In the parlor where it was first tried a party of scientific gentlemen and ladies were seated conversing upon subjects of deep interest, and the Professor had been explaining the bias of the mind toward superstition. "For instance," said he, "I can easily convince you that I can perform an impossibility, or something that has at least always been so considered. I can light a snow-ball with a common match." Of course all present ventured to doubt this statement, and several declared that it was impossible to deceive them into such a belief. The Professor at once opened the window, and took from the sill a great handful of snow which had lately fallen. Rolling it up into a ball, he placed it upon a plate, and passed it around to be inspected by each member of the company. All having assured themselves that everything was correct, and that there was no deception in the plate or snow, he placed the plate upon the mantel, rolled the snow into a closer ball, and in the full view of all the company, took a common match from the match-box, and lighted the snow-ball, which immediately broke out into a cheerful blaze. The Professor then passed the plate around to each of the company, and great were the expressions of astonishment as the flame rose higher and higher from the snow. Some economists doubtless planned a wise paper on the advantage to the poor to be derived from this new species of fuel, and no one of the incredulous could guess how the clever trick was done. It was very simple, however. The Professor had slipped a piece of crude camphor, of about the size and shape of a chestnut, into the top of the snow-ball. He then applied the match to the smaller end, which was uppermost, and was pushed so far into the soft snow as to be invisible.
A smart boy can make a great deal of fun by giving a burlesque lecture on heat, and illustrating it by this remarkable experiment. He can have the small piece of camphor, sharpened to a point, in his vest pocket, and can take it out while feeling for a match, and can easily slip it into the snow-ball just before lighting it. The softer and fresher the snow, the easier it will be to conceal the slight difference in color between the two substances, which becomes less perceptible after the camphor has burned for a few moments.
[ENIGMA.]
A very little thing am I,
Not found in ocean, earth, or sky;
Who'll find me out? who'll guess? who'll try?
Me do the vivid lightnings bring,
And without me the fierce Fire King
Is nothing but a shapeless thing.
Yet in the frigid arctic clime
You'll find me in the ice and rime,
And in the iceberg's height sublime.
You hear me in the winds that wail
When driving wintry ice and hail
To shiver rigging, ship, and sail.
You'll see me in the sunshine bright
That glitters in the lily white,
And in the flick'ring faint moonlight.
You'll spy me in your birthday gift,
And in the rippling river swift
That issues from the hill-side rift.
Within the rain that feeds the ground,
And in the ship that's homeward bound,
And in deep tin mines am I found.
Seek me in china, not in delf;
And when you've guessed, quick-witted elf,
You'll find I'm not unlike yourself.
FUN ON THE ICE.—"SHINNY ON YOUR OWN SIDE."
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Begun in No. 101, Harper's Young People.