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THE NATIONAL TBIBUNE: WASHINGTON, D. C., DECEMBER 10, 1881.
INCOMPLETE.
There's a song that I never could sing,
Though its notes in my memory ring,
And its measures are full of the sweets of the years,
Of voices of- children and laughter and tears
And the whirr of the summer bird's wing.
There's a picture I never could paint
Sweet and fair as some aurcoled saint;
Like a dawn on the ocean, where no eyes can see,
In wild, fitful splendor it burnetii for me,
And I mourn as its colors grow faint.
There's a dream ah ! I never can tell
"What my own bosom loveth so well ;
Yet how sweetly it comes in the depths of the night;
Like a message it comes, like a message of light
From the land where the sun children dwell.
For I gather the thought and the tone
From the wreck of bright hours that arc flown,
And I hold to my heart, in my foolish despair,
A trifle a nothing much lighter than air
Lifeless leaves of a love I have known.
Edgar M. Bacon in Baldwin's Monthly.
A LOOK IN THE STREAM.
Seest thou a joy depart from thee
Thou must for ever banish,
!Tis well within a stream to sec
II-sw all things whirl and vanish.
Look deeply down, stare on and on,
Thou wilt more lightly bear it,
The loss of what, heart-wrenched, is gone,
Although thy dearest were it.
Then shall oblivion, dreaming so.
Thy heart with healing cherish;
The spirit watches with her woe
Herself How past mid perish.
TOM'S WIFE.
CHAPTER III.
Although I had succeeded in checking the
utterance of the vow on Tom's lips, yet he speed
ily fulfilled it, as if it had heen duly recorded
against him. He sought out Jessica in her
French home. His eager love proved trium
phant; and he wrote to me that in a few weeks'
time they would he united at the British Consu
late. His sanguine temperament made him, not
withstanding several rebuffs, still hopeful of
obtaining employment. He had an annual in
come of ahout a hundred pounds of his own,
which he had inherited from his mother. Be
yond that, he was possessed of nothing save his
own untried talents.
As far as I could judge, his father still seemed
to maintain his feeling of resentment against
him, for he refused to allow me ever to mention
his name in his presence. Tom's letter to me
from Paris with the news of his approaching
marriage first caused the silence to he "broken.
His last hope was gone, and he would indeed dis
inherit his disohedient son. The Hall and Park
were entailed ; hut what would they he without
money to maintain them ? The rest of his ex
tensive property was his own ahsolutely, and this
he determined to leave to Christahel Favre, for
merly Christahel- Martin. "And, "Woollaston,"
he added, as I listened to him in silence, "let the
will state that I have disinherited ; ' u. A. :
aisoDeaience ana disrespect to ins lat . ihar
hereafter the words may rankle vi ' bin,
and their remembrance he as gall oriu
wood."
Poor miserable old man! And so vwu. nouia
sting from beyond the grave, carrying your ven
geance into another world, where, if our past be
remembered, how small must seem the good of
even the best among us.
TVe were standing talking not far from the
dower-house. "You do not know her, I think,"
said the Squire, as, at the conclusion of his Bpeech,
my eyes wandered in the direction of Madame
Favre's abode. "I am going to call on her. Come
with me, and I will introduce you to her." Link
ing his arm within mine, he led me to the house.
Madame Favre, fortunately was at home ; and
the neat little maid one of our village lasses,
for Madame had only brought her own personal
attendant with her opened the door, and at once
ushered us into the drawing-room. The furni
ture was very prim and old-fashioned ; but the
delicate arrangement of the Toom, with its pretty
pink-lined curtains, and bowls and vases filled
with winter flowers, robbed it of its stiffness, and
lent it a feminine grace, which must have owed
its origin to its mistress's refined and cultured
taste. Presently, the door opened, and a tall,
elegant woman entered, with a graceful, gliding
movement. Her black dress was plain and sim
ple, almost to severity, and fitted closely to the
supple outlines of her well-formed figure. I
should have estimated her age as about thirty,
although, from her appearance, she might well
have passed for a much younger woman. The
face was undoubtedly captivating, though it pos
sessed features in some respects too strongly con
trasting, and the light of her dark hazel eyes
seemed to me slightly furtive and restless. Her
soft, golden hair was uncovered by anything to
denote widowhood, and the beautifully modelled
white hands displayed no ornaments save a wedding-ring
and an unpretending keeper. She re
ceived us with a sweet graciousness ; and soon I
found myself rapidly succumbing to her fascinat
ing power, and half regretting the Rosebank
Cottage episode, which had deprired Tom of the
chance of winning so fair a prize.
"You will not forget me, if you should hear of
anything that would be likely to suit me," she
said as we rose to leave, after she had confided to
me the requirements of the residence for which
she was searching. "I have no one to advise me
now I am quite alone," she murmured with a
pretty little sigh, as she half absently bent her
gaze on a small ivory miniature that was stand
ing in a costly frame, on the mantel-piece.
"Not quite alone, Madame Favre," interposed
the Squire gallantly. "I am always at your ser
vice and so is Mr. Woollaston." There was a
humorous twinkle in his shrewd old eyes as he
glanced at me; and my foolish, shrivelled, old
cheeks actually flushed at the covert raillery, as
my old-world politeness made me bow my head
and murmur : "I am ever your obedient servant,
Madame."
" John," cried the Squire, turning so as to face
me, as we reached the Park gates, and addressing
me by my Christian name, as in the days when
we were lads together, "are you going to take
unto yourself a wife in your old age ? "
""Why not?" I returned jokingly.
"Your years are threescore and ten, John."
"Ay, what then?" I retorted. "Why should
not the heart be as green at seventy as at
twenty ? "
Time passed on, and I delayed as long as I
could the preparation of the unnatural and vin
dictive deed by which the old man proposed to
disinherit his son. Meanwhile, I had again heard
from Tom, this time telling me that he was act
ually married, and that he intended, after some
weeks' stay in France, to proceed to London, in
the hope of obtaining employment. I was half
afraid to mention the fact to the Squire, as I
judged it would at once bring matters to an issue,
and that he would order the Avill to be immedi
ately completed and signed. Still a few weeks
more were allowed to elapse, during which time
I, as much as possible, avoided meeting the
Squire. But one day he called upon me, and
asked if I had any further letters from his son.
I told him that I had, and that Tom was married.
He was in a state of great excitement and wrath ;
and it was with some difficulty that I could sub
due his rage enough to enable us to converse in
ordinary business terms of the will, which he
now told me to prepare without another day's
delay. I made more than one attempt to inter
cede for the young man thus to be disinherited ;
but this only served to exasperate him still more;
and he intimated that if I was not prepared to
carry out his wishes, he would be necessitated to
place his affairs in the hands of another agent.
Merely as a matter of business, my connection
with the Squire was of small moment to me; but
we had been old friends, and I had long managed
all the affairs of the Athelings of Atheling, and
did not relish any suggestion of another taking
my place. Besides, I considered that my refusal
to draw up the will would not in any way pre
vent the Squire from carrying out his design ;
while, if the matter were placed in other hands,
I should lose the opportunity of still doing some
thing, as I hoped, for the advantage of his ban
ished and disinherited son. The obnoxious doc
ument, therefore, was prepared, the Squire him
self writing the draft of the fatal clause that dis
inherited his son, and a day was fixed for me to
call at the Hall to have it signed.
On the day named I found my client waiting
for me in the library. Everything was in readi
ness; and the will, which was very short, was
quickly read through. The pen was in his hand,
and I was about to summon two of the servants
as witnesses, when he stopped me. "Does not
marriage invalidate a will?" he asked as he
turned to me inquiringly.
"It does," I rerjlied, "if signed before the cere
mony." "Humph ! " he muttered, as if considering some
point. He paused for a moment, and then added,
as if he had found a solution of his difficulty:
"Procrastination is always dangerous. I will
sign this now ; and if another should be required,
why, you won't object. It will be so much more
grist to your mill."
"Certainly," I replied, taking his joke in good
humor; "and I am srlad to hear .ymi fp.llr nf
);..i- o an- uii ill, i'j. i hi- ih a m--t unjust
t .1
ou ar pcrvosly aat unrces rily wancW- 1
my will. I was alluding to the probability of
my marriage with Madame Favre."
"Indeed ! " I exclaimed, at a loss for words with
which to express my surjjrise.
"Yes," he continued; "I have written to her
on that subject, and am now awaiting her answer.
No reason, you know, Woollaston," he added with
sly humor, repeating my words, " that the heart
should not be as green at seventy as at twenty."
I could only laugh. A great disparity in age
between husband and wife, on whichever side it
may be, is generally objectionable ; but beyond
this I could see no valid reason against the mar
riage. The lady's ample fortune would obviate
the necessity of a large jointure to cumber the
estate. Again, I was in hopes that if the Squire
once saw the golden bait that had tempted him,
within his grasp, his resentment against Tom
might become softened, and eventually, under his
wife's undoubtedly amiable influence, be entirely
removed.
I could not, however, find words in which to
offer the money-loving old suitor any congratu
lations upon the step whith he proposed to take,
and somehow I could not help wishing that the
lady would have the good sense to refuse the
offered marriage. As it was, I was fain to hide
my confusion and dislike of the proceeding, by
ringing the bell, and calling in a couple of ser
vants to witness the signing of the deed. A few
minutes served to complete the work; and I took
an early opportunity of bidding good-bye to the
Squire, making a pretence of urgent business
elsewhere the excuse for not staying to dine with
him, as he seemed more than usually anxious I
should do.
As I returned to my office, I could not help
reflecting upon the sudden and unexpected de
termination of the Squire to marry this lady, so
much his j unior in years, and so unlike him in
other respects; and in truth I scarcely knew
whether to attribute his resolve more to a feeling
of revenge against his son, or simply to a desire
to possess the lady's large and unencumbered
fortune. I felt inclined to write to Tom at once,
and tell him of what was taking place; but on
second thought I decided that it would be better
to delay doing so till I knew the issue of the
Squire's proposal to the beautiful widow.
I was not allowed to remain long in suspense.
Next afternoon, the Atheling carriage arrived at
my door, and the Squire walked into my room.
" Congratulate me, John ! " he cried, with some
thing like a juvenile merriment, which sat ill
upon a countenance where age had already left
its indellible imprint. "Congratulate me! The
lady has accepted my offer; and in one month
from to-day, Madame Favre is to become the
Lady of Atheling Manor."
"Well, well," I said, with a faint attempt to
appear hearty, "you are doing twice what I have
not yet had the courage to do once."
"But, then, there is no reason why the heart
should not be as green at seventy as at twenty! "
he replied, slapping me on the shoulder.
I felt that I could not reciprocate his jocularity,
and so was glad when he proceeded to some other
matters of business between us than this of his
marriage. After his departure, I ' sat down and
wrote to Tom a brief account of what had taken
place, hiding my own concern as to the issue of
this strange turn of events under expressions of
hope that things might somehow be brought
about by the lady's influence to remove the
Squire's feelings of antipathy towards his son.
But this was more with a view to Tom's peace of
mind than my own; for I could not divest myself
of the fear that 1he consequences of this marriage
might be more inimical to Tom's chances of
succession than at first sight it had seemed to
me.
For a week I saw nothing more of the Squire;
but at the end of that time he called, and stated
that it would le necessary for me to prepare a
contract of maniage, and that without delay, as
Madame Favre found it necessary to go to France
on some business which her agent in Paris could
not complete in her absence ; and for this reason,
it was decided that the marriage should take
place in the following week, after which the
Squire would accompany her to the continent.
The terms of the contract were therefore agreed
upon ; and they were somewhat peculiar. Under
this agreement le was to receive from Madame
Favre the absolute possession of all her property,
both heritable anil movable ; she, on her part, to
receive a large annual sum in name of pin-money
out of the Atheling estate, with a handsome
jointure in the"' event of her surviving him. It is
unnecessary to enter into details regarding the
other provisions of the contract, except to say
that the Squire's son was by name excluded from
the succession, accordance with the terms of
the will already executed by his father.
However unpleasant might be my feelings on
the subject, I had no alternative but to comply
with the Squire's wishes, or rather commands.
This was on Wednesday; and it was arranged
that on Friday I should go to Atheling with the
completed contract, in order that it might be
signed by the principals, and the matter con
cluded. The marriage was to take place on the
Monday following. My heart bled for Tom; but
as I had already written him as to his father's
engagement with Madame Favre, and as no further
letter could now reach him in time to admit of
any interference on his part, even if that were of
any use, I contented myself with allowing things
to take their course.
(To be continued.)
HE FINISHED HIS STORY,
His name was John X. B , but everybody
called hin X. He was known all over the Terri
tory, and, for that matter, there were few old set
tlers on the Pacific Slope, from Utah north to the
British line, who had not heard of him.
The Vigilantes looked upon him as one of their
strong men, and the road-agents shunned him as
they would a pestilence. He had drawn the rope
on more of their number than any ten men be
side, and, though often " laid for," had never been
caught napping. He seemed to them a sort of
avenging angel one ever on their track, and
one. ton. whom it was difficult to elude. Thev
7r- vas not cv -.j;e however,
pf ra"3i.-. Sjcc g stalw .i
rv u in ap-
sltV jiK
of them being possessed of a continuing desire to
look across the bridge f his nose at the other),
grizzly mustache, and close-cropped hair, plenti
fully sprinkled with gray, he presented more the
appearance of one of nature's odd-jobs, or the
work of some journeyman in the employ of the
Great Master.
A Scotch-Welshman, born in Pennsylvania, he
possessed the characteristics of three nationalities
in about even proportion. He was shrewd, witty,
discreet, honest, and courageous. A good friend
and bitter enemy; he was ever just, no matter in
which relation he happened to be placed by cir
cumstances. As already intimated, X. was an oddity. He
was never at rest unless " on the go." During the
spring, summer, and autumn he was traveling
from camp to camp ; and so well was he known
that letters bearing no inscription other than a
rudely drawn skull and cross-hones would be
sure to reach him in due time; but when winter
came he usually laid up in some town to " make
himself miserable," as he frequently observed,
"to the extent of his ability.
ne loved adventure, loved his friends, loved
his "pizen," but, best of all, loved to spin long
tales of his exploits and hair-breadth escapes to
a select party prepared to weigh out the dust for
drinks.
One cold, blustering night in the winter of
1866-67 he was in town, and a party, consisting
of twelve or fifteen of the leading business men,
with whom he was a great favorite, seduced him
into a cosy saloon (which was no difficult matter),
and, after sitting down to a round of hot toddy,
called for a story.
X. squared himself for business by sitting
down astride his chair, his arms resting upon its
back, thus forming a convenient prop for his chin,
and began the narration of a trip to British Amer
ica, from whence he had recently returned, after
undergoing all manner of hardships and overcom
ing obstacles and meeting with dangers of the
greatest magnitude. He interpolated his remarks
with occasional calls for " throat wash," and lu
bricated his talk with frequent potations of hot
Scotch and other savory compounds.
The story was comparatively old to his listen
ers (he had repeated it on several different occas
ions to the same parties individually, if not col
lectively), yet they listened with the most earnest
attention.
In the course of an hour X. was taking his
hearers over the border into the territory of the
British Queen, and had become so interested him
self that he failed to notice the gradual with
drawal of the audience to whom he was address
ing himself.
One by one they disappeared, and at length
the last of them had gone.
For ten minutes he rattled away, the bar
tender at the farther end of the room being his
only listener (for it was well on toward morning),
when, receiving no response to an interrogatory
touching some matter, he turned and found him
self alone.
"Well, I'll be d d," he almost gasped. That
was all. Getting up, he went to the bar.
"Did them fellers settle?" he inquired.
"Not a bit of -it," replied the mixer of fluids.
X. went clown into his pocket, pulled out his
buckskin pouch, and, handing it over, said,
"weigh out," which being done, he took a "night
cap " and departed. Next day his entertainers
were rather shy, but X. appeared on the streets
as usual and as cordial as ever.
So xinconscious did he seem of the events of
the preceding evening that some even doubted if
he saw the joke.
He remained in town until April, and every
body had forgotten the occurrence everybody
but the victim.
Toward the latter part of April he sat out in
pursuit of a noted horse-thief, whom he succeeded
in capturing by overloading his stomach with
buckshot. Of course the thief could not recover
from such a dose, and was consequently brought
into town dead and laid out in a cell of the jail.
The next morning X. sent out invitations to
various of the citizens to view the body, and,
about ten o'clock they began to arrive at the cal
aboose. In a few minutes, by a remarkable co
incidence, all those who some months before had
been such impatient listeners were standing in the
reception-room. X. opened the ponderous door,
and they followed him into the corridor leading
to where the body lay in a room or cell some ten
or twelve feet square, lighted by a small grated
opening looking into the jail dining-room.
None of them observed X. when ke slipped out
and fastened the cell door upon them.
The first intimation they had of his absence
was when he perched himself upon a high stool,
rested his elbows upon the window ledge, and
remarked, as he looked within, "Now, by G d,
I guess I'll finish my story." And he did. He
began at first where he had left off several weeks
before, but finally, fearing that they might have
forgotten what had been told, started over again,
commencing at the first.
By dinner time he was nearly half-way
through, and the prisoners were frantic. There
they were merchants, lawyers, bankers, the lead
ing men of the place, good citizens all cooped
like felons and with a felon dead, at that.
At one o'clock X. politely be vr J u b- xxctr ,
ed, while he ate his dinner. Hi r ,c orrvpid j
him nearly an hour. Then ! ain?tbi
thread of his narrative, and by rr--e ,
finished. He next brought th tl l
requisition reading several sele .'- :' r: ir.
erbs, Ecclesiastes, and the Sc - ' . ?,i nu-
which, having finished, he gave tne prisoners
some sound advice and a long lecture upon good'
breeding.
"Always ask to be excused, gentlemen, when
you wish to withdraw from the presence of com
pany, it isn't polite to sneaK out as n you naa
called for drinks and hadn't the 'dust' to square
with."
With this closing remark he turned them loose,
and a more crestfallen lot of mortals never was
seen.
By dark, X.'s joke was all over the town. The
victims of it were prodded, wherever they went,
w:-" : 'jrt . i.jA'e " . ' .ui" in
UAiv- i f ho ' " r' :5.ef i1'.'. ' . . ;,Ae the ;
-t.3 V : v ,i i tT... i.m' : ;:v ,, ,aorivs.
-. ! . .
Jjt- La o.I-
was, " Come, boys, let's take something." It cost
them many an ounce of the precious metal to
,lay the ghost that worried them, and it was a
long time before they could laugh over the dex
trous manner in which the tables had been turn
ed upon them. The time came, however. Them
selves and X. remained good friends, but none of
them even so much as thought of trying to play
another practical joke upon him.
SOME PERQUISITES.
One of the recent publications on the part of
the Government, under authority of Congress,
was the supplement to the Revised Statutes, pre
pared by Hon. W. A. Richardson, judge of the
Court of Claims. This volume is indispensable
to almost every lawyer in the land, inasmuch as
it contains every law passed by Congress since
the Revised Statutes were issued, "with a proper
reference to any former statutes affected by such
new legislation. Congress, with great liberality,
provided that the volume could be had of the
Secretary of State at the cost price of 2, and that
each Representative should have ten volumes for
" distribution." One of the leading booksellers
of Washington says, of the 400 volumes recently
sold by him, fifty were obtained by purchase from
members of Congress. As this covers only a sin
gle house dealing in this book, the probabilities
are that some two or three hundred copies voted
by Congress for distribution have been sold out
right by Congressmen. The law never intended
that the members should have the public docu
ments printed as a " perquisite," but that they
should be distributed among the people for gen
eral information.
It is no secret, however, that many Represent
atives and some Senators turn over to second
hand book dealers, and, in some instances, to
dealers in new books alone, all of their quota of
Government publications, and use the money
thus realized to invest in stocks or "fight the
tiger." It would seem about time that this abuse
should be stopped by suspending altogether the
valuable Avorks now published or by requiring
members of Congress to pay for them at cost
price. About 4,700 copies of Richardson's Sup
plement to the Revised Statutes were printed for
distribution by Congressmen, and although not
one-third of those entitled to them have been in
Washington since the book was issued, probably
one-tenth of those thus printed have been sold
to book-dealers here clearly in violation of law.
Every lawyer who has not a copy should call
upon his Congressman for one, and this will prob
ably deter many who have not yet reached Wash
ington from selling as soon as they put in an ap
pearance here. Dispatch to the Nav York Commer
cial Advertiser.
There is no flock, however watched and tended,
But one dead lamb is there ;
There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended,
But has one racant chair. Longfellow.
Thought is deeper than all speech ;
Feeling deeper than all thought;
Souls to souls can never teach
What unto themselves was taught.
Craneh.
AN EMPRESS AT BAY.
TenipJe-JBar, recalling the fruitless visit of the
Empress Charlotte to get help for her husband
Maximilian to support his empire in Mexico
says: The court was at St. Cloud, and on de
manding an interview of the Emperor, she was
informed that his majesty was ill and could not
see her. The two Empresses, however, exchanged
visits ; and, arrived at St. Cloud, the Empress
Charlotte insisted on being received into the Im
perial closet. Then ensued, we are told, a scene
which must have haunted Louis Napoleon to his
dying day. When to prayers, tears and agonized
supplications on her part, his only reply was a
coldly reiterated, "It is useless to insist, Madam,
not a crown, not a soldier," the princess whom
such cruel anxieties had already brought to the
verge of madness, gave way to frenzied utter
ances, recalling the piece " Trojan Cassandra." Ris
ing from her abject position as suppliant, she
drew herself up to her full height, and with a
kind of inspiration prophesied to the tyrant the
destruction of his dynasty, and cursed him to his
fate. " Ah ! " she cried, " I know you ! Avenge
yourself on the granddaughter of your benefac
tor, Louis Phillippe, who rescued you from the
scaffold and from want." The Emperor turned
pale, and she went on : "You hope, do you not,
to get xossession, by means of your police, of all
the letters and papers that witness your pledges
to my husband? They are in a place of safety."
After predicting his downfall, she added, tears
choking her utterance, " May the curse of God
rest on yon as on Cain!" and then quitted the
palace. Four years later, on the declaration of
war with Prussia, Napoleon III departed from
the palace of St. Cloud, wherein this interview
with the Empress Charlotte had taken place.
INDIGESTION.
Indigestion simply means difficult digestion.
And at the outset I advise those of my readers
who occasionally suffer from indigestion not to
read much about it, as the imaginative are very
easily led to believe that they have the com
plaint. Symptons. The symptoms attending an
ordinary case of indigestion are : A feeling of
;-. ... -r ' - c r "i-;nrr food, it
may K iintf r rv i.u- ei . tl . ilistension
if real, and r :a ' so :vn$. :.rir.' ; to cause
.., x uhig said paiii aim great is. t. Some
. r s tliHTe i, it fel'- .:' ' i id it may
!:!! v. :ui.: ,' -" ... there is a
- ' r" -.;. - . - on as food
is taken ; it may De suarp or oi a ourninz kind,
such as is commonly called heartburn. Palpita
tion and a sense of fainVness are symptoms of
indigestion. There is depression, sometimes
amounting to melancholy; the sufferer cannot
keep in one position, but paces the room in agita
tion ; he has restless nights and uneasy dreams.
He wakes in the morning without that feeling
of refreshment which follow? rpose in health.
His limbs ache, the muscles of the trunk are
sore even to the touch, and every alteration of
the weather is felt as a serious evil. Such are
the local symptoms of indigestion. They will
I,".t t.i : J. ..-as , it ' t r ti
viHp-' :! C; . Indijeticii :-iis.-.iriT" .-'.
th. uta of : uC ea? ' " 1 '-m ?..
- .u;1' e avoki- "-or.1 hM lei. :
30 i -' ..ivi. .., .cd cja. Tii X:- a.
common ca'use of indigestionf and is moso seen
in women who live a good deal on tea. "Want
of exercise and fresh air are causes of indiges
tion; for how can men and women be healthy
who never use their limbs ? Regular and daily
exercise, if possible, in the open air, is indis
pensable as a means of preventing indigestion.
Treatment. For this purpose care should be
taken to regulate the quantity and quality of
the food and drink; to persevere in regular
exercise in the open air. and attend to the state of
the clothing. In this disease, perhaps more than
any other which affects the human body, more
will depend upon regulation of the food and
drink than on all the medicines which can be
taken. Acidity of the stomach is caused by
the food passing into a state of fermentation ;
hence acid and wind are generated. One or two
teaspoonfuls of magnesia is the best means of
obviating this; and at the same time gentle
purgatives are necessary, but severe purging is
always to be avoided in this complaint. Re
specting the diet for dyspeptics, all pastries,
rich puddings and sweetmeats are to be dis
carded or used very sparingly. Excessive use
of alcoholic drinks or of strong tea must be
discontinued. Solid animal food of the easiest
digestion . is to be used, with stale bread or
biscuits. In extreme cases, farinaceous food
alone, such as gruel, arrow-root, sago, etc., should
form the diet. Pepper, salt, and other soluble
stimulants may be taken with the food, as they
excite a rapid discharge of gastric fluid. Tepid
and cold bathing will be found of great service
to the dyspeptic; also the mineral waters of
Buxton, Bath, Pyrmont, and other watering
places, are generally resorted to by invalids.
As affording a change of scene and air, they
may be highly advantageous. The dyspeptic
should rise early, and actively exercise them
selves in the open air, and always rest after a
meal. Dinner is perhaps the most difficult meal
to digest, and tea should never be taken within
four hours after it; for it takes beef and mutton
three hours to three hours and a half to digest;
turkey, lamb, potatoes, pig, digest in two hours
and a half; eggs, salmon, trout, apples, digest
in an hour and a half; rice and tripe digest in
about an hour. Animal substances in general
are converted into chyme more rapidly than
vegetables; but what we have to remember is
that we have got teeth, and that we must chew
our food, and not "bolt" it J". W. Bidley, in
English Mechanic.
HOBSON'S CHOICE.
Tobias Hobson was the first man in England
that let out hackney horses. "When a man came
for a horse, he was led into the stable, where
there was a great choice, but he obliged him to
take the horse which stood next to the stable
door, so that every customer was alike well
served according to his chance, from whence it
became a proverb when what ought to be a mat
ter of election was forced upon an individual to
say "Hobson's choice."
Tell truth, and shame the devil.-Shakespeare.
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