I do not know, if, climbing some steep hill Through fragrant wooded pass, this glimpse I bought; Or whether in some mid-day I was caught To upper air, where visions of God’s will In pictures to our quickened sense fulfil His word. But this I saw: A path I sought Through wall of rock. No human fingers wrought The golden gates which opened, suddenly, still, And wide. My fear was hushed by my delight. Surpassing fair the lands; my path lay plain; Alas! So spell-bound, feasting on the sight, I paused, that I but reached the threshold bright, When, swinging swift, the golden gates again Were rocky walls, by which I wept in vain! H. H. What He Did. The idea of refusing water to fever patients is, we are glad to say, nearly a thing of the past. The following incident, related by a sailor, serves as an illustration of the water treatment. “Some years ago, when we were in Jamaica, several of us were sick with the fever, and among the rest the second mate. The doctor had been giving him brandy to keep him up, but I thought it was a queer kind of ‘keeping up.’ Why, you see, it stands to reason that if you heap fuel on a fire, it will burn the faster, and putting brandy to a fever is just the same kind of thing. “Well, the doctor gave him up, and I was sent to watch with him. No medicine was left, for it was no use--nothing would help him; and I had my directions what to do with the body when he was dead. Toward midnight he asked for some water. I got him the coolest I could find, and all he wanted; and if you’ll believe me, in less than three hours he drank three gallons. “The sweat rolled from him like rain. Then I thought sure he was gone; but he was sleeping, and as sweetly as a child. In the morning when the doctor came, he asked what time the mate died. “‘Won’t you go in and look at him?’ I said. “He went in and took the mate’s hand. “‘Why,’ said he, ‘the man is not dead. He’s alive and doing well. What have you been giving him?’ “‘Water, simply water, and all he wanted of it,’ said I. “I don’t know as the doctor learned anything from that, but I did.” End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Secrets of the Harem, by Anonymous