AN AWFUL STRUGGLE. REV. DR. TALMAGE PREACHES UPON LIFE'S SPIRITUAL CONFLICTS. The Fierce Combat With an Unknown Visitor That Lasts Until Daybreak--When Waves of Trouble Almost Overwhelm. Try Cry to God of a Dying Soul.

BROOKLYN, April 29.--The Tabernacle was crowded this morning with the usual throng of eager listeners. Dr. Talmage preached on the spiritual conflicts of life, taking for his text Genesis xxxii,

24-26: "And Jacob was left alone, and

there wrestled a man with him until

the breaking of the day. And when he saw that he prevailed not against him he touched the hollow of his thigh, and the hollow of Jacob's thigh was out of joint as he wrestled with him. And he said, Let me go, for the day breaketh. And, he said, I will not let thee go except thou bless me." The dust arose from a traveling herd

of cattle and sheep and goats and camels. They are the present that Jacob sends to gain the good will of his offended brother. That night Jacob halts by the brook Jabbok. But there is no rest for the weary man, no shining ladder to let the angels down into his

dream, but a fierce combat, that lasts until the morning, with an unknown visitor. They each try to throw the other. The unknown visitor, to reveal his superior power, by a touch wrenches Jacob's thigh bone from its socket, perhaps maiming him for life. As on the morning sky the clusters of purple cloud begin to ripen Jacob sees it is an angel with whom he has been contending, and not one of his brother's coadjutors. "Let me go," cries the angel, lifting himself up

into increasing light, "The day break- eth!" Christian Struggles.

You see, in the first place, that God allows good people sometimes to get into a terrible struggle. Jacob was a good man, but here he is left alone in the midnight to wrestle with a tremendous influence by the brook Jabbok. For Joseph, a pit; for Daniel, a wild beast den; for David, dethronement and exile; for John the Baptist, a wilderness diet and the executioner's ax; for Peter, a prison; for Paul, shipwreck; for John, desolate Patmos; for Vashti, most insulting cruelty; for Josephine, banishment; for Mrs. Sigourney, the agony of a drunkard's wife; for John Wesley, stones hurled by an infuriated mob; for Catherine, the Scotch girl, the drowning surges of the sea; for Mr. Burns, the buffeting of the Montreal populace; for John Brown of Edinburgh, the pistol shot of Lord Claverhouse; for Hugh McKail, the scaffold; for Latimer, the stake; for Christ, the cross. For whom the rocks, the gibbets, the guillotines, the thumbscrews? For the sons and daughters of the Lord God Almighty. Some one said to a Christian reformer, "The world is against you." "Then," he replied, "I am against the world." I will go further and say that every Christian has his struggle. This man had his combat in Wall street; this one on Broad street; this one on Fulton street; this one on Chestnut street; this one on State street; this one on Lombard street; this one on the bourse. With financial misfortune you have had the midnight wrestle. Redhot disasters have dropped into your store from loft to cellar. What you bought you could not sell. Whom you trusted fled. The help you expected would not come. Some giant panic, with long arms and grip like death, took hold of you in an awful wrestle from which you have not yet escaped, and it is uncertain whether it will throw you or you will throw it. Here is another soul in struggle with some bad appetite. He knew not how stealthily it was growing upon him. One hour he woke up. He said, "For the sake of my soul, of my family, and of my children, and of my God, I must stop this!" And, behold, he found himself alone by the brook Jabbok, and it was midnight. That evil appetite seized upon him, and he seized upon it, and, oh, the horror of the conflict! When once a bad habit has aroused itself up to destroy a man and the man has sworn that, by the help of the eternal God, he will destroy it, all heaven draws itself out in a long line of light to look from above, and hell stretches itself in myrmidons of spite to look up from beneath. I have seen men rally themselves for such a struggle, and they have bitten their lip and clinched their fists and cried, with a blood red earnestness and a rain of scalding tears, "God help me!"

The Giant Habit.

From a wrestle with habit I have seen men fall back defeated. Calling for no help, but relying on their own resolutions, they have come into the struggle, and for a time it seemed as if they were getting the upper hand of their habit, but that habit rallied again its infernal power and lifted a soul from its standing, and with a force borrowed from the pit hurled it into utter darkness. First I saw the auctioneer's mallet fall on the pictures and musical instruments and the rich upholstery of his family parlor. After awhile I saw him fall into the ditch. Then, in the midnight, when the children were dreaming their sweetest dreams and Christian households are silent with slumber, angel watched, I heard him give the sharp shriek that followed the stab of his own poniard. He fell from an honored social position; he fell from a family circle of which once he was the grandest attraction; he fell from the house of God, at whose altars he had been consecrated; he fell--forever! But, thank God, I have often seen a better termination than that. I have seen men prepare themselves for such a wrestling. They laid hold of God's help as they went into combat. The giant habit, regaled by the cup of

many temptations, came out strong and defiant. They clinched. There were the writhings and distortions of a fearful struggle. But the old giant began to waver, and at last, in the midnight alone, with none but God to witness, by the brook Jabbok, the giant fell, and the triumphant wrestler broke the dark-

ness with the cry, "Thanks be unto God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." There is a widow's heart that first was desolated by bereavement and since by the anxieties and trials that came in the support of a family.

It is a sad thing to see a man contend-

ing for a livelihood under disadvantages, but to see a delicate woman, with help-

less little ones at her back, fighting the giants of poverty and sorrow, is most affecting. It was a humble home, and passersby knew not that within those four walls were displays of courage more admirable than that of Hannibal crossing the Alps, or the pass of Ther-

mopylæ or Balaklava, where "into the jaws of death rode the six hundred."

These heroes had the whole world to cheer them on, but there were none to applaud the struggle in the humble home. She fought for bread, for cloth-

ing, for fire, for shelter, with aching head, and weak side, and exhausted strength, through the long night by the brook Jabbok. Could it be that none would give her help? Had God forgot-

ten to be gracious? No, contending soul! The midnight air is full of wings com-

ing to the rescue. She hears it now in the sough of the night wind, in the ripple of the brook Jabbok--the promise made so long ago ringing down the sky, "Thy fatherless children, I will preserve them alive, and let thy widows trust in me!" Some one once said to a very poor woman, "How is it that in such distress you keep cheerful?" She said: "I do it by what I call cross prayers. When I had my rent to pay and nothing to pay it with, and bread to buy and nothing to buy it with, I used to sit down and cry. But now I do not get discouraged. If I go along the street, when I come to a corner of the street I say, 'The Lord help me.' I then go on until I come to another crossing of the street, and again I say, 'The Lord help me!' And I utter a prayer at every crossing, and since I have got into the habit of say-

ing these 'cross prayers' I have been able to keep up my courage."

Purified by Fire.

Learn again from this subject that people sometimes are surprised to find

out that what they have been struggling with in the darkness is really an "angel of blessing." Jacob found in the

morning that this strange personage was not an enemy, but a God dispatched

messenger to promise prosperity for him and for his children. And so many a man, at the close of his trial, has found out that he has been trying to throw down his own blessing. If you are a Christian man, I will go back in your history and find that the grandest things that have ever happened to you have been your trials. Nothing short of scourging, imprisonment and shipwreck could have made Paul what he was. When David was fleeing through the wilderness pursued by his own son, he was being prepared to become the sweet singer of Israel. The pit and the dungeon were the best schools at which Joseph ever graduated. The hurricane that upset the tent and killed Job's children perpared the man of Uz to write the magnificent poem that has astounded the ages. There is no way to get the wheat out of the straw but to thrash it. There is no way to purify the gold but to burn it. Look at the people who have always had it their own way. They are proud, discontented, useless and unhappy. If you want to find cheerful folks, go among those who have been purified by the fire. After Rossini rendered "William Tell" the five hundredth time a company of musicians came under his window in Paris and serenaded him. They put upon his brow a golden crown of laurel leaves. But amid all the applause and enthusiasm Rossini turned to a friend and said, "I would give all this brilliant scene for a few days of youth and love." Contrast the melancholy feeling of Rossini, who had everything this world could give him, to the joyful experience of Isaac Watts, whose misfortunes were innumerable, when he says:

The hill of Zion yields A thousand sacred sweets Before we reach the heavenly fields Or walk the golden streets.

Then let our songs abound And every tear be dry

We are marching through Immanuel's ground To fairer worlds on high.

Marks of the Combat.

It is prosperity that kills and trouble that saves. While the Israelites were on the march, amid great privations and hardships, they behaved well. After awhile they prayed for meat, and the sky darkened with a great flock of quails, and these quails fell in large multitudes all about them, and the Israelites ate and ate and stuffed themselves until they died. Oh, my friends, it is not hardship or trial or starvation that injures the soul, but abundant supply. It is not the vulture of trouble that eats up the Christian life; it is the quails, it is the quails! You will yet find out that your midnight wrestle by the brook Jabbok is with an angel of God, come down to bless and save. Learn again that while our wrestling with trouble may be triumphant we must expect that it will leave its mark upon us. Jacob prevailed, but the angel touched him, and his thigh bone sprang from its socket, and the good man went limping on his way. We must carry through this world the mark of the combat. What plowed those premature wrinkles in your face? What whitened your hair before it was time for frost? What silenced forever so much of the hilarity of your household? Ah, it is because the angel of trouble hath touched you that you go limping on your way. You need not be surprised that those who have passed through the fire do not feel as gay as once they did. Do not be out of patience with those who come not out of their despondency. They may triumph over their loss, and yet their gait shall tell you that they have been trouble touched. Are we stoics that we can, unmoved, see our cradle rifled of the bright eyes and the sweet lips? Can we stand unmoved and see our gardens of earthly delight uprooted? Will Jesus, who wept himself, be angry with us if we pour our tears into the graves that open to swallow down what we love best? Was Lazarus more dear to him than our beloved dead to us? No. We have a right to weep. Our tears must come. You shall not drive them back to scald the heart. They fall into God's bottle. Afflicted ones have died because they could not weep. Thank God for the sweet, the mysterious relief that comes to us in tears! Under this gentle rain the flowers of corn put forth their bloom. God pity that dry, withered, parched, all consuming grief that wrings its hands and

grinds its teeth and bites its nails unto the quick, but cannot weep! We may have found the comfort of the cross, and

yet ever after show that in the dark night and by the brook Jabbok we were trouble touched.

The Day Breaketh.

Again, we may take the idea of the text and announce the approach of the day dawn. No one was ever more glad to see the morning than was Jacob after that night of struggle. It is appropriate

for philanthropists and Christians to cry out with this angel of the text, "The day breaketh." The world's prospects are brightening. The church of Christ is rising up in its strength to go forth "fair as the moon, clear as the sun and terrible as an army with banners." Clap your hands, all ye people, the day breaketh. The bigortries of the earth are perishing. The time was when we were told that if we wanted to get to heaven we must be immersed or sprinkled, or we must believe in the perseverance of the saints, or in falling away from grace, or a liturgy, or no liturgy, or they must be Calvinists or Arminians in order to reach haven. We have all come to confess now that these are nonessentials in religion. During my vacation one summer I was in a Presbyterian audience, and it was sacramental day, and with grateful heart I received the holy communion. On the next Sabbath I was in a Methodist church and sat at a love feast. On the following Sabbath I was in an Episcopalian church and knelt at the altar and received the consecrated bread. I do not know which service I enjoyed the most. "I believe in the communion of saints and in the life everlasting." "The day breaketh."

As I look upon this audience I see many who have passed through waves of trouble that came up higher than their girdle. In God's name I proclaim cessation of hostilities. You shall not go always saddened and heartbroken. God will lift your burden. God will bring your dead to life. God will stanch the heart's bleeding. I know he will.

Like as a father pities his children, so the Lord pities you. The pains of earth will end. The tomb will burst. The

dead will rise. The morning star trem-

bles on a brightening sky. The gates of the east begin to swing open. The day breaketh. Luther and Melanchthon were talking together gloomily about the prospects of the church. They could see no hope of deliverance. After awhile Luther got up and said to Melanchthon: "Come, Philipp, let us sing the forty-sixth psalm of David: 'God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the

earth be removed, and though the moun-

tains be carried into the midst of the sea; though the waters thereof roar and

be troubled; though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof. Se-

lah.'"

The Death Struggle. Death to many, nay to all, is a struggle and a wrestle. We have many friends that it will be hard to leave. I care not how bright our future hope is. It is a bitter thing to look upon this fair world and know that we shall never again see its blossoming spring, its falling fruits, its sparkling streams and to say farewell to those with whom we

played in childhood or counseled in manhood. In that night, like Jacob, we may have to wrestle, but God will not leave us unblessed. It shall not be told in heaven that a dying soul cried unto God for help, but was not delivered. The lattice may be turned to keep out the sun, or a book set to dim the light of the midnight taper, or the room may be filled with the cries of orphanage and widowhood, or the church of Christ may mourn over our going, but if Jesus calls all is well. The strong wrestling by the brook will cease; the hour of death's night will pass along--1 o'clock in the morning; 2 o'clock in the morning; 4 o'clock in the morning.

The day breaketh.

So I would have it when I die. I am in no haste to be gone. I have no grudge against this world. The only fault I have to find with the world is that it treats me too well, but when the time comes to go I trust to be ready, my worldly affairs all settled. If I have wronged others, I want then to be sure of their forgiveness. In that last wrestling, my arm enfeebled with sickness and my head faint, I want Jesus beside me. If there be hands on this side of the flood stretched out to hold me back, I want the heavenly hands stretched out to draw me forward. Then, O Jesus, help me on and help me up. Unfearing, undoubting, may I step right out into the light and be able to look back to my kindred and friends who would detain me here, exclaiming: "Let me go; let me go. The

day breaketh!"

The Epidemic of Liberty.

The idea embodied in American insti-

tutions is the most radical that ever took the concrete shape of legislation. We may say, without being charged with a boastful spirit, that we have on the whole the best government on the planet. That is to say, the government which offers the largest opportunities and produces the greatest amount of contentment and prosperity. It is a good thing for 100,000 of our citizens to visit Europe every summer in order to compare the condition of affairs abroad with that enjoyed at home. And it is safe to assert that no man can travel in England or Germany or Russia or Italy without reaching the proud conclusion that the American flag represents more popular rights and a more advanced political economy than any other stripe of bunting that floats in the breeze. The tourist who reaches Sandy Hook after a three or six months' journey in foreign lands without having his pulse jump into the nineties ought to have been born in Nova Zambia or Timbuctoo.--New York Telegram. Harmony and Erudition. There is a popular fallacy among parents that harmony means erudition, and erudition of so abstruse a nature as to be quite beyond the reach of the every day child and to be reserved for the later years after he is grown up, if undertaken at all, and then chiefly when the youth or maiden has what is called "talent." Ah, the much abused word! How gladly would all artists banish it from the vocabulary and from the ears of the American child! Harmony is the only grammar, and grammar of such an entertaining kind that if rightly presented it is fascinating, and of a nature so essential that the musical nonpossessor of it, young or old, is crippled.--Harper's Bazar.

Waited Twenty Years For a Solution. A bit of pure and harmless mischief at recitation at Yale was the device of a member of the class of 1872, who introduced at recitation a turtle covered by a newspaper pasted on the shell. The tutor had too much pride to come down from his perch and solve the mystery of the newspaper's circulation, but 20 years after, meeting a member of the class, his first and abrupt question was, "Mr. W., what made that paper move?"--New Haven Cor. New York Post.

CLEVER SHOOTING. RESULT OF TWO SHOTS LEARNED AFTER TWENTY-NINE YEARS. An Incident In the Practice Work of a Southern Field Day--How Colonel Rich-

ardson Came to Know That He Had Done Some Damage to His Enemies.

When the Washington artillery was at Morgan City, there were many striking incidents that sprang out of the ceremonies of dedicating Fort Star and of practicing with the solid shot. The whole day the way and its memories were kept before the people, but it was not a reawakening in which the bloody shirt had any play, but more of a thoughtful retrospection, in which the recalling of battles was not with bitter-

ness, but with an impartial sadness. Among the happenings of the day none was more singular and noteworthy than one which occurred to Colonel Richard-

son, the commander of the battalion. It was during the time when the batteries were firing shell at the two targets, which looked like tiny handkerchiefs on the water, they were so far away. A good shot was fired and the spectators were applauding the excellent marksmanship, and the colonel stepped up to the gun to command the gunner, when without cause or without knowing why the memory of a similar shot which had been fired 29 years ago almost to the very day flashed into his mind when he had stepped up to a gunner and complimented him in much the same style. It was when he was at Fort Malone at the siege of Petersburg, which was known as Fort "Damnation," when the shot 29 years before had been fired, and the Fourth of July was almost the anniversary of the very day. Instead of white targets for a mark it had been the tops of two Sibley tents which peeped over the ramparts of Fort "Hell," just opposite Fort "Damnation." They were the tents of the Federal officers. He knew that from a deserter who had informed him, also that the officers of the whole command held a daily consultation there, and that he could tell the time from the fact that they hitched their horses around the tents. Colonel Richardson was then a captain in the Washington artillery, and he conceived the idea of scoring a point on the Federals by firing on the tents just at the time of the daily consultation. He selected the best gunner in his command and told him what he wanted him to do, and that was to load and prepare the guns for a special shot which he was going to direct them to make the ensuing day. The young captain was sure that he had gunners he could depend upon, and to make his triumph complete he asked General Malone to be present when the shots were to be fired.

It was noon the next day when the horses of the Federal officers were seen collected around the two tents. The gunners were told to train their guns upon them and to be certain to make their shots tell. Those two shots were made the center of interest of those in Fort "Damnation" for that day, for the word was passed around that the de-

struction of the officers' tents was to be attempted.

After a deal of preliminary arrangements the two shots were fired, and the tops of the two Sibley tents disappeared like cardhouses in a gale of wind. The success of the shots was the signal for cheering on the part of the Confederates. General Malone complimented the accuracy of the artillerymen, and it was then that the captain stepped to the gunner and expressed his approbation in much the same way that he used to the one that had made the good shot at Morgan City. But there had always been a tinge of dissatisfaction about that shot at the Federal tents, and that was that he had never ascertained whether any one had been hurt in the tents, and for the 29 intervening years that one thought had pervaded the whole incident. With these thoughts in mind Colonel Richardson turned away from the gunner at Morgan City, and at that moment one of Morgan City's prominent citizens, Mr. Gray, stepped to the colo-

nel's side and said:

"Isn't this Colonel Richardson?" "Yes."

"Well, I have been wanting to meet you for many years, ever since I heard you had been in Fort 'Damnation' at the same time that I was in Fort 'Hell.'"

"Yes?" said the colonel, "and when were you in Fort 'Hell?'" "In July 1864. In fact, just 29 years ago today," answered Mr. Gray. The colonel instantly thought of those two shots and wondered if his curiosity was to be satisfied. "Do you remember a day while you were opposite me in Fort 'Hell' when the tents of the officers were taken down by two shots which were almost simultaneous?" The stranger did not reply for a full minute. A shadow seemed to fall over him, his eyes grew dark, and he stepped back and surveyed the colonel from head to foot. Then he broke out feelingly: "D--n you! I shall never forget those shots. They swept away the flower of my corps. My first lieutenant was killed, and the leg of my second lieutenant was shot off, and five others were killed. And did you fire that shot?"

The deep feeling of the man was evi-

dent, but a moment later he said, "Well, colonel, you are now teaching your young soldiers to serve the flag for which my officers laid down their lives."--New Orleans Times-Democrat.

Attack on Missionary Work.

American missionaries have been in trouble of late in Turkey, China and Japan. The Japan Herald makes the bitter charge that the "native Christian pastors have no scruples about appropriating the property of other people," and goes on to say that "it is well the charitable, although misguided, enthusiasts in America and Europe who furnish the funds for the support of missionaries in China and Japan should know what has occurred." The Mail goes into specifications of the accusations of gross dishonesty. As to the brutal assault by Turks upon Miss Anna Melton, a Presbyterian missionary in [?], the facts of which have been printed, the Presbyterian board of foreign missions and the department of the United States are exchanging communications, but it is not unlikely that the diplomatic [?] Constantinople will bury the whole [?].

Joshua Thomas of Baltimore, who was a member of General Lee's staff, has given to the Maryland Confederate home the camp chair used by the gen-

eral. It was originally captured from the Federal troops.

The Legendary Adam and Eve.

To the Scriptural account of the creation and fall of Adam and Eve the Jewish writers of the Talmud have added many curious particulars. According to these mythmongers, Adam, when first created, was a "giant of giants," as far as stature goes, his head reaching into the heavens and his countenance outshining the sun in all its splendor. In one place they tell us that "the very angels stood in awe of the man which God had created and all creatures hastened to worship him." Then the Lord, in order to give the angels some idea of his power, caused a deep sleep to come over Adam, and while he was in a comatose condition re-

moved a portion of every limb and bone! The first man thus lost a part of his colossal stature, yet he remained perfect and complete. Next, the first "helpmeet" for the lord of creation was created in the person of Lilith, who forsook Adam to become the "mistress of the air and the mother of demons." After the departure of Lilith, Eve was created and married to Adam in the presence of Jehovah and the angels, the sun, moon and stars dancing together to the angelic music rendered. Then the supreme happiness of the human pair excited the envy of even the angels, and the seraph Sammael tempted them and finally succeeded in bringing about their fall from innocence. Adam lived as a penitent on the very ground now occupied by the temple at Mecca, and Eve in a cave on the side of Mount Ararat, where, after a lapse of 200 years, she was rejoined to Adam.--St. Louis Republic.

Locusts Devouring Locusts.

In the summer of 1883, in which the excessive heat and drought had brought about the nearly entire disappearance of vegetation in a good part of the country and more particularly in the broken country of Banda Oriental, I had occasion to make a journey from San Jose to Mercedes. At one place Las Piedras, at which the diligence stopped, I noticed great numbers of locusts of the species Pezotettix vittiger, Pezotettix maculipennis and Pezotettix arrogans, which covered the ground and rocks.

My attention was attracted by the fact of seeing around one locust a number of other individuals of the same spe-

cies, which were eating its soft parts even while it was yet alive and protest-

ing vigorously. I saw different attacks, in which the conquerors, two or three at a time, got hold of the weaker members of their own kind, throwing them over and opening the abdomen in order to devour the entrails, these being the softer and more savory portions, since they still contained some of the vegetable food. Cannibalism here appeared in its lowest development, and the numerous remains of those which had been eaten bore witness to the extent to which the process had been carried.

In the face of facts of this character, it seems certain that nothing is sacred in nature when the prolongation of life, for the sake of the preservation of the species, is concerned.--Carl Berg in Nat- ural Science.

Stealing Ideas. It must be surprising to the uninitiated to see how soon fashions become general-

ized in Paris. A "creation," a new fashion, is hardly out of an exclusive house of the Rue de la Paix--hardly out of the workrooms, it might be said, when you see it copied in the show windows of the Louvre and the Bon Marche, where it can be bought for less than one-fourth of the price asked for by the great couturiers.

At first the rulers of dress thought that some of their workpeople were bribed to give points, but they soon discovered that the pilfering of ideas took place in the showrooms instead of the workrooms.

The Louvre and the Bon Marche engaged handsome, distinguished looking young women, dressed them as if they had $20,-

000 a year and were accustomed from infancy to having and wearing the best,t gave them a private carriage and had them go to the great costumers to order garments "just come out."

These afterward served as the models of things which the week after you might buy by the dozens. The large shops resort to this means to obtain nov-

elties not only in the beginning of the season, but all the year round, and the couturiers have no way of avoiding the sales, for their showrooms are open to all who wish to purchase and give or-

ders. To be sure those couturiers make most of their creations for authentic princesses and duchesses, but here also the shops get the best of them.--Cor. New York Tribune.

An Eccentric Washington Woman.

There is a woman in Washington so-

ciety whose eccentricities in certain lines are so well known as to pass without comment. Her position as a matron of literary proclivities is the motive for sundry gatherings at her house during the season. On one occasion the guests bidden to the literary feast were informed upon arrival that they must enter by a side door, as the morning being raining they would otherwise track mud over the hall carpet. That the hostess is not so much a respecter of persons as of things is further evidenced by her conduct at an afternoon reception.

Those of her guests whose garments were ornamented with jet were asked during their stay to remain in the second parlor, where the furniture was of mahogany. This sorting out process was explained by the frank announcement that if people would wear sharp orna-

ments on their clothes she must protect her own property by excluding them from the sacred precincts of the first par-

lor so that the rosewood furniture could not be scratched.--Kate Field's Wash-

ington.

How to Keep a Chameleon. The Florida chameleon, which also is infrequently brought home by the tourist, is a bright and intelligent creature. He requires almost unlimited sunshine to bask in, and flies, which he catches on the end of his long tongue, to eat. A fernery is a comfortable place for him.

This fellow, it is said, has a temper, and if not well treated or if teased he will show fight, though he can hardly do much harm. The genuine chameleon, after whom the Florida lizard is named, is one of the quaintest and oddest of pets, but he is a native of the old world and rarely seen in our country.

Another American of the family, often sent from the west and south to pet lovers, is called the horned toad, though he is no toad, but a lizard. He is said to be an interesting pet and capable of being taught. All the small members of this race live on insects and need to be kept in very warm quarters.--Olive Thorne Miller in Harper's Bazar.

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