104: 
[March, 
AMERICAN 'AGRICULTURIST. 
[copyright secured.;] 
UNSEEN DANGER S .—Drawn by James Baird .—Engraved for the American Agriculturist* 
“ I’m tired enough of this humdrum life !” sighed Mrs. 
Drake as she waddled disconsolately about the yard, fol¬ 
lowed by her young brood. “ Here I’ve been shut up 
these six weeks in the company of vulgar chickens, with 
nothing but a puddle to swim in, and I can see that 
my darlings are getting the hateful ways of the low young 
ones they have to associate with. Oh, that I could es¬ 
cape to the lake where we used to have such glorious 
parties, and where I first became acquainted with Mr. 
Drake!” “It is awful!” echoed Mr. Drake, who stood 
xnoping near by. “Here I have my new spring suit all 
finished, but it’s no use, there’s no society here.” Just 
then a crash was heard, and part of the poultry-yard 
fence came tumbling down, whore two oxen fighting had 
crowded against it. “Quack! quack 1” shouted Mr. 
Drake in triumph, as he hastened away through the open¬ 
ing, quickly followed by his whole family. Straight they 
steered for the well-known lake, which they soon reached, 
joyous in the prospect of enjoying the world again, as 
they had done before family cares and the prudence of 
their owner had kept them in narrower bounds. “ I 
wonder what we shall have for breakfast this morning,” 
said a hungry young pike who was darting restlessly 
about among the lily stems. “ I’m hungry enough to 
swallow a catfish if I could catch him.” “Catfish be 
hooked 1 ” growled out a snapping turtle that was bur¬ 
rowing in the mud below, hunting for worms. “It’s ’most 
time for young ducks. What a feast I had last year 1 ah, it 
makes my mouth water to think of it 1 ” Proudly Mrs. 
Drake sailed upon the water, followed by her brood, while 
Mr. Drake proudly stood upon the hank admiring his 
prodigies. “How well they dive 1” thought he. “How 
long they stay under I They’re just like their father for 
all the world I They’ll surely make a sensation in society 
when they are educated.” Now you can finish the story 
by looking at the picture, and see how restlessness and 
vanity brought ruin to a family. This will be a much 
pleasanter way to learn the lesson, than to bo dragged 
out into society as some children are by their vain par¬ 
ents and exposed to the hungry fish, always on the 
lookout for prey, that frequent its treacherous depths. 
A Costly TaWe. 
A traveler in Italy relates that he saw a table valued at 
two hundred thousand dollars. It was less than six feet 
in diameter, but had required the work of a large num¬ 
ber of men for fifteen years. It was ornamented with 
mosaic work, that is, stones of different colors and shades 
matched together so as to form various pictures. The 
traveler says : “ Upon entering the hall where this kind 
of work is done, I could not doubt these enormous fig¬ 
ures. Suppose, for instance, a thousand of the hardest 
and most expensive stones which will take on a high 
polish, to be cut into pieces three-eighths of an inch thick. 
These pieces are cut the other way into small pieces like 
shoe pegs, and where the shading from one color to 
another is sudden, these pegs must not be larger than a 
needle. Now the artist cuts and puts in these, selected 
according to their color, so as to give the coloring want¬ 
ed as distinct as though painted. These pieces or pegs 
must be fitted so closely that lines of separation will not 
show, and set upon end, side by side, like types. They 
claim that ten thousand different shades of color are nec¬ 
essary ; and in order to do this kind of work a man must 
he skilled in colors and shades as a painter, in order to 
place the colors properly, and then be the most careful 
and accurate of mechanics, in order to fit the pieces; and 
lie must have patience enough to work on cheap pictures 
one year, and on a fine one, from ten to twenty years.” 
Cwt»M.s Streams. 
A writer in the “ Argos ” says: “ I remember, when a 
boy, sleeping in a strange house, in an old-fashioned 
room, with an oaken store cupboard over the bed. I 
dreamed that I was being murdered ; the assassin struck 
me on the head, and I awoke with a sense of pain in that 
region. Putting my hand to my forehead, I found it 
sticky—with blood! I felt almost too ill to cry for help ; 
but at length I alarmed the household, and, on procuring a 
light, it was discovered that some jam had leaked through 
the bottom of the cupboard, and fallen upon my head in 
a small sluggish stream. A few months ago, shortly be¬ 
fore going to bed, a friend had been discussing with me 
the peculiar instincts of animals, and more particularly 
their sense of the coming on of storms. After this he 
dreamed he was a Worcestershire Short-horn, grazing in 
a pleasant meadow on the Herefordshire side of the Mal¬ 
vern Hills. He had a number of companions. Signs of 
a storm appeared in the sky ; a misty vapor hung on the 
well-known beacon. He remembered distinctly, although 
he was a cow, watching, with a sense of great delight, 
the beauty of the preliminary tokens of the storm. With 
the other cows he quietly strolled toward the shelter of 
an adjacent tree, and waited until the storm should 
break. He distinctly remembered wagging his tail.” 
One of the editors of this paper, while traveling some 
time since, dreamed that he was an advertisement, for 
which there was no room in the paper, and was made 
very uncomfortable by the effort to crowd him into a col¬ 
umn. On awaking he found himself inconveniently- 
crowded in the berth which he was sharing with his son. 
Many troubles, like waves of the ocean, will, if we 
wait calmly, only break at our feet and disappear. 
