CHAPTER VILâ€"(Con'rmonm) “ If he did nothing worse than that. I shank! think no worse of him than you do. His Christie. V But I think that you will allow that a. men who has lived within half a mile of another man for nearly three years must know more of his character than a young innocent girl who has seen him at his best only for 5 month.†“But you cannot judge a. man fairly until {on have seen him continually in his own one. I have seen Mr. Rayner among his family; I have played for him, walked with him, had long walks with him ; and I must surely know him better than you, who have :nly an ordinary outside acquaintance with im.†"No doEbt, Misl dh'riatie, you know him a great deal better than I do. I have never played for him, and I have not found either talks or walks with him particularly de- lightful. But then I dare say he did not try so hard to be agreeable to me as he did #01011.†_ _ at on m golmheaud go. p WhenÂ¥ not there. I fun 7 Mr. Reade drew himzelf up very atiffly. and the color Iuahed to his forehead. He wasgsttinsfeelw mm.- .. He said this in a meeting tone, which brought the hot blood to my face. I tried to answer, but my voice would not come. I turned away sharply, and left him, with an agony of anger and pain at my heart which would have made him remorseful indeed if he could have guessed what his words had inflated. As it was, he. followed me a few steps down the drive, with apologies to which I was too angry and too much but to isten. “Don’t speak to me now,“ I saidâ€"“I can’t bear it ;-" and, turning off rapidly into a aide-path. I left him, and fled away thrpuzh thg alleys in_to tpe hogse. Luckily I managed to keep back tears, so that I could return to the drawing-room with the flowers I had gathered before they Vegan to wonder why I had been so long. Mrs. Rayner told me that the note from Ira. Manners which Mr. Reade had bought was to ask that the articles which we were preparing for the “taleâ€â€"a sort of honor on a small scale which was one of the attractions of the annual school-treatâ€" should be sent in to her within a week, as they had to he ticketed and arranged be- fore the sale- day arrived, and whether Miss Guistie would be so kind as to give her ser- vices at the stall ; and, if so, whether _ehe would call on Mrs. Manners during the next few days to settle what should be her share of the work. I was delighted at the thought of this little excitement, and, al- though Mr. Rayner warned me that I shonld have nothing nicer to do than to see the pretty trifles I had worked ï¬ngered by dirty old women who would not buy them, and to have hot tea poured over me by clumsy children if I helped at the feast, I would not be frightened by she prospect. That evening I debated with - myself whether it was not too damp and swampy still for me to go and peep at my neat and see if the wgter bed subsided and left the top of the bricks dry. I chose afterwards i) think that it was some supernatural in- stinct which led me to decide that I would Wheni got there. I found on the bough which formed my seat a basket of Gloire de Dijon roses, and the stalk of the uppermost one was stuck through a little note. I never doubted those roses were. for me ; I only wondered who had put them there. I looked searchinng around me in all direc- tions before I took up the rose which car- ried the note and carefully slipped it off. It contained these words. ‘ The supernatural agency coald not follow me there, so I slept that night with the note under my pillow. I did not know the writing, but I knew whom it was from. I think, if I had been quite sure that no one could have seen me. I should have raised the not-e to my lips, I was so happy. But, though I could see no one, t‘ie fact of the basket arriving so surely at my secret haunt seemed to argue the ex- istence of a eupematural agency in dealing with which one could not be too discreet; so I only put the note into my pocket and retBi-ned to the hogse with my flowers. _ Tie fact was that I had felt too languid «an to sit down and write, and I had wanted the last two evenings listlesst turn- in:d over the pages of a. book I did not re . “ For Miss Christie, with the sincere apologies of one who would not have offend- ed her for the whole world.†“Yi‘u are getting pale again, my (1531' child," said Mr. Rayner to me the next morningâ€"he met me, at the toot of the stairs, dressed for my walk with Haidee. “ We must ï¬nd some means of bring those most becoming roses back to your cheeks again. You work too hard at those Self-im- poseci evening 1382118, I amiaf‘rgidi’ ‘ “ Oh; no, Edeed 1 don‘t, Mr. Rayner 1 I am getting very lazy ; I haven’t done any- bhiflg f9: two orrghtjee' qiglgtg.’:_ _ I laughed at these promises, looking upon them as the lightest of jests ; but the very next day I met a workman upon the stair- and Mr. Rayner asked me mysteriously at dinner whether I had seen his familiar spirit about, adding that the sgirit wore a paper cap and a. dirty artisan’s suit, and smelt of beer. That spirit pervaded the house for two days. I met him in the garden holdinz very unspiritual converse with J one ; I met him in my room taking the measure of my bedstead ; I met him in the passage carry- ing what looked like thin sheets of tin and rolls of wall-paper, and I heard sounds of heavy boots in the turret above my room. Then I saw no more of him ; but still there were unaccustomed sounds over my head. sounds of footsteps and knocking, and I met sometimes Jane and sometimes Sarah coming out of a door which I had never known unlocked before, but which I now discovered led to a narrow staircase that I guessed was the way to the turret. “ Ah, than you want change of air 1 Now how to give it you without letting you go “Hfâ€"«for we can’t spare you even for a week I You will think me a magician if I prooure you change of air without leaving thin house, won’t you, Miss Christie? Yet I think I can manage it. You must give me a few days to look about for my wand, and they, hey, presto, the thing wle ‘be done l" " 0n the fourth da}, when I went to my room to dress for baa, I found it all die- IN Gï¬LDEN BONBS. CHAPTER VIII. "What doei'rthis mean, Jane? I oa-n’t lleep on the floor ; and what are you domg within); bgokg?†1 criqg on? bljegï¬h. . "I rion't know nothing about it, miss ; it’s Mr. Ibynet’a orders,†said she, with another irrepreoslble nigger at my bewild- ered face. i >- I was turning to the door to wander forth, I did not know exactly whither, to try to ï¬nd an explanation of this most extraordin- ary state of thniga, when Sarah came in. her dark frowning face offering a. strong con- tmtflto that of the laughing Jane. _ mantled, the bed and most of the furniture gone, and little Jane pulling down my books from their shelf and- enjoying my dis- cgmï¬ture with delighted giggles, not at all disconcerted at being caught taking an un- hearï¬ï¬‚of liberty. _ ’ "Mt. Rayner has ordered the room in the turret to beprepered for you,†said she shortly. “Perhepe you will be kind enough to man-go down here till after tea, as W: his ordexs that you shouldn't be shgwn up till _the root}: is quite ready." “Sarah, dun you "tell" me what this means 2†said I. I answered that I could manage very well, and they left the room. I said nothing at tea about my adventure, reflecting that perhaps some surprise for me was htended, which would be sprung upon me at a. ï¬tting time. And no it proved. While I was quietly writing in the sohonlroom, after tea, Mr. and M rs. Rayner and Haidee, who had not yet gone to bed, came in and conducted me in a formal procession up-stairs, u the narrow winding turrent-etalrcase that had so often wanted to explore, and, opening the door of the one room the turret contained, Mr. Rayner. in a short but elaborate speech, begged to instal me without further cere- mony as the “imprisoned princess of the en- chanted tower." I gave a cry of delight. It was an octa- ganal room. the four sides which overlooked the marsh containing each a window, while in one of the other sides was a small ï¬re- place with a bright ï¬re burning; The ear- pet was new, the wallâ€"paper was new ; there were two easyochalrs, one on each side of the ï¬re, a writm -table and a J spanese screen, besides the urniture of my old room. It looked so bright and so pretty that my eyes danced with $68.31!“; at the sight, and I could not spe while Mr. Rayner explained that now I should be high and dry out of the damp, and he expected me to become red-faced and healthy-hooking immediate- lyâ€"that he had had tinfoil put behind the paper in one of the ‘ cupboards which was considered dump, that the picturesque ivy had been torn dov. nâ€"all but a little bit to hide the unsightly chimneyâ€"and that I was to have a ï¬re whenever I liked now, and one every day when it began to grow colder. “ I don’t know what to say. I don't know how to tkank you,†said I, almost pained by the extent of the kindness showered up- onme. ‘1, I tried to include Mrs-.kRa-yner in my thanks; but she hung back almost ungra- ciuusly, and she seemed to have been drawn into this demonstration against her will. She was the last of my three visitors to leave the room, and in the moment that we were alone together, before she followed her husband and child down stairs, she said, seeming to be moved out of her reserve by the unac‘onstomed little excitement, and casting upon Ines keen 1091: from hex; great eWPT‘ ‘ . “flirtâ€. I am noi at all nervoua'; bu} I Was enough impressed by her almost eager manner to angyggr tether‘shylyf ‘ She glanced toward the door, and, say- ing hurriedly, “Oh, no, of course not ! I hope you will be comfortable, Miss Christie," she left the room. Afraid i No, of course I was not afraid ; I never had minded sleeping away from everybody else ; and, if burglars were to break into the Alders, they certainly would not expect to ï¬nd anything worth stealing in the turret. I wished Mrs. Rayner had not put the idea. into my head, though. I was not so strong-minded as to be proof against fear even at second-hand, and ever since the sensation mused by that jewel- robbery in Dcrbyshire I had been very care- ful to hide away my watch, my one bracelet, and my two broohes under my pillow at night. But I was too happy in my new abode to trouble myself long with idle fears. I found that, by opening out my screen in a particular position, I could completely hide the wesh-nand-stend, and make myself a sitting-room ; then I sat down by the ï¬re in one of the arm-chairs and gave myself up to the enjoyment of this new piece of good for- tune ; and I was still gazing into the ï¬re, with my feet cosily warmingâ€"the nights were already cold enough for that to be a luxuryâ€"on a. hassook close to the fender, when I heard Sarah coming up the stairs. I knew her footstep, and]. would rather not have heard what I considered her ill-omen- ed tread on this ï¬rst evening in my new room. For I knew that Sarah disliked me, and even the fact that she had brought me up some coals to replenish my ï¬re, which was getting low, did not reconcile me to her presence ; I could not help thinking of the grudginq manner in which before tea she had announced to me my change of resi- dence. I tried to be friendly, however, and, when I had thanked her tor her trouble. I snidâ€"r “Burglars! What burglars! What are you talking about ?" ' eyelâ€" “L awn j “Are you not afraxd of sleepmg so far from every one} Or do you prgfer it 2†“No, I don't 'pr'efer it. But there is no- thng to_ be strait! of, _i5 ï¬herq?†“I ivonder this nice room has been neglected so long. Has no one ever used it, Sarah ‘2†" Mr. Rayner used to use it for a. study," she said shortly. “I don't know why he gave it up ; I suppose it was too high up. That was six months ago, before you came.†"‘ Why all the company I in likely td'get here is burglars,†I answered lugubrionsly, wig; my chip b_etween my hanfis: The 'atart she gave ~startled me in my turn. "It is a. long way from anybody else’s room. Sarah, Visn’t it 2†“ Mine is the nearest, and I have ears like needles ; so you needn’t be frightened,†said she, in a. tone which really sounded more menacing than congoling. “It {in be rather loneiy on astormy night ; the wind will howl so up here," I said, my spirits beginning to sink under her ehug speeches. ‘ “ Oh,- you won’t want for company, I dare 3311:3116 5331! with a hare}: graying laugh. _ I looked up amazed at the effect at my words on Sarah, whom, of all peo la in the world, I should have considere strong- minded. It was promotion for me to be 3001213133 Syah. u “ Wh , I have more courage than you I" I laid, Â¥a hing lightly. “I'm not afraid of them. f they came, the would soon go down again when the ioun there was no- thigg to (fake. Fog] _you be afraid to sleep ‘But she hardly took the trouble to en- mer me except by a nod; her black eyes were ï¬xed upon me an I ‘lpoke, waif she would, and almost an if [he could, penetrate to my inmost Ioul. Then. as if satisï¬ed with the remit of her scrutiny. she relapsed into her usual hard, cold manner, and, aimwering my good night shortly. left me a one. » up_h'§re_nlqne, _§a.rg.h ?_ Than I made up my mind deï¬nitely on a point that had otten occupied me vaguely, and decided that Mrs. Ra} ner and Sarah were, in difl'erent ways, without exception, the two most unpleasant and diiagreea‘ole women I had ever met. And after that I went to bed and dreamt, not of a burglar, bugof quite a} differeth person. The next day was Suhday, and there were two strangers in church who attracted the attention of all the congregation. They were two fair-complexioned, light-haired girls who eat in the Reades’ pew, and who had evidently e ared no expense on rather taste a and un seeming toilettea. I caught myeel feeling not sorry that they were ill- dressed, and led that one was plain and that the one w 0 was pretty was dreadfully heckled ; and I wondered how it was that I had grown so ill-natured. Mr. Laurence Reade set between them, and he shared his hymn-book with the pretty one ; and I did so wish it had been withthe plain one 1 And when we came out of the church, and he and his two sisters and the two girls troop- ed out together, the breaking up of the group left him to pair off again with the pretty one. I remember noticing. as Haidee and I walked home together, that the midzes teased me more than they had ever done that summer. that the sun was more scorch- ing, and that it was just as dustyas if we End not had any min at all. It was a horrid ay. ’ Mr. Rayner asked us, at dinner, if we had noticed the two girls with the pretty hair in Mr. Reade‘e pew, and said that he had heard that the one with the blue eyes was the future Mrs. Laurence Reade, and that it would be an excellent match for both of them. “ I noticed that he paid. her a. great deal of attention in church, and afterwards they paired off together quite naturally,†said he. - And that aitemcion the heat and the midges and the dust were worse than ever. - Mr. Rayner complained on the day after this that I was looking paler than before, and threatened to have me sent back to my old room if I did not look brighter in two days from that date. Luckily for me, my spirits improved a. little. The next day Haidee and I passed by Geldham Park in our walk, and say over the fence Mr. Reade, his sisters, and the two strangers playing lawn-tennis. None of them noticed us that time; but, as we were returning, I observed that Mr. Reade jumped up from the grass where he was loun ing in the midst of the ad’qring girls, as 1 tï¬Ã©uï¬'ï¬ji 60iijliéfppttmwilyL and shook out of ‘ his hat the léaves mid grasses with which his companions had ï¬lled it; as for them, they were too much occu- piec} with him to see anything outside the Haidee and I had to go the village shop with a list of articles which I felt sure we should not get there. But it was one of Mr. Rayner’s principles to encourage local trade. so welhau to go once a week and tease the crusty and ungrateful old man who was the sole representative of it by demand: for such outlandish things as wax - candles, bloater-paste. and floselle. I had been tap- ping vainly for some minutes on the little counter. on which lay four tallow “dips,†a box of rustycroehet-hooksnand'a most un. hinting piece of bacon, when Mr. Reade dashed into the she , and greeted me with much surprise. hen he had asked after Mr. and Mr. Rayner, andvheard that they were quite well, there was a pause, and he seemed to look to me to continue the con- versation ; but I could think of nothing to say. So he roamed about. dig 'ing his cane into thecheese and knocking own a jar of snufl‘, which he carefully scraped together with his foot and shovelled back, dust and all, into the jar, while I still tapped and still nobo_(_iy came._ Fox-Iknew Mr. Bowlea. So Mr. Reade seated himself on the counter and hat- pooned the bacon with one of the rusty crochet-hooks. ' “Best room in the house? Then Mr. Rayner doesn’t sleep in the house at all,†said he, in a low voice, but with sud- den decision. g I got up from the one chair and turned to my pupil, who was deep in an old story- book sne had found. .“ Coupe. Haidee I†‘«‘ No, no; that is revengeâ€"it is unworthy of 3131,†said he, in a. lower voice still. †HE must; be at dinner,†said I resigned- ly. “ In that case we shall have to wait.†“Convenient places these village-shops,†said he, not thinking oi what he was saying, I was sure. " Yes, if you don’t care what you get, nor how stale _it i_a,â€_ said I sharply. ‘ _ “I came in only for nomeâ€â€"herehe looked round the shop, and. his eyes rested on a pile of dusty toysâ€"“for some marbles. I thought they would do for the school-treat, reg know? . He laughed but I did i161: intend to be fun at all. , h mum: in nnlv fnr lnmaâ€_hprnhn Imknfl “ Last Sunday 2"â€"-and I thought of those girls. “I wa never better in my life, thank on. Add I am quite Well. Mr. and Mrs. ayner have put me into the turret to keep me out of the damp. It was very, very kind of him to think about it. It is the best room in all the rouse.†' I thought it was a pity he did not re- turn to his lawn-tennis and his ï¬ancee if that was the errand he came on, and I was de- termined not to be drawn into another tetra-aith with him, so I turned to leave the shop. But he stopped me. “ (“A nnwlml man’t ha mun}! Innam- nvor “.Old Bowles can’t be much longer over hisbacon,’1'm sure," said be, rather plead- ingly. “I~â€"I wanted to ask you if you ware any better. I thought last Sunday you were looking awfu1_1y ill_._" “Don’t let us quarrel again. Mr. Rayner is an augal. No, no, not that Iâ€â€"â€"for I was turning away again. "He has his faults; but he is as near perfection as a man can be. Then" you are very happy at the Alden; now? “ Yes, thank you.†"And you have no great troubles ?" “ Yes,.1 haveâ€"Sarah." “ Sarah? That in ones of the servants. isn’t it? A gaunt, shrewd looking person? I've often met her on the road to and from Beanonaburgb.†“Yes. She goes out when she likes, I think. She is a. very important person in the household, much more so than Mrs. Ray- ner.†“ 011 I . And she is a. trouble to you 7" “Yes; I’m afraid of her. She doesn’t like me. And whenever I usad to give her letters to post I never got any answer: to them.“ “ Doe: Mr. RAyner like her l†“ Like her? I don't think any one could like Saab. except.“ course, her ‘young man.’ That doesn’t count. But Mr. Rayâ€" ner thinks a great deal of perz’: _ “Of course Tom Parks is prejudiced in her favor.†said I, preferring that. the talk should rqmaip Personal. 0 "Surely it is a compliment to a woman that a young man should be prejudiced in her favor '3†said he, preferring that the talk should become abstract. I was sorry to ï¬nd that he had several of the things I wanted, as everything he sold was of the worst possible quality ; and, while he was doing them up, Mr. Brande found an opportunity to whisperâ€" “Yon got my flowers ‘1" “ Yes, thank you ; it was very kind of you to send then}_.†“So the “young man’s liking doesn’t count?" l 7“ Bring them,â€corrected be, "What did yap do wit_h thgg?" n _ ‘ ' I remembered the fair-haired girl and my resolve to be discreet“ ’ “ He must have ï¬nished by this time l†I cried ; and a vigorous thump on the counter did at last bring in Mr. Bowles, who de- clared it was the ï¬rst sound he had heard. “I at them in water, and when they were ead I threw them away.†“ Threw them away '1†“Yea. Of course; one dossn’t keep dead flowers," said I calmly; but it hurt me to say so, for the words seemed to hurt him. It is flary hard to be digcreet. ‘ ‘ _ He said no more, but took his parcel and left the shop. saluting me very coldly. I had taken up my parcel, and was going out too, when Haidéo’s soft. vqiqe broke: in. " You’ve got Mr. Reade’s marbles, and he has (zone off with mammaï¬s wool and curtain-hooks, Miss Christie.†I had not noticed this. “ How stupid of him I†I exclaimed. He had matched 05 an fast that I had to run down the lane after Mm before he heard me call “Mr. Reade l†We laughed a. little at the embarrassment he would have fall: if he had produced a ball of wool and curtain- hooka us the result of the morning’s shop- ping, and I if I had gravely presented Mrs. Rayner with a. bag of marbles. And then, remorseful and blushing, I said hurriedlyâ€" “I did keep one of the roses, Mr. Reade â€"the one with the note on it ;" and then I ranbaok to Haidee, without looking up. Whether he was engg ed or 1:91;, I could n'ot Newt-mam? :ib‘bu "those ï¬tï¬efy’ How: are. Then Haidee and I went home to dinner. I had met Mr. Reade quite by accident, and I had done nothing wrong, nothing but what civility demanded, in exchanging a. few words with him ; but I was glad Haidee was not one of thoae foolish prattling little girls who insist; upon chattering at meal- times about all the small events of the morning walk. 'Xhe Living Skeleton Ready to Yield m- Body to the Cause or Science. Issac S. Sprague, the livingskeleton, who is 40 years old, and has been reduced by atrophy to fortypounds weight,seid to a cor- respondent, in regard to a. rumour that he had given his body, in the interests of sci- ence, to the Harvard Medical College: "Yes, the story is true, and all the arrange- ments have just been completed. I have agreed that when I die they shall have my body ; they will ï¬rst out it open and make a. post mortem examination to ï¬nd out, if pos- sible, why I am so thin ; then they will put the body in alcohol and place it in the mu- seum of the college, where it will remain, but I’m going to need it myself for the pres- ent ; they can't have it till I get through with it. My body will be preserved in the museum themes that of Calvin Edson is in the Albany museum. Edson died at the age of forty-ï¬ve, weighing only forty- tive pounds. The doctors, when they cut him 0 n, found that his thinness was cans by narrowing cf the thoracic duct, a trouble with which other members of his family were aï¬'ected. His fees and neck were emaciated like the rest of his body, but mine are not, so my thinness is probably due to something else. The phy. sicians pronounce it to be an extreme case of progressive muscular atrophy. It has been going on for thirty years, while the longest other case on record is that of a. man who died after having the complaint for ten y‘ears.â€â€"-Albany Argus. “Mom†The Freak of a Birmingham Chimney Sweep. _ Recently a. strange scene In one of the principal Birmingham thoroughfares was the subject of mu isterial proceedings. A eweep named Ches 're ran up a ladder on to the roof of a. gentleman’s house, and, tor the ediï¬cation of a large crowd, stood upon his head on the top of a chimney pot, at the same time performing with his legs a variety of fantastical movements. The chimney collapsed and fell into the street, doing damage to the extent of a sovereign, and causing several persons to have narrow escaped from injury, while the adventurous performer of the freak rolled into the water- epout, and had a narrow escape from what must have been instant death. Ultimately he was rescued through a skylight in the roof. The prisoner said be supposed he had been playing the £001. The Clerkâ€"And you will have to pay for it. Cheshire was ï¬ned 53., and 203. damagesâ€"London Telegmph, 9n WASTING AWAY. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Were man to exarcise the same judgment in reference to their own food that they do in feeding domestic animals, there would be less illness on account of diet. For a mat- ter of such universal importance it has b8 p tb‘isubjecï¬ 9f many absurd ï¬hqqrigst The {vorld seems to be divided betweï¬l those who "eat to live " and those ivho †live to eat.†The proper line may be drawn somewhere between these extremea There is little to choose betvteen a glutton and one who eats too little from n. senti- mental notion that it is vulgar to eat ; and that the less one can eat, and still manage to live,the more reï¬ned and spiritual one be‘ comes. If a man has no control over his ep- petite, and no judgment as to the quantity of food he requires, it would have been better had he belonged to a lower order of animus. subject to the cantrol of a. higher intelligence. Neglect or refusal to partake of euflicicnt food to sustain the body in its full vigor should be regarded as evidence of disease, requiring the attention of a com- petent physician. Nature will not patiently submit to be abused or cheated. The quantity and the quality of food re- quired in each individual case depends on tho size and health oi the permm and on his occupation. A person of sedentary habits should regulate the die: to the rcquirementn of the system, remembering that it is safer to err on the aide of eating hardly enough than too much. Over-eating produces ao- cumulations of fat, which is a disease of ib- aelf, and increases the quantity of blood, rendering one liable to heart disease and apoplexy ; and paradbxical as it my men, insuï¬cient food tends to produce the same disease. Either condition muses derange- mentan the circulation that may induce the same troubles. ILIU “WU IllUuUJUB- I; If we follow the indications of nature we are safe as to foods. What the appaï¬te craves is usually best for us ; the Itomaoh notiï¬es us when we require food and when we have eaten enough. It is often the last mouthful that invites an and; of dymewiaa “ Variety is the spice of Life.†’In nothing is this more applicable than as to food!) Se- lect a list of foods that experience hue taughï¬ us are most acceptable. and then from the list yet a. variety for each day of the Week.’ Salt meat should be used sparingly, because they are more indigestible than Ireeh. Pics and rich puddings try the digestive organs severely. and cannot be safely indulged in by adults, except they have vi orone out- door exercise. The quantity an quality of food ehould depend upon what is required of the individual ; just; M the amoimt of fuel requisite depends on the work u steam engine .1135 to peform. _ _ ’ _ The feï¬lote cause of a majority of our ordinary ailments is taking cola ; the~ natur- al functions 'of the body are retarded,:and waste material is retained in the system long enough to do mischief. \The usual remedy i to take a cathartic or élax‘miive in order to remove it. But a. more canVeni- ent and a, more more natural plan, inordin- ary cases, is to out off the food supply for twenty-four hours, and to trust to nature to do the rest. Instead of food, a, few‘ tea.- spoonsfnl' of hot water dunk dhflhg, the day will hasten the desired' rehult magmaflthghbowelahacam @mtipagad there is an uncomfortable eeling in the there' ' an uncomfortable {Belng ï¬'ï¬he system, often accompanied by restfulness and anxiety of mind. The above sugges- tions, if folkowed strictly. will bring , ' ief more promptly than medicine, and “ï¬at its inconveniences. , . ‘ nun luvuuvcusvuvcn. r .1 ‘ On the other hand, there is a large\‘&}§s cf persons who are borne down by constant 'fear of eating too much, and who are ever anxious least what they are compelled to eat in order to sustain life may do mischief. It would not be inepprOpriete to speak of such people as “dietetic cranks." They are probably the most unreasonable and troublesome patients the oracticing physi- cian has to deal with. If he favors their theories, there can be no improvement, and if he opposes them he loses their conï¬dence and their patronage. There is as much ill health caused by underfeeding as by over- feeding. The man who has lived too freely may generally moderate his course and re- gain his health; but through a. long course of send-starvation the digestive organs be- came weakened, and the stomach con- tracts so that it cannot properly perform its work; the body cannov be sufliziently nourished. These abnormal conditions generally result from mismanagement dnro ing childhood. The child who is restricted to three mï¬ls a. day comes to the table with a ravenous appetite, and with the vertainty that a. long fast awaits him after he has ï¬nished his repeat. These two incentives naturally__lead_to glnttony. A wise regï¬lation of the food supply can be made to supersede the use of m’edxcines to-g‘very good extent. According to the Cincinnatti Price Cur- rent, the number of hogs packed for the summer season, ending November 1, was 3.- 770.000, against 3,210,000 last year, or an increase or about seventeen and a half per cent. Besides this there has'been a. large increase in the average weight of ho s marketed, the exact returns of which ix A not yet available, but a close approximaM‘ makes the average increase about eighfxb‘n and a half pounds per hog. 0n tliia basis, the hogs packedin the West aince‘M net: 1, have aggregated 905.000. 000 pounds gross. compared with 710,872, 000 pounds last year; or an increase of over twenty-seven per cent. The average wei ht of hogs received in Chicago during Octo r was 250 pounds, against 235 pounds for the corms onding zlgonth last year, and 242 pounds in 8Jtober, 1 81. The child who is permitted to eat what- ever it wishes. at all times. becomes the victim of diseue, because an unnatural ap- petite is formed, and it craves those things that derange the digestive organs, but con- tain but little nourishment. No child [was ever injured by plain and wholesome food, no matter how freely or how often it may have been partaken of. When :1. child is a year old it should be allowed a. pretty wide discretion as to foods of this sort. Three meals a day are not sufï¬cient for children. All the operations of the system are more active than with the adult, and the food 311 ply requires more frequent replenishing. AlYow children to eat of plain, wholesome food, as often as they desire to, if you wish to escape respensibiliy for impaired health, which is certain to follow a. strict sherence to absurd rules respecting diet. Philosophy of Eating. The Hog Crop.