119 
1884.] 
AMERIOAl^ AGBIOULTERIST. 
i -was less ice, a small house went by, with an old 
\ woman and a child screaming from an upper win- 
^ dow, and though they had escaped themselves 
they were powerless to help these unfortunates. 
1 Stumps, meanwhile, was in a great state of ex- 
' citement, pricking up his dilapidated ears, wag- 
• eiug his scrap of a tail, and occasionally making 
1 sudden dashes out into the water, returning with a 
i drowned chicken, or a soaked cabbage in his 
^ mouth ; for he was a fine swimmer, and in summer 
I spent almost as much time in the river as on land. 
They were very glad of Nancy’s bread and meat, 
and had just eaten it, when a curious object caught 
their eyes.-“ It’s a cradle,” said Charlie.-“ And 
■ oh ! there is something in it!” exclaimed Nancy. 
' ‘*I see it move. Oh I can’t we sa\e it! heie, 
' Stumps, Stumps, catch it, old boy !”—In a moment 
the dog was by her side, and with a short bark as 
i though he understood, plunged into the seething 
water, and swam toward the little ark floating per¬ 
ilously near some crushing ice blocks. He reaches 
1 it, and clutches one rocker with his teeth, but can¬ 
not draw it along, and casts beseeching glances 
toward the window, from his honest brown eyes.— 
' “ I must help him.” cried Charlie.—“ Oh I no, no, 
I don’t go,” pleaded Nancy ; but as a faint waU of a 
I child reaches their ears, Charlie steps upon the 
window ledge and springs upon a huge cake of ice 
that has lodged against a tree, near the house. It 
' cracks ominously under his weight, but does not 
r give way ; and running lightly and swiftly to the 
extreme edge of the ice floe, and bending far over, 
• he manages to seize and drag toward him the frail 
III cradle boat, in which he sees snugly nestled a fail' 
ij blue-eyed baby, with tears on its cheeks and its rose- 
i bud mouth drawn np in such a pitiful way it goes 
I straight to his heart.—There’s no time to lose, for 
!■ already wi(je gaps appear in the ice behind him ; 
I and springing to his feet, he catches up the tiny 
:■! bed, and makes a rush for life back to the window 
lii where stands Nancy shivering with fear.—She 
i holds out her arms and grasps the cradle, baby and 
j all, just as the ice parts, and down goes poor Char- 
j lie, and disappears under it. With a scream Nan- 
ji cy dropped on the floor, and it would have gone 
i very bard with Charlie if faithful old Stumps had 
!; not been right at hand. In an instant he was after 
|i' him, dragged him into clear water, and swam gal- 
p lantly toward the window, where, though chilled 
I through, Charlie was able to scramble in, to be re- 
fl ceived with a warm embrace from Nancy, who de- 
(j dared “ he was the bravest boy, and Stumps the 
ij very dearest dog in the whole world;” adding, 
!!: “ but do hurry and change your clothes, or you’ll 
! i catch your death cold.—He hastened to do so, and 
> soon returned in his Sunday suit. “ Just see, the 
s sweet little baby you have saved,” said Nancy, 
I who was holding it in her lap by the bedroom fire 
} —which fortunately had not gone out—and feeding 
! it with with warm milk. The little thing drank 
eagerly, laughing and cooing so prettily the chil- 
dren were charmed, and at last it went to sleep, 
f cuddled up in a warm blanket, and watched over by 
r' Stumps, who licked the soft white cheek and seem- 
edto consider the wee stranger his especial property, 
j'i “ I hope we can keep him always,” said Nancy, 
' while Charlie, feeling none the worse for his sud- 
J den bath, examined the cradle, which was daintily 
furnished with snowy linen and a soft silken cov¬ 
erlet, and discovered a square tin box hidden un- 
der the mattress.—“ Somebody has packed away 
' their treasures here,” he thought, lifting the lid 
but found nothing but bundles of papers tied up 
with red tape. “Pshaw! I wonder what they 
'l wanted to save these dusty old things for.” 
If So the day wore away, but the children were 
I quite happy with their new plaything; for the 
^ water baby laughed and played, and seemed quite 
|l contented. And towards evening, when little 
li “Moses”—as Nancy named him because he came 
out of the river—had gone once more to slumber- 
' land, they heard voices without, and a boat was 
rowed up to the window, and their papa and mam- 
i' ma, with anxious faces, entered hurriedly, and 
)' clasped their boy and girl in their arms. “Oh ! I 
: have imagined you drowned, or frozen, or carried 
I' away to the sea, all day,” cried Mrs. Linn.—“I 
hope the poor Squire will be as happy in finding 
his little one,” said her husband, returning to the 
boat, and helping out a gray-haired man who 
looked the “ picture of despair.” “ Come in, Mr. 
Pielding, and rest awhile, before continuing your 
search. You see,” he explained to the children, 
“Squire Fielding’s house is even nearer the river 
than our’s; and while he and his wile were en¬ 
gaged moving out some things, the cradle in which 
his baby was sleeping was washed out of the door 
by a sudden wave, and went floating off down 
the raging stream, nobody knows where.” 
“Did it have a blue silk quilt?” asked Charlie, 
excitedly .—“ Yes, yes,” exclaimed Mr. Fielding, 
“ have you seen it pass here, was it safe ?”—Before 
Charlie could reply Nancy brought the infant from 
the corner and placed it in its father’s arms, who, 
overcome with joy, could scarcely speak a word.— 
Then the story of the rescue was told, and Charlie 
and Stumps were so overwhelmed with compli¬ 
ments it was hard to tell which was the happier or 
prouder of the two.—“ I offered a thousand dol¬ 
lars to whoever saved my chUd, and you and your 
dog have fully earned it,” said Mr. Fielding.— 
“Oh ! no,” replied Charlie, “ Pa won’t let me take 
money for a little thing like that!” At which Mr. 
Linn nodded approvingly.—“ Then I must reward 
you in some other way. Did you And a box in the 
cradle ?”—“Yes, sir. Here it is, safe and sound.” 
Opening it. Squire Fielding selected a paper which 
he placed in Charlie’s hands, saying, “ Give that 
to your father, and tell him his son has cancelled 
it forever.”—Not understanding, the boy handed 
the document to Mr. Linn, who exclaimed with 
joy, “ It is the mortgage, wife ! and our home is 
our own again ! Oh ! what a weight this lifts from 
my shoulders !” while Nancy whispered, “ Mam¬ 
ma, is the dear baby’s father the “dreadful mog- 
gage ?’ ”—“ No darling, he is a good, kind man, the 
mortgage is dead, and will never trouble us again.” 
So the big freshet did some good after all! and 
though Nancy was sorry to part from the blue¬ 
eyed baby, and the parlor carpet was spoiled, Mr. 
Linn always says, “ Thanks to Charlie and Stumps, 
the great spring flood washed our farm clear 
of all debt, and left us the happiest, most In¬ 
dependent family in the whole country side.” 
The Chimpanzee. 
The monkey cage at a menagerie, and the Simla 
(.Monkey family) house in the zoological gardens, 
are always surrounded by crowds. All of the 
monkey family bear more or less resemblance, if 
not in appearance, at least in their ways, to those 
of human heings, and spectators seem to never tire 
of watching them. A small section of this family 
comprises the Gorilla, the 
Orang-outang, and the 
Chimpanzee, animals that 
are nearer man in size and 
also in their appearance 
than the other monkeys. 
Yet the skeletons of these 
differ in a great number of 
important points from that 
of man, and those natur¬ 
alists who claim that there 
is a relationship between 
these and men fail to prove 
that it is a close one. 
Looking at the portrait of 
theChimpanzee here given, 
you will probably not care 
to claim it as that of a very 
near relative.—The Chim¬ 
panzee is a native of West¬ 
ern Africa, and as it does 
not endure a change of 
climate very well, it is sel¬ 
dom seen in this country. 
It differs from the other 
two above-named in not 
living in trees. When 
standing upright it is from 
three to five feet tall, and 
has very long arms. It is 
covered with black hairs 
on the body, with some 
gray ones on the face. 
None of these naturally 
walk erect, and in walking 
they do not set the palm 
of the hand on the ground, 
as do other monkeys, but 
the knuckles, hence this 
group is called “ knuckle- 
walkers;” they also touch 
the ground with the outer edge of the foot. The 
accounts formerly given of these apes that they 
arm themselves with sticks and stones, go in 
large bands to attack the villages of the natives, 
and capture and carry off women and children, 
have been found by later travelers to be only tra¬ 
ditions. They feed entirely upon vegetables and 
only molest the natives by stealing their rice and 
other crops. It is said that the Chimpanzee is one 
of the few animals that makes use of an imple¬ 
ment ; it uses a stone when it has a hard nut to 
crack. When captured young the animal is very 
lively and playful, but as they grow older in cap¬ 
tivity they often become sullen and very ferocious. 
A CLUSTEK OP GEMS NOT USUALLT DISCOVERED 
IN THIS HIDDEN PORM. 
THE CHIMPANZEE AND HIS PET. 
