OVER THE TUBS. :2 Up from thalaundry, all day long. , Comes the croo‘n of a little song: . Low and plaintive. its measures seem To rise and melt with the wreaths of steam. Mrs. McGill in the mist below. Keeping the linen. snow on snow. Sings’ at her task as the moments fly: Still as the hours go by, ,0»; Mrs. McGill, over the tubs. " Scrubs and washes. washes and scrubs. ’ Bare are her strong arms: rough and red Her hands, withstriving for daily bread. While she works in the steam and foam, Thoughts of the “childer,” left at home. Come to cheer her, till. after all, The day seems short and the washing small: For mother love. with tender spell. ls working its ceaseless miracle; , While Mrs. McGill. over the tubs, Shrubs and washes. washes and scrubs. Down through the areaway there floats The cry of the newsboy. strident notes _ Telling how on a field of fame A warrior won him a hero's name; The sailors clung to a reeling deck & And served the guns of a shattered wreck: A hero mounted the ladder tall, And plucked a life from the flaming wall; \Vhile Mrs. McGill. over the tubs. ’ Scrubs and washes. washes and scrubs. Six o’clock! And the music swells Loud from the threats of a thousand bell“ So at last, when the shadows fall. She draws about her a faded shawl. While sweet content in the rough. worn face Kindles a brighter than beauty’s grace. Home she hastes, where the long day through The little ones watched and waited. too, While Mrs. McGill. over the tubs, Scrubs and washes. washes and scrubs. Mrs. McGill, your humble name Has no place in the rolls of fame. Little it matters to such as you: - ' Brief the page is, the names are few 3 Still I know that your faithful love Finds a place in the scroll above. So when my heart grows weak and faint, This is the thought that stops complaint; Mrs. McGill, over the tubs, Scrubs and washes, washes and scrubs. ‘ —Youth‘s Compansion. A JEALOUS HUSBAND. Scene—Breakfast room in riverside residence, at Datchet. Time—8.30 A. M. Mr. and Mrs. King break« fasting. \He—Suppose I must be off to catch my train. It’s an infernal nuisance having to start so early! I can’t see what on earth you persisted in taking this tumble-down old shanty this sum- mer for, my dear.” She—Why. Jim, it’s got all the latest improvements, and you were just as keen on taking it as I was at first. He—Yes; that was when I fondly hoped that we might have it to our- selves. But look at the mob of .people always here—chiefly your admirers. Monday I came home and found that rounder. Royston, here-— She (interrupting)—Rounder! Why, I thought he was your greatest friend, and he brought the girl he wants to marry with him. He (ironically)-—Girl he wants to marry? Not much! He’s too fond of all women to want to marry. one. ’ On Tuesday Brown and Jones were having tea with you when I got home before my regular time. ' She—And their sisters. He—well, they didn’t come here to see their sisters. Wednesday that ass Seymour would stay to dinner, and to- day when I get back no doubt I shall find three or four others. , I tell you, Cissy, it’s disgraceful! I won’t have it; you’re an old married woman now, and— She (indignantly)—Jim, you’re a beast! You know I’m only twenty- five! He—I don’t mean in point of age; but we’ve been married four years, and it’s not the thing for a married woman to flirt as you do. She—Jim. don’t be absurd; I don’t flirt; but surely you wouldn’t have me otherwise than civil to your friends? He—Your ideas of civility and mine don’t agree," Cissy. You needn’t carry your civility to Royston to the point of letting him punt you about the river all the afternoon and lunch and tea here every other day, and I’m sure I saw Brown try to kiss your hand on Tuesday. She—It’s useless, I know, to try and convince you that all these accusations are quite unfounded, and that all the attention and devotion you imagine I receive frbm these various individuals exist only in your fertile imagination; but there’s John with the cart, and you have barely time to catch your train. Now don’t be a silly boy; you know I don’t care a strap for any one but you. Do try and give up these jealous fan- was. He—Well, darling, I will. I’do be- lieve you only care for me, but you’ve such a'deucedly kind way of lokoing at fellows (kisses her). Good by, old girl! By the way, what are you going to do to- day? She—I’m expecting Kitty Clover to spend the day. lie—That’s all right; then you won’t - be aIOne; I’ll be home about 6 o’clock. She (watchsng him drive olf)—Dear old Jim! He won’t see how fond I am of him; it’s such a pity he’s so jealous. It makes him miserable for nothing. and worries me, too. It is funny that when a man is fond of a woman him- self 'he always imagines that every other man is in love with her, half as a. tribute to his own vanity, I believe! Let me see: it’s only 8.45. and Kitty can’t be here before lunch time. I think I’ll drive over to the Browns when the cart comes back from the station. Susie . and her brother might as well come to lunch, and then he can punt us up to the willows for tea this afternoOn. Scene—Lunch time in a crowded city restaurant, busy city men of all sorts and gescriptions fighting for food at the buffet; others at numerous small tables a trifle less hurriedly discussing chops and bitter, etc; at one of these latter King and an el- derly man are just finishing a. hasty meal. ' ‘ King-Lovely day. isn’t it, Clover? - Beastly shame to waste it in this stew- ing city! ' Clover—Yes, indeed; I hardly ex- pected to see you up to-day; Kitty told me this morning she was going to a luncheon party at yOur cottage up the river, and I understood you were to be at home. ‘ w E n K/f'LVIY - KIN on Winn K ‘- ‘G szn TT E. . hing \with dificnlty controlling his agitation)——Oh, I was obliged to run up this morning; but I saide’d be back quite early; must be off now. , ' Clover—Kitty didn’t say for certain who was to be there, but I think I heard her mention Royston and—- King—Yes, of course, quite right: good morning; must rush off. (Does so, smothering strong words.) Scene—Hall in the cottage at Datchet. Time—about 8.30 P. M. King en- ters hurriedly, hot and dusty, hav- ing walked'two miles from the sta- tion, calls, “Jane! Jane l—where the deuce is the girl? Jane !” ‘ Jane (neat housemaid, runs in from back premises rather red in the face and flustered in manner, having been interrupted in a pramising flirtation with the local milkman)—Oh, sir, why you are home early! Missis will be sorry—I mean glad, and—— King (suspiciously)—-—What the devil do you mean, girl, and where .is your mistress? J ans—Why, sir, they’re all gone on the river just a quarter of an hour ago, sir, and 'missis said the trap was to go to meet the 5.40 train for you, and they won’t be back before 6 any’ow, ’cos they’ve took tea and all with ’em. You do look tired, sir; shallI get you a whis- ky and soda, sir? King -(irritably)—'—No, no; stay, yes, have they gone? and did they take both boats? Jane—Yes, sir; Miss Clover and Mr. Brown in the rowing boat, and missis and Mr. Royston and Miss Brown in the punt; and I did hear missis say to Miss Brown to punt up to the larches. King—Oh, very well; never mind the whisky and soda; I’m going to’ the sta- bles first, and I will have one when I come in. (Exit) - Jane—May the Lord forgive me! I’ve told him a' fib; they was going to the willers; but with master in the jealous rage, as I could see he was, there’s no like that. Lor’. I wouldn’t be in mis- sis’s shoes to-night, not for nuts, I wouldn’t. Scene—Lawn at back of cottage leading to the river. Time—Some ,two or three hours later. King reading underatree near the water. Mrs. King and party arriving at the land- ing stage. . King (watching them, unseen him- self)—~I knew it; Cissy and Royston in the skiff alone, and she told me nothing about expecting him to—day; and that girl Jane told me she was in the punt with Miss Brown. She’s in league with her mistress; this decides it. Miss K. (suddenly sees him)—Why, here’s Jim home before us; how jolly! (Runs across lawn to him.) What time did you get back. dear? ‘ King—Time enough to find you out in the pack of infamous and cunning lies ‘»you told me (this. morning, mad- ~am;- but I’ve been your dupe long enough. It is all over now; you shall hear from my solicitor in the morning; meanwhile I have the pleasure of bid- ding you good by forever. . Mrs. K.-Are you mad, Jim? Don’t you see our friends? King—Your friends! I wish Mr. Royston joy of his conquest, I’m sure. Mrs. H.—Well. however you found it outI don’t know, for they only settled it on their way down here today; but (turning to the others) I believe I’m not committing a serious breach of confi- dence in telling you all that my dear old chum Kitty Clover is going to marry Mr. Royston, and there’s no reason to be so tragic about it, Jim? King—Is this true, Royston? Mr. R.——Quite true; and but for Mrs. King’s kindness to us and good offices with Kitty’s father I might not have been so happy. King—I congratulate you both. (Aside) Infernal old fool Clover is! (Takes Mrs. King apart.) Cissy, can you ever forgive me? I am an unmiti- gated, ruffian, but I will be different in future.—St. Panl. Queen Victoria’s Busy Days. Most people have an idea that royalty has an easy time of it. but the fact is that kings and queens, even in times of peace. are almost as hard worked as day laborers. last year had to attend to some 50,000 documents. She practically never has a holiday while at Buckingham or Windsor._ She rises at 7.30; at‘ eight she has prayers, and half an hour later breakfast, and then works with her ,v secretary steadily for five hours and a. half, until 2 o’clock. . Sometimes she has been called up in the ! middle of the night owing to some ur- gent State paper requiring her signa- ture. , - Maceo \Vas After Senator Sherman. Jose Maceo, the Cuban general, when he was a mountain bandit, plotted the capture of John Shermcn while the Sen- ator was making a. tour through Cuba some years ago. It was intended to seize him, carry him 013'? into the moun- tains, and hold him for ransom, with the expectation that the Government of the United States would pay a large ransom of money for his release. The Biggest Bicycle. What is said to be the largest bicycle in the world has been made bya bicycle company in Providence, R. I. It is made to carry six persons. Its length over all is 156 inches, and its whee] base is 125 inches. The diameter of the wheels is thirty inches, the tires are 2 1-2 inches in diameter, the gear is com- pounded to 153, and the machine weighs 137 1-2 pOunds. King Humbert Despises Cards. " The King of Italy detests cards and will not take them in his hands, it is said, owing to the fact that his father wasted hours over them. And since the , death of Alphonso XII, card playing has i been forbidden at the court of Spain. . Paris Wants Lake Geneva. They are talking in Paris about the a possibility of leading the water of Lake ‘ Geneva to Paris. I’ll have one; and Jane, which way knowing what he’d dc if he got there . Queen Victoria, for instance,“ a That postoflice business! ‘ courteous hostess. POLLY’S AWAKE-333136.. BY MARY F. BUTTS. Polly longed to be helpful. She had dreamed ever since she was a little "tot in pinafores of being, a missionary Harriet Newell; of going. to nurse on the burning plains of India, like wounded soldiers fighting in a grand cause, like Florence Nightingale; of leading a great crusade against wrong. seemed little probability that these - like Frances Willard. But there dreams would be realized. At the age of sixteen she was just plain Polly Hopkins, with a snub nose and freckles. Not that she wasan ugly girl; by no means. She was as fresh and wholesome as a peach that ripened in sunny gardens. Her figure was good, her teeth were white- and even, and her hair, though it was un- deniably red, was rich and abundant. _ But Polly was dissatisfied with the likeness reflected by her little look- ing glass. She adored great black flashing eyes, and raven locks, and pallor, and classical features. No- body would ever take her for a hero- ine, she was sure. She was, in her own estimation. much better fitted» to be a milkmaid. But Polly suddenly began to look less in the glass and more at her duty as daughter and sister. She had been to ,the village circulating library one ~ day, and was returning through the one long street of Bakerville. on her way to the little red cottage where the Hopkinses lived. She had"‘The Wide, Wide World” in her hand, and was reading its first pages with the same interest that girls used to feel forty years ago in the fascinating story. Suddenly she heard her patro- nymic pronounced by an unfamiliar voice. “Hopkins?” said another voice. “Yes,” was the reply, “George Hop- kins. He’s a limb, and’ no mistake. I shouldn’t be at all surprised if he was concerned in that postoffice business.” There was a chestnut tree on the other side of the wall that skirted the street, and somebody was looking for nuts, unaware that the conversation was being overheard. Polly’s heart seemed to stop beat- .ing for an instant, then to go plung- ing -on as if it would suffocate her. Well she knew to what the gossip referred. 'l‘hc postoflice had been robbed not long before of an insignificant sum, five or ten dollars, and it was cur- rently reported that certain boys were implicated in the affair. Polly had a staunch and wise friend, one of .her teachers in the High School, Miss Weymouth. -To her she went with her trouble the next day. School was over, and Miss Weymouth‘proposed a walk. “We can talk as we go along,” she said. “The fresh air will help us to a wise conclusion. One is always a little more sane under the open sky, I think.” ' “I. am glad you have waked up,” said the teacher, suddenly. “Wake up!” echoed Polly. “Yes, from your dreams of far-away exploits, of missionaring, and preach ing, and nursing imaginary heroes.” “Don’t you believe it is a noble thing to be a missionary?” “Oh, yes, by all means; but not nec- essarily a foreign missionary. The home field has its claims, too; press- ing claims, in many instances.” You mean there is work for me to do at home," said Polly. Then she told Miss “'eymouth all she had heard. ' “Geogge needs a sister,” said the lady, looking intently in Polly’s anx- ious face. “Tell me, can I do?" “Fascinate him. Make home bright, so beautiful that it will eclipse every other place. Has be any special tastes?” “He likes chess, but it's the pokicst game, I think; I never have patience to play it; and he used to be always fussing with his flute till I made so much fun of him he gave it up. He likes animals, too; he would bring home every miserable cur that hap- pened to follow him, if I would let him. He seems to have a taste for misery in general. You should see the gamins he used to pick up and make friends of! Oh, I fear his tastes are not very high.” Miss Weymouth, what “Well, you must try to get hold of . him through his tastes, and then re- fine them if they need refining. So far, you have not told me anything very terrible. I should think him a kind-hearted boy who is so lonesome and strange at home that he has gone outside to scek'for companionship.” “Oh! Miss Weymouth!” the convicted would-be missionary.- “There are many such boys, more’s the pity,” said the teacher, with a lit- tle regretful sigh. “Thelr mothers are sick, or busy, or so tired that they have no strength left for the boys; and sisters are occupied with new gowns and hats, with their friends, their studies, the last novel, or”— “Longing to teach Indian children," broke in Polly, her defenses quite an- nihilated. ~ \l’hen Polly reached home she found George in possession of the sitting room, surrounded by a group of boys whom she did not altogether approve, the whole party smoking cigarettes. She was .greatly annoyed, but she wisely hid her feelings, and began at once playing the part of the smiling, Ignoring the un- combed heads, and unbrushed shoes, the soiled linen, and not overclean hands and faces, she got out the pho- tographs that her Uncle George had sent her from Germany and Italy, and before she knewir had entered upon a very interesting lecture about cathedralshbridges, towers, ruins. cit. Then came" her album of famous mm. and women, and the boys listened um exclaimed ' .- M, , ’. _2 ‘ 2‘. locked till dull eyes brightened, and heavy brows took on s new look of gentleness and\intelligen,ce. The cig' arcttes disappeared one by one. hats and caps were doffed, and many .. shame-faced glance was cast on hands and feet unfit for the surroundings s.nd for the young lady’s Company. When the entertainment was over ' the boys showed very plainly. though somewhat uncouthly, their pleasure and gratitude. Then a bright idea flashed through Polly’s brain. “How would you like to form» your- selves into a club, and meet here once a week, for the present, at least?” “That would be jolly l" was the sense of the meeting. “We will have some illustrated pa- pers, and make scrap books,” said Polly. “and if you like, I will get some books of travel out of the li- brary, and we can take turns read- ing.” Jim Albrlght remarked, his face getting red as he spoke, that “it would be a good deal of trouble for Miss Polly.” -“But I wish you to pay me,” she replied. At this Master George looked rather indignant, as if there was something mercenary about the business. Ted Acton frowned and exchanged glances with the others. . Polly ran up to her room and brought down her little writing desk. She sat down and wrote out rapidly an anti-cigarette pledge; then she called the boys around her. “I wish you to pay me by signing this pledge,” she said. “George will sign first,” and she rose, giving her seat to her brother. As George had not formed the smok- ing habit, and was already ashamed that his sister had seen him with a cigarette in his month, be readily wrote his name. His example as leader was powerful with the others, and of the four all signed except A] Carter, who didn’t feel sure that he wished to be led round by the nose by a girl. Polly talked over the matter of the V club with her mother, without detail- ing her fears for George. rather a reluctant consent for the meetings, by promising that they should be quiet and orderly. and not exceed two hours in length. “Two of the boys have no mothers,” said Polly, as a final coup; “and if George”— “Yes, I know,” said Mrs. Hopkins, “if George were in the place of those boys I would wish somebody to do just what you are doing. We don’t always put ourselves in other people’s places, more’s the pity.” Polly dressed herself in her new blue gown and jacket, put on a jaunty little hat atop of the bronze She gained . braids, without looking too Ions in. the mirror, and started out to‘find‘ her girl friends. She had not walked far before she met them face to face. “Good!" called out Clara. “We were just on our way to your house. We are going to Johnstown tomorrow on the 9 o’clock train, and we want you to go with us. We will have luncheon together, and no end of fun in the af- ternoon, and get home by supper time." The blood rushed to Polly’s cheeks. A week ago she would not have hesi- tated at the proposal; but her anxiety for George and her plans for him and his friends had already worked a change. She knew instantly that a higher self had awakened in her, an‘ tagonistic to such an outing as that planned for the marrow; but she ut- tered no criticism; only told the girls, as they walked along, of the new club and of her need of their help. “I think,’ she said, ‘:‘that if you will come, prettily dressed, and chat with the boys, and one of you pour choc- olate, it will be just splendid!” Then she went on to tell about the books that she hoped to get, and ended it by saying: “How jolly it would be if we could subscribe for two or three papers and magazines just for the club!” “Why,” said Maud, “our trip to morrow, if we take it, will cost us a dollar and a half apieée; that would make, including Polly, four dollars and fifty cents apiece to the literary fund.” So it was decided; and all three went rummaging through the book collections atClara’s and Maud’s for spare volumes that could be de- voted to the service of the boys. The first club meeting was an event- ful occasion. No unblacked shoes nor uncombed hair, no ’soiled hands nor uncured-for nails appeared. There were some honest blushes—always a good sign—when the 'members were presented to the girls who had come to help entertain them, and more than one resolution made to work hard and save money for new shoes or hats or coats, or whatever was most needed to make the young fellows presenta- ble on terms of self respect. Miss Weymouth, who had come to spend the evening with Mrs. Hop- kins, peepe‘d in when the affair was in full swing. “I shall never forget that picture,” 'she said, “those bright, winning girls giving all their attention, exerting all their charms to help and strengthen boys who had already begun to drift slowly downward.” “How things grow!" said Polly, rather obscurely, as the last boy de- parted, book in hand. “One would think our club had been organized erases: - . u.- 18 like putting a seed in the earth. As soon as it is in we may be sure'that many‘an unseen force will come to its aid,” said Miss Weymouth, who had come into the club room un- observed. . ,. ' A film 'of soap bubble is the 2,500,- 000 of an inch in thickness, and that is absolutely dense when compared with the average campaign ham' shake ' ‘ 2., . .-,_‘ . >-.\‘».'_ \ . DEAREST TO WOMAN’S HEART. rm-hiuns of the Various Things That She Shall iWear. - By Special Arrangement with the N. Y. Sun.) No sconer is the problem regarding the lawns. muslins and laces for sum- mer wear solved satisfactorily than the mind of woman is obliged to turn to more sober thoughts of serge and corded silks and other heavier mate- rials for autumn wear. But if the thing must be done, there is consolation in' knowing that the new designs are cer- tainly very original. Covert coatings and fine-faced cloths, unless for dress occasions, are used mostly in the fall wraps. - The godet skirts and huge sleeves are certainly among the rapidly de- parting styles, and fashion threatens to go to the other extreme and return to close, clinging skirts. The new gowns are reduced to almost one-half of the fulness that formerly prevailed, and they fit so closely about the hips that they will be exceedingly trying to very slight figures. The tight Sleeves are equally trying, and many women are moaning over the lost fulness that has been so becoming to their extreme slenderness. The sleeves in this tran- sition period are a very important part of the dress, and although they are clinging from wrist to shoulder their shape is wonderfully relieved by the many devices employed to ornament the top, such as puffs, frills, epaulets, points an other trimming to match the bottom of the skirt. .Ulsters will be very much worn, and will be made more or less for dress by the cut .of the body of the coat. The huts have rather a severe aspect when compared with the fluffy, be- flowered hats of summer, but there is a very stylish air about them and they give the wearer a very distinguished appearance. Bonnets for elaborate oc- casions are airy, indeed, being made almost entirely of gathered tulle or lace and jet and trimmed with dark velvet, sprays of flowers, or feathers. Some of these tiny affairs have a full osprey perched upright at the back. Sprays of green oats and bunches of green wheat are showing themselves among the trimmings of the fall mil- linery, in opposition to the bright red cherries and currants that have been introduced for the decoration of fall hats. ‘ There is a marked change in the skirts. They are much less full about the bottom and fuller at the waist in the back. Braiding about the bottoms of the cloth walking skirts will be very much used. Some skirts will have per- forated designs, showing the contrast- ing color of the silken lining, and some will have a flat band of 'a darker cloth laid plainly (in the bottom and headed " with a narrow braided design. A Marked Besemblance. Bugginse-“President Cleveland used to be like George Washington, but iSn’t any longer. Now, why is it?” Guggins—“Go on; spring it.” Buggins—~“Because up to last Satur- day he was never known to Li.”——Buf— falo Express. ix The Cheerful Idiot. “Bloomers,” said the old-fashioned boarder, “lessen a woman’s matrimo- nial ‘ chances.” “Dear me,”. said the Cheerful Idiot, “I‘thought they were a distinct aid in striking a match.”—Indianapolis Jour-' cal. Baby’s Bed. Most mothers wil-lagree with us when we say there is nothing too pretty or too dainty for the baby’s bed. Some times we find that the little lace-trim- 'med cots, shown so tcmptingiy in the shop windows,.are too expensive for our pocket, but everyone can \provide neat and pretty furnishings, even though the sheets are of plain muslin, and the coverings only patchwork quilts. One little lady of our acquaintance has a cradle furnished so nicely that perhaps a description of it will be of interest to the mothers. The mattress is just the size of the cradle, four inches thick, and-.fllled with hair. This is covered with a muslin slip, made to fit it exactly, and buttoned 'at one end. When this becomes soiled, it is easy to slip it off «and exchange it for a. fresh one, and in that way the mattress is - always kept clean. Next there is a quilted pad, then the sheet, which is of fine white muslin, with a two-inch licmstitched hem all around it. The upper sheet is just like the lower one. The soft, white woolen blanket has a hem one inch deep all around it, feather-stitched with Asiatic twisted embroidery silk in pale blue. There was a soft feather pillow, with a slip of white linen, finished at the bottom with a two-inch (hem, also hemstitohed. A piece of white canvas of the proper size was purchased from a dealer in fancy work materials, and used for a spread. Threads were drawn all around it, to form a deep fringe. In the center the mother em~ broidered a monogram three inches long, in white and Roman floss. Blue and white violets scattered over the spread were worked with Asiatic filo silk in their natural colors, using two shades of green for leaves. This is one of the :handsomest bed-spreads we have ever seen and like everything else about the bed it can be washed’uny number of times, and will look none the worse for it. The New Woman Will Wed. Dr. Lyman Abbott believes in co- education. At least he says that the main argument against the mingling of the sexes at college is that “they are apt to fall in love and get married, and that,” he asserted in a recent after- dinner speech to the Oberlin College Alumni, “is a thing of which I heartily approve. I fell in love and got mar— . ried myself, and I think it was the best thing I ever did. Indeed, if I were ad- dressing undergraduates I am not sure but that I would advise them to select the study of hum-an nature with one tutor each.” The new woman does not trouble Dr. Abbott, either. “While I do not care to see women rushing into professions,” he said, “and becoming stenographers, lawyers, doctors, reporters, and what not, yet I would by no means debar' them from that privilege if they so de- sire. I would ‘have them free to choose for themselves. The idea of forcing them into the home is absurd. If men must corral women in order to marry them, then tth'ey’d better be old bache- lors. But I believe that social prob- lems will be so worker] outbefore many years that men will be the sole bread winners, and women will take that place for which they are so well suited and in which they are happy—that of home makers and home keepers. For myself, I want to say that whatever of fame has come to me, or whatever I have accomplished is due to the wisv dom, counsel and inspiration of that angel that has walked by my side. I feel sure, too, that she rejoices more in any honors that have come to me than if they had been bestowed upon 'her- self.” 25; The Little Comforts. The number of families who do not one year or another have the care of an invalid, whether man, woman or child, is comparatively small. And every woman should study the little comforts required by humanity coming ; slowly out from the misery of a long ' illness. . Many a woman who takes a real pleasure in all the little friendly offices which fall upon her in the daytime would be entirely at a loss during the , night hours and during the evening pre- paration for these. A bed in which the invalid has re i mained all day is sure to have become hot, ‘wrinkled and generally uncom- fortable by night. The bed should be remade and the upper sheet exchanged for a cool, aired one. This change can be easily. effected by using two sheets, one for day and one for “night, and does not in any way exact washing them each day. The air of the room should be changed as thoroughly as possible, and the dilferent articles of household furniture changed [around and freshencd up a bit, to rest the sick eyes. - nIAN OS. 56 YEARS ESTABLISHEE GRA ND AND UPRIGH T. Over 100,000 Manufactured. EASY TERMS. REASONABLE pmcss. » FISCHER PIANO WAREROOMS. llo Fifth Ave., cor. l6th St., my, . ...... Writs/or Catalogue. A; EXCHANGED. f
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