he two fires, and that in the upper portion, which explains
the intermittent character of the eruptions of a Geyser, but it is not
necessary for us to go into all his details.

When we know that under a Geyser the water is boiling in a great
reservoir which communicates with the surface by a natural tube or
spout, we need not wonder that occasionally a volume of steam bursts
forth, sending a column of water far into the air.

A GIANT PUFF-BALL.

[Illustration]

I suppose you have all seen puff-balls, which grow in the fields like
mushrooms and toadstools, but I am quite sure that you never saw
anything of the kind quite so large as that one in the picture. And
yet that engraving was made from a drawing from the puff-ball itself.
So we need not suppose that there is anything fanciful about it.

The vegetable in question is a kind of _fungi_ called the Giganti
Lycoperdon, and it attains its enormous size in one night! It springs
from a seed so small that you could not see it, and grows, while you
are asleep, to be bigger, perhaps, than you are yourself!

Think of that! How would you like to plant the whole garden, some
afternoon, with that kind of seed? Would not your father and mother,
and everybody else, be astounded when they woke up and saw a couple of
hundred of those things, as big as barrels, filling up every bed!

They would certainly think it was the most astonishing crop they had
ever seen, and there might be people who would suppose that fairies or
magicians had been about.

The great trouble about such a crop would be that it would be good for
nothing.

I cannot imagine what any one would do with a barnful of Lycoperdons.

But it would be wonderfully interesting to watch the growth of such a
_fungus_. You could see it grow. In one night you could see its whole
life, from almost nothing at all to that enormous ball in the picture.
Nature could hardly show us a more astonishing sight than that.

TICKLED BY A STRAW.

[Illustration]

From his dreams of tops and marbles,
Where the soaring kites he saw,
Is that little urchin wakened,
Tickled by a wheaten straw.

How do you suppose he likes it,
Young one with annoying paw?
If I only were your mother,
I'd tickle you with birchen straw.

Soon enough, from pleasant dreaming,
You'll be wakened by the law,
Which provides for every vision
Some sort of provoking straw.