Ligonier Banner., Volume 14, Number 10, Ligonier, Noble County, 26 June 1879 — Page 7

The Ligonier Banner, 3 B; STOLL, l-'ldlto:’ and Proprietor. LIGONIER. : : : INDIANA.

THE SONG OF THE FIDDLER 1 MAN. | :

THE fiddler man was old and gray, ‘l'ne fiddler man was thin; And his fiddle it had a gruesome crack A)l up and down Its poor old back, And i let a discord in. ; * But wherever he went, or wherever he came, The fiddler's welcome was ever the same; And the song that he sang had a cheery sound All day as he traveled his weary round: “** Thae sun may shine, and the rain may fall, But the good God ruleth over all,” ¢ Sang the fiddler old and gray. :

The fiddler man had neither lands, : - *@%Nor flocks, nor herds. nor gold; He earned what he had of meat and drink, | And lodging, and clothes, and a bit of chink, ° With his fiddle so cracked and old; - As up and down through each street and lane, In the sultry sun or chilling rain. o With twapging string, but, with cheery strain, He fiddled, and sang the old refrain: ; ** The sun may shine and the rain may fall, ‘But the good God rulet- over all, * _And all are fed by His hands.” o

The fiddler man had wealth untold; Ay, sure he had great gain ; 5 For he came and he went, as freeas air, .. And hmi‘e brows were bent with no ‘brooding care, - 1 As he trudged through street and lane. ‘And o'er city pavements, hot and dry, Or in gn.usg"fax‘les. ‘'neath the open sky, As he toited along on his busy feet, ! ‘The children hasted his steps to greet, As he cheerily sa.nflto the great and small Of the God who ruleth over all, y And.whose love is better than gold.

Ah, fiddler man, the grass is green : ) AYove the graveyard hill ; : » And the fiddle that had such a gruesome crack All up and.down its poor old back oo Forever more is still. - i ! But.wherever they name the fiddler’s name, Its kindly welcome is ever the same; In the rose-hedged lane or the city's street, Where oft went straying his weary feet, 4 ‘Fond bearts re-echo the cheery sound . Of the fiddler's soung, with its faith profound: e ’,[_‘houg_hlfhe sun may shine, or the rain may : tall, . i Yet the dear God ruleth lg{)e ull’ -So they keep his mem t;' green. \—Mary E. (. Wyeth, in Christian Union. et e ¥ ; _ * YQU AND . - i A L ov WaeN you and I were lad and lass, . A fresher hue was on the grass, ‘And stuls were twinkling in the sky, Because you hit me in the eye; We quarreled then from tirst to last, When you and L were lad and lass. When you and I were lad and lass, > o Oh frequent clouds the sky o’ercast; f . You called me fool, I answered back, And then yon draped my eye in black. . Such little t,hmfs we could not pass, When youand § were lad and lass. Wien lad and lass were you and I, ; You stole. and ate ma's custard pie, - Then in my coat the crumbs did throw, .- And how they licked me you well know, { Such were the things that came to pass | When you and L were lad and lass. . : ) —oil Uity Derrick. | , ————-——— % . _DO._AS YOU’RE BID.

“¢“MIND 2 man!” i The words were uttered in a tone of ‘ splendid scorn; but an unseen auditor round the corner of the piazza only smiled: nd yet hezwas a man. il ¢ Buly Doll, you will have to mind your husband,” responded a gentle, drawling, exasperating voice. : "««Shall I?” returned the clear. and spirited note of the first speaker. ¢He has not appeared on the stage yet, Grace. When he does, it seems to me, | will be time enough to contemplate submission.”’ ik L The gertleman on the piazza smiled’ again, but he rose quietly and walked away; he did not like to be a listener, however jnvolunta'rihy, for he was a gentleman. - He did not altogether escape tha't presence, however, by his own absence. He ecarried with him a vivid picture of the tall, slight figure, gracetul as a deer; the dark, tender eyes, that could be full of lightning; the proud, delicate, sensitive face; the abundant ‘brown hair, shot with red rays, like a ripe chestnutskin. Hehad studied this portrait many days, for he had known Dorothea Schenck as a ~child; and though for years they had not met, this summer they Wwere together at a quiet little tavern in the hills of Yermont, Mr. Horton for rest from a year of hard work in a city parish, Dora to be with her invalid mother, who could not bear her usual round of Newport and Saratoga. ‘Dorothea Schenck was a spoiled child. The idea of obedience was as distasteful to her as bit and bridle to a wild hnrse. Her outbreak this morn--ing was excited by.some careless gossip of Grace Hamilton—a girl of her own age who had come with them to Addis, partly because Dora had coaxed her, partly because it was cheap; and Grace was not toorich. i ° |

The subject of their discourse had been the sufferings, publicly paraded, of ‘a certain little lagy known to this party, who had been very—and, indeed, absurdly — extravagant, -and brought her husband ' to the brink of fatiure: so near that she had been compelled to zecept asudden and severe retrenchment. ' Grace’s aunt, who was also staying at the Saltash House, had blamed Mrs. Blake severely, and Dora had not objected till Grace affirmed that she did not at all sympathize with Mrs. Blake, as her husband had been very open with her in regard to ‘his business affairs, and had %png since told her she must give up certain habits of lavish expense, or expect him to fail-=a fact which the natural levity afid folly of the woman’s nature led her to treat'as athreat; and so the end came. :

"¢ And I’'m not sorry for her; she ought to have minded him!’ Grace said. : : j ‘““A woman’s natural duty - is obedience; she ought to have known that it' 8 our; destiny z yield to, our superiots.’”” whined Miss Hamilton; and this, which seemed to Dora saperlative cant, had brought out her sharp exclamation. She herself was utterly undisciplined: a blind indulgence had set her adrift in life without an idea of duty, and she had yet to learn any law but her own will, or any restraint but her own - eaprices. Poor child! life is the ‘sternest of teachers, even with all t,x \Ere@gragion,'that can be made for itk ehcouhter, and a merciless pedagogue to the willful and ignorant. Mr. Horton was bewitched with Dora against his judgment;’ her fresh, piquant grace, her beauty, her very insurgent way of action and speech, captivated him; he knew with painfal .clearness that she was as unfit for a minister's wife a 8 a woman could be, but he knew also that without her his

life would lose its savor, and become routine of the dullest order, perhaps misery, though conscience warned him not to be so weak as this, while his work remained yet to be done. The next day there was tobe that re-. sort of country boarders in lack of all other amusement, a picnic to Glen Falis, a wild raviue in the heart of the hills through which a rapid brook tore its way, plunging from one precipice to another, at no one spot to be seen in full beauty, but reserving its. coy surprises for those who had skill and strength to climb upward to its source —a clear mountain pond that slept amid dark woods, fed by hidden springs. The day was warm, yet fresh with the wonderful freshness of moun‘tain air; and when the long wagon of ‘Saltash House arrived at the foot of the ravine, all the younger members of the party were unanimous in their resolve to climb to Clear Pond, while the older ladies, and one white-haired bachelor who cared little for scenery and much for his ease, remained quietly on a broad rock by the lower pool, where thick pine boughs sheltered them from the sun, and the ‘cool odor of dripfling water seemed to disperse whatever heat the July weather threatened. Two couples had already gone upward, wher Dora and Grace, attended by Mr. Horton. and Ned Schenck, a cousin of Dora’s, began the climb. Both gentlemen had been sufliciently accustomed to forest paths to make the matter easy as far as they were concerned, but to feet used only to the pave of the city or the smooth turf of the croquet ground, this rough yet slippery ascent looked fearful enough; nor were delicate kid boots the best preparation for sharp rocks and moss strewn with pine needles.’ It seemed all but impossible for Dora to attempt such a task, but her pride forbade retreat, while Grace in despair suffered herself to be half carried up the steepest pitches by Ned Schenck, and lifted bodily over stones and logs that she decla,redy herself altogether unable to surmount. Fortunately for 'her protector, she was slight, and not tall; he could easily S})are all the strength necessary. But Dora would not allow herself to be more than guided, though the guidance was peremptory. ¢ ““Put your foot here, Miss Schenck; now the other on that stone. Give me your left hand, and take firm hold: of that bough to the right.”” ; : Dora obeyed with the most child-like contidence, for the abyss below her and the hei%lht above were alike terrible; but she had that best of courage which: will not. turn back, though trembling with terror. . ;

- Grace, from below, a helpless burden, saw with a sort of pique how well Dora endured the msarch, and caught Mr. Horton’s ;admiring glances at the lithe figure that was at once so brave and so docile. To tell the truth, Grace had intended the handsome young clergyman should be her own escort, and was not at all satisfied at being relegated to Ned Schenck’s care, who was strong and good-tempered, no doubt, z)vut,:neither-good-looking nor rich. It as not from pure desire to tease that Grace ‘called out, in her soft, drawling tones: *‘Doll, yoy are really a miracle. I never expected to sce you ‘mind a man’ 'so implicitly.” Dora was indignant. She knew very: well that Grace could be spiteful; but the spite did not' hurt her as much as the answering consciousness - that, in spite of her fine theories, she had been | most implicitly submissive to Mr. Horton’s escort. The girlish silly pride ‘that was her great fault rose in arms; she did not answer Grace, but, with a resolute look on her flushed face, sprang onward after her own fashion, stumbling and clinging as well as she could, every moment expecting Mr. Horton to advise or remonstrate, but bent on heeding his voice no more. She expected in vain. Hewsaid nothing, and the. smile on his face would not have pleased her; he only followed fast behind her till they came to a little grassy platform at the bend of the stream, where the rocks retreated and the trees had been swept away directly in front of the last and highest fall, which descended here at right angles with the rest of the stream, behind a cliff that hid it entirely from the lower pool. . 7 ~ Grace had stopped far below; she 'was heated and tired, and angry, too. 'Ned Schenck did not mind her petulance, for he did not care for her; so he sat down on the pther end of the log where she had seated herself, and profaned the delicate forest odors with a cigar. Dora stopped a moment to take breath and admire the beautiful fall before them, which dashed its white water down the sheer black rock, and sprinkled with bright dew the luxuril ant ferus and, vines that fringed the bank on either side. Then she turned to follow the very 'slight indication of a path upward. ' Mr. Horton was ready ta follow; but the moment she sct her: foot on the rock which was her first step. and extended her hand to 'l'grasp a ledge above, which must be climbed, ‘he cried out, in a loud, imperative voice, *‘Dora, stop!"” The voice was so decisive, 0 powerful, so full of that command which is the counterpart of obedience, that without a thought of rebellion Dora stood like a statue. In an instant Mr. Horton put his arm about her, swung her back, and began to strike rapidly and fiercely at something on the crest of .the ledge; and in another minute he lifted a dead rattlesnake on his cane ‘and flung it far into the stream. Dora turned sick, and sat down on a. stone, shuddering and pale. Mr. Hortononly said, *¢‘Excuse me, Miss Schenck; the danger was too near for me to be less imperative.” - ‘ - -Dora shivered. “‘lf you had not, 1 should be dead now.”’ , :

“Not at_all,”” laughed Mr. Horton, | «I know these woods too weli to be ever without the groper alleviations for. a snake-bite, but I never yet used them," though I have met and killed a good ‘many. Rattlesnakes are dull creatures unless they coil to spring, and one blow with a heavy stick will kill them. Very few people die of their bites. I have only heard of one case in these regions, ’andy that was a c¢hild who had strayed alone into'the woods.”” . : A ~_He purposely lengthened his explanation, that Dora might calm herself; he did not know how it was sfillhthifobbing through- her heart that he had

called her ‘“ Dora.”” Her natively generous instinct demanded some thanks at least to be paid, but she could not speak yet; she was shyly glad, yet angry with herself for being glad; and trembling so with the sudden nervous shock, she could not for some minutes speak again. Mr. Horton stepped down to the water’s edge, and scemed absorbed in lookinE at the fall, but his heart beat as wildly as hers; in that moment of danger he had discovered what deep hold Dora had taken of his life; he did not think of her unfitness to be his wife, of her scorn, her wild impulses, her quick temper. Like many another man in his case, he thought onl{y of her beauty and sweetness, and felt that she must love him, or he would be miserable. Blessed ordination of things! If men or women chose their mates as they do their shoes or their books, with deliberation. and cool judgment, this dear, delightful, naughty old world would come/to a sudden end; it is the wisdom of Providence that they never o ' ’ : : It seemed an hour to both of these astonished people, yet was barely five minutes, before Dora looked up at Mr. Horton und said, ‘I don’t know how to thank you. I can acknowledge now it is good to mind a man —sometimes.”’ There was a soft arch look in the beautiful dark eyes that contradicted the quivering lips; but the lovely blushinf; fade told what Dora never meant to tell. Mr. Horton knelt down on the grass beside her.

*Oh, Dora, I would not be a tyrant,” he said; and Dora drooped her head so low it rested on his shoulder. Mrs. Horton always declared her husband never asked her to marry him, which he indignantly denied as often as she asserted it; but however the union came about, it was true—for everybody said so—that no gentler, sweeter, happier minister’s wife ever filled that gifiicult position in the City of Ludlow, where Mr. Horton was settled; even Grace Hamilton could not find fault with this match, though she had predicted all sorts of sorrows from its ‘‘radical unfitness.”” But time had not softened Grace’s native spite, though she controlled it during her brief visit at the parsonage. On the next Christmas morning -a package came by express, directed to Mrs. Horton; on the inner cover of the thin box ‘was written, ‘“For Doll’s room;’’ and as the last fold of tissue-paper was lifted, an elaborately illuminated motto appengred: 0 o ' | ' “ Come when you're called, i : Do as you re bid, . Shut the door after you,, And you’ll never be chid.” Her busband was looking over Dora’s shoulder, and they both laughed. Grace's arrow was pointless for such trust and happiness. : ' “I’ve only changed my mind,” said Dora, ¢‘‘and that is every woman’s privilege.” ‘ . ‘“And 1 have only: abdicated, and that any King may do,” retorted her husband. < L *Have you?”’ said his wife, incredulously. - : L The truth was that neither knew how to differ from the other with comfert. —Harper's Bazar.

Discovery of a Remarkable Cave. A RECENT dispatch to the St.: Paul (Minn.) Pioneer-Press announces the discovery of a remarkable cave on the farm of David Samuels, ten miles from La Crosse. The cave is thirty feet long, thirteen feet wide and about eight feet high. Above the quarry-sand, which has evidently drifted in and covered the floor to the depth of three to six feet, upon the walls are very rude carvings representing men, animals, arms and implements, and some appear to be hieroglyphics. One picture represents men, with' -bows and arrows, shooting animals, three buftaloes and one rabbit. Another represents three animals, which, if large, must have been like the hippopotamus; another appears to represent a mastodon; on another picture a moose is quite plainly delineated. There are eight representations that are canoes, much' carved, or hammocks, which they more resem‘ble. One sketch of a man is very plain; the figure wears a kind of chaplet or crown, and he was probably Chief of his tribe or clan. There are many fragments of pictures, where the rock had decomposed. Therock is a coarse, soft, white sandstone. On one side of the cave isa space about two feet high and two and a half inlength, made into the wall. - Above are the upper fragments of pictures, and below: are lower fragments, showing that they were made when the rock was entire. From the depth to which decompositions reached in this dry and dark cavern, the inscription must be quite ancient. If the carving mentioned really represents the mastodon, the work must have been done by mound-builders. ‘The accumulated sand needs to be removed to get a full view, and possi‘blgr human remains may be found. 'The entrance to the cave had evidently beéen covered by a land-slide, there being left open only a small hole, where traps have long been set for coons. The large number of these animals that were caught led to the belief that the space inhabited by them must be lurge, and investigation led to the discovery of the cave. Over the entrance, since the land-slide, a poplar tree, eighteen inches in diameter, has grown, which shows conclusively that the cave has not been occupied by human beings for Ihore than a century. - b & % bt s - B bttt ¥

How a Young Girl Attempted the Life of Her Benefactor. ‘ THE novelist who should tel how a little mulatto. girl of eéight years, born in the West Indies and adopted by the New Yeork family in whose service her father had once been, tried to kill her benefactors in order to get their "property, would be deemed guilty of the wildest : extmva%agxce, yet such is the strange record of a c¢ase that has just come {0 lgght in" the metropolis. The famiblfy of Mlle. de Wailly, a teacher in the Normal School, once owned great estates in the West Indies, and when misfortunes overtook them they still retained in their employ a young mulatto, who had been a most faithful slave. But at last he wanted to return to his old home; where he married; and

died after the birth of a little" girl named Dora. The de Waillys decided to adopt the child, and haye found her a .very amiable little girl. Several years afterward they heard again from Dora’s mother, who importuned them to ado(i)t another child, which she deseribed as a most attractive girl. The de Waillys refused for a while; but at last yielded. When they went to greet the new-comer, however, they found her a very different sort of a person, both in appearance and character, from what they had been told to expect. Eugeniec was a puny and somewhat deformed girl, bright but sullen, and cursed with a most unfavorable mania for destroying everything that she admired. But the de Waillys were good-natured and long-suftering, and they still kept the little vixen in their family, despite her passion for tearing table-covers, cutting -the carpets, smashing the vases, and otherwiseruining everything pretty which she could lay her hands on. A few weeks ago the members of the family began to suffer’at night from strange sensations of the heag, and a peculiar choking in the throat, which was once so serious in Mlle. de Wailly’s case that she had to stay out of school several - days. At last one night she awoke to find Eugenie coiled over ‘her, with her fingers squeezing her windpipe and diligently engaged in blowing into her mouth. Upon being questioned the imp finally confessed that she was trying to kill Mlle. de Wailly, and that it hael long been her intention to murder the whole family, as well as - her sister Dora, in order that she might come into possession or their property. She says that her mother instructed her to carry out this novel scheme of murder and robbery, and the only regret she manifests is that she did not use & carving-knife instead of trying to suck her victims’ breath. The wouldbe murderess is to be taken to an Orphan Asylum. :

- FACTS AND FIGURES. : SINCE the war 200,000 negroes have joined the Methodist Church. WATER, when it becomes steam. is expanded 1,700 times its original bulk.: THERE are nearly 1,500 inhabitants less in Fall 'River, Mass., this year than there were last. - IN Australia rabbits are being exterminated with bisulphide of carbon, of which the Government has established a factory. ; THE longest pine root on record has recently been dug up on a plantation & few miles from Savannah, Ga. It was 102 feet long. : i : RETURNSfor four months, to May 1, 1879, show a falling off of the silver product of the Nevada and California mines to the extent of ten millions below 1878. e : HARTFORD has just had a grand jury whose average height was six feet one and one-eighth inches, and average weight was 195 pounds. The tallest was six feet four inches. THE Post-Office Department at Washington is testing a new cancelingstamp. The canceling agent is heat. The stamp is heated by 2 tiny gas-jet within the handle. The impression made i 8 very distinct and cannot he removed. <

PorrsmouTH, Eng., has the lowest death rate of twenty-tree of the largest cities of the Kingdom, nineteen per 1,000, and Syracuse the lowest of twenty-three American cities, of size similar to the English cities selected as examples. The Syracuse death rate is 13.60 per 1,000. The minimum death rate is eleven per 1,000. : , MR, CARROLL D. WRIGHT, of the Massachusetts Bureau of Statistics, is compiling the facts regarding crimesin that State, in order to answer the question whether crime is increasing. He says that the assertiors of the public speakers for the last twenty years are the result of guesswork, and the compilation will deal with the subject exhaustively, and gettle the question beyond dispute. : At a late meeting of the Juridical Society in St. Petersburg the chieftopic of discussion was the banishment of criminals to Siberia. From official data it was proven that from 14,000 to 18,000 poor wretches are annually drafted off into the northeastern part.of the empire, and that in many districts, therefore, the number of conyvicted exiles far éxceeds that of the ordinary population, and is a great drawback on the welfare of the latter.

Carr. Eaps, of jetty fame, says: < It is idle to spend $150,000,000 in digging a canal through the isthmus when by spending one-third as much along the line of the present Panama Railroad it will be perfectly easy to take ships and their cargoes bodily over the isthmus.” His plan would be simply to dig a ship canal with locks alongside therailroad. He believes it to be practicable; and, as compared with the plan lately recommended at the Isthmus Canal Conferenfe, on the other side, very ecounomical. : - BULGARIA has no reason to complain of Russian financial management. A reserve of $2,400,000 has been formed since the Province has been occupied. This is available for public works, the necessity of which is greatly- felt, among them being the construction of a harbor at Varna, the improvement of Rustchuk harbor, and, the formation of connecting railway lines. The revenue of the Principality is estimated at $4,510,000, and for thecurrent year theve is an estimated surplus of revenue over expenditure of $300,000. ‘o :

—When a man tells you with a knowing wink that he has something to say in your private ear, you may be sure that it is a bit of unworthy gossip which - will do neither of you any good. Refuse to listen to him, and put your objection on high mioral and patriotic %round. ~ You can say that it is a breach of the law of Moses and of the law of the State to go privateering. N. Y. Herald.

—A young man may do a great many foolish things, says the i’_or:istown Herald, but he will never wear a pair of white pantaloons to a picnic but once. He will never forget the large amount of fun he didn't have on tge first occasion, , ‘ :

Youths’ Department : . TOU MITILE. . * JorxNY and May and Dicky and Bell Were going down to the Daisy Dell; . 1 know yon're going. know very well; Take me, too!” said dear little Nell. . **Too much bother!" says lazy John. - May:. ** Who wants you tagging aloi_xi,?". ** Too little!” said Bell. **Course!” said Dick; ** Hurry, now, Nellie, and grow up quick.” e Two sweet lips to quivering fell; 5 ** Too little for what?” said dear little Nell. **"Too little!"” cried mother, ** tov little to bear Our portion in life—a burden of care. : “ Too little a heart for trouble to weigh, Too little for tears » moment to stay: Of wrongs and rebuffs too little to know; ‘ From mother’s own side to little to go. * ** Let Johnny and May and Dicky and Bell Go frolicking down to the Daisy Dell: But mother and Nell and pussy-cat-mew Will have the merriest picnic, t0o.” _ The quivering broke in showers of smiles When mother went on to tell of the piles Of strawberry-cakes. and candies, too, With bread and milk for pussy-cat-mew. | $ s i , The four round faces visibly fell— 3 Looked sober enough at mother and Neli; She nestled and said, * I'd much rather stay; 1 ain’ too little for ¥uu, anyway.” - ; —Clara G. Dolliver, in Youth’s Companion.

THE TERMITES, OR WHITE ANTS. IT would seem that the whole animal kingdom had nothin%lmore mysterious or wonderful than the habits, intelligence and domestic life of our common red ant and the bee, and that it would be almost impossible that they could be surpassed; but when we consider the enormous buildings erected by the white ants of South America and Africa, their industry and ingenuity seem greatly to outdo that of our own little insects—and they are certainly much more skilled in architecture. Just think of it! While the Pyramid of Egypt is only four hundred and thirty-eight feet high, about eighty times the height of a man, the nests of these ants are one thousand times the height of the little creature that constructs them, and so firmly and solidly built that even wild animals like the buffalo are able to mount them and use them as places of lookout. These buildings are made of particles of wood joined together by a gummy, substance, and will resist the force of the severest storms. - S

Can man accomplish more than this? Even in his ability to lift, the ordinary strength of a man is estimated at less than three hundred pounds, while the weight carried by the termites is wondertul indeed.” You know all insects of this class are furnished with instruments peculiarly adapted for building and lifting, while man has to invent for himself, contrive, and rely very much, too, upon the experience of others. : It is not alone in the building of their dwellings that the white ants employ their skill. They hayve a very great objection to eating in open daylight, and to avoid this they worlé their way speedily through the bark of a tree, or a beam, or door, there forming galleries of clay, in which they conceal themselves, and devour their food in safety. ; : Some white ants are miners, for you see that we have the trades represented in the insects as well as in the birds. They go under the ground, penetrating beneath the foundation of houses and coming up again through the floors or the bottom of posts that may be the means of support to the building, making their way to the very top. Many of these little creatures passup through the roof, forming pipes or galleries on their way of wet clay, in which they make their homes. They prefer soft wood like the pine, which they hollow out with great care, leaving the surfaceé whole, after eating out the inside, and however solid a piece of furniture may seem to the ege, if it were weighed it would be found to be lighter than even pieces of pasteboard of the same size. :

It is a wonderful instinct that teaches these little creatures to preveng‘ the fall of the roof of a house where’they have hollowed the posts on which it rests. Can,_you believe that they fill them up with clay so prepared that it becgmes very hard, ‘and in many instances, when the house is pulled down, these pusts that were mere shells are found to be like stone, they are so solid! They make the walls of their galleries of this . same composition | when they build their houses. ; These ants are wonderfully destructive for such insignificant creatures. Even during a few months of the year they have been known to completely ruin a large house by destroying its beams and planks. : And now let me tell you how the termites form theirdwellings. Every one of these consists of two distinet parts. The outer part is built in the shape of a dome and like one huge shell, large and strong enough to enclose the inner one from all storms or any enemies that may wish to annoy them. The inner building, where the ants live, is divided with wonderful regularity into a very large number of apartments, which are used as nurseriesor as storehouses for provisions. They commence by raising a little hillock in the shape of a sugar-loaf, perhaps a foot high, and while that is being made larger they raise others, and so go on adding to the number, making them wider at the bottom, until the ground is perfectly covered with these turrets, as you might call them. The middle one is always larger than the rest. Then they fill up the spaces between and collect them into one dome. When this is completed they take away all the middle scaffolding, except the tops, which, when joined t(?lgether,' form the base of the cupola. The, clay is then made and used for the building, which, as you have been told, hardens, rendering it very secure. iy - The royal apartment, set apart for the King and the Queen, seems to be of the greatest importance. It is always laced in the center of the building. }l)‘his is surrounded by a large number of cells of various sizes and dimensions, opening into each other by wide pass‘ages for the soldiers and waiters, of L’:vfichjthere are always a great many in atvendance: next to thase come the ‘nurseries and storehouses. The nurs?fies_ are very close together and built ’vo‘ wood, joined \y}fli a sort of gum. As their vomgany‘ ncreases they J"fin ‘down, build over, enlarging anl adding for,the new-comers, ‘sb‘psvinfi-' a wonderful amount of sagacity in all this, '

The storetpoms are always well flled with provisions, which to the naked eye look more like fragments of wood than anything else, but by the -microscope are found to be various kinds of gum or prepared pieces of plants! Theyare so built as tobe thoroughly waterproof; or even if the rain should come in, there are leaders to take it off into the ground! Then there are galleries all over the building, some leading downward where they make theirclay of the finer gravel, which they knead with their mouths. These: galleries 'are made wide, to accommodate the laborers and soldiers, who are constantly on the march for wood, water and provisions!—and they are admirably calculated for the purpose. How hard it is to believe that one of the smallest insects should have such wonderful ability to accomplishso much! = = = There is a species of the white ant rather smaller than the one just described, which builds a nest in shape precisely like the mushroom. It basa sort of tower over all, the interior} being filled with cells of very irregular shape. KEach shell has at least two entrances; but there -are no gallerigs, arches or nurseries in these. =~ ‘ Another builds upon the outside of trees, sometimes as high as eighty feet from the ground. ' They are of a spherical shape, which my young friends know to be round. . They are put together in pretty much the same way—small particles of wood kneaded into a kind of paste with a gluey substance, and are in this instance so strong as to require a knife to detach them from the trees. : : e ! _-How wonderful this all seems, and is it not a striking demonstration of His power whose Ifapd formed them and who shows fo us the great wisdom of the Workman, even in that which is of little size.—-N. Y. Observer. . = ;

- A Shocking Scene, THE funeral of Mrs. Hull, the woman . who was recently so mysteriously murdered in New York, was a chapter of accidents. When the coffin was placed over the grave, preparatory to the recital of the burial serwvice, the earth at the head of the grave gave way. The N. Y. Herald says: ¢ gne of the crossbars fell and the end of the box dropped to the bottom of the grave. The bar under the head of the coffin slipped and the'coffin itself ras thrown with a dull crash down into the grave.y It lay for .a moment at an’ahgle of about forty-five degrees, the foot still supported by the crossbars and the head on the fallen box below. Mr. Mollison and Mr. Field had fallen partly under the coffin- and partly into the grave. A small monument . over the grave of one of Mrs. Hull’s nephews was upset by the starting back of one of the pall-bearers. A shudder of irrepressible horror passed over the entire eompany. For an instant every one was paralyzed. - Several of the women wept and turned away their faces. Dr. Hull stood as if rooted to the ground. . He moaned and wailed with awful grief. The tears rolled from his eyes, ! and, as he ‘wept, he repeated again and -again, <Oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear!’ Apparently he could not. stir, and he stood absolutely still while the coffin - was lifted up by a dozen quick hands and placed on a grave near by. It was slightly broken, though it retained its : shape and held together. The seams at the head had sprung apart about & quarter of an inch, and the lid over the- - was partly displaced, though fortunately not enough to disclose a view of the rudely-shaken .corpse. It was replaced at once, and preparations were again made for lowering the coffin to 'its last resting-place. Unfortunately this could not be readily done. If suitable pieces of timber had been at hand a trestlework could have been easily made, even with the edges of the grave displaced. But no such timber was there. -Excepting the four stout crossbars, all that was available was a lot of worm-eaten, decayed plank. This was broken into half a dozen pieces, and one laid upon another to form an . edge for the support of the bars, after at least twenty minutes of confused . work and much talk by a dozen men, Even the support seemed frail, and many thought the body, thus | pursued by a seemingly relentless fate, would again fall. - The mourners stood for these twenty minutes in the full - glare of the .afternoon sun, unwilling witnesses of the unseemly occurrence, and when at length the lowering was actually accomplished, there was a general gigh of relief.”” , ; A Showman’s Story. : ¢« YANKEE’ HiLL, a famous actor in the first half of the present cen¥ary, - used to tell an, amusing story (which J. B. Matthews retells in his article on ““The American ‘Sta.ge,” in Scribner’s - for July)of the early days of the theater in this country. Hill once ¢ showed”— to use a professional phrase—in atown in the western part of New York, where no theatrical performance had ever been given. He found the apdience assembled, with the women seated on one side’ of the hall, the men on the other, exactly as they were used to sit in church; and throughout the play the most solemn = silence was observed. They were attentive, but they Fav_e no evidence of approval or di‘sF easure; there was no applause, no . %h_ter; : there was not even a smile; all was solemn stillness. Hill did his utmost to break the. ice; he did everything a clever comedian could do, but in vain. He flung himself against their rigidity; it'was no use. The audience was evidently on its ;,Pest _behavior, and . the ‘curtain came'down 'at last amid a ‘silence oppressive and almost melancholy. After the play, Hill, worn out i by his extra ‘exertion and mortified at ‘his want .of success, was passing t_hrouih,a.f public room of his ..hbtltf A when he was stopped by a tall countryman With therpmark: e sk i ““Say, mister, I was in to the play ° o bzre.you'?’t’l said wflfll- eéfgummt , ave been greatly entertained.” = “well, Lwasl I fell you whatitis inéz‘,\ my mouth is ;flfl;gm tfififlng to keep my face straight. And if it hfézt"been for "the women, I'd & laughed right out in meetin’.” < _Outr of 1,015 conviets in the Texas Penitentiary, 915 cannot read or write. . R S Linas San R N R e