Pittsburg dispatch. (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, February 17, 1889, SECOND PART, Page 10, Image 10

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True, it was empty, as lie had guessed.
True, it was a pontoon boat, built of hide
stretched tiehtly oer a frame. Hut such a
sight there in the blackness of night by the
three graves no man ever saw before.
It was the great, white Spanish bull;
and looking him richt in the face across the
narrow rim of nodding lilies.
The eyes were brilliant little lamps
trimmed and burning so brightly that the
whole little heart of the corpse was lighted
like a festal hall.
The wide and splendid horns were per
fectly in place. The mighty neck had lost
none of its noble strength and audacity.
The widened nostrils were in the air. The
ears were alert. Battle and blood were in
every fold of the sweeping brisket.
It was a wonderful work ot art that the
strange girl had anchored here in the
breathing well by the neatly kept graves.
The skin had been opened at the back, the
lees drawn up and fastened from within.
The noble brute rode the waters on his
breast as bravely as when the adventuress
Europa bestrode her milk-white bull tar
back beyond the dawn of history and swam
the Hellespont.
There were no oars or place for oars. A
paddle may have been hidden within; but
it w?s perilous making inquiry here, and
the artist was too much lost in admiration
for this beautiful piece of work to be rudely
curious.
He noted, however, that great cords hung
loose and abundant about the narrow open
ing like that in an Indian fisherman's
canoe, as if the boat might be almost en
tirely closed. Broad flaps of sealskin hang
ing down the sides from the opening gave
proot of this.
Clearlv the boat was anchored there in
gome adroit wav: just how or where could
not be seen. But the cunning hand and
singular strength of bodyand mind that had
fashioned this most curious boat cut out of
a bull's hide and the little bay boughs
could not long be at a loss for means of an
chorage. This bay tree here, growing in long, slim
little branches all over this part of the land
as a sort of irieze or border on the banks of
redwood croves is the old Greek bay. This
graceful and evergreen tree, 6nicy and frag
rant, is the sacred laurel of old which even
the lightning respected. It is the same
fibrous tough, pliable and sinuous bongh,
becoming hard as steel when dried, that
bore the laurel wreaths for which the com
petitors at the Olympic games struggled as
the sole reward of their powers for so many
centnries.
Surely pedigree, story, history, charac
ter, is worth something, even in a tree. .
Whether the girl came daily to trim her
lamps and her graves the man conld not
guess, but certain it was now that he had
learned so much that he was sorry for his
intrusion; halt ashamed and carious to
know how he should look her in the face
the next day and contrive to keep the truth
from her.
The debate did not last long. Far back
in life he had been assured hv one
who had a right to say that th simple truth
is best; the plain clean truth first and all
the time. He would tell her all , conceal
ing only the name of Sanello, and take the
consequence-ot his audacity and her dis
pleasure. "While he resolved thus the great proud
neck rose and bobbed on the besom ot the
breathing waters and the savage head
tossed in his face even above the top of the
topmost lilies. The waters boiled and
bubbled over the river and flowed at his
feet.
Then suddenly they began to recede; and
down, down, down! The lights drew down
and the man stood alone in the darkness.
CHAPTER X.
rABLA'S SIGHT 02T LION'S head.
Farla was very angry; angry at she
scarcely knew what. She could not say
that she was angry at what her innocent and
simple-hearted little sister Sanello had said
or done. She was surely not angry at any
thing that Mr. Gray had said or done. She
was simply angry; perhaps at herself,
Fate.
She had looked forward eagirly to this
day when she should be with him, sail the
boat that bore him on and on through the
stiaits, on and on through the Golden Gate,
on and on to the stormy islands of stone,
with their roaring sea lions and their clouds
of countless sea birds. She had expected
so much of this day; and what had she had
of it? She surely had not expected aught
of John Gray except his ever serene lor
bearance and equipoise of manner. She had
long learned that this silent and absorbed
man had never been a boy and was some
thing more than man; at least something
more than the brute-man. It was indeed
this gentle element in his nature, this un
selfishness and serenity and entire respect
for her that had suddenly, and for the first
time in her Hie, touched her heart. Hard
as her liie may have been, stormy as her
oyage may haye been at times, she still
loved gentleness. It found response in her
heart Tor all very strong souls are also
very gentle.
Had anyone asked her, had she asked her
self why she so wiliully and suddenly de
clined to return with the party, but pre
ferred remaining, as she often had done be
fore, indeed, with her people on the islands,
she would have been at a loss for an answer.
Surely she wanted to be with Mr. Gray; ah,
she even now, and in truth all the time,
wanted to be with him. Yet had she thrown
all this sunlit alternoon of glory into the
sea! Such is the incomprehensible contra
diction of woman.
Climbing higher and higher np the steep
and stupeudous wall ot scarred and lightning-men
granite and conglomerate and
lava, she found new and almost incalcula
ble deposits of eggs. She startled storms of
sea birds that had never yet been interrupted
there in their cloud-built crags.
This pleased her. This was conquest!
She would not only have something new to
tell; this discovery would add to her father's
meager revenues.
Highei and higher she hastened to climb
till at last she stood -u ith flowing hair
lined out against the gold of the sunset, the
silhouette which her startled father saw the
time Le turned about to look back from his
boat as they sailed in through the Golden
Gate.
The girl remained fixed to this spot,
watching the fading away of the yellow
sail a long time. The task of reaching this
almost inaccessible point wheie she now
stood had been considerable; as exhausting
as perilous, and she felt that she needed rest
belore attempting to retnrn.
At last night moved down in all his
somber majesty from his camps in the can
yons under the cedars and firs and redwoods
of the Sierras and swiftly as the flight of a
bird possessed the sea walls and the sea.
The Golden Gate was barred by bolts of
darkness; and the white roads across the
waters ot the ocean of oceans that ended
here by this sea bank were obliterated lor
the night.
-Taking firmly hold of the rocks, setting
her certain leet securely in the narrow
niche below, the cirl began to slowly
descend. But the light lay on the other
side of the island now. Darkness or at
least confusion of light lay on the side
where she stood, or rather clung, and Farla
drew herself up by the hands to the same
spot where she had rested a moment before.
She began to think seriously if it were
really safe to descend by this" precipitous
way. '
She gathered some eggs that lay in a
feathery nest by her right hand dropped
them one alter another down the steep wall
by which she had climbed.
It startled her to see how nearly perpen
dicular she in her sudden flush of pique
and displeasure had ascended. Her heart
beat so loudly that she ceased tossing the
eggs down the precipice and laid her hand
to her bosom.
The sou silver moon came to her in this
lofty isolation and kept pleasant company
for a little time and then settled slowly on
down in the path of 'the exhausted sun.
And how lone now!
The shadows that came crowdinc up from
the sea far down below seemed never so
black as now. The girl's heart had ceased
to beat so terribly now at the idea of spend
ing the night alone on the shelving crags,
but for all that she was sadly frightened.
It may be safely said that now, for the first
time in her life, fear r-ally came upon her
It was not the danger, bhe had known
dancer both by sea and land from inlancy.
But it was her helplessness that appalled
her; the inability to really move either
hand or foot. She was literally chained to
the rock.
Fortunately the night was warm, even to
sultriness; but she 'knew that the small
hours of morning would bring down a cold
blast from the ice floes of Alaska.
Fixing her foot secmely in the rough and
porous surface of the land where she stood
she turned her back on the world and laid,
or rather leaned, her face to the mighty
wall. Then with great care and caution she
drew herself np to a more secure and less
precipitous side of the singular prison and
prepared to spend the light as best she
could.
The place was so filled with sea birds'
eggs that little or no room was left her
here. And so nest after nest, as far as she
could reach, was emptied by starting the
eggs rolling down the steep.
Then, making certain ot her footing she
put out her arms and drew all the feathers,
as far as she could reach, under her re
clining body and thus soon found herselt
far from uncomfortable. Still there was
the dread of slipping down while asleep.
The downy but slippery bed of feathers
did not at all add to her sense of security.
Fortunate! v she had a stout cord at her
girdle. This stout silken cord .she had
Ions: worn in order to make more secure in
its concealment the knife which she always
carried.
Do not be alarmed at mention of this
knife. It is no rarity. Besides, this girl's
work at building her curious boat, the con
tinual climhing of crags, both in the sea and
on the land, all her lite and action, indeed,
made a stout, sharp knife as necessary to
her as is a needle to an ordinary woman.
Taking her knife in the left hand, she felt
about with her right as she lay, or rather
leaned, there till she found a crevice or
crack in the 'rocks into which she could
fasten the knife. Gradually and securely
driving it down in this crack to the hilt,
she proceeded to fasten one end of the heavy
silken cord to the knife and -the other to her
left arm. Then she prayed a piteous praver
with clasped bands and forehead humbled
to the rocks. Her heart was very gentle
now. -If ever before was her better, gentler
self so entirely to the surface. She was sorry
for the folly of that day, and of all days.
Not for herself; she was sorry for the pain of
others. She prayed for her sister; for her
great, rugged father. She prayed first for
all that was near and dear to her. And
last ot all the poor, penitent and desolate
girl with such a contradiction of nature
praved for herself. And then she slept.
The cold winds of early morning awak
ened her. She had slept soundly; but her
limbs were stiff and her hands and feet
numb. She put the cord again about her
body, making her short dress still shorter.
Then she took the knife in her left hand.
After taking one look at the dizzy depths
below, and making certain that she could
never descend in that way and live, be
numbed as she now was, she slowly began
to ascend.
Bear in. mind this island had been her
rocking cradle. She knew it so well. It
had no terrors for her at all under ordinary
circumstances. Like the lion tamer in the
cage with the lion he has known so long
and well she even now, rested and renewed
as she was, with a full day before her, felt no
more dread.
As said before, she knew every foot of the
ground, or crevice of the rock, whether ac-
cessiuie or inaecessiuie.
She knew that there teas somewhere a cir
cuit to this continual ascent: that there was
a summit to this caag in the sea somewhere
and she would reach it and descend by the
other side.
This one particular rock is curious. It
looks like a sea lion. It rests there, half
lilted from the water, like a huge sea lion
looking away out toward the Orient seat.
Its head overhangs (he ocean. Its nose is
high, fearfully high in the air. Ships at
high tide could, were it not for the fallen
rocks there, that keep the fretful waters
churned to a foam, ships I say, were it not
for the fallen rocks that thrust up through
the waters here and are made black with
roarine sea lions and white with roaring
seas, could almost sail under this huge stone
nose that is lifted bold and bare more than
"00 feet above the waters; above the 10,000
trembling, groaning, moaning, and contin
ually roaring sea lions on their jutting
crags and the hungry all-devonring ocean.
Farla found her journey slow from the
beginning. Ofter she would have to stop
and roll aside and down the steep hundreds
and hundreds of eggs. They were a dan
gerous footing where life depended so en
tirely on the certainty of her foothold.
After an hour of arduous work she came
to what seemed to ber to be the last steep
ascent before the summit. But this seemed
utterly inaccessible. Here was at last a
place to rest, however, and rolling the eggs
aside, she threw herself on her face full
length, threw out her long, strong limbs
full length and rested really rested" for the
first time. And this time her prayer was a
prayer of gratitude.
Lifting her face to begin the work before
her she instinctively turned her eyes to the
waters below It was alive with boats.
And such a shout went up from the thou
sands of people far, far below on the decks
of the various craft!
All night she had been missed. All
night men had searched about the entire ac
cessible portions ot the rock. For the girl
was well known; was notoniy widely known
but well known, and she was universally
respected, if not entirely loved.
They had only this moment discovered
her. But when the shout died away and
the men looked and looked again, they grew
white with pity and with dismay.
Some of the boats drew in close to the
island, as if to try and reach her; others
stood lurther out to sea, as if to survey the
possible chances of her escape; other boats
drew on around the island, as if to see what
hope lay on the other side.
The cirl's heart swelled with gratitude.
And yet she was greatly vexed with herself
that she should have been the cause of so
much care. This made her very resolved to
have done with the whole sad business; and
tying her girdle she laid hold of the crag
before her and besan steadily to ascend.
She had more confidence now; and more
strength, also. Ten feet! twentv feet! The
knife was in her teeth! She had kicked off
both her shoes. Her fingers were streaming
with blood. Thirty feet! Forty feet!
One foot swings loose and the body swaysl
The left arm hawrs loose as if deadl One
last superhuman effort and the right arm is
about a sharp jutting and a rugged bit of
rock that hangs Irom the rim of the summit
and she drew herself up by the knees, by
the neck!
And oh, such a shout from the waters be
low! The bleeding, trembling girl stands
erect on the loftiest summit of the Lion's
Head.
Eagerly now she walks around the narrow
little space for the place by which to de
scend. Toward the city and the shore? It
is 50 feet or more of sheer precipice. She
hastens with a sinking heart to the side of
the head looking southward. Precipice!
Nothing but precipice!
She sat down and folded her bleeding fin
gers up under her naked arms. Her black
and glistening abundant hair was about her
breast and shoulders. But her dress had
been torn to pieces andhung in shreds about
her body.
The fleet of boats, increasing in numbers
every moment, for the story ot the beautiful
girl's peril had spread like fire over the city
of San Francisco, now gathered under the
Lion's Head; and every face there lifted to
Farla. And every heart there that knew
how to pray prayed one continual prayer for
her deliverance.
The roar of the lions and the sea made it
impossible that she conld either hear or be
heard. Ko one spoke. No one made signs
what to do. All felt so utterly helpless
that no one dared to advise by sign or by
utterance of anv sort.
CHAPTER XL
A STRAND OF LIFE OB DEATH.
Once more the girl arose and walked
about her narrow home in the air. This
time she walked fast and resolute.-Ju if it
had entered her mind to end the tragedy in
one way or another at once.
Perhaps she thought of her father'-a com
ingand determined Jo have dose with the
. -THE-
dreadfnl situation before he came to suffer
from the contemplation of her awful' posi
tion. She made the round of observation and
threw tip her arms is despair as she came
back to where she had sat with folded
hands. But this time she did not sit down
in that same spot. She walked far out on
the Lion's Head; far out I So far that .her
foot lav half way over the perpendicular
ledge and 10,000 people caught their breath
in the boats below. ,
Here she sat down, undid the cord about
her bodv, tied it tightly about a sharp little
uplifted" point of rock; tied it tight and tried
it by pulling hard and strong.
And then her hands began to "work and
to weave as if they" had been a spider's
hands. Her strong, heavy dres, already in
shreds above the "kh'ee, was shrcded and
twisted into cord almost before the people
below realized her desperate .resolution.
But when they did discover her purpose a
moment later, what a shout of cheer, of
hope, of heart! ,
And now she lifted her knife to the glo
rious stream of blaok hair.
She wove her hair into her costly, rich
ladder with such dexterity and speed that
in a little time her shapely head was en
tirely shorn. ""
Garment aftergarment disappeared. The
last garment, the last shred was gone.
The girl arose, and stood there a moment
as God had made her.
Her long, thin cord was coiled in her right
hand. And there was but one thought, and
prayer among men. Was it strong? ana was
it long? Would'the rope reach the troubled
foamy waters and the sea lions below? Had
her fingers been adroit and cunning at their
work, and would the rope endure her
weight?
Ships of war of all nations sent their best
boats and crews to see if by some good for
tune they might be of possible service to the
brave girl. Gallant Stuart Tnvlor, the
naval officer of the port of San Francisco,
was there. In brief, all San Francisco was
there, at least in heart and desire to help.
Tall as an Indian, straight as an arrow,
the girl stood for a second above the tremb
ling sea and roaring sea lions and foam
white rocks, and seemed at last to hesitate
in her desperate purpose. Suddenly, as if
her heart had impelled her, she turned her
head away toward the sombre summits of
Bed wood Park and Mount Diablo. She
shaded her eyes with her lifted hand and
looked long and earnestly.
What was she thinking of now. Her
days of happy childhood? The family
group gathered about the door waiting her
retnrn? Her strong, silent, daring and
enduring father, so much like herself?
What could have been her thoughts?
Then alter a time her eyes fell downward
a little and lingered about the Golden Gate.
She started suddenly and clutched once
more in her right hand the lonsr, coiled cord.
What could have startled her and nerved
her so suddenly to her desperate task?
There was a little sail plunging down
from out the Golden Gate at all speed; as
if the huge man at the helm hall guessed
that this gathering of ships was a signal of
trouble to him or his.
No; she would not let him suffer; not
while she lived. She would end- it all now
and at once.
Tightening, testing the cord once more
and lor the last time taking care that no
sharp rock should come in contact with its
precious thn ads and fibers she grasped it
tightly in both hands and hastily let herself
down over the beetling ledge.
Would it hold her? . Land her safely in
the surf and surge below? Was it long
enough and was it surely strong enough?
Boats started forward; a thousand stout
hearted men stood to their oars. Every prow
was turned pointing to the Lion's Head
ready to leap forward to the rescue.
Down! down! down! Every man held his
breath! Down! down! down! Forty feet!
Fifty! One hundred! One hundred and
fifty feet! Only CO feet more and the foamv,
troubled rocks and the sea lions below will
rective her!
But what is the matter? Why pause there
suspended in the air by that thin and in
visible coril? An empty hand reaches out
helplessly in the air in sign that all is over.
The rope is exhausted. Men stand as if
stunned and struck dumb.
The girl makes the sign of the cross and
men that never prayed before are praying
now. Those that would djsdain to pray for
their own lives are praying for this poor
girl. Tears are in every eye and in every
utterance.
Her both hands now clutch close and hard
to the cord, as if she dreads to die.
Her bosom heaves heavily; her feet
are locked close together. Oh if the
water was but water beneath her, instead of
stone and foam and roaring old lions of the
sea!
Oh, but to be nble to drop down into the
sea 20, 30 feet out fioni the base of the prec
ipice! Suddenly it seems as if the tall, slim form
hanging so helpless up there in the air be
gins to move, to swav, to swing; first a lit
tle, as if the sea winds had come up, wonder
ing, from the sea and had begun to buffet
her about.
Bnt no! It is not the blustering and in
substantial wind that is slowly moving her
to and fro! to and fro! to and fro! from wall
to sea.
Her long, lithe limbs are alive, sinuous,
eloquent with action!
To and fro! to and fro! Faster! faster!
Ten feet out toward the open sea! Fifteen!
Twenty! Thirtv! And away! like a beauti
ful rainbow falling out of heaven from its
own splendor, the graceful and audacious
girlj with a divine audacity, leaves the rope
behind her, and, as if coming down to us
on the aims of a rainbow, darts feet first
into the open sea where a yellow sail with
the swiftest keel and the stoutest heart in
all the land or on all the seas is waiting to
receive her.
There was a deathly silence for long; so
long it seemed. But when at last a giant
form leaned and gathered a slim and ex
hausted form from the folds of the sea and
wrapped his daughter round with love and
embraces as with a mantle; such shout!
The great ships thundered their satisfaction;
and told the anxious city that the girl was
safe at last in ber father's arms.
CONCLUDED NEST SUNDAY.
Copyright, 18S9, bv Joaqnin Miller.
A Boon Companion.
Strange Guest(athotel table) Ladies an'
gents, I ain't been very sociable, because I
ain't no talker; bat notwithstandin' I ain't
got my sportin' clothes on, p'r'aps I can en
tertain you a bit. ,
(And he emphatically bcgan'..PucS.
FOR II RAIN FAQ
Vie nirford' Acid Plionphate.
Dr. W. H. Fisher, Le Sueur, 31lntL,.says: "I
find It very serviceable in nervous debility,
sexual weakness, brain fag, excessive nse.ot
tobacco, a. a drink in fevers, and In some
urinary troubles. It is a grand good remedy in
all cases where 1 have used it."
311
PITTSBURG - DISPATCH;
r
H0WT0 GROW STRONG
The
Absurdity of the Diet Often
Prescribed for Athletes.
GETTING FAT ON RDM AND MILK.
(
How-Prince Bismarck Reduced His Ponder
ous Weight.
SCHEMES ADOPTED BY EMINENT MEN.
rWEiniX TOB THE DISPATCH.
HEN a man has
reached that stage in
life -where he begins
to take care of his
health he usually has
a large and diverting
assortment of ailments
to fondle and care for.
Every time I pick up
a newspaper or review
.-
now I run across an
article of more or less interest on the sub
ject of health. It is supposed by newspa
per managers and the editors of the big
monthly publications to be the most inter
esting subject to the public except the never
ending controversy on the various ramifica
tions and relations of man and wife. As
everybody is writing about health, how to
get fat, hdw to get lean, how to increase
bodily vigor, and so on, I propose to have a
go at it myself.
My experience in athletics has been'toler
ably l&rge. Beside personal efforts in that
direction, I have watched the athletes of
various countries with a good deal of inter
est. I have come to the conclusion, as far as
heath is concerned, that every man must of
necessity be his own judge. For instance, I
have known two men to start in to train on
exactly similar lines, but with thoroughly
opposite results.
A FAILURE.
I think the most amusing thing of the
sort that I ever knew was the experience of
Colonel John McCauIl. Some years ago he
decided that he was growing too stout. He
weighed 260 or 270 pounds, his activity be
came a thing of the past and the girth of his
waist grew visibly. He went up to the
New York Athletic Club and put himselr
in the hands of the trainer. The trainer
looded at Colonel McCaull with grave mis
givings and announced that he would begin
by taking ten pounds a week off of him.
Then he enveloped -the portly form of the
Colonel in heavy flannel clothes, pulled a
series of thick "sweaters" over his rotund
body, bound a handkerchief around his
neck, and led him on a run around the
suspended track of the gymnasium. The
run terminated at about the end of 30 pace",
when the Colonel sat down and breathed
hard, but he was a man of perseverance and
he clung to it After he had made the cir
cuit three or lour times he went down to the
third floor of the gymnasium, lifted dumb
bells, swung Indian clubs, took a cold
plunge, was rubbed down and walked back
to his residence. That night he ate a dinner
that startled the entire household. The fol
lowing day he went through the same per
formance, except that he ran half a mile
more, and at the end of the week he mounted
the scales with a glowing face and a heart
full of hope. He had gained exactly eight
and a half pounds. The trainer was mute
for a time, and then came to the conclusion
that the Colonel had not taken enough exer
cise. The result was that the next week he
pounded around the place with a vehemence
that startled the neighbors, was pummeled
and rubbed by professional massage opera
tors, lived on a fighting man's diet and fin
ished the week 11 pounds heavier than he
had begun. Thereupon he definitely aban
doned the system of training which is of
world-wide repute. Throughout all this tur
mnltuous and violent exercise the Colonel
did not touch a vegetable because vegetables
are supposed to increase the weight. That
is a recognized rule among trainers.
A VEGETABLE DIET.
A short time ago Colonel McCaull fell ill
in Chicago. He came to New York, put
himself under a physician's care and was
told that he must reduce his weight. He
smiled, for be had talked about it a thou
sand times without success. The physician
told him to go off and eat nothing but veg
etables. The Colonel did so. and the result
is that he has lost about 30 pounds in the
course of six weeks. I have never seen him
looking better than he is now. I give this
illustration to show that rules in training
are bosh.
Let me give another. About three years
ago Mr. Ariel N. Barney weighed" 117
pounds. He was then subject to hemor
rhages, was as thin as a rail, but more than
that he had the pallid skin and leaden eye
of a man who is in ill health. His thinness
amounted almost to emaciation. Mr. Bar
ney had a long siege of illness, in which
hemorrhages were frequent, and his life was
at one time despaired of. He seemed to
have no vitality at all. He was talking to
an old doctor in a country town in the West
one day when he received a prescription
which not only saved his life, but built
him up into a specimen of stal
wart, sturdy and powerful man
hood. He is to-day a well-known figure in
New York, and a man of practically tireless
stiength. The country doctor with whom
Mr. Barney ta.ked said that after a good
deal of investigation he had come to the
conclusion that milk and rum were two of
the most nutritious liquids known. He be
lieved in an abundance of both of them, and
held stoutly to the opinion that if a man
drank enough rum and milk it would make
him stout and hearty. There was a long
argument on the subject, and finally Mr.
Barney became convinced, and he began to
drink rum and milk within an hour. The
milk was not pleasant to his taste at first,
nor is it, he tells me, to this day a gratclul
drink by any means, but he stuck to it like
a major. Whenever he was near a barroom,
in a restaurant, or even in a private house,
he asked for milk wheneverthe opportunity
occurred. He began by drinking six glasses
a day, and made it a point to increase the
number and keep a record in his diary of
the number of glasses that he swallowed.
He is a man of a good deal of populaiitv,
and he accepted every invitatiou to drink
with alacrity.
RUM AND MILK.
He poured about a sixteenth of an inch
of mm in the bottom of the glass, filltd it
up with milk, and noured it resolutelv
down. Eighteen glasses a day of milk, in
cluding what he drunk in the morning and
at night beiore retiring, formed the average
for the third month alter he had began the
system. It went on for six solid months and
he had not gained a pound. Further than
this he discovered no good effects ot the
milk, but he stuck to it with invincible de
termination, and the seventh month began
to feel that his clothes were growing tight
for him, and then he built up in every possi
ble direction at a rate that surprised his
friend. It went on so fast that it was neces
sary for him to get an entire new outfit of
clothes every five or six months, and after
he added 50 pounds to his weight his delight
at the change cave wav to alarm. He went
to Dr, Robertson, of New York, to, see
whether the flesh was of the good, solid'and
healthy order. The doctor poked, punched,
pinched and otherwise examined him,
and then gave him the highly sensible
advice to test the solidity ot his newly
acquired avoirdupois by lots of exercise.
Mr. Barney began by rising every morning
at 6 o'clock and running a short distance
along the side of Central Park. By degrees
be extended his runs and walks to two or
three miles, and finally he was able to make
the circuitof the park and back to his house
a distance of eight miles in less than
two honrs with case. Of course he had a
constant fear of another hemorrhage and was
tormented with a thousand other fancies
about the solidity of his sudden acquisition
of flesh, but he grew harder, firmer and
stronger every day, and lie clang per
Mm
YTVf f B.H nMl""!
SUNDAY,-' FEBRUARY
tinaciously to milk. He does yet with the
most gratifying results.
These lacts would lead almost all un
thinking meu to believe that their salvation
lies in milk, but as in the case of Colonel
McCaull it depends almost entirely on the
personal character of the man. I have a
cousin who is almost the counterpart of Mr
Barney, and two years ago I persuaded him
to undertake the same regime. For over a
year he worked at the milk diet without the
slightest effect. Now he is building up
very fast, but it is not through the use of
milk, but by the aid of exercise, coupled
with plenty of ale and stale bread.
It may be said in a general way that exer
cise is the most trustworthy antidote for ex
treme leanness or unwieldy "bulk. I have
never seen a fat carrier in my life. That
fact is significant enough for the average fat
man. .Let him go forth and walk and he
will get thjn, with one very important pro
viso, and that is that he does not drink
after his exercise. If a man walks six miles
a day at a good round figure it will take
him down from a heavy weight to good ath
letic proportions in time, but the walking
will not do it alone. He mnst be careful
not to drink anything for an hour or two
afterthe excrcise,and at all times during the
21 hours he must beware of liquids.
DON'T DRINK.
One reason why Colonel McCaull failed
to train down during his violent exercise
was because of the inordinate catins and
drinking which followed his work. When
trainers give men whom they are trying to
train down from heavy-weights to light
weights apple sauce and cold tea to drink
for supper they know exactly what they are
about. After a lot of exercise the stomach,
and indeed all the vital organs, are so thor
oughly aroused and healthy that the assimi
lation of food and drink and the subsequent
metamorphosis into .flesh is easy.
Liquids make tat. There is no doubt of
this in nyv mind, though I am fully cogni
zant of the fact that a good many people will
deny it. The character of the liquids has a
good deal to do with it, but the practice of
drinking invariably leads to unwieldy bulk.
In Spain, where men drink little, a fat man
is unknown. In Paris, where the men con
tent themselves with sippinc thimbles full
of ahsinthe or small cups of black coffee,
the French are thin to a remarkable degree.
The women, on thaothcr hand, drink great
quantities ot champagne, Burgundy, and
latterly ot beer, and they are ns a result
prone to stoutness. In England, men drink
ale and beer, and they arc a thick-necked,
pudgy and heavy race as a rule. I had 6b
served all this many times, and when I went
to Germany, where I knew the consumption
of beer was very great, I had prepared to
find fat men in abundance. I was not dis
appointed. There would seem to be abso
lutely no end of big, corpulent and un
wieldly men in Germany. While they are
in the army they are slim and splendid look
ing warriors, but two months after thpv
leave the ranks they become heavy, puffy
and beefy to the last degree. This is even
so in the ranks among the other soldiers,
and the cavalry were men of such extraordi
nary weight that they always excited com
ment from strangers. I may remark inci
dentally that this did not surprise me. I do
not believe in the English fad that riding
reduces a man.
On the New York mounted police force
they retire the heavy men every year. If I
am not mistaken the limit is 1G5 pounds.
As soon as a policeman gets beyond that
weisht he is taken from the mounted force
and is allowed to perform his work on foot
thereafter. 1 do not remember ever to have
seen a more alert, powerful and athletic loi
of men than those ot the mounted police of
New York. The reason is obviou. They
know they will be retired if they get beyond
a certain weight, and the resulc is that they
keep themselves in perfect trim by exercise
and abstinence from liquids. While the
rank and file of Germans were fat, I have
observed that the officers were invariably
slim and almost slender men, who presented
a splendid appearance in uniform.
DR. SWENINGEE.
I devoted a good dealjofjdeep and strenuous
thought to schemes which would enable me
to get news about the principal persons of
the empire, and among others it occurred to
me to pnt myself under treatment with Bis
marck's doctor.the famous little Sweningcr.'
1 lounu him a remarkable and delightlul
man. He knew a little English and was
very anxious to improve his accent by con
versation. He is a creatiou of Bismarck's
more or less. He looks like a Kussian
prince, has the most piercing black eyes I
have ever seen, a close clipped beard and
mustache, massive wavy coal-like hair, and
a quick, incisive and nervous manner. He
became disgraced at the very outset of a
promising medical career by an affair with
the wife of one of the professors in the col
lege where he occupied a small position.
The wife was a beautiful Viennese woman,
and she had been married to a large
and beery professor of cheniiitry nhen very
young. When she met the handsome and
fiery Swenineer she fell violently in love
with him. There was the deuce to" pay. A
terrific exposure, and some sort of an affair
between the doctor and the professor which
resulted in Sweningcr's imprisonment.
Bismarck had taken an interest in the case
from the fact that Sweninger's actions to
ward the woman had been exceedingly
manly and generous throughout. The
young doctor came out a ruined man, and
tried to practice in Berlin, but there was no
hope for him until one day he was sent for
by the Chancellor of the empire. In an
hour Bismarck had made his fortune simply
bv the mighty influence ot his patronage.
Now the two men are close and fond com
panions. I explained to Dr. Sweninger after I got
to know him howeager Americans were to
hear any actual facts about Bismarck, and
a great many o&the facts and incidents
about Bismarck which I cabled from Berlin
came from the doctor of course with the
full knowledge of how and where I was go
ing to use the information. Bismarck's
weight was about 260 pounds when Dr.
Sweninger began to treat him. Without
medicine, violent exercise or any other ex
traordinary means, the weight ot the chan
cellor was reduced to 165 pounds, and he is
now as fine a looking man as there is in the
German Empire, as far as physique is con
cerned. The Sweninger treatment is elabo
rate, but the main features are that the
patient mast not eat and drink at the same
time. His principles have been thoroughly
adopted by the officers of the German army,
and that is the reason whv the officers are
such a slim and good looking lot of men.
They cannot drink beer, and that is an
awlul cross to the German, but very Ter
men can drink beer and keep a waUt at the
same time. Blakely Hall.
WHAT IS MODERATE DRINKING?
A Question on Which Topers and Teetotalers
Differ Kadlcnllr.
New York Sun.1
The American Order 6f United Workmen
is disturbed by the conundrum, "Is moder
ate drinking harmful?" The question is
from what standpoint to view the subject.
In Montreal moderate drinking is that
which men do who take hot Scotches till
they can't count how many they have had.
In Kentucky, where the use of alcohol is
placed, as the Republican national platform
puts it, "in the fine arts," the rale is to
take all the di inks that nre offerpd in the
day time and never to refuse one at night.
In St. Louis the largest brewer has de
clared that tippling interleres with labor
ana lias sternly cut down the Deer ticKets or
his workmen to 25 a day, whereas in Long
Island the octogenarian farmers who go
courting fourth or fifth wives pronounce
whisky a preservative. It looks as though
the American order of drinking will need
more than the American Order of Workmen
can do to straighten it out.
A New Word Coined.
New xork Sun.J
In the Asbury Park directory occurs this
name: "J. R. Borden, motorneer." Thus
a new word has been coined for the lan
guage. A motorneer is the man who rides
on the front of an electric car and handles
the trolly, which runs on the wires over
head and conveys the electricity from the
wires to the motor under the car.
IT, 1889.-
CLARA BELLE'S CHAT.
A New Method of Designating Swell
Households in Gotham.
MORRISET'SMEEK-LOOKING WIDOW
Mrs. Ballington Booth Nott the Pet of
the Modish Set.
GEEEZ GOWNS AT THE COSTUME BAIL
rcoBBXsroxsiracx or the dispatch.
EWYOEK, February
16. The P a y s o n
Greenes are "in socie
ty." Otherwise I
would write of them as
the family of Mr. Pav
son Greene, or merely
as the Greenes. But It
is a new custom to speak of every swell
household as the John Browns, the William
Smiths, and like that. The Payson Greenes
are fashionable and respectable, and there
isn't a word of any sort to say against them.
But they have provided a bit of news for
this letter, and so must be named in print.
They are closely related to the official repre
sentative of Persia in Washington and this
city, and from that source learned earlier
than anybody else at a distance that the
Shah of Persia had decided to made a visit
to Europe in the soring. The Payson
Greenes conceived that it would be a de
lightful thing to bring this Eastern poten
tate to America as their guest. They made
overtures in a formal and proper way, and
for a time were encouraged to expect a success
ful issue; but they have just now received a
communication from the private secretary
of the Shah,through a deviously official pro
cess. The invitation is declined with
thanks, but in a phraseology indicating that
his Occidental Mightiness really had a
notion of crossing the ocean. I have seen
the royal missive in the original, and also
in an English translation. But it is from
another source, equally trustworthy, that I
get the reason why the Shah will not come
to America, even under a disguising name
and semblance. It is that he mistrusts the
people of any republic, and deems himself
in danger as soon as he goes beyond the
boundaries of monarchial countries. It is
only alter much hesitation that he has con
cluded to venture in Republican France.
He has arranged to arrive in Paris in Mav.
but the person who tells me of it thinks that
he may give np that portion of his tour even
yet. So the Payson Greenes will not spring
a live Shah upon society.
Forced to look nearer home for objects
of social interest, I found one in the hand
some, motherly-looking matron next to
whom I rode a hundred miles in a palace
car one day this week. Who can help
guessing at the character of fellow-travelers?
I made out thin lady to be a gentle, churchly
woman, and rather expected her to chide
on account of the trivial novel that I was
reading. But presently she took up the
morning's newspaper and turned to the page
of sporting news. She did not shift her
shocked eyes from that part of the journal
on discovering what it was. My wonder in
creased as I discerned that she was actually
reading the matter that.it wasn't baseball
that she was perusing nor even athletic
games but it was a column of gossip about
the prize fighters. No displeasure was ex
pressed in her race. On the contrary, she
beamed upon the print with unmistakable
interest. This seemed phenomenal, and I
called my companion's attention to it. He
was a resident of Troy, N. Y., and .he said:
"That is the widow of John Morrissey,
the famous pugilist and gambler. She is
now residing in Trov, w here she was born,
and where she married Morrissey. Does she
deplore her late husband's career? Isn't
her perusal of prize-fight news sufficient
answer? No, she is quite as amiable and
charitable as she looks, but she has always
been a sport herself, and remains so in dis
position if not in practice. She was the
daughter of a steamboat captain, and a de
cided beauty. She married Morrissey early
in his fame as a pugilist, and incited and
encouraged him to stay in the ring. I re
member well Iiow she used to teach their
boy, when he was a baby, to put up his lit
tle fist3 in fighting style, and it is vivid in
my memory, too, that she knocked out a
feminine neighbor on at least one occasion.
Yes; the widow of John Morrissey reads
every line of prize-fighting news that she
conies across, but always with a supreme
contempt for the men whom she regards as
degenerate successors of her husband."
Mrs. Ballington Booth looks less
like a commandingly religious woman, for
she lacks portliness; bat nobody.doubts her
sincere activity as the practical head of the
Salvation Army in this country, and she is
just now carrying her warfare with all her
might into fashionable precincts. She is
holding afternoon conversations with all
the society leaders she, can get a chance at,
and is trying to interest them in her work.
Our ladies are too busy just now with the
final dancing of the season to lend their ears
to Mrs. Booth, but when Lent puts a stop to
festivities they will, I think, pay considera
ble heed to her, and I shouldn't wonder if a
sort of crusade by modish women among the
benighted poor ensued. Meanwhile Mrs.
Booth has just decided a question of a
both practical and comical character.
The Salvation lassies, you know, are ac
customed to parody all the popular songs of
the day, using the tunes as they find them,
and either replacing ormodifying the verses
for revival purposes. Has "Razzle Dazzle"
reached your ears? It is a bacchanalian
ditty originally sung by three roistering in
ebriates in a farce at a Broadway theater.
Its refrain, "razzle dazzle, razzle dazzle,"
is slang for a hilarious and dilapidated con
dition of drunkenness. The song is intro
duced in several other place', at all the
variety theaters, and is whistled and
hummed all around town. A trio of Brook
lyn Salvation lassies got up piou rhvmes
lor the tnne, but retained the razzle dazzle
chorus, and what they wanted to know oT
Mrs. Booth is whether they could sing it at
their meetings, with an "imitation of the
manner in which it is given on the stage
that is, marching recklessly to and fro,
locked arms, and with gestures of jollity.
Mrs. Booth thought it over, and decided to
let them do it.
At this great and continually-talked-about
ball in the Academy of Design there was one
thing especially noticeable. The artists and
their wives were an entirely separate ele
ment from the blending mass of society peo
ple. The artists stood about in little groups,
dancing seldomly, and evidently feeling
that they were being regarded as canaille.
Of course, all the "real people" knew one
another, and they recognized the outsiders
immediately. This opposition of sets ren
dered the affair awkward and stiff from be
ginning to end. All the beauty ot the oc
casion was for the eye. In a visual sense it
was one of the most exquisite things ever
exposed in New York. The formation of the
building, its gorgeous decorations of tapes
tries, antique carvings and silk hangings,
together with the lines of water-color pict
ures crowded along the walls, made a sight
so entirelv fine that it could only be com
pared with a garden of the gods. The effect
of the rooms as they were at 12 o'clock
thronged with people was most
bewildering. It was quite impos
sible to detach a particular costume
from the immense splash of color
or special examination. But I noticed
that many of the young girls favored the
soft and gauzy Greek gown. In tact, this
was doubtless the most popular costume at
the lete. I believe that this was so be
cause there is nothing that can be worn, ex
cept tights, that will show the lines of the
feminine figure as will the clinging drapery
frf"f T ii I
fee lk j?
of the Greek maiden. It flows like swirl,
of mist in amone the limbs and curves ot
the girl, and when she Is delicately formed
the effect is entrancing.
I happened to be in the rooms of a well
known costumer's establishment when a
conversation took place which contains
some interest. A sprightly young woman
entered, and, after bowing a greeting, in
quired of the proprietor of the establish
ment how much he would charge to make a
certain costume for Mrs. James Brown Pot
ter. When the name of Mrs. Potter was
mentioned the costumer became angry.
"You will pardon me," he said to the
young woman who had brnughtthe inquiry,
if I compel you to take back to Mrs. Pot
ter a very decided and harsh message.
Please, tell her that she cannot have any
clothes made in ray establishment. Last
spring she made me agree to set aside cer
tain weeks of this season to get up her pro
duction here. Then she went to Paris and
brought her clothes home with her. She
can't get a dress made by me for any
price."
Imagine a young man of modern times re
turning such a message as that to the Queen
of Egypt.
The costumer then resumed his talk with
the manager of another prominent actress
who insisted that her bill must be cut down
aboutlOO percent before it would be paid.
Talking about legal redress against beau
tiful actresses' the costumer said afterward
that they could win any suit brought against
them.
"They go-down to court," he said, "spread
the smell of violets all around them, smile,
and cry, and flirt, and that settles it. They
get a verdict on their shapes." '
The Liederkranz ball was somewhat
quieter than usual this year. There was
just as big a crowd, just as gorgeous tab
leaux, and as much champagne drunk, bnt
the whole thing came to a close tamely, and
the men went about next day telling of how
stupid it all was. The Liederkranz was one
of the swellest affairs of the season a few
winters ago, but gradually it began to re
semble the French ball in its abandoned
style of action toward the small hours, and
the elegant people who had been accus
tomed to attend soon dropped away. As a
remedy for this the management appears to
have instilled into the spirit of the affair an
authoritative example of being eminently
decent, and so a commonplace picture is
produced without the old swell mob to look
at it.
But one incident that I witnessed at the
Liederkranz is good enough to relate. In
one of the baignoir boxes sat a woman alone.
She was completely enveloped in black lace,
so that to say what she looked like was im
possible, let there was something about
ner pose and her silent mystery of lonesome
ness. All the men, as they passed by the
box, would look up, but there was not a
movement of consciousness on the part of
the woman in black. I stood behind a
group of loungers, and regarded the soli
tary figure to see what she was reall there
for.
Presently man came sauntering bv with
an air of indifference and fatigue, looked
sneeringly up at the boxes as he went along,
seemingly despising the entire affair. He
was a peculiarly handsome young fellow,
with a tall, strong fignre, and fine, high
bred features. He paused, when his eye
caught the figure in black up in the box.
He took a convenient position and watched.
The tired look left his face. He was inter
ested. I looked at him and then at the
woman. She had seem him, and was mov
ing just a little for the first time since I had
discovered her. The young man had his
eyes fixed on her, and was very bright now.
I knew precisely what his thoughts were.
Here was a romantic figure; but suppose he
should investigate and uncover a scarecrow.
He had only the graceful outlines of a wom
an for a promise. The figure in black had
guessed his thoughts as soon as I did. The
scene began to be charming. The woman
raised her arm, and, as though by accident,
her lace shroud dropped back and revealed
the proof of youth. It was a round, taper
ing white arm, and the hand was as
delicate as a flower. The yonng
man still watched. . The woman
let Tier hand fall to her throat and slowly
drew the lace aside. A diamond star shone
out from marble-like perfection. The young
man started forward, and then settled back
again, as though still unconvinced. The
woman in the box seemed to understand.
She lifted, with a movement almost mad
dening in its slowness, the lace of her man
tle, fold by fold, away from the lower part
of her face. I was as breathless as the young
man she was doing it for. There was a
flash of light that was dazzling, and a
mouth like a rosebud, a chin of lily purity,
shone for one instant through the gloom of
the headdress. The young man dashed off
the floor, and in another moment was sit
ting in the box with the woman in black.
I hadn't seem her eyes. I hope for the
sake of the young man that they proved to
be worthy accompaniments of such a peer
less arm, neck and mouth.
Claba Belle.
A PECULIAR PEOPLE.
Carious History ofaltemnnnt of the Hebrew
Nation in India.
Scottish American.!
Among the many scattered remnants of
nations in India there are few more inter
esting than the Beui-Israel of the Bombay
side. TheBeni-Israel do not belong to the
lost tribes, nor have thev anv mvstcrious
connection with the Great Pvrami'd. Their
own legends aver that centuries ago their
forefathers, flying by sea from a country in
the north, were shipwrecked near Kenery
Island, and the survivors, seven families,
took refuge at Navgoan, homeless, penniless,
among strangers, and without the books of
their law. The date of this hegira is esti
mated from 1,600 to 2,000 jears azo.
Since that date the little colony of 14
souls has grown into a dispersed community
of 10,000, not unlike the ordinary Konkan
peasantry, but religiously observing the
Jewish Sabbath and whatever they can re
member of the Mosaical law. They have
been hewers of wood and drawers of water
to whatever king chanced to reign; but
they are as much Hebrews to-day as they
were two centuries before Christ.
Oa the Rlnlto.
First Actor Aha, Leonardo! Forced into
the orchestra, I see. But what may be the
instrument?
Second Actor The orchestra be drjveled!
I go to Kansas City to-night, and this, per
chance, may help me back.
OS THE KOAD.
It is indeed a mighty scheme. Judgt.
BEWARE THE GOTHS.
War Would be Impossible if Arfa
Charms Were Universally Felt
ITS INFLUENCE IN DAILY LIFE.
Man's Batnre Elevated by the Effects of
Beautiful Objects.
0DIDA EXPIA1XS HEP. IDEAS UPON AM
warms ron titx ztt
HOLD that high nd deli
cate tastes render low and
gross ones unattractive. Lava
of art will not keep a m
immaculate'.but in nine cases
out of ten it will make him
turn aside from coarse temp
tations. The arts give an
occupation to the mind which
enlarges the sympathies and refines the per
ceptions, and tends to keep them aloof from
what is gross. The arts are essentially gen
tle; they have nothing of the brutalities of
sport, the egotisms of science; the fierco
cruelties of physiological experiment are
wholly alien to it; it lives by light, by
peace, by sympathy, by loveliness.
If all the world were penetrated with ths
charm of art, war would have little place on
earth; to the man who is sensible of the har
monies of architecture the warfare which
would barn Notre Dame like a straw stack
and shell Lincoln Cathedral as indifferently
as a barrel must ever seem the most barbar
ous of the follies of humanity; and that the
Louvre and the Vatican, the Pinacothek
and the Hermitage shonld be exposed to tba
perils of dynamite must ever appear as in
famous, as deplorable, to those by whom ths
smile of Gioconda and the Faun has been
felt and the beauty of the Belviderc gods
realized. Art is in its essential essence
merciful and kindly; theatmosphereof itmar
be sometimes cold as the moonlight is cold;
but, like the moonlight, it is accompanied
by dews beneficent and refreshing to the
world.
art's etflueitce iir dailv life.
There is a pure pleasure in beautiful
lines and shapes which carries with it into
daily life a sense of joy and of well-being.
A milk jug shaped gracefully lends its own
grace, like a flower, to the nomeliest board
on which it stands. To use a well-made
and symmetrical object is to the cultured
sense a simple but absolute form of enjoy
ment. The introduction -of beautiful lines
into common objects has become usual in
the present day. though not yet universal
as it was in Etruria and Greece; but it is
still weighted with many deformities, and
unhappily most of the usages and customs
of modern life are snch as to make beauty in
them impossible. All the artistic effort in
the world could not make an umbrella beau
tiful, or a fork, or a boat, or an omnibus, or
a railway station, or a factory chimney; if
Phidias himself returned to earth he could
do nothing with any of these.
Before the necessity to disfigure the face
of all countries with wire lines such as are
demanded by telezraph and telephone com
panies the soul of an artist must faint with
in him; and there can be no question but
that the appalling ugliness of the new forms
of modern invention will fatally affect tha
minds and the creations of cominz genera
tions if in its development it does not correct
its bideousuess. As yet there does not seem
much hope that it will do so; and the rivers
turned into choking streams of grease as of
Chicago, and the whole round of human ex
istence buried under an immovable dark
ness of coal dust and coal smoke.as in Shef
field and Manchester, are at present the ter
rible conditions with which invention as op
posed to artaccompames her diabolic gifts
to man. If the influences ot art were in
one-hundredth degree as widespread as they
are .benisn the human race would refusa
such Conditions and would consider the ma-'
terial benefitsof invention far too dearly
purchased by the pollution of atmosphere,
the elimination of daylight and the obliter
ation of landscape.
THE EFFECT OF COSTUME.
As the great excellence of Greek sculpture
was to be traced to the daily spectacle of ths
nude human fisure, seen everywhere, in tha
baths, in the games, in the gardens, excel
lent in its strength, beautiful in its Ireedom,
glorious in its supple and elastic forces, so
the painting of the Middle Ages owed its
greatness to the beauty of color, of costume,
of street life, of warlike bravery, of archi
tecture and of atmosphere which everywhere
surrounded and saturated the daily lives of
the painters. There is a kinship among;
the arts which brings them all upon the thres
hold of the home in which one has been in
stalled as divinity.
Who can feel the architectural glories of
Chartres or Lens, of Cologne or Canterbury,
and not be touched by the roll of the organ
and the voices of the choir? Who can ven
erate the figure of-the "Night" and the
"Day" and not be sensible to the frescoes of
the Sistine? The sight of the Tour de St.
Jacques rising from its greenery against tha
springtide skyis worth more to the soul of
the passerby in Paris than the cheap fares
of the tramway or the machine made trous
ers in the outfitter's shop. But then the
passerby must have the eyes that can see St.
Jacques. Is not thaeducation the highest
and most truly useful which bestows snch
eyesight? All that tends to develop the in
tellectual susceptibilities and make them
stronger than the physical appetite is a gain
to mankind so long as the physical side of
existence is not repressed in an unnatural
manner, as it is repressed by anchorites of
all persuasions, whether religious or philo
sophic. Art does not represt it but refines
it and keeps it in subordination to the de
sires and aspirations of the mind.
SYMPATHY WITH INANIMATE THINGS.
A great love of art creates a great com
panionship in inanimate thing', a great in
dependence of human sympathies, and a
sense of serenity such as merely physical
pleasures cannot give. It h difficult to care
warmly and intelligently for anyone of tha
arts and remain wholly insensible to the
others. Not idly were the muses symbolized
as sisters and pictured as hand in-hand en
circling man. The arts have lost much of
their elevating influence in modern times
because they have been too closely asso
ciated to trades. Their temples have been
allowed too often to become mere workshops.
Yet, still the softening and ennobling effect
of them upon the hunfan mind is great and
their soothing charm can never be resisted
by those on whom it has once cast its spell.
The lovers of art mav spend more upon it
than they ecu Id afford, but it is better spent
there than thrown away on low or frivolous
pleasures.
To purchase gobelin tapestries for your
bedroom is better than to gamble or to be
ruined by dissipation. The motive may be
pure self-indulgence in the one as in the
other, but the lormer egotiini ba a certain
elevation in it, tends to refineand spiritu
alize the mind and has beneficial influences
upon others, while the latter egotism is
brutalizing, Jendenin;, and has effects
which are pernicious and la'sting upon ths
egotist himself and upon all around him.
It-cannot be too repeatedly insisted on
that the arts soften, lighten and ennoble
life. The mere pursuit of gain is base; tha
excitements of speculation and oL com
merce are ignoble, the whole tendencies of
modern life are. at once intoxicating and
saddening. Odida.
Safr, Qnlck nntl EffectWe.
The valuable curative properties of Allcock'S
Porons plasters are doe to the employment of
the highest meuical and chemical skill. They
are purely vegetable, and In in;rredient9 ana
method have never been equalled; safe, quick
and effective In their action; they do not burn
or blister, but soothe and relieve while curio",
and can bo worn without causing pain or incon
venience. Do not be deceived by misrepresentation. AH
other so-called porous plasters are Imitations,
made to sell on the reputation of Allcoca's.
Ask for Allcock's, and let no explanation er
solicitation Induce yon to accept a substi
tute, ga
SL-Jal ,