¥ B Beworra acpwan deere seer eee eed Bellefonte Pa. March 2, 1906. AA ASKED TO RESIGN. BY W., C. MARTIN, I knew the Rev. Thomas Tucker; knew and loved him well; I knew some things about him which he never deigned to tell. His joys he spoke of freely, and the kindnesses received, But I, who kew his very soul, some other things perceived : I saw him when burdens pressed him, Or grief or pain possessed him, And though he showed a cheerful tront, I never was deceived, His manner was agsinst him ; he was quiet and reserved, And seldom was accorded half the honor he deserved, He did not seek to advertise what in his life was best, Nor tell the world that all the graces dwelt with. in his breast, His people hardly knew him, And their devotion due him, Was never fully given,though at first it WAS Pro. fessed. The church around the corner always seemed to have the crowd. The preacher in that pulpit was a dashy man and loud. He dealt in cheap sensation, and he used the pronoun “I He made the people often laugh, and sometimes made them cry, And Tucker's people grumbled, They felt so greatly humbled, To have the other church receive the crowds that passed them by, He did a more abiding work than did the other man ; He built a far more stable church than such & preacher can, But this could not atone for lack of raciness and show. His deacons talked the matter over, said he was “too slow," And each with each contended, His usefulness was ended, And then they plainly told him that they wanted him to go. And he received it meekly, just as though it were his due, Andof his grief and agony his people never knew, The breaking of his noble heart, such grief as his, such prayer They could not, had they known about it, com- prehend or share. Those weary nights unsleeping, Distress too deep for weeping, Were such as coarser natures are not called upon to hear, A thousand times he murmured, scarcely know- ing what he said : “Despised of men, rejected, it were setter to be dead, Despised, rejocted, not esteemed ; their faces turned away, A man of sorrows, and with grief acquainted night and day, O, Father, help me bear it, O, help me, help me bear it ! Forgive them, for they know not what they do,” I heard him pray. And when the people cast him out, this man who did not “draw,” 11 £ 5 2 § school drowsing over his weekly AewAPALer ; the | the sleepy bum of study ; the quiet of a sum- mer day ; the lowing of a cow in the mea- dow outside. There was the girl, her hair plaited in two long tails down her back, one tied with blue and one with red rib- bon. She was looking out of the corners of her eyes, alte ly at me and at the master, while she chewed a penciled note into a transmissible wad before flipping iv across to me. That note seemed to me to be the opening of my life. One by one, almost counting scenes in our child-life pasced in orderly and delib- erate succession before my mind’s eye, all the time the was falling, falling ; and all the time that grip at my throat seemed tightening, Hghtening. Ieaw the boy grow to youth, the girl into young womanhood. I saw the ever- increasing sympathy and affection between them. Isaw them on moonlight nights, walking bome from the country church ; 1 saw them on lale afternoons, rowing on the river and riding horseback a the pines. I saw them drift, drifs, on and on, until one afternoon the boy went to the father, and, after much circumlocation and needless verbosity, subject. Approached ; that was all ; then the boy went back down the lane with his mind filled with murder and suicide. I saw him pack his trunk, leave the home of his boyhood, and start life for him- self in the far West. Isaw him becomea miner ; after a while he staked out a claim of his own ; a little later he sold it fora modest fortune. And all the time the cartridge was fall- ing, falling. e boy returned to his native town. Late one Sanday afternoon he drove into the wood near her father’s home. He quietly sat down on a stump and lighted a cigarette. Iseemed to smell that cigarette ! The girl walked down the lane to the edge of the woods. Tue boy ran up the path and took her in his arms. He led ber to the buggy, and they drove ont of the wood together. I saw them in the West, as man and wife, their life full of hope, strength, faith. I over with them a thousand in- oidents of those happy years in their little home with their litsle child. And then I saw him make an unwise venture and lose all but his health, his energy, and his fam- ily. Isaw them start life again. I saw them in a modest cottage the boy had just begun to pay for. Isaw the boy reading to the girl at night. I saw them struggling with the quet‘ions no man can solve, and I recalled the night the boy and the gin were first struck in the face with the full force of the law of Chance! [ saw them as they lay awake all night, asking themselves : Can Chaoce and God live together in the same world ? Iz God Chance, or is Chance This man whose Christly graces they, unchrist- | God ? ly, never saw, The Father sent hisangels this, his servant, to sustain, And gave him grace to bear the thorn with all its galling pain, And Jesas whispered, ‘Brother, Remember how another Who came unto his own was also treated with disdain.” Bluffton Ind, —————————— CHANCE. msn, “Throw me that drill, Jim,” said the blacksmith to a fellow on tbe opposite side of the shaft. Jim picked it up and tossed it over to the speaker. [ looked venomous. ly at the murderous dullaids,a balf-formed idea in my mind sha it would be a charity to humanity to take the drill and orush in their miserable skulls with it ; bas I mere- ly pulled out my watch and time-hook, scribbled a line on each of two slips and inde one to the blacksmith and one to m. ‘Take these up to the offize, boys,” I said mildly. ‘‘We won't need you round bere any more,’’ and sticking a pros ug pick in my belt, [started down the per- ‘pendicular ladder in the wall of the abafs, cursing the stupidity of men in general and of miners in particular. Not six weeks hefore a miner had vio- lated the simple rule about passing tools across the shaft ; a bammer dropped in, and we paid $10,000 to the widow of one of the men who bad been at work below. Reflecting that I would start a training school for fool-killers as soon as I had mon- ey enough, I reached the end of the ladder after a somewhat tedious descent and step- ped down on a large ledge of rock which was about a hundred fees below the surface. I paused a moments to look about me. The vein had ‘faulted’ at this point, about four feet, and having been found after some difficulty, the three-foos ledge of rock on which I stood had been lefs stand- ing temporarily while she recovered vein had been opened for some twelve feet farther down. I scrambled into shis nar- rower ion of the shaft, and by the aid of ecting stones reached the bottom. Here there bad been trouble again, and I tarned on the eleotric light, buckied my waterproof coat tighter round my throat and started in, with the assistance of my pick, for a minute examination of the bet- tom and sides. An hour and a hall's work, and I thought I bad found a clew to the difficulty. About the same time, I came to the conclusion that it must be nesr the dinner bonr. nst the wall to resta noisg the laborious ascent, and mesbanioally looked up. As I did so, I distinctly heard the words : “Throw me that dynamite, Bill,” and a y. it was-~my death-warrant. Death ? Well, I should guess yes! Death alone ; Taught like a rat | Hopeless death ; awful The cartridge was falling near the wall of the shaft ; I measured its path with my The | have felt that she The cartridge was ball-way down. I recalled the details of an incideos I had met with once in a Western town. A cyclone had demolished the village. Death, destruction, butchery everywhere. For days later, a house, apparently uninjured, was entered by the relief corps for the first time. The back roof had fallen in on the bed where bad Iain the hustaond and wile. and on tho crib by sheir side where bad lain their histie etd. The obild and hos. band were dead; the mosther lay there still alive, both legs broken, and by hersidea two-daye-old dead baby. That was a Lively instance of what Brute Chance can do when he tries himself! It was u lovely illustration of the operation of the eterval un. d immutable laws of justice and compensation! Thas woman had come into the world through uo volitiou of her own, As she lay iu her cradle, she might well have said to these shout her: **You have hrought we here. Idid not ask you tolet me come. Lf is be true thas I am the result of nataial law existent in the world, then let that law protect me until I out the way [ bave come. You should not starve we; you shouid not brutalize me; you should pot subject me to torture of disease. Youn should deal with me kindly, fairly, | P® honorably so long as I deal with your other children kindly, lairly, honorably; and at last, when all is finished, you should allow ive:40 ins out quietly, peacefully, pain- ene MN a aie lay hopeless on her bed by she side of her dead busband and her dead child, did she think of those things? As she felt the crucilying pangs of child-hirth coming on her there alone, and after rack- ing hours of untold him the God of all the worlds was helpless? Did she say to herself, “There is no God but Chauvoe’'? : , When the Christ drank the last drop of the bitter cup which in Gethsemane He had ed might ass from Him if is wae h His 's will, He set the golden gobles gently down and faced the frightful and ignobe deni of the cross unfalteringly. kuew He should pas through those into His ET e knew was soon to be clas to thas bosom of boundless love, to hear those priceless words, **Well fate, W008 good and faithfal servant!” And He knew that through that death would pass influence of the lite He completed, and thas it y child of Mother Nature shows his kinship in his iuberited abhorrency of a vacuum, in bis batted of a useless shing; aod the bitterest th t that can come to though immeasurable tragedy of Chance! She must had soft , Br Chance, we even the Chaist had never suffered and that is had been in vain! As 1 remembered how the boy aud the girl bad clasped each other that night in an anspoken terior of what Chance might bave in store for them, some words of Royoe which the boy had once read to her cae vividly to my mind: saw another | chance ’ vision of the whole of my past life! I had beard of such a thing, but I had never rea- lized the literalness of is. Actually, in thas short space of time, I had lived my life over again, and bad brought it from childhood up to last night! And as I real- ized this, I realized that the cartridge was now scarce twenty feet above the ledge! Well, the end had come. Chance had wound it up! Through no fault of mine my life was to be blotted out; my wife left alone penniless at the mercy of a brutal world, to meet it as best she conld with her listle fatherless child. Knowing how inseparably her life was locked with mine, I looked forward down the mutilated years that lay before her, and cursed that im- potent God who could not control Brute Chance! For I felt within my heart of hearts that the argument was against the Christ and against the father! When Brute Chance takes the reins I thought the immutability of God, God Himself, passes! No hand has ever yet been stretched across the gulf to stop a butchery that Brute Chance bad set his mind to! Ten feet above the ledge! I would meet death calmly! I would face it fearlessly! Why this drumming in my ears? Why this grip at my throat? Fear? I would cast is off! I would spurn it! I took one deep free breath . . . and then . . . It chanced that the spinning cartridge, now falling with the speed of a huliet, a stone in the side of the =hafs and caromed off at an angle. I saw it would clear the ledge and strike the wall above wy bead. I made a great leap upward . . . and caoght it in my band. There it lay, as innocent now as my little child in its cradle at home. I seemed scarcely to notice how it bad crushed my band against the jagmed rock. I felt no pain, only a great weariness, I looked at it a moment as if with pass. ing ouriosity, and then—everything grew black before my eyes.—By L. C. Hopkins, in Collier's Weekly. Facte About 1900. Leut began early this year. Ash Wed. nesday ov February 28th, aud the period of sackscloth and ashes will clcse on April 15th. The calendars for 1906 give the fol- lowing dates for the feast and feasts of the chureh : Epipoany, Jan. 6th; Septuagesima Sun- day, February 11th ; Sexagesima Sanday, February 18 ; Quingoagesima Sunday, Fe roary 20th ; Shrove Taesday, Feb. 27 ; Ash Wednesday, February 28th ; Quadragesinia Sunday, March 4th; Palm Sanday, April 8th ; Good Friday, April 13th ; Eas- ter Sanday, April i5 ; Low Sanday, April 22ud ; Rogation Sun tay, May 20th ; As. cension Day, May 24th; Whit Sanday, Juve 3rd ; Trinity Sunday, June 10th : Corpus Christi, June 14 ; Advent Sunday, December 20d. The secular holidays during the present year follow : ' New Year's day, 1906, Monday ; St. Valentine’s day. on Wednesday ; Wash. ingtou’s birthday on Thursday ; Memorial day on Wednesday ; Independence day oun Wedarsday ; Labor day on Monday, Sept. $id ; Hallowe'en on Wednesday, Oct. 31st; Thauksgiving day on Nov. 20th,and Christ. way day on Tuesday. Correspondence of dates between the present vearand those of other years are given thas by the almanac : This year 1906 corresponds to the vear 6619 of the Julian period ; the year 5666. 5667 of she Jewish era (the year 5667 be- gins .' sunset September 19th ;) the year 2659 wince the foundation of Rome, accord. ing to Varro ; the year 2566 of the Japanese era, and to the 30th year of the period en- titled ‘Meiji ;"’ the year 1324 of tha Mo- hammedan era, or the era of Heghn, begine on the 35th day of Feb., 1906. ret day of Januvary, 1908, is the 2,417.212th day since the commencement of the Julian riod. There will be three eclipses of the sun in 1906 and two of the moon. —— The boy who saves his money be- comes the banker, the merchants the pro- fessional man. The boy who never saves a cent makes the man who ‘‘earns his bread by the sweat «f his brow," who never owns a home or enjoys the luxuries of life. He always has a kick coming, aod never lets a to kick go by. Everything goes wrong with him—when he is a man. Par- ents should use every possible means to make graduates in economy of the boys aud girls. . — Wiseman—Here’s an account of an- other hunter lost in the woods. Every hunter shonld carrv a pooket Sompass. i How would t help m Wiseman—Help him to find his way, of course. You see, the needle of the compass always points to the north. ey— Yen, hut suppose he wanted to gO east, south or west ? ie Sruable vit] Teaclles is that be won any ane en to accomplish ae RE {You misjudge him." guess not. “Oh, but you do. He'll stick toa bot- tle long enough to get a jag.” I ———————. —— Miss Bunyon—I've got to my. sell a pair of shoes and I'm artaraeh ri bave a real nobhy pair. Miss Pert—Why, my dear, I'm sure any pair of shoes yon would wear would have to he knobby. —A Clearfield girl says she considers it very impolite for a young man to shrow a kiss at a young lady ; that he should al- ways deliver it in person. WE S—————— —''Your wile was waiting as the door PH for you when yom got in last night, wasn’t she 2’ “Yen.” “Were you sober ?"’ *‘Well, I thought for a moment that I must be a bigamist.”’ FUR AND ABOUT WOMEN. A DAILY THOUGHT. Masle at & single bound clears ail the steps of being—it tukes us from earth lato the soul of man~and from that to God. — Beriatexs. Both big and little hats are seen, hus pone of medium size. Tips are absent from moss of the new . There's a very pretty bit of style in the long, unbroken vamp. Contrary to grown-up styles, children's shoes remain the same broad-toed, square- looking affairs thas fashion and common sense agreed to support three or four years ago. New pumps are already shown, and ate just a listle different from those of lass yeai—that little, however, eloquent of the change of styles. Even so surely, though very, very slow ly pointed shoes gain in favor —the new pumps show that change. Pamps are cut a listle lower than they were last year--why, nobody knows. For lass year's high pomp, with the bit of elastic hidden away under the how, hold- ing the <hoe sung on the foot was the most comfortable form ever made; aud the new ones slipa little, In place of the rather higher pumps of a year ago have come ‘ribbon ties,” evi- deutly of the same family, bat boasting four (or even six) great eyelets, through which ribhon runs 10 tie in an even longer bow than last year bonsted. These tibbon ties, hy the way. bid fair to almost entirely supplant low shoes, Tan shoes promise to he worn a good deal —for that matter, they've been worn all winter, to a certain extent. But it's bardly hikely that this season will see wo greas a furore made over them as last, Bas white! White promises to be more popular than ever, in spite of everything «aid aud done about it last year. Most of the white pamps will he made of buckskin, leaving canvas to the ribbon ties. Dresses in the Peter Thompson stvle are literally all the rage at present for school dresses for misses. By far the greater ma- jority of the pupils at the fashionable New York private schools wear these Peter Thempson costumes, made of linen in sum- mer, and of serge, tlannel, or chevios at this time of year. Dark blue serge and cheviots, trimmed with white or black braid, are favored for this style, hut some meltous iu fancy gray checks, plaids and mixtures are being vhown also, One pretty style has a large sailor collar with a shield reaching to the waistline, This, as well as the lower pars of the sleeve, can be uvbuttoned and a white waist worn underneath. Theskiit insides pleated. The material is a small, gray, invisible plaid, and the emblems are em- broidered in 1ed. The tie is of the same shade, . An excellent model for misses in this blouse style house dress is made of old rose Heutietta. The waist has a guimpe of fine white monsseline made of alternate rows of sucking and lace insertion. The skirt is wade in the new circular shape, and trimmed with three rows of silk braid, which also adorns the blonse, Theold tailored shirt waist of linen is back with us again; hus, like every other revival of an old style, itis marked with fascivativg differences. These, with all their severity of cut, are made feminine hy the delicate materials shey are made of, by the shoroughly feminine neck-fixings, and by certain little touches in the way of short sleeves or odd cuffs which stamp them as thoroughly of today. There are fascinativg new shirt waist stoffs ont: linens in every weight, from those cobwebby things which seem like some rarer material; new plaid ones, and sturdier kinds, but wothing thas is very heavy. Those sturdy kinds are often ued to make shirt-waist suits of, although sume stanning little simple shirt-waist suits are made of bandkerchief linen, with the seams put together hy beading. Plenty of buttons are uzed on bosh skirt aud waist, rather large ones on the heavier linens, little ones on batiste and she rest of the sheerer stuffs, Some of the shirt waists are almost man- nish in their ont, only the treatment of collar and tie softening them into present styles. Aud some of them, as plain as Pihestoma, bave sleeves with no cufls as all, except for the shallowest of turned back affairs edged with a demure scallop, which the collar echoes. Skirts are mostly circular, or in the ef- fecs of cironlar, many of them buttoning over large pearl buttons straight down the {ions 10 the bem; a few of them battoving down the back. Some of them have a seam directly down she front. Where a shirt- waist suit is intended to be laundered, bands are best lefs off, for uo master how carefully they are done up, these bands are apt to shrink a different way from tie skirs itself, The shirt-waist snita pictured were de- signed to be made of linen, or of some of the summer fabrics, but make attractive models for the prettiest of spring shirs- waist suits, of wool or cotton voiles, in the pretty little checks and plaids which bave come out in even greater profusion this year shan last. There's a sofs green—jast one of the in- expensive cotton voiles—which, in its mark- iug, iv strongly suggestive of sbadow- ohecks, but has just a little more character shan shadow-oiiecks bad. In ite soft col- oring it reminds you irresistibly of and it is a wa which could be worn all summer on the cool ass, as well as serving as a mighty pretty shirt-waist sais all . Gays and violets and good, staunch blues come in a host of attractive lightweight materials, all of them subdued and quiet as to color, hus fall of style. There is so much doubt in the minds of manufacturers about the Empire style in costume finding favor with American women that they have not taken it up at “li a yet. The princess, however, is be- ing developed with modifioations, and the noess skirt with bolero is one of the eaders, the bolero taking on a variety of as to length, shape aud decora- . The hip yoke with modi- fications has been reinsiated. EE ——————_— ~——Suhsoribe for the WATCHMAN, FARM NOTES. —R -galarity in feeding and work makes long-lived horses, ~Tue first principle in leediug castle is the ability wo hay right. ~Puatty up the windows aud replace all broken lights in the stables, ~— When oste are fed unshira<bed they make un hetter balanoed ration. ~Irregalar feeding makes tnin horses, no matter what quantity is given, -=A free use of the whip when ununeces- sary will make stubborn horses, ~=Sheepmen have four sources of rev: enue: Wool, Jawbs, manure aid maston. ~The pure-hied avimal makes fom serah conditions no more than the serub does, ==Cewam should have uniform consistency as well us nuiform ripeness when it goes wo the churn, =Closer is richer than grass in the mus. ole formers ; for young animals it is the better feed, — Nu animal of any bueed or species of dowestio aninmls will unifmmly produce song that are a | of a superior order. ~The pate bred animal is the more va! uahle simply because of its greater capacity to appropiate favorable cirenmsrances, —1 takes longer and costs more to mrke np a pound of lose than it Yoex to add five pounds of gain under favorable conditions, ~ Batter for storage mast be pretty dry, If too mush water is present it will noe keep well, and storage hayers will let it alone. —At no other time in the life of the ani. mal i the influence of liberal or of scans fesding =o great ns when the animal 1x yonng. —Each particular field requires special and careful treatments. One plat of land may be hetter adapted for a certain crop than another, and the farmer must study the requirements of eack field and crop. ~-The age of the animal has mueh to do with the gain, and. other things heing equal, & young, growing animal will make a greater gain from a hushe! of coin thaw one near matarity. ~Young, growing animals have more hearty appetites than mature ones, bat this ix because the impulse of their natore is to grow. To stand still is unnatural for the young —~ E. J. Sheldon in the Kansas Farmer. —Farmers should rigidly woard their hogs against disease by procnring any new stock reqnired only after inspecting the herds from which they desire to select, Never buy from a neighborhood in which disease in known to exist or recently exist- ed. —It is claimed that a farmer can keep one sheep for every cow without feeling the additional expense as sheep consume much that other stock will not eat. The use of sheep is most appreciated by the fact that they are great foragers, and destroy a large nomber of weeds. A flock of sheep con- fined to a limited area will also add con- siderable fertility to the land. —There is always a large amount of coarse material in the barmyard thas bas little or no plant food in is, especially if is bas heen exposed. Such manure is not worth taking to the fields, and if tured under it will make the soil dryer in sum- mer. Such material should he made the foundation for a new heap, #0 as to rot it down to less bulk, and also to use it as abzorbent material for fresh manure. —There are thousands of acres of hill- side land thas are not utilized, yes a hill- side is an excellent location for an orchard. Some of the heat orchards are on land thas eannot be plowed. Where land can be tilled it is an advantage, but hillside land will not only permit of froit-growing, hut can also he utilized for sheep, especially the merinos. which are hardy and active, foraging over hillsides or level ground. Wherever a portion of the farm is too hilly for oaltivation it can be given up to sheep. —Good seed potatoes are necessary if large crop is expected. Never attempt to economize on seed. Get the hest, as any mistake made will last into the barvest. Use whole seed, if possible, and give more room inethe rows. While the sprouts from single eyes are breaking the ground the of whole potatoes will be large enongh to plow. Many farmers bave lost mone hy cutting the seed potatoes into ly pieces in order to reduce the cost, hus for every dollar thus saved they lose much more in the crop. . ~The raspberry and blackberry fields now requireacatting ous before spring un. less such work has been done. Feeble canes will not produce much fruit, and even the best canes will not yield choice fruit if the canes are too thick. The caves also require manure or fertilizer. Some blackberry fields have done service for years withons fertilizers, hut if the fleld is given ounitivation and well supplied with plant food, the increased yield and better qualisy of the frais will make some of she unprof- itable fields pay well. ~The man who has a good farm aud is doing well had better stay with it instead of trying to get something better. Too many of this kind of men bave failed. They understand sheir business on the farm and were successful but when they embarked in busivess which they did nos understand they failed. Never satisfied and always wanting something easier and better is what makes work harder and loses inter- est and even this will sometimes lead to failure. Keep what you have and make it better is a good max for a successful farmer. ~The best time to »ell is wh2o the mar- ket is ready and the fowls just Never wait for a chick to mature, and largest of of Joule mas and New Year's day, but the almost invariably far exceeds the ai and unless the poultry are fat and choice, prices may be very low, and much stock ourried over uutii it brings Hari evicagh, 10407 the cost of transportation and n fowls are dinjoeed of in a short time after they arrive in markes they wil be sold at a low price, bus there seems to be a large demand for choice stock, and at wood prices, during all seasons of the year. i ————— Subscribe for the WATCHMAN. WORK OF THE WORMS THEIR IMPORTANT PART IN THE HIS- TORY OF THE WORLD. Objects of Antiquity That Have Been Preserved by Them — Some of the Peculiarities of the Senses of the Earthworms, The common earthworm, despised by man and. heedlessly trodden underfoot, fulfills a part in nature that would seem incredible but for the facts re- vealed by the patient and long contin- ued researches of Darwin, “Worms,” says Darwin, “have played a more im- portant part in the history of the world than most persons would at first sup- pose.” Let us follow Darwin and see how this apparently insignificant crea- ture has changed the face of nature. We will first consider the habits and mode of life of the earthworm. As every one knows, the worms live in burrows in the superficial layer of the ground. They can live anywhere in a layer of earth, provided it retains moisture, dry air being fatal to them. They can, on the other hand, exist sub- merged in water for several months. They live chiefly in the superficial mold less than a foot below the sur- face, but in long continued dry weath- er and in very cold seasons they may burrow to a depth of eight feet, The burrows are lined by a thin layer of earth, voided by the worms, and end in small chambers in which they can turn around. The burrows are formed partly by pushing away the earth, but chiefly by the earth being swallowed. Large quantities of earth are swallowed by the worms for the sake of the decom- posing vegetable matter contained in it, on which they feed. The earth thus swallowed is voided in spiral heaps, forming the worm gs. In this case the worm obtains food and at the same time excavates its burrows. In addition to the food thus obtained half decayed leaves are dragged into the burrows, mainly for food, but also to plug the mouths of the burrows for the sake of protection. Worms are also fond of meat, especially fat. They will also eat the dead bodies of their relatives. They are nocturnal in hab- it, remaining, as a rule, in the burrows during the day and coming out to feed at night, The earthworm has no eyes, but is affected by strong light if exposed to it for some time, It has no sense of hearing, but is sensitive to the vibra- tions of sound. The whole body is sensitive to touch. There appears to be some sense of smell, but this is lim- ited to certain articles of food, which are discovered by the worm when buried in earth, in preference to other bodies not relished. The worm appears to have some degree of intelligence from the way in which it draws the leaves into its burrows, always judg- ing which is the best end to draw them in by. This is remarkable in so lowly organized an animal, being a degree of intelligence not possessed by many ani- mals of more complex organization. For instance, the ant can often be seen dragging objects along traversely in. stead of taking them the easiest way. As we have seen, vast quantities of earth are continually being passed through the bodies of worms and void- ed on the surface as castings. When it is stated that the number of worms in an acre of ordinary land suitable for them to live in is 53,000 we can imag- ine the great effect which they must have on the soil. They are, in fact, continually plowing the land. At one part of the alimentary canal of the worm is a gizzard, or hard muscular organ, capable of grinding food into fine particles. It is this giz- zard which is the main factor in tritu- rating the sell, and it is aided by small stones swallowed with the earth, which act as millstones, In consequence of the immense amount of earth continually being brought to the surface by worms it is not difficult to understand how objects, such as stones, rocks, ete, lying on the surface will in course of time become gradually buried in the ground. Owing to the burial of stones and other objects by the action of worms ancient monu- ments, portions of Roman villas and other objects of antiquity have been preserved. These have been gradually buried by the worms and so preserved from the destructive effect of rain and wind. Many Roman remains were studied by Darwin and traces of the action of worms found, to which action their preservation was mainly due. The sinking of the foundations of old build- ings is due to the action of worms, 8 : 1 Hi namely, about eight feet below the sur- face. Another useful effect produced by worms is the preparation of the soil for | : i Fi al Hil i fii! ait]
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers