He tried to get a trifle closer to the stove, and the consequence was, he tripped the supporting poker and the stove-door tumbled to the floor.

And then there was a revelation--there was nothing in the stove but a lighted tallow-candle! The poor youth blushed and felt as if he must die with shame.

But the Colonel was only disconcerted for a moment--he straightway found his voice again: "A little idea of my own, Washington--one of the greatest things in the world! You must write and tell your father about it--don't forget that, now.

I have been reading up some European Scientific reports--friend of mine, Count Fugier, sent them to me--sends me all sorts of things from Paris--he thinks the world of me, Fugier does.

Well, I saw that the Academy of France had been testing the properties of heat, and they came to the conclusion that it was a nonconductor or something like that, and of course its influence must necessarily be deadly in nervous organizations with excitable temperaments, especially where there is any tendency toward rheumatic affections.