what was formerly known as Harlem Com¬ 
mons. much of which is now covered with 
buildings, and very valuable. The original 
patentees were the Covert. Bloat, and Yates 
families, and it is claimed that the city has no 
just title to the land; but that it rightfully be¬ 
longs to the decendants of these families, ami 
all of these, real or imaginary, on the male 
and female sides, whatever may l»e their names 
now, are invited to joiu the syndicate for the 
small sum of $ Hi apiece. To hurry them up a 
threat is made, to increase the charge to $100 
per head, later on. A number of names are 
given as those of the “Board of Trustees,” 
among them that of Cbm. Jno. C. Fremont, 
but som<- time back he repudiated all connec¬ 
tion with the scheme. Mention was made of 
the “enterprise” and claims in the papers here 
some time ago, and several reputable lawyers 
were ' interviewed” on the subject; but all 
laughed at. the notion that the claim would 
ever amount to anything. The Eye-Opener 
remembers at least a dozen such syndicates, 
each got up li.v a scheming lawyer outlie most 
nebulous claims to large properties in this 
country or in England, especially in the latter. 
Money was always collected from the mem¬ 
bers in various assessments as long as they 
were credulous enough to pay; hut in no sin¬ 
gle instance hn* any of their hopes been re¬ 
alized. We have had three letters of late with 
regard to this Harlem Sy ndicate, which shows 
that its lines for gudgeons are cast iu many 
places. 
We do not recommend the remedy for “fits” 
advertised by F. ft. Root, of this city. Epil¬ 
epsy, which produces these convulsions, has so 
many diffe rent forms that medical men find 
it impossible to give a definition of it. There 
are numerous known causes of it. and proba¬ 
bly some still unknown. As in most, of the 
nervous diseases, there is a hereditary ten¬ 
dency to it in the offspring of persons who 
have had that or various other nervous com¬ 
plaints. such as insanity, paralysis, apoplexy 
or hysteria, etc. Various malformations of 
the body, and especially of the cranium, are 
among the most frequent predisposing causes; 
so are dentition, self-abuse and the use of al¬ 
coholic drinks. Various diseases, especially 
those in which the blood becomes altered or 
diminished, and organic affections of the ner¬ 
vous system, as well as excessive loss of blood, 
a wound, a burn, worms in the bowels, stone 
in the bladder, etc., etc., have all frequently 
reduced it; while mental excitement is 
nowm to have often caused it. Complaints 
peculiar Gh woman also frequently occasion it. 
For treatment, the first thing to be done is to 
find out the cause, and to try to get rid of it, 
if it still exists. Often it depends on external 
causes of irritation, which may be easily re¬ 
moved, and these should bo carefully sought 
for,as the pa t ient is generally not a ware of them. 
For no other disease has a greater number of 
“cures” been vaunted and found useless. The 
metallic salts, especially those of zinc, silver 
and arsenic, are much employed in advertised 
specifies, and sometimes produce good effects; 
but they cannot be used long, as they would 
injure the health. Bebadona aud bromide of 
potassium are the most serviceable remedies, 
and it is much safer and cheaper in the end to 
have these prescribed by a good, local physi¬ 
cian than to take them “blindly” iu a nostrum 
put up for sale aud not for anybody in par¬ 
ticular. Bromide of potassium in 10 to 30 
grain doses, taken three times a day, will pro¬ 
duce better results as regards the severity and 
frequency of the attacks, than any advertised 
nostrum; but before taking it a physician 
should lie consulted. In some cases uo remedy 
will ever relieve the patient; in most cases no 
remedy w ill do more. “Cures for all cases” 
must be humbugs. 
lUcnnan’s \Uovk. 
CONDUCTED BY EMILY L. TAPLIN. 
MY HUSBAND’S SHIRT. 
I’m afraid you may think him a dandy 
Ami mention It, to his disgrace. 
When 1 tell you the f ont wok embroidered 
And the neck ami sleeves I rimmed with soft lace. 
■•But 1 Ironed It with such a feeling 
As never possessed me before. 
Though I’d lauiidrled ins shirts, a full hundred, 
Ami made them for him by The score. 
But. tenderly benflitig o'er thisone, 
I said “blertB his heart,” and -’sweet boy,” 
And smoothing the iaee uu the ueek-baml, 
I lingered a minute to toy 
With the frill as it lay on my finger, 
Aud (though you may tliluk I was “soft,”) 
I pressed two quick kisses Upon Jl, 
And laughingly held It aloft. 
I know wives don’t usually tio so, 
When Ironing shirts for their lords; 
They’re more apt to Indulge lu a tantrum 
Or tirade, o’er their Iroulug boards. 
But list, aud I’ll tel) you the secret, 
And you'll sympathize with me I know, 
As one Woman Will with another. 
If she the “white feather'' wilt show. 
My little girl up to her (Irammy’s, 
Was staying, the morning before, 
And while she was ruuiagiug.ehild-like, 
’Midst some iludslu an old bureau drawer, 
She cuprumd a shirt which her papa, 
When he was a babv, had worn. 
And begged it 10 rig up her dolly; 
Ami as U was wrinkled and torn. 
Returned home, she said. ’ 'M am in q wash it,” 
Ami so in 1 did Her behest. 
And thought how my terrible giant 
Within its wee size had been pressed. 
Do you womler 1 said “bless his heart,” as 
Mv fancy presented to view, 
A miniature phrase or the monster 
Who now measures Just six feci two? 
— Virginia C. Hollis in doorl Housekeeping. 
POINTS FROM MANY PENS. 
Silver “grape tongs” are a novelty in table 
ware. They are slipped over the forefinger 
and thumb when eating asparagus or bon¬ 
bons. 
Silver coru-shellers are a new and pretty 
wedding gift, removing the impossibility of 
eating corn on the ear gracefully. They 
may be purchased singly or in sets. 
The rolling-pin key-holder has now made 
way for the potato masher, to be devoted t 
the same use. This utensil is gilded, tied up 
with ribbon and finished with four brass 
hooks screwed in at any desired angle. 
An appropriate companion to the above is a 
match-scraper in the form of a gilded, minia¬ 
ture washboard. Probably the next thing in 
“art” decoration will lie mi antique gridiron 
adorned with tissue-paper flowers. 
Tissue-paper flowers, though flimsy, are 
not by any means to be despised. When well 
made, they are astonishingly real in ap¬ 
pearance and make a most effective decora¬ 
tion. A package containing vari-colored 
paper, rubber stems, gum and working uten¬ 
sils, and instruction book is offered for sale at 
many decorative art stores. 
Fans, covered with one immense paper pond 
lily, are effective for wall decoration, while 
porcelain lamp shades are often covered with 
a mass of these flowers, mingled with natural 
ferus pressed and varnished. The newest 
fringe or bordering in decoration is exactly 
like crimped-tape mourning fringe, save in 
color; it comes iu all the ilaiuty hues now in 
favor. It makes a charming border for up¬ 
holstered gipsy tables, and is much used on 
Moorish table scarfs. 
A pretty paper holder or wall pocket is 
made from “tea-matting,” the fabric used in 
wrapping tea boxes. The material is bound 
with ribbon of harmonizing hue; the lower 
part turned up pocket-fashion, with a bow of 
mingled ribbons on each side. One upper 
corner is turned down slanting with another 
bow, and some odd design is painted across 
t he top in metallic colors. The word “Papers” 
is painted across the pocket in eccentric 
letters. 
The Health Department of the W. C. 
T. U. has prepared a course of study 
embracing two years’ work, which will prove 
of great value uud interest to women. The 
first year’s course is the “Relation of Health 
to the individual,” relating to physiology, an¬ 
atomy and hygiene; the second, the “Relation 
of Health to the Family.” giving most thor¬ 
ough knowledge of sanitary and hygienic 
housekeeping in every department. It is a 
mast useful course to every woman striving 
for a higher level in her household. 
THE WORTH OF EARLY LESSONS. 
While spending a few days at the house of 
a relative, I saw one of her daughters, a girl 
of 11, making a doll’s bonnet out of a bit of 
blue silk. It looked so wasteful to my narrow 
mental vision that I ca lled her mothers atten¬ 
tion to it. “Oh, Cousin Delia” I said, “Your 
Anua is cutting up a piece of good silk to make 
a nallry bonnet for her doll. It is a lovely 
piece to put into your crazy quilt.” “I’m not 
puzzling my head with crazy quilts yet. 
When I make one, it will be composed of 
clippings left by the children after cutting 
things for themselves and their dolls.” “But 
a scrap of any common stuff would do for the 
child to cut up for that silly thing,” I pleaded. 
My hostess looked amazed. “Amanda, the 
child is learning a lesson iu millinery that will 
benefit her iu life. I gave her leave ti > use that 
silk, aud I assure you it. will not be wasted. * 1 ' 
“But don’t you thiuk you are allowing her to 
waste good materials, for poor results? I 
should be afraid she woidd become extrava¬ 
gant.” As the youthful milliner was iu another 
room, our comments were not heard by her. 
Presently she catno in witli the diminutive 
bonnet, and showed it to her mother, who 
looked i(leased, aud sanl “you have made it 
well, Anna, in fact quite in the fashion.” The 
child’s face was radiant with pleasure. “Oh, 
mother' 1 she said, it fits dolly so nicely. I did 
not cut the silk at all, I turned it under here 
and there, so that I can use it for something 
else,” and she skipped away and left us. “She 
is ingenious, Delia, I must confess, but all 
girls of her age, cannot be trusted with nice 
materials to use.” Train them carefully Cous¬ 
in Amanda, and then they eau be trusted. 
Lay responsibility on children early, and you 
will inspire them with confidence in their own 
bility. It is real economy to teach girls to 
cut and make plain garments for themselves, 
aud no person will instruct them as |>utioutly 
as their mother. It is natural for t hem to 
like to do fancy work and no urging is requir¬ 
ed in that direction, although care must, be 
taken that each piece it finished before another 
is commenced.” sophia c. garrett. 
RECEPTION DAYS. 
zea mays. 
Why cannot farmers’ wives have reception 
days. I do not mean for intimate friends, or 
those from a distance; but for those good 
neighbors, who get their work done up after 
dinner, and taking work-bag on the arm, come 
to spend the afternoon and take tea. It would 
be quite au innovation—perhaps would cause 
some talk, even scandal! but what improve¬ 
ment it would be! Now one never knows when 
her privacy may be invaded by an uncongen¬ 
ial neighbor, or when, if her larder happens to 
be a little short, she tnay not be called upon to 
improvise a tea for au uninvited and critical 
guest. She may have planned for a quiet 
afternoon nap, or for a precious and long- 
coveted sit-down with a favorite author; no 
matter; she must entertain and be polite to 
one whom she wishes was iu Guinea. A re¬ 
ception day. don’t you see? would largely 
change all this, you could get your washing 
done on Monday or Tuesday, your ironing 
and mending finished, plenty of good bread 
baked, with light biscuit if you pleased, a cake 
or two, and a few pies if you use them, and 
having plenty of canned fruit aud butter, 
with perhaps dried beef or honey, if about 
Thursday or Friday, several of your neigh¬ 
bors happen to come in, you are ready for 
several hours social chat, and all you need do 
is to boil the tea-kettle, and suit your table- 
arrangements to your company. How differ¬ 
ent this from having to build a hot fire when 
you had thought your own family provided 
for, and go and bake warm biscuit aud cake, 
having first, possibly, to go and borrow flour 
or baking-powder of the nearest neighbor. It 
may uot be the best house-keeping to be out of 
these necessaries, but, nevertheless, people do 
get out. sometimes. A reception day for the 
little girls too, is quite a necessity where 
thoughtless neighbors allow their children to 
impose upon you. 
“THET NEW HOUSE.” 
ANTY VEE. 
Although I’m an old woman, yet I can see, 
andcau hear aud talk, aud I keep trottiu’ armin’ 
from house to house, and from cellar to garret 
all throughout this county, and into one or 
two adjoining ones, Now I must say I don’t 
like the way our houses are being built. The 
bed-rooms all on the second floor, and so small, 
too; I’d use ’em for corn cribs. You can't 
stand at the head and walk aroun’ to the tother 
ride of a common sized bedstid in one of ’em. 
And when you open your eyes, there the light 
is jest shinin’ right into ’em. Such close, 
leetle, unbearable bod-rooins! Ef I was goin, 
to build I’d have a bed-room at least four 
inches larger then the bed-stid. I believe men 
have a right to say all about the farm and 
bout the barns; but when it comes to the 
house, then it’s woman’s turn. Last week I 
was up to Barry’s, he who’s built a big, white 
house and green blinds. And he tuk mo over 
the hull of it, and he told me how much this 
cost, how thet was terribly dear, and thet “no 
other man in the county hed such a buildin’’ 
with so many improvements, aud thet the car¬ 
penter sed it. couldn’t be beet,” and all thet, 
etc., an so on. And sez I, “How duz the wife 
like this, and thixf" sez I, pintin’ frum one 
thing to another with my index linger. “Oh,” 
sed he, “thet’s the carpenter’s plans.” Well, 
when we’d got all around, and he sed he'd feed 
the teem, I walked straight on with him to¬ 
ward the bam, alul ufter we hed cleared the 
new house, sez I, “Barry, is thet house insured, 
insured for all it’s worth?” “Why,” sed he in 
great surprise. “’Cause,” sed I, “the furst 
thing I’d do would be to bum the whole durned 
thing to the ground.” Now Barry was a 
deacon, and I was a professed Christian, and 
my words stunned him like. Then he tuk my 
arm and led me back iuto thet house, aud sez 
he, “Bee what a great magnificent parlor!” 
“Aud see thet leetle smlch of a l>ed-room,” sez 1, 
“hardly room to squeeze a common sized bed¬ 
stid into it; aud you, a great, lumberin’ two- 
hundred-pouuder! I’d hev you sleep on a 
perch outside if you like a small place.” “Eh,” 
sez he, “I ginorally git to bed long before 
Susie comes. She’s meuiliu’ for me and the 
children, and then she don't mind about gettiu’ 
iu hack as she’s always timid and afeered 
burglars might come aroun'.” “Doesn’t take 
any courage to sit up and mend,” thought I, 
but I didn’t say anything about thet, ez my 
principle is to never, nr.rrr meddle. Ho agin 
culled my attention to thet “magnificent par¬ 
lor.” “Yes,” sez 1, “its big, treemeudous big, 
and not a thing in it! Blessed ef I wouldn’t 
put my bed up iu it and sleep there too.” 1 
could see .Susie’s eyes brighten, and I went it 
good and strong, and pin tod out u good meimy 
advantages, and how much they’d save and 
the doctor would lose. A day or two after I’d 
got home, a postal card curu, saying, “I hevn’t 
felt so rested in a long time ez I do tliis morn- 
in’. I slept so good last night in our bed thet 
Barry and I hev put up in the big parlor. 
Yours, Susie.” 
— - » » • - - 
REST AND HEALTH. 
The use of rest—absolute rest—as a health 
restorer is too much neglected, especially 
among those who really have the greatest 
need of it.” Tired nature’s sweet restorer, 
balmy sleep,” is indeed a great panacea, but 
it is not tbc otily one. Too often the tired 
house-mother keeps at her treadmill of domes¬ 
tic tasks until sleep is well-nigh impossible 
She lies down with every nerve at. loose ends, 
irritable and debilitated; small wonder that 
sleep only visits her by fits and starts. If an 
hour or two before bed-time is spent in simply 
resting, without any attempt, to exert either 
mind or body, she will regain three-fold in 
peaceful, dreamless sleep, awaking with new 
energy on the morrow. Of course, she may 
leave something undone—there are always 
loose buttons aud torn clothing to occupy the 
evening hum’s, but what are these compared 
with the mother’s precious health? Physi¬ 
cians lay much stress on the benefits resulting 
from change of occupation—thus a schoolgirl 
who studies four hours a day and busies her¬ 
self about the house another four hours, will 
learn much more rapidly than one who studies 
continuously eight hours. The same thing is 
true in domestic work; the woman who has 
other interests is pretty sure to be 
the brightest and most capable. She does 
not get into one narrow rut.. Experience 
in various charitable societies has shown 
the writer that the women who do the most 
work for other people, are always the most, 
notable housekeepers. “As thy days, so shall 
thy/strength be,” I am persuaded that the 
work we freely do for others reacts on our own 
personality giving us greater strength for our 
daily task. Miud, I don’t say that, every over¬ 
worked mother must rush into work she has 
uot strength for, only that every busy woman 
should have Something to think of besides her 
daily work, whether it is a new book, a flower 
garden, or clothing and sweet sympathy for the 
needy, we can all do something to make this 
world brighter. emma lkigh. 
Domestic Cccmotm) 
CONDUCTED BY MRS. AGNES E. M. CARMAN. 
AN AMATEUR COOKING CLUB. 
CAUSED BY THE WONDERFUL RECIPES OF THE 
RURAL. 
For the pari few weeks several of my girl 
friends have been holding secret meetings at 
each others’ houses ami congregating iu the 
kitchens, whence Bridget was summarily ban¬ 
ished and whence were presently heard to issue 
sounds of gay laughter. They have worn 
pretty blue badges with A. C. C. embroidered 
on iu old gold, and when asked the meaning 
of these mysterious hieroglyphics, they would 
mischievously reply: “Amiable Cheshire Cats.” 
The mystery was at an end when one day I 
received au invitation to a dinner given by 
the “Amateur Cooking Club.” It was a mar¬ 
vel of skillful cookery, each dainty dish hav¬ 
ing been prepared by a different member of 
the club. The menu is given below: 
Bisque of Lobster. 
Salmon Croquettes. 
Leg of Mutton bruised with Green Peas. 
Oyster omelet. 
Sweet Potato Fritters. 
Apple Cheese Cakes. 
Bisque of Lobster. —Remove the stomach, 
head and black vein from a boiled* lobster. 
Set. aside the meat from the tail and claws for 
a salad, and pound in a mortar all that re¬ 
mains, the small claws, the large shell aud all 
the matter found in it. Set n saueepau con¬ 
taining a tablespoonful of butter ou the fire; 
when the butter is melted put in the pounded 
lobster and stir for ten minutes with a wooden 
spoon, then add a quart of hot veal stock, and 
simmer slowly for !S) minutes. Strain, return 
to the fire, add a cup of hot cream that has 
boon thickened with u toospoonful of flour, 
the coral of the lobster, if any, which has 
been dried in the oven and jiounded fine, and 
half a cupful of little dice of the flesh of the 
lobster. Give one boil, season to taste and 
pour into a tureen over little dice of fried 
bread. “This quantity,” said the blushing 
author of the above delicacy, “is sufficient for 
eight persons aud was made from one good- 
sized lobster. A cupful of the meat still re¬ 
mains for a salad or cutlets or patties.” 
Salmon Croquettes. —Take one large cup¬ 
ful of cold, boiled salmon minced line. Work 
in a tablespoonful of melted butter, one beaten 
egg and a tea-spoonful each of lemon juice and 
anchovy sauce. Put these ingredients in a 
saucepan over a slow Are, and stir lu a half 
cup of sifted bread crumbs, salt, pepper and a 
bit of nutmeg, moistening with a gill of 
cream. Make into small, penr-shupod rolls, 
egg and bread crumb them, and fry in boil¬ 
ing dripping. Serve on a mound of mashed 
potatoes. They may be prepared in the 
morning and kept in a cool place until you 
are ready to fry them. 
Leg of Mutton Braised.— “One cannot 
live on delicacies alone,” said the pretty 
girl who dispensed this dish, “and it has fal¬ 
len to me to prc|»are this substantial 
but 1 hope tasteful dish. Have the butcher 
bone a leg of mutton and tie it in shape. Brown 
it iu a steWpuu with a little butter, aud when 
it takes a good color add u pint of water, lialf- 
n-dozen button onions, four small French car¬ 
rots, and salt aud pepper, uml simmer slowly 
for six hours, turning frequently the while. 
Place on a hot dish, free the gravy from the 
grease, thicken it with a little flour, arid a 
