poor fellow, as he seeks to assume an attitude favourable for the photographer, and yet affording a modicum of comfort to himself. The development of this conjurer's throat was remarkable. Long practice in sword and bell swallowing had evidently not only enlarged the muscles, but also toughened the membranes. Otherwise, it would seem impossible for a man to endure, without serious inconvenience, the wriggling and crawling of snakes in this most sensitive part of the anatomy. [Illustration: _From Photographs._ SELECTING THE SNAKES. A TICKLISH OPERATION. THE FEAT ACCOMPLISHED. ANOTHER VIEW OF THE FINAL PHASE. ] We have published several photographs of religious mendicants in India, showing the extraordinary penances they inflict upon themselves to gain merit--and incidentally the alms of the faithful--but none more striking than that here reproduced, which shows a fakir at Jubbulpore seated on a couch of sharp-pointed nails. Here, with eyes closed, wrapped in profound meditation, he sits all day long, apparently oblivious to the pricking of the spikes. There is no deception about the business; the nails are quite sharp, but probably long usage has hardened the fakir's epidermis to such an extent that the discomfort is hardly felt. [Illustration: AN INDIAN FAKIR SITTING ON A COUCH OF SHARP-POINTED NAILS. _From a photo. by H. Hands._ ] Twenty years ago, when the villagers living on the borders of Reigate Heath, Surrey, had no place of worship nearer than the parish church, a service was held in a schoolroom close by, and was so well attended that the authorities looked around for a suitable permanent building. The erection of a church was out of the question, but there stood on the Heath the remains of an old mill, a picturesque feature in a beautiful bit of landscape. Inspection showed that once the rats were got rid of a comparatively small outlay would furnish and render the mill fit for public worship, and soon it was opened as the Chapel of the Holy Cross. The circular brick walls of this odd chapel are mostly ivy-clad, and as the entrance is reached the vestry is seen on the left. Originally it is reputed to have been a carpenter's shed, and, except that a few pegs and chairs have been added, its primitive state is well preserved. The interior of the chapel arouses interest. Four buttresses, four feet thick by six feet in height, serve as rests for two massive beams, which cross each other in the centre and support an upright shaft, cracked with age and strongly bound with iron bands. The roof slopes down from the vertex of the shaft to the circular wall, and consequently the building, though no more than thirty feet in diameter, is of considerable loftiness. The buttresses make four natural alcoves. The entrance door stands in one, and immediately opposite is the altar; the harmonium is placed in a third, and the bell-ringer sits close beside it and rings his bell; the fourth is occupied by the congregation.