A Song.
" I want yon to pot me lw I <'*n wo the
ocean." /'rrswie*' (t orjhl*i to thf Aifjow.
A for from the lcei> Moo w,
Afar from thy choral of wavoa,
A child who hath roaniod by Uicc
For thy murmnriug nineic cravca;
Ft.r the laugh of thy billoae that bemud
In play amid shells on Uio ahoro,
(Ir dashing o'er rocka that nwound
A troubled and stormy roar.
Lot him for the greenwood sigh
Whoao home ia ita leafy lower
Whoeo hearth at the twilight hour
Offer* emblems of peace to the aky.
Hie may he the hreose
Tliat ruetloe the forcat flower.
Or atirretli a thonaand trees
To an anthem of strsngth and power.
But giro me the sea-girt htlo,
My forefathera' home and graro,
Tlint h*ek in the muUl.ll entile
Of wculight and rippling wave.
HH hiliowe neem all my own.
And the skice more dear to mo.
Whose arch reel* fondly down
On tho breast of the heaving xca.
Only a Private Secretary.
" Both are handsome, and have equal
ly accomplished manneis, I hear. They
will make a most welcome acquisition
to the limited society of this poor little
village," remarked Claudia Thorne,
with great animation, that was sadden
It augmented by the appearance of an
elegant equipage that she had just seen
coming down the pleasant, shadowy
stroet. " There they are now, Aggie,
dear," she continued, excitedly; "and
is not that carriage altogether too sty
lish for this dreadfully unfasbionablo
a d prosy place? and that prancing,
peckled, reddish homo must be a price
less 'flyer,' I think," she commented
somewhat doubtfully, for abe was con
scious of her utter deficiency in equine
lore.
Meanwhile the spirited, dappled roan
—an animal neither extraordinarily fine
nor fast—was trotting past the garden
gate, the senescent blossoms of the
lofty loenst trees falling in white show
ers over gihled harness and glittering
wheels. W
" The gentleman—the one with that
Baxon'and distinguished look and the
tawny, cnrlinmhair and board—he who
is driving, mutt be the millionaire who,
lam informed, is the son of a noble
man, but is too Americanized nr repub
lican ized to assume bis illustrious title.
The other, with the dark hair and stont
ish figure, must be the private secretary
or traveling complpion. One can al
ways discern the difference between the
patrician and plebeian, can one not 7"
"Certainly I have nopuch subtle gift
of discrimiuation—in tke sense you in
fer. One whose soul i ignoble must
be plebeian, I think, howevcy aristocrat
ic tho birth or tout ensemble of that one
may be," answered Agnes Rothsar,
quietly.
She and Claudia Thorno were cousins
and ostensibly friends,
together a life of genteel
having jointly inherited a small legacy
devised by an eccentric relative recently
deceased whom neither had ever seen.
In the picturesque and tiny hamlet of
Boaebithe—a haven of roses—they had
made their summer home.
Agnes had been pleased and con
tented with the small tranquil place,
with its wide, grassy, umbrageous
streets, and sparse clusters of quaint
house* buildod abont tho obtnse,
wooded angle of crags that jutted into
the tumbling waters, just where a wild,
narrow stream frothed into the surf of
the sea.
But Clandia had thought it all—the
serene seclusion, tho isolated but im
posing scenery, simple habitants with
their hemely way—uninteresting and in- '
snfferably dull.
They were very unlike— those two
young ladies, who had yet all the bloom
and brightness of fresh, sweet woman
hood.
Miss Ilothsay *u a UU and notably
gramful blonde, with that rarely and
peculiarly fair complexion that no care
can wrinkle and no time can yellow.
Her fine feature* were innch too mobile
for the artiatio Grecian type, and her
large eyee— splendid and indetcrilttble
—were too paaaionfnl and tender to bo
gray, and too discerning and imperious
to be the ideal and poetic bine. Her
magnificent maaeee of hair had the
nnbtle and beautiful abadee of amber
and ruddy anbnrn; and her attitude*,
her action, her meaner of speaking,
were dint ingnished by a majesty, a dig
nity and a gentle graeioasnesi that were
as natural as irresistible. Among in
feriors she would bare been misunder
stood and possibly hated, feared and
tradnced. Among her peers she was
loved and revered.
Claudia Thome belonged to quite a
dissimilar sphere of mind, feeling and
volition. She had mors canning than
intellect; she was more emotional than
sympathetic; she liked only the excite
ment that oould be made egotistically
sensational, and she was inordinately
ambitions for a very eminent social dis
tinction. She bated the defeased legs
or who had bequeathed ber a humble
com pot on oo in-dead of uu exliaustlesa
income. It would seem that she whs
pitifully uuappreeifttivo of small favors
—that sbo sadly lacked tho sense of
gratitude. Novertlioier>s, she was u witch
ing little lady, with ever restless
fairy feet and singularly pretty, elfish
hands. She was dark and petite; her
hair was jetty black, and her black eyes
ware brilliant with mesmeric lines; alio
had red, laughing lips, and a dainty
scarlet color always wavering over her
babyishly rounded cheeks. Bho affected
tho nat'ttt with tho most tlattering sno-
OOHS.
And sho seemed very childishly in
genuons, indeed, when sho llrst smiled
beguilingly into tho admiring eyes of
him whom she supposed to be wealthy
and titled.
Apparently iliat first mooting was en
tirely accidental.
The gentleman had been piseatorially
busied in a dclicioualy cool nioho among
tho willows, whoso foliage of topaz and
emerald left dickering shadows along
the margiu of a still pond whore a strata
of wild rook had dammed the stream,
and where a myriad of silvery fins
glanced through tho clear, brown water.
Ho had heard a lazy and irregular sound
of oars, and had glanced with small in
terest across tho high green reeds and
low flower-de-luce, to see a gaudily
gilded and very small skiff rocking
dangerously among tho water-lilies just
before him.
Tho single occupant of the boat was
a bmnotto far, wearing a fancy cos
tume of some dark, ruddy-bronze stuff,
with goldon-barted lily-bnds in her
corsage and an aigrette tipped with
white and gold in her jannty bronze
velvet cap.
Aa the young gentleman regarded her
with a half-enchanted ga/.e, alio extended
her dusky, jeweled hands toward a
snowy blossom, dropping her oars with
a pretty, careless gesture. The next in
stant the oars were drifting slowly away
on tho sluggish current; the next in
stant thero was a splash and a musical
cry for help.
The light craft was capsized, and
Claudia Thome was straggling and
gasping among the lilies.
How the spectator of the catastropho
rcscncd her ho could never quite clear -
Iv remember; however, ho might never
forget the sensation of pleasurable tri
umph he felt as she lay at last help
lessly ia his arms—a saved, thankfnl
nymph, so drenched and seemingly
frightened that one much less gallant
and susceptible than he must, perforce,
have said to her something very flatter
ing and agreeable.
That episode was the beginning of a
charming little romance.
"If my mishap be known I shall
only he ridiculed," declared pretty
Claudia, diplomatically, whereas she
had purposely caused the accident. " I
have always l>een awkward with my
oars. There is a standing prediction, I
beiicvo, that I should )>e capsized
some time. I must invent some neat
Action to account for flounces
and this poor spoiled hat!J
Hbo was turning sionXy away, and
her manner would to*express that
her gratitude wastoedgroat to l>e uttered |
in the ordinary phroJpology considered .!
conventional on sneh n occasion. f
The gentleman imagined that he un
derstood that simulation of gracafal
timidity. Ho thonght her tho hand
somest, tho most and the
most charming young lady whom bo
had ever mot.
"Shall I never 800 yon again ?" he
queried, almoat beseechingly.
" Perhaps you mar," she returned,
with a coquettish ami bewildering
ntnile. " I row or rido or walk every
morning in this delightful place. lam
absurdly fond of tho 1M idle path along
the river bank, and of the cool promen
ade among tho willows."
" And so am I," he asserted, quickly
and respectfully. " I aliall see yon of
ten ; but perhapi yon will not think
proper to recognise me, if we should
meet 7" he snpplemented, uneasily.
With seeming bashfniness she averted
her bright fare and brilliant eyes; bnt,
as she vanished among the golden green
willow shadows, she mnrmtued " An
remir," in encouraging accents.
Claudia went slowly homeward. Her
mood was thoughtful and speculative.
" He is certainly interested, and per
haps infatuated," she mnted, with great
satisfaction. " I shall meet him often,
and long before we shall be formally in
troduced I shall le tho betrothed wife
of my titled millionaire, whom, most
fortunately for poor, ambitions, deceit
ful me, I already adote."
With all her nnwomanly faults,
Claudia keenly comprehended that a
marriage without reciprocal love is only
an nnholy sham.
The flirtation under the willows pro
gressed as she had predicted, and aa
favorably as she could desire.
" I shall allow yon to tell me nothing
about yourself at all. Practical details
would spoil all the romance of our
pleasant summer dream," asseverated
Claudia one morning. She spoke with
a semblance of that blind and absolute
faith that she well knew pleases and
flatters and deceives even the shrewdest
of lovers. And moreover, she presumed
hcraelf to about become a modem Lady
Rurloigh, althongh ono might doubt if
she would ever bo very conaeionfiously
porploxod
" Willi the burden of an lienor ,
Unto which alio wax not born. '
" But our romance is no summer
dream, darling," protested Herbert
! Saunders, earnestly. " Yon aro to bo
i my wife, you know, and beforo wo aro
married I should like you to thoroughly
understand my social and financial
rank."
" I will listen to no prosy explana
tions," alio peraistod, pressing her pretty
hands over her ears. "I lovo you and
will he a dutiful wife, trying always to
make you happy and our homo pleasant.
Is not that sufficient T'
Claudia spoke with sincerity. For
lovo was producing ono of those beauti
ful and mysterious psychological phe
nomena that occasionally redeem tho
moat faulty souls.
" la not that sufficient, Herbert?" alio
iterated, with a smile, that the man who
loved her thought superlatively artless.
" Certainly it ought to bo so," he al
lowed, half doubtfully, and unpleas-
I antly conscious of an indefinable sense
!of dissatisfn tion. " But still I think it
; best and wisest for any lady to know
j thoroughly the prosy and practical par 4
I of lifo of tho man to whose keoping alio
i consigns her freedom and happiness.'*
Tint tho willful girl would not listen,
j In her vain egotism she imagined that
• she already know as much, or more,
j than he could possibly tell lier.
That night they met at a garden
i party —e rather rcrherch* affair with an
afternoon of crcqnct and tennis and an
evening of dancing and
' under a round, opaline moon, among
I magnificent old ireos of oak and elm.
In tho midst of the festivity, while
, Ulaudia was for a moment alone in a
cool, arboreous nook fantastically il
' lumcd by the paly red light of a gorge
i ons paper lantern swinging from an
! arch of thick ivy, she saw Agnes Roth
| say approaching.
Miss Rothsay wore a simple and cx-
I piiaite costume of darkest, richest
violet silk, with sprays of snowy, odor
i ons eglantine in her hair and corsage.
I Bhe looked very happy as she stopped
beside her pretty cousin.
"Claudia, dear, will yon congratulate
me 7' she whispered, l*a>hfally. " I am
. betrothed really affianced to the har-
I onet. One day while you were rowing
1 after lilies, the pastor's wife brought
my Jack for a forma! call. He was
foolish enough to honor me with his
: admiration, and he sent all those lovely
flowers yon wondered at so much. Bnt
I was never quite sure he loved mo nntil
I to-day. But only a little while ago he
met me down there among the willows
and wild roses, and he told me how
very dear I had become to him, and he
! kissed me, Claudia, and he kissed this
; ring before he put it on my linger."
Hhc llnng nrido a hit of delicate lace
| ■lrapery and presented a graceful hand
: upon which glittered a magnificent ring
|of diamonds and gold. "I am very
happy, cousin dear, for I know that my
Jack is one of the noblest of all men. I
should revere him jnnt the same, if he
were a bricklayer instead of being a
%*t -net."
I " Your Jack—the baronet! What do
'you mean, Agnes!" gasped Claudia.
Miss Roth* ay for a moment regarded
her cousin with much perplexity. Bnt
just then two gentleman advanced
through the vista of green branches
hung with grotesque illuminations of
gaudy irridesoence.
" lfnah, dear, Mr. Rsmond is search
ng for me, I think. Ho is coming this
way, and Hubert Maunders bia private
secretary -yon know, is with him."
Claudia Thorno stood motionless and
voiceless. Hho could not utter one
word, not even when Agnes and the
baronet had gone, leaving her alone
with the lover who regarded her with a
troubled, loving gaze.
Poasihly he comprehended all, hut if
he did, his affection was too loyal to be
weakened by the fault of the handsome
girl who he knew loved him.
" Why are yon so white and mute, my
darling V he inquired, tenderly.
" Would yon he mom fond of me, dear,
do you think, if I happened to have
wealth and a title?"
All that was womanly and redeeming
in her ambitious and subtle nature con
quered the sharp pang of her disap
pointment.
She was only conscious that he was
dearer to her than rank or riches, and un
speakably grateful that lieao generously
forgave a folly that ahe was aware he
more than suspected. *
" No wealth and no title could ever
make my respect and affection for you
greater," abe assured him with simple
earnestness.
He was ploasod and satisfied with the
frank answer.
"My pretty Claudia," ho said; "I
shall make your wifehood so happy that
you will never regret metrying only a
private secretary."
"If I was as bald as yon," said Gas
De Smith to one of the most prominent
citixens of Austin, "I would wear a
wig." "I don't see why you should '
ever wear a wig," was the quiet response j
"en emptv barn don't need any roof,"
I'REHIDENTIA 1< M'L'CF.SNOKS.
Ilatv iYice-l'ic-litrntn Tiler, flllrtiore and
Johnson Took the O.ul. ol (lllire of I'rrnl
•tent.
Since the day on which Wnslungton
took tlio outh of ofllco ntul entered upon
his duties as President of the United
Stales, on the 30th of April, 1780, until
now—a period of mora than ninety
three years—only three Vice •Presidents
(exclusive of General Arthur) have suc
ceeded to the presidency: John Tyler in
1811, Millard Fillmore in 18of), and An
drew Johnaon in ISGS. The oflicial
proceedings nnder which each qualified
have a peculiar interest at this time,
and as comparatively few people now
living can recall them, they are given
precisely as they appear in tlio written
minntes of tho proceedings of the
Senate of tho United The min
utes are as follows:
TUESDAY, April fi, 1811.
Immediately after the draMw of tlio Pr<-*i
dent, Mr. Webster, Jr., chief clerk of the de
partment of H! ate, accumpaidcd by Sir. Iteail,
an officer of the Senate, i-t out for tlio roi
dnnca of the Vico-Premdent, in Virginia, bear
ing to him the following letter:
WtwitNomx, April 1. 1841.
To John TyUr, Yiet-l'rtMiUnt of the United
S'ntee.
8ii!: It lu* heroine our most painful duly lo
inform you that William Henry Harris-ill, hit*
Prcnnli-ut of tho United Stale*. baa departed
tliix life.
Tin* distressing tvi nt to >k pUea Uu - day. at
tho I'riwident'a mansion, in tlii* city, at thirty
minute* I* fur" 1 in the inoroing.
Wo loan no time in dixpatching the chief
elerk Ui th* state department, a* a special m< *-
wnger. to Ix-ar yon tho*. melancholy tiding*.
We hare the honor to 1*;, Willi the higiici-t
regard, your obedient servant*.
Basin. WrnsiTH. Secretary of Stat*.
THOMAS KWJXO, Secretary of the Treasury.
Jon* liixi. Secretary of War.
JORXJ. UnrrrmwE*. Attorney-tieneral.
Faatacts tiittX'ii.it, I'ostmaster-iieiu-ral.
Cm or WAMUXMTOX, It. C., W'*ln-*lav, April
7, 1841.
By the < atraorliriary dispatch uJ in send
ilift th* offi*ial intelligence to th* Vice-Presi
dent at Williamsburg, anil similar di*|iatcb by
liim in repairing to the seat of government,
John Tyler, now Pr*"t lent of the United Stat'-*,
arrived in Oita city yesterday morning at 5
o'cl x k, and took lodging* at Brown'a bot*L
At 12o'cA>rk all th* hear!* of dejs-tm< nt*.
except til* secretary of th* navy (who ha* not
yet returned to th* city fmm bU visit to hi*
family), waited u)>n hltn to pay him their
official and penaona! r•**,"*■!*. Tli'-y wi-r* re
ceived with all the pohteueaM and kindn *
which rUaracterir* tho new President. He
signified hi* deep feeling of th* public calam
ity *ii*Umed by the death of Proi<b iit liirn
•on, sod eiprra—d hi* profound s*n*ih-lity lo
the heavy n-*tm*ihllitv so suddenly devolved
n|n hini**lf. 11* spoke of lb* present *tat<-
of thing* with great conc-rn and eerton-iies-.
and mid* known hi* widi** that th* several
lira I* of department* would i untlnn* t All th*
place-which they Row occupy, and hi* confi
dence that they sonld afford all th* aid in
their power to enable him to carry cin the ad
rniot'tration of th* g ivemin*nt -uoc**-fu!ly.
Hi* President then bsik sod •liiwrriiwd the
following oath of office:
I do solemnly *w*ar that I will faithfully ex
ecute th* office of President of tb* United
Statis, and will, to tho l*t of my ability, prr
*cr*-\ jwotcct and defend tho Constitution of
the United Stale*. JoRX TtUJt.
Arsu.fi, I*ll
l>irs:iv oi Coi.t-Kiitt. Cirr xxn Corvrv <>r
Wumixnioj, • I, William (.'ranch. Chief
Judge of thet'irciiit Court of the I>l'rict of
('dniotiis, nrtify that the above-named John
Tjler tM-rsooally appeared t lore roe thl* day,
ai.d alUxsigh h* deem* hiui**lf qualific.l t
r-*rforai th* duties an I *x*m*c tli* J-IW. r* and
office p r .--ideal on the death of William
Henry Harrison, laU> Presidciit of the Untied
States, without any oth r alh than that w hich
li* h taken as Vice-l'ns-dutit, nt, as drmt '
may ari-", aid for gr-so r caution, took and
mtl*vnM th* foregoing oath IM-for* n.e.
Aran. o.l*ll. W. CBAXOI.
TAVUM H DEATH.
The record of Zschary Taylor's death
| snd the succession of Millard Fillmore
i is as follows:
I Zschary Taylor, President of tho United
I Sinto*. having deceased on Tnrdy, the !>lh of
I July, IMS, snd Csongre* l>cingthen In K*ion:
I> mr. Sr.IAIF. or TUT. UxrrrnHr ATIW,
\V'.!>>F-L>T, J'DY 1<, I*so.
The following commiinii-siion received by
the secretary of tho tie lisle was road:
j 7b the Smite of the f *■ iieit Slnlrt:
111 <"ot)pe.|Uenre of the lamented desth of
Zaetiary Taylor, late President of the United
Hi ales, I shall no longer occuny tie rhsir of the
Kenale; snd 1 have tlmiight that s formal enm
| munieation to the iWiate. to that effect, through
i your secretary. might enable jni the more
I promptly to proreed to the ehoieo of presiding
officer. MM. l. tab FIM-WOSK.
WASHlsorns, July 10, I*s#.
The foliosiog naeeaage was received from the
President of the United HLatos by Mr. Fiaher:
Fr'l-itc ' 'i/fwn.v if the .Srno/s and Montr of
Hrprrtenia! <Te*:
I have to perform Uie wxHancholy duty of an
lic.cn,ring to you that it has pleased Almighty
| Hod to remote from this life Zachary Taylor,
late President of the Unite! States. He de
ceased Ist evening, at tho honr of half past
10 o'cloek, So the midst of his family and sur
rounded by all his faculties. Among his last
word* were these, whleh ho uttered with em
phatic distinctness: "I hars always AuO my
duty lam ready to die —toy only regret is for
the friend# I leave liebind me."
Having announced to you, fellow oitirens,
this most * (feeling Iwrcavametit, and assuring
you that it has je-iiotratod no heart with deeper
grief than mine. It remains for mo tossy tlist I
projioto this day, at 13 o'clock, in the hall of
the House of lteprsscntatives, in tho presence
of both houses of Congress, to take tbe oath
prescribed by tbe Constitution, to enable me to
enter on tbe execution of tho office which this
event has devolvad on me.
Mit.i.iki> Fttutoia
WJASKUMTO*. July Iff, I*so.
A similar message having been enmmnnieaiad
to tha House of llepressntatives, and tbe neces
sary arrangements made bstweon the two
houses;
At 13 o'clock meridian.
Th# President Of the United Sistm, tho heads
of departmsnta, the chlsf judge of tho circuit
court of the District of Columbia ami the
Henate of tbe United States having entered tho
hall of th# House of IlcpreecntaUvss,
Hi# oath of office was administered to the
President by ths Honorable William Craneh,
chief judge of the circuit court of lbs United
Slates for tbe District or Colombia.
DHATU or v*mwm*T uwcoidt.
Ths death of President Lincoln and
th taking of tbe ooth bp Andrew John
son are thus recorded:
Vtxtnmrron, D. C,, April 15, IMS.
SIB: Abraham Lincoln, President of the
United Htates, was shot by an aasiMtn last
evening at Ford's theater, in this'-ity, aii'l died
at the hf mr nt twenty-tiro minutes after 7
o'cltwk tltiv morning.
About tho same tuno at which ttin President
shot an a* r—in altered tlio *i< k ehktnlior
of the Hon. William H. Howard. *■ cretsry of
state. ami stabbed him to m-veral places in
tin- thrust, neck ami lc- s-iori-lv. if not liint
taliy, wounding him. Other members of tho
seorotary'* family wore danger-mslr wounds!
l>y tin- as-rii—>n while making hi* to* a)*.
By tlio death of President l.innoln. the office
of IVe*blent ha devolved, timlcr the ConsUtn-
Hon, ni>ori you. The emergency of tic- govern
ment d- mands that you sli-mfd immediately
qualify according to the rer|llireni< iiU o! tb
an<l eater Upon the dull*- o
President of the United Slnti-i. If you will
pl< aae make known your plus*or*. auch arrange -
tncnt- a* you deem proper w ill 1M; mail-.
Your obedient servants,
Btnii MrOi l.irx u, Secretary of Hie Tr< asurv.
KIIW I.S' M. Hr.oroi. Secretary of War.
filnKOM WKIJ.KM, Secretary of the Navy.
XV. IIKKMKOX, Postinastcr-ficlieril.
Jotftf I'. UHiir.it, Secretary of tin- Interior.
JAMES Hw i.n, Attorney-'ieiioial.
To the Hon. Aximriv JOIIXSOM,
Vice-President of the United Slate a.
Mr. Johnaon, in answer, appointed II o'clock
a. M., at hie room* in the Kirktrood bote), a*
the time and place w here be would take the
oath of office. It wax duly administered to hiiu
by Chief Juatice Chaae, in presence of the
Cabinet and several mi mber* of Congrats.
Your Eyes.
The most serious trouble with read* is
and writers is, as might lie predicted
from their peculiar work, weak eyes.
We find Hi at engravers, watchmakers,
and ail others who use their eyes con
stantly in their work, take extra care
to preserve them by getting tho best
possible light by day, and using the
best artificial light by night. The great
army of readers and writers aro care
less, and most of them sooner or later
pay the penalty by being forced to give
up night work entirely— some to give
up reading except at shcrt intervals,
nnder the best conditions, and now and
then one loses the eye-sight entirely,
after it is too lato to take warning.
Greek, German, short-hand or any
other character differing from the plain
Roman type makes a donhle danger.
The custom is to laugh at all warning*
till pain or weakness makes attention
impcrilive, and th<n it is often too late
to avert the mischief. Few comprehend
the vast number we call a million, but
it takes a million letters to make a fair
siaed volume of five hundred pages,
forty linos to the page, fifty letters to
the line. A reader makes an easy day
of reading this, hut hit eye most go over
a million letters.
We can do no lustier service to read
er* and writers than to call attention to
this great danger of failure to take tho
best care, which is none too good for the
eyes. livery tyro know* that he should
have the beat light for reading, slionld
shun carefully early dawn or twilight,
should always stop at the first sign of
j>ain or weariness, etc. Most know that
the glare from a plain white snrfaee is
very trying, and that the eye is relieved
by a tint. Recent experiments in Ger
many are reported to indicate some yel
lowish tint as the easiest for the eye*.
Dark papers, inks that show light color
on first writing, faint pencil marks that
ran he read only by straining the eyes,
are fruitful sources of mischief. Ho is
hail writing. Tlio liad paper, ink and
]>enciU most cf our reader* will have
too good sense to nse.— Liter try Jour
nal.
•• The Way of a Serj"*nl on a Kock.*'
The movement of a snake in climbing
! a perpendicular surface, as I have ob
! -wired it, ia a vermicular, undulating
motion, not spiral, but straight up the
| face of the surface. 1 have seen a black
! snake thua glide up a beech tree with
that easy, careless grace of movement
: which ia characteristic of that anake
! when moving over horizontal anrfacca.
i The bark of the beech afford* no in -
i equalities into which the edges of the
gastrnslagal bands conld le throat claw
fashion, and I have no donbt that at
mospheric pressure is the force that
holds the snake against such surfaces in
i climbing, sncker fashion, as the ltoj lift*
the brick with the piece of wet leather.
I once knew a black snake to aacond a
stttcco-wall to tho second story window,
and another I saw go up to the eaves of
a carriage house to the swallowa' nest,
straight up the up-and-down boards. I
havo seen them glide from tree to tree
and leap down from near the top of large
trees, but never Raw one doer end by
climbing down a smooth, perpendicular
surface. I have no donbt of their abil
ity to do so, however. Ido not believe
that this power is enjoyed by tbe cop
perhead or rmttleanake, or any venom -
ous sort with which I am familiar, they
being heavy and sluggish in their move
ments. 1 have seen them go up on
ieening trees and crawl into the foliage
of bushes, however.—/hretf ami Strmim.
Valuable Suggestions.
Always tell tbe truth ; you will find
it easier than lying.
Always do a kind act in a kind way ;
to do H otherwise destroys lie value.
Do a in nan act in a mean way ; ao it
will have a keener sting— for your own
breast. Hut better not do it.
Whatever you dislike in another cor
rect in yourself.
Better be upright with poverty than
wicked with plenty.
Time never rests heavily upon ns
when it is well employed.
Do yoar duty ia that station of life
in which God ia His provdence has
placed yon.
Mind your own business.
Carrying I'ure Air in a Knapsack.
Buccesi-ftil experiments have Ixsn
carried on by Mr. Warrington Hmvtbe,
at the Now Heahatn colliery, near New
castle, England, with what is termed
the Fionas breathing apparatus. The
importance of this invention will at
once be apparent to those who are in
any way acquainted with the risks from
nffocation rftn by firemen and those
employed under ground, where |<oiaon
ous fumes are HO liable to break forth
and nil fFocatc those who may l>e subject
to them. With the aid of the Fleus*
machine men can work without danger
under all these mimical conditions.
The apparatus has the size and shape
of a soldier's knapsaei:, its principal
portion being a cose of sheet copper,
twelve inches long, twelve inches wide,
and two and a half inches deep. The
ease is internally divided into four lon
gitudinal cooqiartmerits, fitted up so as
to securo the complete circulation
, through them ol the air that lias been
robbed of its oxygen by passage through
the lungs. Each compartment is fitted
with small cubesof india rubber upon go,
coated with specially prepxred caustic
soda. The air that passes from the
lungs of the man fitted with the tp>
par at us past-os through one side of a
mouthpiece and down the correspond
ing short length of pipe over his left
shoulder to the first compartment of the
case.
There it goes through a finely-bal
anced \alve, which gives way to the
I softest breath jrossing from the mouth,
hut is immovable to anything from the
inside of theeae. The partition of the
firs', rcmjjartmtnt fits closely up to the
top of the case, but is about one inch
I open at the botton. This arrangement
| thus pel raits the respired air to pass
down the first chamber and to enter the
j second at the bottom. Here it circu
i late* to the top, where an inch opening
in the next partition gives it passage
into tho third compartment, which it
descends to find a similar outlet at the
bottom into the fourth chamber. Ris
ing to the heat! of this compartment,
the air thus purified from the deleterious
matter that it has carried from the
lungs passes through a valve info a pipe
laid over the right shoulder of the oi>er
ator. Oxygen is added by means of a
small pipe that runs from the cylinder
st the bottom of the case, and finds its
, opening close to the junction of tho
clean air-pipe and the before mentioned
india rubber bag.
Th s latter performs the part of a
reservoir of pure said properly oxygen
ated air, and by its presence the act of
breathing is rendered easy and natural.
In fact, the only limit to the space of
time during which the apparatus
enable* the man to move about in the
midat of poiaonons gases is the capacity
of the oxygen cylinder and the indi
! vidnal's physical ability to carry the
copper knapsack about with him. The
i capacity of the cylinders at present in
* use is one-fourth of a cubic foot, and as
the oxygen is pumped in under pres
' sure of sixteen atmospheres, they hold
four cabic feet of gss. The supply,
which can be regulated through the
medium of a valve, is calculated to last
for a four hours' shift of work, although
no man employed under such conditions
of danger a* require its use ia kept at
I lalvr more than three hours.
An essential portion of the apparatus
ia the mask, to which is attached a
mouthpiece screwed on one side to the
pnro-air pipe and india rubber bag, and
on the other to the pipe conveying the
expired air hack to the compartment in
the knapsack case.— RtMer Era.
A Soldier's Presence ef .Mind.
It was daring the aiege of Wagner,
and the Union parallels were but a few
hnndred yards away from the grim
black tnbea that ever and anon " en
bowled with outrageous noise and air
disgorging foul their horrid glntof iron
globes." A line of abattis was to be
built across a clear space in point blank
range of the Confederate gunners and
sharjMhootcr* in front.
" Sergeant," says the officer in charge,
" go pace that opening and give rue the
distance as near as possible."
Says the sergeant (for we will let him
tell the reel of the story) :
" I started right oft When 1 got to
the opening I put 'or like a ship in a
gale of wind. What with grape, canis
ter, round shot, shell and a regular
bees'neat of rifle balls, I just think there
must hare been a fearful drain of am
munition on the Confederate army
atont that time. I don't know how it
waa, bnt I didn't get so much aa a
scratch, bnt 1 did get powerfully soared.
When I got under cover I couldn't er
told for the life er tne whether it waa a
hundred or a thousand paces. I should
sooner er guessed a hundred thousand.
" Says the captain : Well, sergeant,
what do you make it P
" Soon's I could get my wind, says L,
• Give a guess, captain.*
" Ft# looks across the opening a second
or two and then says: • A hundred
and seventy-five paces, say.'
Thunder, captain,' rays I, • you've
mades prstty close guess. It% junta
hundred and seventy-one.'
" And," concluded' the sergeant, after
the laugh had subsided, " that's how I
got my shoulder-straps,"'