Rensselaer Union, Volume 9, Number 41, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 June 1877 — Page 6

THE SERPENTS OF FLORIDA.

Or Um 4Cerent spbcTwtff »a»kes only the Mie. ft L **M that a man In Alachua Oounr£ d)od w'thiii fire minifies. after tx taig mtHa. Thoreptile’* fang* struck hlua to Urn neck white he wa» sleeping, and ejected poison into the Jugular-vein. Mocassins are ' divided into four classes - thrMgaUtMMliotith, theatump ufi|. a waterznoquyln (simitar tomtit water-pilot), and an u plana - moccasin (resembling a copperhead in shape, and fully as deadly.) 1 gather this information from the natives and from five winters oi personal expertThn rattlesnake is divided into lwo families. The most virulent is tlie groundraulor. It Is between twelve and twenty inches long, and not ninch larger than a cdufnionr lead pencil. It arils, springs its tiny faAle, and jump*, the name as its in color; but the diamond murks are not no clearly defined as in the big rattler. During the hot summer days it lies under saipf-sWeopiug palmetto fans, or creeps info gardens and bleeps in the shade of the cabbages and bananas. In clearing up Utter,.a man might easily pick up one unawains. Lieulf Ytrfyht, of the Lnited Slates Coast Survey, tells me that hefotind them V«y (tmmenni* in the salt-water mifshes between D|mmPfls Grove and Banana Creek. In one day he crushed tVo beneath his boot-heel. Last summer, Dr. Fox and Capt. Sams, of New Smyrna, Were waning a wild-cat on a small palmetto island, between the Bast Channel and Devil’s Elbow, at the entrance of Mosquito Lagoon. They had fired the hammock, and, as the) stood in the marshcrass. awaiting the frightened game, the Doctor said: “I hear a big rattlesnake; but he’s a long distance on.” TheCsp’ain listened. “That’saground rattler,” he said. “ I know the sound too well. Don’t stir, for he may be mighty close to us.” The warning was heeded. Aftercareful search they found the deadly little reptile colled at fbolr feet on a mat of dead gftss. Its tail was flying like the wings of a humming-bird, and it was ready to strike on the least motion. The breech of agqp quickly crushed its head. It was fiftoan inches'long, about the size and color of a st'ek of iicnrioe, and had nine rattles, so small that they would go Into a needlecash. ' ~7~ ■" ‘ '

The genuine rattlesnakes grow to a monstrous size, and their colors are more brilliant than those of the Northern species. They have been killed twelve feet long, and as large around as a stove-pipe. Capt. Derail, of Palatka, avers that he saw one, twenty odd years old, with fortyseven rattles. * Incredible as this may seem, Coi- Pratt, ot the Palatka Herald, declares that he has seen one with fiftvtwo. These serpents frequent high, sandy ridges, au4 occasionally lurk iq gardens andifi pmwedfidfcs. Tliev havaeveu been known to mase their way into bams and -hofseft Tie-beach scrub, \ybere Seldom b«fpafl',.is'alive with them. -Some mon*t*r» havf killed qn Anabasis Island, opposite St. Augustine. IA ‘(lie spring I have counted, in .one day, on the l>each between Canaveral and Indian JWier one rattlesnake is killed, another ia/ounri near it. If the body of the dead reptile is dragged through the hdusC or across a cattle pen, its mate is pretty sure to take up the trail and follow it. Through the wiuler these snakes are dormant. They live in lKj)ea made by the gopher i#iijd ti e land turtle, and are conceals in iui|nj of seoM coquina ruins dotting the Eastern eoa-t. As the suqsmer approaches, ilitv pair off ami, liQnt in couples. The jumper less trails in the 'scrub and savannas snade In,’ de.r, ciyios. wildcats and otters, are their favorite lurking-places. Here they lie in ambush, and many an unfortunate rabbit and opossum falls under their fangs.

N«r are the lew- savannas and salt-water marshes free from these proof snakes. Last summer, ad judge Connor, of idve Oak Hill, was crossing the wide open prairie at the head of Indian River, he saw a phimp griy squirrel cutting queer antics on a spot of j hare sited. As the sand was folly a mile from any tree, and covered with bah water six months in the year, the Judge’s Curiosity was excited. To use his own words, “the squirrel was jump ing around right smart, and appeared as if he didn’t know what todo with hlSself.” Its attention was hot distracted by the Jndge’k approach, for it continued prancing over the sand in a concentric course, as though crazed. The Judge walked up with the intention of capturing it. Sud- ; tleply he was confronted by an enormous rat desnake. It was stretched out in the ‘ Wirt grass surrounding the sand, with its head toward the squirrel. On seeing the Judge, it threw itself into a coil and made a noise like that of a buzz-saw. Its tail rattled with terrible earnestness. The squirrel ceased his antics, and sat up on the sand as motionless as. a statue. Finding neither stick nor stone on the prairie, the Judge tried to scare the snake by threatening gestures. These incensed the reptile. It reared both crest and tail, darted out its forked tongue, and jumped, fully eight feet toward the Judge. His Honor then got angry, and threw clods of earth and grass. At"this the serpent flew into an ungovernable rage. Its eyes fairly Sashed fire. Apparently aware that there was no dangerous weapon within reach, it ran straight for the Judge, as though it meant to close with him. It finally became so active that Connor was glad to leave it. As he walked away it resumed Its position, and the squirrel began his dance of death, charmed by its buzzing music. The Judge says that the snake was certainly nine feet long. The mystery is, bow came the squirrel and its on a satt-water prairie a from any tree. More singular still, these large r&Ulers have been seen swimming in the salt water. Dr. Wallace, of Daytona, informs me that he has seen them apDarently croasing from the beach to the main land at Castle Windy. Three years ago, Capt. Neil, of New Bedford, one of Swift’s live-oak superiutendents, met a monster near .Mosquito Inlet, going out with the tide. The snake espied Neil's boat, anil niade a desperate effort to board her. The Captain heat it bff with the oars, but the tight lasted two. or three minutes. The serpent, at last disabled, drifted away ' with the current, and was finally swaliowed by a shark. The larger rattlers are said to follow lierai of cattle. Cow say that they sntoii thetqttfc dropping Xrorajthe udders of the coot, and tase up the 'trail, with a vie* to milking them. This is done Iwgbjtia ttacows are lying on the ground * chewing their ends. When the serpent takes the teat in its month, the cow stops chewing, and becomes as Mill as death. Tim* she remains until the scaly thief is satisfied. She seems to know that the

lout motion would be fatal. One snake lias been known to milk two cows successively. In tlie fall, wlien palmetto berries are ripe, ike rattler crawls to the top of the full-booted tree, and bides beneath its dark green fans. The berries attract the cardinal grosbeaks, bullfinches, mockingbirds and parroqusgs, and they fall Under tlie infernfi magnetism of the snake. The rattlesnake when Hidden on toes not invariably bite a peripn. Bethunc, an old Indian River mail carrier, while deer hunting lasi sumfjer, stepped square on a raider. He felt ft yield and move under hia feet, and then heard Ita ominous humming. He jumped nearly ten feet, and turned as white as a sheet, but he says dial tlie snake made no effort to bite him. A more remarkable story is that told concerning the wife of Judge Connor. She is deaf; and this intensifies a natural dread of rattlesnakes, as she cannot bear dieir notes of warning. Sometime ago her husband and a neighbor were doctoring a sick colt. She was standing in the path, holding some camphor and a bottle of liniment. She felt something cold and scaly cpilipg around her leg. Drawing aside.ber dress and looking down, she saw a rattlesnake gazing steadily into her face, slipping out its red tongue, and waving ita h« an to and fro as high as her hand. The blood rolled away from her heart. She screamed, and jumped aside so spasmodically that the snake last its hold and was left on the ground. It is possible that the serpent was trying tofascinate her; but her deafness barred out its low musical sound. As the Judge and his neighbor ran up the path, she stood trembling with terror, on the point of a faint. “ She’s bit!” said the neighbor in alow tone. “He didn’t bite me,” she retorted, without, however, hearing what he had said.

“She> bit!” the neighbor repeated, “ but she was so skeert she didn’t feel it.” " Are Vou sure be didn’t bite you, Mary?” asked the Judge. “ No, he didn’t bite me,” she replied, “ I know he didn’t.” And shg was right. She plead for the life of the snake because it had spared her; but the Judge killed it. The enemies of the rattlesnake include the hog, the deer and the eagle. The hog thrusts his fat chopb into the snake’s face, meekly receives its bite, seizes the reptile by the neck, places its hoofs on its body, and tea's it asunder. No blood is drawn, the poison is harmless in the fat, and the porker gets a fair meal. A drove of hogs will clear the wildest country of rattlesnakes. When a buck sees a rattler, he springs upon it like lightning, bringing his leet together upon its head and body, thus cutting it U) pieces j for the hoofs of a Fldridian deer are as hard and sharp as a razor. Ac eagle kills the snake while it is sunning itself. The bird descends with the velocity of an arrow, striking the reptile with such force as to sever the vertebrse. But the deadliest foe of the rattler is the common black snake. He is a public lienefactor, and ought to be protected by the Btate Legislature, even if he does pick, up a chicken or two occasionally. He grows very long, and, unlike his Northern compeer, never assails a human being. The rattler fears and shuns him; and well he may, for the black snake is as agile and quick as the mainspring of a watch, and as full of fight as a bull dog. Meeting his antagonist, he attacks without delay. After coiling and sounding an alarm, the rattler keenly watches its assailant. At first the black snake slowly glides around its spiral enemy, as though studying its weak points. He frequently hisses and increases his speed with each cvcle, ever keeping an eye on the rattler. The ’.atter twists its head with every revolution of its assailant Swifter sweeps the black snake around the circle. At the full bent of bis speed the rattler grows dizzy. In a twinkling it is caught by the throat, and the coils of the iwo snakes are intermingled. The contest is decided by main strength. As they writhe in the grass the superior prowess of the black snake is manifest. The rattler is slowly strangled. Sometimes its body is swallowed, but this does not always follow. The coach-whip, a long, clean-cut snake, frequently assists the black snake, and instances are given in which a dozen coachwhips and black snakes joined forces and killed a small regiment of rattlers. Vultures and buzzards, with all their appetite for carrion, will never touch anything bitten by a rattlesnake; but when his snakesbip himself is killed, they devour him with the greatest relish.— Car. N. Y. Sun.

Her Papa’s Grave.

A little girl with tangled locks peeping irout under a calico hood, clad in a dress of chintz that hungall awry, loitered behind as the great, dastv crowd moved out of the gates or Mt.Adna, the other day, after they had scattered their flowers nnd doaefronor to the dead. Half dreamily she gazed after them, her eyes filled with a far-away look of tenderness, until the last one had disappeared and the rattle of the drums had died away, ’then she turned and vaguely scanned the mounds that rose about her, clutching still tighter the fastfading bunch of dandelions and gravegrass that her chubby hand held. An old man passed by, and gently patted her gufrly head, as he spoke her name, but she only shrank back still further, and when he told a passing, stranger that the little one’s fattier was one who went on the battle-field and never came back, there was only a tear-drop in the child’s eye to tell that she heard or knew the story. W hen they were gone she moved on further to a neglected, empty lot, and kneeling down she packed up a mound of earth, whispering as she patted it down, and smoothed it with her chubby hand: “Tbiswibn’t be so awtully b»g as the others, I 'guess, but maybe it’ll be big enough so that God will see it, and think that papa is buried here.” Carefully she trimmed the sides with the stray grasses she plucked, murmuring on: “And maybe it will grow so that it will be like the rest in two or four years; and then, maybe, papa sometime will come back amt ” Rut she paused as though it suddenly dawned npon her young' mind that he rested where the Southern breezes whispers “unknown;” and the tear-drops that sprang to her eyes moistened the little bunch-of dandelions that she planted among the grasses on the mound she had reared. , , ■ When the sexton passed thit way at night as he went to close the gates, he found the little one fast asleep, with her head pillowed on the mound, and when he roused her she started up and looking dreamily aronnd for a moment, and then smilingly faltered: 1 “ Yes. I’ll go home now, for God-says' He will watch papa's grave.” —FuUon (NT.) Tima.

An Ingenious Map.

About the Ist of January, 1876, Prof. Hitchcock, of the Geological Survey, and his assistants began the construction of a raised map of New Hampshire, the design of which was to combine all the present knowledge of tbe geography of the Slate which had been obtained in the geological survey made by Prof. Hitchcock, Prof. Huntington and others. This map has just been completed, and on Tuesday was placed in the State House. Thtf map is fourteen feet ten inches long, representing 178 miles in length (being constructed on a scale of one mile to the inch) and ninety-three miles in width, from the mouth of the Piscalaqua River to the northwest comer of Hinsdale, showing the entire surface of tbe State, 0,336 square miles. It also shows all tbe rivers and brooks, ponds and lakes, hills and mountains, and the town and county lines, railroads, etc. The names of all cities and tow*ns, rivers and principal brooks, lakes and ponds, mountains and high elevations, are given conspicuously, so that any one can find at a glance what they desire to look up. The height of tlie hills and mountains is given on a scale of one inch to 1,000 feet, and actual measurements are given when known. The map is constructed of pine and basswood, and the ‘ process of the work was this: A map was first drawn on paper of the same size as the raised map* with all the outlines of towns, streams, ponds, etc., and contour lines for each 500 feet were drawn. Tracings of the contour lines were made on inch layers of pine and bass boards, maintaining as accurately as possible the relative size and shape. These are fastened upon each other, and the valleys are beveled out with chisels. — Concord (N. II.) Monitor.

An Australian Heroine.

The bravest girl in Australia is Grace Vernon Bussell. The steamer Georgette was wrecked off the west , coast, near Perth; a small boat had been capsized in the surf, and women and children were struggling in the water. On tlie crest of a precipitous clitf appeared the figure of a youug lady on horseback. To the sailors on the stranded vessel it seemed utteriv impossible that a horse and its rider shohlil ise able to descend that precipice. But the young lady never faltered. She plunged down at full speed, and, reaching the shore, spurred her horse into the boiling surf. There were two lines of roaring breakers. With splendid pluck she dashed through them and reached the boat, to which the affrighted women and children were clinging. Her horse stumbled over a hawser which stretched between tlie wreck and the small boat; but she clung to the saddle, and brought the women and children to land. There was still a man left on board the boat. She plunged into tbe breakers again and brought him safe to the shore. While those whtm she had saved were rescuing those who remained on the wreck, the heroic girl drenched with the sea-foam and half fainting with fatigue, galloped a dozen mile 9 hoire to have relief sent to the half-drowned, halfnaked folks whom she ifed left on the Deach. Her sister, Mrs. Brockman, took horse, galloped that night through the woods to the shore, taking tea, milk, sugar and flour for the destitute people; and the next day the rescued were brought to Mr. Brockman’s house and cared for. The anxiety and excitement proved fatal to Mrs. Brockman, wbo took a severe cold, and died eventually of brain fever. Grace Vernon Bussell still lives.

A Wonderful Baby Actress.

There has recently appeared at the Arena Nazionale Theater, of Florence, one of the mo6t wondrous dramatic geniuses that ever trod the stage. I speak of a born artiste, in the person of Gemma Citniberti, a child of five years. She is a lovely creature, with a figure as exquisitely beautiful as if it had been molded by Praxiteles, arms that rival those of the Venus de Medicis, a graceful head, eyes as bright as two stars, a sweet mouth with pearl-white teeth, and features that seem capable of every kind of expression. Young as she is, her voice is sympathetic, elastic and well-toned to an extraordinary degree. The little angel, for she really seems a supernatural creation, is all grace and witchery. While she is provoking thunders of applause and floral tributes in such profusion that the stage is covered with bouquets like a great flower-garden, she herself is apparently unconscious of. the extent of her triumph. She enters into her part with such natural zest that it does not seem acting, and appears rather the extemporaneous utterance of her own brain. Less artificial acting has never been witnessed. She is altogether a child of nature. She memorizes rapidly, and relates whatever she has acquired with a tenacity that nothing can disturb. She has, as it were, an intuitive perception of the character she plays, and without aid or instruction she developcs it with marvelous correctness. ' -

Undoubtedly) Gemma is an instance of the rarest precocity, but there is no evidence of overstrained application to produce extraordinary effects. She walks the stage with as much ease and freedom as if she had trod it all her life. She talks, laughs, mimics, coquets, makes love and accepts the homage of adorers as) prettily as the most accomplished actress could do. She enjoys the perform ance as much as the audience, and forgets herself entirely in her part. It is difficult to distinguish between the child and the actress. Off the stage she is as guileless, as merry and playful as other children of her age. Nothing pleases her better than to romp and sport with her little friends. She is, in fact, apparently unconscious of her power aud endowments, and itJsonly when studying her. part that she becomes serious and reserved. All Florence nightly flocks tc see her. The performers at the other theaters go to study her and learn from her. Poets have written verses in her honor, and the celebrated writer, Yittorio BersCrio, has criticised her performances at length. If she were Kistori herself, he could not have spoken of her acting in more laudatory terms. The journals seem to have forgotten the Eastern question in their enthusiastic admiration for this infantile prodigy of beauty and talent The wife of Salvini, tile tragedian, made her a gift of a precious necklace, and ihe Princess ltoyal Margherita, expressed her appreciation in a present of exquisite beauty and of. considerable value. On the night of her benefit, verses in her praise, printed on tinted and perfumed paper, were showered down oh the boxes from the upper tiers in thousands of copies. All the elite of the ancient TftßP*n .capital, the nobility and the professional classes were present, each one seeming to vie with the other in the expression of his enthusiasm Such a scene, where a child of five years of age held one of the most refined and intellectual aidiences that ever gathered within the walls of a theater spell-bound bv the exhibition of her histrionic talents, has never been seen in any other coun-

try. Master Barry, the English youthful prodigy, was of another style, and not to be compared in qualities of mind and character with Gemma. While she has brain she lias a good physique, and body and mind seem to be fairly balanced, one against tlie other. Sbe is a healthy child, physically and morally. Carahere Rossi, tbe great tragedian, predicts for ber a splendid career, and that spe will improve with age until she becomes the greatest actress the world has ever seen. Little Gemma has an ingenuous ambition. Sbe plays now to please those most near and dear to her; but she will soon love to delight tbe great world, to feed on its applause, and to fascinate it v ith her maturely developed genius. Heaven smile on thee, tittle Gemma! Thou art now tlie joy of thy parents, the idol of an enraptured public, and hereafter if thy life is spared, the world will be filled with thy fame. —Naples Cor. Philadelphia Preen.

Fashion Notes.

Tirrsm, braid has suddenly become very fashionable for trimming, not hats only, but basques and overskirts of dark wool or silk. New York ladies are knitting for themselves long, old-fashioned purses of richcolored silk twist, which are closed by silver rings or slides. . [Square" lace collars —Cromwell collars —are a novelty of tbe year tor bovs and girls. In France tbe square rs placed invariably at the back; Itere, as often in front. Linen mousquetaire cuffs ha(ve straight bands of linen in the center, two inches wide when doubled, and edged on both sides and each end with wide gathered. Smyrna lace. apes’ heads of Labrador stone, with diamond eyes, are the most recent innovations for gentleman’s sleeve-buttons, and scarf-pins take the form of miniature whips, faDS and the like. Gold bonnets are* one of the last Paris extremes. They are made of straw, which is then steeped in a bath of gold. The trimming consists of a large velvet bow and a humming-bird. A favorate "material for shade hats is manila straw, ecru woven in> a slight, indistinct pattern. The crowns are high, and the broad brims indented om each aide and in front in Watteau fashion.

The diagonal scarf overskirt is merely two pleated breadths of silk, trimmed on the lower edge with fringe, lace or pleatings, and sewed on the lower skirt to form two aprons that cross the front - and sides diagonally. A late Paris novelty consists of leaf fans, some of them apparently formed of a series of fern or begonia leaves, ana closed look like a branch of shaded green or tinted autumn leaves, fastened ana held by a veined handle to match. A novelty is a very small carriage parasol, made to turn over on the sides of the stick; in very dark, heavy silks, brightened by a butterfly embroidered in gay colors on one of the gores, and by long loops of ribbons of tw-o contrasting colors tied in the center. The lace sacques imported for summer wraps are partly fitted to the figure, have flowing sleeves and are not too long for gracefulness. The neck is without a collar, but finished with scallops like those edging the front, and many turn over the neck to form revers. Wide cuffs of lace to be worn outside the sleeve are among the importations. They are six inches deep, and sqttare, or else they are closed in gauntlet shape for the hand to be slipped through. Accompanying are broad collhrettes that fasten, behind and hav.e long jabots in front. Summer silks for traveling-dresses are in tiny checks, brown and gray, or brown and white. These are made up with flounced skirt and princess polonaise, and finished with brow n or gray bows; tLe hat may be a broad “sailor,” in fine straw; if the wearer is very young, hut otherwise a capote bonnet. Large feather fans are “ tony.” Shine are white feathers-, others are black and the peculiar shade of stone which is the natural color of the ostrich. They are mounted on sticks of iris, mother -of-pearl, of burgau pearl, of ivory, of tortoise-shell and qbony, and the monogram of the wearer in either gold or silver-chused letters is added on the sticks. The broad-brimmed hats turned up high on the side, which we sent abroad last year, have returned to us emphasized, as Louis XIY. styles, and are very striking for tall beauties,, who can exhibit the long, sweeping plumes to advantage. Fbnny Davenport wore one as the “ Princesse Royal,” and has another m all l black for the street.

The newest French material isbourette, a mixture of silk and wool; the-shades are generally light stone and gray of all tints. Thin flannel and serge dresses are very much worn in greet, blue and! prune color. Jackets of same material as the dress, lined with, a different color and bordered an iimli or more outside with color of the lining—for instance, gray bourette iined and bordered weith prune silk or blue admiral with caroubier. The white-figured Swiss muslins are utilized this season for morning wrappers, and look very pretty trimmed with Smyrna lace aod pale pink or blue ribbons, but white princesse polonaises for afternoon wear must be made-of thicker material, and tie new satin-striped and damasked linens and figures are utilized for this and other purposes, and may be trimmed with flat, white braird, or Madeira embroidery, with velvet bows; if, as is often the case, at the sea-side or in the cool localities, the skirt is of velvet. The Gainsborough remains most picturesque of all summer hats. In many instances a velvet bandeau is below the brim to tit it securely to the head, and the hat then curves away most gracefully in front. 'White chip Gainsboroughs, trimmed with cream white grosgrain, black velvet bandeau and bindings, and clusters of pale pink crushed roses tilling the upturned side, are in a perfection of taste. To complete such hats, a characteristic feature is a bunch of short nodding ostrich plumes placed just in front of the brim and curled over toward the face. The present rage in writing papers is to get the most hideous tints possible. Tint of raw beet sprinkled with soot, mandarin dotted with gold dust, gray specked with Silver, and navy-blue, bottle green, brown, crimson, carmine—anything not handsome—is in demand with the ultra fashionable. White and pale gold bronze ink is used with this paper. Another “ new departure” in expensive stationery is the Japanesque paper, ornamented at intervals over the surface of the twoontside pages with tracings of figures or flowers in palegilt, indicating the state of feelings in the representations. — Springfield (Alasit.) Republican.' Th* New York life insurance companies last year issued policies to the amount of fl 19,000,000, while the policies terminated by surrender and lapse amounted to *125.000,000, and by death to about |15,. tXIO.GOO--

Religious. “HB GIVXTB JUS BXLO VXD BLXXF." A unu child re* to on a bed of pain. With au aching head aud a throbbing brain; A feaeriab flu b on the oo!t cheek lie*. And a wlotfnl look in the aweet nine eye*. Aa tba alck child moans: ‘‘How the slow boors creep! Will the J-ord not send to Ills little one sleept” And tbe mother smoothed from the child's brow . fair The clustering logics of her golden hair. And murmured: “ Mr darling, wc cannot tell. But we know trial the Kutlie/doth nit things well: And we know that never a creature in pain Addressed a prayer to Ilia merev in ram. Time has no line that Ills hind may not'smooth; Life has no grief lha His love caiinot soothe; And the fevered brow shall have resist last. In the healing ahade from the death-croe* cast. Look up my precious one; why rhould st thou weeps The Lord giveth aye tc Bis lot ad ones sleep." And the little one gazed with a glad surprise In the loving den fa. of thcr-e patient eye., ' Then lifter her lips for oue long embrace. And turned wih a smile on her weary face. And tbe mpther smiled as the early morn ‘ - Marked the deep peace oil the childish f ,na. And cited aloud in» her thankfuln-sedeep- ‘ " The dear Lord be praised, who hath fc iveo her sleep!" Aye, sleeps In thnt charmed repoke that shall waken no more to earth's pains and! WO€fl For the Savior hath gathered Hie lamb to Ilia breast, Whene never life's storms shall her peace molest. His dear love willed not that time should trace One sorrowful Ilne-on that innot en face: Others, less favored, might suffer their share Of the midnight toil and the noontide-glare; Others might la' or. etliere might we p. But ‘ Bhe Lord giveth aye to His loved ones sleep.” —Chambers' Journal

International Sunday School Lessons. THIRD QUARTER, 1877. July I—Paul in Cyprus Acts 13: 1-13 July B—Paul at Anti0ch.......... Acta 13:26-41 July 15—Turning to the Gentiles. Acte 18:42-52 July 22—Paul at Ly5tra......... ...Acte 14: 8-20 July 29 —The Yoke Broken Aete 15:22-31 Aug. s—Paul5 —Paul sent to Macedonia. . Acts 16: 1-15 Aug. 12—Paul and Silqp in Prison. Acte 16:22-34 Aug. 19—Thessalonians and BenefUiß Acte If?: 1-14 Aug. 26 —Paul at Athens Acte 17:22-34 Sept. 2 —Paul at Cbrinth. Acte 18: 1-11 Sept. 9—Paul at Ephesus........ Acte 19: 1-12 Sept. 16 —Power of the Word Acte 19-.17-28 Sept. 23 Paul at Sept. 80*—Review, or lesson selected by the school..

A Visit to Bethany.

We went over the hill to. Bethany; we had climbed up by the path, on which David flew from Absalom, and we were to return by the road to the Triumphal Entry. Ali along the ridge we enjoyed a magnificent panorama;, a blue piece of the Dead Sea, the Jordan plaia extending far up towards Harmon, with the green ribbon of the river winding through it, and the long, even range of the Moab Hills; blue in tbe distanoe. Tbe prospect was almost Swiss in. its character, but it is a masaof bare hills, with scarcely a. tree except in the immediate foregioundt. Bethany is a squalid hamlet clinging to the roaky hillside, with only one redeeming feature about it—the prospect. A few wretched one-story huts of stone, and-a miserable handful of Moslems, occupy this favorite home and resting, place of our Lord. Close at.hand, by. the roadside cut in the rock, and reached by a steep descent of twenty-six steps, is the damp and doubtful tomb of Lazarus, down into which anyone may go. for half a franc paid, to the Moslem.guardian. The house of Mary and Martha is exhibited among tile big rock» and fragments of walls; upon older foundations loose wails- are laid, rudely and'reeeDtly, patched up with cut stones in fragments,, and pieces of Roman, columns The house of Simon the leper, overlooking the whole, is a mere heap of ruins. Ii does not matter however, that all these dwellings are-mod-ern ; this is Bethany, and when we get away from its present wretchednasa-we remember only that we have seen the very place that Christ loved. We returnedjalong the highway- of the Entry slowly, pausing to identify the points of that memorable progress, up to tlie crest where Jerusalem broke upon the sight of tlie Lord,, and. whence the procession, coming round the cuinte of the. hill, would have the full view of the city. He who rides that way torday has-a grand prospeet. One finds- Jerusalem most poetic-when seen from Olivet, aud Olivet most lovely when seen from the distance of the city walls.— Charlesl)-alley Warner, in AtlAmiic.

Confessing Christ.

Now, ts we are ashamed of Him, He certainly will be ashamed- of us. There was a-boy got up-in one of tluo meetings in Boston a number of years ago. Therewere- many agodi Pilgrims 'there. The boy got up andi he could not talk good English; he was a Norwegian, and foor--teen years of age. Witu the tears trickling down his cheeks,, he said:“ If I tell the world about Jesus,. Jems will tell the Father about me.”' I. have never forgotten) that speeah I cwuihot tell you a word that those aged men said, but that little boy’s testimony! burned down into my soul. If we own Him in this uubeiieviqg world, and cons Him, He will confess us before Gad ami the holy angels. During the war our Generals were very anxious to h&ve their names mentioned in. Congrgss, and h- -v proud they were whe-, spoken of in immtJs of praise. If w think so much of Wing mentioned puoliclv here-, how much ought we to think, of being me itinned iq. the (Jburts o-f Heaven * If are confess Him down hero. He will confess us tip yonder. I cannot describe the blessing t felt ip my soU when 1 contessed that 1 had taken my stand on the Lord’s' sidel I was ! bl wftr man, and I would not give up the privilege cj speaking feu - Christ if- you would give ate the whole world.— &. L. M<*<dy.

Fraying in the Night Watches.

, I am not surprised at David’s praying to God in the night-watches; at his rising from his bed, and ascending to the roof of his house, and when the mighty heart of the city was still, and the mountains round about Jerusalem were sleeping in the calm brilliancy of an Eastern night, that he should gaze with rapture on the sky, and pour forth such a psalm of praise as “When I .consider the Heavens the work Of Thy fingers,”, etc. The night is more suited to prayer than the day. I,never wake m the middle of the night without feeling induced to commune with God. Grie ftels brought more in contact with Him. The whole world round us, we think, is asleep. But the great Shepherd of ‘lsrael slumbers not, nor sleeps. He it. awake, and so are we. We feel, in the solemn and silent night, alone witn God. And then there is every; thing in tbe circumstances to lead oi eto pray. The past is often vividly recalled. The voices of the ,dCad Are heard, and their forms cro»d around you. No sleep can bind them. The night seems the time in which they should hold spiritual

communion with man The ftitnre, too. throws its dark shadow over yon - the night ot the grave, the certain death-bed,-the night in which no man can work. And then everything makes such an impression on the mind at night, when the brain is nervous and susceptible. The low sough of the wind among the trees; the roaring*or eerie whi»h pf some neighboring stream; the bark, or' low how rdf the dog; the general impressive silence, all tend to sober and solemnize tbe mind, < and. to force it from the world and Its vanities, which |tben seem asleep to God, who alone can uphold and defend it.— Norman Macleod. I .>,

General Sunday-School Assembly.

The Sunday-School Assembly to be held at Lake Bluff Camp Grounds promises to be the most important meeting of Its kind ever held in the West. It will be in charge of Rev. J. H. Vincent,' D. D., under whose management tlie Chaptauqua Assemblies, for the past two or three years, have been bo successful. On the Boiwj of Instruction are such men as Rev. Joseph Cook, of Boston; Rev. Dr. Deems, oiNew York,editor of Sunday Magazine; Geo. A. Peitz, editor Sun day-School Times, Philadelphia; M. C. Hazard, editor National Sunday. School Tea-her; B. F. Jacobs, W. F. Crafts, and many other distinguished Sunday-School workers. Lake Bluff is thirty miles north from Chicago, on the shore of Lake Michigan. The Assembly will begio July 17 aod end tlie 27th. Railroads will give reduced fares, and'ample provisions- will be made' to entertain, at small expense, all tnose who may desire to come. For further information.. address Jrhn E. Miller, Secretary, 58 Metropolitan Building, Chicago,. 111.

Beware of the Fatah Benzine.

Early .yesterday morning; asingular accident occurred at the residence of Mir. Charles B, Sbotemaker, No, 1604 Swain, street. Mr. Shoemaker was preparing to leave-the city for the summer with his family,, and to protect hia carpets aud upholstered furniture from moths, he • sprinkled benzine over it. Then he want up. stairs, and while there the gas generated by the benzine exploded. Mrs. Shoemaker and Miss Hall, who were in. the roqm at the time, were badly burned. They,jumped out of the back window, Miss Hall going to' the yard, in the rear, and Mrs. Shoemaker to a neighbor’s house opposite. Every stitch of Miss Hall’s clothing was burned and her flesh scorched to a crisp, and at half-past.twelve o'clock she died from the effects of her injuries. Mrs. Shoemaker’s burning clothing was smothered by Mr. David Hoffer, but she was badly burned. During last night ber agony was intense,, and ah one o’clochthis' morning she diedAn examination of the parlor, after: thefire had been extinguished showed something of the three of the explosion and the intense heat of.the flames. The window shutters were biown open, glass smashed into atoms, walla-cracked and the register -knocked to pieces. The heat was so .great that a small, bronze, figure was actually melted, by it. There seems no doubt that the aacident was caused! by. the explosion of tire gas arising from the benzine. There was notire in the parlor, nor any, in the diningroom immediately back;, but in the kitchen,, which counsels with the diningroom, as the latter dees with the parlor, there was a fire in the range. It is the theory of. some that the gas in the parlor found its way to the kitchen and was ignited l^iere. Mis 4 Hall iwas-to hare been, married im a few weeks. She was to have left the situation,on Saturday to prepare- for the: wedding, but! concluded to remain with Mr. Shoemaker and; family until, ;they should leave for the country.—Philadelphia- TUegrapJu

Wrecked, at the Poorhouse.

The Washington, correspondent of thee Hartford, Hinas writes vividly oh a visit to. the poor-house in that city,, whCre he found, a half-dozen, human wreaks, all off whom, were once very prominent, in social, and polltia&l life-iin various States bf the Union v and several of whom ware former, - ly in affluence." Two of these are thus. described!: 1, ■ , .i ; . .r onffijdi the, flush men I met upon enteiv ing was-a short thick-set man with a Websterian. head and) powerful voice. I haveknqwmkini for many years as- a lawyer,,, and! am, pretty well informed,of his weakness, whidh is„id brief, the too treqgent indulgence in liquor. Indeed, that seimai'to. be the' trouble with all the men whoiare now with. him. The man I referi to was-at one time-Attorney-Ganeral of V.inginiiL He stood very high, as a lawyer. One of jthe lawyers who appeared before--the Electoral, Commission, as “of cvoun~ sdl” for the Democratic party studied, ia tine office of this man. Several of the di&tingsished lawyers whom. I could mention, have also been at non time sPtdents in his office.. If I mistake not, his- father, Was at one time the- Attorney-Ganecal of »he United States, ffle has beea, very wealthy in. his day, and is not by any i-means an old man yah. Another, man I . sqw there was considenahly older. Whis!ky wtls his weakness also. His history is i i/ong but.pointed. At- one time oae to the | Judges oithe Supresmßench of the State «f California, hfe canuj; to this ctly„ soon after the- iuaugurati<u& ®f Buchanan,, at the request «f John W. Forney, to tnkp the jwsitioa cf Collector ©! the Port, of San , Fxaqqisco. He resigned his J udgeship to come here. Uponturiiving lift called on 1 Buchan,m. At thie time he had, property and money ju barjf . amounting: to about* Something turned up whichi prevented him fßorn receiving the posir ■ port. He,did nut. desire to return to Cal. ifornia -unless he secured the add, hot securing it,, he never returned. Feeling disappointed, he took to drink. He lounged about the hotek here for the ten years following, occasionally getting, a claim through some of the Departments and drinking up the proceeds. It waanot long before Ue had spentbis last dollar. For, years he was supported by Col. Thomas B. Florence of Philadelphia, “the widow’s friend/’ aud the most charitable, man who was ever in Congress. After the death of Col. Florence several years since, he had no one to look out for lrnj, and finally a newspaper reporter, who knew him well, securea a permit for him to spend the remainder of his days in tha city almshouse, pot. being able financially 16 take'care of him himself. Did I use his name it would be recognized by m&uy as the name of the most eloquent man of thVWest, and of one who was very prominent* and was a valuable friend to many who visited the gulden shores during the gold fever in 184 S. , * I S Tl -W • u>" V . Tiie equality m point of numbers of this sexes is moat nearly Attained fp France. For every l.OOd’men there are 1,007 women. The other extrema is found in Paraguay, where there are 2,089 wotfieu tbr 1,000 men.