Centre Democrat. (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1848-1989, May 10, 1883, Image 2

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    Woman's Voice,
Not in the swaying of the eummer treee,
When evening breezes sing their voeper
hymn—
Not the minstrol's mighty symphonies,
Nor ripples breaking on the river's brim,
Is earth's best music; those may have awhile
High thoughts tn happy hearts aud irking cares
beguile.
But oven as the swallow's silken wings,
Skimming the water ol the sweeping lake,
Stir the still silver with a hundred rings—
So doth one sound tho stooping spirit wake
To bravo tho danger and to bear the harm—
A low and gentle voice—gear woman's chiel
est charm.
An excellent thing It is' and ever lent
To truth and love, and meekness; they who
own
This giR, liy the all grarioua (liver sent,
Ever by quiet step and smile are known;
By kind eyes t list have wept, heart* that have
Sorrow \l.
An excellent thing it is—when first in glad
neas —
A mother looks into her infant's eyes—
Smiles to its smiles, and saddens to its sad
ness—
I'alo* at its paleness, sorrows at it* cries;
Its food and sleep, and smiles and iittlo joys—
All these coiao ever blent with onejlow, gentle
voioe.
An excellent thing it is when life is leaving—
Leaving with gloom and sadness, joys ami
cares—
Tho strong heart falling, and the high soul
grieving
With strongost thoughts and wild, unwonted
fears;
Then, then a woman'b tow, solt svmpathy
Comes like an angel's voice to teach u* how to
die.
But a most excellent thing it is in youth,
When tho lond lover hears the loved one's
tone
That fears, but longs, to syllable tho troth—
ilow their two hearts are one, ami she his
own;
It makes sweet human music—oh! Ihe spoil*
That haunt tho trembling tuio a bright-eyed
maiden tells. — Edwin Arnold. '
"A Desperate Character."
AN ADVENTURE IN LONDON.
I went to Covent Garden theater
one night la-st season. We were let !
out at 12, and sot off to iny lodgings. j
I knocked; there was no answer. I !
knocked again; a window was thrown
up and my landlady's head appeared. J
"Who are you?" she screamed.
"Let's in, please; it's me!" I an- !
i
swered.
"Then, Mr. Me, if you don't come j
home before 10 you may still out till
mornin'. I never wait up for my '
lodgers—my door is closed at 10!" and
then the window closed with a bang. '
"No g<>!" thinks I. "I have no
money, I'll go to a railway-station and
wait in the waiting-room till morning;" |
whicli resolution I proceeded to carry ;
out by walking briskly for the bank, j
I turned into Moorgate street, and
was just thinking whether I should g<> ;
to London, Brighton and South Coast |
or the London Bridge station. I
stopped to think. There was a con- |
fectioner's shop just in front of me. i
Oh! that it were open! I had three
pence left.
Just at this moment a tall, broad- j
shouldered man came up to me and 1
viewed me from top to toe. I looked
at hirn. He was dressed in dark j
clothes; a pea jacket and clajetrap j
cloth hat, with a peak lying level on
the forehead, gave me a feeling of
awe. The thought forced itself upon j
me that he was a garottcr. He spoke
first.
"You're Mr. Sam ?" and lie laid his
finger on his nose.
"You've guessed it," said I. thinking
it liest to agree with him, although my ,
name was Turn.
"Then come along!" and away we
went.
"Did Butler give ye e'er a pistol?'
he asked.
"No," said I, beginning to tremble.
"He said he wanted them himself."
"Just like him. He told I'd (Ind j
you standing at Moorgate street, be
tween 12 and 1, opposite the confec
tioner's, with yonr right hand in your
pocket."
"I'm in for it," thinks I, "but I must
go through with it. Hut whatever
will it come to at all, at all?"
He led me through a labyrinth of
streets, walking rather fast, till we
emerged upon the city road. Then
he made straight for the Angel, and
from thence took a cab for Fleet street.
What object he bad in doing this I
cannot say. He did not offer by ex
plain; in fact, not a word passed be
tween us till we got out at the top of
Ludgate hill.
From thence wo went into a back
street, and out of that into another,
no matter which, and suddenly stop
ping opposite a shop, ho exclaimed:
"That's our crib!"
"Is it?" says I.
Whereupon he produced from his
pocket a rule. The shop was evident
ly a tailor's, as it had bars standing
out like the rungs of a Jacob's ladder,
from each side of the door, to exhibit
stock upon. My friend stepped on the
first of these, which was three feet
from the ground, and sjiee.lily measured
the hight of a large glass fanlight over
the door; then, stepping down again,
he measured the breadth of the door,
and as the fanlight was square he mut
tered to mo byway of giving me its
dimensions:
"Three and a half by two high!" and
chuckled quietly.
Then he crossed the road, and I foL
lowed, ho explaining that we must
wait till the policeman passed. He
hove in sight about ten minutes after
wards, while we walked past him.
Then we waited till he returned. This
time we did not pass him, but watched
from a corner at a distance.
"Twenty minutes and a half between
going and coming," exclaimed my com
panion. "And a handy beat; for he
conies up the corner there"—pointing
to one a little beyond the shop—"and
goes down this street next ours."
The impression began to steal over
me that 1 was committing, or helping
to commit, a felony, and that if caught
I might get into trouble. 1 thought
of running for it; but the remark my
companion made at that moment, to
the effect that it would be a short run
if 1 deserted him (for he seemed to
see I didn't like the Job), deterred me.
I dared not explain that he had made
a mistake, for I felt sure that he must
have mistaken me for some ally of
his own. "I must go through with it,"
thinks I. "He'll leave me outside to
watch, and I'll hook it then?" .So 1
went on.
He crossed the street again the mo
ment the policeman was past interfer
ing with us, and producing a piece
of stout black cloth he applied the
rule thereto, I holding it against the
shutters, while lie set out "three and a
half by two" thereon. This done, be
cut it within two inches of the mea
surement all round, and then produc
ing a treacle-pot from his jssket, he
smothered one side of the cloth with
treacle, and, desiring ine to hold it, he
mounted the shop-door, so to speak
again; and I gave him the cloth, which
he immediately clap|>ed on to the sky
light, the treacle making it adhere
tlrmly to the gla-s. Then, looking at
his watch, he cried:
"llvj ngo' he'll be here this minute!''
and away we walked. A glance be
hind us, :ls we turned the next corner.
Not yet in sight! We stopped and
waited, but the policeman came not.
My friend muttered an oath, adding,
"I'll go. Come along; but keep your ■
weather-eye open'" And off we went.
"Perhaps he is watching us." I sug
gested. But the idea was discarded
as not in the nature of a jsdiceman
"like that one we saw."
We arrived at the shop. He mounted
again, and drove a string through a
hole in the cloth. Then he ran a dia
mond round the edge of the glass. A
gentle pat, and it gave way. Now I
saw the use of the cloth and string.
He could hold the glass by the string;
and he slowly let it down into the shop,
and, producing a long-shaped pad. he
laid it along the bottom of the fanlight
to cover the glass edge, and threw one
leg into the opening and got astride ..f
it!
"Follow me," he muttered, and
ducked his head under the door-head.
But before he could draw in the other
leg I mounted the ladder, and, seizing
it. gave him a pull that kept him from
going in, at the same time yelling,
"Police! Thieves! Murder! Police!" at
the top of my voice. And. lo and be
hold! the policeman appeared at the
corner at that moment. A horrible
oath from within, a pistol-bullet
whistling past my head, and I ran for
death and life. I did not stop till I
, found myself in Broad street.
In the next day's papers I saw the
account of the capture of a burglar by
one policeman, who had watched two
burglars from the corner, and saw one
I enter the house, and the other leap up
the wall like a rat, grab at a disappear
| ing leg, and yell "Police!" and run.
The one that was caught got seven
| years' penal servitude, and "the police
are searching vigilantly, though as yet
unsuccessfully, for the other, who, it
appears, is a desperate character!"
They never caught him.— Cat-wll.
Bachelor Life In Turkey.
Both state and church combine to
make the life of a Turkish bachelor
miserable. As long as his parents are
alive, he ran live with them without
much trouble. As soon as they die
he must get a permit from the civil
and religions authorities liefore he
can be admitted to any household.
Then the proprietor thereof, in the
interest of public morals, must see
to it that other persons than females
wait upon his Ixmrder. If the bach
elor be rich enough to occupy a house
or to rent unfurnished chambers, he
cannot iiossibly obtain that simple
privilege unless he shows that a
woman of good repute lives with him
therein. A mother or sister or aunt
removes that difficulty. But a man
without ktyidred may go an indefinite
period without n home.
nOXE MFK I!f I'AKIH.
PHilkrlllM of th® Pirliltnl.-lloK
I'ropla l.lff In Ih® Krsurli < apllal.
This picture of home life in I'nris is
given l>y n writer in the Demrator aiul
Finisher: Wherever one sees a yellow
bill upon the door of a Parisian house
ho may be tolurably certain of discover
ing within a neat apartment, well
furnished, iiaving at least a bod-room,
a parlor, a dining-room, a kitchen, and
usually an anto-room into which the
entrance door opens. The windows,
extending to the floor, are hung with
lace and stuff curtains; the doors have
portieres ujwn either side, rugs, as a
rule, take the place of carpets, the bed
is under the protection of a canopy,
even if it be no more than muslin, and
a heavy wardrobe, with a full length
mirror in the door, is often the point
do resistance in the room. A showy
silk down quilt is thrown over the bed,
and a bolster of huge proportions rests
at the head. The top of the mattress |
averages three or four feet from the
floor, and suggests the advantage of
step ladders and the utter discomfort |
of little people. The peculiarity, how
ever, of the French bed is its restful i
quality, for it is so whether it be found
in the Palace of the Klysee or a third
rate apartment house on Montmatre,
in the Hotel de I®'At hence, or the most
provincial of pensions.
The elasticity of prices in the rent
ing of apartments is wonderful. A
Frenchman pays s.'so a month for a
nicely furnished flat in the i'aliis
ltoyal, or, we will say, in the ncighlW- I
hood of Trinity church, taking the two
extremes of localities, and an Ameri- '
can tourist gladly pays f.V) for the
same accommodations. If the lesjwc
is fortunate and rents from a family
that may be going to Vichy for a few
months, ho possibly can arrange for
silverware, linen, and crockery, but if
this is denied him, he will find a most
agreeable company organized for the
very purpose of supplying the transient
resident with all the necessary appur- j
tenanecs of housekeeping, at a price
that allows one to display a magnifi
cence approaching royalty at the most j
economical outlay. A l<onne may be
had at |7 per month, <m* of those ,
smart French girls that d'X-s every- '
thing from cooking the meals to dr<-vs.
ing her mistress, and who insists uj>n ■
doing it. Seven dollars. Is- it under
sto<N|, is not starvation pay, it is muni
licence, and one may expect from such '
a girl all the e-thetic cooking of the
French repertoire -peas, not as we
have them in this country, yellow and
hard, but deliriously sweetened, tender
as cream. The bonne does all the
marketing, wrangles with the trades
p'-ople, and hands in her account every
day or week. Of course she has aj
Percentage from the stores, hut who
would begrudge that to get rid of the
intolerable nuisance of shopping?
A str<dl on the lioulevards, a visit to ,
the dardin d'Acelimation, a ride to the
Hois tie Boulogne, by the way of the
Champs F.lysee, all tie *<• are pleasures,
and combine with the attractive fur
nishings of the house to make one
forget the annoyances he is subjected
to and the crude and primitive domes
tic surroundings he is called upon to
endure. He is Induced to forget that
on his way home he may be run over
bv a vicious cab driver and then arrett
ed for being in the way of the hor-c #
for, of course, in Parisian streets
vehicles have the right of way.
The concierge is an important factor
in French life. If one fails to "come
down" with the proja-r amount of
sulwidy in the sha|e of "jxitir Inure"
1 the concierge, whose place is at the en
trance to his building, takes very good
care that his rlose-fist<sl tenant do-s
1 riot receive his mail, certainly until one
j day after its delivery at the door, and
his visitors are informed that he is "not
at home," when in truth lie is await
ing their coming in his rooms. Should
the tenant protest to the landlord, his
life will thereafter lie miserable, a suc
cession of ills ami terrors that will
finally drive him from the house, to
look for other apartments. Hut he is
; known to every concierge in the city,
and. despite the tlaming yellow poster
that announces from the outer wall
there Is an apartment to let. he meets
i everywhere the one reply, "There is
nothing here sir," and if, perforce, he
does get into the building the price is
placed at such a figure as to put it
beyond the reach of the tired and
discouraged searcher. After one ex
perience of this sort the traveler
either succumbs to the inevitable and
pays up like a man, or else, with what
i courage he lias left, lie goes off to
I Switzerland and freezes on Mount
Blanc, or to Rome and gets the fever.
Of course, where there are few
carpets the floors must be kept in good
condition, so a man comes every week
and waxes the boards, and skates
about on them with stiff brushes tied
to Ids feet.
A contented spirit is the sweetness
of existence.
PEARLS) OP 7HOIUHT.
JTo Is richly endowod who Is cheaply
divert ed.
The weak sinews become strong by
their conflict with difficulties.
Ho shall iio immortal who livetli till
lie bo stoned by one without fault.
To love Is to admire with tlio heart;
to admire is to love with the mind.
Fame cornea only when deserved,
and then it is as inevitable as destiny.
Unfriended indeed Is he who l as no
friend hold enough to point out his
faults.
Physical exercise and Intellectual
rest in due season should never be
neglected.
A solid and substantial greatness of
soul looks down with neglect on the
censures and applause of the multi
tude.
The primal duties snine aloft like
stars; the charities that soothe and heal
ami bless, are scattered at the feet of
men like flowers.
He is a good man, people say, thought
lessly. They would be more chary of
such praise if they reflected they could 1
bestow nope higher.
The path of duty lies in what is near,
and men seek for it in what is remote;
the work of duty lies in what is easy,
and men seek for it in what is difficult.
Is there one whom difficulties dis"
hearten who bends to the storm ? He
w ill do little. Is there one who w ill
conquer? That kind of man never
fails.
Oh, there Is nothing holler in this
life of ours than the first consciousness
of love—the first fluttering of its
silken wings—the first rising sound <
and breath of that wind which is so
soon to sweep through the soul to puri
fy or destroy.
A t'lty In Two Hemlphfres.
At Quito, South America, the only
city in the world on the line of the !
equator, the sun rises and sets at 6
o'clock the year round. Vour clock
may break down, your watch get
cranky, but the sun never makes a
mistake here, says a correspondent.
When it disappears from sight f>r the
night it is 6 o'clock and you ran set
vour watch accordingly. In one part
of the city it is tS" summer season and
in the other part it is winter. The
present dwellings in Quito in architec
ture have degenerated and fallen far
short of that old, gigantic race of In
dians, who. with the In '-as, of I'ertl,
joined their city with massive and
grandly constructed highways. There
still exists va< ant remains of colossal
buildings on this roadway of palace*
and fortresses with w.ills so finely cut
and closely joined together that be
tween these massive stone blocks there
is not space sufficient to insert the edge
of the thinm-st paper. In one royal
palace of the In' a*, gold or silxcr was
used for th<- cement. If the journey is
long and difficult to reach this old
Spanish town, there is much to eom
pensato one's trouble in its interesting
structure. It is pi,'*" feet atiove the
sea and contains some buildings.
I am almost afraid to say how old is
this ancient city, for it dates far bark
in the dark agw when the "memory of
man goeth not to the contrary."
When you realize that everything of
modern invention found here has Ixen
brought a six days' journey, through
difficult mountain passes, on mules'
barks, then you understand how highly
luxuries are appreciated. In this way
all the supplies from the outer world
and all their exports are carried.
There are in Quito scores of beautiful
pianos brought by ships to Guayaquil
that have been carried on Indians'
backs this long distance of 300 miles,
up through the mountain passes 10,.
0* feet above the sea to their rich
owners in the city.
I.eathrrohl.
Leatherold is a new article which is
being made of paper. It consists of a
1 number of thicknesses of cotton paper
wound one upon another over a cylin
der. The remarkable qualities of
strength and adhesion it possesses are
derives! from a chemical bath through
which the paper is drawn on its way to
the cylinder. The effect of the chem
ical bath on the paper is said to be
wonderful Leatherold, for the pur
poses It now serves, consists of about
twenty thicknesses of paper; it is
shaped upon or around molds, while
wet, into the form it is to represent,
ami will hold that form perpetually
when dry. When dried it is as difficult
as rawhide to cut with a knife. Cans
made from this notorial are alwut one
fourth the weight of tin cans of equal
j sire ; while tin cans are liable to get
bent, cans made from leatlieroid are
entirely free from this objection. Thev
have the elasticity of thin steel, and no
amount of kicking and handling will
break them.— Host on Journal qf Chem
istry.^
Llfs aad Death la Bfatnre*
For some inscrutable reason, which
she has as yet given no hint of reveal
ing. nature is wondroiiHly wasteful in
the matter of generation. Khe creates
a thousand where she intends to make
use of one. Impelled by maternal In*
stinct, the female coil casts millions of
eggs upon the waters, expecting them
to return after many days as troops of
Interesting offspring. Instead, half the
embryotlc gadi are almost immediately
devoured by spawn eaters, hundreds of
thousands perish In incubation, hun
dreds of thousands more succumb to
the jK-rlls of attending lchthylc infan
cy, leaving but a few score to attain '
to adult usefulness, and pass an honor- j
<sl old age, with the fragrance of a !
well-spent life, in a country grocery.
The oak showers down ten thousand (
acorns, each capable of producing a
tree. Three-fourths of them are
straightway diverted from their arbor
eal intent, through conversion into
food by the provident squirrel and the
Improvident hog. Great numbers rot
uselesslessly upon the ground, and the
fi w hundreds that finally succeed in
gi rmmating grow up in a dense thick
et, whereat last the strongest smoth.
ers out all the rest, like an oaken Oth
ello in a harem of quercine Desdctno*
nas.
This is the law of all life, animal as
well as vegetable. From the humble
hyssop on the wall to the towering ce
dar of Lebanon—from the meek and
lowly amu-ha, which has no more char
acter or individuality than any other
pin jxiint of jelly -to the lordly tyrant,
man, the rule is inevitable and invaria
ble. Life is sown broadcast, only to be
followed almost immediately by a de
struction nearly as sweeping. Nature
creates by the million, apparently that
she may destroy by the myriad. Hie
giw-i life on" instant, only that she
may snatch it away the next. The
main difference is that, the higher we
ascend, the less lavish the creation, and
the less sweeping the destruction.
Thus, while probably one fish in a
thousand reaches maturity, of every
ItMJ children b"rri 604 attain adult
age. That Is, nature flings aside 999
out of every It*" lislu-s as uwle-s for
her purjHisi-s, and two out of every
live human beings. Popular ,S rtenee
Monthly.
Grain and Meat In Europe,
In a pajwr on agricultural statistics
real liefore the British association, W.
Both* gave some interesting facts con
, corning the f..<l supply of Great
Britain and the continent, as follows:
"At present the fond supply produced
in Europe i* equal to al>ut eleven
months' conxuinpti >n. but in a few
years the deficit w 11 IK- sixty instead
of thirty days. The present production
and consumption ar<: Grain c-insumj
tion in the l"nit-d Kingdom, 607,<**V
I" bushels ; continent, 4,791,<*0.f**;
total, .%.I'd",<*" bushels. Produc
tion of the United Kingdom, TiJ.'s",-
ji "0 bushels ; continent, 4.736,<* *l.OOO
bushels; total, Meat
consumption in tb<- United Kingdom,
! 1,740,n0n tons; continent. 6.372,(**>
t tons; total 7.319/* tons. It appears
that the hulk of the deficit lielongs t >
! Gnat Britain ; but as the continent Is
unable to feod its own population, we
must in future look to some other hem
isphere for the needful supply, rather
than to the supposed surplus of Bussia
! Hungary, Holland or Denmark.
Europe paid last year £35/"*>,<**• for
I foreign meats and £85,000,000 for
j grain, a sum equivalent to a tax of
J £10,000,09 M jier month. In the United
Kingdom the importation of meat,
including cattle, has risen as
, follows: 1860, 91.2.10 tons, value.
I £4,1190,000, per inhabitant, 7 pounds;
1870, 144,225 tons, value, £7,708.000,
l>er inhabitant, 10 pounds; 1880, 650,-
. :O0 tons, value, A' 26,612,000, or 40
|M>unds for each inhabitant,
A Carton* Taste.
The Malagasy tate for tomlebuild
ing was another frequent cause of
, delay. Among the Ho van. the hading
triln-s of Madagascar, large sums are
spent on their tombs, which are a kind
of vault, made of immense slabs of un
dressed blue basal! rock. A man will
live in a house which has not cost
more than from ten to twenty dollars,
but ho will cheerfully expend two
hundred or three hundred dollars upon
his tomb. A a soon as a young man
marries and settles in life he liegins
preparations for building his family
vault; and all of his spare time - and
most of his spare money—are spent
upon tliis work. The luwalt slabs are
often brought for two or three miles
distance, dragged by hurdreds of peo
ple, all the family connections goingto
assist. Although the portions
ground in these toinlw arc of
stone, above ground a massive,
often elalHirate, structure of drcstfli
stone is erected, with bold moldings,
and sometimes with a good deal jpf
carving.— -London (jnivcr. J
THE FAULT DOCTOR.
atln* u • Car* for HbnmiUi*.
I>r. Tanner's heresy may yet becoms
the creed of regular practice. Tanner
claimed that fasting was a good
hygienic cure fur many forms of Wood
disease, arid now Dr. Wood, of the
medical department of Bishop's college>
Montreal, reports fasting as a cure for
acute rheumatism. J'lenty of water or
lemonade was allowed but no medi
cines were given, and from the good
results obtained in fasting from four
to ten days J)r. Wood is inclined to
believe that rheumatism is only a phase
of Indigestion.—Dr. F'XJWB Health
Monthly.
Hemolr for Krratprlaa
At the recent congress of German
surgeons, Ir. Fisher, of Strasburg,
drew attention to the valueof naphtha
line as an antiseptic. For some skin
diseases, and especially in the treat
ment of erysipelas, it is almost specific
The application is made in the most
simple manner possible by
rubbing gauze in the powdered mate
rial, or dipping any suitable fabric in
an ctheriel solution diluted with alco
hol. Naphthaline being very cheap,
this preparation will lw less expensive
than anything of the kind now in the
market. It is extensively used in
Strasburg, where it is regarded as a
perfect preventive of erysije-las; and it
is hoped that if this valuable property
can be substantiated, it will Is? used
for the same purpose in this country.
Dr. Fisher does not state whether its
use jn the manner stated is attended
with any inconvenience or pain to the
patient; but persons employed in gas
works and elsewhere who have suffer
ed from seales "f naphthaline entering
the eyes, etc., would be disposed to
regard the remedy with very consider
able suspicion.
-lUd Teeth And lilirtir,
Had we the means we should endow
a charity the great aim of which should
)• to prevent disease by establishing
an institution for the treatment of
decayed and imperfect teeth. There
are more cases of disease of various
kinds and various degrees of severity
emanating from l ad teeth than fr<.rn
almost any other cause. The trouble
is easily remedied if taken in time;
but those who suffer most are they
who have not the means to employ
conij>etent dentists. It is pitiful to
see the children of the poor as they
grow up. gradually losing their teeth
bv decay and neglect and lecorning
dyspeptic at twenty and old and
haggard at thirty. If there is a nobler
charity than that which would supply
free dentistry to the j sir, and dentist
ry at cost to those who are able to pay
no more, we know not what it is. But
there are persons of ample means who
pay no attention to their own teeth or
those of their children. They should
l>e taught the imjs.rtance of attending
to this matter, and, if they th n refused,
they should be punished for the neglect
of an important duty toward their
families. There is no exruse for any
person having bad teeth. A child ran
l>e taught the importance of attending
to the teeth, and every child that has
his second front teeth should be pro
vided with a tooth-brush and be re
quired to use it at least once everyday,
using castile soap. Once in six months
at furthest.a dentist should IK- employ
ed to examine the teeth and properly
fill any that may lie decayed. Were
this'p'un generally adopted we should
see no more toothless men and women
— HalTs Journal of Health.
Overtaxing the Brnin.
In a recent lecture on "Brain
Health." at Edinburgh, Dr. J. Batty
,Tuke said that, as a matter of fact, it
w as not an easy thing to overtask the
energies of the brain by work. It was
not work, but worry, that killed the
brain. But break down from over
strain did occasionally take place, and
the first really important symptom
was sleeplesness; when that set in
there was cause for alarm. Loss of
sleep was brought al>out thus; When
the brain was Vicing actively exercised,
there was an increase of blood in its
vessels--this was spoken of as
"functional hyperemia" If they con
tinued the exercise of the brain power
too long, there was a tendency of Vbe
j blood to remain in too great quantity t
! from the cells lieroming exhausted and
not being able to control the vessels.
! In sleep the amount of blood was
diminished, and sleep could not be
procured if this functional hyperemia
! persisted. In the absence of sleep, the
I cells could not recover themselves, and
! their activity became impaired.
Headache, lost of appetite, and general
j bat)i --emess followed. As soon as a
or young person Uevelopes con.
■koua headache, work should be dls-
Hmtinued at once.
I Forty years ago a man worth |tV\ooo
was accounted wealthy, now he must
* have his millions to be so regardod.