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_ The bristling snout, the huge wide mouth armed with teeth nearly a foot in length, the fiery, bloodshot eyes, the bulky body, the tough hide wrinkled about the short, thick neck, with brokâ€" en shells, mud and sand adhering to it, gaye to this monster a truly hideous @spect, which was heightened by harâ€" By this time they had concluded to abandon the search for the present ; so heading their canoes for the river, they â€"soon disappeared round & projecting point. «Port !" he shouted, quickly to the coxswain ; but, ere he could be obeyed, the boat struek the object violently, and was almost capsized. Immediateâ€" ly the water parted, and then, with a gurgling roar, an enormous hippopo! tamus, not less than eleven feet long, reared its head and uncouth proporâ€" portions from the sea, close to the gig ! As soon as she was seated in the gig near her parent, the light craft was started on its way. It was soon near one of the canoes, and the bow of which projected several harpoons, with a long "rope attached to each. On questioning the natives, the captain learned that they were looking for a large hippopoâ€" tamus which they had struck up the river, but which hadâ€"escaped after half & dozen harpoons had been planted in his body. _ The order now was given for the gig to be turned back toward the ship, and the craft pulled swiftly, was passing beâ€" tween two low flat rocks twenty feet apart, when about half a fathom ahead, the captain detected a large, dark mass beneath the calm surface of the water. Having smashed one of the canoes, and killed a man in it, the monster had made toward the mouth of the river, and then ha d gone down, since which the hunters had seen nothing of him. He ordered his gig lowered, and Wharton as . senior midshipman, went with him. The young man had sprung into the boat when he heard Grace pleading with her father to be allowed to go, too. There she stood in the gangway, her lovely eyes shining and her cheeks aglow with curiosity, The captain at first objected to her goâ€" ing, but he finally gave in. The captain soon came up when his curiosity also was aroused. "I must see what the matter is there," be said. As he sadly repaired to the upper deck he noticed that the officers there had their glasses pointed shoreward. The vessel was becalmed about two miles fro.n ths coast with the mouth of a broad streamâ€"the RioGrandeâ€"plainâ€" ly in sight. Paddling swiftiy to and fro in canoes, near the bend of the river, among the low rocks to the eastâ€" ward of the Bissagos Islands, were a few natives, evidently much excited and in quest of something. The young man withdrew much crestâ€"fallen. Years might elapse beâ€" fore lie was promoted lieutenant, and meanwhile Grace might become the bride of another, "Enough, sir,‘‘ interrupted the cap tain. "I will be equally frank. It would not please me for any officer unâ€" der the rank of a lieutenant to pay his addresses to my child. I have lately spoken to her on this subject, so that she understands my wishes and also my instructious for her to receive no further attentions from one of your rank." â€"â€""Mr. Wharton," he said, "it is best that you should not couverse with Miss Manton when she is on deck. To be plain, sir, I believe in the fitness of things. She is a cerptain‘s drughter, and you are but a midshipman. Strict discipline requires that we should be very particular about these matters in the navy. Your attentions to my daughter have already excited com ment in the wardâ€"room " Wharton colored deeply. "Sir," be stammered, "Iâ€"I will obey you ; but to be frank with you, I love your daughter, andâ€"‘" After the vessel had sailed from Sierra Leone he summoned the young gentleman to his presence. The hawkâ€"like eve of her father enâ€" abled him to take in the situation of affairs. Mr, Wharton, a passed midshipman of seventeen, had known the girl be fore he sailed from home, and had even then admired ber. . He was now grown to a fine muscular fellow, and with the down plainly visible on his upper lip ; and it was evident by Grace‘s manner whenever he spoke to her thut she favor» ed his attentions. The old quartermasters aft looked at each cther with grim amusement when the little "reefers" of twelve and thirâ€" teen took to putting on airs, strutting about with heads erect in their smartâ€" est uniforms every time the fair pasâ€" senger appeared on deck. When the U. 8. sloopâ€"ofâ€"war Centâ€" aur, toward the end of ber cruise off the African coast, stopped at Sierra Leone, and the captain‘s daughter, Grace Manton, a beautiful girloffifteep, who had been staying at the settlement with an uncle, was taken aboard for the passage home, there was no end to the prinking a mong the midshipmen all of whom were anxious to show off to the best advantage before the young ladyv. A SWIM FOR LIFE. BY RUPHUS HALE. A minute latter Wharton was helped into the boat, much exbausted, after which the cutter was directed to the Injured and confused though it was by the shot, yet owing to the resistance of its remarkably tough hide, it was not killed. With a loud snort it turnâ€" ed slowly ; then it swam confusedly to and fro, until amother ball came from the swivel, and crashed through the bones of his head, shortly putting an end to its struggles. At last he found himself within ten fathoms of the cutter, but the brute behind him was so near that he was again obliged to dive. The monster went swooping down after him, and this time when he rose, he found his terrible pursuer close to him. _ Exbausâ€" ted as he was, he endeavored to swim to one side, knowing that the animal could not very quickly turn its unâ€" wieldly proportions ; but ere he could strike out, the hippopotamus, with a hoarse bellow, reared itself to spring at the youth to bite his body in two, when the roar of the swivel in the cutter was heard, and the ball struck the huge beast on the neck. The cutter‘s crew worked manfully at the oars to reach him, while their officers shouted encouragement to him. A veritable swim for life it was, and it was only by the most tremendous exertionsâ€"by alternately diving and changing his courseâ€"that he was enabled to avoid his pursuer. But such exertions soon nearly exhausted him, and his efforts, to escape became weaker. He had severai narrow escapes, and once the deadly fangs just missed his shoulder as he dove. But the latter now dove, and when he came up he was several fathoms to the right of the monster. Bellowing with rage it turned towards him, and straining every muscle, he kept on swimming for his life. "Yes, papa, but I fear he will sacriâ€" fice himself to save us !" Grace anxiâ€" ously replied. "Ab, there he is gone ! she suddenly shrieked, as the uncouth pursuer, close upon Wharton made a dash for him. "Brave boy ! noble boy !" cried the captain. The youth was a powerful swimmer, but he was no match for the hippopoâ€" tamus, which though disabled by the harpoons sticking in its body, and a little encumbered by the entangling lines attached to the weapons, gained on the young sailor. When within a few feet of it, he drew his batchet and hurled it at the creature‘s bead, which it struck. â€" Then as be had expected, the attention of the infuriated beast was wholly drawn to himself, and now, as he made for the cutter, it pursued him. He threw off his cap, his jacket and his shoes ; then he sprang into the sea, bold!y swimming to meet the animal which was approaching. have t fellow. ©Cptain Manton, I will save your daughter." "You cannot, sir. That hatchet will be as a mere toy to such a monsâ€" ter." Young Wharton laid a hand on the boat‘s hatchet, which he had thrust into his belt and with a look of cool reâ€" solution on his embrowned visage, he said : A cutter had been lowered from the ship aod was rapidly approachiug, but as 16 was still about a hundred fathoms distant, it could not reach the rock in time for a rescue. The captain, assisted by tue young midshipman,{swam with Grace to the siallest and nearest of the two rocks already mentioned, which was now onâ€" ly a few fathoms distant, while the crew struck out forthe larger one. _ As they helped Grace upon the rock they had reached, the girl‘s father saw the . luppopotamus making straight toâ€" wards them, dashing the water from his broud breast, and snorting with fury, his mouth wide open, with some of the boat‘s plinters adhering to his terrible fangs. We are lost !" cried Grace. A look of agony came over the capâ€" tain‘s face, as he threw a protecting arm ahout his only child, and hastily glancâ€" ed wbout him, vainly trying to think of ‘ some way to save her. ing through it as if it had been made of pasteboard, while the powerfu! form, dushed against the side of the light creft, capsized it in a moment ‘ The men bad pulled five strokes when the krute made a dash for the boat. The captain drew his sword and struck at the pursuing animal but the blade made but little impression on the tough hide, and soon, the point catching in it, a twist of the powerful form snapped the weapon in twain. The creature was now almost upon the unarmed erew, when _ Midshipman Wharton seizirg an oar, endeavored to thrust it down the throat of the beast. But the latter, with a roar of fury, erushed the wood to splinters, and deâ€" fiintly tossed it ffom bim. Wharton then seized the boat‘s hatenet, but ere he could deal « blow the enormous teath closed over the bow of the gig, crashâ€" "Quick, boys ! break away from it ! It is that ugly fellow that escaped the natives. "I poons projecting from one of its sides, and by the coils of line enâ€" tangled about its form. Grace, with a cry of terror‘ clung to her father, who shouted : will save Miss Manton, sir, if I to die to do it," replied the young [ oo 1 cimeraeniragce His "old sweetheart" stole out from the shadow of the curtain and came and stqod before him, and looked up into his face. There was no reproach in the look, no blame, only wonder. Then she bounded into the lap of the woman who sat beside him, and rubbed her soft, furry head against her handâ€" purring the whileâ€"Jerome C. Bull, To have you here, where I have worked and lived, and to know that you are soon to be mine, mine, mine, dearest, fills me with joy undreamed before," and he drew her close into his arms and kissed her again and acain. And then he went away and stayed days and daysâ€"a week nearly. She lived partially with the family belovâ€" they saw that she was alone and took compassion on ber ; but it was a comâ€" passion that brought no peace. When he did come home she bounded on the stairs to meet him ; but there was someone with himâ€"a woman ; and he had his arm about her. His "old sweetâ€" heart" drew back. Who was this new one coming into her realm ? What could it mean ? She crept back into the shadow of a heavy curtain and watched them. They sat down in the great arm chairâ€"he with his arms about her. The sun came inâ€"a. flood of gold, and fell on the red rug before them. Out of the window they could see the tops of many houses below them. One day he came home and coming in did not mind her offered caressesâ€" did not take her in his armsâ€"did not call her his "sweetheart," but changed his dress and went away hastily, leayâ€" ing her with hardly a word. And again be aid it, and again. She did not know why. She was miserable. When he came home from workâ€"he worked in a newspaper office down townâ€"she was always at the door to meet him. She never mistook his step ; never listened for others. That first caress at the door she loved :so dearly. When he was not worried with busiâ€" ness, or was not reading, he would take ber in his arms and love herâ€"as she loved most to be loved. They were a happy pair of roomâ€"mates. He used to say to her : "I wonder how long we can live thus together ? We are so happy." He had taken her from a world vastâ€" ly different from his own. His friends wondered at his fondness for her ; some of them were disgusted at the intimacy â€"for, you see, they did not understand her, nor see her as he didâ€"they knew only that he had "picked her up," as the saying is on the street. They lived together, he and she, in apartments up town. . He was a poor writer himself and could not afford a better place. Their room was large and sunny ; its furnishings were simple and sufficient, â€"On the floor were rugs â€"she was as fond of rugs »s he of books ; he had his favoriteâ€"volume, she her choice carpet or skinâ€"he could afford such things because he loved them. She was a home body and selâ€" dom went out ; nor did she seem to care to know the people about her. He did not blame her for that, howeverâ€"they were not very nice people. _ She pleased him because she was alâ€" ways the same. He knew where to find her ; it was the finding of what he looked for in her that delighted him. He iooked not for love to find reproachâ€" es ; nor for fellowship to find strangeâ€" ness. She seemed to understand him and to know his wants by intuition. Still she loved him for what he did do, and did not dislike him nor blame him for not doing what he might have done. _ Her love of him was simple and pure and satisfied. Smaller than he, fairer, daintier, purer ; without his temper or his whims, without his worries, without his fears â€"and yet so sympathetic that all his pleasures and pains were hers tooâ€"his roomâ€"mate, surely, was his better half. He was very fond of herâ€"loved her, perhaps, after a fashion, and he did a hundred little things to please her (after all, you know, it is the little things that truly please us), and she was pleased with everything he did, just because it was he who did it. He hardly knew how pleased she was had he, he would have treated her a little better, I think. In time the lovely girl became his wife, and thus, with his promotion and the winning of a coveted bride, was he doubly rewarded for so gallantly avertâ€" ing from the young !ady and her fathâ€" er the fangs of one of the most terrible of monsters, by his perilous swim for life. A few months later Whartoa receivâ€" ed bis warrant as a lieutenant, when as Grace had forscen, her father no longer opposed the young man‘s wishes to be a suitor for her hand. "So be it. He certainly deserves it," replied the captain, with a . covert staile, for he weli knew why this proâ€" motion would please his daughter. "He should be rewarded, papa," said Grace. "A naval officer wants no reward for a brave act," answered her father. "How, then, can we reward him ?" "Promote him to lieutenancy," said Grace, softly, with downcast eyes. captain and his daughter who was taken aboard. As the vessel was headed for the other rock, to pick up the gig‘s crew, the captain cordially grasped the young midshipman‘s hand. _ ‘*You have done well, Mr. Wharton, and I shall not forget it he cried. His Roomâ€"Mate Waterloo County Chrcnicle. In speaking of the matter of credit and the causes contributing to success or failure in business, a brother editor remarks that he has no faith in the ultimate success of a man who depends upon cutting prices to sell his goods. In nine cases out of ten he will go under in time. Such a man cannot safely be given credit. It should be remembered, too, when a merchant becomes known to â€"be a cutter, the value of his stock in all departments is greatly lessened in the estimation of his wholesaler, and of customers as well. Neither can credit be given safely to a man who drinks to excess. In these days of keen competition a man wants a clear head and a steady nerve, and these are not gained by excessive drinking. _ Another bad feaâ€" ture which makes credit timid . is exâ€" travagant living. The man who spends money freely and is known to be an E. E. Hale had some pointed remarks on the morhid hunger for news. Some newspapers are conducted on the principle of furnishing some striking news in each issue ; but as some days there is nothing special to report, there is a temptation to manufacture someâ€" thing sensational that may help to sell the paper. This method should meet with universal condemnation. A dispatch from a western town stated that boxes of rifles were accidentally discovered in the basement of the Roâ€" man Catholic church in that place. _A Methodist editor wrote to the Methoâ€" dist minister‘ in the place asâ€" to /the truth of the report. The reply was that the Catholic church in that town had no basement, and nothing . was known there of the alleged discovery of arms. Last week the New Christâ€" ian Advocate gave two striking illusâ€" trations of this style of business. Sevâ€" eral papers copied from the Louisville Catholic Advocate a statement to the effect that while the Rev. John Ward, ‘a prominent Methodist clergyman of. Nekoma, Kan,, was blasphemously exalting Sam Jones above Jesus Christ he was struck with paralysis. The editor of the Advocate made inquiry, and answers from ministers of the loâ€" cality and others stated that no such man was known there, no such service was held. The whole story was a fabâ€" rication. The editor of the Advocate also mentions that the Advocate was blamed for not publishing an alleged encyclical letter from the Pope, which was a clumsy attempt to excite hostiliâ€" ty against the Roman Catholics, but which was a fabrication. One is led to ask what is the motive of those who manufacture these sensational falseâ€" hoods ? No doubt, in some cases there is a design to discredit some person or party ; but in most cases the object is to supply some newspaper with a sensational item. In a recent address on ‘Newspapers, Old and New, Rev. "It has become too common to see in American papers sensational reports of events which have never taken place, and for which there was no ground whatever. _ Staries of people who were buried alive and. were brought to life again are a favorite invention. . Recently a statement was widely circulated that large quantities of arms were being received by Roman Catholic priests of the United States. J The Christian Guardian, the official organ of the Methodist Church of Canada, in its issue of last week has the following : ©Yes,‘ he replied seorn{ully, ‘but T‘ll be blamed if I want to get there half an hour after the funeral is over,‘ and the conductor yelled, ‘All aboard !‘â€" Detroit Free Press. ‘He looked at me as if he felt real sorry for me. ‘Why don‘t you get on this train and go T I inquired. ‘It takes you right here, doesn‘t it, and leaves now in two minutes.‘ ‘Well, let me tell you nhout it,‘ coayâ€" ed the Detroiter, bound to please, as he twisted around to find » soft place on its worn out springs in the seat. ‘One day last fall I was in the town that has a branch road running someâ€" where off in to the country, and about three miles out there is a church with a graveyard where ~sleep the people who in life had their homes above it. The country road from the town passâ€" es the railroad station and runs along the track clear to the church. The train going down that way was apparently waiting for a funeral procession to cross the track, and as I stood in the doorâ€" way of the one passenger coach a cusâ€" tomer of mine came by. ‘One of our prominent citizens is to be buried to day down at Ebenezer,‘ he said, ‘and I want to go, but all the carriages are full,‘ ‘Is that the funeral passing ? I asked. ‘Yes. I just came down from the house.‘ ‘Confound it,‘ he said, ‘won‘t we ever get started P ‘What‘s the matter with this T‘ inâ€" quired the Detroit man philosophicaily. ‘It‘s the slowest train I ever was on,‘ he growled. ‘I‘ve seen slower,‘ returned Detroit, ‘Come off ; there never was one slower.‘ The Chicago drummer and the Deâ€" troit drummer. were trumping slowly wlong over a side issue railway in Inâ€" diana, and the Chicago man was amiâ€" able. Manufactured Sensational News. WIL Go Under in Time. Slow | _ It is probable that not more than |one in ten supposed colds have any connection with the closing of the pores. _ Most, if not all, of the irritaâ€" tion in the nasal passages, the inflaâ€" mation of the mucuous surfaces, not only of the usual passages, but of the throat, etc., with the sores about the nose and on the lips, usually regarded as "cold sores," have their origin in a deranged state of the stomach, the inner surface of this organ having a similar appearance. As a result of improper dietetic habitsâ€"taking food very difficult of digestion, too much of ordinary food, or at improper times, and eating so rapidly that it is not half masticatedâ€"some have a continuâ€" ous "head cold," and are unable to breathe with the mouth closed, thus inducing additional disease. The apâ€" propriate treatment of such supposed colds, etc.,is the "adoption of simple habits , careful dieting, making the grains and fruits more than usually prominent, eating flesh very sparingly if at all, and no pork. These supposed olds have led many persons to take undue care of the head, in contrast with‘the feet, which demand a great deal more attention as the means of warding off such dreaded evils. Anâ€" other doctor says that there is no doubt But, say everything we can against suffering, it still remains the bearer of irreplaceable blessings, _ First, pain is Love‘s mystery. In the midst of the pain there rise love, dependency, trust, and Tsuch a sense of appreciation towards those who are without as never was felt before. The hard, worldâ€"used heart is melted. The tears may flow for very joy, as our eyes open to what we possess in the dear ones who minister to us. And these are filled with how much greater tenâ€" derness and sympathy. They never knew the height nor depth of the love they bore to the sufferer. The sickâ€" chamber hallows the family. ‘Tears that flood the eyes to blindness, Wounds that touch us to the core, Open springs of loving kindness We have never known before. Suffering does not in itself sanctify. It may scorch and blacken and inflame, rather than purify. It may harden rather than refine. Not all souls are alike. Nor are all pains alike. And while the "first pressure" ofsorrow may crush from the heart a good wine, yet afterwards "the constant weight of pain" may also bring forth bitterâ€" ness, the ‘"taste and stain" of the dreas. What is the necessity Jof sorrow ] From where do these disappointments and griefs fall upon us by the multiâ€" tude with crushing force ? Elijah is sad. Moses is sad. Jesus himselfâ€" is sad. Why do men eat ashes like bread, and women mingle their drink with, weeping? Why do these dark shadows stretch themselves out from the shore, and settle into the current of our being 1. ... | But I have my sorrows too. Neither the alleviations of luxury, nor the conâ€" dolence of friends, has lifted me out of their _ loneliness. _ Without claiming fellowship, or even the slightest comâ€" panionship, two souls meeting inâ€" the darkness would be very foolish to refuse such groping guidance as each may be able to extend to the other. Tt is better to go together, than singly, through the mysterious caverns in the great wounded heart of humanity, â€"to pull up, as the restless mind must do, the griefs that â€" grow there, by the roots, to find out what they are. VW daichiee 3 "Here I and sorrow sit." You do not want me to know. I do not want to know. Nor could I unâ€" derstand. I would not lift the veil from mystery. Nor would I touch the arrow, for fear of turning the barbh in the wound. Only the heart knows its own bitterness. Not a friend or stranger may intermeddle. 20 C090 JOUu are bhe keeper of your own secrets. _ You have not asked for sympathy. _ The nobler the spirit of the bird, and the more majestic her mien, the more does she conceal the arrow in the heart, beneath, and by, her gentle piumage. _ To itself, alone, even, the soul will scarcely admit [From "Heartâ€"Broken," by Theodore E. Schmauk.] ’ The angel of sorrow, as ever of old, still has arrows enough for every living heart. Sooner or later, sorvow darkens every doorway. â€" The music of multiâ€" tudes of homes may be joyous for years, but an hour draweth nigh when there steals in a change of the melody . . .. I feel almost sure that the soul I am addressing has been touched at the edge by woe, if not actually smitten to the heart with grief, and sinking beâ€" neath its stroke. Not that it is apâ€" parent to the eye. You may be able to keep it back, and say, "Down, thor: climbing sorrow !" _ Not that your lip has let one word fall. Great grief will not be told. _ "There is no grief like the grief which does not speak." Nor have I seen the iron enter. Though it be there, you are the keeper of your extbravagant liver, will usually bear watching carefully. _ Another safe rule to follow is not to trust any man . too much. _ Opinions vary as to how much credit a man is entitied to, but it is safe to say that no man ought to be trusted for more than a quarter, or a third atâ€"most, of his visible assets.â€" Pharmaceutical Era. THE ANGEL OF SORROW A "Cold in the Head. The rules that govern good conduct in an individual are those that should prevail in the offices of newspapers. There is news enough in the world in which the public is rightly interested to fill the columns of our newspapers every day in the year ; but the trouble is that gossip and scandal are often According to Dun, Wiman‘s circular the wealthiest nation on the globe is the United States, which has an asâ€" sessed valuation of $47,475,000,000, Great Britain coming next with $43,â€" 600,000,000. _ France ranks third $40,300,000,000; then Germany with $31,600,000,000. _ Russia comes next, $21,714,000,000, _ Austria following with $18,065,000,000 and Italy sucâ€" ceeds with $11,755,000,000. Spain is worth $7, 965,000,000 ; the Netherâ€" lands,$4,935,000,000; Belgium, $4,030â€" 000,000. The assessed valuation of Sweden is $3,475,000,000 ; of Canada, $3,250,000,000 ; of Mexico, $3,150,â€" 000,000 ; of Australia $2,950,000,000 ; of Portugal, $1,855,000,000 : of Denâ€" mark, $1,830,000,000 ; of the Argenâ€" tine Confederation, $1,660,000,000 ; of Switzerland, $1,620,000,000 ; of Norâ€" way, $1,410,000,000 ; of Greece, $1,â€" 055,000,000; totaling up to somewhere about $253,694,000,000, a tolerable pile forsooth, but very little of it is to be seen or fingered to any extent. The wealth of a man consists not in what he has, but in what he is ; therein lies his wealth, present and to come. is natural enough, considering the fact that scratches made by them are genâ€" erally quite irritable and much inclined to unusual inflamation. The â€"fact, however, is that the nails themselves have no poisonous properties, but the trouble caused by them is due to the foreign deposits under them. â€" In other words, if one keeps his finger nails clean, scratches â€"caused by them: will be no more irritable than those proâ€" duced by any instrument that is conâ€" sidered innocent. The results of an examination made in Vienna shows that it is more important that the finger nails be kept clean than is supâ€" posed. _ In the dirt taken from under the nails were found thirty kinds of micrococci, eighteen different bacilli dnd three kinds of sarcinae ; besides common mold spores were present in many instances. _ It. would seem from this that the spaces under the finger nails were favorable hiding places for minute organisms which are more or ’ less prejudical to health, and that therein lies the poisonous element atâ€" tributed to the nails. This shows that cleanliness of the nail is a very imporâ€" tant essential. It is not sufficient to use merely a knife blade, but at the toilet a nail brush and plenty of soap and water should be called into service. Surgeons long ago learned that deposits under the nails were a menace even to the life of a patient, because through them wounds were easily poisoned, and were thus led to extreme care in the matter of personal cleanliness on their own part and on the part of all their assistants. â€" Before an operation is performed all who touch the patient or the instruments which are to be used must first clean their hands thorâ€" oughly with soap and water, being especially careful to have the spaces under the finger nails absolutely clean. After this the hands are put into disinfectant solutions.â€"Phrenological Journal. Good Conduct in Journalism Are the Fingerâ€"Nails Poisenous ! There. is a common belief that the finger nails are. poisonous, which idea But as early as the times of the Valâ€" demars, the renowned Danish kings in the twelfth and fourteeuth centuries, the Jubland_ forests were fast disapâ€" pearing through ignorant waste and improvidence of the inhabitants, and giving room to shrubby copses and ultimate deserts, which for centuries held undisputed sway over Jutland‘s 3,500 square miles. I Sm en inednns on their roots deep below the bottom of the bogs. That such forests once covered Jutâ€" land, is indicated by the numerous places whose names embody such words as tree, forest. grove, oak and birch. _ This belief is corroborated by the oaken coffins and utensils found in the _ ancient hetherâ€"covered â€" burial mounds, and proved by the numerous trunks of birch and pine wood standing The peninsula of Jutland constitutes an area about twoâ€"thirds of the present kingdom of Denmark. Though the eastern part is fertile and timbered, the vest was an almost unbroken desert, which, until recently, was covered with dreary, dark, brown heather, or bare sandy downs with quagay bogs. These extensive forlorn tracts were only varied at wide intervals by narrow streaks of green meadow along the few winding water. courses and the widely scattered houses, bleak and bare in these most favored neighborhoods. that many colds.come through the feet. Thin soled shoes, and thick soles, standing on ice or snow, orcold wood, until the sole contains the same degree of cold ag that on which it rests ; then cold feet, cold legs, cold abdomen, cold lungs, cold in the throat, and in the head.â€"Hall‘s Journal of Health, The The Wealth of the World Ancient Forests of Denmark me through the feet. _ and thick soles, snow, or cold wood, ains the same degree mée. J MERIT | o D EQUNDED OM MERIF All the powerful and really useful disinfectants corrode metal and stain srockery more or less, Copperas is the best for household use, one pound disâ€" solved in twelve quarts of boiling watâ€" er, and used hot, being more effective than cold. The valve should be open when it is poured down closets, so that it need not settle in the pab, which should be washed daily with a long handled dishâ€"mop kept for the purpose, and sealding, strong suds, when it .will need no further disinfection. A. large funnel should be set in the pipes of stationary wash bowls, which, by the way, are unfit for a huwan habitation and unknown in the best modern houses. W hen the fine Astor mansion was built uptown the owner positively forbade a single stationary bow!l in the dressing roon.s, an example which has since been followed in other highâ€"class houses. â€"Philadelphia Star. e ie o one on e oo e e e ies tarch itself, and, and all the troubles that come from catarrh, are perfectly and perâ€" manently cured by Dr. Sage‘s Catarch Rem edy. : No matter how bad your case or of ow long standiug, you can be cured. Easy to takeâ€"Dr. Pierce‘s Pleasant Pelâ€" lets. Smallest, easiest eheapest best. They‘re tiny, sugarâ€"coated, antiâ€"bilious granules, a compound of refined and concentrated vegeâ€" table extracts. Without disturbance or trouble, Constipation, Indigestion Bilious Attacks, Sick and Bilious Headaches, and all derangements of the liver, stomach and bowels, are prevented, relieved and cured. Permanently cured, too. By their mild and natural action, these little Pellets lead the system into natural ways again. Their inâ€" fluence Zasts. Oh Southwind, thou loitering lover, I long for thy coming ! The air in the Northland is cold and drear, and my heart is yearning for the touch of thy hand. The earth is my mother, my father‘s the sun ; my mother has craâ€" dled me in her bosom the long winter through and the summer sun has beamed upon me, but thou art my lovâ€" er, oh Southwind, and for thee T long, for thee I live! Tipâ€"toed I stand in the golden beauty of my yellow plumâ€" age, with my green drapery about me seeking to feel thy warmth upon my face ; my bridesmaids, the tender vioâ€" ’ lets at my feet, exhale their sweet perâ€" fume, and the white and purple croâ€" cuses lift their faces to the morning sun, but thou alons, oh Southwind, can bring me life and love ! _ In the mornâ€" ing the dew of my tears is on my pilâ€" low, and the dreary night time finds me cold and sorrowing. Come to me, oh Southwind, come from thy sunny home, with the fragrance of orange blossoms about thee and the scent of magnolia in thy breath, come from the languorous South and caress me with thy touch ! Through the long winter I slept under the sod, dreaming of the happy summer time when thou, oh Southâ€"wind, would return, when the birds would make joyous music, and I should bask in the sunshine of thy love and be glad ! ‘ The winter is gone, my sister flowers are peeping up all about me, but my loved one cometh not, and my heart is sad. _ Come, oh Southwind, thou laggard lover, come ! _ ‘Tis I, the Daffodil, calls thee ; haste to woo me, breathe upon me with thy warm breath, kiss me, caress me, oh. Southwind, for my heart is weary with waiting and my cheeks are wet with tears !â€"A. F. Pirie in the Dundas True Banner. v?‘?::wsm‘*’“‘*gf“” & caas is g \.('?GOZ?% A "SUNLIGKT" PILLAR more interesting than matters of real moment. The rule of gentlemanly conduct ought to be the rule of the editor and publisherâ€"as, happily, it very often isâ€"and, as Judge Wallace wisely pointed out mere gossip and scandalâ€"mongering are not excused by the answer that the patrons of a newsâ€" paper want what they ought not to have.â€"Harper‘s Weekly: Every thing catatrhal in its nature, caâ€" CLEANSING i| Excmencefi The Cry of the Daffodil PurRity [] Disin ectants