Rensselaer Republican, Volume 22, Number 19, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 January 1890 — Page 2

ALLAN QUATERMAIN.

A Record of Remarkable Adventures and Discoveries.

BY H. RIDER HAGGARD.

CHAPTER IX.— Continued. After leaving the Mission-house we made our way. comparatively unmolested. past the base of Mount Kenia, which the Masai call “Donyo Egere.” or the “Speckled Mountain," on account of the black patches of rock that appear upon its mighty spire, where the sides are too precipitous to ajlow of the snow lying on them: then on past the lonely lake Baritfgo, where one of our two remainihg Askari, having unfortunately trodden upon a puff-adder, died of snake-bite, in spite of all our efforts to save him. Thench we proceeded a distance of about a hundred and fifty miles to another magnificent, snow-clad mountain called Kekakisera. which had never, to the best of my belief, been visited before . by a European, but which 1 can not now stop to describe. There we rested a fortnight, and then started out into the trackless and uninhabited forest of a vast district calledEtgremT' In this forest dione th.ere are more elephants than I ever met with or heard of before. The mighty maniA mals literally swarm there entirely unmolested by man. and only kept down by the natural law that prevents any animals from increasing beyond the capacity of the country they inhabit to support them. Needless to s,y, however, we did not shoot many of them, first, because wo could not afford to waste ammunition, of which our stock was getting perilously low;--donkey loaded with it having been swept away in fording a flooded river - and secondly, because we could not carry away the ivory, and did not wish to kill for the mere sake of slaughter. So we let the great brutes be, only shooting onbOr two in self-protection. In this district the elephants, being unacquainted with the hunter and his tender mercies, would allow’ one to walk up to within twenty yards of them in the open, while they stood, with their great ears cocked for all the world like puzzled and gigantic puppy-dogs, and stared at that new and extraordinary phenomenon—man. Occasionally, when the inspection did not prove satisfactory, the staring ended in a trumpet and a charge, but this did net often happen. When it did we had to use our rifles. Nor were elephants the only w’ild beasts in the great Elgumi forest. All sorts of large game abounded, including lions —confound them! I have always hated the sight of a lion since one bit my leg and lamed me for life. As a consequence. another thing that abounded wa§ the dreaded tsetse fly, whose bite is death to domestic animals. Donkeys have, together with men, hitherto been supposed to enjoy a peculiar iinmunity from its attacks; but all I have to say, whether it was on account of their poor condition or because the tsetse in those parts is more poisonous than usual, I do not know, but ours succumbed to its onslaught. Fortunately, however, that

was not till two months or sb after the bites had been inflicted, when suddenly, after a two days’ cold rain, they all died, and on removing the skins of several of them I found the long yellow streaks upon the flesh which are characteristic of death from bites from the tsetsp, marking the spot where the insect hall inserted'kis proboscis. On emerging from the great Elgumi forest we, still steering northward, in accordance with the information Mr. Mackenzie had collected from the unfortunate wanderer who reached him only to die so tragically, struck the base in due course of the large lake, called Laga by the natives, which is about fifty miles long by twenty broad, and of which, it mqy be remembered, he made mention. Thence we pushed on nearly a month's journey over great, rolling uplands, something like those in the Transvaal, but diversified by .patches of bush country. All this time we were continually ascending at the rate of about oner hundred feet every ten miles. Indeed, the country was on a slope which appeared to terminate at a mass of snowtipped mountains, for which we were steering, and whpre we learned the second lake of which the wanderer had spoken as the lake without a botton was situated. At length we arrived there, and ascertaining that there was a large lake on the top of the mountains, ascended three thousand feet more till we came to a precipitous cliff or edge, to find a great sheet of water some twenty miles square lying fifteen hundred feet below us, and evidently occupying an extinct volcanic Greater or craters of vast extent. Perceiving villages on the border of this lake, we descended with great difficulty through forests of pine-trees, which now clothed the precipitous sides of the crater, and were well received by the people, simple, unwarlike folk, who had never seen or even heard of a white man before, and treated us with great reverence and kindness, supplying us with as much food and milk as we could eat and-drink. This wonderful and beautiful lake lay, according to our aneroid, at a height of no less than eleven thousand four hundred and fifty feet above sea level, and Its climate was cold, and not at all unlike that of England. Indeed, for the first three days <if our stay there we £aw little or nothing of the scenery on •on account of an unmistakable Scotch mist which prevailed. It was this rain that set the tsetse poison working in our remaining donkeys, so that they nil died. Tnis disaster left us in a very awkward position, as we had now no means of transport whatever, though, on the other hand, wo had not much, to carry. Ammunition, too, was very short.

amounting to but one hundred and fifty rounds of rifle cartridges and some fifty shot-gun catridges. How to get on we did not know; indeed, it seemed to us that we had about reached the end of our tether. Even if we had been inclined to abandon the objectof our search, which, shadowy as it was, was by no means the ease, it was ridiculous to think of forcing dur way back some seven hundred miles to the coast in our present plight; so we came to the conclusion that the only thing te be done Was to stop where we were —the natives being so well disposed and food plentiful—for the present, and abide events, and try to collect information as to the countries beyond. Accordingly, having purchased a capital log canoe, large enough to hold us all and our baggage, from the headman of the village were staying in, presenting him with three empty, 'cold drawn brass cartidges by way of payment, w’ith which he was perfectly delighted, we set out to make a tour of the lake in order to find the most fiFvorable pla-ce to makea camp: As we did not know if we should return to this village, we put all our gear into the canoe, and also a quarter of cooked water-buck, which when young is delicious eating, and off we set, natives ha ving already gone .hefmai...ns.in-light-eanoes to warn the inhabitants of the other villages of our approach. As we were paddling leisurely along (food remarked upon the extraordinary deep blue color of the water, and said that he understood from the natives, who were great fishermen—fish, in deed, being their principal food —that the lake was supposed to be wonderfully deep, and to have a hole at the bottom through which the water escaped and put out some great fire that was raging below. I pointed out to him that what he had heard was probably a legend arising from a tradition among 1 the people which dated back to the time when one of the extinct parasitic volcanic cones was in activity. We saw several round the borders of the lake which had no doubt been working at a period long subsequent to the volcanic death of the central crater which now formed the bed of the lake itself. When it became finally extinct'the people would imagine that the water from the lake had run down and put out the big fire below, more especially as. though it was constantly fed by streams running from the snow-tipped peaks about, there was no visible exit to it.

The further shore of the lake we found, on approaching it, to consist of avast perpendicular wall of rocks, which held the water without any intermediate sloping bank, as elsewhere. Accordingly, we paddled parallel with this precipice, at a distance of about a hundred paces from it. shaping our course for the end of the lake, where we knew that there was a large village. As we went we began to pass a considerable accumulation of floating rushes, weeds, boughs of trees and other rubbish, brought, Good supposed, to this spot by some current, which he was much puzz'ed to account for. While we were speculating about this, Sir Henry pointed out a flock of large white swans, which were feeding on the drift some little way ahead of us. Now I had already noticed swans flying about this lake, and havig never come across them before in Africa, was exceedingly anxious to obtain a specimen. I had questioned the natives about them, and learned that they came from over the mountain, always arriving at certain periods of the year in the early morning, when it was very easy to catch them, on account of their exhausted condition. I also asked them what country they camei from, when they shrugged their shoulders and said that on the top of the great black precipice was stony, inhospitable land, and beyond that were mountains with snow, and full of wild beasts, where no people lived, and beyond the mountains were hundreds of miles of dense thorn forest, so thick t'iat even the elephants could not get t hrough it, much less men. Next I asked them if they had ever of white people like ourselves living on the further side of the mountrairvs, and the thorn forest, whereat they laughed; but afterward a very old woman came and told me that when she was a little girl her grandfather had told her that in his youth his grandfather had crossed the desert and the mountains, and pierced the thorn forest, and seen a white people who lived in stone kraals beyond. Of course, as this took the tale back some two hundred and fifty years, the information was very indefinite; but still there it was again, and on thinking it over I grew firmly convinced that then® was some truth in all these rumors, and equally firmly determined to solve the mystery. Little did I guess in what an almost miraculous way my desire was to be gratified.

Well, we set to work to stalk the swans, which kept drawing, as they fed, nearer and nearer to the precipice, and at last we pushed the canoe under shelter of a patch of drift within forty yards of them. Sir Henry had the shot-gun, loaded with No. 1, and, waiting for a chance, got two in a line, and, firing at their necks, killed them both. - Up rose the rest, thirty or more of them, with a mighty splashing; and, as they did so, he gave them the other barrel. Down came one fellow with a broken wing, and I saw the leg of another drop and a few feathers start out of his back; but he went on quite strong. Up went the swans, circling ever higher till at last they were mere specks level with the top of the frowning precipice, when I saw them form into a triangle and head off for the unknown northeast. Meanwhile we had picked up our two dead ones, and beautiful birds they were, weighing not less than about thirty pounds each, and were chasing the winged one. which had scrambled over a mass of drift-weed into a pool of clear water

beyond. Finding a difficulty in forcing the canoe through the rubbish, I told our only remaining Wakwafi servant, whom I knew to be an excellent swimmer, to jump over, dive under the drift, and catch him. knowing that as there were no crocodiles in this lake he could come to no harm. Entering into the fun of the thing, the man did so, and soon was dodging about after the winged swan in fine style, getting gradually nearer to the rock wall, against which the water washed as he did so. - . Suddenly he gave up swimming after the swan, and began to cry out that he was being carried away; and, indeed, we saw that, though he was swimming withall his strength toward us, he w-as being drawn slowly toward the precipice. With a few desperate' strokes of our paddles we pushed the canoe through the crust of the drift and rowed toward the man as hard as we could, but, fast as we went, ho was drawn faster toward the rock. Suddenly I saw that before us, just rising eighteen inches or so above the surface of the lake, was what looked like the top of the arch of a submerged cave or railway tunnel. Evidently, from the water mark on the rock several feet above it, it was generally enliiwly subme.ged: but there had been a dry season, and the cold had prevented the snow from melting as freely as usual; so the lake was low and the arch showed. Toward this arch our poor servant was being sucked with frightful rapidity. He w T as not more than twenty paces from it, and we were about thirty when I saw it, and with little help from us the canoe flew along after him. , He struggled bravely, and I thought that we should have saved him, when suddenly I perceived an expression of despair come upon his face, and there before our eyes he was sucked down into the cruel, swirling blue depths and vanished. At the same moment I felt our canoe seized as with a mighty hand, and propelled with resistless force toward the rock.

We realized our danger now and rowed, or rather paddled, furiously in our attempt to get out of the vortex. In vain; in another second we were flying straight for the arch like an arrow, and I thought that we were lost. Luckily I retained sufficient presence of mind to shout out, instantly setting the example by throwing myself into the bottom of the canoe, “Down on your faces—down!” and the pthers had the sense to take the hint. In another instant there was a grinding noise, and the boat was pushed down tilLthe water began to trickle over the sides, and I thought that we were gone. But no, suddenly the grinding ceased, and we could again feel the canoe flying along. I turned my head a little—l dared not lift it—and looked up. By the feeble light that yet reached the canoe, I could make out that a dense arch of rock hung just over our heads, and that was all. In another minute I could not even make put as much as that, for the faint light had merged into shadow, and the shadows had been swallowed up in darkness, utter and complete.

Foran hour or so we lay there, not daring to lift our heads for fear lest the brains should be dashed out of them, and scarcely able to speak even, on account of the noise of the rushing water which drowned our voices. Not, indeed, that we had much inclination to speak, seeing that we were overwhelmed by the awfulness of our position and the imminent fear of instant death, either by being dashed against the sides of the cavern, or on a rock, or being sucked down in the raging waters, or perhaps asphyxiated by want of air. All of these and many other modes of death presented themselves to i&y imagination as I lay at the bottom of the canoe, listening to the swirl of The 'fiurrying waters which ran whither we knew not. One only other sound could I hear, and that was Alphonse’s intermittent howl of terror coming from the center of the canoe, and even that seemed faint and unreal. Indeed, the whole thing overpowered my brain, and I began to believe that I was the victim of some ghastly, spirit-shaking nightmare.

CHAPTER X. THE ROSE OF FIRE. On we flew, drawn by the mighty current, till at last I noticed that the sound of the water was not half so deafening as it had been, and concluded that this must be because there was more room for the echoes to disperse in. I could now hear Alphonse’s howls much more distinctly; they were made_up. of the oddest mixture of invocations to the Supreme Power and the name of his beloved Annette that it is possible to conceive; and,in short, though their evident earnestness saved them from profanity, were, to say the least, very remarkable. * Taking up a paddle I managed to drive into his ribs, whereon he, thinking that the end had come, howled lotider than ever. Then I slowly and cautiously raised myself on my knees and stretched my hand upward, but could touch no roof. Next I took the paddle and lifted it above my head as high as I could, but with the same result. I also thrusti it out laterally to the right and left, but could touch nothing but water. Then I bethought me that there was in the boat, among our other remaining possessions, a bull’s-eye lantern and a tin of oil. I groped about and found it, and having a match on me, carefully lit it, and as soon as the flame got hold of the wick I turned it on down the boat As it happened, the first thing the light lit on was the white and scared face of ♦Sir Henry afterward wrote down one of Alphonse's prayers as he overh ar-1 it. It ran thus - Oh. save me! Take m out of this hole! I will p ornise never logo exploring again! Oh. Annette. why did I l<-ave thee? Oh, m fals cousin! I Oh, deliver me from this horrible maid drain! 1 Never mind he others! Let thi m drown! t hey ar- more used to it than 1 »rn, nd they enn n t cook! Oh, Annette! Annette Lmcendol Annetta ifortiaslmojl”

Alphonee, who, thinking that it was all ovei' at last, and that he was witnessing a preliminary celestial phenomenon, gave a terrific yell and was with difficulty reassured with the paddle. As for the other three. Good was lying on the flat of his back, his eyeglass still fixed in his eye, and gazing blankly into the upper darkness. JStfc Henry had "his head resting on the th wartg of the canoe and with his Hand was trying to test speed of the water. But when the beam of light fell upon old Umslopogaas I could really have laughed. I think I have said that we had put a roast quarter of water-buck into the canoe. Well, it so happened that when we all prostrated ourselves to avoid bbing swept out of the boat and into the water, by the rock roof, Umslopogaas's head had come down uncommonly near this roast buck, and so soon as he had recovered a little from the first shock of out position it occurred to him that he was hungry. Thereupon he coolly cut off a chop with Inkosi-kaas. and was now employed in eating it with every appearance of satisfaction. As he afterward explained he thought that he was going “on a long journey” and preferred to start on a full I f reminded me of the people who are going to be hanged and who are gener ally reported in the English'' daily papers to have made “an excellent breakfast.” As soon as the others saw that I had managed to light up the lamp, we bundled Alphonse into the further end of the canoe with a threat which calmed him wonderfully, that if he would insist upon making the darkness hideous with his cries we would put him out Of the suspense by sending him to join the Wakwafi and wait for Annette in another sphere, and began to discuss the situation as well as we could. First, however, at Good’s suggestion, we bound two paddles mastfashion in the bows so that the mighty give us warning agair st any sudden lowering of the roof of the cave or water-way. It was clear to us that we were in an under-ground river, or, as Alphonse had defined it, “main drain,” which carried off the superfluous waters of the lake. Such rivers are well-known to exist in many parts of the world, but it has not often been the evil fortune of explorers to travel by them. That the river was wide we could clearly see, for the light from the bull’s-eye lantern failed -to reach from shore to shore, although occasionally, when the current swept us either to one side or the other, we could see the rock wall of the tunnel, which, as far as we could make out, appeared to arch about twenty-five feet above our heads. As for the current itself, it ran, Good estimated, at least eight knots, and, fortunately for us, was, as is usual, fiercest in the middle of the stream. Still, our first act was to arrange that one of us, with the lantern and a pole there was in the canoe, should always be in the bows ready, if possible, to prevent us from being stove in against the side of the cave or any projecting rock. Umslopogaas, having already dined, took the first turn. This was absolutely with one exception, all that we could do toward preserving our safety. The exception was that another of us took up a position in the stern with a paddle by means of which it was possible to more or less steer the canoe and to keep her from the sides of the cave. These matters attended to. we made a somewhat sparing meal off the cold buck's meat (for we did not know how long.it.might have to last us), and then feeling in rather better spirits I gave my opinion that, serious as it undoubtedly was, I did not consider our position altogether without hope, unless, indeed, the natives were right, and the river plunged straight down into the bowels of the earth. If not, it was clear that it must emerge some-. where, probably on the other side of the mountains, and in that case all we had to think of was to keep ourselves alive till we got there, wherever “there” migpt be. But, of.course, as Good lugubriously pointed out. on the other hand we might fall victims to a hundred unsuspected horrors —or the river might go winding away inside the earth till it dried up, in which cas our fate would indeed be an awful one. • “Well, let us hope for the best find prepare ourselves for the worst,” said Sir Henry, who is always cheerful and even spirited—a very tower of strength in the time of trouble. “We have come out of so many queer scrapes together that, somehow, I almost fancy We shall c<?me out of this,” he added. This was excellent advice, and we proceeded to take it each in our separate way—that is, except Alphonse, who haxl by now sunk into a sort of terrified stupor. Good was at the helm and Umslopogaas in the bows, so there was nothing left for Sir Henry and myself to do except to lie down in the canoe and think. It certainly was a curious, and indeed almost a weird, position to be placed in—rushing along, is we were, through the bowels of the earth, borne on the bosom of a sort of Stygian river, something after the fashion of souls being ferried by i Caarun, as Curtis sard. And howl dark it was! the feeble ray from our 1 little lamp did but serve to show the I darkness. There, in the bows sat old | Umslopogaas. like Pleasure in the poem,* watchful and untiring, the pole ready to hik hand, and behind in the shadow I could just make out the form of Good peering forward at the ray of light in' order to make out ho« 1 to steer with the paddle that held ana now and again dipped in the water. i I ♦Mr. Allan Quitterimin misquotes—P'.en.“irt 1 sat at the helm.— Editor. TuBaCoKTIXUED. Baltimore American: A piano is about the only thing that can be up ight and flat at the same time.

HIS SAW THE FUN.

How Wlokwfre Didn’t Perform a Simple Little Trick. To mak* an egg stand on end without breaking the shell, place a small looking glass level on the table, face upward ; take a fresh egg, shake it violently so that the white and. yolk mix, then place it upon the p <at and *.t will stand in equilibrium. This was a newspaper clipping young Wickwire read in an evening paper. A few days after that he was invited to a little private party ata friend’s, and Wickwire was always called upon to help entertain any crowd he might be in. That evening after the spirits of the party began to flag a little, Mr. Wickwire was called on to give a little exhibition of his parlor magic. After a suitable amount cf hesitancy he announced that he had an entirely new and novel trick that he was about to produce for the first time. At this everyone applauded, for they were ail heartily tired of the old tricks. “Will you please get me an egg and a small mirror?” «ked Mr. Wiekwiro of the hostess. “Certainly” was the reply. When Mie-hostess demanded an egg of the girl in the kitchen, she found that there ..was. not one about- the "house; so girl was sent over to the After one. Then he took the egg, held it up where all could see it, made r few mysterious passes and jumbles a*d began shaking it. After thought he held shaken it up eu. 'teh ba stood it on its point oh the mirror, bat for some mysterious reason the egg toppled over. Then his audience giggled and some one was rude enough to ask if that was his new trick and if he thought it all out himself. That made Wickwire a little hot, he said some one must have been shaking the table ; nevertheless, he thought best to take up the egg and ♦hake it again. Wickwire had about concluded that this egg must “be an abnormal monstrosity of some kind, but out of sheer desperation he grabbed it for another ♦hake. ‘ He has te shake it three times for tyck,” whispered some one audibly, and in the agony of despair, live a more desperate shake than ver. The final shako-settled it. The secret was out—and so was the . Verdone egg juice. The shaking up had generated enough gas, aided by Viekwire's hands, to. break the shell to smithereens. The fluid ran down .over Mr. WickTire’s person and over his full-bosom-ed shirt front in a way hat made him ook like a bilious Mikado. The agg also made its presence felt tn another way, that made ail the visitors we ry and want to go home without Hopping to t ike any refreshments. The majority of them did not start nto the gloaming to revel in the fresh %ir of the front yard, but they did get tut quick enough to see the neighbor’s imall boy go streaking over the fence !rotn his hiding place under the winlow. The small boy had merely loanid the servant girl the only ripe egg in- the house, and had. followed along After to see the fun. He saw it Peck’s Bun.

Facts About the Human Body.

The average number of teeth is Iwirty-two. I—- . The' I m ,n a;ioooda twteg~ that of any other animal. The weight of the circulating blood Is twenty-eight pounds. A man breathes about twenty times k minute and 1.200 in an hour. The average weight of an adult is one hundred and fifty pounds and six ounces. A man breathes about eighteen pints of air in a minute, or upward; of seven hogshr >ls in a day. Tne average weight of the brains of a man is three and one-haif pounds; of a woman two pounds and eleven ounces. --—~—■ Five hundred and forty pounds, or one hogshead and one and one-quar-ter pints, of blood pass through the heart in one hour. Tt.e heart sends nearly ten pounds of blood through the veins and arteries each he it, and makes four beats while we breathe once. One hundred and seventy-five million cells are in the lungs, which would cover a surface thivty times greater 'than the human body. The average height of an Englishman is five feet nine inches, of a Frenchman five leet four inches, of a Belgian live feet six and three-fourths of an inch.

An Electric Staur-Climber.

The large number of elevators in office buildings has made people accustomed to their use, and the wish has often been expressed that some arrangeihent might be devised by which elevators might be installed in private • houses. A solution of this problem is 1 the arrangement exhibited in Paris. I This stair-climber consists of three parts. The first of these is the guidei which c6nsists of two parallel flat iron rods supported on the balustrade; second a moveable platform, which is supportefl by the rails, and third, a motor. This motor is an electric one which acts directly upon a windlass, to which a chain is attached which pulls up the platform upon which the person 1 stands. Each of these little elevators. f rom story to story, is independent of .. he other, so that one person might be from one story to another while the other is decending. The motor can be made to turn backward or forward, or to stop at will, by ‘.he person on the platform.

An Oversight

“Henry!” he called to the grocery boy as ho looked up from his papers on the desk, ‘.‘did you make out this bill against Mrs. Dailey?” s “Yes, sir.” “I see you have left the ‘h’ out of sugar in charging her for five pounds, nils was no doubt an oversight on vour part, but you must be more i skreful in "isture. Mrs. Dailey is a I klckeress, »4<L she once stood me off for three muFths off a bill because 11 Udn’tpulf* w uKxrroU.”

A TALK WITH BOYS.

You Can’t Expect All of Them til Follow Their Fathers. I “I am a farmer’s son. I don’t lil® farm life. Please tell me what chan® there is in the city?” I Out of twenty letters received fro® farmers’ sons at least seventeen wi® read as above. One might argue fro® this that, there was general dissati® faction with the avocation, but such ■ not the case. A proportion of farmer® son’s have always left the farm w learn a trade or profession, and pe>l haps, the proportion to-day is na larger than it was twenty years ag<>| To argue that every boy born on ■ farm must become a farmer would bl as bad as to argue that every carpenJ ter's son must naturally learn hii father’s trade. A fair per cent of ouj famous men were born and reared tl country life, but it was not the® natural bent. ‘ The farmer who has ■ boy anxious to break away and le u-n I trade or study for a profession shoull encourag® that ambition, in days gon J by people argued that any sort of a man could make a farmer. If he hat! failed at everything else he was ad| vised and eneduraged to- try farming! Fn these days we liir know that ona must be adapted to his work—th® farmer as well as the machinist. Ona will do his best only in that whichi comes the most natural to him. I Nor is thereany danger that the agl ricultural districts will be deserted bji the young men because a hand is hold out to those whose natural bent lies ing some other direction. Statistics would] "doubtless show, if any such had even been gathered, that at lea?*, one boy out of every three born on a farm grows up to pursue that avocation for life. The ratio among lawyers, doc tors, journalists, machinists, carpenters, blacksmiths, etc., is no greater. The farmer who should be told that a certain carpenter, painter or wheelwright with four sons was determined that each one of them should learn hie trade would “Jl'-ale in contempt. And yertho average farmer thinks it a singular th.ng when one of his boys detest tertn-work and feels that life contains something better for him. While the boy of 15 may be inquiring: “What trade shall I learn, or what profession ah ill I pursue?” it is in most cases a settled thing with the boy of 18. He has discovered his forte and is making arrangements to pursue it No boy should permit circumstances to force into a trade against his wishes. If he is obliged to earn wages, it is much better that he do general work until the right sort of opening appears. No father has any right to dictate in this matter. He is apt to be guided by a selfish spirit. If his boy can earn $4 per week as apprentice to a machinist, he would decide on the former trade without reflecting as to the boy’s natural bent. After two or three years, when the lad has discovered that he was cut out for something else, he has lost valable time and much of his ambition. And, too, the father who notes the successes in the professions is quite apt to argue that what one does another can do, and therefore shapes his son’s career in that direction, no matter what the boy thinks about it. It ii this argument that fills.the land with shyster lawyers, half starved doctor! and sharpers who must beat their bill! to get ~along from ypnr rn you—-Tfir* number of men who earn anything tmore than a bare living in any profusion is surprisingly small.

Light in the Sickroom.

The custom prevails, despite all our sanitary teachings, that the occupant of the sickroom in the private house should bo kept all hours in a darkened room. Not one time in ten do we enter a sickroom in the daytime to find it blessed with the light of the sun, says the Scientific American. Almost invariably, before we pan get a look at the face of a patient, we are obliged to request that the blinds may be drawn up, in order that the rays of a much greater healer than the most able physician can ever hope to be may be admitted. Too often the eomplian ce with this request reveals the condition of a room, which in a state of darkness, is almost inevitably one of disorder everywhere; foods, medicine,, furniture, bedding misplaced, diist and stray leavings in all directions. In brief, there is nothing so bad as a dark sickroom; it is as if the attendants were anticipating the death of the patient; and, if the reason for it be asked the answer is as inconsistent as the act. The reason usually offered is that the patient cannot bear the light; as though the light could not be cut off from the patient by a curtain or screen, and as though to darken one part of the room it was necessary to darken the whole" of it. The real reason is an 61d superstitious practice, which once prevailed so intensely that the sick, suffering from the most terrible diseases, smallpox, for instance, were shut up in darkness, their beds surrounded with red curtains, during the whole of theii illness. ffr ■ T T ■ - -

A Modern Invention.

Mrs. Kawlor—Why, how exquisitely your parlor is furnished, dear. I think those plush chairs are too sweet for anything. But what Is that great homely hard wood chair? It is awfully ugly. Mrs. Stay athome—Why. dear, that ii my mouse chair. Dear Arthur oomplained that every time I jumped on one of the nice chairs at seeing-a mouse, 1 spoiled it. So I had him get me thU one. O—o—o—h! There’s one of the horrid creatures now. Jump up here with me, dear.

As Early Hiser.

“Pat you must be an early riser. 1 always find you at work the first thing in the morning.” “Indade, and 01 am, sor. It’s a a family trait Oi do be thinkin'.” ‘•Then your father is an ear ly riser, too eh? 11 “Me feyther, is it? Faix, an’ he raises that early hat es he’d go to bed a little later he’d tqy/e himself getting the moral*Bkh—nnd Di*