,
¥
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