The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1893-09-07

toric times. Could you tell me if sponges
are or are not divided as to sex, as are
most Of the lower as well as higher order
of life?''
Yes, the question is really considered
settled by late authorities, though at first
in grave doubt. Even mollusks are, many
of them, now so divided.
It is wonderful study, Napoleon, the
relation of the sexes, for instance, in the
public schools of Spanish mackerel, and
the communities of gasteropods, and the
various types of conchifers.
Who would think that away down in
the bottom of the sea, where the bones
of dead men lie covered with moss and
the treasures that it has taken thousands
of years to accumulate upon the face of
the earth lie forgotten in the back yard
of polyp or echinoderln, the line sclose-
ly drawn, and the little sponges, some
of them. are playing circus and pirates.
while the others construct playhouses
and carry dolls, while at the head of the
school we may find large carriage
sponge as tutor, who tutes in summer
and boards around sponging on her rela-
tives in winter? All these are divided into
two great classes, like the higher order
of vertebrates.
Is it not remarkable, Napoleon, that
the sponge should love and be loved at
the bottom Of the deep, deep sea? Do
you not wonder as you think that in the
show window of the druggist there are
fragments of broken hearts and envy
and jealousy and unrequited love?
Away down in the bottom of the sea,
where the Atlantic cable and McGinty
lie together, sponge yearns for sponge
with great big yearn that distance and
damp weather cannot destroy.
once knew little quiet sponge that
had no parents living, and she was given
to introspection and absorbed knowledge
or anything else that came along, and
she grew to be very beautiful, with blond
tresses and features enough for Sunday
paper.
She grew up under the eye of an uncle
who did not care for her and who carved
in such way as to give her the salty
and disagreeable end of the joint, and in
other ways he was unpopular with her.
She loved large tan sponge with
liGuid'eyes who sat near her on rock
the livelong day for 80 years, like an aris-
tocrat. He spoke of his love to the cruel
old uncle, but he told him to go and soak
his head.
And SO while they suffered on, hoping
for a merciful death to come and carry
off the old gent, she was one day torn
from the rock on which she had so long
been seated that she seemed rooted to
the spot, and now far away, where even
the murmur of the sea is never heard,
she is the top of sour and unhappy
mucilage bottle on the desk of a man
who uses grammar that he has learned
by ear and who gesticulates with his
tongue while he writes and contributes
the literature that is marked "Commu-
nicated."
Yes, Napoleon, even into all sponge
life some rain must fall.
Mortimer G. Tidd, Erin Prairie, Wis,
writes: II am a constant reader and a
young man of "a years old. was en-
couraged by what you have said to sort
of branch out for myself and try to free
myself from my environments at home
80 as that could, as say, branch out
for self and get start. have no money
to speak Of, but felt that I should no
longer be burden on my parents, and
they agreed with me.
II got on train and rode as far as
could, which brought me to small town,
where thought would practice medi-
cine. There were no other physicians
there, and I got off there more on that
account than anything else.
Il felt encouraged to sort Of make q
large wild ass Of myself partly because