Tambuni to the first falls. In the Crystal Mountains he fell in with tribes absolutely unknown up to the present, or who at least had not been seen by whites with rare exceptions—the Etemo, the Manga, the Otonto, and the Toko. These people are described as very inoffensive; they regarded their white visitor as a curious animal, and had a certain fear of him. When he asked them to accompany him into the interior they agreed readily. They are frightfully poor, being obliged to give up planting on account of the ravages of elephants and gorillas, which are very numerous and daring. Not a single night passed, the traveler states, that he did not hear those animals ravaging around the villages, which are mostly very large. As soon as the animals are known to be near, the whole village is on foot endeavoring to frighten them away by shouting. In these nocturnal expeditions, in which the explorer took part, he noticed that the head man of the village addressed a speech to the elephants, and that in this speech his own name was pronounced. He was told that the elephants were threatened to be handed over to him, and that, if they did not fly at once, they would be visited on the morrow, and the white man would kill them. If the elephant seizes a plant with its trunk, the people immediately raise a dreadful, plaintive howling, and the principal orator addresses, in a lamentable voice, supplications to the enormous brute.
The Animal "Outing."—That the change of scene and air secured by an annual "outing" is beneficial to health can not be doubted. The relief afforded counts for much, the opening up of new sources of energy counts for more, in the sum of advantages gained. Meanwhile, not only will the profit be small, but the result questionable, unless the relief and the sense of freshness are shared by mind and body alike. In a word, perfect absence of worry is essential to the full enjoyment and restorative action of the holiday. This is just what the majority of persons, particularly the heads of families, forget, for themselves and those around them. A jaded mind needs rest quite as much as a weary body, and neither the one nor the other can obtain the sort of rest which is essential to a complete renewal of strength without the awakening of new interests. The simple cessation of work may in some few instances give relief, but much more than this is necessary for the recovery of health and renewal of energy when mind and body are exhausted by long-continued or monotonous toil, or domestic duty. It follows that, in the choice of a locality and in the manner of conducting the trip, the inclination should be consulted not less than general convenience. It is too much the practice to make a toil of a pleasure, and create occasions of annoyance in the course of the annual holiday. Everything should be planned to leave the mind free as regards the obligations of home duty, and enable it to share the advantages of the change bestowed on the body. There is plenty of thought for the physical part of man's nature; it may not be unreasonable to put in a plea for the consideration of his needs as a being endowed with a mental part, which is apt to be overmuch burdened with responsibility and harassed by many cares. The annual outing will be incomparably more enjoyable, and productive of lasting benefit, if these needs of the mind are considered, instead of being systematically overlooked. People go away anxious, and return to mourn over the smallness of the benefit they have received. They took their worries with them, and might almost as well have staid at home.—Lancet.
What is a Poison?—Under the fanciful title of "The Keys of Death," we find in the "Monthly Journal of Science" a very interesting article on the subject of poisons. The author asks, in the first place, what is a poison, but science, he holds, is not yet qualified to give an answer. Certain physiologists have concluded that whatever is poisonous in large doses must also be poisonous in the minutest. But it is easy to give instances where, if the reagents employed are less in proportion, or weaker than the required standard, we obtain, not a smaller quantity of the product sought for, but a substance totally different. Oxygen is a case in point: diluted, it sustains life; pure, it destroys it. So with sulphuric acid. Mixed largely with water, it is a refreshing, tonic beverage; in the concentrated state it destroys all parts of the system which it touch-