Light plays so many tricks with our eyes and senses that it is possible to narrate but a few of them here.  But those that I have mentioned are enough to show us what a wild fellow he is, especially where he and glass get frolicking together.

SAVING THE TOLL.

[Illustration]

When I was a youngster and lived in the country, there were three of us boys who used to go very frequently to a small village about a mile from our homes.  To reach this village it was necessary to cross a narrow river, and there was a toll-bridge for that purpose.  The toll for every foot-passenger who went over this bridge was one cent.  Now, this does not seem like a very high charge, but, at that time, we very often thought that we would much rather keep our pennies to spend in the village than to pay them to the old man who took toll on the bridge.  But it was often necessary for us to cross the river, and to do so, and save our money at the same time, we used to adopt a very hazardous expedient.

At a short distance below the toll-bridge there was a railroad-bridge, which you cannot see in the picture.  This bridge was not intended for anything but railroad trains; it was very high above the water, it was very long, and it was not floored.  When any one stood on the cross-ties which supported the rails, he could look right down into the water far below him.  For the convenience of the railroad-men and others who sometimes were obliged to go on the bridge, there was a single line of boards placed over the ties at one side of the track, and there was a slight hand-rail put up at that side of the bridge.

To save our pennies we used to cross this bridge, and every time we did so we risked our lives.

We were careful, however, not to go on the bridge at times when a train might be expected to cross it, for when the cars passed us, we had much rather be on solid ground.  But one day, when we had forgotten the hour; or a train was behind, or ahead of time; or an extra train was on the road—­we were crossing this railroad bridge, and had just about reached the middle of it, when we heard the whistle of a locomotive!  Looking up quickly, we saw a train, not a quarter of a mile away, which was coming towards us at full speed.  We stood paralyzed for a moment.  We did not know what to do.  In a minute, or less, the train would be on the bridge and we had not, or thought we had not, time to get off of it, whether we went forward or backward.

But we could not stand on that narrow path of boards while the train was passing.  The cars would almost touch us.  What could we do?  I believe that if we had had time, we would have climbed down on the trestle-work below the bridge, and so let the train pass over us.  But whatever could be done must be done instantly, and we could think of nothing better than to get outside of the railing and hold on as well as we could.  In this position we would, at any