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A Would-be Suicide. —A little man in the west of Alary-land rushed to the i’olorn a c Hirer last summer, swearing that lie would drown himself. When he waded in to the depth of his waist, his wife who had followed him, seized him by the hair, and led him back to a place where the water was about two feet deep, where she palled him over backward, soused his head under, and then pulled it up again, loudly exclaiming,—“ Drown yourself (down he went), leaving me to keep the children (another plunge), git drunk (another din), and start for the river (another QlunoeL .Better to use water than gin (nnothcr'dip and a shake of his head.) I’ll teach you to teave me a widow." After sousing him to her heart’s content, she led him out a wetter, if not a wiser man, and escorting him in to the house, shut the door. Aldekman Gad in el and Ritualism. —Some of the Church papers have fallen into an amusing mistake respecting thej Lord A 1 ayor of London in his connexion! with the recent meeting in the city on the! subject of ritualism. Both the Duardianj and the Church Times are very sarcastic*!; about a Jew meddling with such questions ; but Alderman Gabriel, the present Lord I ! Mayor of London, is, we understand, not! [a Jew, but a Christian, and a member of] It.ho Wesleyan Methodist body. — Pall Mall; Gazette. ’ !

my neighbour with considerable curiosity. Ill's face indicated a man of not over thirty years—a period at which men ere still young—but in* hair was as white ns freshfallen snow. One seldom sees, even on the heads of the oldest men, hair of such immaculate. vviiHc-ness. lie sat hy mv side jin a car on the (.trust. Western Ksilfuad in Canada, and was looking out of the win|dow. Suddenly turning his head, ho caught Imu in the act of staring at him —a rudeness |of which I was ashamed. I was about to ;say words of apology, when lie quietly reImarked, “ Don’t mention it, sir. I’m used | to it.” Tlie frankness of this observation | pleased mo, and in a very little while we ; went conversing on terms of familiar acquaintanceship, and before long he told me '-he whole story. “ I was a soldier in the army of India,” said he, “ and, as is often the case with soldiers, I was a little too fond of liquor. One day I got drunk, and . was shut up in the black hole for it. t slumped down upon the floor of the dunIgeon, and I was just dropping oif to sleep, jwhonlfelt u cold, slimy shape crawling | across my right hand as it lay stretched out j above mv head on the floor. I knew at once what it was —a snake! Of course my ■ first impulse was (o draw away my hand ; jbut knowing that if 1 did so the poisonous j reptile would probably strike its fangs into line, I lay still, with ray heart beating in jmy breast like a trip hammer Of course :my fright sobered me instantly. I realised jail my peril in its fullest extent. Oh, how I lamented the hour that I first touched liquor. la every glass of liquor there is a serpent; but it docs not come to everybody in the shape that it did to me. With a slow, undulating motion, the reptile dragged its carcase across my face, inch by iueu, und crept down over my breast, and thrust its head inside my jacket. As 1 felt the hideous scraping of the slimy body over my cheeks, it was only by a most tremendous effort that 1 succeeded in restraining myself from yelling loudly with mingled terror and disgust. At last I felt live tail wriggling down toward my chin ; but imagine what L fell at my heart, if you can imagine it, as I realised that the dreadful creature had coiled itself up under my jacket as 1 lay, and had seemingly gone to sleep, for it was as still as death. Evidently it had no idea that I was a human creature : if it had it would not have acted in that way. All snakes are cowardly, and they will not approach a man unless to strike him in self-defence. Three hours I lay with that dreadful weight in my bosom, and each minute was like an hour—like a [year. I seemed to have lived a lifetime in j that brief space. Every incident of my j life passed through my memory in quick ■ suee sslon, as they say is the ease with a I drowning man. I thought of my mother away in old England; my happy homo |by the Avon ; my Mary—the girl I loved and never expected to see them more. For no matter how long I bore this, I felt that it must end in death at last. 1 lay as rigid las a corpse, scarcely daring oven to breathe, (and all the while my breast wa- growing [colder and colder, where the snake was [lying against, with nothing but a thin cotton shirt between my skin and its. I knew | that if I stirred it would strike, but I could I not bear this much longer. Even if I sucjceeded in lying still until the guard came, ! f expected his opening the door and cornling in would bo my death-warrant all the jsume ; for no doubt the reptile would see that 1 was a man as soon as the light was let in at the door. At last I heard footsteps approaching. There was a rattling at the door. I" was the guard. He opened (lie door. The snake—a cobra di capello, t now saw—darted up its huge hooded bend, with the hideous rings around its eyes, as if about to strike. I shut my eyes and mannered a prayer. Then it glided away with swift motion and disappeared in the darkness. I staggered to my feet and fell swooning in the arms of the guard. For weeks after I was very sick, and when I was able to bo about I found my hair as white as you now see it. I have not touched a drop of liquor since.” i Deposition of Dew. —Tf the sky bo [clouded over, tire force of radiation is suspended, the cooling does not go on, since (the clouds reflect back to the earth most of the heat which it radiates. Nor is radiation, [limited by clouds only. Whatever dimiu« , ishes the view of the sky from the radiating [surface lessens the force of radiation and the deposit of dew. The thinnest cambrio handkerchief spread out, and suspended a little above the ground, diminishes radiai ion, as do mure completely trees, houses, and whatever objects interrupt a lull view of the sky. Supposing the radiating power of the ground to be equal, more dew. will be deposited on a flat, open surface than on inclined ground. An elevated open i plain will receive more dew than one of the [same extent lower down, as the latter comjruands a less expanse of sky. The valley radiates less than the plain, and less dew is formed where the free view of the sky is broken by walls and hedges. Less dew is formed under the branches of a tree than in the open space beyond; less dew ia formed on windy than on calm nights, j Dew is even formed in dry weather on !grass several hours before sunset, and it [continues to form in shaded places after [sunrise ; but the most favorable time for idew is under a clear nocturnal sky, where radiation is unchecked. Of course radiation iis going on by day, but then the earth receives more heat from the sun than it parts [with, and thus does not cool down.—“ The i Science of Common Things,” in the People’s Magazine.

Permanent link to this item
Hononga pūmau ki tēnei tūemi

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/HBT18671216.2.5

Bibliographic details
Ngā taipitopito pukapuka

Hawke's Bay Times, Volume XII, Issue 534, 16 December 1867, Page 1

Word count
Tapeke kupu
1,324

Untitled Hawke's Bay Times, Volume XII, Issue 534, 16 December 1867, Page 1

Untitled Hawke's Bay Times, Volume XII, Issue 534, 16 December 1867, Page 1

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