened her; it moved her strangely, and the relief was indescribable when at last he grew calmer. Presently, with intervals between, came broken snatches of prayer, spoken always in Italian. "My God! it must be that since Thou hest shown me Thy will Thou wilt give me strength to do it." 4, * * * * * * "1 know that Thou art stronger than these fiends that tear me." "If I could feel Thee near all would be light, but I am in darkness and torment — past feeling—past thinking." e * 11* * " Yet the darkness is no darkness to Thee. Suffer me not to be false and selfish —a coward—a recreant ?" Again, after a long pause, the stillness of the hut was broken, - but there was the dawning now of hope and triumph in his tone. ' "My Lord, I thank Thee that Thou wert no passionless angel here, but a man—a man tempted as I am tempted. By Thy victory, by Thy faith, by Thy perfect love, oh, Christ, sem me now!" Kate ?Tailed in cramped, painful stillness, half fearing, half hoping to hear more ; but he did not say another word, and after a *le rose to his feet and crossed the hut to ' tank at the weather. Tho sun was shining brightly; he stood by the window for some minutes,apparently in deep thought; then, with a sigh, glanced lingeringly round the little room, arranged his manifold wraps in1 the Italian fashion against which Kate had been wont to inveigle, and left the summer. 1 When his footsteps had died away in the . distance Kate snatched up her VASES and fled. Left to herself once more, Kate at still musing. The strange and almost unprece- dented insight she had gained that after, noon into the heart and life of another had altered her whole World. Through that revelation she saw everything in a new Itght, and the change bewildered her ; she Wanted time to think, for all her precon- ceived theoriea were overthrown; and though the actual sight of that struggle and victory had taught her more than thousands of sermons, or libraries of "good hooks," it had also sent her away with a crushing Renee of her otvrt ehortcoinings. Very honestly she sat and looked at her life. Her greatest wish had always been not to work among the respectable and humdrum poor, but to resew the had from lives of shame. She was constantly hanItering after this c pratictibn Work, and bitterly remented the ' assurance that she Was too young to handle ; etich titibtects This afternoon, in the light of the new roveletion, Kato remembered with burning eheme how angry ,ehe had been when tWei or three times she had tried to make in- quiries as to the stieee of morale in theatricel life, and Carlo had courteously but firmly turned the ebnyersation, She had Accused hirn in her own mind of shuffling and evading the topic—had imagined everything bed of him • aud eow she tound that thia very man wilowould not disonos the matter, and who had none of the surface enthiusiasin of her friends, had quietly devoted his life to the work of saving one woman. Again she weut back to her recollection of that scene in the hut. What was it that had given Carlo power to choose this hard, distasteful life 7 Why had he been able to leave Frencesoin and bear shame and loss and grief? It was not that his love for her was less keen than the love of other men ; oa the contrary, the passionate fervor of his love had terrified, had transcended all her dreamof what love ia the best of men might mean. The clock striking five recalled her to the necessity of going down -stairs, and of get. tiug through as best the might the dreaded meeting. It aerves me right," she thought to her- self, sadly. "1 have been conceited and patronizing, have looked on everything and spoken of everybody as from it superior height, and now neat% that I have been taking false, distorted views, and have to begin life all over again." The loss of her old self-confidence was no pleasant sensation, however salutary. it might be ; she entered the drawing -room apprehensively, and hardly knew whether to feel relieved or dieappointed when she found Carlo bending over his copy of Verdi's " Ernani," aud looking exactly as urinal. Perhaps she had not expected to see him bearing it long &CO, or an expression of con- ventionally pious resignation, but yet it astonished her to find that after passing through so nuxch a man could in two hours' time so oompletely have regained control over look and voice and manner. "1 shall quite miss this delightful Hotelier, institution of kettledrum " he remarked, pushing aide his book, and as usual coming forward to help her. " Pm afraid nothing would make it fit in, though, with the hours we have to keep." • .A. great lump rose in Kate's throat as she remembered how foolish and disagreeable she had been to him on the day when Fran- cesca's letter had arrived, and had made him so absent-minded. "And tea, I suppote, is not good before singing," she replied, putting forth the first platitude that came into her bead. "No," he said, with a smile which was wholly peasant, and had no suspicion of sarcasm. "There are a few thinge which must be renounced even by the Neros who fiddle while Rome is burning !" The genuinely humorous look in the eyes which bat a little while ago she bad seen full of tears touched Kate ; she felt half choked, and her usually ready words fal- tered. "1 want to beg your pardon for saying that," she began, hesitatingly • "1 don't really know anything about stage life—I— I-1 (the admission was hard to make) "have never even been inside a theatre; only soznehow one gets in the way of pick- ing up other people's notions and echoing them without really finding out the truth. I had no right to say such a thing, I hope you will forgive me." His warm-hearted Italian, reception of the apology a little overwhelmed her, and she was glad that the entrance of Clare and the girls made the talk more general. " It is not I who ought to convert you, but the many English actors and actresses now living, who by their noble efforts to raise the drama, aud by their own pure and upright lives, give the lie to the old view which the Puritans were no doubt quite warranted in holding. Or, if you will not be converted by the living, at least study the lives of the dead ; think of such is man as Phelps, such a woman as your Mrs. Siddons !" The talk was interrupted by an abrupt question from Molly: " What can have become of Francesca? I never knew her late for tea before." Kate felt herself coloring, but was re- lieved when Carlo quietly turned off the remark. "Don't you think she may be finishing her sketch in the church ?" he said. "Oh, yes," said Molly, quite satisfied, "and perhaps she will stay on and hear them practice the anthem for to -morrow. It is our yearly festival to -morrow, you know. By the bye, Kate, have you done the vases ?" "Yes," said Kate snatching up a biscuit, and crossing the room to feed Bevis, that her burning cheeks might not attract notice. Francesca did not appear till dinner- time; Kate glanced at her then apprehen- sively, and saw that she had not been nearly so successful as Carlo in getting rid of alt traces of her emotion. It must have been patent to any one with eyes in his head that she had been crying; and Harry, with the inconvenient candor which cousins and brothers often exhibit, commented across the table on her appearance. By this time Kato had recovered her pre- sence of mind, and bravely kept the ball going, Clare helping her adroitly, and the lovers feeling relieved that all had been so well tided over. Kate was conscious all through the evening that Carlo was shield- ing Francesca from observation, talking more than usual to cover her silence, car- rying Harry off to sing when he was making his way to the shady corner of the drawing. room where she had ensconsed herself, and skilfully contriving to lead the conversation round to cards by volunteering to show them sorne Italian tricks, from which they somehow glided naturally into a rubber. "He is managing us all," thought Kate to herself, admitting that the sensation was novel ; " but it is for Francesca's sake ; he does not seem to think about himself. How will he dispose of me, I wonder ?" She was not,left long in doubt, for at that minute he turned to her. "You have. no class this evening ?" he enquired. "Then I wish you would play us once more those Kinderscenen of Schu. mann's which you played the other night." "Yes, Kate, do play," urged Harry ; "I always get on better at whist with music going." Whereupon Carlo began to tell them a story which he had once heard of a gamb- ler's wife, whose miserable lot it was every evening to sit at the piano, where in a mir- ror, she could see the handsof herIntsband'a dupes and reveal to him by her playing what cards they held. While he talked he had been finding her music for her; then, with one swift glance toward the quiet corner where Francesca sat with her iieedlework, he went back to the card table. Kate could see him from where she sat, and as she played on dreamily, inusing over that strange afternoon, and watching Carlo's untroubled face, she said to herself again and again, "1 have been it fool 1 a fool 1 He is the bravest man I ever met, and the best!" Mia Claremont told all to Mr. Britton that evening, and it was agreed that when she could find a good opportunity ehe should allow Carlo to one that she knew about his betrothal and its abrupt ending. A few words spoken by Mo, Kavanaugh, the dooton titer his gnat 'vide to Carlo the next morning, made her doubly desirous to talk the whole matter over with him, and she was not sorry that the festival evening proved t90 cold and damp for him to risk goiug to church, so that he was left quite alone, and gladly excepted her invitation to come and chat comfortably over the ;school room fire. " This sort of life is very spoiling," he said, throwing himself beck in au arm -chair with the easy grace which characterized all his movements, and glancing round the de- lightfully snug, home -like room. "1 can't think what it is that you English people do to your homes ; there is is charm about them one does not seem to get elsewhere." "1 wish you could have seen a little more of Engles home life," said Clare. n If only you had been strong enough there are sev- eral people about here whom I shegld have liked you to meet." "It is better not, perhaps," he replied; "I should only grow discontented with the life I shall have to go back to, and feel the contrast all the more betwoen'houses like this and the dingy lodging -houses and third-rate hotels which We have to inn • quent" It must be a wretched life, wo:ndering from place to place," she said. t He sighed a little, • "There are is few discomforts, but, after all, they are but trifles." "Then they are not very highly educated, I suppose, the members of Signor Merlino's company ?" "No, except as regards music. Of course, • you know 1 am not is bit intellectual my- self, and am nothing of it reader; but, all the same, I breathe better in this sort of atmosphere, perhaps merely because it is ‘vhat I was aocustomed to at home. If it were not for Sardoni, who is witty and eleven I don't know how I should bear the memotny of it. Sometimes I wo 1 give anything to beolder and clevere many one would he able to alter the straps orka ancl his power as a talker, might ere— Enrico Ritter, for instance, with h• brains revolution in the greenroom." "I suppose Signor Sardoni is ?bur only friend ?" she said. "Oh, he is it sort of brother tole, but many of them are my friends. That is one thing which makes up for many °thtn. short- comings in stage life —thp wonderful. good - nature. I can't tell you how good-natured most of them have been to me, though I came among them as a novice, and jam by far the youngest in the company." "1 want to tell you," began CI ,a lit- tle nervously, "that I have learned the true facts of the case.Ma, ton, an you know, knew much and the rest ; and I hope, Carlo, you not be vexed that I, too, should know it. It was very blind of me never to h n how matters were with you and France .P) "You really know about that !" he ex- claimed, with relief. " Then we can talk quite plainly. I am glad that .you know, more glad than I can tell you. I have longed to talk to you about it all these weeks. And then, too, you will be such is comfort to Francesca. It ou will< take care of her next week—when I am gone. His voice shook, and Clare felt the tears starting to her eyes for sympathy. "You told me that you promised your mother to be with Madame Merlin° ' she said; "but if she had known all thil,t the promise would cost you,do you think, she would have wished you to keep itT" "Perhaps not ; but I don't see that one San get any aort of guidance out Of that. i It s not because I made the promi4 that I must go on with the life, but because I know it to be right—know that I am called to do it" "1 suppose it would not havaelltainee pos- sible to induce your sister to leave the stage ?" No. Her husband would neon have consented to it for one thing; and then, even if she had done so, there would have been nothing to prevent Comerio from end- • ing his engagement with Merlino, and fol- lowing her wherever she choose to settle down. There was no way but this—there is no way.'• " Such a ease is surely a heavy indiot- ment against theatrical life," said Clare. "Do you think, so? That seems to be j hardly ust. A scandal connected with the stage is in every one's mouth, but the sins of private people are hushed up and kindly forgotten, though there is not really more immorality among us than among them." Clare was silent for some minutes ; it was very hard to withstand the mingled humility and self-reliance which seemed so strangely blended in Carlo's character. "Yet, surely," she urged, "there is a noble mistake which you may be falling into—an exaggerated self-sacrifice, a need- less throwing away of life and happiness? After all, you know, the command is to love our neighbors as ourselves." "Do you quite think that ?" he said. "1 thought it was now, Love one another as I have loved you.' It ought not to be as impossible as it seems to live out that rule." You must recollect how ill you have been," she continued. "It is true, you have recovered wonderfully fast, but it was a very severe attack of pleurisy; it seems to me that you ought to think very seri- • ously indeed before venturing on thewestern winter. And even if your health stands the life, it is so miserable for you '• I can't bear to think that you should have to go on with it year after year." As she spoke, a vision of his future life rose before him. He thought of the monotonous gossip of the greenroom, the perpetual bustle and confusion, the mani- fold packings and unpackings, the desolate lodgings, the long journeys; he thought of the mutts of Gomez, the ill -temper of Mer - lino, the stinging words and cold manner of Anita, the unwelcome love and admiration of sentimental women, and, above all, of the daily martyrdom of separation from Francesca. His heart sank down like lead. "It is humiliating to be such a creature of moods," he said; last night I had got to the point of being content and even happy to have been oalled out to battle and here am hankering after love, and home, and peace again. Man is a contradictory animal, Clare !" ' "If you are sure—quite sure—that you are choosing rightly, I will not say a word," she replied. "Bub you and Francesca are very dear to me and Inan'b bear to think that you may be throwing away your life on a hopeless task, and bringing such a terrible grief to her. She is so youn and fragile, so little fitted to bear great sorrow." He tried to speak, but his voice failed him ; he pushed back his chair and took several turns up and down the room, then returned to the fireside, and stood with his elbows on the mantel -piece and his head iri his hands. "You gee, Carlo," she resumed, "1 cent help wishing Francesca to have the happiest life, and though I would be the last to say that a single woman may not be extremely happy and useful, yet it does no good to blink the fact that her life is incom- plete. You will think it strange that is very happy old maid of 50 should speak ike this, bet Fanny Ketnbleti words are very true Those who are alone must learn to be lonely'; and we old people, who know how herd that is, shrink from the thought of the young ones rotting out on the rough of anguish that she aorely regretted her words. mist not turn back like a coward, even for the love of her ; but it is hard—so fearfully hard—when the very saints of the earth tempt on ! And that she should have to suffer—that eeems so un- just, so intolerable 1" She signed to him to sit down on the sofa beside her, and looked with her quiet, shining eyes into his troubled ones. "Francesca will not think that intoler- e.ble ; to sho,re your pain will be her coup fort. And since you are called to melte this choice, which will bring shadow on both your lives, why then I have nothing more to say. Once sure of God's will, we need not trouble about the rest." "And if I choose my owu will now, why, I should not be fit to make Francesca happy," he said, musingly. "Sometimes, Clare, it seems to me that the Donati are fated to give their lives fora. forlorn hope." " It is strange," she said "but your very name means, '4 given man.' " "Does Carlo mean 'man'? I never knew that before." He took her hand in his courtly Italian fashion and kissed it. " It is thinking what you have made of life, Clare, that will help us most," he said. She colored, and her eyes filled with tears. "To be able to talk to you and write to you freely will be a comfort to Francon:we and do you think, Clare, you would some- times write to me ?" ' "01 course I will," she replied, warnaly. "Thank you ; that will be something to look forward to. You see it is rather dreary to have no belongings in the world. Enrioo Ritter is my only correspondent ; for, though my old maestro writes everynow and then, he confines himself strictly to Ms one subject." At that moment they were interrupted by one of the extraordinary coincidences which afford subject -matter to the Society for Psychical Researoh. CHAPTER XXXI. A NEW PROPOSAL. " Twogentlementoseeyou, sir," announced the servant, advancing with a visiting -card on the salver. Carlo having just given out that he had no belongings be the world, wondered who could possibly have arrived at this time in the evening to see him, and while the foot- man crossed the school -room, had had time to wonder whether 'Merlin° or Sardoni might, for some reason, need him; whether it could be a plot of Comerio's ; whether Uncle Guido had at last relented and come to seek him out and make up their quarrel. To his utter astonishment he read. on the card the name of " "Now, of all extraordinary things, that the dear old maestro should come here just as I was speaking of him!" he exclaimed. " And the other? He sent in no card? Is he young, light -haired, German -looking ?" No, sir," replied the servent, "middle- aged, and looked like an English gentleman. He gave no card, sir." Carlo's hope that possibly Enrico might have acme over with Piale faded away, and, asking Clare to excuse him, he went down quickly to the drawing -room, where with one swift glance he perceived a stranger, tall, thin, business -like, evidently English, and dear old Plate himself, with his thick bush of grizzled hair, his parchment -like skin, and his eager, fiery eyes. The warmth of the greeting between master and pupil must have amused the stranger, but perhaps he was well used to demonstrative foreigners, for the business- like air never forsook him for an instant as he watched the face and figure of the young "There, sir! now let me introduce you to my best pupil—not looking so much the worse for his illness as I had feared 1" "1 had the pleasure of hearing Signor Donati several times in town last wiuter," said the Englishman, pleasantly; "and am glad to make his acquaintance.' And your voice, my son," said Plate, eagerly— it has really not suffered, you think ? ' "It seems all the better for the rest," said Carlo; "and I hope to be at work again in a week's time.' "Let me hear you 1" said Plate. "Come what will you sing to me? 'II balen ' Largo al factotum ? ' What have we here? Carmen ! ' Are you studying that ?" " Yes ; we are to give it in America this autumn." "Let me hear what you make of the toreador's song 1" said the maestro seating himself at the piano. " But you are tired with your journey," soggested Carlo. "You- say yoli have travelled night and day. Let me come over to -morrow to Ashborough and sing to you there." "Bah 1" exclaimed Palen with a snort of contempt. "Am I to find more refresh- ment in eating or drinking or sleeping than in music, my friend, ?" And with an expression of intense satis- faction he thundered out the introduction to the song, while Carlo obediently braced himself up to sing anxious as ever to please the autocratic old man, but a little nervous about attempting this particular song, which he had only studied by himself, and slightly troubled by speculations as to the English stranger and Piale's hurried journey. Once before the maestro had plotted against him, and he could not help fancying that the stranger had something to do with a possi- ble engagement. All this fader', however, the instant he began to sing. Piale's accompaniment was exhilarating. For the first time he began to feel that he was Escamillo, and his rendering of the song brought a look of perfect serenity over the maestro's lace, and drew 'forth hearty exclamations of " Bravo 1 bravo !" from the business -like Englishman. He had hardly returned to himself and ceased to be the toreador, when both visitors beset him, Plate with an impetuous gust of words, the stranger with more eagerness of manner than might be expected of an Englishman. He listened half be- wildered to the proposal, only taking in by degrees that the stranger was a well-known London manager, that he was offering him an immediate engagement—precisely the engagement which Would most advance his professional career—that the terms were higher than anything he had ever dreamed of attaining to, that they made his weekly pittance in Merlino's company eeem more than ever scanty and insufficient For a minute he was dazzled by the brilliant prospects' held out before him. Fame, a rapid and otriking success, wealth and ease, thoroughly competent felloWartists, the London world at his feet, and his future assured—what wonder if such a glowing possibility should for a mintite attract him? And attract him it did. He longed for it as a few hours 'before he could not have believed it possible that he should have longed for anything having no connection with Francesca. It seemed to him impossi- ble to turn from this bright future to the diemal drudgery in the provinces with Mer- lino—the poverty, and hard work, and scant Sympathy. He was young and longed tor happiness --an artist, and longed to bring his art to its highest perfection under the best eonditiorui—a human being and spore. road by which vre have travelled." ciation was (Sheering, and lack of recognized "Clare, for God's oak° say no mote I" he oeneeenag, exclaimed., turning toward her a face so full To be Continued. POINTERS. The Right Titian to do on is VarletY or occasions, Harper's Bazcvr solves the perplexities of is number of inquirers with the following useful paragraphs : A best man" attends his friend to the altar, holds his hat and keeps the ring until it is needed. He sends the bride as hand- somo a present as he can afford—a bracelet, fen, (spent glass, piece of silver or a pretty bit of furniture, is set of teacupe or is dia- mond star. Wedding presents may be sent in any manner, direct from a shop, by your servant or by express. Attach your calling card, upon which you may write, " Congratula. tions," or leave it plain, as you choose. Use the chaperon's name first—as Mrs. Smith, lot me introduce Miss Robinson." Jai introducing a gentleman to is lady—even though he be "a celebrity "—soy, " Miss Brown, let me present Mr. Jones." Naturally the caller would first greet the member of the receiving party with whom she is acquainted and then be by her pre- sented to the others. A card sent to an evening affair does not lessen the necessity of a cah of acknowledgment afterward. The ladies of the family should ordinarily take precedence of the solitary masculine guest, unless he is other than they, a clergy- man or in some way distinguished, when the girls ano.y wait their turn. It is a matter of choice at "afternoon tee, " whether you have your apparatus at hand in the drawing -room and make and held the tea yourself or have it made out- side and brought in by a maid. It is not only not correct" but is in wretchedly bad taste to put "No presents" upon a wedding invitation. Certainly send your invitation, whether the peraon be out of town or not. Let a gentleman making a oall take care of his hat without your assistance. He can either leave it in the hall or carry ib into the parlor. Place the acldreis at the head of yoar let- ter, the date at the end. A card sent upou the day of the tea is sufficient, and counts the sante as if you attended. Inclose your card in it small envelope, scarcely larger than your card—such as is intended specially for cards. For a birthday gift to it young lady send flowers, a book or a basket of fruit, an etch- ing or is pretty flower -pin for her bonnet. A Most Desirable Work. One of the most lereeentable and desirable books of the year xs "The Practical Home Physician and Encyclopaedia of Medicine," revised to 1892, just published by the World Publishing Co., Guelph. The great success of the old edition warrants the belief that the new work will meet with popular favor. Useful as the old work was,and excellent as was the execution of the mechanical part of the work of its production, the new edition far surpasses it in all respects. It contains over 1,300 pages of beautiful print, 30 full page colored plates, two sectioned manikins colored to life, and hundreds of other en- gravings. Among its special features may be noted an index of symptoms of diseases, which will be found of great value in the family; hundreds of colored plates of plants and herbs, with descriptions and uses; an exhaustive treatise on la grippe ; a prescrip- tion given by Sir Andrew Clark to the late Sir John A. Macdonald, for dyspepsia; manikin and chart of the head, and brain sections, illustrations of cases of leprosy, tumorous and other diseases. The fullest instructions are given to enable the unpractised to detect the beginnings of disease and decide as to its seriousness or otherwise, and in thia way alone the work will prove invaluable in the family, where sometimes ignorance leads to fatal delay in eutnmoning medical aid. The treatment for the simpler ailments is plainly set forth and the diseases and management of children are fully treated. Poisons and their anti- dotes, the treatment of wounds and how to act in emergencies, form valuable features of the work. One thing that strikes the reader is the freedom from technical terms in the text, making the instructions intel- ligible at a glance. The work is well spoken of by physicians who always prefer to treat a patient who has some knowledge of him- self and some realization of how vast a field is that of medicine. A study of the work will do much to correct bad habits and brinu about conformity with the rules of health so clearlyunfolded. It will prevent many from becoming victims of unprincipled quacks—or what is almost as bad, their own ignorance. "Prevention is better than cure," and those who regard the teachings herein will avoid many an acheand pain. Among the anthers con- tributing to its pages are such eminent phy- sicians as Dr. Lyman, Professor of Nervous Diseases in Rush Mello -al College, Chicago; Dr. Fenger, professor of pathology and gen- eral Practice in Chicago Medical College; Dr. Belfield, Prof. of Urinary and Private Diseases in Rush Medical College; Dr. Jones, of London, Eng. (on Diseases of Women) ; Drs. Burr, King, Harper and many others. The typography and binding are be keeping with the general excellence of the work. Poor Scanlan. Comedian Scanlan, who is in Blooming- dale Asylum, New York, fully realizes where he ts and frequently remarks : "It's all for the best, turd I will soon be cured." He is anxious to get well and tells the physicians that he will be able to leave in the fall and start on a theatrical tour. He sleeps and eats well, but he is an awfully changed man. At times he site for hours looking out of the window and will talk to no one. He has no hesitation in telling people he will not ,talk, but does it very politely. His ease is incurable. His frienas visit him very frequently, and he is always glad to see them. Consumptives ! Do not give up until you have tried Mil- ler's Emulsion of Pure Cod Liver Oil, which makes flesh and blood; is a positive cure for coughs and colds, bronchitis, sore throats, and all lung troubles tending to consump- tion. • Persons have been known to gain from 5 to 10 pounds in weight by taking one bottle of Millerti Emulsion of Cod Liver Oil, which contains hypophosphites of lime and soda. In big bottles, 50c. and $1, at all drug stores. • love In Kentucky. Scene, Louisville residence ; time, 10.30 P.m. Masculine Voice (from head of stairs)— Young man, I reckon you don't know the saloons in this neighborhood close at 11 Kentucky Lover—Good night, my own, I must hurry. Though all mankind is made of dust, according to the Bible, the New York Herald thinks that different kinds of dust were used for different elastics of people /t suggests that philosophers must have been blade of sant deist, old maids of tea dust and the dear girls of diamond dust. Is ist not impossible to meet with a plurap refttstil from it slender girl. The battles between coWboys and dabble thieves in Dakota coritieue. A. dead beat 16 s: Man who doetin't Work himeellf, but worka everybody eke. A WESTERN TERROR!. Issetdcnts of is Severe slow as Exuerieneett in ibe litalresfas• North Dakota newspapere tell of many remarleo.ble and interesting iucidents of the "severe blow," as the nativee cell a bliz- zard, which tore things up and froze then down through the State is week or tett dayst ago. People on this side of Dakota, ob- serves the New York Son, have but little knowledge of the terrific force of the wind and the terrible intensity of its cold as it sweeps over the immense stretohes of the prairie, with nothing to stop it or check its fury. A freight car ab one place was driven along the line before the wind at a, great speed. After running ten miles it picked up two more cern and, the track being perfectly Level, the oars attained it frightful speed, and were blown along through several towns until they struck an. up grade. The passengers on a Great Northern train aaw is pathetic sights between Minton and Ardock. A team. of horses, frozen stiff, lay beside the triune. The driver sat bolt upright in the waggon, and the passengera thought he was all right. A party that went back to give him assistance found hint dead, and frozen so stiff that he was im- movable. A young man while end driving a pair of mules hitched to a sled, and lead- ing a cow, was struck by the blizzard. He out loose from the sled, left cow and tiled, tied the lines around his body, and etarted. the mules homeward on the dead run. The conductor of a passenger train, which was struck by the blizzard, was afraid to cross the bridge over the Missouri during the blow. He telegraphed to Jamestown for orders and was (Old to go ahead. The bridge is high, and the wind was blowing at a terrific: rate. The conductor says that, as an absolute foot, the front cars were rotting only on the wheels:Oa the south side during most of the trip over, and every minute he expected to Hee the train blown off into the river. It is not ein uncommon thing on the wide stretohes of prairie for cars on the aide tracks to be blown over by the gales. An unoccupied frame house at Rolling Green was picked tip and carried a distance of 500feet, and set down with a whack. but right :aide up. • Concerning Church Entertainments. St. John (N. B.) Telegraph : A lady "Inquirer "writes the Telegraph asking for information " as to the code of observancea expected from church entertaiuments, or the committee in charge of tickets, with re- gard to the press." She writes that she haa frequently served on such committees, and was formerly much in favor of giving come plimentarytickets to the newspapers, but has materially changed her mind. Her reasons for the change appear to be twofold. She fails to see the benefit of a notice given after the entertainment is over, and she has found that churches which issue no complt- mentary 'tickets 'in many cesee receive quite as complimentary notices as those that do. It is perhaps hardly necessary to say the " Inquirer ' in this case is not a resident of St. John. There is, we believe, no written code of observance in the matter to which we OEM refer our fair correspondent, and it appears that the practice differs in different localities. The common sense of the case would appear to be that if the managers of a church entertainment desire it to reoeive newspaper notice they should invite the representatives of the press to attend. If it is desired that the general public should also attend the entertainment should be ad- e vertised in is local newspaper at regular NIL, advertisinng rates for a suitable length of time beforehand. The managers of theatrical and operatic performances are wise in their generation and are \ liberal patrons of the newspaper advertia- ing columns. Sometimes the managing coni- mittee of a church tea meeting hope to attain the same result by using the preacher for advertising purposes, or by distributing a dollar's worth of handbills. They sow sparingly and reap scantily. In other cases the newspapers are besought to give gratui- tous notices for an entertainment to which an admission fee is charged. This should never be done except in cases where the beneficiaries are subjects of charity. It is quite as fair to ask a merchant to give away his goods as to ask a newspaper manager to, give away his advertising space. The average newspaper reporter,who may have to attend from three to six entertain- ments in an evening and write some account of them all, does not always place a very great value on the complimentery tickets sent to him, but he recognizes a courteous intention in the case, and in his hurried rounds is more likely to visit and take notice of an advertised entertainment to which he is invited than another. We do not know of anything more that "we ought to say in reply to " Inquirer," but if necessary these remarks caa be extended hereafter. The Emersonian Test. "1 shall not open the door, Harvardson," said the Boston wife at 2 o'clock a. "until I have satisfactory evidence that you have not been apending the evening in riotous conviviality." " Your precaution,, my dear, replied the Boston husband, who, stood shivering upon the outside "16 natural bub =necessary. I have been in attendance at an unusually interesting eession of the Zoroaster Club." With clear, distinct enunciation, he then repeated rapidly this passage from Emersonn essay on Plato : Seashore, sea seen from the shore, shore seen kern the sea." And the door was thrown open at once. —Chicago Tribune. • De Dated Tobacco. A minister annoyed by tobacco chewing thus spoke to his congregation "Take: your quid of tobacco out of your mouth oil entering the house of God, and gently lay it on the outer edge of the sidewalk or on thter fence. It will positively be there when you go out, for a rat won't take it, a cat won't take it, a dog won't take it, neither will is hog, you are certabrof your quid when go' after it. Not the filthiest vermin on earth would touch it" ' TEE Christian Guardian paysthis tribute,' to the late Hon. Alex. Mackenzie : That opinions in regard to the political course of a public man are divided, is ate inevitable result of the party system ; but honesty of con- duct and purity of intention are qualities which eltolasses delight to honor, and in the life of this departed i.tatesman theta) qualities shone conspicuous. He was a diligent public servant, faithful to the truSt reposed in him, of inexor- able adherence to convictions a duty. Though great in point of intellectual endowment, he was greater still in his recognition of the morel and religions principles which coOdern true statesmanship, and towards which ite bask endeavors aspire and tend. 'With theee views his first aim was to know, not whether a cer- tain course wee politic, but whether it was tight. Eis name and fame will have a sure and. honorable place in the history of his country. A—I hear your nephew fa studying for the Medical profession. Is he making good progress? B --Oh, yes ; he already bleeds inc to perfection. When a Man gets religion right his home boon finds- it' otitt—Parati Hors. Mr. David Mortice, assistant superintend - ant of the G. T. R. now located at London,. was preeeitted with an address' and s purse of geld by infante at Niagara Falk last night. '