V
IV
THE ADYEETISEE.
G. W. FAIRBR0TI1ER & CO., Publishers.
BROWNVILLE,
NEBRASKA
A BIItD STORY FOK BOYS.
' "Wide Awake.
It's strange how little boy's mothers
Can find It all out as they do,
If a fellow does anything naughty,
Or says anything that's not true!
They'll look at you just a moment
Till your heart in your bosom swells,
And then they know all about it
For a little birdie tells!
Now where the little bird comes from,.
Or where the little bird goes,
If he's covered with beautiful plumage,
Or block as the king of crows,
If hit vo'ce is as hoarse as the raven
Or clear as the ringing of bells,
I know not but this I am sure of
A little bird tells!
The moment you think a thing wicked,
The moment you do a thing bad,
Are angry or sullen or hateful,
Get ugly or stupid or mad,
Or tease a dear brother or sister
That Instant your sentence he knells,
And the whole to mamma in a minute
That little bird tells!
You may be in the depths of a closet
Where nobody sees but a mouse,
You may be all alone in the cellar,
You may be in the top of the house,
You may be in the dark and the silence,
Or out in the woods and the dell"
No matter. "Wherever it happens,
The little bird tells!
And the only contrivance to stop him
Is just to be sure what you say
Sure of your facts and your fancies,
Sure of your work and your play;
Be honest, be brave, and be kindly,
Be gentle and loving as well,
And then you can laugh at the 6tories
The little birds tell!
TKE GIVER'S :tGVARD.
"Who gives and hides the giving hand
Nor counts on favor, fame or praise,
Shall find his smallest gift outweighs
The burden of the sea and land.
Who gives to whom hath nought been given.
His gift in need, though small indeed
As is the grass-blade's sind-blown seed.
Is large as earth and rich as heaven.
THOMAS COR WIN.
Anecdote of the Oiico Widely Known
Ohio Statesman.
Correspondence of the Chlcapo Tribune.
Cleveland, December 30. Probably
no statesman of the past generation of
great men created a deeper impression
upon those among whom he lived and
moved than did Thomas Corwin. Yet,
althoughbarely dead a dozenyears, the
present generation knows little of him,
save in reminiscences of 1840. His
biography has never been written, al
though the material for such a work is
of a rich and varied character. The
scope of the present article will permit
only a glance at some of the least
known characteristics of his life.
About thirty miles northeast from
Cincinnati, in "the midst of that beauti
ful and inexhaustibly fertile region ly
ing between the two Miania rivers, is
situated the ancient village of Lebanon,
the county seat of Warren county,
Ohio, and
THE OLD nOirE OF THE CORWINS.
Matthias Corwin, Sr., was one of the
first settlers of this region, having re
moved from Bourbon county,Kentucky,
and settled on a farm near Lebanon,
. in the year 1798. Thomas was then 4
years old. The Corwin family, of
which this is the principal branch, are
of Hungarian descent, and immigrated
to the American colonies early in the
eighteenth century. They trace their
lineage back to Matthias Corvinus, and
Matthias has always been a favorite
name in the family.
Thomas' father was a firm believer in
the theory of primogeniture, and car
ried his opinions so far as to hold that
the elder children are superior in intel
lect to the younger, and should have
irovided there be no inheritance, at
east the choice of professions. He
concluded that" his first born son, whom
he christened Matthias, was intended
for the ministry, and to this calling ded
icated him. Next came Jesse, who
showed what the father considered
traits which would fit him for a practi
tioner at the bar, and he was accord
ingly placed in training for this profes
sion. Thomas, the third son, was ro
bust and muscular,, jovial, fond of a
joke, and withal had early developed a
liking for a team. The elder Corwin
thought it required no great power of
discernment to discover that
THOMAS "WAS 'INTENDED FOR THE FARM.
So far as is now known this decision
was for a time satisfactory. Thomas1
contentment, however, did not long
continue. In referring to the exper
ience of this time, he said to his son:
"This decision of father's used to
trouble me much in secret. I remember
especially thinking over the subject a
good deal one season as I plowed corn
in the fields. 'Will this be my work for
life?' I would think. 'Is it possible that
I am to know nothing of books or lite
rature, while my brothel's leave me in
the race0' And, as I so thought,
THE TEARS "WOULD START
involuntarily to my eyes. But this was
always in the high corn, and I would
brush them away, so that, when I
reached the end of the row, my face
was bright and happy, and nothing of
my inmost thoughts was known to my
father."
Matthias, the younger, had been sup
plied with books for his preparatory
studies; and these, by the light of the
sugar camp fire by night and during all
leisure hours, Thomas used to such
good advantage that he was greatly
profited when the harder struggle for
systematic self-education came in ma
turer years.
At length a fortuitous circumstance
turned the whole course of his life. He
had reached the age of 17, and was
nearly full grown. On a certain occa
sion, when there was somewhat of a
public gathering, as usual Tom was
bj-ought out as the champion wrestler,
and was matched against a man much
his superior in physical strength. Af
ter two trials, in which Tom liad been
equally successful with his antagonist,
the-"rubber" came, which was to de
cide the contest. At length Tom was,
by force of sheer muscular power,
crowded down with great violence upon
one knee, in such a manner as to split
the cap, and from that moment to the
end of his life was a cripple.
THE CAMPAIGN OF 1840
was the one in which Corwin's powers
as a stump orator manifested themselves
to their fullest extent. It was a great
popular uprisinfir, and he was everywhere
"the hero of the Hour. On one occasion,
when he was engaged in speaking to a
large crowd, he was interrupted several
times by an impatient little man, who
in a tenor voice demanded, "apeak a
little louder, Mr. Corwin." Finally the
speaker stopped, and, loooking with the
peculiar quizzical expression which was
a characteristic of the man, began to
stretch himself up to his fullest, height,
and bend his head in every direction, as
though endeavoring to see a very di
minutive individual. At length his eyes
remained fixed, and he said, in the loud
est, most resonant tone of which his re
markable voice was capable:
"Fellow-citizens: In that great day
when the heavens shall be rolled togeth
er like a scroll when Gabriel, standing
with one foot upon the sea andthe oth
er upon the solid land, shall say in trumpet-tones
that time shall be no more
some squeaky-voiced democrat away
over in the outskirts of the crowd, will
call out with what little force he pos
sesses, 'Speak a little louder, Mr. Ga
briel!' "
This incident recalls the fact that Mr.
Corwin was
A STUDENT OF THE SCRIPTURES.
in early life, and delighted ever in his
speeches to draw illustrations from
them. He was a strog supporter of Lin
coln for the presidency, and was a dele
gate to the Chicago convention. On the
return trip two young men were sitting
in the car-seat directly in front of him,
engaged in talking about the nomina
tion which had just been announced.
They considered the choice of the con
vention a mistake.
"The idea," said one, "that the peo-
Ele of this country must go out into the
ackwoods of Illinois, ana take up an
unknown, third-rale lawyer for such a
position as this?"
"O well, he will probably be defeated
any way," said the other. "If he were
much of a man he would not be so poor.
A man who can't make money is a poor
one to take up for the presidency."
Mr. Corwin could not longer hear
such sentiments in silence. "If you
will excuse me," b began, "I once read
in a very old book of a very remarkable
personage, the most remarkable, per
haps, that eyer lived. But on one occa
sion this personage rode into Jerusalem
on the bare back of an ass because he
hadn't money enough to buy him a
horse and saddle. Yet the people re
ceived him with honor and welcome
shouts, and he has often been called
great. There may be more in this Illi
nois lawyer than you think."
To illustrate Corwin's manner of
HANDLING A TROUBLESOME QUES
TIONER, no better anecdote can be recalled than
the following: He had onlv got well
started in his speech at a certain place,
when some one began to ply questions.
For a time they were answered with
care, notwithstanding the cries that
were made of "Put him out!" etc. "No
don't put him out," said the orator,
"I am glad to answer questions." But
they came thicker and faster, and there
seemed to be no likelihood of cessation.
Finally Corwin said, in his confidential
tone:
. "Now, my dear old friend, I wish you
wouldn't ask any more questions at
E resent for you see I am "in a great
urry. I have a good many people to
talk to, and they want to hear what I
have to say. But I know where you
live, and, if you will keep still now,
when the campaign is over I will re
member you, and come up and stay all
night with you, and we will .sleep to
gether and talk it all over."
IN HIS PRIVATE AND SOCIAL LIFE
Mr Corwin was nol ess peculiar and uni
que than in his public career. He was
passionately fond of his family and
friends, being ever willing' to make any
sacrifice for their sake. The love which
he cherished for his three daughters was
so intense that it partook of the form of
jealousy when they began to be courted
by the admiring young men of the vicin
ity. At the marriage of his oldest daugh
ter, Eva, to Mr. George R. Sage, a young
lawyer of Cincinnati, Corwin manifested
so much feeling that the occasion par
took more of the aspect of a funeral than
of a wedding. During the ceremony he
shed tears, and at the supper, after a
prolonged and solemn silence, Jie sud
denly broke out:
"Now I want it distinctly understood
that this thing is never going to happen
again in this house. There will never
be another wedding here. I will get a
nigger six feet tall, and give him a pole
ten feet long, and post him at the front
door, and instruct him to
KNOCK ANY YOUNG MAN IN THE HEAD
who comes to see my daughters."
Gen. Garfield relates that shortly be
fore Corwin's death, when he returned
to Washington from a flying visit to
Lebanon to attend the marriage of his
youngest daughter, he referred to this
marriage of Eva, and said that he shut
himself up in his room for three or four
days before it occurred, and could not
be persuaded to take any part in the
preparations, and only on the most ear
nest solicitation did he come down to
witness the ceremony. He said: "I
could not endure the thought of my
daughter loving another man better
than myself; and yet she married a no
ble fellow. And now the old feeling
lias returned. I tell you I had a horri
ble time of it until the ceromony was
over."
As would be supposed Mr. Corwin
was
FOND OF FAMILY GATHERINGS
and associations of friends. A cousin
relates, as his earliest remembrance of
him, that he was at the house of his
grandmother at a Thanksgiving party.
Among the guests was a Baptist preach
er, a collateral relative, who, in the
most solemn manner, "began to belabor
Mr. Corwin for not attending church
more regularly. The latter listened
seriously to the close of the exhortation,
and then said: "I know I don't attend
church as regularly as I ought to; but
the fact is, I have conscientious scruples
about going on Sunday. MyBibleqom
mands me to remember the sabbath day
and keep it holy, and observe it as a day
of rest. Now, if I go to meeting, I break
this command. If you will appoint
some day during the week and preach
then, I will every time be in nry pew
and listen attentively to what you have
to say. But, when you insist upon get
ting a living by work upon a holy day,
I cannot contribute to the sin."
When Corwin's only son, Dr. William
H. Corwin, was attending college at
Dennison University, his teachers com
plained that he sat up too late nights,
and they were afraid he would injure
himself with over mental exertion. The
statesman
"WROTE ON THIS OCCASION AS FOLLOWS:
"Jfy Son: I am informed that you
are seriously injuring your health by
study. Very few young men nowadays
are likely to be injured in this way. and
all I have to say to you is, that, should
you kill yourself by study, it would give
me great pleasure to attend your funer-
A feature of Mr. Corwin's character
which should not be overlooked, was
his sympathy with struggling young
men. He assisted many a boy to a good
education, and his law office at Lebanon
was constantly filled with students.
Many of these attained eminence in their
profession, and now relate with pride
reminiscences of the kindness and humor
of their tutor.
Judge K., of Illinois, who boasts of
some Indian blood in his veins, while a
law student in an Ohio town, went
some distance one autumn day. to hear
the orator. He found Mr. Corwin in the
office of the hotel, as usual si rrounded
by friends who were listening to his con
versation. The young man noticed that
he attracted Mr. Corwin's attention, and
was somewhat embarrassed. But he
had no time to retreat, for the latter
breaking off abruptly and uncovering
his head, said to him:
"HERE TAKE MY HAT!"
The young man stammered out a
question in regard to what that was for.
"Because you are a blacker man than
1 am," said Mr. Corwin.
Upon learning that the young man
was in somewhat straightened circum
stances, Mr. Corwin invited him to en
ter his law office at Lebanon; and, upon
the invitation being accepted, theyoung
man was assisted through to the end of
his studies!
Just before sailing from Mexico he
wrote a characteristic letter to his cous
in, Robert G. Corwin, of Dayton, Ohio,
which, together with some wit, con
tained a good deal of truth, and had a
sombre strain running clear through it
He said that he had accomplished all
that could now be done in his mission,
and was about to return. When he ar
rived in the United States he would
want something to do. He had had
some skill in youth in imparting knowl
edge, and would suggest that a country
school be obtained for him. But in case
he should die before he arrived home,
he requested that
NO COSTLY MONUMENT
be placed over his grave. He desired
to be buried in Lebanon, and suggested
the following inscription for his tomb
stone: "THCttlAS CORWIN.
Bork, July 29, 1794 : Died
"Dearly beloved by his family ; despised by detn
ocrats; useful in life only to knaves and pretended
friends.
Upon returning from Mexico, Mr.
Corwin found bankruptcy stiring him
in the face. More than S100.000 in debts
awaited payment. These debts were
almost entirely the result of signing
notes with friends, who had left them
for him to pay. He assured his credit
ors that, with reasonable time, he would
make the endeavor to pay all ; and in
his old age, like Walter Scott, he under
took the herculean task of canceling
this enormous debt by individual exer
tion. This was a favorable time to un
der' ake such a task. Complicated liti
gation growing out of the Mexican war,
and the collection of heavy claims, all
awaited eminent talent; and the general
flushness of money, caused by inflation,
made fees large and easy of collection.
He opened an office in a favorable part
of Washington, -and his national reputa
tion soon brought him a
LARGE AND REMUNERATIVE PRACTICE.
But the burden of this labor, together
with anxiety over financial embarrass
ments, proved too much for his consti
tution, and suddenly, at a time when he
appeared most vigorous and jovial, the
fatal stroke came. General Garfield,
who witnessed the sad event, relates it
as follows:
A large party of Ohio people were as
sembledin the house of Mr. Wetmore,
military agent of Ohio, and Corwin was
in his happiest vein of anecdote. He oc
cupied a sofa with a friend seated on
each hand, and as many gathered in
front of him as could get in reach. They
were listening to one of his inimitable
stories, in the course of whicli he arose
to illustrate some point of the anecdote,
and, while making a gesture with both
hands, was stricken with paralysis and
fell forward. I caught him in my arms,
and Whitelaw Reid, who .stood beside
me, aided in carrying him to a bed in
an adjoining room. He spoke once or
twice on the way, and as we laid him
down," but never spoke again. He died
next day.
THE REQUEST OF THE STATESMAN,
not only expressed in 'he letter to
cousin Robert, but, in conversation, to
others, that he be buried in Lebanon,
and that no costly monument be raised
to his memory has been respected. The
family have not decided upon the style
of stone that shall be placed upon beside
the torn' ; and so, unmarked save by a
small cedar tree whicli has sprung up
unbidden at its head, the grave of Oliio's
brilliant statesman awaits the great day.
liARY.
An Earnest Rebuke for Methodists.
Conprt'gatlonallst.
We wish oar Methodist brethren could
understand better than they seem to
realize what a strain they sometimes
put upon the affectionate desire of some
of their evangelical brethren to be in
fellowship with them and with their
ways. We wish they would stop to
think, when they put a "boy preacher"
upon the stand before 8,000 people, who
begins: "Glory to God! Heaven is in
raptures, and hell in consternation to
night" all because he is going to
preach: and who then, saying: "I am
in dead earnest to-night for salvation of
souls. I have come here for that pur
pose, and am sure to succeed, for the
power of Go 1 is here and will soon be
displayed," rolls up his sleeves, and, with
rantic gesticulations, proceeds by all
he tricks of the stump speaker to work
up a scene of emotional excitement in
which some are singing, some shouting,
some praying, some weeping, with an
uproar suggesting that in the theatre a'
Ephesus, whish the town clerk thought
was too bad for the worshippers of the
great goddess Diana we say we wish
our friends would sit down calmly to
estimate the per contras of such a scene.
And whether, even if it be conceivable
that some little abiding good may re
main to some few souls out of such semi
blasphemous confusion, harm enough
has been done to the great crowd of
onlookers to throw the balance heavily
against such methods. Who but God
knows how many refined and educated
listeners are thrown off by such spiritual
excesses, into a chronic and perhaps
fatal aversion to all evangelical religion?
An Angel Seen,
Battle Creek (Mtch ) Special to Chicago Tribune.
It is claimed by several people who
were in attendance at the watch-meeting
at the Seventh-Day Adventists' tab
ernacle, on New Year's eve. that an an
gel made its appearance at one of the
large windows, and was distinctly seen
for a full moment The attention of
those present was attracted toward it by
a brijUiant light which streamed through
the window. It is described by those
present as dressed in flowing white gar
ments, and with a halo about its head
from which ridiated the most brilliant
light, so bright that those who looked
upon it were dazzled and fascinated by
it, being unable to take their gaze from
off it until it disappeared as sudden as it
appeared. The story is creating con
siderable excitement in the city, and by
those who believe in it is accepted as a
favorable omen, while others, who be
lieve in Mother Shipton's prophecy,
look upon it in the light of being a
warning and forerunner of the world's
end.
Some of the German, and Russian
rail-mills employ, it is stated, an in
genious method of overcoming the dif
ficulty of cutting hot rails, so that they
may be all of the same length when
cold. According to this plan, the rails
are looked at through a dark glass;
when they have cooled to a certain
temperature they cannot be perceived;
and if, therefore, a dark blue or an
orange yellow glass is used, the rails
. ay still be at a red glow, but the light
radiated from them does not reach the
eye. It may be considered that the
light from two rails, observed through
the same dark- glass, disappears at the
same temperature, and thus a rule is
obtained for cutting ibe rails to the
same perfect and identical gauge. This
plan has been in use for a considerable
time, with excellent results.
The five-year-old son of a family the
other day stood vs-stching his baby
brother, who was making a great noise
over having his face washed. The little
fellow at length lost patience, and stamp
ing his foot,said, "You thinkyou have lots
of trouble, but you don't know anything
about it Wait till you are big enough
to get a licking and then you will see
won't he, mamma?"
TJie Rcnson Wliy.
The tonic effect of Kidney-Wort is produced
by its cleansing and purifying action on the
blood. Where there is a gravelly deposit in
the urine, or milky, ropy urine from disor
dered kidneys, it always exme.-Leaden
HOMES OP THE POETS.
Condensed from "Poet' Homes."
THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH.
Mr. Aldrich "lives in Ponkapog, a part
of the town of Canton, in Massachu
setts. Although a very charming place,
Ponkapog was never noticed for its en
terprise, and the location of .a railroad
some two or three miles distant has left
it very much in the condition of BaLey's
Four Corners, described by Mr. Aldrich
in his story of "Miss Mehetable's Son."
The house is an old-fashioned two-story
house built at the beginning of the
present century, and is partly screened
from the road by cherry trees and a
hedge of arbor vita?, presided over by
two ancient and shiftless looking button
woods. Back of the house the grounds
fall away gently to a stream and an old
pond, on which stands a deserted and
decaying mill, which was utilized during
the late war for the weaving of soldiers'
cardigans. Along the margin of the
stream which, after wandering all
around the grouuds, finds its way out
on the Neponset meadows, and so to
the ocean, great quantities of water
cresses, ferns and curious wild flowers
grow, the early cowslip and pitcher
plant among them.
ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS.
Her summer house at Gloucester is a
two-story brown cottage, with doors and
windows opening out upon a piazza
facing the sea. upon the interior Miss
Phelps has bestowed much of the artis
tic taste which distinguishes her. The
parlor is a long narrow room tinted with
a delicate green shade, not a sea green,
but the green our eye catches in the opal
of a wave as the sunset lights it. In
other rooms of the house the same taste
has directed that one should be rose
pink, another robin's egg blue, another
delicate shades of buff and brown, an
other the native colors of the wood.
The house is filled with the remembrance
of those who love her; and, with the
books and pictures that she loves and
with the constant society and sympathy
of friends, the lady whom you know as
the author of "Gates Ajar" and the
"Story of Avis" here draws into her
quiet days and invalid life the courage
and the calm of the summer sea.
NORA PERRY.
Miss Perry's home is in Providence,
in little Rhode Island, though she was
a Massachusetts girl, and is so much in
Boston that many persons have an idea
that her fixed residence is there, To
reach this home we go up over one of
the beautiful hills for which Providence
is noted, and entering a quiet street,
stop at last before a modest little house
shaded by two branching elms. But it
is not the exterior, it is the interior in
whicli we are most interested, for it is
there that Nora Perry's individuality
has opportunity to assert itself. Ad
mitted to this interior we are shown in
to a charming room of which we take
fascinated observation while we wait
the coming of its mistress. The heavy
drapery of the windows gives the room
soft, subdued light, but quite sufficient
to enable us 1o discover its artistic ar
rangement. If it is winter, a bright,
open wood fire is burning before us. On
the walls, all about are pictures pic
tures everywhere; bits of painting,
beautiful engravings, and choice speci
mens of photographic art. In the cor
ner stands a wide writing table, and
close beside it a book case filled with
books. This corner is our lady's work
shop, the nook where our sweet singer's
songs are penned.
MRS. HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD.
The dwelling is one of those grand,
old-fashioned farm houses, built to last
as long as the island, and when folks
had plenty of timber to put around it.
It used to'be a tavern also, and it actu
ally seems to laugh as we come up to it
with memories of the jollity it had seen
in the days gone by. But there is a dif
ferent air about it now. It has been re
modeled somewhat, without and within,
and, while there is no lack of laughter
around it, it stands with a quiet and
stately grace. There is a store of joy
there now, but it is different; as the
song that steals out into the hushed
stillness of the night from the poet's lat
tice is different from that which makes
the rafters ring over the bowl of cider
The staircase is wide and quaint, and
above it is open clear through the house
giving it an air of spaciousness and
grandeur. Below, too, it is wide and
cool, a most delicious retreat in the heat
of the day, a perfect temple for quiet,
unspoken worship in the hush of the
evening. To the left of the hall is the
parlor; and once within, it is hard to
get away, there is so much to feast the
eye, and so much to charm the mind;
for here the family sit and make the
home.
MRS. CELIA THAXTER.
The cottage of Appledore island is
perfectly plain. No bay windows, bal
conies, or other petty appendages; no
fanciful gables, or Gothic points; no
newness of paint; no vines or trees.
Only a plain two-storied house, with
dormer window attic. A homely house
built on the rock, and perched in severe
relief against the sky. At the front of
the cottage is a small yard inclosed by a
picket fence. It is full of flowers. I
do not mean piim and decorous beds
and flowers staying where they are
put within their well-clipped borders.
But a yard full of flowers full to the
fence-top and covering every inch of
ground with their glad luxuriance. Not
a weed anywhere quite crowded out
by these burning, glowing, starry,
gladsome creatures. Somehow by rea
son of the soil and air, all flowers here
have a freedom of growth and brillian
cy of hue not elsewhere found and in
tense loveliness !
MR. J. J. PIATT AND MRS. S. M. B. PIATT.
The Piatt house itself is built at the
center of many beautiful landscapes
the Ohio river being the commanding
feature. The cottage stands on the
river line of hills, on the northern
(Ohio) side, nearly 300 feet above the
river level. Every window of the
house gives charming river views the
Ohio southeast and southwest, the
great Miania to the northward, while
from the heights above the house there
is a lovely glimpse of the meeting of
the Whitewater with the Miami, re
minding one of Tom Moore's song of
"The Vale of Avoca where the bright
waters meet." These gay, sunny wa
ters encircle in their gleaming arms the
most green and fertile of valleys. In
summer the whole country below the
dark wooded heights seems one vast,
unbroken, level corn-field. Across the
Ohio to the southward there are some
delightful Kentucky views rich and
extensive bottom lands, with farm
houses, orchards, pastures, wheat fields
and corn fields, bounded by a line of
wooded hills, so that the scene from the
upper windows is a delightful mingling
of the idyllic and the romantic.
MRS. A. D. T. WHTTNER.
It is a sweet, sunny place, in Milton,
midway between the Mill Tillage and
the Centre; and the pleasant south win
dows look sway to Blue Hills, which
bound the horizon. It is a brown, double
house, with ;m L and a veranda at the
back, a broad piazza front, woodbine
climbing luxuriantly around its pillars
and up the side of the houses a roof of
woodbine which her children brought
from Milton woods Years ago and
planted here. Koses
place in summer, and
green. Gnarled old
grow about
the
tne tun is
very
apple trees and
dwarf pears abound at the back, and
plenty of singing birds have their habij
tation among the branches, and in the
bird-houses, which are perched high up
abdve the tree-tops for their accommo
dation. Lovely old elms give the pUce
name Elm Corner. That quain&fold
house across the road is where "Faith
Gartney" used to live.
J. T. TROWBRIDGE.
The home of J. T. Trowbridge, the
poet and the story-teller, is a neat,
bro vn wooden house, two and a half
stories high, situated in a garden of
fruit and flowers, on Pleasant street,
in Arlington, Mass. Close behind it
Arlington Lake, the Spy Pond of his
toric fame, winds like a broad river for
a distance of a mile or more. A drawing-room
furnished with elegance ard
taste occupies the front half of the
house, behind which a large dining
room overlooks the pond. From the
east window in the upper hall Blinker
Hill Monument and the city of Charles
town can be seen, with a glimpse of
old Boston itself. From the southeast
window of the study Mount Auburn,
the city of the dead, Cambridge observ
atory, surrounded by ti.e hills of Bright
on and Brookline, form an interesting
prospect. Arlington Lake, which can
he seen from all the windows on the
side and rear of the house, affords a
scene of ever-changing variety.
RICHARD HENRY STODDARD.
The Stoddards live in New York, in
an unpretending little home in East Fif
teenth street If we were to attempt to
characterize their home in a few words
we should say that it was nearly such a
home as all authors ought to have. It
is plainly furnished, but is full of good
books and good pictures, most of which
were painted by their artist friends.
The books are all English, of course, for
the, Stoddards have only such education
as they have given themselves; but they
are all good "books which are books,"
as Charles Lamb used to say.
A Husband's Revenge.
A Paris letter to the New York Times,
of the 3d inst, has the following:
On the banks of Maine, close by the
village of R., and about three-quarters
of an hour distant from Paris, stands the
chateau of the Marquis of R. It is a
very grand old chateau, built at a time
when every country residence was a
fortress, and tourists travel thither from
afar to admire its turrets and its porti
cullis, and above all its armory, which
is said to contain the finest private col
lection of offensive and defensive weap
ons in France. The gem3 of the gallery
are helmets, of which there are speci
mens of every shape and epoch, from
the humble Marion of the Rietze to the
plumed and gilded casque of the knight.
In fact, helmets are a particular hoDby
of the marquis, who is, or rather was,
prouder of his collection than of any
thing else in the world until he took
unto himself a wife, when, so long as
the novelty of the situation lasted, she
assumed the first place in his affections.
But the marchioness, who is a restless
little Parisienne, did not like the village
of R., nor the chateau of R. She found
her neighbors dull, and saw no charms
in the Snnday evening game of whist
with the notary, the cure and her hus
band. Time hung heavily on her hands;
she had nothing to do and so looked
about her for some distraction, as she
was as much out of place in the gloomy
old castle as would be a canary bird in
side a cannon. She found it, naturally,
as most people do find what they want,
if they seek dilligently and are aided by
the devil, as she was, for the distractor
appeared in the form of Mr. T. P., son
of an eminent Parisian doctor, who has
a villa in the environs.
All through the summer their flirta
tions went on nicely, if wickedly, but
naturally the pitcher went to the well
too often. One of the servants consid
erately informed the master of mad
ame's "carryings on," and monsieur
came unexpectedly upon the turtle
doves last Wednesday evening. He was
not left in any doubt, Mr. T. P. jumped
out of the window, and was not shot
after; the lady dropped on her knees
and asked for mercy.
"Madame," said" M. de R., with a
calmness more terrible than would have
been an explosion of wrath, "be good
enough to get up and accompany me."
"But this costume?" she ventured to
protest. "Is perfectly appropriate,"
was the reply, and like another statute
of the commander, he led the way to
the armory. "It is all over with me,"
thought tlie marchioness. "He means
to cut my head off." But they passed
by the "glave of justice," and never
stopped until the' had reached the hel
met department. So far the prologue.
On Thursday morning, as the milk
carts came in at the Crenelle gate of the
fortifications, their drivers were aston
ished to see a female sitting on the
pavement clad only in a chemise, but
with her head surmounted by an iron
casque, from which floated an immense
plume of ostrich feathers. Who was
she? Whence came she? What was
the meaning of this strange accounter
ment? All these questions were asked
first by the milkmen, and then by the
police agents, who conveyed her to the
nearest guard house. Answers came,
but were inaudible. From behind that
lowered visor her voice sounded like
the bark of a little dog at the bottom
of a copper kettle with its cover on. At
last somebody thought that perhaps she
might be able to write her history,
which, as my readers may have sup
posed, is a Continuation of the promen
ade in the R. armory.
Then a locksmith was sent for, but
could do nothing toward ridding her of
her cumbersome headgear. There was
a secret spring, whose fastenings were
only known to the marquis himself. A
dispatch was posted off to R. but the
marquis had left for two years, said the
steward, and withoutgiving any address
except that of his banker in Paris, who
had not been told yet whitbor he was to
direct correspondence.
So stands the affair now, and the e is
no reason to anticipate its speed termi
nation. The victim is fed liquids
through a tube passed between the bars
of the helmet, and gets just enough air
to avoid suffocation. But can she en
dure the torture until her lord relents!
The steel is so marvelously tempered
that it turns the edge of every tool so
far tried upon it, and the unlucky
heroine of its extraordinary, but pos
itively veracious history is not likely to
derive much consolation from the in
scription found upon a piece of armour,
from which it appears that it is one of
the chefs d'oeuvre of the celebrated Flor
entine Armorer, Galotti, made by him
expressly for Alphonso D'Este, fourth
husband of the notorious Lucrezia
Borgia.
Alcohol and acetic acid, says J.
Beechamp, are constant and necessary
products of putrefaction. He has dis
covered alcohol also in small quantities
in normal and sound animal tissues.
The man who was approached from
the rear by a goat and went ov.r a six
foot wall and rooted up the ground for
three rods, on being revived told the
doctor that he hadn't, at the time of the
accidet, the slightest idea that he was
standing on a railroad track.
Those in pursuit of the marvelous
may get a grain of caution from the
following, taken from an article on
"Living Toads in Stone," by Thomas
G. Denny, in a recent number of Science
Gossip: "Most of us have heard of
Flint Jack,' but I do not think many
readers of the journal have met with
any manufactures of fossil toads; but I
knew, many years ago, a naturalist
living in Leeds" who used to prepare for
sale toads stated to have been fonnd
in beds of coal by baking them per
fectly black and hard in an oven, and
then taking square pieces of coal, and
after splitting them carefully, cutting a
hollow in each portion to receive the
'ancient reptile.' "
A "Wonderful Sermon.
We quote from Richard Henry Dana's
paper, in Scribner for November, on the
fate President Leonard Woods, of Bow
doin college:
Some thirty years ago, it had been
announced that President Woods was to
preach in what is now the parish church
of the Advent, in Bowdoin street, but
was then in the possession of a Congre
gational society, under the pastorate of
the Rev. Dr. Winslow. The house was
well filled. President Woods spoke ap
parently without even notes. He spoke
for nearly an hour and a half of a warm
summer afternoon, to a congregation
which had been used to set their men
tal chronometers to twenty or thirty
minutes. Yes, it was a case of "Con
ticuere omnes, intcntique ora tenebunt,"
from first to last There was not only at
tention, but anexcited.glowing attention.
His subject was "The Delayed Justice
of God," the text being: "Because sen
tence against an evil work is not execu
ted speedily, therefore," etc.
For his space of time, and his pur
pose, he was the master of every one in
the house, and Dr. Winslow, in his con
cluding prayer, was so carried away
that he entered unconsciously upon a
eulogy on the preacher, in thanking the
Almightv for the great privilege we had
enjoyed that day. At this time it was
rarely, if ever, that a preacher of the
orthodox sects took examples or illustra
tions from elsewhere than the scriptures;
but in this discourse it seemed that, as
was said of Burke, there had gone out a
decree that all the world should be tax
ed. . He drew his illustrations from all
the known experience of mankind. As
I have said, it is more than twenty-five
years since I heard that sermon; but I
can repeat, I think verbatim, many of
its finest passages, and retain a clear
memory of its thought and order.
After some years, happening to speak
with a scholarly and thoughtful man on
the subject of sermons, he said that the
best he had ever heard was one by Pres
ident Woods, in the old meeting house
in Bowdoin street, on the delayed jus
tice of God, and he proceeded to describe
it. Again, at New York, at a gathering
of men of letters, the subject of best
sermons was started, and one of the
number, a man of high repute as a wri
ter, said that, chancing to be in Boston
of a Sunday, some years before, he went
to hear President Woods, at Bowdoin
street, and there heard a discourse on
the delayed justice of God, which had
ever remained in his mind the ideal ser
mon. Thus, the only three persons I
know to have heard it, give it the first
place; and I doubt if any intelligent
hearer on that day will fail, even now,
to acquiesce in this judgment.
Close Communists.
Little Rock Gazette.
"If there ain't a chance in the relig
ious world pretty soon I am going to
throw down the gospel and take up the
grubbing hoe," remarked an old man
yesterday. 'Tve rid a circuit for forty
odd years, and I'm treated worse now
than when I fust begun."
'What is your cause of complaint,
parson," asked a bystander.
"My recent est cause is one what
flanks all others," answered the circuit
rider, wiping a drop of water from the
end of his peaked nose with the sleeve
of his brown jeans coat. "I have
pleached a good deal here in Little
Rock, and until recent it had alers been
nry belief that if a man could pull
through here he could pull through any
where. But 1 was blind wrong. Yes
terday I went in the Gum Lick district,
where I had an appointment to preach
in the school house. When I got there
I found that old man Wiggles, a hard
shell Baptist, had got in ahead of me.
I went in without any ill-feelings, in
tending to wait until he got through,
when I would muster my congregation
and take the field. After awhile he got
through preachin' and .announced that
sacrament would be taken when the
boy got back from the still house. 'My
congregation usus whisky instead of
wine,' he went on, 'and Arkansaw corn
bread instead of your wheat fixens.'
Just then the boy arrived, and the old
man tuk the cob stopper from the black
chunk bottle and began to pore out the
whisk'. Now, if there's anything that
strikes me natural, it is whisk', and
thinking I could preach better after
being warmed up a little, I went up to
the table and reached out after the bot
tle, when the old man looked at me and
said:
"Ain't you a Methodist?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Don't you know that we don't allow
the Methodists to communicate with us?
Do you take this place for a free lunch
counter, eh? No, sir, if you are not a
customer of the Lord, you can't eat and
drink here!"
"I've got a right to the table," I said,
"and I'llhelp mvself."
"Tetch that boUle and I'll lift you."
"I grabbed the bottle and the old
man struck me with a pone of corn
bread and knocked me down. Then
somebody kicked me and all hands
dragged me out."
"You got into a nest of close com
munists, did you?" asked the bystand
ers. "Ruther like it. Why, them fellows
would snatch a piece of bread from
Jacob and tear the bosom outen Abra
ham's shirt. No, sir; until there is
more freedom in church I shan't renew
my connections. Where can a fellow
get a two pound hoe?"
An English Waiter.
Thomas Bailer Aldrich In Atlantic Monthly.
In London there is a kind of hotel of
which we have no counterpart in the
United States. This hotel is usuall'
located in some semi-aristocratic side
street, and wears no badge of its servi
tude beyond a large, well-kept brass
door-plate, bearing the legend "Jones's
Hotel" or "Brown's Hotel," as the
case may be; but be it Brown or Jones,
he has been dead at least fifty Years,
and the establishment is conducted by
Robinson. There is no coffee-room or
puouc uimng-room, or even omce, in
this hotel; the commercial traveler is
an unknown quantity there; your meals
are served in your apartments; the fur
niture is solid and comfortable, the at
tendance admirable, the cunune unex
ceptionable, and the bill abominable.
But for ease, quietness, and a sort of
1812 odor of respectability, this hotel
has nothing to compare with it in the
wide world. It is here that the inter
mittent homesickness you contracted on
the continent will be lifted out of your
bosom; it is here will be unfolded to
you alluring vistas of the substantial
comforts that surround the private lives
of prosperous Britons; it is here, above
all, that you will be brought in contact
with Smith.
It was on our arrival in London, one
April afternoon, that the door of what
looked like a private mansion, in D
street, was thrown open to us by a boy
broken out all over with buttons. Be
hind this boy stood Smith. I call him
simply Smith for two reasons: in the
first place because it is convenient to
do so, and in the second place because
that is what he called himself. I wish
it were as facile a matter to explain
how this seemingly unobtrusive person
instantly took possession of us, bullied
us with his usefulness, and knocked us
down with his urbanity. From the mo
ment he stepped forward to relieve us
of our hand-luggage, we were his and
remained his until that other moment,
some weeks later, when he handed us
our parcels again, and stood statuesque
on the door step, with one finger lifted
to his forehead in decorous salute, as
we drove away. Ah, what soft despot
ism was that which was exercised for
no other end than to anticipate our re
quirementsto invent new wants for
us only to satisfv them! If I anywhere
speak lightly of "Smith, if I take excep
tion to his preternatural gravity (of
which I would not have him moult a
feather), if I allude invidiously to his
life-long struggle with certain rebellious
letters of the alphabet, it is out of sheer
envy and regret that we have nothing
like him iu America. We have Niagara,
and the Yosemite, and Edison's electric
light (or shall have it, when we get it),
but we have no trained serving-men
like Smith. He is the result of older
and vastly more complex social condi
tions than ours. His training began in
the feudal ages. An atmosphere charg
ed with machieolated battlements and
cathedral spires was necessary to his
perfect development that and genera
tion after generation of lords and
princes and wealthy country-gentlemen
for him to practice on. He is not pos
sible in New England. The very cut of
his features is unknown among up. It
has been remarked that each trade and
profession has its physiognomy, its own
proper face. If you look closely you
will detect a family likeness running
through the portraits of Garrick and
Kean and Booth and Irving. There's
the self-same sabre-like fhish in the eye
of Marlborough and Bonaparte the
same resolute labial expression. Every
lackey in London might be the son or
brother of any other lackey. Smith's
father and his father's father, and so
on back to the gray dawn of England,
were serving-men, and each in turn has
been stamped with the immutable
trade-mark of his elass. Waiters (like
poets) are born, not made; and they
have not had time to be born in America.
Man.
Extracted from an Old Volume.
The average weight of an adult man
is 140 lbs 6 oz.
The average weight of a skeleton is
about 14 lbs.
Number of bones, 240.
The skeleton measures one inch less
than the height of the living man.
The average weight of the brain of a
man is 3 lbs; of a woman, 2 lbs 11 "oz.
The brain of a man exceeds twice that
of any other animal.
The average height of an Englishman
is 5 feet 9 inches; of a Frenchman, 5
feet 4 inches, and of a Belgian, 5 feet 6 J
inches.
The average weight of an Englishman
is 150 lbs; ofa Frenchman, 136 lbs, and
of a Belgian, 140 lbs.
The average number of teeth is 32.
A man breathes about 20 times in a
minute, or 1,200 times in an hour.
A man breathes about 20 pints
of air in a minute, or upwards of 7 hogs
heads in a day.
A man gives off 4.08 per cent of car
bonic gas of the air he respires; respires
10,666 cubic feet of carbonic acid gas in
24 hours; consumes 10,667 cubic feet of
oxygen in 24 hours, equal to 125 cubic
inches of common air.
A man annually contributes to vege
tation 124 lbs of carbon.
The average of the pulse in infancy is
120 per minute; in manhood, 80; at 60
years, 60. The pulse of females is more
frequent than that of males.
The weight of the circulating blood is
about 28 lbs. .
The heart beats 75 times in a minute;
sends nearly 10 lbs of blood through
the veins and arteries each beat; makes
four beats while we breathe once.
540 pounds, or 1 hogshead 1 pints, of
blood pass through the heart in one
hour.
12,000 pounds, or 24 hogsheads 4 gal
lons, or 10.782J pints, pass through the
heart in twenty-four hours.
1,000 ounces of blood pass through
the kidnevs in one hour.
174,000000 holes or cells are in the
lungSv which would cover a surface
thirty times greater than the human
body.
A Remarkable Animal.
The Lfama will bear neither beating
nor ill treatment. They go in troops,
an Indian walking a long distance
ahead as a guide. If the Lamas are
tired they stop, and the Indian stops al
so. If the delay be too great the Indian,
becoming uneasy toward the sunset,
after all due precaution, resolves on
supplicating the bpasts to resume their
journey. He stands about fifty or sixty
paces off, in an attitude of humility,
waiving his hand coaxingly toward
them, looks at them with tenderness,
and at the same time, in softest tones,
reiterates ic, ic, id If the Lamas are
disposed to resume their course, they
follow the Indian in good order, and at
a regular pace, but very fast, for their
legs are very long; but when they are
in ill humor they do not even turn to
ward the speaker, but remain motion
less, huddled together, standing or ly
ing down, and gazing on heaven with a
look so tender and so melancholly that
we might be led to imagine that these
very singular and interesting animals
had the consciousness of another lifc.or
a happier state of existence.
The straight neck and its gentle maj
esty of bearing, the long down of their
always clean and glossy skin, their sup
ple and timid motion, all give them an
air at once sensitive and noble. The
Lama is the only animal employed by
man that he dare not strike. If it hap
pens (which is very seldom the case)
that an Indian wishes to obtain, either
by force, or even by threats, what the
Lama will not willingly perform, the in
stant the animal finds itself affronted
by word or gesture, he raises his head
with dignity, and without making any
attempt to escape ill treatment by flight
he lies down, turning his looks toward
heaven, large tears flow freely from his
beautiful eyes, sighs issue from his bo
som, and in a half or three-quarters of
an hour at most, he expires.
The respect shown these animals by
Peruvian Indians amounts absolutely to
superstitious reverence. When the In
dians load them, two approach and ca
ress the animal, hiding his head, that he
may not see the load on his back. It is
the same in unloading. The Indians of
the Cordilleras alone have sufficient pa
tience and gentleness to manage the
Lama.
Recipe for Happiness.
Denton, Md., Januarys. Curtis An
drews, living in the fourth district of
Caroline county, is now 82 years old.
His wife is nearly the same age and
they have lived together for sixty years.
Their life has been plain and laborious,
but their faces wear a look of smiling
content that draws .kindly feeling to"
ward them. Whca asked the secret cf
his happiness, Andrews replied: "Well,
sir, I have always noticed that there is
more trouble between man and wife over
making the fire in the morning than
anything else. If they can get along
smoothly about that everything else is
smooth. My wife and I went to house
keeping together in our log cabin nigh
fifty years 3go. We've only got one
fireplace, but that's a big one. When
we moved in I said to her: 'Sally, I'll
make the fire and I'll 'tend to "if I
made that tire, and it's been burning
ever since. For nigh fifty years I've
covered up that fire before going to bed,
and I've fixed it up in the morning. I've
never had any matches in the house,and
there are never any sulphur smells in
the household. While the fire burns,
sir, there is peace i i Curtis Andrews'
home."
IT IS WORTH A TRIAL.
"I was trembled for raanj years with Kidney
Complaint, Gravel, c; mv blood became
thin; I was dull and inactfve; coald hardlv
crawl about, and was an old worn out man afl
OTer, and could get nothing to help me, until
I got Hop Bitter.", and now I am a boy aeain.
My blood and kidneys are all right and I am
as active as a man of SO, although I am 72, and
I have no doubt it will do as well for others of
my age. It is worth the trial." (Father.)
FOOD FOR TH0UKHT.
Happiness is forgetfulness of self.
To be angry is to revenge the faults
of others upon ourselves.
Avoid an angry man for awhile a
malicious one for ever.
Nature is the master of talent; geniu?
is the master of nature.
Have a care of whom you talk, tc
whom, and what, and where.
Make not thy friend too cheap to thee
nor thyself to thy friend.
An idle reason lessens the weight ol
the good ones you gave before.
What is becoming is honorable, and
what is honorable is becoming.
Earnestness of puroose c m spring
only from strong convictions.
There can be no true thankfulness
where there is no benevolence.
You should forgive many things in
others, but nothing in yourself.
The good which you do may not be
lost, though it may be forgotten.
He that catches more than belongs to
him, deserves to lose what he has.
The more we help others to bear their
burdens the lighter will bo our own.
The trouble with many communities
is, that their dead men refuse to bo
buried.
Man believes that to be a lie which
contradicts the testimony of his own ig
norance. A friend cannot be known in prosper
ity, and an enemy cannot be hid in ad
versity. It is good in a fever, and miich bet
ter in anger, to have the tongue kept
clean and smooth.
Never send your guest who is accus
tomed to a warm room, into a cold,
damp bed to sleep.
Taking a penny that does not belong
to one removes the barrier between in
tegrity and rascality.
Patience ou a monument, is all wull
enough for poets, but doctors plant their
patients b neath.
Never fail to offer the casiestand best
seat in the room to an invalid, an elder
ly person or a lady.
Never neglect to perform the commis
sion which the friend intrusted to you.
You must not forget.
An Unpiiblished Story of Lincoln.
Relltfous Telescope.
It was during the fiercest stages of the
great war of the rebellion that several
of our ministers called on President
Lincoln on an important errand. Mr.
Lincoln received them with great
courtesy, and gave them a good audi
ence. When the brethren arose to leave
the room, one of them, probably Dr. L
Davis, said, "Mr. Lincoln, you have
been very kind and painstaking to
answer our questions. We have yet one
which our pe jple are deeply interested
in and which we wish to put before you
for an answer. What do you here at
Washington in'end to do with slavery?' .
That interrogation opened a momentous
question.
Mr. Lincoln was ready for the emer
gency. Rising to his feet and straight
ening up his bony form, he said, "Gen
tlemen, I will tell you how it is. The
treatment proposed by the officials here
for the slaver' question is about like
what would be proposed by a set of
doctors for a wen on a person. There
is a man with a large ugly wen on his
person. He consults a number of phy
sicians about it They all agree as to
two things. They all agree that it is a
wen; that js the lirst thing. They all
agree that it must come off. About the
method of removing itthevdo not agree.
One says the best way is to put the
knife into it and with the knife remove
it. One advises powerful gxternal ap
plications with a view to its removal.
Another thinks the better way is to put
a cord tightly around it and every day
draw it tighter, until at last a severance
will of itself occur. That, gentlemen,
is just the way it is here with us. We
are all agreed that slavery is a wen on
the government We are all agreed
that it must come off. We are not yet
agreed about how to do it." With this
the clergymen shook heartily the hand
of the good president and went away.
Entertaining' a Corpse.
A singular story comes from the far
west, in which a former citizen of Omaha,
Neb., and a "washee, washee" Mongo
lian of Dillon station, a littletown at the
terminus of the Utah Northern railroad,
figured conspicuously. The story was
told by a gentleman just in from the
the west, and is to tin effect:
Mr. Byrne.a carpenter by trade, has a
shop in Dillon. About three weeks ago
a Chinaman employed in a restaurant
at Dillon, and who was a confirmed
opium eater, dropped dead, as was eup
posed, on the floor of the restaurant.
The proprietor notified his countrymen,
who came in one hundred and fifty
strong, to look at the body, but declined
to take it off his hands or contribute
toward a burial fund. At length the
proprietor,thrown on his own resources,
offered Byrne 10 to take the body to
his shop and take care, of it, and $25
more to make a coffin and give the body
a decent interment.
Mr. Byrne accordingly took the corpse
away, made the coffin and placed the
body therein and was just putting the
lid on to nail it down, when up rose
John Chinaman in his coffin and began
jabbering heathen Chinee at him.
Although somewhat surprised, the
pro tem undertaker sent again for the
Chinamen; this was the evening of the
same day, and they opened their hearts
so far as" to contribute the money to buy
a quart of whisky for their companion,
and then left him'in Byrne's care. The
night was very cold and the undertaker
built a fire, sat beside it and drank the
whisky with his corpse, and then laid
on a pile of shavings and went to sleep,
leaving John sitting bolt upright on the
bench. As the nhrht waned the fire
went out and John grew colder and
colder, until at length he fell over.off on
the floor and soon froze stiff", a "stiff"
sure enough thi3 time.
Byrne was saved by the liquor he had
taken and by his bed of shavings, and
when he awoke and found John dead
again, he evinced no surprise, but coolly
proceeded with the work where he had
left off the day before. John wa3 nailed
up and "planted" in good style, and he
received his well earned $35.- Mr.
Knott, the informant, vouches for the
truth of this story, which we regard as
equal to some of Mark Twain's interest
ing adventures.
M. Smosee, a Belgian engineer, pro
poses to utilize the safety-lamp for re
vealing the presence of fire-damp in
collieries. It is well known that the
flame of the lamp elongates and re
quires a higher caloric power when in
air which contains light carburetted hy
drogen, or marsh gas. A piece of
metal is so placed as to be elongated
by this flame; this produces electric
contact, and causes a bell to ring. Sev
eral of these lamps should be placed in
different parts of the mine and the bells
numbered.
Things that will wear are not to be
had cheap Whether it be a fabric or a
principle, if it is to eudure it must cost
something. Glitter, tinsel, brilliant
coloring, may all be had without much
expense; but, if we would nave strength,
firmness and permanence, we must pay
for them.
Vert taking. Colds. Very glad.
The Druggists. The very best remedy.
Dr. Bali's Cough Syrup.
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