B (continued 2)

Book, The Most Popular—See Bible, Popularity of.

BOOKS AND WORTH

Browning would never write for a magazine. He wrote: “I can not bring myself to write for periodicals. If I publish a book, and people choose to buy it, that proves they want to read my work. But to have them to turn over the pages of a magazine and find me—that is to be an uninvited guest.”

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Books, Influence of—See Reformation.

Books Less Important than Things—See Things not Books.

BOOKS, POISON IN

A gentleman in India went into his library and took down a book from the shelves. As he did so he felt a slight pain in his finger like the prick of a pin. He thought that a pin had been stuck by some careless person in the cover of the book. But soon his finger began to swell, then his arm, and then his whole body, and in a few days he died. It was not a pin among the books, but a small and deadly serpent.

There are many books that contain moral poison more deadly to character than this serpent. (Text.)

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BOOKS, THE SIZE OF

We are capable of believing, not only that we love books which we do not love, but that we have read books which we have not read. A lifelong intimacy with their titles, a partial acquaintance with modern criticism, a lively recollection of many familiar quotations—these things come in time to be mistaken for a knowledge of the books themselves. Perhaps in youth it was our ambitious purpose to storm certain bulwarks of literature; but we were deterred by their unpardonable length. It is a melancholy truth, which may as well be acknowledged at the start, that many of the books best worth reading are very, very long, and that they can not, without mortal hurt, be shortened. Nothing less than a shipwreck on a desert island in company with Froissart’s “Chronicles” would give us leisure to peruse this glorious narrative, and it is useless to hope for such a happy combination of chances. We might, indeed, be wrecked—that is always a possibility—but the volume saved dripping from the deep would be “Soldiers of Fortune,” or “Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch.”—Agnes Repplier, “Compromises.”

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BOORISHNESS

Boorishness is a product of selfishness far more than a product of ignorance; or at least a product of that ignorance which is in itself a product of selfishness. I was once at a wedding breakfast in a rural community in the West. The groom ate in silence the food that was set before him, dispatched his meal before the rest of us were more than half through, pushed back his plate, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and turning to his bride, said, “Well, Sally, you may as well get used to my way at the beginning, and I always leave the table when I have got through with my meal!” With these words he went out to pick his teeth on the door-steps, leaving his bride with a flushed face and a pained heart, the object of our commiseration. The man was a boor, you say. True! What made him a boor? The fact that he selfishly thought of his own comfort. It never entered his head to inquire whether his conduct would be agreeable or painful to his bride.—Lyman Abbott, The Chautauquan.

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Borrowed Trouble—See Wait and See.

BORROWING HABIT ARRESTED

A wag has declared that there is one borrower set down in every neighborhood; that she either “leavens the whole lump” (being of the fomenting class) or speedily moves away. But he is mistaken; sometimes the borrower gets converted. Here is the way one woman managed it:

“Ma wants to know if you will loan her a cup of sugar?” asks Mrs. B.’s little girl.

“Why, certainly! But be sure to tell her not to return it,” was the cheerful response of Mrs. Neighbor.

The next day the child reappeared with the sugar, but she was promptly sent home with it. Mrs. N. was “glad to let her have it, and it was too small a matter to be repaid.”

This caused Mrs. Borrower to gasp and to wait a while before despatching the child for a cup of lard. This was given also, and when no return was allowed Mrs. B. realized the situation and was too proud to ask for further loans. She resented her neighbor’s attitude, but her mouth was shut, especially as Mrs. N. continued as friendly as ever when they met. The result was that she was simply forced to exercise a little more head-work thereafter in her household affairs, ordering supplies sufficiently in advance of her needs, and soon she had broken herself of the borrowing habit.—Lee McCrae, Zion’s Advocate.

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BOTTOM, BEGINNING AT THE

It was in the pursuit of a mission that Theodore Roosevelt, Jr., went to Thompsonville. He might have found a more showy position, for he had name and influence. He might have found plenty of things to do that would at the start have brought him more money. For that matter, he had enough of his own so that he need not bother with work; and had he been like some young men, he would never have been seen in overalls or any other uniform of the toiler. But he went to the carpet mill, and he did what he was told. He began at the bottom. He has worked hard. And now we may understand what he did it for. Announcement is made that he is to go West as manager of one of the Hartford Carpet Company’s Western houses. It is for a purpose that he has been learning the business in all its details. He could not manage without that knowledge.

It is an old lesson, but never was there an instance better showing it than does this of the son of the former President. If he could afford to begin at the bottom, others can. If he must, others must. If with his brains and education he needed to do that, nearly any young man does. If his prospective position is the reward of that sort of sacrifice, it is a sacrifice that any young man can afford to make.—New Haven Register.

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Boy, A Chance for the—See Chance for the Boy.

Boy, a Dutiful—See Preservation.

BOY AND KING

Mark Twain tells a story of how a bootblack saved a king. The king was sick; his trouble defied the skill of all his doctors, and it seemed as if he must die. The little bootblack knew a peculiar but a sure remedy for the disease; but how to get the king to take a prescription from a bootblack was a problem. He might have gone to the palace doors and pleaded till he was hoarse without any one listening. So he told his remedy to the ash-boy, who was older than himself, and the ash-boy told it to the butcher, and the butcher told it to his wife, and she told it to some one else, and so on it went, a little higher each time, until it reached the king’s doctors. The king would have nothing more to do with them, so they told it to the favorite page, and since the king was very fond of the page he tried the remedy just to please him. The king was cured by the bootblack’s remedy.—James M. Stifler, “The Fighting Saint.”

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Boy, A Noble—See Love, Filial.

Boy, His Own—See Fatherhood.

BOYS ADJUSTING THEIR TROUBLES

When Edward VII was a boy of ten, he was with his mother, Queen Victoria, at Balmoral Castle in the Highlands of Scotland. At that time the Queen was quite a skilful painter in water-colors and spent many days by the waterfalls and in the glens making pictures.

One day she was sitting at her easel on a sandy beach of the river beneath a waterfall. Young Edward was playing around her. The little Prince suddenly caught sight of a Highland lad in kilts. The lad was making a sand castle and adorning it with sprigs of heather and “chucky-stones.”

The Prince advanced to him with royal hauteur and asked for whom the sand castle was being built.

“For bonnie Prince Charlie,” was the playful reply of the boy, who stood with his hands on his hips to see the effect of a thistle on the top story. The lad had no idea that his interlocutor was any different from any other boy.

The young Prince, however, determined to make it clear that he—and not Prince Charlie—was to be King some day. He kicked over the sand castle.

The Highland boy glared at him and said:

“Ye’ll no dae that again!”

It was a challenge. The lad rebuilt his sand castle very deliberately. The Prince waited until the thistle was stuck on the top story, then kicked it over as deliberately as it had been built.

“Ye’ll no dae that a third time!” challenged the little Scot, beginning to rebuild with even more deliberation.

The Queen had been noticing the affair. She set aside her brush and palette, but said nothing; only watched with a firm, studious expression on her maternal face.

A third time Prince Edward kicked over the Highland lad’s sand castle. No sooner was it done than its kilted builder closed his fists and lowered his head. In another moment the two boys were hammering one another.

The Queen sat there and never interfered by word or act. The little Prince presently returned, weeping, bruised, and bloody-nosed, while the rebel Gael stood apart, himself considerably frayed, waiting to see if any further service were needed in the training of royal children.

To the little Prince’s plea for speedy justice and vengeance, the motherly Queen merely replied, as she wiped the blood from the future King’s nose with a pocket handkerchief:

“It served you right!”—New York Times.

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BOYS’ CHAMPION

Pages, messenger boys, newsboys and bootblacks have a champion in a member of Congress who never lets pass an opportunity to help them along. If a messenger boy should happen to drop into the office of Representative William J. Cary, of Milwaukee, in the House office building, he would get as much consideration as a member of the United States Senate.

Mr. Cary is the friend of the little chaps because he knows from experience what it means to get out and hustle for a living when some of your pals are off playing baseball in the back lots, and whenever he gets a chance to give a youngster a boost he boosts hard.

Mr. Cary was left an orphan when he was thirteen years old, together with five younger brothers and sisters who were placed in an orphan asylum.

In chasing around Milwaukee as a messenger boy he became acquainted with the political leaders of the city and by the time he was old enough to vote he was a full-fledged politician. Machine methods do not appeal to him and he would rather mix up in a fight with the Cannon organization than to take a cruise to Europe.—Boston Journal.

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Boys and Saloon—See Chance for the Boy.

Boy’s Courage, A—See Loyalty.

Boys, Influences Upon—See Youthful Tendencies.

BOY’S CLUB, VALUE OF THE

I was talking once with an East Side boy, one of the keenest and quickest fellows I have ever met. He told me the story of his early years. There was no good reason why he should have been a newsboy; his father was a fairly prosperous tailor; but he loved the adventure of it, and used to play hookey from school and from home to sell papers. Union Square was his center, and from there down to Washington Square he ranged. He was the quickest and the most fearless of the newsboys in the neighborhood, and soon became a leader among them. His brightness and wit won him entrance into most of the saloons and restaurants thereabouts, when the other boys were excluded; and in many of these the waiters or the barkeeper would save the dregs of drinks for him. He stole when he could, just for the excitement of the thing; and with great glee he told me how he once had picked the pocket of Mr. Robert Graham, the general secretary of the Church Temperance Society, as that gentleman stood talking at the window of the society’s coffee-van in the square. At the time he told me this, he and I both belonged to a company of the Church Temperance Society which claimed Mr. Graham as its adjutant commander. His story was not all of such proud recollections, however. For after a pause he said, rather slowly, “The boys I used to go with around here, my gang, have all gone to the devil, and mighty fast.” “Well, John,” I asked, “how is it that you didn’t go to the devil, too, with them?” “Well, I’ll tell you. I belonged to a boy’s club down near my house. It wasn’t much of a club; we used to steal and have rough house all we pleased. But I was there every night.” And then he added, with a momentary seriousness I shall not soon forget: “Mr. Bartlett, if you want to save the boys, keep them off the streets at night.” It was expert testimony; he knew whereof he spoke. And what he said puts in a nutshell the whole philosophy of the boys’ club, secular or spiritual, on its negative, but a most important, side. If the club simply keeps the boys off the streets at night, it does much more than enough to pay for all it costs.—George G. Bartlett, “Proceedings of the Religious Education Association,” 1904.

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Boys Contrasted—See Early Habits Tell.

BOYS’ MISSIONARY EFFORTS

Eight boys in a Sunday-school class in one of our churches, following the suggestion of their teacher, decided to send Christmas remembrances to eight boys in a mission church in the far Northwest. They set aside five cents each week for seven weeks and purchased knives of much greater value than thirty-five cents each, through the kindness of the merchant who was informed of their purpose. Each boy wrote a personal letter to the boy who was to receive his gift. The eight knives went on their way before Christmas to the care of the minister of the mission, who wisely required his eight boys to write personal letters acknowledging their gifts and telling something about themselves, before they received the knives. So eight choir-boys, close up to the Canada line in the Northwest, received these Christmas gifts. The letters received here were said to have interfered for a Sunday or two with the regular lessons. With their accounts of hunting rabbits, etc., they made Newark boys feel that all the advantages of life are not found in New Jersey. The plan here described was suggested incidentally by the work of the Church Periodical Club, which has done a great deal to brighten the lives of our missionaries and their people.—The Newark (N. J.) Churchman.

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Boy’s Religion—See Early Religion.

Boy’s Trust in Father—See Confidence.

BOYCOTT, ORIGIN OF

Boycotting did originate in America, but it was started long before the slavery troubles became annoying. The boycott originated with Thomas Jefferson. It will be remembered that by the embargo we boycotted every species of English goods; we neither bought of that country nor sold to her. The ships of New England were suffered to lie rotting at the wharves, and American foreign trade was at a complete standstill. The Hartford Convention was the result of that boycott, and the lukewarmness of the East in the war of 1812 may be traced to it. It was not a highly successful boycott, but it occupied a pretty big place in history.—Detroit Evening Journal.

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Brag—See Pretense.

BRAIN IN MAN

All, if not most animals, have brains. Man, in common with his kingdom, has a brain; but because of its greater weight and perfection, scientists see in it an illustration of man’s vast superiority over all below him.

Note has to be taken among the mammalia themselves, from the marsupials to man, of the presence or absence of one testing character, and that the chief—the perfect brain. This is found in one creature, occupying, as it were, the inner ring and core of the concentric circles of vitality, and in one alone. In the lowest variety of man it is present—present in the negro or the bushman as in the civilized European; and absent in all below man—absent in the ape or the elephant as truly as in the kangaroo or the duckmole. To all men the pleno-cerebral type is common: to man, as such, it is peculiar. And till we hear of some simian tribe which speculates on its own origin, or discusses its own place in the scale of being, we shall be safe in opposing the human brain, with its sign in language, culture, capacity of progress, as a barrier to Mr. Darwin’s scheme.

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Bravery—See Loyalty.

BRAVERY OF WOMEN

Henry Savage Landor, one of the many passengers on the Baltic, added chapter after chapter to the good story of the bravery and coolness displayed by men and women when the Republic was struck, and throughout the hours of waiting and of rescue:

In all my travels through the countries of the two hemispheres, never have I seen displayed a spirit of womanhood that could be better in such an extreme than was that of the women of the Republic. When we of the Baltic met them, it was as they were being brought to our vessel in a tossing sea in small boats after nearly a score of hours spent on the crowded Italian emigrant vessel, to which they had been taken from another wreck. Yet not only was there no whimpering, but they actually came aboard with smiling faces. They forgot that all their traveling possessions were doomed, forgot all the ordeal they had encountered, and showed themselves happy and contented because they thought, most of them, that in the face of disaster, all that the hands of willing men could do to help them had been done.

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BREVITY OF LIFE

The May-fly, of which there are several varieties, lives at the longest but three or four days; some varieties but a few hours of one day. Yet they are delicately organized, and possess all the functions of insect lives.

Man’s few years of mortal existence may seem as brief compared with eternity.

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The life of a perfect butterfly or moth is short. A few days after emergence from the chrysalis case, the female deposits her eggs on the leaves or stems of the plant that is to sustain the larvæ. Her work is now accomplished, and the few days more allowed her are spent in frolicking among the flowers, and sucking the sweet juices they provide. They soon show symptoms of a fast approaching end. Their colors begin to fade, and the beauty-making scales of the wings gradually disappear through friction against the petals of hundreds of flowers visited and the merry dances with scores and scores of playful companions. At last, one bright afternoon, while the sun is still high in the heavens, a butterfly, more weary than usual, with heavy and laborious flight, seeks a place of rest for the approaching night. Here, on a waving stalk, it is soon lulled to sleep by a gentle breeze.

Next morning, a few hours before noon, the blazing sun calls it out for its usual frolics. But its body now seems too heavy to be supported by the feeble and ragged wings, and, after one or two weak attempts at play, it settles down in its final resting-place. On the following morning a dead butterfly is seen, still clinging by its claws to a swinging stem.—W. Furneaux, “Butterflies and Moths.”

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Bride-racing—See Marriage-racing.

BRIGHT SIDE

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Broad-mindedness in Civics—See Civics.

BROTHERHOOD

Two men saw a piece of jewelry on the sidewalk, they reached for it simultaneously, struck their heads violently; each arose to censure the other, when they found they were brothers and had not seen each other for a dozen years. It must not be forgotten that all competitions and rivalries to-day are between brothers, and some day the vast brotherhood will be permanently organized.—Charles E. Locke.

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A man preaching to the inmates of a prison made the remark that the only difference between himself and them was owing to the grace of God. Afterward one of the prisoners approached him and asked: “Did you mean what you said about sympathizing with us, and that only the help of God made you differ from us?” Being answered in the affirmative, the prisoner said: “I am here for life, but I can stay here more contentedly now that I know I have a brother out in the world.”

How we might lighten the burden of others if we had and showed more feeling for them, if we followed more closely in the footsteps of our blessed Lord.—St. Clair Hester.

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The story is told, as an instance of Oriental humor, of a little Chinese girl who was carrying her brother on her back. “Is he heavy?” she was asked. “No,” she replied, “he is my brother.”

For some reason this seems funny to the Chinese; but it is better than humorous, it is sweet and winning. Love makes all burdens light. When one is carrying his brother, he feels little weight. Here is a good text for social workers. If they consider that they are working for mere aliens and strangers, their toil may seem irksome; but if the idea of brotherhood once enters in, the task becomes light. I am carrying my weaker brother, therefore I feel no weight.

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See Weakness, Consideration for.

BUILDERS, ANCIENT

The old Egyptians were better builders than those of the present day. There are blocks of stone in the pyramids which weigh three or four times as much as the obelisk on the London embankment. There is one stone the weight of which is estimated at eight hundred and eighty tons. There are stones thirty feet in length which fit so closely together that a penknife may be run over the surface without discovering the break between them. They are not laid with mortar, either. We have no machinery so perfect that it will make two surfaces thirty feet in length which will meet together as these stones in the pyramids meet. It is supposed that they were rubbed backward and forward upon each other until the surfaces were assimilated, making them the world’s wonders in mechanical skill.—The London Budget.

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See Daily Character Work.

Building Character—See Imperfections Corrected.

Building, Cheap—See Fire, Cost of.

BUILDING THE SOUL’S CITY

Prof. Felix Adler is the author of this poem:

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Burdens—See Brotherhood.

BURDENS, BEARING ONE ANOTHER’S

On a railway train running on a branch road from a great city to the suburb, a little incident in complete contrast was noted by eyes quick to see what happened on the road. A woman, evidently a foreigner and very poor, was encumbered by a baby in her arms, while two older children tugged at her skirt. In addition she had several nondescript bundles. When the brakeman announced her station she was bewildered and greatly impeded in her efforts to leave the car. She was not quite sure of the place, and she could not easily manage the babies and the bundles.

A tall young fellow, conspicuously well drest, had been sitting near, apparently lost in a book which he was studying. He tossed the book aside, seized the heavy bundles and gave a hand to one little brown-faced child, assisted the whole party out of the car, first ascertaining that they were at the right point of their journey, lifted his hat to the mother as if she had been his own, and resumed his place and book as if he had done nothing uncommon. This incident was chronicled in the memory of one whom it made happier for a whole long day. (Text.)—Herald and Presbyter.

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Burdens for Others—See Hardship Vicariously Borne.

Burglar Punished—See Unloading the Useless.

BURIAL, A NOVEL PLAN OF

Gen. M. C. Meigs, U.S.A., discusses the burial of the dead as follows in Building:

I see that the question of disposing of the dead in towers of masonry, or by cementation, is being discust. It is not new. Asiatic conquerors have built the living, after capture of their cities, into towers of masonry, using their bodies as blocks, and generally the adobe mortars of the desert plains for cementing them together. One of them built a pyramid or tower containing thousands of heads.

The city of New York inters in its Potter’s Field about four thousand bodies annually. Europe rents a grave site for a term of years—a short term—and then disinters the bones and packs them in a catacomb or a vault. Would not New York save money and treat its dead with greater respect if it embedded each body in a mass of Hudson River cement and sand (Beton Coignet)? I find that one-half a cubic yard of Beton Coignet will completely enclose the body of a man of six feet stature, weighing two hundred pounds. The average human being would require even less than thirteen cubic feet. At ruling prices such a sarcophagus would cost only two or three dollars. The name and date, a perpetual record and memorial of the dead, could be inscribed with letter-punches or stamps on the head or foot of the block or sarcophagus. Ranged alongside each other in contact, and in two rows, i.e., two blocks deep, these would build on any suitable plan a fourteen-foot wall, massive enough and strong enough to be carried to the height of one hundred and fifty feet.

Thus would be erected, at the rate of nearly two thousand cubic yards per year, a great temple of silence, a grand and everlasting monument to those who pass away. The designs for such a monument seem worthy of the study of our best architects. It might be a pyramid, a cone, a tower, or a temple, or a long gallery like those of the Italian city of Bologna, the most beautiful cemetery in the world.

Many years ago the London Architect published the proposal of an architect to erect by slow degrees and in successive courses a solid pyramid in which, in cells, the dead of London would be enclosed. But this made no provision for memorial inscriptions or visible records. The fourteen-foot wall does this.—Building.

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Burial too Expensive—See Poverty.

Buried Cities—See Earth Increasing.

BUSINESS A TEST OF CHARACTER

Beethoven, when he had completed one of his grand musical compositions, was accustomed to test it on an old harpsichord, lest a more perfect instrument might flatter it or hide its defects.

The old harpsichord on which to test our religious life, our new song, is the market-place. A man, like muddy water, may be very peaceful when he is quietly “settled”—not shaken up by temptation. That proves nothing about his religious life. But if a man’s patience and peace and principles can stand the test of business, his religion is genuine.

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Business Absorption—See Engrossment in Business.

Business Acumen—See Oversight.

Business Brevity—See Success Inspires Confidence.

BUSINESS CHANCES

In 1840 Worcester had thirty leading manufacturers of whom twenty-eight began as journeymen and two as sons of manufacturers. Of seventy-five manufacturers in 1850, six only were sons of manufacturers, only six of the one hundred and seven in 1860, and of one hundred and seventy-six manufacturers in 1878, only fifteen. The chance that the head of a manufacturing business will be reached by the son of an owner in Worcester for forty years has been pretty steadily about one in ten of the total chances of going to the head. As the sons of manufacturers in Worcester in 1840 could not have been, taking thirty manufacturers as the number, one per cent of the population, the chances of success for them was above the average, but not so far above as to discourage young men without this good fortune. The chance that property will stay two generations in one family seems also to be about one in ten in Worcester. Of the thirty manufacturers in 1840, fourteen of whom died or retired with property, only three in 1888 had left sons with money; of the seventy-five in 1850, the sons of only six survive now; and of one hundred and seven in 1860, eight only were represented by sons in the business world of Worcester twenty-eight years later. The business field at any given year is apt to look to young men as if all the leading places were filled by men whose sons were certain to enjoy the advantages of wealth and likely to take the places of their fathers. But there is not over one chance in ten that this will take place, and scarcely this that wealth will be left by those who inherit it. While of those in business on any date, one-fourth drop out in five years, one-half in ten, and two-thirds in fifteen years.

Nine places out of ten thirty years hence are therefore open to those who to-day have nothing.—Philadelphia Press.

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BUSINESS CHEATING

Your prize-fighter has some honor in him yet; and so have the men in the ring round him: they will judge him to lose the match by foul hitting. But your prize-merchant gains his match by foul selling, and no one cries out against that. You drive a gambler out of the gambling-room who loads dice, but you leave a tradesman in flourishing business who loads scales! For observe, all dishonest dealing is loading scales. What difference does it make whether I get short weight, adulterate substance, or dishonest fabric?—unless that flaw in the substance or fabric is the worse evil of the two. Give me short measure of food, and I only lose by you; but give me adulterate food and I die by you.—John Ruskin.

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BUSINESS MEN IN CHURCH

Dr. Crafts asked a prominent business man of Chicago, who has been active in the very heart of its commercial life for sixteen years, to make a careful list of its one hundred richest men, and then tell him how many of them were church-members. His report was, “Seventy church-members, twenty-four attend church, and I think are not members; three I consider dissipated, and three are Jews, who are good citizens.”

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BUSINESS, RELIGION IN

Altho Mrs. J. Alden Gaylord conducts a bond-investment business in Wall Street, she firmly believes that financial success can be gained in that “frenzied” business center by godly spiritual guidance. Mrs. Gaylord has achieved the distinction of taking over the management of the affairs of her late husband and running them on original lines. Says the New York Herald:

Seated in a spacious office, this plucky little woman spends her time discussing with her clients the flotation of security issues and the financing of railway lines. Religious mottoes are posted on the walls, and a Testament and prayer-books occupy a conspicuous place on the desk.

“Yes, every morning after I arrive in this city,” said Mrs. Gaylord, “I spend a few minutes in Old Trinity to pray. That was a custom of my husband’s, who was one of the most godly men that lived. Before we begin business here we have a prayer-meeting in the office. I have a good many young men here to whom I am teaching the business. I conduct the services, assisted by my partner, Mr. Fletcher.

“We carry on our work here according to the teaching of the Scriptures. Even if I make only one-quarter of one per cent, that is enough. And business is coming in from every part of the country. It is perfectly wonderful. Only yesterday two loans came in—one for $3,000,000 and another for $2,000,000.

“The deals will be closed to-morrow. I believe the Lord has educated me in all this. I know He is helping me, and the money I make will all go to the Lord. I only want to provide for my grandchildren. All the rest will go to charity and missions.” (Text.)

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BUYING, GOOD

Not very long ago a lawyer accompanied his wife to a Harlem market in New York, and while she made some purchases, he watched a woman beside him select meats for an unusually large order. So extensive were her purchases that he grew interested. Later he found himself forgetting quantity in admiration for the judgment and care she was exercising in her buying. After she left, his curiosity got the better of him. “Do you mind telling me,” said he to the clerk, “who that woman was? I think I never saw one who bought so well.”

“Not at all,” was the answer. “She’s Mrs. X, and she keeps a boarding-house on Y Street,” naming a number almost opposite the man’s home. “She personally inspects every piece of meat she serves on her table, and I tell you her boarders get the best. You can’t fool her.”

“I’ve found a place to take our meals in the next domestic crisis,” was the thought that flashed into the man’s mind. This kind of boarding-house keeper was not the sort he had known in the days of his bachelor wanderings.—The Evening Post.

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By-products—See Utilizing Seed.

By-products of Seaweed—See Utilizing Seaweed.