In The Corufield.
——— ons
Anon corn-blades are springing
Out from the earth's dark mould;
Unto the air and sunshine
"Their leaves they now unfold.
The slender blades grow stronger
Under the dew and sun,
And the huge grows clearer, deeper,
Of the green stalks every one.
There's a rustle of leaves in the cornfield,
As the August breeze goes by,
"Mid the stalks are the children playing,
And they look to the bending sky;
They ask whence comes the voices
Of the winds in their mild, sweet mood,
And wounder if its from Heaven,
If it is the whisper of God,
The field becomes a forest
Of stalks and tassels and grain,
When skies are grown more sober
And falls September rain,
Then the reapers with thelr sickles
Garner the ripened ears,
Symbols of life's ripe harvest
For the granary of the years,
IC RSA
MALGRE LUL
There never was a more popular
young physician than Dr. Tredickar.
His manners were the perfection of the
sympathetic, ns tact and his judgment
were only equaled by his devotion and
skill, his personal magnetism was im-
mense, and the cures he wrought were
marvelous,
Fresh from the hospitals as he was,
and eager in the pursuit of his science,
many old families welcomed him
the aging physician who bad carried
families, just setting up for themselves,
chose him as likely to go along the road
with themselves to the The |
event certainly justified their
and report of the young doctor's abil
went through ide
even extended to
that not unfrequently he was called in
consultation there with
longer and wider repute than his own. |
end,
Clioice; |
the country
the next large city, so |
physicians of |
His diagnosis of a case was soswift and |
sure that people used to say that
Tredickar could tell what ailed you by |
looking at you; and many a good
man averred that she was more ben
fited by his touch upon the pulse tha
by another doctor’s prescription. V
very little medicine; the case was ex- |
treme when
the druggist.
him in Ins gig
he was wont to administer, apparently
potent, and made up under his own
formula. From a peculiar liquid in a |
phial he measured one drop; if by any |
accident a portion of another drop left |
be sent much custom to |
He
certain medicaments that |
carried about with |
the phial, the glass had to be rinsed and |
the single drop tried again; to this drop
a half-glass of sweetened water being
added, the patient was allowed a tea- |
spoonful of the result once in six hours, |
if waking. It wasgenerally understood
that this liquid was something of Dr. |
Tredickar’s own importation, difficult |
to obtain and enormous in cost ; and
the gratitude his patients felt for the
Kindness of his thus procuring and
Keeping on hand what they could hard-
ly have procured for themselves was |
something excelled only by the rapidity |
with which they picked up health and |
strength under its effect.
the remarkable things he was fond of
administering was a tiny pill that he
always had about him, and that he left
in small numbers to be taken at morn-
ing and night, under certain other ai-
rections, always ordering that if the
patient felt too much braced on the sec-
ond day, with ringing ears or crowded
sensations in the head, or a pain in the
left thumb, the namber was to be less.
ened, the pills, however, to be taken
three days, and then omitted for three
days, until a cure was affected. If these
and the liguid did not work in such
cases as he prescribed them, then Dr.
Tredickar seemed to take another view
of the case, to devote himself to it with
personal assiduity and flery earnestness,
and to endeavor to bring the patient up
a8 if on the strong wings of all his pow
er and learning.
The fact was that Dr. Tredickar be-
lieved in nature. He knew that in cer-
tain malignant phases of disease the
physician and strong drugs and heroic
measures are as necessary as aw to
breathe; but he believed that many
whimsical, bypochondriae, feeble mind.
ed, weary and worn-out patients were
to be helped by a purely hygienic
treatment, by proper diet, and other
aids to health, and should not have one
organ or another interfered with by the
strong poisons of drugs; and in every
such mstance he gave his priceless lig-
uid and little dark pills, and let nature
and the tonic effect of hope and faith
do the reviving work. And of course
he bad many such patients, as many
such people abound; and the cures were
#0 satisfactory that his fame spread in
wide and wider circles, people who had
been hurt and not helped by drugs
leaving other physicians for his adviea,
And he gave the advice, and his dark
little pills too; and with some individ.
uals relief. came quickly, and with
others where the system had been still
further upset by strong medicines, not
80 quickly. If he had at any time
doubts as to the empiricism of this
treatment he excused it to himself by
stating the weakness of human nature,
and by remembering that as cure was
what was wanted he was the one to de-
cide how to effect the cure,
But as Dr. Tredikar’s practice in-
Another of |
pt
ing slices of
simal bits that once he bad, and, fre.
quently called away, he would leave
the task to pretty Dorothy Merle to
finish, and she would divide and redi-
vide the tiny segments, and roll them
between two fruit-knives, and set them
in the sun to dry,and have all Lis boxes
filled with fresh supplies of the little
dark pills when he came home, Dolly
did that no more faithfully than she
did everything else, though; she was
housekeeper and maid-of all-work and
general overseer for the young doctor,
and knew very well how to take care of
him, and of herself, too.
She was a pretty thing, this young
Dorothy Merle; not very tall and rather
slender, with dark brown bair falling
off the low white brow in natural
waves, with brillant hazel-brown eyes
and small, fine features, among which
was a mouth whose rosy lips parted
over teeth like seed pearl. She seldom
smiled; she was a grave little body, in-
tent on her duty, a farmer's daughter,
brought up to be a lady too, with a
good common education and
simple manners, Often when. the doe-
tor returned from his visits he left his
study and went out into her little sit-
the fire was
and the hearth was clean, and sat down
there to have a glass of milk
to
school
ting room, where
of ginger bread, and
creased he had not the time for divid
household matter, ana then
from | disinterested common-
Somehow this bref
el
Sense, rest
and
1 2 o5el +
Ove wo
learning more every
listen, Often,
her br
ighted with terest, the doctor
“by Jove!
! Why
wien
r cheek flushed and WI eves
would
what a prettily
wasn't she
station of life?
old
If Forse rort ey
HOSEL DUITYILE
in some olher
and stormy
ing the pleasure of
ite Dorothy.
was saying: **Con-
sation
nobly planne
ife herself.’
woman
over at
he wondered why he
3
t beside
and sit
g of all t
man at speaking:
formed slowly,
If only uld
pretty
women co be pa
nese jong s
s friendly words,
never knew. One day he
Spinsier in
engaged her, she said; and
It was of no
Dorothy was
y * ¥
Orrent Of
of
her sweetness and
then in one
decision-
all
del ght
purpose,
him to
her charm and
i
s} i Teed
mg-faltering
use for
i
decision of I
no Tage
and
thing of Doiothy, and search as
across any trace of her.
other, discarded his dark
now, but he plunged back into his busi-
ness with a sort of madness, He tried
he never looked at a woman
er spoke to his spinster if he could he p
it; he studied as if his life depended on
it; practice he had been on the point of
surrendering to the new doctor he re
tained, and he rode far into the night
to exacting people on outlying farms.
and was up early in the daybreak for,
his laboratory experiments and books:
he forgot to eat, and he was unable to
sleep,
Of course such devotion to work had
its own reward in one way. Dr. Tre.
dickar was becoming a com fortably rich
man for a country practitioner, and was
reaping a ripe harvest of fame, that
was, however, as worthless to him as
the breath of the idlest breeze,
And so one year followed another
until twenty had slipped away, and the
babies to whem he bad given their first
bolus had babies of their own ; and
fevers and consumptions and amputa-
tions and autopsies filled up the meas
ure of his days; and there seemed to
Dr. Tredickar nothing worth living for;
and worn with work, irregular food,
unhealthy hurries sympathies, disgosts,
fatigues, one morning Dr. Tredickar
discovered that he was without appe-
tite, without strength, without a hope
or wish, looking on the world as a mass
of disease, and saw, with hardly sure
prise or regret, that there was no health
in him.
Dr. Tredicker had scarcely the ener-
Zy left to set about curing himself; he
really did not care. Ie took one little
dose and and ther, and would not have
taken them if his aged spinster had not
set them by his plate, As he looked
about his dull and desolate howe he
thought that this was the time when a
man needed a wife and cheer, and
cursed himself for not thinking of it
twenty years ago. Dr. Fellows enme
to see him, and told him he must do so
a REAR SERA
Rly
less and melancholy. Then Dr. Har.
vey came, and said he must do this and
that; and he did, and he felt so much
worse that he went himself to see Dr,
Field. And then all three bad a con-
sultation, and one shud it was the heart,
and one said it was the spleen, and one
said it was the kidneys, and he himself
wits sure it was the liver, And as they
could do nothing that had not already
been done, they sent him off to the
springs to see what the old earth could
do.
But the Virginia springs did Dr.
Tredickar no good-—hot or eold or sul-
the Canadian did
phur—and springs
Yermont and
were equally
him no good, and the
the Arkansas springs
worthless in has case; and at
was on his way to the Wisconsin springs,
hopeless, listless, wretched, alling gen-
and ailing particularly,
mere force of habit trying to get well
did or
simply
inct of
erally
and vet not caring whether he
not, with no object and no aim —
inst
self-preservation,
;
He was within couple of
Waukesha
a
miles of when he encoun
tered Allen on the cars—an old cls
not met for ye
and of course they each had a work
the frst
Waukesha?”
CONS ingly, LH
I tried it. i
Was in precisely your
and topic was heal
tried them all
mdition.
al me
$
it me tell
ured a good
she—1'd just as lie
fit !
“Nonsense, Allen.”
“No nonsense about
He cured me; she's
ie a comfortable
+ has some wonderful nostroms
1 tf . 3 :
21 A RIIOW, 8 iv
“Natural 1
. Taylor’
if she
o. If she ean,
re cure comes from, 8
t}
£3 bd i
nather dis
snd was thi
IArviston
1 wt ¥ ¥ .
VIO’ presence,
It was a comfortable matronls
¢, he found: but he wasted
ond glance or thougt . whi
ed his
tf unar |
W RREMOE 2
symtoms and welt
, just had so often been
nt with his own patients
paused, “I think I can
“If vy
implicitly obey my instructions for
¢ months, I
+ veal sew
undertake it
em as he im
for doing.
pale
And when he
wis the low reply. 2
w
can help you,
without your prom-
The
felt as if he was really willing to pr
15¢ anything, And he did.
“In the first place, then, "said his new
doctor thought a moment,
vlar point of your nourishment.
are not te go without eating because
Un
cool water, not iced. Have a good
breakfast, you know best what dis
tresses you least. No coffee or tea, but
shells, if you like. No stimulant, no
quinine, no quassia, no iron, no strych-
nia, during 2 day: no morphia, no
chloral, no bromides, during the might.
At 11 o'clock in the forenoon I wish
you lo have a raw egg beaten up with
milk on one day: on the next day alter
nate it with a full cup of strong beef
tea or veal tea; on the third day with
plain milk. At one you will dine plain.
ly but satisfactorily At three, take
another glass of milk, or beef tea, or
egy, whichever you did not take mn the
morning, & plain but hearty supper at
#ix, and between supper and bed.-time
another glass of milk, If you wake in
the night, have some milk standing by
you to drink; but you won't wake.
None of your food should be hot. You
will take no other medicine than some
which 1 will give you, Can you remem.
ber all this?"
“1 should think so.”
“Please repeat it,”’
He was humiliated, but be did 80.”
“Now. today I want you to walk
—
“Walk! It's all I can do to drag one
foot after the other now.”
“I want you to walk a quarter of a
mile and back,” she said, not heeding
his interruption, *‘and do that every
day for a week, The next week make
it a half mile; the next week a whole
mile, Keep that up for three weeks,
and then double your portion until you
can do ten miles & day with ease,”
* “I never can in the world.
“Do as I say, if you please, Before
your walk take 8 tepid
sponge bath, and on returning from
walk rub yourself down thoroughly
with a flannel mitten—1 will give you
one; then go to bed entirely undressed
for a couple of hours, and rub yourself
again on rising. (Goto bed every night
at 10, and lie in bed ten hours.
are not to open a book or look in 4 news.
paper for three months’
“Impossible ['*
“Perfectly possible. You have
Idea how well the world will
without your attention in such case.
You are to do everything which implies
the
no
get on
to rest it; when you are able to walk
gun with
Be as
This
Hmped
much out of
COOrs 48 you can, is
she ACTORS
one among many boxes. “Take one
first dav,” she
said, “two the next,
3
after a
| hen i
Weel
the three ink
aia,
, bluntly, “Because if there is any
mnel in them I won't
“Never
ree months,
no fee till you are cund, Good m
*" tT +} :
ng. And the door wa opened,
} y x Oiitatde ¢ tf Via
LE WARS O61 Lie mitside of 1 gy MEEVEE]
O DAY uy ee, alu
+ of yout
i B IRIYBK
slew {
“14 * be said, severely, *
Tavior."
answered bh
married. |
ought,
Mrs.
Q sie
been
.
i,
assumed
name,’
“You wil
“1D vou think 1
he cried,
g back to the East alone?
Crue; day in
And Dr
brown-bread
Tredickar's wife still makes
pills from every
> _—-—
evolutionary Reminiscences,
The
following letter from the grand.
a lieutenant in the Revolutionary
rmy, who was one of the escort pres
ent at the hanging of Andre, is an in-
teresting and trustworthy contribution
Calcaco, Nov. 6, 1885,
My Dean Sin.—The wanton de
struction by some miscreant in human
form with dynamite of the monument
erected by yourself in commemorstion
of the spot where Major Andre, of the
British army, was hanged October 2,
1780, deserves the execration of mane
Kind, and such vandalism should be
condemned by the entire world, as it
no doubt will be.
Major Andre was a gallant officer,
and there were none braver than Andre,
This is shown by the hazardous and
death task which he undertook for the
good of his country. The cause in
which he was enlisted was a bad one,
but one with which he had nothing to
do, My grandfather, Lieut. Levi Par-
ker, of the Continental army, and at
that time with the army of Washington
encamped in near proximity to Tappan
was one of the escort that saw him hung
and ever after that day regretted the
sad event which took Andre to his
doom, He always said that by the stern
rules of war it tould not have been
otherwise, but deplored the fact of
Andre's execution, while the one (Gen
Arnold) who planned and plotted the
expedition which took Andre to his
fate went free, though doomed forever
thereafter to disgrace which nothing
could take away. Trusting that there
may yet be found some manner in which
your praiseworthy object may be fully
accomplished ard the identical spot
where the brave young officer suffered
the death penalty be forever perpetua-
ted with granite shaft or otherwise,
I am most respectfully yours,
(Signed) CmanLesC, H
SEINE
The Maternal Instinet in Reptiles,
PRO hsin! 1
mis ———
‘The cold-blooded adder would scarce-
ly be selected as an emblem of mater.
nal love, and yet there can be no doubt
that it has frequently lost its life while
| Beeking to preserve the existence of its
young. Mr Garratt in a recent edition
of his interesting Marvels of Instinet,
gives a very circumstantial account of
an stance in which a very large adder
was seen on a bank by the roadside
basking in the sun. The narrator of
the story advanced to assall the crea-
ture with his stick. On observing him
{ he gave a slight hiss, at the same time
raising her head a little and opening
| her mouth. The signal was understood
throat. But
offspring caused
down her
for
mother’s destruction, for the
| glided
thought her
act de-
i
and the snake, gorged with
Mr.
into
| strike again,
{ young, lay dead at his feel
her body
¢
ratt then removed he
siders.” He opened the
and the four y
alive, The little
t come of the “in
iniuke oung all came out
animals
of form
had
they knew not
Mr.
the dom
Inanners s A8
ange happened
as if
Crane
| Lo go or what to do. att
noyed apparently at ib
| has been sometimes expressed
nukes affording thei
from danger:
sth Sanford the
a well-to-go
her own son,
I Years oid,
Satur
he father was absent
ies in Hen
{ the « SAYS
| mother the
| father's Winchester rifle from
and entered the prush-thicket
the house and the
mother was picking cotton.
his rifie on a stick, the boy says he sent
a bullet whizzing through his mother’s
{ brain. After she had fallen he lowered
his rifle and shot her four times, each
ballet entering the body, Having sat-
isfied himself that she was dead, he
emerged from the thicket and drew the
body about fifty yards and carefully
covered it with brush, He then hid
| the rifle in the woods, and entered the
house to await his father’s return.
About 8 o'clock the father came home
and instituted a search for his wife,
assisted by the boy, who professed he
had not seen his mother since noon. The
father did not suspect the boy, and
they together searched the neighborhood
all that might and next day. Sunday
evening some neighbors fonnd the body
secreted under the brush, and suspicion
was directed to the boy Valentine, the
only person on the plantation with his
mother at the thine, On being pressed
he confessed everything, saving he had
also intended to kill his father and bury
them both in the barnyard; then he was
gotug to write to his ancle in Wisconsin
and tell him they had both died, and
after this he said he was going to sell
the plantation and buy a lot of fine
horses and start out robbing stages, and
organize a band of robbers with himself
as chief. When his father learned that
his only son was the murderer he was
driven nearly crazy.
{ comm itle day
AT
He
£1}
WAL
rietta Jail,
4
v
it
i
field he took
and
was in his
rack
between
the
tield in which his
Resting
Waar Sux Sain. —A boy who has
been sent to carry asilver card basket
to a young lady as a bridal present, was
asked upon his return to the office, if
he found the right place,
‘Oh, yes,
“See the girl herself?"
“w on
“hd she seem
“Very much so.”
Farly Traditions,
The stories which cirenlate through
our cities, or in a thickly inhabited
neighborhood even in the country, or
find thelr way into newspaper columns,
have always In these days, be they never
#0 strange and startling, a touch of the
if a
ghost makes his or her appearance it is
realistic and prosaic about them,
sure to be arrayed in a coat or dress of
the most modern cut, and sitting
railway
in
if a
4
thie
or hanson cab:
she
mntter-of facet
carriage
youug lady elopes does it in
coolest, post manne:
ible, and never forgets to pack up
very
poss
even her tooth-brush: the horrors
wotmetling
4
al savors of the commonplace in thel;
aAtmad 1 ‘
sensationalism, and generally have for
scene of action a seullery full of
wes, and enlivened by thé melo.
or a market
garden peopled with }
bushes,
ever, very different in the region
whither
our readers,
Exmoor,
linger among
ghost would Ling
Ly Were
ali es
i5y parents
en give
when
he desired
{ be removed
n after death This fact
conhbdential
her finger
OWhD
servant,
as kr
isbhand’s
intrasted with the whole
arr
ntendin
ho had been
{ the funeral angements—his mas.
* "i fh i -
g 0 meet © Sad pro-
| cession until it got Lo the place of inter.
The man’s dishovest greed was
excited by the thought of the diamonds
ring. He stole to the
where the ba ly had been fepos
ment,
chamber
ited, and
tools he
once oO
in the
the coffin with some
with him, hoping at
get possession of the coveted treasure:
but the ring could not be got off the
cold, stiff finger, so he used a knife to
try to remove it. What was his terror
when blood began to flow from the sup-
posed dead hand, and the lady sat up
and gazed around her, No record tells
what was the ultimate fate of the would-
be robber and unintentional preserver,
but legendary lore says the lady, asa
token of thankgiving for her restora-
tion to ber husband and children, built
the church on the site of the old host-
lery,
opened
brought
nA A SSS
Plains of India.
Iu the piains of India at the eom-
mencement of the monsoon, storms
occur in which the lightning runs like
snakes all over the sky, at the rate of
three or four flashes in a second, and
the thunder roars without a break for,
frequently, ene or two hours at a time,
During twelve years’ residence in india,
says a writer, I heard of only two
human beings, and I think, three build«
ings, being struck, although in parts of
Lower Bengal, the population amounts
to more than 600 to the square mile. I
always attributed the scarcity of aocci-
dents to the great depth of the stratum
of heated alr next to the ground keeping
the clouds at such a height that most
of the flashes pass from cloud to cloud,
and very few reach the earth. The
idea is supported by the fact that in the
Himalayas, at 6000 feet objects are fre-
quently struck, I have seen more than
a dozen pime trees wiich have been
injured by the lightning on the top of
one mountain between 8000 and 9000
feet high. In the British islands thun-
der storms are sald to be more danger.
ous in Winter than in Summer, and
such a fact, if true, can be explained by
the very thin stratum of air then interve.