HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1899-8-4, Page 22
THI1 $13.IIS$7:1I S POST.
AUG, 4, 1899
°'S'�'JIM'�"10"`""a•o"w.rt.l''-'"`d.6'ti"�1d'�+..i''a,
Diamond Cut Diamond. -
OR,
THE ROUT OF THE ENEMY.
CHAP'lhllt XX XVIII,
On the Mauday moments, quite a gay
little cavalcade set forth from Hidden
House, at an early hour, in order to
be in geed time et the meet at Wil-
don Gorse.
Geoffrey rode the chestnut, he had
mounted Dutele upon Ids it e u l horse,
a plain -looking bay, whose auraewhat.
ungainly appearance ',;t,'i compensated.
for by his clever per'for m:met• : in the
field. Mlles was on a eveedy-lucking
old crook, hired from the livery stables
at Lilminster, a t !tin, rakish t her, ugh -
bred
er,ugh-
bl'ed animal, now chewing decile,' s is
of age and over -work, whilst Angel was
for the Brat time mounter! upon The
Mom'.
A" southerly wind and a clr udy sky,'
gave promise of all that the hearts of
sportsmen onn desire, end the little
party set forth in the best °t. spirits.
Geoffrey had returned from town
late on Saturday night, having spent
two day in negotiations, and inter-
views with both his senior itariners.
There bad been, of course, what Dulrie
celled " A Row." lir. Halliday ran his
hands despairingly rhrouch his white
hair and began by swearing by alt his
vele that nothing—no, not bine !—
would ever make him consent to -awe
a beggarly marriage for his daugh-
ter, but after long pensua'si n and many
words he finally dissolved into tears,
declared himself to be a miserable,
broken-down old men, whose daughter
had deceived and defiers him ; in spite
of winch statements, he was inducerl tit
last to admit that if his senior part-
ner would take Miles back again and
make things generally easy rio' him, he
did not see how he was to bold out any
longer.
Then Geoffrey tackled his uncle. He
found the old man in a strangely mys-
terious mood. E1r would reveal noth-
ing; he would promise nothing. He re-
fused to give any reasons for his sen-
tence upon Miles, at the same time he
treated the matter airily, and declined
to see anything serious in it.
" But it is a serious matter to Miles,"
urged Geoffrey, " he is engaged to my
sister-in-law, and if he is to he left
in the luroh--,"
"Whoever said he was going to be
left in the Mesh?" interrupted the "ld
man, testily. " You come and dine to-
night, Geoffrey, and we will have a
bots le of the '47 port."
"I can't come and dine, sir, with an
easy mind, unless you will mike me
some sort of a promise."
"I ain't going to make any sort of
promise 1 Tut, tut, how these buy., do
irritate me 1" He spoke, angrily, but
Geoffrey could see very plainly that
he was not angry at all—he was city
pretending to be. He could make noth-
Ing of h]m.
Eventually, he did, as he was asked,
go and dine at Cromwell Road, and the
three partners, the two old men and
the young one, discuased it couple of
betties of the famous '17 vintage be-
tween thein; and whether it was ow-
ing to the warming effects of that
generous fluid, or to the extreme meek-
ness and depression of Joseph Halli-
day—a state of mind in him which al-
ways filled the soul of his chief with
a fiendish delight—or whether Mrs.
Dane contributed to it by an exhibi-
tion of extra tearfulness and nervous -
nem, due, no doubt, to a secret know-
ledge of the subject under discussion,
or whether, perhaps, more than all else,
it was not toeing to the presence at
bis table of the only creature on earth
who had ever got at that small shriv-
elled thing which physiologists would
have called Matthew Dane's heart, and
the sight of the earnest brown eyes
which had been able, occasionally, to.
defy and withstand him, and the rare
flashing smile whioh always had an
indescribable influence upon him—whe-
ther all this• it wee, which produced the
much -to -be -desired effect, I am unable
rightly to determine: but certain it
is, that Matthew Dane insensibly thaw-
ed and softened. anti that when ten-
ter wee over and the servants had left
the room, and his wife at the sign of
an imperious nod from her spouse bad
also hastily retired, the old man sud-
denly delivered himself of the follow-
ing remarks:
"Well, Halliday, 1 understand that
pig-headed little girl of yours insists
upon leaving her own way, I rather
like people who go there own way un -
lase they cross mine, you know, like '
this young scoundrel here, who has
married Anel. I like Angel the best,
you know, I always did, and always
shall; she's better looking for one
thing, and she and Geoffrey will tel -
ways oxime first with me. As to this
other girl of yours, she's a bit of a
vixen, I fancy, but I think you had
better let her marry Miles Faulkner
if she's set upon it."
"I don't see what they are to marry
on," here interpolated Joseph finiiid.ny,
with a miserable and rueful expres-
sion of countenance, that was not per-
haps guiltless of a pertain cunning as-
sumption.
No, I daresay you don't," replied
old Dene rather orosely, " but !:hen, you
see, I do 1"
You will take him bank, Mr'?" meld
Geoffrey, eagerly.
Poch 1 pooh!! How can I take him
back, you young donkey when I've
just sent hint away, and when Trichet
la hardly out of the country 3 I am
not such a fool I"
" Then it was that despicable hound!"
dried. Geoffrey, excitedly.
Hila uncle laid leis fniger against his
mise and there was a sort of twinkle in
bin eye. No man on earth, for certain,
bated Albert Trichet with a more
deadly hatred than he did, but know-
ing that which he had plotted, anti ar-
ranged, he wale the list parson in the
world who would have given expression
to that hatred.
" Albert Trichet is, my dear nephew,
a faithful and veined servant. I have
a high opinion of Albert Triobot's tal-
ents—bare is to ills prosperous voyage
lo America," and he raised his glass to
bis lips, then suddenly, as he set It
down again upon the table, his manner
chrom�ed.
"Ne, I a,annot take bides Faulkner
beak, and the hundred and twenty
pound]: a year he has lest with his
Pines would neither make nor mend
bine But I am thinking, elalliday,
titht we want :e manger badly at
Lyons, the bueittess there has been very
Meek lately, that fellow Dupree la 0
good, whatdear; hp blunders over ev
male—dug--A foremen Las not weight
enough either, we want a manager.
There's that Mee little bowie outside
the town. you know, lying ,amply, 11
wouldn't eget ninth to furnish it up
again. If emu eke to cin tr up for leu,
young people I'll mike Miles nt•tnager
out t tier e, anti will see that ha has a
sufficient interne to keep his wifelike
a lady upon."
And so this was the great and gond
, ni•we ihet Geoffrey bad hr°ught hack
in hit pocket to Ituleie and Milne ou
the itt t use's. i's. night, Il will be imag-
in,'d how joyfully be was weteome,
ane with what rapturous thanks he
was overwhelmed. No wonder that the
four riders started forth with happy
faces fr.'m the donor on Monday morn-
ing; three of them at least .ahem with
genuine inward eortlentm0111• and thi•
.fourth was cent rained to nit rror back
the satisfaction which be had been in-
strumental in bringing to the others,
Weldon Gorse was the picked meet
!of H]Ilshire Hunt. The hounds assem-
bled in a lively bit ,.f rough park scen-
ery, a sort of wilderness inside its
wooden pilings. air Alfred \t'ildun. a
good old sportsman, who, at eighty
years of age, still petered out upon
nn historical iron -grey hunter, and fol-
lowed the hounds for an hour or 40,
When they came near enough to his
house to enable him to joiu them with-
out any very great exertion.
Out of compliment ro this fine old
English gentleman, who paid his fif-
ty pounds subscription, and was :IS keen
it presereer of foxes as :t hunting
neighbourhood could desire, the meet
et Weldon was an almost monthly no-
eurrenee; and Lady °icon invariably
gave a hunt breakfast on these Deca-
sione, presiding herself, in her snow-
white hair, draped with a black lace
;Mantilla, at the top of the table, in
the bong -banqueting hall, whets an am-
ple repast, open to ail comers, was al-
ways laid out,
When the party from Hidden House
arrived upon the scene, this feast was
al an end, and the red -coats were
mustering thickly in the tangled hol-
low that lay between the smunt h greets
glades of tate park on the one side, and
the (\peen heath country, beyond be
b,.tuud rise of the property, on t he oth-
er. -
It would be impossible to conceive a
more deeming picture as the horse-
men cams riding down from the house
in twos and threes under the fine old
elm trees of the park, the clear, blue -
grey of the atmosphere making a soft-
'ene.l background to the sleek, shining
Notts of the horses, and the brilliant.
flashes of scarlet flecking the glade
with moving pints of flume until tbey
United in a mass beneath the shelter
of the little wood, beneath which the
hounds—a low, level pack—were closely
kelt in hand by the huntsman, and
made together a dash of speckled while
against the red earth of the bank be-
hind then!. Very soon, in that never -
failing covert, which. within the mem-
ory of man, had seldom been known
to be drawn bleak, a fine fox had been
found, and the whole field, an unusu-
ally large one for flillshire, made as
speedily as possible for tee widely
opened park gates close at hand.
Of that run, of bow straightly ran
the fox, of how gallantly pursued the
hounds of what fences were negotiat-
ed, of who fell, and who war' in at the
death, I do not propose to write in
detail. Are not those things inscribed
in the annals of Efillehire Hunt'l All
that I intend to do now is to describe
the career of one particular horse, of
one particular rider. The horse is The
Moor—the rider, Angel Dane,
The Moor started off at a good pace,
but with that ominous shake of the
head which Geoffrey had already no-
ticed in him, and pulling end snatch-
ing at his bio in an uncomfurtable
fashion. Angel dropped her hands to
him, and did what she saute to soothe
and humour him, and for the first
half dozen fields all went fairly
well, anti she followed closely in the
wake of her husband. But just as
they came to withiu a few lengths of
an inconsiderable fence The Moor
swerved a little, and made as though
be would follow another horse, end An-
gel, with the object of keeping him
shitraightm., lifted her whip and struck
This was the signal for his rebellion.
He took the Mune sanely indeed, but
with a sort of fury, and at a place
of his own eeleotion, not hers; and
upon alighting at the further side of
it, got down his head, shot off wild-
ly at a terrine pace, past Geoffrey,
who was hanging back a little to see
what had became of ben. In short,
he fairly bolted. end Angel entirely'
hest all control over him.
She did not despair for some time of
regaining her hold upon him, for he
took the next two fences well end eas-
ily, bat that servmd ono having landed
him into a lane, The Moor, with appar-
ently no further ambition to distin-
guish himself in the field, turned short
off to the right, mad, leaving the hunt
far behind, galloped madly down it in
a mingled condition of rage and ex-
citement, which proved far beyond her
weakening strength to restrain.
Of that headlong flight, Angel in
after -clays, remembered but little;
fields, trees, houses, flow by her in
lightning -like confusion; her brain
reeled and whirled with the rush of
(be air, and with the hopele.'se bewild-
erment of her position. Faintly now
and, Ih el she heard the thud, thud, of
another horse behind ber, that 1(11,1 her
that Geoffrey was probably following
her. This was, however, but dimly
borne in upon her mind. Only two
things, indeed, remained with e vivid
eoescioueness before her—one was her
own fast -failing strength, and the
other a vague horror r of a terrible, im-
pending doom which must inevitably
lie before her—the almost certainty oe
a violent death. Soon this idea was
the only one left in bar mind—she saw
nothing, Ilitend nothing, thought of
nothing case. It seemed to her Iha.t
her whole lite colon° up again before
her—all her childish sins, all her wo-
man's weaknesses, small thing., pas,.od
by and unrepented of, words spoken
Meg ago and forgotten—all stood out
with a fearful and supernatural cis
tinet:tziss out of the rush of ever -deep-
ening darkness that seereol to be clos-
ing in about her on every side.
She never seen sew a tall figute that
rose up suddenly before her in the way
never heard the ebutit of r'eli'ning in
hive path, or felt the sudden swerve
that carried The Moor right from nue
sidle of the road to the °titer. Then
Allele ones mini' a sheen and a ("rash(
ma Angel wee shut over The Moor's
head right on to the grass by the road-
side, and knew, ebaken and bruised
and battered as she was, that she was
alive, and that she was saved!
r r a
Be*. de Drefour had been leaning
upon a stile leading from the field in-
to the road; she was not far from list
own ILtU" house, and had eauntere't
out for an aftcrnoou walk. She carri-
ed a tool: in her hands, which she had
btetu re:tdiug, although she was not
ri*ailing it now, and, curiously enough
the• book was a novel.
It was not usual for iter to read
novels. She shrank perhaps a little
from records of human, lore and human
happiness, since love and happiness
were forever forbidden to her. Some-
times, indeed, it gave her a dull., ach-
ing pain to dwell on them subjects,
eo thee wisely she seldom opened
books of fiction. The book she had
been reading to -day, however, was one
\vhieh holds its undying sway alike
aver every m.,n and woman to whom
English literature is dear. A book so
grand, so powerful, and so enthralling
that it may well deserve to be reckon-
ed amongst the first, if indeed, not the
very first itself, of all the navels of
English literature. This book was
"mono, Eyre." Rose had just finished
it, and as she leant across the stile,
with her finger's loosely slipped
amongst its pages, she was thinking
deeply upon the strong, passionate
story of man's rebellious love, of w•o•
men's purity and devotion. .That love,
so cursed and so restrnined, so held
back by every consideration, human
and divine, btu!, notwithstanding a11,
had in the end itsearthlyreward and
completion, The picture of blind
Rochester, soothed in his eternal dark-
ness by the love oe the woman who
comets' to lay bar life upon his suffer -
tug heart, is beautiful and touching
in the extreme; but hose de Brefour,
whilst she acknowledged the poetry of
it, told herself that it was nut true
to life.
Tboee who have loved in vain are 001
thus appropriately united—no miracle
is work ,d for them—mo providence in-
tervenes to tiring them together,
Heart -broken they part—and heart-
broken forever they remain apart—
only that love grows colder and dim-
mer, and passion becomes silent, when
Time with his healing touch bas dead-
ened all under an ever -thickening pall
of insensibility.
And its she stood thinking of it—of
the, mystery and riddle of life, of how
all toil and struggle for happiness, and
tt
huw few gain the. prize—there name
upon/ her a great weariness of sou!—a
great desire for that "tong rest"
wherein the probleme of life shall per-
plex us no more, and all its sadness
be hushed forever in the great sleep
whioh nothing earthly can break or
disturb,
Then far, fir away, upon her ears
there broke a distant sound that—as
sh- took head of it and listened, at first
half-uncunsoiously, then with a rapid-
ly -increasing interest—seemed to grow
nearer and nearer to her at every sec-
ond. It was a sound that once heard
is never forgotten—a dull, regular re-
iterating sound, muffled yet ringing
—lbs sound of a runaway horse.
Keenly alive all at once to what this
might mean, and what catastrophe it
might chance to foreshadow, inose
sprang eagerly over the stile, and
strained her eyes with a strange new
sense of excitement towards the quar-
ter whence these ominous sounds were
now approaching her with lighinieg-
like rapidity.
All at once she saw it, far away in
the distance. The wildly galloping
horse and the pale -faced rider, coming
onwards, ever at that awful pace—
soon she was able to distinguish the
set features, the wide -opened grey
eyes, the white parted lips, the pant-
ing bosom and labouring breath, the
dishevelled hair flying back upon the
rushing wind. One quick shock of re-
cognition struck through her very
soul—
It was Geoffrey's wife 1
There name no fixed or distinct idea
into her mind—no swiftly -formed in-
tention, no debating wvith herself as
to what she was going to do or how
she was going to do it. Those glorious
martyrs, tube, from the world's found-
ation, to its close, have given, and will
give, their lives to save those of oth-
ers, are not prone, I reckon, to reason
about what they do. One grand and
splendid instinct is theirs—one God-
like impulse—one unhesitating rush
towards the Death thaesureiy crowns
them with an everlasting mown.
So Rose de Brefour sprang forward
to her certain destruatiou with all the
great enthusiasm of superhuman self-
saerifice burning in her soul.
ee rush across the road, a fraitio
snatch at the bridle of the maddened
animal—a wild jerk with all the
strength of her woman's arms—and
the deed is bco0mplished. Angel is
saved, and The Moor, pitching heavily
forward and dragging her down with
him in the burrieane vehemence of his
fall, plants both his knees with the
whole force of his weight upon her
chest and rolls over the prostrate form
stretched before him upon the ground,
till the delicate body is crushed, and
the woman's life is stamped mut, and
the noble heart is seemed. and stilled
for evermore.
She bad died so that be might live'
to forget ber That had been her
prayer, and the Great God had heard
and granted it, Geoffrey Dane lived,
and although he never forgot, yet in
process of time he learned to be
happy.
During the long Weeks of nervous
prustrauon, whioh for Angel Dane fol-
lowed upon that terrible day, Geoffrey
watched over his suffering wife with
Vthe tenderness of a mother. 13alf-
dtstraated by his own unutterable
grief, he yet learned to silence bis own
sorrow in order to soothe and comfort
her; and when elm was strong enough
to beer his ewnfession to laid bare all
his heart to her, knowing that in
Death, Angel would forgive On Woman
t•
he' r. end loved and who hod died to save
And so tim't want on, and the gaping
mune,that was mush en agony at
first, i!osed. up, and became in a 'fash-
ion healed.
And one day a. little eta -thew Dane
rami? into !hie world of trouble and
brought a veal deal of happiness and
pleasure along with him, not only to
hie parents, but to a certain grim, old
gwh
o a
le ttow well stt'ieken in years,
taken to read his Bible and
ixintlug hint of bis taus, since Lite
death of hie wlfe and hie own f.tst-Inil-
iiig health.
In troth, sinal the day that he broile
the sad news to his partners and
Marks that poor Albert 'Triohot had
died of swamp Saver 111 South lmeriea,
the old tyrant had never been quite
h`arself again. ('tuiseienre somrtin cit
wakes up in an unaocuuutable fashion;
,and now and then, although human
justice faits to detea a Crime, the sin-
ners himself is ht'uugltt to a due sonee
or it by gentle; end more merciful
methods.
Geoffrey anti Angel live with this
old man now is the great bouse in
t'romwell !load, and Hidden Iloulse
has. been sold again, and strangers sit
itt the long, low library where Geefi'rey
Dane once long ago told his love in
the gloaming Lour at the beautiful
wumaa who loved him, but wile could
neven become his own.
So the book was turned over, and life
went on the eame, only that—as she
had said—anemia that folded page the
hand of One who is more mighty and
knows better than we, His puppets,
had written in indelible letters the one
sad word "Never,"
The End.
MICROBES IN THE BEARD ?
Here's a IDeeloe ii'nn Ilex Pe,uui a Now
Maul' rel' Then,.
In the earliest and perhaps the hest
of :ill "books of Nonsense" t'he reader
eons entertained with the embarrass-
ment of a certain "OLct new with a
beard, who said it is just as I feared"
—the appreltenslou thus realized being
that the fowls of the air would build,
their nests in the tempting thicket of
heir which depended from that old
man's chin. The beard of real. life
does net, of enure°, afford such ample
harborage for the feathered rape a5
this. Its invasion and appropriation
by "two cocks and a 'hen," "three Larks
and a wren," is not really to be fear-
ed; yet it may, it appears; have ten-
ants of an infinitely smaller size, but
of inversely proportioned powers of
mischief -
Dr. Schaull of Tunis has discovered
that Lt is simply a happy hunting
ground of bacilli. lee has proved it
tep•oa the guinea-pig, whom he has tn-
nroculated with "tbe material obtain-
ed from beards and moustaches," with
results distressing to the guinea-pig
and alarming to all those who bad
been in more or Less close contact with
tba beards and mustaches aforesaid,
ibis is a vary disagreeable discovery,
and may seriously affetit the popular-
ity of a form of fade' adornment
which stns bithsrlo been regarded as
open to no other objection than that
it is a nuisance CD its wearer when
in the act at taking soup.
But whet are a few stray shreds of
vermicelli compared with a whole
army of able-bodied bacilli lying in
ambush for their victims, and, what is
more, ready to make viotms of any-
body who happens to come within their
range? No wonder Dr. Schoult. insists
on the thorough disinfection of ,all
beards and moustaches whiab their
wearers refuse to remove. The next
step to be taken by L'hs RoyaL Society
for the Prevention of Tuberculosis is
to require all persons who have been
certified as suffering from consump-
tion to be Mean shaven, a well -skilled
barber being f'or that purpose added
to the staff of each one of the new
sanatoria for tuberculosis. Who is to
proteot the well -skilled barber is a
question on which we are not inform-
ed, or even as to who is to disinfect
elm before operating on a patient who
has not suffered from consumption.
Until, however, some provision is made
for this, his "Next, please," will have
very ominous sound. Mentally com-
pleted, the phrase would run, "Next
candidate for tuberculosis."
On the whole, we cannot but hope
that the Learned Dr. Schoull is mis-
taken. Perhaps the guinea -pigs who
were innotaulated with the doctor's
"material obtained from beards and
mustaches" were ailing to start with
the germ frown some external source,
Or, poesihly, the beard itself was real -
Ly like the aid man's in the nonsense
rhyme, and a mare had made her nest
!there, to be afterward found by Dr.
Schou Ll.
ITS GRAPHITE NOW.
Lege resells In ;ISodcen 'ranee Contain Ne
head ii'lutlevee.
(Moe upon a time sticks of lead were
used for making marks on paper and
wood, and the name has survived,
though nowadays all the pencils are
filled with graphite, or plumbago,
which is simply a form of pure char-
coal. This mineral is found in only
a few pl.aees in the world—in Cum-
berland, England; along .the Lauren -
teen ranges in the Provinoe of Quebec,
TtoonLeroga, in Vermont.
The graphite is taken, in the lump
from the mines and carried to the
reduoiug mill, where it 'is grauad or
pulverized in stump mills under wa-
ter. The flue particles or graphite
float away with the water through a
number of tanks, coLloeting at the bot-
tom of these reservoirs. It is packed
in barrels In the form of dust and
seat ao the factury, where tens of
thousands of Lead peloils aro turned
out every day, The pulverized gra-
phite is so fine that it really is a
dust, dingy in color and smooth and
oily to the touch. It is divided in -
10 various grades of fineness ey divid-
ing It on water from one tank to an-
other,
In another series of tanks the Ger-
man iripeelay, which ie mixed with
graphite to secure the different grade::
of pewits from very soft to extra bard,
is graded in the same way by
floating, The finest clay 1:
mixed with the !Meet graphite,
tieing ground together between stones,
and the hardness of the panni!, is ee-
rured by increasing the proportion of
elny in the mixture.
ome A
rvam
HINTS FOR 1101' DAYS.
In the first piece, have a good gaso-
line stove on which to nook, bake,
wash and iron writes Airs. Freak Met-
calf, li;ooaomlzo anywhere else neces-
eery, but insist ou this one thing. '.rbc
eoat doesn't begin to equal the oom-
fort to be derived from it, and ale
though' we have a tine piece of wood.
land, my husband thinks it's cheaper
to 'burn gasoline than to cut wood.
to your kitchen is large and airy you
can eel your table there with the gas-
oline, thus saving many steps; but
mine is small, so we use the eating -
room always to eat in, as it it tba
pleusauteat room In the house, and
the men's only :eating time in but
weather is meal time, and it is right
they should have these said meals
where they eau enjoy them.
And right here is a hint for the wo-
man who does not like Lo have the
men eat in their shirt -sleeves, and she
is right, as those sweaty shirt -sleeves
play the miscbier with a clean table-
cloth. Haven't we all noticed the in-
voluntary shiver of a perspiring man
when a tittle refreshing draft strikes
hater Aud how many colds and how
much rheumatism is contracted by the
habit of farmers sitting down to eat
and rest whale wet with perspiration
will never be told. But a heavy coat
is out of the question, so Maier invest
in e. light alpaca or pongee coat and.
keep it hanging near the eluk where
your Ibetloveu wastes, -or out oft au
old linen duster and keep it Olean and
handy, and you will find be Will enjoy
putting it ou after a tune or two. And
the men will follow his example pro-
bably by gutting a cotton blouse for
meal-tdne use.
About hot or cold food each family
must be a law unto itself, but 1 be-
lieve but dishes are more easily digest-
ed, ,as well as more palatable, and the
harvest work is so exhausting that
hearty Load must be furnished in
quantity as Weil as quality, with good
strong coffee for breakfast and din-
ner and tea Car supper, Fur the colfoo
be sure to use a good big tabiespuon
for each person, and one ur two extra
for the pot is my rule, and my men all
say that my coffee does them as much
good as the rest of the meal. 1 always
give them good cream for it. The ouf-
fete served at so many farmhouses is
to much like slop that I mention this
item pttrtioulariy. Now as to pie. I
made none while strawberries last-
ed, using shortcake, berries and cream
instead, but the delight of the men
and children at the first mulberry pie
made ms realize that there is a void
in the manly stomach that nothing
but' pie can ever 2111, and when made
with tender, crisp crust and served
frelshl I can't see why it is more un-
wholetome than rich puddings. Any-
how, a harvest hated can usually get
away with a goodesized section and
look longingly al the empty plate, so
I try to Awake them often tend can
mince meat especially for hearty, har-
vest pies.
NEW DUTIES Ol PARENTS.
The responsibilities of parents seem
LO be increasing. Formerly when a
child was born with a pug nose and
grew up with the same style of nasal
appendage the father and mother were
sorry II the nose didn't please, but
their conscience waa easy. Likewise
if their young hopeful's ears were of
the aspect welch is delicately oalled
alert, they were grieved but not re-
morseLul.
Ib is no such easy going for parents
to -day. Moulding character is some-
what out of date. in these days of new-
fangled child culture, but moulding
noses has supplied a new outlet for
Parental energy. "A tiny, little
nese," says one authority, ;'may be
changed and much improved in shape.
It own be enlarged by gentlo and per-
sistent massage. It can also be
lengthened by a series of gentle pulls,
steadily and continuously applied,"
This authority, however, exhalis that
he should hesitate at the nose -pulling
is the ease of boys, es they generally
get plenty of it sooner or later. "A
nose too generous in size," he con-
tinues, "may be compressed by means
of an ingenious little instrument a
good deal like a clotheapin. If pro-
perly applied it cannot injure tee nose
us it acts simply by diminishing the
flow of blood to the nose."
Of oourse, the ear question is settled
now. If a person grows up in this tray
and generation with outstanding aura
he will bo at liberty to rise up ardent'
his parents shiftless, to say the least.
Another point to which painstaking
parents are invited to give their at-
tention is the care of the eyebrows,
A jttdioious and persistent application
of vastline to the arch where these de-
sirable items should grow is said to
work wonders. As children do not
wear long and heavy bangs, another
piece of envies is, perhaps, not fleece -
eery just at present, but it may be
stowed way for f
a y elute reference. 1L
is given on the authority of an old
family doctor, and, though it sounds
a good deal kite an old wives' tale, he
vouched for it:. late was present one
da� when a little girl came in. Her
golden hair was hanging, in the way
whioh has been oelebreted in mug and
story, down her bank. Also a heavy
bang was hanging over her forehead,
reaching almost to her oyes. Now,
lee doctor deolared that if the bang
was allowed to ' hang over her eye -
brews it would be at the cost of the
latter, 'because, ' as he said, "hair
eats hair." Maybe this is the solution
of the problem of baldness.
However that may be, the foot re-
mains that few persons seam to have
any idea that the eyebrows and eye-
lashes should receive eepaeial care, The
use of vaseline is good for the eye-
lashes, as well as for the eyebrows,
:end when it is judieioualy applied 1
will have a very pet'oeptible effect on
them, making them less likely to fall
out or be rubbed out, It !a the realt-
ies way itt which people rub their
eyes whdoh is to a great extent re.spun-
sible fur the weeny of lashes. it is
almost always ,the lower lid which
bears the brunt of this rubbing, and
the result is *parent In the mutat
entailer quota of lashes wbialt the low-
er lid always has, This is another di -
receipt) in whine parents are expected
to look out for the physical well be-
ing of their children. ' There was tt
time when even cross-eyed people did
net drectra or reproaching their par-
ents for negligence. Those were
palmy dap for parents, In future,
when young people 011ie° or age they
wilt be counting their eyelashes and
ttticing a whole Itel't.11ion system 0f
measurements of their eau's and noses
to find out whether !heir parents have
done the square thing by them.
This is the cloy of the anti -spank
mmeme,ut. Advanced mothers talk
learnedly pf allowing a child to de-
velop spontaneously, or not °hooking
and oenta•olliug him, but of letting bis
individuality some up as it flower,
without Interference, Some mother:,'
are trying to live up to these beauti-
ful theories, even though their child-
ren seem to come up more like a vol-
cano Shan like a flower. To this varie-
ty of mothers the nose culture Is es-
pecially recommended, If their small
imp of a boy, developing bis own ego
a la the lily, theoretically, grows too
obstreperous, they cin take him by the
nosy anti pull him, "stoudily anti con-
tinuously" around the room. If he
protests, or if any apostle of the new
child culture surprises ber in the eat,
she oan scout the idea of having pun-
ished Ler boy. She bas been situp:y
doing her duty in the line of nese cul-
ture. So with the clothespin method.
In fact, this physical training may
readily be made to supersede old-fash-
ioned forms of punishment even with
mothers who stand by the old theories.
Instead of sending a child supperless
to bed, he could be condemned to wear
a clothespin on bis nose for an hour.
Instead. of giving him a foolish spank-
ing he could be required to undergo
fifteen minutes of nose -pulling, and so
on. This method would have the ad-
vantage of combining practical and
beneficent results with moral discipline
and mould be indefinitely extended in
include such faults of physique as
flopping ears, pigeon toes, round shout -
dere, stubby mots and so on.
TAMING THE LION.
31e. John Cooper Elves Itis Ettitcrlent•e..
ii'1111 Inc (ling or R'a'ta.
John Cooper, who from being the
youngest lints -lamer in the world—ho
was a full-blown trainer at the age of
twelve—has batmen% one of the great-
est, is no believer in harsh measures.
" Firmness and kindness will make
any animal fond of you," he said re-
cently. " I hues had lions so pond of
Me that if I petted nos, others would
be jealous. In a group of seven or
eight lions, an ill-timed caress of one
would wound the feelings of the oth-
ers, and if persisted in, would lead to
a row."
In some of his perlormanoes, Mr.
Cooper had a lion on either side of
him with feet on his shoulders. Point-
ing to a picture of himself is suoh a
position, he said:
"You see this lion on my left shoul-
der'? That is Betsy. She was blind.
Whenever she got out of position in
the group, she had a perfect horror
of touching me. Sha was afraid that
she might hurt me. Il she was in her
right place, she knew exactly where I
was, and what she could do without
striking me with her claws or knock-
ing me down. I have often been
touched e.t her care, whioh was quite as
great as any of us are eel -rabic' of ex-
ercising. Poor blind Betsy I"
Speaking of the memory of animals,
Mt, Cooper said, " I doubt whether they
forget anything. Some years ago there
was a sale of elephants at North Wool-
wich Gardens. In the catalogue was
a group of elephants that 7 used to
' perform,' but had'not seen for twelve
years. As they were led into leering,
I said, to one of them, ' Iloilo, Far an
expression that used to be part of the
performance.
' The elephant was eleetrilied, and
began to trumpet in an extraordin-
ary nettuner. The others joined in and
got round ate, encircling ma with their
trunks, as if lu embrace me. It was
with diffioulty I got away from them,
and wben f did, I fairly broke down
and cried, The people at the sato ask-
ed me to repeat the perbormonce, but
I eoutdu't-1 wus too much upset,"
Although his animals had suoh good
monitories, there was one time when
Mr. Cooper's own memory failed. Ile
had been very ill, and it was his first
appearance afterward among his lions,
'SVten he got into the edge he found
his mind a blank, Ile did not even
know one Lion from another. Quite
helpless, be looked at the lions, and
they at hien. They worn waiting, for
Lha words and gestures that were asso-
ciated with the different perform-
ances.
Ha aontiuued 10 gay,° at chem, but
could make cathing of it, and was
turning wily to give up when one of
them sprang upon him on one side,
thea another on the oilier side, and
the rest ranged themselves about him.
They were going through alts final
scene itt the performance, Perhaps in
turning away he had unaonsclously
made some gesture that they retrieve,
bared. Ainyway, the liana had aevalren
ed his -memory, tar although he did
00 more performing that day, the whole
thing Mame bank to hint.
AN ARRANGleactNI'IT,
Say, ,young feller, I wanton bare yes
t' catch rnr, some fish.
What'll yer gimme 0
W'yr-w'y, half der fish you catch,
TONSILITIS CONTAGIOUS,
In oho Anneal, Hamburg, hospital
all eases of wesiens or sore throat are
now isolated, since it was discovered
that 11 patience in five wards, all on
t.11, sum corridor, caught a ease of sora
throat Irma ono patient,
HEALTH,
AIDS TO BLAiVTY,
From an aid book davated to the -
preservation of beauty, written by the
learned Dr. A, Cazenave, We take a
few valuable hints. The book wee at ..
one time very ,widely dieousaed at the
French capital, and considered an In-
fallible authority, It is still widely .
ltnowu iu leurope ae well as %'ranee,
An exquisite cosyietio for the ooaa.
liloxion, especially for flue, delicate
shin blit are alightly fnriaape-
ous and eau not bear hay kind of
greasy substance, is the following: '
Blcblorlde hydrargyria, 2 gralnslee
l'blorhydrate ammonia, 2 grains; Milk.:
of almonds, '1-? pint, • The Liquid is em-
ployed. in u pure state, with a fine lin-
en rag. If necessary it may be mix-
ed with an equal portion of water;
that is should it prove Irritating for an
excessively delicate skin. In any °ass
it should be used with great care.
C'holorate of potash, 18 grains; Gly-
cerine, 1 ounce; Rose water, 1-2 pint,
tilix carefully for lotions.
For those whose skin is greasy and
Inclined to pimples: 13icarbanate 01
soda, 18 grains; distilled water, 1-2
pint ; essence of Portugal, 6 drops.
Tha face may also be washed with
alder water, weak tea, distilled linden
water, milk of almonds or virginal
milk, which is made as follows: Rose
water, 1 pint; tinctura oe benzoin, 1
dtea rachm,tinctureieix the water slowly with
-
In general, lotions for the face sbould
be made of it mild. temperature. A
lotion too cold is as projudir,lal to the
complexion as one too warm. It is
better to mix them in the evening,
scnroaly drying the taco when applied.
to tea nrorniug wipe gently with a
linen rag, dipped in pure water and
cologne.
When the skin is airy, rough and one -
wishes to efface areas, pomades are re-
rommendod, either of cold cream or
cuclentumber, The following are excel-
:
Pomades for the Complexion.—Oil of
bitter almonds, 1 scruple; spermaceti,
1 drachm, 2 scruples; Gallen carate, 1
ounce.
Oil of bitter almonds, I drachm;
fresh butler, 4 drachms; lard, 4
drachms; mutton suet, 2 drachms.
fiWash in rose ater and add wax sut-
eient quantity.w
Pomade for Pimples.—Bicarbonate
of soda, 2 scruples; glycerine, 1
drachm; spermaceti pomade, 1 ounce.
Mix wall.
Pomade for Greasy Complexion.—
Acetate of zinc, 2 grains; cold cream,
1 ounce; essence of roses, 10 drops.
Pomades like lotions should he em-
ployed at night, and always moder-
ately. Lotions ,may be employed In
the morning, especially if a premeds
has been used the night previous. -
A.nother means of preserving fresh-
ness of complexion is the use of pastes,
applied to the face in the farm of a
wash during the night, and taken off
in the morning with a little nervi' wa-
ter.
Mask for the Fare.—Barley flour
sifted, 8 ounces; Honey, 1 manoe, 1
scruple; while of egg, 1 soruplo. Mix
as a paste.
Another.—White wax, 1 ounce; sweet
almond oil, 2 ounces; goat's grease, 1
ounce; powdered starch, 2 scruples.
Cream for Wrinkles.—White wax, 1
drachm; cola ceum, 1 drachm; Melt
in a water hath and add ; Rose water,
2 drachms; tincture of balm of tofu,
1 scruple, 16 grains. Mix and anoint
the face.
Another,—Alcohol, 4 drachms; white
of eggs, 4 dreabms.
For a roughness of the hands the
author gives a variety of remedies.
He suggests bran water and almond
paste, both oe which are excellent. Fur-
ther he suggests anoiuiing them with
cold cream and wearing gloves at
night.
Almond Paste.—Bitter almonds,
peeled, 1-2 pint; honey, 1 pint; yolk of
eggs, 2 draohms; sweet almond oil, 1
pint ; mance of bergamot, 2 drachma;
essence of cloves, 2 draohms. Beat
the honey and the yolk of the eggs
together; add the oil little by little,
and then the almonds and essences.
Powder to Whiten the Elands,—Eiorso
chestnuts, pounded, IO ounces; bitter
almonds, 9 ounces; iris powder, 1
ounce; carbonate of potash, 2drachms;
essence of bergamot, 1 drachm. Mix,
put a little in two or three glasses of
water and wash the heads.
Cosmetic Gloves Inc the Minds,—
yolks of fresh eggs, 3 scruples; sweet
almond oil, 2 tablespoonfuls; rose wa-
ter, 1 ounce; tincture of benzoin, 86
grains. Beat the yolks up with the
oil, and add successively the arose water
and the ttncture. Put this inside the
gloves and sleep in them,
TO PREVENT CONSUMPTION.
The following rales are suggested by
the board of health in Brighton, Eng-
land: 1. Zixpealoralicn indoors should
be received into emelt paper bags Cud
afterward burned. 2. Expectoration
out-of-doors should be received into a
suitable bottle, to be afterward womb-
ed out with boiling water, or into a.
small paper handkerchief, which is
afterward to be burned, 3. If ordi-
nary handkerchiefs aro over used for
sxpeitoration, they should be put in-
to boiling tearer' befo.0�11' they have time
to become dry, or intwd same disinfect-
ant solution to be, ordered by the doe -
tor. 4, Wet rlermiug of rooms, par-
ticularly of be u'oums occupied by
sick persons, shonlrl be .substituted
"dusting," 5. Sunlight and fresh air
ere the greatest enemies of infection.
Every connmplive should sleep with
bis bedroom window wide.open top and
bolaen, and durdng the day should oc-
cupy a Weil -ventilated nein. 'Le -
breathed air is the main rendition teet-
ering notteempitnn, If iha patient is
warmly clad ha need not fear keeping
out in any weather. N,, Ll: The pa-
tient himself is the greatest gainer by
the above prerautlons, es his recovery
is retarded and frequently prevented
by reneWed itv'oatioef derived from hie
own a:meetoration, 0, Persons in good
health have no °°aeon to fear the ins
foiition of consumption, Over fatigue,
intemperat:0, hall air and dusty, nee
cm/talons •favor the spend of tine dts-
eas0,