And now, have you had enough water?

We have seen how the waters of the earth may be enjoyed, how they may be made profitable to us, and when we should beware of them.

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But before we leave them, I wish to show you, at the very end of this article, something which is a little curious in its appearance.  Let us take a step down to the very bottom of the sea; not in those comparatively shallow places, where the divers descend to look for wrecks and treasure, but in deep Water, miles below the surface.  Down there, on the very bottom, you will see this strange thing.  What do you suppose it is?

It is not an animal or a fish, or a stone, or shell.  But plants are growing upon it, while little animals and fishes are sticking fast to it, or swimming around it.  It is not very thick—­scarcely an inch—­and we do not see much of it here; but it stretches thousands of miles.  It reaches from America to Europe, and it is an Atlantic Cable.  There is nothing in the water more wonderful than that.

HANS, THE HERB-GATHERER.

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Many years ago, when people had not quite so much sense as they have now, there was a poor widow woman who was sick.  I do not know what was the matter with her, but she had been confined to her bed for a long time.

She had no doctor, for in those days many of the poor people, besides having but little money, had little faith in a regular physician.  They would rather depend upon wonderful herbs and simples, which were reported to have a sort of magical power, and they often used to resort to charms and secret incantations when they wished to be cured of disease.

This widow, whose name was Dame Martha, was a sensible woman, in the main, but she knew very little about sickness, and believed that she ought to do pretty much as her neighbors told her.  And so she followed their advice, and got no better.

There was an old man in the neighborhood named Hans, who made it a regular business to gather herbs and roots for moral and medical purposes.  He was very particular as to time and place when he went out to collect his remedies, and some things he would not touch unless he found them growing in the corner of a churchyard—­or perhaps under a gallows—­and other plants he never gathered unless the moon was in its first quarter, and there was a yellow streak in the northwest, about a half-hour after sunset.  He had some herbs which he said were good for chills and fever; others which made children obedient; others which caused an old man’s gray hair to turn black and his teeth to grow again—­if he only took it long enough; and he had, besides, remedies which would cure chickens that had the pip, horses that kicked, old women with the rheumatism, dogs that howled at the moon, boys who played truant, and cats that stole milk.

Now, to our enlightened minds it is very evident that this Hans was nothing more than an old simpleton; but it is very doubtful if he thought so himself, and it is certain that his neighbors did not.  They resorted to him on all occasions when things went wrong with them, whether it was the butter that would not come in their churns, or their little babies who had fevers.