Published wary Mondaymoming at nine o‘clock.
NEW YORK, JUNE 10, 1876.

'iho Bswnnsv Joann]. in Ioltl b I“ New-dealers in the United
In». and in the Canadian Domitian. Parties unable to obtain it
hom c newsdoalor, or those preferring to have the pa or sent direct,
by null, from the publication ofllce, are supplied at the allowing "to:

Tor-s to Subscribers, Postage Prepaid:
Onooopyfiour months - - 01.00
“ ‘ one you - - - . . 3.00
Two copies, on. you - - - 5.00
in nil out" for Inhocri tions be cucnt to give addre- in full—
Inn, 00-? and Town, The p: r is always stop ed, promgtly, at
uphth o nilaipflon. Subcc ptiou can start w th any la num-
bot.
fun "-11 undin money for subscription, 5 mill lover
below it a nap in c registered letter. K Pon'Ofloo
Mon Order is the but. form of remittance. Losses by mail will be
Illn nnly avoided if the“ directions are followed.
All communications, subscriptions, and letters on bnslnou,
Illa d be addressed to

BEADLI AND ADAMS, PUILIIIIII,
98 WILLIAK St, N“! Yolk.

 

 

 

 

MRS. MAY AGNES FLEMING
In” one of her Greatest Creations.

Next week commences Mrs. Fleming's superb
romance——

LA MASQUE,
THE VAILED SORCERESS;

The Midnight Queen.
A TALE 0F ILLUSION, DELUSION, AND MYSTERY.

A romance of London during the Great Plague,
throwing a lurid light on that awful visitation,
whose victims were numbered by tens of thou-
sands; and introducing many celebrated his-
toric characters of the dissolute court of
Charles, and a few of the true hearts who
struggled against mighty odds to save the whole
people from social, political and physical ruin.
With such a theme, and such characters, the

Authoress of the Magic Pen

has written a story so vivid, real and personal
that its every chapter is literally charged with
the fervor and power of her most vigorous
spirit. It is history illuminated with a subtle
painter’s skill; and one rises from its perusal
with a new conception of those days when
England seemed reeling in a frenzy of delirium
of debauchery and extravagance. Such novels
preach

A MIGHTIER MORAL LESSON

than whole libraries of sermons, for they do-
pict the inevitable result in the ruin'that comes.
It is a story of the deepest, most thrilling,
most absorbing interest, and will be read 11' id re-
read by all who realize what a truly great r0-

 

mance is.

Sunshine Pallets.

Needed Reformations.

REFORMS are the order of the day. There
are reformed churches and reformatory schools:
reform measures, reform committees, reform
bills, reform parties, reform platforms, and a
mania for reforms civil, social and ecclesiasti—
cal. Yet there are some social customs still re—
maining unaffected by this mania that greatly
need to be impregnated by its spirit. And not
the least among these are the customs that gov-
ern modern funerals, weddings, anniversaries,
and charities.

Funerals certainly might be bettered by a
reform movement in regard to them. In ac-
cordance with the fashion of to—day they are
but shows; which, if looked upon as indicative
in any way of the refinement of the American
people, are simply a disgrace to us. Who,
reading the account of a costly funeral that oc-
curred not long since, where strangers from the
streets were allowed to fill the scores of car—
riages that had been ordered expressly for dis-
play, could fail to feel intense disgust? Yet
that was only the outgrowth of an excess of
what characterizes too many funerals. A vul—
gar love of ostentation prevails powerfully in
our country. To be sure, it is a natural off—
shoot of the youth, prosperity and equality of
our social system, and an age in which fortunes
are made in a day, and gold is an open sesame
to power and position. Yet it is not an evil
that lies beyond the pale of reformation if only
the cultured classes in our communities would
frown upon such evident ill-taste, instead of
passively drifting into the same current. The
burial of our dead is not a fitting time for seek-
ing to cut-vie one‘s neighbor, gain a sensational
notice in a paper, or cause a nine-days’ gossip
among acquaintances. And then, the extent to
which the fashion of making floral presenta—
tions on such occasions has gone calls for some
speedy and severe reform movement. Flowers
are not out of place at a funeral, and no one
can appreciate their beauty more, nor the ten-
derness which prompts some of these gifts, than
the writer. But in too many cases these offer-
ings are merely formal and from donors whose
highest motives are to outdo in lavish expendi—
ture some social rival, and whose money
might be better spent in canceling neglected
debts. But the most serious evil arising from
this prevalence of funeral presentations is the
demand it makes upon many a hardly earned
and seriously needed dollar or half—dollar of
teachers, workmen, and laborers, who cannot
refuse to join their comrades in buying some
costly gift for master or chief who in life com-
pelled them to toil wearin for scanty salaries,
and in death has no need of their self—denial.

Again, weddings are occasions where a few
reforms might be advantageously effected, if
but enough sensible women could be found in
the world to inaugurate the movement. For
not seldom is good taste, common sense, and
future comfort, sacrificed to a determination
to make a grand splurge. Presents are expect-
ed alike from near friends and mere acquaint-
ances. A fact which renders attendance upon
weddings very onerous to many persons who
feel compelled to send some gift and yet can
scarcely afford to do so. And then the univer-
sality of this gift—giving encourages deceit and
lowers the standard of good taste by largely
forcing acceptance of imitation for reality—
for but half the presents given at weddings are
What they purport to be.

Following weddings come the numerous an-
niverla-l‘las of the same; the paper wedding at

the end of q. year, wooden Wedding at the end
of five years, tin at ten, crystal at fifteen, linen
at twenty, and silver at twenty-five. These
are 13168181113 epochs in the course of married
life; pleasant ‘30 I‘emember with one’s friends,

 

 

and pleasant to have one’s friends remember
for one. But when these anniversaries are
turned into occasions for polite beggary by in-
timating in dainty invitations that the guests
are not expected to come with empty hands, it
is quite time that some change be made in re-
gard to these social impositions.

And such reform measures as are needed in
regard to charities! And, as one, we would
suggest that no person shall plume herself or
himself upon her or his benevolence when such
benevolence takes the form of bestowing only
that which in any case would be worthless to
the donor. Charity which costs nothing is of
little account. Charity bestowed less for the
sake of the good it will do than for the sake of
the encomiums it will earn, is not the charity
which covers a multitude of sins. Indiscrim-
inate charity, bestowed merely to rid one’s self
of importunities, is a decided evil. While, of
all absurdities. what can be more absurd than
the misnomer, charity, applied to that exhibi—
tion of benevolence which devoutly expends it-
self in a five-dollar ticket for an entertainment
given for the poor and needy, and meets the
requirements of self-interest by expending sev-
eral hundred dollars upon a costume to display
at said entertainment.

As these needed reforms can only be effected
by cultured and influential women, let us hope
that a few such may glance here, and courage—
ously determine that they will take such a so—
cial stand against display, reckless expenditure,
and pernicious customs, as to lead into more
sensible usages the women who will look to
them for example.

A Pansox’s DAUGHTER.

 

DESERTED HOUSES.

DES’ERTED houses may be a very prosaic and
commonplace subject to many, and the houses
themselves have no interest, yet they always
invest themselves with a charm to me, and I
often weave quite a romance out of the bare
walls and empty rooms. Empty to others, but
occupied with persons besides myself to me.
I can people them with human beings—be—
ings who have had their joys and sorrows,
pains and pleasures, loves and hates, quarrels
and “ makings up ” again, living just such lives
as human beings with frail mortal natures al-
ways live.

TVhen I find myself wandering in one of
these deserted dwellings the humorous and pa—
thetic side of life, in its various phases, flits
through my mind and I give way to musing
and thinking.

I think it was just here that Jennie said
those harsh words to her beau which sent him
home feeling as though he wanted to jump
into the horse-pond—that caused him to say
he‘d “never visit her again “’ and she to de-
clare that “she hoped he never would.” Over
there is the chamber Where poor Jennie lay
awake all night with tear—blinded eyes. And
here it is again that the beau sat, for he did
come back, and where Jennie told him how sor-
ry she was for her conduct, for she did desire
his return, making up the quarrel, mending
the broken net and joining the severed links
~daylight taking the place of darkness and
making hearts light as feathers which once
were heavy as lead.

Maybe there was a marriage in this room,
which must have been a cheerful one. I hope
the marriage was as cheerful as the room it—
self, and that there were none of those pleas~
ant beings present to Whisper in the bride's
ear: “Men are deceivers ever!” or some male
biped to insinuate to the bridegroom: “ Frailty,
thy name is woman." It seems to me that
there is too much gravity in these weddings
at home, too much sobbing as though the
bride had done a very wrong thing in her en-
deavor to make a man‘s heart happy, to aid,
encourage and cheer him, to be a part of his
life and to know there are others to live for
besides herself. Is this a thing to weep about
and cast a damper over what should be a fes-
tival of joy?

Perhaps you will croak in my ears that “it
is a very solemn thing to be married." That
remark was made to some one else and the
reply was, “that it was a great deal more so]-
emn not to be."

Maybe sorrow found a lodgment among these
walls, long days of sickness, weeks when the
room must be darkened While the sun was
fairly dancing outside; voices and footsteps
must be hushed while the birds outside were
twittering, caroling and chirping around and
about the trees. “'eary nights of pain and
anguish when all but the poor sufferer was
still and quiet. HOW long the hours must have
seemed and how slowly the old clock—that
must have stood in that corner—seemed to
tick!

And the doors—could they narrate their
story—might tell us of the brides and bride-
grooms, the coffins, the mourners that have
passed through them. The thresholds are worn
by steps that have been both light and heavy;
feet have passed over them out into the world,
never to return.

The old fireplaces look cold and dark, yet
roaring fires have filled them once, and, be-
fore the blaze, stories have been told—per-
haps real love-stories by the very actors them—
selves—pictures have been formed in the fire,
pictures to many minds more beautiful than
any oil-painting, though executed by some of
the “ old masters.”

How many good things may have been kept
in this old cellar! I wonder how many fool—
ish creatures have gone down these stairs back-
ward on some dark night, without the sign of a
light, with a looking-glass in their hands, fully
expecting to see the face of their future life-
partner peering over their shoulder into the
glass, and then rushed up—stairs with a scream
and a scamper, helter-skelter, pell-mell, fright-
ened at the dark, and fearful lest they should
see exactly what they took so much trouble to
behole

Why can’t Old houses be taught to write
books and tell us of their experience? It
seems to me it would be interesting reading.
TVe love to read of these romances of real life,
although the lives are humble and though the
story be about such a lifeless thing as a desert—
ed house.

TVell, we must leave this old house, but, as I
close the door, I seem to leave invim'ble spirits
behind me who keep guard over the old place.
I shut the door and leave behind me much ro-
mance and emerge into the practical, work-a-
day world. EVE LAWLESS.

 

 

EXERCISE AND HEALTH.

PERHAPS not the least advantage which is
derived from muscular, active exercise, as op-
posed to passive exercise-(by which we refer
to a ride in a carriage or a Sail in a vessel), in
which latter case the abdominal muscles are the
only ones actively exercised—is cleanliness.
We mention this, as it has been little insisted
upon by the advocates of gymnastic training.
It belongs rather, perhaps, to a treatise on me—
dicinal than athletic gymnastics; but the two
are, at the present day, happily incorporated.

 

 

 

 

A microscope will show the millions of drains
with which the skin is perforated, for the sake
of avoiding efl’ete matter. This effete matter
can only be thrown off by perspiration, pro-
duced by exercise. If it is not thrown off it is
absorbed into the system, (particularly con-
sumption), and premature death are the result.
The result is produced by the canals of the skin
becoming clogged, which not only prevents the
refuse matter from coming out, but also pre-
vents oxygen—which is essential to life—from
coming in. We do not breathe with the lungs
only, consuming carbon and other matter, and
renewing the blood with oxygen as it passes
through them; the skin, also, is a respiratory
organ. Some animals have no lungs, and
breathe entirely with the skin; others, with a
portion of the skin modified into gills. 0r rudi-
mentary lungs.

In animals of a higher grade, though the
lungs are the instruments principally devoted
to this function, the skin retains it, still, to
such an extent that to interfere with its pores
is highly dangerous, but to arrest their opera-
tion fatal. The breathing of the skin may be
easily proved by the simple experiment of
placing the hand in a basin of cold water,
when it will be soon covered by minute bubbles
of carbonic acid. But a more complete and
scientific proof is afforded by inserting it in a
vessel of oxygen, when the gas will, after a
short time, be replaced by carbonic aid. “ “70
all know,” says Dr. Brereton, “from daily ex-
perience, the intimate symyathy which exists
between the skin and lungs, and what we are
walking fast, how much more easily we get
along, after having broken out in pers-
piration; if we are riding, our horse freshens
up under the same condition.” In these home-
ly words he is indirectly proving the chief sani—
tary characteristics of medicinal gymnastics.
lVe have most of us heard the story of the un-
fortunate child who, to add solemnity and
symbolic happiness to the inauguration of Leo
X. as Pope of Rome, was gilded over, at Flo-
rence, to represent the golden age. The career
of this child, so conditioned, was brilliant but
brief. It, of course, died in a few hours.

Foolseflapers.

'4
A Familiar Lecture on Science.

MY fellow-voyagers who tread the pleasant
paths that lead to vermifuge and honor, as you
sit under the cadences of my respiring voice,
you will please keep quiet in the matter of pea—
nuts, and be exhilarated by a familiar lecture
on science—the most scientific of all subjects.

Mr. Downs will please insert some material
wood into the stove, and be careful about em-
phasizing the stove door.

Unfortlmately I left my notes at home, and
will be obliged to draw on my memory on this
occasion. The lecture will be divided up into
divisions each division will be split up smaller,
and if there is any left it will be used for kind-
ling-wood.

'What is science? Science is the elimination
of the fundamental fundiments as applied to the
eccentric refrigeration in contamination with
the unsubstantial apothecary; vast in its con—
gestion and supplementary to the antimonial
circumanibiance of the disingeneous insigni-
ficance as indemnified in the festivity of the
pertinacity of the ostentatious delirium tremens,
as it were. The symplicity of this description
will be further deodorized when I say I am a
plain man and utterly discountenance obscure
terms that lead to universal bigamy.

But let us proceed by going forward. The
pursuit of science in the rough is like the pur-
suit of a straw hat on a windy day; when you
think that you have got it by the tail this time
you find there is opportunity for more exer-
tion. and you may eventually get the hat, and
you may bring up in a mud-puddle—just as is
most convenient.

The endless mucilage of the scientific equi-
noxial, I might be allowed to say, combined
with the subterranean empyrean involves in
the progress of receding ages the insipid neces-
sity of many interrogating questions; to the
hebdomadal mind these transfused through the
illimitable millennium shine forth, as it were,
in the commisserating concatenation of per-
petual chloroform, reiterate the irresistable im-
materiality, as you are well aware, of the sub-
lime petroleum. I hope there is no person pre-
sent who is capable of doubting the meaning
and the force of my words; if there is, he shall
leave the hall by particular request.

Science not only exalts the human mind, but
it lifts it up. Looking at it from my stand-
point through the inveterate phantasmagoric,
or in other words, paragoric, science evapor-
ates supremacy and elucidates proximity, while
it resolves the crustaceous efficacy of the pusila-
nimous incognito, proves the indivisibility of
the cotemporaneous turpentine, as embodied in
tangible vicissitude, and shows the inflamma—
tory monotony inverted by the promiscuous
rhinoceros; spiritualizes in ascending nodes the
synchronism of the eminent asparagus, and—-
and—that is to say—or in other terms—well,
I’m sorry I left my notes; I have to rely en-
tirely upon my memory.

It is a pleasing thing to follow the workings
of science in the right way. It not only ani-
mates the imaginative emporium and harmoni-
zes the metaphysical podogogue in abstruse in-
sensibility, but it goes further, as you well
know, and in deleterious vitriol recognizes the
opacity and irrefragibility of centrifugal apo-
plexy, apostatizes the elaborate ephemerio as
exasperated in the synonymous epiphany, de—
fines the minimum abrogation and hemispheric
of the transcendental asafoetida; establishes the
magnanimity of jocular insolvency, reduces the
mellifiuous itineracy of the magnanimous ano-
nymous in conspicuous superfiuity, and very
fully to my mind, establishes the plausibility
and extraneous inebriation of the—of the spec—
tacular calamus.

Some of my hearers may differ with me in
regard to some of these views expressed, but I
think if it was necessary I could very easily
prove that what 1 say is as so as it can be; and
great discoveries in truth are always startling
to the unstudied mind. I spent years of my
boyhood in the pursuit of science and some-
thing to eat.

I must bring my lecture to a close, but let
me say in conclusion that the proper way to
study science is to begin by precipitating the
promiscuous consanguinity irregularly extem—
porized in inclement hypotheosis, exaggerating
the urbanity of predominant incompatibility
with detrimental insanity, and prevaricate the
consecutive equivilants in intimidation of the
quadrennial collateral and go ahead. ,Am I not
correct?

You Will please pass the hat

WASHINGTON WHmHORN.

 

In a moment of zealous enthusiasm, a young
lady ata fair, in soliciting chances, stated that
she would raffle herself off at $1 a chance, five
hundred chances to be taken, when a gentle-
man whipped out his wallet and announced that

he would take the entire number. The fair one, ‘

surprised at such promptness, stated that the
prize would be withdrawn for private offers.

 

 

 

Topics. [the Time.

—A certain physician of Chicago has grouped a
mass of evidence and o lnions to the effect that
the remarkable climat c conditions which have
prevailed since last autumn portend a coming
epidemic, while the prevailing symptoms in per-
sons of phlegmatic temperament, chiefly women
and children, are characteristic indications of the
plague. The doctor is out. of patients and pa.-
tiencc, we surmise, because the country is so
healthy, generally, and proposes to get up a
scare to set people running after the doctors
upon the appearance of a pimple. Our advice is
—don’t be troubled about epidemics until you
see them at the door.

—Did you plant a tree on May 10th? If not,
you’ve neither eye for beauty, regard for
your fellow man to come after you, nor care
a ccnt’s worth about a pure atmosphere. If you
are indifi‘erent and your neighbor is indifferent, it
is: a first rate sign for settlers to avoid your
neighborhood. Trees are the lungs of the at-
mosphere; they do its breathing, taking 11 the
carbonic acid (poison) emitted by men an ani-
mals, and furnaces and fines, and giving back to
the atmosphere pure oxygen—which is the life of
all things that breathe. Hence trees are bene-
factors; they are as necessary as pure water and
pure food ; they are a blessing and a comfort in
various ways; they are beautiful and useful; and
he who pays no heed to them is a mean, sordid
soul whom it were a pity to class among our
fellow citizens. No fellowship for us, if you
please, with the man who has no love for trees.

—Talking about the extrava ance of females’
dress: it is a fact, not hard 0 belief, that the
great majority of women are not inclined to

rose as richly as their husbands desire. It is
only the foolish votaries of extreme fashion who
have been educated by foolish fathers and mo-
thers to believe that the chief end of women is
to dress better than other women. When a man
like Carl Schurz announces that the extrava-
gance of the sex is a bar to matrimony, it is
time to protest against the libel. It impresses

oung men with false notions of women—who,
in no respect, exceptin in the dispensation of
home hospitality, equa men in extrav ance.
Let men look about them carefully, an bear
witness to our assertion that their wives and
daughters do not, as a rule, yield to extravagant
dispositions without urging by their husbands.
It is quite time that his gabble about womens’
extravagance should be stopped.

_The idea that men are “played out ” at six-
ty is most absurd and pernicious. At that age a
healthful man is in his finest mental condition.
To all his talents and culture he has added experi-
ence—the safest and surest of all mentors. He is
then most worthy of responsibility—most cap-
able as adviser and manager—most. efiicient as
worker. His temper is toned down, his desire
for bodily pleasures abated, his thought more
concentrated, his habitsfixed and methodical.
To shove the men of sixt aside is equally ri-
diculous and injurious. oung blood for the
field but old men for the council. Where wis-
dom is wanted there the men of ripe age and ex-
perience should be. The son who discredits the
gray hairs of his father is himselfto be dishonor-
ed.

_The Indianapolis Journal intimates, from
such data as it has been able to collect, that the
average of divorce decrees in Indiana is not less
than ten a year to each county, or about a thoa-
sand in the State, which is one to about ei hteen
hundred inhabitants. The proportion o fami-
lies to population, by the census cf187 , was one
to five and a quarter in Indiana. This makes the
proportion of divorce to families to show the
very unpleasant magnitude of one to about three
hundred. But, as very many of the divorced are
only temporary residents of the State—go there,
in fact, only to secure the divorce and then de-
part—it is not fair to charge to Indiana society
the demoralization implied by statistics from its
divorce courts.

_._A gentleman of experience, writing from
Colorado, says, in regard to invalids who seek
that climate: “If it be remembered that Denver
is 5,317 feet above sea level, and that many other
and more pleasant places of resort in the Terri-
tory are at a much greater altitude, it will be
seen that the invalid must exercise extreme care
in approaching so rare an atmosphere. I refer
particularly to persons of weak lungs. Even in
the earliest stages of disease this precaution is
necessary; in the more advanced stages it is im-
perative;:. and in the last stages it should be
frankly owned that speedy death is almost cer-
tain. Far better would it have been for many
who have come hither to die to have breathed
their last in their own homes, surrounded by
such comforts and attended with such kindly
care as friendship and love might bestow.

_The following is a man’s opinion: The fe-
male lip that has been profaned by the touch of
any man, unless it be a relation, ought to lose an
honor and respect. What remains for the hip-
band if the lips—the very outlet of the soul—
have mingled their breath of life with others?
When a lady becomes a prodigal of her kisses we
are instantly forced into one of two conclusions
that either she holds her virtue by a very slen:
dcr thread or that she is incapable of drawing
the nicer distinctions, which is one of the char-
acteristics of spare woman.” To all of which
we say “ Oh, blather!" If a woman’s 1i 3 are
so sacred, pity they should evei' be soilgd by
hash, egg and coufish—pity they should ever
suck soup or munch peanuts. Her lips were
made for various noes, and kissing is not the least
of their offices. Only, the hissing should be
secmly, and graciously given—as a sign of re.
gard and trust. The woman who kisses only her
husband is a starved soul, rest assured.

_Talking about receptions we have it said of
our own Capital society that people who go to
Washington receptions don’t go to honor their
host or hostess. They go to show themselves
to see the show that other people make of them2
selves and to While gayly the time away. Thev
spend hundreds, in some instances thousands 6r
dollars on dresses and jewels and lace for these
evenings at a Capital which, as old William Liv-
ingston said when one of his daughters went to
New York in 1787 to “ shake her heels at a ball,”
u might as well be more studious of paying its
taxes than of instituting expensive diversions.”

—Dr. B. W. Richardson, in his recent admir-
able work on the “ Diseases ofModern Life,” de-
votes a chapter to a subject to which we have
repeatedly alluded, and to which, in view of the
athletic competitions to occur during the Gen.
tennial, the attention not only of those in training
for such contests, but of those who favor athlet-
ic sports in all forms, may well be directed. We
mean disease induced from physical strain, physi-
cal overwork, in short, which too often reduces
the fairest specimens of muscular humanity to
abject wrecks. Dr. Richardson brings to the con-
sideration of this important topic a variety of new
thoughts and suggestions, and these all tend to
show, first, that excessive physical culture is
useless, and, second, that it is hurtful. We can
confirm this by our own observation and inqui-
ries. Of those who have, in young manhood,
exercised severely in the gymnasium, or taken
prizes in the athletic clubs, how many, when
mid-life came, were perfectly sound men? That’s
the test. Avoid all severe exercise as you would
avoid severe bursts of passion, severe drinking.
Nature cannot long stand overdrains on her ener-
gies without showing injury, more or less se-
rious.

—A correspondent from Ohio writes: “Spring
is here and the bumble-bee begins to buzz;
the soft voice of the tree—toad is heard in
the land and the sentimental pollywog disport.
eth.” He might have added : it. is the season of
patent medicines, the lightning-rod man, patent
clothes-lines, book-agents, shcrifi‘s sales and
spoonying at the gate. But, perhaps, the]
don‘t have these things out in Ohio. They do
have moving day, however—which is the next
best thing to a sheriff’s sale, judging by White-
horn's experience. He has been moving and tells
about it, in last week’s paper, in a very tearful
way.

 

 

 

Readers aflontrihutors.

Declined: “Rachel‘s Dream;" “Twice Wooedz"
“T0 3115- A- E- M-;" “Rencunced Inheritance;"
“ Susan‘s Monomania;" “The Harvest posh” “An
Adventure;M “The Burglar-‘3 Mistake,” "Forget
Me Not.“

Accepted: “Transition;” “The Heart Chimp
“L0nglns;" “Pla of Hearts;" “Highest Growth;“
“Transition?” " Loss that w“ a Gum“ um),

Girl’s Romance.”
0. M. E. Send along the query. of course.
Jenn“: Z. No stamps inclosed. Hence the “de-
I"

L. A. B. Gettysburg, Pa., is his present ad-

dress.

FRANKLIN.
name.

C. S. E. Roscoe Conkling’s term as senator ex-
pires in 1879; Morton‘s the same: Blaine is not a
senator.

WEEKLY Exnmucn. We have “re-booked" you.
Thank you for your excellent notice, Exchan e
lists are apt to get too large, and have occasional y
to be trimmed down.

Emu F. The professional “fortune tellers " are
almost without exce tion great humbugs. Your
“bad fortune ” probe ly was all owing to the ab-
sence of the extra fee. A “good fortune” costs
erlru.

SPENCER N. A. The commercial educational
course to be thorough consumes about two years’
time. Would advise you, under the circumstances,
to take the full course, seeing that your father is so
willing.

MISS L. l. The enjoyment of companionship is
always hightened by common objects of s mpathy
and leasure. If your next room frien is con-
genia make the most of circumstances, which ap-
pareutl are not always conducive to your happi-
ness. Waste none of the opportunities that seem
to be vouchsafed you.

P. G. So long as you continue at the work, and
have the oil da'ly flying over your face and hands,
you cannot eradicate the yellow hue from your
skin. Keep the oil from the skin. and it will soon
whiten. Of course any alkali will remove the oil
from the skin and clear the skin tubes. but such
applications, if continued, will injure the skin tex-
ture. We recommend the use of box-ax in tepid
water, or occasionally a wash of water slightly am-
moniated.

MERCY LANE. You are not “bound in honor ” in
the matter. If you don’t like to remain in the so-
ciety or wish to en'oy its privileges you can say so
to its members an refuse to abide by its re ula-
tions. Probably your cousin had an interests mo-
tive in inducing you to sign this ledge. Say noth-
ing about it to others. but do w at in you lies to
keep your relative away from its influence.

No proper address given—no real

ZABRstn’s Box. The tuberose does not flower
with you because the season is too short. Pot the
center bulb about March 15th, and let it s rout well
before putting out in the garden in May; t en you‘ll
have a fine bloom by August 20th. Pluck off every
one of the baby bulbs. It takes a baby bulb or
“ sucker" two years’ growth to become a center or
flowering bulb. .

CONSTANT BlAnln. Some inks cannot be re-
moved from paper by any known recess, without
discoloring or wholly destroyln t 9 paper fabric.
Arnold‘s ink. for instance, is a c emical com ound
that no “ eraser” or neutralizer affects. Or inary
ink, made of nut-galls and logwood (as all common
inks are made), may be wholly eradicated by a solu-
tion of muriatic of tin. viz.: two drachms tin in
four of are water. Apply with camel’s-hair brush;
when t e ink has disappeared pass the paper
through water and dry, an press afterward wit a
hot iron.

MRS. D. E. L. The reci e for dandelion wine you
ask for. we believe, is as ollows: “ Take a quantity
of the flower. boil half an hour, and then strain;
add su ar to the extent of three pounds to a gal-
lon, boxl again twenty minutes with the rind of a
lemonand one orange, then add the juice. When
lukewarm, stir in a small quantity 0 yeast; keep
fillin up, lay something light on it. but do not fas-
ten own till the fermentation ceases." It is a
most admirable spring and summer drink.

CLERK No. 6. To calculate interest at twelve per
cent, multiply sum by number of days, separate
right hand figures and divide by 3: fifteen per cent.
—multiply by number of days and divide by 24;
eighteen per cent—multiply; by days, separate
right hand figures and divide y 2; twenty per cent.
—multi ly by days and divide by 18. As the “ In-
terest ables” used in banks and countin -rooms
do not usually go above ten per cent. in t eir cal-
culations, these rules will be of great assistance to
{onit Cut them out and paste them in your interest

00 .

ALPHA writes: “ For a gentleman to be out walk-
ing, after dark. witha lady, is it necessary for him to
as the lady to take his arm, or should thelad take
it without bein asked? I think the latter is her
privilege, and s 6 should not wait to be asked." If
the lady was an intimate friend she would be per-
fectly justified in takin your arm without any in-
vitation to that effect rom you; in any other case
you should olitely offer her your arm, althou h it
is always a ady's privile e, if her escort is bus ul,
neglectful, or ignorant o the rules of etiquette. to
pleasantly call upon him for that little attention.

W. C. S. writes: “ In No. 295 of the J OURNAL I found
a depiiatory for removing superfious hairs. Will it,
apphed once, be sufficient to remove the hairs for-
ever? Or will they grow a in in time? Is it neces-
sary to pull out the supe ous hairs before apply-
ing the depilatory? Can any part of the face be
prevented from perspiring? Is there anything that
will remove moles without injuring the skin? How
can I become a good letter composer?” As we have
never tried the depilatoq in question we cannot
tell whether one or several applications will be
needed to accomplish the desired result. Hairs
will not grow again if once removed. It is not he.
cessary to pull out the hairs before using the de—
pilatory A paste of fine wood-ashes left to dry on
the skin eats of! the hairs, and is a safe remedy: or
muriatlc acid, very slightiy reduced, applied with a
sable pencil, will destroy superfious hair, and, to
prevent its growing, the part may be often bathed
in strong comphor; or frequent washing with am-
monia, as strong as can be borne, will soon kill the
ugldy hairs. A small quantity of liquid ammonia
a ed to the water in which you bathe will check
too profuse perspiration; or if very troublesome.
bathe the face in cold infusion of rosemary, and
then dust with an impalpable powder made of eight
ounces of starch, two ounces of orris-root, and
one and a quarter drachms ofi camphor. The only
way to remove moles is by faithful and careful ap-
plication of lunar caustic; if properly attended to
they maybe nicely banished. To compose a good
letter, practice the habit of writing as if you were
talking with your friends. Every day write a chatty
letter to some imaginary person—fil ing it with talk
of what you are doing, where you have been, what
you have heard lately, what you are reading. your
opinions upon popular subjects. etc.. and you will
soon be able to write very entertaining letters.

Anni: C. M.. Nyack, asks: “ When laying carpets
what can be done to prevent the depredations of
moths?“ Wash the floors with spirits of turpentine
or benzine before putting down the carpets.

ANNA Sms. Rochester, says: “Please give me
some recipe for removin pimples from the face.
How can I render the ban ssoft and white? I have
a dark complexion, is there anything you can re-
commend to me to render it more blonde-like? Is

the accom anying hair coarse and common or the ‘

reverse? ow are my spelling, writing, grammar,
and punctuation?” Pimple: upon the face are the
sym toms of I. disordered system. If on can
av ‘ yourself of them, there is no reme yin the
world so effectual for correcting a disordered state
of the body and rendering the complexion dazzling-
ly pure, fair. and flawless, as Turkish baths. If these
cannot be taken, tone yourself up with daily baths,
plenty of air and sunshine, and healthy food—
grains, vegetables and fruits. Make I strong solu-
tion of lime and water in a 1 bottle, and each
mo add some to a. goblet of water and drink.
Do not 9 afraid to use catholic soap freely upon
your face. At retiring rub in the skin a. few drops
of this mixture: one ounce of English glycerine and
rose-water,and twenty drops of carbolic acid. In
the morning wash OH with soap and water. Even if
it seems to aggravate the eruptions for a time, it
will cure them and refine the skin if perseveringly
used, The limo wgw, $180, must not be no looted.
If our face is smooth tnd blooming with t e tints
of health you cannot beautify it by seekmg' to make
it “more blonds." the hair is very soft, fine, and
flexible, and at a lovely brown; you should take
exceuent cue of it. To return to (your second ques-
tion; the guns of most fruits an vegetables, rub-
bed we” on the hands, will take of! the stains they
have produced. If acids are used, oil should be
used immediately after. Pumice-stone removes
sum; and roughness. Always when washing the
hands brush the nails well, and at the last make a
labor of the soap and afew drops of sweet almond
oil, or of mixed rose—water and fleetine, and dry
the hands without rinsing off t e lather. Nights
rub well with mixed glycerine and rose-water.
Keep old gloves, to draw on while sweeping and
doing dirty work. Your spelling and writing are

cod, your grammar is fair, but your punctuation
is not quite comet.

w Unanswered questions on handwill appear
next week.

 

 

 

 

.,