, ¥ WEITER Ning a aera a vd eo A - C—O mt Mother to Babe. fp —— Fleck of sky you are, Dropped threugh the branches dark, O, my little one, mine! Promise of the star, Qutpour of the lark; Beam and song divine. See this precious gift, Steeping in new birth All my being, for sign Earth to heaven can life, Heaven descend on earth, Both in one be minel Life in light you glass When you peep and coo, You, my Tite @ one, mine! Brooklet chirps to grass, Daisy looks in dew Up to dear sunshine, Isca Arlington is coming down stairs a the morning sunshine, her beautiful sce full of eager expectantey. A slight childish figure in white cash- sere morning, dress the masses of her mut-brown hair worn low at the back of he head in a soft loose knot, a great red pse in one small white hand. luck the rose from the uplifted gilded asket held by a marble Flora, and thich is kept replenished always. All'about the girl are warmth, light nd color, he property of her guardian, Arthur Jinsmore, Isca has lived there ever since she ame from school, some two years pre- ous—3a nd school-days. er in the untried future. Jinsmore, who stands in the position of ounselor and best friend to the lonely ittle girl, wed sister, Mrs. Lyell, superintends 1is house and makes a home for Isca. She comes slowly down the stairs, a ight in her beautiful brown eyes, which eepens and brightens at the sight of «r guardian, pore stands at the foot of the stairs to eceive her, “Good-morning, ma petite,’’ he cries ng than his words. ‘‘So this is your sirthday, and to-night is your birthday alll”? She sm norning iles sweetly as she returns his greeting. “*Yes—I am twenty years old to-day,” he says gayly. “1 begin to feel the veight of years, ‘oing to be, to be sure!” e smiles, ‘‘Heaven nay U® as cloudless as now,’ rery tenderly, **No guardie’’—the girls eyes are up- ifted to his own, a solemn light in their lgpths—*‘pray rather that I may be 3 he says riend in whom to ftrust—one true eart.”’ *‘ Amen!’ he says fervently. "That night is a gala night er night in the annals of thé neighbor- wod, The Dinsmore mansion stands upon a loping hillside not far from a big bust- ing city, and the inmates enjoy the Jeasures of both city and country life. Isca Arlington is as proud as she is ovely, She has been reared in an at- gosphere of pride, andZshe puts great aith in an unsullied family name, long ineage, and illustrious ancestors, rjous: her mother was drowned at sea, shen Isca was but a babe. he first in the land. ovely beyond compare. airies’ handiwork, with pearls about gasses of soft brown hair, dressed in weoming fashion, Arthur Dinsmore seen her promena- ling dpwn the long vista of brilhantly- ighted rooms leaning on the arm of +08 Grosvenor, the son of a wealthy and gistocratic baaker from the neighbor. ng city, A strange wistful express ato Dinsmore’s dusky eyes. How handsome they are- satched pair. Lee Grosvenor, slight and graceful, sith Lis blonde smiling, high-bred face; naughty face it is, for the Grosvenors ze among the first in the land. Arthur Dinsmore checks a little sigh * hat hovers near lis lips, and turns mietly away, a look of patience grow- ug 1a his eyes. “It is well,” he says softly to himself, * ‘She is so fair and young, and life lies wfore her full of glorious possibilities, "am old—old compared with her for be is twentyand I thirty-five. But ah! . wonder if he will ever love her as—-I 0? I wonder if his love would stand be test of clouds and adversity? If his - ill prove the one true heart on which o lean—of which she spoke to me this norning ?—Daxling Isca-~if she were to ream of my secret, would she turn from « ne—my proud dainty darling?” Yet he looks stately and handsome as we stands watching her, whirling now hrough the sweet “Mon Reve" waltz wer partner Lee Grosvenor, ‘Her eyes arefull of sweet light as they ~neest the blue eyes bent upon her face, md the long eye lashes drop in confu- don. : The music now sobs itself into silence and Lee Grosvenor, bending his hand- ome, blonde head, says pleadingly. “let us go into the conservatory, Miss Isca. Itis so cool and very re- ‘reshing there.” She knows what is coming, and that ge Is leading her hither for some pur. pose, She intends to let him , but her ‘throbbing heart is not certain of its There is a haming look 1a Juirel feep, dark eyes which follow her in memory always; she can not shut out Ahat look of reproach. Sbe seats herself upon a silken divan, ion steals that well- and Lee Grosvenor proceeds to tell his story. It is done, and Isca Arlington has been asked in marriage by one of the proudest, haughtiest, most exclusive amen of the great city, a man who can excuse sin and condone erime sooner than any accident of birth or fortune, Her eyes droop, and she lifts them to his face with sudden resolution, and scarcely knows herself why she makes this unexpected reply: **(xive me until to-morrow, Mr. Gros venor, I—really, I have thought so little upon marriage, and your words frighten me,” He presses his mustached lips upon the soft, white hand. “1 will wait until to-morrow for my answer,” Le says passionately, ‘‘Hea- ven grant, my peerless darling, that it may be yes!" And then the music wails forth again, and Isca remembers that she is to waltz with her guardian and she rises with alacrity. They have crossed the threshold of the conservatory; the music is surging far away in a distant room, but the apartment into which the conservatory opens is thronged with gay guests, Just as the two emerge from the atmosphere of flowers and plashing | fountains, there is a subdued bustle in { the entrance hall of the house; a mo- ment later a woman makes her way past the gaping, terrified servants into the long, bright, brilliant drawing-room. face, bearing the marks of dissipation; she wears a tattered gown and a gaudy, faded shawl, while a tawdry bonnet is face. One swif. glance around, and she ton by the arm, tearing the soft, white | lace of her dainty sleeve to tatters in her rude grasp, The girl falls back, trembling vio- { lently, her large eyes lifted to the cruel face before her, as though too terrified { to utter a word, “My child!” cries the woman, tragic- { ally, “my own child!" I have found you | at last!” And while Isca stands trembling and speechless, while Lee Grosvener is too overcome with astonishment to find | words, Mr. Dinsmore suddenly appears { upon the scene. He utters a low cry of | surprise, | “Iscal Good heavens!” he pants { wildly, **who--what is this woman?" wheels about, confronting the master of the house. | “I am Marion Arlington!’ she says ton, this girl's father, as 1 will soon prove, Her words are wild a terrible spectacle to the guests who | crowd around-horror-strickén, speech- | less, She g0es on. | “We quarreled—he and sent me across the ocean. I swore {come back and punish him; She is my child, ' a few weeks ago of his death, come to claim my daughter.” speech, and her like a wild beast's. side, She starts to see how very pale he has band into true? Tell me “Arthur —she slips her ity you—do you—believe i I shall go mad!” | **There was some trouble { your father and mother, Isca,” he re- | turns, “Your mother was a plain unas. | suming woman, I have been told; but I oh, ture, we will inquire into the affair.” The woman calling herself Marion | tiful proud Isca Arlington is really her | her proofs—not now, Lee Grosvenor has been standing cow- | ering like a whipped spaniel, at a little | side and gazes coldly into her face, | “Miss Arlington,” (how his voice | cuts the Silence) “YI never dreamed {of such a—a di re as this. I am | forced to withdraw all pretensions to { your hand for the Grosvenors are stain- | less, our honor, our family name is para- { mount to all other considerations,” | She flashes upon him like a proud | empresas, “You are an honor to your name, sir!” she assents scornfully. ‘‘Good- evening, Mr. Grosvenor!’ bowing coolly by way of dismissial, Arthur Dinsmore takes her hand in his own and leads her away to a deserted room, I must pla or I shall die!” he cries wildly, ‘‘Isca I love you so. Am I too old, too—."" “The best-the dearest of true hearts!” she intervenes tenderly, ‘Oh, guardie, would you marry me with that—that woman claiming me as her child? Think of the disgrace, the shame, the humilia. tion to your proud name. And the Dinsmoreg are as noble as the Grosven- ors. And “‘Kind hoartanre more than coronets: And simple faith than Norman blood.” He is holding her close to his heart now with tender kisses showered upon the sweet, upturned face. His promised wife; and the one true heart is found at last, Then the silence of that happy scene is broken by the entrance of strangers two rough- ing men, who prove to be keepers of an insane asylum, in quest of the woman calling herself Marion Arlington, She is an escaped lunatic—the most desperate, most cunning ease in the in- stitation, #0 the keepers go on to ex. plain, She proves to be late Marion Arling- brs foatd, Who has been with that lady ough al ourney. The secret of the misunderstanding between lIsca's parents will never be TR Sh ue le Was lost at sea, sho had stolen the mar- in then in het possengiaiy planned the plot worthy of a madwoman, to claim the pul who might (so the maddened brain wd plotted) save her from the insane asylum. It is all explained, and the poor, de- mented creature is taken away; and old friends crowd around Isca with con- gratulations, She listens with sweet smiles; then she returns ently: Out of all evil some good may come, Had it not been for to-night’s occur- rence, I might have missed the happi- ness of my life—I might never have known the real value of one true, tender heart!” cesses GIA ———— she Eats Beans. As the car hove in sight she raised her right had, took hold of the iron rail on the car with a firm grip, and then, as the step came along, lifted her left foot and placed 1t firmly on its rough sur- face. This done, her hand was braced against the dasher to overcome the sud- den momentum given to her body. There was a brief vision of a little bronze boot framed in the ruffieof a white skirt, and that boot swung on to the car, moved up on the platform and still holding to the rail with her right 80 much as offering to help her. ent the girl was seated. ‘I tried to help her twice, and she looked mad i enough to eat me, so I let her alone. You just wait and see her get off. She's going over to the Alhambra to supper, and she'll jump off as pretty as | she got on.” “The car moved on down Washing- | ton street, through Temple place, down { row, and that girl sat there, tapping { her thumb on her knee i | unconscious that she was watched, {| When opposite the Bowdoin Square | Baptist church sherose to her feet and | adjusted her bustle, and during a brief §lop in frogt of the Cambridge ear of- fice sha walked out to the door. When | step, with her left hand on the iron rail that which is fastened to the rear dash- | er. Here she stood, swaying a moment, {like a bird on a limb; then nds let go the iron supports and pressed in against the sides of her skirt, her night { heel dropped to the pavement, and off i she went tripping to the Alhambra, while her yellow bag hung by a strap { from her shoulder jumped up and down | like a dog that is glad to see its master. | “Wasn't that done beautifully?" ask- ied the conductor, ‘I've good many girls jump off cars when going, i but she beats them all. She knows | how, and does it gracefully.” Five minutes later the reporter walk- ed back up Green-st.,, and looked in at Alhambra doorway. There at a table near the wall sat the heroine eat- ing baked beans and coffee her lu SO8en a i —— The Stores of Paris Paris beautifies herself as much for world as for her own She lives off her visitors, and up to catch These great stores which at night are illuminated brilliantly, both Lines of gas-jets with strong blaze down upon the goods dis- Nearly all the goods of the store, as a rule, are in the windows, and feet square on the inside, I except, of course, the grand establishments of the “Magazin du Louvre,”” and the “Bon Marche,” Your average Parisian merchant be- gins business at about 8 and closes at about 9 in the evening. At noon takes a recess for two hours for his business is done all over the city. The man and his wife, as a rule, work to- gether, and the wife here is the better half in a business way. It is she who keeps the cash account, and the books of Paris may be said to be kept by wo- men, are not beautiful, but they are intensely practical, and they make excellent wives and good mothers. The love for family is strong in France, general reports to the contrary notwithstanding, and no nation has more loving fathers and dot- ing mothers than this, Small Feet of Southern Women. A lady of medium height may have a finely shaped foot such as common ru- mor gives to Mm, Cleveland, but in the south a No. 3} slipper is not usually designated as dainty, Probably 24 is as large as the term will stand, People who frequent southern ballrooms and summer resorts comment upon the fact that extremely small feet, feet incased in slippers running from 1 to 2§ are largely in the majority, Not many years since this subject was discussed in a ball room in Macon and experts were able to discover out of eighteen pairs present and twinkling in the mazes of the dance but three numbers larger than 24, and in the assembly were damsels who would have Hpped the beam at 135, This preponderance of small feet In the south among ladies of high social standing has been accounted for on many t the most natural one, we think, being the explanation that these ladies do not use their feet with thy freedom and constancy that may be observed in other sections. They are not walkers, in the first place. It isa rare thing to find in southern cities ladies of the class described who a two miles per day the year round, Climate roadways, as well as custom, are exercise; the feet are HABITS OF CERTAIN ANTS, How Almost Human They Appear to be in Their Passions. In spite of the multifarious duties and tasks that are imposing on these tiny burghers they still find time to clean and adorn their worthy little persons, No spot, no atom of dust or anything else uncleanly will they tolerate on their bodies. They get rid of the dirt with the brushy tufts on their feet or with their tongue, They act, for all the world, like domestic cats when they clean and lick themselves, and they assist one another at the toilet precisely like monkeys. Their sense of cleanli- ness goes so far that the naturalist often finds, to his unpleasant surprise, the colored marks that he had applied with s0 much care on his ‘‘trial ants’ re- moved by their dirt hating friends, They keep their dwellings just as cleanly. But the conveying away of thelr de- ceased brethren, whose dead bodies they | appear to regard with the greatest un. tipathy, gives them more trouble than anything else. When some members of an ant community, which I kept lmpris- oned, died and could not be removed, those remaining seemed to be affected with the greatest horror. For days the msects ran about seeking a way out, | and ceased only when completely ex- hausted, The ants belonging to the camponotus species seized the dead and | threw them into a water pail, which | they converted into a sepulchire, Ordi- ! narily, though, the ants are said to treat their dead with thore reverence, They | even their own graveyards, which lie in the vicinity of their nests, | They convey their deceased companions | thither, where they lay them down In | orderly little heaps or in rows, It is from a life full of labor, hardship | and strife that death releases tive little animals. When not in labor they are busy in defense, tinels posted in commanding positions { guard them from surprises of every | kind, As soon as danger is threatened { the citizens of the state, at the alarm signal of the pickets, dart out of their { habitations, From nocturnal dangers their houses protect them, since they barricade the entrances with leaves and little sticks. And that is accomplished, according to Mr. Cook, in the following manner: The large workers first heavy material, and, having placed it in position, disappear mn the inside of the Then the ants of medium with material corresponding to And finally the smallest the community bring possess i nest, follow their strength, members of complete the barricade, The doors are closed behind them un- til the dawn of the next day, and then the exit occurs in reverse order. The i small are ones are the last of the column, But ants are not merely acquainted with the earnest side 6f life; they are Ones as well. Just as kids in the wantonness | to mimic combat in the meadow, so do | the else so industrious uments. With | fealers and feet the combative individu- als urges on its companions until they accept the challenge, Standing on hind feet they grasp each other with the frout ones and apply rapidly both head and jaws, Then they let go, turn round respective strength they separate peace- fully. of the duel is quite different. As with the heroes of bats take place under the eves of the opposing armies, weaker surrender at discretion, The antenns are thrown back and the jaws Amid biting and stab- the desperate struggle goes on, there is a pushing against one | bing Then ward, a hurling to the ground and a rolling over one and another, until at | last one of the combatants succumbs, or | nists, The secretion of the poison glands, | missile weapons in battle, the jaws for stabbing. These battles of the ants are obstin. ately fought and bloody in the extreme. Differences in regard to territorial boun- daries, thievish forays and invasions for the purpose of procuring slaves are gen- erally the casus belli. While the battle | is in progress columns of troops are con- stantly coming and going, transporting prisoners or bringing up re-enforce. ments, It is not rare for a battle to last an entire day, and whole armies are sometimes annthilated, so that innu- merable bodies of the dead and wounded cover the field. i ———— “Pure, Cheap Wines ® Sansa A great deal of eloquence is wasted in attempting to show the utility of the “pure cheap wines of France. e fact is a pure cheap wine is a rara avis which the common People on the fur ther Celtic side of the English channal seldom see in these days, During this last summer a gentleman of American birth, but living in Paris, collected ten imens of vin ordinaire, or the red wine from nearly as many different shops, and had them tested by a compe- tent chemist, with the result of finding out Sa only Sue Spciinsn of Mth ten had » single drop Pe ju n it, All the othar nine had Deen manufactu- red of various and sold for wine, To this may be added the testimony of a German physician, who said that out of 440 specimens of Bordeux wines which had been analyzed, only 22 con- tained the ingredients belonging to real wine. The reason of this lies prinagsily in the fact that the phylloxera been . . SCIENTIFIC TRUTH. Regarding the Functions of an Im portant Organ. OF WHICH THE PUBLIC KNOWS BU? LITTLR, WORTHY CAREFUL CONSBID- ERATION, To the Editor of the Scientific American: Will you permit us to make known the public the facts we have learned dur- ing the past 8 years, concerning dwsorders of the human Kidneys and the organs which diseased Kuineys so easily break doun? You are conducting a Sctentific paper, and are unprejudiced except wn favor of TRUTH, It ws needless to say, no medical Journal of *' Code" standing would admit these facts, for very obvious TEASONS, H. H. Warxer & Co., Proprietors of * Warner's Safe Cure.” explain the relation the kidneys sustain to the general health, and how much metaphorically speaking, to take one wash-bowl before us, and examine it for the public benefit, us a body shaped like a bean, smooth und glistening, about four inches in length, two in width, and one in thick- ness, It ordinarily weighs in the adult male, about five ounces, but is some- what lighter in the female. A small organ? you say. But understand, the about ten quarts of blood, of which every drop passes through these filters or sewers, as they may be called, many line a day, as often as through the heart, mak- utes, From the blood they separate the waste material, working away steadily night and day, sleeping or waking, tire- less as the heart itself, and fully of as much vital importance; removing im- purities from sixty-five gallons of blood each hour, or about forty-nine barrels each day, or 9,125 hogshead a year! What a wonder that the kidneys can last any length of time under this pro- digious strain, treated and neglected as they are? roughly describe its interior. We find it to be of a reddish-brown color, soft and easily torn; filled with thread-like, starting from the arteriss, from the outside opening into a cavity of considerable size, which is called the pelvis or, roughly speaking, a sac, which is for the purpose of holding the water These little tubes are the filters which do their work automatically, they are obliged to, from the irregularity in our habits, or a thousand and somewhat weakened nerve force, What is the result? stoppage of the current of blood In the in their which become blocked; these delicate inflamma- collects in the pelvis or sae; the tubes The vessels. All this time, remember, the be flitered, 18 passing through thes terri ble, dwsgusting pus, for it cannot take Stop and think of it for a moment. Do you realize the importance, nay the vital necessity, of baving the Kidneys in order? Can you expect when they bow little, that you can have pure blood and escape disease’ It would be just as reasonable to expect, if a pest-house were set across Broadway and count- less thousands were compelled to go through {ts pestilential doors, an for one to expect the blood to escape pollution when constantly running through a diseased kidney. Now, what is the result? the blood takes up and deposits this poisun as it sweeps along inte every organ, into every inch of muscle, tis. sue, flesh and bone, from your head to your feet. And whenever, from hered- itary influenee or otherwise, some part countless train of diseases is established, such as consumption in weak lungs, dyspepeia, where there is a delicate stomach; nervousness, insanity, paraly- sis or heart disease in those who have weak nerves, The heart must soon feel the foots of the poison, as it reqaires pure blood to keep ot in Tight action, It increases its sate for the natural stimulus wanting, in its endeavor to crowd the impure blood through this obstruction, causing paln, palpitation, or an out-of-breath feeling. Unnatural as this forced labor is, the heart must soon falter, day it swdidenly stops, and death from a t “heart disease’ is the verdict, ut the medical . and dignified, call these diseases by high sounding treat them alone, and patients die, for the arteries are carry affected part, con brought, from these + pus- ys whiel here in our wash-bowl are very putre faction itself, and which should have been cured first. But thas Is not all the kidneys have to do; for you must rememb sr thal eact adult takes about seven pounds o nourishment every twen ur houn to supply the waste of the body whict {s constantly go equa kidney, where there are few nerves o feeling bo convey the sensation of pain Why this is 80 we may never know. hen you consider their great work the delicacy of thelr structure, the eas with which they are deranged can yot wonder at the ill-health of our men and women? Health and long life cannot be expected when so vital an organ U impaired. No wonder some writer say we are degenerating. Don't you see the great, the extreme importance of kezping this machinery in working order? Could the finest engine do ever | # fractional part of this work, withou! i attention from the engineer? Don’t i you see how dangerous this hidder | disease 1s? It is lurking about us con |'stantly, without giving any indication of its presence, | The most skillful physicians cannot { detect it at times, for the kidneys them | selves cannot be examined by any means | which we have at our command. Ever | an analysis of the water, chemically | and microscopically, reveals nothing { definite In many cases, even when ti | Kidneys are fairly broken down. | Then Jook out for them, as disease | no matter where situated, to 93 pes | sent., as shown by after.death exami | nations, has its origm in the breaking { Jown of these secreting tubes in the interior of the kidney, As you value health, as you desire long life free from sickness and suffer | ing, give these organs some attention. i Keep tehmw in good condition and thus | prevent (as is easily done) all diseases, Warner's Bafe Cure, as it becomes year after year better known for itt | wonderful cures and its power ovel {he kidneys, has done and is doing more to increase the average duratior of life than all the physicians and i medicines known, Warner's Safe Can is a true specific, mild but certain | harmless but energetic and agreeable t« | the taste, Take it when sick as a cure, and never let a month go by if you need ig, without taking a few bottles as a pre | ventive, that the kidneys may be kep! in proper order, the blood pure, thal health and long life may be your bless. | ing. H. H. Wanxes & Co, A Accson Dietetic Fallacies, { 1. That there isany nutriment in bee | tea made from extracts. There is non whatever, 2. Thagela It wil not keep a cat alive. Beef tea and gela tine, however, possess a certain repara tive power, we know not what, 3 l to a pound o ne is nutrition * 18 nutritious, . That an egg is equal meat, and that every sick person can ea 8. Many, especially those of nervou iilious temperament, cannot ea injurious an importan nust be forced upon Food that a person cannt vill not cure, That arrowroot is nutritious, simply starch and water, useful ative, quickly prepared. 6. That cheese injurious in al cases, It is as a rule, contra-indicated being usually indigestible; but it is con centrated nutriment, and a waste re pairer, and often craved. 7. That i8 3 ( vr 4 & the cravings of a patient ar whims, and deniod. The stomach often craves for, am digests, many articles not laid down any dietary. Soch are, for example fruit, pickles, jams, cake, ham or ba with fat, cheese’ butter, and milk. 8. That inflexible diet may b marked out, which shall apply to ever; Choice of a given list of article allowable In a given case must be deci ded by the opinion of the stomach. The stomach is right and theory wrong, am the judgment admits no appeal. A diet which would keep a health; man healthy might kill a sick man; ant | a diet sufficient to sustain a sick ma: would not keep a well man alive. In creased quantity of food, especially of liquids, does not mean increased nutri ment, rather decrease, since the diges tion is overtaxed and weakened, Strive to give the food in as concentrated | form as possible. Consult the patient” | stomach in preference to his cravings and if the stomach rejects a certair | article, do not force it. should needs, I CASE, mss AI AS SA Shrewd Buffaloes, The tame bufialoes of India are sale to possess an unusually intelligent na- ture, notwithstanding their rough ex- terior. An English traveller, who has made the passage up the Brahma-pootra relates an instance of mathematical cal | culation on the part of these animals such as mast have been amusing to wit. | ness, as it is entertaining to read. | “Once,” he says, “while our party were awaiting the arrival of a steamer | coming down the xiver, wanting some- | thing wherewith to occupy our minds | we became interested in watching the | behavior of a herd of buffaloes belong: ing to a neighboring village. We re | marked that each morning, about six o'clock, the whole herd swam across the { river from the opposite side, the bull | considerably in advance leading the | way, followed Ly the matrons with their | calves by their sides, | “Entering the water about half a mile { farther up on the © ite bank, the | strong current washed them downto the | village where they wished to land. This | was as judicious a calculation of dis | tance and power of the current as could | have been made by the most able mat he- matician, “The river at this point was fully a mile broad, but as there was better feed. ing-ground, on the other bank, the ani- mals preferred the swim. After they had reached the bank safely there was a halt for a few minutes to rest and re. cover breath, “It was a pleasing sight to watch the natural anxiety of each matron for her young one towards the end of the swim, when they were to tire; the