CHAPTER XV.—(Continued.)
“Was this what you were woriaing
for?” I demanded, with a sudden Jeal
tms suspicion.
"Perhaps 1 was!” she answered loft
ily. "I hope she will never be sorry
that she chose wrong.”
”1 hope not!” I assented cordially.
”A real gentleman,” repeated Miss
Woodward—"as free-banded and free
spoken as a prince—a gentleman who
knows how to treat a woman, even If
she Is only a servant—a gentleman I'd
work my fingers to the bone for, and so
would a good many more!”
“You did your best for him,” I could
not help saying. “You have nothing
to reproach yourself with.'”
It was true, as Wlddiington had
said, that all the women were fasci
nated by handsome, dare-devil Charlie
What wonder that Nona had felt his
power? I could only be thankful that
the fascination had not gone deeper.
“No; I've nothing to reproach myself
with,” the maid assented. “And I'll
pray night and day for my young lady,
that she may see her mistake before It
Is too late.”
And with this parting shot the reso
lute virago marched sternly from the
room without a word of farewell civil
ity.
I finished my interrupted letters, and
then sought Nona. She met me with a
dismayed face.
"Such a strange thing has happened,”
ehe exclaimed. “Woodward has left at
a moment's notice. She would not
give any explanation of her going, only
said that she was sorry to inconven
ience me, but circumstances obliged
her to leave at once; and she has
gone."
"The most extraordinary proceed
ing,” chimed in Miss Elmslie. “l told
Nona that she could insist upon Wood
ward's remaining until she had found
another servant. If it had not hap
pened that a young girl from the vil
lage Is at liberty to take her place at
once, tt would have been most Incon
venient and awkward; and Woodward
was such an excellent maid. I suppose
"WHERE'S THE YOUNG FELLOW GONE TO?”
she has had some quarrel with the
servants- and she never had a good
temper."
"I wonder," began Nona, and then
Mopped suddenly.
"What do you wonder?" I asked.
"Nothing." she laughed, "only an
odd Idea of mine "
"Tell me your ideas; 1 like '.o hear
them all."
"I wa* wondering whether Tlllott’a
leaving had anything to do with Wood
ward'*. I know she liked him. and
thought httn a great Improvement on
Charles, hut then he wa* so much
younger' Of course It was very silly of
me to connect the two event* "
"I don't know about that. I think
It wa« very sngadou* of you," I an
swered
"Inen there ta something What
• re you laughing at? What 1* It?"
"You ary right, my dearest Word
ward's and TIMott'a departure* do hrng
together "
And then Mim Klm-lie having dis
creetly retired. I told Nona the whole
alary from beginning to end only eu
Joining an her the secrecy which the
deer little Indiscreet MIh Klm.lie
could never have been trusted to pre
serve
Noe* « tvtatlrhmrsl wa* unbound 4
"What a plot' tie reclaimed It
I* llk» n booh, and Wudeild. wh >
aeease.l so quiet and *.» rc*j..-« able
wn* helping it at) And u.a mm Id
loll ••• a dele live l|ow strange It
all la! I feet a* If I six .h a dmm
The aiii wa* Msally tirlss then not
hast, and and now I i«nd»r»t*nl you
I 'ailed me u when yeu p* • *t»4 >e »
had aeea me at Mol'un and at I ha t
taken poor tag I waa puaa *d and
• n I a little •»«*» huh n«
“Yea you acre thorough y riyatl
f*.t,“ I 'greed
‘Oh t d* hot*** ** aa.'.l Nona 'll.at
m*», Widdriagtua wtti nevar, *•*>*
pad (‘harIts pour Charlie, who t**
my yl«itfl!-<v and fri. ad, and my p»'
taels'* pet and der'lrg irtalrd fllie a
common thief. You will not allow It— I
promise me you will not.”
"It will no*, be so bad as that,” I as
sured her. "Of course he must be
made to surrender the will. However,
we will not talk about him any longer.
This Is my last evening, you know, and
I have a thousand things to say. The
time Is too precious to waste, my dar
ling."
I left the Rectory on the following
day. The next few months were
passed In a dream of happiness which
left me little thought for Charlie
Hranscombe or his concerns. Occa
sionally, it Is true, I was brought into
relations with Wlddrlngton. for my
connection with the office could not be
abruptly terminated, and in the matter
of Forest Lea 1 felt that I had a special
responsibility to discharge. The de
tective was actively following up clue
after clue as they came Into his hands
His pride and his professional Interest
were thoroughly roused by his first
failure, and he was bent on completing
the case In which he had already
worked so hard. Mr. Charles Urans
combe had not left England—so much
Wlddrlngton was sure of. Probably
want of means had prevented his going
far from home and the numerous
friends and adherents who were always
ready to help him.
”1 shall run hits down yet.” Wld
dring'.on confidently asserted. “He
must be starved out sooner or later.”
In the meantime Forest I^ea was
shut up and deserted, at the Rector’s
constant regret; ami only a vague Im
pression of the truth floated about the
neighborhood, where my darling still
remained, under the friendly protec
tion of Mr. and Mrs. Heathcote.
She had promised to be mine In the
summer, when the first anniversary of
the good old Colonel’s death had come
and gone. Then we were to have a
pretty wedding In the village church—
a wedding all flowers and sunshine,
such as became our hopes and our
happiness.
I was fully occupied In preparing for
that supreme event. I was refurnish
In* my newly-acquired home—a lovely
old house in Kent. rtmongst the hop
garden.-i and woods of the Weald—and
sparing no pain* to make It a fitting
nest for the sweet, gentle dove who
was to preside over It.
In such happy occupation, with fre
quent visits to the Mldshire Rectory,
the month* passed quickly away. I
had no personal part in the next act of
the drama which concerned Mr.
Charles Hranscombe and must leave
it* chronicle to another pen.
CHAPTKR XVI
A little maid In a blue cotton gown
and a white muslin cap was picking
peas in a cottage garden. She was
taking her work In leisurely fashion,
sitting on a three-legged *uh>I with her
-S'* ' In her lap. and gathering the
l -.Up pud* a* they dangled rloce to
her hand Ike vines grew high that
sear, and the little maid as she sat was
almost hidden In the green valley; not
so much hidden however, but that a
hot and flu* ered police officer saw her
as he tramped heavily up the path, and
blurted uut an abrupt question
Where's the young fellow gone to**
She looked up sritb a pair uf tranquil
hlqe evea growing round with aatoa
i thmeni as *h* repeated after him In
a * rung couatry accent
Vnung fellar* What young feller
d've meant"
She looked so fresh and w pretty,
and the yellon fringe sHu-h peeped out
fr«m u»i-t*r to r . ap ws- infant
Its tunc*egt simplicity that Mr <_\
Hrwun Kill a munsentwry impute* in
i >pit* uf his Nuatruiton to cku*h her
* nder the tool rounded > htn gad even
perhaps help himeetf to * htaa from
h*r red lip* It h* hadu • been so hot
and »« worried where Ike dtchsn*
itiuif that young rip have got iu* he
would certainly hate lake* advantage
« f his opportunity* As It wa* be pur
sued hi* Invasligattua and reais’ed Iks
• •mptattwn
"A voting fsRar In a I'ght tws«4 suit
he was making straight for here," he
explained. "I saw him before me over
the fields not ten minutes ago. and I'll
swear I hardly lost sight of him. He
must be in the house; there isn’t an
other place this way—not even a shave
of wood to hide him—and Smith and
Varley would have stopped him further
down. He must be in the houae."
“Maybe, ye can ask," retorted the
damsel indifferently, reaching out her
hand towards a group of pods, as If
dismissing the subject.
The officer went his way, with Just
another admiring glance at the pretty
figure in the charming green avenue.
The door at the cottage stood wide
open; a black cat was doxing in the
sun; all was quiet and sleepy; there
was not a sound about the place. The
officer's loud knock brought a stupid
Hervant-glil with a snub nose and a
wide-open mouth to answer his reit
erated question,
“Where's the—the young gentleman
who came In here Just now? I want to
speuk to him."
“There's no young gentleman here."
she replied—"only my master and
misses, and they're both old."
“Where are they? Tell them Mr
James Brown wants to speak to them "
The girl preceded him Into the parlor
at the end of the passage, after knock
ing at the door, and gave his message
verbatim—
“Mr. James Brown wants to speak
to ye.”
A decent old man of the retired
tradesman class, disturbed In his after
noon nap, looked up with blinking eye*
at the Impatient constable, whilst hts
comely old partner put down the stock
ing she was darning, and prepared to
Interview the visitor.
“Good afternoon, sir,” she said, civ
illy. "Won’t you take a seat; it's
warm walking."
Was It real innocence or only a
■ham? Mr. Brown was not going to be
taken in; these people were probably
allies of Mr. Charles Branscombe—old
servants or something of that sort.
The old gentleman's yawn was too
demonstrative, and he did not mean to
let the old lady's civility put him off
the scent—be was quite up to that
game. He glanced sharply around the
room, behind the old man’s ponderous
arm-chair, at the cupboard door, even
up the chimney, before he answered In
his most official tone—
“A young gent entered this house
about ten minutes or maybe a quarter
of an hour ago, Mr. Charles Brane
combe by name. I've got business
with him—very particular business, if
you’ll let him know."
“Mr. Charles Branscombe,” echoed
the old man; “he’s not here, and hasn’t
been, to my knowledge.”
“Then It's without your knowledge,”
retorted Mr. Brown, who was getting
croiM. "I'll take my davy he's some
where on the premises; and, as I bold
a warrant for his apprehension. I shall
have to search for him—with your
leave or without it."
“You’re an Ill-mannered upstart—
that’s what you are," exclaimed Mr.
Walker, very wide awake now, and
starting up to face Mr. Brown. “And
I dare you to search my house—war
rant or no warrant, I'm an honest man,
and I’ve nothing to do with your
scamp*; and If I was ten years younger
I'd kick you out faa’er than you came
in—that’s what I'd do"—warming as
he went on.
“Hush, Samuel!" Interposed the
dame, laying her hand upon his arm.
as he shook his (let in the intruder's
(ace. “Never mind his manners—it’s
only his Ignorance. We don't mean to
resist the law; if he's got a warrant, let
him show it, and he'* welcome to
search if he likes. He'll soon see it's
no use. My husband is old. sir "- -aside
to Mr. Brown, as the old gentleman
walked to the window, and wiped bis
forenead with bis handkerchief—“and
he's apt to be hasty when he's waked
sudden out of his sleep I.e: us see
your warrant, if you please, sir.”
(To lie continued.)
MAN S LUNGS SPRUNG A LEAK.
That Why I he Cleveland llnrkmnn
Wa* flit Clrently knelled.
Front th«* Cleveland Leader: It la
not often that a thin man become*
alarmingly obese within twenty-four
hour* Thld. however, wa* the eipert*
erne of Martin McHugh, who In a hack
driver, and lives at 216 Hamilton *treet.
Wednesday morning he was too *mgll
for hi* clothe*. Several hour* later be
had a pronounced "hay window,” hla
hand*, feet, leg* and arm* were twice
their natural alie. and hla cheek* ga
Ntimed rotund proportions that sur
prised the members wf hla famtl). He
did not *top there, but continued u>
grow tug Anally being compelled to
dlet-nrd hla clothing and take to a bed
lit l» l> Steur waa called He sgld It
was evident lhal McHugh's lung* were
leaking This, according to the physl*
ctgn. became more evident when It waa
»eea that with each brewth the rotund
j portion* roar and fell. In apeaaing of
the lurtou* case l»r Steur eaid ' u
| Houb wa* inlured by being at ruck with j
' the thill of a wagoa He felt aw tm
mediate effect* but wae obliged to go i
burn* later in the day K*ery portion
of bis bud) *eemed to ncbe He then
outta*need to bloat, he lowly swelling
to twice II* natural aia* When «allwd
ip by the family I aaw at »a>« that
[ one of the man'* lung* ha >4 bean In
| |ured and nae leahtng nir With IK
K At. a# A»«*tt I daetded mu nn opera*
i ttn* The body ea» punctured T*e
«ii iv»a»e tott aith a ttmiag f e fh#
| dies bled lung a as then la d Ua e |t '
bad been Inlured a eplin'er having
probably entweed the «*lng Th»
• <mu4 »*t Leaned and ike i**ng rto
fwlty sewed From last reports (he pa
j Kent waa dtuwg nicely and wMl iwu
j be ul hi* otd atabd
TA1MAGF/8 SERMON.
“HEALTH RESORTS.” THE SUB
JECT LAST-SUNDAY.
“A Pool That l< Called in the Hebrew
Tongue Hctlieada, Having Fire Torch
e*. Where I-ay a Great Multitude of
Impotent Folk." Aohn v., a, ».
Outside the city of Jerusalem there
was a sanative watering-place, the pop
ular resort for Invalids. To this day
there Is a dry basin of rock which
shows that there may have been a pool
there three hundred and sixty feet
long, one hundred and thirty feet wide,
and seventy-five feet deep. This pool
was surrounded by five piazzas, or
porches, or bathing houses, where the
patients tarried until the time when
they were to step Into the water. Ho
far as reinvigoratlon was concerned, it
must have been a Haratoga and a Long
Branch on a small scale; a Leaming
ton and a Brighton combined—medical
and therapeutic. Tradition says that
at a certain season of the year there
was an officer of the government who
would go down to that water and pour
In it some healing quality, and after
that the people would come und get
the medication; but 1 prefer the plain
statement of Scripture, that at a cer
tain season an angel came down and
stirred up or troubled the water; and
then the people came and got the heal
ing. That angel of God that stirred
up the Judean watering-place had his
counterpart In the angel of healing,
who, In our day, steps Into the mineral
waters of Congrega^or Sharon, or Hul
phiir Springs, or Into the salt sea at
Cape May and Nahant, where multi
tudes who are worn out with commer
cial and professional anxieties, as well
as those who are uffiicted with rheu
matic, neuralgic and splenetic diseases,
go and are cured by the thousands.
These blessed iiethesdas are scattered
all up and down our country.
We are ut a season of the year when
rail trains are laden with passengers
and baggage on their way to the moun
tains and the lakes and the seashore.
Multitudes of our citizens are away for
a restorative absence. The city heats
are pursuing the people with torch and
fear of sunstroke. The long, silent
halis of sumptuous hotels are all abuzz
with excited arrivals. The antlers of
AdlroridiM k deer rattle under the shot
of city sportsmen The trout make
iatal snap at the hook of adroit sports
men, who toss their spotted brilliance
Into the game basket. The baton of
the orchestral leader taps the music
stand on the hotel green, and Ameri
can life has put on festal array, and
the rumbling of the ten-pin alley, and
the crack of the ivory balls on the
green-balzed billiard tables, and the
Jolting of the bar-room goblets, and
the explosive uncorking of the cham
pagne bottles, and the whirl and the
rustle of the ball-room dance, and the
clattering hoofs of the race courses,
and other signs of social dissipation,
attest that the season for the great
American watering-places Is In full
play. Music! Flute, and drum, and
cornet-a-piston, and clapping cymbals
wake the echoes of the mountains.
Olad am I that fagged out American
life, for the most part, has an oppor
tunity to rest, and that nerves racked
and destroyed will find a Bethesda. I
believe In watering-places. They re
cup«*ate for active service many who
were worn out with trouble or over
work. They are national restoratives.
Let not the commercial firm begrudge
the clerk, or the employer the jour
neyman, or the patient the physician,
or the church its pastor, a season of
Inoccupation. Luther used to sport
with his children; Edmund Burke used
to caress his favoiite horse; Thomas
Chalmers, in the dark hour of the
church's disruption, played kite for re
creation—so I was told by his own
daughter—and the busy Christ said to
the busy npostles, "Come ye apart
awhile Into the desert and rest your
selves.'' And 1 have observed that
they who do not know how to rest do
not know how to work. But I have
to declare this truth today, that some
of our fashionable watering-places are
the temporal and the eternal destruc
tion of "a multitude that no man can
number;" and, amid the congratula
tions of this season, and the prospect
of the departure of many of you for
the country. 1 must utter a warning,
plain, earnest and unmistakable.
The Aral temptation that la apt to
hover In this dlrectlou to leave your
piety at home You will send the dug
and ml nnd canary tdrd to be well
cared for somewhere else, but the
temptation will be to leave your reli
gion In the room with the blinds down
and the door bolted, and than yon will
com.- back In the autumn to And that
It la starved and suffocated, lying
atret. bed on the rug. stark dead 1 here
Is no surplus of piety gt the watering
places | never knew any one to grow 1
vary tepidly In gra.e at ike ('altkill
Mountain bouse tie Aharon Xprtngs or
Ike V alla of Monlmnr. n< y It is gen
•tally the rase that the dsbbalh Is MM**
of " rnruuanl than any other day and
there are Hui.Us> walks, am. Honda*
tide* and Monday es.urstoat Kldera
and .l-a. on* and ministers of religion
who are entirely .oMUatant at home
son.sMs.ee when the HaM v.K dawns on
tken. at Niagara Kalla »»r tne White
Mnunuina, taha a day to thenmelvsa
If they go iu < harsh It ta apt to he a
an*rad gniwde and the dlesuutwe. In
alrail f being a plain l*IV al- <t Ik*
•••a), |« apt to he akai ta vailed a * ra< k
aefnotn that la »«• <lie* outs* pi. ked
out of lb* «ffartvnt »*# the irar as Ike
one must adapted Hr a*. Ha admire
lion and in Home . bur.fce* from lha
way the bsdlva hold lhatr taws you
know th.it they are not so much im
pressed with the heat as with the pic
turesqueness of half disclosed features.
Four puny souls stand in the organ
loft and squall a tune that nobody
knows, and worshipers, with two thou
sand dollars' worth of diamonds on
the right hand, drop a cent into the
poor box, und then the benediction is
pronounced and the farce is ended.
The toughest thing I ever tried to do
was to he good at a watering-place.
The air Is bewitched with the "world,
the flesh and the devil." There are
Christians who, in three or four weeks
in such a place, have had such terrible
rents made in their Christian robe that
they had to keep darning it until
Christmas to get it mended.
The health of a great many people
makes an unnunl visit to some mlnera'
spring an absolute necessity; but take
your Bible along with you, and take in
hour for secret prayer every day,
though you be surrounded by guffaw
and saturnalia. Ke«p holy the Sab
bath, though they deride you as a big
oted Puritan. Stand off from gam
bling hells and those other Institutions
which propose to Imitate on this side
the water the iniquities of Baden-Ba
den. I^et your moral and your immor
tal health keep pare with your physi
cal recuperation, and remember that
all the sulphur and chalybeate springs
cannot do you so much good as the
healing perennial flood that breaks
forth from the “Rock o( Ages.” This
may be your last summer. If so, make
it a fit vestibule of heaven.
Another teinotutlon hovering around
nearly all our watering-places is the
horse-racing business. We all admire
the horse, but we do not think that its
beauty or speed ought to be cultured ;H
the expense of human degradation.
The horse race Is not of such impor
tance as the human race. The Bible
intimates that a man Is better than a
sheep, and I suppose he is better than
a horse, though, like Job's stallion, his
neck be clothed with thunder. Morse
races in olden times were under the
ban of Christian people; and in our
day the same institution has come up
under fictitious names. And it is called
a "summer meeting," almost suggest
ive of positive religious exercises. And
it is called an "agricultural fair,” sug
gestive of everything that is improving
in the art of farming. But under these
deceptive titles are the same cheating
and the same betting and the same
drunkenness and the same vagabond
age and the same abomination that
were to be found under the old horse
racing system.
Long ago the English government
got through looking to the turf for
the dragoon and the light-cavalry
horse. They found out that the turf
depreciates the stock; and it is worse
yet for men. Thomas Hughes,the mem
ber of parliament ami the author
known all the world over, hearing that
a new turf enterprise was being start
ed in this country, wrote a letter in
which he said: “Heaven help you,
then: for of all the cankers of our
old civilization there Is nothing in this
country approaching in unblushing
meanness, in rascality holding Its head
high, to this belauded institution of
the British turf." Another famous
sportsman writes: “How many fine
domains have been shared among
these hosts of rapacious sharks during
the last 200 years; and unless the sys
tem be altered, how many more are
doomed to fall into the same gulf!"
With the bull fights of Spain and the
bear-baitings of the pit, may the Lord
God annihilate the Infamous and ac
cursed horse racing of England and
America!
Now, the watering-places are full of
temptations to men and women to tip
ple. At the close of the ten-pin or bil
liard game, they tipple. At the close
of the cotillon, they tipple. Seated
on the piazza cooling themselves off,
they tipple. The tinged glasses come
around with bright straws, and they
tipple. First, they take "light wines,"
as they call them; but "light wines"
are heavy enough to debase the appe
tite. There Is not a very long road
between champagne at five dollars a
bottle and whisky at ten cents a glass.
Satan has three or four grades down
which he takes men to destruction.
One man he takes up. and through one
spree pitches him Into eternal dark
ness. That is a rare case. Very sel
dom, Indeed, cun you find a man who
will he such a fool as that. Satan will
take another man to a grade, to a de
scent at an angle about like the Penn
sylvania coal-chute oi the Mount
Washington rail-track, and shove him <
off Hut that Is very rare. When a :
man gcies down to destruction, Satan
brings him to a plane It Is almost 4
level. The depieealon is so slight that
you can hardly see It. The man does
not aetnally know that he is on the
down grade, and It tips only a little to
ward total darkness* just a little. And
the llrti mile It la claret, and the see- I
ond mile It Is sherry, and the third
utile It la punch. amt the fourth mile i
It Is ale. and the fifth mite It ta whisky. 1
and the stith tulle It Is braidy. and
then It gets steeper and steeper and
steeper until II Is Impossible lu slop,
“t.ook not thou tivcn the wine when
II Is ted. when It giveth Its rnlw In Ike
cup when it motvth Itself aright At j
tbs last It blteth like a ssipenl. and I
sMagelh like »w adder
Wkelher yon tarry at h«w which
wilt tie guile as safe, and perhaps guile
as com fur table-•» go ta>u the country, j
arm ?»ore*!f against lempialtoa fh*
grata of tind Is the ugly safe shelter j
• he I her is town or cuttatry There are ;
watering plates accessible ta all of us
| as tagged ttpea a hnnh of the lit hie
without imtlag out some such water
mg plate Fountains opra fur sta and
oat teeaaeew Wstte if Miration
gtreatns from t«haaoa A hood tiroes
a i( of th* rt<. h kt Mo**s Fountains
In the wilderness discovered by Ilagar.
Water to drink and water to bathe in.
The river of God, which is full of wa
ter. Water of which if a man drink
he shall never thirst. Wells of water
tn the Valley of liata. Living foun
tains of water. A pure river of water
as clear as crystal from under the
throne of God. These are watering
places accessible to all of us. We do
not have a laborious peeking up before
we start—only the throwing away of
our transgressions. No expensive ho
tel hills to pay; It Is "without money
and without price.” No long and dusty
travel before we get there; It Is only
one step away.
In California. In five minutes, I
walked around and saw ten fountains
all bubbling up, and they were all dif
ferent; and in five minutes I can go
through this Bible parterre and find
you fifty bright, sparkling fountains
bubbling up into eternal life—healing
and therapeutic, a chemist will go to
one of these summer watering-places
and take the water, and analyze It. and
tell yon that it contains so much of
iron, and so much of soda, and so much
of lime, and so much of magnesia. 1
come to this Gospel well, this living
fountain, and analyze the water; and
I find that Its Ingredients are peace,
pardon, forgiveness, hope, comfort, life,
heaven. “Ho, every one that thlrsteth,
rome ye” to this watering-place.
Crowd around this Bethesda. O you
sick, you lame, you troubled, you dy
ing crowd around this Hetbesda. Step
in it, oh, step In It. The angel of tho
covenant today stirs the water. Why
do you not step In It? Home of you are
too weak to take a step in that direc
tion. Then we take you up In the arms
of prayer, and plunge you clear under
the wave, hoping that the cure may
he as sudden and as radical as with
Captain Naaman, who, blotched and
carhuncled, stepped Into the Jordan,
and after the seventh dive came up,
his skin roseate-complexloned as tho
flesh of a little child.
A STRONG BABY.
Kcglmcn on Which One Infant fa Mak
ing Astonishing Growth.
There in a doctor in West Philadel
phia who has a son one year old, and
this baby is probably the strongest hu
man being for Its age and weight In
the world. Its father will hold a cane
In his two hands, and the baby, grasp
ing It, will draw Itself up to Its rhln
three times. That is but one of Its nu
merous feats of strength. The physi
cian says that his boy's unusual mus
(ular development is due to a dally
massage treatment. Kvery morning he
lays the little fellow, naked, on a
blanket, and kneads his muscles for
thirty minutes. Once a month he
weighs the baby and measures Its
calves, chest, arms, etc. The monthly
Increase of weight and girth are re- 41
markable. The baby has never had
shoes or stockings on its feet or a hat
on its head, and In the summer it wears
only a little sleeveless dress that comes
to Its knees. It gets a cold bath every
morning. “If nothing goes wrong,"
the physician often declares, “this
child will be one of the strongest men
the world has ever seen. He will never
get bald and he will never lose a
tooth. As for his muscles, with mas
sage and a course of exercise that I
have laid out, they will be big and
supple all over his body. All his flesh
will be, when tensp, hard as steel, and
when relaxed as soft as the flesh of a
young girl."
I.om of Hair Hue to Mental Shock.
In a French medical Journal M. Bo!s
sier relates the following remarkably
case, which Is an addition to thn
group of cases In which sudden loss
of hair or change of its color followed
mental shock. The subject was a vig
orous peasant, aged 38 years, who was
not of a nervous temperament beyond
being Rllghtly emotional. His hair was
abundant, and a dark chestnut col
or and not even slightly Interspersed
with white filaments. One evening, as
he was returning home, preceded by his.
mule, on which was mounted hts son,
aged 8 years, the animal slipped, and
the child was thrown ofT and trampled
on several times. He was only severe
ly bruised, but the father thought he
was killed, and in endeavoring to save
him was terror-stricken. He trembled,
and had palpitations and a feeling of
cold and tension in the face and head.
On the following day the hairs of thn
head, heard and eyebrows commenced
to fail In quantities, so that after eight
days he was absolutely bald. At the
same time the skin of the fare and J
head tiecome paler. Without delay thn
hairs began to grow again In the form
of a colorless down. Soon all the af
fected regions were covered with liner,
more silky, and a more thinly sown,
iompletely white hair. The hair of
other regions was not affected
M*r kikM la Iha Murlar.
Ail odd iron'tiirni a *« dead* <1 liy
an elderly maldeu who died n few
weeha ago in Alhlone Ireland rthe
Ml a fortune of lilh mm to tie epeni in
1 he erection of a church provided that
her (tody elionld In* converted into
aahea and uaed in making the mortar
for building Ike edlfl.e
Jmt Tblah a* tl.
Tommy yUroggin* "I d hata In ha
dai iao haad«d boy at da mu** uw '
Jimmie Wigglna Ha ha* Iota o' fug «e
tommy * ruggla* "I Anna gat but
)aa l lgh o' ha* In loo fa. to t*
wareb " t)hb> itate Journal
Meager.
Iha t'anh frealdeat Are you a earn
the taehler baa iahe« a half Ihleieat in
a tekl’ The IniBleaiUl Adviaar -
■V< I'eibap* had ba|ia« are ha d«*«
nut Income a full Hedged eh Ip par
iHd aiiapoUe Journal
I
