The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, February 24, 1901, Page 8

7 ““cience T flebq‘l , = our” LHINS ' 2 Criste A Michel /772 * You know I am not very long on the . ®-ban-G . fame. @4{ e (Copyrighted.) l IFE is the sum total of the | general functions of the body. It can be perfect and enjoyable only wchen | all the organs are properly and har-| moniously rking, for the fumc-| tion of each orgam is an intrinsic| part of life. As soon as one fails | life is incomplete, and the failure is | woiced or made apparent by symp- toms of impaired health. These organic functions or vital processes being the actual mechan-| ism of life, it is indispensable that | the people should have on insight into the principal ones, so as to real- | ize their importance. THE BRAIN—The brain is the organ which gemerates the nerve force and merve impulses with wwhich it activates and controls all the o of the body. The front- the brain, known as the mind re- where a narcotic or anesthetic | longer perceived, e be freely used. e brain ceases function- ns of the body cease | 1 The part h ceases function~ lla oblongata, action of the mind has died. ies as the mori- sensatio | even if 1177 , but the 1ta continues to send to the heart and for hours, and last sparks of life \without the steam; they are capable uncfions of ~ THE NERVES—Nerves are the off shoots of the brain and spinal cord, and consist of motor and sens- ory fibers. Through their motor fibers the brain sends out impulses to the limbs and all organs, and thereby actuates all the functions of the body. Through the sensory fibers all sensations received travel up to the brain, the center of percep- tion. When a nerve ceases func- tioning through injury or disease, or its central origin in the bram or spinal cord is injured or diseased, the organ or limb to which it is dis- tributed also becomes functionless, i. e., paralyzed. The merves are like machinery of great energy; they have a natu- ral power which is apt to be almost indefinitely increased by trainmng, but the blood is the steam behind that machinery. THE SKIN — The skin is an organ the functions of which are various and highly im- portant. (1) By its sweat glands and pores it throws out, like the kidneys, the exces.graf fluid and impurities pggsent im the blood. This function is essential to life, and still more so when the kidneys are overtaxed or diseased. (2) It is also through its sweat glands that the skin throws off the excess of body heat, thus acting as a safe- ty valve, without which we could live summer. (3) Unless bruised, diseased or injured in any| the skin is germ proof, and uch stands as a barrier to dis- ease germs, thereby protecting the body from disease. Y perspiration of the skin, which is a constant function, s so not n important that in the event of ex- tensive burns or scalds, with large areas of skin destroyed, death re- sults from the loss of this function. These warious functions should convince the reader of the mecessity wncn run parts of the down. It is wat the impulses brain to the I nbs and to the in- ernal organs to pro- TSREF {5 that the sensa- 1 and unctio is also internal or- ed to the brain. the spinal cord | | germs, and the part should be pro- vith an antiseptic dressing to |- avoid blood poisoning. For this purpose, when nothing else is at of keeping the skin healthy by bath- ing and friction. When the skin is bruised, diseased or injured it is no longer invulnerable to disease te hand, seline or lard may be used. THE HEART—This organ e paralysis | has two distinct, non-communica- | Wt red 9 : . - §<3 RED attended & Bernhardt- Coquelin performance of L’Mg-’ lon. He was a first nighter in | the “general admission” department. | Being ‘an American resident of San Francisco and of non-French-speak- | ing tongue, he did the best he could | for the money toward understanding the play and giving applause at the proper time. In order that his brother Jim of Lodi might be posted on the general tenor of Rostand’s drama and its ren- dition by the great French actress and | comedian, Fred fortbwith penned a| detailed accourt of the play accord- 4ng to his own lights. The following | was intercepted in the mail: | Dear Jim: The other night I went to #ee the dQivine and the great French comedian. Eay, they are 2il right. and if they should happen to come to Lodi, don't miss them. They do the whole play in French—everybody on the stage talks French, even the cheap guys in the chor- us. It 1= wonderful how they get such well educated people for minor parts. language myself, but still I know a few | words when I hear them. and that is| more than can be sald for a majority of | e audience, judging from the un-ap-| bro-po remarks that I heard. I'm not | Very sure on my French spelling. I write | the words as I hear them. Those who know, don’t say *“Sarah Bernhardt”—that is horribly English. You must say Say-rah, with the accent on the and Bairn-nah, with the accent on | h"—that Is If you want 1o be Tists s a hard one to meke good on. 1 saw them In “Legdong”-—-with the ac- | cent on the “leg.” and “long” struck off | through your no: 1 awell on the pro- | nunciation of these things 8o you can get | them off around Lodi with just the proper “They call this play “Leg-long” after the name of the main character. It is a play of very olden times—eoon after the death of Napoleon of battle of Waterloo | You know in those days they al- ways tried to pick out names for peopie | with special regard to some personal | characterisiic, and as everything = in Fregeh runs backward Mke German so as d well, they cali this heroine ituated be- | tive compartments—the ‘right and of the seat of injury |the left. Its right side aspires and \receives from the large veins the Rrother Jim of Leodf 2 Few L’RigIon Imprgssions. | style furniture and bang-up costumes to f San firanciscc “Leg-long” instead of “Long-leg,” as we would do in Enmgilish. Of course, Say-rah plays the chief part—"Leg-lons.” Judg- ing from the name she fails to make the part quite historically correct. She really is rather short-legged. But she can act all right, so you don't notice it much. The whole plot in a nutshell is that &-long” is the daughter.of the great oleon, and she feels so bad that she n't a boy that she goes a bit daffy er it and insists upon wearing boy's clothes and soldier’s uniforms, and swell- ing it aroind to try and be recognized as a second Napoleon general. She wants to be another Joan of Arc, asft were, bute. - . . . o 0 On hasn’t the physique. case. 1 don't understand much French, but the ecting is so clever that with a few words here #nd there you know just whi is going on. On the level I had to weep once or twice. - “Leg-long” is an awfully dear girl, you can see that through the lines, and it seems too bad that she has to be spoiled by having had such a great father. Some of her relatives are a little cruel with her, but most of them bear with her in her mental afiction. You see whenever these shows In a for- eign tongue come to town they are care- less about printing directions qqp the pro- grammes that they give away because they have books to sell between acts with | the whoie business explained in English. The free programmes have merely the names of the fictitious characters with the name of the actor opposite, but don't give the relationship that these charac- ters bear to “Leg-long.” I Jon't believe in buying books at a show. It is too much like patronizing the side shows at a three-ring circus. As I do not know any of the actors ‘personally it was a little hard for me to connect them with the parts they played, especially as there was a gooa deal of disguising done by dif- ferent ones as the play went on. Still T'll bet 1 kept track of them as well as anybody. There are no real sawmills or steaum en- gines or tanks of water in the plece, but still the settings are all right with old It is really a sad fit the parts. There are six acts and four hours of hard work, so if the show should come up country you'd better take some- thing to eat. They have a bar in the theater down here. I took a §2 standup, for after the first | act you can get a seat in the back of the theater where you can watch the scenic effects in thre crazy scene better than you could up front. You goet ths tcot-and- blood which returns from all parts of the body, and as it beats, propels the same into the lungs, where it is revitalized by the oxygen of the air. Its left side, through a different channel, aspires and receives the same blood from the lungs when it has become charged with oxygen, and as it beats propels it into the arteries, and from there through all the tissues of the body. The heart beat is a sudden contraction of its muscles produced by nervous im- pulses received from the brain. The heart is our most active or- gan; it works day and night with- out rest, and the amount of work it performs in twenty-four hours is verily tremendous, as shown by the following: An adult of average size possesses about five quarts of blood. This quantity as a whole passes through the heart, and is propelled by this organ in the aver- age of forty-five times per hour. This shows that the heart pumps 225 quarts of blood every hour, and over five tons of it in twenty-four hours. The importance of the heart's function is shown by the fact that as soon as the nerves of this organ are touched by a great emotion which causes it to cease beating for an instant the individual faints, and if the shock is so powerful as to prolong its arrest life ceases. THE LUNGS—The lungs have |does an ordinary fire. ries away the impurities of the SANNIS various functions, of which the non-professional people are not aware. (1) They take.in the oxy- gen of the air, which then diffuses through their tissues, vitalizes the blood, and thercby supports the life of the entire organism. Life ceases as soon as the supply of oxygen is cut off, or the health fails wwhen in- sufficient. (2) The lungs, in the act of breathing out, exhale the car- benic acid gas, a waste product of tissue change, which the blood takes up in all parts of the body and gives off in the lungs, where it ex- changes it for oxygen. (3) The lungs, by their expansion, inspire the blood from the large wveins into the right side of the heart, thereby aiding this organ in maintaining the circulation of the blood. THE BLOOD—The functions of the blood are chiefly four, name- Iy: (1) It carries and distributes to all parts of the body the nourish- ment absorbed from the stomach and intestines, with which all tis- sues are kept in constant repair or rebuilt. (2) It carries and distri- butes to all the tissues the oxygen absorbed from the air by the lungs, which keeps up the flame of life, i. e., the combustion of the body, as it (3) It car- body, the carbonic acid gas and waste products resultant from the internal combustion, which it gives A Jalk About the Lenten JSeason By Mrs. Martha Jaft &eniworth. (Copyright, 1301, by Walter B. Gulld.) HATEVER our creed, I think the majority of us look forward to the lenten season with some sort of reverence; some sort of feeling that for a brief little time out of the busy year we will be good, either to oursclves or to some- body else. It seems as if I can look batk to a very few years ago when only Catho- lics and Episcopalians paid any at- tention to Lent. Indeed, many pro- fessed Christians had not the faintest idea of its beginning and end, beyond the fact that it marked the bridge be- tween bleak winter and balmy spring, and meant the shedding of old gar- ments and the donning of new plumage, and that masculine bug- bear, the season of housecleaning. I wish that we might be left to work out our own salvation in the manner which best suits us, but knowing that some of us need spurs in the shape of invitations to sub- scribe to one thing or another, I try to be reconciled to the daily begging letters of enthusiastic workers in the cause of charity. Perhaps they are the penance we need, or part of it, at all events. It is on this very subject I am going to sound a note of warn- ing. i.u a beginning, I will state em- phatically that I believe in lenten charity. I believe in charity at ail seasons. I do not believe that many of us will sigh too heavily over the vanishing dollars when we reflect that they are going to gladden the bearts of the needy. We do complain, too loudly and bitterly, perhaps, to be in strict accordance with a Chris- tian spirit, against being cajoled into subscribing to private enterprises. No friend has a right to put us to such a test. I once heard a young men, who enjoyed a large degree of popularity, complain that the lenten season was a greater strain upon his pocketbook than the holidays, that psamble better. The fourth act is the crazy scene. It is great! Act 11s rather quiet, but it serves its purpose of putting you onto the plot. It is a close-in-veranda scene, with a long boo-le-vard running right straight back out of sight in the distance. Just like one | CO! of those long country lanes with trees on both sides and road kept well watered. Everything showed that the owners of the place were swell people and lived in | Fin; the lap of luxury. There was a tea-party in progress, and suddenly a soldler with a corking uniform and big hat rushed in and began to talk. I think “Leg-long” had been giving him hot air, maybe, and got him a little off, for he began to yell “Vive!” and try to salute. BEvery time he did it they called him down, and fijally threw him out. It showed that she had been getting the sol- dlers to take her part, and her guardians didn’t want to encourage any business of that kind, because the French were excit- able and it might lead to trouble. They knew that “Leg-long” never could make good as a general if trouble started. They were willing to humor her, but they wouldn’t stand any hip-hurrah business from the soldiery. Then a lady read some mlry to quiet things down. And then -rah _herself came in. I spotted her in a second and clapped just as soon as any one. She was dressed all in black and looked very sad and dispirited, as if she had had a bad night. I could see at a glance it was a case of wheels and consumption. The people around humored her just as much as they could and saluted as if she were a man and a great officer. One old fellow even showed her a sample case of badges from which she could make a selection, but she wasn’t much interested. After a bit the crowd cheered and went out. Then a man and a woman came in with stuff on sale. attention while the man could talk to “Leg-long.” This fellow had a whole bunch of military clothes and things, but -closing arguin ‘The woman had hats | N: and gowns to sell to the ladies to get their | in it left him too cramped in means to properly feed and clothe himself, and that he had sometimes been forced to sacrifice his summer vacation in his efforts to retain friendship. Had I belonged to that young man’s cirels of friends I would have endeavored to put an end to that state of affairs by urging him to make a firm stand against such a tax. ‘ It seems that nearly every woman whose good will he desired to keep had some pet charity or plan to ch she devotsad her time in Lent, 1L her friends were expected to supply the capital. I strongly suspect that these projects were like some I can remember in which self represented the charity. However, with pencil and paper, the names of friends—mascu- line, generally—were gathered up, and to each was sent a prettily word- ed note with two seats for a lecturs or concert, two tickets for some enter- tainment, and a postscript stating that the subscription would be re- garded as a personal favor. What man could withstand that? What ‘were clothing and food and rest com- pared with the good favor of the writer? . This was the method adopted by.-a woman who embarked upon s publishing enterprise and openly de- claned that she expected every one of her friends to take a year’s subscrip- tion to her periodical. She had not the slightest regard for the person's taste in the matter; she wanted the money, that was all. I have always thought that It would be a good thing for some of these wonien to hear the remarks of their victims. I think their self- esteem would suffer so severely that, for a time at least, their charity would take some other form. We are none of us proof against censure from the other sex, and would hardly care to repeat an act which had met with disapprobation. We have no right to make an assault upon the pocketbooks of our friends. We may putposs and indisguise. Ho waa one of urpose an 6 was one 0se soldiers who were In favor of start- ing & row and using g-long,”” on ac- her fatner's reputation, as count of 0 | time. Of course he has t Cumspec dnmmly n’:’ make eral t;o‘\;llzle. !;l; :-:: g‘:rew l% mto! the hlua&oy -‘: hl{fl flhal orTgo will be ducoevor.e:t Tt : “Leg-long” got ehumm: awi e gent beat a precipitate retreat en ey are there to hat peo) ymmenced - ing {;p u:bcmc& but Ko-{u pulled out of his pockets a whole thlnkylbout “‘Ley on‘r’e9 ; a mutl:re :2:‘:! were interrupted by the arrival two | lot of stuff—plates and handkerchiefs and | eral has all been as of her &m 8o the man and the | things with mottoes of France and the |dark pocket so far, but now oman to hide behind a screen while | great Napoleon qn them—and *“ -long™ | they bring in the lizhts and all the mum- “hrmlo * kept the n:: l-l'l'ln :‘M& ‘p’_\:y. fg}nmeefl to think t‘l::: -.l?.mwu‘ the real | mers come In to the excellent feed which rtain went dow. ~ ere TosE. - “Tags $ g o - | encotraging tunes outside. It was & 3 e v Sl ot what long"” tle heart-to-heart talk by the table under Lae red light. The next act had some rather exciting Staiit e It Srened Up Julst snogh in a comfortable library with an old ruin on a hill visible through the window. Some soldiers took turns running in and out, and then came “Leg-long” in a hot military suit, all in white, with high gum boots- nicely polished ana a couple of furniture tassels hanging from her belt and two stars on her chest, just llke the Native Sons wear on parade day. ‘Lue same guy who tried to sell the clothes was fhere, this time in full uni- form, and I was glad to see that mv guess that he was a soldier had come true. They had a whole bunch of Purch-and- Judy show soldiers that thc‘y_'l table, and the soldier-man showed ‘Leg- long” a few tricks about war. ‘‘Leg-long” waxed very patriotic and landed some heavy ones on the audience amid much applause. She les the sympathy tarough the ploce right along. After a while an old boy with a black tie and light pants and a long black coat came in. He might have been a banx president or an undertaker. or a commis- sioner for the insane. He was evidently a friend of the family, for he talked straight from the shoulder to the young lady. She swung back with some hot shot, but he got rather the best of it in his ent. Just as he finished with some remarks about the French na- tion being fat-ee-gay, or something to that effect; that they were tired of ths apoleon craze anyway, Ko-kee-lan came and heard him. Well, when Ko-kee got started he t it all over the somber gent in black. o-kee in the play i{s Flambow, or the put on the tell them of our little plans and ac- cept their aid if it is freely offered, and you may be sure it will be, if circumstances permit. A deal better would it be for every woman to use her own pocket money for her char- ity, making it go as far as it will, and making up for its smallness by a bit of sewing or some other good deed. In the mad rush which we call life Lent is the breathing spell which fashion allows its devotees. \It is the time to repair health and good looks, and prepare for a fresh campaign at the summer resorts. The mother of a family of small children usually utilizes Lent for the making of sum- mer wardrobes for the family, super- intending the seamstresses and dress- makers who are engaged, sometimes, a whole year ahead. This is a sensi- ble plan which leaves the warm days enjoyed in a leisurely fashion. One girl of my acquaintance forswears all evening engagements, and devotes the time after 9 o’clock to sleep and beauty repair. At the close of Lent she blossoms out liks the flowers in the gardens and on her pretty Easter hats, and all without a particle of medicine aside from nature’s restorer —sleep. ‘Whatever the motive which actu- ates the use of Lent as a time of rest, every woman ought to make the most of it. “But rest means change” is the usual feminine excuse, as women plunge into new but equally exhaust- ing diversions. Yes, that is one kind of rest, but not the best kind for ac- tive people who have denied them- selves rest for twelve months. A whole month of absolute rest means years of usefulness later on, remem- ber that. We may not all live to a green old age, but we certainly ought to provide for such a contin- gency in a half-way decent manner, at least. A green old age is infinitely preferable to a dry-as-dust, helpless one, which is the lot of some men and ‘women. gluuwlur guardian of the voung lady. e is not exactly trus to his trust, ba. cause while he realizes the futllity of her still he is inchned to en: her a ’little too far in the delusion. case, but you couldn’t help feeling pleas- ure In the enjoyment the poor youn {)hlngt' got out of this momentary patriotic urst. In the third act the uncle came in to expostulate—it was the same stage set- ting—and to try to get “Leg-long’ to quiet down. But he bumped right into Flambow -keeping guard at the young lady's door and all dressed up as one of the old guard of Napoleon, with an immensas drum-major hat and a gun with a bayonet. on it. I guess “Leg-long” made him put on the rig to carry out the idea that she was a second Napoleon. Flam kept the old gent at bay with the bayonet all right. But finally a band of music struck up outside, and in came “Leg-long.” Flam rushed out of the back entrance, and there were two shots fired: but he evi- ently got off O. for he came back all right in the next act. Then comes the heavv business of the act, and it is great. The uncle gets “Leg- long” by the arm, and with a bunch of candles in one hand tc light the way drags her over to the lcoking-glass and lays down the law. He has lost all pa- tience, and has made up his mind to try a strong cure. He makes her look ‘in the mirror at herself ‘in boy’s clothes and the pitiable figure she cuts attired as a man. He telis her she might just as ‘well stop being crazy and settle down to quiet needlework, like any young lady of noble birth. He puts up such a stronz talk and gets the poor girl so excited— for by this time she is groaning aloud— that all of a sudden she grabs the candle- stick from his hand and smashes the heavy plate glass mirror all to pieces. You wouldn’t think to look at her that ! she had so much spunk. It is the old Na- off through the lungs in the expired|occur in Bright's disease. "It is, breath, ihrough the skin with the! however, only through the blood perspiration, and through the kid-| pressure maintained by the force of. neys with the wrine. (4) It pro-|the heart that the kidneys can per- duces about one-half of the body | form their function. heat by its rapid circulation, pre THE PANCREAS—This or- sure and friction in the arteries. gan is situated behind the stomach (The other half of the body heat is| pouch. It secrctes the pamcreatic produced by_the burning up of the | juice, which is. indispensable for oxygen by the tissues.) of the liver are the following: 1—It secretes the bile, which aids in the digestion of the, fats, oils and butter, and which furthermore, by its antiseptic properties, prevenis early fermentation and decomposi- tion of the food in the bowels, thus allowing digestion and assimilation to be completed uninterruptedly. W hen the stools of the adult are ab- normally offensive and yellowish instead of brown, it is an indication that the liver is torpid, that is, in- sufficiently active. 2—Certain products of diges- tion, such as the albumens and sugars, pass through the substance of the liver before reaching the blood - stream. Therein they are further chemically transformed, | and the sugars are stored up and given off to the tissues as fucl in| THE LIVER—The functions | | the digestion. | THE SPLEEN—The function \of this organ is mot positively | known. THE RED MARROW—This variety of marrow exists only in | certain bones, especially the flat 1 bones, and it is known to manufac- | ture the red blood corpuscles, that | is, the main constituent of the blood. THE MUSCLES—The mus- | cles are our organs of locomotion. | They are attached to the bomes by | both their ends, and are under the | strict control of the nervous system. Upon receiving impulses from the | latter they contract and draw fo | ward their own side of the bomes which they are attached, thereby | producing motion. They also serve to brace the bones in any ottitude which the individual may assume, The muscles develop only under the impulsion and at the same ratio proportion as needed. 3—The liver purifies the blood | by destroying the poisons absorbed | from the bozwels or produced by dis- | ease. When this important organ | is torpid or discased these poisons | reach the brain and spinal cord and | give rise to fever, headache and | backache. 4—The waste products resulting from tissue activity, the combustion | and the general organic processes, | as the motor nerves by which they are controlled. REMARKS—AIl the functions of the body are interdependent; when one goes wrong others go wrong, too. Good health is wholly dependent upon the normal, undis- turbed functions of our organs, and we should bear in mind the fact that all of these functions are at the mercy of our semsations; that they also are broken up by the liver, and | are disturbed, slowed or perverted changed into a suitable form to be|by every ill feeling, either moral or eliminated by the kidneys. | physical, and stimulated by every THE GALL BLADDER—|good feeling. Cheerfulness is the This pouch is the bile reservoir; it |most natural stimulant for our works in harmony with the stom- | functions and the best tonic for our ach; when the latter empties its con- ,‘ | tents into the upper bowwel the gall! bladder also pours its bile therein, as it is required for the digestion. | THE KIDNEYS—The kidneys are the most important channels of | climination of the fluids, impuritics | of the blood and waste products of | the body. When these organs are diseased the fluids accumulate in| the body, and we have the condition | health. Among the depressive sen~ sations we find: The effect pro duced by dramatic plays or novels, ire, anxiety, worry, grief, jealousy, fear, fright, gloomy imagination, disappointments, keen hope, pro- | found or all-absorbing love, and g y physically, pains, aches and the fa- tigue resulting from a too assidu~ ous brain work or eye strain. Anybody may be able to observe known as “dropdyy” while the im- | repeatedly that the degree of appes purities and waste products which | tite is proportionate to the freedom | are not completely eliminated cre-|of the mind from disturbance and & | around and ate the various disturbances u‘hichl Speaking on 2 Who Qannet < leon working to the surface. Then, fust ike l‘rlrl. she falls in & dead faint’ in the middle of the floor. That Is the turn- ing point of the piece. You know, break- ing a looking-glass when you are watch- ing your own face In it is the worst kind of luck. I never heard of anybody living more than seven years after a mishap of that kind. The pext act is the beginning of the bad luck. It is the masquerade in a garden. Don't miss this. It is the gayest time jyou ever saw outside of the Bohemian ance in the artist's studio in “Trilby.” “Leg-long” is there in disguise and she has another girl dress up to look just like her so as to make doubly sure. fn about the middle of the act and just when you don’t expect it you hear Flam caliing from a pile of rocks in the middle of the stage and ‘Leg-long” pulls him out of the cellu\—g\em. uniform_and all—just as he was in the last act. I guess she made him wear the Old Guard clothes all the fatigue, other things being equal. @ ik e g The Effect of French RActing and Well-Meange Parlez-Vous.”” Flambow 1s so overco: breach of trust mzhonmm_ Do) sald that they thought the stabbed him, but I saw him do &t é‘fi.‘:i“u‘i‘ This frightens the officers so much that gz:z. Afi -udam for home and leave “Leg- = care man, She begine to see things cie and §ompences to point It i very dramatic, dying, fl:lxlfi:nho'vl;\elmmtoomnnauyu ye m.:x ‘fl'fc'('o:,. victory!” or some That settles it A windstorm and the terrible ordeal of seeing g: b:h friend die in her arms, together with the hard drinking and the bad luck of the broken mirror, prove too heavy a strain. She plumb crazy right thers before everybody. It is very ng and awfull sad. She sees armies and armies of fight> ing men and all of them shri at her they think about her, for a good many urpleasant -%%ech« commence to float ambow pours a glass of booze Into his gun to put the cartridge on the bad lest he should become so excited that he might attempt to fire into the crowd. One man takes *Leg-long’s” and talks back to another fellow. was in Zenda™ duel right on the stage, for the French are good fencers and it was an excellent opportunity for an exhibition, but they simply exchanged cards and de- cided to settle it when there were no ladies present. “Leg-long” made it a personal matter to thank the man who took her side, but stili_she felt rather down in the mouth at the general sentiment. In act five vou could see that she had gone from bad to worse. I think that in the interim she must have been hitting the Green Terror—you know that fright- ful French drink they call absinthe. The scene was the plain of Wagram. T got tha. from the picture outside the theater. It is nothing but a flock of sand dunes with a shanty on the left, but. “Leg-long” has evidently escaped and rushed out hera thinki it is a -battlefield. Flambow has followed her and when the scene opens is begging her to come home to her people, for it will be all off with him as her par- ticular watchman if he does not get her back before dawn. Some other retainers rush in and do the best they can, but no, she will not leave. Finally a lot of police- hopes that we should have a “Prisoner of | be bob- ck of the stage. One woman of me sald was & shipwreck; that shows how uucll: lon some people have. F' hair stand on end to :‘-‘:".‘fi' these gfi%{; -.n%u- the sights and watch Say-rah 'w her arms around and talk and gibber and snarl and froth, Finally the s blood of old Napoleon got the better of it, and she seemed to put the wild spirits of the night to tlight. Suddenly the calcium threw the red light on her, and you knew that the dnl‘:n hT come :nal; ¢ would soon be er. A corps of sol arrt ney Fome, drp ‘. lers arrived to take ct 6, and the last, proved, however, that the broken mirror and the night on the cold, bleak plain was too much for her naturally weak constitution. The uncle was really the guiity party, for he caused the trouble by his unfortunate re- marks to her before the mirror, and in als, the death scene, I was glad to ses him show some remorse. He stood around as though he had just foreclosed the mortgage on the old farm but yet seemed 2 bit sorry for it. It was a very sad and trying scene, and Say-rah died a_beautiful death. I had to wipe away a few tears when the officer of the guard was e quested by her to read her pedigree out | | loud from a red morocco volume whick she had kept hidden under her pillow.: They finally had to stop him, for sEggh 1i pessed away on angels' wings : elghteen seconds before he finishe the list. : If the show comes your way > haven't the price borrow it. Th 3 Say-rah is fifty-seven and some g¢ \— what do you think of that—and, ay Flambow for not attending to his duty more carefully. I spotted them as officers at once on account of their high hats and bullseye lanterns. A lot of people around me made irrelevant remarks. men come In in official capaeity to arrest | i. life, she doesn't look twenty-two. e s O. K. too, although his naive way of bobbing up serenely to respond to curtain calls after you have fust seen him laid dead on the fleld of Wagram is certainly rather confusing. Your brother.