SOME METHODS OF EARNING. "What can she do?" is the question lately asked in a San Francisco paper by "Di Vernon," who, on behalf of women in general, is engaged in finding answers to her question. The Chicago Herald undertakes to show what "she" finds possible in Chicago, and the suggestive statement is given below:

The conclusion involuntarily drawn from the record is that there are comparatively few things she cannot do when once she determines to accomplish them, except perhaps that she cannot seem to avoid looking forward to marriage, instead of honor in her chosen avocation, as the fruition of her dearest hope; that she cannot divest herself of the spirit of domesticity and motherhood, and when slighted cannot rise above the pain with which independence is dearly bought. For the glory and beauty of womanhood, we hope she never will do any of these things, any more than we desire her to leave off her petticoats and stop crimping her hair.

Among the most unique and unusual women workers we find one who has been employed for many years by an undertaker to arrange for burial the bodies of women and children. It is a ghastly and somewhat abhorrent work, but very remunerative. and the woman who does it, though once destitute, is now above fear of want, and finds her services in demand more frequently than her strength can supply. There is one woman blacksmith, who is earning good wages; a life insurance agent, whose income is, or rather has been, about $150 a month, for she has recently cut short a promising career by marrying in the commonplace, ordinary way-a man. Two women dentists are enjoying a lucrative practice among women and children. One boat captain, who acquired her nautical skill on Lake Michigan, is now winning her fortune in command of a vessel on the Mississippi.

Thirty-seven women have been admitted to the bar, and of these Miss Kate Waugh, who was admitted after a most creditable examination, is enjoying a large and lucrative practice. Miss Kate Kane is a successful attorney whose practice is largely in the criminal courts. She is a graduate of the law department of the University of Michigan, and has practiced her profession both in Milwaukee and in Chicago, where she now resides. Nothing arouses her contempt and scorn so quickly as the dilettante young man lawyer who fears contamination in the tribunal for the consideration of criminal cases. Mrs. Catherine V. Waite is a representative of a different vocation, employing her legal knowledge in the carrying on of a most profitable real estate business, by which she has acquired property of great value. Many of the other equally promising and successful women have spoiled their business prospects in some moment of womanly weakness by losing their identity and becoming wives in the good, old-fashioned way.

Three hundred Chicago women write M. D. after their names, and 200 are in active practice. Chief among those who have achieved success in the province of healing are Mrs. Dr. WeeksBurnet, Dr. Sarah Hackett Stevenson, and Mrs. Julia Holmes Smith, the latter enjoying a lucrative practice among Chicago's 400 that many a superior young medical man envies. About 100 of these women savants in the art of healing receive incomes exceeding $3,000 a year, and in some cases more than double that amount. In journalism the shining lights are Miss Mary Krout, who has won recognition both as a poet and special writer; Mrs. Myra Bradwell, editor of the Legal News; Nettie A. Weeks, publisher and associate editor of the Journal of Heredity, a scientific monthly; Antoinette B. Wakeman, who conducts the Journal of Housekeeping, and Miss Frances Lord, publisher of the Woman's World. Three hundred and eight girls earn a living setting type at something like $10 a week, while a few copy-holders earn $15 or $18 in the same time, and the girl type-writer is too numerous for calculation as to numbers. She is found in every business office, both public and private, and earns $15 to $125 a month. Next to the type-writer, clerkships claim the largest number of girls and women, at wages ranging from $5 to $15 a week, and so great is their ability as sales women and natural aptitude that they have crowded out the male clerks to a large extent.

One thousand five hundred and fifty women teachers must be counted in the list of women wage earners at salaries from $2.50 a day to $5. Good teachers were never yet sufficiently plentiful, and

there is such a demand for those qualified to fill special positions that the salary paid is sometimes $3,000 a year.

But the real queens and dictators of the realm of woman's work, who are always in demand, who can afford to be prodigal of situations, who dictate hours and privileges, command households, rule the employer with a rod of iron, set the time of his dining and the hour for his breakfast, all for the sum of from $3 to $6 a week, are the women whose royal sovereignty consists in the skill to cook a plain dinner, launder simple garments, and wield a broom and duster with moderate effectiveness.

OUR CORRESPONDENTS.

Two or three of the letters lately received ask for recipes which may be utilized for articles to be sent to Women's Exchanges. To all such correspondents let me say, that the columns of Good HOUSEKEEPING abound in excellent recipes which can be used for just such purposes. If more direct help is needed, it may be found in Catherine Owen's "Gentle Bread-Winners," which is printed in a small volume published by Houghton, Mifflin & Co. of Boston. In this the heroine gives an actual experience in preparing and sending cake and other forms of cooked food to an Exchange. It is Mrs. Owen's own work that is recorded in the pretty pages, and it is accurate and careful, like all her work.

Another asks as to the making of candy at home, and again I can do nothing better than refer her to the little book to be had from the publishers of GOOD HOUSEKEEPING and prepared by the same author for just such questioners. There are larger manuals, but none so practical for the ordinary worker at home. The third writes:

"I wonder why you do not give recipes, for I happen to know that you have written an admirable cook-book and are a good housekeeper."

Thanks, my correspondent, but this is not the department for recipes, nor could I reasonably undertake to give them. What we want here is, as I have before said, helpful suggestions from all our readers as to possibilities in women's work. Any woman who has succeeded, no matter how trivial she may feel her work to be, can help other women by giving some details of her rise and progress. So remember this when sending a letter of inquiry as to how you yourself are to be benefited.

Another friend in Kansas writes:

"I wish you would tell us how we can help each other. It does seem as if a great deal might be done in this way, if women would only stop and ask themselves, 'What fact is there in my experience of work that it would be most useful for me to tell?' One difficulty is that women forget that they owe this to other women. We are limited sinners, and it is so often the merely personal that moves us."

Thanks, dear friend, for saying this over again for me. It is one of the things that really requires to be "kept standing," as the printers say. Some fresh reader picks up the magazine and wonders what she can do and what is expected of her. Some write and ask, and for every one must be much the same answer. Let us have personal experiences, and this column can thus be made as helpful as any other portion of the department.

A stranger from Quincy, Ill., writes:

"I want to congratulate you on the freshness of your column about women, and the interest of the whole department. I feel as if already knew what woman's work means far better for the fortnightly visits of our dear little GOOD HOUSEKEEPING, a magazine so unpretentious that it never blows its own trumpet loud enough to attract the attention it ought to have. But even overmodest as it is, it has many friends, and let me whisper to you

privately, I believe its way is the best and that its honesty and simplicity, like healthy childhood, mean long and honorable life." As one of the staff of workers I cannot say all that I otherwise might as to this quality of honesty which it is always a pleasure to find recognized. Popular editing is so much of it given over to puffing, to sensation, and all that form the lower elements of American journalism, that quiet methods often run the risk of being underestimated. All the same, the standard is altering, and we have less and less reason to be ashamed of the quality of the work done.

The rest of the list in the pigeon-hole is made up chiefly of inquiries about Exchanges, answers to which will be found in the last ten numbers of this department of the magazine. I repeat here, for the benefit of several, that the two New York Exchanges are at 339 Fifth avenue and 130 West Twenty-third street, the latter being known as the Mutual Benefit Exchange for Woman's Work.

SAYINGS AND DOINGS OF WOMEN.

Catherine Cole of the New Orleans Picayune says that in education, in philanthropic work and in the matter of earning a living, women have a better chance in Mississippi than anywhere else in the Union.

Mrs. Annie Williams, aged 35, has a contract for grading six miles of the Evansville & Richmond Railway, and she has 30 teams at work at Elizabethtown, Ind., breaking ground. The contract was originally let to her husband, who is now dead.

Dr. King, an American woman, occupies the somewhat enviable position of physician-in-ordinary to one of the most distinguished statesmen in China. Her practice in Shanghai is large and valuable, and some of her successful surgical operations have elicited the warmest praise from her brother physicians. There is a great field in China for the woman doctor, and those who are struggling along here might do well to wend their way to the kingdom of "rice and mice and everything nice."

Mrs. Bolton Lacy is a fully certificated dentist, who has been practicing for 20 years in Brighton, England. She acquired her skill as assistant to her husband, and after his death was able to carry on his business and support her young family. She is especially successful in persuading timid children to submit cheerfully to needed dental operations.

Miss Isabella Smith, the private secretary of Labor Commissioner Merriwether, has been assigned the work of gathering statistics concerning the women and girl operatives in the factories of Missouri.

Dr. S. Weir Mitchell, the famous Philadelphia physician, is said to have lately received a rather curious present from a young lady whom he had rescued from nervous invalidism. It was a cord of white oak chopped down and sawed up by her own hands, and sent as circumstantial evidence of the health she had gained by following his directions to live an open-air life in the woods.

The Postmaster-General's attention has been called to the condition of about a hundred women employed in the mail-bag repairshop at Washington. They are compelled to mend 40 bags daily for $30 per month. The work is hard, the building unhealthful, and it is claimed that as a consequence many of the women become sick and die.

Miss Constance Haden, who recently died in England, was the first woman who received the honor of being made an associate of the Mason Science College of Birmingham, where she won the Heclop gold medal. She identified herself most actively with the advanced interests of women, and it is proposed to put her bust in Mason College to perpetuate her memory, and to stimulate other girls to the development and exercise of their talents.

Miss Charlotte Robinson has the honor of printing on her business cards, "Decorator to Her Majesty." Miss Robinson is a brownhaired, bright-eyed, well-educated little lady, with a musical voice and an American alertness of demeanor. She has two shops-one in London and the other in Manchester-both of which she super

vises. In addition to this labor she spends much time in visiting town and country houses, and advising as to their decoration and

furnishing. She is an expert draughtsman and a thorough mathe

matician, as well as a household artist. Having made an estimate of the cost of time, labor and material, she submits specifications to her client, and if they are accepted, gives the plan at once to her workmen, and refuses to entertain interference or suggestion from her employers when once the work is begun. Some of the most beautiful "interiors" in England are of her designing.-Harper's Bazar.

Barnard College, through its board of trustees and associate members, invited the social world to tea on Friday, February 7. Mrs. F. B. Arnold, Mrs. Frances Fisher Wood, Miss Alice Williams, Mrs. C. S. Longstreet, and Miss Helen Dawes Brown received the hundreds of visitors who came. The college occupies a handsome house at 343 Madison avenue, with its class-rooms, its laboratory and the rooms of the Women's University Club (composed of graduates of the various colleges which afford women a university training), under the presidency of Miss Helen Dawes Brown. The name of Barnard College was given to this adjunct of Columbia in recognition of the energy and perseverance with which the late President of Columbia, Dr. F. A. P. Barnard, supported and promoted the cause of the higher education of women. At present Barnard College is the only college annex which gives degrees. Twenty-one ladies compose the present class, who are keeping pace step by step with the students of Columbia, receiving the same instruction from the same tutors.

A school of journalism has been established in England by two young ladies, both being competent and experienced journalists. Pupils are received on the apprenticeship system and required to pay a fee on entering the office, where they will be trained as compositors, proof-readers, short-hand writers, reporters, and journalists. Toward the end of the three years for which they are bound, they will receive a certain fixed salary.

Mrs. Kennan is a great help to George Kennan in his work for the oppressed people of Russia. She re-copies manuscript, reads proofs, translates Russian works, goes over the receipts from his work, and sees to their investment or deposit. Mrs. Kennan is described as a woman of considerable business tact, with much personal attractiveness.

Mrs. Ednah D. Cheney, to whom Louisa M. Alcott left her private papers, to be disposed of as she saw fit, and who wisely used them for the biography of her life-long friend, is a widow, and lives in a quiet home in Jamaica Plain, a Boston suburb. Her house is a roomy old place, almost hidden in the heart of a forest of oak, and overrun with climbing plants and vines, which, as a friend says, are full of sweet odors and song birds. From every window there is a view of woodland or field, and in every room there is a shelf of books. The studio where Mrs. Cheney does her writing is filled with casts of the antique, or unfinished sketches of her deceased husband.

Among businesses for women, that prosecuted by Mrs. Ernestine Schaffner is not likely to be over-crowded. Her sign, displayed at No. 21 Centre street, near the New York City Prison, bears this legend: "Free Advice to the Poor and to the Innocent Accused." Mrs. Schaffner is a woman of middle age, who for the past five

years has devoted her time, her energies and her private fortune to the relief of those indigent prisoners who, less by fault than by mismisfortune, have been committed to the Tombs. The warden himmself is not more regular in his daily round than this self-appointed visitor, who talks with each new offender; and when she finds a friendless prisoner who convinces her of his innocence, she secures bail or counsel for him, becoming responsible for necessary expenses or personally defraying them. She is said to have developed an almost infallible instinct as to the worthiness of her motley client age, and never to have failed to secure an acquittal or a discharge on the merits of the case. Both in the office of the District Attorney and in the Tombs she is afforded all practicable assistance in her benevolent work. Giving her personal attention to every case, daunted by no hardship, discouraged by no delay, depressed by no ingratitude, and tempted from her unattractive toil by no consideration of ease or pleasure, the name of this new Elizabeth Fry is to be written in the list that Abou Ben Adhem's led.

I would like to suggest to " M. T. P." that she some day summon all the cheerfulness possible, which will no doubt make her face proportionately sunny, and calmly tell her "dyspeptics" that she will thank each of them to tell her in plain terms exactly what they would like her to cook for them for each meal. If they do not accept such a liberal invitation as that, she might put them on a diet of fruit for breakfast, and milk for the other two meals. She might even allow them to take milk just before retiring. I do not forget that "M. T. P." has no cow, but I'm sure from experience that it will pay to buy the milk. All fruits, save oranges, are to be cooked. The milk may be used either hot or cold; never allowed to get scalded. At all events, when she has done that she may go on her way serenely, being sure that she has performed her whole duty towards, at least, those members of her family.

NORTH PLATTE, Neb.

WAYS OF USING INDIAN MEAL.

Editor of GOOD HOUSEKEEPING:

S. F. G.

The following well-tested recipes I have used for years with perfect success. They are in reply to requests by "Mrs. E. F. C.," in GOOD HOUSEKEEPING of March 1, and "A. M. S.," in March 15: Old-Fashioned Johnny Cake.

Two cupfuls of buttermilk (or sour milk, if "solid," beaten briskly with an egg-beater), one cupful of sifted flour, two cupfuls of sifted Indian meal, a small teaspoonful of salt, a rounded teaspoonful of soda (dissolved in a tablespoonful of warm water), a tablespoonful of brown sugar (or two if liked sweeter), a well-beaten egg, and three tablespoonfuls of melted butter or nice sweet lard. Put the milk, sugar, and salt into a bowl, add soda, next flour and meal; after mixing, add first the butter then the egg, pour into square baking-pans and bake in a quick oven for half an hour. The "old-fashioned way of baking it was to put it into a bake-kettle or long-legged spider; set this upon live coals raked out upon the hearth, and pile live coals, also, upon the heavy iron cover which was part of the utensil. This way of baking can be imitated by baking in a covered iron spider in the oven until nearly done, then removing the cover and browning nicely.

Hoe Cake.

Cook two teacupfuls of rice until tender, stir into it a tablespoonful of butter; when cold, add two teacupfuls of corn meal, a level teaspoonful of salt, and two well-beaten eggs. Beat briskly for five minutes, spread on an oaken board, and bake by tipping the board up before a fire-place with a liberal supply of live coals raked out in front. The dough should

be spread half an inch thick and, when done on one side, turned and baked a golden brown on the other.

Indian Meal Mush.

Put a teacupful of sifted meal (the white preferable) into a large bowl; moisten it with a teacupful of cold water; add a rounding teaspoonful of salt; pour into it five teacupfuls of boiling water, stirring rapidly all the time;. pour the mixture into a spider or kettle, and stir steadily until it reaches the boiling point, then set it on the top of the stove where it will bubble steadily for three-quarters of an hour. This process is a perfect safeguard against lumps (if directions are followed). It also does away with the tedious process of sifting the dry meal through the fingers; besides, there is no danger of getting it too thick, which is the main cause of the raw, "chicken-food" taste complained of so much. Where there is too much meal for the quantity of water, it prevents the full expansion of the granules and their thorough cooking. This form of mush is delicious served with cream or rich milk. If wanted for frying, pour it into square pans, let it stand over night and cut into slices half an inch thick. Fry in very sweet lard and butter (half of each), or in lard and beef drippings.

Delicate Corn Muffins.

Two eggs and two tablespoonfuls of sugar beaten together. Add one and a half teacupfuls of sweet milk (water may be substituted), a half teaspoonful of salt, one teacupful of Indian meal (white preferred), two teacupfuls of flour sifted with two heaping teaspoonfuls of best bakingpowder, and last, one tablespoonful of melted butter. These are delicious. MRS. A. H. H.

A BILL OF FARE FOR DYSPEPTICS.
Editor of GOOD HOUSEKEEPING:

A recipe for cheerfulness is found in John 16:24:
"Ask and ye shall receive, that your joy may be full."

I wish to say to "M. T. P.," who is so unhappy over her table matters, that I have had quite an experience with indigestion in my own case and in that of one very dear to me also, and I have found that cheerfulness is one of the best panaceas for dyspepsia in any form. Again, when tried by their appetites not being good, remember that the dyspeptic suffers more from this than anything else; also that if their stomachs were in a healthy condition their food would not trouble them. Now, as to their food. I have em

ployed some of the best talent known to find what was suitable for a dyspeptic's diet. There are:

Fruits,

Jellies of all kinds,

Rice cooked slowly and well, Graham Bread,

Stale Soda Biscuits,

Milk Toast,

Graham or White Butter Toast,
Sponge Cake well baked,

Sea Moss Farina Blanc-mange,
Corn Starch in any form,
Dropped Eggs on Toast,
Eggs rare,

Raw Oysters with Lemon Juice,
Oysters stewed in Milk,
Lamb Chop broiled,
Mutton Stew,

Boiled, broiled or roast Chicken,
Stewed Rabbit,

Quails broiled on Toast,
Quail Stew,
Sweet-breads,
Lamb Fries,

Mashed or baked White Potatoes,
Molasses Cake,

Molasses Cookies,

Plain Cream Cake,
Soft boiled Eggs,
Stewed Prunes,
Canned Peaches,

Apricots, canned or stewed.

We also find that part of a glass of hot water before eating is of great benefit. It is better taken an hour before eating, but is a help if taken at that time. F. I. B.

MINETTO, N. Y.

FOR THE CHILDREN OF THE HOUSEHOLD AND THE CHILDREN OF A LARGER GROWTH AS WELL.

Contributions for this department are always in order, the only provision being that everything submitted shall be fresh and entertaining.

PRIZE PUZZLE.

254.-A FAMILY MEDICINE-CHEST-REMEDIES AND

APPLIANCES.

[OLD FABLES WITH A NEW FACE.-NO. 11.]

'There was a man in our town,

And he was wondrous wise;

He jumped into a bramble-bush

And scratched out both his eyes;
And when he saw his eyes were out,
With all his might and main
He jumped into another bush
And scratched them in again."

The medical fraternity have been a target for satire ever since literature and medicine were introduced into the polity of the nations. There is in the above ancient rhyme a latent sarcasm, which if expanded into verse would probably be expressed in our day something after the following fashion, the hidden words, or names (which every reader of GOOD HOUSEKEEPING is invited "to go in quest of ") being those of simplest ordinary physic (remedies for diseases) and appliances, such as any family medicine-chest might, and every one should, contain:

DOCTORS DISAGREE-THE "BRAMBLE-BUSH" REMEDY.

1. Down through the street, with hasty step, some gossip runs and cries, 2. Poor Neighbor Smith! What a mishap! Ill luck for one so wise. 3. He jumped into a bramble-bush and scratched his eyes both out; 4. He lost his way and lost his wits, so dark a night, no doubt!

5. Go fetch the doctors here,—there's need,—doctors of every kind! 6. All that are skilful in that art are bound to help the blind."

7. The Indian witch, they get her first, her basket on her arm,

8. With simples stuffed, and root and dram, intending some wise charm. 9. Next, stately Doctor Oldschool comes, and can it really be? 10. Up last, erect and solemn, steps the Homœopath Van V.

11. Each "regular" feels affronted much, and drives with bitter scoff,

12. "Decamp, horse-leech," exclaiming both, the poor old woman off.

13. Thus rid of their joint rival, as man naturally will,

14. They fall into a hot dispute on their respective skill;

15. While the poor patient in the bush lies "out of sight near by. 16. "I would prescribe for colic, or ice in cloths apply"

17. Grave Doctor Oldschool says. "Ho! psha!" barks out his colleague, "Stuff!

18. You're pitch-dark blind-blinder than he, and he is blind enough. 19. Do see me tickle once his eyes, I'll guarantee a cure;

20. My Universal Vegetine's infallible, and pure.

21. I say his eyes are out!" he screamed (for Oldschool muttered "Quack").

22. "What if I put on ice, a ton, I cannot get 'em back!" 23. "Coolness applied to them allows relief," the doctor cried. 24. "You're bringing errors in, my friend," Homœopath replied; 25. "Try my tan-syrup mixed with gin, germane for such a plight; 26. Give him a cent's worth; I presage he'll quickly come out right, 27. And, getting his new eyes well in, see double with two pair!" 28. "You're going at a nice rate now," with a contemptuous air 29. Quoth Oldschool; "Bleeding's what he wants, and that stares in our face."

30. And here he gave a hasty glance toward his morocco case.

46. What slop I ate when I was sick myself, and practised so! 47. New facts and faiths have risen, nature needs especial schools." 48. 'Especial!' O, ‘especial!'" Oldschool cries,-"a trap for fools! 49. Your maniac ideas I must ardently oppose.

666

50. You new lights deem us tardy, and with empty phrase impose; 51. Though we despise your foolish art, shorn of its vain pretence, 52. You talk and act the harlequin in every silly sense;

53. To draw and cheat a greasy ring, enchanting country boors."

54. "City or sylvan, I'll assert my practice matches yours,"

55. Cries Van. "Who turns consumptives off, with liver worth no show, 56. One lung already gone and one lobe liable to go?

57. Who charges such enormous fees that, with one year insured,

58. All those whose exit you prepare go richer than the cured?
59. Getting free tickets for a hearse, nice progress in a case!
60. While all the brats your nostrums spare go rickety apace.
61. You've put to sleep so many in the town sexton's care
62. That every man I see declares his perquisites you share."
63. "Insults like these 'tis not in human nature to endure,"

64. Cries Oldschool. "If you cannot learn, I cannot teach you, sure.
65. So daft a quack, such false, ill-chosen narratives to tell!
66. Even Satan, nine times trying, could not invent so well!
67. Globe-trotters I have read of-you as a globe-liar walk
68. So fast and well, O, Belial would laugh to hear you talk!
69. Scamp! horses could not drag the truth out from you, having none.
70. Unless of wit I am bereft, I really might as soon

71. Expect to hear snipe cackling, or see a rooster cry,

72. As catch you talking sense or truth, who always talk a lie." 73. By this time 'tis an even fight, so hot the strife became,

74. Words flashed like sparks on powder cast, or oil fed into flame. 75. When sudden, to the crowd's amaze, their neighbor with a rush 76. Leaps in and shouts, "I've scratched 'em back, I tried another bush." 77. "Similia similibus,' a genuine cure," Van V.

78. Exclaims; "my practise and my patient, I demand my fee! 79. None more's in point, nor any case can I see done so well!"

80. Two hours ago," sneers Oldschool, "you'd have said it was a sell." 81. Here a bystander interposed: "The man has cured himself, 82. So neither of you combatants gains credit, nor gets pelf; 83. But deem us kind you're not in jail, as breakers of the peace.

84. Now all go home, let us have rest."-But Oldschool would not cease. 85. "I'll see my friend the editor, his quill shall set me right; 86. He'll prove you've blundered ill into new axioms to-night. 87. You quack, all your attempts at art are met, I claim, and foiled."

88. So then the crowd dispersed, half loth to see their fun so spoiled; 89. And all applaud an umpire so judicious, fair and wise,

90. While Neighbor Smith sets up forthwith as "doctor for the eyes."

PRIZES.

Three prizes are offered: First-For the list containing the larg est number of acceptable names, $4; Second-For the second largest, $3; Third-For the third largest, One Year's Subscription to GOOD HOUSEKEEPING.

RULES.

A list to draw a prize must contain at least 94 specific names of remedies for diseases, bruises, etc., and physicians' and nurses' appliances-names more or less hidden in the above poem.

Letters forming a name must read in consecutive order from left to right, and no letter once drawn on can be used in forming another name immediately preceding or succeeding the one first chosen; nor will abbreviations, parts of compound, or obsolete words, or words incorrectly spelled, be accepted; neither can newlydiscovered names be added after one list has been mailed. Webster's Unabridged, with its Supplement, will be taken as authority.

Beginning with the numbered lines, give each name (writing

32. A wasp, on general principles, ready to stick and sting;

33. A comical amusement 'tis to watch you purge and bleed;

34. But now," with emphasis he adds," hear how I would proceed: 35. Take seeds of a ripe cactus and macerate while hot; 36. Add seasal, very strong, a lump; boil till it's thicker got; 37. Strain it, and use the single drop in which its virtues lurk,38. But put all in I mention or the medicine won't work."

39. Says Oldschool: "Sir, in sense if lax, see, don't you still remark 40. That no one but an idiot would in such a course embark?" 666 'Idiot!'" cries Van, "I'll answer this affront, for I, 'tis known, 42. In contests medical am used always to hold my own: 43. A narrow-rooted prejudice inspires your lofty airs;

41.

44. The public loves some novelty, new shops and fresher wares;

the line in which it is found, and the total number of names discovered, but do not copy out the poem in full.

General terms, such as Doctor, Quack, Patient, Case and Cure will not be admitted.

In case of ties precedence will be determined by date of postmark. Write on the lower left hand corner of your envelope, "For the Puzzle Department."

All lists for this contest must be postmarked not later than Saturday, May 3, 1890, at 6 p. m.

Responses that do not contain full name and address of the sender will not be considered.

A PAGE OF FUGITIVE VERSE. GATHERED HERE AND THERE.

THE LOVED AND LOST.

The loved and lost! Why do we call them lost?

Because we miss them from our onward road? God's unseen angel o'er our pathway crost, Looked on us all, and loving them the most, Straightway relieved them of life's weary load.

And this we call a "loss; " oh! selfish sorrow
Of selfish hearts! Oh! we of little faith!
Let us look round, some argument to borrow
Why we in patience should await the morrow
That surely must succeed this night of
death.

Ay, look upon this dreary, desert path,

The thorns and thistles whereso'er we turn; What trials and what tears, what wrongs and wrath,

What struggles and what strife the journey hath!

They have escaped from these, and lo! we

mourn.

Ask the poor sailor, when the wreck is done, Who with his treasure strove the shore to

reach

While with the raging waves he battled on, Was it not joy where every joy seemed gone, To see his loved ones landed on the beach?

A poor wayfarer, leading by the hand

A little child, had halted by the well To wash from off her feet the clinging sand And tell the tired boy of that bright land Where, this long journey passed, they longed to dwell;

When lo! the King, who many mansions had, Drew near and looked upon the suffering twain,

Then pitying spake, "Give me the little lad;
In strength renewed, and glorious beauty clad,
I'll bring him with me when I come again."

Did she make answer selfishly and wrong-
"Nay, but the woes I feel he too must share!"
Or, rather bursting into joyful song,
Go on her way rejoicing and made strong

To struggle on, since he was freed from

care.

We will do likewise; Death has made no breach
In love and sympathy, in hope and trust;
If outward sign or sound our ears ne'er reach,
There is an inward spiritual speech

dust.

"There is a heart, there is a hand, we feel but The waste of my life has a rose root within it, And thy fondness alone to the sunlight can win it.

You cut the grass, worked soon and late, you Eyes like the skies of poor Erin, our mother, did your very best. Where sunshine and shadows are chasing each other;

That was your work; you've naught at all to do with wind or rain,

Smiles coming seldom, but childlike and simple, And do not doubt but you will reap rich fields And opening their eyes from the heart of a of golden grain; dimple

For there's a heart, and there's a hand, we feel Oh thanks to the Saviour that even the seembut cannot see; ing

We've always been provided for, and we shall Is left to the exile to brighten his dreaming. always be." You have been glad when you knew I was

"That's like a woman's reasoning-we must because we must."

gladdened;

Dear, are you sad to hear that I am saddened? She softly said: "I reason not, I only work Our hearts ever answer in tune and in time, and trust;

The harvest may redeem the day-keep heart whate'er betide,

When one door shuts I've seen another open wide.

love,

As octave to octave, or rhyme unto rhyme, love.

I cannot smile but your cheeks will be glowing;

There is a heart, there is a hand, we feel but You cannot weep but my tears will be flowcannot see;

"There is a heart, there is a hand, we feel but Come, for my heart in your absence is dreary; Haste, for my spirit is sickened and weary; Come to the arms which alone shall caress thee;

We've always been provided for, and we shall always be."

Days come and go-'twas Christmas tide, and the great fire burned clear.

The farmer said: "Dear wife, it's been a good and happy year;

The fruit was gain, the surplus corn has bought the hay, you know."

She lifted then a smiling face and said: "I told you so!

For there's a heart, and there's a hand, we feel but cannot see;

We've always been provided for, and we shall always be!" - Baltimore Methodist.

TO MY WIFE.

Each heart with love in a melting mood;

To part was pain,
'Twas plain, quite plain.

The sighing swain took a final kiss-
A rousing smack,

A bold attack-
The dying note of their soulful bliss;
Alas! alack!
A parting crack.
The old clock saw, and hid its face;
A shocking sight
So late at night

It woke the echoes about the place;
"Not right! not right!
Young man, take flight."

It looked again and beheld a sight -
An old man mad,
The young girl's dad-

A fleeting form in the cold, dark night,
A maiden sad,
Half-sad, half-glad.

-The Jeweller.