The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa on June 10, 1896 · Page 7
Get access to this page with a Free Trial
Click to view larger version

The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa · Page 7

Publication:
Location:
Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, June 10, 1896
Page:
Page 7
Cancel
Start Free Trial

Page 7 article text (OCR)

CUAPTRH IX. Tllfc I1KAI) OK EIIASMUS. . Waiting, and waiting alone! The gates were almost down now. The gang of ruffians without, reinforced each moment by volunteers eager for •plunder, rained blows unceasingly on .ainge and socket; nnd still hotter and faster, through a do?en rifts in the timbers, cnme the fire of their threats and cures. Many grew tired, but others replaced them. Tools broke, but they brought more nnd worked with savag-e energy. They had shown tit first a measure of prudence; looking to be fired on, and to be resisted by men, surprised, indeed, but desperate; and the holder of them only had advanced. But now they pressed around unchecked, meeting no resistance. They would scarcely stand back to let the sledges have !b\ving; but hnllooed and ran in on the creaking beams and beat tnem •vith their fists r whenever the gates swayed under a blow. One stout iron bar still held its place. And this I watched as if fascinated. I •was alone in the empty courtyard, standing a little aside, sheltered by one of the stone pillars from which the gates hung. Behind me the door of the house stood ajar. Candles, which the daylight rendered garish, still burned in the rooms on the first floor, of which the tall narrow windows were open. On the wide stone sill of one of these stood Croisette, a boyish figure, looking silently down at me, his hand on the latticed shutter. He looked pale, and I nodded and smiled at him. I felt rather finger than fear myself; remembering 4 , as the fiendish crieo half-deafened me, old tales of the Jacquerie and its doings, and how we had trodden it out. Suddenly the din and tumult flashed to a louder note; as when hounds on tho scene give tongue at sight. I turned quickly from the house, recalled to a. sense of the position and peril. The iron bar was yielding to the pressure. Slowly the left wing of the gate was sinking inwards. Through the widening chasm I caught a glimpse of wild, grimy faces and bloodshot eyes, and he\ircl above the noise a sharp cry from Croisette—a cry of terror. Then I turned and ran. with a defiant gesture Slowly tbe left wing of tho gate wus sinking Inwards. and un answering yell, right across the forecourt and up the steps to the door. I ran the faster for the sharp report of a pistol behind me, and the whirr of a ball past my ear. But I was not scared by it: and as my feet alighted with a bound on the topmost step, I glanced back. The dogs were halfway across the court. I made a bungling attempt to shut and lock the great door —failed in this; and heard behind me 4 roar of course triumph. I waited for no more. I darted up the oak staircase, four steps at a time, and rushed into the great drawing-room on my left, banging 1 the door behind me. The once'splendid room was in astate of strange disorder. Some of the rich tapestry had been hastily torn down, One window was closed and shuttered; no doubt Croisette had done it, The other two were open—as if there had not been time to close them—and the cold light which they admitted contrasted in ghastly fashion with the yellow ru,ys of candles stiJJ burning- in th_«. sconces. The furniture had been huddled aside or piled into n barrien.de, n chevuuN de frise of chairs and tables stretching across tho width of the room, its intertisccs stuffed with, and its weakness partly screened by, the torn-down hangings. Behind this frail defense, their backs to ti door which seemed fo lead to «n inner room, stood Marie and Croisette, pale- nnd defiant, The former had a long pike; the latter leveled a heavy, bell-mounted urqui- buse across the back of a chair, and blew up his match a.s I entered. Both hod in addition swords. I darted lika a rabbit through a little tunnel left on purpose for me in the rampart, and took my stand by them. "Is all right?" ejaculated Croisette, turning' to me nervously. "All rig^ht, I think," I answered. { was breathless. "You are not hurt?" ''Not touched!" I had just time to d«uv my sword before the assailants streamed into the room, a dozen rti/Tinns, reeking and tattered, with flushed faces and greedy, staring eyes. Once inside, however, suddenly—so suddenly that an idle spectator might have found the change ludicrous—they came to a stop. Their wild cries ceased, and tumbling over one another with curses and oaths they halted, surveying us in muddled surprise; seeing what was before them, and not liking it. Their loader appeared to be a tall butcher, with a pole-ax on his half-naked shoulder; but there were among them two or three soldiers in the royal livery and carrying pikes. They had looked for victims only, having met with no resistance at the gate, and the foremost, recoiled now on finding themselves confronted by the muzzle of the arquebuse and the lighted match. 1 seized the occasion.. 1 knew, indeed, that the pause presented our only chance, and 1 sprang on a chair nnd waived my hand for silence. The instinct of obedience for the moment asserted itself; there was a stillness in the room. "Beware!" 1 cried, loudly—as loudly and confidently as 1 could, considering that there was a quaver at my heart ns 1 looked on those savage faces, which met and yet avoided my eye. "Beware of what you do! We are Catholics one and all like yourselves, and good sons of the church. Ay, and good subjects, tool Vive le roi, gentlemen! God save the king! 1 ssny." And I struck the barricade with my sword until the metal rang again. "God save the king!" "Cry Vive la Messe!" shouted one. "Certainly, gentlemen!" I replied, with politeness. "With all my heart. Vive la Messe! Vive la Messe 1" This took the butcher, who, luckily, was still sober, utterly aback. He had never thought of this. He stared at us as if the ox he had been abciu to fell had opened its mouth and spoken, and, grievously at a loss, he looked for help to his companions. Later in the day, some Catholics were killed by the mob. But their deaths as far as could be learned afterwards were due to private feuds. Save in such cases—and they were few—the cry of Vive la Messe! always obtained at least a respite; more easily, of course, in the earlier hours of the morning, when, .the mob were scarce.at ease in their liberty to kill, while killing still seemed murder, and men wt j re not yet drunk with bloodshed. 'I read the hesitation of the gang in their faces; and when one asked roughly who we were, I replied with greater boldness: "I am Anne dc Caylus, nephew, of the Vicomte de Caylus, governor, under the king, of BTiyomie and the LandesI" This I said '-vith what majesty I could. "And thcst"—I continued—"are my brothers. You will harm us at your peril, gentlemen. The vicomte, believe me, will avenge every hair of our heads." I can shut my eyes now and see the stupid wonder, the balked ferocity of those gaping faces. Dull and savage as the men were they were impressed; they-saw reason indeed; and all seemed going.well for us when some one in the roar shouted: "Cursed whelps! Throw them over!" I looked swiftly in the direction whence the voice came—the dai'kest corner of the room—the corner by the shattered window. I thought I made out a slender figure, cloaked and masked—a woman's it might be, but I could not be certain—and beside it a couple of sturdy fellows, who kept apart from the herd and well behind their fuglemen. The speaker's courage rose no doubt from his position at the back of the room, for the foremost of the assailants seemed less determined. We were only three, and we must have gone down, barricade and all, before a rush. But. three are three. And an arquebuse— Croisette's match burned splendidly— well loaded with slugs is an ugly weapon at five paces, and makes nasty- wounds, besides scattering ils charge famously. This, a good many of them, and the leaders in particular, seemed to recognize. We might certainly take two or three lives; and life is valuable to its owner when plunder is afoot. Besides most of them had common sense enough to remember that there were scores of Huguenots — genuine heretics—to be robbed for the killing, &o why go out of the way, they reasoned, to cut a Catholic throat, and perhaps get into trouble! Why risk Montfaucon f or a whim ? and offend a man of influence like the Vieomte de Caylus, for nothing! Unfortunately at this crisis their original design was recalled to their minds by the same voice behind crying out: "Pavannes! Where is Pavannes?" "Ay!" shouted the butcher, grasping the idea, and at the same time spitting on his hands and taking a'f resh grip of the ax. "Show us the heretic dog, and go! Let us at him." "M. de Pavannes," J said coolly—but I could not take my eyes off, the shining blade of that man's ax, it was so very broad and sharp—"is not here!'' "That is a, liet He is in that room behind you!" the prudent gentleman in the background called out. "Give "Ay, give hhn upl" eclioed the mtm of the poJe-<ax almost good-hutMoredly. "or it will be the wofst for you. Let us have at him and get you gone!" This with an air of much reason, while a growl us of a chained beast ran through the crowd, mingled with critvi of "A mart les Huguenots! Vive Lor raine!"—cries which seemed to show that all did not approve of the indlu gence offered us. "Beware, gentlemen, beware," I urged, "I swear he is not here! I swear it, do you hear?" A howl of impatience and then a sudden movement of the crowd us though the rush were coming warned me to temporize .no longer. "Stay! Stay!" 1. added hastily. "One minute! Hear me! You are too many for us. Will you swear to let us go safe and untouched, if we give you passage?" A dozen voices shrieked assent. Out J looked at the butcher only, lie seemed to be an honest man, out of his profession. "Ay, I swear it!" he cried with a nod. "By the Mass?" "By tbe Mass." I twitched Croisette's sleeve, and he tore the fuse from his weapon, and flung the gun—too heavy to be of use to us longer—to the ground. It was done in a moment. While the mob swept over the barricade, and smashed the rich furniture of it in wanton malice, we filed aside, and nimbly, slipped under it one by one. Then we hurried in single file to the end of the room, no one taking much notice of us. All were pressing on, intent on their prey. We gained the door as the butcher struck his first blow on that which we hud guarded—on that which ,we had given up. We sprang down the stairs with bounding hearts, heard as we reached the outer door the roar of many voices, but stayed not to look behind—paused indeed for nothing. Fear, to speak candidly, lent us wings. In three seconds we had leapt the prostrate gates, and were in the street. A cripple, with two or three dogs, a knot of women looking timidly yet curiously, in a horse tethered to the strap—we saw nothing else. No one stayed us. No one raised a hand, and in another minute we had turned a corner, and were out of sight of the house. "They will take a gentleman's word another time," I said with a quiet smile as I put up my sword. "I would like to see her face at this moment," Croisette replied. "You saw Mine, d'O?" I shook my head, not answering. I was not sure, and I had a queer, sickening 'dread of the subject. If I had seen her, I had seen—oh! it w-as too horrible, too unnatural! Her own sister! Her own brother-in-law! I hastened to change 'the subject. "The Pavannes," I made shift to say, "must have had five minutes' start." "More," Croisette answered, "if ma- dame and he got away at once, if all has gone well with them, and they have not been stopped in the streets, they should be at Mirepoix's by now. They seemed, to be pretty sure that he would take them in." "Ah!" I Big-bed. "What fools we were to bring madame from that place! If we had not meddled with her affairs we might have reached Louis long- ago— our Louis, I mean." "True," Croisette answered, softly; "but remember that then we should not have saved the other Louis—as I trust we have. He would still be in Pallavicini's hands. Come, Anne, let us think it is all for the best," he added, his face shining with a steady courage that shamed me. "To the rescue! Heaven will help us to be in time yet!" "Ay, to the rescue!" I replied, catching his spirit. "First to the right, I think, second to tho left, first on the right again. That was the direction given us, was it not? The house opposite a book shop with the sign of the Head of Erasmus. Forward, boys! We may do it yet." But before I pursue our fortunes farther let 'me explain. The room we had guarded so jealously was empty! The plan had been mine nnd I was proud of it. For once Croisette had fallen into his rightful place. My flight from the gate, the vain attempt to close the house—these were all designed to draw the assailants to one spot. Pavan- nes and his wife—the latter hastily disguised as a boy—had hidden behind tho door of the hutch by the gates— the porter's hutch, and had slipped oxit nnd fled in the first confusion of the attack. For the servants, as we learned afterwards, who had hidden themselves in the lower part of the house, got away in the same manner, though some of them—they were but few in all—were stopped as Huguenots and killed before the day ended. I had the more reason to hope that Pavannes and his wife would get clear off., inasmuch as I had given the duke's ring to him, thinking it might serve him in a strait, and believing that we would have little to fear ourselves, once clear of his house; unless we should meet the vi- clame indeed. We did not meet him, as it turned out; but before wo had traversed n quarter of the distance we had to go we found that fears based on reason were not the only terrors we had to resist. Pavannes' house, where we Had. hitherto been, stood at some distance from the center of the blood storm which had enwrapped unhappy Paris that morning. It was several hundred paces from the Hue de Bethisy where tbe admiral lived, and what with his comparative remoteness and the excitement of our little drama, we had not attended much t° the fury of the bells, the shots and cries and uproar which proclaimed the state of the city. We had not pictured the scenes which were happening so near. Now in the streets the truth broke upon us, and drove the blood from our^ cheeks. A hundred vards, the turning of a corner, sufficed. We wbo but yesterday left the country, who only a week before were boys, Fear, to speak candidly, lent us wings. careless ns other boys, not reeking for death at all, were plunging- now into the midst of horrors I cannot describe. And the awful contrast between the sky above and UK* things above us! Even now the lark was singing not far 'from ua; the sunshine was striking the toptnost stories of the houses; the fleecy clouds were passing overhead, the freshness of a summer morning w as- Ali! where was it! Not here in the narrow lanes, sure.'y, that echoed and reechoed with shrieks and curses arid frantic prayers; in which bands of furious men rushed up and clown, and where archers on the guard and the more cruel rabble were bi caking in doors and windows, and hinrying with bloody weapons from house to house, seeking, pursuing, and at last killing in some horrid corner, some place of darkness—killing with blow on blow dealt on writhing bodies! Not here, surely, where each minute a child, a woman died silently, a man snarling like a wolf—happy if he had snatched his weapon and got his back to the wall; where foul corpses dammed the very blood that ran down the kennel, and children — little children — played with them! I was at Cahors in 1580 in the great street fight; and there women were killed. I was with Chatillon nine years later, when he rode through the Fau- bourgs of Paris, with this very day and his father Coiigny in his mind, and gave no quarter. I was at Contras and Ivry, and more than once have seen prisoners led out to be piked in batches ay, and by hundreds! But war is war, and these were its victims, dying for the most part under God's heaven with arms in their hands; not men and women fresh roused from their sleep. I felt on those occasions no sueh horror, I have never felt such burning pity and indignation a.s on the morning I am describing, that long-past summer morning- when I first-saw the sun shining on the streets of Paris. Croisette clung to me, sick and white, shutting his eyes and ears, and letting me guide him as I would. Marie strode along on the other side of him, his lips closed, his eyes sinister. Once a soldier of the guard whose blood-stained hands betrayed the work he had done, came reeling—he was drunk, as were many of the butchers—across our path, and J gave way a little. Marie did not, but walked stolidly on as if he did not see him, as if the way were clear, and there were no ugly thing in God's image blocking it. Only his hand went as if by accident to the haft of his dagger. The archer— fortunately for himself and for us too —reeled clear of us. We escaped that danger. But to see women killed and pass by—it was horrible! So horrible that if in those moments I had had the wishing-cnp, I would have asked but for 5,000 riders, and leave to charge with them through the streets of Paris! I would have, had the daj's of the Jac- querie back again, and my men-at-arms behind me! For ourselves, though the orgy was at its height when we passed, we were not molested. We were stopped indeed three times—once in each 'of the streets we traversed—by different bands of murderers. But as we wore the same badges as themselves, and cried " Vive la Messe!" and gave our names, we were allowed to proceed. I can give no idea of the confusion and uproar, and I scarcely believe myself now that we saw some of the things we witnessed. Once a man gayly dressed, nnd splendidly mounted, dashed past us, waving his naked sword and crying in a frenzied way: "Bleed them! Bleed them! Bleed in May, as good to-day!" and never ceased crying- out the same words until he passed beyond our hearing. Once we came upon the bodies of a father and two sons, which lay piled together in the kennel; partly stripped already. The youngest boy could not have been more than 13. I mention this group, not as surpassing 1 others in pathos, but because it is well known now that this boy, Jacques Nompar de Caumont, was not dead, but lives today, my friend, the Marshal de la Force. This reminds me too of the single act of kindness we were able to perform. We found ourselves suddenly, on turning a corner, amid a gang of seven or eight soldiers, who had stopped and surrounded a handsome boy, apparently about 14. He wore a scholar's gown, and had some books under his arm, to which he clung firmly—though only perhaps by instinct—notwithstanding- the furious air of the men who were threatening him with, death. They were, loudly demanding his name, as we paused opposite them. He either could not or would not give it, but said several times in his f righFthat he was going to the College of Burgiindy. Was he a. Catholic? 'they ciied. He was silent, With an*oatfe the, njan who b«4 hold of his collar lifted up hi* piKo. and naturally tho lad raixol the hooks tr> fftnard his f:ico, A c-y broke from Croisoete. He rushed forward to stsiy the blow. "iSee! «(•(•!" he oxclnircrcl loudly, his voice iirrc.stir/r t'i'- mini's iinn in tin- very aet of 1';;!lii;<>. "He I'.ms 11 HUIKS book! He has a muss book! Ileisnot a heretic! lie is a Catholic!" The fellow lowered his weapon, and sullenly .snatched the books. Up looked at them stupidly with bloodshot wandering eyes, the red cross on the vellum bindings the only thing ho understood. But it was enough for him; he bid the, boy be^-ouo, and released him with a cuff und an oath. Croisette was not f--nf isfied with this. though 1 did not understand his reason: only I saw him exchange a glance with the lad. "Come, come!" he said lightly. "(Jive him his books! You do not want them ! " But on that the men turned savagely upon us. They did not thank us for the part we had already taken; and this they thought was going too far. They were half drunk and quarrelsome, and beinq- two to one. and two over, began to flourish their weapons in our faces. Mischief would certainly have been done, and very quickly, had not an unexpected ally appeared on our side. "Put up! put up!" this gentleman cried in a boisterous voice — he was already in our umlssf. "What is oil this about? Whi'.t is the use of lighting amongst ourselves, when there is many a bonny throat to cut, ;sntl heaven to bo gained by it! put up, 1 say!" "Who are you?" they roaivd, in chorus. "The clu!;e of Guise!" he answered, coolly. "Let the gentlemen go. and be hanged to you, you rascals!" The man's bearing was a stronger argument than his words, for I am sure that a stouter or moi-u reckless blade never swug'gered in church or street. I knew him instantly, and even the crew of the butchers seemed to see in him their master. They flung back a fr;w curses at him, but having- nothing to gain they yielded. They threw down fhe book with contempt — showing thereby their sense of true religion; and trooped off roaring. "Tueil Tuex! Aux Hi'.tftienots!" at the top of their voices. The newcomer thus left with us was 1'ure — Blaise .Bure, the same who only yesterday, though it seemed months and months bank, and luml us into Bezers' power. Since that moment we had not seen him. Xow lie had wiped oil' part of the debt we looked at him uncertain whether to reproach him or no. lie, however, was not one whit abashed, but returned our regards with H not unkindly leer. "I bear no malice, young- gentlemen." he said, impudently. "No, 1 should think not," I answered. "And besides, we are quits now," the knave continued. '.'You are very kind," I said. "To be sure. You did me a g-oocl turn once," he answered, much to my surprise. He seemed to be in earnest now. ' "You do no't remember it, young- gen tie- man, but it was you and your brother hero" — hu pointed to Croisette — "did it! And by the pope and the kin^ 1 of Spain I have not forgotten it ! " "I have," I said. "What! Have you forgotten spitting that fellow at Caylus ton days ago? Ca! FH! You remember. And very cleanly clone, too! A pretty stroke! Well M. Anne, that was a clever fellow, a very clever fellow. He thought so. and 1 thought so, and what was more to the pui'pose the most noble Ruotil de Be- zers thought so too. You understand ?'* He Jeered at me, and I did understand. I understood that unwittingly I had rid Blaise Bure of a rival. This accounted for the respectful, almost kindly way in which he had — well, deceived us. "That is all," he said. "IE you want as much done for you let me know. For the present, gentlemen, farewell!" He cocked his hat fiercely, and went oft at speed the way we had ourselves been going, humming as he went: " Ce petit homme tant Joll, Qul toujours cause et toujours rit, Qul toujours balse sa mignonno Dieu garcl' de mal ce petit homme!" His reckless song came back to us on the summer breeze. We watched him ruake a playful pass at a corpse which some one had propped in ghastly fashion against a door — and miss it — and go on whistling the same air — and then a corner hid him from view. We lingered only a moment ourselves; merely to speak to the boy we had befriended. "Show the book if anyone challenges you," said Croisette to him, shrewdly, Croisette was so much of a boy himself, with his fair hair like a halo about his white, excited face, that the picture of the two, one advising- the other, seemed to me a strangely pretty one. "Show the books and point to the cross on them. And Heaven send you safe to your college." "I would like to know your name, if you please," said the boy, His coolness and dignity struck me as admirable under the circumstances. "1 am Maximilian de Bethtine, son of the Baron de Jiosny." "Then," said Croisette, briskly, "one good turn has deserved another, Your father, yesterday, at Etampes — no, jt was the day before, but we have not been in bed — warned us — " He broke off suddenly; then cried: "Run! run!" (Continued next week.) Jl. H. Woodward Company, Baltimore, Md., announce a new hook, "Story or " >ain and Cuba." This book is written by Mr. ISfathan C, Green, the well-known author and former resident of Cuba. It is beautifully illustrated with nearly 1QQ engravings and is sold by subscription. Sewing machines and organs very cheap at J, ]g. Winkel's. 33-35 We what you GrBOVE BRAVE AND GOOL. Pit* figr A Young tlorolnfe, In January last a Philadelphia lehe"* ment house was buriied. Two men wef8 killed and several persons were bAdly injured, while others t-soapec! in an almost miraculous manner. Tho fourth •floor was occupied by the family of Joseph Zellers. The father and mother seem to have been absent, but the live children were at home. All were saved through the bravery and coolness of the oldest of them, a girl of 30, whose conduct is briefly described by the Record: Jenny Zellers was dressing the children, the youngest a mere babe, v,-'-,en a cloud of smoke came into the room nnd at the same time the frantic cries of those below reached her cars. Hastily opening the door, she saw the /lames leaping up the stairway toward her. Never hesitating, she closed the door, and calling the children together forced them up a ladder a.nd through a trap-door to the roof. They were elevated high above the surrounding buildings, and below them the flames wens roaring with terrible fury. Still retaining her presence of mipd, the brave girl dropped her brother, a lad of 14, to the roof of the house, to the south. It was a fall of ten feet, but the boy landed safely, and then the gir! braved the fire in her doomed bcme to secure a quantify- of bedding-. This she threw to her brother, who arranged iton the roof, and then, one by one, she dropped the other children. The infant she took in her arms and leaped with it in safety to the bedding-. !Next she broke a skylight in the roof to which a/11 had escaped, and lowering the children through it, they all reached the street. AN HONORABLE VEGETABLE. Tbe Onion Has Its Admirers—The Anaconda (Mont.) Onion Society. The nutritious and wholesome onion occasionally finds its vindicators. At the thriving Montana city of Anaconda there is a dining club called the Anaconda Onion society. Its first feast was recently ffiven with distinguished success. Down the center of the hall, says the Anaconda Standard, was set a long 1 table, with cover for all the guests. At each plate was a large and juicy onion; in the middle of the table was an array of meats, bread, fruit-crackers, cheese and other things. AI one end of the hall floated the sla.iulard of the club in proud conspic- tiousncss. It consisted of a pole surmounted by a string of the vegetables from which tho socily tal-.cs its name. On the wall hung this motto, beautifully wrought: I.N ONION TI/EKE IS ETIIEIS'&TH. Each member wore a pretty bouton- nler of little onions. Tin- occasion was greatly enjoyed by a.Il the participants, and the society hopes to do much to restore the onion to the honor and esteem cf the world. In Montana, as well ass on the whole of the Pacific slope, the onion attains a delieiousness of quality which is comparatively 'unknown ,bn the eastern side of the continent. If the people of the east could have onions r.r, good r.s those of Montana and California, itis possible that the Anaconda Onion society might find imitators in the cast. BARBERS IN AUSTRiA. They Must Servo In All Cases a Three- Years' Apprenticeship. The Austrians take no chances with their barbers, says the New York World. They must be good, and the Barbers' and Wig-makers' union of Vienna sees to it 11.at they are. Provision is also made in their code for women barbers who desire»to carry on the business of of their husbands in case of the latter's death or illness. But in order -to do this the wife must have been enrolled in the union as an apprentice for three years. Apprentices, by the rules of the union, must appear, in Vienna in the presence of judges of the tmion and show their skill before they are allowed to open shops of their own. A properly certified barber must have a knowledge of and pass an examination in shaving, hair-cutting, hair-curling ami wig-making, and during the period before the issuance of a certificate the poor and others who are frugal serve as subjects for experiment. At the examination the young men have their razors dulled by four strokes in a pine plank, and they must then sharpen them. A subject is assigned to each, who must be tonsorially perfect, in the opinion of the judges, when the apprentice has released him. After this a certificate is issued and the apprentice serves two years as a journeyman before he may open a shop as an employer. The average age of apprentices when they begin to learn their trade is 13 years. TFhat an Expert Says of Insomnia, Sir James Crichton Browne, the- expert on brain diseases, holds that in' sonmia. is not attended with such dts* astanis consequences as is commonly &upposed. It is not as dangerous as the solicitude of the sufferer, He sug* gests that the brains of literary men, who are the most frequent victims, ae* quire the trick of the heart, which- takes a doze of a fraction of a, second after each beat, and so manages to get-' six hours rest in, 84, Some brains, jn,' cases of insomnia, sleep in septipus, different brain sections going o£E4ut-J" to turn. Gave tbe Servants parrot i« & certain famijy kept in, the dining*room the family, but during removed to the kitchen, When, the wjntef vraj| it again the family, whom, it ajnusexi witfe oew remarks it had picked up fg kitchen. On, one occasion, beli ha4 been, 'en*

Get full access with a Free Trial

Start Free Trial

What members have found on this page