. I 3T OflT OF INTERNATIONAL PRiSS ASSOCIATION. CHAPTBll K was strongly tempted to rush off home and dress himself and go iff to the Hall after Dick, but he resist ed the temptation with a hopnl^ts feeling that he , would gain nothing by It, that he would j i only vex himself by the sight of the other fellow philan dering after the girl he had loved all bis life. ’She ll find him out after a bit," he said to himself, ’’and then j she'll know how to value a man who | means every word ay. and more than every word—that he says.” Tn the meantime Diek Aylmer went | on and turned In at the hospitably j open gate of Oravelclgh Hall, with tne assured air of one who knows before hand what his welcome would he. “Is Miss Dlir.sdale at home?” he asked of Barbara, who came to the door In an swer to his knock, "I am not sure, sir,” Barbara an swered. But she may bo in the gar den I’ll find out, sir, in a minute.” Mhc disappeared again, leaving him there, and then a man ran out from the side of the house, to take the horse’s head; and before Barbara ap peared again, Dick heard a light foot step on the gravel, and Dorothy her self. wearing a blue dress and a white sailor hat. came into sight. ‘‘Oh! Mr. Harris,” she cried, in such a Joyous tone that Dick's heart fairly thumped In response. "I had no idea that you " if nrir. I nuuuci UUtt li. nfl'' I mu* , not hear the wheels. Come and be in troduced to my aunt; site is here, round this shrubbery—we always sit here* in the hot weather; the night of the sea help* to keep one cool. Auntie,” she continued, not giving him time to say a word, "this is Mr. Harris, whom I met at Lady Jane's, who brought me home that day, you know;” then, turn ing to Dick, she said, "This is my aunt, Miss Dimsdale.” I am very pleased to see you, Mr. Harris,” said Miss Dimsdale, holding out her hand in a frank amt gracious welcome. Miss Dimsdale had the somewhat stiff manners of th** last generation, or, 1 might say, of the first half of the century, but in her I own house she was always more genial than in any other place, and Dick j Aylmer shook hands with her and felt well, that a very fate was fol lowing him in bis acquaintance with .Dorothy Strode, for here lie was again forced, as it were, to lie known as Har ris, when all the time his real name was Aylmer, and how was he to tell the old lady that some one or other had made a mistake that is, without giving himself the look of an impos ter? Like lightning there Hashed through his mind an idea that if Lady Jane iiad mistaken him for somebody else, she had really no guarantee of liis respectability, and with equal rap idity there shot through his brain a remembrance of his uncle's letter, his mirte's threats and his uncle's unyield ing unbendable yes. I must he hon est and finish up the sentence as Dick thought it—his unde's unyielding, un heiuiable, devil of a temper. And so, not from any contrivance or wish of }iis own. Dick, in that awkward mo Tin iii, i*• t iin- iiilsuiKit jia.si. anu a. lowed the two ladies at (Iraveleigh Hall to believe that his name was, as they had imagined. Man is. In behavior he was very judlidoun; he talked more to the aunt than to the liltin' although his eyes followed her wherever she went In a wav which told Mian Dimsdale all too plainly what had brought him there. But, judging by his serene and sober ronvei .it Ion with Miss Ibmsdale, you mi gilt have th> light that Dick was sixty instead Oi slx-and-twenty, and Mtsa Dimsdale wa., charmed with him "Suih a thoughtful, sensible fellow." ahe said to herself as she watched him presently go across the lawn with Dorothy to see her Persian kittens. Just at that time the very pride ami Joy of her heart. Ay. but men were ib reiver* ever, sometimes quite UU ronsi ions though It !*• \t that mo Alt ui Db'h wa saving to Dorothy. “And l thought the week would never gel ovet ihe very longest week I ever lived.M "Then why didn’t you ram* be fore?" he .sakeJ with inuo ■ at au ili* it) "Pom e-fure1 tbit you »*lil that I wa.n t t,. I IB* till this week h# an •acred ttesnie* t didn't know I wasn’t -ne that I mightn t «> l bun died oil g*ek an 'top when I t|H *u«u t»b no. I didn’t want to rue |K* rl»i ? that "Ijm you ofien *«< handled ant «**• * •ad m«>p when v *n *>• l# '<*11 * poo*.' ' Ihirothy t i i|r«t temurg!) pad With a *a ' - I * i gt * i' k't *r < ••Vfo. I d.mt," h» replied With laugh lint 1 ha..' kn i* I »h*i r • a* i» bat* a *'.# i».i >> i i • *pd I del* t till to hu t I lw ■ "A*d »«4 ha*. » * I Uriah Van' Pa* t*v parttcaliMir nt t* >x »h< a*td a* ah* *p*pad iv >1*-*r raadiai •aid th« atabl* |Mb*k pot hta hand o«> to «*»• th< dMW a>*o and «» doing »***« h* p,r» • t tPtnb ' aaW h in a dh> *•• ouaiy Vanda* ton* whbk a •**•» *'Hir uniii, iiini uiru Dorothy laughed a little, and pushed the door open. “See, this Is my Lorna I)oono," file ; said, going into the n irest stall, and showing him a hall of white fluff coiled up in a deep bed of hay. “Isn't she lovely?" Dick Aylmer groaned within him self; he had fallen from a paradise of tenderness to the comparative per sonality of a eat -commonplace even though It was a Persian eat which j bore the name of Lorna Doone, and she loved It. It was a beautiful cn without doubt, and It turned Its head hack at the sight of Dorothy, and purred loudly, and with evident satisfaction. “I want to know Just what you think of her.” said Dorothy to Dick - “truly and honestly. Don't flatter me about her. Lorna and I don't like flattery we want to know the truth about ourselves the brutal truth If you will, hut truth at any price. Now what, do you think of her?" “I can't tee her properly," answered I)iek. “Ivorna dearie, get up and show yourself off,'' said Dorothy to the eat; then finding that the great white Per- ] sian did not move, she turned her out of her bed, ami took the four kits Into . her own lap. “I think she Is lovely.” said Dick, j i aii ♦•mil iii'iiib mac. "Immense." Dorothy answeted, ‘‘and a great beauty too." By this litrie iJjrk liad begun to tickle l/orna Boone's ear. and that lady began to respond after the man- j ner of cats when they are not shy— j that is to say, she had put her two j forepaws upon his knee as he sat on the bed of hay. and was vigorously rubbing her checks, first one side and then the other, against bis hand. "She has taken to you,” cried Do rothy gladly. "Of course she has; I»rna Boone knows a good tiling when she sees it," he answered, laughing. "Besides, why shouldn't she take to me?" "Some people don’t like cats,” said Dorothy, "especially men." She had not forgotten how, the very last time he was in the house, David Stevenson had kicked her favorite out of his way, not brutally or to hurt j her—for David, whatever his faults, I was not a brute—but because be was j so jealous of Dorothy that he could :nui good naturedly he foulil ufTonl to lie good natured, fur he hub realized what thli Kiri's real feelings for some one" wete. "For my jiari. I must say I've gut a liking for a cat. tun I should hardly a beauty like this with ordinary ' ats. She Is not only a beau ty lit look at. hut she Is .'111101111) af fectionate. and and and she'* yours. , you know." •The te.i |s waiting, MDs Dorothy " \ said Itnrbnru. appearing at the door just at that moment I "tome, said Dorothy gen’ty. . ClIU'TKit VI •> man .. 11 and nee you I .1 I ! 1 I I. I I] when tie tuab her that af‘erns.11 i »hc •pawned J*' : tie-debt y oth tr. "I’ll walk down with rinooks pres ently." "Didn't want a lift, you know.” he explained to Snooks, who in polite so ilety was known as Lord William Veryl, "but I did want to find out where old Dick was going. Hut Dick | was ready for tne, and as close as wax." "Ye*. I know tried it on myself with him the other day." said Snook* reflectively. "Dick informed me he was making a careful study of mare’s- . nest.; for the benefit of the British As:- J r notation.' (To lie continued > Hut ley »•*«! %rnol«l. Ih-an Farrar records in his Men 1 Have Known" an iimusIhr and perfect- | ly Rood nature.! etort which Mr. Mat thew Arnold provoked from I’rofec -or i Huxley, for the licit t apprecln:ion ot i which it may h* udited that the mwc. i ne-s and liRltt" nt which Mi Vrnoid w rote were excmpUtit d In his ow n very «!!•> I ud t'ha: tut lilt UI..IUU**' l "111! tino-s met Itarle} la company with Matihew Arnold and nothing could .« mote delightful than the eonteraa' ion 1 cilcllid hy their run!rusted Individual ities I ruuientlter a walk which l once took with them truth through the pleasant uroO'ids of Fails IlHI, where I Mi Vruotda • ullage was Ho w.i a*ktllg It'ixle whether he liked RoluR out tn dinner parlies and the prof* - or i anawered that as a rule he did not like ! it at all Mt." .i d M< Vrnohl I rai'.ev Hhe it It u rather nice to meet people * *t»i. Yea r. piled Hupn h i : we ale not all • n U * • ei taa: lug * uptda aa you are*" I •!» tgoHdM*. It !• pnf< ul a J*.< Wi » duly to h. ■ p up tha spirtk* uf hl*> pattenl allow hep* i am* o Is flew 'he I*, l of u > t ell*,., nut ike t’ n* inn til Knurr tret a * »aw in *h‘ h *ut ageutent * .» ■ allied a Into* la* far V tn tit fctet • i p a ftigh ul a- «i*l«»i aa a result i uf whis h h»dh h«t legs had so hu .lupi i tilted N«l*i U*.n l said > .*• turgaott* a f* * gty* at*, i a aid Aw -Hug ’he p.«M l ii, . ■ , a >»i n*.d wu . ».**• r. t i eat n *g*.g i auhra Hare** uauha i flow l au*. h»fo.a « half, k a-w I eiute wilt a*«afa ergot a lady it I i*«M trek TALK AGE’S SEID10N.j "THE FIELD OF BLOOD'' LAST ' SUNDAYS SUBJECT. I rnm tl»«* Trxt» Arti l. Vornr 19. nt Fullowii: “Atii;i. That I v to Say, tha lh*I«! of lllooil'* Dountiiinl l'ulli uf tl»«* (iiinicitter I'otutrd Out. The money that Jmlas gave for nur rcnderlng Christ was used to purchase a graveyard. As the money was blood money, the ground bought by it was called in ihe Syriac tongue. "Acelda ma,” meaning "the field of blood." Well, there Is one word I want to write today over every race-course where wagers are staked, and every poolroom, and every gambling saloon, and every table, public or private, where men and women bet for sums of money, large or small, and that is a word incarnadined with ihe Ilf*’ of Innumerable victims - "Aceldama,” The gambling spirit, which is at all limes a stupendous evil, ever and anon sweeps over the country like an epi demic. prostrating uncounted thou sands. There has never been a worse attack than that from which all the villages, towns and cities are now suf fering. While among my hearer* and readers are those who have passed on into the afternoon of life, and the shadows are lengthening, and the sky crimsons with the glow of the setting sun, a large number of them are In early life ,and ilie morning Is coming down out of the clear sky upon them, and the bright air is redolent with spring blos soms, and the stream of life, gleam ing and glancing, rushes on between flowery banks, making music as It goes. Home of you are engaged in mer cantile concerns, a - clerk., and book 1 , , ni,r« soot vnllt' whole life lS to be passed in the exciting world of traffic. [ The sound of busy life stirs you ns the | drum stirs the fiery war horse. Olliers are in the mechanical arts, to hammer J and chiral your way through life, and j success awaits you. Home are prepar ing for professional life, and grand op portunities are before you; nay. some of you already have buckled on the armor. But, whatever your age and lulling, the subject of gambling about which 1 speak today is pertinent. Some years ago, when an association for the suppression of gambling was organized, an agent of the association came to a prominent citizen and asked him to patronize the society. Ha said: j "No, I can have no interest in such an j organization. I am in no wise affected by the evil.” At that very time his ; son, who was iiis partner in business, i was one of the heaviest players In a i famous gambling establishment. An- j other refused his patronage on the 1 same ground, not. knowing that his first book keeper, though receiving a salary of only $4,000. was losing from $'.o to $100 per night. The president of a j railroad company refused to patronize the institution, saying: “That society ; Is good for the defense of merchants, | but we railroad people are uot injured j by this evil;” not knowing that, at that very time, two of his conductors were spending three nights of each week at faro tables in New York. Di rectly or indirectly this evil strikes at the whole world. Gambling is the risking of some thing more or less valuable ill the hope of winning more than you hazard. The instruments of gaming may differ, but the principle is the same. The shuffling and dealing cards, however full cf temptation. Is not gambling unles stakes are put up; while, on the other hand, gambling may lie carried on without cards, or dice, or billiards, or a ten-pin alley. The man who bets on horses, or elections, on battles, the man who deals in "fancy" stocks, or j conducts a business .vhi li hazards ex- , tra capital, or goes into transactions without foundation but dependent, upou what men call link'' is a gambler. Whatever you expect to get from your neighbor without offering an equivalent in money, or tint--, or skill, is either the product of theft or earning. funic into the same category. Bazaars for the founding of hospital.',, .-a hoois and ehttrehes. conducted on the rattling system, coni" tr tier lite tattle denom ination. Ito t.*n. therefore u-u>uri::ie gambling necessarily witit any liistru ment. or game, or time, or place, or think the principle depends upon whether you play for a glass of win* or one hundred shares of railroad stock. Whether on patronize 'auc tion pool-;," Krenrh mutuals," or 'book-making." wlictlur you tiiploy faro ot billiards, rondo uttd kuuo. i irds or bagatelle, the very tdmr, but u hdKKirU I run Mgr* 44 lug ih.it rmutM «>4KK«TltlK do*u U11>UT 4 SIM lit Vt* of nirwii through many tniturlrt- Ml l.tttU’A*. I .IlKtIU'la 411*1 cllUud, h.MC lw*«*ti iddii ltd la it Hut n<»* tit** law* of th» arhuiw *-4vil world d* noun* * the »y<**« u* , I H* b**o««* of * > HMtt.w uf Kiiil.tin) #* 1141U n iyo i iii *•»» ftriby day that m» mb f t mat aiuad ib* r*it* >u t tt* I ib* t>*it mi l*«i uf It tfcia *4tua i try to«baf aVv RiiA> bmudfvda a# |*m* family ltbh’ m*b w feu lit i k« «4tib *fw Mai4u b of (In**f 4wll%nt In ' thin laud arw tyary day haing *ou 4ad ' bat tbr i-iib ibrtr (gticubuaa flay* a ! o«««l«f ihrtioah tb« tb*** I b H • iNttifd a tb*WNitt1 wilt* At a * «*# I 1 tw wfiton aaNia, And await itabliN At rot* **kt*« wuiwnI ft**a% tb* niaw^N nuH 1 tw tb* ttral W HHb wf »|f jAHAftH?f 1 bi Itt’lffft of tliid country reeks with sin. In some of those cities every third or fourth 'lOUae in many of the streets is a gain ing place, and it may be truthfully averred that each of our cities 13 cursed with this evil. Men wishing to gamble will find placed just suited to their capacity, not only in the underground oyster cellar, or at the table back of the curtain, covered with greasy cards, or ia the steamboat smoking cabin, where the bloated wretch with rings in Ills ear* deals out hl.s pack, and winks In the unsuspecting traveler- providing free drinks all around -but in glided ,*ar lors and amid gorgeous surroundings. This sin works ruin, first, by provid ing an unhealthful stimulant. Excite ment Is pleasurable. I'nder every sky and in every age men have sought It. We must at times have excitement. A thousand voice:: in our nature demand it. It Is right. It is healthful. It Is Inspiriting. It is a desire God-given, lint anything that first gratifies this appetite and hurls it back in a terrific reaction. Is deplorable and wicked. Look out for the agitation that, like a rough musician, in bringing out the tune plays so hard he breaks down the instrument! God never made a man strong enough to endure the wear and tear of gambling cxeitenienta. What dull work 1s plowing to the far mer when In the village saloon In on night he makes and lew* the value of a. summer harvest! Who will want to aril capes and measure nankeen and cut garments and weigh sue.tr, when in a night’s game lit makes and lot s, and makes again and loses again, the prof its of a season? John liorack was sent as a tncr. an tl!e agcn» from firemen to England and this country. After two years Ills em ployers mistrusted that nil was not right. He was a default r f ,r ?S7,0C0. It was found that h" had lost in Lom bard street, London, $29.00); in Fulton street, New York, $10,000, and In N?w Orleans, ?3,000. He was In prisoned. Inn afterwards evaped. and went into tb" gambling profession. Hr died In a lunatic asylum. This i t line Is grt ting its lever mid t many a mercantile house in our cities, and before I'.n ; down will conic the great establish ment, crushing r>'pu’alion, b me com fort and immortal souls. How It di verts and sinks capital may 1 e inferred from some authentic r,tat merit l>< fore us. The ten gaming houses that once were authorized in Paris passed through the banks yearly 321,000,000 francs. A young man in London, on romittg of age, received a fortune of one hun dred and twenty thouand dollars, and through gambling in three yvars w.is thrown on his mother for support. An only son went to Nf w Orleans. He was rich, intellectual and elegant in manners. His parents gave him. on his departure from home, their last blessing. The sharpers got hold of him. They (latte.cd him. They lured hint to the earning table and let him w'n almost * very time for a good while,. and flatted hfrn on lit • back and said, "First rati' player." Hut fully In their grasp, they fleec'd him, and his thirty thousand dollars was lost. Last of ail, he put up his watch and lost that. Then h" began to think of his home, and of his eld lather and mother, and wrote thus: ••*,ly beloved parents, you will doubt less feel a momentary Joy at the ns op tion of this letter from th" child of your bosom, on whom you have lav ished all the favms of vour declining years. Hat should a feeling of joy for i moment spring up in y ur hoarta. when you should have received this from m*1-cherish it not I have ftil'on deep, never to rise. Those gray hairs that T should have honored and’ pro tected I t all bring down in sorrow to the grave, r will not curse my destroy »r, but. oh. may God avenge the wrongs and impositions practised' upon the .-.nvv.iry. in a way that -i:all' best please him! Tills, my dear parents, is tlic last letter you will ever receive . ■ t i i i • i a * • • • ‘ ' ' » J • • 1 . • "ii i ' / s ra i v ' ness. It i« ray dying prayer. Lung before yon will have rr l ived thin from me. the i-old grave will hav dosed up on me “drover. Life to me is inaup portable l vannut, nay. I will not. suf fer the shame of having ruined you. forget and forgive is the dying prayer of yottr unfortunate son." The old la* tier earns to the pos“ Offlee, got the letter itnd fell to th • floor. They thought he was dead at lirat. hot they blushed bail, tin* ■*hp,. hair from bis brow and fann d him. lie had only fainted. "Aeeldama. the field "f blood!” \Vh"d thin.. ■ go wrong ut a guming hiblo they shout foul! foul!” Over all ties Milling tnbo>a of the vvor.tf I t ry out •*l>*nui! foul! fnliuitelv fpif "Olft stores ‘ are abundant thrwtigu oul these.in.rv HTth a boo* .ir knife, or vet* ut'! Iiiaehilut. or eoat, nr Nffltltil, theta gees a prlllt \t these Stores peo ple g«t st.uieihits* thrown m with tb ir puarhuM*. I: may be m l wawh. or w set of silver, v ring, or 4 farm Mharp war to *.’t off IH.4i.1lde gpotl' |t has Riled the land With Kefteaw artleles, 4R poi.ltion »r|IH bra*. (In*, r .■•»*• and despoiled the mot 11 »’Rw of the eotaai iutit and i» fuel matt!it* *• 4 IM ml of ttMlili rs III* fh uvh of (hat has not M1*me 4 • illtn* tu allow the world to have sit the mbvsott of itrw saint 1 of eh ..• A 1 bur | lobut op. ii*. and tusml th ‘have it is fv n.l list soots it lit# • thi hial# *rti i#4 »iv rntmUM*1 Kjmh Htiil*. ||i# rwi |m .*r* al «al«i(kitt* f‘m lu4<' Ui 1 «Ui ftift faff • i*l Mh utv-Mo*' »tt«l ihtl*»f |if»* !« (|*# uf **%..«:*' I to U. ftk* Ilk I# MUtUttf 4 flit #>»«« *1 Wit' fttMti J*#f ut III* t Ha til. t*t|t 11 |f-« *• >| Uiuttflk til# *>«*•.» {NHif M • In Ik u*4 I# *olUi« *tk*rv uf y* * H**j ’• t#« Ik 4*4 * * fur ti * ♦, * .* *4uftu« •m4 ** •*»*« ut y» *• 1* ,3* *iu ill#*i ’li 11 I* ii ill ri«.M | ( »f I »%» • inn l*4*» * 4M tfc« 1 444 riiiiMta M**t »IM ilk* i 4lUtlHg 4M | • *l% ft•* **f|* fa*4f4 § **« w h r. it yin m.iy 1,1 •’ ' ^ "n It. that a- far morality w ' you might a.; v/cli ho' ' "'l'n ’v f crack „f the bllilard hall or tfcr turn tlic dlro-hox. Ho you wtmdci thjj churches built. Ily.k:*-*1. or upl.»l*tci hv Siieh prone a- I hat co.lie » f lln.ire al a,el spiritual -leereplU de? The .UHI Hays: "I helped to buihl that horse of w.. hip. an.I 1 have it’ tnucU right thrr‘.» aa you havo;*’ and for on the devil Is right. We do not read that they had a lottery for building the 1 church at Corinth, or at Antioch, or for Retting up an embroidered surplice for St. Haul. All tli 1h I style ecclesiasti cal gambling. More than one man who In destroyed can say that tils Hint step on the wrong road was when he won something at a church fair. The gambling spirit has not stopped for any Indecency. There transpired In Maryland a lottery In which P<*op>p drew for lots in a burylng-ground The modern habit of betting about every thing is productive of immense mis chief. The most healthful and Inno cent amusements of yachting and base ball playing have been the on e aon of putting up excited and extravagant wagers. That which to many has been advantageous to body and mind, lias been to others the means of financial and moral loss. The custom h> Pern'" cloua lit the extreme, where scores of men In respectable life give themselves up to betting, now on this boat, now on that; now on this ball club, now on that. Betting that once was chiefly the accompaniment of the racecourse, is fast becoming a national habit, and in some circles any opinion advanced on finance or polities is accosted with the interrogation: “How much will you bet on that, sir."' This custom may make no appeal to slow, lethargic temperaments, but there are in the country ten ; of thousands of quid;, nervous, sanguine, excitable 4 li.mtioi r. . • 11» f - • til 111* IJlJOIlr | and their feet will soon take hold on death. For some month*, and perhaps for years, they will linger lu the moio polite ant! elegant circle of gamesters. ; but, after awhile their pathway will ; tome to the fatal plunge. 'lake warning! You are no stronger : than ten* of thousands who have by tills practice been overthrown. No young man in our cities can escape be ing tempted. Beware of the first begin nings! This read Is a down grade, and every instant increases the momentum. Launch not upon this treacherous sea. Splint hulks strew the beach. Ever lasting storms howl up and down, toss ing unwary craft into the Hell-gate. I speak of what I have seen with my own eyes. To a gambler’s deathbed there comes no hope, lie will probably die alone. His former associates come not nigh ills dwelling. When the hour comes. Ills miserable soul will go out of a miserable life into a miserable eter nity. As ilia poor remain:! pass the house where lie was ruined, old eom panions may look out for a momrtil and say ’’There goes the old carcase dead at last;” but they will not get up from the table. Let film down now into hia grave. Plant no tree to cant its shade there, for the long, deco, eternal gloom that settles there is shadow enough. Plant no "forget-me-nots” or eglan tines around the spot, for (lowers w< re not made to grow on such a blasted heath. Visit it not in the sunshine, for that would be mockery, but in the dismal night, when no stars are out, and the spirit of darkness comes down, horsed on the wind, then viiit Um grave of the gambler. NASAL CATARRH. There is no mori prevalent disease than catarrh of the nose passage*. The reason of this is not far to seek. It is mainly because the lining mem brane is subjected to cold air, hot air, iL’ii rm air il nut on,l *111 t i> cnres the atmosphere ran i xe.rt; aa«l no after a time brumes chronically In flamed and tbi. I.< lied. Uui is ail thin a serious malt r? To a certain extent yes. The ■ liicf office, iio ii rimed, of the Ir'erlor of :hc nose is to si rain and warm the air before puttying it into the lungs. To do lliis work effectually there are situate within e:i !i nostril three sets of bones (covered with mu cous membranes), which are railed up on tlteundves like scrolls. Thlough these scrolls It Is really that the air lias to pass. Hy far more ajr is mu* mined and strained than would oth erwise be possible. These I any s ■ ills Ule u -sochlled with the sense of , ujsdl, and lu some uuioi.Js, »m ii. Ojr exum ple, as in* dog, they are m i, h luoim elaborately developed than in nun; and thus w«* Und the sense of smell much ke.-nwr lu the former. What is ( atari i ' An Ilham mat loti of a ruinous m.ai btana. aaotnpanlad with iuo;y or i. discharge Is perhaps a tood popular ■h bullion ftiui.ini., up d. tellurs# is muvou , und whitish «r u.eri} ol orl»*»; and. ujratn. It Is tiurulrnt «#| >• lliwhth. und sun-limes , i.sard with blips! The 'londliloa known us ca tarrh Is one *j» which the ii-.o» t„. ! -mute pertm ultd with oxltanruun ce b4 »Ud lu which the ilssie eieiutiils lh- nv selves »*e« to have Wit ivue |miIiui|,| piop.it>. v-a . that o| dr hi# ('avurh ut the nose passages luu extend «| nr< I the I '»'»»*• until It hit tto.lt,. a Uffh of th« lh Oil! I'sUoti of in# the , In. turn. It Is shewed Du, x* lend do ,n wsrd tut til II ####,• I rfon* | ehtol «i «»,lfU db-aie sud ev ,-u m j the • .d ioi . .u.jv .n |h. ^ which rslatrh xisv ficioetitl) Lsiuisd | lender# it ait I he more ». uiai k .We , i ,i *• man* sto»f