Slit familg ®ml*.
[For the American Presbyterian.]
HOMESICKNESS.
BY JESSIE GLENH.
Why should I wish 1 o stay,
In this dark world of sorrow and of woe, —
Storms gathering o'er my way,
And clouds of sin, around my path below ?
Why love this wilderness
Of dark, damp woods, and clinging, marshy soil ?
Why love the bitterness,
That mingles in my daily cup of toil ?
Why should I cling to life ?
When life is full of tumult and unrest, —
Of siokness and of strife,
Of thorns that wound and tear my fainting breast ?
Why should I fear to die ?
When dying shadows point to upper light?
Why shrink when death is nigh,
When death but leads the way to “mansions”
bright ?
0, I am homesick, Lord!
Homesick for Thee, —and weary of each sin 1
When from this load abhorred
Shall Ibe freed ? When shall new life begin ?
Jesus ! while here I stay,
Oh, nerve my spirit for the conflict wild !
Guide, through life's dreary way.
Then safely heavenward lead tby homesick child.
HOW THE DOG SPITZI HELPED THE
REFORMATION.-!
(From Carters’ “ Tales from Alsace.”),
Three men, the old and venerable town
clerk, Oswald von Gamsharst, Father Ber
nard Homer, and the pastor Johannes Hofer,
were sitting, one fine summer evening, on a
bench in front of the Augustinian Convent,
deep in conversation regarding the' great
questions and momentous events of the time.
Near them, under the great lime-tree on the
market place, sat the pastor’s little daugh
ter Idelette, then two years old, no less en
grossed with the enjoyment of her supper.
Beside the little one lay crouched a lean,
black dog of the “ spitzi’ breed, whose ap
pearance told of days of dearth, for, as the
proverb says, “ hunger stared at you from
his eyes ; ” it looked up so lovingly at the
child, wagged its tail so beseechingly, and
so eagerly devoured every crumb that fell,
that it would have melted a very heart of
stone. Little Letty, however, who had never
suffered hunger, and eould not understand
the dumb language of the poor beast, push
ed away the nose of this intrusive beggar,
and in her determined effort to snub him,
dropped her piece of bread. The dog caught
it and ate it ravenously, upon which tho
little girl j umped up angrily and began to
cry, exclaiming, “ Spitzi, you naughty Spit
zi I” stamping with her little feet, and strik
ing the creature’s black, rough, matted back
with her clenched fist. The dog, however,
never stirred, but continued imperturbable
in the enjoyment of its repast.
" Why are you crying so, little Letty, and
what harm has poor Spitzi done you?” ask
ed Hansli, who at that moment issued from
the German Court, bringing a basket of
strawberries for his uncle the pastor, and
his aunt Theresa, fresh from the forest of
the Hart, where he had gathered them with
his father. The child’s screams had also at
tracted the said pastor and his spouse in hot
haste.
But now a rough, screeching voice was
heard calling from Finninger, the wheel
right’s workshop, across the road, —“Spitzi,
Spitzi, come hither, thou devilish beast, or
. . . .” here followed, a vile oath.
, “ Alas and alack-a-day 1” exclaimed Hans,
“that is the wicked Mike Finninger; he will
certainly beat poor Spitzi to death! ” The
boy ran to Theresa, who bad taken Letty
up in her arms and was endeavoring to
soothe her. Spitzi, however, cowered down
terrified, dropped the hit of bread out of his
mouth, and crepttrembling,his tail between
his legs, behind the minister, as if to implore
protection and aid.
A tall stripling, some sixteen years old,
now came forward under the old lime-tree,
with a thick rope in his hand and an oath
on his lips, and asked, in a rude, coarse man
ner, “ What corner the black vermin had
crawled away to ?” He caught the whiniDg
creature, kicked it along, and threwthe rope
round its ears to take it, as he said, to the
butcher’s for execution, because of its being
mad, and having, that very morning, bitten
his sister Agnes.
“ Yob, —beoause, here under this lime-tree,
she pricked it in the ears with a large needle
till the blood flowed! I saw it myself, for
I was present!” stormed out Hans, his dread
of the spiteful lad overcome by his pity for
the dumb victim of his persecutions.
“ That dog is not mad,” said Pastor Hofer
seriously, taking, as he spoke, a cup of wa
ter which stood on the bench, and holding
it to the trembling animal. The creature
eyed it eagerly, licked his hand, and then
obediently emptied' the cup to its last drop.
“How, you arc yourself witness, Mike, that
there is nothing he looks less like than being
mad, when he has so gladly gulped down
that water!” said the pastor. “ ‘ The right
eous man is merciful to his beast,’ we are
told in God’s holy word; but you and your
brothers and sisters are constantly plaguing
poor Spitzi after a most ungodly fashion, so
that often before now I have felt boiling
with indignation, and almost called on to
use the well-merited rod of correction.”
Michael grew crimson with rage, and im
pudently retorted, “ The dog belongs to me,
and I am free to do as I choose with it.” He
straightway fell to indulging in abuse of the
Lutheran heretics and their preachers,
“ who were always meddling with matters
that did not concern them, and who ought,
one arid all, to be burnt on the scaffold,”
tightening at the same time, the rope he
had fastened round Spitzi’s neck, and pre
paring to drag off the poor animal, when
Oswald von Gamsharst rose from his seat
and barred the way, asking'him in a stern
THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN, THURSDAY, MARCH 4, 1869.
tone, as he pointed to the order of the au
thorities that was stuck up on the church
door, “Michael Finninger, canst thou read ?”
On meeting the glance of the severe town
clerk, whom the good honored and the evil
dreaded, the bold and worthless youth turn
ed pale, drew back rebuked, and muttered
between his teeth some reply inaudible to all.
Tho town-clerk continue'!, “In this mandate
the Christian authorities have strictly pro
hibited, under pain of severe punishment, the
abuse of preachers of the everlasting Gos
pel by dubbing them ‘ Lutheran heretics,’
as well as the uttering of blasphemous oaths
and curses. Now, as you have just been
guilty iu both points, and have thus incur
red the penalty, you must come with me to
your father, who is responsible for you, and
with whom I shall settle the matter.” So
saying, he took the much disconcerted
Michael by the hand, and led him to Finnin
ger’s house, across the road.
Meantime the rest of the party took com
passion on the poor ill-used dog. Pastor
Hofer loosed the string round its neck, and
kindly stroked its lean back. Theresa fetch
ed a piece of bread, with which Hans fed
it; little Letty, who, with the happy incon
sistency of childhood, had speedily forgot
ten both anger and fright, caressed it ten
derly, and while she was repeating her call,
“ Spitzi, poor, poor Spitzi! ” Father Bern
ard gravely exclaimed, “ If only we could
set the poor animal free from the clutches of
those Finningers! After what has occur
red, they will vent their fury on Spitzi, and
treat it more truelly than ever !”
At length Oswald von Gamsharst return
ed, saying with a look of annoyance, “What
a houseful of unruly children that is ! The
mother promotesidlenees,pride, and sensual
ity; the father is sowing the seeds of self-will
and defiance in his children’s hearts. They
are both assuredly sowing to the wind with
a full hand, and soon they must reap the
whirlwind. I was driven to poaching on
your preserves, Master John, for I preached
a sermon to them containing a sharp rebuke,
such as they will never either forget or for
give I Besides which, instead, of demanding
payment of the fine due by Mike, I required
that the poor dog should be set at liberty,
for otherwise they would have tormented it
to death. Take it with you to the German
Farm, Hansli, —there it will be out of sight
of its tormentors; it is faithful, and a capi
tal watch, and in. these evil days may render
good service to your father in his pander
ings through the Hart and the surrounding
district.”
Hans was overjoyed, and coaxed the dog
most caressingly to follow him at once.
Spitzi, however, always slipped through his
fingers when apparently caught, lay down
at Pastor Jbhn’s feet, fawning’on him, and
attaching itself to him in the most decided
manner, as if it would say, “ Thiß is the
master whom I wish to serve, and to whom
I will be faithful all my. life long! ” “ Who
could have had the heart to repel the poor
beast?” as Theresa afterward remarked.
And in the quiet family circle into which it
was welcomed, whose home was then in the
Augustinian Convent, Spitzi’did from that
time right honorably eafn its daily bread.
When Pastor John Hofer, who, as senior
chaplain of St. Stephen’s church at Aber
fteinbrunn, had to go there to conduct ser
vice and to preach, took up his pilgrim’s
staff in the fulfilment of his pastoral duties,
Spitzi, to the great relief and consolation of
the devoted Theresa, never failed to accom
pany him. In the convent and before its
door, Spitzi was Letty’s playmate, and took
tender care of her. When Father Bernard,
who lived with his adopted children John
and Theresa, happened to fall asleep in his
easy-chair, Spitzi kept watch before the
door, and when the dog was seen to lie still
there and not to bark or growl if any stran
ger apppeared, the familiars of the minis
ter’s home were wont to say, “ Hush, hash,
make no noise, for Father Bernard is now
taking his nap.”
Meantime the relations of the family of
the Finningers continued far from amicable:
open hostilities they did not indeed venture
upon towards the in habitants of the convent,
because the town-clerk and all the worship
ful magistrates were ever ready to back the
pastor and his family. Spitzi likewise they
were forced to leave unmolested, for if the
wicked Finninger boys approached too
near, it at onee showed them its sharp, white
teeth, growling angrily, often, moreover,
barking violently when it saw them at a
distance, so that even Pastor John, whose
least beck or nod it implicitly obeyed, had
difficulty in pacifying it. Nevertheless, bad
neighbors these Finningers ever continued
to be ; ingenious in Revising spiteful bits of
mischief, calumnies, and cunning tricks, all
which were unavailing to break the public
peace, because the inmates of the convent
bore all with patience and Christian love.
For in our little republic, as elsewhere, tlje
Gospel had borne blessed fruit, and many a
home, besides that of the Augustinian Con
vent, witnessed tranquil lives of piety, de
voted to the Lord’s service. In St.. Stephen’s
church, Augustine Kramer, Otto Binder,
and Jacob Augsburger,—in the church of
the Augustinians, Father Bernard and John
Holer alternately expounded God’s holy
word, and when, in the evening, these eccle
siastical leaders assembled under the great
lime-tree, the burghers likewise gathered in
the-square of the Augustinians, and listened
devoutly to the beautiful spiritual songs,
and to the unctional prayer which, at the
tolling of the curfew-bell, one of trie clergy
was wont to offer up before they dispersed.
“ The Archduke, now King Ferdinand,
was a zealous persecutor of the ‘ Evangeli
cals ’ (or adherents of the reformed faith)
in all his dominions,- and had moreover
counsellors like-minded with himself. For
this reason, when the people of Mulhausen
gave in their adhesion to the Gospel cause,
the Ensisheim Government sought to plague
and persecute them in every way, both from
old hereditary hatred and from the change
of creed.” So we read: in Peter’s Chronicle
of the Town of Mulhausen, book vi. p. 291 i
Accordingly, within a short time a chaplain
in the town, who had preached the Gospel
in Brunnstatt, and Link, minister of Illzach,
Johannes Hofer’s most intimate friend, were
surreptitiously taken prisoners and execut
ed summarily at Ensisheim, which excited
great terror, ill-will and distress in the town.
Theresa in particular trembled for her be
loved John, and felt powerless to quell the
gloomy foreboding within her that he too
would meet a similar death. But she told
her complaint and all her fears to the Lord
in silent prayer, as she had learned to do of
old from her pious grandmother. She did
not wish to unman her husband, nor to hold
him back from duty, and full well did she
know that “none, of us liveth unto him
self,” .... but “unto the Lord" (Eom.
xiv. 7,8), every one of His people living
and dying for his service, that is for his
brethren’s good.
In those days, however, a sultry oppres
sive atmosphere overhung our poor tyrant
ridden town. Almost all her citizens, even
Burgomaster and Council, had lost courage;
for not only were they surrounded and per
secuted by a powerful Austrian Govern
ment, but also the dear Confederates of Swit
zerland, to whom men had naturally turned
in this extremity, hoping for protection and
succor from them, had taken part against
us, and with the solitary exception of Zu
rich, had refused to mediate on our behalf.
The twelve cantons sentfour deputies, from
Uri, Enterwalden, Freiburg and Solothurn,
to Mulhausen, with, the express coinniand
that, “in case Mulhausen consented to re
cant tho new heresy, they wero to spare
neither expense nor pains to obtain justice
for the town at the hands of Austria, even
though they, might peril their lives thereby.
On the other hand, in case the town refused
to depart from the opinions of Luther and
Zwinglej the ambassadors were instructed
forthwith to ride home again, leaving Mul
hausen to her fate.”
This message, as already remarked, spread
great consternation and anxiety both among
the citizens and the authorities, and the
majority were disposed to yield. But in this
storm, as in former ones,, the venerable
town-clerk, Gamsharst, stood firm as a rock
amid*the surging billows : supported by the
devout ministers, he succeeded, with God’s
help, in raising the crushed spirits and re
animating the faith and courage of our fore
fathers. After long and stormy debates in
Council, the following answer was commu
nicated. to the Confederate ambassadors,
both verbally and in writing: “ The people
of Mulhausen had abrogated nothing essen
tially Christian in Divine worship. They
had only done away with unchristian abuses.
Their hope and comfort were only in &e
Almighty God and His everlasting Son
Jesus Christ, our alone Saviour and Media
tor, whose holy word, according to both
Testaments, they caused to be
among them without any human additions.
And in all: this they were resolved to
persevere. . They were willing to comply
With the wishes of their well-beloved allies
and lords in all things possible; this matt'er,
however, concerned the glory-of God and
•the salvation of their souls; wherefore they
could by no means change anything in this
their Christian reply.”
When on the folio wing day, after the feast
of St. Peter and St, Paul, the four ambassa
dors, who had been entertained in the best
Btyle and loaded with marks of honor, rode
off homewards, their countenances gloomy
and sinister-looking, then indeed our devout
forefathers realized that “here we walk by
faith, not by sight,” and that we must
“ through much tribulation enter ; into th,e
kingdom of God" ( 2 Cor. v. 7; Acts xiv.
22.) [To be Continued.]
THE GOLDEN KEY.
It was a. stormy December day, and
Lucy’s aunt was seated by the table at
work. Lucy was perched in her favorite
seat by the window, watching the soft white
snow-flakes as they flattered gracefully to
the ground, covering with their fleecy man
tle every rough, unsightly thing, and mak
ing the broad earth a scene of purity and
beauty. She was so very quiet that her
aunt at length, looked up anxiously,, and
said, “Whatare you thhinking of, my dar
liog ?” The thoughtful look passed from her
brigh face, and the sunny smile 1 came back
again as she threw herself'in her aunt’s
arms and exclaimed, “I was thinking,
aunty, that I have found a golden hey that
unlocks everybody’s heart to me. Can yon
guess what it is, aunty ?”
Her aunt smiled and shook her head.
“It is only one little word —‘Please/ If
I say, ‘ Please give me a piece of bread and
butter, Nora,’ she says, ‘Yes, miss/ and
takes her hands out of -the suds and goes
and gets it at onee. - John says she is cross.
But she is never cross to me. I think one
reason is because I try not to vex her.
“Sometimes John says to her, ‘Get my
slippers instantly,’ no matter what she is
doing; and she answers back in loud and
angry words; and John says she is the
Grossest person he ever saw. Don’t you
think, aunty, if John used the golden key
she would be kind and pleasant to him
too?”
“ Yes, my love, and if they would both
remember that a ‘ soft answer turneth away
wrath,' and act accordingly, I think there
would very soon cease to be harsh words
between them. There are few persons so
thoroughly bad' that they,cannot be won bj
kindness. Even dumb animals are not in
sensible to its influence. If you should beat
Fido, or speak sharply to him, do you think
he would show the same affection for you
that he now does? If my little girl will Al
ways keep in her possession the precious
golden fey which she has been so fortunate
as to find thus early, she will never want
friends, and, itf trying to make those around
her happy, -sf ill insure a neyei;-failing source
ofhappinessherself.''
Dear young reader, doyou not desire to
secure this bea.utiful golden key which Lucy
so prized, and whose magic influence made
her happy and beloved ?
BOYS YOB ABE WATCHED.
A group of men, at the opening of the
state legislature, were talking of the appli
cants for position in the various offices in
the gift of the senate and house of repre
sentatives.
Of course, there were a good many ap
plying, and there must be some disappoint
ment falling somewhere; and they were
canvassing the matter to make it as nearly
right all round as possible.
There were two desiring the same place
in the senate chamber, both boys, verging
into manhood—one the son of a high state
official, the other the son of an officer who
had died in the army in the late civil war.
He had already performed the duties of the
place he sought again.
This is the substance of remarks made,
showing the truth of the assertion at the
head of this article.
“ Well, gentlemen, I think J ought
to have this place, or a better one, if we
can give it. He isn’t a governor’s son, and
he hasn’t any great friends to push him;
but a boy who will do as he did at the last
session—not spending his earnings oh him
self, never seen with a cigar in his mouth,
or strutting along the street in dandy
clothes, but quiet, and well-behaved, saving
all his money and carrying it home and
giving it to his mother—that boy, I say,
deserves as good a place as we can give
him.” And so, though he had not that
place he did get one as good, and probably
better.
How, boys, these words arefor you. Noth
ing is more certain than, if this boy had
given way to the temptation assailing those
who are on the boundary line or the deba
table ground between boyhood and manhood
—if he had learned to smoke and been seen
smoking, if he had strutted in stunning and
flashy clothes, if he had been all that is so
well understood as comprehended in the
term “fast," if he had not honored his
mother—a precious, praying mother at
home—and been a quiet, modest, pure-mind
ed, gentlemanly boy, he never could have
secured the appointment that now enables
him to help this mother again.
He did not know that he was watched
particularly. Probably he was not. But
men are unconsciously observing ; if not
with the purpose of influencing future con
duct, yet future conduct is influenced, as in
this case. The character earned by him
by his simple, unaffected ways and dress,
by his filial affection and faithfulness, stood
him in good stead; and because those
who had watched him approved of what
they saw in him they help him all they can.
A DOLLAE AND A THOUGHT.
A few days ago, one of God’s faithful
Stewards, a man endeavoring to: glorify his
Heavenly Father with his substance, and to
lay up treasure in heaven, made this re
mark to me:
“ I sat down a night or two ago, and cal
culated the increase of a dollar at compound
interest, and found that, in less than two
hundred and forty years, it amounted to
more than two millions and a'half of dol
lars. And I asked myself whether God
would not make a dollar laid up for him
grow as rapidly as it does by the laws of
trade.”
The arithmetical calculation, and the
transfer thereof to the field of beneficence,
struck me.
“Yob, my brother," said I, “we need
hardly doubt. The word of the Lord is:
‘ Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven.’
He has also said: ‘He that hath pity upon
the poor, lendeth to the Lord, and that
which he hath given will he pay him again.’
The laws operating in the spiritual w'orld
must bo, at least, as certain as those which
operate in any other department of the uni r
verse- ■ God is more able and willing to pay
his debts than men are to pay theirs. You
would not have my money as a loan with
out paying me interest, and God is more
noble-minded than man. How Certain and
emphatic is the promise that he will pay it
again I I have not . the least doubt, dear
brother, that in two hundred and forty
years from this day you will find every dol
lar you have laid up for the Lord worth
more to you than two and a half millions
of dollars. And, then, there is this to be
thought of about the matter: if you put
out your dollar on receipt, you must be cer
tain to collect your money and its interest
every year, and every year find a responsi
ble borrower for the amount. When you
give to the poor, you lend to the Lord, who
keeps the accounts, and does the compound
ing for you.” — Dr. Deems.
IT’S ONLY A LITTLE WHILE. SIB.
“ Well, Molly/' said the Judge going up
to the old apple woman's stand, “ don’t you
get tired sitting here these cold, dismal
days?”
“ It's only a little while,” said she.
“ And the hot, dusty days ?” said he.
“ It’s only a little while, sir,” answered
Molly.
“ And the rainy, drizzly days ?” said the
Judge. •
“ It’s only a little while,” answered Molly.
“And your sick, rheumatic days, Molly,”
said the Judge.
“ It’s only a little while, sir,” said she.
“And what then, Molly?” asked the
Judge.
“ I shall enter into the rest which remains
for the people of God,” answered the old
woman devoutly, “and the troublesome
ness of the way there don’t pester or'fret
me. It’s only a little while, sir.”
“ All is well that ends well, i dare say,”
said the Judge,;! ff but w.hut makes you so
sure, Molly ?” ■ J
“How can I help being sure,” said she,
“since Christ is the way, and I am his?
He is mine, and lam his. Now I only feel
him along the way, I shall see him as ho is,
in a little while, sir.”
“Ah I Molly, you’ve got more than the
law ever taught me,” said the Judge.
“Yes, sir, because I went to the gospel.”
“ Well, Molly, I must look into these
things," said the Judge, taking an apple and
walking off.
“ There’s only a little while, sir,” said she.
—American Tract Society.
gtittrtiJtc.
ABOUT SPIDEBS,
A few weeks ago, I received a letter from
an unknown correspondent in Ohio, who
says, “1 venture to ask you to give us a
letter on the spider. There is no insect that
has been so much a mystery to me as this,
and I wish to know how the animal gets
from one object to another without wings."
I have often seen, for instance, one thread
across a road from one fence stake to ano
ther, and from one tree to another. I know
that some have said that the wind carries
them from one object to another, but I can
not think this theory is correct, because I
have often seen such threads in the morning
when during the night there was not air
enough to'carry a spider. I wish you to
write a letter on the habits of this insect,
believing it would be a gratification not only
to myself but many others."
I like to, encounter observers of nature
and not only of the great and colossal but
also of the small and insignificant. “ The
meanest thing has greatness in it;” and if
the. Almighty made these things and cares
for them, it is not beneath the dignity of
man to “ consider ’’ them. If you will allow
a little Latin, let me say in the words of a
heathen-writer,—“omnia plena sunt Jovis,”
all things are full of God, and His works
should bo “sought out” and studied.
In direct answer to my unknown corres
pondent, I will say, that yon would not al
low me space enough to Bay all I know about
this hated animal, which, however, displays
most extraordinary and almost incredible
instincts, yet I will reply to his special in
quiries.
He is correct in presuming that the air
does not convey the insect from place to
place unaided by other means, but he pre
sumes too much when ho says, “ there was
not air enough during the night to carry a
spider,” for I do hot suppose, he watched
the barometer all night to be able to judge.
"We must take nothing for granted in our
scientific observations. After this little cau
tion, let me proceed.
Although spiders are not provided with
wings, and are consequently incapable of
flying, in the strict sense of the word, yet,
by the aid of their silken filaments, numer
ous species are enabled to accomplish dis
tant journeys through the atmosphere.
These ferial excursions which appear to re
sult from ah instinctive desire to migrate,
are undertaken when the weather is bright
and serene, particularly in autumn, and are
effected in the following manner. After
climbing to the summit of different objects,
they raise themselves still higher by strait
ening the limbs, then elevating the abdomen
by bringing it from the horizontal position
into one almost perpendicular, they emit
from the spinners a small quantity of viscid
fluid, which is drawn out into fine lineß by
the ascending current, occasioned by the
rarefaction of the air contiguous to the heat
ed ground. Against these lines the current
of rarefied air impinges, till the animals,
feeling themselves acted upon with sufficient
force, quit their hold of the objects on which
they stand and mount aloft. It is not ex
actly, a balloon filled with light air, which
they construct, hut it is upon the same prin
ciple that they are carried upwards.
Spiders do not always ascend into the at
mosphere by a vertical movement, hut are
observed to sail through it in various direc
tions, and the fact admits of an easy expla
nation, when the disturbances by which
that subtle medium is liable to be affected,
are taken into consideration. I have seen
them rise above the height of a tall board
fence and cross it, just as though they were
aple to guide their flying machine, which I
do not suppose is the fact, but the proximity
of the fence disturbed the course of the cur
rent and carried them upwards near it, and
When they got beyond its influence, another
Current conveyed them horizontally.
The manner in which the lines are carried
out from the spinners by currents of air ap
pears to be this. As a preparatory measure,
the spinning organs are brought into closer
contact, and viscid matter is emitted; they
are then separated by a lateral motion,
which extends the viscid matter into fila
ments; on these filaments the current im
pinges, drawing them out to a length which
is regulated by the will of the animal.
Spiders can forcibly propel or dart out
. es^ 0m the spinners, when in the open
a * r ’ turn the abdomen in the direction
° v*ii ” r ® e f e > an< l emit from their spinners
a little of their viscid secretion, which, be
ing earned out in a line by the current, be
comes connected with some object in the vi
cinity , over which they pass as upon a bridge.
We sometimes see them stretched even over
roads.
webs, named gossamer, are composed
ofhMß spun by spiders, which, in being
brought into contact by the mechanical ac
tion of gehtle airs, adhere together; till by
into?rr al dditio u n . s the J are accumulated
g E, lar white, flakes and. masses of
considerable magnitudes. These are often
seen in the morning in grasß or low shrub-
e .questions are answered,
and having spun .my silken yarn, I have be
oome so interested in these tittle creatures
that rflo not think I shall sweep down their
webs from tho rafters of mygarret for the