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PAT'S PHILOSOPHY. When the winter is cold I keep myself warm ; When the summer is hot I keep myself cool ; It's mebbe I'm bold, And it's mebbe I'm not; But a gossoon's a fool When he goes into harm ! Sez my old Uncle Dan — A wise one and stiddy 11 What's the world to a man When hia wife is a widdy? " When a soldier struts by With hi* word at his aide, And the rattle, rattle drums Beat the roll and the call. He may go or may fly — I stay here till death comes, For I mind me of all That in battle have died! I am like Uncle Dan, For he said— troth and did he— " What's the world to a man When his wife is a widdy ? " When the sailor hoists sail And stands out on the deep, Leaving sweetheart or wifo And the childer behind, He timpts the wild gale And he trifles with life, And he sinks, d'ye mind, Where the mermaidens sleep ! " Pat," sez old Undo Dan, " Stay at home ■with your Biddy ; What's the world to a man When his wife is a widdy?" Let the scholar sit up And write late and long To insure him a name — He may sit up for me ; Give me but • full cup, He may have all his fame ; For it's stuff, d'ye see, And not worth an old song ; Let us live, Uncle Dan ; Let us live and love, Biddy ; What's the world to a man When his wife is a -.viddy? HALSEY'S STORY. "You are a jolly fellow, Halsey, al most always jolly," said bright-eyed Mrs. Steele. "Sometimes, though, I fancy that I detect an expression of pained sadness about you. But you are such n peculiar fellow that I have been afraid to say anything about it." A little pause, during which pretty- Mrs. Steele eyed the "jolly fellow" sharply, and then took tip her crotehet iag again, while he gave two or three quiet whiffs at his cigar. Pretty Mr?. Steele knew how to man age this man. Some ladies have a peculiar tact for m:tnaping old bache lors; Mrs. Steele was one of that kind. Bhewasom of those lively, kind-heart ed, middle-age ] ladies, a blessing in her homo, a dutiful wife, with some pretty ways lel't for her gentlemen friends, a good mother, with a little <>f her youth ful coquettishness -till clinging to her. A particular, good-natured bit of a body, wiiose smile brings sunlight into a gloomy day, and whose soothing touch and spicy talk is a good panacea for all tlio ills of life. A woman who can cry with you if she finds you in trouble, or laugh with you at your own misfortunes. A blessing to mankind in general, out side of her home as well as within it. Halsey, as she addressed him — more properly, Dick Halsey — was a fine.broad shouldered fellow, a bachelor — or, at loswl, in his thirties, getting a little bald just where his long, sloping forehead be gan to curve backward before gradually ascending to form the bump of self-es teem. A large, clear, blue eye, that 1 toked you deliberately and squarely in tlio face, and turned to a sparkling vio let when he became excited or spoke with in'jre than usual animation ; a broad chin, shaved smooth ; a hazel colored mustache, a firm, decided mouth — :i .striking, robust type of manhood. Halsey always spoke deliberately, and generally paused before making any re mark, after another had done speaking, long enough to make it seem probable that what had been said was being weighed in his niiud. After such a halt ha remarked slowly, in reply to Mrs. Steele: "It La so. I am sometimes painfully sad." He gave two or three quick puffs, and then threw his cigar out of the open window, and turned his chair so as to face his friend. " I can see it all again at times, and all the old heartache comes back. I see the soft moonlight, which filled our hearts with an awful stillness, a desolate, stinging pain. I sea a beautiful, sober faced young girl, crushed in her young heart's best offering of love. Did I love her ? Yes, with that rich, unbounded love which can fill our hearts completely but once ; with that sort of love which leaves no longing of the affections un filled ; with such love as makes prosper ity and adversity welcomed by young hearts with mutual hope or care. " What was her name? Menard — Daisy Menard. This little miniature will give you some notion of her appear ance. Dark hair, soft dark-blue eyes — a sober, lovable light in them — a small, shapely hand, a dignified, graceful ap pearance. She was a little bit of a body, quiet and unassuming, but fuli of pluck. "For two years we were friends at school* I came to love her, but was un willing to disturb our friendship by let ting her know it. I hid the deeper af fection within me, and we were friends. A beautiful friendship, frank and help ful, held us just so near during the two years of our school life. Day by clay I folfc that she was becoming more a part of my life; tliat I was happy when she was near and miserable when she was away; that she brought out in me what was erood; that my tastes were molded into better form by hers; and that I was nerved to greater exertions, higher as pirations, by her queenly nature. " It seemed to me that everything was against any declaration, or even appear ance, of a, deeper affection than that helpful friendship. I was poor; I must finish my law course, or 'woe was me,' I felt; everything was against my getting myself in any position where I would feel hampered. I must have plenty of time. I must work patiently and indus triously. Even with my most sanguine hopes, some years must elapse before I would be independent in my profession. We were young, too — scarcely at our twenties yet. No, no ! I must not let her see that she was more than a friend in my thoughts ! Then I stood some what "in awe of this quiet little woniau. There was behind Lev frankness, her exquisite naivete, a refined dignity which seemed to make friendship easy, but made me question with myself whether any appearance of a deeper feeling would have been received at that time. "But, during the last month of our school days, I sometimes thought I dis oerned a very marked change in her — something different from the old naive' friendship. She was rounding out into a prouder, more-dignified womanhood. She became more coquettish, and I b - gin to fear that our friendship might not always last. "My last term was finished. I grad uated with honors and debts. I was determined to follow Bractan and Bha k stone, and, in a few days, with the help of friends, had secured a place und.-i on attorney well-up in the piofession, an 1 began my reading at once. I earned something in the office copying, and addea enough to my slender purse to be abU to live and prosecute my studies uninterruptedly by giving lessons in French. " I began to feel settled, and wrote to Daisy, mixing quotations from Kent with criticisms of the latest novel, and gossipy chat about the place, people and my hopes for the future. ' I felt more settled,' I said. 'I was glad to have done with school and feel myself in the world. ' I spoke with pride of my pro fession, and was sanguine of success. "Many letters followed this during tlie summer. Some were as hopeful, others despondent. Some pretty hints were thrown out. A little coquetting fol lowed. One littlo suggestion followed another with great deliberation, before any decided declarations of real feeling were made. But it all came about at last, and we understood each other. "It now began to seem to me that I was making slow progress. I got discour aged. I saw before me several years of self-denial and close application to study before I could hope to build up a pro fession such as I anticipated. I wrote more and more discouragingly to Daisy, but still the little woman clung to me with cheerful hope. She was never afraid of my abilities, never impatient with waitiDg, and her quiet, indomitable trust renewed my courage, as often as I found it wavering." " A year soon slipped away and I grow more impatient, more discouraged. I fancied that I was making little advance ment, and was continually galled by the thought that this lovely woman was clinging to me, when, if she would let me go, she might make for herself a brill iant career in society ; might arrange her prospects for life so much more satisfactorily. Little stories began to reach my ears, that she was amusing herself with all sorts of flirtations. I said to niyself, that she was becoming tired of me, a.s I was of myself. I began to speak deprecatingly of an engagement that promised so little happiness. Daisy, on her part, began to fancy that I was becoming tired of her ; that I was im patient of the bonds with which I was bound. A sort of formality and coldness Legan to creep into our correspondence. A little iciness damped the affection which had never before been marred by an unkind thought or word. Every let ter now widened the breach. "Another half-year passed and the estrangement had becomo intolerable. I had heard several stories of incon stancy on her part. At last I heard that she was about to be married. Afterward it seemed probable to me that these sto ries might have been started with a particular design that I should hear them ; but no such thought occurred to me at that time. 11 1 felt unwilling to lot the matter go further, and so I wrote Daisy, telling her that it scarcely seemed possible that our engagement would ever result in anything satisfactory to either of as ; that I did not believe, after all that had taken place, that we could ever be happy together, and requested her, if she found it agreeable with her own feelings and wishes, to release me. "Ah, but you can have no idea oi what that brief letter cost me ! I low I that woman with all tho fire there was in me. I still c'mng to the oil low witu passionate longing, in spite, of the es tranged feelings which had sprang up between us. All night I walked the floor of my room, and again and again 1 took up the note I had written, with tlu thought of destroying it. How could I send it ? How could I give up deiibi r ately all that made life or success dear to me? It was a terrible struggle, ;t tight for self-mastery. As dtylight came creeping through, my window, I felt more decided ; and, lest my determina tion should iinally give way, I put on my hat. sealed and stamped the letter, and walked around to the postoffice aud dropped it into the box. As I retraced my steps reel felt the cool morning breeze fanning my feverish face, it seemed to me that my heart stood still with awful loneliness. All the light and joy of life seemed to have vanished. "A week was like an age to me before I received a brief note from Daisy, with just these words : ' You are free. I send you the ring which I havo so long worn for you. I have been foolish and incon stant, but I never willfully deceived you. I have been so tortured with doubts and fears that I have allowed myself to give others, whom I ought to have repelled, too much reason to hope. You have been so cold, and have spoken so discouriigingly, that I have felt self a hindrance to you, rather than a help. You placed an insurmount able barrier between us, and met my love with such formality that it chilled my heart. But I shall not plead a greater excuse. Forgive me if I have seemed inconstant. God knows my heart, and He knows that it has been true and right ! Oh, darling ! darling ! I have loved yon always, though my heart has sometimes ached with gueh bitter, lonely pain ! Good-by, and may God bless and prosper you.' ~~ "I remember every word of that let ter ; it has burned its way into my mem ory. I felt a death-like pallor creeping into my face, and know it was with diffi culty that I was able to breathe through my clenched teeth. Again and again I read the note — trying to persuade my self that it was as cold and formal as my own. But I saw the truth as I had not known it before, and every word brought a stinging reproach. The bit ter and estranged feeling, which had been corroding my heart for months, all left me, and I shook with a great, over whelming grief. At one moment I would resolve to write and try and undo what had been done ; but pride ruled the second thought, and I determined to abide by the consequences. ' Sho had allowed herself to give others too much reason to hope ;' I could not forget that, and again I said to myself, 'We could never h? happy together.' If I had known then, as I did afterward, how much I was loved; how much a poor, tired henrt was crying out in bitter anguish against my unreasonable action and cruel words, perhaps I should not have been a bach elor to-day. " A half-year passed, and I was a full fledged lawyer. I had banished from my thoughts as much as possible all painful reminiscences, and turned my attention to the present and the future. But, with all my efforts to keep myself from becoming disagreeably melancho ly, I felt that all the years to come would be wanting in what makes life fullest of joy and fraught with manliest deeds. " I had settled down in a thrifty place and formed a partnership with an attor ney some years my senior. I had been in town only a few days and began to look about me for a client, when a tele gram came. ' Daisy may not live till morning. Come ! ' was what I read. I was on the next train, and at midnight was left alone with the dying woman. I could not live with this wasting grief in my heart, darling,' she whispered. I had not the strength nor courage to wear out this fever which fastened itself upon me. I wanted to see you just this once before saying good-by to all.' "It was too late that I rained kisses and tears upon her cold lips and cheeks, and whispered, 'Forgive.' She only smiled with a beautiful light in her eyes, and pressed her cold lips to mine in a last long good-by. I raised her slightly from the pillow, as her friends gathered around weeping, and then laid her head gently back, for her beau tiful spirit had left us. " This is why I am sometimes sad, Mrs. Steele." The "jolly fellow," as she had called him at the beginning of his story, took up his hat and walked deliberately away, leaving the bright eyed little woman to have her cry out by herself. The Building of Homes. Double doors — folding or sliding, are a great social "institution." By them two rooms may be thrown into one. A good broad hall becomes in summer an extra room. The air circulates. There i 3 a freedom, an openness about the house, which give 3an air of superiority to even very humble dwellings. The superiority is real, too. If we invite a few friends for the evening, it is not nec essary to confine them to the "parlor," but the doors are thrown wide open, our guests will fill parlor and hall and sitting room and kitchen, perhaps, and yet all are one company, for the broad doors being opon the whole house is thrown together. Music sounds through such a house delightfully, and poople have a good time and love to come, because it is so cheerful and social ; even a fu neral loses much of its stiffness, so op pressive in the little isolated rooms, if broad halls and doorways connect the mourning company of neighbors in one group. Another point in our home building which we too often overlook is the exposure of the principal living and sleeping rooms to the direct influence of the sun. The effect of the sunlight is best gained when the house stands with its corners toward the cardinal points, for thus the sun shines with considerable power on a,ll sides of the house every clear day in the summer, and yet his power is broken, because at noonday the rays strike two sides obliquely, and very soon leave the southeastern side in the shade. Wo should not forget that the sunshine is healthgiving ; dampness and shade, if slightly in excess, injure the liealth of both men and animals. One thing more is the importance of having some provision for fire in the chambers. We build for health and not for sickness, and I do not hesitate to say that many a family mourns the loss of a member simply because the sleeping room oould not be easily heated. The best mode of heating no doubt is by an open fire of some kind. It is very easy in building to make open fire-places in at least those chambers through which the chimney passes. These may be loosely bricked up, if desirable, but so that the flues may be promptly opened in case of illness. Chimneys ought to be built, with sep arate flues for each principal fire. In that case the chamber fireplaces need never havo their flues bricked up, but constantly open, thus affording the best ventilation at oil times. Of course open fireplaces are not economical of fuel, but in the chambers fire is seldom wanted, and stoves may be tised, if preferred. As to economy of fuel, builders, as well as architects and proprietors, either fre quently overlook one important fact, or they do not look at it, that is, that the warmest part of any room is farthest from the floor ; so if we make our rooms teu or eleven feet high, we must heat the air in all that upper part be Lore a persou hitting at v table begins to feel at all v arm, unless he is where he gets radia tion from tlie stovo or open tire. Low ceilings effect the greatest economy of fuel, and even mako open fires econom ical as compared with stoves and high ceiling. Notwithstanding that open fires always make good ventilation, while rooms or houses warmed with furnaces and stoves usually have poor ventilation, and often are oppressive, with a stale, nauseous odor, like the dormitory of an orphan asylum. Nine feet is, I think, an extreme height for the ceiling of au ordinary country house, say one in which the largest single room is not more than twenty feat square, or of equivalent area. For houses with rooms of medium size, eight feet is high enough. Beside, there are other numerous considerations which tend to the saving of fuel, and, at tho same time, increase the healthfulness and comfort of a home. Some of these uro the material of the walls, their impenetrability to air and moisture, "deafening" of the floors which adds greatly to their warmth, good joiner work about windows and doors, etc. — A Farmer, in American Agriculturist. President Harrison's Charge. Many of our old readers can recall the gloom cast over the nation by tho death of President Harrison. He was the first President who had died in office. His administration had endured but "one littlo month." It waa reported that he had been killed by the hordes of politicians who beset him day and night, clamoring for offices. His successor, Vice President Tyler, was unknown to the country, and there were many fears that the Whigs would not gather the fruits of their great political victory. Newspapers appeared in mourning lines, churches and public buildings were draped with emblems of woe, and clergymen preached funeral discourses. It was a day of great mourning in the nation. The report that the politicians had killed the President had a basis of fact. The importunities had so overtaxed hi 3 physical powers that he was unable to resist an attack of pneumonia. He was an early riser, and used to go to market. The spring was cold and stormy, but the President would not wear an overcoat. One morning ho was wet by a siiower, but refused to change his clothes. Pneumonia seized him the next day. Washington life, with its late hours and ravenous office-seekers, had en feebled the old man accustomed to the simple life and early hours of his plain Ohio home. He became delirious. His broken ex pressions showed that the politicians had overburdened him. "My dear madam," he would say, " I did not direct that your husband should be turned out. I did not know it. I tried to prevent it." "It is wrong !" he exclaimed at another time. "I won't consent ; it is unjust." - These applications— will they never cease ? " His last words seemed addressed to his successor. Clearing his throat, he said with distinctness, "Sir, I wish you to understand the true principles of the Government. I wish them carried out. T ask nothing more." Deliberate with caution but act with decision ; and yield with graciousness or oppose with firmness. PARRY'S VOIAGE. One of the Mont Remarkable of Arctic ■ Expeditions* [Prof. Richard A. Proctor.] . In 1827 Sir Edward Parry was com missioned by the English Government to attempt to reach the North pole. A large reward was promised in case he succeeded, or even if he could get with in five degrees of the North pole. The plan which he adopted seemed prom ising. Starting from a port in Spitz bergen, he proposed to travel as far northward as possible in sea boats, and then, landing upon the ice, to prosecute his voyage by means of sledges. Few narratives of Arctic travel are more in teresting than that which Parry has left of this famous " boat and-sledge " ex pedition. The voyagers were terribly harassed by the difficulties of the way ;• and, after a time, that most trying of all Arctic experiences, the - bitterly-cold wind which comes from out the dreadful north, was added to their trials. "Yet still they plodded steadily onward, tracking their way over hundreds of miles of ice with .the confident expecta tion of at least attaining to the eighty fifth parallel, if not to the pole itself. But a most grievous disappointment was in store for them. Parry began to notice that the astronomical observation, by which in favorable weather he esti mated the amount of their northerly - I progress, showed a want of correspond ence with the actual rate at which they were traveling. At first he could hardly believe that there was not some mis i take ; but at length the unpleasing con ! viction was forced upon him that the : whole ice-field over which he and his companions had been toiling so pain fully was setting steadily southward be fore the wind. Each day the extent of this set became greater and greater, un til, at length, they were actually carried as fast toward the south as they could travel northward. Parry deemed it useless to continue the struggle. There were certainly two chances in his favor. It was possible that the north wind might cease to blow, and it waa also possible that the limit of the ice miglit sooa be reached, aid that his boats might travel easily northward upon the open sea beyond. But he had to consider the exhausted state of his men, and tha great additional danger to which they were subjected by the mov abiti nature of the ice-iields. If the ice should break up, or if heavy and long e jntinued southerly winds should blow, they nii^ht have found it very dif ficult to regain their port of refuge in Spitzbergen befo/e winter set in or their stores were exhausted. Beside there were no signs of water in the direction they had been taking. The water-sky of Arctic regions can be recognized by the experienced seaman long before the open sea itself is visible. On every side, however, there were the signs of widely extended ice-iields. It seemed, therefore, hopeless to persevere, acd Parry decided on returning with all possible speed to the haven of refuge prepared for the party in Spitzbergen. He had succeeded in reaching the high est northern latitudes ever yet attained by man. The most remarkable feature of this expedition, however, is not the high latitude which the party attained, but the strange circumstance which led to their discomfiture. What opinion are we to form of an ocean at once wide and deep enough to float an ice-field which must have been 30,000 or 40,000 square miles in extent? Parry had travelled upward of 300 miles across the field, and we may fairly suppose that he might have traveled forty or fifty miles farther without reaching open water; also that the field extended fully fifty miles on each side of Parry's northerly track. That the whole of so enormous a field should have floated freely before the Arctic winds ia indeed an astonish ing circumstance. On every side of this floating island there must havo been seas comparatively free from ice ; and, could a stout ship have forced its way through these seas, the latitudes to which it could have reached would have been far higher than those to which Parry's party was able to attain. For a moment's consideration will show that the part of the great ice-field where Parry was compelled to turn back must have been floating in far higher lati tudes when he first set out. He reck oned that he had lost more than 100 miles through the southerly motion of the ice-field, and by this amount, of course, the point he reached had been nearer the pole. It is not assuming too much to say that a ship which could have forced its way round the great float ing ice-field would certainly have been able to get within four degrees of the pole. It seems to us highly probable that she would even have been able to sail upon open water to and beyond the pole itself. Sunflowers for Fuel The Emerson International has an article headed corn for fuel, and gives an extract from the Jackson Republic en showing that for heating purpose* corn is much cheaper than wood. We have always been of the opinion that a much more economical fuel than wood can be grown by prairie farmers, but much doubt if corn can be made a success in this country. We recol lect seeing an article some time ago recommending the growth of the com mon garden sunflower for purposes of fuel, and at the time were much impressed with the arguments advanc ed. We believe that some such rapidly growing and bulky vegetable as the sunflower is the *rue solution of the fuel question in this country* The seed of sunflower abounds in oil of every combustible nature, and the stalks burn freely. An immense quantity can be grown to the acre, and the* plant is thoroughly adapted to our soil and climate. Mr. Wm. Cowan of this place had a patch a few years ago that exactly resembled a grove of young forest trees. The stalks were stout and straight as young poplars, and shot up to a height of from twelve to fifteen feet.— Ndsonvilk Mountain eer. Old Fashioned Home*. We confess to a love for old-fash ioned houses. The walls of the famil iar rooms are hung with tender and pleasant thoughts, as with rich wrought tapestries. The roofs are coated with the brown colors and gray mosses of past days. The whole house carries in its aspect the marks of sea soned character. Do not destroy it, then, to make room for a modern edifice of brick and mortar. Bather, restore and improve it. A slight alter ation of an old gable, the pulling down or pushing back of a roof line, an extending of a porch, a bit of lattice work erected here or there, some choice shrubbery, the laying out of a sinuous path and bordering it with early and late flowers — a few little things like these will marvelloully alter the looks of an old house out wardly, and compel its occupant to continue his loving work till the whole is rejuvenated. It is not glaring col ors in paint or smart and portentious additions which these old houses need, so much as the gentle but firm and intelligent hands of taste. If every one who had an old house to restore would simply follow his own heart's desire in such matters, he would make it a picturesquely inviting object in spite of himself. It is rest one desires to find in a horne — not ostentatious dis play. President and Mrs. Polk. President Polk was nearly 50 years of age when he was inaugurated, and was no novice in public life, having served for fourteen consecutive years in Con gress, and for two years as Governor cf the State of Tennessee. He was a spare man, of unpretending appearance and middle stature, with a rather small head, a full, angular brow, penetrating dark gray eyes, and a firm mouth. His bail', which he wore long and brushed back behind his ears, was touched with silver when he entered the White House, and gray when he left it. He was a worthy aud well-qualified member of the fra ternity of Freemasons and a believer in the creed of the Methodists, although, out of deference to the religious opinions of his wife, he attended worship with her at the Bey. Mr. Sprole's Presbyterian Church. Calm, cold and intrepid in his moral character, he was ignorant of the bsauty of moral uprightness in the con duct of public affairs — ambitious of power, and successful in the pursuit cf ii;. He was very methodical and remark ably industrious, always finding time to listen patiently to the stories of those who came to him as petitioners of pat ronage and place. But his arduous labors impaired his health and shortened his life. Before his term of office had iiaif expired, his friends were painel to witness his shortened and enfeebled step, aiid the air of languor and exhaustion which sat upon him. MrSi Polk was a strict Presbyterian, and she shunned what she regarded as "the vanities of the world" whenever it was possible for her to do so. She did not possess the queenly grace of Mrs. Madison, or the warm-hearted hos pitality of Mrs. Tyler, but she presided over the White House with great digni ty. She was of medium height and size, with very black hair, dark eyes and complexion, and formal yet graceful de portment. At the inauguration of her husband, she wore a black-silk dress, a long black- velvet cloak with a deep cape, trimmed with fringe and tassels, and a purple-velvet bonnet, trimmed with a satin ribbon. She would not permit dancing at the White House, but sho did all in her power to render the ad ministration of Mr. Polk popular. One morning a lady found her reading. ' ' I have many books presented to me by the writers," said she, " and I try to read thorn all. At present this is not possi ble ; but this evening the author of this book dines with the President, and I could not be so unkind a3 to appear wholly ignorant and unmindful of his gift." At one of her evening receptions a gentleman remarked : "Madam, you have a very genteel assemblage to-night. " "Sir," replied Mrs. Polk, with perfect good humor, but very significantly, "I never have seen it otherwise." — The Atlantic. Edwin Booth. Edwin Booth, when not on the stage, is a great smoker. He never drinks any alcoholic liquors. Tea is his only stim ulant. He never attends late dinners or suppers, and never has an "out.' After acting he is very much depressed and likes to lie abed to recuperate during much of the next day. In the parlance of the day, Edwin Booth is a "re formed" man. From the time Junius Brutus Booth — his father — died in 1852, until the assassination of President Lin coln by his brother John, in 1865, Edwin drank and drank hard. During the greater portion of that time the three most prominent, most talented and most dissipated young men upon the Ameri can stage were Wm. Goodall, H. A. Perry and Edwin Booth. Billy Goodall and Harry Perry are both dead — victims of drink. The terrible act of his brother John roused Edwin from folly. It is generally believed that John Booth, the assassin, was a very intemperate young man, but such was not the case. It was Edwin who "tossed the ruby" — John's weakness was women. From the gay, royatering, reckless young madcap of twenty years ago, Edwin Booth is now, and has long been, one of the soberest and gravest of men. He is naturally of a morbidly melancholic temperament, and, sinco his change in habits, he de lights in nothing; but his professional duties on the stage, and the companion ship of his family in the seclusion of hifl home. Upon the street or in niingli. ;j among men he is habitually wrapped in gloom. That he does not attend dinner parties and the like is not strange to those who know him, for he does not care for society, and never did — not even in his youth. His resting the day is simply a custom observed by nearly all great actors. Celebrities like Mr. Booth, when in their own country, seldom at tend rehearsals — the only daily dnty they may have. Such work is attended to for them by a subordinate, in the same manner as John McCullough used to rehearse for Mr. Forrest, in the clos ing years of that great tragedian's life, and as Mr. James Cathcart did for the late Charles Kean. —Exchange. The Cheapest Medicine. All advice as to the care of our bodies is wise which reminds us to heed its nat ural demands. Disease is always caused by some direct or indirect sin against nature. The Occident well says : "About the cheapest medicine that moi tals can use is sleep. It is a sov ereign remedy for weakness, it relieves languor, it cures restlessness, uneasiness and irritability ; it will remedy headache, teethache and backache and heartache ; it cures nervousness ; and will make heavy burdens seem light and great trials look very small. "When weary we should rest; when exhausted we should sleep. To resort to stimulants is suicidal ; what weary men need is sleep ; what exhausted women need is sleep. The lack of sleep causes neuralgia, paralysis and insanity. Many a person dies for want of sleep, and the point where many a sufferer turns his back from the very gates of death to the open path of life is where he sinks into sleep. Of almost every sick man it may be said, as of Lazarus, ' If he sleep, he shall do well.' " Carrying Trade of the United States. In 1821 85.7 per cent, of our imports and exports were carried in American vessels ; in 1841, the percentage had fal len to 83.3 ; in 1851, to 72.7; in 1861, to 6J.2 ; in 1871, to 31.8 ; and from 23 per cent in 1869 to 17.6 per cent, in 1880. THE FAMILY DOCTOB. Constipation may be removed by drinking a tumbler of cold water on rising in the morning. To obtain a good night's sleep, sponge the entire length of the spine with hot water for ten or fifteen minutes. For chapped skin, take of oxide oi zinc, one dram; lard, two ounces. It is also good for any kind of sores. For Neuralgia. — Take a good hand ful of the common field or Canada this tle, pour two quarts of boiling water on, and boil down to three pints ; take a wineglassful three times a day before meals. The following is recommended as a cure for neuralgic headache : Squeeze the juice of a lemon into a small cup of strong coffee. This will usually afford immediate relief in neuralgio headache. Tea ordinarily increases neuralgic pain, and ought not to be used by persons affected with it. To curb corns, says Dr. Footed Health Monthly, take one measure of coal or gas tar, one of saltpeter, and one of brown sugar ; mix well. Take a piece of an old kid glove and spread a plaster on it the size of the corn and apply to the part affected ; bind on and leave two or three days and then remove, and the corn will come with it. Each inhalation of pure air is returned loaded with poison ; 150 grains of it added to the atmosphere of a bedroom every hour, or 1,200 grains during the night. Unless that poison-laden atmos phere is diluted or removed by a con stant current of air passing through the rooms, the blood becomes impure, then circulates sluggishly, accumulating and pressing on the brain, causing frightful dreams. Ingrowing Toe Nails. — To cure in growing toe nails, one authority says, put a small piece of tallow in a "spoon, heat it until it becomes very hot, and pour on the granulations. Pain and ten derness arc relieved at once, and in a few days the granulations are all gone, the diseased parts diy and grow destitute of all feeling, and the edge of the nail ex posed so as to admit of being pared away without any inconvenience. Bad cooking is responsible for a large amount of ill-health, and so is rapid eating. Few persons chew their food perfectly fine before swallowing it. They have, so they think, not time to eat as they should, and so they swallow something and go about their work. A writer says : Three digestions are known to physiologists — mouth digestion, stoma ch digestion, bowel digestion. To make the first complete, the food should be ground fine by the teeth and mixed with the saliva 'and nothing else ; then, and not till then, it is ready to be in troduced into the stomach, and go through the second process. The stom ach is a patient, long-suffering organ, bat it cannot always do the work of the teeth and its own too, and when, from sheer inability to meet the unjust de mands forced on it, dyspepsia with all its annoying train takes possession, the hapless victim can only mourn over his unwise haste and repent of his omissions when it may be too late to repair them. Children especially need to be instructed as to the necessity of thorough masti cation of their food, and the habit formed in them of chewing it fine and taking ample time to eat. It is an old German adage that "more people dig their own graves with their teeth than with spades," and verily it would seem so, if we could look at the immense number of dyspeptics, rheu matic and gouty individuals, creeping through life in pain and wretchedness. Yet it is impossible to indue 3 even think ing people to control their appetites, and to eat such things and at such times as nature shows them is necessary and right. Dr. Hall declares unhesitatingly that it is wrong to eat without an appe tite ; for it shows that there is no gastric juice in the stomach, and that nature does not need food, and not needing it, there being no fluid to receive and act upon it, it remains there only to putrify, the very thought of which should be sufficient to deter any man from eating without an appetite to the remainder of his life. If a tonic is taken to whet the appetite, it is a mistaken course, for its only result is to cause one to eat when already an amount has been eaten be yond what the gastric juice is able to prepare. The object to be obtained is a large supply of gastric juice ; whatever fails to accomplish that essential object, fails to have any efficacy toward the euro of dyspeptic diseases. The formation of gastric juice is directly proportioned to the wear and tear of the sys tem, which it is to be the means of supplying, and this wear and tear can only take place as the result of exercise. The efficient remedy for dys peptics is work— out-door work — benefi cial and successful in direct proportion rs it is agreeable, interesting and profit able. The Serious and the Funny. It is very curious how intermingling are the curious and the funny things of life. Even at a funeral something may happen which will make you smile tlirough your tears, and at a wedding something may make you weep in the midst of smiles. Hood's verses are won derfully true : When I reflect with serious sense, While years and years roll on, How Boon I may be Hummoned hemce — There's cook a calling " John !" Our live 3 are built ho frail and poor, On sand and not on rocks ; Wo'ro hourly standing at death's door — There's gome one double knocks ! All human days have settled terms; Our fates we canuot force. This flesh of mine will feed the worms — They've come to lunch, of course. And when my body's turned to clay, And dear friends hear my knel). Oh. let them give a High and say — " I hear the upstairs bell !'' The Home. Oh ! these snowy days of shut-up country life, when little restless feet cannot go out-of doors for drift and driving storms. It is a time that every mother of small children knows, and many are the devices to keep down noise anil yet have a spirit of content ment among the little ones. I found great trouble with one little girl when brushing and combing her hair until I adopted the plan of letting her play with the pins in the toilet pin cushion, bidding her make a letter of the alphabet, and then another, until a word was spelled, and by that time the tangles were all smoothed. Ironing with a cold-handled sad-iron is very fascinating work, and a small box turn ed sidewise and made into a doll-house is an amusement in which children of both sexes can participate. Little Three-year-old likes a box of sand, or. better still, a lot of blocks from the work-shop with which to V.uild houses, so early do they learn to imitate grown up children. If well wrapped up, tlu-re is nothing so health-giving as a rim out-of-doors, and if the children of a house hold have each some special department of the stables to attend to, it will inculcate habits of regularitj and attention and prove a good dis cipline. Even littlo children can, except in severe weather, feed fowls and in the sunny part of the winter's day look after the domestic aninwilsof their household. USEFUL HINTS. To keep seeds from the depredations of mice, mix some pieces of camphor with them. Camphor placed in trunks or drawers will prevent mice from doing them injury. To keep your knives and forks from rnsting, make a flannel bag, and stitoh from top to bottom, an inch and a half apart, a dozen times, making a recepta cle for each. Roll and keep in a dry place. A teaspoonfuXi of black pepper will prevent gray or buff linen from spotting, if stirred into the water in which they are washed. It will also prevent the colora running, when washing black or colored cambrics, or muslins, and the water is not injured by it, but just as soft as before the pepper was put in. It is always best to wash flannels, calico dresses and aprons before the white clothes are wet, especially if the day is cloudy and threatening. Then if it rains the white clothes can be rubbed, scalded and left in the rinsing water, and it is a small matter next day to wring them out, blue them, and hang them out to dry. To make the hair stay in orimp, take 2 cents' worth of gum arabic, and add to it just enough boiling water to dis solve it. When dissolved, add enough alcohol to make rather thin. Let this stand all night, and then bottle it to prevent the alcohol from evaporating. This put on the hair at night alter it ia done up in paper or pins will make it stay in crimp the hottest day, and is perfectly harmless. One can have the hands in soap suds with soft soap without injury to the skin, if the hands are dipped in vinegar oi- lemon juice immediately after. The acids destroy the corrosive effects of the alkali, and make the hands soft and white. Indian meal and vinegar or lem on juice used on hands when roughened by cold or labor will heal and soften them. Hub the hands in this ; then wash off thoroughly and rub in glycer ine. Those who suffer from chapped hands in the winter will find this com forting. Most persons, when they come in from the rain f put their umbrellas in the rack with the handle upward. They should put it downward, because when the han dle is upward the water runs down in side to the place where the ribs are joined to the handle, and cannot get out, but stays rotting the cloth and rusting the metal until slowly dried away. The wire securing the ribs soon rusts and breaks. If placed the other end up the water readily runs off, Jn removing grease spots from carpete, make a lather of hard soap; use only cold, soft water and rub the soap from the carpet with a clean dampened cloth. If you have a screw rusted into wood, or a bolt that will not readily turn, pour on it a little kerosene, and let it remain. In a little while it will penetrate the interstices so the screw can be easily started. Never sot the lamp upon a red table cover ; if you can not find time to make a green lamp mat, put a piece- of green card-board under the lamp and you will find the reflection upon your work much more agreeable to the eyes than that from the red cover. Thb litrle boxes of thin wood which are used to carry butter or lard in, whoa covered with cambric or silk, make pretty work-boxes. Small peach baskets, paint ed add lined wirh a bright color, are ornamental and convenient, besides affording the satisfaction which comes from making something from nothing. To make lavender water: Best English oil of lavender, four drachms; oU of cloves, half a drachm; musk, five groins; best spirits of wine, six ounces. Mix the oil of lavender with a little of the spirit first, then add the other ingredi ents, and let it stand, being kept well corked for at the least two months before it is used, shaking it frequently. A lady writes to a contemporary as follows: A wing for brushing the smoke from lamp chimneys and the cinders from the burners is very convenient; they re move all the grease, and there will be no drops standing upon the chimneys, like water on a duck's back, and so will need no wiping, which ia a saving of time; a chimney, as you all know, needs so much wiping after one commences. I wash mine with soap, to remove all grease, in the dish water; before I put in my dishes ; rinse in the rinsing water and all is done. Soap never has made my chim neys brittle, perhaps it is because it ia removed quickly ; I never havo found that soap made glass brittle. Amuoxia is very useful. It cleans gentlemen's coat-collars and felt hats nicely. Dilute with water one-half, use a cloth same color, rub well, using sev eral clean cloths if very rauoh soiled. A few drops in abath water, especially if hard water, is refreshing and purifying. It cleans glassware, silverware, windows, paints and bottles beautifully and easily, [t takes up the grease spots from tlie floors. It is good for a etimulast to house-plants; one teaspoonful to one gallon of water once a week. Put a few drops in a basin of water, wash your hair-brushes in it, aud see what it is good for. It is good for catarrhal cold, and ft tings of insects. Inhale for cold*;, aud apply to affected part in stings. Charles Carroll's Patriotism. Among the signatures to tho Declara tion of Independence is that of Charles Carroll, of Carrolton. Few are awaro how the distinguishing word came to be added to the name. Charles Carroll was among the fore most to sign the Declaration of Inde pendence. All who did bo were believed to have devoted themselves and their families to the furies. . As ho set his hand to the instrument, the whisper ran round the Hall of Congress, " There go some millions of property !" And, there being many of the same namo, he heard it said, "Nobody will know what Carroll it is," as no one signed more than his name ; and one at hia elbow, addressing him, remarked : 11 You'll get clear — there are several of the name — they will never know which to take." "Not so," he replied, and instantly added his residence, " of Carrollton." ' Champagne. They say that we drink about 10,000, -i 009 bottles of what is regarded as French ■ champagne wines in a year in the United ►States, and the estimate for some other ' countries is: England, 5,000,000; Rus sia, 2,000,000; France, 2,000,000; Ger ' many, 1,500,000.