The race was kept up for more than a
mile, and during the entire distance the
fellow who was on top kept yelling,
"Run, yourun," and the hair of the
fellow who was running held his hat
poised four inches from his head while
he headod for the valley. Often the
rolling snow struck the heels of his
shoes, but it did not quite get him.
More quickly that it takes to tell it the
hunted man dashed out into the valley,
and what he thought was safety. The
valley, however, was more dangerous
than the mountain, as an unseen gulch
crossed it, into which the hunted man
fell. Providence, though was kind to
him, for the slide had spent its force,
and the snow piled up on the bank
over which he had fallen.
When the two were able to look
around, one was lying at the bottom of
the gulch, while the other was seated
upon the crest of the snow bank that
looked over its edge.
A Community of Lunatic*.
The celebrated Belgian colony of the
insane at Gheel has nothing in its ex
ternal appearance suggestive of the
ordinary lunatic asylum its inhabi
tants give no superficial indications
that a large proportion of them are
madman. If one would conceive what
Gheel is, he must imagine a tow of
five or six thousand souls, in no way
different from other towns of like im
portance, surrounded by a number of
hamlets containing altogether, perhaps,
about as many more inhabitants.
These people have been, from a very
remote period, in the h^bit of taking
insane persons to board in their houses.
