their lives. As to teaching, it has got to be done by some one; and it should be by strong and healthy young women, instead of those who are delicate, as is too often the case. No teacher ought to continue in a school-room more than three years without at least a year's vacation. It's killing to them; and, besides the injury done to health, it keeps the mind in a rut that isn't easily gotten out of after one has been engaged in that work for years. Yes," Aunt Lois continued, "I'm glad you didn't commence teaching. All things considered, it is a blessing to us that we came here. The place wouldn't have brought rent enough to have paid taxes, and kept it in repair; and meanwhile, it would have continued to run down and been a reproach to the family." We all coincided in these remarks, which for Auntie were quite lengthy. It was a rainy day, and we were busily engaged indoors when this talk occurred. O, yes! we were very happy in our life of comparative independence. Auntie used to laugh at our enthusiasm over the old place, telling us, "We had developed the local attachment of the early Deadwood ancestors, and their energywhich had seemed to die out from the following generations." There was little chance for showing this latter characteristic of the family, where she was at the head of affairs. Every fibre of her being was tense, and full of active energy. She was really in her glory carrying on the farm-work, which, as she said, "Was what she had been reared to do while at home in Vermont." It was evident that she had not been in her natural element in Gossport; though, true to herself, whatever she felt a duty to undertake, she carried on as well as it could be done. and developed more strength as the time passed on, than we had supposed he would ever possess. He must always be lame, that was inevitable; but more and more sources of usefulness and pleasure were opened to him, and his life at the old homestead was a continual satisfaction. How he revelled in the wealth of flowers we cultivated. An old garden seems to be the place of all others, where these floral treasures flourish best! There is, it appears to me, some lingering charm of the past, where generations have cultivated flowers, tending and watering them with affection putting as it were human sympathy and love into their labor, which makes the spot favorable for these beautiful creations of nature. There were some old roots too in our garden, that dated back many years. Released from the tangle of grasses and weeds, and cared for as they should be, "They seemed to show an intelligent appreciation of what had been done for them," Janet said one day, "and were doing their best in blossoming as a reward for our efforts." The peonies especially, made a brave show. There were great bunches of them that made the long bed down the gardenwalk look gorgeous! Tulips, yellow lilies, fleur-de-lis and mats of myrtle with white, yellow and blue blossoms peeping out from their warm leaves; and at the farther end of the garden there were hollyhocks of unmistake able antiquity. 'Roy had a low camp-chair, light and easily handled; and he spent hours in it, attending to his especial part of the flower-beds, and his plants were sure to flourish and bloom freely. He seemed to possess a natural gift for floriculture, apparently understanding by intuition, the needs of each variety, and suiting his care to each. He became so strong that he 'Roy dear, grew plump and rosy, hopped around that first summer more than ever before, and really got over a good deal of ground without much fatigue. Aunt Lois always kept a careful oversight of his movements, never allowing him to run any risks, or to go out of sight of the house, unless some one was with him. He painted a number of very sweet little flower-pannels, one for each of us; and seemed perfectly happy when we mounted them on pretty home made brackets of his designing, in our parlor. They really made the old wainscoting, which was of a dark color, look bright and cheerful. Another thing he did which we all appreciated. He coaxed David to procure him some ferns, mosses, chekerberries, and other woods' treasures, which he arranged in a quaint little oblong dish found in one of the corner cupboards; adding long sprays of myrtle, and such vines as would grow in wet moss. Around the dish he wove an ingenious little basket or wall-pocket, covering it with moss. We knew nothing of this until it was completed; and it was really "a thing of beauty," with the cluster of ferns and scarlet berries, and the long vines trailing down from each side. He had set it on a shelf in the back porch, when we were called to inspect it. "Where will you put it?" we asked, after we had admired its beauty, and praised his skill. "I have fixed it for Sir Fletcher's portrait; he was such a good man, and our ancestor; you know we want to honor him and so I thought I could do something for his portrait." "You darling boy! that is just sweet of you," cried Janet. We were delighted, and tenderly touched by this impromptu tribute to the memory of the founder of our family. Even Lois unbent on the subject of "ancestry," and commended our pet for his thoughtfulness in keeping fresh the memory of a great and good man. But she had to add (to be consistent with herself, and her declared opinions, on this somewhat sore subject): "It is all right to pay proper respect to our forefathers who have served their day and generation faithfully; but not to use their reputation as a ladder for ourselves to try to climb up on it into notoriety or success." She was just as interested and pleased as any of us, when by the aid of chairs and a table, the older girls climbed up, and with hammer and tacks, mounted it above Sir Fletcher, sitting there so calm in his library at the old manor-house in his English home! All was done under 'Roy's directions; and when finished, looked charmingly with the sprays of living green wreathing the sides of the frame, and the plumy ferns nodding from the top! Yes it was a success; and was kept continually green and fresh by occasional applications of water. Thus was the head of Deadwood mansion (whose body nearly a century before was laid under the great stone table with fluted carvings in the ancient burial-ground) honored at the hands of his latest descendants. The portrait was painted by Sir Joshua Reyno'ds, and as a work of this great master was of more value than the old estate in its present condition. When the girls got down from their perch, Auntie said: "I'm not going to have you risk your lives girls, clambering in this way. We must have a step-ladder made. That is a necessity, and economy too, considering the danger ol broken bones." And the ladder was made. The Simpsons were our faithful friends and allies. Even David, who inclined to shirk at home-being somewhat weakened by the indulgence of his grandparents--was al ways ready and willing to do any helpful job for us. Auntie had engaged him from the first to milk the cows; for contrary to the accepted usage, she considered that to be especially men's work. The Simpson family took a personal pride in our success, and I suspect there was a good deal of bragging by Myron and Marthy about "them women-farmers at the old Deadwood mansion. This, especially on the part of Myron, down to the grocery store, which, as in all country places, was the evening rendezvous for the village men who meet to transact a little business, get the mail, and talk over the weather and crops, together with such innocent gossip as the out-lying districts afforded. If we ever came to a difficult place in the outer or inner departments of our work-when even Aunt Lois was puzzled to know how to get over it, which was, it is true, not very often-an application either to Myron or Marthy, always put us on the right track. to Our "Little Man" was very fond of them, and used frequently spend an hour with Marthy of an afternoon; both matron and youth finding these times mutually enjoyable. One pleasant afternoon in midsummer, I accompanied him over to the Simpson cottage, on some necessary errand. He was in high glee, carrying Marthy a very pretty picture, painted expressly for her, and framed quite ingeniously, all of his own design, which he had been working at for some time, to have com. pleted on her birthday. She was delighted with the present, admired the flowers, the frame, and all! It was a bouquet of roses and lilies, with buds and sprays tastefully mingled, to make a lovely effect. It was a happy surprise to her; and while she smiled delight edly as she thanked him warmly in her own impulsive way, the tears were glistening at the same time in her soft brown eyes. We stayed some time, and in the course of conversation she spoke of some beautiful flowers growing down in a corner of the field below their house on the north side, which she called the " eyebright." I knew from her description that it was the scarlet "Cardinal flower;" and determined to get some blossoms for 'Roy dear, and if possible, to dig up some roots for his garden-bed; rightly thinking that they would grow down at the lower end, where the soil was moist. Borrowing a knife of Marthy, I started out after the treasure, when the dear boy insisted on going too. I was afraid it would be too tiresome for the little fellow, but Marthy said "it wasn't only a little ways katy cornering over the lot at the bottom of the barnyard; and there was bars I could let down where we could get through." So we started; I carrying a basket and knife, and helping 'Roy over the rough places. Finding that he didn't seem tired in the least, I didn't urge him to stop outside of the bars on a grassy bank, as I ought to have done, until I brought the flowers now flaunting their spikes of dazzling red, full in view. We filled our hands with them, 'Roy being enchanted with their brilliant color. I succeeded in digging up several roots, and roots, and as Marthy as Marthy suggested, marked where others were growing, in case those I had secured did not live, after being transplanted so late in the season. Unconsciously we had strolled along from the corner, up quite a piece near the fence, finding here some attractive specimen of moss, and the occasional little wild flowers that grew in the sheltered spots. There was a brook not far from where we stood, 'Roy leaning against the fence on his crutches resting. "Don't you think you ought to go to the brook and wet the basket, so the roots and flowers will keep fresh 'till we get home," "Roy asked. "Yes, dear; that's a good thought; you wait here, I will be back in a moment." How vividly that moment is impressed upon my memory. Always having a care for him, I stopped and settled him tolerably comfortably on the end of a rail projecting from the fence, setting his crutches up by his side. an "Wet them real good!" he called out, as I started off; I turned my head towards him, nodded, and skipped down to the bend where the stream curved around some loose stones, making a musical plashing. After dipping the basket into a deeper pool, I had set it on the bank to drip, and being very warm, unfastened my jacket, and threw it on one arm. I had noticed some cattle over at the other side of the field, but thought nothing of danger from any of them. Taking up my basket I started back to where 'Roy was sitting. Before reaching him I heard a bellowing behind me, and saw Alderney bull rushing toward me, from the other end of the field. I was near the fence now, running at the top of my speed. If I can only get 'Roy over before the infuriated beast got there, that was the first instinct; then, for in moments of peril, thought flashes quick as lightning, I was conscious of the red jacket on my arm. In an instant I had turned and thrown it as far as possible in an opposite direction. The creature turned that way, rushing after it, and as it appeared, catching it up in his horns. 'Roy was sitting pale as a statue. What followed was but the work of a moment; and to this day I don't see how I could have done it. Throwing 'Roy's crutches over the fence, I raised him up by main strength to the top rail and pushed him over into the soft grass on the other side. I was nearly at the top. as I pushed 'Roy over, when I heard. an outcry in the distance. As I could realize the horror of my situation (in that intense moment,) when the bull came tearing along by the side of the fence. I had but one more rail to climb, and was clutching frantically at the top when the creature with the remains of my red jacket hanging on his horns was there! I could feel his hot breath. as with a snort he tossed his heat at me, his eyes glaring with rage! I shall never forget that instant while I live! A sharp wrench on my arm a blind sensation as if sailing in the air, then with a crash, darkness came, and all was blotted out! LIFE AMONG THE INSANE. I. Among the unfortunate class of the human family, the insane occupy the first position in the opinion of the world. And it may be well to know, that this terrible evil is largely the outgrowth of our modern civilization, and is but little known in savage and barbarous life. Insanity is said to be very rare among the African tribes, and also among our American Indians. Dr. Livingston asserts that he did not find more than one or two insane persons among all the tribes that he visited in Africa. The reason assigned, for there being less insanity in barbarous life, than in a high state of civilization, is that the savage mind is but little exercised. It is also said to be true, that insanity is rare in China and India, and less frequent in Italy, and Austria, than in countries enjoying more freedom. In France the proportion is said to be one to every 1000 of the inhabitants, in England one to every 780, in Scotland one to every 563, in the United States one to every 750. The earliest sacred and profane writers allude to mental unsoundness, and the Israelites were threatened with madness, if they disobeyed the divine command. Dut. 28: 28. But many of the ancients seem to have looked upon insanity as the result of the transmigration of the feelings and phantasies of evil spirits, into the bodies of men; as in the case of the demoniacs mentioned in the New Testament. But a great change has taken place within the past few years in the minds of scientific men, in relation to the origin of insanity and the way to treat the insane. Less than half a century ago they were visited with punishment more dreadful than was allotted to the vilest criminal. They were confined in loathsome dungeons, bound in fetters of brass and iron and denied the most common necessaries of life. And they were not only confined, but whipped and starved. Dr. Cullen, one of the most eminent of British physicians of the eighteenth century, considered it necessary to inspire mad patients with a feeling of awe, and the dread of those who are to attend them; and that this is to be acquired by stripes and blows, and recent events are in evidence, that this is the kind of discipline still in use in the Cook County Insane Hospital. Miss Harriet Martineau relates in her Miscellanies, Volume I, that the asylum for the insane paupers in Hanwell, England, was formally conducted on the old principle of violence, confinement, chains, whips, and threats, until Dr. Ellis and his wife took charge of it. And though the experiment endangered their lives, still they opened every door of the building and gave the inmates free access to every part of the asylum; and no accident had happened from it in an experiment of twenty years. There, says Miss Martineau, I saw a merry woman, who clapped her hands at the sight of visitors, who had been chained to her bed for seven years before coming here. And another who had worn a strait-jacket for ten years before coming here, both at liberty and both harmless. There were in this asylum in 1834, 566 patients, and among them all there were but ten, whose arms it was thought best gently to confine. At the same time in other institutions for the insane there were heard howlings, shrieks, the rattling of chains, and the groans of human woe. Yet here all was quiet and freedom. And what was more extraordinary, 90 out of every 100 patients, were cured by this treatment and restored to reason. In the latter part of the year 1792, Pinel, the keeper of the mad-house in Paris, obtained permission, after long importunity, to unchain about fifty insane persons confined there, whom he thought might be released without danger. He began the experiment, by releasing twelve, with the only precaution of having provided the same number of strong waistcoats, with long sleeves, which could be tied behind the back if necessary. The first man upon whom the experiment was tried was an English captain, whose history no one knew, as he had been chained for forty years. He was thought to be the most furious patient in the asylum. His keepers approached him with caution, as he had in a fit of fury killed one of them on the spot, with a blow from his manacles. The physician in charge entered the captain's cell alone, and calmly |