Democratic Press, Volume 1, Number 13, Decatur, Adams County, 10 January 1895 — Page 7

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’—~~ - —«==* CHAPTER X —Continued. < He could not have done better. “Un- f charitable' - won his grandmother— < •■unsophisticated,” his cousin. i No: Mrs. Campbell would not, in- | deed, have him appear, nor have him be uncharitable, not to say un-Chris- < tian: and certainly, to harbor any sort i of grudge against a friend, eventhough that friend had brought it upon him- f •elf. sa ored. she could not Out own. of i an un-Christian temper: wherefore, if 1 it had been on that account that he I had met Sir Frederick Bellenden half- i Way, she could but commend her i grand-on and endeavor to follow his s example Bellenden should be re- f ceived in Mount street. And the dear old creature actually felt ashamed of s her own feelings, and told herself that s •Id heat s might sometimes take ales- t •on from young on's. With Geraldine Cecil's wisdom had i equally told. Tobe sure, she would 1 not wirh to se"rn ‘ unsophisticated” 1 for the world. To bo sure, she had t mistaken her cou.-in and misjudged i him. He was not watching, ho was warning her. He meant to convey » £ limelv hint. < Well, she would take his hint, but 1 ■he must ta ,e it in her own way t not his. He was quite right to inti- 1 mate that she would do well not to let t any sense of injury or wrong appear: : but when it came to the practical part f of the proceeding she thought she could do better than he. He might s know for himself. It might be right < enough for him to accept Bellenden's : overtures, and be reciprocal and re- I sponsive: but he had not once— and t the hot flush rose to her brow, and her < teeth were set within her rosy lips at c the thought which followed. s “Do bring him,” cried she the next r minute. “Do, granny, let Cecil bring 1 Sir Frederick Bellenden here. 1 want \ to see him again. And, granny, if 1 t am not at homo when he comes on < Sunday, you will entertain him. will r you not? Say you will, there's a t dear.” “If you are not at home? Where t were you thinking of going, my love?” e inquired granny in some surprise. “To the children's service at Berke- ’ ley Chapel. You know it is so near £ that 1 can easily go alone, if Miss Cor- i unua does not care to go with me. I But you will not go. dear: so granny i will be at home, Cecil, if you bring i (.'apt, Bellenden there now. I must 1 remember, and so must granny, that I he is apt. Bellenden’ no longer. 1 < cannot think how it is that we both [ forget, unless” with a tinge of the old ; bitterness “unless it may lai that we i have neither seen nor heard anything 1 of him since he became ‘Sir Fred- i erick.’” s “Gh, shaT you be out?” said Cecil, t looking rather blank. “I am so fond of a children’s service. 1 And yo ir sisters took me to Berkeley < Chapel the first Sunday we wore here. £ and I liked it so much.” < “But the serv.ee will bo over by 5 i o’clock, my dear.” her grandmother < reminded her; “1 believe it is over by < 4. And you must come in to tea, so I that if Cecil comes then ” 1 “Oh, I never meant to come before,” i •aid he 1 “Imay be back, perhaps,” observed i Geraldine carelessly. “I only meant to say that granny would be here for I certain. It would not signify, you i know, if I went along to Grosvenor 1 Sqn re to tea —” “To Grosvenor Square? To us?” 1 said Cecil. “But but do they expect you? Os course they would be de- ’ lighted; but. you see, my mot ter al ways goes to her own room to rest, and the girls are either in theirs or off 1 somewhere or other. My mother does not have people in at 5 o'clock on Sun- I days as they do at most houses, so, ; though J know that of course they < would always have you, still, you see, if nobody were in, you might have i your walk for nothing.” “Should I? It is too hot to take ' walks for nothing, certainly,” retorted I Geraldine, with a tormenting smile. i “You will be in at 5, then?” said he, persevering Iv. . < “No. sir, I did not say that. And I never bind m yself by engagements, in 1 case I feel a desire to break them. If I make an engagement I keep it -I am not like some people —” the allusion | wa- not so veiled but that he caught it ; —“wherefore prudence suggesteth > making none.” And ho felt that she 1 did not mean him to entrap her. He was, in consequence, somewhat surprised when the day and the hour arrived, On thinking the matter over Geraldine had neither attended the service at Berkeley Chapel nor gone to tea in Grosvenor Sr uaro. Instead, she had arrayed herself m a dress of the softest fabric and palest tint, pinned a rare bunch of iillies in her bosom, and seated herself by the balcony window of the little shady drawing-room. Five o’clock had scarcely struck ere the door-bell rang, and the next moment the two gentlemen were being ushered in. One ouick throb her pulses could not but give, a faint shade of emotion could not but be felt—but outwardly the fair girl who stood up to receive them was all gentle smiles and sweet composure, and the hand that was laid for a moment in that of Bellenden was cool and quiet as his own. This was he, and the meeting was over. The thought so engrossed Geraldine during the first few minutes which succeeded that, althoug she conversed audibly and sen-ibly with her cousin, and knew and comprehended what he was talking about, she had to exert every effort to do so, and was aware that she durst not let not her attention wander for an instant. A glance hai sufficed to show that Bellenden was as much altered as herself. 1

He was broader, touter. redder than he had been, she thought he was hardly so handsome, nor so elegant in shape. It pleased her to note that he ha 1 a dash of gray on either temple. But his voice his laugh? she almost wished they, too, had changed: she knew them so well, remembered them so well. He was talking and laughing as easily as of old, it seemed. Her graudmo'her, still intent on acting up to Cecil’s instructions, was benign and gracious as ever: and neither in his first reception nor in aught that followed had he anything to complain of. And yet Bellenden knew, within the limits of that brief half-hour, what he had and had not to expect. It was obvious that he was not to take up his former footing in the household: it was equally plain that there were to be no reminiscences, nor reverting to things past, and it was markedly clear that 7. iss Campbell had done with "Jerry.” or even with “Geraldine” for ever, as regarued him. “Quite the swagger young lady,” , quoth he to himself, half-sadly, halfamused: “tremendously line and fashionabel. I might have known it would be so. Those frank, simple children never last. One brea*h of the world nips them in the blossoming. Why should I have e pected her to be different from others?” lor he had expected it, had been struck with a sudden and strange sense of the beauty and innocence of that girlish face as he had ga ed upon it, himself unseen, on the presentation day, and had felt thereafter a restless longing forahother and a nearer view. He had looked up Cecil Haymond with that purpose—he had not dared to come alone. Yet he had thought to carry it with a high hand all me same. It would certainly be b st not to appear as if he had done anything to be ashamed of, and it would go far toward vindicating his behavior it he could appear unconscious of there having been anything about it to vindicate. With a bold front accordingly he sat and talked. Ahl but he was ashamed for all that, and the truth seemed to glare at him out of two fiery eyes. Not Geraldine’s eyes, for they were never turned his way at all, though they beamed large and liquid as ever on Cecil, on her grandmother, on any ob ect in the room rather than himself not the ol«l lady's, for they were mild, serene, benevolent, and regarded I him with a calmness which he himself : was far from feeling; not Cecil's: Cecil ' was perfectly happy, and perfectly on- ' conscious secure of having done the right thing and charmed that all had turned out so w ell. No, the eyes were tho-e of his own ' newly-awakened and indignant con- ’ science, j What a fool he had made of himself: , Why could he not, by a little ordinary ' attention, have done away with all this awkwardness, and this tiresome embarrassment? A letter or two, Geraldine's present, an invitation from his mother, a little civility shown to the Haymonds any one of these would have enabled him now not only to feel | quite comfortable, but would have given him the pleasant right to be regarded in the light of one who was more than a mere acquaintance. He felt all at once a desire to be looked upon in this light: and the desire was scarcely there ere he was convinced it would never be realized. He almost sighed as Cecil looked at him, and rose to go. He had interchanged a few gay words with Geraldine. She had shown him the flowers on her balcony, and had allowed, in answer to his inquiries, that she was charmed with all she had seen and done, and was looking forward with delight to what was next to follow. Both had confined themselves to London and to the present. The past had not been touched upon—lnchmarew never named. Then young Raymond had drawn near, and had confidently murmured something in his cousin’s ear, at which the other had at once moved aside, haughty and vexed by this interruption. and. moreover, with a keen and hitter recollection of having once said that Cecil would do well to obtain a start with the heiress. That start had apparently been obtained. “You are going to ride with her?” said Sir Frederick, as the two walked away. “Does she ride as well as ever?” “Every bit: and we have got hersueh a horse! ’ “Ah' have I seen her out?” drawled Bellenden.as insinuating that he might have easily done bo without remarking it. “No: the horse only came up yesterday. You will see her out to-morrow.” All the world saw Geraldine out on the morrow. As she rode slowly up and down the sunlit Row. where the shine from the glittering heavens dancing upon leaf and stem, the gloss on the satin-like coats of the horses, the flutter of fan or parasol, lace and feather among the brilliant, many-tinted crowds, made a spectacle never to be afterward forgotten, the youthful heiress was hertelf one of its chiefest ornaments She had not been there before, for it had been a busy time of day with her, and she had not cared to go until she could take her place among the riders. Moreover, the previous weeks had not been beautiful by the sudden blaze of snnshine and warmth which had now drawn forth every lingerer: so that, although there had been always the same thing in kind going on. it had not attained to its full perfection, and. hearing this, she had been content to wait. But now what a scene of enchantment it was! Someth) es cantering lightly over the soft, well-watered soil; sometimes sauntering past the rail ngs. scanning the loungers on the side path and beneath the sha e: anon calling a halt at tne corner where congregated the > greatest numbers of all. and where she was informed that any who knew her, and knew she was to be there that day for the first time, would certainly be watching. Cecil knew exactly where to go. and when to stand still. He also knew by sight a great manypeople Os whom, in her ignorance, she tad barely heard, but whom she was apt enough to perceive she ought to know alxi.it and ought to understand about. Cecil evidently considered it

hnportan* that she should: and be wag very muc in earnest ana took a great deal of [>»:ns in the matter. He was very little less of a young don than he had been in years i a-t. but his wonted solemnity and profundity now took a Ci:.erent tu n an,:, as a rising young man, and an rmbryo politi ian. and a bachelor who had his own rooms and had his name uown for several good clubs, and who could leave his card at a fair number of good houses, he was now ready to treat an acquirement of a certain amount of fashionable knowledge with all the gravity he had formerly bestowed upon his Oxonian life. Accordingly he did not allow the present excellent opportunity for improving his cousin’.- mind to pass without exerting himself to take advantage of it, and presently he expressed his satisfaction thus. “You have made a very good beginning, Geraldine. You have been lucky in your day. It is not every day that brings out so many of the right sort of people. I don t know when 1 have seen the place fuller,” looking round complacently. “Yes. I think it is delightful,” exclaimed she, with animation. “It is delightful altogether. The sunlight and the shade, ai.d the people and the horses. lam afraid I shall want to come here every day, though, Ce il.” “Well, of course: that is what people do. It is the correct thing to do that. To come only now and then i~ nonsense. You don't get seen, nor known, nor anything. You will soon begin to notice the most part of the riders who are here now you will get to know them all bv sight they come regularly. It is quite the thing to do.” “How glad I am I have got my I eautiful ‘Sir I aucelot ' ” patiing his neck “Ay. he is quite the right horse to have. I dare say he has been very much admired. \ our horse is scarcely less looked at than yourself in the Row.” “I should hope a great deal more.” said Geraldine, laughing, “if ‘Sir Lancelot' is only to be less looked at ” and then she stopped suddenly, and bent over her saddle, and was too busily arranging the bunch ol flowerets in her button-hole to proceed further. “There is Bellenden over there.” observed Cecil, all unconsciously, “shall we ride upto him? I dare say he is come to have a look at you. ” "Not likely. And he is speaking to other people. Ido not think he has seen us, so we need not trouble about him, and lam tirea of the corner.” qoth his companion, turning her horse's head round: “I should like to take another turn up and down, Cecil, if you do not mind. Let us go the whole length of the ride once more — just once more—before we go in to luncheon. Come,” and she had set off ere he repbed. Nothing loath, Cecil followed. He had been willing to speak to Bellenden. it was true, as he always was willing to be seen in company with a well-known presentable acquaintance —but he was more than pleased that Geraldine should not care about it, and should prefer “another turn up and down” with himself. They walked [>ast Sir Frederick—tolerably close past, too-chatting gaily together, as though neither perceived him: and presently he could see their horses break into a canter, and the two figures disappear ui ong the other riders. Ho almost felt as it he had been insulted. Be had come there, as Cecil had said, to see Geraldine.

He did not fre pent the ride at that hour, for the scene had long ago palled upon him, and he had not his horses in town: but he haa felt he should like to behold the little horsewoman of Inchmarew mounted once more. Why should he not? She had been quite civil to him, and there was no po-slble reason why the two should not be good friends, or, at any rate, polite, sociable ae juaintances in future. It was not to be expected that she should be as demonstrative and openhearted as when she was a child —nay. it was hardly perhaps to be expected that she should think as highly of him even in her secret soul as she had once cared not to hide that she nad done: but he did not thins: he had himself altered, or, at least, so altered as that Geraldine should withdraw from him all ordinary liking. She had certainly not been warm in her greeting the day before, but neither had she been frigid. Had she been one or other he would have known what to make of it. But, as it was, he had ithanks to Cecil, been ba Ted: aud the only solution of the problem which had at first occurred to him had been too disagreeable to have been long contemplated. But it now recurred with renewed force. Her indifference could mean nothing else than that he was now powerless either to attract or to repel; and whether that powerlessness were the result of any change in himself, or whether it proceeded from the ascendency of a rival, it did not greatly signify. Either way was bad enough. That he had been seen and marked as he stood there in the bright May sunlight, he felt on instant conviction. He had himself been watching the pair for some little time previously, and had known the exact moment when each had almost simultaneously discovered him. When Geraldine had turned her horse's head he had fancied her about to approach and renew hi- acquaintanceship and had responded to the movement instantly and then the two nad walked slowly by, to all appearance taken up solely with each other. It had been done deliberately; it njpst have been of set purpose. Had he- shown ? But he had shown nothing. He did not think that anv re-ret. or pi ue, or annoyance either with himself, or with them, had been visible the previous afternoon, and. therefore, to pass him by so nakedly, must have been simply owing to the state of their own feelings. They had not eared to be intruded upon. They could not be troubled with; the presence of an outsider. He went away caring infinitely more about the whole than he had done wheo he came. [TO BE CONTINUED.] The Czar's White Horses The Czar of Russia has one set of fifty horses, all pure white, with blue eyes. They are beautiful creatures, but deaf, as white animals with blue eyes always are. These white horses are used in showy processions on state occasions, and, like Queen Victoria’s famous cream-colored horses, are never sold from the imperial stables. When past use they are shot and buried with due ceremony.—Boston Herald.

THE WONDERFUL JAPANESE. Ex-Minister Singham Re'ates Interesting Facts John A. Bingham, at the age of 80, is one of Ohio’s grand old men. For fifty years lie has held an eminent place in the making of history, and forty years ago he began a Jong term of service in the Congress of the United States. He has outlived the master minds of his generation, but even in his old age he retains much of his tire and eloquence. After twenty years in Congress, during the most stirring era of this country’s history, he retired in 1873. He was then fairly in his prime, rich in resources, overflowing with the inspirations gathered from friendships and struggles of war times, and he was loath to let go his hold on public life. President Grant appointed him Minister to Japan, and to the surprise of those who knew the old man eloquent and his desire for distinction at home, he accepted. To their great surprise he remained in Japan twelve years. Ina recent interview Mr. Bingham said: Referring to the present war I can see only one underlying design, and that is the infamous design of European powers to finally seize and parcel out among themselves the whole of China and eventually Japan. Isayinfamous because I have always objected to Europeans, particularly to English interference, with the governments of both nations, especially with Japan. There is something else which maybe a prime cause of this overwhelming desire of China and Japan toretain the mastery of Corea. The tradition goes that in one secluded and closely guarded province of the peninsula there are extensive gold and silver mines—a veritable Golconda, which supplies Japan with precious metals. I say a tradition because nothing absolutely correct could ever be learned about that wonderful province, so carefully is the approach ;o it guarded

M* •■al j * ‘\ v EX-MINISTER BIXGIIAM. The Japanese are a wonderful people. They- are a generous, brave, happy people. As soldiers they are ferocious fighters, especially in handto hand conflicts. The history of their wars in the days of bludgeons and swords records awful carnage and terrific contests of man against man. Now when given civilized moans of warfare their skill and ingenuity will avail most tremendously against the ancient and obsolete fighting methods of the Chinese. Minister Bingham delights to talk of Japan, and is eloquent in praise of the Emperor. “He was a young man when he came to the throne,” said Mr. Bingham. “And he is now but forty-one, I found him exceedingly modest, almost retiring and very devoted to his people. He is a man of splendid education and, though he speaks our language—or rather understands it—he never chose to converse with me in English. No. he considers it dishonorable and unpatriotic to speak in any language but the language of Japan. But that he does understand English and that he reads it I had ample means of knowing. “As another illustration of his noble character, let me refer to the splendid system of free schools in Japan. The Mikado issued the edict that all children of the Empire should be taught free, and he saw that the provisions of his edict were carried out, until to-day the school system of Japan is equal to ours. The Japanese are not a rich people. They are really poor, but it is wonderful to see the contributions to the school fund by those who could afford it. The rich proclaimed themselves in accord with the Mikado’s edict, and gave generously that the system of schools might bo gloriouslyperfected. “When my term of office had expired the Emperor was loath to see us depart, and the Empress, good, noble little woman, made a speech in which she thanked us for goodness shown to her people. “ ‘We are sorry- you are leaving us,’she said. ‘Only one ocean divides Japan from the United States, and we wish you would come and visit us.’ “It was a touching, quaint little speech, which came from the heart and was an index to her beautiful haracter.” The Telegraph in China. “The natives were very bitter ngainst the telegraph at first, as it was reported the foreigners cut out the tongues of children and suspended them on the insulators to transmit the message from pole to pole. Then again the wires disturbed the graves of the ‘Fingshin,’ the spirit of

wind ■n.l water, fhetelegraphic Instruments used are mostly of London make. The system of telegraphing in Chinese is very simple. There are about eight thousand characters in the Chinese language. These are all numbered from one up and so printed in book form. It is therefore onlynecessary to telegraph the numbers. This system is used in the government dispatches.” FINGER FOR NOSE. Remarkable Operation of a Surgeon on a Noseless Man. The achievements of American- surgeons in bold and extraordinary operations have long been the wonder of the world. But now- from the other side of the Atlantic comes a story which shows tiiat the old country is waking up a bit in the art of engrafting living human flesh. A young man has put his finger to his nose, and it remains there permanently. A few months ago a youth whose nasal organ was missing, as the result of an accident, called at Charing Cross Hospital, London, with the request that the surgeons would supply the deficiency, artificially or otherwise. He expressed himself as willing to undergo any sort of treatment by which his disfigured face might be made fairly presentable, and not aholntely repulsive, to his best Sunday summer girl Mr. Bloxam, the senior surgeon, took the interesting case in hand. First, the amputated finger of another patient was carved, and fashioned to the semblance of a nose, and then securely grafted on the face. But it was found that this mutilated digital appendage had not survived its cutting up. It was “dead” and failed to take fresh root. The noseless man, nothing daunted thereupon agreed to the surgeon’s , suggestion that one of his own (the patient’s) fingers should be cutoff to furnish a nasal organ But in order that the finger shouldYiot be wasted in the event of this operation being unsuccessful, it was only half amputated The patient’s arm being encased In plaster, for four weeks he held his own live finger to his face in the hope of it. taking root. This it did The portion which was still attached to his hand was then cut through, and soon joined the rest in adhering firmly to the face. Although minus a finger, the young man now has a new nose of his own flesh and blond. The transferred cartilage has been so manipulated by- clever Dr Bloxam that its original identity- is entirely lost, and the further process of shaping it is now being proceeded with. It is not known whether the plucky young Briton prefers the “nez retrousse” or the aquiline. He will doubtless be in a position to take his choice. Dentistry in Japan. The study and practice of dentistryin Japan have little in common with the profession as known in this country. An American who had occasion I to employ a Japanese dentist visited I one, accompanied by Minister Hubi bard, and tells this story- of his experience: “One day I was troubled with the toothache and Mr. Hubbard i took me to a dentist and explained . to the saddle-colored operator that I wanted the grinder extracted I was placed in a bamboo chair and tilted j slightly back. The dentist examined I my teeth, talking volubly meanwhile S to Uncle Sam’s representative. Suddenly- his thumb and forefinger closed , on the troublesome tooth, and before I I had the faintest idea -of what was I going to happen he lifted it out and I held it before me, smiling at the j same time that vacant smile peculiar |to the children of the Orient. ‘You j were waiting for the forceps, were you?’ said Minister Hubbard, with a I laugh ‘They don’t use ’em here, j Look at this. Here’s a young Jap ! taking his first lesson in dentistry.’ A twelve-year-old Japanese boy sat the floor, having before him a j board in which were a number of I holes into which pegs had been tightIly driven. He was attempting to exI tract the pegs with his thumb and ! forefinger Mr. Hubbard explained that, as the strength of this natural pair of forceps developed by practice, I the pegs would be driven in tighter. I After a couple of years at peg-pull-ing the young dentist would graduate and be able to lift the most refractory molar in the same manner that he had lifted wooden pegs. West Indian Superstitions. To cross where four roads meet at 6 or 12 o’clock will bring misfortune. It is most unlucky to live in a corner house. if you wish to enlarge your house, never do so lengthwise; if you do, a member of your family will die. If you break a bottle of olive oil, you will have misfortune for seven years; also if you kill a cat. If you keep fowls, collect all the eggs laid on Good Friday- till the following Good Friday, then break them. This will insure great good fortune. If a dog bite you, go to a lime tree, select a ripe lime, cut half of it off. and bury it; as this decays, so will the dog’s teeth, and no harm will come to you. Beautiful as the novelties are, they will be in the background compared to the reign that black will have. There will be at least six black cos- ! tumes sold to every three of colors. In millinery the proportion in favor ! of black will be greater, says a ><sadin«r modiste

AN OLD-TIME HANGING Haifa “entury Ago an Execution Was a Public Picnic. Executions in the United States half a century ago were not restricted. as they are now, to a prison yard, in the presence of a limited number of witnesses, but were celebrated conspicuously on an open field, before a large and often rollicking and tumultuous crowd of spectators. Such a body I remember to have seen gathered on such an amphitheatre more than sixty years ago to witness the hanging of a murderer. The man was a farm hand, and well known. When under the influence of strong drink he was sullen, truculent and dangerous; but when sober, he was so proverbially quiet and inoffensive that he was the easy-going butt of his associates. While at work one day in harvest time, mowing a meadow near town, he drank freely and became tipsy; whereupon one of his comrades indulged in longcontinued and rough horse-play at his expense, till in an excess of passion inflamed by rum he turned upon his tormentor aud slew him on the spot. Os course he was immediately arrested, and never shall 1 forget the wave of horror that swept over the little town when the news of the murder was bruited and the victim was carried to the home of his parents on a barn door. During the trial of the homicide the court-house was crowded to overflowing with people. who flocked in from the country for miles around to listen to the gruesome details of the slaying and to gaze upon the murderer as he was escorted to and fro by the constables between the jail and the court-house. For several days immediately preceding the hanging (that was before the day of railroads, it should be recalled) multitudes from the country for twenty and more miles around flocked into town to see the execution, and some of them “to turn an honest penny.” On the fatal Friday the‘‘BigField”' surrounding the gallows was fringed with booths and tents for the sale of cakes, pies, small beer and other refreshments. interspersed at frequent intervals with farmers’ wagons laden with watermelons, muskmelons, apples, peaches and other fruit, the enterprising venders of which drove a brisk trade under the very shadow of the fatal tree. It was estimated that on that tragic summer day over twenty-five thousand people, a large proportion of whom were women and children, were clustered around the gallows to witness the dying throes of the wretched man. And thoughtless boy though I was. I was shocked by the horrible indifference to the dread event for that poor soul which was manifested, and by the still more horrible jesting, profanity and drunken combats that were indulged in. It was a saturnalia of brutishness and indifference never to be forgotten. A Clock School. The Black Forest of Germany has long been famous for its home industries. The clock making industry flourished until about twenty-five years ago, when America stepped in with machine made goods, against which competition was futile. The Duke of Badan then took the matter up, and determined to reestablish the old clock industry on a scientific basis, and in 1877 a clock school was opened, wood-carving introduced, and a new era of prosperity for the workers commenced. The school has now grown to the dimensions of a technical institute, where everything relating not only to wood carving and clock making is taught, but where the construction of electric apparatus such as telephones and microphones, is undertaken. The course of instruction covers threje years, and is divided into three branches-—the preparatory branch, the clockmaking braqch, and the advanced or supplementary course Thunder Snakes in Texas. On the great staked plains of Texas the thunder snakes are said to make great demonstrations just before, during and after thunder storms, alarming travelers even more than do the elements. Specimens of these so-called thunder snakes have been exhibited, and their markings are beautiful in the extreme. The lithe body is covered with alternate bands of black, white atid yellow. They are non-poisonous and entirely harmless snakes, although quarrelsome. It is said that when thunder storms come up on the plains, these strange snakes issue from their hiding places in the ground and rocks and play around like fierce kittens. They enjoy the flashes of lightning and the rolling of the thunder. At no other time are they found outside of t heir holes, but the plains, it is declared, are literally covered with them during summer storms. Lemon Culture in Florida. The lemon industry is at present in its infancy in this State, but experience has proved it to be profitable . Lemon trees from four to five years old will yield from two to four boxes annually. Fully matured trees will produce from five to ten boxes. These are the finer varieties of lemons, and they are worth from $2 to $3 on the trees. One hundred trees are planted to the acre. It will be seen, therefore, that a grove of ten acres will net the owner, when the trees are in full bearing, from $10.(100 to $20,000 per annum at the minimum net return of $2 a box. The King of the Belgians exercises upon a btoycle t‘,aily.