TAKEN AT HIS WORD. A tlrnnftiit IJOVU Htorjr, Nellie Palmer was lying on the lounge in her pretty bedroom, crying mod looking very unhappy. And vet •he had beon married ouly nix months; and to such a "nice, handsome man," as oil tlio young ladies declared, that surely she ought to have been happy witu him. And so 8110 had been, until—un til, to tell the truth, Mr. Hob Palmer, forgetting, or Bcemiug to forget, that he was a married man, had recently taken to flirting with these very young ladies, at all the parties in Midalctou, leaving his wife to take care of herself. Surely it was enough to make any six-months' wife cry-—especially one o sensitive as Nellie. wNot that Mr. Robert Palmer loved his little wife a bit less than on the day of his marriage- neither that Nellie suspected him of it, or for a moment doubted hu morals, any more than she did his constancy. But Mr. Palmer was a gny young man, and loved to amuse himself and to be amused. Ho liked tho society of pretty and lively women, both married and single; and, in a word, lie liked to flirt, and saw no harm in it. So, while he hung over the young ladies' chairs, laughing and pay ing gay compliments, or promenading with the young married ladies, his wife wonld be looking over a photograph album, or conversing solemnly with somo old gentleman, or noticing some thy and awkv.ard child, while pretend ing to lie unconscious of her husband's proceedings. Not that she was com pelled to onjov herself in this solemn way—she, usually so bright, and pretty, and agreeable—but she had no heart for anything else now. Of late, all her liveliness and chattiness had left hor, and she answered absently and smiled listlessly, and, if compelled to dauco or mug, 'did so out of timo and out of tune, to her husband's great vexation. It is thus that many a young wife set tles down into a dull and faded old woman, while her husband grows hand somer and heartier, and wonders what on earth could have so changed her. "Hallo! been crying again, I declare!" exclaimed Mr. Bob Palmer, suddenly ©easing his little whistle, as ho entered the room, ou returning from his oflice. "What's the mutter now, Nellie? Ca aapr refused to sing, or Madame Vig lini not put flowers enough in your bonnet?" "Oh, Bob! how can you?" sobbed Nellie, beginning afresh. " Look hero, Ellen,"' said her husband, sitting down on the lounge, and speak ing more seriously; "I dou't like this at all. I never come homo that your eyes ore not red and swollen with crying. What have you to cry about, I should like to know ? It's an insult to me to go sniveling about the house in this fas! lion, and moping away in corners, looking sullen and miserable, as yon did lost night, at Maeklin's. Why, people • will think me a perfect denestio ty rant! " "Ah, Bob, don't speak sc! I can't help it, indeed. Ido feol sc miserable. Tou make me so, Bob." "17 Well, that is rich! Perhaps yon will bo good enough to let me know of what enormity I've been guilty, that has turned you into a modern Niobe?" "Nothing really wrong, dear; but, oh 1 if you knew how much a wife thinks of her husband's love, and—" Here poor Nellie broke down again. Mr. Palmer's eyes opened very wide. "Whew!" whistled he; "if this isn't really absurd, bo, she's jealous! " "Indeed, no, door Bob! But—but" —she could hardly speak for the chok ing in her throat— "yon can't under stand tho pride a woman takes in hav ing her husband treat her with affection and respect before every one, or how it humbles and mortities her to be neg lected by him, and have other women •n©aider themselves her rivals - like Is abel Baden." Mr. Bob Palmer langhcd outright, and then he grew angry. " Yon'r" an absurd little fool, Nellie," he said. "As if Isabel Budon were any thing to mo beyond a pleasant and agreeable young woman to amuse one's •elf with at a party. Nonsense!" "She don't think so," said Nellie; "and—and the others don't think so. They all think you are getting tired of your wife, and Isabel flatten herself that she has out me out, and is trying to Vet people see it." " Fiddlesticks 1" said Bob, rising im patiently from the lounge. " I'm uaton- Mhed atyoo, Nellie,and had really given you credit for more sense as well as temper," he added, severely. " I wish you'd amuse yourself in society as I do, Mislead of going moping shout in this feshion. Yon can't expect to have me tied to your apron-strings; and I'd much •other see you flirting a little yourself •ban skulking away in holes and cor ■ers, like a spider, watching your but terfly of a husband to see if yon can't detect him in doiug wrong. Yon make ■se quite ashamed of you, I declare." Mr. Palmer took his hat and walked eut of the room with an air of mingled dignity and injured innocence. His wife sat up, wiped sway hor tears, and ■msed awhile, with eyes flashing and •beeks flushed with wounded and in dignant fooling. " Yes," she said to herself, "since he has requested it, I will amuse myself *as he does,'and see how he Likes it! i Ashamed of me, hi ho? And ho did uot use to ho so when I was gay and happy. Oh, Bob, if you only kuew how I loved you I" And once more, despite her rosolnte ly closing her eyes ami pressing her Angers upon them, the tears would •one. There was to be, that very evening, u party at Col. Johnstou's, and Nellie took particular pains in dressing her aaU for it. Bho hod bean, of late, rather careless on this point, and was MOW rewarded for her extra caro by her hosbiiud's glance of approval and his ramark that the pink silk was becoming to her. In consequence, her eyes and ©hocks were brighter, and her spirits ■sore buoyant, as site entered Mrs. Johnston's crowded drawing-fooma. Bosrecly had they paid their respects to the ho*lose, when Mr. Palmer accosted, or. rather, was accosted, by Miss Baden, • brilliant, confident girl, who tried to •manure l.irn before his marriage; and, to the same moment, a gentleman oil- dressed Mrs. Palmer. Bhe answered mechanically, unable to withdraw her attentiou from her hiisbaud and his companion, until, seeing something in Miss Baden's glance at herself which alio did not like, her pride again awoke, and sho turned, as with a sudden de termination, to the gentleman ut hor side. He wu a rooent comer to ths town—very pleasant and handsome— and Nollio Palmer forthwith began to try and make herself agreeable to him. He looked so pleased, and was himself so agreeable, thut it soon cost ber no effort to converse; and then her old lively spirits returned; and, to her sur {irise, she found that she was enjoying lerself. Her husbaud didu't niurli notice this, but Miss linden did; and hor flirtutiou with Mr. Palmer lost much of its ohann, now that bia wife did uot appear mortified and jealous, and that people couldn't sec that Hho was so. Whoroforo Miss Buden grew indifferent, and Mr. Palmer bethought himself to look after Ids wife. Not liuding hor looking over the photograph albums, uor tulkiug to deaf old Mr. Brown, neither in any of the "holes and corners" which she was wont of lato to freoueut, he beeumo rather puzxlcd. "She's got in tho damps again, I snp poso," was his thought, "and is trying to disguise it under pretense of being ill. Dare suy I shall find her crying or fainting away in tho conservatory, with fans and smrdling-bottlcs round her—or perhaps she's gono home." At that instant n little laugh at his elbow startled him, and, turning, ho saw Nollio, bright and flushed, talking to a very handsome man, who appeared quite abscibed in her. Mr. Palmer stared a moment at the uucouscioys couple. "Why, the deuce! " was his thought; "what on earth can they have been talk ing about nil this while?" Then sud denly meeting his wife's eye, he smiled, and whispered, " Enjoying yourself, Nell?" "Oh, yes, dear, delightfully! Dou't trouble yourself about me, pray." He passed on, but didn't go far, and, as ho stood whispering soft nothings to sentimental Kate Marshall, his ores occasionally wandered to his wife. How pretty she was looking and how gay sho was, and liow coqnettishly sho was ex changing light repartee with that flirt ing fellow, Tom Harrison. And all the while tho handsome stranger never left her side. It was perfectly evident thut ho admired her. "If she were not n married woman he would certainly fall in love with her— she—my wife;" and ho felt a little re sentful of tho a Indention. Nellie Palmer had never sung more sweetly, or danced more gracefully than upon this evening." "Don't yen think, Noll, you've danced enough for ono night?" said her hus l and, toward the close of the evening; "for n married woman," ho added. "Perhaps so," sho answered, cheerful ly; "but I ve enjoyed myself so much! Really, I almost forgot that I was a mar ried woman, and felt like a girl again." "Aud behaved like one," ho said, rather coolly. " Who is that fellow tl at has been in attendance upon yon oil the evening?" ho inquitcd, AS they walked down stairs. "That remarkably handsome man, with the expressive dark eyes, do you mean ? " " I never noticed his eyes or that he was at all handsome," he answered, stiffly. "Oh, I thought you meant Cant. Lovfl], of the artillery. Ah! here he is- just one moment, dear—l quite for got " And Nellie spoke n few word* to the Captain in pasting, of which her hus band could distinguish only something about "that book." "Upon my word," he said sarcastic ally, "you appear very intimate al ready." " Because, love, we're discovered that we're congenial spirits. We like the same things -books, music, scenery; in deed, everything - and have the ramc opinions on most subjects. Yon know how pleasant it is to meet with one who can comprehend you—not your outer self merely, but with a sort of soul sympathy." "Boul fiddlesticks* "Yon never did have much senti ment, Bob," sighed Nellie, in an injured tone. " Hentiment be hanged 1 Come, Nel lie, bo qniek with your wrappings. It has been a stupid evening, and I shall be glad to get home and to bed." When Robert Palmer come home in it day, he found his wife, not crying, a* before, in her bedroom, but in the par lor, practicing a new song. "Capt. Lovrll called this morning," rho said, " and I have promised to siug this for liirn at Mrs. Campbell's." "Ah 1" he answered, with an expres sion of indifference; and, as his wife again struck np with the first few notes, ho muttered to himself, "Confound Capt. Lovelll" At Mrs. Campbell's, Capt. Lovell was again in attendance njion pretty Mrs. Palmer; and then other gentlemen dis covered her attractions, her piquancy, and oo'|iiettishncss. rfud /tirtnhlenesi; and so, in a very few weeks, Mrs. Pal mer wa* a belle, Hlie did not seem in the hast to care who hor husliand waa attending upon, and. indeed, he could rarely get a word with her at all, when at the gay assemblies which they con stantly frequented. Ho sometimes gave her a hint thatahc was " no longer a girl," and that ho waa her husband; but she ouly lauglied, and said there was no harm done, alid that ahc was en joying herself so delightfully, and felt herself more a liello than oven when a girl which was true, because she had not flirted then, being absorbed, heart aud soul, in Bob Palmer. But now it was Capt. Lovell who appeared chiefly to occupy her thoughts, as well as a good part of her time. Hhe sung and lanced with him; she read the i>ooks he sent; and so frequent were his vis its, so constant his attentions, that at last Mr. Robert Palmer's wrath Imrst forth. "Ellen," he said, ae he one day closed the door on the de)artiug Captain, "1 really cannot permit thia to go ou any longer. Y'otir conduct to me ia most unexpected—most astounding. Yon are by far too intimate with this fellow, Lovell. no is constantly in my houae; and lust evening ho scarcely loft your oido, whilo yon stood, for two hours, tho center of a group of chattering, grinning popinjay*, liko himHclf." ""Why, Hob, yon yourself blamed mo for playing wall-flower and ' spider,' and suid you were ashamed of mo." "1 am much more ashamed of you now," he retorted, severoly. " Now, dear, that i quite unreasona ble of you. Didn't you tell me that I would plcuee you by enjoying myself and flirting a little? You know you did," added Nellie, reproachfully; " and now that 1 am obeying you, you got jealouß." "Jealous? not II But lam offended and insulted - yes, and disgusted as we 11. If only you could hear tho remarks about yourself and that Lovell " "Birnilar to those that I heard in re gard to yon and Miss Baden, I pre sume? " said his wife. "What is Miss Baden to mo?" ho de manded, angrily. '"And what is Capt. Lovell to me?" "You encourage him, madam. Y'ou flirt with him." "As you do with Isabel Baden." "A man may do w hat is not permissi blo in a woman." | " Ah, that is it I " said Nellie, with her old sigh. " You men may neglect a , wife—may wear out her heart and life with anguish -may expose her to tho I pity or ridicule of all her acquaintance ; by allowing devotion to another; rnd | she, poor slave, must not presume to ! turn, as may even tho trampled worm, hut must bear all in meek rileuco, | never even imploring mercy, lest sho offend her lord. But 1 have hail enough of this, Bob; and now as you do to me l will Ido to you. If you go on flirting, iso will I. I know yon don't care a bit more for Isabel Baden than 1 do for Capt. Lovell; hut 1 will not be neg ! looted and humbled in the sight of the whole world. I am not a slave, but a wife, and demand the honor due to met" Her mood was a now one to her hus band. hlio sat erect and proud, look ing him stoadily in the face, with bright, clear eyes, in whose depths he could | stall read great tenderness; and he at once comprehended tho wholo matter. He looked at her a moment, as steadily as she at him, and then he rose and took a seat by her sido. "An l you really caro uothing for this Lovell, Nellie?" "No more than I ought to do for my cousin Laura's affianced husband," she replied. "A llianced ? " "These sis months; before I mot him; and I would have told you of it, Lut " Bho shipped, and looked half archlv in his face. Ho understood her, and, taking her in his arms, kiasc 1 her ten derly. " Oh, Bob 1 how could yon ever have doubted no?" "I will do so no more, love I" "Never flirt any more?" " Never 1 " Herd* of Wisdom. Make not thy fri-nd too cheap to thee, or thyself to thy friend. Only what we have wrought into our characters during life can w take away with us. Happiness ran lie built on virtue alone, and must of necessity have truth for its foundation. Sin produces fear, fear leads to bond age. and bondage makes all our duties irksome. If you are fishing for a good reputation you had lx-tter bail your hook with good deeds. When the human mind gets down to hub-dew into a rut of thinking. It's hard to lift it out. Talents archest matured 'ln duellsto; character is best formed in the stormy billows of the world. Menand women make sad mistake nliout their symptoms, taking their vague, uneasy longings sometimes for genius, sometimes for religion, and oftener still for a mighty love. As they who, for every slight sickness take physic to repair their health, do rather impair it. so they who lor every trifle are eager Ui vindicate their charac ter, do rather weaken it. It is easy to say " We will forget.' but perhaps the hardest task given us is to lo k up a natural yearning of the heart and turn a deaf ear to the plaint, for captive an l jailer must inhabit the same cell. Very few nun acquire wealth in such a manner as to receive sulistantial pleas ure from it. Just as long as there Is the enthusiasm of the chase, they etyoy it; hiit when they b< gin to look around and think of settling down, they find that that part by which joyenleis is dead within them. In the struggle of life the hero and the coward, the conqueror and the con quered. need sympathy equally. Often the mind which upholds otliets needs itself to be upheid; the honest heart that seems so Imld and true is fainting from secret sorrow, dying from some little wound which sympathy could saunch. Hearts, more or less, I suppose, most of us have, but we keep tlnm so close, cased and padlocked—we wear an out side o hard and dry—that little or none of tli> lovo that may be within escapes to gladden those around us. And so life passe-, without nn7 of the sweetening to society that conies when nflcrtton Is not only fell but expressed. To an ordinary observer the mass of Biople one metis seem bappy end joyous. ere and there, perhaps, we sec a care worn, sad face, nut the multitude pass on as sunny and smiling as ifther' was no trouble in the world. But could w lift-the voil and look Ix-neath this gay exterior, we should discover many alii - drngiirf, so many hearts are there that ache and make no sign, and that is not the bitterest sorrow that the world sees snd knows. Those griefs are the sorest and hardest to bear which must be kept concealed nnd never spoken of. Tint Prussian Oovernment appear* determined to make sum that the army shall not, like the French soldiery, lie pcracatcd by the leaven of democratic ideas. The troops stationed in Berlin have been forbidden to read the Liberal newspapers, snd their quarters are to lie searched at regular times for the prohibited journals aud for other ob jectionable publications. Severe pun ishment is promised those with whom such articles are found. ryt'. THE FA llt HEX. Fashion Not**. Alsatian bows, lace edged, arc worn. Mothcr-o'-pcarl buttons are exceed ingly stylish. Cascades and plastrons are formed of coral jet fringe. Breton lace, plaited, trims dainty cos tumes beautifully. Handkerchiefs of pink or blue batiste have edges of ecru torchon laec. Egyptian necklaces are composed of golden lizards alternating with gems. Handsome silk stockings have loco in sertion let In frotn the toe to the instep. Paon green velvet and crenie pompa doursatin form some elegant costumes. Beads and ornaments of amber deco rate the Moorish or Oriental fabrics ex quisitely. ' Satin skirts have the front openings between the pa&icrs filled in with tiny plaited frills. Pretty fichus and vests are made of crepe de ehino and brocaded gauze, deco rated with satin ribbon. Polonaises are very long, gnthcrod up in the center and looped high each side, forming small puttiers. All monotony of dress is completely broken up by the striking autumnal colors generally adopted. Bonnet shapes covered with silk net nnd beaded with jet or bends of any and ail colors are most stylish. Pretty tics are made of pompadour gauzes, blue and pink Surah and such bees us point d'enprit and Breton. Kibbon with pearled edges is new this winter and is costly enough not to be likely to grow common. The novelties in necklaces of twisted wires of gold and silver were in old<n times worn by those in authority. A fall parasol i < covered with damanse and <d •• d with a dlkon cord; another is of foulard, bordered with an embroider ed band and finished with a lace flounce. The novelties in fancy jewelry are ear rings and brooches of flies, sun beetles, lady birds and liecs, which are such good imitations that they are often mistaken for real. Dressy bonnets fr>r the winter will be of long-haired white felt, trimmed with white nnd colored feathers and lined with turquoise blue, ruby or gold shir n*d satin. Exquisitely delicate is the cream colorcd fabric, embroidered in pink rose buds and foliage.the half-blown blossoms being faint in tint and the leaves the rare yellowish gr<-n of early spring. Small black or white laec shawls are arranged on tin- shoulders in folds, li< d in at the waist with '.long ends hanging in front. Others are secured to'the waist by a pretty lace pin or bunch of flowers. The new bonnet strings are made o| double satin or silk, ar - al*>u* four inches in width and finished at the • nds with fringe, showing beneath it a daintv lace plaiting. They are secured beneath the tmck hair witli a fancy pin. An exquisite costume for a bride is of moonlight-blue satin and brocaded silk, decorated with embroidery and rare point lace, the looping* of the drapery ing secured with silver fern-leaf pin, the buttons, ornament* and jewelry to nia'.c 11, % A plain black velvet cloak is most charming for this season, and can be worn with any rich dIM. Still latT in the season pretty „ut of door jackets of fancy rlotli. in the various shades of gray and beige, trimmed with very pretty and often costly button* of wrought-iron. old *iiver or oxjdined metal, will lie exceedingly popular. The new bonnet ribbon* are wider than heretofore, ranging from two and a half to four indies. Tlicy come in all the old favorites, to which are added the new shot ribbon* and twilled silk serge ribbons, whfeh are very handsome. As already indicated, the strings are loosely tied at the lrnck of the bonnet, instead of being brought r. und in front. New smoked pearl button* are exquis itely carved in curious and pretty de signs. some bearing a tiny house sur rounded with shrubbery; other* a bird, a flower or a brandi with a tiny bird's nest filled with egg*. All of these are finely rut to show the variety of tints in smoked pearl. The Wftmrn of Etmrt. They are* not allowed to go out of door* as women in other countries are, and many of them ncverget beyond the walls of their houses. 'Hie cows sleep in the same hut with the people. These hut* are made of mud without windows, and the door* so small that the wonder is how the people get in. They do not wash their iKihio* till they are a year old, because it is considered unlucky to do so. They rarely comb their hair from month to month. Their chief meal is at sunset; Uie rest of the time they eat at apic<-eof bread when they are hun- , gry. They never use plates or knives or fork*. All sit nround the table on the floor. Bread i* their dally food and each family makes for itself, as it is a kind of disgrace to buy "street bread." . The women clean the corn and carry it I on their lu-ads to mill. It is made fnto thin, small cakes, stuck against the sides 1 of nn oven, and baked in le* than a ! minute. A hundred loaves arc not too , many for a family of four in a week. ; Travelers are usually expected to cat, three loaves apiece. They make butter in a strange way. A goatskin half filled with milk is hung on a peg. and then a , woman jerk* it to nnd fro till the butter , comes. Then she drains It, hut never washes or salts it. Their favorite dinli i* rice COOked With this butter. Tohnroo In the Urn-Roost. A French gentleman has developed a theory that the inhalation of tobacco smoke by fowl* cause* their fb-sli to assume a wonderfully white color and become very tend<T at the same time. He accordingly shut up a chicken in hi* fowl house, and set fire to a store of "enporal," which lie left burning in the place. The young fowl, so far from being averse to the odor ol tho narcotic, was inrlin xt to try its taste an well as its smell, and had in n few days' time consumed so much "cnpornl" that its flesh was not only whitened but " nioo tinlzed" with poison. To ft a* it stood —probably in a rather stupid state— upon its perch entered one night an ad venturer. The precious bin! was car ried off. plucked, cooked and eaten, and a short tune after breakfast the thief was seized with violent and intolerable pains. He rustled to the doctor, hendle** of th necessity which would arise of disclos ing hi* nocturnal cscapaoe. He was found to have been poisoned bv the nicotine contained in the flesh of the fowl, and was with some diflhulty savisl frotu death. UOMF IMHTOR. BCUNH AMD SCALDS. Those Injuries are not essentially dif ferent in their nature, the difference being simply that one in canned by rnoiat boat, and the other by dry. They are often ao alight as to be of little moment, but occasionally they ure ao sovere as to require the moat prompt and energetic treatment. When a burn doea not break tho akin, it in of little consequence, and ahould l>e treated like any ordinary inflam mation. Keeping cold water upon the part until the smarting ooafces, and then the application of glycerine, or, if this i not tolerated, common lard rubbed upon tho burned surface, ia all the treat ment necessary. Jf blisters are formed, they ahould he pricked to let out the i wutor, and then a poultice of slippery elin Uirk and water, or a mixture of beeswax and lard melted together and spread upon a ohith, may he applied with great comfort to the patient. But if tho injury ia more extensive, covering over a large surface, and ea yiecially if the tissues of the akin are destroyed, the difficulty ia neceaaarily distressing and often dangerous. In such rases the nervous system may be come affected, so that the patient will have severe chills, the pulse rna.v he small, frequent and feeble, the breath ing becomes oppressed, there is a ten dency to delirium, and death may occur us a result of the shock to the nervous system. In general, if one limb is en tirely involved, or a greater part of the trunk, the prospect of recovery is small. The treatment in the severest case# should be both constitutional and local The Bliof-k to tho nervous system is best relieved by a prolonged Lot full bath. The patient should lie immersed in water at 100 degrees, save the injured part, snd the temperature of the water should lie increased until it cannot lie tolerated any hotter. The Isith should ho continued until the nervous prostra tion is relieved, or from thirty to forty minutes. If the burns are doep, a good applica tion is a thick solution of gum arabic, which may lie prepared in a few min utes by dissolving tbegTim in hot water. After it is applied, it may IK- dusted over with powder, and so the tissues underneath will lie completely protect ed. Another good remedy is collodion snd sweet oil, in the proportion of one part of the oil to two parts of collodion. This may lie kept in an air-tight bottle for any length of time, and may be ap plied by a cumel's-huir brush, /t imme diately forms a firm covering to the ex posed surfaces, and so takes the place of the destroyed cuticle. If these sub stances arc not at hand, common dry flour ruuy ls> dusted upon the injured part to the depth of half an inch or so. All liniments to "draw out the fire" are worse than useless, for there is no (ire there to draw out. It should bo borne in mind that these, as well as all other injnrv *, ar- healed by the action of the vital forces alone, and all tliat can lc done from without is to protect the ex posed surface from the irritating influ ence of the atmosphere, and to balance the general circulation, ahould it be come disturtrtwl. People in general trust too much to external agencies, and too little to the only true source of heat ing. the vitality within. CUTS AXD SORES. 1. Accidental cuts from knives, cut ting tools, scythes, etc., are more likely to occur on the face and limbs than on the body. All that ia requisite iu gen eral is to bring the parts together as ac curately as |K>sible, and to bind them np; this is usually done by adhesive plaster, when the cut oeaari to bleed. Nothing is so g.xd for this purpose as paper previously washed over on one side with thick gum water and then dried; when used, it is only to be wet ted with the tongue. When the cut bleeds but little it is well to soak the part in warm water for a few minutes, or keep a wet oloth on it This re moves inflammation and paiu, snd also a tendency to fainting which Rcutgivcw some persons. If the bleeding be too copious, dab the part with a rag wetted with creosote. 2. A good salve for sores ia uncalled butter end grated car rots simmered well and strained clear. 3. To stop bleeding from wounds, an equal quantity of salt and flour, put on a clotli and applied to a wonn<X '"ill stop bleeding. It may lie left on for days or week*. 4. The best application for any and all flcsli cuts snd raw sores is gas-coal tar, which may be had at snv gas works where gas is made from ooaL A barrel of it, costing |2, has been in use at the Kirby homestead for ten years and is not half gone yet. Coal tar, when Applied to a flesh-cut, shuts out tho air and thus sto|is the smart ing; it will also keep off the flies. It is very healing, ami it is antiseptic— that is, cleansing—and will prow ut the growth of proud flesh. g" A Hit at ana, To the eye of Him who watehca over a sparrow's ftvll there is nothing great, nothing small. The man of science trains his eye to a similar impartiality in looking at nature. A moss to tho un trained eye seems insignificant. To the eye of the Iw tardst it is a little world. A Wend once complained to the groat Swedish liotaiiiet that Sweden did not afford scope enough for the study of nature. Linnama laid hit ham! upon a bit of moss, on a bed of which they were reclining, and aaid: " Under this palm is materia) for the truly of a lifetime I" One day, when lost in an African desert, Mtingo Park came across a tuft of moss. This bit of green growing in an arid waste was a messenger from God to tho desponding explorer. " If Ood cares for the moss," he said to himself, " surely He cares for me." And he went on his way, exhilarated by the sight of a bit of moaa. Wordsworth *| oaks to ears that can hear: To Bi* lbs (los Uiai l<lws na sirs Tboashts that <t often Us too tor tew*. IT Appears that Mark Twain has not bad the mumps in Palis,after all. What the ("reignem took for the mumps was oasis Mark's natural cheek. hove Is lowliness: on the wedding ring spaikle no jewels. PITH ATI) POINT. Ha or reading—News of the turf. THE early fruit fetches tho worm. THE hair crop is very short this season. * f ALMOST every German is a musical toot on. WHAT a barber should talk about while shaving a man—About two seo onds. "JiCHTHIIAD" ii tho popular name foe whisky in West Virginia. And those who indulge in it are usually " busted." Ah exchange asks: "In the vegetable race who ever saw the tomato catchup?" b j No one, of course; but the tomato cau. "Mr Soul's at tho Gate," is tho title of u new piece of music. He Lad l*et i ter bo careful, or he msy find tho old ! man's solo at the gate, too, some of 1 these fine evening:*. Jvi i, with * I'm lo lir Lair. bmi-41 M b*r tffclh 1* wn4, Iff r I i vjulm wjiii "nir. With a of ofl warm a-r Nti rr> i \j bar lov* urge'l int ( 1 t/ r x>tulriK rl/Lt fcioDf. .A LITTLE dog in a front yard will make more noise than a whole menagerie particularly when a fellow is trying to slip out of the front door without rnak ' ing any noise, and the old folks happen to *1 *-p right over the front stoop. Elmira (J cue tie. LITTLE Bid.* was told: "Never ask for anything At the table. Little Ikjvs should wait until they are served." The | other day, after reflecting seriously s minute or two, he asked : "Mamma, when little boys starve to death do they go to | heave® V"— Pari* j.aper. SOME persons have a great faculty for getting on in the world. The little shaver who stood at the foot of bis class when we wire schoolboys together now proudly guards tho left fi Id in some crack bu.w-ball club, and is playing for a (hiding average of .s)7o.— Sexr Haven 1 Ileg inter. Wiieh you see a woman going toward ! the river with a good-si red pole in her band, and n wrinkle across her nose, you needn't think she's going fishing. Not much! ihe's got a boy down that way who nroraiced her, with tears in his eyes, lie wouldn't go in swimming, | —SlubenvUle Herald. " GEXTLEME* of the jury," said Mr Phelps to the twelve me® of Worthing ton, Minn., who had convicted his <laughter of selling cider without a licercc, "all I've got to say is, you're a let of jackasses, and you may wave ' your ears over that sohmn truth." Mr. Phelps was fined |lO for contempt of j court. Hathart died without knowing the rapture it is to catch tho expression on j the face of ft man who chase* a street- * car three blocks, and then, just before I be makes the jump for the step, pulls up suddenly and goes hack to the side . walk, trying to look as though he hadn't 1 ju*t discovered that he hadn't a solitary, lingering red cent about his clothes. Ilr. looked up very humbly, and aaid he was sorry to Ins found in such a place, but he could assure the oourt ! that he was never in the prisoner's box before. "Never?" asked the court, with some severity. " Look-a-bcre, Judge," said the culiTit, " name the fine, bnt for Heaven's sake don't spring that ' Pinafore' gag on a fellow."— Turner' Fa lln liej/orter. * TAVTT. Of *3l crnt*ruatk9 tn th* Hat. TT# girl* 1-A.Ty ■ A'd. Willi R tL< >r.Ui m4l kUMI. Tb*ir Jot !■ (tif rdmpltt! Hr boy*, r. th*y ft (>* kin? fO, Ar in 1 vVm llift fif . Uh'W, AxxJ t • *! Joy*"* -( (.%•*. *€/c*ai AMfrtUflT. Lightning Rod in an interesting article in the Ruxld inq World,, it is stated that thete is in CarinLhia a church which was so often struck by lightning that at length it be came t lie custom to close it during the summer month*. This continued until, I in 177*. the chun-h was rebuilt and pro vided with a suitable lightning con ductor. since which time the building lias been struck but few times and has suffered but little damage. It was at one time held that the best wav to pro tect a building was to repel the light ning from it. and as glass is one of the best non-conductors, n thick glass hall was placed upon the top of the spin of Christ Church. DoncasU'r, England, but in ll lightning struck the rburch. shattering the hall and seriously damag ing the spire. The carrying out of a theory which in litis case proved so dis astrous hn had a happier result in the I louse of Parliament. I sin don. where Sir W. Snow Harris, who was charged with protecting the building, carried the flat copper ba*d* which were used for lighlningconductorsltehind the plas tering of the walls; and Faraday a spiral channel, following tho e mrsc of tlie stairs from top to hnttom. to be cut in the gran te of the light-house on Ply mouth breakwater, in which was laid a massive copper lightning rod. One of the Ix-st inst.xnces of whnt may be called natural protection is affordi.-d by the Ismili>n Monument. Ttdsmlumn. some two hundred fi-ot high, is crowned by a hpbnite flame, which typiflra tfw great fire of lsindon; this flame is in contact with the bars of the iron cage in which it was found necessary to Inclose the balcony at the un, to prevent persons from throwing lliemselves over, and the bars in their turn connect with the rail of the balcony and lite band-rail of the staircase which descends to the ground. It Is useless ta try to insulate tlx' vane spindle or finial upon a towv or spin* by using glass rings; it is hctts#! to make tliis rod the upper part of the lightning conductor. The earth end ol a lightning conductor should be carried to continually damp earth or running water, twit not to a stone-lined well cistern. - - M. | A Grammatical KrAr. Colorado has the most delightful cli mate in the world, and hod-bugs. A mother in Israel residing there requires her granddaughter, a young High- Schooi miss, to read to her daily souto* portion of the Good Book. While so engaged recently the young lady *ud denly stopped, and exclaimed: "Why. grandma. I dccliure here ia a grammat ical error." The old lady only replied: "No mat ter, darliug. Kill it, end go on."- llarpti'i Haoatine.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers