The Brussels Post, 1909-9-30, Page 6TIIE MYSTERIOS. (GY
OR,
PLANNING FOR TIM)
FUTURE,
CHAPTER, XXIII.
"The .explanation will not be a
pleasant task," sighed Laxly l3rom-
ley, with a sorrowful glance at Mrs.
Bryant, "It will evolve the bitter
aeoret of a lifetime, which has been
shared alone by my husband and
my dearest friend, Helen.
•"Of course, to make the situation
understood by all our friends," her
ladyship began, with a sigh, "I
must make the humiliating confes-
sion that I was secretly married
while 1 was at a boarding -school
near Boston. It was a rash act,
and one that I afterward repent-
ed in dust and ashes, although I
loved my husband most fondly, and
our life was a very happy ono, the
only cloud wpon our otherwise se-
rene sky being the fact that we had
no children, Sir Charles was on
a visit to this country when we be-
ame acquainted, a strong and abid-
ing affection springing up between
us almost immediately. When he
was suddenly recalled to England
by his father, he pleaded with all
the eloquence of which he was mas-
ter that I would become his wife
before he sailed.
"He asserted that he must make
sure of me before leaving me, but
as soon as my school -days were over
he would come immediately to claim
me from my father. I knew I was
not doing right, but I yielded to
his entreaties, and we were quietly
married, Helen alone being admit-
ted to our confidence. Our mar-
riage occurred during the Christ-
mas holidays, which my family be-
lieved I was spending at the home
of my friend, while in reality Char -
he and I passed them very happily
in Boston, making our home in one
of the Back Bay hotels. He sailed
about the first of January, and I
returned to school, happy in the
prospect of his return, when in a
few months 1 should graduate. Then
we were going to my home in Il-
linois together to confess our sec-
ret, make a little visit, after which
my husband would take me to Eng-
land.
"I exerted myself to the utmost
to make a gond showing in my class,
for I believed that Charlie woulcl
be present at commencement, and
I was ambitious for his sake, as
well as fur my own. But, alas! a
short time previous to the close of
the term he wrote ma that his fa-
ther eat very ill, and he could not
leave, bue he charged me to be of
good cheer—to go home as usual,
and he would fellow me the moment
he was free to leave his father. But
I famed that I could not go home
without bringing great reproach
upon both „nyself and family, and
is this extremity Helen proved her-
self to be my good angel.
"Her father and mother were up-
on the eve of going abroad, to be
absent a number of months, and at
her earnest solicitation they invit-
ed me to remain with her during
their a'ltsence, as otherwise she
would have to pass the time with
nc companion save the housekeeper
and one servant, who was the wife
of the lodgekeeper and gardener.
My father cheerfully accorded me
the desired permission, to my in-
tense relief, and then I tried to
possess my soul in patience while
awaiting the coming of my hus-
band.
"I was very unhappy in some re-
spects, for I realized that I had
OPIST
mould not have been kinder to ine.
Thus, in the hour el that terrib e
om•ergeney, she proved a tower of
strength and comfort to us both,
and promised to guard our secret
as sacredly as if it had been her
own. But alter the conning of my
little daughter there arose the ap
palling question; 'What is to be
come of us?' Charlie had takeu
the proofs of our marriage into his
possession for safe -keeping, and
thus, not knowing the justice who
lead performed the ceremony, it
was out of my power to substanti-
ate any statement which I might
make regarding our union. I actu-
ally dared not face my father — I
feared his bitter anger and repudi-
ation. True, Helen might have
helped me out, but she also dread-
ed the consequences of •such a dis-
olosure.
"The lodgekeeper's wife advised
us to send the child to some insti-
tution in the city, claiming that we
could easily keep track of it, and
perhaps find a good home for it
later on. At first I was wild over
such a proposition. I wanted my
darling. She was•mine, honorably
mine. ,She had my lost Charlie's
beautiful blue eyes, fair hair, and
complexion, and the mother -love
within me revolted against such an
unnatural act. But, on the other
hand, there was the fear of the cen-
sure of and ostracism from all my
friends, and the worse fact that
my chile} would be doomed all her
life to the suspicion of shameful
birth.
"For a week I fought with my
own heart and the arguments of
.Helen and the woman who eared
for me, until, weak, despairing,
and almost on the verge of insan-
ity, I was utterly incompetent to
think or reason lucidly. I was in
a very critical condition."
Lady Bromley became greatly
agitated at this point in her story,
whereupon Mrs. Bryant exclaimed,
although she was scarcely less
moved :
"Mabel, dear, let me tell the
rest. I alone am to blame for what
followed, and I will not shrink
from my share of reproach." Then
addressing their friends, she con-
tinued:
"When I realized Mabel's dan
ger I was terribI.y frightened. I
knew that Mary—the loclgekeeper's
wife—was afraid she was going to
die, and I was appalled at- the
thought of having the babe discov-
ered in the house in that event,
when the truth would all have to
come out and the fair fame of my
dearest friend be forever tarnished.
So I resolved to act upon my own
responsibility in accordance with
Mary's advice.
"One terribly stormy day 1 dress-
ed the child nicely. but with the
keenest heartache I ever experi-
enced in my life, determined to send
her adrift into the world. I do not
know what inspirer} me to the act,
but I went to Mabel's jewel -box,
took from it a little golden key
which I had often seen lying in it,
and :pinned it upon the -baby's
dress. Then I wrote a brief note
containing these words: 'Will some
kind woman take this child, or see
that it finds a good home where it
will be well reared? Nothing but
direst necessity compels her aban-
donment. She is well and honorab-
ly horn, met yet a relentless fate
done very wrong to deceive my makes her an outcast from her own
friends. If my mother had been kindred. A peculiar -shaped golden
living, I think I should have con- key is fastened to her clothing—it
fused all to her and thrown my- is her only heritage. Will who-
se! upon her love and mercy, for ever responds to this appeal insert
I was sorely in need of comfort andhi the early issue of the Boston
motherly advice. But I' had always Transcript, under the head of per -
stood in awe of my father, who was sonals, the following, X. Y. Z.—
rather austere and very strict with The golden key has unlocked a re-
bus children; and thus Iwas eon- deas tion s!ponsive heart," and relieve the
strained to keep up my p writer of this of a heavy burden!'
and preserve my secret until Char- ee pinned this also to the blan-
lie cane, when I trusted to him to ket in which the poor little waif was
smooth everything for me. wrapped. Mary administered an
"A fortnight or three weeks alter effective potion of soothing syrup,
the departure of Mr. and Mrs. At- and then. with the child wrapped
wood, the housekeeper was taken in a sett gray shawl and in a way
violently ill, and was obligee} to to attract as little attention as pos-
ge to a hospital in Boston. The sibls, I started out to consign her
summer passed, anti Segteniber in the tender merr,ie.s of a curtain
,came. Toward the last of the 'home' in the city, I enveloped
month 1 rer•eived a letter from myself in Mary's ample waterproof,
Charlie saying his father had died, and were a thick veil, hoping thus.
and that be should sail for Ameri- toeseapr recognition, while Iplate- rae}- therrntnt.ry over to recover
ca within a enek. Thee there fol- ped to make my trip in the short- her. For weeks lie inserted adver-
lowed a cahlc de p iti h, swing est possible time. Put when I ar• tier• urnis in the Transcript and
he would leave Livt rr' , 1 the. nest rived at the etat.ion in town, my ofi,:sr pnpere. ITe searched through -
day on the (:atalen a. Tire v •eel u,,,c,r,u,tamed burden had -Locum('' out Boston steel spent money un -
was that ill-fated r_,i aain:�.r wr,ieri. s„ -h.ivy I was obliged to rest be- sparingly, but all to no purpose,
was wrecked when cr,ly two clays fore. g,;iri; farthel•. So 1 went di- Tri response ever came ---nn clue In
£t'cni port. When I rcid the ir;,ert i•e.et}y to the private waitin;-renin, 11,e little one was ever obtained,
and finally the sorrowing ermine
were tx,rultelled to abandon all
discovered 'when they came otit, I
skipped stealthily into the other
room, and concealed myself behind
a 'door, to wait for them to leave
the. place, I was confident that
the baby would not wake, and se
felt safe to leave it for e few min-
utes. But I was very tired. I
had boon broken of my rest for
many nights, and 'was almost worn
out with anxiety and excitement,
and before I was aware that T was
even drowsy I had fallen soundly
asleep. I awoke, at. length, with
a terrible start, and, glancing at
the clock, found, to any dismay, that
I had slept fully half an. hour, In-
stantly remembering my ehargo
and my errand, I hurried tremb-
lingly auto the other room, to find
the baby gone 1"
CHA.PTEIt XXIV.
"I was appallcl, amazed, fright-
ened 1" Mrs. Bryant resumed, after
pausing a moment to recover from
a nervous trembling that seized
her as she recalled the terrible ex-
periences of that hour. "I fel'l's
almost like a murderess, with my
crime branded upon my brow. I
sank into the nearest seat, weak
and very nearly unconscious, -won-
dering what 1 should do, how I ever
could face Mabel if she recovered
and confess what had happened.
Then a comforting thought cane to
me. It was that no one would have
taken the child from the station
without first making inquiries and
creating an excitement in searching
for the mother, unless that one had
really wanted it. That no disturb-
ance had been made I was very
sure from the placid appearance
of the few people about, and the
woman in charge of the waiting -
room.
"Doutbless, some traveller, on
going into the inner room, had ob-
served the suspicious -looking bun-
dle, and, upon exarnining it, had
found the appealing note pinned to
the blanket, and so, yearning for
just such a child, had taken her to
surae home where she would be ten-
derly cared for. At least, I tried
to solace my aching heart and guil-
ty conscience by such reasoning as,
weary ano almost ill, I hastened
home, where 1 awaited with the
most harrowing impatience for the
next day's Transcript, hoping
against hope to find some response
to the appeal in my note.
"The paper came, but there was
no comfort in it for me. The.
second day. however, greatly to my
joy, I read the welcome words I
was looking for, and a great bur-
den roller} off my heart, I was re-
lieved in one way, and yet I was
filled with apprehension in another.
1 had no longer any fear regarding
the welfare of the child, but I
trembled to confess to Mabel, if
site recovered, that it was irretrie-
vably lost—that instead of being
placed in an institution, as we had
suggested, where we could see it
at any moment, or trace it, if giv-
en away, we could never hope, be-
cause of carelessness and neglect,
to know aught of its future.
"The third night afterward we
believed that my poor friend would
never know the truth, for it seem-
ed likely to be her last, and though
my heart was almost broken at the
thought of losing her, I tried to feel
that everything would bo rightly
adjusted in the unknown realm
whittler I believed she was going,
and her own grief-stricken heart at
rest. It proved to be the crisis,
for when the long night of watch-
ing was over, site began to rally.
A few days more and she was out
1,f danger, when I could endure my
burden no longer, and confessed
what I had done.
"I shall never forget the look of
hopeless despair that swept over
her face as she realizes} the truth
but she never uttered one word of
reproach or condemnation, It was
as if she recognized that a cruel
fate had set its iron heel upon her,
and she had nothing to do but sub-
mit to it in patient silence. I told
her, of course, of the restionse that
had come to me in the Transcript,
and this appeared to comfort her a
little. She simply said, with a gen-
tle sigh: '11 the poor little waif has
found a good home, and can be
reared in happy ignorance of her
origin, 1 suppose 1 ought to be
thankful.'
"But who shall describe what we
experienced when, about ten days
afterward, Sir Charles walked in
nen us, well and hearty and full
e.t bright anticipations for the fu-
ture? He was greatly shocked at
the change in his wife, but when he
leerned the truth about his child
he was horror-stricken, and for a
f -'w days we worn a most wretched
h ,n rhold. Ile declared that the.
]'tale one should he, found—lie would
tf ilii tragedy, t,,,rth'r meth ton
where I laid the child upon a great
names of tho;;e, t'i be l:ot table, which stands there to this
—Cliar' e's among these— the shriek clay,
nearly lullc'1
me, and nyl,ahy was "I had not Leen there five min -
horn a few L•+mrs afl(r :yard, rte, when two Girls whom I knew
"I .ihu.'iid hate- said that a few r,ntcrmd the rcnm. 1 rccngnized
weeke after the dc'riastnrc of the them by their wises, and though I
hue cleeper Helen aa;rl I clenic}ecl was in a corner where I could not
to til:' the ln(lnelmep, i•':; w ife into se, them. rut• 1hcy inn, I vias in mnr-
oui' cr,irfiden'e, and it Bite well that.tail fear lest they :houlsl c .py.nr..
we slid srnniari's VM" Th vp as.sed directly into.one. of
}nt,tiries•w•er'e, immediately enlisted. the roljeiniere rooms, however, acid
hi ink b half, nncown' nr .then, to
make of not
l
ern
g
hers.
"[s erten 55 Mabel tvai etrong
engin •li In travel; they left me and
went to her hnme, in Illinois. Sir
(•Larbit tried to be kir}, but I
Know, in his heart, he never for-
gave no' for iho lack cel that rob-
bed hire of his child," Mrs. Dry -
ant ennclndod, with a regretful
sigh,
"Helen, dear, why did you per -
slat in tormenting yourself ,,with
that old thought?" said Lady
.Bromley reproachfully. "1 am sure
Charlie was very grateful to you
t ion andself-sae-
like
el - ae-
for all yet r devott nt s f s
rifioe for me. It is you who have
never forgiven yourself, but now 1
bops yoti will forget it all and re -
jams with me in the recovery of
My lost one."
"I do, believe me," said Mrs,
Bryant, .bending a fond look upon
both mother and 'daughter, and
then her fortitude forsook her and
she burst into tears of mingled gra-
titude and regret.•
"Well, this is the most thrilling
story of its kind that has ever eolith
within my.,se,rsonal oxpeisieece, •anti
1 have helped to ferret out some
very curious facts regarding the bis-
tory of various individuals!" Mr.
Lvttleton here interposed, to draw
attention from the weeping woman
Lgive her time to recover her -
"It was•a terrible experience. No
one will over know what Charlie
and I endured during the few weeks
following his return to me," ob-
served Lady Bromley, with emo-
tion, "I do not like to dwell upon
it. If my mother had only been
alive, we need never have lost our
child, for I would have flown to
her in my trouble. but, as I 'have
said, 1 feared my father. You
know how austere—how relentless
he was, Richard, You remember
that it, was with great reluctance
that he forgave me, even when
Charlie and I appeared before him
and confessed our marriage. Had
not my husband been a wealthy
baronet, I believe he never would
have overlooked my rash act. Be-
fore leaving Boston, Helen, Char-
lie, and I pledged ourselves Hover
to reveal the secret about our little
one. It was to remain looked for-
ever away in our own hearts,"
"How about the woman Mary
and her husband?" questioned her
brother. •
"Her husband never knew any
thing of what oecuured," her lady-
ship replied: "He was away at
work -en a farm belonging to Mr.
Atwood during almost the whole
of my illness; the coachman was
attending to his duties about the
residence, and as they did not live
upon the place, they never came
into the house. Mary we paid
handsomely, and swore her to sec-
recy, anti Helen thinks she was true
as long as she lived; she diet} three
years afterward. Now you can un-
derstand, Richard, why, in spite of
our strong affection for each other,
Charlie and I were sometimes so
depressed during those weeks we
spent at home. You used to rally
us about it occasionally, you know.
Before sailing for England we went
en. to Boston once more, to make
a last attempt to recover the child.
But it was a, useless journey, and
tie finally gave up our search and
went home. Our loss seemed a pe-
culiarly trying one, in view of the
fact that no other children ever
came to us. It was th.e one dark
cloud upon the otherwise clear sky
of our exi=tense, and though we
seldom talked about it, yet each
knew that the other grieved in sec -
rot over the feet,
(To be continued.)
WILY IIICII FOLKS STEAL.
The Views of a (Celebrated Paris
Physician.
Why clo women shoppers who
have plenty of money steal things
which they do nut need'?
Others have dismissed the phe-
nomenon after giving it a name—
lcleptomania — but a celebrated
Paris physician and criminologist,
has gone straight to 120 of the fair
culprits for their own version of
the matter.
The interest of these cases is in-
creased by the fact that although
a few professional thieves and some
persons who are driven to theft by
poverty may be among their num-
ber, by far the majority of these
shop thieves are ladies in easy cin
cumstances. Some of them, lucked,
are rich.
Here are some leading facts from
the criminologist's investigations,
The women only thieve in the large
shops. The majority of them are
in easy circumstances, anti many
cf them are rich. The articles they
take are often of no use to them,
err they do not need them, or they
have aheady in their ]tone similar
articles, and often more than they
require,
Another point is that when ar-
rested at the dour of the shop they
readily distinguish from the rest of
their possessions the stolen article,
and many of them admit possession
of it with an expression of mists.,
as if they had felt burdened b;v its
weight.
Many persons, again, go a e1i •p
farther, Asiticipating their ques-
tioner, they nceuee thurneelvee of
former thefts committed in ehnilar
cireurnstanees, and describe the
stolen articles they have in their
ir,mes.
As it rale, the geecls have not
Leen worn or user}, and they fre-
(fuent}y still bear the ticket of the
elem. Finally the same e:cplanas.
tinny are given in nearly every
0110(1,
"It vvas trio strong ler me—I lost
my hcacl�•I thought that everything
belonged to vie ---if I had not been
detected I should' have gone en al-
ways.".
k
About the Farm
444.iH.+++++++++++++t t +4ele
PUMPKINfa 1S 00W FEEL.
In all of the Eastern States
where pumplcins are extens:now
grown they are used for cow feed
in the late fall and early winter
months, and as long as :they can
bo kept without doteriorat`•oa. Pos•
sibly they mould be kept all wiuser
under prelim: conditions of starage,
but they'are such a bulky food that
a -very large place is required tri
storm enough of them to last a large
herd through the winter months,
They aro not only hollow int•ide,
but their round shape make; them
space -consumers in storage. I re-
gard the pumpkin as equivalent to
silage for feed, but when we have
the problem of feeding many cows
it is much easier to build a the that
will hold several tons of silage than
to build a receptacle for several
toms of pumpkins, writes Me J. P.
Fletcher. Moreover, the purnekins
must be eold enough to prevent
them from decaying, for the air
will get into any receptacle in
which they can be placed.
With silage the temperature
makes little difference if it does not
reach the point where it freezes. I
have foancl in the feeding of pump-
kins that we can feed about forty
pounds per day per cow to advant-
age, and with some cows the milk
production will be greatly increas-
ed. I have, however, had occasion-
al cows where the ,effect of feeding
pumpkins was to eause the cows to
lay on fat and decrease their milk
production. There are very few
experiments to which we can point
relative to the value of feeding
pumpkins. In one experiment that
I have in mind that was a gain of
six per cent. more milk when
pumpkins were fed than before they
were admitted into the ration.
There is no better place to plant
pumpkin seed than in the corn field.
The corn field, or a proportion of it,
is just the plane for them. Seeds
placed in alternate hills of the same
row of corn will give ample room
for the growth of the vines, and
they will usually bear well. The
great advantage about feeding
pumpkins is that the men who
have no silos can feed them, and
nearly all men who keep cows have
no silos.
SMALL PRACTICAL SILO.
It is well understood that to give
plenty of milk a cow must have
succulent food. Grass meets the
need from late spring to early fall,
and silage in the winter months.
But can a farmer or a dairyman
having from one to ten cows only
afford a silo, and what is the smal-
iest o will prove l ? crossing a desert. One day, as I
This qusilestionthat has heen propound- was watching some camels lying in
ed by a contemporary, and a con- the sun, I learned how the store
as they are correctives and are
relislzcd by the hogs.
Brood for utility every time,
Too many of mux' so-called profess
sioual breeders have become cra
rakdexport certain fancy points an
limas sight of everything Also in
;their efforts to stamp uniformity
or. markings in their herds.
I'lvery fanner should have a few
well bred hogs as they aro waste
savers.
Feed tate young pigs whole oats
or, •a platform in an enclosure by
themselves, .
Liee take the life right out of
Mega. They can not $'row; they
cannot take a minute's comfort
with thein. Spray, if you can't
dip. Even an old broom dipped
in spraying solution is better 'than
nothing.
a.
•
Tini WELL-13II.ED CAMEL.,
Manners of ' These Animals are
Generally Perfecta
"Whenever I recall the sacred
city of Iairowan, my ear is aware
of the dull, soft sound of the eam-
el's leisurely tread," declares Mr.
Graham Petrie, in his boon on
"Tunis, Kairowan and Carthage.":
The camel is ubiquitous in this
city; one meets him at every turn,
pursuing every oecupatio•n, humble
and exalted.
He draws the carts, ,he treads the
wheat, he grinds the Corn, and he
carries such enormous burdens of
hay and fodder that ono wonders
if indeed, his poor humped back
would not be broken by adding the
proverbial straw.
Although his occupations are me-
nial, although his figure is gro-
tesque and ungainly, although his
eyes are often covered' with blink-
ers and his .mouth enclosed by a
nosebag, although his neck is de-
nuded of its long, handsome collar
and his body clipped and shaved
till his skin is as bare as aplucked
ostrich, although he is lodged in
filthy stables and beaten with
sticks by heartless boys, ha never
loses his dignity of bearing.
The manners of the camel are
generally perfect, as is noticeable
when one sees a score or more
drinking at one of the many wells
outside the town.
Arranging themselves in regular
and orderly rows on either side of
the trough, they stretch out their
long necks and suck' up the water
with a solemnity and orderliness
that would do credit to the formal
etiquette of a Chinese. mandarin.
There is no rude hustling for place,
iso indecorous haste, no selfish and
ill-bred disregard of neighbors'
needs and the rights of others.
When a camel has assuaged his
thirst, he quietly withdraws, and
with a graceful motion of the neck
which suggests a courteous bow of
thanks, another takes his place.
Every one knows that a camel is
able to carry a store of water which
will last him for many days when
tributor, Mr. Edward Van Alstyne
has tried to answer it. It will pro-
bably be too late to build a aflo—
at leant it—by the time this article
i:; read, Nevertheless, this is not
the last year in which such things
are needed, and Mr. Van Alstyne•s
suggestions should be remembered.
They are:
"This question comes to me again
as it has many times before. Its
answer, like many others of like
nature, depends largely on the man.
For some with one cow it would be
a practical thing to sink a molasses
hogshead in the around anti fill it
with cut corn. Its practicability
would depend upon the amount of
roughage available, and the lack of
other succulent foods, as well as
the means at hand for growing tate
corn, and putting it into the silo,
Now these same principals obtain
in every case upto ten cows. After
that in any ease where corn will
grow, and the silage milk can be
sold. I believe it not a question,
'Can I afford a silo?' but 'Can I
afford not to have one?' The aver-
age feeding season is about five
months, or 150 clays. The ordinary
cow will eat about forty pounds of
silage daily, or three tons in this
period; ten cows mean thirty tons.
,t round silo twenty feet deep (I
do not believe it wise to have one
of less depth), and twelve feet
across would hold thirty-eight tons,
allowing for' settling, would mean
-just about thirty tons actual, One
the same height and fourteen feet
in diameter would hold fifty tons,.
about forty actual after settling,
This would cost but a trifle more
to build, anti would hold enough
more for a longer season, more
cows or summer feeding, either of
these certainly a practical thing."
BRISTLES.
The hog lots should he dry. Burn
over the feeding places at least
once a year.
Hogs sit/Add have plenty of clean
water to drink, and their feeding
troughs should be kept clean,
Dry meal can be fed in shallow
troughs; hogs chew it well,
Wien the little pigs .aro weaned
put the: sow out of their hearing
fora while,
Titice Dare not to allow food to
sour in the pig troughs. 'Feed just
what the figs will eat up clean; 11
any remtuns clean it out,
Charcoal, sulphur and salt should
)3e kept in every pen and hog, lot,
was utilized. I saw a small irride-
scent bubble appear from the
mouth of one of then, which rap-
idly expanded till it was the size
of a football For a moment it
hung there, looking quite beauti-
ful, if a little uncanny, as it re-
flected all the colors of tate rain-
bow in the brilliant glare of the
African noon. Then there came a
liquid, gurgling sound as the water
passed down the throat into ,the
stomach, It is really quite a pret-
ty spectacle.
A STRENU0US HOLIDAY.
Iiinston Churchill to be the Kai -
set's Guest.
Mr. Winston Churchill, President
of the British Board of Trade, has
been invited by the German Em-
peror to be present at the'German
military manoeuvres at Wuitem
burg this month. General Sir
Bruce Hamilton will also be pre-
sent, as well as the Archduke Franz
Ferdinand of Austria-Hungary,
land General Chefket Pasha, the
famous;Young Turk leader.
The Kaiser expects his guests to
devote twenty hours a clay to the
manoeuvres, They will be awak-
ened at 3 in the morning, and tak-
ing the train for the field at 4
o'clock, an hour later, wilt be in
ttiheonirs, saddles ler the day's opera -
Each day is taken up with hard,
long rides on horseback or in mo-
tor -cars. The Kaiser himself goes
ungrudgingly through tate fatigues
of the mimic campaign, and delights
to set his rests an example of en
durance by ,+euthering a pelting
rain -storax in the saddle•
German efiilcer"i of h£gn peeitioi'
will be attached to Mr. Churchill.
and General Hamilton to inform:
them mimite]y'regarding the pur-
pose and the progress of the era
nouvres,
1W .hen the field operations are
over the Imperial guests are re-
galed each eight with exhaustive
debates on tho day's results and
the morrows plans, With some
good luck they may retire by 11
o'clock, but un no eirctttnstauees
are t' ey allowed more than four
hours' sleep.
Veteran foreign officers who have
had experience both of actual war-
fare and of the "Kaiser manoeu-
vres" say t' at. the latter are in-
comparably more exhausting.
TH
LEPROSY.
There is possibly no disease the
preseneo of •whieb inspires greaterf
fear in the public mind than dogs
leprosy. This is perhaps in a num-
the-disease in its later stages, but
it is in most oases simply fear of ,a
Hernsuree,clue to the loathsomeness of
The disease, or diseases, spoken
of as'lepeosy in the Bible are po-
aulai•ly supposed to be the. same
as the leprosy of to -day, and the
evident fear the leper inspired in
drpeeopleadwiof th olwhied is b izc}d to justify
the he•is still -re•
rdeBiblical descriptions
ga d. Tho
do not,. however, fit modern lep-
rosy; so that, whether the fear of
the "leper" of olden times was or
was not justified, it sbould not be
allowed tos. dolor the view with,
which the leper of to -day is regard-
ed.
Leprosy is, indeed, an infectious
disease; that is to say, it is due
to the presence in the tissues of a.
bacillus, known generally as Han
sen's bacillus, after the Norwegian
physician who discovered it. But
whether it in contagious, under the
ordinary conditions of modern life,
in temperate climates, at least, is:
held by specialists in diseases of the,
skin to he very doubtful,
Of the few lepers known to the
physicians in all the larger ,cities,.
tome aro eared for in hospitals,
others live at home and visit the
•clinics of the doctor's office from
time to time; yet an 'instance in
which another person has acquired
the disease from any of these lep-
ers is unknown.
There are many, diseases more to
be dreaded than leprosy, because.
more rapidly fatal, more painful,
ormote contagious; yet none of
them, except perhaps smallpox, ie.
more feared.
The illogical terror of leprosy
may be the eause of great cruelty
to those afflicted. There are thou-
sands of people who show culpable
indifference to the enforcement of
the laws against spitting in public
places, although they know tuber-
culosis binges largely upon care in
this regard. Yet these same per-
sons would fly in horror from any
plaoo that had harbored a leper.—
Youth's Companion.
IN Teen SICK ROOM.
Flaxseed Lemonade.—Over four
tablespoonfuls flaxseed pour one
quart boiling water, let steep four
hours, strain through niece of lin-
en, and add sugar and lepton juice
tin taste. This is soothing for colds.
Slippery Elm Tea.—Pour onecup-
ful of boiling water over one tea-
spoonful of elm bark. When cold
strainand add lemon juice and
sugar to taste. Goodin case of in-
flammation of the mucous mem-
brane of the throat.
PASSING OF THE PARIAH.
Dogs Will Not Run Loose in Con.
start tin ople.
One of the oldest institutions in
Constantinople is to be swept away
by the reforming zeal of the Young
Turks. After the end of the pre-
sent month no more pariah dogs
are to be allowed to run loose about
De streets.
For centuries these animals have
acted as the scavengers of the city,
and what will happen if they aro
cleared off without proper provis-
ion being made for doing the work
titat they have hitherto accom-
plished remains to be seen.
Certain it is that other experi-
ments in this direction have result-
ed more or less disastrously, Thus
Abdul Medjid, the reforming Sultan
of the nineteenth century, nearly
provoked a revolution by banish-
ing the dogs—they were found to
number over eighty thousand at
that time -to the island in the Sea
eh Marmora. Plague followed hard
upon their removal, and the Coan-
mander of the Faithful was only
too glad to bow to public opinion,
and have them back again.
On another occasion a certain
Chief of Police starter} emigrating
them in batches morose to Asia 14Ii-
nor; or at least he said that that
was their destination, Aa a mat-
ter of fact, he had the poor brutes
secretly and .quietly drowned in the
middle of the Black Sea, and the
populace, finding not what was go-
ing on, tore him limb from limb,
and set fire to, and burnt to the
water's edge, the dog transport ship
that was lying at the quay waiting
for its next living load.
, For these mangy mongrels aro
greatlyy, beloved by the lower or-
ders .C,f( Oasestnntinoplo, who glad-
ly share with thein their scanty
meals, besides impx'0viaisg for them
kennels out of old bas'rola, boxes,
and so forth,
-
Tho dogs, in return, act, at ern seta
to their patrons' property, warn-
ing off all strangers in a nann.ts
mine can gainsay or .fail tte nndo,e-
stancl,
And their adaptability is marvel-
lous. , The coming of the railway
affeeted them not at all. They
usedto the electric trans, Ever
the advent of b' e motor -'bus in the
,narrow, eroolcnd, i]1 -it tv, d stree'es
has nob greatly disturbed their
equaninettya