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lewis >i. grist, proprietor, j Jfifttpitfonf Jfamilg ^tcfasgapcr: Jfor l|t promotion of tfje ^oliiiral, jsotial, ^grimltaral anb Commtrtial Jfnfmsfs of % South. j terms--$2.50 a year, in advance. VOL. 33. YOEKVILLE, S. C.. WEDNESDAY. JUNE 1, 1887. NO. 22. |t ferial ftorg. BY H. RIDER HAGGARD, AUTHOR OF "KINO "SOLOMON'S MINES," "SHE," ETC., ETC. CHAPTER XIII. FRANK MULLEB SHOWS HIS HAND. Presently Muller turned round. "Do you know why I have told you this, Om Silas?" he asked. "No." un t ~tW. UWOU3C X ITQUV JVU VW uumv*0V?M*?. ? you and all the Englishmen in this country are in a very dangerous position. The war is a coming, and whether it goes for you or against you, you must suffer. You Englishmen have many enemies. You have got all the trade and own nearly half the land, and you are always standing up for the black people, whom the Boers hate. It will go bard with you if there is a war. You will *" be shot and your liouste will be burned, and if you lose the day, those who escape will be driven out of the country. It will be the Transvaal for the Transvaalers, then, and Africa for the Afric:. aders.n "Well, Frank Muller, and if all this should come to pass, what of itt What are you driving at, Frank Muller? You don't show me your hand like this for nothing." The Boer laughed. "Of course I don't, Ont Silas. Well, if you want to know, I will tell you what I mean. I mean that I alone can protect you and your place and people in the bad times that are coming. I have more influence in the land than you know of. Perhaps, even, I could stave off the war, and if it suited me to do so I would do it At the least I could keep you from being harmed, that I know. But I have my price, Om Silas, as we all have, and it must be money down and no credit" "I don't understand you and your dark sayings," said the old man, coldly. "I am a straightforward man, and if you will tell me what you mean I will give you my answer; if not, I don't see the good of our going on talking." "very weu; a wui teu yuu nuwi i iutxui. a mean Bessia I mean that I love your niece and want to marry her?ay, I mean to marry her by fair means or foul?and that she will have nothing to say to me." "And what have I to do with that, Frank Mailer? The girl is her own mistress. I cannot dispose of her in marriage, even if i wanted to, as though she were a colt or an ox. Yon must plead your own suit and take your own answer." "I have pleaded my suit and I have got my answer," answered the Boer, with passion. "Don't you understand she will have nothing to say to me. She is in love with the d?d rooiboatje Nieb whom vou have brought up here. She is in love \.i?h him, I say, and will not look at me." "Ah," replied Silas Croft, calmly, "is that so) Then she shows very good taste, for John Niel is an honest man, Frank Muller, and you are not Listeif to me," he went on, with a sudden outburst of passion; "I tell you that yon are a dishonorable man and a villain. 1 tell you that you murdered the Hottentot Jantje's father, mother and uncle in cold blood when you were yet a lad. I tell you that the other day you tried to murder John Niel, pretending to mistake him for a buck! And now you, who petitioned for this country to be taken over by the queen, and have gone round singing out your loyalty at the top of your voice, come and tell me that you are plotting to bring about an insurrection and to plunge the land into war, and ask me for Bessie as the price of your protection! And now I will tell you something in answer,.Frank Mallar,"and thaold man rose up, his keen eyes flashing in wrath, and straightening bis bent frame, pointed toward the door. "Go out of that door mid never come through it again. I rely upon God and the English nation to protect me, and not on such as you, and 1 would rather see my dear Bessie dead iu her coffin than married to a knave and traitor and a murderer like Frank Muller. Go!" The Boer turned white with fury as he listened. Twice he tried to speak and failed, and when the words did come they were so choked and laden with passion as to be scarcely audiblo. When thwarted he was liable to these accesses of rage, and they, figuratively speaking, spoiled his character. Could he have kept his head, he would have been a perfect and triumphant villain; but as it was, the carefully planned and audacious rascality of years was always apt to be swept away by the sudden gale of his furious passion. It was in such an outburst of rage that ho. had assaulted John in the inn yard at Wakkerstroom, aud thereby put him on his guard against him and now it mastered him once mora "Very well, Silas Croft," he said at last, "I will go; but mark this, I will come back, and when I come it shall be with men armed with rifles. I will burn this pretty place of yours, that you are so proud of, over 3 our head, and I will kill you and your friend the Englishman, and take Bessie away, and very soon she will be glad enough to marry Frank Muller; but then I will not marry her?no, not if she goes on her^nees to me?and she shall go on her knees often enough. We will then see what God and the English nation will do to protect you. God and the English nation! Call on the sheep and the horses; call on the rocks and the trees, and you will get a better answer." "Go!" thundered the old man, "or by the God you blaspheme I will put a bullet through you," and be reached toward a rifle that hung over the mantelpiece, "or my Kaffirs shall whip you off the place." Frank Muller waited for 110 more. He turned and went. It was dark now, but there was still some light in the sky at the end of the blue gum avenue, and as he rode away against it he made out Bessie's tall and graceful form softly outlined upon the darkening night John had left her to seo about some pressing matter connected with the farm, and there she stood, filled with the great joy of a woman who has found her love, and loath as yet to break its spell by entering tirroir? ititn tVift flailtr lvtnnrl r\f nAmnmn 1 Jfo There sho stood, a type and symbol of all that is lxnutiful and gracious iu this rough world. Ihu lovelight shining in her blue eyes and thoughts of happy gratitude to the Giver of all good rising from her heart to heaven, drawn up thither, as it were, by the warmth of her pure passion, as the dew mists of the morning ore drawn upward by the sun. Presently she heard the horse's hoofs, and looked up, so that the faint light fell full upon her face, idealizing it and making its passion breathing beauty seem more of heaven than of earth. There was some look upon it, some indefinable light that day?such is the power that love has to infuse all human things with the tint of his own splendor?that it went even to the heart of the wild and evil man who adored her with tho deep and savage force of bis dark nature. For a moment he paused, half regretful, half afraid. Was it weH-to meddle with her and to build up plans for her overthrow and that of all she clung to? Would it not be better to let her be, to go his way and leave her to go hers, in peace? She did not look quite like a woman standing there, but more like something belonging to another world, some subject of a higher power. Men of powerful but undisciplined intellect like Frank Muller are never entirely y free from superstition, however free they *' may be from religion, and ho grew superstitious, as ho was apt to do. Might there not be an uuknown penalty for treading such a flower as that into the mire?into mire mixed perchance with the blood of those she loved? For a few seconds he hesitated. Should he throw up the whole thing, leave the rebellion to look after itself, marry one of Hans Coetzee's daughters, and trek to the Old Colony, or Becbuanaland, or anywhere? His hand began to tighten on his bridle rein and the horse to answer to the pressure. As a first step toward it he would turn away to the left and avoid her, when suddenly the thought of his successful rival flashed into his mind. "What! leave her with that man? Never! He had rather kill her with his own hand. Iu another second he had sprung from his horse, and, before she bad guessed who it was, was standing face to face with her. The strength of his jealous desire overpowered him. "Ah, I thought be had come after missie," said Jantje, who, pursuing his former tactics, was once more indulging his passion of sliuk* lg about behind trees and in tufts of grass. "Now what will missie say?" "How are you. Bessie?" he said, in a quiet voice; but she, looking into his face, saw that it belied his voice. It was alive with evil passions that seemed to make it positively lurid, an effect that its undoubted beauty only intensified. "I am quite well, thank you, Mr. Muller," she answered, as she began to move homeward, commanding her voice as well as she cpuld, but feeling d.vodfully frightened and lonely. She knew something of her admirer's character, and feared to be left alone with him, so far from any help, for nobody was about now, and they were more than 800 yards from the house. He stood before her, so that she could not pass without actually pushing past him. "Why are you in such a hurry?" be said. "You were standing still enough just now." "It is time for me to be getting in. I want to see about the supper." "The supper can wait a while, Bessie, and I cannot wait I am going off to Paorde Kraal to-morrow at daybreak, and I want to say good by to you first." "Good by," she said, more frightened than ever at his curious, constrained manner, and j she held out her hand. He took it and held it I "Please let me go," she said. "Not till you Lave heard what I have to say. Look here, Beanie, I love you with all my heart I know you think I am only a < Boer, but I am more than that I have been to the Cape and seen the world. I have brains, and can see and understand things, and if you will marry mo I will lift you up. You shall be. one of the greatest ladies in Africa, though I am only plain Prank Muller now. Great things are going to happen in the country, and I shall be at the head of them, or near it No, don't try to get away. I tell you I love you, you don't know how. I am dying for you. Oh! can't you believe mo, my darling! my darling! Yes, I will kiss you,*' and in an agony of passion, that her resistance only fired the more, he flung his strong arms round her and drew her to his breast, fight as she would. But at this opportune moment an unexpected diversion occurred, of which the hidden Jantje was the cause. Seeing that matters I were crettin? serious, and being afraid to show himself lest Frank Muller should kill him then aud there, as he would indeed have been quite capable of doing, be hit upon another expedient, to the service of which he brought a ventriloquistic power which is not uncommon among natives. Suddenly the silence was broken by a frightful and prolonged wail that seemed to shape itself into the word "Frank," and to proceed from the air just above the struggling Bessie's head. The effect produced upon Muller was something wonderful "Allemachter!" he cried, looking up, "it is my mother's voice!" "Frank!" wailed the voice again, and he let go of Bessie in his perplexity aud fear, and turned round to try and discover whence the sound proceeded?a circumstance that the youug lady took advantage of to beat a rapid if not very dignified retreat. "Frank! Frank! Frank!" wailed and howled the voice, now overhead, now on this side, now on that, till at last Muller, thoroughly mystified, and feeling his superstitious fears rising apace as the moaning sound flitted about beneath the dark arch of the gum trees, made a rush for his horse, which was stauding snorting and trembling in every limb. It is almost as easy to work upon the superstitious fears of a dog or a horse as upon those of a man, but Muller, not being aware of this, took the animal's alarm as a clear indication of the uncanny nature of the voice. "With a single bound he sprang into his saddle, and as he did so the woman's voice wailed out once more: "Frank, thou slialt die in blood as I did, Frank!" "KRANK, THOU SHALT DIE IN BLOOD." Muller turned livid with fear, and tbo cold perspiration streamed from his face. He was a bold man enough in a general way, but this was too much for his nerves. "It is my mother's voice, it is her very words!" he called out aloud, and then, dashing his spurs into his horse's flanks, he went like a flash away from the accursed spot; nor did be draw rein till he came to bis own pluee, ten miles away. Twice the horse fell in the darkness, for there was no moon, the second time throwing him heavily, but he only dragged it up with a curse, and, springing into the saddle again, fled on as before. Thus did the man who did not hesitate to plot and to execute the cruel slaughter of unoffending men cower beneath the fancied echo of a dead woman's -tfoicel Truly human nature is full of contradictions. When the thunder of the horse's hoofs grew faint Jantje emerged from one of his hiding places, and, throwing himself down in the center of the dusty road, kicked and rolled with delight, shaking all tho while with an inward joy that his habits of caution would not permit him to give audible vent to. "His mother's voice, his mother's words," he quoted to himself. "How should hekuowthat Jantje j remembers the old woman's voice?ay, und tho words that the devil in her spoko too? Hee! Hee! Hee!" Bessie fled without stopping till sLp reached the orange trees in front of the veranda, j where, reassured by the lights from the winj dows, she paused to consider. Not that she was troubled by Jantje's mysterious howling: indeed, she was too preoccupied to give it a second thought. What she was debating was whether she should sav anything about her encounter with Frank Sluller. After pausing for a few seconds to pick a branch of orango blossom and to become herself generally, which, not being hysterically inclined, she very soon did, she quietly entered the house as though nothing hud hupj>ened. The very first persou she met was John himself, who had come in by tho buck way. He laughed ! at her orange blossom bouquet., and said that IE was mosE appropriate, aiiu men pruceeueu ] to embrace lier tenderly in the passage; and indeed he would have been a poor sort of j lover if ho had not. It was exactly at this | juncture that old Silas Croft happened to open the sitting room door and come full upon this tender and attractive tableau. "Well, I never!" said the old gentleman. "What is the meaning of all this, Bessie?'' Of course there was nothing for it but to | come in and explain the facts of the case, j which John did with much humming and having and a general awkwardness of manner that baffles description, while Bessie stood by, her hand upon her lover's shoulder, blushing as red as any rose. The old man listened in silence till John hod finished?a smile upon his face and a kindly twinkle in his keen eyes. "So," he said, "that is what you young people have been after, is it? I suppose that you want to enlarge your interests in the farm, eh, John? Well, upon my word, I don't blame you; you might have gone farther and fared worse. These sort of things never come singly, it seems. I had another request for your hand, my dear, only this afternoon from that scoundrel Frank Aluller, of all men in the world," and his face darkened as he said the name. "I sent him off with a flea in his i no- I no,. foil x-nn Ttn/1 T known then what I know now I should have referred him to Johu. There, there! He is a bud man and a dangerous man, but let him l>e. He is taking plenty of rope and he will hang himself one of these days. Well, my dears, this is the best bit of news that I have heard for many a long day. It is time you got married, both of you, for it is not right for man to live alone, or woman either. I have done it all my life, and that is the conclusion I have come to after thinking the matter over somewhere about fifty years. Yes, you have my consent and my blessing, too; and you will have something more one day before so very long. Take her, John, take her. I have led a rough life, but 1 have seen something of women for all of that, and I tell you that there is not a sweeter or a better or a prettier woman in south Africa than Bessie Croft, t?????a? and in wanting to marry hor you have shown your sense. God bless you both, my dears. And now, Bessie, come and give your old uncle a kiss. I hope that you won't let John quite drive me out of your head; that's all. For you see, my dear, having no children of my own, I have managed to get very fond of you in the last twelve years or so." Bessio came and kissed the old man-tenderly. "No, uncle," she said, "neither John nor anybody nor anything in the world can do that," and it was evident xrom her manner that she meant what she said. Bessie had a 1 large heart, and was not at all the person to let her lover drive her uncle and benefactor out of his share of it. CHAPTER XIV. JOHN TO THE RESCUE. The important domestic events described in the last chapter took place on Dec. 7, 1880, and for the next twelve days or so everything wont or h*nnilv at Mooifontein as things should go under the circumstances. Every day Silas Croft beamed with a moro enlarged geniality in his satisfaction at the turn things had taken, and every day John found cause to congratulate himself more and more on the issue of his bold venture toward matrimony. Now that be came to be on such iutimate terms with his betrothed, he perceived a hundred charms and graces in her character which he had never suspected before. Bessie was like a flower; the more she basked in the light and warmth of her love the more her character opened and unfolded, shedding perfumed sweetness round her and revealing unguessed charms. It is so with all women, and more especially with a woman of her stamp, whom nature has made to love and be loved as maid and wife and mother. Her undoubted personal beauty also shared in this development, her fair face taking a richer hue and her eyes an added depth and meaning. She was in every respect, save one, all that a man could desire in his wife, and even the exception was one that would have stood to her credit with most men. It was this; she was not an intellectual woman, although she certainly possessed more than the ordinary share of intelligence and work a day common sense. 'Now John wq a decidedly intellectual man, and, what is more, he highly appreciated that rare quality in the other sex. But, after all, when one is just engaged to a sweet and lovely woman, one does not think much about her intellect. Those sort of reflections come afterward. And so they sauntered hand in hand through the sunny days and were exceedingly happy. Least of all did they allow the tumors which occasionally reached them from the great Boer gathering at Paurde Kraal to disturb their serenity. There had been so many of these rumors of rebellion that folk were getting to regard them as a chronic state of affairs. ;'0h, the Boers!" said Bessie, with a pretty toss of her golden head, as they were Bitting one morning on the veranda. "I'm sick to death of hearing about the Boers and all their got up talk. I know what it is; it is just an excuse for them to go away from their farms and wives and children and idle about at these great meetings, and drink square face with their mouths full of big words. You see what Jess says in her last letter. People in Pretoria believe that it is all nonsense from beginning to end, and 1 think they are per-, fectly right." "By the way, Bessie," asked John, "have you written to Jess telling her of our engagement?' "Oh, yes ; I wrote some days ugo, but the letter only went yesterday. Sho will b? pleased to hear about it Dear old Jess, I wonder when she means to como home again. She has been away long enough." John mado no answer,but went on smoking his pipe in silence, wondering if Jess would be pleased. He did not understand her yet Sho had gono away just as he was beginning | to understand her. Presently he observed Jantje sneaking about between the orange trees as though he wished to call uttentiou to himself. Had he I **r\f lfnnt-ml 4/win est Iia \WMl1ri llAVO moved from one to the other in such n, way that nobody could have seen him. His partial and desultory appearances indicated thut he was on view. ' Come out of those trees, you little rascal, and stop slipping about like a snake in a stone wall! " shouted John. " what is it you want ?wages (" Thus adjured, Jantje advanced and sat down on the path as usual, in the full glare of the sun. "No, baas," he said," it is not wages. They arc not due yet." "What is it then?" "No, baas, it is this. The Boers have declared war on the English government, and they have eaten up the rooibaatjes at Bronker's Spruit, near Middelburg. Joubert shot them all there the day before yesterday." "What!" shouted John, letting his pipe fall in bis astonishment. "Stop, though, that must be a lie. You say near Middelburg, the day before yesterday; that would be Dec. 110. "WheD did you hear this?" "At daybreak, baas. A Basutu told me." "Then there is an end of it. The news could not have got here in thirty-eight hours. "What do you mean by coming to me with such a tale?" The Hottentot smiled. "It is quite true, baas. Bad news flies like a bird," and he picked himself up and slipped off to bis work. Notwithstanding the apparent impossibility of the thing, John was considerably disturbed, knowing the extraordinary speed with which news docs travel among Kaffirs; more swiftly, indeed, than the swiftest mounted messenger can bear it. Leaving Bessie, who was also somewhat alarmed, he went in search of Silas, Croft, and, iinding him in the garden, told him what Jantjo had said. The old man did not know what to make of the talo, but, remembering Frank Muller's threats, he shook his hcud. "If there is any truth in it that villain Muller lias a hand in it," he said. "I'll go to the Louse and see Jantje. Give 1110 your arm, John." He obeyed, and, 011 getting to the top of the steep path, perceived the stout figure of old Hans Coetzee, who had been his host ut the shooting party, ambling along 011 his fat little pony. "Ah," said old Silas, "here is the man who will tell us if there is anything in it all." "Good day, Om Coetzee, good day!" be shouted out in his stentorian tone. "What news do you bring with you!" The jolly looking Boer rolled awkwardly off his pony before answering, and, throwing the reins over its head, came to meet them. "Allemachter, Om Silus, it is bad news. You have heard of the bymakaar (meeting) at Foard0 Kraal. Frank Aluller wanted me to go, but I would not, and now they have declared war 011 the British government, and sent a proclamation to Lanyon. There will be flghtiug, Om Silas; the land will run with blood, and the poor rooibaatjes will be shot down like buck." "The poor Boers, you mean," growled John, who did not like to hear her majesty's army talked of in terms of regretful pity. Om Coetzee shook his heud with the air of one who knew all about it, and then turned an attentive ear to Silas Croft's version of Jantjo's story. "Allemachter!" groaned Coetzee, "what did I tell you/ The poor rooibaatjes shot down like buck, and the land running with blood. And now that Frank Muller will draw me into it, and 1 shall have to go and shoot the pool- rooibaatjes, and I can't miss; try as hard as I will, 1 can't msss. And when we have shot them all I suppose Burgers will come back, and he is krankish (mad). Yes, yes; Lanvon is bad, but Burgers is worse," and the comfortable old gentleman groaned uloud at the troubles in which he foresaw he would bo involved, and finally took his departure by a bridle path over the mountain, saying that, us things had turned out, he would not like it to be known that he had been culling 011 an Englishman. "John," said Silas Croft, suddenly, "you must go up to Pretoria and fetch Jess. Mark my words, the Boers will besiege Pretoria, and if we don't get her down at once she will be shut up there." "Oh, 110," cried Bessie, in sudden alarm, "I cannot let John go." "I am sorry to hear you talk like that, Bessie, when your sister is in danger," answered her uncle, rather sternly; "but there, I dare say that it is natural. I will go myself. Where is Jantje? I shall wont the Cape cart aud the four gray horses." "No, uncle dear, John shall go. I was not thinking what I was saying. It seemed?a little hard at first." "Of course I must go," said John. "Don't fret, dear; I shall be back in five days. Those four norses can go sixty ifl'les a Qay for tGat time, and more. They are fat as butter, and there is lots of grass along the road if I can't get forage for them. Besides, the cart will . be nearly empty, so I can carry a muid of mealies and fifty bundles of forage with me. I will take that Zulu boy, Mouti (medicine), with me. He does not know much about horses, but he is a plucky fellow, and would stick by one at a pinch. One can't rely on Jantje; he is always sneaking off somewhere, and would be sure to get drunk just as one wanted him." "Yes, yes, John, that's right, that's right," said the old man. "I will go and see about having the horses got up and the wheels greased. Where is the castor oil, Bessie? There is nothing like castor oil for these patent axles. You ought to bo off in an hour. You had better sleep at Luck's to-night; you might get farther, but Luck's is a good place to stop, and they will look after you well there, and you can bo off by 3 in the morning and be at Heidelberg by 10 o'clock to-morrow night and in Pretoria by the next afternoon," and he bustled off to make the necessary preparations. "Oh, John," said Bessie, beginning to cry, "I don't like your going at all among those wild Boers. You are an English officer, and if they find you out they will shoot you, You don't know what brutes some of tliem are when they think it safe to be so. Oh, John, John, I can't bear your going." *'Cheer up, my dear," said John, "and for Heaven's sake stop crying, for I can't bear it. I must go. Your uncle would never forgive me if 1 didn't, and, what is more, I should never forgive myself. There is nobody else to go, and we can't leave Jess to be shut up there in Pretoria?for months perhaps. As for the risk, of course there is a bit of risk, but I must take it. I am not afraid of risks? at least I used not to be, but you have made a bit of a coward of me, Bessie dear. There, give me a kiss, old girl, and come und holp me to pack my things. Please God I shall get back all right, and Jess with me, in a week from now." Whereon Bessie, being a sensible nnd eminently practical young woman, dried her tears, and with a cheerful face, albeit her heart was heavy enough, set to work with a will to make every preparation she could think of. The few clothes John was going to take with him were packed in a Gladstone bag, and the box that was arranged underneath the movable seat in the Cape cart was filled with the tinned provisions that are so much used in Sc.. a Africa, and all the other little airangeinej:' >, small in themselves, but of such infinite importance to the traveler in a wild country, were duly attended to by her careful hands. Then came a hurried meal,and before it was swallowed the cart was at the door, with Jantje hanging as usual on to the heads of the two front horses, and the stalwart Zulu, or rather Swazi boy, Moutl, whose sole luggage appeared to consist of a bundle of assegais and sticks wrapped up in a grass mat, and who, hot as it was, was envoloped in a vast military great coat, lounging placidly alongside. "Good by, John, dear John," said Bessie, Kissing nun again ana again, anu suiviug vu keep back the tears that, do what she could, would gather in her blue eyes. "Good by, my love." "God bless you,, dearest," he said, simply, kissing her in answer; "good by, Mr. Croft, I hope to see you again in a week," and h? was in the cart and liad gathered up the long and intricate looking reins. Jantje let go the horses' heads and gave a whoop. Mouti, giving up star gazing, suddenly became an animated being and scrambled into the cart with surprising alacrity; the horses sprang forward at a hand gallop and were soon hidden from Bessie's dim sight in a cloud of dust Poor Bessie! It was a hard trial; and now that John had gone and her tears could not distress him, she went into her room and gave way to them freely enough. John reached Luck's, on establishment on the Pretoria road th(it happily combined th?. characteristics of an inn, a shop and a farm house, such as are to be met with in sparsely populated countries. It was not an inn and not a farm house, strictly speaking, nor was it altogether a shop, though there was a "store" attached. If the traveler were anxious to obtain accommodation for man and beast at a place of this stamp he had to proceed warily, so to speak, lest he should be requested to move on. He must advance, hat in liund, and ask to be taken in as a favor, as many a high handed traveler, accustomed to the obsequious attentions of "mine host," has learned to his cost. There is no such di e idful autocrat as your half and half inn keeper in South Africa, and then he is so completely master of the situation. "If you don't like it, go aud be d?d to you," is his simple answer to the remonstrances of the infuriated voyager. Atul then you must either knock under and look as though you liked it, or trek 011 into the "unhostelled" wilderness. O11 this occasion, however, John fared well enough. To begin with he knew the owners of this place, who were very civil people if approached in a humble spirit, and, furthermore, he found everybody in such a state of uupleasurable excitement that they were only too glad to get another Englishman to talk the matters over with. Not that their information amounted to much, however. There was a rumor of the Bronker's Spruit disaster and other rumors of the investment of Pretoria, and of the advance of. large bodies of Boers to take possession of.the pass over the Drakensburg, known as Laing's Nek, but there was no definite intelligence. "You won't get into Pretoria," said one melancholy man, "so it's no use trying. The Boers will just catch you and kill you, and there will be an end of it. You bad better leave the girl to look, after herself and go back to Mooifontein." But this wus not John's view of the matter. "Well," he said, "at any rate, I'll have a try." Indeed, tic bad a sort of bulldog sentiment about him that led him to believe that, if he made up his mind to do a thing, he would do it somehow, unless he should bo physically incapacitated by circumstances beyond his own control. It is wonderful how far a mood of this sort will take a man. Indeed, it is the widespread possession of this sentiment that has made England what she is. Now it is beginning to die down and be legislated out of our national character, and the results are already commencing to appear in the incipient decay of our power. We cannot govern Ireland. It is beyond us; let Ireland have home rule! Wo cannot cope with our imperial responsibilities; let them be cost off; and so on. The Englishmen of fifty years ago did not talk like this. Well, every nation becomes emuseulated sooner or later, that soeuis to be the uuiversal fate; and it appears that it is our lot to bo emasculated, not by the want of law, but . by a plethora of it. This country was made, not by governments, but mostly in despite of them by the independent efforts of a series of individuals. The tendency nowadays is to merge the individual in the government, and to limit and even forcibly destroy personal enterprise and responsibility. Everything is to be legislated for or legislated against. The system is only in its bud as yet. When it blooms the empire will lose touch of its individual atoms and become a vast, soulless machine, which will first get out of order, then break down, and, last of all, break up. Wo owe more to sturdy, determined, unconvincible Englishmen like Johu Niel than we realize, or, perhaps, should be willing to acknowledge in these enlightened days. [TO HE CONTINUED.] E A KTHQUAK15 SPEED.?ACCOrdinf? to accounts from Washington, if the earth tremor registered by the scientific intruments in that city, shortly after the recent earthquake in Southern France and Northern Italy, was a part of the same shock, the wave must have traveled under the ocean, from continent to conti-1 nent, at the rate of f>00 miles an hour. The velocity of the earthwave, propagated by the Charleston shock was only about ninety miles an hour. 5??* Not a day passes over the earth but men and women of no note do great deeds, speak great words, and suffer noble sorrows. Of these obscure heroes, philosophers and martyrs, the greater part will never be known till that hour when many that were great shall be small, and the small great. The influence ot one good woman is more than that of ten great men. ABOUT SNAKES. According to most naturalists then are about 1,000 species of snakes ir the world. In North America, prin cipally in the United States anc Mexico, 132 of these species are found Of these twenty-two only are ven omous. There are different varietiei of the rattlesnake, coral snake, anc copperhead family. The moccasii snake of the South and Southwest which is also called the cotton moutl and water moccasin, is a near rela tive of the copperhead. The greates number of poisonous snakes occur ring in any one region in the Unitec States are in Arizona and New Mex ico. The species of venomous snake; therefore number only about one sixth of the whole number of varie ties contained in the country. Ii the States north of the southline o the central tier only three species o poisonous snakes are found. Thes< n-r. V. oorlorl t?q f f 1 ncn q Lrn thi VI1C ovaicucauwu KHVlVdiiunV) VII< pjatreaded rattlesnake, and th< copperhead. In the South the pois onous sorts are more plentiful. Thi harmless snakes, which comprise 110 of the 132 kinds inhabiting th< country, are found in every Stati and Territory. Herpetologists usually divide thi snake family into five subordinat< groups, thus: Borrowing, ground tree, fresh water and sea snakes These names suggest their peculiari ties with sufficient clearness. Thi snake moves by the aid of the curvet scales with which he is abundantly supplied, acting in conjunction witl the ribs. These scales and ribs an thrust forward, and, catching oi rough surfaces, enable the reptile t< move, sometimes with considerabli rapidity. The movement, however is lateral and sinuous, never verti cal or by an up-and-down twist o the body. The latter style of loco motion, however, is the one which i usually pictured in the illustrate* papers whenever an attempt is mad< to show how a snake travels. Venomous snakes can usually b distinguished at a glance from thos ^ U? 1 An.i ^PKaha Jo n morlr mat aits jiuniucas. mcic u luum ed difference in external appearanc between the two varieties. Th venomous ones have hard scales with head and body flattened to : considerable degree, the neck, whei contrasted with the other portions appearing to be narrow. In th harmless snakes, head and body, a well as neck, are cylindrical, and th scales are comparatively small. Th' tongue in the poisonous reptile i longer, and the teeth larger than ii the non-poisonous. The venomou species sometimes retreat when con fronted by man, although they al ways have a more or less ferociou appearance. The harmless ones a! ways get out of the way as quickl; as possible when a man is encounter ed. These distinguishing marks wil hold good generally throughout th world. It is important to bear then in mind. THE GRASS SNAKE. The common ringed or grass snak< is familiar all over the world. It i perfectly harmless. No moreseriou injury would result from a bite o thq.grass snake?which, in some o its varieties, is about the only rep tile to be encountered in the wood and fields within fifty miles of an; of the large Northern cities?thai would ensue from the bite of a chick en. Nevertheless, its appearand outside of a cage generally provoke fear in most persons who may chana to he near it. and always excites dis gust. There is about as much rea cause for the one emotion as there i for the other. For it is not only a gentle as a dove, and far more harm less than a kitten, but it is dittieul to imagine how any created thinj could have been more beautiful an< graceful. It ranges in length, whei full grown, from about li to 4 feet The average length is about 2 fee 6 inches. It lives in woods, grass and on the edges of water courses Its teeth are very small?so small indeed, that they would hardly pen etrate the skin of the human finger say, if the reptile should close then upon it. Sometimes it takes to thi water, in which element it is a home. Insects and frogs are its prin cipal food. Like all other snake in the temperate zone, it hibernate in winter in logs or other shelterec places. The color of the most common va riety of grass snake is grayish greei on the back and sides, and lighte color on the belly. Along the bad run two rows of small dark spots, an< a row of larger and oblong spots i stretched down each side. The spot vary in shape and color on differon \rofiotip? All snrt.4 nf crass snake are exceedingly timid, and flee 01 theapproach of a child. The beade< snake which is common in flelds anc roads through out the country, i equally beautiful and innocent. THE BLACK SNAKE. The black snake is also well knowi in the United States, and, like tin grass snake, is harmless. The average length of this reptile is abou four feet, although specimens havi been killed which measured six feet Racer is a name sometimes given ti it, because of the rapidity witl which it can go over the ground o climb a tree. The antics of thi species, especially during the breed iug season, are calculated to strik< terror into the heart of any persci unacquainted with its powerlessness It will shake the grass or the leave of the branches of a tree, and fairly well imitate the whirring noise o the rattlesnake. But there is m need of any person being alarmec at this. Unlike the common gras snake, however, the black specie have teeth sufficiently long to pene trate the skin and inflict a moder ately severe wound, but poison i always absent. The black snaki likes the edges of streams, ponds, o lakes, although in the hot weather i is often found basking in the sun Rabbits and squirrels are a favorit article of diet with it, and its popu lar mode of killing these animals i by coiling around them, as the hoa encircle the large animals, thu crushing them. Jt preys also on th smaller birds. The color of thi snake is blue-black on back am sides, and slate color on the belly Spots on the back and sides of a dul ler hue than the general color of tha portion of the body are found 01 some varities. Insects and frogs an followed by this reptile into hole in the ground and in dead trees while it ambushes the small bird and climbing animals in the limb of trees and In shrubbery. Th sides of old houses have been known too, to be scaled by it in search c prey. COPPERHEAD AND COTTON MOUTH The copperhead and cotton moutl are among the venomous species c snakes, and belong to the same fain ily. The copperhead, whichissome times locally called the "chunkhead and "deaf adder," is found through out the United States from the A! lantic to the Alleghaney mountains It is about three feet long when ful grown, with a thick body which is light brown or copper color, includ ing the head, hence the name. The head is flat and broad, as in all ven: omous serpents; the eyes are large and brightand the neck short. When ^ angry its appearance is ferocious in the extreme. It is more dreaded than the rattlesnake, from the fact that it attacks without warning. It will not attack at all, however, unless in defence. Dark places are favored by it, although, like many other serpents, poisonous and other, it is often seen in the sun in pleasant weather. The poison fangs are in the upper jaw. Owing to the shortness and thickness of its body its movements are comparatively slow. It can not climb trees. The cotton-mouth is found mostly in the Southern States. Sometimes it attains a length of four feet. It is not so "ehunkey" as its copperhead cousin, but is quicker in its movements, and its bite is fully asdaugerf ous. Many persons have lost their f lives from wounds given by these < 3 reptiles. It appears to be more cour- < ^ ageous than the copperhead, and is 1 3 an object of dread in the region where < It abounds'. There Is a kibdredva- I 3 riety of snake also in the South i s which is called by the name of moca casin. Like the preceding one, it 3 has a weakness for low grounds or swamps, and is often seen in the : B water. 1 b th^ rattlesnake. , The rattler is the most venomous . of all the reptiles found in the Unit- 1 - ed States. Like the copperhead and b cotton-mouth, it is a native of North I America. It is found all over the 7 United States, but is most plentiful 1 i in the Southwest, especially New b Mexico and Arizona. Professor i Cope estimates that fifteen species a of the rattler are known in this counb try. Those of New England differ ', from the varieties found in Virginia - and North Carolina, and each differs f from the Georgia and Florida kinds, - while the varieties found in the Miss sissippi Valley possess peculiarities 3 distinct from those of other sections e ofthecountry. Theviperinesnakes, of which the puff adder (not known e in the United States) is a variety, e belontrs to the same family as a rat - tlesnake. e The rattlesnake derives its name e from the structure of its tail, which i, is made of segments of bone, somea what loosely joined together. When a the reptile is about to advance and i, bite its victim its whole body swells e and shrinks like a bellows, and its s tail is switched around with swifte ness and strength. The motion of e the tail causes the segments of bone, s or "rattles," as they are popularly a called, to strike against each other, s This produces the dull, whirring - sound which gives the reptile its I- name. When about to strike the s snake gathers itself in a coil, the head and tail beingraised high ebove y the folds, and the eyes flashing. At such moments its aspect is terrible 1 enough to frighten the bravest pere son who is thus confronted for the a first time. There are two common mistakes connected with the rattler. One is that the reptile acquires a new rattle e every year, and another is that it 8 will follow up a person who retreats 8 when it threatens to strike. The j number of rattles depends principally ' on the size of the serpent. The indi* vidual who falls back, whether in 8 good order or otherwise, when he y sees a rattlesnake about to strike, 3 need fear no pursuit. Even if the " reptile should follow, it could not go e fast enough to overtake a man who 8 walked briskly. B The venom of the rattler's bite varies wiin tue seasuu ami uuuuiuuu 1 of the reptile. It is most to be fear3 ed in the hottest months, and when s the snake is large and vigorous. - Stimulants, among which are alcot holic iiquors, are most effective. The ? fatality attending rattlers' bites, how1 ever, is not.so high as popularly sup1 posed. The rattlesnake is generally pale t brown above. Dark brown bands '? are drawn across the back, and a ' number of round spots of the same i hue are scattered along the sides and neck. A dark streak runs along the 't temples from thejback of the mouth 1 into a large spot. TIIE EOA CONSTRICTOR. The boa constrictor proper cannot ~ be said to be a native of the United s States, but stories are told of anaconj das?which are a variety of this class of serpents?being found in New Mexico and Arizona. The boas are a very " numerous family, and all are natives r of the tropical portions of America. _ The python and the Natal rock i snakes, which are found in the tropics of the Old World, are related to the boas. All this family kill their prey \ by crushing it to death, after which _ they swallow it. None of the boas are venomous. There is a small spe, cies of the boa on the Pacific slope of j the United States. It is called the ? wenona, and rarely exceeds six or s seven feet in length. , The true boa is found in Mexico and the Central American States, as i well as in South America. There e are four species of this serpent. Its . teeth are long and directed backt ward. The prey is held in the teeth, , e while the sernent coils itself rapidly around its victim, and then the s'nake ; -f slowly but surely compresses it. J i Large animals, like Uons, tigers, and r oxen are crushed in this way, their s bones, according to the testimony of . hunters who have watched the proe cess, being snapped like pipestems. i After the prey is dead the snake cov- ( i. ers it with saliva, and then swallows s it. The jaws and body of the serpent y are capable of such dilation that oxen f have been known to be swallowed [) by these snakes. After such a meal 1 as this the serpent lies in a condition s of semi-torpidity for two or three s weeks, and while in it is readily . killed. The true boa is one of the smallest , s of the snakes of that class, rarely s being found longer than twelve feet, r The anaconda, which is not often seen t now north of Brazil, sometimes at. tains a length of about forty feet, e The pythons of the Old World tropics . average from twenty-five to thirty s feet in length. The Natal rock snake s is a little more than half as large as s this.?Globe Democrat. e s THE MANY SIDED BOOK. 1 Most human books are easily ex hausted. We read them once or " twice and are done with them. Only the master-pieces of human thought n will bear reading once a year; but e the Bible ii> read by thousands every s day for 40 or 50 years in succession, and that not alone by persons of low tastes or feeble minds, but by the s princes in the realm of intellect, by e men who need not shrink from com'j. parison with any other class of minds on earth. Certain books are adapted to sin gle classes of people, the young, li the old, the rich, the poor, all < if have their literature; but here is a i- book which meets the needs and (- wants of all, and from it all draw ? help, strength and inspiration. The t- master minds in art, science and > literature, have drank deeply from i j. this unfailing fount, and gathered il11 lumination from its radiant pages, a The themes of their sublimest po- , 1- ems, the subjects of their noblest aaintings, the original of the their grandest sculptures, the principles c )f their noblest laws, the inspiration 1 )f their purest literature, are found a in this wonderful book. Says Dr. a Hatley Maddell, of Glasgow: i "The Bible has been a quarry for t sculptors, the gallery for painters, a 1 ;ext-book for orators, a standard for i poets, and a dictionary of quotations 1 for everybody. It was a fountain of I melody to Handel, to Mendelssohn, f to Haydn ; a field of phantasmagoria 1 to Dante; a spectre of human life to i aoethe; a consecrating oil to Shak- s speare; a window in Heaven and a c iglit upon earth to Bunyan ; a mys- t tery of mysteries to Byron; and a j pocket companion to Scott." > A book as well as a man is known t by the company it keeps; and this t book has kept the grandest company s this world ever saw. Written by men of all classes, it comes to men of ill conditions, and meets the needs af the universal human heart. Blessed are they who have tasted its sweetness and learned its worth, and who ;an say, "The law of thy mouth is better to me than thousands of gold and silver." * A DOG STORY. Last year a clergyman of Norfolk, in England, missed his pet dog, and there was much grief in the family, for Rough, the lost collie, was a favorite with the grown folks as well as with the children. Some nine months later the clergyman, happening to go to "Cattle Ilill," where the Norfolk drovers were, saw Rough, and joyously laid claim to him. But Rough's new master, a drover, refused to give the dog up, and there was a dispute. Of course, the drovers were in sympathy with their fellow, and the clergyman found the odds against him. The drover said that he owned Rough for years; the minister held to it that Rough was the very Rough he had raised. Two policemen came running up, and the case was stated. "But hew can you prove ownership?" asktd one of the officers. That put the minister in mind of something. He thrust his hand into a pocket, pulled out a penny, and gave it to the dog, with the command, "Rough, fetch a loaf!" Rough, with the penny in his mouth, went to the nearest bakery, made it clear that he wanted some bread, o nrl oAAn no mo tnop Ko/?lr fn flio J auu owu?i vauic uuutu^ uut.u iu tnv crowd. The clergyman broke off a ! morsel, gave it to Rough, and stood : by while the dog munched it. Sud- 1 denly the clergyman exclaimed: "Rough, I believe that bread is ! poisoned !" Out the dog spat the ' piece of bread, and the crowd cried, "Bravo!" There was no longer 1 doubt us to the true ownership, and, to the shame of the drover, the dog trotted off at the minister's heels. Soldier and Thistle.?Little ' Minnie, in her eagerness after flow- : ers, had wounded her hand on the ! sharp, prickly thistles. This made her cry with pain at first and pout with vexation afterward. "I do wish there was no such a thing as a thistle in the world," she 1 said pettishly. "And yet the Scottish nation think so much of it they engrave it on the uational arms," said her mother. "It is the last flower that I should pick out," said Minnie. "I am sure J they might have found a great many nicer ones, even among the weeds." "But the thistle did them such good service once," said her mother, "they learned to esteem it very highly. One time the Danes invaded Scotland, and they prepared to make a night attack on a sleeping garrison. So they crept along barefooted as still as possible, uutil they were almost on the spot. Just at that moment a barefooted soldier stepped on a great thistle, and the hurt made him utter a sharp, shrill cry of pain. The sound awoke the sleepers, and each man sprang to his arms. They fought with great bravery, and the invaders were driven back with much loss. So, you see, the thistle saved Scotland, and ever since it has been placed in , their seal as their national flower." "Well, I never suspected that so small a thing could save a nation," , said Minnie, thoughtfully.?Detroit Free Press. Lee and the Wounded Feder- . al.?'The story was originally told ; by a "Grand Army" man, who had been viewing the panorama of the battle of Gettysburg, and who said: "I was at the battle of Gettysburg myself, and an incident occurred | there which largely changed my ; views of Southern people. I had been a most bitter anti-South man, and fought and cursed the Confeder- i ates desperately. I could see 110th- ( ing good in any of them. The last day of the fight I was badly wounded ; a ball shattered my left leg. I ' lay on the ground not far from Cem- i etery Ridge, and as Gen. Lee order- ; ed his retreat, he and his officers rode i nptir nie. As thav earne alone I < recognized him, and, though faint < from exposure and loss of blood, I raised up my hands, looked Lee in the face, and shouted as loud as I could, 'Hurrah for the Union!' * "The General heard me, looked, i stopped his horse, dismounted and came toward me. I confess that I < first thought he meant to kill me. i But as he came up he looked down at j me with such a sad expression upon < his face that all fear left me, and I 1 wondered what he was about. He extended his hand to me, and grasp- t ing mine firmly and looking right i into my eyes, said :'My son I hope | that you will soon he well.' If I i live 1,000 years I shall never forget ( that look upon Lee's face. There he | was defeated, retiring from a field j that had cost him and his cause al- ] most their last hope, yet he stopped ; to say such words to a wounded sol- ; dier of the enemy who had taunted him as he passed by! As soon as the General had left me I cried my- | self to sleep there upon the bloody < ground."?Jiook Review in N. Y.Sim. ... 4- ? ~ Pulse Beats.?It is strange how few people know what their normal pulse is, said a physician to a St. Louis Globe reporter.. They know 1 that the average pulse is about sev- : enty, and imagine that they are well or otherwise as their pulse approach- i es or departs from this standard. It is true that an average of all pulses ' would give a resun 01 auuni seventy i beats, but in no other physical pecu- < liarity is tlieresuch a wide individual variation. I had two students in my office at the same time, both very strong and remarkably healthy young men. The normal pulse of i one was forty-seven and the other i ninety-three. This difference is un- i usual, few pulses falling below sixty ] or rising above eighty in a healthy ] subject, but an unusually slow or rap- i id pulse is no indication whatever of < disease, as is popularly supposed to i be the case. Most people overesti- j mate their pulse, as they often count i its beats when talking about the ] matter, and itisa fact well known to s physicians that the excitement of 1 conversation will quicken the pulse i from five to twenty beats. The best 1 time to arrive at the true normal is < shortly after waking in the morning, < when the nerves are unexcited. t Coffee Plantation in Mexi*).?While at Jalapa I metSenor 3ablo de Lascurraio, and accepted m invitation to visit his farm, situited a few miles distant, and embracng all that immense chain of mounains which extends to the gulf. tVe left on horseback in the mornng,and after a pleasant ride of two lours arrived at the hacienda, a small )ut very comfortable house. After i good dinner the senor ordered the lorses and we started out to see a )ortion of the farm. Of course ouly t small fraction of the laDd is under :ultivation,the remainder being pasure lands, woods, and mountains. \bout two miles from the hacienda ve came to an immense coffee planation containing between thirty and orty thousand trees, which are ihaded by eighty thousand banana rees. The coffee tree, although requiring a moist, tropical climate, Kinnnt hoop tho uiin anri hpiU'A (>AOh ;ree has to be shaded by two or more janana trees. The region around Jalapa is far setter for raising coffee than in the famous district near Orizaba, where * :he average is about one-third of a aound per tree. The senor without my difficulty managed to bring the iverage up to nearly a pound. Before ripening the berry is of a bright 'ed color and shortly after it turns arown, when it is ready to pick. After being gathered the berries are thrown into large wooden mortars, tvhere they are pounded and the grains of coffee separated from the covering. The next process is to 3ry them thoroughly, after which they are packed in bags and are ready for the market. As for the banana, ?ach tree produces one large bunch snd then dies. The fruit is so abundant that it is not picked, but is allowed to dry on the stem. Metropolitan Funerals.?The poor of New York are the most extravagant people in the world in the management of their funerals, writes Blakely Hall. When a death occurs the hawks descend upon the house in Hocks. The richest undertakers are in the tenement house districts, and tney imveaKeuw anu wires niuuuierible. Many of them count their fortunes in six figures, though they live in squalor and apparent poverty, rhey own livery stables, grog shops \nd tenement houses, and every tenant, employe and political "heeler" is expected to work for the undertaker who patronizes him. The manufacturers of mottoes, wreaths, shrouds, texts aud other catchpenny devices, that hang upon the human woe, are in close accord with the undertaker. They extend their lines across the river and out to Calvary cemetery, on the outskirts of Brooklyn. Here the tenement house dead are buried, coffin on top of coffin, till as many as six bodies rest in one grave. All along the dusty road . to the graveyard are rum shops and beer saloons?mere speculations on the part of the'undertakers. Up totfn it is the custom to conduct funerals with extraordinary privacy, and when the ceremony can be performed in a country house, the dead is conveyed out of town without any formalities at all. The one idea of poor New York is to make a show of the dead, while rich New York abhors it. The Art of War.?The command of a large army tasks the recnnrocio r\f fhn orroa f ocf trtinrl T f. ia one of the highest of human achievments, and by common consent the first rank of fame is accorded to the great generals. To move an army and to feed on the march requires a higher order of generalship than to fight it. Thirty hours without supplies would reduce the best army to a helpless mass of disorganized humanity. Food for the men, forage for the animals must not only be provided, but must be at the precise spot when wanted. Napoleon, the great master of the art of war, had a score of marshals, any one of whom could fight a great battle, and scarce one of whom could lead an army on the march. An army on the march resembles nothing so much as an enormous serpent, stretched out mile after mile, and moving, alert and watchful, with steady and irresistible force. Let danger threaten x and it hastily coils itself together and prepares to avert or overcome the danger. Shrunk to a fraction of its former dimensions, it shows its fangs and is ready for attack or defence. The danger overpast, the great mass unfolds its coils again and stretches out its huge proportions in progressive movement. The brain of this mighty animal, the supreme mind that controls its every motion, is the general in chief. The Destruction of Forests.? The Volga river presents a striking example of the effect of destroying forests?its movement has become an alteration of destructive floods and drought which render its navigation difficult and uncertain. It is the longest river in Europe, and empties into the Caspian Sea. It is about one mile wide in its centre part, and two or three miles near and at the mouth. Canal systems connect it with the Neva. St. Petersburg, and the Baltic sea, and immense as this waterway system is, it is proposed to extend It to Archangel and the White sea and also to the Black sea through the River Don. The incalculable usefulness of this system of navigation has only one serious drawback?the stream of Vol?a becomes shallower every year in the dry season, and the floods shift channels and pile up great sandbanks. The Black sea oil traffic has erreatly increased the transport business, and affords a cheap and excellent fuel for the steamers. The only remedy for the floods and droughts is to arrest the destruction of the forests, and it is said that the Russian Government will attempt to do so. Unfortunately, the remedy will not act as swiftly as the evil, which in a few years has seriously increased the difficulties of navigation. Poisons Formed from Food.? The subject of "Poisons Formed from Food, and their Relation to Biliousness and Diarrhoea," has been considered by Dr. T. Lander Brunton in articles in the Practitioner. There are persons, he says, or even, perhaps, "classes of people," to whom even articles of food, usually salutary, are poisonous. Many articles of food, also, have a property of-split ting themselves up so as to yieia poisons. The melon and cucumber tribe of vegetables exhibit a tendency to the formation of purgative substances. In animal foods poisonous properties are apt to appear either from particular modes of cooking or from beginning decomposition. The lecomposition may be effected by microbic organisms, or by the digestive ferments of the healthy body; ind they a re various according to the peculiar rxganism or ferment that sets them up, and according to the temperature at which they occur, ind the length of time that they continue. Some of the products of decomposition are poisonous in various degrees of activity, while others ire innocuous.