EATING BETWEEN MEALS 
the potatoes which he saw in the fields by the 
roadside, and gives a general direction for the 
care of his stock at the approach of cold weather. 
On December 10th, 179!), tour days before his 
death, he addressed a long letter to the superin¬ 
tendent of his farms, the last elaborate produc¬ 
tion of his pen, inclosing a plan drawn up on 
thirty folio p^ges. containing directions for their 
cultivation for several years to come. 
look forward to the luxury of a hot bath, and a 
still more luxurious shampooing, if not by his 
barber or the blind professors of the art, who go 
about all the evening, with a whistle for their cry, 
seeking customers, he can always make sure of it 
by his wife's aid .—Three Years in Japan. 
Among the slight causes of impaired digestion, 
is to be reckoned the very general habit of eat¬ 
ing between meals. The powerful digeriion of 
the growing boy makes light of all such irregu¬ 
larities, but to see adult?, and often those by no 
means in robust health, eating muffins, buttered 
toast, or bread and butter, a couple of hours 
a.ter a heavy dinner, is a distressing spectacle to 
the physiologist. It takes at least four hours to 
digest a dinner: during that period the stomach 
should t>e allowed repose. A little tea, or any 
other liquid, is beneficial rather than otherwise, 
but solid food is a mere incumbrance. There is 
no gastric juice ready to digest it; and if any 
reader, having at all a delicate digestion, will 
attend to his sensations after eating muffins or 
toast at tea, unless his dinner has had time to 
digest, he will need no sentence of explanation ] 
to convince him of the serious error prevalent in 
English families, of making tea a light meal, 
quickly succeeding a substantial dinner. Regu¬ 
larity in the hours of eating i? far from neces¬ 
sary; but regularity of intervals is of primary 
importance. It matters little at what hour you 
lunch or dine, provided you allow the proper 
intervals to elapse between breakfast, and lunch¬ 
eon,.and between luebeon and dinner. What 
are those intervals? Thisisa question each must 
settle for himself. Much depends on the amount 
CHICKENS COMING HOME TO ROOST, 
A GREAT ARMY ON THE MARCH. 
March! What is comprehended in the march 
of a great army under the burning suns of July? 
Will our rugged farmers, who sweat in the har¬ 
vest field, or tradesmen, who daily put forth 
Btrong muscular effort at their ordinary business, 
believe me when assuriug them that were the 
strongest from among their number for the first 
time to be arrayed with what each soildier daily 
and for many long hours and many miles car¬ 
ries— knapsack, haversack, gun, ammunition 
box, canteen, tin cup, coffee boiler, with various 
other etceteras, weighing in all about ns much 
as a bushel of wheat—and he, thus accoutred, 
started, at the middle of a hoi July day, on a 
dusty road, amid a thick and smothering crowd 
of meu, horses, mules and wagons; in less than 
a mile he would fall prostrate to the earth, and 
perhaps uever to be able to rise again. It has, 
however, taken two years of terrible war to 
inure these iron men to undergo this wouderful 
Nor must it be forgotten, 
Many years ago, a poor boy was walking one 
of the many crooked streets of Boston, on his 
way to the printing office. He was an appren¬ 
tice in that office, without friends or home, or 
any one to care for him. He had met with 
some rebuff that day, aud felt discouraged. 
There was no one to cheer him when he tried 
to do well, and many to blame him when ho did 
I not try. As he slowly moved toward his place 
of work, an old gentleman met him aud spoke 
to him. 
“ Is yonr name Samuel? ” 
“Yes, sir.” 
“And your father’s name was John-, was 
it not?” 
“It wa", sir; but he is dead.” 
“Is your mother not living?” 
“No, sir.” 
“Well, are you alone in the world, without 
friends or property?” 
“ Have neither, sir.” 
“Nor have I many or much. But let me say, 
Samuel, that you can do well without either. 
You have a young heart, strong limbs, good 
health, aud you have only to earn a good char¬ 
acter, and you will be a man. It is all ill your 
own power. You can make yourself just what 
you choose to be. I have watched you and 
noticed that you are sober, aud Industrious, and 
have too much self-respect, to go in bad company. 
Continue to do so aud you will be all that you 
1 want to be. Remember, my boy, that your 
! character is in your own keeping. God bless 
^ you!” 
The old man passed on, and so did the ap¬ 
prentice. They never met again. But those 
words of kindness, and approbation, and cheer, 
sank down deep into the heart of the boy. 
They gave him new hope and courage. And 
s from that day he began to develop more cliar- 
>' acter, aud more that was manly. Faithfully 
e he served out the time of his apprenticeship, 
s though often he had not a whole shirt to his 
A VISIT TO THE MAMMOTH CAVE, 
Curious Origin of some Words— Dr. La¬ 
tham, in his grammar, gives some curious in¬ 
stances of the misspelling of words, arising from 
their sound, which error has led to the produc¬ 
tion not only of a form, but of a meaning, very 
different from the original. Thus Bent de lion. 
originally referring to the tool, has been corrupt¬ 
ed into dandelion, hav ing reference to the flaunt¬ 
ing aspect of the (lower. Contre-dance has be¬ 
come country dance. Shamefistrwas, originally 
referring to the. all he, has become shumejiicud- 
ness, and applied to the countenance. C 'ap-d-pk 
has produced apple-pie order. Folio capo , Ital¬ 
ian tor the first sized sheet, has produced foolscap 
Asparagus, sparroujgvass ,• Qinisole ariv kok'i . 
Jerusalem artichoke. Alassaniello, the name o( a 
famous Neapolitan rebel and the hero ol the 
opera, is nothing but Jfas-Aniello, a corruption 
of the true name, Thomas Aniello . Uogoumont , 
famous in the annals of Waterloo, is properly 
Chateau Goumont. 
witnessed by us was “ Govin’s Dome. Passing 
down steep declivities, through a narrow, wind¬ 
ing way, on Lhe brink of deep pits, and up 
ledges, we come to a natural window through 
which we gaze upon one of the grandest scenes 
of nature. Far, far above was lhe dome, anil far, 
tar below could be dimly seen the rocky pave¬ 
ment, while the pillars, corridors and piastres, 
cut by a divine artist, showed his wondrous, 
infinite power. In every direction, on every 
side, the indications of an Almighty hand are so 
palpably evident in the adornment and enrich¬ 
ment of this vast domain, that we are tilled with 
awe, as if in the immediate presence of tho great 
Creator. Here are high hills, but instead of 
being clad with waving forests, they are crowned 
with stalactite formations, giving n vivid ap¬ 
pearance of the “post oaks" of the upper world; 
there are deep ravines, but instead of (lowing 
streams and beautiful verdure, are tho dry 
water-courses of ages past, winding through the 
physical endurance, 
that in the hardening process, two out of three 
have sunk under the (oil aud exposure, and have 
disappeared from the army. 
Our mode of marching for many days, during 
the late campaign, has been after the following 
fashion. Stretched out in a single road, and iu 
close marching order, the Army of the Potomac, 
with its infantry, cavalry, artillery, ambulances 
and wagon trains, would extend a distance of 
forty miles; so where the front may now be, it 
would, iu ordinary marches, take several days 
for the rear to reach. In order to facilitate mat¬ 
ters, koep the army more compact, and to be 
able to act more speedily in concert, as lately at 
Gettysburg, several columns usually start to¬ 
gether on different roads, leading in the same 
general direction. Not ouly this, but of late It 
PHILOSOPHY OF EXERCISE, 
All know that the less we exercise the less 
health we have, and the more certain are we to 
die before our lime. But comparatively few 
persons are able to explain how exercise does 
promote health. Both beast and bird, iu a state 
of nature, are exempt from disease, except lu 
rare eases; it is because the unappeasable iusllnct 
of searching for their necessary food impels 
them to ceaseless activities. Children, when 
left to themselves, eat a great deal and have 
excellent health, because they will be doing 
something all the time, until they become so 
tired they fall asleep; and as soon as they wake, 
they begin right away to run about again; thus, 
their whole existence is spent in alternate eating, 
and sleeping, and exercise, which is interesting 
and pleasurable. The health of childhood would 
be enjoyed by those of maturer years, if, like 
children, they would eat only when they are 
hungry, stop when they have done, take rest, in 
sleep as soon as they are tired, aud when not 
eating or resting, would spend the time dili¬ 
gently in such muscular activities as would be 
interesting, agreeable and profitable. Exercise 
without mental elasticity, without an euliven- 
ment of the feelings and the mind, is of compar¬ 
atively little value. 
1. Exercise is health - producing, because it 
works off and out of the system its waste, dead, 
and effete matters; these are all converted into a 
liquid form, called by some “ humors,” which 
HOW NEAR WE ARE TO DEATH 
wide thoroughfare, wagons and artillery go 
abreast, and the infantry column take a course 
in the vicinity, and parallel with tho road- 
through field and woods, down into deep glens 
and hollows, up steep bluffs and over high hills, 
through unbridged marshes, ponds and breaks. 
Along such a course, it is quite as easy for the 
footman as for us who are on horseback. 
The eye never wearies in its interest with 
ever-varying scenes constantly presenting them¬ 
selves on these marches. Loug miles of artil- 
lery—a cannon with its six horses, followed by 
its caissons and its six horses, and others and 
others—strings of neat two-horse ambulances 
reaching out of sight, and army wagons without 
num ber or end—with those on foot; great streams 
of living men, with those remaining stationary, 
sometimes imagining will never all pass. A 
strange fascination has it at least to the writer, 
often on the march, when getting on some emi¬ 
nence and looking forward for miles at that dark 
column four abreast, winding down into valleys, 
up over hills, across fields, orchard' >vr meadows 
—away, away, and hiding itself in some dense 
woods afar off. Looking back, the same curious, 
bewitching vision meets the eye. A vast, living, 
moving anaconda, encircling aud seemingly 
about to crush the earth within its folds. At a 
had ever been, universally respected and greatly 
honored. 
One day he met a young man who qual¬ 
ified for a valuable office under tho United States 
government, but he had no friends to aid him. 
“Whose son are you?” asked the mayor. 
“Tho son of-,” was the answer. 
“ Was old Mr.-your grandfather? ” 
“ Yes, sir.” 
“I remember him well. He it was who gave 
me kind words of encouragement when I needed 
them most! I attribute most of my success 
in life to those few words that dropped from his 
lips! Young man! if in my power, you shall 
have the office, out of gratitude to your grand¬ 
father!” 
Away posted the mayor to Washington, and 
soon returned with the appointment in his 
pocket.—R ev. John Todd, in 8. 8. Times. 
MODERN ECONOMY OF TIME. 
THE JAPANESE PEASANTRY. 
persuade foreign officials that wages are high and 
produce dear. Such can hardly be the case. 
The evidence of plenty, or a sufficiency at least, 
everywhere meets the eye; cottages aud farm¬ 
houses are rarely seen our. of repair—in pleasant 
contrast to China, where everything is guiug to 
decay —public buildings and private dwellings 
alike, but more especially the former. The men 
aud women now (hey take to their clolhiDg, are 
well and comforrably clad, even the children, 
though there are two or three rejoicing in na¬ 
ture’s garb, having just rushed out of a vapor 
bath, and, Russian-like, facing the cold with 
impunity. In passing the door may be seen a 
black-mouthed matron, the mother, no doubt, of 
all these disreputable-looking little Cupids and 
Psyches (without their wings,) in precisely the 
same garb, musing as she looks unconcernedly 
THE BEST YOU CAN, 
WASHINGTON’S FARM MANAGEMENT. 
Never faint, halt or despair because you 
Cannot realize your ideal aud do the thing you 
■would. Only do the best you can, and no author¬ 
itative judgment shall condemn you. Your will 
may be equal to your ideal, while circumstances 
may raise an insuperable bar, for the time being, 
at least. How many persons make wreck of 
talent in sighing for opportunities to do other 
and more thau their circumstances warrant 
They disdain the low rounds of the ladder 
which most surely lead to the high. They have 
a notion of what is perfect accomplishment, and 
are unwilling to take any half-way, preliminary 
steps. They have no faith in the proverb, “half 
a loaf is better than no bread.” If they would 
study the record, they would soon learn that tho 
most famous winners of whole loaves were at the 
start willing and ready to take any slice they 
could get. Our true business in life is to make 
exercise tho faster wo breathe. If we breathe 
faster, we take much more air into the lungs; but 
it is the air we breathe which purifies the blood, 
and the more air wo take in, the more perfectly 
is that process performed; the purer the blood is, 
as everybody knows, tho better the health must 
be. Hence, when a person’s lungs are im¬ 
paired, be does not take in enough air for the 
want of the system; that being tho case, the air 
he does breathe should be the purest possible, 
which is out-door air. Hence, the more a con¬ 
sumptive stays in the house, the more certain and 
speedy is his death.— Hall's Journal of Health. 
the most of the means aud opportunities we 
have — not to neglect small advantages because 
we cannot have large ones. By cultivating the 
littles, we make it easier to compress the greatest. 
course ot ttie week, mciuuing me condition oi 
the stock, and the number of days work per¬ 
formed by each laborer. These reports were 
recorded in a book by the superintendent, who 
then sent the originals in a weekly letter to Gen, 
Washington. A weekly letter was returned— 
usually a letter of four pages, sometimes of twice 
that length, carefully prepared from a rough 
draft, then neatly transcribed by the writer; after 
which a press copy was taken. The rotation of 
crops in his numerous fields was arranged by 
himself for years beforehand. The culture of 
THE SERVICES OF MOISTURE IN AIR. 
One of the most curious and interesting of 
the recent discoveries of science is, that it is to 
the presence ol a very small proportion of watery 
vapor in our atmosphere—less than one-half o( 
one per cent,—that much of the beneficent effect 
of heat is due. The rays of heat sent forth from 
the earth alter it has been warmed by the sun 
would soon be lost in space, but for the wonder¬ 
ful absorbent properties of these molecules of 
aqueous vapor, which act with many thousand 
times the power of the atoms of oxygen and 
nitrogen of which the air is composed. By this 
means the beat, instead of being transmit'ed into 
infinitude as fast as produced, is stopped or 
dammed up and held back on its rapid course to 
furnish the necessary conditions of life and 
growth. Let the moisture be taken from the air 
but for a Biugla summer night, and the sun would 
rise next morning upon a “ world held fast in the 
iron grip of frost.” But the power of absorption 
A vkrv slight declivity suffices to give me 
running motion to water- Three inches per 
mile, in a smooth, straight channel, gives a 
velocity of about three miles an hour. The 
Ganges, which gathers the waters ol the Hima¬ 
laya Mountains, the loftiest in the world, is, at 
1,S00 miles from its rnouth, only about 800 feet 
above the level of the sea; and to fall these SOO 
feet in the loDg course requires more than a 
month. The great river Magdalena, in South 
America, running for 1,000 miles between two 
ridges of the Andes, falls only 500 feet in all that 
distance; above the cummencement of the 1,000 
miles, it lc seen descending In rapids and cata¬ 
racts from the mountains. The gigantic Rio de 
la Plata has so gentle a descent to the ocean 
that, in Paraguay, 1,500 miles from its mouth, 
large ships are seen which have sailed against 
the current, all the way by the force of the wind 
alone—that is to say, which on the beautiful 
inclined plane of the stream, have been grad¬ 
ually lifted by the south wind, and even against 
tho current, to elevation greater than that of our 
Don’t Tattle. — Children, don’t talk about 
each other. Don’t call one of your schoolmates 
ugly, another stingy, another cross, behind their 
backs. Itismeau. Even if they are ugly, stingy, 
or cross, it does you no good to repeat it. It 
makes you love to tel! of faults—it makes you 
uncharitable—your soul grows smaller —your 
heart loses Us generous blood when you tattle 
about your friends. Tell all Urn good you 
know about them, and carry the sins in your 
own heart, or else tell them to God, and ask 
Him to pardon them. That will be C hrist-like. 
If any body says to you, “O, that Mary Willis 
did Buch a naughty thing!” call to mind some 
virtue that Mary possesses, and hold it up to her 
praise. For your own sake, learn to make this a 
habit. 
Impatience.— In all evils which admit a reme¬ 
dy, Impatience should be avoided, because it 
wastes that time and attention in complaints which, 
if properly applied, might remove the cause. 
tinned. A short letter was written by him from 
Reading, and another from Carlisle, on hi? way 
Iu these letters 
to the rendezvous of the army, 
he mentions the appearance of buckwheat and 
