into this room, placed him in the patient's chair, and proceeded to examine his jaws. I don't think I ever saw a finer or more regular set of teeth,— not a vestige of decay could I perceive in any of them-and the one which he pointed out as the offender seemed to me perfectly free from disease. However, he insisted so strongly on having the tooth pulled out, declaring that his comfort, nay, his very life, depended on its being done, that I consented, though most unwillingly, to perform the operation, and in a twinkling the tooth was out. Having paid me my fee, the patient deliberately wrapped up his tooth, put it into his pocket, rose, and wishing me good-night, was about to depart, when a suspicion which arose in my mind caused me suddenly to thrust a lighted candle close to his eyes. They never blinked; the pupils were fixed and distended: in fact, to cut the story short, my visitor was fast asleep, and in a fit of somnambulism had left his bed, and caused me to extract his excellent tooth. As he still continued in the trance, and it would have been dangerous to arouse him suddenly, I prevailed on him to allow me to accompany him home. He made his way with unerring accuracy to the hotel; and the gates happening to be open for the reception of the occupants of a night-coach, I was able to see him to his room without attracting observation. "On inquiring after him next morning, I heard that he had left by an early conveyance for E, in Devonshire.' of their own, somewhat after the fashion of the Happy Family. The town was in the midst of the desert, and the houses consisted of little mounds, about three feet in diameter at the base, and not more than two in height. They might have been thousands in number, or any number of thousands, for they covered the level desert towards three of the four cardinal points as far as the eye could reach. These dwellings were not new; they might have been very old, for they were clothed all round with smooth green turf, excepting the neighborhood of the door-place, near the top. "The inhabitants of these singular dwellings soon began to show themselves. They had been terrified by the thundering tread of the steeds, and had hidden at their approach. All was now silent again, and they thought they might venture abroad. First one little snout peeped out, and then another, and another, until every hole had a head and a pair of sparkling eyes looking forth. After a while, the owners of the heads became more courageous, and boldly stepped out of doors; and there could be seen hundreds of these strange creatures. They were of a reddish-brown color, with breasts and bellies of a dirty white. Their bodies were about the size of the common gray squirrel; but their general appearance partook of the squirrel, the weasel, and the rat-all three of which they in some respects resembled, and yet they were not like any of them. They were a distinct species of animals. They were marmots, that species known by the fanciful name of prairie-dogs (Arctomys ludoviciana). Their tails were very short, and not bushy, as those of squirrels; and, altotry of those animals. In a short time, every mound had two or three on its top-for several individuals dwell together in the same house. Some sat upon all-fours, while others erected themselves on their hind feet, and stood up like little bears or monkeys-all the while flourishing their tails, and uttering their tiny barking, that sounded like the squeak of a toy-dog. It was from this that they derive the name of prairiedogs, for in nothing else do they resemble the canine species. Like all marmots-and there are many different kinds. they are innocent little creatures, and live upon grass, seeds, and roots. "Here then was the explanation of my poor They must eat very little; and indeed it is a friend's monomania He actually died the vic-puzzle to naturalists how they maintain themselves. tim of somnambulism. And such was my first Their "great towns near the Rocky Mountains adventure as executor to a will."-Eliza Cook's are generally in barren tracks, where there is but Journal. a scanty herbage; and yet the inhabitants are never found half a mile from their dwellings. How, then, do thousands of them subsist on what little grass can grow in a pasture so circumscribed? This has not been explained, nor is it known why they choose these barren tracts for their dwellingplaces in preference to the more fertile prairies. All these things await the study and observation of the historian of nature. “I looked attentively at the dentist; he was a tall man, dressed in black, with a white neckcloth; his head was large, nearly bald, and he wore a pair of gold spectacles, which had a trick of slip-gether, their bodies had not the graceful symmeping down to the point of his long nose whenever he shook his head, which he did pretty frequently. "Did you ever ascertain,' I asked, 'the name your visitor?' of "Yes,' replied the dentist. He took the blank back of a letter from his pocket, and tore off the corner to wrap up his tooth; the remainder he dropped on the carpet, and it bore the address: 'Capt. H. Ellis, '-th Regiment, 'Devonshire.' These individuals formed the bulk of the inha A HAPPY COMMUNITY. SHALL we write about the leaping tarantula, as large as the humming-bird it hunted, netted, and killed?-or of the large clew of hair, or greyish wool, half-buried in the ground, which suddenly turned into a 'possum, and springing upon a hare which had stood wondering what the curious object might be, killed it at a single "crunch ?"-orbitants of the dog-town, as our author calls it— of the grizzly bear which, being no climber, besieged the boys ever so long at the foot of the trees on which they had taken refuge? No; we will rather take, as something still more curious, the description of a very large community of animals of various species, living naturally in a town the common people, or working-classes, by whom the houses had doubtless been constructed; but there were other portions of the population quite as interesting in their way. Let us notice, first, the white owls, which burrow in the earth (Striz cunicularia), and were seen gliding silently about, barked at the intruders, shook their short tails. and then whisked themselves off into their holes, Whenever the party had got past, a hundred yards or so, the marmots would come forth again, and utter their tiny cough-like notes as before; so that, when our travellers were fairly into the town, they found themselves at all times in the centre of a barking circle! or standing on the tops of the houses looking round them. These are the feudal aristocracy of the place, fallen a little into the arrear of time, and affecting old castles and such antiquated dwellings. They inhabit houses originally obtained by conquest from the prairie-dogs, but have suffered them to fall into dilapidation and decay. It is on antiquity they pride themselves, and being indulged in this, they live on very peaceable, but The owls rose up before them, alighting at possibly on very supercilious terms with their short distances; then, once more startled, they neighbors. Another order of the inhabitants was would fly further off, sometimes sailing away until the ground rattlesnake (Crotalus tergeminus), a out of sight, and sometimes, like the marmots, class which, although powerful and therefore re-hiding themselves within the burrows. The ratspectable, the rest of the community perhaps did tlesnakes, too, betook themselves to the burrows, not mix with on very easy terms. It is even said, and so did the lizards and agamas. What apthat they have been found occasionally with the peared most strange was, that of all these creayoung of the prairie-dogs in their possession; but tures-marmots, owls, snakes, lizards, and agathis, we are inclined to hope, may have been the mas-were observed, when suddenly escaping, result of some peculiar and unfrequent temptation. sometimes to enter the same mound! This our Next, there were the lizards, that were seen in travellers witnessed more than once. great numbers, scuttling about the mounds; then The following is a description of the houses as the land-tortoise (Cestudo), squatting upon the given by one of the adventurers:-"The holes," ground; and then the horned-frog (Agama cor- said he, "had we time to dig them up, would be Anta), crawling slowly about-a hideous creature, found to descend perpendicularly for two or half toad, half lizard in shape, and with the back, three feet. Then run obliquely for several feet shoulders, and head covered with thornlike pro- further, and end in a little chamber, which is the tuberances. All these were probably the lowest real house of the marmot; I say the real house, classes, the vagabonds and riff-raff of the popu- for these cone-like mounds are only the entrances. lation; and some of them, no doubt, fall a prey They have been formed out of the earth brought to the aristocratic owls. When the boy-adven- up from below at the making of the burrows. As turers came upon this place, they were at some you see, this earth has not been allowed to lie in loss how to proceed. a neglected heap, such as rats and rabbits leave at the mouths of their burrows. On the contrary, it has been built up with great care, and beaten together by the marmots' feet until quite firm and smooth; and the grass has been allowed to grow over it, to save it from being washed down by rain. It is evident the animal does all this with design-just as beavers, in building their houses. Now, upon these mounds the marmots love to bask, and amuse themselves in the sun; and it is likely that they can watch their enemies better from this elevated position, and thus gain time to make good their retreat." Since the snakes occasionally kill the young marmots, it is inquired, what is to prevent them from killing the old ones too? They can enter the burrows with as much ease as the marmots themselves. As it was now afternoon, and the butte still appeared distant, they made but a short halt-just long enough to swallow a morsel of meat, and take a drink from their water-gourds, which, owing to the intense heat, were now better than half empty. Their animals already suffered from thirst; 80, without delay, the young hunters got into their saddles, with the intention of continuing their journey. "Across the dog-town?" inquired François, who had mounted first. "Shall we ride through it, or go round ?" Here was a difficulty, indeed. The dog-town lay directly between them and the butte. To keep straight forward, they would have to ride through it. That would impede them to a considerable extent, as they could only ride slowly, and in zig-zag lines, without danger. To go round it, on the other hand, might lead them miles out of the way-perhaps many miles-for these marmot villages are frequently of large extent. "That is true," was the reply, "but not half so nimbly; and perhaps the latter can even escape them within. The rattlesnake is a very slow crawler; and, besides, only strikes his prey when coiled up. Perhaps, in these subterranean gal"Let us go south a bit," advised Lucien. leries, he is still less able to capture it; and the "Perhaps we may come to the end of it that way." ." old marmots may, after all, have some mode of They all turned their horses for the south, defending both themselves and their young ones and commenced riding in that direction. They from his venemous attacks. As yet, very little rode for at least two miles, keeping along the is known of these creatures. The remote regions border of the settlement; but they could still see in which they are found place them beyond the it a-head, apparently stretching for miles further. observation of naturalists; and such of these as "We have come the wrong way," said Lucien; have visited their towns, have been only allowed we might have done better had we turned north. time to make a hurried examination of them.We must cross it now; what say you, brothers ?" They are very shy, rarely letting you get within All agreed to this; for it is not very pleasant range of a gun; they are, therefore, seldom shot to be going about when the goal of one's journey at. Moreover, it takes great trouble to capture is within sight. So the heads of the horses were them by digging, on account of the depth of their brought round once more facing the butte; and burro vs; and as their skins are not very valuable, the party rode in among the mounds, and pro- and their flesh but a bite at best, they are not ceeded slowly, and with great caution. As they often molested by the hunter." approached, the little dogs ran to their hillocks, "But are they eatable?" inquired François. "Yes," answered Lucien; "the Indians are very fond of their flesh, and eat it whenever they can conveniently get it; but, indeed, they will do the same for almost every living creature.' "What do marmots feed upon in winter when there is no grass for them?" inquired François. "They then lie torpid. They have nests in their subterranean chambers, and curious nests these are. They are constructed of grass and roots, are as round as a globe, and so firmly woven together, that one of them might be kicked over the prairie like a football. The nest is within, with a small hole leading into it, just large enough to admit your finger; for when the marmot goes inside, he closes all up, except this little hole, through which he gets all the air he requires. In these snug beds they lie asleep during the cold season, and at that time are rarely een outside their burrows." Conversing in this way, the young hunters rode on, keeping as far from the edges of the mounds as possible, lest the hoofs of their horses might sink in the excavated ground. They had ridden full five miles, and still the marmot village stretched before them! still the dogs on all sides uttered their "choo-choo"-still the owls flapped silently up, and the rattlegiakes crowded across their track. The lizard tribe, some members of which, we have seen, were citizens of the Happy Community, appear to be among the most various in the American desert. The chameleon mentioned at the commencement was a lizard, and so was an enemy which avenged the destruction of the tarantula. trunk, and rushing outwards, sprang upon the chameleon. The latter, thus suddenly attacked, dropped the spider; and at first showed an intention of retreating. Had he done so, the scorpion would have followed him no further-as its only object in attacking him was to rob him of his prey. The chameleon, however, is a courageous little animal; and seeing that his assailant was not much bigger than himself--for the animal in question was one of the smallest of the skink family-he turned again, and shewed fight. His threat swelled to its largest extent, and grew brighter than ever. Both now stood facing each other, and about twelve inches apart, in threatening attitudes.Their eyes sparkled; their forked tongues shot forth, glittering in the sun; and their heads at intervals rose and fell, in a manoeuvring manner, like a pair of pugilists "coming to the scratch." After a short while, they sprang at each other open-jawed; wriggled over the ground a moment, their tails flying in the air-then separated, and again assumed their defiant attitudes, manoeuvring as before. In this manner they met and parted several times, neither seeming to have gained much advantage. The weakest part of the green lizard lies in his tail. So tender is this appendage, that the slightest blow of a small switch will separate it from the body. The skink seemed to be aware of this fact, as he several times endeavoured to get around his antagonist, or, in military phraseology to "turn him. It was evidently his intention to attack the tail. This the chameleon dreaded, and was equally desirous not to be "out-flanked!" In whatever way the skink manœuvred, his antagonist met him with his scarlet front. For several minutes the battle raged, these little creatures exhibiting as much fury and fierceness as if they had been a pair of great crocodiles. The chameleon at length began to shew symp "Look-brothers look! A scorpion-lizard!" Basil and Lucien cast their eyes where François pointed-up to the trunk of a tree that rose over the spot where the chameleon was crawling. About twenty feet from the ground was a dark, round hole, evidently the former rest of the red-toms of giving out. The throat grew paler, the bellied woodpecker (Picus Carolinus.) The birds, however, which made that nest had deserted it; for it was now occupied by a creature of a far different kind-a scorpion-lizard-whose red head and brown shoulders at the moment protruded from the hole. All who have travelled the great American forests are familiar with such a sight, for this animal may be often observed in similar situations. A more disagreeable sight is rarely met with.The scorpion-lizard, with his red head and olivebrown body, is a hideous-looking reptile at best; but when thus peering from his gloomy tree-cave, moving his pointed snout from side to side, his dark eyes glancing all the while with a fierce, malignant expression, it is difficult to conceive a more vicious-looking creature. His head was in motion when François spokefor it was this that had caught the eye of the boy. It was moving from side to side, protruded from the hole, the snout pointing downwards.The animal was watching the ground below, and evidently preparing to issue forth, and come down. The chameleon, rustling over the dead leaves, had attracted his attention. As quick as lightning, his whole body appeared upon the tree, and lay flat along the bark, head downwards. Here he halted for a moment; then, raising his shoulders, he ran nimbly down the green became less vivid, and it was evident that he was getting the worst of it. The scorpion now made a rush, and threw the other upon his back. Before the chameleon could recover himself, his antagonist seized his tail, and bit it off close to the body. The poor little fellow, feeling that he had lost more than half his length, scuttled away, and hid himself among the logs. The scorpionlizard, however, in his turn met with retribution. While the fight was raging, a slight movement in the leaves above had attracted the attention of the boys. The next moment, a red object was thrust downward, until a foot or so of it appeared hanging clear of all the branches. It was about the thickness of a walking-cane; but the glistening scales and the elegantly curving form told that this singular object was a serpent. It did not remain stationary. It was slowly and gradually letting itself down-for more of its body was every moment becoming visible, until a full yard of it hung out from the leaves. The remainder was hidden by the thick foliage, where its tail, no doubt, was coiled around a branch.— That part of the body that was seen was of a uniform blood-red colour, though the body, or under side, was much the lighter. This was the red snake of the Rocky Mountains (Coluber testaces), and is found only in the Far West. The skink at this moment perceived the long red body of the serpent dangling above him; and knowing, from experience, a terrible enemy, ran off, endeaTouring to hide himseif in the grass. Instead of making for a tree-where he might have escaped by his superior nimbleness-his confusion and terror led him out into the open ground. The snake dropped from the mulberry and glided after, with his head raised high in the air, and his jaws wide open. In a second or two he overtook the lizard; and, striking forward and downward, killed it upon the spot. The serpent in its turn becomes the prey of another animal; and so on, till the "chain of destruction" is complete. We confess, however, we are better pleased, though less excited, by the picture of the dog-town, where lizards, snakes, owls, prairie-dogs, and other creatures of various races, live in what is, comparatively at least, a Happy Community. We might easily fill our sheet with extracts as good as the above, for, in fact, the whole volume is quotable; but as we have no doubt it will be extensively read, both in England and America, we think it unnecessary to do more than refer our young readers, and old ones to, to the work itself. -Chambers' Journal. THE TREE OF DEATH. Let the King of the Grave be asked to tell Though 'tis ever the churchyard's guest: He will not mark the hemlock dark, Nor stay where the nightshade spreads; He will not say 'tis the sombre yew, Though it springs o'er skeleton heads; I will crouch amid the emerald leaves, I dip my spear in the poison here, And he is strong that escapes. Crowds dance round with Satyr bound, Till my dart is hurled from its tractor sheath, There's a taint about each tendrilled arm, But the frenzied mirth of a revelling crew Fill, fill the glass, and let it pass, But ye who quaff, oh! think That even the heart that loves must loathe The lips that deeply drink. WE CALL ON THE DOCTOR AND SEE MARY. ABOUT seven o'clock, on demanding admittance to Dr. Bernard, we were ushered into a large and handsomely furnished drawing-room. The servant who had gone to announce us, shortly returned, requesting us to wait a few minutes as the doctor was then engaged. In the meantime, Writ was expatiating on the doctor's character, as a man and physician, giving him the highest praise for the diligence with which he investigated all cases of insanity coming under his care; indeed were one to believe the half that Writ said in his favor, the conclusion would be that the doctor was an exceedingly good and clever man. Happily for me, the doctor interrupted Writ's laudations, for I began to tire, not being one of those who either believe in, or seek for perfection in this world. The doctor, a man apparently not exceeding forty, rather stout, with a fat, red, good-natured face, advanced, cordially shaking Writ by the hand and bowing to me, bade us be seated. On my making known the object of my visit, the doctor said that he was pleased to inform me that Mary was so far recovered that she would be able to return to her father's before the ensuing Christmas. Writ, as well as myself, were rather unprepared for this piece of good news; and on my requesting to hear the history of her case, the doctor no doubt pleased at the interest I manifested in his patient, detailed to me fully, not only her symptoms and the mode of cure he practised, but also entered into the probability of her having a relapse, and the best method of preventing such a recurrence. "She always," he said, "while in my care, enjoyed good health. At first she appeared melancholy and subject to frequent fits of abstraction, caused, doubtless, by her removal from home and friends, but in a few months she improved; yet still a certain melancholy which I feared I should fail in entirely removing, pervaded her counteShe was never unhappy, but said she was nance. • Continued from page 195, vol. ii.-Conclusion. fond of thinking. Whenever I asked her to relate to me her thoughts, she would with the greatest delight, tell some fancy tale of angels, beautiful and fair, hovering over the world, watching the affairs of man. Indeed, when first I received her, she went so far as to declare she saw the happy beings she spoke of, and even heard them whispering to each other, or singing songs of praise; and when they sang, she said she could see the spirit of the song ascending like incense to the high heavens. These were her worst symptoms. I thought it necessary to consult with some of my brother physicians on her case, which was certainly the most extraordinary one I ever witnessed. In our consultations we were seldom unanimous; some asserting most positively that she was an impostor, while others, flying to the opposite extreme ventured to question the possibility of her not holding communion with some unseen spirit. However, this was simply absurd, and her being an impostor I considered equally ridiculous, for the history of her life, which I had received from her father, forbade in me any such supposition. An impostor has generally some design to further, some object to attain, but what design or object, may I ask, could this girl have in view, when she came under my care at sixteen years of age?" The doctor had allowed himself to be carried away by his relation; he had risen from his chair, and standing before us with his back to the fire, gesticulated in a most theatrical style. Without awaiting a reply to his question, he continued, with renewed earnestness. "However, steadily and gradually I worked all these idle fancies out of her head. I kept her constantly employed on various easy tasks, that required the steady exercise of the mind without fatiguing it; and then, seeing that she was quick at learning, I had her taught many little accomplishments, which will ever be to her a source of amusement, as painting, music, dancing, singing. For a long time, I would not allow her to see or read any religious book or go to church. I know that there are many who would blame me for my mode of treatment, but I can safely say, that to this procedure is due the restoration of her mind. And now," continued the doctor, in a self-cangratulatory manner, that I must say displeased me, "you see the benefit of the course I adopted. She is about to be restored to a fond father and an affectionate sister; she courts not that solitude which was formerly so dangerous to her, nor does she devote so much of her time to religious pursuits, as she once did. She is now contented, and, I believe, for the first time in her life, truly happy. Her father, whose visits I forbade, will be greatly surprised in once more receiving his daughter; but he must not retain her. If she returns to her own home to live, I fear she will have a relapse; she must be placed in some town, with friends who mix more with the world than honest Mr. Tindal; where she will have an opportunity of amusing or employing herself in the manner she has lately been accustomed to do; and then I have no doubt but that she will live long and happily, and form, in her humble capacity, a useful ornament to society." "Bravo!" cried Writ. I thanked the doctor for his kindness in detailing so fully her case, and ventured to request an introduction to his fair patient. "Willingly," replied the doctor. "I left her poring over a novel in the private sitting-room. We will go to her." "No! she was mad, simply mad. But her insanity was of the most dangerous kind to herself and friends, if she were permitted to be at large. It was fortunate for her, and perhaps many others in this world, that her neighbors shunned her as a child. Her ramblings were such when I first saw her, as would lead the ignorant or half-educated, to regard her as a messenger from heaven. Her little religious tales of what Leaving the room we followed Dr. Bernard up she fancied she saw, were precisely of the charac-stairs to the apartment occupied by Mary Tindal. ter to seize on the half-cultivated minds of those On entering, we found her reclining on a sofa, who would most likely be her associates while she occupied her father's home. Such being the case, how likely would it be for her fame to spread, her sayings to be noised abroad: many would then come to see her, to pray with her, to listen to her rhapsodies; to, in fact, become her devout and humble followers, looking on her as a saint or angel; and she cunning enough in her madness to see that with a little tact all this might be turned to her advantage, would then become the impostor that some of my friends would have made her, on our consultations. seemingly deeply interested with some book she held in her hand; she did not notice our entrance, but on hearing the doctor's voice, started up, blushing with confusion on discovering that strangers were present. She, however, recognized Writ, and soon was holding an animated conversation with that gentleman and the doctor, which I enjoyed extremely, though I did not take part in it; for I was looking over a sketch-book of hers, which the doctor had placed in my hands. The sketches were for the most part fanciful, |