The people of this neighborhood are very much alarmed over the fact that a monster snake has been seen at large on the outskirts of the town for a number of days, and it is feared that somebody will be attacked by the serpent before it is killed or captured.

The monster was first seen about three weeks ago by Justice Veltor. Since then it has been seen at intervals by I. W. Valentine, superintendent of the Baptist Union Sunday School, and by Dr. Oliver Jones. The latter chased the snake into the woods in an effort to capture it, but was unsuccessful.

All agreed that the snake is about fourteen feet in length, with a body as big around as a pail. Its head is diamond-shaped, and the top is surmounted by a crest that is shaped like a crown.

Some time ago, Dr. Wood, a resident of this place, died, but before his death he liberated a number of large snakes which he held captive. The snake which has been seen is believed to be one of them. The monster is referred to by the people hearabouts as the “King of Snakes.”

[tags]Ann Arbor Register, September, 1895[/tags]

Some time ago it was announced that bee farming had been taken up at Gennevillers, one of the most loathesome industrial suburbs of Paris. This was treated as a joke, but the news is, our correspondent says, nevertheless true, and the Prefect of the Seine has just received a petition from the inhabitants to abate the nuisance. The bees live upon the sugar refineries of the neighborhood, clearing away all the dust of the roofs, and even landing on the bare backs of the workmen. It has been stated by a sugar refiner that every hive in the neighborhood carries away twenty shillings’ worth of sugar in a year from the factories. He does not, however, complain of this loss, but of the irritation the perpetual buzz inflicts on the workmen.

The idea that the hair snakes come from hairs thrown into water, is much more universal than you may suppose. It was only the other day that a lady was talking with the Professor:

“You needn’t tell me that it isn’t so, because I’ve pulled hairs out of my own head and put them in water, and have seen them turn into snakes before my own eyes.”

What could a poor Professor say? For, of course, he didn’t believe her for a minute. She may have seen the hairs move with the motion of the water, and so made up her mind that they must have turned to snakes. You may feel very sure, however, that no hair put into water ever became a snake. In fact the so-called hair-snake is only a worm. You will find it at certain seasons of the year in small pools of water and even on wet or damp cabbages.

Examine one through a microscope and you will see that it has little rings around its long, slender body. It is what scientific books call an annulated worm.

There is one very strange thing about these creatures; they are never still, but constantly wriggling about. Neither do they stretch themselves to their full length when on the ground, but curl themselves up in some way or other.

You have seen an ordinary earth worm crawling into his hole, and have noticed that he pulls his body in almost a straight line; but when the hair worm creeps, his body is generally in the form of a semi-circle.

You remember the notices in the paper about a great “shower of snakes” in Memphis, Tenn., a year ago last winter. These were our hair worms; and, as they were found only in one place in the city, scientific men thought that the heavy storm must have blown and washed them from some neighboring pool or garden.

For such little fellows they seem to be just crowded with life, it being comparatively difficult to kill them when in water.–Christian Union.

“Business is business,” says the man vowed to that life, and so it is unquestionably, but equally, personality is personality. Leaving the latter out of consideration will throw business calculations about as far astray as those of the astronomer who does not allow for personal equations. This the successful man of affairs fully understands.

When it can be recognized there is nothing more interesting than watching the actual consultation of a business man with the promptings of his won mind’s equations. Such power of consultation is not possessed by all and is invisible with many of those who have it.

I remember hearing a young business man describe such a rare revelation in an interview with an older business friend known as the keenest financier. The proposition which the young man had to present was reasonable, seemingly sure of success, and he himself believed in it enthusiastically.

“I laid it before the old fellow,” he said, “one by one meeting and explaining the vexed points he raised. He ceased questioning me finally because the patent value of the proposition seemed proved so far as words go. He nodded affirmation as each heading was checked off. I felt emboldened to ask: ‘What do you think of it, sir?’ And then I saw a curious sight. The old fellow sat motionless, looking away into space, his blue eyes growing innocent and far away as a child’s who is listening to a distant and familiar voice. I could have sworn that he heard something which I did not. Finally he turned to me with a smile and shook his head. ‘I can’t exactly believe in your plan,’ he said. I sat staring at him. I knew, and he knew, that his reason was convinced; it was an instinct alone that held the old man back–an instinct in which he superstitiously trusted and on which he obstinately acted. It was the most extraordinary thing I ever saw. The more so that events have proved the warning voice gave him a private information which was more than correct. The plan failed dismally, as I too well know.”

Extraordinary or not, those who come in contact with successful business men will see the same phenomenon repeated over and over in greater or less degree. Call it a genius for affairs or what you will, this curious power of divination remains still as unexplained a mystery as any other kind of second sight.

The Louisville Journal of Monday has the following:

Mrs. Carter who lives on Green street, between Ninth and Tenth, as a son about seventeen years of age, who is so accustomed to walking in his sleep that his mother has found it necessary to have him sleep in the same room with her, so that he may be watched over. Yesterday morning, however, about two o’clock, he arose in his sleep, and was not discovered in time to prevent him from leaping over the balustrade of the back porch, in the third story of the house, to the pavement below, a distance of about twenty-five feet. After this freak the family rushed down stairs, expecting to find him lying there a bruised and mangled corpse, but all their searching was in vain. Pretty soon a vigorous pull was made at the door bell, and the door was opened, when in stalked the somnambulist “as large as life,” and inquired “what’s the matter?” A surgeon was immediately called, and the young man was found to be not seriously injured, he having only a few slight bruises on each arm. It is said that he did not awake until after the physician had made his examination.

Weeds along railroad tracks are now killed by the “electric weed-killer.” It consists of a car carrying a dynamo, which sends a heavy current into a sort of rake of fine wires dragging among the weeds on each side of the track. As the wires touch them the weeds are “electrocuted” down to their smallest rootlets. It is proposed to introduce the same system in farming.

Although still so young a man, Nikola Tesla is beginning to find the honors shower thickly upon him. He has already been made, within the last year, a doctor by Columbia College, and an M.A. by Yale, while one of the leading universities of the far west has recently invited him to accept one of its diplomas. A couple of years ago he received the rare order of St. Sava from the King of Servia, and last week news reached him officially that the Order of the Eagle had been conferred upon him by the Prince of Montenegro, who may be said to represent the race from which Tesla springs. His own people are very proud of this young genius, even though he has become an American citizen, and not long ago the unique honor was bestowed upon him by the Servian government depart of posts and telegraphs, of printing a special Tesla postage stamp. When Mr. Tesla went home to his native land four or five years ago, each of the six morning newspapers in Belgrade saluted his arrival the same day with an original poem. The modest inventor appreciates these manifestations deeply, but he says laughingly to his friends that he “would go home oftener if there was less of it.”