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 " â- â-  â- .r.T#s^^5^^w ^•v:^s •'iLW^' ':mBmm m t?*. " oi ^bu,g|,^»^Shi^ I^«U8ia ready the bnrf.,* I fc possible exS "*» Je working cla«L**^«*i«l I after yeara^TJJ. Which i I I Roman corrp«^ »k I Nhststhatthrs '2* ^yand arbiter krft""»M h employed, aidlSn^ ft their respectiver "P"" I o improve ^eJli "«"â-  pg classes. '"" ooodi. to-day that tli« n l I keen's son, iLnffi.^'^e of Occasioned by *£""?/"'« hr. Iftrue fi^*""'*ir hinherSdS^"°?^"*«- [herto blood poUSr "• fness will have tih!°7"M k-'plSe-SsI B£T rOBTS. a Fallare Againg« ihe u,. Explosives. ** fThi* P-'Wished some tim, ^t rl"' T^"S St. Lhamond, Chatillon, it was explained that the -ew explosives had inducS ieerstocon8tr„ctfort.oom. rmous block of concrete, space was obtained nece.1 small garrison, stores, and turrets, armed with cm mply rotatory like those of netimes rotatory, descend- ^^."l^.tiiose of Chatillon Ihe firing with the turret. It results. :tion of the experiment., and interesting, hta jnst Q the presence of M. de luestion was whether the r great success in firing on ' ihemselves stand fire. Had 2 France, by means of a lid have supplied the gap d stopped the in .ader long 3 behind the protection of the experiment does not satisfactory. The turrets the first shot, and became for the fragments of steel 'iolence of a cannon ball true, was at 140 metres siege the distance would etres. There is, however, lat the accuracy and force rould be lessened by dis- result is very significant, of an effective armament ^t is said be correct, ia ioncrete, indeed, has re- Q illusory resistance, for 8 without arms is really obstacle to an enemy's tapers to-day ar?ne that be coated with concrete, 'dous inference. If the B guns are speedly silenc- lle, whether of concrete must be found of arming ive purposes then only substitute for a strom? le march of the enemy, bo have cannon withont ;bout cannon, and after Chalons it is apparent 11 continue between the ;ruct and the artilleiy- owever, which was not 18 resulted clearly from â€"namely, that an iron hickness, does notoftr to the new explosives, lips are already practi- •e condemned withont lance of showing what V many milliards haw What labor has be« it one (xperimentbeiBg turned to accoont Him Off. A patient)-Whaty" Yon should waU for his pocket) -How [walked alHastagh* rtant UemaA. I the fftmUy)-Soy«» Bishop, Bobhy, »*• well enough, h«t « after ma-a-ffJS [â- Ucverbef**" p. *h« Spring wai COB*, ng trees rg and bees, ^^ G. A. ^Jf^J^ nr from •^"â- Â»Sl* » TiBHw|«*g»^5 esriy *^^^^|^ the '"â- â-  ' LIKE AND UN LIKE. By M. B. BRADDON, AciHoB OK " Ladt Audlbt'8 Sxcbbt," " Wyixabd's Wkibd^" Era, Era CB AFTER XX.â€" Dkiftino. V Adrian Belfield had been a trayeller '^the fao« " ^^^ "^^ *°' °®*'^y *W^o '" oef are he turned his face homewards. â- ^ d seen most ot the fairest spots in the *j *orld He bad spent half a year in 'zZn and b*d seen Algiers and Tangiers, fflitit and the Holy Land, and bad devoted ^t pare 01 a year to a leisurely saunter 't^h Spain and Italy, Uking his own and living the life of the coantry. 01 it a iictle now and~ then, so far as delist* health would allow, and seeing ch more of people and of places than it is ^° to the average traveller to see. He ^d zone abroad to cure himself of a wound '^ioa he had at first thought almost incnr- *^ and he did not turn his face home- *\d till he ftlt that he was heart-whole 'cee mure, aod could meet his brother's ^iie without oae ping ot regret, one thrill of paaaionate feeling. Yes, he was cared. A love which has its oriiJin in the tancy or the senses is not diffi- JaU to eradicate. A love that has no more sjliii foundation than a beautiful face does not take a very strong hold of an intellectn- ,; haracier. Adriiin was too clever a man jot to discover, when the glamour of that j;3t love had faded a little, that the wo- ain he i»*d adored was too shallow and lisht minded to be worthy of broken hearts. ;M who could so easily transfer her allegi- ^oe from one brother to the other, who eould break faith at the first temptation, ffia not a woman to die tor. And even that potent charm of beauty began to lose its M,.-er over his memory after a year's ab- sence. Greece showed him women as beaatifal, Italy showed him a more pictur- esque loveliness in the faces of peasant girls â-  by the wayside, while in society he met women who, with a little less than Helen's beauty, possessed the charm of intellectual power and brilliant accomplishments. He learnt his lesson in those years of exile, and thanked God that he was able to learn it. " 1 have been away from you an uncon- scionable time, dearest mother," he wrote, knowing how keenly Lady Belfield had felt his absence J "but the purpose of my ban- ishment is fulfilled. I am going home to yon cured. No hidden feelings of mine will ever make a difficulty between Valentine and me, or put Valentine's wife to the blush. I can be to her henseforward as a brother." This letter relieved Constance Belfield's nind of a heavy burden, the fear of bad blood between those two sons who were her all upon this earth. She loved them both too well to have been happy while there was any shadow of ill-feeling between them. However she might lean to Valentine, she knew that Adrian was in all things the finer character and the better son and the sor- row that had fallen upon him through his brother's rivalry had been a source ot deep- est pain to her. It was not till he had gone from the Ab- bey that she knew how dear that elder son had been to her, or how essential to the happiness of her life. His wayward brother baa occupied more of her thoughts, and had been a constant source of maternal anxiety but Adrian had been the- companion of her days, had sympathued with her in all her' pursuits, entered into all her plans for the good ot others, joined in|her every aspiration and elevating thought. He bad been her second self,, and she only knew it when he Tas gone. The letter announcing his returnjmade her feel ten years younger. It was so delightful to her that he should write in good spirits that he should be fuU of hopefulness about the future. "I should like to see what the world ia doing before I bury myself at the dear old Abbey," he wrote; "so I have engaged roomii at the Alexandra for the second and third weel s in June, with the notion that you would not mind joining me there. We can do the round of operas and theatres and see all the picture galleries in a fortnight, leaving a margin for your dress, maker and tny tailor." Lady Belfield had not been in London since she went up to see her invalid diughter-in law. Valentine and his wife had visited her at the Abbey twice since their marriage, and Valentine had been there for the hunting and shooting several times, without his wife running down to hunt or shoot for a few days, and going back to London at the first nnfivorable change in the weather. He treated the house as if it were bis own, telegraphing to announce his arrival, leaving at half an hour's notice, and standing upon no kind of ceremony. Lady Belfield had been pleased that it should be so. She was glad ^at her son should treat her house as his homd. She came to London a day before Adrian was expected, so that she might be at the hotel to receive him, or meet him at the terminus. She had brought books and Kent bottles, paper-cutters and work- baskets enough to give a home-like aspect even to an hotel sitting room. She had brought a great basket of flowers from the Abbey gardens and hot-houses, and she *ud her maid were at work nearly all the morning after her arrival filling vases, nd building up a bank of bloom in the tire- place. Adrian was not expected till six in the ovenine, when his train was to arrive at Charing Cross. Lady Belfield ordered a carriage and Qrove to Wilkie Mansions about an hour »fter luncheon. Mrs. Belfield was not at home. "I think you will find my mistress over the *ay, my lady," said the maid, when she saw Lady belfield's card and the lady's look of disappointment. " Or I can fetch her if you like." "She is at Mrs. Baddeley's, yon mean?" "Yes, my lady," "Thanks, I'll go there at once." A silvery ripple of laughter greeted Con- stance Belfield's ear as the door was opened by the very smallest individual of the pa^e genusâ€" the smallest and the smartest. His Uvery was in perfect style, his innocent Mxen hair was brushed as carefally as if he bad been in a crack caviJiy raiment The lobby into which tbu infant admitted Lady Belfield was pictoresqae in its arrange- ^t of oriental drapery aud tro^^alpAlnui; but it was Tery smail, uid u3j mvidod f?"' the drawing-room 1^ a cortein, timini^ *hich the vidtoc hmtd â- â€" fflilino ToiOM and langhter before the page coald announce her. On the curtain being lifted she 8%w the sisters lounging gracefallyin low bamboo chairs, dressed almost alike in limp white muslin morning gowns, lace betrimmed, dia- phanous, ethereal. Helen's heavy plaits of auburn hair had fallen down, and were hanging on her shonMers. Her dress had altogether an air of deshabille, which Lady Belneld did not approve in a lady who was receiving masculine visitors. The visitors were two. Lord St. Austell and Mr. Beeching. Helen started ap from her chair and ran to welcome her motherin-law, " Dearest Lady Be field, what a tremen- dous surprise I ' she exclaimed, "You did not say a word about coming to London in your last letter." "I had no intention of coming when I wrote," replied Constance, shaking hands with Mrs, Baddeley and then with the two gentlemen. She told her daughter-in-law of Adrian's return, and of their residence at the Alex- andra. Helen blushed faintly at the men- tion of her jilted lover, and a flood of mem- ories rushed across her mind at the bound ot his name. Oh how long it seemed ago, that old time when she and Adrian were engas;ed, when her heart was light and glad with a childish pleasure in her conquest, and her lover's devotion, and the sunny future that lay before their feet. All was altered now she had loved and suffered her pride had been crushed her spirit broken and then, all at once, like the awakening of Spring, life had seemed to begin again, as if aU the world were newly made. Mrs, Baddeley brought forward her most luxurious chair, and established Lady Bel- field in a shady nook by the oriel window, while Helen stood dreaming, I "You find us in rather a dishevelled con- dition," said Mrs, Baddeley " we were late coming home from our ride this morn- ing. Our horses were very fresh, and we were obliged to give them a little extra work, I think we were the yery last people in the Row, weren't we, St, Austell " She called him St, Austell, tout court a freedom which was very objectionable to Lady Belfield. " I am glad you are riding, Helen," the mother-in-law said, gently. " '^es, it is very nice to ride in the Row when there is no better riding possibla. Valentine was so kind to buy me a horse. " " He only did what was right," said Lady Belfield, wondering why the young wife blushed crimson as she mentioned her hus- band's gift. " He rides with you, I hope " " Oh no his hunters are at grass. He says he hates the Row. Leo and I ride to- gether." " You have a good groom, I hope." " No, we have no groom. The man comes round from the livery stables to mount us, and we generally have an escort of some kind," concluded Mrs. iiaddeley, " We are perfectly safe, I assure yuu, " Lady Belfleld was not to be assured upon this point. " I think my son is wrong in allowing his wife to ride without proper attendance," she said gravely. St, Austell turned the conversation into a pleasanter channel. How long did Lady Belfield contemplate remaining in town, and what was she going to see. He ran over the names of the Theatres â€" he talked of Hurlingham and Ranelagh. The picture galleries, the latest conjuring trick, the newest thought-reader. " I am not very rabid about amusements," said Lady Belfield. " I want to see as much as I can of my daughter." Helen's eyes filled at that word " daugh- ter," spoken with extreme tenderness. " Yon are too good to me," she faltered. " I wish Valentine were in London to help me make much of yon but he has gone over ;o Paris for the Longchamps races. You know how devoted he is to racing. I suppose he will be back in two or three days." " You don't know when he is to be back?" " I never know till within an hour or twto. He is so erratic. He says he never likes to forecast his life, to forfeit the privi- lege of chnging his mind; He comes back from JTewmarket, or York, or Paris, just as tmexpectedly as he comes from his club." " He is the best of fellows, out I really think he was made for a bachelor," said St, Austell airily. " He has such a thorough appreciation of manly liberty. You must have exacted very little from him in his boyhood. Lady Belfield." ** I hope I never exacted anything from either of my sons," answered Constance, gravely. That light tone of St. Austell's jarred upon her. The man's presence in that room, and his easy familiarity with both sisters, gave her an uncomfortable feeling. She found herself wondering wliether he was often there and whether he was chief among the "escort ' of whom Mrs, Baddeley had spoken so confidently, •'Can you go to the opera with me to- morrow evening, Helen " she asked. Helen looked at her sisttr. " I'm afraid not," said Mrs. Baddeley, " we are booked for a dinner in Park Lane, tmd a dance in Grosvenor Gardens." " The next night, then." " There is another dance, â€" two dances," replied Helen " but I can go with you to the Opera before my dances." " No, I will not allow that. You look fragile enough as it is. I won't oanse yon any extra fatigue. But do you really go out every evening " .... " My dear Lady Belfield, just think, it is the very height of the season " said Mrs.- Baddeley, " If we had not a good many en- gagements now we should be indeed very Uttle in request. When I cease to be want- ed at three or four different houses every night in Jane I shall know that I am on the it is a wretchedly exhaosting life for any yonng womsrn," said Lady Bemeld. " It is a wretchedly exhaosting life, bat one most endure it for a numth or six wseks in the year, anleaa one waati to fall oat of the ranks alt^ther. HelenmopadhocziUy till Valffn*â„¢* uid I took her in hand, and ahook her deflpondenoy oat of har and now â- he ia a* hxmif w a bm." t0Aj Belfidd oontemplated bar mbIi wife tbooghtfollv for a lew mumak\m,ta Ae did not think that the exprearion of that loyely faoe was one of peifeot aennitT. There was a troaUed look in tiio laiiie violet eyee, a nerroiu leatleesncaB about the moatli. Mr. Beedunff sat in a low diair, fnaring Mrs. Baddeley^ poodle all this time, an! did notoommitt hlmaelf by apeedh. He had aqaired almoat a repntation aa tlie moat A- lent man in London. The poodle waa an artificial peraonai(e, spoiled oy London hoars and high living, hlaatf cynical. He wore three tafts on his thaven back, and three tafts on his ashling sail, silver collar, and silver bracelets, and would bite his dearest friend. He had been over educated and was aappoaed at theae times to snffer from pressure on the brain. He played tbe piano, walked npstcdrs on his hind legs, shot the door, and insalted Mr. Gladstone in dumb show whenever a piece of sugar waa offered to him coupled with that statesman's name. It may be sapposed, as the performance must have been irksome, that he really detested Mr. Gladstone. No donbt there are Liberal poodles, in London to whom the name of Lord Salisbury is equally odious but the Tory poodle is the more general ornament of a lady's bou- doir. " Come to breakfast with me to-morrow morning, Helen," said Lady Belfield, when she was goine away, after half-tua-honr of the shallowest talk, in which Mrs. Baddeley and Lord St. Austell were the- chief per- formers. ' You can hardly be engaged at breakfast time." " If I were I would give up my engage- ment for you," replied Helen with her car- essing smile. " I will give up my dance to- morrow night, if yon like." " No, -no. You shall make no sacrifices. Come at ten o'clock to-morrow. That will not be too early, will it " " No. I always wake early. I never sleep more than four or five hours." " Very different from me," said Mrs. Bad- deley. "I sleep like a dormouse till it is dme to put on my habit for the Row." She gave a great yawn and a sigh of re- lief presently when the outer door closed upon Lady Belfield. "That dear soul ia utterly charming in Devonshire," she said, "but she rather palls upon one in London. She requires to be set off by the back ground of a mediaeval Abbey." " She is the most unselfish and pure mind- ed woman in this world," protested Helen, warmly, and then she turned her back upon the trio â€" Mr. Beeching, St. Austell, and Leonora â€" end walked to an open window at the end of the room, and stood looking out watching Lady Belfield'b hired Victoria as it turned round the comer of the street, with eyes almost blinded by tears, St. Austell followed her to the window. "What a sensitive nature it is which every chance touch can move to pain," he said. " You ought not to expose yourself to this kind of thing, Helen. You ought to be far away from the possibility of jarring influences." Mr. Beeching had found speech by this time, and was exchanging muffled remarks with Mrs. Baddeley, as they shared the at- tentions and chance snaps of the Tory poodle. When had Lord St. Austell begun to call Mrs. Belfield by her Christian name Helen could not remember the exact mo- ment of ^hat marked change frbm conven- tional respect to privileged familiarity. It was in a waltz perhaps, when, lured by ex- quisite music, she had held on too long, and had been almost fainting on his shoulder, with the world all melting round her, as if there were no more reality in life, only a sweet vague'dinoness, the perfume of golden lilies, golden lights glimmering in a pale haze, and his voice murmttring tenderly, " Helen, my Helen." Was it thus, or in some other way, the change came about? She hardly knew. Nothing in her life seemed to have had a be- ginning. She had floated along she knew not whither, lulled in balmy zephyrs, lapped in warm sunshine she had drifted down a tropical river in an atmosphere of dream- land. He called her Helen now as a matter of course and he told her every day and many times a day that there was something amiss in her life. That which was wrong was her feeble hold upon propriety, her last tenacious clinging to her duty as a wife. Her footsteps were faltering just upon the hither side of the line that severs innocence from guilt. She could still hold up her head and say to herself, " I may be passion ately in love with St. Austell, as he is with me but I am true to my husband all the same, and nothing could ever tempt me to betray him." TeUing herself that she lived in daily commune with the tempter, the man whose name was a synonym for seduc- tion and who was so much the more dan- gerous in her case because this time he was really and desperately in love. " â- ^r. (TO BE OONTINTJED.) Ohivaliy on the Wane, and Why. "It is a curious fact," remarks the Bos- ton Transcript, " that the more we become like the Old World, and the further we get away from the crude period in which onr Western brethren are sapposed still to remain, the lower the standard of men's chivalry toward women seems to sink. No lady stands in a street car in Dead- wood or Leadyille but in Paris, the capit- tj of civilzUion, there is no such thing as chivalry to unknown women in the public streets." Oar contemporary need not have gone further tlian New York to find a low standard of men's chivalry towards women. In New York it ia a rare thing for a man to give np his seat in a street car to a lady. The reason for the decay of ' chiv- alry" is not difficult to find. In propor- tion aa the rights of women are demanded and conceded the chivalrous sentiment be- comes weaker. In New York it is thooght that if the ladies have equal rights with men they cannot expect to have the privileges which were so cheerfully aocordedc them in the age of chivalry. In Toronto the women's rights movement haa not made much head- way, and, aa everybody knows, the ladiea are never allowed to want aeata in atreet cars. Irrifeated Frenchman (to American who haa mistaken him for a waiter) â€" Sir-r, yon haf gr-r-roady inaolted me. Then ii my card. Myaeoondavlllvattiiponyoa,dr-r-r." ^w.aij«»ii â€" "Never mind yonr aeoonda, Fcenohy. Yoo can wait on me jnat aa-weB. PWi me the Woneitwdiirt mhmc^ and be qaiokakoBfclt." j;^^i,: SM -^^i: %\;;^;:c^ j/^^An; HEALTH. Kw Some airii Live. They «e to bed at night and fall into a aort of stapmr; why not? Is there one Ineadi ot freah idr in their aleepingboz T Do they ever, exoept in the heat of sammer, liave atf much as a crack Of the window open? If there ia a fireplaoe in their room or a atovepipe hole don't they doae it ap as tightly as they can No wonder it is ao hud to wake up in the morning. I can hear them groan and moan and yawn and aoold now, at the imperative summons to get np. And what do they find on the break- fast table Sweet fried cakes, something in the diape of meat, generally fried, pota- toes, dther fried or stewed, hot coffee, and probably " griddle cakes," fried of coarse. Now, I am not going on a cmsade against the frying-pan, for it has its uses, but when I see a girl ut down at the breakfast table with dull eyes, a sallow face, a Ustless manner and proceed to make that early meal of strong coffee, sweetened cakes, fried pork, and po- tatoes, with a sequence of griddle cakes Uberally buttered and drowned in molasses, I fed like shutting her np for a week's starvation on bread and water. Then there is dinner tough meat, baked vegetables, pie, any kind of a pie with a crust either tough or sandy tasting strong- ly of lard and filled with things most con- venient. A favorite pie in some country homes is constructed of sliced lemon, flour, smd moltbsses, baked in a mass as unfit for the human stomach as a stewed rubber over- shoe. Tea-time brings cakes of various sorts, probably more pie, cheese, fruit preserved, and so ill done it is fermented, or canned fruit which is comparatively harmless, strong tea and hot biscuit. Keeping OcoL With the advent of hot weather, the pur- suit of bodily coolness becomes the aim jf every intelligent person. The majority of men are wholly given over to gross delusions concerning this matter. There is the delu- sion that claret, not to speak of stronger liquids, is the proper thing to drink in hot weather. Now, inasmuch as alcohol bast- enc the process of combustion and increases the heat of thp body, to drink iced claret in order to cool the system is about as sen- sible as it would be to place a few pounds of ice on a hot stove, and sit by it until the ice should melt away. As a rule, eating and drinking anything whatever has a tendency to increase the bodily tempera- ture though, of course, there is a great difference in the heating form of different articles of diet. The less one eats or drinks the cooler he will be, and it is hardly neces- sary to remark that were this process carri- ed to a fatal extreme the coolness of tbe corpses resulting there from would be ad- ditional proof of the soundness of the theory. Not to dwell upon the irra- tional means by which men who are anxious to become cool only succeed in ren- dering their condition warmer than it would otherwise be, let us speak of the true source by which a rising thermometer may be sue cessf ally defied. The bath, in its various forms, is the sovereign defense against ex- cessive heat. There is the bath taken by the small boy at the river side, the efficacy of which is shown by the success With which the bather subsequently defies the intense heat of the sun's rays as they fall directly upon the shadeless piers. Better than the river bath is the suri bath, which u usually succeeded by subsequent resting under shady arbors, by which its cooling effect is made to last for several hours. The sponge bath is better than no bath at all, but it is attended with difficulties which nullify to some extent its good effects. The strain upon the intellect involved in the effort not to sprinkle water upon the carpet, and the excitement consequent upon the perpetual search for the soap, which eventually loses itself and evades recapture with aggravating slipperiness, seldom fail to quicken the pulse of the person attempting a sponge bath to such an extent as to render the bath of but slight efficacy as a cooling process. Bat above and beyond all other baths, antago- nists of summer heat, are those admirable inventions, the Turkidi and Russian baths. Every one knows that in the former hot air and in the latter hot vapor are the agents employed to produce the profuse perspirv tion which is the distinguishing feature of these baths. By their action the tempera tare of the body is rapidly lowered, and the subsequent processes of the bath, being wholly devoid of all possible fatigues, tend to keep the body in the cool condition in which the bather emerges form the hands of the shampooer. One of theae baths taken at the end of the day insures a cool and com- fortable night, or if taken at midday enables the bather to endure with something like contentment the heat of the hottest July afternoon. Like other blessings, however, they can be indulged in to excess. A too frequent repetition of the Turkish or Rus- sian bath has a perceptibly weakening ef- fect, and there cure certain diseased condi- tions in which even the moderate use of either is frausht with danger. A person in ordinary heaUh, however, can find no Itix- nry that is to be compared with the cooling and invigorating bath which he receives in a perfectly- managed bath house conducted upon either the air or hot-vapor systems; and in the hot weather which we must an- ticipate for the next two months, the secret of almost perpetud coolness will be found only in the intelligent use of the oriental bath. Mnscle-fonning food. " What is the best food for producing muscle " Thu question, asked frequently, is a legitimate one. Some foods are par- ticularly moscle-formers others produce fat, and still others brain and nerve, while most of tiie common articles of diet combine these uses in varying degrees. Bat the question, to cover our entire phy- ncal needs, requires to be broadened into this What combination of food will beat nourish the body Even then tiie answer must be modified to suit individnd cases. Tor the digestive power differs greatly in different persona. Moreover, there is an interdependence betweoi the different bodily organs and tiasues, ao that the body maat be bult op. as a whole. If one ]^art lacks, tiie whde snffera, and if one part ia overfed, the otiiera will be underfed. Thna a peraon who bectMiiea ondnl^ fat loaea in maacalar ftbare, dther in qnantity or qnaKty. One wlio oveifeeda the taain loaea ki mnaoalar atniurtii. So, tooi mnsenlar davdopmaBfe nuqr m eanied to aaiA ezoeaa MtoiaqwrafUi ilie bnia, and abo to re- dooe the t of the body bdow What la ae oeaaary both aa aarploa food laid np for emergendea, and aa a proteotioB agpiin^t aaddan diangea of temperatoie. The beat food for prodndng mnadot moat, whila being dnly appetizing, oontdn a large per oent. (1) of nitrataa for the mnsotoa, (2) of phoaphatea for the brain and nervoa, ^nd (3) of oarbonatea for the fat. Of the firat daaa, thd nitratea, beans atand at the head at twenq^-fonr per oent. then pease at twenty-two cabbage and nlmon at twenty oats at seventeen egga and veal at sixteen, and bed at fifteen. 01 the second class, the phosphates, aalmon stands first at seven then codfish at six beef and eggs at five beans and veal at four, and cabbage, pease and oats at three. Of the third class, the carbonates, batter stands at the heskd at one hundred rice at eighty com and rye at seventy-two wheat at sixty-nine oate at uxty-ux peas at wx.' ty beans at fifty-seven and cabba^ at f ortj*- six. Fresh codfish fried in fat or served with butter gravy about equals beef in all reapecta and so do eggs fried in fat Beef witii cab- bage makes a very nutritious diet. Bat we must add 1. The mere eating of food cannot make muscle. The muscles most be oalled into vigorous daily exercue, yet without over* doing. 2. Excessive eating isweakening,and must be avoided. It is the amount digested and assimilated that tolls, not the quamtity tak3n into the stomach. 3. All the laws of health most be steadily observed. Misplaced Energy. Overwork is an American disease, and women H re the greatest sufferers from it. Much of this suffering is uncalled for, uid wholly unnecessary. Many women have be- come drudges to the prevailing humor of the day, and gve their best energies to fancy work and the over-ornamentation of their homes. Hundreds of women cannot read, or develop themselves mentally, because they "do not have time." Yet it is the houses of which these women are mistreasea that are overcrowded wit i furniture, and are painfully suggestive of the labor involved in caring for it. Wrinkles used to indicate age, but now they indicate worry. We have onr school- girls with wrinkled foreheads and harassed expression, already being trained to live un- der the " no time" pressure. One is eJmost tempted tu say. Blessed be they who have nothing and expect nothing J Looking at life from this standpoint, one is led to feel that St. Paul was the most enviable of men, for he had lewned contentment in the pre- sent tense. Discontent is at the bottom of nine-tenths of the overwork and hurry among women they must make just as good an ap- pearance as their neighbor, whose income is far more, or whose, necessary expenses cure far less, than their own. Unless we are in- dependent enough to make standards of our own, and live up to them, refusing to give up the liberty of ornamenting and dressing as best suits our position and tastes, life de- generates readily into a competitive struggle for the first place in our set, let it be rich or poor. Answered. i .; Parson Green was one of the school com- mittee in the town of Briarfield, and one of his hobbies related to the study of geogra- phy. He contended that very littie time should be spent over foreign countries, but that each pupil should leave a common school with a clear and accurate knowledge of his own State's resources and topography. Not only was he devoted to this theory, but he lost no opportunity of promnlgatini; it. " Visiting school" one day, with a ooUea- gne who ventured to differ with him on this point, the minister undertook to illustrate his views by practical example. Selecting a particularly bright little girl in the geo- graphy class which had been reciting about Africa, he sedd to her " What do you know about the scarce of the Nile?' The little maid thereupon gave a vivid account of explorations and hardships, at which her teacher smiled approvingly. " Do you know where Liberia is " She answered promptiy smd correctly. " Can yon tell anything about the ancient city of .Mexandria " It proved that she coald tell a great deal, and when she had distinguished herself, in the eyes of her classmates, by enlar^g upon it, the minister suddenly changed his tactics. "What town in your State mimafactarea most cloth " he asked. The child hung her head. She did not know. *How many mountains are there over three thousand feet high " She had apparentiy never been told. The minister looked triumphantiy at his friend. " Now, you see," he went on, " this child doesn't even know enough about her own State to utilize its advantages when ahe grows np. Tell me, my little mrl, if you wanted to go from your home to New York, what line of railroad yoa would ti^e, and what bodies of water you would orpas. " I don't know, sir," sorrowfully said the child. "Then you see youraelf that yon don't know anythinir about your own State," aaid he, determined to drive the question home. " Well, if you wanted to take sack a joat ney, what should you do " The child was driven to the wall, and, like many a weaker creature, she turned at bay. Her eyes were full of tears, and her hp quivered, but she replied bravely, "I should just ask my papa to take me to the stetion, and buy my ticket I" She was questioned no more that day. Altogether Too GommnnioatiTe. A very pretty littie gbl, only three years old, attracted tiie attention of passengers in a Montreal tnun for Toronto the other day, and finally one |^tieman succeeded u getting her upon his knee. " miere are yoa going, sissy?" he in- quired. "I'm going to Toronto," sud the child, adding eatwly " I've dot on a new pair of flannd drawers Did yoa ever have a psJr of flannel drawers " Farther inquiries were smothered in the laughter of everybody within hearing. A man in Lima, O., recentiy reodved £rom friends in Wattsville, Pa., a letter that it took him nearly all night to read. 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