tic marvels of the world. This curiosity consists of
hundreds of specimens of flowers and plants, all made in glass, and so
true to nature, both in form and colouring, that the flowers seem as if
they had just been gathered. Even the tiny hairs which appear on the
stems of certain plants are faithfully reproduced on these glass
imitations.

These glass plants are made by two Germans, a father and his son, and so
jealously do they guard the secret of the manufacture that it is
possible the knowledge may die with them.

A THOUGHTLESS DAISY.

'Tis very cold,' a Daisy said
Upon a meadow green,
'Dark, gloomy clouds are overhead,
Without a ray between.
These angry gusts of bitter wind
(So unexpected too)
Are really more than I can bear--
They chill me through and through.'

Just then his discontented eye
Looked sorrowfully up,
And chanced across the path to spy
A golden Buttercup.
Its petals flinched before the wind,
The stalk was roughly bent,
And yet the Daisy could not hear
One word of discontent.

And then this foolish Daisy cried:
'It's plain enough to spy,
Most blossoms in this meadow wide
Are better off than I!
They do not mind the shadows dark,
Nor feel the bitter wind;
If I could be a buttercup,
I really shouldn't mind.'

Now, like this Daisy in the grass
Some people I have known,
Who, while their daily troubles pass
Do nothing else but moan,
And think that those who bravely bear
The chilling wind and rain
Can feel no sorrow in their hearts
Because they don't complain.

JOCK'S COLLIE.

A True Story.

Travellers over the great trans-continental railways of the United
States and Canada gaze with awe and wonder at the grandeur of Nature in
the wild canyons and rugged peaks of the Rocky Mountains. In many places
the railway tunnels through overhanging rocks, or winds round narrow
shelves above gloomy precipices.

The railway companies take the greatest precautions for the safety of
their trains in the mountain sections. Besides the usual working gangs,
there are special track-walkers, and 'safety switch-openers,' who lead
solitary lives in the great hills.

Spring thaws and showers loosen the frost-bound soil, trickling
snow-rills grow into gullying torrents, and the jar of a passing train
sets in motion a loose boulder, which, with ever-increasing speed, at
last hu