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.