PLAYING "HOOKEY."
"Jimmy, I wonder if School's out yet?"
A Good Samaritan who would not tell his Name.—Oberlin, the well-known philanthropist of Steinthal, while yet a candidate for the ministry, was travelling on one occasion from Strasburg. It was in the winter-time. The ground was deeply covered with snow, and the roads were almost impassable. He had reached the middle of his journey, and was among the mountains, but by that time was so exhausted that he could stand up no longer. He was rapidly freezing to death. Sleep began to overcome him; all power to resist it left him. He commended himself to God, and yielded to what he felt to be the sleep of death. He knew not how long he slept, but suddenly became conscious of some one rousing him and waking him up. Before him stood a wagon-driver in his blue blouse, the wagon being not far away. He gave him a little wine and food, and warmth returned. He then helped him into the wagon, and brought him to the next village. The rescued man was profuse in his thanks, and offered money, which his benefactor refused. "It is only a duty to help one another," said the wagoner, "and it is the next thing to an insult to offer a reward for such a service." "Then," replied Oberlin, "at least tell me your name, that I may have you in thankful remembrance before God." "I see," said the wagoner, "that you are a minister of the Gospel: please tell me the name of the Good Samaritan." "That," said Oberlin, "I can not do, for it was not put on record." "Then," replied the wagoner, "until you can tell me his name, permit me to withhold mine." Soon he had driven out of sight, and Oberlin never saw him again.
Earthquakes in Chili.—In some parts of South America men keep their "earthquake coats," which are dresses that can be put on instantaneously, with a view to a speedy exit from the house. The advisability of such a practice may be inferred from the picture of one of the features of life in Chili which is set forth in the following extract from a letter of a young Englishman, who settled at Valparaiso a few years ago. Under date of November 16 he writes: "I am in a most nervous state on account of having had three days and nights of successive earthquakes—fearful ones. The first night I walked the streets, and indeed every one else did the same; the second night I went to bed quite exhausted at about 3 a.m.; last night also at about 2 a.m., but I could not sleep, for we had about six shocks, though not so strong. The whole cornice of a house close to ours came down into the street, but luckily no one was passing at the time. The women rush into the street in their night dresses, screaming like lunatics, and one trembles from head to foot. I was crossing our street when the strongest shock came, and I was transfixed with fright, for the road was going up and down like waves. My hand even now shakes, for at any moment we may have another, and how strong it may be no one can tell. I can assure you I am afraid to take off my clothes. The large squares have been filled for the last three nights with beds and people wrapped up in blankets."