z5&&.
5Ksi3
raBE53&g&:agi
sa
ft
1
6
BED CLOUD CfflEFl
A. C HOSME. Proprietor.
ED CLOUD. .-. NEBRASKA
THE COWBOY IN THE EAST. "
The Indians be slashed and gashed and slapped
and slew and slaughtered:
He'd boot and shoot the bowling Ute. who
squealed and reeled aad tottered;
Be'd bang and whang at every gang of robber
and marauder.
The horse thief strung on tte limb be bung, aad
thus kept law and order.
3n every fight bis lack be struck and never met
disaster;
In glen and den, 'mid brutes and men. be nerer
found a master:
No gash or slash could ever dash against bis
front terrific,
2?o foe could stand bis red right baud that
slugged so scientific
The rattlesnake be punched and crunched; a
overthrew the bwon;
Be sought and fought an awful lot each beast-
"neatn the horizon.
No scar or jar could ever soar, no harm ooald
ever get him. "" ,
Bat want of breath and speedy death o'ertaek
all things that met him!
2ut to the town be came for fame, be moved
into the city;
"He fell, ah well: I grieve to tel the pity.' oh,
the pity! -
Hed hit and split his bead, and get a braise at
every crossing. "" i " .
.And the berdic man and the moving- Tarn, bis
rnargled Xorm was fbsstag.
"Whene'er be crossed trie-street bis feet with
-wheels and things were tangled:
And his frame became a ' bloody shame, all
rnaiaed and mossed and mangled;
Bed tall ax.d sprawl ngktaro' it all. ha bases
TS-ith most of his race stink tube wrangnce, L
all dislocated
and both o: bis leefnusmatedl
And soon it came to piss thee, the big gas
honse exploded i "" '' "
And he ah me : was rat Jo's see, ae cMnr
O, nv: in the sky he shot? as Taighas wafeoi-1
tractor"sbounues,xrj ,,- , ,, .
And his scattered frame was fblxnc, they rralfa,
in nineteen different counties!
S. W. Foss. in Yankee Blade.
'COXTESSAJlOSEfcLC 1
The Adventures . of . a Modern
Borneo in Romantic Venice.
The ball at the Villa Borghese was
over, and Philip Leighton, one of the.
guests who felt the evening well spent,
was going leisurely homeward on
foot. It was a clear, moonlight night
in the bonny month &t 'May, and such'
a night in Florence. Ifcithiits" violet sky
own with golden stars, is a blessing
not to be wasted under the roof of a
cab
Jack Templeton's sister dances like
a fairy, and keeps a fellow amused;
Faye Norton is so deucedly pretty one
forgets and forgives her silly speeches.
What hair she has! Upon my soul, I
believe I'm in love with them both!'
Thus musing, the young man crossed
the Piazza del Duomo and turned into
the sleepy Via Ricasoli, which seemed
quiet as the aisle of an empty church
Presently, out of the shadow, Philip
saw two women approacning, ooin
"videntlv frightened at finding them-
elves alone in the street at so late an
'iour. At seeing tue young man icey
topped, hesitated, and then advanced
amin. aDDarenuv reassurea uy a.
glimpse of his honest, comely face,
revealed in the moonlight.
A thousand pardons, signore," be
gan & sweet voice in Italian, "but I
and my maid are not able to open our
door; possibly your stronger hand
might make it yield.'
The house indicated was a grim old
palace, many stories high, built of
heavy blocks of stone, like a prison.
Statues looked down from many a
niche, and the lower windows were
guarded with the "kneeling" grating
invented by Michael Angeio.
Philip threw himself upon the heavy
wrought-iron fastenings of the door,
but they refused to give way even
under his vigorous shaking.
"The door closes with a latch in
side; a sharp blow will sometimes
open it without the key, which Gia
cinta has unluckily lost. There is no
one inside the house to come to our
rescue; we are really in a very awk
ward plight."
The white-lace fichu had fallen back
aver the shoulders of the gentle-voiced
stranger, and Philip saw that she was
exquisitely pretty, with the pensive,
dark eyes of her race, and a tender,
sensitive mouth. Her lips quivered,
and there was a hint of tears in the
liquid eyes.
This was too much for Philip, who.
instead of acknowledging himself baf
fled by the door and resuming his
homeward route, vowed within him
self to see these fair dames safe under
the shelter of their own roof, or perish
in the attempt. Poor old Giacinta was
not. strictly speaking, fair, but the
aureola of beauty emanating from her
young mistress seemed, to Philip, to
encompass the faithful attendant with
its benign influence
Across the street was a ladder lean
ing against a house in process of repair.
ax. sight of which Philip's look of per
plexity vanished.
'Does the open window in the second
story lead to the sigcora's rooms?1 he
asked, eagerly.
W- tTincn nya run iruimc Thp ?-t
-of the house is unoccupied or we could
hope to wake up somebody to let us in.
"If it is not too audacious a proposi
tion.' continued Philip. "1 will climb
up to your balcony, Romeo fashion,
with that ladder, descend the stairs,
and open your refractory door from the
inside.'
"The same thought had occurred to
-me, but I did not like to express it. It
Is a dangerous height, you might fall,
and it is an unreasonable service to
ask ol a stranger.'
Pray do not think of any inconven
ience it might be to me: your confidence
is quite reward enough. May I make
-the attempt?"
"I should be only too thankful."
"1 have plenty of wax matches in my
pocket. Am I likely to find any ob
stacles to my progress between the
window and the hall door?"
"So; you have only to cross one
large' room aad aa-aAe4ne"teiee
findingymrsclf -at-tbe stairs." ;
W ith surprising dispatch Philip tilted
the swaying ladder into place beneath
the balcpnjr of the old pautzzo, and
began the ascent.- ' j L " ' CTPj "
"I becof vbu.- sin. 5eaueMIsmii'
the girl, lightly touching his arm for
a moment with her slender white hand.
Philip looked down into her face
with one brief, soulful glance that
seemed to say: "For you I would risk
my life gladly."
"May the Holy Madonna and all the
saints protect the noble signorino!"
Glacinta exclaimed. shestesaSecf the
ladder with her sturdy shoulder. The
ladder was a little snort and where ft
stopped there" was. need for a clear
head and iron wristto void actlflent.
Inspired by thosercares sing eyes fol
lowing hixaso intently. Philip-mastered
the difficulties and gained the ledge of
the window without "more- 'serious' mis
haps than a cut on his wrist.
'What will Uncle Gipo think of this
adventuae, Giacinta?" said the young
lady, as their .knight-errant disap-
fp&area' wlthin-tha, window.
He ought to be thankful we were
not obliged to finish the night in the
street."
It is indiscreet and imprudent.
doubtless,' to allow a perfect stranger
to enter our rooms alone, but I m sure
he is a gentleman whom, we can trust.
Do you not agree with me. Giacinta?"
'There couldn't be a dishonest soul
'beliind a face like that, signorina mia.
-Trust an old woman's eyes for telling
good from bad. fie looks like the
blessed -San Michele at Santa Maria
Novella."
Giacinta' s rhapsody was interrupted
by a burst of drunken laughter coming
round a near corner. To escape a
baild "of " midnight revelers, the two
women shrank into the shelter of a
gateway.
I "Aoueerish sort of an errand for a
fellow. to be bound on, 'thought Philip,
as "he scrambler! uver the balcony,
dropprng-himseif through the dark
,maw o window into what may be
me ooupmiess pit. or. a aen oi luioves,
tor aughl h'e: knows!' -More likely to
be a stronghold" of' spooks,' 'from the
general aspect of things. My stars!
what's that?"'
Swinging himself cautiously into the
room, he had lit upon a sleeping cat,
which promptly punished his intrusion
by plunging a vigorous aet of claws
through the young man's silk stocking.
'Her pet, I suppose." And instead
of giving the cat the vicious kick his
evil nature dictated, Philip stroked its
silken coat till a cozy purring re
sponded to his touch. By the light of
his wax matches he saw that his wrist
was bleeding from the cut, and he
pulled out his handkerchief and hastily
bound up the wound before proceeding
further. His card-case slipped out of
his pocket with the handkerchief and
fell unnoticed to the floor.
Philip found himself in a very large
and handsome room with the rich
painting and gilding of the De Medicis
period. All was tarnished and worn
now; the once elegant furniture was
dropping to pieces, and the hangings
were faded and torn. A chair lay
overturned, and the drawers of a tortoise-shell
cabinet were pulled out and
their contents strewn carelessly about,
as if one had made a rapid search for
something regardless of order.
Philip would have gladly taken a
more lingering look at the old portraits
peering down at him from the walls,
some of them with dark, searching
eyes so like those of his lovely protege.
but a feeling of delicacy prompted him
to make his way through her rooms as
quickly as possible.
He hastened down the stairs, lifted
the latch, and admitted the two wo
men, more agitated than ever owing
to the disturbance caused by the
drunken men.
I can never sufficiently express my
thauks. signore." said the young girl,
holding out her hand. "You have
spared us more annoyance than you
can realize."
Giacinta covered Philip's hand with
kisses, and swore she would burn a
thick taper for him the next day at
Santa Maria Novella.
May I not know the name of our
benefactor?" the lady continued.
Philip, overjoyed at what seemed
the overture to a more intimate ac
quaintance, searched in his pocket for
his card-case, but, to his perplexity
and annoyance, failed to find it.
Might I have the pleasure of call
ing to-morrow to bring the card I seem
stupidly to have mislaid?1 he asked,
with some hesitation.
"I certainly wish to know to whom
we are indebted for so great a service.
My friend, Madame de Carolat. is
coming to tea to-morrow at four. Will
you come then? But I must introduce
rnvself. I am the Contessa RosellL
Now. as it is so shockingly late, I must
j bid you good-night.
Thank you a
thousand times, and do not disappoint
us to-morrow."
"Not for any thing under heaven."
Philip murmured half audibly, as the
heavy door shut away from him the
gaze of the girl's star-like eyes.
There was now no more perplexity
in the young man's mind as to whether
he preferred Jack Templeton's sister
to Faye Norton. He had forgotten
them both, and had no thought in his
heart save for the lovely Italian.
Like culprits the two belated women
stole up the stairs to their rooms.
Giacinta lighted the old Soman lamp,
and by its soft, steady isame of olive-
oil the familiar old portraits looked
down as if welcoming them home.
"Why. Giacinta! what does this
mean? My desk wide open, and all
the papers scattered about. Ob. Ma
donna Mia! the mosey from the Libro
Aperto ""Vineyard was there fifteen
Ituadrer f rancs!" The young girl flew
to the desk and. plunged her hand into
a drawer at the side. v "Gone! Giacinta,
we are robbed!'., and 'she. buried her
face desparingly in tee cushions of the
nearest .sofa. . "
"The Holy Mother grant you are
mistaken, carina!
"I am not mistakes, alas! In that
drawer I pufr the money while Paolo
waited for the receipt. I remember
doing so with painful distinctness.
Paolo sat there on the blue ottoman. I
let him set down because of his lame
foot. He went quietly away after get
ting his receipt, and I locked the money
in the drawer as usual."
Giacinta fumbled wildly about among
the papers, but all to no avaiL The
money, was certainly gone.
"And he with a face like the blessed
San Michele.1 she moaned.
"No. no; you are mistaken, arnica
mia!" cried the contessa, reading the
suspicion in the old woman's eyes. "I
would as soon accuse you of robbing
me, you faithful old granny. Our rooms
must have been entered earlier in the
evening. The window was open, and
the ladder conveniently near. Many
rough men were abroad to-night, owing
to the fesla at Cajano. No, you need
not lose faith in San Michele, as you
-call him. Something impels me to trust
to the honesty of that young stranger
who helped us, as I would trust my
brother Ugo in Heaven."
"The Madonna herself put that trust
in your pure heart, bambina mia, and
I, too, hare faith in the young signo
rino; but, ah, me! it's hard losing all
that money!"
'The worst will be telling Uncle Gino.
He will be furious. What a night of
misfortune this has been."
And yet. in spite of the great mis
fortune she had sustained. Countess
Natalia Roselli. as she drifted into
dreamland for a few hours, felt that
this special night had bees fraught
with a new, rare happiness for her.
She awakened to a stormy, painful
scene. Ill news travels quickly. Gerino
Roselli Natalia's uncle, had heard of
the robbery, and had come for full par
ticulars. "What is this wild story of Gia
cinta's?' he began, angrily. "You
have had the colossal folly to let a
street-vagrant loose in your rooms. Of
course he improved his opportunity
and took your money."
"Uncle, I'm fully convinced the
money was stolen before this gentle
man came to our assistance. The
window was open; the ladder carelessly
left near by the workmen. Paolo saw
me put the money in the desk; possibly
he succumbed to the temptation."
"What preposterous nonsense! You
would throw suspicion on an honest
eonloJmo. who grew old in your father's
service, to screen a well-dressed, soft
spoken blackleg! Who is this fine
gentleman, pray? Where does he live?
Of course, if he is honorable he has
told you all this?"
"He wished to give his card, but
had none with him; he is coming this
afternoon to present himself in due
form."
"A likely story! And you, you con
fiding innocent, do you realize that the
loss of this money leaves you with next
to nothing to live upon till the Rovez
zano rents are due? What do you
mean to do?"
"Certainly not ask charity from you.
Uncle Gino. Giacinta and I have
already learned what sharp -poverty
means, and we caa bear this misfor
tune as we have borne others." A
proud fire burned in the young con
tessa's eyes as she spoke.
"What's this?" said Roselli. as he
turned on his heel to leave the room.
His foot bad struck against a small ob
ject lying on the floor in the shadow of
a table. It was Philip's card-case.
Roselli opened it and read on the first
card, " "Mr. Philip Leighton. Via Pa
lestro. No. 23.' This is probably the
name of your gallant rescuer," Ro
selli added, sarcastically. "Rather a
suspicious circumstanee to find his
card-case iving so near the plundered
desk."
"1 will keep it for him till he comes."
said Natalia, holding out her hand in
quiet dignity.
"By all means, my dear, keep it till
he comes. 1 hope your confiding
patience will not be put to too severe a
strain."
Roselli took one long, searching look
at the card, and resigned the pretty
leather toy to his niece's keeping.
For Philip, also, there wa3 a rude
awakening that morning. A furious
Italian gentleman demanded to see
him; asked an account of the last
night's proceedings, and accused him
of stealing fifteen hundred francs from
the Countess Roselli. A policeman
and cab were at the door, and before
he fairly realized what was occurring,
the bewildered Philip found himself
lodged in a cell at the Bargello. A
sad contrast to his dreams of imbibing
draughts of tea and enchantment with
his fair inamorata. He had no friends
in Florence of whom he cared to bor
row money, and he was not in funds to
bail himself out to keep his appoint
ment for four o'clock.
Count Roselli kept his own counsel
as to the summary measures he had
taken, and withdrew for a few days to
his podcre at Feltro.
As the day wore away with no signs
of Philip, Natalia said to her hand
maiden: "Giacinta, I'm haunted with the fear
that Uncle Gino has done somethiag
desperate about this miserable money.
I wish you would go to the Via Pales
tro and aak for Mr. Leighton."
Giacinta went, and returned in floods
of tears. Mr. Leighton had been ar
rested that morning. The padronm
said he was such a nice, open-handed
gentlemen; there must be some mon
strous mistake about it all
Natalia seized pen and -paper, and
sent Giacinta to the Bargello with a
tear-stained note declaring her belief
in his. Philip's, entire innocence, and
her shame at her uncle's conduct.
Philip. in durance vile, poured out as
much of his soul as the back of an old
play-bill would hold, in reply.
Thus these two lovers for the cruel
ty of the tyrant uncle had roused in
both young hearts this consuming pas
sion were made to suffer, each for the
distress of the other, in hopeless un
certainty. The third day of Philip's bondage, a
young woman, with a handkerchief
bound over one eye, presented herself
at the Palazzo Roselli and asked for
the young contessa.
"They tell me a young English sig
norino is in prison for stealing the
contessa's money." she began. "Per
haps they will let him free if I tell
what I saw on Thursday night when
the money was taken."
"What did you see? Tell me every
thing!" cried Natalia, eagerly.
"Pm chambermaid in the house
across the street. A bad headache was
on me on Thursday night; I couldn't
sleep, and came to the window for
fresh air. I saw two men prop a lad
der against your window. One man
was a big, brawny, evil-looking fellow;
the other was lame."
"This lame man, was he old or
young?"
"Old, signorina. with one shoulder
higher than the other."
"Paolo!" said Natalia, under her
breath; "My intuition was right. Go
on what happened then?"
"The big man began climbing the
ladder. I thought it all looked sus
picious, and I slipped out of my room
to give the alarm. It was dark as
pitch in the corridor, and I fell down
stairs, giving my head a furious blow
on the stone stairs. I was wild and
wandering-like till yesterday, because
of this wound on my head. To-day I
remember everything, and thought 'it
right, to tell the 6ignorina contessa.
May the Madonna strike me dead if
what I say is not true."
With all possible haste Natalia dis
patched a man of the law to Libro
Aperto, to question Paolo, the farm
servant. Paolo was accused of the
theft, frightened into a full confession
of his guilt, and the greater portion of
the money was recovered.
Philip, upon his release from prison,
learned from Italian friends the history
of the Roselli family.
The young contessa was considered
little less than an angel by those who
knew her welL
"Poor child !" continued Philip's in
formant, "she hasn't a friend or pro
tector on earth but that faithful old
nurse, Giacinta. Her uncle is a hard,
cruel man, and the rest of the family
are all gone. There is barely enough
money left to keep this young contessa,
the last of a long and noble line, from
actual want. The big palazzo has the
name of being haunted, and they can't
get a tenant for any of the scores of
rooms. I wish some prince would fall
in love with the contessina and give
her the surroundings she deserves."
"I. wonder if a poor artist would do
instead," thought Philip, as he betook
himself to the Palazzo RosellL
A week later .the poor artist, poorer
in his own estimation than in reality,
offered himself heart and soul to. his
beautiful patrician mistress.
"My darling Romeo. I could not live
without you." was her shy response to
his pleading. Lucy Blake, in Leslie's
Illustrated Newspaper.
"THE FORTY WINKS."
AavaatagM to Derive br Old Iwsple
frosm a Atteraooa Naav
Sleep is closely connected with the
question of diet. "Good sleeping" was
a noticeable feature in the large ma
jority of Dr. Humphrey's cases. Sound,
refreshing sleep is of the utmost conse
quence to the health of the body, and
no substitute can be found for it as a
restorer of vital energy. Sleeplessness
is, however, often a source of great
trouble to elderly people, and one
which is not easily relieved. Narcotic
remedies are generally mischievous;
their first effects may be pleasant, but
the habit of depending upon them
rapidly grows until they become indis
pensable. When this stage has been
reached, the sufferer is in a far worse
plight than before. In ail cases the
endeavor should be made to discover
! whether the sleeplessness be due to
any removable cause, such as indi
gestion, cold, want of exercise, and the
like. In regard to sleeping in the day
time, there is something to be said both
for and against that practice. A nap
of "forty winks" in the afternoon en
ables many aged people to get through
the rest of the day in comfort, whereas
they feel tired and weak when deprived
of this refreshment. If they rest well
at night there can be no objection to
the afternoon nap, but if sleeplessness
be complained of, the latter should be
discontinued for a time.- Most old
people find that a reclining posture,
with the feet and legs raised, is better
than the horizontal position for the
afternoon nap. Digestion proceeds
with more ease than when the body is
recumbent. Dr. Robson Ro ose, in Fort
nightly Review.
m m
'lis the accounts of a side-door
saloea that are kept up by a double
entry system. Hotel Maa,
HOW TO GROW RICH.
rather Ctarkaati Delivers Foiated TLee
tar aa Trae Ceoaoasy.
la early life we recollect hearing'a
youug man inquire of a venerable gen
tleman, who had accumulated a"large
estate, what the secret of his success
.was., lie said it was: "nnen you
earn seventy-five cents per day, spend
( only fifty cents of it aad keep out of
debt." That information, simple as it
was, has had an important influence
. upon' life's transactions. And if it
j were lived up to by a large mass of
i laborers, mechanics and all classes of
wage-workers the world would be a
great blessing. The rapidly increas
ing riches and consequent willful and
wicked extravagance of a large class
of our population is corrupting the
minds and misleading the practices of
the great mass of workers. Whilst
the riches are increasing, paupers are
multiplying much faster. There are
twice as many, according to popu
lation, of those who ask and re
ceive aid now as did fifty years
ago. And yet the wage-worker
receives twice as much now as
then. The articles of food cost no
more, and clothing not half as muchaa
then. Wage-workers of all classes,
both male and female, are not prosper
ing as formerly. They are not weekly,
monthly and yearly laying up a por
tion of their wages as then. They live
more extravagantly, spend more reck
lessly, and foolishly ape their neigh
bors in fashionable follies. Mechanics
appear, at least a large proportion of
them, not to attempt to make any pro
vision for the future. When they make
$15 or $18 per week, instead of per-
t manently investing at least one-third
1 of the amount, they spend it all. Then,
if work fails, or the man is taken sick,
or any member of his family, so as to
keep him from work, the family at
once becomes an object of charity, the
rents are unpaid, the butcher's bill
neglected. The man becomes discour
aged at the accumulated debts, until he
begins to debate with himself whether
he ought to try to pay the old debts.
So soon as he does that when he be
gins to study how to forfeit his honor,
repudiate his obligations, he is gone.
He no longer has that keen sense of
honor which teaches him to regard as
sacred his debts. Then he is no longer a
man. His pride, his ambition, and all of
the impulses which nerve and sustain
a man in life's conflicts, are gone. He
has not confidence in himself and
his neighbors have less. But if a man
lives by rule, uses the plain neces
saries of life, and scorns to ape the
follies and eorrupt practices of the
growing cussedness of the world, and
lays up carefully at least one-third of
what he earns, soon he will see tbere
are better days for him. A little
weekly and annually saved, the in
creasing accumulation of interest, the
increasing ambition, and the renewed
energy will soon build or buy a house.
Then the expense of living decreases,
and the saving can be more, until im
perceptibly the man with his family
find themselves in comfortable circum
stances, respected by the world, his
financial credit established, and he is
enabled to enter other enterprises than
as a day laborer.
We have seen these things worked
out and demonstrated all about us for
the last sixty-five years. The man
who spends as he goes soon has noth
ing to spend, but is broken down in
spirit, credit and character; but the
man who weekly saves a portion of
his earnings, economizes in his busi
ness, soon places himself among the
honored and respected. It is as cer
tain as the revolution of the spheres.
But the man who saves nothing sinks
lower in spirit, enterprise and charac
ter. He soon becomes too indolent to
work and not too proud to beg. And
he goes down as fast as gravitation will
take him. Trust no man who does not
regularly save and lay up a certain per
cent, of 'his wages. There is no hope
for him. He will become sour, abuse
those who prosper by saving and will
live a miserable life, hating the pros
perous and dying a beggar. "If you
earn seventy-five cents per day. spend
only fifty cents of it." Iowa State
Register.
m
BLACK IS WHITE.
A Seeaslagly Iaeontrovertlble Argasaea
front Etysaolagr
The word black (Anglo-Saxon Mae,
tec bleak.) is fundamentally the same
as the old German black, now only to
be found in two or three compounds,
as Blachfeld, a level or plain; Blach
mahl, the scum which floats on the top
when silver is melted, and Blachfrost,
and it meant originally "level," "bare,"
and was used to denote blackness, be
cause blackness is (apparently) bare of
color. But the nasalized form of black
t is blank, which also meant originally
" bare, and was use to denote whiteness,
' because whiteness is (apparently )bare
of color- The same word was used to
denote the two opposite things. From
which it would seem that black is white.
To any one who shall point out a flaw
in this etymological argument I shall
eadeavor to be grateful, provided he
does not disturb the very satisfactory
conclusion. This I should naturally
resent. It may help him to a conclu
sion and serve as a further support to
my contention to point out that bloc in
Anglo-Saxon actually means "white"
as well as "black," so that it is not in
its nasalized firm only that the same
word is employed to express opposite
things. Why is this, unless that to the
primitive mind both white and black
appeared to agree in being bare or
void of color, and for that reason to
deserve the same name? And here I
ca not help harboring a suspicion,
suggested by the Old German Blach
frost (which appears to be nearly ob
solete, or only used in some localities)
that our "black frost" meant originally
a frost bare of accompaniments, as
hoar, rime, and it is a coincidence only
that it should be black in color and
blacken the vegetation. But we have
long lost hold of the original meaning
and believe it to refer .to the color.
liotes and Queries,
INTELLIGENT MONKEYS.
Cartou Aaweriaiae off a CtU-aaaaaaa aa1 aa
Oraag Oataag-.
The great physiologist. Biumenbecav
had one of the monkey tribe, whosst
movements and conduct he carefully
watched for more than a year together.
It came to manage the wood for the
stove with great dexterity, and would
put it in with as much judgment and
economy as a cook-maid or a parsi
monious spinster. This animal was very
partial to the fire, like all other apes,
and would occasionally singe hiaaself.
when he would sally forth and roll
round in the snow with all the ecstasy
of a Russian after taking a warm vapor
bath at 180 degrees of heat. After en
joying this luxury for a time he would
return to his old quarters by the fire.
He once swallowed a lump of arsenic
large enough to have done the business
of ten Kalmucks, but in him it pro
duced only a trifling indisposition, ana
in a short while he was quite well again.
A work on insects happened to lie
for some time upon the table, and
which our philosopher contemplated
with solemn studiousness for about aa
hour. The illustrations particularly
riveted his attention; whether they
awakened reminiscences of his former
haunts is unknown, but when the book
came to be examined, it was discovered
that with consummate address he had
pinched out all the beetles of the large
plates and actually eaten them it is
supposed mistaking them for real in
sects in some unknown state of pre
servation. Some curious details are given of the
habits of orang outangs exhibited
many years ago in London. They were
male and female, the former the Chim
panzee, and the latter the Borneo. In
some respects they presented a marked
contrast, and did not show the least
tenderness or attachment to each other.
The social habits of the Chimpanzee
far exceeded those of the female.
In the morning, on first seeing a person
whom he knew, he would utter a loud
cry of recognition, and running to
wards him, would stand perfectly erect,
spreading his arms like a child to be
taken up. when he would wind them
around the neck of the individual in
the manner of the fondest embrace; nor
was it an easy task for those to whom
he was attached to leave the room ex
cept by stealth.
The instinct of providing and plac
ing warm materials for her bed was
most marked in the female, who would
be for two hours dragging blankets
from various parts of the room, smooth
ing and changing their position, and
beating any raised part down with her
knuckles, assuming at the same time a
look of gravity and an appearance of
wisdom.
The hearing of both animals was re
markably acute, and the knowledge of
sounds was accurately shown. They
also seemed to have a pretty good idea
of time, for as the hour approached at
which they were removed to their
nightly quarters, they would of their
own accord get the blankets, and en
fold themselves in readiness to depart;
and if their removal was protracted be
yond the usual time, it required force
to prevent them from going to the door.
The Chimpanzee having caught a
cold, he had a violent cough that in
sound was remarkably human; and
when a fit of coughing came on he was
usually given some sweetmeat or cor
dial to stop it. He soon adopted the
cough as means of obtaining these lux
uries. Really, those creatures that
"ape humanity so." create in us strange
and by no means agreeable sensations
about ourselves. N. Y. Ledger.
A HEALTHFUL DIET.
Fralt m TPerfeet rood 1st Sasasaer as Well
aa Wlater.
Some people are afraid to eat fruit,
thinking that fruit and diarrhoea are
always associated, when, if they under
stood the true cause of the diarrhoea,
they would know that it was caused by
eating meat. In hot weather meat pu
trefies very quickly, and during this
process alkaloids are formed which are
ery poisonous, acting as emetics and
purgatives- 'Tis true that fruit eaten
green or between meals will interfere
with digestion and cause bowel troubles;
but use fruit that is perfectly ripe at
meal-time, and only beneficial results
will follow.
Acids prevent calcareous degenera
tions, keeping the bones elastic, as well
as preventing the accumulation of
earthly matters. This is because of the
ol vent power of the acids : but manufact
ured acids are not harmless, as are those
which nature has prepared for us in
the various kinds of fruit. Fruit is a
perfect food when fully ripe, but if it
were in daily use from youth to age
there would be less gout, gall-stones
and stone in the bladder. Stewed ap
ples, pears and plums are favorite ar
ticles of diet. For breakfast or lunch
eon, in the dining room or in the nur
sery, there are few table dishes more
wholesome and more delicious than
well-stewed fruit served up with cream
or custard.
There are many persons, however,
who can not eat it on account either of
acidity of the fruit or the excess of
sugar necessary to make it palatable.
Sugar does not, of course, counteract
acidity; it only disguises it, and its use
in large quantities is calculated to re
tard digestion. The housewife may,
therefore, be grateful for the reminder
that a pinch, a very small pinch, of
carbonate of soda, sprinkled over the
fruit previously to cooking, will save
sugar, and will render the dish at once
more palatable and more wholesome.
Medical Classics.
e
Summer boarding. Algernon de
Swellton "Will you please pass me
the menu?" Eliza Jane "We haven't
any this morning, sir. They'ne not ia
yeL"
IBB
i n
I It
SH
USSGBUSEBJitZaSe.
J'i
- '-' ' -"'-
.mJF-fr.-fhf'" .i.K.r' n i , iBaViL. .-..-,..
.7lr&
SsaTQIIUIiWlJlai"WM "ii ' '- nisi-ii -m i-sv mi-i hi -i