HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Times, 1902-12-18, Page 3r.
The End of
The Stri]..e.
Mac dieoprdazit hooter :in the en-
gine-houee of the Shalebank Mine
proclaimed that the day's. shift" was
over, and, as ,the cage 'bearing its
living freight rolled into sight .from
the Inkyobscurity, the bodyguard of
constabulary • stood to attention,
Outside the gates a mob of scowl-
ing strikers had gathered, and a
chortle of imprecations went up from
them as they awaited the exodus of
the b3aeklegs.
It .was Christmas, Eve and the
exeow was falling.
In the village anxious -faced. women
woe endeavoring to quieten the wail
ing of their hungry children, and,
at the thought of them,the stub-
bor-a toilers clenched their gnarled
hands; in impotent fury and talked of
murder. The men within the gates
heard the clamor and edged closer
to their escort.
They were alien to the district, fog
no Shalebank man, save one, had
dared to ignore the fiat of the Union.
Jem Darby had fought out the
question with his conscience, and
bad failed . to see the necessity to
Puffer starvation for. the 'sake of
dee-re quibble; He could not stultify
his -reason. Tlie frenzied outcry that
had greeted his decision, the threats
of his incensed mates, had not al-
tered his resolution.
As he stepped from the cage that
aright and caught the chorus of curses
his grimy face was moved with a
pitying smile, and with bowed head
he (geode to the gate. ' The ser-
Ar-I.
er'-
y -„I laid his hand on his shoulder.
Zp
wetter not venture, my lad," fie
maid, gruffly; "it looks ugly.”
1Je shook. himself free. "Thank
'et, ;urate," he returned.. "Aa reckon
An, con' tek care o' raeself. ,
A howl of fury greeted his appear -
Anise. A girdle of cursing men hem-
med him in. A dozen clenched fists
were thrust in his face. Undismayed
and defiant he stood in the gateway,
his hand raised to enjoin silence.
"Metes," he said, dispassionately,
"yo' ]Snow what Aa think. The
reds -tees on'y want yo•to be on the
same footin' as t' Cinderbank chaps..
That's fair, Aa reckon. )(o'me a
cfeleamin' the . women • an' the inner-
oent kiddies becos yo've bin led away
an' fooled. God forgi'e ye for your
trlfildnoss'�"
A babel of imprecation silenced his
outburst, and a heavy hand gripped
his shoulder. Join recognized the
form. of his aggressor as that of his
former mate, Adam Stainton, and
his face flushed beneath the grime,
"Not yo", Adam, surely?" he mur•-
'anured,
The man's bearded face was con-
torted with passion. "Aye, are," he
•irauted, slrigely. "Look ye. Iver
V`pence thee wast alad Aa've treated
yo' as my own son; thees eat from
the same board as my lass an' my-
self, an' now, like a dog, tha' turns
against the hond that fed thee.
Jem, tlia'rt about at th' end of t'
rope. The chaps say Aa'rn to tell
'ee the' willna' put thy foot through
yon gate agen.".
"Adien," returned the young min-
er, "Aa've lived wi' '0e, as yo'.. say.
Yo' know well es it were come to
be looked on as a settled thing
'twixt Neil an' m:eself. Aa've allus
thgwt o' thee as a fayther. But, by
t' Lord Barrer, tha' mustna' threat-
en are, ode lad. Aa .tell 'en yo'rne
wrong. This very night Aa'm a-
gn' to tbe maister to try an' put
'irrisorablc business right. Think
ye, lads, to-morrer's Christmas — a
clay when ye .should bury all bitter
feelin's." • •
me announcement was greeted by
a furious outburst. Personal. suffer-
ing, the privations of their kin, and
the egging -on of the rraid agitators
had rendered them. incapable of rea-
son.
Adam Stainton turned and silenced
the clamor. "Bethink ye, .Join," he
-- eriod, earnestly. "Aa. tell 'ee we'me
none to he played tvi'. 7f the' per -
:dote in that, as true as thee stands
tlreer that' signs thy own ideathi-war-
rant." ,
Jem gently disengaged himself and,
with a look of suffering in . his eyes,
he muttered: • "Ged forgi'e 'ee .. .
urates ... Aa conna',"
Like a pack of ravening- wolves
they howled about him, when sud-
denly '
uddenly' the gates were opened wide
and, as they turned to harry flee
bladkLegs; he strode quickly down the
white roadway towards the village.
'.burning -off at the narrow, black
canal he tramped along the tow-
Path. As he "rounded the bend an-
other bridge' came into view, and `in
its ehadow he discerned the figure of
a woanan. Tier quick ear caught the
crunching of the snow under his
heavy footfall, and she turned to -
Weeds him, herr hand pressed -to her
breast,
1HasteningritHastening towards her, he took
or in his strong clew. -Her •delft,-
eyes were incapable of express-
her
xpress •her feelings, but her face eteves.
tj uent with love for her stalwart
tor. de''& glad smile she rres•tl-
' ee tip to niin and kissed hie, lips.
{Why, Nell, ode lass,"' he paid,
"tha'rt tr•ernblin'," Dids't think thy
lad wrist nobbled?'
"Ah, lad, An was :Omenfor 'ee,"-
;,he murmured. Fayther went ottt
ren hour ogone a -talkie' murder, Aa
beard 'otxr say they'd gi'eldee iust
else more charnce, an' if ye r efusoe
they'd knife 'ee like the dog the'
• West."
;iihe clung to..him p e:denately, her.
titteraitme choked ',vit/1 5obs,
Tile, will gi'e in, • Jem, for ray.
sole?" .
"Come, rn.v lass. tha'rt skecred,,'
he wed, tenderly. "T'1'ta,' niestna'
ritake
on So. Niver fear, h.e, i•ecicon they
willna,' try any dirty tricks rvi' rne,.
Ira toil•'ern just grow Atr.'!n 1L-goln'
to sec t' maister acid try to put
thinge :square. Be a exeiriblo lase,
tow. 'r'o'll see, it'll be a. brighter
Christmas dor 'cm all than iver they
expected, •l3ut this' must be .w'
WHAT WILL SANTA CLAUS BRING ?
goin'. Thy fayther maybap will b
suspicious."
He disengaged himself gently . from
her` embrace.
"Aye, Aa must goo," she murmur-
ed, "13ut tha'll tek care, lad? Aa
should die if ill befell thee."
"Niver 'fear, ode lass," he return-
ed, with a forced laugh. "It'll be
all' right. . Somrnut tells me."
The woman .twined her arm abon
his neck and kissed him again. "Go
keep 'ee, Jem," she whispered, and
tearing herself away, she stumble
up the ..bank to the roadway an
hurried.- towards ••, her home. Pre
sently he, too, reached the - village
and passed into his lodging. When
he emerged an hour later.it was.
growing dark. Buoyed up with the
hope that his reasoning would pre-
vail. with the master he set out on
his four -mile trudge. A man lurk
ing in the shadow watched him
swing along, and, with a muttered
curse, hastened towards the house of
Alam Stainton.
As he entered, half a .dozen strike
ers, who were sitting round the ta-
ble, raised their heads and rcgard,od
hfm inpuiringly, "He's gone!" „ h
said, curtly ;and the men looked' in
each others eyes with a sinister un
derstanding. The blind. girl was
cowering over a dyfng'afire. She
was crying silently.
Seth Workman, with a significant
smile, produced a murderous looking -
life -preserver and laid it on the ta
ble.
c her lips moving in prayer. Then rhe
strode towards the bridge, The men
heard her approaching, and prepared
for the rush. She began to whistle
the tune of an old-time caro], the
better to deceive : them,
As she slouched past they sprang
upon her from behind. There was a
dull thud as the deadly weapon
struck her head, and, without a
t murmur, she dropped to the ground.
d Witb e. toreent of curses the two
men dragged her 'body to the low
d parapet and, gathering it ulr, flung
d her over into the. black water: Then,
- their' "dastardly deed accornplished,
they tore away down the road,
Jem Darby, returning home, heard
the sudden splash and the hurried
scamper, and, fearing mischief was
afoot, raced towards the bridge. His
foot kicked against something which
lurk
lay in the snow, and stooping he
picked up a man's cap And then,
•below him iri the -water he heard
the stifled scream of a woman:
"J"—em!"
In a heart-beat he realized it all
and dasi,•yd down the bank. His
hands clutched her as she was 'sink
e ing into oblivion. Dragging her
out, he took her in his arms and
- staggered towards the village.
Straight for the house of Adam
Stainton he sped, showering endear-
ing terms upon his insensible bur-
den. As hethrust open the door
and stumbled in the two men sprang
to their feet , with fear -distorted
faces,
Laying her, all dripping, upon the
table, he turned and faced them.
"See, Mem," he jerked out;
"Aa've browt thee thy lass!"
The father stared at the uncon-
scious form before him incredulously,
and gradually a look of horror over-
spread -his face.
"�great heavenal " he cried, wildly,
roe/tiling to the wall. "It is my
lass, 'Blind Nell,' an' Aa ha' killed
her!"
His accomplice sidled to the door.
Jem interposed himself and faced
him.
"Wait a minute, Seth," he cried.
"Thi' const tell the chaps Aa've
sin th' maister and got 'im to gi'e
us the old scale agen. Further, tha'
const tell the ivinimin that to-mor-
rer there'll be plenty a-waitin' at t'
hall for them . as likes to fetch it.
Now, good Adam, thy lass bain't
dead. Thank God, the blow was
softened by the knot of hair be-
neath her cap. She will live to en-
joy many a Christmas wi' are yet,
Aa trust."
And as the bells clanged out their
message of goodwill the misguided
father, with a great choking cry,
staggered blindly across the room,.
and across the table their hands met
in a grip that betokened peace, -
London Tit -Bits.
"Adair," . he said, harshly, ' "two
ore us, Aa reckon, : con manage this
job. When yo'me ready.,,
The girl sprang up like a mad wo-
man and clung to her father's knees,
"Fayther," she screamed, hysteric-
ally; "1 willna' let dee go. 'E's my
nion. Ye slrallna' touch 'im!"
'"E's e blackleg!" he shouted.
"For such. as 'im there's no mercy.
'E's had fair warnin', an' by t'
Lorca Harry ',e must pay!"
With a curse he sent her reeling.,
and leaving her, stretched half sense-
less on the floor the strikers trooped
forth into the, night. For a time
she lay inanimate. Then, as her
scattered senses slowly returned, she
struggled into a ]cnceling posture and
Clutched at the table.
,'•My lad," she whispered, fearfully,
"they will kill him. Ah, merciful
Heaven, help me to save him—help
What could she do? They would
be waiting him on his return. The
picture of that meeting, horribly
vivid, flashed into her mind, and she
shrieked in mortal terror.
Suddenly a heaven -sen; inspiration
seized her and her ravings ceased
abruptly. Springing to her feet, she
stood inert as the way of salvation
was revealed to her. Shivering,, as
with cold, she stumbled up the
stairs. "God help me to be brave!"
she prayed.
An hour later she stole without;
transformed into the semblance of a
roughs collier, and slouched along in
the shadow until she had left the
village behind her. •
Skirting the mightypit-banks, she
gained a path that would bring her
out well up to the road: along which.
she knew lie must' return. The dark
r cis .Slid not delay her, for to her it.
was .}!]ways night, and along this
path she had often wandered with
her lover when the days had been
happy.
Presently she reached the road and
stole silently towards the village.
She bad gone scarce a hundred
yards, however, when she stopped,
transfixed. A little fartherr" on a dis-
used branch of the canal was span-
ned by 021 old bridge. It was here
the men were awaiting their victim.
They did not expect .him yet, , and
their hoarse muttering came to her.
quick ear through the darkness,
stilling the beating of her heart. For
minutes she stood there immovable,
until ° the muttering died away and
all was 'silence — a silence which
was broken at length by the plod,
plod of tootsteps far up the road-.
way,
brief iii5
For one b e taut she :waited,
A QUESTION OF FUNDS.
Some time ago a lady who was a
well-known advocate of woman's
rights was tackled bya pretentious'
young, duffer on het favorite sub-
ject. Finally her opponent wound
up his attack on the, pretensions of
the aspiring ladies by saying: "In
fact, madam, I think you would like
"
tobea ma.nl T which she ' softly
o s
replied: And wouldn't you?"
W4► -CR IEri.; ; )/WAS r(C1 3E4') +# -There in the' light s gleaming,
His worn ,face pale and .set,
A Girisimas
She told the old, sweet story
Of Bethlehem that night;
The while the yule-log'r,+ glory,
Sent up itsflickering light;
And lit the bright young faces,
Now hushed to quiet there,
;And brushed away the traces,
Thee lined the brow of tare,
It turned to thready of silver,
The old man's thin, gray hair.
Hie face seemed growing milder,
Among thoso children fair,
A world -worse face incl weary
Was his, with something yet,
Beneath 'Its aspect cheery,
That'he would .fain forget.
Ile thought of all his treasuro—
ilis Store of hoarded pelf;
But it had given .pleasure,
Not even to himself.
The while the 35u1e-log's glory
Went up le crimson Baine,
His sweet -voiced daughter's story
To silent ending came.
Her little children listener,
With cheeky; grown slightly pale,
And eyes • that moistly glistened,
To hear the Christ -child's wail.
Then looked each at the other
With wide and; startled eyes;
Then turned to look at mother,
In simple childish wise.
For where the yule -light flutters:
Across the window's rim
A cry, a child voice utters,
From out the shadow dim.
And from the ' circle springing,
A girl whose wavey,,.*hair
Had, fn its. meshes clinging
Five sununers' sunbeams fair,
Threw open wide the doorway,
And heard in accents- sweet,
"Please, may I turn in 'oor way;
'Tis told out in ee street?"
Then in tee yule -light's shining
A little stranger stood;
Ills small hands intertwining
The strings that tied his hood.
The childrengathered near hien,
And sought with tender -wiles,
To comfort, warm and cheer him,
And change his tears for smiles.
"I went to look for Doses.,
But dens he's gone up higher;
The wind it mostly feezes--
An' then I had to kye."
He lisped in his replying;
But watehed.the old man's hair,
The fire -light on it lying,
And came beside his chair
And whispered, "Is oo Beaus,.
An' wants us all to stay,
An' loves an' always sees .us,
An' s'ant I go away?"
'The old man's lips were smiling,
But teers were on their way;
The child's half doubt beguiling,
Ile said but one word, "Stay!"
But when good -nights were spoken,
And little stockings hung,
Beneath the mantel oaken,
Another stocking swung.
And evrapt in childish, slumber,
Upon the snow-white bed;
Among the old home number,
Reposed another. head..
The winter days seemed lighter—
Alike the children fared,
Their pleasnu•es all were !brighter,
Becausethey had been shared.
The child was sweet and lowly;
The old. roan said, arid smiled,
"The ,little one is holy,
To us a true Christ -child."
And never from thatdwelling, ,
The strange child .went again,
'Till tender buds were swelling,
In April's sun and rain.
Then, paler than the lily,
That blooms at Easter -tide,
Reposed the frail form .stilly;
They said th.e child had died.
When Easter bells were chiming,
IIe left them with theday;-
His footsteps upward climbing,
To Jesus found the way.
They read from some old volume
Found on a dusty shelf,
In language sweet; and solemn, •
"'Twas done to Christ's own self."
The old man's head bowed lowly,
Through tears• he said, and smiled,
"The little one was holy,
Ah yes, a true heist -child.
e C ,"
He read from that same volume,
Front off the clean -swept shelf,
The message sweet and solemn,
But thought not of himself..
tIo thought •of dwrelliivgs lonely
Where hungry children be;
Dat heard the Christ's words only,
"Thou didst it unto me!'
And though front sea and moor -Way
The wind swept fierce and far,.
The old man's stately' doorway,
Was always lett ajar.
And never•fr'omthat doorway
A' beggar went unblessed,
They came from town and moor -way,
And found both food and rest,
But when again at yule -tide
The great logo blaze and flare,
The old mater by his fireside,
Sat feebly in his chair,
The bright flamee upward leaping,
• Transtgured every hair,
The children thought hien
He sat sri (Viet there.
Held in its patient seeming,
No shadow of regret.
Awhile he sat reposing,
Them spoke again and smiled,
His dim eyes scarce unclosing,
"Let in the sweet 'Christ-chiidl"
The yule -logs blaze up brightly,
Low droops the silvery head;
Unclasp the thin hlznds lightly
The old man's soul has fled.
---MJW. P. A, HENRY,
13ownranville, Out,
OIlI� TOR CHRISTMAS,
Fig. 1 shows a very convenient lit-
tle article for use in traveling, and
it is also ornamental enough for my
lady's dainty dresser, It is called a
handkerchief press and is made of
two pieces of still- cardboard "four
inches square, covered on one side
with cilli of a solid color and on the.
other with a pretty flowered pat-
tern. Wadding and sachet powder
are used. The coverings are over-
handed together and the two covers
are held together with an elastic
band covered each side with inch -
wide r}bbpn stitchedtogether on the
edo 's. Twice the tenth of elastic
should be allowed for the ribbon cov-
ering, that it may be quite full.
Sow a graceful bow of the ribbon on
the top. ,
A double bag, one side for opera.
glasses and the other for tbe hand-
kerchief, is shown at Fig. 2. Three
oe four -inch wide stiff satin or flow-
ered ribbon is used. Fold together
so that the two ends will extend be-
yond the center 2 inches. Turn
back gads, hem and stitch again
half inch above hemming for a draw.
Use narrow ribbon for draw strings.
A cork protector for the large
wooden • needles leo much used in
knitting shawls is Fig. 8. A brass
ring a little smaller than diameter-
of
iameterof largest end of cork is crocheted
full with s c in a pretty shade of
green silk or silkateen. Mak four
rows of s c, then change silk to col-
or of flower desired. Be careful now
to make work ht cork. In 5th
round after every other s c, eh 15 or
mare if longer petals are liked, and
catch with s c ' next` stitch. Do
the same in every succeeding round;
it too full, make loops in every oth-
er round. After completing, a round
go back and fill each loop with 9 0.
Leave a few rounds in center of top
plain, making them with yellow silk
and also narrowing a little to fat
cork. Connect the two corks with
inch -wide green ribbon a little long- t
er than needles.
Six bogs in. one (Fig. d:) for 'sew
ing eaves nixing of spools and' the s
many small articles that so con-
stantly tangle in the work basket.
The bottom piece is a hseas on of
stiff cardboard covered with flower-
et silk or s'ilkateert, the edges over-
handed together, and to each of the
sides is attached a small bag whose
width is the same as one side of the a
hexagon. The small bags are made a
of tho sante material lined with a h
conteesting or harmonizing color. t
Places are made- for draw strings
and each bag is drawn up separate- a
ley -with two lengths of baby ribbon
tied in a little bow at both ends.•
s
$ i
REASONABLY SATISFACTORY.
Mrs. Dick — "Did ''you and JCR h
have good sport?" o
Dick — "Well, we didn't get any d
game but we didn't shoot each oth-
er."
.,,,s,E,g,":4*.4.4,44..,1
Christmas A
V OA
V laic a Ila
le A
Train
Four travelers, who were snow-
bound in a Western passenger train
on Christmas Eve speedily became
acquainted with each other and sat
about the stove at the end of the
car to "talk it over." One of the
men was a, drummer, another a cow-
boy, the third a big cattleman, and
the last the minister who tells , the
story. They finally fell into con-
versation with a poor woman and
her two children, the. only remaining
passengers, and found that the
mother, who had tried to maintain
herself by sewing since her husband's
death, was giving up the unequal
struggle and going home to live
with "grandma."
The little threadbare children had
been promised a joyous Christmas
there; and when they found that the
blocicacle would prevent their getting
further for the present they cried
bitterly until sleep quieted them.
Just before they dropped. off the
drununer remarked
"Say, parson, we've got to give
these chiidi•en some Christmas."
• "That's what !" said the cowboy.
"I'm agreed," added the cattle-
man..
The children were told to hang up
their stockings.
"Wo ain't got none," quavered the
little girl, " 'actin' -those we''ee got
on, and ma says it's too cold to
take 'em off."
"I've got two pairs of new woolen
socks,"said the cattleman eagerly.
"I ain't never worn em, and you're
welcome to 'em."
The children clapped their hands,
but their faces fell when the elder re-
marked :
"But Santa Claus will know
they're not our stockings. He'll put
in all the things' for you."
"Lord love you 1 roared the burly
cattleman. 'He won't bring me
nothin'. One of us'1l sit up, anyhow,
and tell him it's for you."
Then the children knelt down on
the floor of the car beside their im-
provised beds. Instinctively the
hands of the men went to their
heads, and at the first words of
"Now T lay me" hats were off.
The cowboy stood twirling 'his
hat and looking at the little kneeling
figures. The cattleman's vision seem-
ed dimmed, while in the eyes of the
traveling man shone a distant look—
s, look across snow -filled prairies to
a warmly lighted home. The children
were soon asleep. Then arose the
question of presents.
"It don't scent to me I've got any-
thing to give "em," said the cow-
boy, mournfully, "unless the little
kid might like my spurs. I'd give
my gun to the little girl, though on
general principles I don't like to
give up a gun."
"Never • mind, boys," said the
drummer, "you come along with Inc
o the baggage car."
So oft they trooped. Be opened
its trunks and spread before them
uch an array of basis and trinkets
as took away their breath.
"There," said he, "just pick out
the best things and I'll donate the
lot 1"
"No, you don't I said the cow-
boy. "I'm goin' to buy what I want
me pay for it, too, or else there
in't goin' to be no Christmas round
ere."
"That's my judgment, too," said
he. cattleman, and the minister
greed.
So they sat down to the task of
election. They spent hours over it
n breathless interest, and when their
gifts were ready there arose the
question of a Christmas tree. It
ad stopped snowing, and tramping
et into the moonlit night they cut
own a great piece of sage brush.
The mother adorned it with tinsel
paper, and the gifts were prettily
disposed. Christmas dawned for
two of the happiest children under
the sun, and a happy mother, too,
for inside the big plush album select-
ed for her the cattleman had slipped
a hundred -dollar bill.
Sarah — "Mr. Rippler says he is a
confirmed bachelor." Susie — "But
he didn't say how many girls in
town had assisted in confirming him,
did he?"
SUGGESTIONS FOR
CHRIST 1AS I'Ii;ESE: TSI
"LAUGH AND GROW T,""
I,AUGaiTGIt TREATMENT I1
CASES OT 13RONCBITIS,
Italian Physician Says It is
Sovereign Remedy in. Many
Cases,
The latest is the "laughter cure,"
which has the merit of being ra;-
tional if nothing elee, for from, time
immemorial the effect of a good
hearty laugh has been regarded as
a healthy tonic for the melancholic
and a restorative for the depressed.
Like other cures, the "laughter
cure" is not by any means; new, but
that fact does awl deteriorate its
therapeutic value, fol', after all,
what is ? Two thousand years ago
Hippocrates, the wise old father of
medicine, . stated his belief in the
value of laughter in counteracting
disease. He also tells us that be
was a firm 'believer in the beneficial
effect of merriment at meal rune,
as an aid to digestion.
Another ancient physician reconk-
mended a good laugh as a powerful,
means of "desopilating the spleen,"
whatever that may mean y while a
third writes of laughter as "a
mighty stimulant to the liver and a
lifter up of the heart. Corning to
more recent times, Foussagrives bee
/laved mirth to be the most power-
fat
owerfut lever of health, - while Tissot..
claims to have cured scrofulous chil-
dren by tickling there and making
them laugh.
Every one know the value and ne-
cessity of keeping the sick in good
spirits and a cheerful frame of mind.
Who has not heard of the man suf-
fering from quinsy and the •antics o1
the doctor with a batter pudding,
which caused the patient such . In-
finite amusement that he was cured
on the spot ? A similar story is
vouched for by De, Monteux, who re-
lates the strange case of a gentle-
man who got rid of an intermittent
fever after witnessing a performance
of "Le Mariage' tie Figaro,", at
which he had fairly roared with
laughter. The old proverb, "Laugh
and grow fat," had doubtless some
foundation in fact.
The latest advocate of the "laugh-
ter cure" is a well known Rallies
physician, who : a short time ago.
brought the subject before the Medico
Chirurgical society of Bologna, and
related his experiences of the re-
medy. The doctor stated that he
had used the laughter treatment • in
five cases of bronchitis and other
affections in which there was "a
morbid product in the bronchial
tubes.' .
He based his experiments on the
fact that laughter is . manifested
chiefly in certain convulsive and
partly involuntary actions of the
muscles of respiration, by means of
which the air being expelled from
the chest in a series of4xrks produces
a succession of short abrupt sounds.
He therefore contended that a good
laugh helped the expulsion of the
secretion of the bronchial tubes, and
produced a state of physical and
moral well being.
Ile admitted that there aright be
sometimes a difficulty in applying the
treatment, as susceptibility to
cachinnation varied according to
age, temperament, education, and
social position. The practitioner
must therefore always bear in mind
these varied conditions in selecting
the kind of joke suited to the patient
he is about to treat. For instance,
the story likely to tickle the aristo-
cratic ear of a society dame would
scarcely be calculated to induce
mirth in a lady holding advanced
views on women's rights.
The question or sex also needs due
consideration. Women are said (by
men). to he generally deficient in the
sense of humor, though curiously en-
ough they do not know it.
Care must also be taken lest the
remedy be too severe, as in a case
related by Baxikin, in which a young
lady was once induced to laugh im-
moderately and continued laughing
for four months. In the end she
was cured by hypnotic suggestion,
which one would think must have
proved a relief to her friends.
The question of race is another fac-
tor to take into account, for it is
well ]mown that some races—notably
the Latin—require something more
highly seasoned in the way of jokes
to cause mirth than the more stolid
and phlegmatic Anglo-Saxon. In the
case of the Scots, who, judging by
theircapacity for absorbing jokisb
matter, according to tradition are
credited with an abnormal develop-
ment of the cranium, the services of
a surgeon may be necessary in eon
junction with the ordinary prac-
titioner when the laughter cure 19
applied, as this race is stated to be
inunune against the jape or jest
without the -former's aid.
Again, the choice of a fit and suit
able person to administer the cure
is a matter for serious consideration
as it is obviously a matter in which
high scientific attainments and clini-
cal experience do not -.count. In some
cases it will probably be found that
an ordinary person may prove more
successful than the most learned
medico.
The Italian exponent of the
"laughter cure" warns would be
practitioners that the treatment is
not ,suit able ,foi• all diseases{; and
that it ,should not., be tried en .,pa-
tients suffering from heart affections,
pleurisy, and peritonitis. On the
other hand, in: cliesl coniplalnts,
such as bronchitis, in nephritis,
scurvy, neurosffs, abscess in the
pharynx', colic, kaundice, melan
cholia, and general depression, favor-
able results generally fellow e course
o/ the treatment. He claims that
it promotes respiration and may ,
supervene with a wholesale revulsive
action after a state of fear, . hiring
Which there has been deficient re -
isle veto ry
e-slevetory mo vein et) t, together with a
tendency to vtso-constriction,
Thus We may yet bear of a eourse
of "Mr. Boggs end Archie," or a
ticking under the fifth rib 'being- pre-
srxil7etl by physicians who trove been
Doe ertee to a belief In the use and
value of the "laughter Meek
c:
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