Newspaper Page Text
6
OIVtA KIND WORD.
Do you know a haart that hungers
For a word of love and cheer?
There are many such about us,
It til ay lie that one is bmu
Look around you. If you find it
Hpeak the word that's needed so.
And your own heart may bo strengthened
Ry the help that you bestow.
It may 1»« that wtn« one falters
f >n the brink of sin and wrong.
And a word from you might save him—
Help p> mak* th<» tempted strong.
Look about you, * > my brother.
What a sin is yours and mine
If we see that help i: needed
And we g»vp no friendly sign.
Never think kind words are wasted,
Bread on w aters cast are they,
And it may l>^ we shall find them
Coming hack to us. some day.
Coming back when sorely needed,
fn a time of Mire distress,
Ho. my fri'-ud, let s give them freely;
Gift and giver God will bless.
Khrv h /> rfor'l, in the Housewife.
THE DOCTOR’S TRIAL ,
Mr?- ( Lester had finished the tiny
stockings, and folding her hands, leaned
back in her easy chair and fell to musing,
perhaps over the conversation of the
morning, for, looking up a moment after
into the fare of her brother in-law, who
was turning over the evening paper, she
"Why don t you marry, Harry? I
lane been thinking over your string of
complaints, traceable to your bachelor
condition.’
Hue almost started at the bitter scorn
in her corn pan ion’s look and tone as he
answered her:
* l Marry! Are you mocking me, Julia?
\\ ho would marry me!"
He rose as he spoke, and the move
merit gave emphasis to his words. His
face, divested of its scornful look, was
not handsome, but lovely as a woman's,
< lustcring curls of dark brown hair
fell over a high white forehead, and large
blue eyes, full of intelligence, were
shaded by long, thick lashes, darker
lhan the curling hair. The features
were perfectly chiseled; the straight
m>se, full lips and delicate chin were al
most childlike in their soft outlines; but
glancing from the face to the figure you
understood the cause of the bitter qties
lion he asked.
1 roui the effects of a fall when quite
young, the spine was injured, and the
figure nature had intended to bn slight
and graceful was terribly deformed ; one
knee, too, was injured, and his gait was
slow and halting. \ et, despite bis de¬
formity, I)r. Chester was in full practice
patients as a physician, and beloved by all. His
declared that his soft hand
brought healing in its touch; his brother
physicians spoke highly of his knowledge
and skill, and the children stretched out
their arms to be taken into his, hushing
their cries when his soft, musical voice
met their ears, or his gentle, pitying face
bent over them.
For a moment Mrs. Chester was silent,
then, laving her head on his arm, she
snu * *
“1 did not mean to pain voy, Harry; I
love you very dearly, my brother, and
see you so universally beloved that 1
.poki; only Ml felt.
i.ippy, deal Hairy, and I think you are
..... «,-ns.live. With ouch a heart and
bt? nr .mVtocTll v m'i.n'i' m ' g '"
A Aft sott, melancholy e 0 1 K- look t crept , over the
doctors lace as bis sister spoke; but he
shook his head sadly as she ceased.
“No woman shall have her life cm
Dutered by thc cate of such a poor crip
pie as 1 am, Julia. 1 ran bear my sor
rows alone. One o clock. Where can
J’ lore, 1 ,c ;, said Mr. Chester, entering
t e room. “5 oil should mt have waited
for me, Julia. And he proceeded to
remove his overcoat and furs. “The
cars were detained by the snow storm.”
“Come.let’s to s upper, "said his wife,
aftev the greeting was over. “1 sat up
tn see that you had it. nice and hot.
Come. Harry, you.will join us.”
“Not to-night. Good-night.”
And the doctor went slowly out of the
paroi. At the foot of the stairs his
brother joined him. One could scarcely
imagine a strunger contrast than the
>ii.i ier>>. I aiu. stunted, thin, and do
otmei . balp.i, tall, broad-shouldered,
u«ity nnt strong.
\ ou foiget that I have come home,
a ’’- v
. m u* tfted his brother . s slight form
m us strong arms and carried him up
the stairs It was an old custom, for
. K many st -* 1 ’' s t ie »met or had to mount
in ls I"'" isMona > utics tiled him sadly,
and made this last one at night positively
painful.
llarrv was ." nre If to flu this y ei that
-
• h . f ^ ,7*
tender and” “ mo l h N .
*
door \ ’ b ‘ iwim* 1- 5, » 1 on ms .lands.
^ - 111 hIS ex *
' '*** • ;
“Marry ! How could I ever dream of
ove wRh this crippled form, these
trembling limbs and this poor pale face?
But 1 love her love her with all
bitter agony of despair! And 1 have
even thought she returned it—she, so
took bright, pity full for .f love! life. l’itv! Poor fool I. .tat
It is onlv
pity that makes her voice low and her
JVOS ,Hn, for It is r i,v ,hu. checks
her dancing step aud merry laugh—for
me She pities me. and 1-I lm-e her
wi 1 a ..u \\e.mh of a mans whole
heart, touched for the first time.”
The clock in the distant steeple rung
out clearly in the frosty night the hours
|> two, t iree and four, and still the
doctor sat with his head bowed in his
lianas, communing with his own heart.
Morning’s dawn still found him in thc
chair, but the faint light fell upon his
upturned face, closed eyes and motion¬
less form.
rp, The agony of trial was over, his
re
solve taken, and he slept. He awoke
calm and strong in his resolution to con
quer his love, or. failing in that, to bury
it silently and deeply iu the most secret
recesses of his heart.
The .»□* bright .an that shone on the
p m-, placid face of the .Seeping cripple
looked m at another window upon a
.Mc ca. p eture Mts. Inly Morton was
handing ut her bed-room window look
"v whtchhnd f\ U fallen n ’ dnnn* the night. «°t snow The
tnrpet n * V ar were- * while L '.‘ u ' «. saa tne ( mt snow ' ) !ar outside. r *:' a
md the littie figure was slender and
graceful.
Miss Lily, though a belle and an heir-
7”' he sun on Uu tail ^‘igpird . bright , aud winter’s ... thetirst morning rays of
Love sleep from her eyes, and she sprang
out m >ed.
THE MONROE ADVERTISER, FORSYTH, GA-, TUESDAY, MAY 20, 1890-EIGHT PAGES-
The face that pressed the window-pane f
was fair, with laughing blue eyes,bright
rosy checks and pretty features; and the
tangled masses of brown curls that fell
over the fair, rounded shoulders were 1
luxuriance. rich in color and profuse in their waxy J
Lily had a habit when alone of think¬
ing aloud, or rather, of talking to her¬
self. and as she stood there, she said,
softly:
“IIow white and pure it looks! ]
love the snow. I wonder if mother will
let me go out to-night. She is so care¬
ful of me! It is so funny, too, for her tc
worry so, when I am never sick; I sup¬
pose it's because poor sister Annie died
of consumption. Oh, how cold it is!"
And having arrived at this conclusion,
she turned from the window and pro¬
ceeded to dress herself for breakfast.
She was a coquettish little beauty, this
heroine of mine, and her admirers were
almost without number, for she was not j
only gay, bewitching and beautiful, but
the only living child of a wealthy mer- !
chant. Her conquests in society, far ;
from making her proud or vain, seemed
forgotten the moment she entered hei
own home; and her cheery laugh, gay
i songs and happy face were truly the
, lights of that stately house,
I Her mother was an invalid, suffering
• from a chronic complaint that kept hei
in her room years in and out, so Lily was
the housekeeper, The servants followed
her with their eyes as she flitted to and
fro in the big house, calling her theii
I j pretty little sunbeam,, and many were the
blessings whispered for her.
; It was not in the gav circle where she
reigned as a belle that Dr. Chester learned
to love Lilly Morton; it was in the pretty,
cheerful room where her gentle, suffering
, mother claimed his professional care,
I Day after day he found her there, mak
; ing her mother's life bright in defiance ol
pain, by loving, tender care and joyous,
happy conversation. An hour would of
ten fly by unheeded by the doctor, as he
sat beside the invalid’s couch and listened
to the sweet voice that made such music
to his heart. He did not know, but he
guessed, whose gentle pity placed the
easy chair ready for his poor crippled
form, and the inmost core on his heart 1
thrilled to the low voice that greeted
him, and the touch of the soft hand that
led him to his seat,
It was the morning of the bright win
tor’s day after the night of the struggle,
and Lily sat beside her mother, waiting
f or the doctor’s visit. Her bright blue
i morning robe suited well her glowing I
beauty, and the little hands rivaled in
j whiteness the soft wool they were knit
| ting into pretty shapes. The doctor's
chair stood ready for him; but the long
morning passed, and he did not come.
Late in the afternoon he called stay¬
ing only long enough to attend to his
patient, and then, for the fir3t time, de¬
clined his seat, bowed and left the house.
Weeks passed, and still these hurried
visits were all that he paid; but the task
told fearfully upon him. The pale cheek
grew paler, and the bent form drooped
more and more, Finally the day passed
and he did not come, but news came
that I)r. Chester was ill and not able tc
leave his bed.
Mrs. Morton lay on her couch, think
ing of “poor Harry,” as she always
called him, when Lily stole softly to hei
side.
.. M „ttal" and the oace bmghinj
voice was now so low aud full of sadness,
noticed that her cheek
unmually P» !c —“J a “ go ‘“ g *° se<
Cheater. I-l wanf to inquire ii j
the doctor is very ill.
j She stopped, for her voice was choked
aud her eves were full of tears. what'
“Why,”Lily! Lily, my child,
a ils vou?”
“Oh, mother, mother!” sobbed Lily,
j ««j was always afraid he would die, he
is so good, so learned, so different from
other men. He has grown so pallid
| lately, and his face is so sad! Oh,
mother, what shall I do if he dies?”
Mrs. Morton was utterly amazed. She
saw how deep her daughter’s love was
j ! f heart or this young cripple, and her mother- ! !
was troubled, for thc doctor was
poor in worldly goods, besides being a
cripple, and then he had given no token I
I ot love; 8po ken no word to her or thc !
little sobbing beauty beside her, indica
j I tive of preference for her above other
women. But, like a wise women, she
i concluded to treat the passion tenderly,
and trust to time for its cure. I
“You may go, certainly, Lily,” she
said. “Give my love to Mrs. Chester, j
and ask if there is anything I can do for
them.”
Again the bright sunlight streamed
into the chamber of the young physician,
The cheek that lay upoa the snowy pil
i lows of the bed mocked their whiteness,
j and the thin hands seemed almost trails
parent in the bright light. The doctor's
{ ’.'cs were closed, but he did not sleep.
Light stops crossed the room, and he
he;,rd his ^ ter ’. s voict \
“Come in, Lily; lie is asleep.
Lily! His heart gave a sudden throb,
but he lay still; then thc sweet voice he j
loved fell on his ear. I
“Star here a minute, Lily,” said Mrs.
Chester, “till 1 send Sarah for some'
; medicine I shall want to-night.” 1
They were alone together. The voice
he loved die grew murmured trembling in its own emo- j I
I tio*i -
"O Owl: «iMtc his life! IIow cao I
i live if he dies’” “
-Li'v "
j j she .*j did here no. " start-only bco, over him.
atn
“Lily, darling! My Lily! Oh,
I.ilv! can vou love me—me, stunted.
cripple_”
j “Hush! “Can You be must not talk so.”
; you my wife, Lily?"
j “Your wife? I am not worthy. You
are so good-so far above me. Your
! wife! Oh. Harry! only live, and I will :
prove to you how deeply I love you.”
There was no! a loud word—only low, I
almost whispered tones, but she bent over
him nearer, and kissed his broad, white
forehead, aud the crippled phvsician i
knew that for his heart and mind she
loved him. and he had found his wife
_ New York News.
Indians Keeping Bachelors’ Hall.
Th „ p 0 „, and Orwnian sars:
„ r^a'.ilb trv „hie-bodied Indian n-Jman of th
irihe has left her wigwam ,5„, wh“h and
gone on a hunt for sheep
th „ remove r „.„ dead sheep, brin
an ,| Th( . brave3 cookingAei, mcomprffed
to to „„ their dignity by
own meals, and mourn the loss of their ““
bett „
Of the Same Mind. , j j
Mrs. Dryson (just returned from
church)—“What a weightv discourse that
was of the minister’s this morning.”
Mr Dryson—“Yes, my dear, it struck
. rue »s being rather heavy.”
BUDGET OF FUN.
flTMOROTS SKETCHES FROM
VARIOUS SOURCES. j
A Tiff— A Point ot Superiority—Fem¬
inine Amenities—Foresight—
Earning , His Fee—A
Theory, Etc., Etc.
•
They had a quarrel and she sent
His letters back next day;
Kis ring and all his presents went
To him without delay.
“Pray, He send my kisses back to me"
wrote; “could you forget them?”
She answered speedily that he
Must come himself and get them
— Judge.
FEMININE AMENITIES.
Mrs. Bjones—“How wonderfully Mrs.
Robbins carries her age?”
Mrs. Bsraith (sweetly)—“Yes, consid
?rkg how much there is of it .”—Detroit
Free Press.
HIS RICHES MAY TAKE WINGS.
Mrs. Snaggs—“The King of Siam has
something laid up for a rainy day.”
Snaggs—“What is it?”
“An umbrella worth $2000.”— Pitts -
burg Chronicle-Telegraph.
A THEORY.
“What is it, do you suppose, that
keeps the moon in place and prevents it
from falling?” asked Araminta.
“I think it must be the beams,” said
Charley, softly .—New York Sun.
WAS CARRIED BY TORNADOES.
Hostess—“So you lived for some time
in Breezy City, Kansas. Did you do
much traveling through that State?”
Guest—“Oh, yes, whenever the winds
were high .”—New York Weekly.
EARNING HIS FEE.
Cora—“Ob, doctor, mamma scolded
me for holding pins in my mouth. Is it
really dangerous?”
Sawbones—“No, my dear. It’s only
dangerous if you swallow them.”.—
Epoch.
FEATHER-WEIGHT THOUGHTS.
Dealer—“Now, here's a showcase that
will magnify the goods you put into it.”
Customer—“Great Scott! Then I
don’t want it. I’m a shoe dealer, and I
want a case for displaying -women's
shoes.”— Chatter.
A POINT OF SUPERIORITY.
.Iis. Miss Manhattan Manhattan _“Rut But rertniniv ccitainlj you
must adm.t that New Yorkers aie the
best dressed people in the world.”
Miss Lakely—“Well, anyhow, it is
acknowledged that Chicago produces the
best dressed beef.”— Puck.
COMMENDABLE GOODS.
Merchant—“Sir, I want you to under
stand that my goods sell jhemsclves.”
Mark Downes—“Indeed? And I sup
pose you have all these clerks hanging
round here just to keep you from feeling
lonely .”—Dry Goods Chronicle.
A special delivery.
thl ,, T
’
.“he “How fMefthTt did vou come Zroti to do it“ that’”
Amt m i to
tako alna g b with him when he to
thc Acadcm , J aa(] sent mc atter it .„
he was sure of it.
Lady Customer (angrily)—“I believe
there is water in you milk, sir.”
Honest Milkman—“Yes, madam,there
is. I have oh several occasions urged the
cows to be more careful, but they insist
that it is impossible to make milk with¬
out water.”— Puck.
is ™hnation.4l journalism.
Hip . Lung (of Chinese newspaper at
Pckingj—“Here’sareportofamostaw
ful 8torm iu the United States. Hun
Gred were killed.
Fin Wlu S (managing editor)—“Give
lt fivc hnes on an iuside P»ge; that’s the
wa v the y trcat our disasters.”
-
mother knows.
Mrs. Fangle—“Lizzie, what time was
it when that voting man left last night?”
Lizzie—“About eleven, mamma.”
Mrs. Fangle—“Now. Lizzie, it was
two hours later than that, for I distinctly
heard him say, as you both went to the
door: ‘Just one, Lizzie.’ You can’t fool
your mother .”—New York Sun.
FORESIGHT.
She—“Oh, horrors!”
He—“What is it, darling?”
She—“I forgot all about poor pussv,
left in the house alone, and we off for a
week. She'll starve."
He—“Oh, I remembered her. I left
a can of condensed milk on the kitchen
table with a sardine opener beside it.”—
Life. '
_
s!if i.fd him up to rr '
Tr]m fi7 . 4l „ , , y °“ anythmg ...
f V’ '
Housewife—“We ve a little something ,, .
1 afraid it's a, hoav;
aS Jeacl -
Tr;lm P (smiling)—“I think I can
Housewife Hitched to the gun.
Awi ‘*
here’s chivalry !
ms Mot&cr—line, , iivvir wtr mine,
you are
10 sa -7. - TOU F Flyers
.iie 'Ttawnng^ mt.) bed)—“No, 1
am v x. mamma, but 1 ve got an engage
men. to ognt witn Boo .mapletord to
L.-..OW. i e oesn t now ow o pray,
and i m not going to take any un.air ad
ot mm ’ t)etcber 1Ue - — - tiicago
quits!
She kissed him as he gave her the
rin?
“George, darting, I have always
longed for one of this pattern, and you
are the first who loved me sufficiently to
study my tastes in this matter.”
“And yet, replied he, leveling
things up. “it is no rarity, as in my e *
gagements I ha fw never used anything
e^se. Philadelphia limes.
appropriate music.
Marguerite (seated beside her affianced
on sofa, to her sister in adjoining room)
—* * What is that yon lie just been play
ing, Dora?
Dora (aged fifteen).—“Oh, you and
Clarence ought to know!
Clarence (bravely, but rashly)—
“ -Whisperings of Love,’.isn't it?”
Dora (crusbingly)—“No—‘The Luna¬
tic's Waltz. ? it
CORDIAL BUT ILLOGICAL,
Jones was quite struck by the appear¬
ance of a guest at an evening party
whose name he did not know, but whose
face was familiar.
“Beg pardon,” he said, going up to
him. “I think we have met before.”
“That is my impression.”
“It wasn't at New Orleans, was it?’’
“No. I’ve never been there.”
“Nor I either,” replied Jones in a
burst of illogical enthusiasm.— Judge.
ROMANCE AND BEALITT.
Romantic Miss—“Do you love me well
enough to do battle for me?”
Ardent Suitor—“Ay, against a thou
sand.”
“Well, Mr. Bigfish is paying me a
good deal of attention. Would you fight
him for me?”
“Yes, I would.”
“Could you defeat him?”
“N-o, he'd probably thrash the life
out of me.' 5
“Mercy! Well, never mind. I’ll take
you without any fighting; and, oh, do
please, remember, my darling, promise
me on your honor, that if you ever see
Mr. Bigfish coming, you’ll run .”—New
York Weekly.
SHE SAVED niS LIFE.
“Alonzo, darling, once at the seashore
you saved my life!”
“Do not speak of it. I-”
“I think I said whether as a friend, a
sister or in still dearer relation I would
remember and recompense you.”
“You did, dear, you did; but
what-”
“One moment. Until the present I
refused your entreaties to bake. To-day
I acceded to them. But remember my
vow. Before 1 put my work on the table
I gave one of the cakes to Fido. Come
out and see him.”
He did so, and they buried the dog
and the cook book in the same grave.—
Philadelphia Times.
WHERE THE LEAK WAS.
Mr. Billus (looking over his expense
account)—-“Maria, we spent exactly $50
more than our income this year. We’ve
got to retrench.”
Mrs. Billus—“It wasn’t my fault,
John. I didn’t lose $75 on the election,
P a - ou ^. ^ ues » uor spend
Lon v in • hiec days n0V at TUQ the t races, b rou gb nor with in
.v
t orse a note for $200 for a mere ac
quaintanoe and lose it, nor——”
^ looking through the
expense account)—“None of these things
jit account for that $50. Bv Jove! Here
is! ‘Subscription for pastor’s salary,
f $50?’ Maria, we can’t stand that! The
preacher will have to get along without .
anything fiom me this year.” Chicago
1 rwune.
The Inanimate Ruler of the House.
While fetichism is not practiced in
the House of Representatives, the only
! thing which commands absolute respect
and obedience is a decorated log of
■wood. The mace is mightier than the
gavel. The gavel appeals for order; the
mace enforces it. The gavel, unsup¬
ported by the mace, a feeble thing—a
mere mallet, which inelecual may have its head
hammered off in rage without
commanding, resjjggwif the carved aud
eagle-crowned stick of ebony stands not
on end at the Speaker’s right hand. The
symbol of authority stands on its . pedestal
with solemn dignity during the sessions,
ana when theie is an adjournment or
the House goes into the Committee of the
! Whole, the Sergeant-at-Arms carries the
| mace carefully out. At the opening of
the session in the morning it is brought
m an placed on its pedestal. Its
presence lends dignity to the assemblage
and preserves order and decorum. No
member would be guilty of disrespectful
demeanor toward it, however much he
might feel at liberty to abuse the Speaker
or any other meie man. He might insult
he Speaker or other officer of the House
: with impunity, but any wilful disrespect
shown toward the mace would at once
endanger his seat in the House. When
Congress was first created the necessity
of having something that all men would
hold in awe and re»eience \\a3 recog
nized, and this effigy of autnority was
made of ebon\, bound with silver and
surrounded by a globe and eagle with
spread wings, and it was. baptized with
authority and made a silent, inanimate
rulei of the House.
The Sergeant-at-Arms is . a sort of a
priest in attendance upon this fetich. He
guards it with care when it is not per
forming its iunctions, he polisnes the
silver bands that bind it and the silver
eagle and globe that surmount it, and he
carries it around on the floor of the
House when its august presence is neces
sary to enforce order. He carries it be
^ ore with both hands, and no mem
ber has the hardihood to stand up be
fore i{ to be guilty of indecorous con
duct when it commands order. Brought
in the midst of excited members who arc
casting all thought of rules to thc wind,
it is like the sound of the Angelus.
Members bow their heads before it and
drop back into their seats .—Few York
Commercial Advertiser.
Reminded the Judge of His Duty.
Judge Peters tells the following story,
and always laughs as he tells it: Sheriff
Brown had been elected in Penobscot
County and had made his son the page !
or messenger in court. Judge Peters
presided at the first term, and in the
middle of the forenoon announced a re
cess of fifteen minutes. He retired to the ;
library and soon became immersed in >
sorne j e ^ a , bc)oks _ i ook j n g up sorne points
o{ law When the time mentioned had
eX p| re d the jury came in. but the judge
d?d not The Brown boy, who was anx- :
ious tQ have e v er y t bing go off iu good
shape under his father’s administration,
grew nervous, and at last made a bolt for
the library. Walking in and pulling out
his watch, he tapped the judge upon the
shoulder and said: “Come, Mr. Peters, 1
you've got to hurry. Your time is up
an( i t 'ne folks are a-waitinsr ~ .’'—Lewiston j
Journal.
'
------—-
A Peenliar Phenomenon.
A peculiar phenomenon occurred at
Racine. Wis., a few days ago. The
water in the river, which was at its
usual height, suddenly commenced to
and in less than ten minutes the
current was running out at a ten-mile
rate, and the water went down four feet
four inches. In the lake the water also
receded, leaving the bottom dry for
seventy-five feet to the first lighthouse.
The water remained stationary for a few
minutes and then rushed back and rose
one foot above the ordinary level.
QUININE.
THE ROMANTIC STORY OF AVAL
CABLE MEDICINE.
The Bark Cured Countess Chinchon
of a Fever in Peru, and Sho
Brougnt It to the Attention
of Europeau Phy sicians.
All . „, know the ., virtues . . of . quinine, . . and ,
many nave good cause to think of it
gra efu.iy Toe medical practitioners
ol temperate climates have found in the
various preparations from the cincuona
the valuable remedies tor many severe
and trying diseases; but in the tropics
they are simply indispensable in the treat
ment of malarial fever and other affec
tious common there. Quinine is also a
necessity in the swamps of the South, the
new plains of the great middle and low
lands of the California valleys. There
are many places in California where the
people, to use their own picturesque ex
pression, “just live off of quinine;” and
its consumption in San Francisco is very
much larger than is generally imagined.
The medicinal properties of the cin
chona bark have doubtless beeu known
for centuries to many of the Indian
tribes of both Americas, but it is only
within the last 150 years that they have
beeu recognized by scientific Amsterdam,
Just 100 years before that, 1639, ac
cording to Clements R. Markham in his
“Memoir of the Countess of Chinchon,”
the wife of a Spanish Viceroy of Peru
returned to Europe from that country,
and having been cured of a fever while
abroad by the use of a tree bark pre
scribed by a native Peruvian, she was
wise enough to bring some of it home
with the intention of distributing it
among the sick on her husband’s estate in
Spain. The form in wffiich it was then
administered was that of the pulverized
bark, aud it was not unlikely called
countess’ powder, a name which was re¬
tained long after the alkaloid was placed
upon the market. Afterward the species
of the tree was named cinchona, while
the medicine was called quinine, from
the native name of the bark, quina.
It was not known until the trees were
scientifically studied which species of cin¬
chona was the most valuable. Now it is
known that the genus cinchona includes
as many as thirty-six species, but only
about half a dozen of these are found
available for yield for medical purposes.
indeed, the prominent cinchonas of to
da y are but f our number—the crown
bark, or cinchona officinalis, the red
bark, or succirubra; the yellow bark, or
calisaya, and the gray bark, or nitida.
Some bom of the hetrees trees are a re "more more marked marked as as the
yielders of pure quinine; others of all the
alkaloids in a mixed state.
The cinchona tree itself is a beautiful
object, according to the descriptions
given bv Mr. Howard in his elaborate
aud invaluable “Quinology of the East
Indian Plantations.” It has a delicate
small flower in close clusters, and at
certain seasons its fragrance fills the air
for a considerable distance. The lcaf
forms vary considerably in the different
species, from a form approaching to
heart-shaped to a purely iance-hcaded
figure. In their native habitat the cin
chona trees all grow at a height of from
2500 to 9000 feet above the level of the
sea, and in an equable but comparatively
cool climate, with the thermometer
ranging from about forty-two to a little
under seventy degrees.
Fhe cascarilleros or bark collectors of
South America spend their whole lives
in the woods, and have been known
lose themselves never to be heard of again.
The trees grow on the sides of the
mountains or in ravines between the
mountains. The scenery is described by
travelers in that region as magnificent
but terrible. The deep indigo of the
sky, with the icy peaks of the Andes
clearly denned against it, fill the higher
portion of the picture, while below are
narrow gorges down which rush
glittering cataracts and across which
are hung slender bridges made
of rope and twisted branches of
trees. These bark hunters thought
only of present gain and cared
nothing for the future. They
therefore stripped the trees standing,
and the consequence was that as soon as
they -were deprived of their bark they
were attacked by myriads of insects,
whicn soon killed them. No measures
were ever taken either by the owners of
public or private forests to secure sup
plies by any conservancy or replanting.
When the cascarilleros came upon a tree
which had accidentally been thrown
down, so great was their carelessness that
they would actually strip the upper side
of its bark wituout taking thc trouble to
turn over the trunk. Under this
method it was inevitable that the
area of supply would, in course of
time, soon become Seriously nar
rowed. This was the fear that set the
scientific men of the waolc world to look
for more economical methods of barking,
At first the method employed in India
for barking ^ was to cut do wn the tree
very near the ground, when a rapid
growth of young wood immediately
sprang up. and in the course o; live or
six years the saplings were ready to he
felled again. A still better method was
the “mossing process” which is now in
use. About a year or eighteen- months
before the bark is ready for removal, the
trunk of tne tree is covered with a
thick layer of common tree moss, being
fixed in position with t wisted bark
till it becomes attached by natural
adhesion to the tree. W hen the
eighteen months have expired the
moss is removed and the bark
cut off in longitudinal strips about
two inches wide, and from a
point as high up as can be conveniently
reached. Between every two of these
strips a strip of bark is left to carry on
the circulation. Then the moss is again
applied to the trunk and kept moist, by
which means the decorticated intervals
are kept uninjured. At the end ot six
months or more the bands of bark left
untouched at the first stripping are re
moved and the spaces mossed. At the
end of twenty months, on an average, the
spaces occupied by the ribbons first taken
off are found to be covered with renewed
^rk much thicker than the natural bark
of the same age, and this renewed bark
can be removed and a fre-sh renewal again
De fostered by the moss.
On being taken from the trees the
Dark is laid to dry in rough sheds fitted
°P e ^ shelves. 'Wien it has been
Fried as far as is possible; without art:
h -'-a. heat, it is carried off to the drying
house, heated with charcoal fires, whence
D c ^ n Do stored avithou* danger of
deterioration.
the medic-mai virtues ul the bark de
l* 3 '-' 1 on presence of one or more of
alkaloids—quinine, quinivduie,
cinchonine and cinchonidine. All M
these have been subjected to rigorous
trial and found nearly equal as
regard 6 Hieir value in the treatment
Of malarial fever and allied
diseases. Trees prior to their
sixth or seventh year contain but a small
proportion of the alkaloids, and up to
the eighth or ninth year these active prin¬
ciples continue to increase in quantity
and improve in quality. All four alka¬
loids are commercially and medicinally
valuable, but that which is most so is
’ alkaloid crvstalliza
l • j This forms
with several acids, aud when
treated with the right proportion of sul
i_ acid forms the suphate of quinine
thosc finei whit e, silkv crvstals with
the 5itter taste , which is'so well known
to fever strickn pRt ients and those in need
Tonic .__^;i Francisco Chronicle.
A Novel Steel Fire Boat.
The new steel tire boat New Yorker.
of New York city, built by the Jonson
Foundry aud Machine Company for the
Fire Department, has been launched. It!
length is 125 feet five inches, breadth of
beam twenty-six feet, and the displace-
1 ment 350 tons, or fifty-two tons per iuch
I to load water line.
j One of the advantages of this new ves
sol is to be its power to fight fire along
the water front. Many of the ware
houses arc lofty, with thick walls and
windows protected by iron shutters,
which cannot be reached and opened by
the ordinary fire appliances. Firemen,
j therefore, have often been compelled to
wait until the flames burst through the
roof before anything successful could be
done toward extinguishing the fire. Even
the powerful fireboats already con
structed have not been all that could be
desired in this respect.
The New Yorker is, however, expected
to be far more powerful than anything
that has yet been seen in these waters.
Capable of throwing fifty tons of water
in a minute, it will swamp any ordinary
water front fire in a short time. But the
great advantage will be in the throwing
of a bolt of water five inches in diameter
with such force against iron shutters as
to perforate them like tissue paper. This
stream will also be strong enough to
force a hole through a thick wall, and
thus enable the fifty tons of water to be
poured into the burning building every
miuute.
To prevent the steel boat from getting
too hot during a large fire, a contrivance
is arranged for wetting down the vessel
with a spray that will keep it always
cool, even in front of the hottest con¬
flagration. Her maneuvering ability is
j a l so considered excellent.
All the more important machinery of
the boat is in duplicate. If anything
gives way it will not mean disability.
Through a slip cable all the signals and
alarms will be received as at an engine
house on shore, The pumps have been
built to throw fifty tons of water a
minute, and the streams will go higher
than the highest elevator or warehouse
on the river front. From the water
front, with hose provided, a dozen
powerful streams could be thrown upon
a building as far inland as the City Hal!,
and with the Holly system utilized whole
districts could be supplied with water for
shore engines in case of need. There
seems, in fact, to be scarcely a limit to
the capacity of this craft, which will be
known as the New Yorker. The firemen
on board will be protected by adjustable
steel shields when in close proximity to
. a fi r e, and jf the heat is still too great an
j apparatus is provided that will cool
! everything and everybody off with a fine
°
j as a lawn is sprinkled auto
matically “ 3 ‘
Climbing Tall Chimneys.
A brief reference to the plan adopted
in the earlier days of tall chimneys for
gaining access to their tops is of interest,
A kite was flown, by a trained and skil
f u l hand, over the top of the chimney
until its striug extended obliquely
: the orifice of the shaft. The kite
across
was then pulled down to the ground by a
second string attached to the one which
was used in managing and controling its
flight looped” leaving in this top.’ way the
string over the The
kite being then removed, a stout
c ord was attached in its place and
drawn over the top of the chimney until
the cord had taken the place of the
string, rising from the ground, crossin"
over the mouth of thc chimnev and de
scending to the ground at the other side,
This process was then repeated, stronger
a nd stronger corda"c being used each
time, and finally a strong iron chain,
until a length of tackle was raised and
fixed, from which an adventurous work
man, generally known as a steeple-jack,
could be pulled up to complete t-ho ad
juMments and attachments of more relia
ble machinery above,
A new device, brought out in Eng
land about five years ago, to facilitate the
sa fe climbing of tall chimneys, consisted
of two strong timber grippers capable of
being secured to the chimney to be
climbed, by means of two long bolts , one
on each C 8 side of the chimnev ° To these
grippers were suspended, by means of
four chains, two other grippeis precisely
similar, capable also of being clamped to
the chimney. To these lower grippers
the stage holding the workmen was
attached. Both sets of grippers
were also connected by means
of two steel screws, two inches in
diametCV. The climbing operation was
as follows: Supposing the upper grippers
to lie clamped fast and the lower ones to
be loose, then the weigh of the stage is
susiained by the chains. The two screws
a re now operated and the stage is thus
gradually raised. When the desired
height is"reached the lower grippers are
secured by tightening up the bolts; in
this way the weight is taken off the upper
grippers, and these can now be raised to
a greater height by simplv working the
screws the reverse wa~. When the chains
are again tight the upper grippers are
secured as before, the lower ones are re¬
leased, and the operation of lifting is
continued .—Building Becord.
For Getting Rid of Mosquitoes.
Robert H. Lamborn has placed in the
hands of the Nmuraf marao-ers of the American
ihe x[ US eum o ustorv 'be Yew York
sum of $200, to paid $20, in three
arizes of 8150. $30, and for the
three best essavs on the destruction of
mosquitoes and flies by other insects. It
is tive,"voracious, suggested that the dragon fly is an ac
and harmless “mosquito
hawk,” and that it might, if artificially
multiplied, diminish the numbers of the
smaller insects. A nractical plan is called
for in t h e breeding of the dragon fly or
other such destroyer in large numbers,
and its use in the larva, pupa, or perfect
s tate, for the destruction of mosquitoes
and d j e3 j n houses, cities, and neighbor
hoods.—(Scientific American /
.
A. COUNTRY IDYL.
'Have you dug your grass?” asked the city
chap mAh.
Of the staring farmer
For he thought he would not crush tin
swain
Beneath his social ban
“How was your crop when you dug you?
grass?
Did the weevils hurt your peas?
Aud did the canker worm destroy
Your young cucumber trees?
"I love, good sir, thecouutry air.
From the town I fain would flee
And lose myself in rural dreams
'Neath the potato tree,
t would pluck the turnip from its vine,
Through the parsnip meadow push,
And rest beneath the grateful shade
Of the bending cabbage bush .
“Oh, 1 fain would be a simple swain
And drive my yoke of cows, •
Aud rest at noon beneath the shade
Of the rutabaga boughs.
Oh, I'd hunt the woods for the cocoanut
btlsh
The whole of the livelong day,
Or start at morn with the rustic lioe
To dig the hills for hay.
“And if at noonday I grew faint.
With my labor’s strain and rush,
l would mix the milkweed’s luscious milk
With mushroom’s luscious mush.
t would pluck the pineapple from the pine—
But why has your color fled?"
But the farmer fell with a sickening thud—
The farmer man was dead!
— Tc.vas Siftings.
rum AND POINT.
Handled without gloves—Soap.
A dead poet—The poet, laurie ate.
A financial crash—The bank towel.
A man of letters—Mr. Mieczysobjiol
wisnivwiecki.
There is no tongue tide in a tongue
tied woman .—•Yonkers Gazette.
“Gas is going up,” as the aeronaut
said when he cut the balloon rope.
“Thrice is he armed who hath his quarrel
just,” times who fust.’
And four he gets his blow in
— Atlanta, Constitution.
A horse 1ms the advantage over man in
one thing, he’s worth more after lie’s
broke than he was before .—Berkshin
News.
“Remember to sweep the parlor very
clcan to-day, Mary. A gentleman is
C0In j ng this evening who will kneel to
me. —Boston Budget.
Chairmen of conventions have often
found, to their sorrow, that the liar lest
of all gates to shut up arc delegates.—
Burlington Free Press.
When a young man embraces all his
opportunities he is quite apt upon oc¬
casions to get an armful of something
nice .—Binghanton Leader.
“This House For Sail!” the placard read,
And ’ere there was a bid,
A Kansas cyclone struck the plaeo—
And, sure enough, it Whiteside did.
— Herald.
“Wake up, Chappie. Which of these
houses is yours?” Chappie (a little the
worse for wear)—“Zhe one thet—hie—
fitsh me night-key—hie—of coursh,
ffitupid.”— Epoch.
“.Sue was stupid to-night,” said Fred,
“She yawned, as I could see.”
“I’m more to blame than she,” Joe said;
“Shesatup last night with me.”
— Epoch.
Mrs. Brown—“What made you call
pour grandmother down all those steps?”
Little Johnnie—“Because since she’s the
rheumatism she looks so funny coining
down stairs.”— Epoch.
A dude is a fellow who would
Be a young girl if he could;
But as he can’t, does all he can
To show the world he's not a man,
— Chatter.
Bobby—“What animal is that, pa?”
Pa—“That is an old hyena, Bobby.”
Bobby—“Why, pa, that doesn’t look a
bit like you. Ma doesn't know what she
talks about half the time, docs she?”—>
Judge.
Although my heart’s been oft a whirl,
It happened thus, you see:
I always chanced to love the girl
v Who didn’t care for me.
-Life.
“Sold out your grocery business al¬
ready? What for?” “Couldn’t make
any money out of it.” “You should
have stuck to it longer. YV>u hadn’t
perseverance enough.” (Wearily) “No,
T suppose I lacked sand. — Chicago Tri¬
hunt.
‘‘Beware! there may be rocks ahead,”
I said, but he with merry laughter
Replied: *‘I hope so', for when 1 wed,
The ‘rocks’ are what I’m after!”
—Pittsburg Bulletin.
“Oh, my poor little lamb.” said a ten¬
der hearted lady at the butcher’s, “I
hate to order the meat and think I’m
helping to destroy the little creatures.’
“1 can send ’em around alive, ma’am, if
yo'u say so,” said the butcher.— Chatter.
Daughter—“Papa, George has asked
me to marry him and I have said ‘Yes. > i
Papa—“And I would have said ‘No. i a
Daughter (respectfully)—“That's what
you should have said, papa, if a young
man asked you to marry him.”— Wash¬
ington Star.
A book agent says: ‘We can elevate
our business and make it a grand success
if our friend and brother will but lend a
helping hand and bestow upon us a kind
word.” As it is now, the book agent is
too often elevated by his “friend and
brother bestowing upon him a helping
foot. ’—-Norristown Herald.
A gentleman went to keep a written
appointment in Wall street with a broker
whom he did not know by sight. See¬
ing a forlorn-looking gentleman seated in
the office, he said: “I beg pardon, sir,
are you the broker?” To which the
other promptly replied: “No, sir, I’m
the fellow that got broke !”—Texas Sift¬
ings.
Weak Hearts Not Common After All
Weak hearts are by no means so com
men as is often supposed, Many a man
who thinks he has got one is merely dys¬
peptic ; many a woman owes her symptoms
to tight lacing or insufficient feeding.
If the dyspepsia be cured and the tight
lacing dispensed with the symptoms ol
heart weariness will disappear. Even
when the heart is genuinely “weak” the
weakness is not always due to special dis¬
ease of that organ. It may be only part
of a general weakness of the whole sys¬
tem. which is easily curable.— American
Analyst.
Had Work to l)o.
Young Brown (who has just left home
for the first time)—“I would like to be
eailed at three o'clock to-morrow morn
ng.”
Hote! Clerk—“What, do you wish to
catch an early train, sir?”
Young Brown—“No, I have a button
to sew on my trousers,”