ier!

I said, before this long digression broke the slender chain of
narration, that some strange, spiritualistic shadow lay in the eyes of
Ned Martin; and I could have sworn, without the possibility of an error,
that he had become an habitual reader of the inner life, and almost
beyond question a communicant with influences which some hold to be
impossible and others unlawful.

The long measuring-worms hung pendent from their gossamer threads, as we
passed through the Park, as they have done, destroying the foliage, in
almost every city of the Northern States. One brushed my face as I
passed, and with the stick in my hand I struck the long threads of
gossamer and swept several of the worms to the ground. One, a very large
and long one, happened to fall on Martin's shoulder, lying across the
blue flannel of his coat in the exact position of a shoulder-strap.

'I say, Martin,' I said, 'I have knocked down one of the worms upon
_you_.'

'Have you?' he replied listlessly, 'then be good enough to brush it off,
if it does not crawl off itself. I do not like worms.'

'I do not know who _does_ like them,' I said, 'though I suppose, being
'worms of the dust,' we ought to bear affection instead of disgust
toward our fellow-reptiles. But, funnily enough,' and I held him still
by the shoulder for a moment to contemplate the oddity, 'this
measuring-worm, which is a very big one, has fallen on your shoulder,
and seems disposed to remain there, in the very position of a
_shoulder-strap_! You must belong to the army!'

It is easy to imagine what would be the quick, convulsive writhing
motion with which one would shrink aside and endeavor to get
instantaneously away from it, when told that an asp, a centipede or a
young rattlesnake was lying on the shoulder, and ready to strike its
deadly fangs into the neck. But it is not easy to imagine that even a
nervous woman, afraid of a cockroach and habitually screaming at a
mouse, would display any extraordinary emotion on being told that a
harmless measuring-worm had fallen upon the shoulder of her dress. What
was my surprise, then, to see the face of Martin, that had been so
impassive the moment before when told that the worm had fallen upon his
coat, suddenly assume an expression of the most awful fear and agony,
and his whole form writhe with emotion, as he shrunk to one side in the
effort to eject the intruder instantaneously!

'Good God! Off with it--quick! Quick, for heaven's sa