A REPORT from Health Officer D. F. Ragan, M. D., of San Francisco, covering the months of January, February, and a portion of March, has been filed, and in order that the many readers of the SIGNS OF THE TIMES may see more clearly the dangers lurking in flesh food, I give in this article a few facts and figures from the doctor's report.
In the month of January there were 78,399 dressed carcasses, and 91,835 turkeys and chickens inspected, from which the inspectors condemned 3,090 pounds of beef, 409 calves, 233 sheep, 315 chickens, 1,290 pounds of game, 9 lambs, and 13 hogs.
In February they inspected 89,701 dressed carcasses, and 113,975 chickens and turkeys, from which they condemned as unfit for food and a menace to the lives of the consumers, 8,330 pounds of beef, 1,684 chickens, 334 calves, 104 sheep, 2 lambs; 6 hogs, 64 wild game, and 9,660 pounds of fish; 16,303 gallons of milk were inspected, some of which proved to be so impure that five men were arrested and $100 collected as fines; eight cows were quarantined and five cows killed.
During the month of January there were 726 deaths and 490 births, 236 deaths more than births. In February there were 653 deaths and 476 births, 177 more deaths than births. From March 1 to 28 there were 534 deaths and 404 births, 130 more deaths than births.
What greater evidence should thinking men and women require to convince them that there is something fearfully wrong somewhere? Have the diseases, so frequently found in flesh food, anything to do with the death-rate of to-day? It looks as if we had reached the time spoken of by the prophet Hosea, in chapter 4:1-3: "Hear the word of the Lord, ye children of Israel; for the Lord hath a controversy with the inhabitants of the land, because there is no truth, nor mercy, nor knowledge of God in the land. By swearing, and lying, and killing, and stealing, and committing adultery, they break out, and blood toucheth blood. Therefore shall the land mourn, and every one that dwelleth therein shall languish. With the beasts of the field, and with the fowls of heaven; yea, the fishes of the sea also shall be taken away."
The death-rate in San Francisco for the last three months has increased far beyond the births, so if this condition continues, it must be apparent to every sane person that this city, in order to hold to its present size, must depend on those coming from the outside.
Crime of every description is greatly on the increase. Stealing is resorted to by those financially distressed, as well as by the strong-monied trusts. We have seen so much of it of late that we expect it now. Compare the crimes of to-day with those mentioned in the above scripture, and see if we can not expect at this time an increase of disease in the whole animal family, owing to the wickedness of the human family.
CHARGES AGAINST THE REFORM BUREAU.
By Editor
At last the International Reform Bureau at Washington has met a practical opposition to its methods of procedure. Major Duncan B. Harrison has brought charges before the House Judiciary Committee against the Bureau, of which Rev. Wilbur F. Crafts is chief, together with other associations that affiliate more or less, of illegally using congressmen's franked envelopes for other than official business. We have often wondered how they could be allowed such an extensive use of this official privilege for private work, but supposed there was some way by which the law could be evaded. The bureau has for years been sending out its matter at government expense. Some good measures have been advocated, especially in the temperance line, but that does not excuse illegal methods.
But the ultimate purpose of the Reform Bureau is religious legislation, and these other measures are simply stepping-stones to sufficient influence to eventually carry that point. It is well that the illegal use of the franking privilege is being looked after by somebody. It is a dangerous abuse of congressional prerogative. It is worthy of note also that the chief manipulator of this fraud upon the governmental postal revenues is also prominent in endeavoring to have certain legitimate libraries shut off from periodical postage rates, while himself sending one or more that are of a doubtful class.
Another charge that Major Harrison brings against the Reform Bureau is that of fraud in continually assuming to represent 27,000,000 Christians—practically all the professed Christians in the country—in all of their petitions to Congress. We know this fraudulent representative petition scheme has been in vogue for many years. It has been several times exposed, but it still goes on, and its manipulators have boasted that it frightens a goodly number of congressmen.
FRANCE AND THE POPE.
Trouble has been brewing for some time between the Vatican and the French Government. Legislation in France has been striking heavy blows at the most cherished institutions of the Papacy in that country. The congregations were dissolved, and have found it necessary to take up residence in other countries in order to carry out their work. Then the "religious" who remained were forbidden to teach, and their schools were closed. This was a very bitter draught for the Vatican; but all protests were in vain; and to the astonishment of outsiders who predicted the overthrow of the present government because of its attitude toward the Catholic clericals, the present government seems as strong as ever.
Because of these conditions, it was broadly hinted that when the French president should visit Italy, the pope would not receive him. The president's supporters replied that he had no intention of visiting the Vatican when he should visit the king of Italy. And yet King Edward and Emperor William, both rulers of countries Protestant in name, visited both the Quirinal and the Vatican.
The fact that there is an open breach between Catholic France and the head of the Catholic religion was emphasized by a recent despatch from Rome, from which we quote:—
The Vatican has declared an "open war" against the French Government. While Pius X.'s predecessors sacrificed everything in their efforts to preserve the concordat of 1800, which provides for the material needs of the church in France, Pius X. has come to the conclusion that, after all, the concordat is only an obstacle to the free and untrammeled exercise of religious rights by the French clergy, and has decided to raise his voice in solemn protest against the action of French legislators regarding religious orders and bishops of the church.
The pope's address to cardinals on the eve of the feast of St. Joseph, in which he severely condemned the action of the French Government, was a premeditated effort to change the policy of silent submission which has been followed for so many years in the face of the hostile attitude of the French Government.
It is generally believed that Pius X. will persist in his criticism of the French Government until the fall of the now tottering Combes ministry shall render it possible that some of the laws against religious orders and religious education shall be repealed.
Every opportunity will be taken to accentuate the papal displeasure, even if, as is expected, the French Government should decide to suppress the French embassy in Rome, and to abolish the concordat.
Just now the Combes ministry does not seem to be tottering to any dangerous degree. At the same time the influence of the Papacy in the affairs of other nations is on the increase. France, tired of papal domination, is seeking to throw it off; and her very attitude in that regard should teach the other nations the folly of their course in pandering to that power. But they are not learning the lesson; and when, finally, they have all bowed to her sway, France, too, will be compelled to yield. It is so written in the Book of books.
A Christian Liquor Saloon
By Editor
The April Number of the "Cosmopolitan" has several articles of timely interest, among which are: "If Europe Should Go to War," by John Brisben Walker; "At the Court of a Twentieth-century Mikado," by Edwin Wildman; "Russian Army Types," and others. All these are illustrated. The editor discusses the "Postal Parcels Delivery" question, and shows that one cent a pound is a profitable rate for the United States Government, as shown by the fact that the express companies carry much cheaper at a profit. The article is conclusive that there ought to be great reforms in our postal laws and regulations.
A "Christian" Saloon! What Next? — The Literary Digest, of April 2, tells us that "a 'Christian liquor saloon' has been established in Raleigh, N. C., and is being run by church-members with good results. The prime workers in this enterprise are members of the Tabernacle Baptist Church and of the Raleigh Anti-Saloon League." We do not know what language to use to characterize such action as this. It is true that many of the saloons are in existence by the action or sufferance or indifference of "Christian" citizens or voters, and this Baptist Church may count the step which they have taken logical. But in the political prohibition contests there are nearly always other things involved in voting for prohibition which are questionable, and, right or wrong, the church population, with some show of reason, has some excuse, and the world votes the saloon in existence; and the saloon itself is often conducted by some "Christian" Roman Catholic. All this has gone on for years; but the Protestant churches as churches have almost invariably set themselves against the liquor traffic. But this action in Raleigh, N. C., is horrible. To think of a professed church of Jesus Christ, which ought to be dispensing to the poor thirsty, dying souls the refreshing, cool snow waters of Lebanon, the waters of life in Christ Jesus, pouring out the poisoned potions which damn soul and body, herself a minister of sorrow and woe and misery and death. Did this church ever read, "Wo unto him that giveth his neighbor drink"? or has the greed of gold blinded the mind and hardened the heart? That church by its action justifies saloon-keeping in the minds of all who follow her. She will reap the "results" by and by, and as is the seed so will be the crop. Gal. 6:7.
SLAUGHTER OF THE INNOCENTS.
By Editor
A CORRESPONDENT sends us an article of some length under the above caption, showing the fearful death-rate among the children of Berlin and New York, from which we condense the following:—
The mortuary statistics of the city of Berlin show that among the wealthy aristocracy the death-rate of children under five years is 57 per thousand, while among the poor it is 357 per thousand. This would imply that among the poor three children out of every ten die for no other reason than that their parents are poor.
What a commentary upon our vaunted material progress! Our boasted twentieth-century civilization out-Herods Herod, for it kills 30 per cent of all poor children under five years of age, while that cruel king murdered only 50 per cent of the children under two.
In New York City 15,000 infants die annually for want of fresh air. Yet there are in the United States 1,700,000,000 acres of unused land, or more than enough to give an acre of breathing space to every human being on the face of the earth.
There is no doubt that in the crowded tenement districts of the large cities thousands of poor children are gasping their lives away in that sad process of air starvation. It is also a fact that the larger those cities grow the more that sorrowful condition will be seen, and the larger will be the host of the pale-faced, stricken children who have to pay the cost with their little lives.
Our correspondent lays the blame for the condition upon the faulty law of distribution, which permits men to become possessors of the soil, and of great quantities of it. But the fault lies deeper than that. It is in the hearts of men. As long as unregenerated men continue in this world, they will continue to have the same ambitious plans, the same greed for self-aggrandizement and for gold, with the same lack of regard for the rights or the sufferings of others. The supremacy of a new political party will not change the hearts of men.
Of course it would be better if every family had its plot of land with the blessings of sunlight and pure air; but the tendencies of the times are not in that direction. The great mass of the cities' teeming hosts do not want to move to the country. They are leaving the rural communities and crowding into these very cities, with their foul odors, their dusty streets, their disease-breeding tenements, their lack of sun, and their poverty of good air. Why are they doing it?—For no other reason than that they choose to do so. Considerations of health are secondary. They hope to be able to make more money in the city than they are making in the country. They think they see brighter prospects in the city. They want to be where the crowd is, and many are being drawn by the "attractions," and some even by the opportunities for wickedness.
The spirit of immigration toward the cities is responsible for more of the premature deaths than is the faulty law of distribution; and to purge hearts of that greed which brings about this sad condition is a greater work than to inaugurate a Henry George, Campaign of ever so great magnitude.
Prophecy Fulfilled in Macedonia
History records the fulfilment of prophecy, but the writers of it are not always aware of the fact. During the recent Macedonian revolt, a press despatch from Rome said:—
The horrors committed by the Turks all over Macedonia did not escape the attention of Pius IX., who sent, through the archbishop of Phillippopolis, a contribution of $1,000 to alleviate their sufferings. The Macedonia refugees were so grateful for the gift that a great movement toward the Roman Catholic Church has started among the Bulgarians, who are encouraged by their central committee to embrace the Catholic faith in order to escape the persecutions of the Turks. It has become known that Pius X. has instructed Mgr. Bonetti, the apostolic delegate at Constantinople, to ask the sultan for protection for all the Catholics of the empire, and that the sultan, fearing the great power of the pope among Catholic nations, has readily promised to see personally that no harm shall come to any of his Catholic subjects through the barbarity and cruelty of the Turkish soldiers. Pius X. is gradually extending his interest as head of the church all over the world.
And he might have added that, in fulfilment of prophecy, the pope is extending his influence all over the world. See Rev. 13:1-9.
Patriotism Perverted.
By Editor
Principal J. A. Kingsbury, of the Georgetown, Wash., public school, at a recent county convention, is reported to have assailed the manner of teaching patriotism now in vogue in the public schools of the country. We take the following excerpt from his speech:—
You notice that throughout these teachings runs the military idea, and when a war is on, whether it be an inhuman war of conquest or a war to quell a rebellion, . . . then the watchword of patriotism is: "My country, my country, right or wrong"—that flabby plea that the patriot in time of war must postpone virtue, and, if evil be officially decreed, follow the multitude to do it.
Explosion on the Missouri
The American battle-ship Missouri was greatly damaged by an explosion in one of the large gun turrets on April 13. The vessel was at target practise off the coast of Florida, when in some unaccountable manner the powder charges in the turret and in the handling room below were ignited. A terrible explosion followed, killing 32 of the members of the crew and severely damaging the ship. The destruction of the whole ship was narrowly averted. At the first explosion one of the sailors sprang into the magazine and closed the door. The magazine was at once flooded, and the sailor was nearly drowned when the door was finally opened. The primary cause of the disaster lies in the efforts of the various vessels and gun crews to make a record for fast and accurate firing. Charges are rammed into the guns before the flames of the first discharge have subsided.
WAR IN THE ORIENT.
ASIDE from some skirmishing between outposts on the Yalu, no land actions have been reported during the week. One report of a serious engagement, in which the Japanese suffered great loss, was soon denied, and evidently was untrue.
On the water the Russians have again suffered severely. On the night of April 12 Japanese torpedo boats went into the outer harbor of Port Arthur and laid a number of contact mines. In the morning a portion of the Japanese fleet appeared and the Russians went out to give battle. Soon the Japanese fleet was heavily re-enforced, and the Russian vessels steamed back toward the harbor to be under the protection of the guns of the forts; but in doing so the battle-ship Petropavlovsk came in contact with one of the Japanese mines and was completely destroyed, going down with about seven hundred men. Vice-Admiral Makaroff, who had recently gone to the Orient and assumed command of the fleet, and upon whom the Russians had placed their highest hopes, went down with the ship. It is reported that all of Admiral Makaroff's staff perished with him. The battle-ship Pobieda also touched a mine, and was seriously damaged, but was able to make port under her own steam. One of the Russian torpedo-boat destroyers was cut off from the rest of the fleet, surrounded by the Japanese, and was sunk in a few minutes, 45 of her crew going down with her. While maneuvering in the inner harbor, the cruiser Poltava had a large hole made in her side by coming in collision with the Sevastopol. A cloud of gloom has spread over Russia on account of these repeated disasters. It is reported that the Japanese are beginning to invest Port Arthur by land.
News of the Week
The British expedition to Tibet has had another encounter with the forces of the Tibetans, in which the latter are said to have lost about two hundred. The expedition continues to push on toward Lhasa. Parliament, by a vote of 270 to 61, has sanctioned the use of native Indian troops in Tibet, and Secretary Broderick announced to the House of Commons that the purpose of the expedition was to prevent the Tibetans from opening up relations with Russia, which they were attempting to do, and to make Great Britain predominant in that country. This move is without doubt the first move toward the establishment of a protectorate over Tibet, which, in the end, will lead to sovereignty.
Congress has spent much time during the past week over the matter of the post-office scandals, and there has been much talk of appointing an investigating committee, but so far no definite action has been taken. An amendment was made to the Post-office Appropriation Bill, providing for the appointment of a committee of investigation; but the amendment was ruled out of order.
The leading surgeons of New York declare that cancer is the most prevalent disease in the United States to-day. They also state that this dread malady is rapidly increasing all over the world, and that they are still utterly in the dark as to its cause and cure. In the last twenty-four years, as shown by statistics, it has doubled in prevalence in the United States, and is still increasing.
The floods of the previous week in the central states have been followed by floods across the border in Canada. Flood waters were running through the main street of Winnepeg on April 11, doing much damage. One of the great steel bridges of the Canadian Pacific was broken by the flood, and a portion of it swept away, delaying traffic for several days.
The House passed the Philippine Bill on April 14, in spite of the vigorous protests of the opposition. It was claimed that many who voted for the bill were not in favor of it. Its opponents declare that the bill is one for exploitation of the Filipinos.
The great Russian painter, Vassili Verestchagin, who became famous by his paintings of realistic battle scenes, is reported to have lost his life in the destruction of the Russian battle-ship Petropavlovsk, at Port Arthur, on April 13.
Advices from Chili state that the bubonic plague is spreading to an alarming extent along the west coast of South America. It is prevalent in shipping ports, which increases the danger of its spreading to other countries.
Andrew Carnegie has created a fund of $5,000,000 for the benefit of the dependents of those losing their lives in heroic effort to save their fellow men, or for the heroes themselves if injured only.
The German forces in South Africa continue to battle with the revolted Hereros. Tho they are punishing the blacks severely, they are also being heavily in officers and men.
SUNSHINE IN THE HOME.
By Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle
“Catch the sunshine; see it flicker
Through the dark and dismal cloud.”
THE words rang out cheerily enough, tho there was a suggestion of tears in the last line.
Mrs. Mason walked to the window and glanced out in the gray twilight. It had been one of those dreary, chilly spring days, when old winter seems determined never to submit to being driven from his icy fortress by his mild-eyed brother. It had been a dreary day indoors as well as out, and it had taken all of Mrs. Mason's resolution to keep cheerful. We have all experienced those days when everything goes wrong, from the rising of the sun until the going down of the same. The breakfast is either burned or undone. The wood is wet, and the fire goes out in the grate, and there are so many little things—trifles, if you please—but it is their unusual number which is so exasperating.
Mrs. Mason had felt nervous and irritable all day; but she was a brave little woman, and that morning her eye had caught the title of a poem in the morning paper. She had no time to read it, but the title somehow had stayed in her memory all day, and it had helped her wonderfully. It was, “Smile, Woman, Smile!” At first Mrs. Mason had felt a sort of resentment. “Smile! I should think as much! I’d like to know how I am going to smile when I feel more like crying! Here it is school-time, and the children not ready yet; Jack has torn his coat, and Willie can’t find his slate; grandma has a bad headache, and can’t come out to her breakfast; the bread refuses to rise, and I’m just sure it’s going to be sour; and, to cap the climax, the stove has gone on a strike and is smoking dreadfully, and—O dear! here comes Mrs. Jackson!” and the little woman could scarcely keep back the tears which came to her eyes as she stepped to the door. Now Mrs. Jackson was one of those women who never seem to know what it is to be in a hurry, and whose favorite time for calling on her neighbors is in the morning. But, in spite of herself, Mrs. Mason could not forget those words; they seemed almost like a message from above: “Smile, Woman, Smile!”
“I believe the Lord meant those words for me, for He says, ‘In everything give thanks;’ and now I am determined to try to bring a little sunshine into this house, even if I don’t feel like it;” and with the resolution came a quick prayer for grace and strength,—voiceless, indeed, but none the less a prayer, which winged its way like a flash of light to the loving Father who “knoweth our frame.” So, when at last Mrs. Jackson arose to go, after an unusually long stay, she declared that she felt ever so much better and more cheerful than when she came, and wished she never had any more to trouble her than Mrs. Mason had!
But Mrs. Mason had gained a real victory, and, conscious of it, she went from grace to grace all day.
The trials were none the less. The bread was sour, as she had feared; grandma was worse as the day advanced; the baby was fretful; the stove smoked worse than ever; the potatoes for dinner were burned,—but the dear little woman smiled on.
“It’s awful lonesome outdoors,” declared little Jack, “but mama’s face looks just like the sunshine.”
The afternoon was filled with exasperating, nerve-wearing failures, as had been the morning, but the smile never faded from Mrs. Mason’s face; and the sweet song about the sunshine echoed through the rooms.
“You have been a great comfort to me all day, dear, for I was very lonely in the morning,” smiled grandpa at the supper table. “I love my mama,” declared little Harry, “'cause she looks just as sweet, and her voice sounds like the birds!”
“Mama has been making sunshine all day,” declared Mr. Mason, smiling archly at the little woman; and he continued, “the business cares of the day have been very wearing, my dear, and I should have been quite discouraged had it not been for your sweet, smiling face.”
Then the little woman only smiled the more brightly, as she declared, “When it’s gloomy outdoors, we only need the more sunshine within.”
My sisters, the experience of Mrs. Mason may be ours. We all know what it is to be wearied with the monotonous duties of the day, until it seems only another name for drudgery. But O, when we feel like frowning, let us smile instead! When we feel like crying, let us sing. Maybe the voice will tremble, but “God will love us the better.” “He knoweth our frame; He remembereth that we are dust,” are not idle, meaningless words,—they are the pledges of the Almighty.
We have seen people who act as if it were sinful to smile. Among my early acquaintances there was a young girl who possessed an almost perfect face—complexion, contour, features,—all as faultless as those of a model, yet, despite all that kind nature had done for her, she was anything but beautiful or attractive. The secret was simply this: She rarely smiled, and her face wore the habitual frown of morose discontent, which is of itself enough to ruin the face and features of any one.
“But,” some one says, “it detracts from my dignity to simper.” I do not ask you to simper. I ask you to smile. If you don't know how, you would better practise until you do. Away with such false notions of dignity!
I know a dear old lady, whose hair is white as snow, and her form is bent with the burden of years. Her eyes are no longer bright, and I am sure she never dreams that she is beautiful. But I tell you, she is positively lovely,—she is more, she is bewitching. If you do not believe me, go with me to visit her some day, and see her smile, and hear her hearty, genial laugh; it will do you good. If you are in sorrow or trouble, her soft voice is full of sympathy, and her dim eyes with tears; for she has learned to “rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep.”
O, the poor old world is hungry for smiles and innocent, hearty laughter! If you were to ask me for a certain panacea for almost all the ills to which flesh is heir, I would answer unhesitatingly, “Smiles and laughter.”
Do you remember, in “Pilgrim’s Progress,” how the old Giant Despair fell down in a fit because the sun shone? A good, hearty laugh will cure the worst case of the blues which Satan ever sent with which to torture and torment poor humanity. Did you ever notice that, when you feel sad and discouraged, your eyelids droop and you look down? O my brother, my sister; look up! look up! speak a good, hearty, “God bless you,” once in a while, and don’t be so chary of your smiles,—don’t!
Then, young woman, if you would be beautiful, smile—don’t smirk; don’t be silly, but do be cheerful. Cultivate sunshine in your heart and in your home.
Old people—yes, I must speak a word to you. Was it a great shock to you when the young folks began to call you “grandma” and “grandpa”? Never mind; there is no use in resenting it. We may be old, but that is no reason why we should be cross and gloomy. Smile; the rheumatism is painful, and the heart aches for the days and the friends of yore; but if you lift up your head and smile in spite of it all, you are a true hero, or heroine.
Remember the words of the wise man: “A merry heart doeth good like a medicine.”
THE QUALITY OF MERCY.
THE best he could hope for was dismissal. To be allowed to go out of the office alone, disgraced, branded—this would be a mercy and forbearance. What limited another's fears was his hope; and then he had the dock in prospect, the curt and irritable magistrate, the penalty of embezzlement, the unending shame of the jail. Or perhaps the First Offenders' Act would return him to the hardened faces and condemning eyes of his world, a marked man, an offense against his class, a traitor to his family and friends.
Waiting in the anteroom till the senior partner should be ready for him, George Hanbury clenched his fists till the palms bled under his nails. He was ready to face his doom, to take what he had earned, if he could but have taken it alone. Since the discovery of his defalcations had become inevitable, and during the awful two days that had elapsed since the discovery itself had taken place, he had realized, blindingly, vividly, the responsibility for the happiness of others which depends upon every man. His father, his mother, his brothers and sisters! This struck at them all; this was aimed at their home, at the completeness of their lives, and the root of their self-respect and happiness. His head swam as the picture of their misery, when the news should reach them, took shape in his mind.
Alone he could have borne it. He had himself in a tight hold. Two days before the manager had sent for him, and he found him with certain books open on his desk.
"Can you explain this?" the manager had asked, pointing to a page.
Hanbury looked, and knew at once that the blow had fallen.
"No, sir," he answered, quietly.
"Nothing to say?" queried the manager, closing the volume.
"Nothing at all," was the quiet answer.
"Very well," said the other. "Mr. Burns will have to hear of this. Go back to your work."
Then elapsed two days of terrible punishment. His fellows among the clerks knew nothing, and it cost a strong effort to keep a calm face in their midst and so escape remark. He was awaiting sentence from Mr. Burns, who came down to the office only occasionally, and whose very remoteness from the daily life of the business seemed to Hanbury to add another terror to his position.
The door of the inner office clicked, and the manager came out. Hanbury rose to his feet, biting his lips. The manager looked at him gravely.
"Go in," he said.
Hanbury entered. Old William Burns was sitting at a table. He was an old man, white-haired, with a chin and cheek hidden in a fluff of white beard. Keen gray eyes looked out from under heavy brows; his face bespoke strength and resolution, but there was nothing of a harshness in it. It was very grave now, but there was nothing hard nor vindictive.
They looked at one another in silence for a moment, the strong old man who had succeeded, and the young man who had failed.
"I have been hearing details of an embezzlement which you have committed," said the old man, slowly. There was a country burr in his voice; Hanbury noted it with an odd sense of having expected it. "I understand you make no defense?"
Hanbury found his voice with an effort. "None, sir," he answered.
"And you know what you have incurred by this crime?"
Hanbury nodded, gulping.
"Very well," said the senior partner, "if you11know that, we need not say any more about it. I shall not send you to prison."
He waited for Hanbury to speak, but the young man could say nothing.
"If I permit you to return to your work, and to gradually refund the money you have misappropriated, shall I be safe? Can I so trust you?"
The clerk started and looked up. Old William Burns was watching him wistfully. "Sir," stammered the young man, "I promise—I swear—" his voice failed him, and he struggled with rising hysteria.
"Very well," said the senior partner, rising and speaking very gently, "we will consider that arranged. No word of it will be said again by anyone."
He held out his hand and Hanbury grasped it feverishly.
"You are the second man who fell and was pardoned in this business, Mr. Hanbury," said the old man in a low tone. "I was the first. What you have done, I did. The mercy you have received, I received. God help us all."
They shook hands upon it, the two men who had been spared.—The British Weekly.
FOR WHAT DO YOU LIVE?
"Do any hearts beat faster,
Do any faces brighten,
To hear your footsteps on the stair,
To meet you, greet you, anywhere?
Are you so like the Master
Dark shadows to enlighten?
Are any happier to-day
Through words that they have heard you say?
Life were never worth the living
If no one were the better
For having met you on the way
And known the sunshine of your stay."
HOW THEY MAKE BREAD IN PERSIA.
By Eva R. Gailliard
PERSIAN bread is not baked in a loaf, as we bake it, but in a thin sheet which looks like an immensely-large griddle-cake; and the people of that country speak of "a bread," instead of saying "a loaf of bread," as we do.
They do not have stoves, and for an oven they dig a hole in the ground. They make it about six feet deep, smaller at the top than at the bottom, and plaster the inside with a mortar made of clay.
When baking-day comes, they build a fire in this pit or oven, and keep it burning until the sides are hot, and a good bed of clear coals is left on the bottom.
While the oven is being heated, the dough is being made; and, when everything is ready, a piece of dough about as large as a big apple is torn off, rolled out thin, and spread on a piece of sheepskin. With a careful swing, the dough is slapped against the hot
wall of the oven, and in a moment is as quickly taken off, baked to a nice brown.
Fuel is very scarce in Persia, and it takes a good deal of it to heat one of these ovens. For this reason, two or more women will do their baking at the same time, and, instead of baking every week, or oftener, as we do, they bake but once a month.
After the bread is baked, it is tied in a cotton cloth and hung up, or thrown into a corner, just as happens to be most convenient. If baked for a shop where bread is sold, it is at once hung on a line stretched in front of the shop, and is left there, exposed to the dust and flies, until it is sold.
The way the bread is used and eaten seems to us even stranger than the way in which it is made. If a Persian entertains his friends at a banquet, they find at each place on the table one of these breads, folded like a napkin. There is nothing else,—no knife, fork, or spoon, as we should find; and the
bread must take the place of them, and serve as a plate at the same time.
If anything like a stew is served, each guest tears a piece from his bread, and uses it to sop up the liquid. If he is served with something more solid, and not quite solid enough to be picked up in his fingers, he tears off another piece, and makes it serve as a spoon, after which he eats it; and all this time the bread has been serving as a plate. After everything else has been eaten, each guest eats his plate, and no one has a lot of dishes to wash.
Such bread as we have would not make a very good plate, even if baked in thin sheets; but the Persian bread is very tough. When chewed it becomes sticky. It is very nourishing, and is "the staff of life" in a far greater degree than bread like ours could ever become.—Eva R. Gailliard.
Types of Persian Priests.
ARSENIC FOR NERVOUSNESS.
ONE might as well take whisky for chronic alcoholism as to take arsenic for nervousness. Arsenic in any form is as sure to produce nervousness as an overdose of whisky is sure to produce drunkenness.
Arsenic will not cure nervousness. It will produce nervousness. No one was ever cured of nervousness by arsenic. Thousands have been made nervous by arsenic. Thousands more will be made nervous by arsenic. Yet the doctors go right on prescribing arsenic for nervousness.
There are various preparations of arsenic known by a great many different names.
Arsenic is death to the nervous system. Arsenic produces bloodless nerve centers, causes the nerves to tingle, tremble, and quiver. Arsenic will make hysterical babies of the strongest athletes. It will convert a wholesome, healthy woman into a petulant, puling, faded invalid.
If the doctors were obliged to take arsenic themselves long enough to discover by personal experience the disastrous condition it is sure to produce, they probably would then quit administering it to their patients. But it is an adage that doctors never take their own medicines. They conclude what any medicine will do by what the books tell them, or what some pompous professor has declared. Then they commence giving and continue to give, in spite of the fact that their patients grow steadily worse.
Arsenic, like bromide of potash, is given almost indiscriminately, by the average drug doctor, for nervousness. Neither of these drugs ever cured or ever helped a case of nervousness. Both of them will produce nervousness of the worst form, without fail. It is just such drugs as these that are responsible for that condition of body and mind known as Americanitis. We are a nation of nervous men and women. Our nervousness is generally attributed by the doctors to our climate and our habits of business and pleasure.
This is not true. We have an excellent climate, and our business methods and pleasures are of the best character—better than in any other country. It is the miserable drugs that we have been deluded into taking that is responsible for our nervousness.
Of all the nerve-destroying drugs that were ever invented by the medical profession, arsenic, bromide of potash, and strychnia lead the list. No nervous person ought ever to take a single dose of such medicines.—Medical Talk, for March.
