opening in sight. The sun has gone down. The light coming through the openings above growing less and less. The sky overcast. Soon it is dark. I miss the trail. I get down on my hands and knees to feel for it. Presently no sound but the cracking of the underbrush. Suddenly it dawns upon me that I am lost in the woods. All sense of direction is gone. Any way I turn may be the wrong way. I am utterly aimless. Jesus says the end of the selfish man is utter aimlessness. That as a man in the woods wanders without aim so the selfish man wanders in the moral universe without aim, not knowing whither he goeth.—Robert McLaughlin.
(59)
It is told of Professor Huxley that once, when the British Association met in Dublin, he arrived late in the city; fearing to miss the president's address, he rushed from the train to the station platform, jumped on a jaunting-car, and said to the Celt in charge, "Drive fast; I'm in a hurry." Cabby whipt up his horse and proved to be another Jehu. Suddenly it flashed upon the passenger, bounding about the vehicle in a most undignified way, to shout to the driver above the rattle of the car, "Do you know where I want to go?" "No, yer honor," was Pat's laughing rejoinder, "but I'm driving fast all the while."
There are many who keep up a great
activity, but who, for want of a definite
aim or a great guiding ideal, accomplish
little good in the world.
(60)
AIR, EFFECTS OF
Attention has been called to some curious
effects of rarefied and of condensed air on
human respiration. On high mountains some
persons experience distressing shortness of
breath, one result of which is that they are
unable to whistle. Precisely the same effect
is sometimes produced by the condensed air
in caissons and diving-bells. Laborers working
in comprest air frequently find, however,
that their powers of exertion are increased as
long as the atmospheric pressure is not more
than double that of ordinary air; but beyond
that point unpleasant effects are experienced
after the men have left the working shafts
and returned into the open air. On the other
hand, high atmospheric pressure in the case
of persons not doing manual labor has been
found to act as a mental stimulus, increasing
the impulse to talk.—Harper's Weekly.
(61)
Air of Sea as Purifier—See Purification.
Airship Flight—See Ambition.
ALCOHOLIC BAIT
In May, 1880, on Platt River, in Benzie
County, Michigan, an old man was showing
an Indian named Pokagon how to catch
pigeons in their nesting-place. He led him
to an open pole-pen which he called his bait-bed,
where he scattered a bucketful of wheat.
While the two watched in ambush the pigeons
poured into the pen and gorged themselves.
"Come on, you redskin," said the old man
to Pokagon, and they caught about a hundred
fine birds. "How did you do it?" asked
the Indian in surprize. With one eye half
shut and a sly wink with the other, the old
man replied: "That wheat was soaked in
whisky."
How many other than birds have
been snared by the same whisky-bait!
(62)
ALIBI
A distinguished jurist once sat down
to a course dinner. He had been waited on
by one servant during two courses. He had
had the soup. Another servant came to
him and said, "Sir, shall I take your order?
Will you have some of the chicken soup?"
"No, sir; I have been served with chicken
soup, but the chicken proved an alibi."—George
M. Palmer.
(63)
Alleviation—See Drudgery Relieved.
ALLUREMENT, FATAL
The Judas-tree, so-called, is a remarkable
plant. Its blossoms appear before
its leaves, and are a most brilliant
crimson. The flowers flaming forth, attract
innumerable insects. The bee, for
instance, in quest of honey, is drawn to it.
But searching the petals for nectar, it imbibes
a fatal opiate. Beneath this Judas-tree
the ground is strewn with the victims
of its deadly fascination.
(64)
Flicker-flick,
Above the wick,
Burned the candle flame.
Through the open window-shutter
Young Moth Miller came.
Straight he fluttered toward the yellow,
Bright, alluring thing.
And, alas, poor foolish fellow
Scorched his downy wing!
