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Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, July 25, 1854, Image 1

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VOL. 1.
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"Raftsman's Journal," Clearfild. Pa., (post-paid to
receive attention.
There's a langsage in the winds that sigh,
Through the branches of the trees,
I pause to list as they wander by,
The spirits of the breeze
And often in my saddest mood,
I turn from the world away.
Alone in the dim wood's solitude,
Where the wild winds are at play;
And as they murmur pleasantly.
From the depths of the greenwood lone,
I deem their voices speak to me.
Of my own. my mountain home !
It tells of the haunts of our happier hours,
Of the meadows green and fair,
Where tbe dew drops glisten upon the Cowers,
As they sleep in the cool night air:
I hear "blue Juniata's"' waves.
Wirh their never ceasing flow,
And see where the drooping willow laves
Its boughs in the depths below.
There summer skies the fairest seem,
And dews the softest fall,
The hallowe 1 spot of lifo's early dream,
The rst, IcEt borne of all.
There's sadness in the plaintive moan
Of the wind in the hush of night,
"When the light of beauty's smile has Sown,
And the echoes of delight.
Then frcm the forrest's deep recess,
These viewless heralds come.
A ad spefck to the soul in its loneliness, -
From their cool, sequestered home;
And there's sadness in the tales they bring
From memory's silent shore.
Of the blossoms of youth's happy spring,
Whose sweetness now is o'er.
'Tis strange that o'er the chords which lie
Within, so deep and still.
The wandering wind as it passes by.
Should awaken what notes it will1.
The memories that have slept for years,
The hopes, save to us unknown,
Theso. as the present disappears,
Make all the past our own.
Then wa-derer I welcome thee,
Who carst the past res'ore,
Which, as it fast recedes from ino,
I cherish more and more.
Snakes ail Stu' e-Ch&rma2.
To new-comers ia Hinlostan, and particular
ly those of nervous temperament, snakes cf
various kin is constitute a sourc i of perpetual
alarm. Their numbers are immense, nnd r.o
place ia sacred from their visitations. Just
fancy the agreeable surprise resulting frcm
such little occurrences as the following, which
&re far from being rare. You get up in a
morning, after a feverish night perhaps ; lan
guidly you reach for your boots, and upon pul
ling on one, fid something soft before your
toes, and on turning it upside down, and giv
ing it a shake, out pops a small snake of the
carpet tribe as they are called probably from
their domestic propensities wondering what
can be the cause of his being thus rud-dy eject
ed from his night" quarters. Or suppose, at
any time during the diy, you should be musi
cally inclined; you take your flute from its
resting place, and proceed to screw it together,
but find, on making an attempt to play, that
something is the matter, and on peeping into
it, discover that a little serpentine gentleman
has there sought and found a snug lodgment.
Perhaps your endeaver to give it breath with
your mouth, make Mr. Sn ike feel his habit i
tion in the instrument uncomfortably coll, an I
ere you are aware of his presence, he is out,
and wriggling among your fingers.
Such incidents as these c tuse rather unpleas
ant starts to those who are new to ITindostanic
matters, though the natives of the ltnd, or
persons who have been long resident in it,
might only smile at the new-comer's uneasi
ness, and tell him that these little' intruders
were pcrfecily harmless. But even with the
assurance of this fact, it is long ere most Eu
ropeans cm tolerate the sight and presence of
these snakes, much less feel comfortable under
their cold touch. Besides, it is but too well
known, that all theso creatures are not innoxi
ous. Well do I remember, the fright that one
poor fellow got ia the barracks at Madras. He
had possibly been indulging too freely over
night; at least when he rose, in the morning in
question, he felt thirsty in the extreme. Yawn
ing most rolcanically, he made up to one of
the room windows, whore stood a large'water
bottle or jar, one of those loag-nee'eed clay
things in which they usually keep fluid in the
East.' Upon taking this Inviting vessel into
his hands, he observed that there seemed to be
but little water in it, yet enough, as he thought
to cool his parched threat ; and he had just ap
plied it to his lips, when something touched
them certainly not water, whatever else it
might be. lie hastily withdraw the vessel
from his mouth, though etil retaining it in his
hands, when to his annzement and horror, a
regular cobra, the most deadly and d mgcrous
of all the common serpents of India, reared its
hideously distended and spectacled head from
thejtr, not a foot from its disturber s nose.
"O murder !" cried the poor fellow, who was
a son of Erin, and as he uttered the exclama
tion, he dished bottle, 'snake, and all to the
ground, and took to his heels, not stopping
until he wis a full hunlred yan's from the
spot. Here lie told his story in safety ; and the
intruder was in good time got rid of by the
cautious use of firearms.
Very different from the conduct of this fel
low, was that of one of his comndes in the
b irr icks, who was exposed to an almost unpre
r d nted trial from a similar cause. In the
vicinity of the barracks !Pd to the Euro
pean soldiers ia Indii, there is usually a num
ber of little solitary buildings or cells, where
the more disorderly members of the corps are
confined for longer or shorter terms by order
of the commanding officer. In one of these,
on a crtain occasion, was locked up poor Jack
Hall, a Scotchman, belonging to Edinburgh or
Leith. Jack had got intoxicated, and being
found ia that condition at the hour of drill,
was sentence! to eight diy's solitary imprison
ment. Soldiers in Indii have their bedding
partly furnished by the Honorable Company,
and find the rem tinder for th ems --Ives. About
this part of house-furnishing, however, Jack
Hall troubled himself very little, being one of
those hardy, reckless beings on whom priva
tion and sulTering seem to make no impression.
A hard floor was as good as a down-bed to Jack;
and, therefore, as he never scrupled to sell
what he got, if may be supposed that Lis slew
ing furniture was none of the most abundant
or select. Such as it was, he was stretched
upon and under it one night in big cell, during
his terra of penance, and possibly was reflect
ing on the impropriety of in futute putting
"an enemy into his mouth to steal away his
br ina," when, lot he thought he heard a rust
ling in the cell, close by him. At this mo
ment, he recollected that he had not, as he
ought to have done, stopped up an airhole,
which entered the cell on a level with its floor
and also with the rock, externally, on which
the building was planted. A strong suspicion
of what had happened, or was about to hapjen.
came over Hall's mind, but he knew it was
probiblytoo late to do any good, could he
even find the hole in the d irkness, and get it
closed. He therefore, 1 iv still, and in anoth
er minute or two he id another rustle close to
him, which was followed hy the coll slimy
touch of a snike upon his bare foot! "Who in
such a situation would not have started and
bawled for help? Jack did neither, he liy
stone still, and held his peace, knowing that
his cries would most probably have been un
heard by the distant guard. Had his bed
clothes been more plentiful, he might have en
deavored to protect himself oy wrapping them
closely around him, but this their scintiness
forbade. Accordingly, being aware that, al
though a motion or touch will provoke snakes
to bite, they will not generilly do it without
such incitement, Jack held himself as still as
if he had been a log. Meanwhile his horrible
bedfellow, which he at once felt to be of groat
size, crept over his feet, legs, and body, and
1 istly, over his very face. Nothing but the
most astonishing firmness of nerve, and the
consciousness that the moving of a muscle
would have signed his death warrant, caul 1
hive enabled the poor , fellow to undergo this
dreadful tri il. For a whole hour did the rep
t.l : crawl, backwards and forwards, over Jack's
body and face, as if satisfying, seemingly, that
it had nothing to tear from the recumbent ob
ject on its own part. At length it took up a
position somewhere about his heal, and went
to rest in apparent security. The poor sol
dier's trial, however, was not over. Till d ly
light, he remained in the sane posture, flat on
his back, without diring to stir a limb, from
the feir of disturbing his dangerous compan
ion. Never, perhaps, was dawn so anxiously
longed for by m rtal man. When it did come,
Jack ciutiously looked about him, arose noise
lessly, and moved over to the corner of the
cell, where there lay a pretty large stone.
This he s -izt-d, and looked about for the in
truder. Not seeing the si ike, he became as
sured that it was under his pillow. He nised
the end of this just sufficiently to get a peep
of the creiture's crest. Jack then pressed
hiskn.'C firmly on the pillow, but allowed the
snake to wriggle out its head, which he batter
e 1 to pieces with the stone. This done, the
courageous fellow, for the first time, breathed
"When the hour for breakfast came, Jack
who thought little about the matter after it wa3
fairly over, took the opportunity of opening
the door to throw the sa ike out. When the
officer whose duty it was to visit the cells for
the diy, was going his. rounds, he perceived a
crowd around the cell-door examining the rep
tile, which was described by the native as of
the most venomous character, Its bite being
invariably and rapidly mortal. The officer, on
being told that it had beeu killed by.a man in
the adjoining cell, went in and inquired into
the matter.
'When did you first know that there was 3
snake in the cell with you l said be.
About nine o'clock last night,' was Jack's
Why didn't you call to the guard?' asked
the officer. "
I thought the guard wadna hear mi. and I
was feared I might tramp on't, so I just lay
'But you might have been bit. Did you
know that you would have died instantly ?'
I kent that very weel.' sai 1 Jack; but they
say that snakes winna meddle with you if you
dinna meddle with them ; sae 1 just let it crawl
as it liket.'
Well, my lad, I believe you did what was
best after all ; but it was what not one man in
a thousand could have done.'
When the story was told, and the snake
shown to the commanding officer, he thought
the same, and Jack, for his extraordinary nerve
and courage, got a remission of his punish
ment. For some time, at loist, lie took Care
how he again got into such a situation as to ex
pose himself to the chance of passing another
night with such a bed-tellow.
It has frequently been asserted, that the
most tremendous of the snake tribe, the boa
constrictor, does not now exist in Hin lostan,
and has not done so for a consider ible time.
This statement is to be t iken with some re
servation. When our Anglo-Indian army were
c illed in the field a few years ago, to teach a
lesson to an obstinate native potentate, two of
our soldiers left atempory encampment of the
troops, in order to indulge in a bathe. They
had a portion of jungle to cross, and in doing
so, the foot of one of them slipped into a sort
of hole. This proved to be an clephant-tr ip;
that is so sty, a pit of considerable size dug
in the earth, and covered over with branch
es, sticks, and such like mitters, so as
to deceive the wild eh. pliant into placing- his
mighty weight upon it, when he sinks, and is
un ible to gei Out again. The soldier got his
foot withdrawn from the trap, though at the
cost of his shoe, which the closeness of the
branches caused to come off. Little did the
poor fellow know at the moment what a fate he
had narrowly escaped ! But he soon bee ime
sensible of it. On looking down to see whith
er his shoe was gone, and if it was recoverable,
he beheld a sight, which, but for the hold he
had of his companion's arm would have made
him yet totter into the pit from sheer horror.
Throvgh the opening made by bis foot, he siw
an enormous boa-constrictor, with its body
coiled up. and its head curved, watchinz the
opening above, and evidently prepared to dirt
on the falling prey. Hurrying from the spot,
the two two sol liers informed some of their
officers, who immediitely came to the trap
with fire-arms. The creature was still there
ami. in lee 1, ha I most probably remained in
the place for a length of time, preying on the
unfortunate aninnls; great and small, which
tumbled into its den, Ball and swanshot,both
used at once, brought tho, reptile's life to a
close, and it was got out of the hole. It prov
ed to be fifteen feet long, and about the gener
general thickness of a man's thigh. The skin
and sc lies were, most beautiful It was in
tended to-make two c isvs of the skin for hold
ing the regimental colors, and would have
been large enough for the purpose; but it was
intrusted to unskillful hands, aud got whither
ed, and wasted in the preparation.
The Hindoos, or at least the serpent-charmers
among them, pretend, as is well known, to
handle all sorts of snakes with impunity; to
make them come and go at a cill, aud in short,
to have a cahalistic authority over the whole
race. Thesa pretensions are necees try to the
ex.'rcise of their profession, which consists,
in put, in ridding private houses of trouble
some visitants -oi this description. One of
these serpent-charmers will assert to a house-
holderthat there are o.'i -ikes about his premi
ses, and partly from motives of f jar, and part
ly from curiosity, the householder promises,
the man reward, if he succeeds in showing and
removing them. The juggler goes to work,
and soon snakes are seen lo issue from some
corner or another, obedient to his call, The
performer takes them up fearlessly, and they
meet like friends. In fact, the opinion of the
more enlightened residents in India is that the
snakes and their charmers are old friends; that
he hid them there, and of course kuew where
to find them, and, moreover, that having long
ago extracted the poisouous fangs, he maj- well
hindle them without altrm. Europeans as
well as natives, believe that these charmers
have strange powers over the snake tribe. In
Midns, however, while I was there, this be
lief received a sad shock by a circumstance
which occurred. One of tho most noted ser-pent-ch
irmers about the district chanced one
morning to get hold of a cobra of considera
ble size, which he got conveyed to his home.
He was occupied abroad all day, aud bad not
time to get the dangerous fang extracted from
the serpent's mouth ; this, at least, is the pro
bable solution of the matter. In the evening,
he returned to his dwelling, considerably ex
cited with liquor, and began to exhibit tricks
with his Bnakes to various persons who were
around him at the timo. The newly caught
cobra was brought out with the others, and the
man, spirit vailant, commenced to handle the
stranger like the rest. But the cobra darted
at bis chin, and bit it, m iking two marks like
pin points. The poor juggler was sobered in
an instant. "I am a dead man !" he exclaim
ed. The prospect of immediate death made
the maintenance of his professional mysticism a
thing of no moment. "Let the creature
alone," said he to those about him, who would
have killed the cobrt; "it may be of service
to others of my trade. To me it can be of no
more use. Nothing can s ive me." IIi3 pro
fessional knowledge was but too accurate. In
two hours he was a corpse!
I s iw him a short time alter he died. Tlis
friends and brother jugglers had gathered
around him, and had him placed on a chair in
a sitting position. Seeing the detriment like
ly to result to their trade and interests from
such a notion, they vehemently asserted that
it was not the envenomed bite which had kill
ed him. "No, no ; he ouly forgot one little
word one small portion of the charm." In
fact, they declared that he was not dead at all.
but only in a sort of swoon from which, accord
ing to the rules of the cibalistic art, he would
recover in seven day9. Bnt the officers of the
barracks, close to which the deceased had liv
ed, interfered in the matter. They put a
guard of one or two men on the house, declar
ing that they would allow the body to remain
unburied lor seven days, but would not permit
any trickery. Of course the poor s.Tpent
charmer never came to life again. His death,
and the manner of it, gave a severe blow, as
has been already hinted, to the art and prac
tice of sn ake -charming in Madras.
Snake charming is not confined to India.
There are some of the natives of Alrica and
America, who possess the powea of what is
called charmiiig," or producing a, benumbing
or stupefying effect on poisonous serpen.s and
scorpions, by handling them. This power is
in some natural and herelitary, while in oth
ers it is ae juired by chewing the roots or oth
er parts of certain plants, rubbing them in
their hands, or bathing their bodies in water
containing an infusion of them. In that part
of Africa which lies northward of the great
desert of Sahara, there was formerly a tribe
C died thesylli, who seem to have possessed
this power, either from nature or art, in a de
gree that occ isioned the name of Psylli to be
given to all persons cipable of producing sim
ilar effects. Plutirch informs us thatCito,
in his march through the desert, took with him
a number of these Psylli, to suck out the poi
sons from the wounds of such of his soldiers
as might be bitten by the numerous serpents
which infested that region. It was theti igno
rantly believed that this power of subduing
the poison was the effect of magic, and the
Psylli, to confirm this belief, always, when in
the ex.'rcise of this fascina'.ion,muttered spells
or chanted verses over the person whom they
were in the act of curing. Many have ven
tured to doubt the existence of the power be
ing possessed by any class of people, but the
concurrent testimony of the best accredited
trivellers seem to confirm the fact. Mr. Bruce
distinctly states, from minnte personal obser
vation, that all the blacks in the kingdom of
Sennaar are perfectly armed by nature against
the bite of either scorpion or viper.
They tike the horned snake there the most
cjinnion, and one of the most fatal of the vi
per tribe in their hands at all times, put
them in their bosoms, and throw them at each
other, as children do apples and balls, during
which sport the serpents are seldom irritated
to bite, and if they do, no mischief ensues
from the wound. The Arabs of the same
country, he observes, have not by nature this
protective power, but generally acquire it, by
the use of certain plants. The artificial means
of rendering the person invulnerable to the
bite of snakes, seems also to be practised in
South America.
It is siid that the cobra is fond of milk, and
that a knowledge of this fact has sometimes
sived the lives of persons who were on the
point of being bitten. An anecdote is re
lated of a party of gentlemen sitting at a table
in India, when one of them felt a cobra coil
ing itstlf round his leg. Appalled at his situ
ation, he desired his companions, in a whisper,
not to speak or make any noise, if they would
sive his life. All were immediately silent.
lie next, in a low tone, requested a servant to
bring a jug of milk, and pour it ciutiously on
the floor near his foot. This being done, the
cobra in a short time uncoiled itself, and de
scend ed to partake of the milk, when, as may
be supposed, little ceremony was used in des
patching it. An exemption from reptiles of
this deadly cl iss is surely one of England's
greatest blessings. ,
Cy Show us a lady's bonnet, and we w ill
tell yovj what sort of an , institution she is.
If it is showered over with ribbons, cupids,
bows, &c, she is as full of love aud poetry,
as a country inn full of politicians and loafers.
If it goes in for simple wrinkle, plain colors,
and a couple of modest knots, she is a perfect
jewel, sweet, sunny, mild, but as affectionate
as a fn-shly nursed kitten. If it is stuck all
over with a paradise of clover, three story
ostrich feathers, wax holly-hocks and juniper
berries, put it square down that the calico is a
single establisment, and will never see her
fortieth birth day. Bonnets are a true index
of women.
!Th Lf feime of ""an.
When the world was created, and all crea
tures assembled to have their lifetime appoint
ed, the ass first advanced, and asked how long
he would have to live 1 "Thirty years," re
plied Nature: "will that be agreeable to thee?"
"Alas ! (answered the ass,) it is a long while !
Remember what a wearisome existence will be
mine ; from morning until night I shall have
to bear heavy burdens, dragging orp sicks to
the mill, that others may eat bread." while I
shall have no encouragement, nor be refresh
ed by anything but blows and kicks. Give me
but a portion of that time I pray." Nature
was moved with compassion, and presented 18
years. The ass went away and the dog came for
ward. "IIow long dost thou require to live.
Thirty years were too many for the ass,butwilt
thou be contented with them?" "Is it thy
will that I should ?" replied the dog. "Think
how much I will have to run about ; my feet
will not last for so long a time, and when I
shall have lost my voice for barking, and my
teeth for biting, what else shall I be fit for but
to lie in the corner and growl?" Nature tbo't
he was right and gaV3 him but twelve years.
The ape then appeared. "Thou wilt doubtless
live the thir y years, (said Nature,) thou wilt
not have to labor as the ass ai I the dog. Life
will be pleasant to thee." ' Ah! no, (ciied he)
so it m ty seem to others, but w!ll not be.
Should puddings ever rain down, I $' all have
no spoon. I shall phy m ,rry trie'es. an 1 ex
cite liughter by my grimaces and then be re
warded with a sour apple. IIow often sorrow
lies concealed behind n jest ! I shall not be
able to endare for thi.ty vers." Nature was
gracious and gave him but ten. At last came
man, healthy and strong, and asked the mea
sure of hisdiys. "Will thirty years content
thee ?" "How short a time .' (exclaimed man)
When I shall have built my house,and kindled
a fire on my hearth; when the trees I shall
have planted are about to bloom and bear fruit
when life to me shall seem most desirable, I
shall die ! Oh! Nature, grant me a longer pe
riod!" "Thou s'.ialt h ive the eighteen years
of the ass beside." "That is not euough, re
plied man. "Take likewise the twelve years
of the dog." "It is not yet sufficient," reit-
teratel man; "give me more!" -""I give thee
ten years of the ape, in vain w 11 you claim
more! M a departed unsatisfied. Thus man
lives seventy years. The first thirty are his
human years, and pass swiftly by. He is then
he althy and happy he labors cheerfully aud
r-'ices inhis existence. The eighteen years
of the ass come next, and burden upon burden
is heap-id upon him: he cirri -s th corn that
is to feed others: blows and kicks are the wa
ges of his faithful service. The twelve years
of the dog follow, and he los?s his teeth and
lies in the corner and growls. When these
are gone, tki ape's ten ysars form th? conclu
sion. The man, weak and silly, becomes the
sport of children.
"1 Did J. : e e. E"d "
This tame, yi.diing spirit this doing "as
the rest did" his ruined thousinds.
A young m m is invited by vicious compan
ions to visit the theatre, or the gambling room,
or other haunts of licentiousness. He be
comes dissipated, spends Lis time, loses his
credit, squanders his property, and at last
sinks into an untimely grive. What ruined
him ? Simply "doing what the rest did."
A father has a family of sons. lie is wealthy.
Other chil Iren in the sime situation of life
do so and so, are indulged in this thing and
that. He indulges his own in the sime way.
They grow up idlers, triflers, aud fops. The
father wonders why his children do not suc
ceed better. He has spent so much money on
their educ ition, has given them great advan
tages ; but alas! they are only a source of vex
ation and trouble. Poor man, he isi.ist pay
ing the penalty of "doing as the rest did."
This poor mother strives hard to bring up her
d mghters genteelly. They learn what others
do, to paint,to sing. to play, to dance, and sev
eral other useless matters. In time they mar
ry ; their husbands are un ible to support their
extravagince, and they are s on reduced to
poverty and wretchedness. The good woman
is astonished. "Truly," says she, "I did as
the rest did."
The sinner, following the example of others,
puts off repentance, and neglects to prepare for
death. He passes along through life, till, un i
wares, death strikes the fatal blow. He has
no time left now to prepare. Aud he goes
down to distraction, beciuse he was so fool
ish as to ' lo as the r st did. '
The Dutchman and uis lloa. Der teuful
in de peste, and no goot tis even von cou
trarier 1 animal as my wife Deporah Timp my
vife j'on time she - tump too, tump her twice
time she tump against .ti mp. her tree limes
and she walk m ire q'uief k she was fast asleep.
But de tetifel! nothitrgic'tu satisfy to pig fen
I tump von viy, he runs head aw ty after bis
tail, ten ven I tunips him td oter way he runs
tail vay after his his head, and mine Got ! af
ter follerin eaeh otertish hUf hour here ve ish
as nearer to place ve cum from ven ve set out.'
C7"A droll fellow, who had a wooden leg,
being in company with a man who was some
what credulous, the latter asked the former
hnw Iia rumft in Ytxvn a wnndn law iTTlm !
said he, 'my father had one and so had my
grand-father before him ; it runs in the blood. ;
Itisnoteosy to give the raadcr an idea cf
this remarkable city croisel anl r.'Crjsaelby
canals in all directions a city half water and
half land in which the cvnals are the streets
and highways, leading towards the open sea,
which seems to hold the city in its arms. It it
only by means of expensive and most substan
ti l dykes an 1 sluices, el iborately constructed
and cirefully repaired, an.1 guarded, that the
sea is kept ba2'i, aa I bat for these, this city,
containing upward- of two hundred thousand
inhabitants, would inevitably' be 'submerged
and destroyed. Four great canals run across
the city in parallel curved lines, and, crossing
these, are a series cf other canals, converging
in the harbor like the lines of a fan. Large ba
sins occur here and there at intervals. Tho
buildings In the best part of the city are mag
nificent many of them of great age, bearing
rich and grotesqte ornamental work on their
fronts. You would scarcely believe thai the
soil under these m ijestic buildings was only
loose sand and soft mud ! Yet it is so :
ci d it is only by means of piles of wood
driven far down through the sand into the so
lid stratum. beneath, that a foundation has
been gained. Hence Erasmus said of Am
sterdam, that the iuhabitants like crows, liv
ed on the tops of trees. Any one who merely
pays a passing visit to Amsterdam, as I did,
c mnot fail to be thrown into a state cf perplex
ity and amaze, by the apparent inextricable
complicity of the city ; its inntmerable bridg
es; its endless succession of canals, and its
interminable brick streets. The canals and
bridges so much resemble each other, that the
stranger without a guide feels as if he were
wandering in alibyrinth; he loses all recol
lection of the points of the compass ; and, as I
did, be will soon probably lose his way. Tho
most interesting public building in Amster
d tm is now use.l as a royal palace. The great
feature of its interior is its grand hali, lined
with white Italian marble, said to be the
finest hall cf the kind in the world. The small
est apaartments in the palace contain scmo
fine modern Dutch paintings, to which the
public are freely admitted. One painting, rep
resenting the hero, Van Speyk,-applying the
match to blow up his vessel, at Antwerp, ra
ther than allow it to be taken by the Belgians,
is one that lives long in the memory of Lim
who has seen it. To those who have liesure,
the Museum, or National Picture Gullery, is
well worthy of a visit. But pictures can be
seen at home and are no novelty. The real in
terest of Amsterdam is in its streeis, quays its
bustle and commerce, its bridges and canals,
and Die many b!ri".;ir.g and peculiir features of
this city of tho sia features which are no
where to be found han.cteristic of any city in
Europe, north of Venice.
T.v : ee t .t so e iii"
'Mary,' said George, 'next summer I will
not have a girden. Our pretty tree is dying
and I wont have another tree as long as I live.
I will h ive a bird next summer and it will stay
all winter.'
'George, don't you remember my beautiful
canary bird,, and it died in the middle of si m
mer, and we planted bright flowers in the gar
den where we buried it ? My bird did net livo
so long us the tvee.'
'Well I dont see as we Cin love anything.
Little brother died before the bird and I loved
him better than any bird, tree, or flower. Oh!
I wish we could Lave something to love that
would not die.'
Geor. e let us go, into the house. I don't
want to look at our tree any longer.'
The day passed, During the school hours,
George and Mary had almost forgotten that
their tree was dying, but at evening as they
drew their chairs to the table where their
mother was sitting, and began to arrange the
seeds that had been from day to day gathering
the remembrance of their tree came upon
Mother ' sai. I Mary, you may give those
seeds to cousin John; I never want another
Yes,' added George, 'you give thtra all
away. If I could find some seeds of a tree
that wouli never fade, I should love to havo
a garden. I wonder if there ever was such a
garden, mother?
Yes, George, I have read of a garden where
the trees never die.'
A real garden, mother?
Yes. my son. In the middle of the garden
I have been told, ther j runs a pure river of
water, clear as crystal, and on each de is the
Tret of Life a tree that never fades. The
gard ?n is Heaven. There you may live and
love forever. There will be no death no fa
ding there. Love the Saviour here, and nc
will prepare you to dwell in those green pas
tures, and besiie those still waters.'
1X7" Mrs. Harris says that foreigners resem
ble one another so much that she can't; more
than half tho time tell an ourang-outang from
a Frenchman.; The old lady is gettiug not
only impatient but personal.
C7"If marriages bo made in Heaven some
peopla have few friend there, , . '
E7"When is an ox not an oxl : When he is
turned into a meadow. - - '
BFahionibIe modes of death -duelling and
tight lacing.
n n

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