The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, May 12, 1895, Page 23

In Childh THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, MAY 12, 1895 23 by, b Bianket streety for tired fe ssing Bridge,” ou're sure to meet. t we are there, e-crib square. 1e.as the driven snow, blossom-time snow, you tt and piniand bare. in Blanket street Pigs so often meet; ¢ alweys goes squeak, squeak, ever is cold and bleak, anket street. as well as sings, but never stings; ©Oh com ¥or " th s say wonderful ARY D, HATCH. Contrasts in Child Life, In New York paper, are designated by the name of paper dolls. These dolls are carefully seg- regated as to their nationalities and are again subdivided into epochs, historicall speaking. They are kept in large envel- opes procured for the purpose, and many of them have seyeral changes of costume, designed with fidelity and intelligence by their small owner. The individuals of the little historian’s large and growing family are not by an means exclusively feminine. Kings, phil- osophers, martyrs and generals dwell in peace and concord with the nymphs of poetry and dames of the First Empire. Each ‘“‘dolly” has its name inscribed upon the back. If the picture is not of a celebrity of any age or land it is given a cognomen possible to its character and assigned to its proper e;lsloch. Not only is the “mother” of the paper dolls uncunsciousl{ absorbing a great store of historical knowledge, but all the house- hold and many who dwell outside the gates have been rubbing up their dim recollections of the heroes and heroines of life and letters. ‘‘Papa, who was Py- thagoras ?”” and ‘*“When did the Frenchmen begin_ to wear Wellington boots?” are | questions not to be left unanswered. Stately minuets have to be danced by our family of paper dolls, and great care and study are necessary ir order to be sure that no impossible persons are invited. Napoleon must not dance with Mrs. Wash- ington, because he never saw her, and an Apache Indian must not come to the ]mrl}v, because the ladies would be iright- ened. When battles are fought the right gen- { erals must win of course, and the Red Cross | nurses must not go out to take care of sol- diers who died too long ago. It is easy to see that thereis a chance for the child to learn of the progress of the world in a better way than any book has ever taught it. and to form an accurate idea of the changes in the people, their costumes and their natures. Pictures are to-day almost a new lan- guage, flowing from the finger-tips of men who could not in endless columns express so well the real conditions, past, present and imaginary. Give the children the full advantage of the world of pictures, and art will have fulfilled its greatest possibilities for good. Dorothy and Dolly. You're goin’ to wear your longest and prettiest white dress to-day, my deatie lit- tle dolly girl, an’ play that you is my little baby sister. Long time ago my mamma used to say | that some day she would buy me a really meat baby sister to play with. I gotso tired an’ go tired of waitin’ an’ waitin’, an’ n v mamma just only says to go 'way ot to bother when I tell about that. spose she don’t want to buy any more Iy N -.&‘fgfg 3, NG THE COMING WOMAN. [From a photograph by Marceaw.] séven-league boots for stepping from the babitat of one order of child to the domain of another. The Spectator has found a 1 interest in walking for a block amid rming children of squalor and filth, then just turning a step aside to find himself in another world for babies. It is a better world, of course; but to the eyes of a newcomer New York is the hardest of cities upon its children, whetlier born to the gutter or to the purpte. With a flutter of laces and velvets, 1 nd satins, the baby-carriages of avored sweep by like triumphant chariots. Little toddlers walk beside their nurses, sedate in their harlequin ap- parel—clothes seems a word inadeguate. Are these the dear delights for boyhood? The Spectator has passed down such a line of nurses and their royal charges with a longing born mightily in his soul to give 3 Pinafore party—the pinafores 1ded by himseli and made of brown holland. At the entrance door all apparel should be exchanged for pinafores, theenter- tainment in the receptior a sand-heap for “Sebastopol,” that delight- ful game of the Spectator's childhooa; nor WO the wherewithal for mud-pies be absent. Though the street-child on its native hearth is not a happy sight for any child- lover, by law of contrast it may become a relief to see the children playing freely in the gutters. To reach this state of mind -gone must first share an experlence which as the Spectator’s not many days ago. Discovering an immediate need of a 4-cent article, he ventured into an ‘“‘emporium’’ where he was told to seek it, or rather he let himself drift with a human maelstrom and was swept into the salesroom. Having waited ten minutes for a clerk, the Specta- tor seéured one, selected the purchase, paid for it, and waited again for the system of checking and wrapping to be carried out. After « second.ten minutes thus wasted (five minutes for each cent spent) the ectator’s mounting impatience resolved itself into a question, “Why is this?” There seemed no dearth of clerks, and all worked with nervous haste. The reason was not far to seek. The clerks were for the most part children. There were a few women scattered here and there, but chil- dren. were the chief employes. As the Spectator watched their work he wondered that anything was correct or on time.— The Outlook. Evolution of the Paper Doll. The evolution of the paper doll has reached a stage which makes those erst- while frivolous creatures interesting even to the wise and the dignifiea. In the first place, some clever person invented dolls with wardrobes historically accurate. That is to say, a dolly with her hair dressed after the fashion indulged in by Marie Antoinette would be possessed of a series 4 of costumes in the styles worn during the eign of that unfortunate sovereign. Qolo- nial dolls, Greek dolls, early English dolls, all were pretty and, quite incidentally, very instructive. One small girl of my acquaintance has, with suggestions and practical assistance from some of her eld- ers, carried the plan of historic dolis a 10;1: way. 5 ‘rom illustrated periodicals, posters, ad- vertising cards, in fact all gnnceiv'able sources, she has gleaned an enormous which, when carefully room should be | j little babies, ’cause she has to go to so | much meetings an’ things she ain’t got no | time to tend to childrens. My papa says she don’t hardly love anything any more but a old club. An’ | she goesto see "bout it most all the time, | an’ when she comeshome again Iam 'most always 'fraid she might bring the club home with her; an’ so sometimes I hide behind the door, an’ bime-by I just peeks | out to see if she’s zot it. I didn’t ever see | it yet, but I didn’t look very hard, ’cause I B oodshealm self. An’Idon’t guess if she had a really truly soft, warm, meat baby what lived at her house that she would hit it with that ole bad club. , I are got a big stick my own self, dolly, but I just only keep it out in the barn for fun, 'cause Jadies like clubs. But I aint never goin’ to write no letters to it, nor bake no great big lovely cakes for it, what you can’t have none of. An' I ain’t never goin’ out to the barn all 'lone to see it when you wants to come with me nor when your nice little papa are got a bad headache an’ wants some tea an’ toast. An’ I ain’t never, never goin’ to bring that ole stick in the house to scare my little childrens with, what ain’t got no more mammas but only me. I loves you pretty much, little dolly, an’ I don’t want | to make you feel bad. But if I could 'ford to buy a Teally meat baby what could c good an’ loud most all the time, I'd love it whole bumbles an’ bumbles more than all A Yankee Napoleon—*“Bring on your Duke of Wellington.” [From St. Nicholas.) th: dreadful ole bad clubs what anybody’s got. Philosophy of Babyland. Little Dot—Is it hotter in the country than in the city? Little Dick—Course not. Little Dot—Then why does men wear thick clothes and warm hats in the city, and then when they go to the country put on- thin clothes and straw hats?—Good News. SSEENS Ethel—It's too bad it’s cold. I prayed for a warm day. Does God always answer prayers? Mamma—Yes, if you ask for a thing in the right way,and if you don’t here- proves you by not giving it to you. Ethel—On, I see now. The governess told me to try and say my prayersin French this month, and I guess I made mistakes.—Hariem Life. Mnmmn—\\'h_\iflon’t yougo and do the errand I told you to? Freddie—I want to sit here and see the company that’s coming to Mrs, Smith’s. “How do you know there is any com- ing?" “I saw Robbie wash his hands.” ~Inter- Ocean. Sunday-school teacher—What kind of boys go to heaven? Small boy—Dead ones.—Brooklyn Life. Frances and her papa had a few squares to go and the latter asked: “Frances, shall we walk or take the streetcars?’’ “Well, papa,” replied the little girl, “I’l1 walk if you'll carry me.”’—Bazar. A little fellow of five years fell and cut his upper lip so badly that a doctor had to be summoned to sew up the wound. In her distress the mother could not refrain from saying: “Oh, doctor, figuring scar.” Tommy looking up into her tearful face said: “Never mind, mamma, my mus- tache will cover it.”—Tit-Bits. I fear it will leave a dis- A Hard Prescription.—*“You must let SECRETS OF STATE. don’t want to see it much. It's a pretty awfully bad thing I can know, ’cause’my papa 1s *fraid of it, an’ he don’t ever be fraid ’bout anything. When my really mamma said the club was comin’ to our house some day my papa looked so ’fraid he was mostlz sick. An’ he said when the time comed be was goin’ to go to some place what I can’t ‘member the name of. I'm goin’ to tease an’ tease him to take me, dolly, an’ T'll take you in my. arms, you poor little bit dolly girl, an” I'll stand on the steps an’ holler awtul if he begins to go "thout us. The funny ole man what carries away our ashes use to poun’ an’ poun’ his poor ole horse with a club 'cause it was ti wouldn’t go. Then my. really mamma number of people cut out after being mounted upon stiff thinked a club was awful dreadful her own | the baby have one-cow’s milk to drink every day.” “Very well, if you say so, doctor,” said the Perplexe«i young mother; “but % really don’t see how he is going to hold it all.”— Babyhood. z A curious phenomenon is reported on Lake Winnebago. In the middle of the winter the ice cracks open, the fissure ex- | tending lengthwise of the lake and almost | exactly midway between the east #nd the west shores. This opening avera from three to six feet in_width, and is nearly thirty jmiles long—Milwaukee Wisconsin. e —————— Southey’s mother was a woman of rare excellence, and deeply impressed her own individuality on the poet. A Scientist in Fiction: In the preface to a clever enough novel just published in this country, the author, Mr. Grant Allen, gives, for the bemnefit of young aspirants in letters, some data re- garding his own progress. He calls it a record of his upward path to a modest de- gree of popularity with the reading public. In reality it might be called the record of his literary unmaking. Grant Allen says rightly that he was not born a novelist, but was made one. Phil- osophy and science were the first loves of his youth. In the days of hisenthusiasm he did considerable work that was literary as well as scientific. He had that rare gift which few scientists possess, of putting scientific facts so clearly, 0 simply that he who ran might read, yet with such grace- ful literary facility that the scholar could but enjoy. 3 In an evil hour temptation came to Mr. Allen as it comes to most of us. He yielded, as do many of us, deserted the thorny peth of science, with its few emolu- ments, and took to romance writing as wany another’ man has taken to stock- brokerage and the produce commission business—because there was more money in it. He expresses the truth very patly when he confesses that an enterprisin publisher turned him from an innocentan impecunious naturalist into a devotee of the muse of shilling shockers. 'Tis a pity—for while the muse of shilling shockers (Grant Allen is more severe upon _his own fiction than any one else would be) has devotces a plenty, there are few writers in this age and generation who can turn out such works as ‘“‘Physiological ZEsthetics,” Mr. Allen’s first book, or even such as his delightful “Vignettes from Nature,”” and the various scientific papers that he has from time to time sent forth. These are by far his best work. Kegan Paul published “Physiological Esthetics’ nearly twenty years ago. The book found some lovers. Darwin and Herbert Spencer and other people of that sort read it, liked it and welcomed the young man as a coming kindred spirit. *Vignettes From Nature” and a series of popular articles on certain phases of evolution appeared in the St. James Gazette, and were after- ward published in book form. And yet Grant Allen’s contributions to fiction— some half a dozen romances, not one of them much above the mediocre—are the work upon which his reputation rests. Some time since the present writer made the rounds of the local bookstores to pro- cure one of Mr. Allen’s books of scientitic | essays. In one of the leading bookstores in the gil.y'the proprietor greeted the searcher Grant Allen. with, “Grant Allen? Grant Allen is a writer of fiction. He has never published anything of a philosophical sort.” The incident was amusing at the time, and had a very pleasant sequel. Being used to “point a moral and adorn a tale” in an- other connection, some kindly and well- informed reader of the CALL took occasion to send the writer a cogg of the very book of Allen’s that had been sought for in vain. But to all intents and purposes Grant Allen is now known only as a writer of fic- tion. The better promise of his young manhood is forgotten by all but a few. To the world at large he is a novelist, whether he be regarded as good, bad or indifferent. The measure of success he has attained in this line. he tells us, is the result of a ten ears’ struggle that has left him broken in ienlth and spirit, with all the vitality and vivacity crushed out of him. His advice to other men of aspiration is: “‘Don't take to literature if you've capital enough in hand to buy a good broom and energy enougn to annex a vacant crosslpfi." All this is very sad, and essentially weak on Mr. Allen’s part. That he has met the world and been conguered by it is not wholly the fault of the world. There are some successes that are more humiliating than failure, and of these he is one. He is in the position of that worthy of old who sold his birthright for a mess of potage. Only, he nows sits wailing his bargain and warning othersaway from the fleshpot rather than from the barter. The shame of Grant Allen’s position is that, able to do the greater thing, he chose the lesser. Such being the case, it would seem the wiser part for him to %mtxceg manly ab- stinence from such feeble wailings as char- acterize the preface of his book now under consideration. This book, ‘At Market Value,” isa story of English life. A certain nobleman, de- sirons to be known and loved for himself alone, disappears, becomes a common sea- man, then a struggling artist and finally an Arctio voyager. Heloves a girl who re- turns his affection, but he goes away from her because he fancies she has all along known his real rank and position. He sits supinely by while in the House of Lords he hears himself declared legally dead, and his successor recognized. Then he turns to authorship, wins a name in fiction, dis- vers that his ladylove was true after all. fley are married and settle down to life as Mr. and Mrs. Arnold Wulonmx, his claim to the title being fully a oued. The story is well and interestingly told in Grant Allen’s best style. [Chicago: F. Tennyson Neely]. Our Money Wars. This book, to which its author, Samuel Leavitt, has given the sub-title, “The BEx- ample and Warning of American Fi- nance,” is a condensation of the chief financial events, data and arguments that have been chronicled during the past twenty years in the literature of what is now called the Populist party. It is in reality a cyclopedia of facts about Amer- ican money, arranged in chronological order, from the year 1600 down to the present day. Taken as such the book is an epitome of information upon the sab- ject with which it deals. Mr. Leavitt Eluu none of his facts unverified, and the result of his labors is a work that cannot but be exceedingly useful to the stu- dent of values. ’ The reco beg’llns with the year 1600, when wampum, the Indian money of the colonies redeemable in beaver skins, was legal tender in sumsup to £10. The his- tory of wampum is carried down to the year 1704, when it was still classed as cur- rency on the Connecticut shore. In 1690 the first issue of paper money in America was made by Massachusetts in order to pay off the soldiers sent on an expedition against the French in Canada. From that time on the facts as compiled by the author go to show that paper money came continually to the relief of the colonists from the rapacity of England. Later, when the British yoke was thrown off, the era of service began for the treasury note, which in turn was succeeded by the green- back era. S But while as a collection of facts con- cerning the growth of the American money system Mr. Leavitt’s book is of value, he who goes to it for enlightened leadership upon questions of finance will find little satisfaction. His “theories” are for the most part the editorial utterances of par- | tisan newspapers from all parts of the country. ]gis panacea for all our financial ills is a convertible currency. He deals at length with the great historic financial panics of 1837, of 1857, 1873, 1885 and 1893, and finds for each a separate explanation; finds each to have been the resultofa series of circumstances- that might have been averted by a different financial policy. That there may be, underlying our regu- larly recurring seasons of hard times, a law based upon something permanent in our industrial institutidns, and only indirectly affected by the machinations of foreign ‘““operators,” domestic *‘gold bugs,” Wall- street ‘‘manipulators’” or even by the theories of well-meaning populistic “infia- tionists,” seems not to enter Mr. Leavitt's calculations. b He has weakened what might have been the wholesome influence of his book by in- dulgence in personal vituperation of the various leaders and blunderers who have from time to time undertaken to steer the National bark among the rocks and shoals of finance. While he is unquestionably right in many of his arraignments his in- temgemte presentation of the matter in hand is enough to cause the rejection of his work, save as a book of reference. As such it will be found exceedingly useful in a variety' of ways. [Boston: The Arena Publishing Company. For sale at the Popular okstore, 10 Post street, San Francisco.] The Helpful Science. In these days, when physics, social and political science and accounts of slum life divide with fiction the honors of public interest, it is a novel and pleasant sensa- tion to have one’s attention arrested by an essay in purely philosophical thought. Such an essay is St. George Mivart’s “The Helpful Science,” just issued by Harper & Brothers. While traveling far afield in the realm of metaphysics, the author has a particu- larly clear and simple habit of thought and expression that renders him easy to follow. His essay starts with the attempt to bring home to the reader the fact that certain very practical questions have been crowded out in the unconscious competi- tion for the attention of ‘mankind which may be called the struggle for existence of the arts and sciences. Three things are necessary in order to enter upon the in- vestigation of the ultimate foundation of all physical science and all rules of con- duct. ~These three things are perceptions of certain general rinciples, per- ceptions of certain facts and per- ceptions of the validity of certain arguments. Into a consideration of these principles, facts and arguments the essavist enters at length. hat he'terms ‘‘the helpful science’’ is the science of meta- physics, a study of which is incumbent on all' who desire to lead a well-ordered and reasonable life. Reason he postulates as the ultimate test of certainty; while sen- sations are an aid to judgment, yet itis to intellectualism as opposed to sensism that all questions must be referred for final judication. To the realm of pure reason, therefore, he confines his entire argument, leading the reader by almost imperceptible degrees into the domain of metaphysics; metaphysical knowledge, he insists, lying at the root of all that is either good or true in human life. In a study of this science, those who are willing to undertake the needful self-interrogations and observa- tions of things external will find the com- mon foundation upon which repose the first principles of religion, morals, art and the physical and social sciences. The book is timely, and will prove a useful beacon- light to the many who feel the need of guidance in the wilderness of materialistic thought, which we seem at present to be traversing. |New York: Harper & Bros. For sale by Payot, Upham Co., San Francisco.] A Little Sister to the Wilderness. Under this charming title Stone & Kim- ball send out a beautiful littie book by Lilian Bell. Stone & Kimball are doing some very handsome bookmaking, and the present volume, both within and without, is above the ordinary. The scene islaid in the West Tennessee bottom land. Mag, the heroine, is a veritable little sister of the wilderness. She knows the birds; she loves ‘every beast of the field and creeping thing of the earth. She loves nature as nature’s own child always does, and she knows little else. Wealth, educa- tion, refinement she imagines must of necessity bring goodness, mnobility and happiness to their fortunate possessor, ‘When her eyes are opened to the fact that they do not the shock is a terrible one, In a storm, on the levee, she saves the life of a famous circuit-rider named Camden, with whom her own life and spiritual ex- periences become closely knit up. Together they nurse the whole countryside through a siege of yellow fever, and out of great tribulation joy comes to them. The char- acter of Camden is strongly and artistically drawn, but the chief interest of the story centers about Mag, or Margaret, and the development of that strong, pure, but fettered and inarticulate soul, under Cam- den’s influence, is skillfully portrayed. The book is well written, in a simple, un- affected way, and a favor which the long- suffering American public is in a position to appreciate is that the author has es- chewed diuecl‘ and tells her tale in “plain United States,” which, it seems, is after all spoken and understood in West Ten- nessee. [Chicago: Stone & Kimball.] Among the Northern Hills. A volume of pleasant “‘woodsy”’ essays, much after the manner of England’s past master in woodcraft, Richard Jefferies. The author is Dr. W. C. Prime, whose charming bits of out-of-doors, “Along New England Roads” ana “I Go a-Fishing,” are familiar stories of this sort of literature. The present volume is a collection of short essays and sketches, dealing with every- day matters, in doors and out among the hiflu in rural New England. Whether wandering in the primeval forest, leading his followers up a trout stream, idling with an old angler, discussing doughnuts and tobacco, or ngpening ‘1? accident in n an old-fashioned New England Thursday night prayer meeting, Dr. Prime is always a delightful companion, a lover of nature and of man, a thinker of true thoughts and simple, who is not ashamed to show his heart to his fellows. Heis wholesome and entertaining always, in- structive often and never uninteresting. His book is a welcome breath from the New England hills. [New York: Harper 8 ]Bros. For sale by Payot, Upham 0., Mr. Bonaparte of Corsica. Readers who have enjoyed John Ken- drick Bangs’' clever whimsies in “The Idiot” and “The Water Ghost and Others” will not feel that this author has added anything either to their enjoyment or his own reputation by this latest book. To juggle with facts and characters of history as Mr. Bangs has essayed to doin “Mr. Bonaparte of Corsica” is exceedingly deli- cate work. The line between humor and buffoonery is very lightly drawn, and he is a fortunate writer wgo succeeds in keeping upon the pleasanter side of that line. Mr. Bangs has not entirely succeeded in doing this. In his facetious account of the life pand adventures of the great Corsican he is often humorous, oftener clownish, and oftenest of all merely dreary and uninter- esting. The pretty play of whimsical in- vention, the delicate” inconsequence of “The Idiot” is wholly missing from this later book, and not even the fact that the resent Napoleonic craze is in danger of eing overdone can blind us to the other fact that “Mr. Bonaparte of Corsica’ is de- cidedly underdone—in a word, very raw indeed. The illustrations by McVicar are the best thing about the book. [New York: Harper & Bros. publishers. For sale by Payot, Upbam & Co. and the Popular bookstore.] Judge Ketchum’s Romance. Jack Tantallon, Earl of Tantallon, a British nobleman—the British commoner is a rara avis in English fiction—is crossed in love, and comes to America, to Cali- fornia, in the good old style. He makes an enemy of a member of the Bohemian Club, who, when Jack goes up to the mines (all English noblemen who are crossed in love and, come to California go to the mines), gets some one to assassinate him. Of course, Jack does not die. He is narsed back to health by a half-drunken Justice of the Peace, Judge Ketchum, a true backwoods mining camp original, in whom Jack discovers ason of the black- sheep of the house of Tantallon, the real Earl and heir. Of course, Jack abdicates at once and takes the long-lost uncle and his nretty daughter back to England. The “Judge” has, it seems, in early life run away with the wife of Jack’s best friend, a man much older than Jack. When confronted with the man he has wronged the American- bqf)rn Eafl of Tn’lr‘ll:allon xasdthe race to die of apoplexy. e pretty daughter proves tobe a6 bis daughtg.r, bt the child of the deserted husband, so that Jack is again Harl of Tantallon. He is reconciled with his old sweetheart and becomes a bright and shining light in the British peerage. The author, Horace Annesley Vachell, tells his somewhat inflated story very well. [New York: J.Selwin Tait & Sons. For sale by the Popular bookstore, 10 Post street, San Francisco.] “The Fair Maid of Fez.’’ A wretched jumble of a tale, by St. George Rathborne, who takes his reader by flying leaps from the Occident to the Orient, of a sort that would have turned the celebrated flying horse of the ‘‘Arabian Nights'” wild with envy. Andy North, the hero, to recover certain papers, the import of which the reader never does find out, starts for Morocco. In six weeks he is back in New York, havinfi journeyed to Morocco, made his way through a desert sirocco to Fez, where he rescues an Ameri- | can damsel in distress, kicks up a shindy between rival claimants to the throne, and in the melee attacks and wounds the Sul- tan’s Grand Vizier, who has the sought-for gupers concealed in his bosom; has a undred or so hairbreadth escapes, and returns with his documents. The Grand Vizier, who is_a renegade American, fol- lows him to New York, takes Inspector Byrnes and the entire “‘finestin the world” into his confidence and hires them all to assist him in a gigantic scheme for a truly oriental revenge upon his foe. At the last moment Byrnes and the force declare themselves. The villain is caught in his own toils and the ridiculous tale ends. [New York: The Home Book Company.] A Daughter of the Soil. A commonplace story of English coun- try life, written by M. E. Francis, whose | first venture in fiction it would seem to be. There is an Englishman who returns from India after years of absence and marries a young girl, “a daughter of the soil,” much beneath him in social position. In the midst of their felicity a first wife ap- gears, and there is confusion and woe for a ozen or so chapters. Ruth, the deceived wife, goes away and the recreant husband returns to number one, who, when the agony becomes unbearable, has the con- sideration to die, whereupon the widower flies to Ruth, whom he remarries, and the curtain is rang down upon a scene of true domestic bliss. |[New York: Harper & Bros. For sale by Payot, Upham & Co., San Francisco.] The Mystery of Cloomber. A. Conan Doyle’s book, “The Mystery of Cloomber,”” although written in an interest- ing style, is scarcely equal to some of his other productions. If his fame rested solely on this volume he would probably never have been heard of. Although not a startling ‘‘mystery,” there is enough of the supernatural to keep the reader’s at- tention engaged to the end, for though one can almost guess what the fateful crisis will be, still he reads on and on to make assurance doubly sure. The general at- mosphere of the book is weird and un- canny as comports with a “mystery,” but there is just enough of a romance to make a pleasing rift in the cloudy sky. One can scarcely help wondering how the flower of love could thrive in such a murky clime. [New York: R. F. Fenno & Co.] + God’s Light as It Came to Me. A little book, imbued with a deeply religious spirit. The author, whose name is not given, but who is evidently a woman, gives an account of her entrance from mere intellectual acceptance of doc- trines into_the fullness of the higher Chris- tian life. Her argument leads to the con- clusion that God’s principle of love, which is the foundation of his universe, vitalizes all, and_endures through eternity. How- ever suffering may be our conditions, they eternally fulfill God’s law of infinite growth, and the believer becomes, himself, ceasing all conscious effort, a part of the divine principle. [Boston: Roberts Bros. For sale by the Popular bookstore, 10 Post street, San Francisco.] Literary Landmarks of Jerusalem. Readers of Laurence Hutton’s other books in this line, “Literary Landmarks’’ of London and of Edinburgh, will expect pleasant things of this litile volume, and will not be disappointed. The book is de- signed to fill a real want felt by all who visit Jerusalem. It is small, convenient to carry and tells ina nutshelf exactly what one wants to know ‘‘on the spot’” of the various points of interest in the Holy City. It is well and elaborately illustrated by Frank V. Du Mond, who visited Jerusalem last year for this purpose. [New York: Harper & Bros. For sale by Payot, Upham & Co., San Francisco.] “Los Cerritos.” This is a new edition, by Lovell, Coryell & Co., of Gertrude Franklin Atherton’s story of early Californian life. Although Mrs. Atherton has done much worse since this tale first appeared, she has done noth- ing that is stronger or better in execution. ‘e have no writer in California who has 80 thoroughly entered into the spirit and surroundings of that romantic time—be- fore the Gringo came—as Mrs. Atherton. Neither ‘Los Cerritos” nor any other book of the sort will, in all probability, ever be as famous as was “Ramona,” but the story in question is well worthy to rank beside Mrs. Jackson’s romance. [New York: Lovell, Coryell & Co.] *In the Old Chateau.”” A story of Russian Poland, by Richard Henry Savage. Like all of Mr. Savage's books it is full of action, of intrigue, and of interest. It deals with the times when & | Russia was engaged in the task of remov- ‘ing Poland, as a %fliucal entity, from the map of Europe. The sympathies of the er are enlisted against the Poles. There is a certain amount of historic fact to serve as warp for the weft of romance which the author has woven, and the whole makes a readable tale. [Chicago: J. T. Neely. For sale by the San Fran- cisco News Company.] A Seventh Child. “The seventh child of a seventh child is gifted with the second sight.” Upon this hypothesis the author of the book in question, John Strange Winter, builds a highly improbable but not unin- teresting romance, Her ‘‘Seventh Child,” a girl, has the uncanny gift of second sight and ‘‘sees things’ at the most opportune times in a way that works like a charm in unraveling all the tangled threads of the story. [New York: J. gelwin Tait & Sons. For'sale by the Popular bookstore, 10 Post street, San Francisco.] “Naval Cadet Carlyle’s Glove.” A feebly constructed narrative, the plot of which hinges upon a secret marriage and the unexpected production of the glove of oneof the contracting parties. There are some good bits in the book, descriptive of Southern life and character, with which the author, Iona Oakley Gorham, is evi- dently pleasantly familiar. [New York: J. Selwin Tait & Sons. For sale at the Popular Bookstore, 10 Post street, San Francisco.] As many as 1500 packages of cut flowers are being shipped at Calais daily from the south of France for markets in London and the north of England. They consist chiefly of violets. MALARIAL MANIFESTATIONS Several Different Forms of Malaria and Each Form Bad for the Entire System. MALARIA CAN BE AVOIDED. It Leads to Rheumatism, Coughs and Colds, Because It Reduces the Tone of the System. ‘The doctor and I talked yesterday. Wespoke about malaria. I asked the questions, he did the answering. We got on swimmingly be- cause I was endeavoring to learn and he was trying to teach. I will give you my lesson on malaria and what the doctor said: “My son, malaria is a germ disease. 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Use Joy’s Vegetable Sarsapérilla. “When your system is thoroughly poisoned with malaria every organ of the body becomes inactive,” so said the doctor. After leaving the doctor I called on a neigh- ‘boring druggist.. I asked for a bottle of Joy's Vegetable Sarsaparilla. He did not want to seil it. He tried to sell hisown. He told me many things which my sense of reason dictated was not strietly correct. I made him wrap up a bottle of Joy's Vegetable Sarsaparilla, for I refused his substitute. DR. PIERCE'S GALVANIC /A AkE TIRED OF dx0g A Eing and wishtoob- speedy relief an permanent cure, :v'x’;"y ot iy ELECTRICITY? It does the work when medicines fail, giving life and vigor to weak men and women as if by magic. Get an Electric Belt and be sure to get & good one while you are about it. Dr, Pierce’s Belt is fully described in our new English, French and Geriman pamphict. Call or write for & free copy. Address MAGNETIG TRUSS CO. (Dr. Pierce), 704 Sacramento street, San Francisco. Office hours: 8 A. M tll 7 P2 Sundays from 9 to 10 A. . only.