Upset the Dinner Table.

New York, 1895

James Hall, of Flushing, invited Michael Edwards, a neighbor, to his house Sunday morning to play cards. Several pints of ale were disposed of. Edwards accused Hall of cheating. Hall put Edwards out and then sat down to read. In a few minutes Edwards returned and commenced throwing stones through Hall's windows. Hall escaped, and Edwards entered the house, found the table set for dinner, took hold of the end of the cloth and pulled all the dishes and dinner off on the floor.

—The Long Island Farmer, Jamaica, NY, July 5, 1895, p. 1.

MAY BE A MURDER.

New York, 1895

Poles and Germans Fight and Two Get Stabbed.

A stabbing affray occurred at Flushing at an early hour Monday morning in which one man was seriously injured and another wounded so badly that his life is despaired of. One of them is lying in the Flushing hospital, and he may die. A number of Poles, who are employed on various farms at Blackstump, on the Jamaica road, Monday decided to have a picnic among themselves. They bought a keg of beer and repaired to the residence of Joseph Czeeski, where they drained its contents and became hilariously drunk.

At about 11 o'clock Monday night two Germans and a Pole intruded and tried to break up the festivities. When ordered off the premises they refused to go and a fight ensued. Joseph Buschofski, one of the picnicers, was stabbed in the left shoulder and it is believed that the knife penetrated the man's lungs. Another Pole named Tommasso Stofflaski was cut in the back.

Coroner Corey took the wounded man's ante mortem statement. Captain Allen and Constable Slavin arrested five Poles on the suspicion of being implicated in the affair. They were taken to the hospital to be identified by the injured man and he named Felix Bushnoski as the man who stabbed him.

—The Long Island Farmer, Jamaica, NY, July 5, 1895, p. 1.

Drank His Pepsin Straight

1895

His Mild Hypocrisy Brought Trouble to a Pillar of the Church.

There is now living in one of the hotels of Indianapolis a rather prominent business man who, although a pillar in the church he attends and a fervent disciple of temperance when he is called upon to address a meeting, yet rather admires the shade of liquor when it is red. Now, this same man got the idea somewhere that he really needed a good, stiff bracer of whisky before each meal, and after pondering over several schemes in the hope of arriving at something which would keep the snap concealed he fixed it with the clerk that he was to have sent to the room at a certain hour each day a silver pot in which was concealed a glass of "pepsin," as it was christened for the occasion. And this went into effect. Before each meal the bellboy would be sent up by the clerk with a pot of "pepsin."

One day the head clerk was very busy, and, as he saw it was the time for sending up the liquor, he turned to another clerk and told him to send up Mr. ——'s pepsin right away. And it so happened that the new clerk wasn't on to the scheme, and so he called a bellboy, sent him into the drug store and told him to have prepared a stiff dose of the real pepsin and take it up to the room designated. The bellboy afterward told what he saw. The gentleman met him at the door with a benign smile and lordly air of condescension.

"Ah, my boy," said he as he wiped his mouth with his tongue, "you have brought my pepsin, I see. You are a good boy. I'll just drink it right here while my wife is getting ready for dinner."

He turned the glass into the air, opened his throat and threw back his face. Just here the bellboy isn't clear as to what happened. He at first said that the man gave a gasp of horror and shouted that he was poisoned by enemies who were jealous of his social successes, and then the boy remembers that somebody's foot came in contact with his trousers and he began going down stairs at a most terrible rate.

It seems clear that the business man did make his appearance in the office a few minutes later and asked what kind of pepsin that was he had been given. The new clerk replied that it had been bought at the drug store. But just then the head clerk came up, and the whole thing was explained. Real pepsin was too much for the old man's digestion. — Indianapolis Sentinel.

Star Chamber Inquiry

New York, 1895

The Legal Persecution of Emanuel Miller Gets Under Way.

Of all the unlicensed liquor dealers in Jamaica, but one, it seems, is to be prosecuted by the excise commissioners, Emanuel Miller of Ozone Park, against whom Excise Commissioner Bauman has a grudge. The commissioners have cast a stigma upon the justices of the peace in Jamaica by declaring that they could not get justice here. They induced Justice Seaman, of Hempstead, to take a complaint against a fictitious person, and they are now hunting for evidence behind closed doors against Miller. Just how Justice Seaman is going to get paid for his services is a question. The town of Jamaica can refuse to pay him.

The star chamber inquiry was held on Wednesday in Counselor McLaughlin's office. THE FARMER learned something of the nature of the testimony from the several witnesses. Louis Vacheron, a brother of the Assemblyman, said he had never seen liquor sold in Miller's saloon.

Testimony was given that Miller's place was open on election day, and that he kept an unlicensed place at Woodhaven before he moved to Ozone Park.

Constable Swift never drank anything stronger than ginger ale in Miller's. Other witnesses testified that they drank tea that was poured out of a black pot.

No warrant has been issued.

—The Long Island Farmer, Jamaica, NY, Feb. 8, 1895, p. 12.

The Congressional Reputation

1895

"I don't know exactly what the congressional reputation for temperance is away from Washington," remarked the story telling member, "but I'm afraid it is bad in some sections."

"Why?" very naturally inquired a listener.

"For instance," continued the member, "when I was paying a kind of fence repairing visit to one of the remote counties in my district I stopped for dinner at a country tavern kept by an old fellow I had never met. There was a bar attached, and thither my companion and I adjourned shortly after our arrival. We hadn't seen the old man yet, and a boy was behind the counter. We explained our wants to him, and he had just set out a bottle and a couple of the ordinary small sized whisky glasses when the old man came in. My companion knew him and at once introduced me as the member of congress from that district. We shook hands cordially, and I asked him to join us.

"'Not at all,' he responded, with a bow. 'You are to drink with me,' and turning toward the counter he noticed the little glasses.

" 'Here, Bill,' he exclaimed, shoving them to one side, 'take these thimbles away and bring out them goblets. Didn't you hear the gentleman say this was a member of congress?' " — Detroit Free Press.

Horsewhipped Her Husband

New York, 1895

Mrs. Margaret Walters, of Uniondale, near Rockville Centre, horsewhipped her husband on Monday for getting drunk. She ordered a saloon keeper named Duryea not to sell liquor to her husband. She went to the saloon and saw her husband, half drunk, climbing out of a window to avoid her. She caught him and thrashed him. Duryea subsequently assaulted Mrs. Walters, she says, and beat her shamefully.

—The Long Island Farmer, Jamaica, N.Y., Jan. 18, 1895, unknown page number.

Enforcement in Bangor

Maine, 1916

Bangor, Sept. 6. — Following what is said to have been a stormy discussion with Mayor John F. Woodman, Chief of Police, Lindley W. Gilman tendered his resignation to the Mayor late this afternoon. Tonight the Mayor said that he had not accepted the resignation and probably would not and that matters would no doubt reach an amicable settlement.

Chief Gilman declined to discuss the matter more than to admit that his resignation was brought about by a difference of opinion as to how the liquor law should be enforced in Bangor at this time. The chief of police is appointed by the Mayor, who also has the power of removal.

When the electric carmen went on strike about 10 days ago, Chief Gilman ordered the saloons and bars, said to number 114, holding United States revenue licenses, to close and stay closed. Several who did not obey were promptly raided and fined.

On Tuesday morning there was a general reopening of the bars. Some of the liquor dealers said there was an understanding with the Mayor that they could resume business after Labor Day. Chief Gilman said that he could not be expected to maintain order during a car strike with all the bars open and ordered them to close again.

It is understood that today the Mayor took up the matter again favoring the reopening of the saloons and Chief Gilman passed in his resignation. The saloons are still closed.

—The Fryeburg Post, Fryeburg, Maine, Sept. 12, 1916, p. 6.

Why John Quit Drinking (1916 Advertisement)

1916

By John's Wife

I'm the happiest little woman,
In all this little town;
And my merry laugh and singing,
Takes the place of sigh and frown.
For JOHN HAS QUIT HIS DRINKING
And is like himself once more,
And the world is just a paradise
With such happiness in store!

One day I read some verses—
"Mary's Miracle," the name,
And I said, that's John exactly,
And I'll send and get the same.
So I sent for GOLDEN TREATMENT.
(As sly as sly could be)
And I put it in John's supper
And I put it in his tea.

And it didn't taste a little bit;
Had no odor, so, you see—
It was smoothest kind of sailing
For little Doctor Me.
And I watched and prayed and waited,
(And cried some, too, I guess),
And I didn't have the greatest faith,
I'm ashamed now to confess.

And John never thought a minute,
He was being cured of drink,
And soon he's as well as any one,
It makes me cry to think!
Just makes me cry for gladness,
I'm so proud to be his wife—
Since he is cured of drinking,
And leads a nice, new life.

"Since John he quit a-drinking!"
I can't any it times enough!
And hates and loathes a liquor
As he would a poison stuff.
And when I say my prayers at night
As thankful as can be—
I pray for John the most of all—
Then GOLDEN TREATMENT.

Home Treatment For Drunkards

Odorless and Tasteless — Any Lady Can
Give It Secretly at Home in Tea, Coffee or Food.

Costs Nothing to Try.

If you have a husband, son, brother, father or friend who is a victim of liquor, all you have to do is to send your name and address on the coupon below. You may be thankful as long as you live that you did it.

Dr. J. W. Haines Company.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Sept. 16, 1916, p. 7.

Temperance Notes

1900

The first temperance journal to be published in Russia is the Viestnix Tresvosti (messenger of temperance). Its first issue appeared Sept. 1, 1899.

The Kansas Senate has passed a bill to make more efficient the enforcement of the prohibitory law. According to its provisions, the third violation of the law subjects the liquor seller to a term of from one to three years in the penitentiary.

Twenty-six thousand arrests for drunkenness a year and eight thousand imprisonments is the appalling record of one of the most enlightened of American cities. It means one arrest to every four families. The net cost to the city was therefore more than $100,000.

The Herald and Presbyter says: "The best authorities tell us that for every dollar of revenue the saloons bring in, they occasion a cost, direct or indirect, of $21. Blot out the saloons with the costs they compel, and the raising of the incurred deficit in the revenue would be as easy as laying aside one dollar out of twenty-one that you put in your pocket."

The terrible ravages of the opium trade in China is indicated by the number of suicides. In Yunnan province there are on an average a 1,000 attempted opium suicides per month. The average for the whole of China is not less than 600,000 per year. Dr. William Park says here are over 800,000, and that the number of deaths from opium poisoning is not less than 200,000 a year.

Rev. J. Q. A. Henry, superintendent of the Anti-Saloon League in New York, said recently concerning the church and the saloon: "One or the other is right; one or the other is wrong. One must triumph. If the saloon stays, the church must go. The solution of the problem is in the church. The charge cannot be turned over to any other body. The saloon is hostile to Christianity, to citizenship and to true Americanism."

A law which will go into effect in Germany in 1900, places every confirmed drunkard under the espionage of a "curator." This person will he empowered to put the individual whom he regards as a dipsomaniac anywhere he pleases, there to undergo treatment for the malady as long as the "curator" wishes. The law defines an habitual drunkard as one who, in consequence of inebriety, cannot provide for his affairs or endangers the safety of others.

Iowa first tried license laws, then prohibition, and now tries, in its larger cities, what is known as a mulct law. Under the license law, the number of penitentiary convicts was 800; under prohibition, 532; under the mulct law, 1,171. By a recent decision of the Supreme Court, brought about by the Anti-Saloon League, two-thirds of the saloons were temporarily closed, because they had not filed the consent petitions required by the new code of 1897.

The establishment of an asylum, or hospital, for drunkards by the state is being urged in South Carolina, the home of the state dispensary scheme. One set proposes to establish the asylum, or institute, as an annex to the State Insane Asylum, conducting it under the same management. Others urge that the Legislature pass a law making drunkenness a crime, and establish a reformatory for drunkards, where they can be given hard work in a cotton mill, machine shops and on a farm.

From the official report of the superintendent of the Washington police it is shown that while the whole number of arrests in the District, with a barroom for each 441 of its population, was equal to one arrest for every eleven of its population, the number of arrests made in the First precinct, with a barroom for every 113 of its population, was equal to one for every three of its population, and in the Ninth precinct, with a barroom for every 1048 of its population, the number of arrests was only one for every eighteen of its population. A petition to Congress to prohibit the liquor traffic in the District of Columbia is being prepared.

—The Ram's Horn, March 17, 1900, p. 15.

Like Jesse James, All But The Horse

1920

Tippler Hurls a Parting Shot at the Booze Bandit.

One of those present at the funeral of John Barleycorn was a negro who entered a saloon in St. Louis, Mo., and called for a drink of whisky. He laid down a dollar bill. The bartender rang up 50 cents and handed back the change. After glancing at the change and then at the register, the negro called for "another drink of the same."

He drank it and pushed over the half dollar. The bartender rang up the 50 cents, smiled and stood at attention.

"Are you the boss?" inquired the negro.

"Sure."

"Have you got a horse?"

"No, why?"

"Well, Jesse James had a horse," said the negro, turning on his heel and departing.



Found It So

Molly — "Our doctor told me today that hammocks are not good for one."
Cholly — "He's right, dear; they're not good for one, but they're all right for two."

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1920, p. 13.

Too Extravagant By Half

1901

The manner in which one defaulting cashier was detected was rather peculiar. It was all due to the curiosity of the women of his neighborhood. He went to no expense in the way of dressing, they never heard of his gambling or drinking to any extent, he was a model husband, but he loved a good table. There was nothing unusual in this, but one day when the ladies of the vicinity were discussing the best method of cooking meats the wife of the cashier declared very innocently that her husband doted on ham, but he would not eat it unless it had been boiled in champagne. "Boiled in champagne!" exclaimed the listeners. "Heavens, how expensive! We couldn't afford to have ham on our table often if we cooked it that way."

It was soon noised all around the neighborhood that Cashier Blank was a high liver indeed, and the men began telling of his uplifted ideas of cookery. This soon reached the ears of the directors of the bank, and they concluded it might be wise to investigate the accounts of such an epicure. Plain water was all they could afford for their hams, so the champagne lover was called up and subsequently relegated to the pen, where he had to forgo his pet dish for many, many weary days. — Louisville Times.


Human Nature

It is human nature to deride what we cannot possess, to deny what we cannot understand and to insult those we envy. — Chicago News.

Bay Rum Has Them Barking Like Dogs

1920

Many Weird Ways to Evade Liquor Law Reported

Embalming Fluid and Rain Water Are Sold for Whisky at Immense Profit

Clamping of the prohibitive lid on the saloons and purveyors in various brands of intoxicating liquors has brought forth some strange and amusing schemes — amusing to all but the victims — by which professional and amateur "con" men have been enabled to bamboozle hundreds Of easy marks into purchasing even dirty rainwater at six or more dollars a quart. For instance. three clever "slickers" are under arrest in Chicago for selling John Lamorec two barrels of rainwater for $1,500. He was a victim of the ingenious "funnel game" which relies for its success on the fact that what comes out of the bung may not be a true sample of the entire contents.

Buffalo, N. Y., reports that three women and two men are in a hospital there, the result of a murderous swindle. A bootlegger sold them embalming fluid for whisky. It was diluted with vanilla extract. One of the women was unconscious for thirty-six hours and is in a serious condition.

Made Them Bark Like Dogs

Adam Rufnagle and George Crowley, two Cincinnati pals, couldn't get anything else, so they drank bay rum; they made such a row in their room that the police were called in. They were found crawling about the floor and barking like dogs.

Theft of nine barrels of sacramental wine was reported to the New York police by a wholesale liquor dealer. The theft was accomplished, he said, by siphoning the wine from his basement to an adjoining cellar by means of a seventy-five-foot pipe. The owner had a special permit from the Government to keep the wine in bond to be sold for religious purposes only.

Recently there has been a rush in Army stores in Baltimore for vanilla and lemon extracts, fair sized bottles being sold for 15 cents. Investigation turned attention to the extracts and the sale has been stopped.

"Deadly Bomb" Contains Booze

What was declared to be a "deadly bomb," brought to Los Angeles by a special agent of the Tucson division of the Southern Pacific, who suspected an attempt to wreck the Golden State Limited as he picked up the thing near Yuma, when pierced by a bullet fired at a safe distance gave forth the aroma of whisky, thus exposing the wiles of Arizona bootleggers.

Nathan Barrow of Uniontown, Pa., was charged by Harry Green with the theft of five hams. Barrow declared had been listening to a phonograph playing "I've Got the Alcoholic Blues" and, being in sympathy with the song, he fell. Asked to sing it, Barrow did, and the jury freed him.

Cured by Horse Liniment

Wesley Duke of Watertown, N. Y., found a chest of medicines left in his uncle's barn by a traveling veterinary, and, discovering that one of the larger bottles was suggestive of an alcohol [*bottle, drank the] contents. The stuff was a patented horse liniment, and Wesley was barely snatched from death's door. "It, was an awful nightmare," he says, describing his sensations when delirious, during which he imagined he was a two-minute trotter pitted against a fast thorobred runner.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1900, p. 2.

*Note: That in brackets is missing in the original article and is suggested by the context.

Green Giraffes, 4-Tailed Elephants, Haunt the Victim of Wood Alcohol

1920

BY DR. BEN L. REITMAN

Wood alcohol is one of the most dangerous poisons known to science. Because it is one of the best known poisons in the world, people are losing their fear of it.

Thousands of persons in the United States probably have drunk it in the last three months. But the main reason that we are having so many cases of wood alcohol poisoning lately is that prohibition has only become a reality in the last thirty days. Previous to that time it was possible to buy a drink almost anywhere for 25, 35 or 50 cents. Today it costs 75 cents or a dollar, a prohibitive price for the poorer workers. They have sought a substitute.

Fatal Dose Is Eight Ounces

They have tried what we call "wood alcohol." The fatal dose of pure wood alcohol is eight ounces. The denatured alcohol which they are purchasing in drug stores, etc., that is, the great part of it, is grain alcohol diluted with 10 per cent of wood alcohol. Thus a man would have to drink a fairly large quantity of this denatured alcohol to obtain a fatal result.

The bum, the hobo, the man who just must have a drink, gets a bottle of denatured alcohol and goes into a saloon. He orders a glass of near beer. When he gets it he pours in an ounce of the alcohol — and gets a kick.

A few doses of this and he begins to get drunk. Then he gradually increases the dose. of alcohol until he is drinking it virtually straight.

Sees Four-tailed Elephants

A man doesn't necessarily have to drink a fatal dose to suffer ill effects. He suffers from strange hallucinations after but a short bout. But the major part of the cases we have heard about recently have been those where drinking the poison has been persisted in for two or three days.

There is a peculiar psychology in the effects of the poison. The victim sees four-tailed elephants and green giraffes and all the other different animals so long associated with delirium tremens. And then there is a peculiar half-blindness. The victim looks at you, but he can see only half of you — the other half, say the upper half, simply dissolves into space.

Regulations for sale? It would be a hard matter. Wood and denatured alcohol now is a commercial commodity widely used in industries the nation over. The people are able to buy it in department stores, in drug stores, in paint stores, and stories have been told of chauffeurs getting it out of the radiators of their automobiles.

A man might be able to drink a small dose of wood alcohol daily for some considerable time — but he shouldn't forget that it will get him in the end — and its after effects don't wear off easily and sometimes are incurable.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1920, p. 1.


Lightning Plays Queer Prank

1920

MARIETTA, Pa., Jan. 1. — During a heavy electrical storm a bolt of lightning struck the residence of Charles Spanger and knocked out a beam in the middle of his garret without tearing a hole in the roof. The outside was considerably damaged. Fire ensued, but the downpour of rain extinguished it.

Women

Nebraska, 1901

They Drink Not Wisely But Too Well and Are Haled Into Police Court

This morning the police judge was busy trying a bevy of prostitutes taken up in a raid on the lowlands the middle of last December. The trouble all came from a little drunk indulged in by Bell Naden. The 17th of last month she went on a tear and at the same time went calling on her neighbors, which is against the rules. She was in a boisterous condition and the police were notified. They went to Dora Brown's house and found a great rough house. Everybody in the place was about as drunk as they could be, and, from the sounds that penetrated through the walls of the house, were having the biggest kind of a time.

Incidentally they arrested Mattie Head, Bell Naden, Mary Glasco, Hattie Thurbie, Geneva Newberry and Ruth Collins. This morning they appeared in police court for the last time on the charge and received their due.

Mattie Head will wait a few days before paying her fine. Bell Naden drew ten days in the county jail, Mary Glasco was discharged because she was sick, and, Hattie Therbie pleaded guilty and will be sentenced later. Geneva Newberry paid $5 and costs. Ruth Collins did the same.

Dora Brown was also present and raised a great disturbance. Her attorney took occasion to roast the police and did it to a finish. He said that his client was a special mark for the few men who control the destiny of the lowlands. Across the street from Dora Brown's house was another brothel which was much worse but had not been raided. He wanted to know about it.

Miss Dora Brown drew $10 and costs, notwithstanding. This she paid in part, after expressing her opinions to the court. She complained that she was the special mark for police prosecution, that they were running her business and spent their time eavesdropping at her windows. She was a poor innocent prostitute, no worse than the others, but suffered for their crimes.

—Lincoln Evening News, Lincoln, NE, Jan. 7, 1901, p. 6.

Making Ice Water From the Sunshine

1910

EL PASO, Tex. — Manufacturing a drink of ice water with nothing cooler than the sun's rays and dry tropical air would probably seem under the province of the magician to the easterner. It is nevertheless a fact that from these ever-available agencies the greater part of the population of Texas, Arizona and New Mexico manufacture their own ice water. This not only serves for drinking purposes, but also provides an efficient medium for the ordinary requirements of refrigeration — for in the cruder sections of the great southwest the artificial production of ice is still a trifle too costly to be feasible.

The secret lies wholly in the construction of the little red receptacle in which the water is placed. This is a simple Mexican creation, and in that language is called an olla, the two l's being silent according to the Spanish pronunciation of the word. In northern Mexico olla making is a very profitable industry to the inhabitants, who carry them over into Arizona on the backs of burros.

The olla is made from a crude clayish mortar. In drying the composition becomes very porous, and it is this essential characteristic which contains the secret of the cooling process.

It is filled with water and hung up, preferably in some place which is exposed to the wind if there be any. The moisture seeps through the porous composition. The process is very slow, and the moisture which exudes evaporates into the receptive, dry atmosphere in such equable proportion that scarcely more than a drop a minute trickles away from the bottom of the olla.

It is this continuous and fairly rapid evaporation which produces the cold. Immediately the sides of the olla become chilled, and the water within grows gradually cooler. In less than an hour from the time the phenomena is begun the water is cold enough for drinking purposes, no matter how warm it might have been when poured into the receptacle. Two or three hours later it is cold enough to fill the ordinary requirements of refrigeration for bottled milk, butter and other culinary necessities.

Rum Omelette for Him

1905

This is the true story of how a Mississippi editor kept his New Year's resolution not to drink vinous, malt, distilled or other variety of intoxicating beverages. On or about Jan. 3 he came to town with a small hand satchel and the good resolution not to drink aforesaid.

In a short time he found himself at a table in a restaurant with a party of congenial spirits. The congenial spirits were partaking of spirits equally congenial. Only the Mississippi editor was adhering to a glass of cold, repellant, unsympathetic ice water.

"Have something to drink," suggested one of the party.

"No; I've sworn off; don't intend to drink any more," was the virtuous reply.

"Too bad! Too bad!" was the sympathetic rejoinder.

The conversation became more lively, spirits grew high. The Mississippi editor keenly felt his aloofness. He began to understand how the mummy at the ancient Egyptian feasts used to feel.

"Have something more, old man!" suggested one of the party to him as the glasses were being replenished, forgetting he had declined before.

To the despairing and thirsty soul of the molder of public opinion came a flash of positive inspiration.

"By heaven!" he exclaimed excitedly, under the influence of a great idea.

"I swore I would not drink it any more, but I never said a word about eating it. Waiter, bring me a rum omelette and see you pour plenty of rum over it!"

At the sixth rum omelette, which the Mississippi editor ate with a spoon to lose none of the sauce, he grew visibly elate.

Which shows that love will find a way. — New Orleans Times-Democrat.

Blue Glass at Spring Startles Ohio Doctor

1915

Fears Vanish When Radium is Found in Water

Benjamin Marshall of Paw Paw, Mich., is spending his leisure time in reading automobile catalogs and pricing Persian rugs.

The reason he engages in this pastime is because radium has been discovered in his back yard, according to a doctor from Ohio, who claims to know something about the stuff that sells for thousands of dollars per amount as big as a pinhead.

Two years ago Marshall and his mother came here and purchased a fruit farm on the outskirts of this village. On the property is a spring of sparkling clear water. Prior to their coming here, Mrs. Marshall was a chronic dyspeptic, subsisting only on the simplest of diets.

Helps Mother's Appetite

They had been here only a short time when Marshall noticed his mother's appetite had increased astonishingly and that she could eat anything with keen relish.

A glass was always left at the spring and always turned a light blue after slight use. One day when the Ohio doctor was visiting the Marshalls he noticed the blue glass and said:

"Marshall, you don't drink this water, do you?"

"Yes, we're really intemperate with it."

"And doesn't it make you sick?"

"I don't look seriously ill, do I?" asked Marshall, with a chuckle, as he exhibited his tongue.

Does a Little Probing

Then the doctor did some investigating and declared that the water contained radium.

"I thought it was cobalt at first," he said, "but if it were cobalt it would make you sick."

The doctor took several samples of the water back with him to test, and Marshall took to reading auto catalogs and pricing Persian rugs.

Why They're Called Tumblers

1896

Every day we drink out of a tumbler. Why is the large glass that holds our milk and water so called? Years ago Professor Max Muller was giving a luncheon at All Souls' College, Oxford, to the Princess Alice, the wife of the Grand Duke of Hesse-Darmstadt and the second daughter of Queen Victoria. There were not a dozen guests besides the Princess and her husband, and a very agreeable luncheon we had, with talk on all kinds of interesting subjects.

But what excited the curiosity of all strangers present was a set of little round bowls of silver, about the size of a large orange. They were brought round filled to the brim. Those, we are told, were tumblers, and we were speedily shown how they came by their names — a fitting lesson for the guests of a philologist. When one of these little bowls was empty it was placed upon the table mouth downward. Instantly, so perfect was its balance, it flew back to its proper position as if asking to be filled again. No matter how it was treated — trundled along the floors, balanced carefully on its side, dropped suddenly upon the soft, thick carpet, up it rolled again and settled itself with a few gentle shakings and swayings into its place, like one of those India rubber tumbling dolls babies delight in.

This, then, was the origin of our word tumbler, at first made of silver, as are all these All Souls' tumblers. Then, when glass became common, the round glasses that stood on a flat base superseded the exquisitely balanced silver spheres and stole their names so successfully that you have to go to All Souls' to see the real thing. — Jeweler's Circular.

Early Calculator — Lifesaver for Schoolboys?

1900

In one of the statistical divisions of the Department of Agriculture in Washington may be seen a machine resembling a typewriter, which multiplies and divides with unerring accuracy and with great rapidity.

Give its operator a multiplicand of six figures and a multiplier as large, and he will write them out as upon a typewriter; then he turns a handle a few times, and before the onlooker knows what is going on, the product is written out before him. The machine performs examples in division with equal ease.

Does any one of our young readers fancy that he sees in this invention an emancipation of boys of the twentieth century from the vexation of the multiplication table? Alas! that is too much for him to hope. Nobody seems to have devised a machine for adding common fractions of different denominators, although many a young schoolboy has concluded that this is one of the "long-felt wants" of the day.


Intemperance in France

Those who assert that wine-growing countries are largely exempt from the evils of intemperance need not point to France in proof of their assertion. The habitual use of wine often creates the craving which seeks for such stronger stimulants as absinthe or vermouth.

Of about three thousand prisoners in the department of the Seine, in which Paris is situated, it is officially stated, more than two thousand were drunkards. The number of suicides induced by habits of intemperance is said to have more than doubled in recent years. Alcoholism is also largely responsible for the fact that thirty-four per cent of the young men conscripted for the army are sent back as unfit; and in the cities of Normandy, where hard cider is the common beverage, the proportion rejected is much larger. It rises in Caen to fifty per cent; and in Havre three-fourths of the conscripts are rejected.


Vested Interest in Getting It Right

Senator Vest recently sent a newspaper item to be read to the House. The secretary had the wrong side of the clipping, and instead of an editorial on the money question, began: "Ridiculous! We are giving away these goods at half price!" "The other side!" cried Mr. Vest.

That the much vaunted common sense of the American people has another side is forcibly illustrated by recent sales of a good-luck box. This precious humbug is a little wooden case, containing a worthless three-starred ring, worth in all about five cents. But within the past three months many thousands of persons have paid ninety-nine cents apiece for it, expecting it to bring good luck. In this and similar instances the notice might appropriately made: "Ridiculous! We are giving ourselves away for nothing!"

—Youth's Companion.

Puzzle Jugs

1896

Water or puzzle jugs were made in England as early as the seventeenth century, and at the beginning of the present century were still being produced. They are now seen only in museums or private collections.

These tantalizing vessels, though not always equally complex, have generally some features in common. In spite of their many spouts, a perforated neck usually prevented the abstraction of their contents in the ordinary way. But a secret passage for the liquor up the hollow handle and through one spout or nozzle afforded the means of sucking the contents. Of course all other spouts and a small concealed hole under the top of the handle had to be closed by the fingers judiciously employed during the imbibing process.

The inscriptions found on some of these puzzle jugs usually relate to the difficulty of getting at their contents; the following is an example, written in "scratch blue," on a salt-glazed jug: "From Mother Earth I claim my birth, I'm made a joke for man; But now I'm here, filled with good cheer, Come, taste me if you can."


Snow Experiment

Some experiments at Leavenworth, Kan., show that packed snow offers an excellent resistance to bullets.