sword, about an inch broad and two feet long.
The edges were very blunt, and the point was
quite rounded. It was evidently kept for the purpose,
but there was nothing false about the hilt.
The boy first filled his mouth with melted ghee
from a cup which one of our khitmutgars brought,
and then stood bolt upright, with his face turned
up, his mouth closed and full of ghee. The old
man stood behind him, and inserted the point of
the sword between his lips and teeth, and
gradually pushed it down, until the hilt touched
the teeth ; the ghee had in the mean time run
down his throat. We were now told to come
and feel the sword in his stomach. We pressed
our fingers just where the ribs separate in front,
and there we could distinctly feel the end of the
sword. As soon as we were satisfied, the sword
was slowly drawn out, and, beyond a retch or
two, the boy's inside did not seem to be upset
by this skilful introduction of a thick probe
through the gullet.

The old man now said he must bring the
performances to a close, but before going would
show us something more wonderful than
anything we had seen yet.

"Sahibs," he said, " you saw me make the
mango-tree grow out of the sand; in the
same spot I will make this chokra," putting his
hand on the head of the yellow leather-skinned
boy, " disappear in the earth." We did not
think it very likely that he could do this under
our very noses without our detection of the
trick. However, we arranged ourselves as
before in the verandah, our servants and the
old man's followers forming a semicircle in front
of and facing us. In the centre of the
semicircle, sat the old conjuror; in front of him,
squatted the yellow-skinned boy. The conjuror
now asked for a big basket, and one of our
servants brought him an old hamper from the
outhouse. He took it up and placed it over the
boy so as to cover him altogether. At the moment
of his doing this, I remembered afterwards
that several persons clustered up round him as
if to watch closely what he did. The instant
the basket was on, the old man said, " Does it
press on you?" The peculiar shrill voice of
the boy, which we had been hearing for the last
half hour, answered from underneath, " Yes, it
presses on my head." " Well, be quick and
get into the earth," said the old man, "and
don't keep the sahibs waiting." In about ten
seconds the boy's voice said, " I can't get down,
there is a stone in my way." "Nonsense,"
said the old man; " if you are not gone in two
minutes, I'll flog you." The conversation went
on for some minutes, the boy whining, and the
old man scolding and getting angry. At last
we said, " Oh, let the little brute out; you can't
do the trick while we are watching, and we
never thought you would."

This only made the old conjuror more angry.
He began to curse and swear in Mahrattee
frightfully, declaring he had never before failed in
a trick. We laughed at him until he worked
himself into a rage that was hideous to see. He tore
his puggeree off, threw his arms about, and, all of
a sudden, before we knew what he was going to
do, he seized a spear from one of his followers and
plunged it into the basket. A hideous scream
came from underneath, and blood flowed out
upon the sand. Then, seizing the spear, he
jobbed it repeatedly through the basket, shrieks
following every stroke. Blood flowed like water.
We were astounded, for we did not know
whether this was a trick or not. We called on
our servants to seize the old fellow, but they
seemed to be frightened, and at last two of
us, jumping out of the verandah, rushed
towards the scene of murder. The diabolical old
man was so intent on jobbing in the spear, that he
paid no attention to our coming. My comrade
seized him by the throat. I rushed to the basket
and picked it up. There was nothing under it.
Only the ground was covered with blood. Our
servants crowded round, and the old conjuror, as
soon as he could get his throat from my friend's
grip, said, " There, sahibs ! I was determined
to send that fellow into the earth, and as he
wouldn't go quietly, I had to force him." We
looked round in amazement. " But where's the
boy ?" we asked. " Down there," said the old
man, pointing to the ground ; " but he'll be back
soon." Suddenly we heard the boy's peculiar
shrill voice in the distance, calling out, " Here I
am, sahibs !" Everybody turned their heads in
the direction, and there, running in at the gate of
the compound, was the yellow-skinned boy.

A present of ten rupees sent away the old
conjuror and his party, delighted. How many rupees
would that old man and his yellow-skinned boy
bag, if they came to London and made an affidavit
of communion with spirits, or that they didn't
themselves know how they did what they did?

MARY ANNING, THE FOSSIL FINDER.

EVERY one must have seen at least an
engraving of tiiat strange old-world monster the
Plesiosaurus, of which Cuvier said, when the
skeleton was sent to him from Lyme Regis,
"Verily, this is altogether the most monstrous
animal that has yet been found amid the ruins
of a former world. It had a lizard's head, a
crocodile's teeth, a trunk and tail like an ordinary
quadruped, a chameleon's ribs, a whale's
paddles, whilst its neck was of enormous length,
like a serpent tacked on to the body." This
"liassic, first cousin of all lizards," was
discovered by a self-taught geologist, the daughter
of a Lyme carpenter.

Things in this world pretty much repeat
themselves. Women's pursuits follow this law. In
Lady Jane Grey's time, hard study was fashionable.
Mary Hutchinson and the Duchess of
Newcastle are representatives of a race who
were something far more than mere students.
Then came a frivolous age, and then, by-and-by,
science got to be popular; the ladies' pocket-books
and annuals of some forty or fifty years ago
almost invariably contain a few algebraic
equations besides arithmetical problems like those
which Longfellow's Kavanagh sets his wife, and