738 
OCT 38 
jest now, and the Square, he’s as handy a 
young feller as you’d find in a day’s march— 
or a week’s, for that matter: an’ if you want 
me a day or two, I kin get off eny time.” 
“Thank you kindly, Mr. Jonkins. Barley 
left me a shed full of wood, and I’ve plenty; 
but I thank you all the same. Now don’t for¬ 
get; a piut of water for the balm and a quai t 
for the chamomile, and take the balm tea hot 
and the chamomile cold. Good-bye, and 
thank ye.” 
“ A quart for the barm and a pint for the 
chammermile; and take the chammermile 
hot and the barm cold. I won’t forget that. 
Mebbe I may want the tra-h some day; phy¬ 
sic never agreed with me, that’s a fact,” said 
Jnbcz, as he returned home. “Now, Jabez, 
keep yer eye skinned; the wjdiler’s sot her 
mind on ter this thing, an’ if I go and mux 
things up, she’ll worry like all posseBt. 
So she don’t watch enny more.... Poor woman, 
she don’t know how she’s been watched, too.. 
How I’d like to tell the hull story; but Josiah 
knows better’n I do, an’ he sez keep dark for 
the present, hoping the boy’ll get cured. 
Now If he could only get him to Bostiog, to 
the big doctor’s there, they’d take the top of 
his head off and set things right inside, and 
put it on agin, and hev the boy as right as a 
Square in no time. But as Josiah sez, he 
wunt come.... Wei l, dash my buttons! But 
why can’t the doctor go there to him, if he 
can’t come here ?... .There’s the wrinkle fer 
ye to smooth out, Jabez_Let's see.... There’s 
lots of time; I’ll jest arger that, as the law¬ 
yers say.” 
And J abez sat upon the fence and pulled off 
a big splinter for a stake, took out his jack¬ 
knife, whet it upon the sole of his boot, and 
began his cogitations. 
“ Lenime see; here’s the case. Why can’t 
we get this Bostiog doctor up, to fix Barley’s 
cracked skull ? That’s the question afore the 
corkiss, as I onderstand it; bein’s we can’t get 
Barley down to Bosting. I’ve beam tell of 
the man as wanted to get on to a mountain, 
and couldn’t go to it; so he ups and brings the 
mountain to him. That’s the idee—exactly. 
Mebbe it would be as hard to bring Mount 
Turn over into this valley, as bring a Bosting 
doctor into Michergan, but money’ll do any¬ 
thing, if it’ll bore through the Hoosac mount¬ 
ain, and they do say that’s to be done right 
off. Well, let’s pass that motion anyhow; 
seconded and carried, that we kin get the 
Bosting doctor out there. Tbet’s so. 
Now then, howMost enybody’ll do some¬ 
thin’ for some money. I guess a A 1 doctor’ll 
want about fifty dollars for a job like that; 
they don’t git such a one every day... .Well, 
it’s seconded and carried unanimus, there’s 
money enough, and to spare, for two or three 
on ’em. Thirdly, who’s the doctor ?.. I hev it!” 
And Jabez slashed off the last shaving 
from his stick, put his knife in his pocket, 
slapped his pocket where his jack-knife lay, 
slowly got off the fence, bit a huge piece off 
from a plug of tobacco, and said: “Yes, sir- 
ree, 1 hev it. I’ll tell the hull story to Miss 
Emily, an’ I warrant she’ll find the doctor, 
if it’s only for the sake of Patience Bartlett; 
for she thinks the world-’u-all of Miss Pa¬ 
tience; and between you and me and the 
lamp-post, Jabez, that likely young doctor ’a 
was there last week, ’d go further than Micher¬ 
gan, or Checawgo either, to please Miss Emily; 
or else my eyes is deceivin’ me more’n a little.” 
“ Yes, Jabez, that’s the tack to work on;” 
and the keen black eyes twinkled as Jabez 
hurried homewards, evidently pleased at the 
outcome of his “ argerment.” 
It was a few days previous to this, on a 
pleasant Sunday afternoon, that Emily Bates 
and her brother had sauntered across the 
fields to a corner of the farm where a huge 
chestnut tree overhung the fence, and a shelv¬ 
ing rock, which was crowned with festoons of 
Virgiuia oreeper that drooped like a curtain 
over the front, lay right in the fence row. A 
few scattered boulders had been arranged to 
form seats, and from these a view of the whole 
valley could be had, up the slope on one hand, 
and down to the brook on the other, the Stony 
Brook farms lying below, mapped out into 
fields and pastures, with the homesteads in 
the center, and over them the wooded hills 
and the broad gap in them through which 
glimpses of the lower valley could be seen. 
It was the corner where the Stone House farm 
and the low Stony Brook farm came together; 
the lowest point of one and the highest point 
of the other, the fence being the dividing line. 
(To be continued.) 
--. 
SLEEPLESSNESS. 
Some of Its Causes. 
Pakt I. 
What a true blessing healthy sleep is! What 
perfect rest for that overworked and over¬ 
taxed body; what, peaceful oblivion to that 
anxious and over worried brain! 
But are we truly thankful for this marvel¬ 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
ous sleep, without which our brain would soon 
be unable to use its wonderful physiological 
powers and our muscular organism would soon 
strike work! Iam afraid not; I fear we do 
not even give it a thought of gratitude, until 
we have to exclaim, in those common com¬ 
plaining tones, “I’ve had such a restless night!” 
And yet how often, if we ask ourselves the 
cause of this restless night, may we trace it 
to some omission or commission on our part, 
requiring no medical treatment whatever, but 
simply self-control. 
In the first place, then, what is this life-giv¬ 
ing, health influencing sleep f Is it a mere 
acquired habit, or is it a positive physiological 
necessity for the continuance of life and 
health i Surely the latter; and experience 
must tell each one of us how little we can do 
without it, and how necessary it is that we 
should keep strictly- to those laws of health by 
which we may bo enabled, to a certain ex¬ 
tent, to insure sound and perfect sleep. 
True, natural sleep is a simple vital state of 
physiological rest, during which time all pow¬ 
ers of animal life are suspended, every thought 
is hushed, and perfect rest is the result; but 
let the brain l»e overtaxed, let the mind be 
worried or preoccupied, or continued errors 
in diet be committed and other hygienic laws 
be broken, then the sleep is no longer of a 
healthy nature, the rest is not so perfect, and 
is continually disturbed by internal irrita¬ 
tions. Let these causes be intensified, or let 
actual pain exist, then even the mere un¬ 
healthy sleep is absent, and actual sleepless¬ 
ness is the inevitable result. 
There can, 1 think, be no doubt that diet¬ 
etic errors are not only the originators, but 
also the exciting causes of most cases of wake 
fulness. These errors do not only consist of 
taking improper and indigestible food, but 
also, and to a great extent, of irregularity in 
taking the meals, of imperfect mastication, 
of over eating, and of too rapid swallowing 
of food. 
The constant cause of sleeplessness in young 
infants can generally be traced to over-feed¬ 
ing, conducing to intestinal irritation, and 
sometimes leading to convulsions, often of a 
fatal character. 
As to the proper time for sleep, nature and 
experience have clearly pointed out that the 
nignt is the period during which sleep should 
be obtained; and it ha6 further been found 
that the sleep procured the hours before mid¬ 
night is the most healthful and life-giving. 
It has been said, and with a certain degree 
of assurance, that no one who wants to keep 
in perfect health should retire to bed later 
than ten at night, and should be out of bed as 
the lark rises; but 1 doubt, whatever induce¬ 
ments may be held out, whether we could 
obtain many followers of this rule. 
And now let me give you some few hints by 
which you many often be enabled to gain that 
moBt desirable boon—a perfectly natural 
night’s rest, free from dreams and nightmares, 
allowing you to wake ready for your day’s 
work, refreshed, invigorated, and with re¬ 
newed energies. 
In the first place then, keep yourself free, 
as far as possible, from that fatal enemy of 
sleep, indigestion, by the Btrict adherence to 
those laws of diet which in these days of run¬ 
ning after knowledge must be familiar to all 
of you. Take care that you abstain from 
those unhealthy and sleep depriving heavy 
suppers; though there can be no harm in 
having a light meal of some plainly-cooked' 
and nutritious food some little time before 
bedtime; in fact, in many cases of wakefulness 
in debilitated or even we kly persons, such a 
meal rather predisposes to sleep. Whatever 
iB taken at the time should be easy of digestion 
and not likely in any way to irritate the 
stomach, and should be taken in a moderate 
quantity. 
Exercise, and exercise in the open air, is 
absolutely necessary for the preservation of 
healthy sleep, and among the women of our 
poorer classes, more especially those living in 
our towns, th is is not thought of as it should be. 
The habit of sleeping after a meal, or in fact 
at any period during the daytime, unless the 
person be in ill-health, cannot be good, and 
must be, undoubtedly, injurious to the night’s 
rest; and although the evil effects of this 
habit may not become immediately apparent, 
they will sooner or later surely result. 
For those who find that they cannot go to 
sleep on going to bed, and who consequently 
lie awake running over in their mind the 
doings of the day just passed, and planning 
out various conjectures for the future, or pos¬ 
sibly heaping up in that poor overtaxed brain 
which is longiug for rest all the worries and 
trouble* that have come upon them for some 
time past, looking at the future through the 
most darkened glass possible, thereby still 
further preventing even the probability of 
sleep in any shape, 1 should ad vise some gentle 
occupation of the mind prior to retiring to 
rest—a game of chess, backgammon, or cards, , 
an hours Bocial conversation, or even a little 
reading when actually in bed, provided that 1 
it be not novel reading or anything equally 
exciting. To the unpolitical mind I can im¬ 
agine no surer soporific than steadily reading 
through one of the leading articles on the last 
debate, and I doubt whether my sleepless 
friend will ever succeed in quite getting to 
the end of one of these without falling into 
the arms of that god he has been striving to 
woo. A warm bath, again, is an excellent 
excitant of sleep, but I should hardly advise 
the repetition of this night after night. A 
good walk in the open air, extended to the 
point of inducing a slight feeling of fatigue, 
is often productive of a good night’s rest. 
N APERY—DIRECTIONS FOR USING, etc. 
Some one in Harper’s Bazar gives the fol¬ 
lowing instructions as to the use of napkins, 
for both fashionable and home tables. 
A soiled napkin should never be put on the 
table a second time. Therefore, the old insti¬ 
tution of napkin rings should be abandoned— 
sent to the nursery tea-table. 
Breakfast cloths of pink, yellow or drab are 
very pretty, with napkins to match, but after 
a few washings they Income dull in tint and 
are not as pretty as white, winch grow whiter 
with every Summer’s bleaching. 
The napkins m ide at Berlin with much 
drawn thread and knotted fringe and lace 
effects aro very luxurious. They are also 
made at the Decorative Art Society in New 
York, and are beautifully wrought with mou 
O ram and crest in red, white and blue thread. 
But no napkin is ever more thoroughly olo 
gaut than the plain damask, very thick, fine 
aud substantial, which comes out of the wash 
more pure and smooth for every cleansing. 
Large white napkins ore invariably used at 
luncheon, and the smaller ones kept for break¬ 
fast aud tea. Some ladies like the little 
fringed napkins for tea, but they do not do up 
well unless you have a very careful laundress. 
Never pin your napkin up about your chin; 
lay it across your lap, convenient to the hand, 
and lift one corner only to w r ipe the mouth. 
Men who wear a moustache are permitted to 
saw the mouth with the napkin, as if it were 
a bearing rein, but for ladies that would look 
too masculine. 
Too much starch should never be put in 
napkins. No one wishes to wipe a delicate 
mouth on a board, and a stiff napkin comes 
very near being a board. 
At a fashionable meal never fold a napkin 
but leave it beside the plate, as used. At a 
social tea or breakfast it can be folded if the 
hostess does so. 
Nothing takes away the appetite quicker 
than to have a napkin given to them that 
smells of grease. There is a laundry soap now 
in use which leaves a very unpleasant odor, 
and a napkin often smells strongly of it. 
Clean napkins should be laid away with 
some pleasant herb like lavender or sweet 
grass, or perhaps the old-fashioned sweet 
clover, that they may come to the table smell¬ 
ing of these deliciously fresh substances. 
Let every lady who aspires to elegant house¬ 
keeping remember that she must never allow 
the same napkin to be put on her table twice. 
Once used, it must be sent to the wash before 
it comes on the table again. 
- - ♦ ♦- 
BOOKS AND MAGAZINES. 
History of Woman’s Suffrage. Illus¬ 
trated with steel engravings. Edited by 
Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Susan B. Anthony 
and Matilda Joslyn. Vol. II., pp. 952, 13 por¬ 
traits. Price, cloth, 85.00, sheep. $0.50 per 
volume. New York: Fowler & Wells, pub¬ 
lishers, 758 Broadway. 
The second volume of this work is now is¬ 
sued, and if the reading matter is not of gen¬ 
eral interest—and it should be—the fine steel 
portraits of some of the best women in our 
country is worth more than the price of the 
book. In this volume the fine face of Anna 
Dickinson forms the frontispiece; the sweet, 
gentle, though firm face of Clemence S. Lo¬ 
zier, M. D., who is well known and much be¬ 
loved; Clara Barton, the strong, true friend 
of humanity generally, and of the soldier par¬ 
ticularly, as hundreds can attest to that were 
in the war of 20 years ago; Isabella Beecher 
Hooker, Lucy Stone and others; 13 in all. 
The magnitude of this subject has proved 
great enough to necessitate adding one more 
volume, which is promised for 1SS4. 
How to Keep a Store. Embodying the 
conclusions of more than 80 years’ experience 
in merchandizing. lly Samuel H. Terry. 
12mo, 4(if) pages, extra cloth, price $1.50. New 
York: Fowler &• Wells, publishers, 758 Broad¬ 
way. This is a work occupy iug a field peculiar¬ 
ly its own; as we know of no other publication 
on the general subject of retailing goods hav¬ 
ing been published. 
TnK Bodlky Grandchildren and their 
journey through Holland, by Horace Scudder. 
Published by Houghton, Mifflin & Co.,Boston, 
Price $1 50 The first series of five books 
were among the best ever issued for children. 
They aro finely and profusely illustrated, 
describing thereby the countries visited so 
accurately, that almost any traveler could 
follow, without making a mistake. This new 
series bids fair to equal the first. 
The American Boy's Handy Book; or, 
What to do and How to do it. By D. C # 
Beard. Cha«.Scribner’s Sons,Publishers. Price, 
$8. Just the book of all others for boys. Tells 
howto make kites of every kind; bows and 
arrows: fishing tackle; boats. How to catch 
fish and birds; also bow to stuff and preserve 
them, etc., etc. Howto make a puppet show, 
play charades, and in fact do anything that 
bovs ever want to. 
Maple Range —An Historical Romance of 
the Western Border, by Edna A. Barnard. 
12mo., 444 pages, cloth; side and back gold 
stamp. Pries, $t 25, Henry A. Sumner & Co., 
publishers. For sale by Baker, Pratt & Co., N. 
Y.City. TbiR is a romance with historical basis, 
teeming with incideuts—laughable, pathetic 
and tragic incidents of early jjioneer days. A 
bright, vivacious story of Maple Range, a 
beautiful frontier town of Minnesota. 
Drake, the Sea King of Devon, by Geo. M. 
Towle, Lee & Shepard Publishers, Price $1.25. 
This is the sixth volume of Young Folks 
Heroes of History, and is a good heal/by work 
which should be read by every boy that loves 
tales of the sea. 
The Story of Siegfried, by James Baldwin. 
Charles Scribner’s Sons, Publishers, Price 
$ l. 25. Another good work for girls and boys; 
a story of “old times,” well written aud 
illustrated. 
ior Women. 
CONDUCTED BY MISS RAY CLARK. 
SOMEBODY'S DARLING. 
Into a ward of the whitewash’d hulls. 
Where the dead and dying lay. 
Wounded by bayonets, shells, and balls. 
Somebody’s darling was borne one day— 
Somebody’s darling, so young and so brave. 
Wearing yet on his pule, sweet- face, 
Soon to be hid by the dust of the grave. 
The lingering light of his boyhood’s grace. 
Matted ami damp are the curls (if gold. 
Kissing the snow of t hat, fair young brow, 
Pale are the Ups of dll cate mould— 
Somebody’s darling Is dying now. 
Back from bis beautiful blue-veined brow 
Brush all the wandering waves of gold, 
Cross his bands on Ills bosom now, 
Somebody’s darling Is still and cold 
Kiss 1dm once for somebody’s sake, 
Murmur a prayer soft and low; 
On» bright curl from Its fair mates take. 
They were somebody’s pride you know; 
Somebody’s band bad rested there, 
Was it a mother’s, soft and white? 
And have the Bps of a sister fair 
Been baptized lu the waves of light? 
God knowH beBt; he hns somebody’s love; 
Somebody's heart enshrined him there; 
Somebody wafted his name above 
Night and morn on the wings of prayer. 
Somebody wept when he marched away. 
Looking so handsome, brave and grand; 
Somebody'« kiss on Ids forehead lay, 
Somebody clung to his parting hand. 
Somebody's waiting and watching for him— 
Yearning to hold him ngatn to their heart; 
And there he lies with his blue eyes dim, 
And the smiling, chtld-tlke Ups apart. 
Tenderly bury the fair young dead. 
Pausing to drop <>u his grave a tear; 
Carve on the wooden slab at Ids head- 
‘‘Somebody's darling t'lu.tibers here.” 
FASHTON CHIT-CHAT. 
There hns never been a time in the world’s 
history when more elegance of dress mater¬ 
ial, has been shown than at the present. 
All the gorgeous hues of the Fall foliage is 
reproduced in the richest of fabrics, until it 
would seem as though fairyland had been 
made realistic and that there was nothing left 
to be produced at any fulnre time. But with 
the onward march of science, will come the 
new Bbades of color in textures from looms 
of every clime, aud as in the days of Solomon’s 
Court, so in our day, everything in nature will 
be brought to bear upon the pressure of the call 
of this modern goddess, Fashion. For the 
benefit of the many who perhaps like ourselves, 
never expect to wear such costly clothing, 
we will visit some of our city stores, with you 
and talk about the goeds there displayed for 
the fortunate ones having abundance of this 
world’srichw* to purchase; but whocannot shut 
us out from admiring these beautiful things. 
On one counter is displayed in most artistic 
drapery, the magnificent brocades valued at 
from ten to fifty dollars per yard. The 
richest of carnations, lilies, eglantine, and 
Marecbal Nell roses on a black back-ground. 
Another piece having the brightest of Autumn 
tints for the ground work, upon which most 
marvelously wrought were loaves of the su¬ 
mach; and mingled profusely through the de¬ 
sign were threads of gold. Truly a most 
wonderful production I There were also the 
pure white brocades with flowers embroidered 
in seed pearl beads; cream color, with sprays 
of blue morning glorioa worked upon it; deli¬ 
cate pink having the design of rich Jaqueminot 
roses of natural size. Then we turn to an¬ 
other counter where is the display of silk 
