WONDERFUL PRESENCE OF MIND.
It was in India. Dinner was just finished in the mess room, and several English officers were sitting about the table. Their bronzed faces had a set but not unkindly look common among military men. The conversation at best had not been animated, and just now there was a lull, as the night was too hot for small talk. The major of the regiment, a clean-cut man of fifty-five, turned toward his next neighbor at the table, a young subaltern, who was leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head, staring at the ceiling. The major was slowly looking the man over, from his handsome face down, when, with a sudden alertness and a steady voice, he said: "Don't move, please, Mr. Carruthers. I want to try an experiment with you. Don't move a muscle." "All right, major," replied the subaltern, without even turning his eyes. "Hadn't the least idea of moving, I assure you. What's the game?" By this time all the others were listening in a lazy, expectant way. "Do you think," continued the major, with his voice trembling just a little, "do you think you can keep absolutely still for, say, two minutes—to save your life?" "On the contrary, move a muscle and you are a dead man. Can you stand the strain?" The subaltern barely whispered, "Yes," and his face paled slightly. "Burke," said the major, addressing an officer across the table, "pour some of that milk in a saucer, and set it on the floor here just back of me. Gently, man! Quick!" Not a word was spoken as the officer quickly filled the saucer, walked with it carefully around the table, and put it down where the major had indicated on the floor. Like a marble statue sat the young subaltern in his white linen clothes, while a cobra di capella, which had been crawling up the leg of his trousers, slowly raised its head, then turned, descended to the floor, and glided toward the milk. Suddenly the silence was broken by the report of the major's revolver, and the snake lay dead upon the floor. "Thank you, major," said the subaltern, as the two men shook hands warmly. "You have saved my life." "You're welcome, my boy," replied the senior, "but you did your share."—Youth's Companion.