proceeded also to fumble very ominously in his coat-pocket, and to murmur, "If you air from Massachusetts, why don't you shoot?”— which, when a Western and a Northern gentleman are having words, may usually be considered as a defiance to mortal combat. How far matters might have gone is uncertain; but, fortunately, Morphine P. Zoetrapple was a member of the board. The rare presence of mind of this distinguished man at once threw oil on the troubled waters. He rose, cut a mighty chew of big-lick tobacco (having previously deposited his "old soldier," or exhausted quid, in the huge gutta-percha "receiver" provided for the use of the board at the cost of two dollars twenty-five cents), and in slow and dignified accents demanded to know if this was a deliberative assembly or a Bar. "Air the eyes of the country upon us, or air they not?" pursued Mr. Zoetrapple. "If they air, let us be calm and temperate; equally defiant of the envious foreigner without as of seditious Hoosiers and Buckeyes within. Air we Blood Tubs? Air we Plug-uglies? Is this a meeting of Dead Rabbits, or a symposium of intelligence and reason? Let us rather burn our ships, break down our bridges, build a golden cestus for the flying enemy, pass bogus dollar bills, fergit to pay for our board, and foreswear our glorious heritage of liberty, than meanly waste our time in gross personalities and irritating recriminations. I, sir," Mr. Zoetrapple went on, "am from the State of New York. I am a Cosmopolite. I am above paltry local perjudices. My father was a Jew, and my mother a German; my uncle was a Pilgrim Father, and my grandmother an Injun. Let us see if we can't settle this little matter. To what, sir, does the account to which my honourable friend objects foot up?"

The so fiercely-discussed account turned out to be a quarter of a dollar, charged for a pane of glass which had been broken, out of sheer cussedness, by young Zeke Scallywag, the son of the proprietor of the Wild-Cat Hotel, Barmagill.

Mr. Morphine P. Zoetrapple drew a quarter of a dollar from his pocket, and flung it on the table. "This is the first meetin' I ever knew blocked by twenty-five cents," he remarked. And there was peace at the meeting of the Board of Superintendence of the School District of Barmagill.

ON THE TEETH

CIVILISATION, whatever its defects, is usually conducive to beauty; but in respect to human teeth there is a marked exception. The ugliest savage races-the snail- and snake- and caterpillar-eating Australian savage, the man-eating New Zealander of a past generation, the Fejee cannibals of to-day, the Esquimaux, the Calmuck, whatever the savage or half-savage race we may choose for illustration-have finer teeth than have human beings nursed in luxury, fed delicately, clad and housed comfortably. The fact is plain to sight, but the explanation varies. To say-as many are content with saying that the deteriorated teeth of civilised races are referable to the habits of civilised life is, in point of fact, to evade explanation; the question being, what are the habits and usages of civilised life to teeth so detrimental? Some hold to the belief that sugar is the cause-an opinion I conceive to be untenable, as in the sequel will more appear; others would refer to vinegar the teeth-deterioration of civilised humanity-a verdict irreconcilable with the subsidiary rôle fulfilled by vinegar amongst the constituents of human food. I believe that, more than to any other cause, the inferiority of teeth in civilised to those in savage life, is referable to the swallowing of hot food and drink; often in rapid alternation with cold. Be that as it may, failure of teeth seems a part of the price civilised humanity must pay for the boon of civilisation; hence the due economy of teeth becomes of high importance, whether as a matter of beauty or of utility. Childhood past, a natural tooth. lost is usually lost for ever. The cases in which a third set of teeth have been produced are so extremely rare, that the event is looked upon, when occurring, as one of Nature's wayward freaks. The loss of teeth has more than a local meaning: it is a sign in itself of lowered vitality, and it is a cause of further constitutional defect. In the negro slave-market soundness of teeth is relied upon as a sign of sound health and general bodily competence. "He who has lost a tooth," wrote Haller, "may consider that he has begun to die, and already taken possession of the next world with part of his body." Although the teeth-economy of human beings is that which especially concerns us here, still, comparative examination of the teeth of different animals has so much of interest that one ought not to pass it by. As a general rule, all animals of the mammalia class have teeth. To this, however, there are some exceptions; thus, the northern or whalebone whale is devoid of teeth, though the warm-sea sperm-whale has tremendous fangs, as those whom he has attacked in his fury long ago discovered.

All the ant-eater tribe again are devoid of teeth; appendages that would be useless to these animals; even in the way, the habits of their life regarded. A few remaining exceptions might be cited, were one to run the animated kingdom through; the rule is, as common experience makes known, that mammalian animals are all teeth-provided. Not all, however, with teeth on the same pattern and principle. Among mammals the elephant is most peculiar for the mode of teeth formation and development. About the tusks of an elephant little need be written; they are simply long and large teeth, which grow pretty much after the manner of other teeth. It is the short or grinding-teeth of an elephant that are the most peculiar; they are developed in a sort of bony trench, and in growth continually advance forwards. The teeth of rodent animals are, again, peculiar. Thus, for example, if the teeth of a rat be examined, they will be found to terminate each in a cutting, chisel-like edge; and the arrangement of parts is such that, gnaw as much as the creature will or must, the sharpness of these chisel-edges can never be lessened. The result comes to pass in this way: The outside surface of the tooth of a rat contains the hardest materials; wherefore it follows that the inner portion of each tooth is soonest to wear away. From this arrangement, and due to the operation of this cause, it follows that the outer crust of each of a rat's front-teeth will extend in length, and form a cutting edge. In order to make this arrangement effective in rodent animals, the longitudinal growth of these chisel-teeth is made very rapid; so rapid that if an opposite corresponding tooth be drawn, whereby no bearing-point shall be left, the unopposed tooth will continue growing circularly until, curling round, its farther development is stopped by pressure of the animal's own skull. A preparation illustrative of this may be seen in the Museum of the Royal College of Surgeons.

Teeth, regarded as to material, are composed of a hard outer covering known as enamel, and an inner portion of soft bone furnished with nervous branches; as in toothache we discover. Chemically, toothenamel is remarkable in the circumstance of its holding a considerable portion of chloride of calcium, the material of fluor, or Derbyshire spar, in point of fact. The full complement of human teeth is thirty-two, four of which, however, coming late, are called wisdom-teeth. Everybody who is of suitable age remembers that, when a child, his first teeth fell out, these having been the first set, or milk-teeth.

The coming of those milk-teeth belongs to those oblivious days of infancy and early childhood which, going, leave no memory behind. That order, however, was the following: the milk, or deciduous, teeth were twenty in number, and they made their appearance thus: first came the four central incisors, about the seventh month after birth, but occasionally earlier or later, those of the lower jaw appearing first; next in order came the lateral incisors, the lower jaw again having precedence. Those teeth usually appear between the seventh and tenth

month. Then there was a short period of rest, after which the front molars came forth soon after the twelfth month; these were followed by the canines, which appeared between the fourteenth and twentieth months. The posterior molars were the last, and being the most uncertain as to time, one cannot specify when they came for any particular individual, say any time between the eighteenth and thirty-sixth months.

The second dentition consists in the replacement of the deciduous, or milk, teeth by the second or permanent set. It usually commences about the seventh or eighth year. The gums of the new teeth, however, are prepared; ready, and waiting, a long time before this. The middle incisors are first shed and renewed; then the lateral incisors. Next are shed the anterior or milk molars, to be replaced by the anterior bicusped. About a year afterwards the posterior milk molars fall out, being replaced by other bicusped. The canines are the last of the milk-teeth to be exchanged. Next year the second pair of true molars will appear; but the third pair, or dentes sapientia-otherwise wisdom-teeth-may come at any subsequent period.

It has been already stated that; in exceptional cases, a third set of teeth has been known to come. Looking over the records of extreme old age, it will be remarked that any considerable extension of life beyond ninety has often been accompanied by the growth of one or more of a third set of teeth. A remarkable instance of this I find narrated by Dr. Slare, in a book written by him in advocacy of a saccharine diet, and published in 1715. Most of us are aware that amongst certain people sugar has the evil repute of destroying the teeth of persons much addicted to it, unjustly as the writer believes, and as he has already recorded. He is not aware that the imputation rests on any firmer basis than that of the economical spirit of thrifty housekeepers. In the early days of sugar the teeth-destroying prejudice against sugar was much stronger than now. As an aid towards confuting that prejudice, Dr. Slare-the great sugar-advocate of the last century-published the case of Mr. Malory, his grandfather by the mother's side. This very old gentleman led, testifies the doctor, an active, but sober and temperate life loved hunting, a gun, and a hawk; was very regular in his eating and drinking; did make three meals a day, but did only eat flesh at dinner; drank every morning near a pint of good soft ale; then walked in his orchard as many turns as did make a mile; seldom drank wine, but when he did 'twas Canary: did this in the even of his old age. His eyesight was so good that, when between eighty and ninety, he could take up a pin from the ground. His stomach never failed him to the last, and-what concerns us most-when this old gentleman was past eighty-one, his hair did change somewhat dark, and certain of his teeth coming out they were replaced by new ones, and so did they continue to come until he had a new set quite round. He delighted in all manner of sweetmeats; used in the morning to spread honey upon his bread; at other times to strew sugar over his bread-and-butter. He loved to have

all his sauces very sweet, especially his mutton, hashed or boiled, or any other sort of meat that would bear sauces.

The utility of teeth needs no expatiation; yet they are not in most cases treated judiciously, not with the respect the memory of " gone once for ever gone" demands. Amongst the evil habits most to be reprobated is the use of hard toothbrushes. The opinion prevails in some circles of injudicious people that some latent virtue, some strengthening power, resides in the bristles of a hard toothbrush. A greater error than this it would be difficult to imagine. The teeth, though bony, are organised. They have to receive their due blood-supply from vessels of the gums. When, from any cause, the blood-supply is cut off, then do the teeth loosen in their sockets, decay, and ache. Far from hardness being a quality desirable, the bristles of a toothbrush cannot well be too soft. If hard, they infallibly denude the gums after a time. When this has come to pass, decay and pain are not far off. In respect to dentifrices again, much error prevails. They are pretty often mechanical, often chemical. Some are compounded of hard, gritty materials, that wear away the enamel and mechanically abrade the gums; others hold chemical agents, that whiten the enamel-surface of teeth indeed, but at the price of destruction. Long before any admonition conveyed by pain, caries will set in. The fact can only be determined by examination by some intelligent dentist. Now is the time for preservation by filling, and not when toothache has established itself. A dentist is not a mere cosmetic or beauty-artist, as he is too commonly regarded; he is a physician who works by giving effect to ordinary powers of digestion instead of physic. The importance of mastication as a preliminary to digestion can hardly be overstated; and, of course, the perfection of this mechanical act will be correlative with the perfection of teeth. The remark is common enough that dentists are not what they should be; not reliable as men of honour; more chiefly intent on running up long bills. The opprobrium is far too sweeping; there are honourable and dishonourable dentists, as there are honourable and dishonourable doctors and lawyers. Wherever many opportunities for cheating exist, many provocatives to dishonour, there some men will be found to take advantage of them. As regards dentists, the proposition may in a general way be laid down, that the higher-priced men are in the end the cheapest. The work of such may ever be relied upon as the best ; and to patients who may be unable to pay the full honorarium, such gentlemen are ever considerate. One class of dentists are to be scrupulously avoided those who exhibit specimen-cases in druggists' shops, and put brass-plates on druggists' doors. These practitioners vaunt themselves as being economical. They are the very reverse; they are really most expensive; and it could not well be otherwise, seeing they have to divide profits with the exhibiting druggists. In teeth-economy the principle should be established of keeping a tooth as long as it is useful, but no longer. When a tooth has ceased to be good for mastication, or for