s lake.

"Who in the world is that?" asked Smith, of Martin, who seemed to
enjoy our astonishment.

"That," replied Martin, "is a gentleman known in these parts as the
'Pile-driver.' He visits all these lakes in the summer season, and
though, as a general thing, he travels alone, yet he sometimes has
half a dozen friends with him. If you'll listen a moment, may be
you'll find that he has a friend in the neighborhood now who will
drive a pile in another place."

Sure enough, in a moment the same ringing blows came from a reedy spot
in a different part of the bay.

"The bird that makes that noise," said Martin, "is about the homeliest
creature in these woods. It is a small grey heron, that lights down
among the grass and weeds to hunt for small frogs and such little fish
as swim along the shore. When he drives his pile, he stands with his
neck and long bill pointed straight up, and pumping the air into his
throat, sends it oat with the strange sound you have heard. It is the
resemblance of the sound to that made by driving a stake into ground
covered with water, that gives him his name. He's an awkward, filthy
bird, but he helps to make up the noises one hears in these
wild regions."

"My first thought was," said Smith, "that we had got among the spirits
of the woods, and that they were 'rapping' their indignation at our
presence, there was something so human about it."

"By the way," remarked the Doctor, "and you remind me of the subject,
what a strange delusion is this Spiritualism, to the 'manifestations'
of which you refer, and how singular it is that men of strong natural
sense and cultivated minds, should be drawn into it. We all know such.
Their delusion, too, is stronger than mere speculative belief. It is a
faith which to them appears to amount to absolute knowledge. They have
no doubt or hesitancy on the subject. Their convictions are perfect;
such, that were they as strong in their faith as Christians, as they
are in the reality of Spiritualism, they would be able to move
mountains."

"I have noticed this intensity of their faith," said Smith; "and while
I utterly reject the whole theory of Spiritualism, I could never join
in the ridicule of its earnest devotees. There is something that
commands my respect in this strong faith, when honestly entertained,
however stupendous the error may be to which it clings. There is
something, to my mind, too solemn for derision in the idea of
communing with the spi