“Not a very satisfactory one. Several of them died in here, and never saw the sun again; while nearly all who lived to be taken out, died within a week or two after. When they reached the light again, it was discovered that all their eyes were perfectly black, no matter what their original color had been.” This fact, my friend and I silently doubted; but subsequent inquiry convinced us that it was true. Any person who desires black eyes can acquire them by a residence of a few months in the Mammoth Cave. If any of my lady readers are afflicted with eyes of celestial blue, and are tired of them, they can have them promptly dyed black by taking apartments for three months in the Mammoth Cave. I don’t advise them to do it, though, for I—John Smith is but mortal—have a weakness for blue eyes that I cannot overcome. A few hundred yards from the Rotunda, the passage widens out into a spacious apartment, styled the “Methodist Church.” It is so-called because a congregation of Methodists used to hold “divine services” there. A good idea; for if they _were_ a little noisy in their adorations, they did not disturb any one; and their prayers could as easily ascend through the two hundred feet of earth above them, as through a slate roof, with a tall spire to point out the way. A little further on we saw a huge rock which had evidently at some time or other fallen from above—I mean from the roof of the cave—which, to look at it from a certain position, is a most perfect semblance of a coffin. It is termed the “Giant’s Coffin,” as the guide informed us. It is forty feet long, twenty feet wide and eight feet deep. It would make a good sarcophagus to bury some great politician in, some day. Just beyond, the guide called our attention to some huge figures on the ceiling above. They represented the outlines of several persons of immense size. He informed us that they were styled the “Giant, his Wife and Child;” and I just wondered, but didn’t ask him, if they were to be put in the “Giant’s Coffin,” when they should die? These figures had been formed by some dark substance that had apparently oozed from the rocky roof. Soon after passing them, we emerged into another spacious apartment, called the “Star Chamber.” It is so called, because the ceiling, which is there of a dark hue, is covered with white spots; and when we gazed upon it for a moment, in the meager light of the lanterns, it looked like the mighty heavens studded with stars. “Now,” said the guide, “sit down on those rocks there a little while, and I will take all the lamps and retire into a recess, where you cannot see a single beam of them. You can then see what perfect darkness is.”