6tit jfamilis CittiT.
THE CANARY'S STORY.
I have a little mistreos,
Her name is Kitty Blair;
She always used to give me
The very best of care,
But now she has two dollies,
She never thinks of me,
And I'm just as much neglected
Asa little bird can be.
When I sing my very sweetest,
As I always try to do,
She covers up my cage, and says,
" Oh, what a great ado!
I'm sure I shall be deafened I"
Tnen she starts and runs away,
And 1 see no more of Kitty
Through all the weary day.
My bath is always empty now,
And I've very little seed;
When I've had a lump of sugar
'Twould be hard to tell, indeed.
My cage is quite untidy,',.
But Kitty , heeds it not;
And I call her, oh! how vainly—
For, alas, I am forgot.
I love the golden sunlight,
And I love the balmy air;
And the children's merry voices,
So blithe and free from care.
I know the trees are blossoming,
The flowers are all a-bloom ;
But oh ! I cannot see them
In this dull and darkened room
My•prison house is gilded,
It is grand and gloomy too;
Yet I might be happy, Kitty,
If you were kind and true.
Oh, put me in the window,
AS you did in days gone by,
And let me feel the sweet spring air,
And'see the soft blue sky.
I've trilled my sweetest melodies;
Alas 'tie all in vain.
I'll fold my head beneath my wing,
And never more complain.
My heart is broken, Kitty,
But I'll forgive you, dear;
I am sure you will be sorry
`And will shed for me a tear.
When Kitty heard this mournful strain,
Her heart was full of grief;
She left her dollies tben in haste,
And ran to
,his relief.
She put fresh paper on the floor,
And seed within the cup,
And water in the tiny bath,
Then took poor birdie up,—
And gently stroked his yellow wings,
And whispered words so low ;
I think he must have understood,
For this I surely know :
He opened wide his bright, blackieye,
Then on his perch he flew,
And poured such tide of melody
As mortal never knew.
A LITTLE HERO.
BY GRACE.GREENWOOD.
In the city of Hartford Connecticut, lives
the hero . of the true history I am about to
relate,—but no longer " little," as the peril
ous adventure, which made him for a time
famous in his native town, happened seve
ral years ago.
Onr hero was then a bright active boy of
fourteen,—the son of a mechanic. In the
severe winter of 18—, the father worked
in a factory, about a mile and a •half from
his home, and every day the boy carried
him his dinner, across a wide piece of mea
dow land.
One keen, frosty day, he found the snow
on this meadow nearly two feet deep, and
no traces of the little footpath remaining.
Yet he ran on as fast as possible, plunging
through drifts,—keeping himself warm by
vigorous exercises and brave, cheerful
thoughts.
When in the midst of the meadow, fully
half a mile from any honse, he suddenly
felt himself going down, down, down ! Be
had fallen into a well !
He sank down into the dark ice water,
but rose immediately to the surface. There
he grasped hold of a plank, which had fallen
into the well as he went down. One end
of this rested on the bottom of the, well,
the other rose about four feet above the
surface of the water.
The poor lad shouted for help until he
was hoarse, and almost speechless, but all in
vain, as it was impossible for him to . make
nimself heard from such a depth, and at
Such a distance from any house. So at last
be concluded that if he was to be saved at
all, he must save himself, and begin at once,
as he was getting extremely cold in the
water. So he woot to work.
First, he drew himself up the plank, and
braced himself against the top of it and
the wall of the well, which was of brick,
and quite smooth. Then he pulled off his
coat, and taking out his pocket-knife, cut
off his boots, that he might work to greater
advantage. Then, with his feet against
one side of the well, and his shoulder against
the other, he worked his way up, by the
most fearful exertion, about half the dis
tance to the top. Here he was 'obliged to
pause, take breath, and gather up his ener
gies for the work yet before him. Far
harder was it than all he had yet gone
through, for the side of. the well being from
that point completely covered with ice,
he must cut with his knife, grasping places
for his fingers, slowly and Carefully all the
wa in was
it was almost a hopeless attempt, but it
was all that he could do. And here the
little hero lifted up his heart to God, and
prayed fervently for help, tearing he could
never get out alone.
Doubtless the Lord heard his voice, calling
frem the deeps, and pitied him. He wrought
no miracle to save him, but breathed into
his heart a yet larger measure of calmness
and courage, strengthening him to work
tut his owu deliverance. It is 4n this way
that God oftenest answers our prayers,
when we tall upon him. in time of trouble.
After this, the little hero cut his way up
ward, inch by inch. His wet stockings
froze to the ice and kept his feet from slip
ping, but his shirt was quite worn from his
shoulders ere ho reached the top.
He did reach it at last,—crawled out into
the snow, and lay down for a moment to
rest, panting out his breath in little white
clouds on the clear frosty air.
He had been two hours and a half in the
well!
His clothes soon froze to his body, but he
no longer suffered with the cold, as full of
joy and thankfulness, he ran to the factory,
Where his good father was waiting and
wondering.
I know' a little girl who has two faces.
When she is dress , d up inler white dress
and blue,sash, and:has on her Line kid shoes,
and around her neck a string Of, pearl ben,ds,
then she looks so sweet and good that you
would wish to kiss her. '
- - - - , .
For she knows tbat cOmpartx is going to
call on her mother ; and she aspects that
the ladies will say, "• What a little darling,!„',
or, " What - lovely curls!" or, What . a
sweet mouth !;''and'then kiss her little 'red'
lips, and perhaps give her some-sugar
plums.
And the ladies who praise iler, think she
'is very lady-like, too. For she always says,
" Yes, ma'am," and " No, ma'am," when she"-
ought, and says, " Thank you," so sweetly,
when anything is given her.
But when she is alone with her mother,
then she is sometimes very naughty. If
she cannot have what she would like, or
cannot do just, as she wishes then she• will
pout, and cry, and scream; and no one
would ever think of kissing such homely
lips.
And no one would think her to be the same
little girl who behaved so prettily in eons
panSo; y. ,
you see, this littleigirl has twcifaces.
One she uses in company, and puts on with
her best dr'ess', the other she wears when
she is alone•with her, mother.
I know another little girl who bas only
one face ; and that is always as sweet as a
peach, and never' so sweet as when alone
with mamma.
Which little girl.do you like best? The
one with two faces, or the other, who has
but one ? And which 'Will you be like ?
The _Nursery. ' ' :r
My name is Anthony, hunt I - am a
drover, and I live miles and miles away upon
the western prairie. There wasn'.t a home
within sight when we moved thcre; my wife
and I, and now we haven't many neighbors,
though those we have are good 'ones.
One day, about ten,years ago, I went away
from home to sell some fifty head of cattle--
fine creatures as ever I saw. I. was to buy
some groceries and dry goods before I came
bac,k, and above all, a doll, for,our.youngest
Dolly. She had never had a 'store Aell'ef
her own, only the rag babies her mother had
made her. -
Ihdepen4nt
Dolly could talk of nothing else, arid
went down to the very gate to call after me
to "buy a big one." Nobody but "parent'
could understand how full my mind was of
that toy, and how, when the cattle were sold,,
the first thing I hurried off' to bay DOly'si
doll. I found a large one, with , eyes ' that
would open and shut when you pulled a wire,
and had it
,wrapped in paper and tacked-it
under my arm while I had the parcbls
calico and delaine and tea and sugar pueap:
Then, late as it was, I started for home. It'
might have been more prudent ta - staY
morning, but I felt anxious to get back, and
eager to, hear Dolly prattle about her toy.
I was mounted on, a. stead Y-going old
horse of mine, and pretty well loaded, Night
set in before I was a mile away from town,
and settled down dark as pitclk.while I was
in the middle of. the wildest bit of road
knoW of. h could haire felt my way, though,
rem ember -It so and it, :was. almost
nine when the`storm that had been brewing
broke, and pelted the rain in torrents, five
miles or, may be, six, from home yet, too.
I rode as fast as I could, but all of a sud
den I . heard a little cry like a child's voice,!
I stopped short and listened—l heard it
again. I called and it answered me. I.
couldn't see a thing; all was dark as pitch.
I got down and felt about the grass—called
again, and, again was answered. Then I
began to wonder. I'm not timid„but I was
known to be a drover and to-liave money
about me. It might be a trap to catch 'me
unawares and rob And murder m 9 . ,,
I'm not superstitious—not. frery; But
how could a real child be out on the prairie
in such a night, and at such an hour ? It
might be more than human.
The bit of a coward that hides itself in
most men showed itself to me then, and I
was half inclined to run away, but once
more I heard that cry, and said I;• " If any
man's child is hereabouts, Anthony Hunt is
not the man to let it die."
I searched again. At last I bethought
me of a hollow under th hill, and groping
that way, sure enough, I found a little drip
ping thing that moaned and sobbed 'as I
took it in my arms. I called my horse, and
the beast came to me, and I mounted, and
tucked the little soaked thing ' under my
coat as well as I could, promising to take it
home to mammy. It seemed tired to death,
and pretty soon cried itself to sleep against
my bosom.'
It had slept there over an hour when I
saw my own windows. There were bright
lights in them, and I supposed my wife had
THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN, THURSDAY, JULY 22, 1869.
TWO FACES,
THE DROVER'S sma.
lit them for my sake, but when I had got
into the door yard I saw something was the
matter, and stood still with a dead fear at
heart, five minutes before I could lift the
latch. At last I did it, and saw my room
full of neighbors, and my wife amidst them
weeping.
When sic saw me she hid her face. " Oh,
don't tell him," she said, "it will kill him."
" What is it, neighbors ?" I cried.
And one said, "Nothing now, I hope—
what's that in your arms ?"
" A poor, lost child,"
~said I. "I found
it on the road. Take it, will you,l've
turned faint," and I lifted up, the sleping
thing and saw the face of my own child, my
little Dolly.
It was my darling, and none other, that I
had picked up on the drenched road.
My little child had wandered out to meet
" daddy" and the doll, .while her mother
was at work, and whom they were lamenting
as'one dead. I thanked heaven on my knees'
before them all,. It is not much of a story;
neighbors
,b;ot think of it often in the
'
nights and wonderr how I could bear to live
now if .I had not stepped when I heard the
.cry for help.upon--tbe road, the little baby's
icry, hardly louder than a squirrel's chirp.
That's Dolly yonder with her mother in
the meadow, a, girl worth saving,---I think,
(but then, I'm her father ; and partial, may-
- be)—the prettiest . and sweetest thing this
side of the blississippi:--N. Y Obseriver.
ORIENTAL CUSTOMS.
A knowledge' of the customs and habits of
Eastern nations sheds light and beauty on
many passages of Scripture which:otherwise
are to us dark and unmeaning. The Psalmist
wrote: "Though ye have Is,in among the pots,
yet shall ye be as the wings of a dove covered
with silver, and' her ,feathers. with yellow
gold." Ps. lsviii. 13. A lady, travelling in
Egypt. writes thus of the houses' of the pa r
tives : The roofs are usually in , a great
state of litter, and, were it not that an oc
ctisiOnal clearance is Made - they would as
suredly give why tinder the accumulation of
rubbish. One tiling seems never cleared'
away,,however, and that is the heap of, old,
broken -pitchers, shreds, and pots that' are
vim. up in some corner; and here there - is a
curious`remark to be made., A little before„
sunset, numberi of pigeons itidder# emerge`
Noir behindvahle pitehers and l otlier rtibbish,
where they have been sleeping - in the 'heat
of the day, or , pecking 'About to finefood!'
They dart upward, ari:d . dateer thiongh the
air in large circles, their 'outspread wings
catching the bright gloW of the sun's Slanting
rays, so that they really resemble shining
'yellow gold.' Then, as they wheel
and are seen against the they iPpeir ,
BB if' turned' into molten"silver,; most of them,
being pare white, or efse very light:colored.
This may' Seem fanciful, bat the effect'of
light in these regions can hardly be'described
to.-those who have not seen it. 'Evening ,
after evening we watched the cirelingAight
of the doves, and, always observed the same
appearance." • '
•
TAKE CARE OF 'THE RODY.
The best place for the summer for all the
hard-working, thin-faced, and jaded New
Yorkers is the country; and the beet part
of the country, in our, judgment, is New,
England. Ne*port is a good place, and Aso
is, Nahant and so is Long Branch and so
are many other places of ..fashionable resort.
But if good health and not fashion, strength
of bone and muscle and display, rest and
sleep and. not high life and' riot,, and a real
change of air are wanted, we say to New
Yorkers, go back from the sea,coast,give
wide berth to all popular, watering-places,
and go into some'quiet country town, 'with
all your family. For ,once in your life take
some thought for the body, for "the house
you live inr and lay; up for three months
or more for repairs. .Polly, Sally, and dear
fifteen-year old Sam may, raise some
,slight
objections to such a course; for they would
have little use:there for silks, and grenadines,
kids *Ad broadcloth. But never mind ; ; give
them for once a taste, of
,such good things,
and they will beCome reconciled to this
sensible policy. ;If people who live in the
country the,yereround need relaxation and
restqand they do), they should go to the
sea-shore, or, in the winter (the healthy
season),.to New, York. This would be, for
such, a pleasant and healthful' change-dust
what they require. What is necessary, for
all occasionally, in city or country, is, a
change. Monotony may do for dumb beasts;
but we don't b,elieve that human beings,
with living, souls, can thrive, grow, better,
stronger, and richer without ,that change
which will feed and properly,satisfy the eye,
the ear, the nose, the nerves, and every
organ' of the whole body., A human' bectst,
it.is true; may 'keep fat if stalled and fed in
some solitary retreat;, ; but his,higher facul
ties will show' their ribs, and famish for nu r
triment. The-more people mingle together
from country and city, for proper relaxa
tion from over-work, the more they know
of each other's eircurnstances, burdens, trials,
and wants, the wiser, better, and : nealthier
too they will 'become. - We therefore vote
for railroads, steamboats, and ,stages,, for,
holidays, celebrations,, ,and jubilees, for
singing-birds" On iiving, trecs, and living
flowers in real gardens, for fields and forests,
fountains and parks, for city, and for country,
and especially for. country friends—Y . or all
that is beautiful in Nature and all that is
beautiful in art. We vote, for an intimate
acquaintanceship with the works of God
in the country, as well as with the works of
man in the city.;
Every single faculty has rights , which
every other faculty is, bound to respect ;
and respect must lie given, or there will be
a rebellion. We , = don't believe an:, eye re
bellion or in eat ;rebellion; in taste rebellion
or in month rehellion, in nose rebellion, or
in nerve rebellion, or in rebellion anywhere,
except in Cuba and other bad places. The
facultie4, all of them, must be treated fairly.
Tuere must be uo wicked partiality. God
has made them all for use and not for the
shelf, or for riot on a rainy day. Let them
all, therefore, at propel' seasons, be put to
service, or they will raise the mischief, be
dwarfed, and finally die. The whole body
and mind, at times, must have relaxation.
"All•work and no play" will not do for the
fernier or merchant, the lawyer or doctor,
the editor or mechanic, the mother or
daughter, the minister or saint. All play
and no work will not do either for the mil
lionaire or Miss Flora McFlimey, for the
retired banker or
.the fortunate , speculator.
There mirst, at times, be sweat on,the brow,
or richerai will prove a canker,or a millstone.
But we are just now talking to New
Yorkers, most of whom-.are, sensible on all
matters except such as pertain. to, their
bodily health. They don't believe in mis
using horses or other dumb beasts. The
nieanest animal (except the turtle) must! be
humanely treated,:or.a, certain humane offi
cial will'be after them severely. Now will
you residents of the great city, for once
thiA Of yourselves, of your ailments,and
infitinities, of yoti headaches and your.rheu
matiam; of your gout and yourieannesei, of
yoUi liver and ,your lungs, and ,d.eeide
whether'you would bey any beast whatever,
for use'Or pleasure, with such a poor,,rickety
body a,s yours ? if not, .go immediately
into the country and lay,up for repairs, as
I have donp.—lndependent
The Astronomer-Royal of Scotland; J. Pi- -
azzi Stnith,, after months of the most assidu
ous measurements, repeated againand:again•
and with the best instruments,-by, himself
and his wife, and their assistants, alleges
that the folle*ing facts are :patent and de
monstrahle to-day to any scientific investi
gator :,
1. That, the great Pyramid, which 'the
'traditions of eastern - nations connects mith
Seth, is perfectly plain and devoid of all those.
carvings and ornaments with which , the'
Egyptian§ delighted to decotate their toinbsii
that it is provided-with:a thorough-system»
of ve,ntilation, quite unneeessarytonthe corn- .
mon suppoeitibn.that itwasfsimply.tha tomb
of a king; , that the passages Leading to) the
Great Chamber , areilitect (with; white stoner
as' it led 'Mad to:the , diacoverrof its icontents;
that itr ; of a' different :coristauction froth .all
'other"tomb's, having the sthallestdoor,:forty ,
one by' forty-seven , inches, 'to , the largest
"building in:thamdild;. and that these, fadts
show that it -was not builtEmeri3lyiforywhn ,
rial plane l 'a;ft Egyptologists,allege. !
2. That while the Mass of the Pyrithidiis
' "pretty good, sto'ne;tand : excellent:
inasbnif,' - ',litid in horizontal courries;ithe,en
iranh,h stonemuch harder
and finer; Cemented with - ,finer cement, and•
with j • oints 'ground' so truly ? , and fitted so
closely _film* an -axial line;thatathe , point- of
penknife'eannot be inserted between them;
and that entrance - passage has , been laid
`not hbrUontally, but at.snctra vertical angle
and such an azimuth, as tolpoint exactly to
} the star a Draconis, when ;was *tithe low:
'est point of'its daily circle akottndithe:Pole,
in the year 'when that star's 'distance. from
the Pole'amounted to. only> three degrees,
forty-two minutes; that the Great Valley of
the' Pyramid rises again with an, angle,' and
with its seven over-tappings`: points ,to the
precise spot in the heaventi in which the con
stellation of the Pleiades—called in the. B
ible the "pivot," .and supposed..by modern
astronomers to be the centre of the revolu
tion emir sun and the.other stars of our.
firmament—stood ,at = midnight of the au
trimnaf equinox in the year B. C. 2170, the
same year in which a Draconis was three
degrees, flirty-two thinuteadistant from the,
Pole; that neither. of these stars has been in
the same,position since, nor , will. a Draconis
again be in line with the:Pyramid a passage.'
until a cycle of over 25,000 years.
self; and that these Pyramid; builders under-,
stood accurately the Precession of the Equi
noxes—one of the most difficult problems• of
agronomy.
3. That the .verticall eight of } the. Great
Pyramid is to the length of the.four sides, as
the radius to the circumference of the circle;
and that the size has been so rproportioned
as' to indicate the annual number of the
earth's rotations on its' axis, in terms of' a
certain unit of linear measures, whereof the
precise round number of 10,000,000 measures,
the semr-axis of rotation : this unit of length
was the sacred:6l3A of the. Hebrews, differ
ent from the cubit,o,f the Egyptians and'all
other nations, but identical upon diVision by
the square of the Pj;-ramid number five by
. five, with the, inches of our'Anglo-Saxon
ancestors, 'and to, the present inch to within
one-thousandth part. lt is unnecessary to
indicate to the scientific reader 'the signifi-
Canoe of this discovery, or to contrast it with
the attempt of the French =academy to es
tablish a metric, system on an arc of the
earth's circumference, erroneouslymeasured.
4 That a certain h i ollOw, empty, lidless
stone in'the centre khember of the Great Pyr
amid, well adapted from its box-like shape
to be a standard • measure of capacity, mea
sures precisely the contents of one laver, or
four homers of the Hebrews, and also of one
ch alder, or four ,quarters,,of the Anglo-Saxon,
to such a `nicety that the present quarter's
by which the British farmer sells his Wheat
in Mark Lane, and which have nothin(cor
responding to them in existing ,metrogy,
are accurate fourth-parts or quarters 'of , the
contents of' the sabred coffer in the Pyramid,
and also of' the 'of the dovenant, which
was, precisely of 'the same size.=-Princeton
Review.
The, meanest are, mighty. with God, the
mightiest mean without him.
Like the inn pf, Bethlehem given to lodge
meaner guests,,a heart fall of pride has no
chamber within, which christ may be born
in ns the hope of glory."
BUDGET OP ANECDOTES
—One day, upon removing some book:, at ‹i r
William Jones's chambers, a large spid er d r ,.
ped upon the floor, upon which Sir William, wi d,
some warmth, called out to his friend D.ll
- Kill that spider, Day ! kill that spider
"No" said Day, coolly, "I will not kill that
spider, Jones. I do not know that I have a
right to kill that spider. Suppose, when you
are going in your coach to Westminster nail, a
superior being, who may, have as lu nc h
power over: you as you have over this insect,
should say-to his companion, Kill that lawyer !
kill that lawyer !" hoiv would you like that,
Jones ? And .I am sure that to most people a
lawyer is a more noxious animal 'than a spider."
—Rev. Dr. the genial and accomplish_
ed pastor of.. the ' Unitiariag " Church of the
Messiah," is noir 'the " court preacher" o n
oc
casions. &Feely tti living man of letters is to
be lauded; or's 'dead Man's fame to be decorated,
without Dr having a, hand in it.
witty wag IM.s startetra good story at his expense,
and says that in 'a
dream hp.sa i w Dr. 0 --t-meet
St. Paul 'in 'the celestial w4rld. The polite Uni
tarian approached' hint' in .a very patronizin g
style, and said Ab,! : thjs is the Apostle Pad,
is it'? Well, Paul, I'm' right, glad to meet yo u ,
ritsed to say a good word of you very often down
in the chui.ch• of the Messiah." A still better
story is told in regard' to the Unitarian Dr. P
—, who, Meeting old Dr, Johnson, the Epis
copalian, and the Kev.'Dk. Storrs, on the ferry
boat, came up and ldid his hand' on the shoulders
of each, " Here," 'said Dr. F—, looking at
Dr. JohnsOn, "is the Old Testament ;" and the n
lOoking at Dr. Storrs, is the .New Testa
'Meet." "Yes," replied father Johnson to the
Unitarian, "and here comes titl e 'Apocr,ypl ia
right in between then."—br Ouyler in The
Presbyterian "
—A preacher in a • frontier. settlement had been
collebting,money•fay soMe:church object.. There
was still.some $2O, wanting f iand after vain efforts
tomake up ,the;deficiency, he plainly intimated,
as he locked the , church, door onetday after ser
vice, tbat. he intended ,tolave, thatliaid $2O be
st-bre any of them left the house. At the same
time he set the example ,brtossing $5 'on the
table.. 4.;nother,rput, down diAlar," another half
t of,tit'clollar niictler, a quarte,
,a,dollar, and so
The parson read out ever now • and then
-thei stia ' l4 Thal sev'efi'and a half,
frieticle." •1` fie.Tftiairs :and' 3 1i quarter."
Teo andrsix,lbits -are.fall.:thel..&e.".ill the hat,
fries ds...,ana ; Kristian :, :.brethren."; 1 , Slowly it
,mehnted u
,%`.Twelve, and ,a .14alf:" " Four
tem*" l '! Sixtee n and, three bits,"
'and so CM' Wntil i it !ifnek - at " 4 'lt only
'wants fifty Cents,' fiiefidt,
Will nobddy •maite ita up re , - -Everybody had
,subscribed,,auddtot a emit. mute, was. forthcoming.
Silence reigned, and how, leng , it , ..mjght have
lasted« it is to, say ;
itaA ridea tor dollar
been paiied.thisOngli the 'operi*iridi4,...and a rough
emplanaroryrioice- shouted : "Heret,'lrarsorr, there
is•yanr,,moneyiletynut> my gal: Ll!m abnut tired
of waitin'.for• ?
her
-
;promising' p'oung shaver of five or six
years was reading his lesson at school one day,
in the deliherate manner for which urchins of
that!age are IMmeerhat! remarkable: As he pro•
ceeded with his task he came upon the passage,
"Keep „thy tongue and I thy lips from
Master. 11Opeful &aided *out " Keep
—thy tongue from,-evil-aud--thy —lips—
froit—girls." •
SPIEV,TIFIO
as been ~cotnputed, that were all the
4artergy exerted during, 24 hours .by, the heart in
propelling the blood to be oondeesed into a single
effort, it would have power .)eitioug,h to throw a
ton of irow.l2o,feet into the
. ,
Norwegian‘pirtable kitatens might be
profitably introduced into: this
.'country. They
are, used for boiling meate, and consist simply of
a box lined with` which 'the kettle of
boiling
,water ' with the 'meat in HIS introduced.
The lox is then closed, - niad, being a most excel
lent non-conductor, the Cooking • will, go on for
hours with no fuel, as slarce any heat is lost. In
is recent trial a pint of ' water put in, boiling hot
at eight in the morning was 'still 'warm at six in
the evening. If is also' id excellent refrigerator.
—The Pall Mall Gazette says :it remarkable
discovery of ancient = human skeletons has been
made in Dordope,France, belonging to the mam
moth period of the. earliest ; quarternary, and of
such interest that the Frencli.Government have
sent • Mr. Lartet, the iclistiriguished palmontologist,
to make a feport.:.on:, the subject. He records
that the bones ofi five' skeletoria hate been dis
covered ;.:and that they belong to' some gigantic
race, whose limbs. both ,in Size and form must
have resembled those of the gorilla. But the
simian origin of . man must' not- be , inferred from
these analogies, ail the skulls, only.three of which
are perfect, afford testimony fatal to this theory,
having evidently contained- very voluminous
brains. The :skulls are now in the hands of a
committee of savants,,who are preparing an ex
haustive craniological report.
—The British Medical:Journal 'says the g round
on which stands Ismailia, an Egyptian town of
six thOusarur inhabitants, was but a few years
since a dry, sandy desert, on which rain was never
known to fall:" All is now transformed. The old,
dried-up basin of Lake Timsah has been again
filled with water from the Nile by a fresh water
panal. Trees, shrubs and plants of all descrip
tions grow rapidly wherever the soil is irrigated,
and the artificial oasis Widens fast. Accompany
ing this extraordinary transformation of the as
pect of the place there has been a corresponding
change in the climate. At the present time Is
during eight months the year, is pro
bably the healthiest spot in Northern Egypt.
The mean temperature from Jufie to September
is 95 degrees
,Fahrenheit; the four following
months T 4 degrees, and the four winter months
45 4legrees. Until two years ago" rain was un
knoln, but in twelve months ending in April last
there were actually fourteen day's on which rain
fell, and lately there fell a trernendbus shower of
rain—a phenomenon which the oldest Arab had
'never previotialy witnessed., Rain
,ceases to All
on a country deprived of forests or only falls
in violent Otorms. Here we see rain returning to
the' desert on restoring the trees.
==l