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Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, March 27, 1881, Image 3

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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.

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