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. "Ech. “â€"aâ€" The Ihreo Little Chairs- Ther sat alone by the bright we‘d are. The gray haired dame and the aged sire, Dreaming of do 's gone by ; The tear-drops fc on each wrinklcdchcek. They both had thoughts that they could not out. As each heart uttered a sigh. For their and and tearful cycs dcscried ’I'hree little chairs placed side by side Againstthe sitting-room's wall : Old-fashioned enough as there they stood. Their seats of rush and their frames of wood, With their backs so straight and talL Then the sire shook his silvery he' 6. . And with trembling voice he gently said : “ Mother. those empty chairs! _ ' They brin us such sad. sad thoughts tie-night. We'll put em forever out of sight In a small dark room upstairs." But she answered: " Father, no not yet, For I look at them, and I forget That the children went awn ; The boys come back, and our a . too, With her apron on of checkered b no. And sit here every day. “ So let them stand, though empty now, And ever time when alone we bow At the athcr's throne topray, \Vc'll ask to meet tho children above. In our Saviour's home of rest and love, “I here no child gocth away." The Story of The anl- In the library sat little Ruth, gazing ear- nestly at the bright glowing fire in the open grate, looking for the queer and beautiful pictures which I am sure all of you have seen some time or other in a coal fire. First there was the head of a dog, a splendid big dog, just like Watch, who lived next door, . and was the terror of all tramps who dared , set foot in the yard ; there over in the cor- ner, were a horse and rider : presently the rider fell off and rolled head long down into; the growing bed of coals. There was a cas- ‘ lie, and Bud), who had been reading of the p castlcd Rhine, thought she could trace the river running in a narrow stream of flame- across the grate. l “ I wonder where coal comes from and I what it is made of.” she said aloud. As she spoke a little red coal danced out j and u to her with the evident intention' of fin ing a resting place on her knee. As she started back in fear of being burned, a l queer thin little voice said,â€" ‘ “ Don’t be afraid, little girl, I heard you i wondering just now where the coal came“ from, and how it is made, and feeling in a ' very social, confidential mood, I thought I’d just ccmc out and tell you allabout it." “ Yes '2” said Ruth, pulling her hair to see whether she was awake or not. “ Yes, l I would like to know, but I never know before that coal could talk.” , ” Oh i ” laughed the coal, and burned redder than ever. “ Oh, yes, we can talk ! i I learned ages ago when the world was young.” . . " Why, how old are you?” queried Ruth. “ I am only five, and I’m lots bigger than 3 on. ’ y “ “'0“, I don’t exactly know myself, but by the nearest computation I must be some- . where in the neighborhood of a few million " years.” Ruth wondered very much what “compu- tation” could be, that made anything so 1 dreadfully old, and said,â€" “ Wliy, that's older then Methuselalil” “ Oh, bless you, yes!” answered the coal. : “ I lived ages before Methuselah was born.” “ Where did you live?” asked Ruth, now thoroughly interested in this antediluvian antiquity. . “ Well, I lived down, deep down, deep down in the earth; once, so long ago that I can scarcely remember it, I lived in a forest. I wasn’t coal then, but grew oh the bark of a fern; millions of us spores, as you would call us in these days, fell to the ground, and with other vegetable growth were subjected to great heat, moisture and pressure. This ', was what is known by scholars as the car-I boniferous age. ” “ What big words it uses for such a little thing!" thought Ruth. l “ For tl‘ousands of years, so many I never 5 could tellyou how many, we lay there until ' one day we were broken off in pieces by men ' with picks, and found ourselves in a large damp place, lit by little lamps which thcl men were in front of their caps. This was a coal mine, and the men were miners. We were next put in large cages, as they were called and pulled up by machinery to the top of the mine. And then once more, after so many years, we saw the sunshine. After going through the process of screen- I ing, which is the separation of the larger from the smaller coal, We were loaded on! cars and brought by railroad to this city,: where we became first the property of the coal dealers and then of your father. And now what nextwill happen us I am sure I cannot tell; we shall be thrown out to lie and shiver on an ash heap, I expect.” “ I will kee you myself, always, “said Ruth, “for to ling me such a nice story. I ; will put you away in a pretty little box, as mamma does her rings, and that can be your 1 house as long as I live.” “ Much obliged, l’m sure,” said the coal. . “ Speaking of your mother's rings, perhaps ' you do not know that I am second or third cousin to the diamond that flashes so bril» liantly in one of them.” " You 1” rather doubtfully exclaimed Ruth, not being able to see the slightest: resemblance between this insignificant little lump of half-burned coal and the beautiful diamond which sparkled with all the colors E of the rainbow on her inanima’s hand. “ Yes, I. You see, the diamond is the purest form of carbon found. New I am not so closely related as the coal which is . burned in your kitchen range ; that belongs .to the family of Anthracite, which is much harder and contains more carbon than the Cannel family, of which I am a member. 80 you see while your kitchen coal may be first I cousin, I come along third or fourth, but! near enough to claim relationship." I " Ruth !" called mamma from the next room, " Come, it is your bed time." Ruth very thou htfully went up-steirs . and made ready for l, and holding close- E III-ff her chubby hand the entertaining coal ,3 ’ ted away into the beautiful land of Nod. " Frank Willoughbyâ€"Eis Diarr- "‘ Mondayâ€"Couldn't aloe any last night, an get up this morning with a splittin lied eke. Thou dud set me to aplittin wood for bmkfus, and lied got more of it then the wood. Breakfus some as usual. Musty broad, weak coffee, and seen e. Tried to innugglo out of the house wi my Sunday teen, but me saw me an' the jig was up. bad tore a big hole in my every day ones an' ma saw that too, and give me Hail Col- ambit: Ma sees everything. I got to school all rite, but lost my gramer exercises on the way. Had to go back an’ hunt for it. I knew where I stopped to play marbles, an’ went there an’ found it in a mud hole. It was a little muddy, but all rite. I gotalong pretty good till the joggerfy class. I’m no good on joggerfy. When the teacher asked me where natural gas came from, an' I said Meringue-car she fainted. ’Twasn’t my fault, though, I thought that was the place. That was the only break I made to-day. an’ I got out of school without even a scoldin’. [The rest of the day must have been very dull, as Frank makes no mention of it.] “ Tuesdayâ€"Got up early and took a cold- water bath. Then more work on the wood- pile. Forgot to dry my hair in the back and it froze solid. Caught a bad cold and came near having ammonia. I don’t know what that is, but it must be something aw- ful, for the doc be said it was worse’n the measles. I don’t know what’s to become of me, nohow. [Frank becomes despond- ent.] I’m always in trouble. \Vhen I try to be good I get sick, an’ when I’m bad I get licked. So what’s a feller to do? “ \Vednesdayâ€"Too sick to split wood this morning. Pa. had to do it, and it made the luff to see him swettin’ away in the back yard. He cut hisself on the toe an’ swore awful. He used to make fun of me when I got hurt. Now he knows how it is hisself. The only thingI did to-day was sass a girl who said I stole her blotter. The teacher said I talked too much, and gave me 300 words to write. I got even with the girl, though. I pushed her off the sidewalk, and the mud splashed all over her dress. “ Thursdayâ€"Still too sick to work. I do wish there was some other heat besides sas- sage in this world. Ma buys it because there’s no waste to itâ€"no bones an fat. Just for a change I’d eat all the fat I could get and lick the bones clean. My sister Kate she’s got a feller named Peter Wilson. Icall him Pete for short. Kate hadn’t had no use for me today becos last night I handed Peter a chair with some molasses candy on the seat. After talking to my sister for several hours Pete got up to go. So did the chair. It stuck fast to Pete’s trousers. He had to get out his knife an’ cut the seat out of the chair before he got loose. N ow I didn’t put that candy there, but Kate an’ her feller they both think it was me. Just my luck. “ Fridayâ€"Hurrah, no school to-day ; “’ashington’s birthday. I don’t believe- that story, though, about what he said to his father when he cut the cherry-tree. I don’t see how a fellcr can live without lyin.’ {Only angels can do that, an’ I never saw any wings on \Vashington iii the pictures. “ Saturdayâ€"Broke my record this morn- ling. Split and piled half a cord of wood. Ma says she places great hopes in me. I feel like a liippycrit when she talks like that. I was walking peaceably along this afternoon when a feller named Thompson dared me to knock a chip off his shoulder. I never take a dare an’ so I gave a shove an’ the chip fell l off. Then be pasted me in the eye. I didn’t want to take off my coat nor nutliiii’ an’ just let him have it. \Vc had been figlitin’ about five minutes when some one hollored ‘cop !’ un’ me an" Thompson ran. I had a black eye an’ bloody nose, but the other fcller got as good as he sent. Now pa and ms. is awful different». Pa, he says : ‘ You are a Willoughby out an’ out an’ I glory in your spunk. Ma, she says: “ That’s what you get for going in bad company. You are a disgrace to the family.’ I don’t know what to make of it all. But I guess if ms. was 8. man she wouldn’t treat me like that. “Sundayâ€"This is the dullest day I ever spent in my whole life. Sunday always makes me tired. When I’m at home they won’tlet me do nut hin,’ and in the afternoon they make me go to Sunday school. Just as if I didn’t get school enough on week days You bet, when I get to be a man I won’t treat my little boys like that.” ' When the father had finished reading this, he looked at Frank a moment and said: “ \Vcll, my boy, you are a genuine young American after all. Just go to your room and stay there for the rest «if the evening, and hereafter don’t go outside the yard un- til I give you permission. I don’t like the way you express your sentiments about me and things in general.” A JAN-BREAKER. The outlandish Name of a llanilet in Wales. All the world has split its sides over Mark Twain’s happy description of the unpronumi- cable npuns, a yard or two long, which he discovered on going into Germany. But there exist words which outrun these by many a syllable. The seat of Anglesey is the picturesque island bearing the same name, which lies just off the Welsh coast and which is connected by a bridge with the mainland. Here the marquis has a charming mansion, while nestled away is the little village of some 800 inhabitants ; near by one finds the little church as well as the country post- ollice. Now the name of the hamlet is pure- ly \Vclsh, abounding in consonants and minus a. single connecting hyphen I found it required a good deal of practice to pro- nounce it without a gasp. It runs thus : " Llanfairpwllgwyuglgertropwllgerchwr- mpwltgogcrpwllsaintdeisilliogogofgoch i” As the postotlice is a somewhat importont one in the neighborhood, handling a quant~ ity of mail, it became necessary to shorten the above address, which was then reduced to : ” Llaufairp w 1 lg w y n g y l l.”â€"Wide Awake. Absalom Reversed- Thc Hon. \V. H. Ray of Annapolis, N.S., while out judging the damages by right of way on the line of the Nova Scotia Central Railway became separated from his com- panions, and as he was passing through a piece of thick woods hehad bot feet caught- in a moose trap. In an instant he wasdang- ing in the air, strung up by the feet, with his head just reaching the ground. Despite all his odorts he was unable to reach the snare with his hands. His gun had slipped out of his reach and he was unable to fire the two signal shotssgreed upon with his companions at parting. He yelled for a quarter of an hour, when he was heard by his companions and rescued. A wealthy dfether always receives the respect an veneration due to old age. When is a young man making love and not making love i \l on A. mm or DEATH. A Terrible Night um Rockies. 7 ‘ “ Once upon a time,”as the‘ old story- books put it, I was deputed by the owner to investigate matters concerning the devel- opment of a certain gold lode situated well up in the foothills of the Rockies, about eight miles distant from a little city whose eastern boundary was on the lains and the southwest defined by the mfg ty bastions of the “ spine of the continent.” Extending southwesterly into the mountains was a very good though rather precipitous road, used for the t rtation of ore to the reduction works and supplies into the numerous min- ing camps scattered about through the mountains, for most of the bills were dig- gers. And such digging! Though solid granite or uartz~rock at the -- point of the drill and t e blast of the dynamite cart- ridge. Yet for all that those indefati ble seekers after sudden wealth had drille the entire district until it appeared to the stran- ger like the burrowing ground of subteran- anean creatures who could claw through gran- ite. No sharper commentary could be found on earth on men’s bright he as and bitter dis- appointments than those a andoned “ pros- pect holes,” where time and health and hope up to the limit of human endurance and desperate effort, had been vainly lavished upon the unremuuerative rocks. But the occasionally discovered “ pocket,” where nature liad stored up great treasure, to be his who opened the mighty casket; where in one ineffable moment of supreme delight, the dirty, dangerous toil, the un- certain shelter, and the sow-belly and beans and slumgullion of the shanty would be ex- changed for wealth and ease and all that which makes life worth the living. Poor fellows, it’s no wonder that they dug, even to the death. But to return to “ The Trail.” 1 had reached the little city referred to in the be- ginning late one Saturday evening in May, and was informed at the hotel that I could not get transportation to my objective point in the mountains before the ensuing Monday, but, as it happened, a miner from the camp to which I was bound came into the hotel late Sunday afternoon and, being informed that he would pilot me over by “ The Trail,” I at once accosted him with the request to be his companion back to camp, telling him that my time was limited and I wished to take a train east on Monday night. He heard me through without interruption, and then replied, in a singularly deep but plea- sant voice: “ I shall go over on “ The Trail,” which is very tiresome to a person not used to walk- ing in this country.” \Vhen I hastened to assure him that I was an exceptionally good walker and would not impede his pace, a curious half humor- ous expression lighted up his grave, strong face, and shone vividly in a pair of the mo: t beautiful eyes I have ever seen, in man or woman, as he asked me if I had walked very much in the Rocky mountains. I told him no, but I had less to carry me to where man could go. “ It is not the legs,” said he, “ but the lungs, that will be the hardest tried, the air is much lighter than. you havebeen accustom- ed to breathe, and I would advise you to wait until tomorrow and ride over, but if you must go, certainly I will show you the way. We will start, soon.” ‘ ' And so it came to pass that we set forth together about 4 p. m. We went by “ The Trail,” and a more diabolical route could not, I think,have been engineered in Sheol. My companion, whose gaunt, flexible frame swung easily along without indication even of quickened breathing, while it seemed as though mv heart would burst, and the sharp, quick gasps for the air that could not fill lungs grown at the level of the sea,souiid- ed more like whistling than breathing, but the highest point of our ascents was nearly reached, and I plodded desperately forward, when at a certain pass my guide told me to fall behind a little, and follow carefully, keeping him in direct line, and to go slow. I‘couldn’t see much, but I felt that death was bordering the path we trod. , Suddenly there was a stumble of the man ahead. A half-suppressed exclamation, and I was alone ! I called out, but there was not even‘ an answei ing groan. Alone at night, not daring to move one step on that infernal trail, lest I should fol- low the iuan who had disappeared into eter- nal darkness. The memory of the horror of bat moment will go with me to the end, though all else that I have felt, or thought, or lived, may be obliterated from my mind. The chill air of the mountain was benumb- ing me and I felt that unless I could make some physical effort, I might as well have gone with the guide. In reaching out around me my hand came into contact With a small tree and I gripped that sapling as a drown- ing man is said to take hold of a straw, but . bore no weight upon it until I had satisfied , myself that it was strongly rooted. I determined to cling there until mornin if mind and muscle could bear the fearful strain. Probably an hour had passed, when out of the silence and darkness there came a distant wailing sound, growing nearer mo~ meiitaril until it ended in a scream of such sustains intensity that I knew nothing hu- man could have uttered it, even in the direst extreme of fear or pain, and there instant- ly flashed into my, mind the thought of the mountain lion. The great cat had scented the blood tn the rocks below, and how long would it be ere he discovered the proximity of living game. I well know that these creatures, like all his kind, preferred to kill their own meat, and how long would it be ere his acute senses discovered a satisfactory mealâ€"my- self. So far I had been “mute as fox mid mangling hounds,” but I felt now that I must voice the horror that possessed me or go mad. In that moment I thought that I saw a moving light not very far away, down the mountain,and the next instant I heard voices. I have no idea of what kind of bowl I let loose, but it must have been horrible enough as one of the men told me afterward they thought it must be the devil, and were on the point of getting out of the locality, when my second call of “ Help 3” reached them in tones they rec ized as human. They came uickly up and ound me clinging tomy tree. I told them briefly what had he peued and went with them to a shanty a ut a half mile away. A pint of such whisk as would dissolve the bristles on a pig, an a fire, re- stored me to something like the condition of a living man then I slept. The next morn. ing we went over to that place, and as I look ed over the brink of that awful chasm, and saw what, a posted to be a bundle of rags W hen he is pressing hi8,300 feet beow upon the jagged rocks a 041“ istrange feeling came over me. I have never fainted, but if the dreadful sense of sinking intd n‘othingness' which swiftly came upon me as I looked into that gulf was a premonitiond certainl had been overcome by the hidebus sugges iveness of that splotch of rags lying so quietly in the dimly-lighted gorge. I have been present more than once, when ugly things to look upon were ha posing, but there is no terri~ be memory shall so surely carry to the end as that of my. first experience in the Rockies. â€"_.______.____â€" The Russian Famine. Concerning the awful destitution that pre- vails in the Kazan Province, on the banks of the Volga, the following letter was recent- ly written by M. Mikbnevitcli,a staff corre- spondent of the St. Petersburg Noresti’, who, in company with a physician, made a tour of that district. I translate it from the D:.fcnnil' Poznanski', ~of Pinon, Prussia. It was intended only for private circulation, as the Russian government is putting forth every ssible effort to suppress the facts in regar to the suffering that is being endur- ed by the perishing thousands. “ The famine is increasing at a most ap- palling rate. The aid thus far rendered the sufferers is buts drop in the ocean of dis- tress. We came first to the village of Mi- kliaylovka, which comprises about fifteen hundred inhabitants. The place had the ap- pearance of being quite deserted, as scarcely any one was seen upon the streets. On en- tering a peasant’s house, our attention was first attracted to a bundle of rags and an old hat that were lying upon a bench. As the pile seemed occasionally to move, we turned it over, and were astonished to find the man of tne household lying underneath, a - pareutly suffering from a high fever. Hlfs body was almost rigid, and as the doctor examined him, he betrayed hardly any signs of life. His face was pale and expression- less, save, perhaps, as it indicated the aban- donment of hope. His eyes were fixed on us, though they manifested not the slight- est gleam of intelligence. “ Just think of it! In Kazan Province alone there are 950,000 human beings dying of hunger, while fifteen neighboring prov- inces contain twenty-seven millions of peo- ple almost as bad ! A truly pathetic picture is presented by these millions of peasants dying the slow death of starvation without a murmur, While the Government Relief Com- mittee have as yet only discussed a means of alleviating the distress ! The deliberations of this distinguished commission, under the presidency of the Czarowitz, are securely bound with red tape and an impenetrable mystery, though, thus far, they have seemed to consist mainly in diligent efforts tosup- press all accurate news relating to a. calamity unparalleled in the history of this sorrow- strickeu empire. Perhaps this is why the civilizei nations of the globe have as yet looked only with apparent indifference upon this lamentable situation. But I am proud to note that the United States were the first to offer assistance, which was gratefully accepted: while, through the mule-like stu- pidity of the autocrat on the Russian throne the prompt aid of Englandwas peremptorily refused. This was a crime which, the en- lightened pcoples of the world should not condoneâ€"a crime against humanity to stand in way of succor offered to the millions of our race who are dying on the way-side for want of bread l True, it was but a mouth- ful; but the spirit of its reception by the hereditary oppressor may give a. clew to the causes that have led up to this awful State of affairs. “ The fact is, it will require at least two billion rubles {a billion dollars] to provide the food, clothing, seed, and cattle that shall be necessary to tide over this disaster, and t is needed at once. Count Tolstoi, with the help of his wife, two sons, and two daughters, is feeding over a thousand families. In Moscow he has start. ed a relief fund, while at many other points he'has opened sou kitchens, to which the furnishing people ock in thousands, bless- ing the pliilanthropist’s honored name. His address is 15 Dolgokhamonicheski Pereou- lok, Moscow, Russia. All lovers of human- ity who desire to aid in this worthy cause by prompt donations may send their contribu- tions to the above‘address, through bankers in all parts of the world doing business in Russia, and all such may rest assured of its safetransmissxon and intelligent distribu- tion. “If'thc needed relief be not immediate and abundant, we may expect in the spring an epidemic of disease which will menace not only the lives of the Russian survivors, but also the entire population of the Euro- ean and Asiatic continents. It will thus 6 seen that other nations, in this iiier. gency, have a political and practical as well as a moral and Christian duty to perform. “ It has been estimated by expert statis- ticians that’to sustain thelives of these 5,- 000,000 families till next harvest there shall be required 9,000,000,000 pounds of grain ;’ z50,000,000 rubles for the purchase of seed ; f5 4,500,000,000 pounds of meat ; 750,000,000 rubles for the purchase of horses, cows, sheep, hogs, and poultry ; and 50,000,000 rubles for clothes. I am pleased thus to be able to give the outside world a. rough idea of the extent and the probable consequences of this famine.“ Evidences everywhere abound that the terrible situation is the direct and logical result of the despotic system of government, which is maintained by 1,500,000 soldiers, besides an immense army of police and spies. Contributory if not primary causes are involved in the agrarian or land ques- tion, and the outrageous taxation of the peasantry which has been going on for centuries. Let the untrainuielled press of free Amer- ica open its columns to the receipt of such donations of money as the great heart of that blessed people may dispose them to offer and thereby set an example which othernatious may be proud to emulate.â€" [Harper’s “’cekly. A Boy's Composition. A man wich was the sheriff on a jail his prisners kcp’ a gittin out nitcs and steeliu, hens, costhe jail wasent strong enough for to hold em inside. So the man he said, the man did : “ He at a stop to the little game hartys 2” a_n_ he had a other cote of paint put on the Jail. But the artist he had put some salt into the paint, and some cows came along and licked the paint ol 00', and then the prisners got out a other time and steeled more hens. Won the sherifi' he seen what they had done he was so angry hosed: N This ,unt no place for theefs you bet, so you fallen! 11“ 19‘- to either behave your selves 01' lite 0M, 3nd tussle round for yer hash best way you can." -â€"â€"â€"â€"?-â€" =Â¥ HEALTH. ”The Secret of Health. A contemporary writing of the secret of youth says: “ People are apt to attribute haggard looks to mental activity, and to counsel re and tranquillity ua cosmetic. “ To the thoughtful traveler, the falsity of this theory is obvious. It is in the country village, which the mail is the only excite- ment, the days weeks, and one can hear the ‘ cows breathe in the stillness, that the great- est number of sunken cheeks, wrinkled browa, leaden eomplexions, and lifeless expressions are to be seen among the _ women ‘ yet in their thirties. In the seething metropolis, where there is a constant demand upon both mind and body, are to be found scores of womenâ€"mothers or perhaps grandmothersâ€"possessing all the vitality, freshness, and much of the bloom of early youth.”‘ ' . ' In regard to this, a writer thus remarks : “ It is not activity, but drowsinessâ€"tho presence of sleeping or dead thought in the soulâ€"that is ageing. Unvaried scenes, the repetition to-morrow of to-day, to-day of yesterday, this week of the proceeding one, the inevitable clock-er routine of concep- tion, the monotony of existence, the utter weariness of an empty mind,â€"it is this that sap the vernal springs of life and creates de- cay in the face. “ Past grief, old angers, revenges, even past pleasures constantly dwelt upon,-â€"all ead,,decaying, or decayed thought,â€"-make a weather-beaten iiionument.of the face. This is age. “ The women who never grow old are the student women, those ‘who daily drink in new cliyle through memorizing, thoroughly analyzing, and perfectly assimilating sub- jects apart from themselves. Study is de- velopmentâ€"is eternal youth. The student woman who irakes wise use of her acquisi- tioue has no time to corrugate her brow with dread thought of the beauty-destroyer leaping fast behind her. Not considered or invited, Old Age keeps his distance. “ Brain culture, based on noble motive, means sympathy, heart. gentleness, charity, graciousness, enlargement of sense, feeling, power. “ Such absing cannot become a fossil. She has found the elixir of life, the fountain of eternal youth. “There is no doubt that the culture of the mind is helpful in continuing the youth- ful face. It may not be under all circum- stances, but in the majority of cases it will have a. tendency toward freshness, the eu- joyment of life enlarged, and the growth of soul and body together. The culture of the mind does not mean a routine of books or close study, making life know nothing but what is found in books. It means the en- joymcnt of study, the thorough assimilation of whatever comes up in life throughout. the existence. If one were simply‘ to sit down and study books, and not to go out and study nature, and breathe the air with the full on- joyment and satisfaction of having it to breathe, there might be another phase of the case to present. There is the condition of mind which enjoys itself, which is of such existence that it is always wide awake, full of life, and so content that it is always young. This kind of mind can be acquired if one has the misfortune to be without it. Study to become cheerful whatever may surround you, and you will be well on the road to good health. The body takes after the mind, and the mind is influenced by what is put before it. Let this be health- ful, something that will build it up, and the effects on the body will well repay all the trouble.” I'ood Before Sleep. Many persons, though not actually sick, keep below par in strength and general tone, and I am of the opinion that fasting during the long interval between supper and breakfast, and especially the complete emptiness of the stomach during sleep, adds greatly to the amount of emaciation, sleep- lessness, and general weakness we so often meet. . ' Pliysiognomy teaches that in the body there is a perpetual disintegration of tissue, sleeping or waking; it is, therefore logical to believe that the supply of nourishment should be somewhat continuous, especially in those who are below par, if we would counteract their emaciation and lowered degree of vitality, and as bodily exercise is suspended during sleep, with wear and tear correspondingly diminished, while diges- tion, assimilation, and nutritive activity continue as usual, the food furnished during this period adds more than is destroyed, and increased weight and improved general vigor is the result. All beings except man are governed by natural instinct, and every being with a stomach, excoptman, eats before sleep, and even the human infant, guided by the same instinct, sucks frequently day and night, and if its stomach is empty for any pro- longed period, it cries long and loud. Digestion requires no interval of rest, and if the amount of food during the twenty- four hours is, in quantity and quality, not beyond the physiological limit, it makes no hurtful differences to the stomach how few or how short are the intervals between cat- ing, but it does make a vast difference in the weak and emaciated one’s welfare to have a modicum of food in the stomach dur- ing the time of sleep, that instead of being consumed by bodily action, it during the interval improves the lowered system; and I am fully satisfied that were the weakv ly, the emaciated, and the sleepless night- ly take a light lunch or meal of simple, nut- ritious food before going to bed for a re- longed period, nine in ten of them woul be thereby lifted into a better standard of health. In my specialty (nose and threat), 1 en- counter cases that in addition to local and - constitutional treatment, need an increase of nutritious food. and I find that by direct~ inga bowl of bread and milk, or a mug of beer and a few biscuits, or a saucer of. oat- meal and cream before going to bed, for a. few months, a surprising increase in weight strength, and general tone result : on the contrary, persons who are too stout or ple- thoric shouldfollow an opposite course.â€" (Dr. Wm. E. Cathcll, in the Maryland Med. Journal. A ricochet shot from the new magazine rifle ado ted in En land broke a cottage window our miles istant from the firing point. Incitatus, the famous horse of the Roman emperor, Caligula, was actually consecrated as a priest, had a mangerof pure Ivory, and was never given a drink from anything but a gold pail. x . l l l 9