ravel like boats in a stream, going to this or
that station for such service as they have to perform; and the white
corpuscles, the phagocytes, dart hither and thither like patrol boats,
ready to arrest any contraband cargo of disease germs.

The mileage of the blood circulation reveals some astounding facts in our
personal history. Thus it has been calculated that, assuming the heart to
beat sixty-nine times a minute at ordinary heart pressure, the blood goes
at the rate of two hundred and seven yards in the minute, or seven miles
per hour, one hundred and sixty-eight miles per day and six thousand three
hundred and twenty miles per year. If a man of eighty-four years of age
could have one single blood corpuscle floating in his blood all his life
it would have traveled in that same time five million one hundred and
fifty thousand eight hundred and eight miles.

SOME MICROSCOPIC EUROPEAN REPUBLICS.

ONE IS IN THE LOWER PYRENEES.

It Lies Between France and Spain, and
Every Army in Europe Has Rumbled
Pell-Mell Past Its Very Doors.

A republic without an army--without a navy--without even one
policeman--with only one square mile of territory, and a population of
fifty: who can tell what its name is, and where it is located?

Stranger still, it has stood in the midst of warring nations, and yet
remained as independent as the United States. It has heard the roar of
Napoleon's artillery. There are famous battle-fields on the north of it
and on the south. Great armies from France and Spain and England have
swung past it on all sides. Vast nations have arisen and gone down again
to oblivion, and yet this baby republic goes on for centuries--without
growth and without death.

Goust--which is the name of this wonderful little atom among the nations
of Europe--is situated in the Lower Pyrenees, between France and Spain.

For over two centuries and a half Goust has elected a president every
seven years, and its independence has been recognized by both France and
Spain.

There are two tiny republics in Italy--the famous little state of San
Marino, and the less-known islet of Tavolara. The latter did not become a
republic until recently. In 1830 the absolute dominion of the island was
conceded by Charles Albert, King of Sardinia, to the Bartoleoni family,
whose head became King Paul I.

He was likewise Paul the last, for on his death, in 1882, he requested
that his title should be buried with him and that the kin