“Unaccountable,” said a physician, according to the Philadelphia Record, “are the antipathies of some people. Do you know that I have had for patients a dozen men who would faint on being shut up in a room with any sort of large bird?

“There is a certain odd nervous disease which creates an aversion to eggs—so strong an aversion that an egg placed on the skin of one of the afflicted persons brings on convulsions.

“On some highly-organized constitutions nose-bleed is produced in the strangest way. The medical books tell of Chesne, secretary to Francis I., who bled at the nose on sight of an apples, and of Diego Rodriguez, a Cuban recently deceased, who would bleed at the nose whenever he smelt the flower of the heliotrope.

“The sight of raw fish gives some people a fever. The proximity of a cat gives some a headache. The sight of blood—but this is common—makes some swoon. The touch of velvet gives some a violent chill.

“These cases I have cited are well authenticated. They are interesting. We doctors are always very glad to come upon them.”

A Chicago man has given $40,000 to a Milwaukee girl because she was kind to him when they met as strangers on a railway train three years ago. After this, says the Chicago Record-Herald, it ought to be reasonably easy for a man to strike up an acquaintance with the lady who is traveling alone.

Somebody has discovered that the decadence in modern manners does not necessarily denote our increased brutality or absolute indifference to the feelings and needs of other people. It is balm ot the soul to be assured of this fact.

We have admitted to ourselves for some time past that our manners have not the repose which should mark the caste of Vere de Vere, and that we are indeed frankly discourteous to each other. We also know that many men are no longer particular how they act or what they say in the presence of women, and do not even observe the small courtesies of life where members of the opposite sex are concerned. Men no longer hesitate to let a woman wait on them, or to push her aside in a crowd, or to smoke in her face unapologetically, as if that were their natural right. We certainly are less polished and ceremonious that were our forebears.

Facing this fact, it is pleasing to be assured that the change is not due to selfishness, but is simply the expression of our desire to be honest, to avoid shams. Therefore, if we sometimes overstep the limit and cultivate unpleasant freedom of speech and action, manifest unrestrained rudeness, we are to be excused on the round of our excessive frankness and honesty.

He was wandering in Ireland and came upon a couple of men “in holts” rolling on the road. The man on top was pommeling the other to within an inch of his life. The traveler intervened.

“It’s an infernal shame to strike a man when he’s down,” said he.

“If you knew all the trouble I had to get him down,” was the reply, “you wouldn’t be talking like that.”—Philadelphia Inquirer

There’s no mistake about it. To be young, to be in the first flush of youth, is no longer fashionable, says the New York Sun.

The fashionable age now for a woman is between 30 and 40. Have not their majesties, the king and queen of England, given notice that the young person is not to monopolize social attention?

The doctrine of middle age is being preached in London, and from the innermost centers of Mayfair exclusives to the outer circles of Bohemianism the women who are the most popular are those who have lived. The same is true of New York.

It is hard to get at the reason for this inversion of fancy. Somebody says it is because the girls of the present day are older and more world-worn than the women who have passed the first stage of real youth. Whatever the reason, the chief interest seems to center about women who have left the white muslin stage and crept out to the once dreaded verge of maturity.

The women of whom most is heard, whether in New York or in London, have certainly no longer any right to be considered young. They are frankly middle-aged, and they seem to glory in it.

So people seem to have discovered that he period succeeding youth is more desirable than adolescence. The strange thing is that it has not been discovered before, with all the examples that exist in history. The women of France and England who were noted for their power and attractions reached the zenith of their glory after youth had flown.

Those who have lived and seen the world must always have a greater power for swaying humanity than those who are equipped only with the charm of youth. No one is disposed to underestimate this charm, for it comes to all once, and partakes not only of the sweetness of the flower, but also of the evanescence.

Some one has said that “every face ought ot be beautiful at 40,” and another that “no old person has a right ot be ugly, because she has had all her life in which to grow beautiful.” The transfiguration of a pleasant smile, kindly lightings of the eyes, restful lines of self-control about the lips, serenity of the face—these things no fitful year or two of goodness gives. Only habitual graciousness within will give them all.

It is interesting to remember in connection with this that many of the women who have been famous for their beauty and fascination for men achieved their greatest triumphs between the ages of 30 and 40.

Josephine was 33 when she married Napoleon, and, judging from the letters written by the absent husband during the early years of their union, she inspired him with intense love and jealousy. It has been said that she was the only woman Napoleon ever really loved.

Mme. Recamier was most beautiful between the ages of 35 and 55, and Mll. Mare at 45 was at the zenith of her triumphs. Diane de Potiers was 36 when she won the heart of Henry II. The king was half her age, but his devotion never changed.

Anne of Austria was 38 when described as the most beautiful woman in Europe, and Buckingham and Richelieu were her jealous admirers. Ninon de l’Enclos, the most celebrated wit and beauty of her day, was the idol of France, and she was 72 when the Abbe de Beriais fell in love with her.

Bianca Capello was 33 when the Grand Duke francis of Florence fell captive to her charms and made her his wife, though he was five years her junior. Mme. de Maintenon was 43 when united to Louis, and Catharine II. of Russia was 33 when she seized the empire of Russia and captivated the dashing young Gen. Orloff. Up to the time of her death, at 67 she seems to have retained her powers of bewitchery.

Cleopatra was nearly 40 when Mark Antony fell beneath her spell, and the most famous beauty the world has ever known, Helen of Troy, was long bast 30 when she perpetrated the most notable elopement on record and set the Trojan warriors to fighting for her sake.

“Babies never get seasick. I have carried thousands of them in my time,” said an American line steward to the Philadelphia Record, “and in rough weather I have seen their fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters keel over like soldiers before a cannonball; but not so with the babies. Whether it be rough or smooth at sea, a baby is always an excellent sailor—rosy, jolly and with the appetite of a horse. Do you know the explanation of this singular fact? It is as simple as the fact is strange. Babies don’t get seasick because they are accustomed to the rocking of the cradle. That movement is much like the rocking of a ship. A baby aboard ship, therefore, is merely a baby in an unusually big cradle, and there is nothing odd to him about the rocking, for it is what he has been accustomed to all his life.”

New kinds of living butterflies can be produced from existing forms by greatly increasing the temperature of the place where the butterflies are kept. A difference in coloring and even in form has thus been obtained by Prof. Fisher in recent experiments.—Science