726 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
<fec., the other could hold a vase of flowers or any 
small ornament beside the clock. A newspaper 
portfolio was also improvised out of a large piece 
of pastebpard, which was covered with the same 
material as the lambrequins, then folded portfolio- 
wise and black silk cord sewed at the ends to rep¬ 
resent lacing. It. was edged all around with 
pinked strips of flannel, and finished In the center 
with a medallion made of an oval shaped piece of 
red flannel pinked around the edge, with a decal- 
comanla bunch of flowers In the center. This 
made a very pretty wall-pocket, and was hung 
under my clock sheir. c. e. j. 
“ Olldom,” Pa. 
--■ 
NEWSPAPER HYGIENE! 
An article on "Best as a Medicine” which appeared 
In a late Issue ol a widely circulated and much 
quoted fashion Journal contained the following : 
“ Here Is a capital tonic in tire form of a bath. 
Well lather the body with soap and water, from 
head to foot, by means of a bathing glove. Then 
Immediately after take a cold sponge-bath, which 
should be ready at hand. 
The bath should be taken the very first thing 
after getting out of bed, and If afterward a short 
walk be taken before breakfast, the sense of ex¬ 
hilaration will be very great.” 
It Is hardly possible to conceive of advice 
better calculated to Inflict misery on any one 
foolbh enough to follow it. if a person In 
robust health should pursue such a course for 
any length of time the result would be an In¬ 
creased susceptibility to atmospheric changes and 
a lowering of the tone of the system, but for in¬ 
valids—the class especially addressed In the ar¬ 
ticle—a bath and walk before breakfast would be 
slow murder, it seems to me about time to warn 
the public against acting on the hygienic recom¬ 
mendations published from time to time by the 
press. The regular stair of a newspaper does not 
usually Include a physician and the average editor 
is not especially wise about health matters, then 
why regard the journal as a trustworthy medical 
adviser ? Why not flDd out the tru th of the mat¬ 
ter for yourselves? Years ago such information 
was burled In large volumes of materia medlca, 
full of technicalities and perplexities to the unlu- 
ltlated, but now when two or three houses are pub¬ 
lishing “ health primers ” at 50 cents per volume, 
written by physicians—who are specialists In the 
subjects on which they treat—with a view to In¬ 
structing the laity on such Important topics as diet, 
bathing, ventilation and the diseases of different 
bodily organs why remain Ignorant or trust to 
chance newspaper articles for Information ? 
if celery is recommended for rheumatism or sage 
tea for promoting the growth of the hair, no harm 
will result from following these suggestions even 
though the desired result may not be attained, but 
when It comes to advocating the Indiscriminate 
use of Turkish baths, or baths generally, the press 
13 no longer a safe guide. 
We are not amphibious animals and yet one 
might Infer we were from the persistency with 
which we are urged to bathe, bathe, bathe. The 
morning plunge, the morning sponge and the 
shower are the form of bath torture, usually re¬ 
commended. 
The majority of the physicians are agreed that 
as a rule people bathe too much. A dfitly cleans¬ 
ing of some sort Is undeniably a necessity, but mak¬ 
ing a practice or spending is or 20 minutes in the 
water or sponging in cold water before breakfast so 
far from being conducive to health, depresses the 
vital energies, and develops latent tendencies to 
various forms of disease. 
in a series of “ toilette ” papers published In a 
popular Journal about three, years ago, great em¬ 
phasis was laid on the exhilarating effects of the 
Turkish bath, it was claimed that this form of 
bath, beautified the complexion, Improved the 
general health, and gave tone to the system. To 
my subsequent sorrow I read, believed and acted. 
A course of Turkish baths left me with so little 
vitality thatl could hardly drag myself across a 
room. I was not an invalid t<o start with and I 
took the baths only twice a week i l have seen them 
advised for dally use.) Turkish and Russian baths 
are undoubtedly useful but they should be taken 
only by the advice of a competent physician. 
The writer of these same paper* advises the fre¬ 
quent taking of warm baths, and the lying in them 
for many minutes so as to thoroughly open and 
cleanse the pores. Cleansing t he pores Is certainly 
most Decessary but the method hero prescribed is 
altogether too expen ive. No one- especially a 
woman or child—can afford to waste her energies 
and weaken her vitality by any such exhaustive 
process. And yet we must bathe, how and when Is 
It best to do so v 
I can not consistently answer these questions, 
for haH not, this whole article been devoted to con¬ 
demning anouymous contributions on health sub¬ 
jects? Those who are interested m these matters 
can very easily supply themselves with authentic 
Information If they care to do so. Jacquelina. 
A COMBINATION CONSERVATORY AND 
REFRIGERATOR. 
Dear Miss RirLEvThough somewhat tardy 
In acknowledging the pleasure It afforded me, yet 
now let me assure my young friend “Marian” that 
I am truly glad to form her acquaintance, and feel 
that we shall be firm friends. 
I approve of Marian’s mode of protecting vines 
from the chills of Winter—ns described In Woman's 
Department, August W>—and ir It were necessary, 
I should adopt It. But, fortunately, 1 have just 
had a conservatory completed, and as all oi my 
rare vines are on movable frames, I shall keep 
them in the conservatory with my Geraniums and 
other plants. 
Allow me to say a few words In regard to this 
conservatory, which Is built on rather a novel 
plan. Three sides are entirely exposed, while at 
the back it Is dug down ten feet below the surface, 
and a large room walled In, for keeping Ice. There 
are steps extending through the center of the con¬ 
servatory down Into this Ice apartment, so you 
see that I have a “cold”-house and a “hot”-house 
combined. 
T notice a great deal In your columns about 
training our daughters to work, every word of 
which I heartily endorse. Although, before the 
late war, I lived on a farm and had some sixty 
servants, yet all of my daughters were taught to 
perform the necessary duties of housekeeping. I 
told them that If they never had It to do them¬ 
selves, yet they ought to know when it was prop¬ 
erly done liy others. And now <when servants are 
so untrustworthy) they are all good housekeepers 
and thankful for their early training. But some 
of your lady correspondents have a “cross to bear” 
which 1 am happily spared, that Is, the trouble of 
keeping servants. Some of tho faithful ones of 
“old times” are still with me, have always been, 
and say they will always be, so long as I am will¬ 
ing. But to those housekeepers who are not so 
situated I offer my sincere sympathy, and If I 
could suggest any remedy for the great evil, I 
should bo more than happy to do so. Cannot 
some of the lady friends offer some suggestions for 
curing this prevalent source of domestic discom¬ 
fort? Mrs. T. J. B. 
-♦ ♦ ♦- 
AUTUMN LEAVES, HOUSE PLANTS AND 
STOCKINGS. 
Dear Mrss Rrri.Ev :—Now that fall is here, and 
there are so many autumn leaves to be had for tho 
picking, one can make a great many pretty things 
In the fancy line without Incurring any expense. 
Picture frames of autumn leaves made in the fol¬ 
lowing manner are extremely pretty: Make a 
frame of pasteboard, and sew on It leaves that 
have been pressed, covering the stem of one leaf 
with the next leaf. When hung upon the walls, 
these frames look very well. Fern and maple leaf 
decorations, bouquets of dried and crystallml 
grasses, wax flowers arranged In wreaths or clus¬ 
ters, all tend to make home bright and attractive. 
A few house plants are very pleasing to the eye 
when Winter has stripped the foliage from every 
bush and tree, and the presence of these In door 
plants reconciles one In a measure to the dreari¬ 
ness of winter. 
When one gets new stockings, she will find a 
great advantage In taking them, berore they are 
worn, and running the heels and toes with No. 21 
knitting yarn; they will wear much longer, 
D. A. Rea. 
-- 
Note.— The fashion article announced for this 
Issue has been postponed for one week to make 
room for the regular meeting of the Woman's 
Club.— Eds. 
THE FARMER’S WOOING. 
Thf. daisies nodded in the grass, tho buttercups were 
sleeping. 
And just across the river sang the farmers at their 
reaping; 
Upon tho hills, bo blue and far, the maple leaves were 
Bhowing 
Their soft white beauty in the breeze that from the 
sea was- blowing. 
A little maid came through the land with song and 
rippling laughter; 
The buttercups made way for her, tho daisies nodded 
after. 
A stroug young farmer saw her pause beside the 
parting river 
She drew a lily from its depth with golden heart 
a-quiver. 
“ Thou art more fair than lilies are,” Eaid he, with 
head uplifted. 
And threw a poppy, as the stream toward the maiden 
drifted. 
She set the flowers in her hair—the red and white to¬ 
gether : 
A cloud grow black before the sun, and rainy was the 
weather. 
He came across the river then, this farmer, from his 
mowing: 
He minded not the water’s depth, he cared not for its 
flowing. 
“dove!” said he, “if gleaming sun and cloudless 
skies o'erieau us; 
The river’B barring width may roll unpassed, untried 
between ua; 
But when loud thunder fills the air, and clouds and 
raiu come over, 
I'd cross the ocean to your side—I am no fair-day 
lover!” 
And so one noon the village bells rang out across the 
river. 
Their music set the buttercups and daisies all a-quiver, 
While some one drew a lily from tho stream so blithe¬ 
ly flowing. 
And plucked a blood-red poppy that amid tho wheat 
was growing; 
The maiden set them in her hair—the red and white 
together— 
With mmy a Bmile, a tear or two, and glances at the 
weather. 
They passed beneath the chapel’s shade—tho funner 
and the maiden— 
Whore arches crossed above their heads, with snowy 
blossoms laden, 
And iu that place of holy calm, the binding words 
were spoken; 
He in his heart bore out the truth, she on her hand 
the token. 
The years went by, and some wore bright and some 
were clouded over, 
But ever stood he at her side—he was no fair-day lover. 
[ ISoHtun Transcript.. 
-♦-*-♦- 
IN POLLY’S NET 
CHAPTER XV. 
(Continued from page 712.) 
“ YouDg lady,” said Sir David, gravely, «I can 
only repeat that, as far as I understand the 
aw of this land, yon are the wife of the man with 
whom you went to the Inn. I can repeat, also, 
that a court might, but, it Is Improbable, decide 
otherwise, and your only chance of that consists 
In the fact that there Is no writing to prove your 
Intentions or his.” 
“ But my oath,” faltered Jean. 
“His would contradict yours,” said Sir David 
calrnes, calmly. 
“But,” Jean then began, trying to speak very 
quietly: but her composure gave way, and she 
stretched out her hands to Sir David, and In a 
voice of agonized entreaty, she continued: “ Oh I 
sir, have pity on me. Think, for the sake of every 
one dear to you, and In very mercy recall your 
words. Ob’consider I was the promised wife of 
a man whom I love with my whole heart, and 
who loved me. is It likely that, such being the 
case, I would marry another ? For pity’s sakc-r” 
she sank on her knees by the table, her long, soft 
draperies falling around her. her arms thrown 
on the dark velvet cover—“ do not ruin my life 
and his! It Is not true, I cannot—I cannot he 
that man’s wire!” 
As she spoke her eyes turned to Andrew Blair’s 
race with an expression of contempt and disdain. 
He himself, silll standing by the table, looked 
at her compassionately. 
“I cannot recall my words,” said Sir David, 
more gently. “If this gentleman claims you as 
hts wife, I believe that you are legally married to 
him.” 
If he claims mo,” she repeated, faintly. “ But 
will he? Oh I Mr. Blair, you hear ?” she went on 
excitedly. “It lies In your hands. For Heaven's 
sake retract your claim, and—” 
“ Jean—Jean 1” said Lord Ivor, hoarsely. “ Not 
to him—not to him 1” 
Jean staggered to her feet once more, and stood 
looking in pitiable despair from Sir David to Mr. 
Blair; while the Earl’s heaving chest and flashing 
eyes showed how terrible Ills agitation was. 
Mr. Blair glanced significantly at his lawyer, 
and with a little embarassed cough Mr. Canilre 
spoke. 
“ It would be as Impossible for this gentleman 
to deny the marriage as It Is for you to do so, 
madam," he said. “ It Is impossible to foresee 
what circumstances may arise which would In the 
future urge you to plead this very marriage, which 
you now deny. Am I not right, sir David V 
“Quite right,” said Sir David, rather sadly, for 
Jean's terrible anguish and the Earl’s haggard, 
despairing face touched him, lawyer though he 
was. 
“ Besides,” continued Mr. Canilre, “ proof of this 
marriage exists In writing." 
An exclamation of surprise broke from Lord 
Sholto. In her confession Jean had forgotten the 
notes exchanged between her and Mr. Blair, and 
as the lawyer produced them the Eaxl leant for¬ 
ward eagerly. 
The little lawyer opened and smoothed them 
with his hand, then passed them over to Sir David, 
who took them and read them iu silence. 
“Are you aware or the contents ot these letters, 
my lord?” he said, when he had perused them. 
“No,” stammered Lord Sholto. “ Jean—Miss 
McLeod—mentioned no letters.” 
“Ah!” exclaimed Sir David, with a severe glance 
at Jean, which spoke volumes of reproof and some 
disdain. “Then, when 1 do so, you will see that 
no court, In the present state of Scotch law, could 
deny the marriage. Listen. This Is the note writ¬ 
ten by the man to the woman he has married: 
‘‘‘My Dear Little Wife:—I hope you have 
partly recovered your fatigue. When you are 
ready to receive me let me know, as 1 am anxious 
to seo how you are. Will you forgive me xor hav¬ 
ing taken such a liberty with your sketch-book ? 
Your affectionate husband, Andrew Blair.’ ” 
“And this," continued Sir David, putting down 
one note and taking up the other, “ is her reply 
“ ‘ Mr Dear Husband I am quite ready to re- 
celvo you, and I am anxious that you should see 
me In my charming toilet. Don’t apologise for 
using my paper. I thought that a wire’s property 
was less hers than her husband’s. You see 1 have 
a proper notion of what my prospective duties arc. 
Your affectionate wife, Jean.' ” 
“Jean wrote that!” said Lady Sholto. In sur¬ 
prise. 
“She does not deny it,” said Sir David, coldly. 
“ And, whatever your Indyshlp’s opinion may be 
I can hold but one. Sho may have repented for 
what she has done, but sho was a willing agent 
throughout.” 
Jean lifted her brown eyes with a touch of hau¬ 
teur, which faded almost immediately. 
“ The note was written In jest,” she said, feebly. 
Sir David shrugged Ills shoulders incredulously. 
“Iam sorry to appear discourteous to a lady," 
he said, quietly, “ hut I cauuot alter my opinion, 
and I am certain that any judge trying the case 
would hold the same." 
“Archie,” cried Jean, suddenly turning to him 
forthetlrst time, and stretching out her hands in 
an agony, “ surely you do not doubt me ?” 
Greatly as his faith was tried, deeply as he was 
suffering from her folly, his trust in her and his 
love for her shone undlniofrd situ. 
“No, love—no,” he said, instantly. Then he 
went a step forward. “Will not. Ignorance of the 
law affect the question, Sir David ?” 
“No, It has been decided otherwise,” said Sir 
David. 
“ Then all Is hopeless,” said Lady Sholto, burst¬ 
ing into a passion of tears. “ Oh! Archie—Archie, 
my brother!” 
“ Hush !” said her husband, imperatively, seeing 
that the Earl’S anguish was almost unbearable. 
Mr. Blair came slowly round the room towards 
Jean, who was standing perfectly still and mot ion¬ 
less, with a dull, calm despair, dreadlul to see, 
settling over her face. 
Lord Sholto pushed open one of the gloss doors 
leading on t-o the lawn, and led the Earl out, 
dumb, passive, unresisting; stricken to the earth 
by the blow which had fallen upon him. 
8)r ptivid and Mr. Gnntirc looked very muoh 
distressed and uncomfortable. Lady Sholto sob¬ 
bed passionately; but Jean stood as If turned to 
stone, with the same stupefied, submissive despair 
on her face. 
Mr. Blair moved forward, and put his hand 
gently on her arm; and at his touch the life camo 
suddenly into the stilt, carven face, which woke 
Into an expression of the most Intense horror and 
bitterest contempt. 
“ Do Dot, touch mo 1" sho said passionately, In a 
voice very unlike Jean McLeod’s—“ do not touch 
me t 1 loathe you! I hate you l” 
Mr. Blair sighed a patient sigh, which enlisted 
all sir David s sympathy. 
“You are speaking 10 your husband, madam,” 
be said, In a grave, reproof; and the anger died out 
of Jean’s face, and she turned her eyes to him with 
a dumb anguish In their depths. 
“ I forgot,” she said, slowly, “ Must I go with 
him?” 
“ He has a right to compel you,” was the quiet 
answer. 
Jean shuddered. 
“ Sir David,” spoke Mr. Blair, In a quick, ag¬ 
grieved tone, “ this Is Inexpressibly trying to me." 
1 ‘ I can well believe It,” Bald Sir David; and again 
Mr. Blair turned to his wife, for she was that, 
poor Jean ! 
This time she suffered his hand to rest upon her 
arm, but for a moment only; lor he had barely 
touched her when, like a woman shot through the 
heart, she fell, like a log, at his feet. 
CHAPTER XVI. 
THE MORNING AFTER. 
“It Is altogether a most unfortunate business,” 
said Sir David Calrnes, a few hours later. “ But 
your ladyship must excuse me for holding to my 
first opinion. Mr. Blair is an unusually fascinat¬ 
ing and excessively handsome man; and you your¬ 
self own that Miss McLeod was att racted to him 
on their first acquaintance. Indeed, her husband 
tells me that he himself overheard her say to Lord 
Ivor that ‘ she would marry Mr. Blair It she 
chose.’ ” 
“Yes, but she had been quarrelling with Ar¬ 
chie," said Lady Sholto, quickly. 
“ About some remonstrances be had made about 
her conduct with Mr. Blair,” said Sir David coolly. 
“No, no, Lady sholto, I am an old man, and my 
judgment Is calm and Impartial, my knowledge of 
human nature tolerably extensive, and I believe 
firmly that Miss McLeod married Mr. Blair, know¬ 
ing she married him ; and If she afterward re¬ 
pented, It was seeing your brother’s suffering and 
at the thought that she had lost a title.” 
“ You are prejudiced against poor Jeanle,” said 
Lady Sholto, sorrowfully. 
Sir David smiled, glancing down at tho little 
lady with a kind gtance In his cold blue eyes. 
“ Prejudiced,” he repeated. “ My dear child, Is 
that possible? I never saw her until to-day, I 
never hoard of her except as a very charming 
young lady to whom Lord Ivor was betrothed. 
How, then, could I be prejudiced against her? I 
look at things as they are, dear Lady Florence,” 
he wont on, gently. “Your kind heart and your 
affection for your brother and your friend are 
likely to lead you astray in your Judgment. Mr. 
Blair Is all that Is kind and considerate, also, In his 
dealing With bis wife, and, for my part, I think ho 
Is greatly to ho pitied.” 
“Oh! Sir David!” 
" I do, Indeed, Lady Sholto. nis wife is a woman 
of strong feelings, a woman who will hate well; 
and I foresee many a cloud on the sky of their do¬ 
mestic life." 
“Poor Jeanle!” sighed Lady Sholto. 
“And poor Mr. Blair,” smiled Sir David. “Has 
Mrs. Blair decided on leaving Sholto Hall?” asked 
Sir David, after a pause. 
“ Yes, she prefers going; sho says she cannot 
stay hero without her brain giving way,” said 
Lady Sholto, sadly. “And It Is better for Archie’s 
sake that they should go," 
‘•Poor fellow, whore is he?" 
“ With my husband,” said her ladyship, with a 
sttflled sob. “ They are in his study.” 
“How does bo bear It?” said the advocate, in a 
tone of sympathy. 
“He says nothing, or very little,”said Lady 
Sholto; “but, he looks unutterably wretched. Ar¬ 
thur says he dares not leave him. Oh 1 Sir Da rld, 
he loved her so passionately.” 
“Poor laddie,” said sir David, softly, “it Is 
hard for him; she has deserved her share.” 
“Oh, hush!” said Lady Sholto, passionately. 
“If you could see her, Sir David, you would think 
more gently of her.” 
And Lady Sholto’s thoughts flew to poor Jean, 
lying white and still on tho couch In her dressing- 
room, tearless and motionless, with no sign of life 
save the awful sadness and pathos In the great 
brown eyes. 
“They will not meet again,” said Sir David, In a 
moment. 
“Yes; Jean begged It, and Mr. Blair acceded 
to her request. To-morrow they are to say good¬ 
bye." 
“ When do the Blairs leave?” 
“To-moiTow. as soon as the shooting party have 
started,” said Lady Sholto, wearily, as she went 
back to the drawing-room to her duties as hostess, 
duties terribly Irksome just now, in her heaviness 
of heart, and the visitors, who had not failed to 
not ice that something unusual mu^t, have occurred 
to occasion the absence of the Earl and their host, 
and Miss McLeod’s Indisposition, were on the qui 
rice of curiosity and expectation, 
“ Thank goodness t hat this party breaks up In a 
day or two,” said Lady Sholto to herself, escaping 
from the drawing-room for a moment, and going 
swiftly along the passages to a small room Lord 
Sholto reserved exclusively for himself. 
In answer to Lady Nholio'a knock, her husband 
opened the door, and, seeing who it was, put out 
hla hand and drawing her to him kissed her in 
pllenco, closing tho door carefully after jier; and 
