Waterbury evening Democrat., 1893-03-15
BURSTING OF A SAND BOX,
The Danger That Lurked In an Innocens Pod.

The Danger That Lurked In an Tnnocen, Pod.
 Bolten had spent the winter wander. | ing among the West India islands, and
 when he got back had a medley of curi-
 osities which he had picked up in his
 travels Among them were all sorts o1
 beans and pods of tropical trees, and of
 the former were John Crow beans, the
 Sgarry, the horse-eye, Jobs tears and
 many others There were the long, scabbard-like pods of the crimson-how-
 cred acassia; cocoa pods, which rattled
 with the dry chocolate seeds inside
 them, and he also had two pods of the l sand-box tree, curious circular store houses for the seeds, deeply ribbed, each rib running from top to bottom of the pod. These two latter received places of honor in lacquer trays, the smaller beans finding room around them. Bolten was a natty man, and on his mantelshelf in his bedroom were arranged these treasures presided over by four statuettes of nude goddesses.
 The vegetable ornaments of the shelf were the most innocent-looking things imaginable, and he never dreamed for a moment that nature was still busy bringing to perfection those sand boxes. He had gone to bed after a hard days work and was sleeping the sleep of the just when he was awakened by what he thought was a pistol shot in his room At the same time missiles were flying all around. As he jumped out of bed to light the gas there was a second explosion, and this time he was pep pered with all sorts of missiles
 The carpet was strewn with objects which were not pleasant to tread on, and in his anxiety to escape them and get at the jet he nearly broke the small toe of his right foot by jamming it against chair leg. He nursed it affec- tionately, but sadly for some time, swearing in undertones, but afraid to give loud expression to his pent-up feelings lest there might be fusilade. At last, like a cat walking over hot bricks, he reached the jet and lighted the gas. The treasures of the mantel- piece were scattered about the room. The goddesses had been hurled from their high places and looked like Ro- man remains, headless and armless. The lacquer trays were in small pieces, while the pods and beans were scat tered all over the room. The goblet had even been broken and the water was standing in puddles about the carpet The sand box had vanished. He searched around carefully. There was no trace, so far as ho could see, of the explosions. He gathered up his broken and scattered treasures, finding among them segments of the sand boxes, and then, leaving the gas alight, tried to sleep. Of the strange occur rences he said not word to his friends.
 The other day a friend was in his rooms and looking over the collected remnants remarked: "HelloI Here are pieces of a sand box"
 ''What is that?"
 s'Well, it's the fruit of a tree that grows in the West Indies, and got its name owing to the planters using it in the days before plotting paper was in- vented for sand boxes. The seeds were cut out of the center and the pod was then filled with sand It was rather an unsatisfactory box, however, as it often exploded"
 Exploded! What do you mean?"
 ''This is the fruit of Hura crepitans, a large tree something like the tulip tree of this country. As soon as the seed is ripe it explodes with report like gun, the seeds and shell of the pod being scattered in all directions So great is the force of the explosion that the broken pieces are thrown forty and fifty feet. Fowls, as soon as they hear an explosion, run toward the tree and are soon busy looking for the seeds, which they greedily swallow"
 That explains it." said the other, and he then told the story of his shat tered works of art-N. Y. Tribune.