¥
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
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