Two incidents have come under our notice which set forth this distinction more forcibly than any form of words we could employ. A farmer living in the back country, near the city of Shreveport, brought his son--a youth whose adolescency would hardly have escaped the notice of strangers--to that thriving burg to view the sights. The steamboat feature was down in the programme, of course, and reaching the wharf, the youngster was commissioned to go aboard and obtain the exact "geography" of "the thing." This he proceeded to do with all haste, exploring the quarter-deck, rummaging through the cabins, and finally bringing up before the engine with a manner that said as plainly as words, "the thing is inconceivable." The engineer, standing not far off, observed this movement, and, probably without contemplating such serious results, stepped briskly forward and touched the safety-valve. Startled beyond all "fancy fathoms" by the earthquake of sound, "country" accomplished a rapid retrograde movement, which soon involved him in conflict with the waves, whence, floundering and spluttering, after the fashion of a porpoise, and having absorbed a barrel or more of river water, he was with difficulty rescued. Being dragged ashore, and before the agonies of drowning had fairly relinquished his frame, a sympathizing bystander asked if he had been much scared. His reply was characteristic of the Caucasian blood, "No-o-o (splutter); I've (splutter) seen the critters afore." Not many hundred miles north of the city of Galveston, while the Texas Central Railroad was in course of construction, and at a little town which formed its northern terminus for the time being, occurred the following: