The Ladies’ Magazine.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2074, 28 December 1907, Page 2 (Supplement)

The Ladies’ Magazine.

HER RING AND HIS DOG. (By Caroline AVood 'Morrison.) Boss! Oil, Boss Pryor!” The girl who did the call in;.; s'.oad <m the ton of u. stile urn! looked about Jier. Below, toward the brook, l lie grass was a twinkle like her eyis. Ueliiml lier, the russet-plumed corn, in si leer accoutrements, clashed husky cymbals as its serried ranks twayed to the wind's command. This-was .Boss Pryor s fishingground. Here he came every morning during his vacation. Chanipe was sure she would not miss lie 111 loday, iliecnuse she was i little afraid to face li ni. She turned a. great, flashing diamond upon her linger, and it winked a wicked eye at her. 1 * B oss ! Oh, Boss!”

A brindled dog, round of person and affable of expression, trotted nto sight. A tall young fellow in rusty tweeds, thus betrayed by lus rouifooted companion, got to his feet, threw a rod and line into the willow covert, setting the «aMails nodding, and made for deeper timber. Instead of calling again, (nani'Pe, wise in her generation, caught Knuckles bv quo leg as lie passed close and pinched that plump member. Perhaps it was ,t necessary cruelty, whatever the canine thought or his yelps proclaimed. Her judgment was justified. Boss could not resist the combined calls of- hie former sweetheart and his dog. He turned and gave her sulky greeting, slowly retracing liis steps. “Well, what do you want?” he asked, when he finally stood before her. The girl looked up at him through her lashes and played with the. dog. Knuckles, fatuous in his delight at the notice he was receiving, had taken to mumbling and biting her fingers. “I want to bid you farewell forever, of course,” she remarked de-

murely. “Oh, chuck all that! 1 'understand. The Lord knows it -> an old enough story. One girl—two men — one fortune. Two made one —and a left-over! Why can’t you t vkc Bleeeker Van Ness and his millions and let me alone? Why do you craw down here —wearing his ring—anil scare off. my fish?” Mis eye caught the big diamond, as Chanipe intended that it should. Blie turned her hand to make it spar-, •kle.

“I don’t—l didn’t—l’m not!” she exclaimed rather cryptically. There was a moment of, heavy silence. The girl relinquished her fingers to the mumbling of Knuckles, the man standing, hands in pockets, gazing dully down at her. ' After all, she was not having quite as much fun out of teasing Boss as usual. A sudden tremor went through her slender body. She half sprang up, then crouched, and caught the brindled dog in frantic fingers. “Oh, Ross! Help me hold the dog! He musn’t escape till ho’s cut open and I see it taken out. Oh, help mo hold him 1”

“What’s the matter?” asked the young fellow, bending e’o.ser, touching her e-boulder, and finally shaking her. “Ho stop screaming, Chamipe! Let Knuckles go. Isn’t it enough for you to torment the • two-legged brute? Why should you want to squeeze the poor deg’s paw and set him yelping, too?”

“I didn’t,’! gisped Cliampe. “He’s swallowed my ring!”

She held up a bare hand to confirm Her words. Tears brimmed lior eyes, her Ups quivered. Pryor advanced a pace and picked up the little hand to look at it.

“Bleceker Van Nccs’s engagementring—the ring he gave you,” he said under his breath.

“I told him it was entirely too big,” half sobbed the girl. “But Knuckles oughtn’t to have chewed it. He’s a bad dog I We musn't let him out of onr sight one minute till he’s cut 'open 1” Ross drew back and looked at her. “Kill Knuckles? Well, by George, I like that! You women have no more heart than—” “You don’t understand,” cried Charnpe, grasping the edge of his coat and trying distressfully to shake him with one hand. “Listen, Ross; that ring cost as much as five hundred dollars. .Do hurry. Haven’t you ■a knife in your pocket?” “I see,” said Knuckle’s .master, bending to pick up an object from the ground—a. little thing which lie stowed in the pocket of his vest. “Oh, I see. I wouldn’t swallow your engagement! —but lie has .swallowed your dngagementwing. Well, he always was a fool 1”

“Don’t talk —don’t stand there talking!” The girl beat her bands together in feverish protest. “I want that ring! I can’t live if it’s' lost. I never will let go of the dog till you out him open 1” Once more she clutched Knuckles till he yelped. “I can’t trust him to any one else — and just think of having to sit here maybe for hours and hours and hold him this way! Knuckle® —bo quiet! Oh, lie’s slobbering! Watch for my ring, please, Roes! Could lie cliew it up?” 1 Ail at once she burst into such passionate sebs that Ross’s anger was half melted. She put her head down against the offending Knuckles and wept unrestrainedly, shaking that brindled thief with, her wo. “Don’t take it so hard, little girl,” pleaded Bees. “I'll do'anything you tell me to.” “Do it, then—do it before lie dissolves my ring!” “Your dog-gone ring,” muttered the young fellow, as he reached for the repository of that ornament. “What?” the said sharply. “I mean' your ring that will come when the dog is gone.’’ “Dll, you may take -it as a joke if you ivant to, but it’s no joke to me, J assure you, Mr Ross. I’ryor 1 If I could only—only get it out 1” She thrust furtively and foolishly into the animal’s mouth with a tiny jeweled ha inpin. “Champe—l say—look out! He'll swallow that, too, and then I'll have to kill him twice.” “Ross, if you aren’t serious, and don’t do something quick. I’m going ■to carry this dog back to the house a.nd get Bleecker Van Ness to come over'aiiicl kill him.” ■ “Got tha.t chump Van Ness to kill miy deg?” •His face'was red with sudden aliger. Chmmpo broke down completely. ‘“oil, llos*, please!” she begged. “Couldn’t you feel around with your finger and locate a omull bard substance, and cut it out. that way?”

She held the dog’s mouth open invitingly. “You used to say you loved me—and now you’re breaking my I hear, l Oh, Boss, if you care anything about me, get my ring out of your dog!”

He rose with sudden resolution. ••! will, Chanipe—l’ll do it. Come on 1”

She :tumbled after him, carrying Knuckles herself, and he permitted her to do so, believing that the squirming burden would make its own appeal. A fat brindled bulldcg is not

an easy thing to transport, and it was some time before they stopped, ji’iniilly the guide faced about. “Put him on the ground, Chamipe, and hold him hard," came the order. “Perhaps you’d better sit on his head. I'll have to cut his throat.’ She dropped on her knees among the brambles and sweet-fern and grabbed the dog firmly. Knuckles selected this inauspicious 'moment to lick her hand as she held him. She wont white at that, anil trembled, but she held on.

Slowly Boos drew out a knife and whetted it with great care on his boot. Then he got down '-cicde her and .surreptitiously pinched the dog’s tail.

“Oh. you mustn’t hurt him!” screamed Cluimpe, as the dog burst forth into a profusion of the most poignant yelps.

“Slice him up and not hurt .him 1 Isn’t that just like a woman?” “Well, there’s —there’s chloroform or—or something!”

“There isn't any chloroform ill my pockets, and Knuckles Ims got to be killed right now,” he replied resolutely. “You didn’t use chloroform when you broke my heart. Hold him eight! Don’t, let him wriggle that way!” Then, to Knuckles: “Be still, you poor beggar.” “Oh, Boss, I can’t! Oh, Boss, I Ain't'” She Ihing Knuckles into his arms and covered her face with her hands. “I can’t—l can’t! You mustn't hurt him ! 1 only let Bleeckcr Van Ness lend me that ring 'to cease you; and if it’s lost-—I never could raise five hundred 1 dollars I—l’ll 1 —I’ll have to marry Bleeoker, and I want you! What shall we do, Boss? You’ll always remember that- is was you I loved when I’m married to that horrid man, won’t you ? Stop! You mustn’t hurt poor Knuckles! Oh, dear —oil, dear!”

“Little girl,” breathed Roes, loosening the riotous Knuckles and turning his attention to his sweetheart, “I’m so glad I keep a dog!” She looked up at him with drowned, reproachful eyes. She watched the fat brindled- dog inanely chasing a butterfly six feet above its nose. “If this hadn’t happened,” she' began in a low, sweet voice, “I was always going to bo good afterward, anyhow. I never intended to tease you again—and then came this awful trouble. Good-by, Boss.”

She put out a small, shaky hand. Boss took it. drew something from his pocket, and slipped it on tho third finger of that little left. “Oh,” sho shrieked, “my ring! Did Knuckles give-it to you?” “Did Knuckles give it to me!” Boss laughed unrestrainedly, then'kissed her with an air of apology. “No, I picked it up back- there lit tlie stile,” he confessed. “What are you going to do with it, now yon have it safe?”. They both ignored the plain suggestion that Boss had had the ring from file first. “I “hall give it right- straight back io Bleecker.” His .arm was around her. She nestled a- comforted cheek on hie, shoulder. “‘This is the last — it’s the end. I’ll stop teasing—at least, I'll never risk five hundred dollars’ worth again f”

HOW CHILDREN ARE MADE DRUNKARDS. " v . THE DANGER OF DRUGS. (By William Lee Howard, M.D., in the Ladies’ 'Home Journal.) The other day I attended the tunenil of a dear friend and patient. When twenty years of am lie promised L> be one of the literary lights of this country. The pace lio set for himself was not ranid for an individual physiologically balanced, yet-ho could not maintain it without artificial assist nice. So lie was compelled—mark you, I say compelled—to keep propped by stimulants. It is a long story to a short end. The sad termination came at thirty-eight. His mother, sister, aiul closest friends could not account lor this line boy’s merging into the drunken man. I worked hard over that boy ! .Blit 1 had nothing to buikl upon. His nervous structure was sand—quicksand. “But,” said liis mother to mo, “how could Robert become such n slave to drink? Wluit was tho cause ?” Of course, there was a cause; there must be a enuso for every effect. i did not know it, but I determined to find it-. The essential thing to know when treating instability is the family history of tho patient. In this case tho family history was excellent. Ho came of sturdy Scotch stock. No nervous affliction on oitlior side as far buck us could be traced. Grandparents, father, and mother were all temperate -people. The -sister, three years older than tho brother, was a normal woman, tho mother of threo healthy boys, athletes, and strictly temperate in all things. Yet here wo had an extraordinarily brilliant young man whoso career was ruined because lie had to have stimu-1-iuts. Ho abhorred the stuff, niado mi'dity efforts to get along without it, but it was a physiological impossibility. . . After long and minute investigations I discovered the truth the awful, warning truth, which, •when it reached the heart of his mother, brought her to the grave. Hlie had allowed his delicate, baby nerve-cells to be poisoned, distorted, by opium and alcohol —innocently, ignor-antiy, of course. This mother of Robert was very ill immediately after liis birth. Ho was given to a supposedly-rosponsiblo nurse. The best-iiiteutioiied nurse cannot feel the future responsibility to the child. If the child disturbs her rest and annoys her by its cries what is .more natural than that she should o;iye the bate a dose of one or tlio much-advertised “harmless soothing syrups”? Of course, baby sleeps quietly—he is in an opium sleep. Of course, he looks fat and well-nourish-ed—he is drug-bloated. In this case I found that n little gin was frequently put ini i tho baby’s milk. “It is good for the kidneys,” the old nurse said. Then she said that it was the custom to give a little “soothing syrup” to all babies. “It helps to soften up tho gums. It did. And it also helped to soften up the delicate tissues of the brain. When the mother recovered the l)abe was given to her. But he missed liis opium; he yelled and went into spasms; every tiny nerve-cell was crying out for its poison. But there was a “cure” for his agony. A “soothing syrup” was given, to him, and lie “sweetly” slept-, only to be poisoned again when the effect had worn off. and lie cried for more. So wo buried this young man a -man poisoned by drugs when a babe and ostracised as a drunkard when a man because his nerve-cells never grew to manhood’s necessities. How mau3’ mothers, and good mothers, too, aro innocently and ignorantly allowing their sons and daughters* to start on -a drunkard’s career,

commencing at the cradle 'in the same way 1 These mothers forget one thing —that every healthy baby should cry and kick. That is its way of filling the lungs agid developing the muscles. To “soothe” it with anything but pure food, fresh air, and loving arms is to send it out into the world an undeveloped, helpless being. To give a baby any of the so-called “soothing svrups” is worse thin murdei'—a living death. For, mark .you skis well: the principal ingredient in the average “soothing syrup” is some rorni, some derivative, of opium, laW” danuin, or morphine. There may bo one or two exceptions, but don’t even allow these in the house. If it- is called “tincture” remember that the average tincture contains alcohol. No drug known is so poisonous, none so quickly works irreparable damage to the infant, as opium and ■its derivatives. It devours the nervecell substance; it weakens the tissues of tile brain.; it eats out a man’s capacity to think or act except when lie is under its influence; it is the drug that throws on to the world the poor, helpless beings who fill our reform schools, insane .asylums, and drunkards’ graves. ' The sad part of this drugging of infants is that it occurs for the greatest part among those who need all the advantages of pure food.,_ fresh air. -and hygienic attention. The ignorant mothers believe the delusive advertisements, have implicit faith in the unscrupulous druggist, and the baby is opiumed from the day of its birth. It is useless to look for moral and mental defects in the public-school children when the real cause, drugging in the cradle, is overlooked. " Nor is this cruel murder of children confined to one class. Who is most to blame—the woman of wealth who simply gives her child over to a hired nurse and does not take the trouble to givo her baby tho soothing caresses that soon lull it to sleep, or the worn-out mother of the .tenement, who, seeing her fretting child, ignorantly gives it opium—or, in other words, a “soothing syrup” ? I know a man whose mother believed in “soothing syrups.” >Sho would not believe that they were “doped.” So, whenever the child cried, it was given a spoonful of tho “syrup.” Of course, it made him sleep. When his “soothing-syrup” days had passed by she discovered that he was nervous and fretful. Ho was given a" “tonic” to “tone him up”—tho tonic contained opium -again, and alcohol. Of course, it “toned him up.” But soon the system refused to respond to the “tonic.” It was not strong enough, and yet tho moment he stopped tho “tonic” ho became listless and incapable of work. Finally, he had to resort to tho next more- powerful drug—morphine. He became a morphine fiend. He had reached a desirable professorship—one of the most- successful professors in tho college. But soon it was noticed that the brilliancy of liis eye was unnatural, and, to make a long story short, the truth came out. Ho lost liis professorship, he got morose, his mother died from a broken heart, and' the man is to-day in an insane asylum. There you have a direct line from the “soothing syrups” of the cradle to the “morphine” of the m in, and to the asylum. I hare said that babies get- alcohol through nurses’ milk. 1 have directly traced cases of habitual drunkenness to this cause. Quite frcn.uently you will find a nurse who is feeding a child, who takes a glass of beer or ale with her meals -and at night. She tells you that her doctor told her she needed some such tonic to keep- up her strength. Now, it is not probable that a glass of beer at meal times will have any appreciable effect on the milk. Nevertheless, it is tampering with a dangerous possibility. Tho human system can, physiologically. burn up a certain amount of alcohol during twenty-four hours. But just what that quantity is for different individuals is uncertain. Olio nurse may be able to consume several bottles of beer during tne

twenty-foul' hours and uso up in her system every drop of tho alcohol so tlmt none is left in the socrotions. But—and hero is tho important point —she may at any timo exceed this amount. *Slio niay take in moro alcohol than t-liq tissues call burn, and tile residue will bo found in tho secretions. In the nursing woman the milk secretions aro tho most active; lienee, hero tho excess alcohol will ho found, and your little baby gets its first- poisonous drink. And 1 if your baby is getting any of tho by-pro-ducts of beer or whisky it will soon becomo fretful and irritable. “It is then only a short stop to the bottle of “soothing syrup.” Thousands of babies are started oil drunkards' careers in this way. And there is blit one way to avoid it. Never “soothe” a child except by Nature’s own ways. Tho moment a “syrup,” a “liniment,” a “cure of any sort- is advertised as platting a baby to sleep, or soothing it, look out for ‘it. That is the article, of all others, you do not want in your home to give your child. From such concoctions," with. their morphine, opium A or laudanum, do -we make drunkards of our children 1