es mE I EH I RE noticed our visits and 1ad tracked Cram- mond, and the very next morning twenty more were close by us. Then others came till the camp. grew busy and a couple of Bellefonte, Pa., August 2, 190l. THE RIVER ROAD. Always the river road is green With grass that waves and trees that lean; Always the ferns grow thickest there, And fains prefumes fill the air; And little care I for the load If I may walk the river road. For rippling down a silver tide, The stately river floweth wide; And evermore its full cups be Borne onward to the brimming sea: And never shuts the sea its door, It woes the river evermore. 1 loiter near the river's bend, Across the loops a stone I send; The river turns and twists and strays, Much like a little child that plays; Now broad, now narrow, everywhere Serene and strong and deep and fair. Besides it lovers linger, fain To listen to its sweet refrain; And mothers sometimes sit and dream And watch the waters fade and gleam; Who will may rest from toil and task And in God’s blessed sunlight bask, If but they’ll bring the weary load, And walk beside the river road. — Margaret E. Sangster. EARLY DIAMONDS. stores were set up. so that there was no need to waste time in fetching provisions. beginning that we could not keep the se- cret long from the sharp eyes of many an- was to congratulate ourselves upon the good start we had had, and go on coilect- ing as well as we could. How that place grew and how well every one did! Quite a sheet-iron and canvas town began to spring up, and somehow in the effort to keep something like order, I found myself chosen, on account of my legal knowledge, as the one to settle pretty well all the disputes, and as there were plenty of good fellows who meant to stand against rowdyism, and ready to back me up, my word soon became law. Crammond did pot like it, and be was not above showing jealousy, but, as my brother Dick said, we did not care for he might go and hang. And so the tine went while we worked, fought those who wanted to have their own way and make the place a pandemoniam, stored up our diamonds, and waited for the time when the government would come up our road and relieve us of the responsiblity of keeping order. I never professed to understand doctor- ing, but when we went up from the Cape upon our long wanderings I took the pre- caution of providing myself with a few medicaments sufficient for our own use, and it naturally fell about that as we were Safe enough now in the towns with the a hundred miles from a doctor, I helped police and watchful care taken. Besides | no fellow with pills, another with chlo- things are so altered since then. Where | 1o3ne and staved off fever in several cases men went in pairs or some half dozen to- | with doses of quinine. gether hunting diamonds with a pick and A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, shovel,yon have great companies with their | ..00 the proverb, and I dare say in m hundreds or thousands of workpeople, black ys a or would have ih nd as well as white, electric light, steam |; Bug I never found it so, and I know engines, trams and miles of underground | 41.1 oT was cautions I did a deal of good, workings. the consequence being that unsought ‘and It was a curious case. I was out there | 4; wished for, I found myself besieged and working likea nigger along with about a | 1.4 to get quite a little store of simple dozen parties, suffering from the doubl © | medicines, while in those days, if anyone thirst of want of water in the day time, and | j.3 heen rash enough to assert that I was of more diamonds at night. not a good doctor he would have got into They all had the same complaint, and | sarions trouble with my many grateful we were toiling away so as to get a little | jagionge fortune out of the diamondiferous soil be- fore it was farther known, and there was a rush. ‘It was bad enough as it was, and getting One day Crammond came to my tent. “Wish you'd come on and see Wilson,” he said; ‘‘he’s down with fever, I think.” “All right, Ill come on,’’ I said, and I worse week by week. When I and my | gollowed him to his quarters, and found brother first lit upon the place we found | wilson with his pulse jumping away nine- only two there. Wilson and Crammond, teen to the dozen. I knew enough to see with their bit of a tent, and very sour they | that he was in a bad way, but it was your seemed, when we came upon them, just | jumble servant for doctor or none at all, after I had literally kicked up a diamond | 5,,q T get to work doing all I knew, with worth at least twenty pounds. My brother was with me, and when w walked up to them Crammond nodded with scowling look, and asked if we were going prospecting farther on. the result that by degrees the delirium left © | him, and he began to know me, but he was weak as any rat. I was a good deal puzzled over his symp- toms for they were fresh to me, but my ‘Because if you are,” he said, ‘and find | yreatment did him good, and sometimes I a decent spot, and will do the right thing, grew hopeful. but only for my hopes to be one of yon come back and fetch us; we’ll | qached again, for the poor fellow fluet- back you up, make a little company of it, and keep it to ourselves, dodging so as to keep away a rush.’’ “I'm willing,” I said, quietly, ‘‘bu why not do it here?’ ‘‘Here ?”’ he said with a laugh. that, Jack? You may slave as long Aly cosh what it Yiight 1 like and you’ll do no good here. going to try for another day or two, and then going somewhere else.” “More fool you,” I said, looking him ‘Better do as we do, straight in the eyes. and stop here.” He looked as if he would like to take out the revolver he wore, and tried to star me down. . “‘Let’s get on,” said my brother in a whisper. “‘No,’’ I said, ‘‘this place will do.” ‘‘Look here,’’ said our friend. ‘‘I’m not We settled going to stand any nonsense. “Hear sadly. uated terribly. “You’ll pull him through, won’t you ?”’ ¢ | said my brother. : “I begin to be afraid not, Dick,’’ I said, “] wish to heaven Crammond would get a regular doctor up for him, “Why don’t you tell him so?’’ he said. “I have, over and over again.”’ ‘What did he say ?”’ “Bosh ! If vou can’t put him right, vo- body ‘can !’ “Thaf’s bad. Tell poor Wilson your- golf.” “I dare not,”’ Isaid. ‘It would have such a lowering effect upon his spirits. I want to talk to him more alone, but Cram- mond is always with him. “That’s bad, too,’’ said Dick. “Why do you say that?’ I. asked, down here, and we're not going to take a sharply. pack of loafers squatting close to us, so if|- you two want to keep whole skins you’d 2” There’s room enough for all.” ‘You're a cursed fool,”’ cried Cram- mond. ‘‘Perhaps so, but I can play fair,’’ cried Then, turning to me, ‘look : here, sir, it is a good place, and ‘you two | daren’t speak before him. the other. . ‘‘Be guiet, Crammond,’’ said the other, ‘‘they’ve as good a right here as we have. “Because I’ve been several times to sit with the poor fellow, and Crammond will never leave us together. Isay it’s awful for a poor fellow to be dying in this out- of-the-way place just when he has been successful. “‘Horrible,”” I assented, ‘‘You think they have done well?’ “‘T am sure of it,’’ said Dick, ‘but Cram- mond is as close as an oyster, and Wilson I thought once are as lucky as we are in finding it out.” that he wanted to confide in me.” *‘You idiot,” growled Crammond. I stared hard at my brother, and his “Be quiet, Sam,’ cried the other, and words set me thinking, and that evening he continued to us : you play fair. Take up your claim at a “All'we ask is that after going and seeing poor Wilson I thonght more as I saw his glaring, sunken decent distance, and help us to keep the | % his hollow cheeks, and the piteous place snug so as to get all we can before the rush.” ‘‘Agreed,’”’ I said. done ?”’ ‘Very fairly.’ ‘How have you wistfal look he gave me as if he wanted to say something, but could not because his partner was there watching us intently. ‘‘Better to-night, isn’t he?’’ said Cram- mond; but I did not answer his question, ““Then it won’t be right to ask to start | and walked away to go back to my tent with you,’’ I said. and light my pipe and think, wishing the ‘‘No,”” he replied, ‘‘work for yourselves. while that I had a hundred times the We'll work for ourselves, and all take it knowledge I possessed, while my brother in turns to tramp back to get the prog. | lay fast asleep in his bunk. There’s a water-hole just at the back of that kopje; so now we’ll start fair.”’ Then in the silence and darkness my brain grew very busy. I knew that the We did. My brother and I found a nook | poor fellow was getting worse, for though under the great granite cliff, and after con . | one day my treatment stopped the horri- gratulating ourselves upon our luck, and | ble pain and loss which was weakening comparing our present quarters with my | him so fearfully, the next he was bad as chambers in Middle Temple Lane, where I | ver again, and then all of a sudden I drop- could get no briefs and seemed likely to [ ped my pipe and started so sharply that starve, we fell asleep under the cool Aftic | my brother woke up. atar-spangled heavens, and enjoyed a thor- ough restful night. ‘Hullo I”? he said, ‘not in bed. Didn't hear you come back. How’s poor Wil- For two months we four worked away | on 2” there, getting diamonds at a wonderful rate, and taking it in turns to tramp to the *‘Bad as bad can be. He's dying.” “Poor old chap. I say, I was down with nearest settlement to buy food—and pre- | Some of the fellows to-night while you bad cious dear it was. But we did not mind Crammond and his partner, who were gone there, and they were talking about him. Someone has been saying that you friendly enough now, were doing wonder- | don’t understand the case, and that you tally, as Wilson more than once hinted, | are killing the poor fellow.’ while my brother and I saw a fortune to take back to London at the end of a : year or two, and worked like slaves. _Iliked Wilson, and my brother took. to him as well, for he was a gentleman, though | 1 he never opened out about his early life But that was nothing to us. “Who said that ?”’ I cried. “From what I conld make out it must have been Crammiond.”’ “‘Crammond it was, Dick,’ I cried tierce- ; “and he’s a cursed villain.’’ .| ~ “Well he does look it.”’ assented my brother;: ‘But I suppose they are about One day we had been literally broiling | right—you don’t thoroughly understand there, the sun being reflected from the | what is the matter ?’’ ¢ great granite cliffs in a way that would ‘Yes, I do,” I cried fiercely. ‘Wilson have been unbearable if it had not been for | is being slowly poisoned, and when he dies the diamonds which we kept on adding to | I am to get the credit of badly treating those in our leather bag. Crammond had | him.” stele to take his turn to fetch necessaries, and **Bosh, ‘old man. What cook-and-bull just before sunset he came back to camp | nonsense have you got in your head ?”’ toiling under his load, and threw it down swearing that he would do it no more. ~ ‘“We must get a nigger,”’ he growled ‘‘and send Jim} : ‘And lel are,” 1 said. ‘everybody know where we ‘No, I'd sooner do all the “What seems to me almost like a reve- lation. Took here, Dick, they must have , | a big heap of diamonds buried under their tent’? up ‘No doubt.”” “Crammond found his partner turn ill, carrying mysélf. We've kept it secret so | and the temptation bas heen too strong for far, and it’s every man for himself.’ him. While I have been trying to pull Crammond nttered a fierce oath and | the poor fellow round he has been fighting snatched up his revolver to aim ata crouch ing figure fifty yards away, but I knocked up the weapon. (‘All over," said Wilson. hire as many Kaffirs as you like now Crammond, for we shall be rushed to-mor-| ‘I don’t care, row, Beiter mark oué our claims.”’ “You can - | against me.” ““To poison. him ?’’ “So that he may die,’’ I cried. nr 5 wv «1 erious to say are, | m sure of it,”’ I insist- ed. ‘“To-morrow morning if I find his ap- In one respect the game was up, for one | pearance confirms what I think, I'll call a of the men at the nearest diggings had | meeting and get the men to back me up. It was vexatious, but we knew from the | other diamond seeker, and all we d do | Crammond though we liked his partner, so |: ‘‘Oh, come, I say, old fellow, that’s a. T I'll have poor Wilson brought here and a committee shall take possession of their pile, and divide it, so that Wilson’s balf share shall be held by our best men for him. Crammond is playing a double game.” { ~ “Phew!” | whistled Dick. ‘‘But, I say, old lad, mind what you are doing. Cram- mond’s a dangerous chap.” : “So am I when my blood’s up,” I said sternly. ‘‘That man is a scoundrel I am sure, and poor Wilson is afraid of him now he is so bad. Yes, I'll bave matters put right to-morrow at any risk. As soon asl wake in the morning I'll go on there and p » . “And I’ll reload my revolver, and go with you, old man. Crammond shan’t shoot you in the back if I’m there.” He dropped off to sleep soon after, and I sat thinking till close upon daylight, when I lay down, and what seemed to me the next minute Dizk laid his hand upon my shoulder. : “‘Hadn’t you hetter wake up,old chap ?”’ he said. I started into wakefulness and sat up, staring. : “What is it?” “What time is it ?"’ “I don’t know. Getting on for noon, I should say.” “Great heavens!’ I cried, hurriedly, running out to the bucket which formed our toilet service. ‘‘You should have woke me up.”’ . “I didn’t wake myself,”’ he replied. ““You see, we sat up talking horrors all the night.”’ Ten minutes later we were on our way to the sick man’s tent. It was a glorious morning, and save at the store tents and shanties no one was about, the men being at their diggings, working away for dear life. ‘‘Seems hard for a young man to go out on a day like this,’’ said Dick, suddenly, as we made our way off to where the tent lay in rather a solitary spot, the fresh comers having picked their claims farther and farther away up toward the rocks. “Don’t talk,’”’ I said, huskily. ‘I am terribly late.’’ We looked round, saw no sign of him, replied my brother, ‘‘look yonder. Old Crammond don’t seem to be at the tent.” For a wonder he was not, his custom for the past fortnight having heen to hang about the tent door as if keeping guard over his partner. We looked round, saw no sign of him, and concluded that perhaps he was asleep, and upon entering the tent there he lay on one side soundly asleep, while poor Wil- son lay on the other. “Dead !”’ whispered Dick, as we paused at the entrance, and a sensation of misery and despair came over me, as I felt that perhaps a few hours earlier I might have saved him. I went in with the interior all in a soft glow, as the sun fell upon the canvas, and I bent over my patient, whose face looked terrible, when to my astonishment the eyes opened, glared at me, and then a look of recognition came into them. ‘““Thank God, you have come!’ he moaned. ‘‘What a night?” “I’ve come, and I’m not going to leave youn,”’ I said. ‘‘Look here, Wilson, I fully understand your case now, and I'm going to cure you, so try and hold up, man, an help me.” . ‘Yes,”” he said, feebly, and then he smiled, as my brother stood between us and Crammond ready to interpose the mo- ment he woke up and interfered. That he had been drinking was evident, for there was a bottle and a pannikin up- on a box close to the rough pallet on which he lay, apparently utterly stupefied by the fumes of the potent whisky sold at the store. ’ “Come, I like that,’’ I said. “You are certainly better this morning. I have come to have you carried up to my tent.” No,’ he said, feebly, ‘‘take him, Lis- ten,”’ he whispered as he got hold of my flannel shirt with his thin fingers : *‘I have been nearly sure of it for a week now, last night I crawled out of my bed and tried—"’ Ilaid my hand upon his head, but it was comparatively cool. “‘f know what I’m saying,’’ he whisper- ed, ‘‘and I’ve proved it.” ‘Proved what?” *‘He has heen poisoning me slowly for weeks now.” I started round to look at my hrother, and we faced the boards then upon which Crammond lay, but he did not stir. ‘‘He thought I should die from my ill- ness, but you were saving me, and then he began. It was for the diamonds. So many —I wouldn’t believe it, but it was always 80. The water tasted so. He gave it to nie, and it burned.” 3 Still Crammond did not stir: ‘‘But you would not let me die, and last night I saw him put something in the pannikin that he put by me so that I could drink in the night. He was tired of wait- ing, and he meant me to die. He did not know I was watching him, and as soon as he went out of the tent I thought 1 would try whether I was misjudging him.” I turned from the speaker to glance at my brother once more, and then Wilson went on. “I fainted as the first try, but I managed it at last. ‘I crawled to his side and chang- ed the pannikin, leaving mine on the box, Aud drapk half of his and crept back half ead. ‘“Then he came in and looked at me with a bottle in his hand, and as he went back to the box I felt ready to call out to him, but something seemed tosay ‘It is all your fancy,’ and I lay watching him as he pour- ed some whisky into his pannikin, drank, then poured in more, and drained the whole.” : My brother staggered to the door to get the fresh air, and Wilson went on. “All my fancy, I said to myself,” he whispered—*‘‘a sick man’s fancy. Poor old Crammond, he’s rough but true. Let him keep the diamonds. He said he would re- member my people at home. There he has been sleeping ever since,’’ continued Wil- son, with a meaning look. ‘‘You had bet- ter wake him now.” For a few moments I could not stir; then maki ng an effort I rose from where I knelt and crossed to where Crammond lay upon his face. Stone dead. A month later Wilson was about, rapid- ly growing strong, and he joined us in our tent, bringing with him the riches that they had earned by constant work. “Yours, old fellow,’”’ I said to him one evening when he was talking about them, ‘‘by all the rights of possession. There is no one to say nay.”’—By George Manville Penn in Evening Bulletin. I said, confusedly. A Curious Mine. One of the most curious mines that are worked is in Tonkin, China, where in a sand formation at a depth of from 14 to 20 feet there is a deposit of the stems of trees. The Chinese work this mine for the timber, which is found in good condition and is used in making coffins, troughs and for carving and other purposes. The Ways of Snakes. This Country is Well Stocked With a Goodly Supply of those Whose Bites Mean Almost Certain Death. Some of the Strange Ones. That snakes are rapidly increasing in value as a regular mercantile commodity is a fact'which may be unknown to the majority of persous, but is none the less trae, and while no signs of a snake trust have yet developed, the profits in the business of gathering and selling snakes are said to be considerable. Not only are large and perfect specimens of nearly every species of value to muse- ums and zoological gardens, but even the ordinary, everyday snake, from rattlers to garter snakes and water moceasins, have a value which is increasing. Rattlesnakes are particularly valuable, and a good specimen now will readily bring from $2 Qil which is taken from the smaller snakes is the chief product of value sought from reptiles nowadays, but the larger reptiles are sought after on account of the value of their skins as covering for pock- ethooks and card cases, now a fad in cer- tain sections of the country. Physicians also pay good prices for snakes and the study of poison secreted by certain rep- tiles is already an interesting science. Poisons are extracted from snakes by many doctors, and animals inoculated with the virus. The effects are then studied and it is hoped before long not only to discover an antidote for snake bite, but also to prove that snake virus is an antidote for certain diseases and affec- tions. When itis considered that Dr. Weir Mitchell, an author and well-known physician, has sometimes as mauy as 1,000 snakes in his laboratory at once. It can be seen that the demand of physicians for reptiles is apt to effect the price of scarce varieties, says the St. Louis ‘Republic’. The various musenms and zoological gardens are also heavy customers of those who traffic in snakes as a business. For various reasons poisonous snakes are much less common than they were at one time. Still, there are enough to make things interesting in many localities. In Western Texas ranchers’ families living in sod huts'look under the bed daily for prai- rie rattlers and only sleep secure under a mosquito net canopy. POISONOUS NATIVE SNAKES. The poisonous snakes of the United States are the rattler, copperhead, mocca- sin and coral snake. The first three be- long all to the same family—the cratali- dae, and their poisons, so far as known, are similiar. The coral or harlequin snake is found only in the South, and its venom very much resembles that of the deadly East India cobra. He is brightly band- ed, small, harmless looking, but very vi- cious. No certain remedy is known for the bite of any of these snakes. Whisky and strychnine, given in coses large enough often to produce convulsions, are usually most effective. Very much depends upon the constitution of the person bitten, and upon the portion of the body that the snake's fangs strike. In general, nine- tenths of the persons bitten by these snakes die. All this goes to prove, of course, that snake hunting is a real sport, inas- much as the hunted sometimes gets back at the hunter. A rattlesnake is fairly easy to capture because he is consummately brave, never runs from an enemy, and his warning rat- tle is unmistakable. Skirt the borders of a palmetto thicket any day and watch the wavering shadows of the foliage on the ground. Presently these shadows, if you watch sharply, seem to dart ahead in a straight line, with a brassy whirr coming from somewhere around. The darting line is a diamond-backed rattler, with curious- ly marked skin an exact imitation of the palmetto shade. The diamond-backed is the most deadly of his tribe. In the West the varieties of rattlers there found inhabit barren, rocky, places, and the tall grass of prairies. Just now the rattle- snake is hunted mercilessly, for he is valu- able to the medical man for his toxines and to the naturalist because out of the 11 varieties in the United States the habits and looks of not more than five are well known. In spite of their deadly poison, the huns- mg of venomous snakes is not any more dangerous than the hunting of boars, ti- gers or lions in India. The reason is that no snake, except the coral, is likely to at- tack without provocation. The danger to students of snakes is all in the familiarity bred by close acquaintance. ‘ HANDLING THE REPTILES. For example, less than a year ago; Prof. Percy Selouse, of Michigan, well-known naturalist and a cousin of the African ex- plorer and scientist of the same name, was killed by the bite of a pet moccasin. Prof. Selouse was in the habit of taking the snake to bed with bim on cold nights to keep it warm. One night he got up in the dark to put the snake back in its box, and accidently pinched the moccasin’s tail in the door. It turned on him and sunk its fangs into his flesh and he died four days afterward from the bite. Mr. Ditmar relates that one time he knocked a glass jar out of his office win- dow and broke it—the same jar in which a raitlesnake had been kept. In gathering up the broken pieces he cut his hand slightly. For weeks afterward his life was despaired of. His hand and arm from finger tip to shoulder is to-day a mass of terrible soars. A New York naturalist bitten by a coral snake in Florida, last year, died within 45 minutes. An attendant in the Smithsonian Insti- tute, Washington, ten years ago in trane- ferring a rattlesnake from one jar to. an- other, was bitten on the forefinger. Al- though every known remedy was applied, he barely escaped death. For eight years afterward, on the return of the season, the finger sloughed off to the bone. Two years ago a mysterions East India remedy was bronght to him from Rangoon, India, bya friend. At the first Soreness in the finger he applied the Indian herbs, and has twice escaped the annual plague. There are ground snakes, water snakes, sea snakes, burrowing snakes and tree snakes. But all sorts of them more or less infest each other’s chosen habitat. The highland moccasin, a ground snake of the purest type, can, upon occasion, swim as far and as fast as his congener, the water moceasin, although the water moccasin, after the manner of water snakes, wears his nostrils on the top of bis flat head. ‘A snake’s tail never dies until after sundown.’”” This is an article of rural faith. By way of re-enforcing it, it may be said that with some species of snakes, a severed head bites an hour or even two after cutting off, and further, that the headless body will often leap its own length if irritated. That is, not, however, quite so strange as that the leap is made toward the irritator—as though the body could still measure distance without eyes ears or brain. on NN SNAKES LAY EGGS. All spakes las eggs. Some snakes hatch out their eggs before depositing them. Thus there is a distinetion. The egg lay- ers are said to be oviparous, and other ovo- viviparous. Viper, indeed is derived from that repsile’s su: habit of pro- ducing its young alive. But no matter what the species, every snake egg as soon as formed begins to hatch. Thus it mat- ters little as to when or how they are ex- truded. Barring accident, there is very sure to be a fine brood of young snakes at a very early date. While the young snakes are very small the mother snake guards them vigilantly. Upon approach of iminent danger she opens her mouth and lets her young run. down ‘her throat. The fact was for a long time disputed and reckoned only rural fable. By a compar- ison, tabulation and verification of actual observations, extending to more than 100 Sases, it has been established beyond cav- il. Pythons brood their eggs arranging them in a pryamid, and winding themselves around the pyramid in a sort of Turk’s cap shape. This even is captivity. There, however, the eggs almost never hatch. The period of incubation is 50 odd days, throughout which the brooding python eats nothing, though she will drink thirst- ily of water or milk provided so that she may reach it without disturbing her folds. Viper eggs are commonly linked into a sort of chain, but not invariably. Other snakes sometimes lay linked eggs, but often single ones. The size of snake eggs is strictly proportionate to that of the species. Occasionally the snake shows at- tachment to her unhatched eggs, but com- monly she runsaway from them at the least hint of danger so long as they are merely eggs. Occasionally scattered eggs of the larger species have been picked up and set under barnyard hens—with the result that in a week or such matter there was a lively small wriggler in the nest to terrify beyond measure the unsuspecting fowl. A knot of water snakes swimming and playing in a clean limestone creek is a liberal education in gracious curves, and glinting color, especially water moccasins. They have copper-bronzed coats, with fine diamond-grained scales, and taper grace- fully toward both extremities. They are accounted poison snakes, but their shape make against is. COWARDLY SNAKES, The puff adder gets his name from his peculiar habit of inflating himself when angry. He is an impudent fellow, with a rusty black coat, pugnacious, especially in early spring. If you trespass upon his beat he will dart at you, swelling visibly, hissing loud and darting out his wick- ed-looking forked tongue. But he is, for all that, an arrant-coward, as blustering braggarts are apt to be. If you run he will chase vou, but if you stand your ground, or make a motion to strike him he shrinks one-half and scuttles off to the thickest cover. Still, he is not so queer as the glass snake or joint snake, of whom the book- men are still incredulous. He exists, for all that, not too plentifully, to be sure,but in responsible numbers, all along the his- toric parallel, 36 degrees 30 minutes. This is to say from the Carolina seaboard to the western edge of Arkansas and Missouri. If he extends farther West the fact has not been reported. He is brown, a sort of earth brown with a deep blacking brown stripe down the middle of his back. His coat is not scaly.. Instead it is glassy smooth. He has a perfectly flat, triangu- lar head, and runs with incredible swift- ness. It is almost idle to think of catching him in midsummer or autumn. The best time to observe his peculiar ways ig early spring just as the plow turns him out into a raw March world. At first he looks and acts like any tor- pid serpent. By and by, when the sun has a little enlivened him, nettle him with light blows from a keen switch, and watch what happens. At first he starts a bit, the second makes him squirm, the third sets him shivering throughout his length. Then he begins to think there must be something doing. The some- thing is to cast off a joint or so of himself, and scuttle away as best he can. If pursued he casts off other joints until only his head remains. The remnant is stout and thick. It bas need to be, since into it are crowded a full set of snake vitals. Once safe away the snake lies quiet in a bit of sunshine. Then, if there is no fuar- ther alarm, he crawls back seeking the fragments of himself. He seems to fol- low his own trail, no matter how devious, and as soon as he comes to a cast-off joint backs himself against it, and reattaches it. This keeps up until he is made whole. Evidently the reconstruction is an exhaust- ing process, as after it the reptile will lie perfectly still for hours, unless roughly disturbed. ” In all nature’s mechanism are few things more deft or better contrived than the provision for casting off these joints and picking them up again. The first of them, the tall tip, is, of course the small- est, At the break the end of it fits accu- rately within a projecting ring scale. There are further three small holes in the face of it to receive three small gristly projections from the other process... Every joint is the same. But at breaking apart they do not bleed. Indeed, there is no evidence of any sort of circulation. Yet circulation there must be, else the detach- able joints could not be nourished. There are from four to seven joints in the back of the snake, varying less, according to size than to habitat. Sometimes the joint snake reaches a length of six feet. But commonly he is less than three. Gambling. . The writer once spe nt a Saturday after noon in the study of a dignitary of the church while the ecclesiastic struggled in vain to frame an argument against gam- bling to be presented to the congregation on the morrow. He abandoned the at- tempt. Far be it from a literary journal to assert powers the possession of which the professionally religious are fain to dis- claim, yet with submission we even ven- ture to believe that at least one cogent and effective’ argument lies against all forms of gambling—one, namely, based on the truth that wealth, great or small, is a ru and therefore may not be put in risk. ! The moralist may declare that the gam- bler, gets, or at least wants to get, some- thing for nothing. Men will laugh. They know better. The winner gave his chance to lose for his winnings. For his losses the winner got his chance to win. But ask the speculator whether he would gamble | with trust funds held by him for orphans and then suggest to him the one great truth that is seizing hold of men’s con- science, the most hopefnl sign in these perplexed days of social unrest, that men ‘are trus of all that they call their own. ~—CQurrent Literature. BRL 25,000 Paid for Rare Birds’ Eggs. The finest ornithological collection in the world, owned by Harry G. Parker, of Rid- ley Park, near Philadelphia, was sold last week to John Lewis Clark, of New York City, for $25,000. The collection consists of 60,000 eggs, of almost every known species of birds, and 40,000 vests. With it goes a rich variety of stuffed birds, wolf, elk, moose, tiger and deer heads, together with many rare fishes and botanical speci- mens. The chief value of the collection is rep- resented in the eggs and nests. Mr. Parker has devoted almost thirty years of his life in collecting the eggs. Searching parties have explored the jangles of Africa and In- dia and the great swamps of Florida, and months of time have been expended in lo- cating a single egg of some rare bird. The eggs of the great Auk, the prize of the collection, is valued at $1800. It can- not be duplicated. The eggs of the Cali- fornia condor are worth $100 each. Many others range in value from $50 to $75. Every egg in the vast collection of 60,- 000 is perfect in shape and color. The most unique egg is that of the solitary sand piper, the only egg of this bird known to be in existence. The hardest part of the collection to se- cure was the full set of eggs of the white tailed kite which has its habitat in the swamps of Florida. The most attractive portion is the 400 nests and eggs of the humming bird. Many are beautifully spotted and colored ; others are snow white, and none are larger than a good-sized pea. A set of egg from every species of the golden eagle and fishhawk are among the notable specimens, since there are only two complete sets so far secured. Mr. Parker is an anthority on ornith- ology. He has contributed largely to the literature of the subject, and has given courses of lectures on his speciality in many of the leading institutions of sci- ence. _ Mr. Clark, the purchaser of the collec- tion, has now the largest and finest pri- vate museum in the world. Mr. Parker hired expert packers at $10 a day to pre- pare the collection for shipment. Not a single egg was broken. It required four freight cars to hold all the cabinets. How to Save Road Tax. New Law Which Provides Both a Rebate and Penalty for Farmers. An act of the recent legislature, designed to secure the more general introduction of broad tired wagons, has received the sanc- tion of Governor Stone and thus becomes a law. It provides that every person who shall make affidavit that he has owned and used exclusively during the preceding year, in bauling 2,000 pounds or more on the public roads of the state, wagons with tires not less than four inches wide, shall for each year after the passage of the said act, be credited by the supervisor of highways of the district in which such tax is levied, with one-fourth of the road tax levied on the property of such person. Tenants who in any way become liable for road taxes may also secure the benefits of this act by making the required affida- vit. Such credits shall not exceed to any person more than five days’ labor on the highways or its equivalent in cash. Sn- pervisors are authorized to administer such oaths. : The law also provides that any person who shall use on the public roads of the state, in hauling loads of 10,000 pounds or more, any wagon with tires less than four inches in width shall be liable to a fine of five dollars for each and every offense, which fines shall be recoverable in criminal proceedings instituted at the complaint of any person as the suit of the commonsvealth before any justice of the peace. Bananas the Breadfrult of the World. Bananas, probably the first fruit ever cultivated, possess all the essentials to the sustenance of life. More people live on bananas than live on wheat. When taken as n steady diet, they are cooked, either baked, boiled or fried. The fruit is very nourishing, as it contains so much starch and sugar. Banana flour is highly nutritious and very valuable. The farinaceous food is so prone to undergo malfermentation in the stomach when the normal digestion is dis- ordered that it becomes very important to seek some variety of starchy food which can be easily assimilated without the produne- tion of acid eructations of flatulence or heartburn. Therefore the flour has a de- cided advantage as a food for invalids. Thompson states that he has found that the finest banana flour, called ‘‘bananose,’’ at the end of 13 hours of pancreatic diges- tion was capable of developing twice as much sugar as the same quantity of oatmeal or farina and nearly 1} times as much sugar as cornstarch. me——————— Denmark Beats us at Butter Making. The butter of Denmark is considered superior to that of all other countries. If brings the highest price in fancy markets, and can be found all over the world in shops where luxuries are fold. In South America, South Africa, in the East and West Indies, in India, Egypt and in trop- ical countries generally it is used by epicures, who pay $1 a pound for it in tins of one, two and three pounds’ weight. No other country has been able to produce butter that will stand changes of climate so well. In Holland and Sweden attempts are made to compete with the Danish dairy- men, but the butter from these countries is worth only half as much and does not keep half as well, while the efforts of dairymen in the United States have practically failed with a few isolated exceptions. Where You Mustn’t Wear a High Hat. One of the incidents of the probable dis- ruption of the Austrian Empire at no dis- tant date, on the death of the present sov- ereign, for instance, is the antipathy of the Czechs to the high hat. To make your ap- pearance in certain parts of Bohemia in such headgear is distinctly dangerous. You will not only have it knocked off and tramped out of shape, but also stand a good chance of being knocked out of shape your- self. This hatred of the tall hat is due to thef act that it is more commonly worn in Vienna and other German portions of the Empire than outside Germanic Austria. The Czechs and the other races that make up the dominion of the Emperor Francis Joseph object to the predomination of the German and show their hatred by assailing the all that and, of course, in other ways. Her First Lesson. She was glancing over the new cook- book. : ‘Here is a splendid recipe, Arthur,’’ she said, moving over toward his chair. “Who is the author?” he asked, think- ing all the time that she was reading a novel. *‘Charlotte Russe. That is the name above the recipe.’”
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers