• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Cover
 Christmas Angels
 The Last Flower of the Year
 The Elves' gift
 The transformed stockings
 What might have been expected
 The little girl who wouldn't eat...
 Pete
 How Meg changed her mind
 Christmas in Spain
 Acting charade -- 'Silent'
 A new regulation
 A Garret adventure
 Is the world round?
 The hidden rill
 The story of the Jolly Harper man...
 Isn't it so?
 What the christ-child brought
 The princes in the tower
 The boy who worked
 La boule de neige de Jean...
 Fast friends
 A card from the editor of 'Our...
 Nimpo's troubles
 Being a boy
 Japanese games
 The bee and the butterfly
 Bertie
 Half a loaf is better than...
 New toys and games for childre...
 Jackin the pulpit
 Books for boys and girls
 The riddle box
 Engraving
 Back Cover
 Spine






Title: St. Nicholas
ALL VOLUMES CITATION PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00004
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas
Uniform Title: St. Nicholas (New York, N.Y.)
Alternate Title: Saint Nicholas
Physical Description: 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Publisher: Scribner
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: -c1943
Frequency: monthly
regular
 Subjects
Subject: Children's literature -- Periodicals   ( lcsh )
Genre: periodical   ( marcgt )
 Notes
Dates or Sequential Designation: -v. 67, no. 4 (Feb. 1940) ; v. 70, no. 1 (Mar. 1943)-v. 70, no. 4 (June 1943).
Dates or Sequential Designation: Began with: Vol. 1, no. 1, Nov. 1873.
Numbering Peculiarities: Suspended Mar. 1940-Feb. 1943; vols. 68-69 omitted.
Issuing Body: Published by: Century, Aug. 1881- ; by Educational Pub. Corp. -1940; by St. Nicholas Magazine, 1943.
General Note: Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
General Note: Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00065513
Volume ID: VID00004
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: oclc - 01764817
lccn - 04012675
 Related Items
Preceded by: Our young folks
Preceded by: Children's hour (Philadelphia, Penn.)
Preceded by: Little corporal
Preceded by: Schoolday magazine
Preceded by: Wide awake

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front cover 1
    Front Cover
        Front cover 2
    Christmas Angels
        Page 105
        Page 106
    The Last Flower of the Year
        Page 107
    The Elves' gift
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
    The transformed stockings
        Page 111
    What might have been expected
        Page 112
        Tony strikes out
            Page 112
            Page 113
        Aunt Matilda's Christmas
            Page 114
            Page 115
            Page 116
    The little girl who wouldn't eat crusts
        Page 117
    Pete
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
    How Meg changed her mind
        Page 121
    Christmas in Spain
        Page 122
        Page 123
    Acting charade -- 'Silent'
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
    A new regulation
        Page 128
    A Garret adventure
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
    Is the world round?
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
    The hidden rill
        Page 136
    The story of the Jolly Harper man and his good fortune
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
    Isn't it so?
        Page 140
    What the christ-child brought
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
    The princes in the tower
        Page 146
    The boy who worked
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
    La boule de neige de Jean Martin
        Page 151
        Page 152
    Fast friends
        Page 153
        A yound contributor
            Page 153
            Page 154
        Taking the packet boat
            Page 155
            Page 156
        The 'Other boy'
            Page 157
            Page 158
        The journey and an adventure
            Page 159
    A card from the editor of 'Our young folks'
        Page 160
    Nimpo's troubles
        Page 161
        Going out to board
            Page 161
            Page 162
        Mrs. Primkins
            Page 163
            Page 164
    Being a boy
        Page 165
        Page 166
    Japanese games
        Page 167
    The bee and the butterfly
        Page 168
    Bertie
        Page 169
    Half a loaf is better than no bread
        Page 170
    New toys and games for children
        Page 170
        Page 171
    Jackin the pulpit
        Page 172
        Page 173
    Books for boys and girls
        Page 174
    The riddle box
        Page 175
        Page 176
    Engraving
        Page 177
    Back Cover
        Back cover 1
        Back cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
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ST. NICHOLAS.



VOL. I. JANUARY, 1874. No. 3.


CHRISTMAS ANGELS.

BY DONALD G. MITCHELL.

I FEEL like a savage-indeed I do; like Captain
Kidd with his knife whetted sharp, as he sailed,
as he sailed," and the Christmas duns are coming i
in (you '11 know what duns are soon enough without
looking in your dictionaries).
And A-- has promised to pay, and does n't
pay; and B- has promised to pay, and does n't
pay. And Sligo & Co., who had a few hundred
dollars of ours-laid up for a wet day-have sus- 'C 1/.
pended: (you'11 know what that word means too, if '
you live long enough).
Yet all the while, just beside me, where I am
writing, I can see a white winged Christmas angel,
with a star upon her forehead and hand uplifted,
is warbling a Christmas carol:--

"And all the angels in heaven do sing,
On Christmas day, on Christmas day;
And all the angels in heaven do sing,
On Christmas day in the morning."

"Rat-tat-tat." Somebody has come up to i
the door with his small bill; and would Mr. -
" be so kind as to give a cheque ? "

--"And all the souls on earth do sing, '
On Christmas day, on Christmas day;
And all the souls on earth do sing,


Shall the angels carry the day? or, shall Cap- ''-
On Christmas day in the morning."

tain Kidd? ''' ,.' .
There is a little gush of song from below, where -
piping voices are putting themselves in trim for a "I ., ,' .
Christmas anthem, and it floats up the stairs and -
fills the upper hall, and blends softly and gently -
with other voices that I seem to hear above the
house-tops, carrying along through the wintry \ -'
VOL. I.-7.






IO6 CIIRISTMAS ANGELS. [JANUARY.


skies the first great Christmas carol of Peace and Gertrude or Miss Alice are all agape with wonder-
good-will to men." ment.
That was what the shepherds heard, you know, But listen for a moment.
as they lay out of doors at night on the hillside Do you know of any little private drawer, where
somewhere in Judea. And I suppose the angels you young people may not venture; and have you
that sang it have been singing it ever since, on ever caught sight in it of a tiny pair of half-worn
every Christmas night (eighteen hundred and morocco shoes, which you know can fit no one-no
seventy-three of them)-if we could only hear it. one of the living-and have you ever caught chance
The singing master's rules can't make you hear it; sight of a certain loved figure bowed down over that
nor what he calls an ear for music. There are hard- private drawer; and hurrying away, as if you had
handed men. and tender-hearted women whom I no right there, have you glanced furtively afterward
know, who couldn't tell Old Hundred from the at your mother's face to see if there were signs of
last new opera tune-and yet they have so taken tears?
up the burden of that old, first carol of the Christ- Yes, there are Christmas angels, who are not
mas angels into their ears and heads and hearts, half grown; and their childish voices in the sweet
that they go echoing it in every step of their march Christmas tunes, change the plaint of a mother into
through life. carols of joy.
The angels may talk in songs, perhaps; who I think there are old Christmas angels too, what-
knows? But we don't. There's a great deal of ever the painters may say.
Christmas music that does n't get sung, nor yet At this, Miss Gertrude rolls her eyes in wonder-
tripped off from the keys of Miss Gertrude's piano. ment again.
What sort of music, then ? says Miss Gertrude, Have n't you or I had, some day, a darling old
in a maze. grandmother, who wore spectacles, perhaps, but
Well, there is the click of needles that goes to who had a peach bloom upon her cheek, that told
the knitting of some warm worsted muffler for of great beauty in her younger days; not over tall,
grandmamma; there is the earnest Thank ye but with a walk that was almost stately for its dig-
ma'am" from the old crone in the edge of the wood, nity ? Then, she had such far-seeing, kindly eyes,
who gets a fat fowl for her dinner that one day in we could never escape them; we never wanted to
the year; there is the stifled whispering of a crew escape them; they had such a sweet, inviting fond-
of little voices, which covers-or tries to cover- ness in them. She did not make her home with
some grand scheme of a gift that is to lie all re-. us; otherwise, I think we should have outgrown a
vealed and dazzling on mamma's plate on Christ- little awe that always came over us in her presence.
mas morning; there are the thousand kind words Yet it was an awe that was full of tenderness.
of greeting and cheer drifting about in all the mail- Jeanette, who was the clever one among us, said
bags of Christmas time, making the leather she didn't quite know whether she felt most fear or
pouches fuller of music than even the Scotch bag- love of grandmamma: but she could never be in the
pipes. For once, too, there is music in the school- room with her a half hour, and hear her talk as she
master's voice as he says, "The boys and girls was used to talk, without running up and throwing
may have a holiday her arms around her neck in such a headlong way
Then there are the stealthy footfalls of that dear, as put all the old lady's ruffles (for which she had a
tender-hearted mistress of the household as she vanity) in danger.
gropes her way, past midnight, from chamber to I think Jeanette was the grandmother's favorite.
chamber, bearing gifts heaped up and running But when the Christmas box came-as it was
over for the little slumberers-not waking these; sure to come-bless me, there was no favoritism
but surely those quiet, stealthy, kindly footfalls of there.
hers shall waken echoes for the blithest carols that Dick had his ball-we knew what fingers had
any of the angels can sing. sewed up its morocco cover; Fred has his top, and
For one, I don't believe that all the angels who a host of nick-nacks besides; and there were tid-
hover near the earth at Christmas time are grown- bits of all sorts, and candies running over; but for
up angels, though the painters may make them so. each child, whatever that child's fancy would most
I think there are little half-formed, piping voices have coveted, and with every gift a line of writing
that make themselves heard from out all the in that dear hand-overlooked then, in that
Christmas carolings, more clearly and distinctly, for Christmas gale of frolic, but dearly remembered
many a listening ear, than if they were full-grown now.
voices. Does anybody who ever had such a grandmamma
I dare say you do not know why I should say doubt that she is among the Christmas angels?
this, or what I mean by it. I can fancy that Miss (I must own to you, my youngsters, that I had







1874.] THE LAST FLOWER OF THE YEAR. 107

quite forgotten the Captain and his sharp knife, their lives with kindly deeds of cheer and of good-
but will tell you more of him some day.) will-whether young or old, living or dying-in
Meantime, I am sure that on these-of whom we Christmas times, and in all times, a great light
have been talking-and such as these, brightening shall shine forever more.











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Beneath deep fringes, blue and shy; On falling leaf and frosty night-
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To meet the welcome of the sun. While dreary winds around her blew.
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The gentian, her long lashes through, The gentian said, "The world is cold;









Looked up into the sky so blue, Yet one clear glimpse of heaven I hold.
And felt at home-the color, other The sun's last thought is mine to keep
The good God gave herself to wear. Enough-now let me go to sleep."
The lyme h th a.,slrry
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The gentian hid a thoughtful eye The gentian shut her eyelids tight
Beneath deep fringes, blue and shy; On falling leaf and frosty night;
Only by warmest noon-beams won, And close her azure mantle drew,
To meet the welcome of the sun. While dreary winds around her blew.
The gentian, her long lashes through, The gentian said, "The world is cold;
Looked up into the sky so blue, Yet one clear glimpse of heaven I hold.
And felt at home-the color, there, The sun's last thought is mine to keep;
The good God gave herself to wear. Enough-now let me go to sleep."







IOS THE ELVES' GIFT. [JANUARY.

































THE MAN WHO SAT THE OLD YEAR OUT.








THE ELVES' GIFT.
The Veritable Narrative of Thomas Graspen.

BY ARTHUR CROSBY.

IT was very cold, so cold that all about the old the children could play on the top of it, without
farm house that day-though the sun had been any chance of breaking through. Of course, this
shining his brightest-the icicles had hung motion- was grand fun. They were muffled up in scarfs,
less, except, perhaps, in one snug little corner, and tippets, and leggins, until they looked like so
where the leafless wistaria trails over the dining- many laughing worsted balls. How their red
room window, and the rose-bushes in their over- cheeks shone, and their bright eyes sparkled!
coats of straw looked so comfortable and warm. How they rolled, and tumbled, and screamed and
Into that cozy nook the sun always rushed with little Peter (he was just six) actually had to lie on
such an earnest good will, and lingered there so his back and kick his fat legs in the air, he felt so
cheerily, that the coldest-hearted icicle in the world good.
could hardly hold out against him. But on that But for Tom Graspen, this was all too childish.
day, before Christmas, I am not sure but even Why? Tom was a big boy. He was eleven last
there the icicles were unyielding, it was so bitter August, and he was not going to play on the snow
cold. There had been a thaw the previous day, but with the children, while the boys were all going
now the deep snow was crusted over so firmly that skating on the mill-pond-not he.







38741. THE ELVES' GIFT. 109


The plan that afternoon, was to stay late, for dew-drops; while in his hand he carried for a
there would be a splendid moon. sceptre a sweet-briar thorn.
What sport they had as they made the hard ice Tom gazed at him in utter bewilderment, and
ring beneath their steel-clad feet! To be sure, Tom rubbed his eyes and thought it must be a dream;
wasn't quite satisfied; he liked the fine skating but there the little fellow stood, with a merry
well enough, but he seemed to want summer wea- twinkle in his eye, and a right cheer) ring in his
their with it, and that, of course, was quite out of clear, shrill voice, as he beckoned to Tom and sang:
the question; then his skates, excellent as they
were, were not of the tip-top, very best and latest 0 Tommy! 0 Tommy I don't stand there and shake;
make, and that troubled him. However, all the But follow me quick and your fortune you 11 make;
Of all Christmas fairies I 'im chief and I 'in king.
other boys were in such glee it did n't make much hs s I cf an 'in king.
And 'tis I and my elfins the church bells whio ring.
matter. They raced, they played Cross the Line," We climb the steep steeple with laughter and song,
and "Fox and Geese until the blood fairly leaped And merrily spring on the ponderous gong;
through their young veins. And then when the sun Then with a heave-ho' the huge clapper we raise,
had set and the moonlight came, it was like a dream And thus gleefully hail the gladdest of days.
But my moonbeam is waiting; for, Tom, you must know,
of fairy-land to glide over the smooth, gleaming That when king-fairies ride, on moonbeams they go.
ice. So Tom, you young rascal, don'tstand there and shake,
It was glorious The very air was full of Christ- But follow me quick and your fortune you '11 make."
mas gladness. But all things must end; and at last
the skaters knew their time was up; and so, reluct- Beckoning again, the elfin king started off
antly taking off their skates, they set out for through the woods, and Tom, who by this time
home. had almost recovered from his fright, followed after
For a little way up the lane they all kept together, as fast as he could. Several times he lost sight of
but when they reached the main road, Will, and his little majesty, and was about to turn back, but
Harry and Bob, and the rest, went in one direction, each time he would hear the shrill voice just ahead
while our friend Tom had about a mile of lonely of him calling, "Tom, Tom," and then his royal
road, right through the woods, to walk, all by highness would come shimmering back, and tell
himself. To tell the truth, he did n't like it much. him to hurry along. At length they reached a lit-
He was not a bit afraid! Oh, no, indeed-but tie hollow under a couple of old oak trees, where
then, you know, he would just a little rather have the snow had drifted two or three feet deep.
had hold of his father's hand. However, he slung Wait a minute," said the elf, and disappeared.
his skates over his shoulder, and shoved his hands Our hero waited and waited, when, just as he was
very deep into his overcoat pockets, and began to about to give it all up and go home, he saw king
whistle very loud, and walk just as fast as his tired fairy's dew-drop crown appear out of a hole in the
legs would let him, snow-crust that he had not before noticed. "Come
He had gone perhaps half of the way home, now," said the tiny monarch, and see the fairies'
when suddenly he thought he heard some one call- Christmas tree." So Tom got down on his hands
ing, Tom, Tom !" and knees and looked into the hole, and oh what
I tell you he stopped short, and his heart was a magnificent sight was before his eyes A broad
right up in his throat, as he looked about him in flight of stairs, cut in the soft snow, led down into
every direction. But as he could not see any one, a large square hall with arched corridors on every
he made up his mind that it must have been the side. At the side opposite the stairway the king
ice cracking in the brook, or some belated squirrel sat on his throne, which was beautifully carved, in
taking a lonely supper in the trees. So he started fantastic shapes, from a single huge icicle; while a
off again, whistling louder than ever. hundred little fellows, even smaller than their lord,
Tom, Tom," called the same voice. And this danced gaily on the moss-covered floor, while, with
time it was so distinct and so near that he thought shrill piping voices they sang a weird melody.
some one must be speaking to him from the ground. Right in the centre stood a miniature hemlock tree,
He looked down, and there on the white snow, at lighted, Tom knew not how, but so brilliantly that
his feet, clearly seen in the soft moonlight, was a the diamonds, and rubies, and precious stones of
little man not more than six inches high, with a all sorts with which the tree was loaded, glistened
long white beard that reached to his knees, till Tom's eyes were fairly dazzled. Presently the
He was dressed in a beautiful flowing robe, made king waived his briar-thorn sceptre, and as soon as
all of Autumn leaves, and he had on his feet the silence was restored, addressed his subjects:-
cunningest little boots, cut out of hickory nuts, and Most mighty and magnanimous people," he said,
a jaunty cap of snow-bird's feathers, and on the cap children of the moonlight, offspring of the snow-
a tinycrown that glistened and sparkled with frozen flake On this our Christmas eve, I have, accord-






II0 THE ELIVES' GIFT. [JANUARY,


ing to our time-honored custom, brought here one to please him, he began to look sour and grumble,
little boy to share our sports and to receive a token Is that all ? The words had hardly passed his
of the fairies' kindness. Make haste and bear aloft lips when the cord of his new sled slipped from his
the appointed gift." hands; the sled grew small in a twinkling, and he
Upon this about twenty of them, after bowing low had barely time to see the fairies hurrying back
before the throne, skipped off down one of the side with it into the palace of snow, when a great thick
corridors, but immediately returned, drawing after cloud came over the moon, and in the darkness he
them a most beautiful hand sled-all carved and began to feel a multitude of little pinches and
painted with exquisite taste, but no larger than an pricks in feet and legs, as if a whole bee-hive had




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NOW THE LITTLE FELLOWS HAD TO TUG AND PULL.

oyster shell; and as they came merrily on, with broken loose, and a wasp or two besides, while a
many a jest and laugh, the others clapped their chorus of angry voices sang:
hands and shouted joyously from very gladness and
kindness of heart. Pinch him, and twitch him, and prick him with pins,
TWhen they had climbed the stairs and passed And jump on his toes and hammer his shins.
wh _rTor .wa Send hi.m home to his mother all tired and sore.
through the entrance out to where Tom was, ,
o For Tom Graspen to-niglit has been asking for more.
now standing, the sled began suddenly to grow, These punishing pinches he '11 never forget,
and grow, until in a few moments, it was quite But he thankful hereafter for what he can get."
large enough for any boy to use. And now the little
fellows had to tug and pull until they were red in How Tom reached home and got into his warm
the face, but they only seemed to enjoy it the more; bed he hardly knew himself, but he woke up al-
and struggling manfully on, placed the golden cord most another boy on the bright Christmas morning.
in Tom's hand with a right cheery Merry Christ- Everything charmed him. His presents were "just
mas." the thing," and his best friends were astonished to
Now, Tom was, in most respects, an unusually see him so thoroughly satisfied. In short, ever
good boy; but, as you have seen, he had one very afterwards, when he felt inclined to grumble, the
serious fault: he was never satisfied with any thing thought of the fairy sled and those pricks and.
that was given to him, but always wanted "some- pinches would change his sour looks into a smile of
thing mowe." And so, now, instead of being grate- thankfulness.
ful to the kind little elves, who had taken such pains As for the elves, when their king saw how disap-
ful to the kind little elves, who had taken such pains As for the elves, when their king saw how disap-






1874. THE TRANSFORMED STOCKINGS. II

pointed they were at Tom's bad -
behavior, he gave them permis-'- --
sion to disguise themselves as little
boys, and take their pockets full -s
of gold to a poor cottager and his
wife who lived on the edge of the .
great forest.
"Great Land!" cried the de- *'




mas! And her goodman thought .'. ,
he heard far-away voices singing:


IHi and a-ho, it is well to go 4' .. vs "'
With welcome gifts ~ ..
To the poor and low- -
Ly-ah-ly-ah! -






THE TRANSFORMED STOCKINGS.
(A Poem in ot ofarts, with ilhlstrations by theipoet.)

BY MASTER SAM QUIMBY.










CHRISTMAS EVE. CHRISTMAS MORNING.
S PART _. I P i I.i ,







LITTLE children in their bed, WHEN the Christmas morning comes,
Both their stockings on the wall; Both the children bounce from bed:
Not a thought disturbs their dreams- "Wh ee, ew!"
That is, if they dream at all. That was all the children said.






112 WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED. [JANUARY,




WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED.

BY FRANK R. STOCKTON.

CHAPTER VI. surprising, considering the amount of walking and
TONY STRIKES OUT. creeping that he had done that day and night.
When he awoke it was daylight. He sprang to
THERE was no doubt about it; something was his feet and found he was very stiff in the legs, but
moving. There was a rise in the ground a short that did not prevent him from running this way and
distance in front of the turkey-blind, and a little that to try and find some place in the woods with
patch of dark sky was visible between the trees, which he was familiar. Before long he heard what
Across this bit of sky something dark was slowly he thought was something splashing in water, and,
passing, making his way towards the sound, he pushed out
"Ye kin see 'most anything in the darkest on the bank of Crooked Creek.
night," whispered Tony, "ef ye kin only git the The creek was quite wide at this point, and, out
sky behind it. But that's no turkey." near the middle of it, he saw Tony's head. The
"What do you think it is?" said Harry, softly, turkey-hunter was swimming hand-over-hand,
"It's big enough for a turkey." "dog-fashion," for the shore. Behind him was a
"Too big,", said Tony. "Let's git after it. boat, upside down, which seemed just on the point
You slip along the path, and I'll go round ahead of sinking out of sight.
of it. Feel yer way, and do n't make no noise if Hel-low, there cried Harry; what's the
ye run agin anything. And mind this"--and matter, Tony?"
here Tony spoke in one of the most impressive of Tony never answered a word, but spluttered and
whispers-"do n't you fire till yer deadcertain what puffed, and struck out slowly but vigorously for the
it is." bank.
With this Tony slipped away into the darkness, "Wait a minute," cried Harry, wildly excited,
and Harry, grasping his gun, set out to feel his I'll reach you a pole."
way. He felt his way along the path for a short But Tony did not wait, and Harry could find no
time, and then he felt his way out of it. Then he pole. When he turned around from his hurried
crept into a low, soft place, full of ferns, and out of search among the bushes, the turkey-hunter had
that he carefully felt his way into abig bush, where found bottom, and was standing with his head out
he knocked off his hat. When he found his hat, of water. But the bottom was soft and muddy, and
which took him some time, he gradually worked he flopped about dolefully when he attempted to
himself out into a place where the woods were little walk to the bank. Harry reached his gun out to-
more open, and there he caught another glimpse wards him, but Tony, with a quick jerk of his arm,
of the sky just at the top of the ridge. There was motioned it away.
something dark against the sky, and Harry watched I'd rather be drowned than shot," he splut-
it for a long time. At last, as it did not move at tered. "I do n't want no gun-muzzles pointed at me.
all, he came to the conclusion that it must be a Take a hold of that little tree, and then reach me
bush, and he was entirely correct. For an hour your other hand."
or two he quietly crept among the trees, hoping Harry seized a young tree that grew on the very
he would either find the thing that was moving or edge of the bank,.and as soon as Tony managed to
get back to the turkey-blind. Several times some- flop himself near enough, Harry leaned over and
thing that he was sure was an "old har," as hares are took hold of his outstretched hand and gave him a
often called in Virginia, rushed out of the hushes jerk forward with all his strength. Over went
near him; and once he heard a quick rustling Tony, splash on his face in the water, and Harry
among the dead leaves that sounded as if it were came very near going in head-foremost on top of
made by a black snake, but it might as well have him. But he recovered himself, and, not having
been a Chinese pagoda on wheels, for all he could loosed his grip of Tony's hand, he succeeded, with
see of it. At last he became very tired, and sat a mighty effort, in dragging the turkey-hunter's
down to rest with his back against a big tree. head out of the water; and, after a desperate strug-
There he soon began to nod, and, without the gle with the mud, Tony managed to get on his feet
slightest intention of doing anything of the kind, he again.
went to sleep, and slept just as soundly as if he had I do n't know," said he, blowing the water out
been in his bed at home. And this was not at all of his mouth and shaking his dripping head, "but






112 WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED. [JANUARY,




WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED.

BY FRANK R. STOCKTON.

CHAPTER VI. surprising, considering the amount of walking and
TONY STRIKES OUT. creeping that he had done that day and night.
When he awoke it was daylight. He sprang to
THERE was no doubt about it; something was his feet and found he was very stiff in the legs, but
moving. There was a rise in the ground a short that did not prevent him from running this way and
distance in front of the turkey-blind, and a little that to try and find some place in the woods with
patch of dark sky was visible between the trees, which he was familiar. Before long he heard what
Across this bit of sky something dark was slowly he thought was something splashing in water, and,
passing, making his way towards the sound, he pushed out
"Ye kin see 'most anything in the darkest on the bank of Crooked Creek.
night," whispered Tony, "ef ye kin only git the The creek was quite wide at this point, and, out
sky behind it. But that's no turkey." near the middle of it, he saw Tony's head. The
"What do you think it is?" said Harry, softly, turkey-hunter was swimming hand-over-hand,
"It's big enough for a turkey." "dog-fashion," for the shore. Behind him was a
"Too big,", said Tony. "Let's git after it. boat, upside down, which seemed just on the point
You slip along the path, and I'll go round ahead of sinking out of sight.
of it. Feel yer way, and do n't make no noise if Hel-low, there cried Harry; what's the
ye run agin anything. And mind this"--and matter, Tony?"
here Tony spoke in one of the most impressive of Tony never answered a word, but spluttered and
whispers-"do n't you fire till yer deadcertain what puffed, and struck out slowly but vigorously for the
it is." bank.
With this Tony slipped away into the darkness, "Wait a minute," cried Harry, wildly excited,
and Harry, grasping his gun, set out to feel his I'll reach you a pole."
way. He felt his way along the path for a short But Tony did not wait, and Harry could find no
time, and then he felt his way out of it. Then he pole. When he turned around from his hurried
crept into a low, soft place, full of ferns, and out of search among the bushes, the turkey-hunter had
that he carefully felt his way into abig bush, where found bottom, and was standing with his head out
he knocked off his hat. When he found his hat, of water. But the bottom was soft and muddy, and
which took him some time, he gradually worked he flopped about dolefully when he attempted to
himself out into a place where the woods were little walk to the bank. Harry reached his gun out to-
more open, and there he caught another glimpse wards him, but Tony, with a quick jerk of his arm,
of the sky just at the top of the ridge. There was motioned it away.
something dark against the sky, and Harry watched I'd rather be drowned than shot," he splut-
it for a long time. At last, as it did not move at tered. "I do n't want no gun-muzzles pointed at me.
all, he came to the conclusion that it must be a Take a hold of that little tree, and then reach me
bush, and he was entirely correct. For an hour your other hand."
or two he quietly crept among the trees, hoping Harry seized a young tree that grew on the very
he would either find the thing that was moving or edge of the bank,.and as soon as Tony managed to
get back to the turkey-blind. Several times some- flop himself near enough, Harry leaned over and
thing that he was sure was an "old har," as hares are took hold of his outstretched hand and gave him a
often called in Virginia, rushed out of the hushes jerk forward with all his strength. Over went
near him; and once he heard a quick rustling Tony, splash on his face in the water, and Harry
among the dead leaves that sounded as if it were came very near going in head-foremost on top of
made by a black snake, but it might as well have him. But he recovered himself, and, not having
been a Chinese pagoda on wheels, for all he could loosed his grip of Tony's hand, he succeeded, with
see of it. At last he became very tired, and sat a mighty effort, in dragging the turkey-hunter's
down to rest with his back against a big tree. head out of the water; and, after a desperate strug-
There he soon began to nod, and, without the gle with the mud, Tony managed to get on his feet
slightest intention of doing anything of the kind, he again.
went to sleep, and slept just as soundly as if he had I do n't know," said he, blowing the water out
been in his bed at home. And this was not at all of his mouth and shaking his dripping head, "but






1874.1 WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED. III

what I'd 'most as lieve be shot as ducked that way. creek till I got opposite John Walker's cabin,
Don't you jerk so hard again. Hold steady and where it's narrow, and there's a big tree a-lyin'
let me pull." across-"
Harry took a still firmer grasp of the tree and Still following that thing?" interrupted Harry.
" held steady," while Tony gradually worked his Yes," said Tony; an' then I got over on the
feet through the sticky mud until he reached the tree and kep' down the creek-"
bank, and then he laboriously clambered on shore. Still following? asked Harry.
How did it happen ? said Harry: How did Yes; and I got a long ways down, and had one
you get in the water? bad tumble, too, in a dirty little gulley; and it was
Boat upsot," said Tony, seating himself, all pretty nigh day when I turned to come back. An'
dripping with water and mud, upon the bank. then when I got up here I thought I would look
Why, you came near being drowned," said fur John Walker's boat-fur I knew he kept it tied
Harry, anxiously. up somewhere down this way-and save myself all
"No I didn't," answered Tony, pulling a big that walk. 1 found the ole boat-"
-- .-- -~ --- .. .. ... *- .--- ... 1', , -7 -- .-- ,- h.

























THE TURKEY-HUNTER IN TROUBLE.
bunch of weeds and rubbing his legs with them. "And how did it upset?" said Harry.
" I kin swim well enough, but a fellar has a rough Humph !" said Tony; easy enough. I had n't
time in the water with big boots on and his pockets nuthin to row with but a bit o' pole, and I got a
full o' buck-shot." sorter cross a-gettin' along so slow, and so I stood
"Couldn't you empty the shot out?" asked up and gin a big push, and one foot slipped an'
Harry. over she went."
--
























And lose it all? asked Tony, with an aggriev- And in you went!" said Harry.
ed expression upon his watery face. "Yes-in I went. I don't see what ever put
"But how did it happen?" Harry earnestly in- John Walker up to akin' sich a boat as that. It's
quired: What were you doing in the boat ? jist the meanest, lopsidedest, low-borndedst boat I
Tony did not immediately answer. He rubbed ever did see."
at his legs, and then he tried to wipe his face with "I don't wonder you think so," said Harry,
his wet coat-sleeve, but finding that only made laughing; "but if I were you, I'd go home as
matters worse, he accepted Harry's offer of his soon as I could, and get some dry clothes."
handkerchief, and soon got his countenance into That's so," said Tony, rising; these feel like
--=------=_ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ -~=I--- -_........ .... -!,,.. , .. -,_ ---_





























talking order. the inside of an eel-skin."
"Why, you see," said he, "I kept on up the Oh, Tony !" said Harry, as they walked along
= -- -- m -_ _.- ._ -- _.




















"Why, you See,") said he, L'I kept on up the ' Oh, Tony said Harry, as they walked along







114 WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED. JANUARYY,

up the creek, did you find out what that thing You don't really mean he was after me last
was ?" night with a gun exclaimed Captain Cascby.
"Yes, I did," answered Tony. He truly was," said Tony; he was a-trackin'
"And what was it ?" you his Sunday best. It was bad for you that it
It was Captain Caseby." was so dark that he couldn't see what you was,
Captain Caseby? cried Harry. but it might have been worse for ye if it hadn't
Yes; jist him, and nuthin else. It was his been so dark that he could n't find ye at all."
head we seen agin the sky, as he was a-walkin' on "I 'm glad I did n't know it," said the Captain,
the other side of that little ridge." earnestly; "thoroughly and completely glad I
"Captain Caseby!" again ejaculated Harry in didn't know it. I should have yelled all the skin
his amazement, off my throat, if I 'd have known he was after me
Yes, sir! said Tony; an' I'm glad I found with a gun."
it out before I crossed the creek, for my gun was n't After Harry had been home an hour or two,
no further use, an' it was only in my way, so I left and Kate had somewhat recovered from her trans-
it in the bushes up here. Ef it had n't been for ports of joy, and everybody in the village had
that, the ole rifle would ha' been at the bottom of heard all about everything that had happened, and
the creek." Captain Caseby had declared, in the bosom of his
But what was Captain Caseby doing here in family, that he'd never go out into the woods again
the woods at night?" asked Harry. at night without keeping up a steady "holler,"
Dunno," said Tony; I jist follered him till I Harry remembered that he had left his sumac bag
made sure he was n't a-huntin' for my turkey-blind, somewhere in the woods. Hard work for a whole
and then I let him go'long. His business wasn't day and a night, and nothing to show for it!
no consarn o' mine." Rather a poor prospect for Aunt Matilda.
When Tony and Harry had nearly reached the
village, who should they meet, at a cross-road in CHAPTER VII.
the woods, but Mr. Loudon and Captain Caseby!
Ho, ho cried the Captain, "where on earth AUNT MATILDA'S CHRISTMAS,
have you been? Here I've been a-hunting you WHEN Harry and Kate held council that after-
all night." noon, their affairs looked a little discouraging.
"You have, have you?" said Tony, with a Kate's sumac was weighed and it was only seven
chuckle; "and Harry and I've been a-huntin' you pounds! Seven whole cents, if they took it out in
all night, too." trade, or five and a quarter cents, as Kate calcu-
Everybody now began to talk at once. Harry's lated, if they took cash. A woman as large as
father was so delighted to find his boy again that Aunt Matilda could not be supported on that kind
he did not care to explain anything, and he and of an income, it was plain enough.
Harry walked off together. But our brave boy and girl were not discouraged.
But Captain Caseby told Tony all about it. How Harry went after his bag the next day, and found it
he, Mr. Loudon and old Mr. Wagner had set out with about ten pounds of leaves in it. Then, for a
to look for Harry; how Mr. Wagner soon became week or two, he and his sister worked hard and
so tired that he had to give up, and go home, and sometimes gathered as much as twenty-five pounds
how Mr. Loudon had gone through the woods to of leaves in a day. But they had their bad days,
the north, while he kept down by the creek, search- when there was a great deal of walking and very
ing on both sides of the stream, and how they had little picking.
both walked, and walked, and walked all night, And then, in due course of time, school began
and had met at last down by the river, and the sumac season was at an end, for the leaves
How did you manage to meet Mr. Loudon ? are not merchantable after they begin to turn red,
asked Tony. although they are then a great deal prettier to
I heard him hollerin," said the Captain. He look at.
hollered pretty near all night, he told me." But when Harry went out early in the morning,
Why didn't you holler? Tony asked, and on Saturdays, and shot hares and partridges,
"Oh, I never exercise my voice in the night and Kate began to sell her chickens, of which she
air," said the Captain. It's against my rules." had twenty-seven (eighteen died natural deaths, or
"Well, you'd better break your rules next time were killed by weasels during the summer), they
you go out in the woods where Harry is," said found that they made more money than they could
the turkey-hunter, or he'll pop you over for have made by sumac gathering.
a turkey or a musk-rat. He's a sharp shot, I kin "It's a good deal for you two to do for that old
tell ye." woman," said Captain Caseby, one day.








,87.J WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED. 115


"But, didn't we promise to do it?" said Miss surrounded the tree and barked as if they expected
Kate, bravely. We'd do twice as much, if there to bark the tree down. One little fuzzy dog, with
were two of her." short legs and hair all over his eyes, actually jumped
It was very fortunate, however, that there were into a low crotch and the boys thought he was going
not two of her. to try to climb the tree. If he had ever reached
Sometimes they had extraordinary luck. Early the cat he would have been very sorry he hadn't
one November morning Harry was out in the stayed at home, for she was a good deal bigger
woods and caught sight of a fat wild turkey. than he was. Harry and his friends endeavored to
Bang !-one dollar. drive the dogs away from the tree, but it was of no
That was enough to keep Aunt Matilda for a week. use. Even kicks and blows only made them bark
At least it ought to have kept her. But there the more. Directly out rushed Mr. Truly Matthews,
was something wrong somewhere. Every week it as angry as he could be. He shouted and scolded
cost more and more to keep the old colored woman at the boys for setting their dogs on his cat, and
in what Harry called eating material." then he kicked the dogs out of his yard in less time
Her appetite must be increasing," said Harry; than you could count seventy-two. He was very
" she's eaten two pecks of meal this week." angry, indeed, and talked about the shocking con-
I do n't believe it," said Kate; she could n't duct of the boys to everybody in the village. He
do it. I believe she has company." would listen to no explanations or excuses.
And this turned out to be true. Harry was extremely sorry that Mr. Matthews
On inquiry they found that Uncle Braddock was was so incensed against him, especially as he knew
in the habit of taking his meals with Aunt Matilda, there was no cause for it, and he was talking about
sometimes three times a day. Now, Uncle Brad- it to Kate one day when she exclaimed:
dock had a home of his own where he could get his "I'll tell you what will be sure to pacific Mr.
meals if he chose to go after them, and Harry re- Matthews, Harry. He has a lot of little pigs that
monstrated with him on his conduct, he wants to sell. Just you go and buy one of them
"Why, ye see, M/ah'sr Harry," said the old man, and see if he isn't as good-natured as ever, when
"she's so drefful lonesome down dar all by she- he sees your money."
self, and sometimes it's a-rainin' an' a long way fur Harry took the advice. He had a couple of
me to go home and git me wrapper all wet jist fur dollars, and with them he bought a little pig, the
one little meal o' wittles. And when I see what smallest of the lot; and Mr. Matthews, who was
you all is a-doin' fur her, I feels dat I oughter try very much afraid he could not find purchasers for
and do something' fur her, too, as long as I kin; an' all his pigs, was as completely pacified as Kate
I can't expect to go about much longer, Mah'sr thought he would be.
Harry, de ole wrapper's pretty nigh gin out." Harry took his property home, and all through
"I do n't mind your taking your meals there, now the Summer and Fall the little pig ran about the
and then," said Harry; "but I don't want you to yard and the fields and the woods, and ate acorns,
live there. We can't afford it." -and sweet potatoes, and turnips when he could
"All right, Mah'sr Harry," said Uncle Braddock, get a chance to root them up with his funny little
and after that he never came to Aunt Matilda's to twitchy nose,-and grunted and slept in the sun;
meals more than five or six times a week. and about the middle of December he had grown
And now Christmas, always a great holiday with so big that Harry sold him for eleven dollars.
the negroes of the South, was approaching, and Here was quite a capital for Christmas.
Harry and Kate determined to try and give Aunt I can't afford to spend it all on Aunt Matilda,"
Matilda extra good living during Christmas week, said Harry to his mother and Kate, "for I .have
and to let her have company every day if she other things to do with my money. But she's
wanted it. bound to have a good Christmas, and we 'll make
Harry had a pig. He got it in the Spring when her a present besides."
it was very small, and when its little tail was scarcely Kate was delighted with this idea and immedi-
long enough to curl. There was a story about his ately began to suggest all sorts of things for the
getting this pig. present. If Harry chose to buy anything that she
He and some other boys had been out walking, could make up," she would go right to work at it.
and several dogs went along with them. The dogs But Harry could not think of anything that would
chased acat-a beautiful, smooth cat, that belonged suit exactly, and neither could Kate, nor their
to old Mr. Truly Matthews. The cat put off at the mother and' when Mr. Loudon was taken into
top of her speed, which was a good deal better than council, at dinner time, he could suggest nothing
any speed the dogs could show, and darted up a but an army blanket-which suggestion met with
tree right in front of her master's house. The dogs no favor at all.







I16 WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED. [JANUARY,


At last Mr. Loudon advised that they should ask to allow the tree to stand up satisfactorily. This
Aunt Matilda what she would like to have for a was, indeed, an excellent arrangement, for it was
present. better to keep the decoration of the Christmas tree
"There's no better way of suiting her than that," a secret from Aunt Matilda until all was com-
said he. pleted.
So Harry and Kate went down to the old wo- The next day was a holiday, and Harry and Kate
man's cabin that afternoon, after school, and asked went earnestly to work. A hole was dug in the clay
her. floor of the old cabin, and the tree planted firmly
Aunt Matilda didn't hesitate an instant, therein. It was very firm, indeed, for a little col-
Ef you chill'en is really a-goin' to give me a ored boy named Josephine's Bobby climbed nearly
present, there ain't nothing' I'd rather have than a to the topmost branch, without shaking it very
Chrismis tree." much. For four or five days the work of decorating
"A Christmas tree! cried Harry and Kate, the tree went on. Everybody talked about it, a great
both bursting out laughing. many laughed at it, and nearly everybody seemed
"Yes, indeed, chill'en. Ef ye give me anything, inclined to give something to hang upon its branch-
give me a good big fiery Chrismis tree, like you es. Kate brought large box containing the decora-
all had, year 'fore las'." tions of her last Christmas tree, and she and Harry
Two years before, Harry and Kate had had their hung sparkling balls, and golden stars, and silver
last Christmas tree. There were no younger chil- fishes, and red and blue paper angels, and candy
dren, and these two were now considered to have swans, and sugar pears, and glittering things of all
outgrown that method of celebrating Christmas. sorts, shapes, and sizes upon the boughs. Harry
But they had missed their tree last year-missed it had a step-ladder, and Dick Ford and five colored
very much. boys held it firmly while he stood on it and tied on
And now Aunt Matilda wanted one. It was the the ornaments. Very soon the neighbors began
very thing to send in their contributions. Mrs. Loudon gave
Hurrah cried Harry; you shall have it. a stout woolen dress, which was draped over a lower
Hurrah for Aunt Matilda's Christmas tree branch; while Mr. Loudon, who was not to be
"Hurrah !" cried Kate; "won't it be splendid? diverted from his original idea, sent an army
Hurrah blanket, which Kate arranged around the root of
Hurrah said Uncle Braddock, who was just the tree, so as to look as much as possible like gray
coming up to the cabin door, but he did not shout moss. Mr. Darby, who kept the store, sent a large
very loud, and nobody heard him. paper bag of sugar and a small bag of tea, which
Hurrah I wonder what dey's all hurrahin' were carefully hung on lower branches. Miss Jane
about? he said to himself. Davis thought she ought to do something, and she
Harry and Kate had started off to run home with contributed a peck of sweet potatoes, which, each
the news, but Aunt Matilda told the old man all tied to a string, were soon dangling from the
about it, and when he heard there was to be a branches. Then Mr. Truly Matthews, who did
Christmas tree, he was just as glad as anybody. not wish to be behind his neighbors in generosity,
When it became generally known that Aunt sent a shoulder of bacon, which looked quite mag-
Matilda was to have a Christmas tree, the people nificent as it hung about the middle of the tree.
of the neighborhood took a great interest in the Other people sent bars of soap, bags of meal, pack-
matter. John Walker and Dick Ford, two colored ages of smoking tobacco, and flannel petticoats. A
men of the vicinity, volunteered to get the tree. pair of shoes was contributed, and several pairs of
But when they went out into the woods to cut stockings, which latter were filled with apples and
it, eighteen other colored people, big and little, hickory nuts by the considerate Kate. Several of
followed them, some to help and some to give the school children gave sticks of candy; and old
advice. Mrs. Sarah Page, who had nothing else to spare,
A very fine tree was selected. It was a pine, ten brought a jug of molasses, which was suspended
feet high, and when they brought it into Aunt near the top of the tree. Kate did not fancy the
Matilda's cabin, they could not stand it upright, for appearance of the jug, and she wreathed it with
her ceiling was rather low. strings of glittering glass balls; and the shoulder of
When Harry and Kate came home from school bacon she stuck full of red berries and holly leaves.
they were rather surprised to see so big a tree, Harry contributed a bright red handkerchief for
but it was such a fine one that the1 thought they Aunt Matilda's head, and Kate gave a shawl which
must have it. After some consideration it was was yellower than a sunflower, if such a thing could
determined to erect it in a deserted cabin, Aear be. And Harry bore the general expenses of the
by, which had no upper floor, and was high enough extras," which were not trifling.








1874.] PETE. 117

When Christmas eve arrived everybody came to tree. The gold and silver stars glistened, the
see Aunt Matilda's Christmas tree. Kate and many-colored glass balls shone among the green
Harry were inside superintending the final arrange- pine boughs; the shoulder of bacon glowed like a
ments,.and about fifty or sixty persons, colored and bed of flowers, while the jug of molasses hung calm
white, were gathered around the closed door of the and serene surrounded by its glittering beads. A
old cabin. When all was ready Aunt Matilda made universal buzz of approbation and delight arose.
her appearance, supported on either side by Dick No one had ever seen such a Christmas tree before.
Ford and John Walker, while Uncle Braddock, in Every bough and every branch bore something
his many-colored dressing-gown, followed close useful as well as ornamental.
behind. Then the door was opened, and Aunt Ma- As for Aunt Matilda, for several moments she
tilda entered, followed by as many of the crowd as remained speechless with delight. At last she
could get in. It was certainly a scene of splendor. exclaimed:
A wood fire blazed in the fire-place at one end of the "Laws-a-massey! It's wuth while being good
cabin, while dozens of tallow candles lighted up the for ninety-five years to git such a tree at las'."
( T be continued.)



THE LITTLE GIRL WHO WOULD N'T EAT CRUSTS.


THE awfulest times that ever could be
S .. They had with a bad little girl of Dundee,
-- Who never would finish her crust.
S- In vain they besought her,
"' And patiently taught her,
S.. -- And told her she must.

(. Her grandma would coax,
\ _-- .'. And so would the folks,
SAnd tell her the sinning

i But no, she would n't,
S. She could n't, she should n't,
S- She'd have them to know-
-.--'T -. -So they might as well go.

Now what do you think soon came to pass?
This little girl of Dundee, alas!
Who would n't take crusts in the regular way,
Sat down to a feast one summer's day;
And what did the people that little girl give,
But a dish of bread fudding-as sure as I live !



PETE.

BY L. G. M.

I'M Pete. An' I'm a newsboy. This story take it down, and git it printed in ST. NICHOLAS.'
ain't writ by me, coz I can't write. Nor I can't An' he says to begin at the werry beginning w'en
read, so if anything 's took down wrong, it won't I fust seed my young un-a little chap wot I found'
be my fault. arter his father died, an' he had n't nothing' but a
"A gentlemun in one of our offices says to me : fiddle in the world. When I fust goes up to him
'You tell me the story of your young un, an' I '11 in the Park, down to City Hall, and asks him to








1874.] PETE. 117

When Christmas eve arrived everybody came to tree. The gold and silver stars glistened, the
see Aunt Matilda's Christmas tree. Kate and many-colored glass balls shone among the green
Harry were inside superintending the final arrange- pine boughs; the shoulder of bacon glowed like a
ments,.and about fifty or sixty persons, colored and bed of flowers, while the jug of molasses hung calm
white, were gathered around the closed door of the and serene surrounded by its glittering beads. A
old cabin. When all was ready Aunt Matilda made universal buzz of approbation and delight arose.
her appearance, supported on either side by Dick No one had ever seen such a Christmas tree before.
Ford and John Walker, while Uncle Braddock, in Every bough and every branch bore something
his many-colored dressing-gown, followed close useful as well as ornamental.
behind. Then the door was opened, and Aunt Ma- As for Aunt Matilda, for several moments she
tilda entered, followed by as many of the crowd as remained speechless with delight. At last she
could get in. It was certainly a scene of splendor. exclaimed:
A wood fire blazed in the fire-place at one end of the "Laws-a-massey! It's wuth while being good
cabin, while dozens of tallow candles lighted up the for ninety-five years to git such a tree at las'."
( T be continued.)



THE LITTLE GIRL WHO WOULD N'T EAT CRUSTS.


THE awfulest times that ever could be
S .. They had with a bad little girl of Dundee,
-- Who never would finish her crust.
S- In vain they besought her,
"' And patiently taught her,
S.. -- And told her she must.

(. Her grandma would coax,
\ _-- .'. And so would the folks,
SAnd tell her the sinning

i But no, she would n't,
S. She could n't, she should n't,
S- She'd have them to know-
-.--'T -. -So they might as well go.

Now what do you think soon came to pass?
This little girl of Dundee, alas!
Who would n't take crusts in the regular way,
Sat down to a feast one summer's day;
And what did the people that little girl give,
But a dish of bread fudding-as sure as I live !



PETE.

BY L. G. M.

I'M Pete. An' I'm a newsboy. This story take it down, and git it printed in ST. NICHOLAS.'
ain't writ by me, coz I can't write. Nor I can't An' he says to begin at the werry beginning w'en
read, so if anything 's took down wrong, it won't I fust seed my young un-a little chap wot I found'
be my fault. arter his father died, an' he had n't nothing' but a
"A gentlemun in one of our offices says to me : fiddle in the world. When I fust goes up to him
'You tell me the story of your young un, an' I '11 in the Park, down to City Hall, and asks him to







I I P ETE. [JANUARY,


play, he takes his stick an' pulls it acrost an' acrost This was a long time ago, afore I was a news-
the strings, an' makes the wust n'ise ye ever heerd boy, w'en I was trying' to sot up a broom at the
in yer life. He felt so took down when I laughed crossing's; but brooms was hard to git. We tried
that I asked him, serious, to keep at it, till he all next day beginn, an' on'y got two cents, an' we
he says, looking' up inter my face, drefful disap- was so cold an' hungry that I says to young un,
pointed, They 's awful n'ises, ain't they ?' I says, Let's begin again in the morning an' let's have a
'Wal, no; I've heerd the cats make ten times treat to-night. So we did; an' we had regular good
wuss ones nor that. I guess it '11 come some time fun goin' to a shop to buy our supper, 'stead o' beg-
if ye keep a trying, an' it cheered him heaps. gin' it. I makes him an' the baker woman laugh
So he hugged up his fiddle an' we started axin' her to guy me the most she can of anything
down to the corner. An' I says, 'W'ere air ye for two cents.' An', I tell ye wot, she was a jolly
goin' ?' An' he says, Now'eres.' An' I says, woman, too, for she guy us a lot o' bread, an' then
'Don't ye live now'eres?' An' he says, 'No.' she told us to hold on a bit, an' she went into
An' I says they was n't no use in it, fur he could n't another room an' bringed us out in her apron a lot
no more take keer of hisself than a baby ken, an' o' splendid stale goodies an' some elegant bits o'
he'd have,to live with me. An' he says, 'Will sugar wot was broke off a real weddin' cake. She
you take care o' me?' An' I says, 'Yes, I will.' did something' else, too. W'en the young un look-
An' that's the way he come to be my young un. ed up at her an' says, You 's good! an' tuk hold
I axed him wot was his name, an' I can 't tell of her gownd, she stooped down suddent, an' she
yer it, fur it was one o' them blamed furrin ut/ her lt,o arms roui' /im an' kissed hi/i / An'
names, an' I could n't never get it right, so I al- he dropped his fiddle-think o' that! He dropped
lus called him jes Young Un.' An' he axed me wot his fiddle, wot he never let go of night or day afore.
was my name, an' I telled him, 'Pete,' an' then An' he put his arms roun' her neck an' hid his face
we knowed each other, agin her. An' she says to me, 'Be good to him,
W'ere do ye live, Pete ? he says; an' I sez, for he's littler nor you.' An' he sings out, He is
'Wal, I live roun'-jes about roun'-here, I guess, good to me They ain't nobody so good as Pete
Ye see, I moved this morning. An' he says, in the whole world!' Then he cotches hold o' me
'W'ere did ye move to ? An' that was a stunner, an' we picks up the fiddle, an' the woman opens
I war n't a newsboy then, ye know; I was on'y a the door for us, an' tells us not to forgit weer the
loafer. But I seed a airy; so I says, 'Wal, we'll shop is, but to come to her w'en we's stuck an'
wait till all the lights is put out down stairs in can't git no supper. But I don't know wot made
this house, an' then we 11 live here ternight. But her stan' at the door an' cry whilst she was looking'
we mus' go fust an' git our bed af6re it's dark,' I arter us. We did n't do nothing' to make her cry.
says. So we walks roun' to a lot were they was An' I don't know wot made the young un cry
building an' he waits wile I digs out the bed from nuther. An'-bust me! I don't know wot made
under a pile o' stones. Yer see, I had to bury it me 'most up an' cry, too. I wonder wot it was?
in the morning's fur fear o' rag-pickers, 'cause it But that ain't wot I was going' to tell yer about
was a werry good bed an' comf'table, 'specially in Santy Klaus, on'y it was just that time we used to
airies. 'Wot was it?' It was a ole piece o' carpet have lots o' fun looking' in the shop windies seeing'
wot I foun' in front uv a house wunst arter some the Chrismus trees an' things. An' wot tickled
people moved away from it, an' it was ez long ez- him more nor anything else was the Santy Klauses
ez long ez you air, sir, an' longer, too. I takes it with the bags o' toys an' things piled on their
under my arm, an' the young un hol's on to my backs. He axed me wunst 'Did I believe they was
other han' an' we finds the airy agin. But we has reely a Santy Klaus ?' B'iieve it Do I ever in my
to loaf roun' a good wile 'fore the lights is put out. life see one o' them images in the windies now
W'en it's all dark we goes down under the steps, 'thout shakin' my fist at him ? The ole cheat!
an' I rolls up the carpet kind o'loose an' tells him Ye better believe I don't Wal, the night afore
ter crawl inside it. Will their' be room fur the Chrismus we was sleeping' down to B. F. Harriman
fiddle, too?' he says; coz, if their' won't I don't & Co's in a big packin' box full o' straw, wot
mind, I ken sleep outside, Pete.' An he looks so they'd left on the pavement, an' he says to me,
worried that I sings out, Of course, their' will Pete, ain't this the night Santy Klaus comes an'
Do yer think I'd leave the fiddle out ter cotch his puts things in children's stockin's wot's hung up in
death o' cold an' be laid up an' tooken to the orspi- the chimbley ?' An' I says, I 've heerd something'
tal?' An' that makes him laugh, an' then he 'bout it, but I don't much believe it, an' I never
crawls in fust, an' I crawls in last, an' then, theer tried it.' An' he says, Pete, do ye think he'd
we was, all three of us, squeedged up comf'table come to this box ef we hanged up stockin's to the
together, top of it? Will ye let's try, Pete?' An' I says,






'874.] PETE 1 19

SWeer's the stockin's ? An' that was a stunner, that creaked kinder in his chist, an' I could beat the
An' he says, 0, yes; we ain't got none. An' you chunes real easy, on'y I had to do it soft, for fear
ain't got no shoes, nuther, Pete. Ain't yer feet wakin' him. An' I kep' a watch on them two shoes,
cold ? he says. Ain't my feet cold ?' Did n't I an' I thought of all the things I 'd ever wished for in
kick a shindy in a place in the gutter weer it was my life, an' I wondered if Ole Santy'd leave on top
frozed, to let him see if my feet was cold. I got o' the box wot he could n't git into the shoes.
him laughing' so he 'mos' choked hisself. Then he' Twicte I heerd a noise an', I thought, sure 'nuff, theer
he was, an' I laid myself down quick,
in' commenced a-snorin'. But it
was n't him, an' he never come nigh
I. the box; an' I knowed afore morning'
I ;,, ., that he'd never come if we 'd waited
'" ,' .',;', a hundred nights for him, an' that
l' ", ; I .'.; ',. ii 'b {' he was a sell! W unst I thought
S" ,,i;W,, ,, ,, ," '"i|1"i."J'Jw:1 mebby it was true wot I 'd heerd
I..' J, li .. 'bout his leaving' empty the stockin's
V i ,,\,'1 iI' ''.,I of bad children; but he might a left
,, ~ii* "'".','./.1, my shoe empty an' I 'd b'lieved on
,' I III' ii'.-. IIIIii i IIi him ; but if he thought my young un
,' i '.i dl' .' '.' I, '''I was bad anyways, jes' let him or any
I' I .one else say a word agin that young
2., I1 Ir un an' I'll-'ll---I-wal, just you let 'em
li;i try it-that's all 1
.:Ifl '" I never thought of his bein' so
;'" i :,i',' l awful sorry next morning or I'd a done
-i"' ,"i, ",'",:'1"' somethin'-but w'en he waked up an'
-- .''' seen the shoes a-swingin' there with
*61-1 nuthin in 'em, an' I says, a-kickin' up
3r: ''-i-I.I .i my heels an' laughing : 'It's all a sell,
S. I' young un! his face kinder shook
-_ ii i itself all over, an', as hard as he tried,
.- -" he could n't help his eyes a-cryin', an'
"'' he says, with the creakin' in his wice:
Then, we 'sforgot! Then they ain't
S---.- nobody to look arter us! They
iii ;.'"' wouldn't be nobody to take keer of
me, Pete, if you got lost!' An'
then he bust. I tell ye, I never in
says, I tell ye, Pete-let's hang up my shoes-one all my life had to kick up so many shindies, an'
for you an' one for me-an' let's see if he'll come.' laugh so hard, as I had to that time, to make that
So, I says there was n't no harm in trying an' I young un stop a-bustin; an' he did n't stop a-shakin'
hung 'em up by the strings fas' to two nails wot his face an' squeedgin the tears back inter his eyes,
stuck out. 'Cause, I thought, if Santy had a mind not till I thought o' something I jumps up an'
to come, theer they was. An' I stuffed the young says: Look 'e here We didn't do it fair 'Do
un's feet inter my cap an' fixed the straw roun' ye s'pose, Pete,' he says, 'it't bein' shoes an' not
him an' told him for to go to sleep fast; an' he stocking's 'd make a difference? No,' I says, 'but
did, for we'd walked a lot that day, an' his legs was I guess Ole Santy has too much to do to git it all
werry small. But I kep' a watch to see if the ole done in one night, an' mcbby, if we hang the shoes
feller 'd come or not. out agin to-night, he'll come Ye 'd ought to seen
Nights is awful long w'en ye try to keep awake. his face 'shine up w'en I says that. 'Do ye think
But, I was boun' to do it, an' I did till 'mos' morn- so, Pete?' he says; an' I says, square out, Yes, I
in', when I knowed it was n't no use. Fust I do/' an' I never lied sech a lie since I was horned.
counted all the lamps I could, then I counted all But I didn't keer for anything but to comfort him.
the windies, an' then I fixed my eye on a big star, an' I made up my mind that I was goin' to have
an' every time he winked at me I winked back somet/iin' in that theer shoe of his that night, if I
agin' to him. Then I beat chunes on the box to had to tell a whopper.
the young un's breathin'-for they was something' So I tuk him to a ole musiciangcr wot lived up






120 PETE. [JANUARY


in a attic, an' wot got to teaching' him a little some- had n't only this left. He put it into my shoe, but
times how to play a chune on the fiddle, an' I left he meant it for you too. It's a sign, Pete; it's a
him theer w'ile I went out by myself to look for sign. We ain't forgot. They is somebody some-
somethin'. I tell ye, I stud at the crossing's an' wecrs to take keer of us !'
watched the people with bundles to see if they'd That's wot he believed, an' he allers stuck to it,
drop something an' I kep' my eye on people to see an' kep' the green thing buttoned up in his jacket.
if I couldn't git a cent somehow. I picked up a An' he kep' it till we got stuck on account of his
ole lady's muff fur her, an' a swell's cane, an' I bein' took sick, an' went to the baker-woman's, an'
cotched a dorg between my legs an' held on to him she kep' us an' put him into a bed, an' wouldn't let
to keep him from skeerin' a little gal, an' I held us go, but she an' me took care of him. An' the
open a 'bus door for a woman, an' I ran arter a musicianger come werry often to see him, an' learn
gent's hat w'en the wind tuk it. An' wunst a lady him the chunes. An' he makes me sit on the bed
dropped a ball an' a whistle, an' w'en she didn't aside of him. 'For,' he says, I wants you, Pete;
know it, an' I picked 'em up, it seemed as if I an' I wants you to put yer head down here, on the
couldn't give em back. I follered her a good pillow, close to mine.' So I does it an' I hears him
ways, feeling' an' feeling' 'cm, an' looking' an' look- say: 'You 's werry tired, Pete. I guess you 's
in' at 'em, roun' an' roun', an' thinking' how walked a hundred miles for me. An' oh, ain't it
tickled the young un 'd be with 'em. But I good, Pete, to be on a bed?-a real bed!' An'
jest happened to think wot if he foun' out that then he says, werry soft, Pete I feels somebody
I put 'em in his shoe, an' axed me weer did I a-takin' keer of us! Do you feel 'em ? An' I
git 'em. W'en I thought of that, I walked as fast axes him, 'Is it the woman, young un ?' An' he
as.I could, an' guy 'em back to the lady. I looked says, No.' An' I axes, 'Is it the musicianger?'
at her vwerry sharp, but she never guv me nothing An' he says. 'No, Pete. They's werry good, but
An' nobody never guy me nothing an' I had to take I feels Somebody else, too. I don't know who it is,
home the young un's supper, wot I begged at last, but I thinks I'm finding 'em out, an' I'll know
an' nothing' else. There he was a-waitin' for me. werry soon, Pete-werry soon, indeed.'
'It's 'mos' night, Pete,' he says, 'an' it'll soon be "An' they is one thing wot is queer: he says
time to hang up the shoes agin, won't it?' An' he that so often that I kinder gets to believe something'
was feeling' so glad that he couldn't stop a-talkin'. too. I don't know wot it is, 'cept that it ain't any-
'You's walked a long ways to-day, Pete,' he says; thing 'bout Santy Klaus; but I believes something .
'have ye had a good time 'thout me?' An' I An' I's sure of it, one morning w'en he's sitting'
says I'd had a jolly good time, but it was a lie. up in bed, an' the woman's there, an' the musician-
An' I had ter lie agin w'en he wasn't goin' to eat ger's helping' him to hold the fiddle, for he's learned
anything' till I did, an' I said I'd had my supper, a chune at last, an' he wants to play it to me. He
"Arter supper, I piled him into the box agin an' plays it werry soft, an' feeble, an' shaky, an' he has
hung up the shoes. I waited till he was to sleep, to stop sometimes to rest, but he plays it an' he
an' then I went off agin to hunt. But I watched won't guy it up till he comes to the end of it.
and watched, an' I waited an' waited, an' I couldn't Then he says: 'Pete, that's my chune, an' its
find nothing' at all but a leetle piece of a branch wot name is Home, Sweet Home. I used to think
was broke off from a Chrismus tree. It warn't no it meant home weer me an' fader an' this fiddle
bigger nor my hat, but I tuk it home, an' w'en I lived, an' here weer the woman lives, but it ain't-
got theer an' seen the young un sleeping' soun' an' it's someweers else. An', Pete,' he says, huggin'
kinder laughing' in his sleep, as if he seen Ole Santy of his fiddle, 'you must keep my Chrismus tree
Klaus with a whole bundle o' toys for him; an' till- till- '
w'en I looked at on'y the leetle green thing in my You see, sir, the little chap was set on it that
hand, I come nigh bustin myself. But he moved, he was a-goin'-but he didn't go. A week from
so I jest stuck the branch into his shoe an' crept that day he took a turn, and mended faster'n he 'd
into the straw alongside o' him. gone down. But he was allus kind o' saint-wise
"I didn't sleep werry much, an' I woke up fust carter that, and kind o' got me to bein' so blamed
in the morning an' I waited for him to wake, putikular agin doin' wrong things that-that-well,
'spectin' he'd bust agin w'en he seed his shoe an' you see, sir, it's led me inter good, honest, steady
nothing' but the green thing in it. But wot do ye bizness, and I don't look upon lyin' same as I used
think he did? He waked up, an' he seed it, an' to, no how. As fur the young un hisself, sir, he
-he jumped right up an' sung out, a-shiverin' an' was coaxed away agin his will an' my own, by the
laughing 0 Pete Look! It is true They is musicianger who's been a-teachin' an' doin' so well
a Santy Klaus! See! He had to go all roun' by him, that, if you '11 believe me, sir, he's soon
everywheer, an' w'en he got to you an' me, he goin' into a orkistry, my young un is."






874.] HIOW MEG CHANGED HER MIND. 121



HOW MEG CHANGED HER MIND.

BY ELIZABETH LAWRENCE.

LITTLE Meg lay on the sofa in her mother's greeted with a burst of tears and sobs, mingled
pleasant sitting-room, with a very discontented ex- with oft-repeated lamentations of Oh how hor-
pression on her plump round face. rid everything is I want to go to Edith's party !
Everybody knows that a sprained ankle cannot There never was anybody in the world so unfor-
be cured without perfect rest. Meg had not been tunate as I am "
allowed to put her foot to the ground for a week. Poor Aunt Mary tried soothing and petting in
Her father carried her into the sitting-room every vain, till at last she said, Meg, dear, I want to



.: '' I ~ ,







5-' I=-
S1_i l ..

















CHILDREN IN THE LONDON HOSPITAL.

morning, and Mamma read aloud, and played tell you about some little sick children I saw in
games, and devoted herself to Meg's pleasure; but London. Wouldn't you like to hear ? I can't be-
on this afternoon, Mamma was obliged to go out gin till you stop crying."
for an hour or two, and it had just occurred to Meg One of Aunt Mary's London stories was not to
that she was very tired of lying still, and, moreover, be despised, and presently Meg said, in quite an
that this was the day her friend, Edith Perkins, was altered tone, "Do tell me, Aunty; I won't cry now?"
having a party; and she imagined what fun they Well, then, in the mighty city of London there
must be enjoying while she was left at home with are many people so dreadfully poor that they suffer
Jane, the maid. She had plenty of books to read, from hunger and cold and dirt every day 01
and a large fardily of dolls of all kinds, from wax their lives. Now, this is fearful enough for the
to paper, besides Snow-ball, the fat white kitten, strong ones, but fancy what illness must be in a
who was always ready to play, but she was out crowded room, on a hard bed, with no clean linen,
of humor, and did not wish to amuse herself with no cooling things to drink, or nice, nourishing food
any of these things; besides, her ankle ached, to give strength; without any doctor, very likely,
And so it happened that when Aunt Mary ar- and, in short, with more misery of every kind than
rived to spend the afternoon with her pet, she was you and I could even imagine.
VL I.--8.
CHILDREN IN THE LONDON HOSPITAL.

morning, and Mamma read aloud, and played tell you about some little sick children I saw in
games, and devoted herself to Meg's pleasure; but London. Wouldn't you like to hear? I can't be-
on this afternoon, Mamma was obliged to go out gin till you stop crying."
for an hour or two, and it had just occurred to Meg One of Aunt Mary's London stories was not to
that she was very tired of lying still, and, moreover, be despised, and presently Meg said, in quite an
that this was the day her friend, Edith Perkins, was altered tone, IIDo tell me, Aunty; I won't cry now.?"'
having a party; and she imagined what fun the) Well, then, in the mighty city of London there
must be enjoying while she was left at home with are many people so dreadfully poor that they suffer
Jane, the maid. She had plenty of books to read, from hunger and cold and dirt every day ol
and a large farfiily of dolls of all kinds, from wax their lives. Now, this is fearful enough for the
co paper, besides Snow-ball, the fat white kitten, strong ones, but fancy what illness must be in a
who was always ready to play, but she was out crowded room, on a hard bed, with no clean linen,
of humor, and did not wish to amuse herself with no cooling things to drink, or nice, nourishing food
any of these things; besides, her ankle ached. to give strength; without any doctor, very likely,
And so it happened that when Aunt Mary ar- and, in short, with more misery of every kind than
rived to spend the afternoon with her pet, she was you and I could even imagine.
VOL. 1.--8.






122 CHRISTMAS IN SPAIN. [JANUARv,


Knowing all this, good people have built hos- little face. He told me with delight that his father
pitals, where these unfortunate ones can have and mother and the baby came to see him every
everything done for them to soothe their sufferings Sunday, upon which a little girl in the next bed
and help them to get well. Some of these are es- said sadly, 'I've no mother to come and see me,
pecially for children, because it is thought they for she is dead,' but she added, brightening,.
can be better taken care of in an hospital suited 'Father comes, though, once a month.'
exactly to their wants than where there are sick I turned away to hide the tears that would get
people of all ages. In one that I went to see there into my eyes. Of course, I knew the kind doctors
were about fifty little patients, divided among four and nurses at the hospital did all they possibly-
large, airy, cheerful rooms, with pictures on the could for the happiness of the poor little things,
walls and flowering plants in the windows. Each but it seemed to me so very, very hard, that they
child had a neat little iron bedstead, with a white could not have their mothers just when they were
counterpane, and across each bed a sort of shelf- ill and needed them so much!
table was fixed on which their play-things were ar- One thing that brightened all, was their
ranged. Very queer play-things they were, gene- sweet behavior to each other. Not one bit of
rally old shabby toys that had been discarded by jealousy or selfishness did I see, and there was a
more fortunate children; but although most of the real courtesy in the way that each one seemed to
dolls were more or less forlorn, and the horses care that the others should be noticed too. I could
didn't look as if they could run very fast, they were not help contrasting it with the rude self-seeking
evidently highly valued by those little people, some of many children I have known, who ought to.
of whom probably had never had a toy of any kind behave better, not worse, than they.
before. In one of the rooms the little patients "And how shall I tell you how patient they were t
were too ill to play, but as they lay back on their There was no crying or complaining, though some
pillows they gazed fondly at their small possessions; were suffering dreadful pain; and the only noise I
and the dolls who sat on the little tables, with their heard was a slight moan wrung from the white
legs hanging over the edge, vacantly staring at lips of a little hero, who had been brought in the
their poor little owners, I dare say did them as day before, dreadfully injured by a fall. There
much good as some of the doctors' medicines, was a kind, strong angel in that hospital, whose
In the other rooms the children were able to sweet presence, though unseen, was felt." "Yes,"
have a good deal of fun, if one could judge from the whispered Aunt Mary, as she bent to kiss Meg's
merry laughter one heard at the little jokes that upturned questioning face, "it was the angel of
went about from one bed to another, and yet, do patience, darling, and he will always come to any-
you know, Meg, it often was saddest of all to see body who longs for him, and tries faithfully to keep
the children who seemed most comfortable, because him when he is here."
one knew that while some of the few who were The story was finished and Meg lay quite still
violently ill might get quite well again with the, for some minutes, thinking, with her hand fast
good care they were having, many of these would clasped in Aunt Mary's. Then she said softly,
never walk or run, or be rosy, healthy boys and I'm very sorry I was so naughty, I don't really
girls any more in this world, think I am more unfortunate than anybody else,
One little boy named Arthur, I was told, was a and I'll never say so again."
great favorite with all the rest, and I did not wonder Meg did not forget her promise, and all through
at it when I spoke to him, and heard his sweet the remaining weeks of her confinement to the
voice and saw the bright smile that lit up his pale sofa, the angel of the hospital staid close by her side.




CHRISTMAS IN SPAIN.

By JOHN HAY.

THERE is no civilized country on earth in which Claus, with his shrewd, twinkling eyes, his frosty
children are not made happy by the promise of the beard, his ruddy face and the bag of treasures with
coming Christmas. But in every country the festi- which he comes tumbling down the chimney, while
val is called by a different name, and its presiding his team of reindeer snort and stamp on the icy
genius is painted with a different costume and man- roof. The English Christmas is equally well-known,
ner. You know all about our jolly Dutch Santa and the wonders of the German miracle-tree, the







1874.] CHRISTMAS IN SPAIN. I'2

first sight of which no child ever forgets. But you the men can sing of nothing better than politics.
are, perhaps, not so familiar with the spirit of the But the part which the children take in the festival
blessed season of advent in Southern Europe, and bears a curious resemblance to those time-honored
so I will tell you some of the pleasures and fancies ceremonies we all remember. The associations of
of the Spanish Christmas. Christmas in Spain are all of the Gospel. There is
The good cheer which it brings everywhere is no northern St. Nick there to stuff the stockings of
especially evident in Spain. They are a frugal good children with rewards of merit. Why, then.
people; and many a good Spanish family is sup- on Christmas eve do you see the little shoes exposed
ported by less than the waste of a household on by the windows and doors? The wise kings of the
Murray Hill. But there is no sparing at Christmas. East are supposed to be journeying by night to
This is a season as fatal to turkeys as Thanksgiving Bethlehem, bearing gifts and homage to the heav-
in New England. The Castilian farmers drive enly Child, and out of their abundance, when they
them into Madrid in great droves, which they con- pass by the houses where good children sleep, they
duct from door to door, making the dim old streets will drop into their shoes some of the treasures they
gay with their scarlet wattles, and noisy with ob- are bearing to the Baby Prince in Judea. This
























streperous gabbling. But the headquarters of the thought is never absent from the rejoicings of
marketing during those days are in the Plaza Mayor, Christmas-tide in Spain. Every hour of4he time is
where every variety of fruit and provision is sold. sacred to Him who came to bring peace and good-
There is nothing more striking than those vast will to the world. The favorite toy of the season is
.--- -. .















heaps of fresh golden oranges, plucked the day be- called The Nativity." It is sometimes very clabo-
fore in the groves of Andalusia; nuts from Granada, rate and costly, representing a landscape under a
and dates from Africa; every flavor and color of starry night; the shepherds watching their flocks;
tropical fruitage; and in the stalls beneath the the magi coming in with wonder and awe, and the
gloomy arches, the butchers drive their flourishing Child in the stable, shedding upon the darkness
trade. All is gay and joyous-chaffering and jest- that living light which was to overspread the world.
ing, greeting of friends and filling of baskets. The Before the holidays are ended the three kings
sky is wintry but the ground is ruddy and rich with make their appearance again. On the eve of the
the fruits of summer. Epiphany, the porters and water-carriers of Madrid,
At night the whole city turns out into the streets. wherever they can find one young and simple
The youths and maidens of the poorer class go enough to believe it, tell him that those royal and
trooping through the town with tamborines casta- sacred personages are coming to the city that night
nets and guitars, singing and dancing. Everyone and that they must go to the gates to receive them.
has a different song to suit his own state of mind. They make the poor fellow carry a long ladder,
The women sing of love and religion, and many of which, on arriving at each gate, is mounted by one
The women sing of love and religion, and many of which, on arriving at each gate, is mounted by one







124 ACTING CHARADE.- 'SILENT." [JaxNI-


of the'party, who announces that the visitors are Through the court I walked with rigid eyes;
not yet in sight. The ladder is then put again upon The breeze was heavy with dread-
the shoulders of the victim, and the sorry joke is re- I spoke to the passers like a boor
peated as long as he can endure it. With sulky, covered head.
Before leaving Spain I will give you a little story The host passed by-the friars scowled,
in rhyme, which came to be written in this way: One And fain would have struck me flat;
Christmas time we went to visit a beautiful Moorish How could I bow when the host passed by ?
ruin, and one of the party, an American boy, who I carried a nail in my hat.
was too lively to be very thoughtful, picked up a
curiously carved nail, used for studding a door in t weighed a ton when, at last, closed
old times, and, I regret to say, put it on his head My purgatorial course;
,ne ,i 'I felt that my head was growing bald
under his hat. He had great trouble in carrying it I
With friction and remorse.
home, and was very much laughed at in conse- With friction and remorse.
quence. He wrote these verses as a penance for I dropped my nail in the Tagus' stream
his fault, and I give them to you to see if you can And tred to atone b that,
find the moral of them: For the crime I had done, and the woe I had known,
When I carried a nail in my hat.
THE CONTRABAND NAIL.
As I walked in pleasant company, And I could but think as I homeward rode
From the tables of the Moor, Across the moonlit miles,
I spied a large, seductive nail How we would stare, could we see the care
That lay on the marble floor. Beneath our neighbors' tiles;
A thievish suggestion came to me,- The stiffened neck, the devious walk,
Fiends' whispers are so pat- The dodging, and all that
The antiquarian flesh was weak- Grow plain as the sun in a Spanish noon-
I put the nail in my hat. When you've carried a nail in your hat.




ACTING CHARADE.-"SILENT."

By MARY L. RITTER.

[This charade requires no special costumes, and can be acted well in any drawing-room, without scenery.
Dramatic Personae.-MR. CORWIN. MR. CARELESS. MARGERY.
(Servant to Mr. Corwin.)
ACT I.-SIGH.
SCENE .-Room in the house of Mr. Corwin. Mr. C. at a table covered with
books, law-Apapers, &-c. Valise on the floor. Preparation for a journey.
Mr. Corwin (heaving a long sigh).
Well, well, troubles and pains that can't be cured,
Whether with grace or not must be endured-
I hate most awfully to go away.
And yet, how can I reasonably stay?
The weather's cold, and travel insecure;
But, yet, those evils I could well endure,
Did not these papers so perplex the case.
(Takes a pfaerfrom the table, unfolds, and looks it over with a long sigh.)
I found them, too, in such a curious place,-
Concealed within the book I got to-day
From Mr. Careless, deftly laid away
Between the outside cover and the back.
These papers we have vainly tried to track,
For want of which a legal war we wage
To prove our title to the heritage







ACTING. CHARADE.-- SILENT.' 125


Of certain lands grown valuable of late,
For half the town belongs to the estate.
If Careless should suspect, he wouldn't dare
To come and ask me for them on the square,"
And if I leave them, he will surely plan
Some tricky way to get them, if he can;
And if I take them, then farewell to rest.
Who would believe such things could be a pest?
They ought to be of most prodigious size,
They are so precious to my doting eyes. (Sighss.)
There's Margery, my good, hard-working maid,
She's kind and faithful. Still, I am afraid
Some curious gossip, over toast and tea,
And under pledge of strictest secrecy
Might worm the matter from her; for her tongue,
To tell the truth, is in the middle hung.
If I could only tie it I'd be sure;
But, nothing else would make the thing secure.
She's good as gold. Gold that's the word for me.
Silence is golden; it remains to see
Whether with gold I can so lock her lips
That not a word from out the portal slips. (Rinys tihc Ch/l. Ente-r ;Ma'r'n )
Well, Margery, my girl, before I go
We'll have a bit of talk. I'm sure you know
How much I prize your services. You've been
Steady, industrious, respectful, clean,
Ready to do even more than I desired.
!rgery. Wal, sir, to tell the truth, when first I hired
To do your work, I thought I moughtn't stay
Without no mistress here to pint the way;
But you've been just that kind, that I could work
And not feel hurried or a mind to shirk:
And while you're gone you needn't have no fear
But what I'll do the same as when you're here,
Although I'll make so bold as just to say,
I wish you hadn't got to go away.
_1r. Cbrzwin. I thank you, Margery. I'm glad to know
You like your home. I hope you'll stay. And so
To prove how much I trust you, and how well,
I've got a secret for you.
,Margery. L-a! du tell!
Mr. Corzuin. Yes; one of great importance. If you say
That you will keep, it while I am away,
I'll tell you now. If it should get about- (Sighs.)
iargery. I moughtn't keep it, then again, I mought.
I always did tell everything I know'd.
'Tis like a flower,-the fust you know, it's blowed!
l/Mr. Corwin. Yes, so I thought; let me my plan explain,
If you don't speak at all, why then 'tis plain
You can't be made to tell, so you may earn
Five dollars every day till I return,
By never speaking to a single soul.







126 ACTING CHARADE.--'SILENT." [JANUARY,


Mlargery. (In great surprise.) Five dollars every day?
Mlr. Corzwin. Yes; to control
That wagging member that I can't quite trust.
Margery. Sir, 'tis a bargain. If I must, I must.
Five dollars and my wages is a heap,
And I won't talk unless it's in my sleep.
'Twill be hard work; but I don't care a straw,
I'll put a sticking-plaster on my jaw.
Mr. Co)win. That's right, my girl! you never will regret it,
And for my bargain, I will not forget it.
Now for my wondrous secret: Hid away
In the big book I borrowed yesterday
From Mr. Careless, I, by fate directed,
Found in a place that no one had suspected
Some papers of great value in the case
That Careless has against me. Should he trace
The deeds to me, he'll come here to find out,
And then, I reckon, he'll find you about.
Here are the papers; keep them safely hid,
They're worth their weight in gold. Do as I bid-
No matter what they say or what they do,
Don't let them get a syllable from you. (Exit Mr. Cobwin.)
Margery. So that old sarpent, Careless, is the man,
I hate him so I'll plague him all I can.
But, law! here I am gabbling away
As if I wasn't paid so much a day.
If Careless comes, won't he be in a tease? (Trying to sneeze.)
I wonder if it's talking when you sneeze?
(Claps her hands over her mouth in horrr, and runs of the stag.)

ACT II.--LENT.
SCENE I.-Ofice of ir. Careless. Mr. C. with a box before him contaiinig
old books and papers. Books filed on the floor. Papers thrown about.
M7r. C., wearing- green spectacles, seated, examiinng papers.
M1r. Careless. Here, let me see now; here, now, let me see,
I know just where those papers ought to be;
But if I've bought this trash of neighbor Jones,-
Just dead, poor fellow, Heaven rest his bones,-
And after all my trouble find too late
No trace of any deeds of the estate
I think I shall go mad. Why was I late?
He strove so vainly to articulate
Just at the last; but I could not make out,
Although I tried, what it was all about. (Enter servant with letter.)
Servant. A letter, sir.
Mr. Careless. A letter? Let me see. (Opens, and looks at signature.)
From Mrs. Jones; what can she want with me?
(Reads). "Dear Sir:-You were so kind in my distress,
Buying my husband's books, I can't do less
Than tell you that you 've been so fortunate
As now to hold the deeds to that estate."
(Zounds! here is luck! I hope she isn't mad--








-874.] ACTING CHARADE.--"SILNT." 12'7

Or parted with the little sense she had.)
(Reads.) "My husband hid them, thinking that some day
Old Mr. Corwin or yourself would pay
To get them back; but when our funds were low,
And I entreated him to let you know,
And give me half the money for a shawl,
He said he'd found they were no good at all,
Only as curious things that people buy
When their great hobby is antiquity;
That he should tell you of it the next day,
When, lo! paralysis took him away,
And I am left my mourning to begin,
Without a yard of crape to do it in."
Mr. Careless. Well, this is good, when here she gives away
Enough to make her rich for many a day.
But let us see where I shall find the goods;
Don't crow too loud, till you get through the woods.
(Reads.) The volume where the papers lie concealed
Is Locke, and with the key I give 'twill yield
The treasure, which, although now valueless,
I think you will be happy to possess,
And, thanking you for various friendly loans,
Gratefully yours, Matilda Mary Jones."
Locke gracious powers that was the one I lent
To Corwin, of all men! and he has spent
At least one night with it, and has no doubt,
Scrutinized, probed, and found the whole thing out!
Lent! I shall burst with rage. Lent! lost and gone!
And no one here to vent my rage upon.
Corwin, they say, is off on some goose chase,
And no one knows when I shall see his face.
And Margery is dumb; at least I've heard
That for some reason she won't say a word.
I'll go there, anyway, on some pretence,
And end as best I can this great suspense. (Exit.)


ACT III.-SILENT.
SCENE I.-Mr. Corwin's house. Margery dusting and arranging the room.
Enter Mr. Careless in out-door dress, with an umbrella.
iMr. Careless. Well, Margery, my girl, how do you do?
(Margery looks at him, and gives her duster a great shake.)
Mir. Careless. Why, what the mischief 's entered into you ?
A devil, mayhap, such as used to be
About the shores of the Galilean Sea.
I'd cast him out by means of a stout stick,
Were I in Corwin's place. Where is he? Sick? (M. shakes her head.)
Then gone? (She nods.)
Why, zounds, you jade! Stop nodding so,
Or I shall shake your head, myself! But, no!
I'm wrong. I ask your pardon. I am quick,
And apt to be a little choleric.








I2S A NEW REGULATION. [JANUARY.


You say that Mr. Corwin is away? (She nods.)
And do you know how long he's going to stay?
(Margery takes an empty purse from her pocket, and looks at it./
Ah, ho! I see! 'Tis bad about your cold. (Takes out his furse.)
I wish you'd please accept this piece of gold,
And get some honey-dew, or coal-tar gum.
It's very nice to take. Now, Margery, come!
Did Corwin speak of papers, deeds, or such ? (She nods.)
Ah, yes; he did! All right, I thought as much.
Perhaps he left them. Just step in and see.
(Margery again takes out her purse, and the key of the next room.)
Yes, yes; I understand, and I agree
To pay you well. And while you're there, just look
And bring me out my Locke. (Aside) I'll take the book;
Perhaps it's still within it, and this fool
Will be for once a most convenient tool.
(Mfargery puts the key in the door, and looks wistfully at Ar. C's money.)
Well, I will trust you. Take it now, and go.
(She goes out and returns with a bundle of brown paper and an old
ldoor-lock.)
Ab. Careless. You wretch you thief! you cheat! Oh, heavens Oh!
Give me my money, or I'll break your skull.
'He threatens her with the umbrella. She snatches it away and beaten
him withi it.)
Oh, what a goose I've been! oh, what a gull!
This is the worst drop in my cup of gall,
I'll hide myself lest it should not be all;
But I would gladly suffer other ways,
If this wretch could be silent all her days.
(MIiargery drives him out at the point of the umbrella and dances wild/y
about the stage.









A NEW REGULATION.

IF the police were elephants, -
Perhaps we'd have less noise; .' -
'Twould be so easy for them then -
To "take up" little boys. .

The little truants all about :
Would quickly know their rule; "^ ""'
They'd pack each fellow in their trunks,
And take him back to school. .
-., '
'V,







S74.1 A GARRET ADVENTURE. 129




A GARRET ADVENTURE.

BY M. M. D.

"SNOW! snow! snow!" garret, for I shall be quite busy. Have all the
So it did. But Ned Brant need not have been fun you can, but be sure not to break anything and
so cross about it. He seemed to think, as he said not to take cold."
the words, that of all unfortunate, ill-used fellows You may wonder why Mrs. Brant did not say:
he was the most to be pitied; and of all hateful, "Be sure not to be naughty." But she would
malignant things, those soft, white, downy specks, almost as soon have said: Be sure not to cut off
flitting past the window, were hatefulest and most your heads," as to have said that. She knew her
malignant. children too well to think they did not wish to be
Christmas week, too !" said Ned, bitterly. good. As for telling them "not to take cold," that
So it was; and perhaps it ought to have been only meant they must be sure to dress warmly if
ashamed of itself; but it didn't seem to be. they played out of doors. The garret was ncver
At this moment a great clattering was heard at very chilly, because the heat from the furnace always
the back door. crept up there whenever it had a chance.
They've come after all," cried Ned, rushing It was a lovely old garret, light, yet mysterious,
out of the room and down the stair, all his wretch- with plenty of stored-away things in it to make it
edness gone in an instant, interesting, and a great cleared space to play in.
His two sisters were at the door before him, and Just now it was even more delightful than usual.
the three opened it together, for in one corner of it was a very big heap of pot-
0, 0, howdy-do ? we were afraid you wouldn't ter-baker's clay.
come !" said some voices, and Hello where's O, what's that?"- cried the visitors, the moment
your scraper?" "Pooh! we weren't going to mind they reached the garret door.
such a little snow as this," cried others, all in a "That's potter-baker's clay," said Ruth. It's
chorus. splendid for lots of things. Father's going to make
Six visitors Think of that. Two lived next some kind of what-you-call-'ems out of it."
door on one side, two lived next door on the other Thereupon the six visitors all stood in a row and
side, and two lived across the way. The first pair gazed at the heap. It was grey, dusty and lumpy,
were named Wilbur and Rob; the second pair and looked something like faded-out garden soil.
were Herbert and Dickie; the third pair were Jamie /What's he going to make ?" said Tommy.
and Tommy. Wilbur had on an overcoat and a I don't know, exactly," said Ruth, it only
muffler, for he had a weak chest. Rob had a tippet came yesterday."
tied over his cap, for he was subject to ear-ache. "Was it a Christmas present to your papa?"
Herbert had a cap and a grey overcoat; Dickie had asked little Dickie, innocently.
a cap and no overcoat; Jamie wore a Scotch suit; and "I bet it wasn't," replied Ned, with lofty scorn.
Tommy wore a short bob-jacket and long trowscrs. "He had slippers. What'd your father get?"
I tell you this so that you may know how-they ap- Slippers, too," said Dickie.
peared. As for their faces, they were so rosy and "So did my papa," laughed Wilbur.
bright that they all looked alike when the door "I guess all gentlemens gets 'em," said Dickie,
opened. All the visitors were boys, as any one thoughtfully, "but I'd rather have 'most anything
would have known who heard the tramping as the 'sides them."
party went up-stairs. Still the children stood staring at the heap of clay.
Yes, up stairs they went, nine of them, talking "Let's sit on it," said Jamie, with great daring.
every step of the way. The home children, Ned, I guess it '11 dust off."
Ruth, and Dot, almost always took any visitor that A hint was enough. The heap was soon covered
came, right to their mother's room to introduce with children, and when they jumped up they found
them, out of respect to her, or at any rate, to give that Jamie was right. It dusted off" admirably.
them the benefit of her hearty How do you do, Let's make a road," cried one of the others.
my dears ?" But this time they went straight past All right !" said Ned, in great glee; but he
her door, up, up, to the very garret. looked at Ruth, and she answered his look with
Ned," his mother had said in the morning, if "yes; we'd best ask Mamma."
the children come this afternoon to help you keep Ned was down-stairs in a twinkling. Mrs. Brant
the holidays, either play in the yard or up in the was very busily fitting a dress on her mother.








130 A GARRET ADVENTURE. [JANUARY.

"Don't come in, Ned!" she called, as Ned "Why, make a skating pond here, right here, in
opened the door. I'm busy with Grandma; what this very garret! "
do you want ?" Yes, you could," sneered Tommy, who, by the
"Can we play with the clay, mother ?" way, was the only fellow who had taken off his hat;
0, yes, I suppose so," said the mother, pinning Ruth had excused them because the garret was
a plait on Grandma's shoulder; do what you please not very warm.
with it, only don't throw it about and get it into each I tell you, I could, man. I say Ned, let's do
other's eyes." it We can have a pond here before night. Your
"O no, ma'am," answered Ned, as he rushed bath-room is right on the next floor, isn't it?
toward the garret stairs again, quite delighted. Here are pots and pans enough for all of us."
But when he reached the top, he found all the All the eight stared at Wilbur, as if they thought
children with tears in their eyes. his wits were leaving him, but he added eagerly,
They had already forgotten the clay; for Ruth "I tell you, it will be grand. We'll have as big
had taken a big onion from a bunch that hung on a circle as we can get here in the middle of the
one of the rafters. Wilbur had cut it in slices, and garret, and make a bank out of that clay-clay
now every one was holding a piece to see "which holds water perfectly. Then we'll fill up the
could smell the onion longest without crying." circle with water."
"What a pack of ninnies! cried Ned, laughing, Their eyes danced at this, but Tommy chilled
and all the ninnies laughed with him, except little their ardor with a sarcastic
Dot, who whined a little and wished she hadn't "Ho skate on water ho "
tried it. "We'll open the scuttle and the windows, and let
Have you given up the road? ask Ned, but the pond freeze over-night," said Wilbur.
nobody answered him, for that old garret had so Jiminy screamed Ned;" so we can! Come
much in it to look at, so many odd nooks and on here; we'll have the bank in a jiffy!"
corners, that before the eight pairs of eyes were dry Hurrah cried the rest.
their owners were all scudding and burrowing In an instant all hands were at work-all but
about like so many rabbits. What a delightful Ruth, who looked troubled, and begged Dot to
time they had! I cannot begin to tell you all the "go down and ask Mamma." She should have
games they played, and the comical talks they had, gone herself, for Dot was only six years old, and a
nor how they "dressed up" in the old hats and very uncertain young woman at carrying messages.
garments theyfound hanging on the nails, nor how Soon Dot, clambering down two sets of stairs,
the boys made the girls scream by crying "Here's rushed into her mother's room with-" Mamma,
a rat, kill him kill him! and then flinging their Ruth wants to know if we can do it? "
victim across the floor in the shape of an old boot "Do what, Dot ? (Mother, do look at that child's
or a bit of torn fur. At last Tommy looked out of cheeks-they're just like roses.) Do what, my
one of the little square windows, which was half pet ?"
covered with cobwebs. "I say, its snowing harder Why, play bank with the clay," panted Dot.
than ever-there'd have been good skating by to- O, I suppose I must," laughed the mother.
morrow if it hadn't snowed !" Tell her yes, Dot." As the little girl ran out of
This seemed to make all the party serious for a the room and up the stairs, screaming, Yes, yes,
moment. Mamma says you can do it," Mrs. Brant said to
"It isn't so very bad," said Ruth, who always Grandma, "I ought to go up, I suppose. But they
looked on the bright side of things. "There'll be can't do more than make a muss with it, and they
splendid snow-balling." can clear it all up to-morrow."
"Who cares for snow-balling!" cried little "You're too easy with those children, Eliza,"
Dickie, skatin's the best." said Grandma, quietly, adding, as Mrs. Brant hur-
Everybody laughed at this, for Dickie was only riedly took up her sewing again, "but they're
six years old, and couldn't skate a stroke, not even such dear little things, I don't wonder you like to
on roller skates, make 'em happy."
Suddenly, Wilbur cried Oh and stood Good cried Ned when Dot's happy message
motionless, looking steadily at the floor. Rob flew was delivered. "Mother's splendid. I say, we
to him like a good brother, as he was, and gave him must fill up all these cracks with the clay, boys."
a poke. You're sure Mother said we could, Dot? "
What on earth's the matter, Wilbur?" Course she did," said Dot, decidedly. She
"Nothing. Only I bet we could Sure as I live laughed, too."
we could! Poor little Dot had no idea that she had .told her
Could what?" cried Tommy. mother only half of their plan. Her own head was







i874.1 A GARRET ADVENTURE. 1I

so full of it that she thought everyone else must breaks, and beat it solid with the back of the
know all about it, too. As for Ruth, she being spade.
three years older, couldn't help being surprised at Keep on! keep on shouted Ned, still lead-
their mother's consent to such wild fun, but she ing the way, while the rest followed. We'll have
never dreamed but that her mother had consented. her full in less than no time."
It was a time of deep delight to her, for she could *
work as hard as any of the boys. Eliza said Grandma, do hear the trampin'.
In a little while the bank was made. Many What on earth can those children be doing ?"
hands make light work." It was a fine affair, well 0," laughed Mrs. Brant, "they're playing
packed and quite regular in shape, for Wilbur some game or other. Betsey'll look after them.
had chalked a circle on the floor for them to She's busy up-stairs, for I hear the water running."
work by."
So Ned and Tommy took two pails that were It's mighty queer," said Ned, dashing in a
in a corner of the garret, and ran to the bath- pailful, as Ruth emptied her crock for the twentieth
















a big earthen jar for herself, gave the word for all to In a few moments the street door opened, and up
-'% t - I", -





wt M. B t to te si



they al payed with, a ill e let te ater r t and hs mohe. ell, ts sa














run from both of the faucets into the bath tub, so party-put up your work, my dear, and come iup
that after a while some could fill at the faucets, and to the library-I've something to tell you and
some could dip out of the tub. Mother. Ho ho here's baby awake. Well, we
Up and down, down and up, the laughing must take him up, too."
children went, panting and puffing, filling and Baby shouted with delight to find himself in
pouring, bucketful, pailful, pitcherful, basinful, Papa's arms. Mrs. Brant put down her work,
crockful, over and over again, till at last the pond Grandma took her crochet-basket in her hand,
Ar
S'' '" "-
;:, ... i-- -; '










room for water. Ruth gave a pitcher to Jamie, time--" mighty queer how long it takes the thing






a basin to show in earnest.erbe a tub to Wilbur seized an old and they all went up on fellows Don'tpleasant lib-stop
a big earthen jar for herself, gave the word for all to In a few moments the street door opened, and up
follow went Mr. Brant to the sewing-room
It was hard work, but it passed for play, and "How dy'e do, how dy'e do ?" said he, kissing
they all played with a will. They let the water Mrs. Brant and his mother. "'Well, this isa busy
run from both of the faucets into the bath tub, so party--put up your work, my dear, and come up




that after a while some could fill and had as mucts, as rary on the lbrary-I'ove something to tell you and
some could dip out ofwatch the clay bank, and mend "Well, my dear, what is baitawake. Welgood news,
Up and down, down and up, the laughing must take him up, too."
.children went, panting and puffing, filling and Baby shouted with delight to find himself in
pouring, bucketful, pailful, pitcherful, basinful, Papa's arms. Mrs. Brant put down her work,
crockful, over and over again, till at last the pond Grandma took her crochet-basket in her hand,
began to show in earnest. Wilbur seized an old and they all went up to Papa's light, pleasant lib-
spade out of a broken cradle, and had as much as rary on the floor above.
he could do to watch the clay bank, and mend "Well, my dear, what is it ? Some good news,







132 A GARRET ADVENTURE. [JANUARY.

I'm sure," said Mrs. Brant, as Grandma nestled in Betsy! we must empty this as quickly as pos-
her easy chair, and Papa putting baby on the floor sible."
with a kiss, proceeded to place a chair for himself He was at the little window by this time empty-
between his wife and mother. ing the pail. The children took the hint and
Yes it is good news, dear, I'm happy to say," opening the other window, went to work as hard as
lie answered, with a bright smile. I don't know they could, and with beating hearts emptied the
when I've had anything so pleasant to--Holloa, pond in a quarter of the time it had taken to fill it.
what the mischief's the matter ?" Mrs. Brant, Grandma, and Betsy came up, too,
They started up. Surely enough, something was and did wonders with towels, sheets and every
the matter. It was raining! A shower was coming thing they could lay their hands on. In her ex-
down on their heads, the ceiling was cracking, the citement Mrs. Brant came near wiping the floor
baby screaming. Patter, patter came the water, with the baby.


















Master and faster. What could it be ? Perhaps The worst was soon over, but it seemed the
a y wth ther h I
6! i' ,

,,

























Grandmother scream as she rushed to the baby's blotches and cracked and whimpered as if it were
rescue. Mr. Brant dashed up the stairs, aost a Fortunately, the bookcases escaped ettg,









knocking down Dot and Rob on the way. and the carpet didn't run," as Grandma said; so
"What's going on up here? Quick where it might have been worse.
s the water come fom But those six visitors-who shall describe their








No need of asking the question. There were emotions As one of them afterwards said, they
the pond, the startled faces of the children, the were frightened to death and bursting with laugh-
pitchers, basins, and pails. ter. They all tried to hide behind each other when
"hat in the world !" cried the father, seizing Mr. rant, half angry, half amused asked them
k Inocking_ 'down Dot 'an R' a h,',,," a n i






























a pail and scooping up as much as he could from what they would like to do next.
the pond. "ere, lend a hand all of you! Call Go home, sir, I nuess," said Tommy.
e ,d I H! Cl o h" sa



_2 ,I, ,'', '1 V, ,
!-_=---a-_-:: ,,,
,- ." - ': "" :- -"
.. r- :. -- l. -


















the pond. Hecre, lend a hand all of you Call Go home, sir, I guess," said Tommy.








r874.1 IS TI-E WORLD ROUND 13



IS THE WORLD ROUND?

BY JOHN W. PRESTON.

M'AMMA," said Johnny, one day, as he stood woods; for you would have gone all around the
by the sea-side with his mother, and was looking earth, just as the fly would have walked all around
over the broad surface of the ocean, mamma, do the orange, and come back to the place he started
you see that place, away over yonder, where the from. Do you understand that ?"
ocean stops and the sky begins?" Oh, yes, mamma, I understand that; but when
"Yes," replied his mother; "that is called the I got on the other side, I should fall off, I know I
horizon." should."
Well, mamma, why don't the water all run off, Fall off from what?"
in that place, I don't see any land to stop it?" "Why, from the earth, mamma," said Johnny.
"Why, Johnny, there is no place there for it to You forget that I told you that if you were
run off. If you were there you would find it quite to go out to the place where the ocean and sky seem
as flat and level as it is here, and the horizon just to meet, it would seem all level and flat, just as it
as far away as it seems to be now." does here,-the earth under your feet and the sky
I don't see how that can be, mamma, isn't there overhead, and so it would be wherever you went
any place where the world comes to an end, and if you fell off, you would have to fall up into the
'everything stops ?" sky, and that, you know, is impossible."
"Take this orange, my son, and tell me where Well, but mamma, when I got just half around
it comes to an end, as you say," said Mrs. Watson, the earth, wouldn't I be walking with my head
taking a fine specimen of that fruit from her pocket. down and my feet up, and what could keep me
Johnny took the orange in his hand, looked it from falling off? I couldn't stick on with my feet.
carefully all over, casting his eyes, every now and could I ?"
then, out upon the ocean, and along the horizon, "Which way is up, Johnny?"
as if in deep thought, which was, indeed, pretty "Why, up is right up here, overhead, up in the
deep thought for a little boy seven years old, and sky !"
at length, said: Well, which way is down ?"
I remember, mamma, the geography says that Down is right here, under my feet."
the earth is round; but I did not know for certain Towards the earth, is it not?"
that the earth means just the land and water that "Yes, mamma."
we live on. But is it round like this orange ?" "Well, now, suppose you are going around the
"Yes, my little boy; all this land and water is earth, wherever you go and wherever you are, up
the earth, and it is round like that orange; and if is overhead, or towards the sky; and down is
you were to get into a ship and sail right straight always under foot, or towards the earth; is not that
out there, to the east,-about where the sun comes so?"
up in the morning,-you would have to go three or "Yes, mamma."
four thousand miles on the ocean, just as a fly would "Now, suppose again, you had got half around
crawl on that orange, before you came to land again, the earth, and were in China, and I was standing
All that water would be the Atlantic Ocean, and right here, your feet and my feet would be pointing
the land you would come to would be the continent towards each other, and our heads away from each
of Europe. And then, if you kept on going directly other. Both of our heads would be pointing to-
east,-traveling over Europe and the continent next wards the sky. If you fell, you would fall towards
to it, Asia,-several thousand miles, you would the ground; and if I fell, I should fall towards the
come to another ocean, much larger than the Atlan- ground; so that we neither of us should fall of, as
tic, called the Pacific Ocean. After crossing the you fear. Now, do you understand it?"
Pacific, you would come to the western side of the Johnny hesitated a little, and then said, very
American continent, where Oregon and California slowly: "I think it must be just as you say, mam-
are, you know,-where Uncle John went last year; ma; I understand it a little. I shall understand it
and if you continued on traveling east, you would better when I get older, I guess."
come, at last, to this very same spot, where we are The truth is, that the little boy was puzzled, as
now standing, only you would come up behind us; most little boys and girls are on this very subject.
and if I were standing here alone, looking for you, He saw that his mother's reasoning was correct,
I should have my face turned away towards the and felt the justness of the conclusion; but could







134 IS THE WORLD ROUND [JANUARY,

nation, and with an air of triumph,
'[' i 'l''i you said the earth was round, just
I,;''t1~"III .,' ''i f like this orange; now, that can't be,
.' I' because, look at those high hills over
l ''''' there, and then there are great big
mountains on the earth, and how can
'tit be round, then?"
.1 '" .- ,- I''" ; "'Well, and why can it not be
SI.', '' .. ''' I'ii round, even if there are hills and
I,.' mountains on it?"
'' "Why, look here, mamma; this.
S,, orange is round and smooth, and
even."
'' W ''." Is it really quite smooth, Johnny? "
S ,i ''" All but these little bits of bumps
.. ";!'* rand pimples on its skin," said John-
.', t ny, turning the orange over in his
.hand.
,''l Oh, ho little bits of bumps and
'pimples, are they, Master Johnny?
what should you think, if I were to
i ',,. tell you that those little elevations
., were really very large and lofty mount-
'' ,, i .. .. .i' ains on the surface of the orange ?"
'' 'i ,'"'i Oh! but mamma, you are fun-
,, 'ning now," said Johnny, with a little
,! '' bit of a sneer.
I" ~[''' "1 ,'i, ,, '. 'ii "W hat mountain do you remem-
II ber to have seen, my little man?"
said his mother.
S'1 "Why, didn't we go up Mt. Hol-
S,' yoke, last summer, with papa and
,". -, Aunt Jane! That is a pretty high
i '* '' i'' mountain, I guess, mamma."
li', .. "It seemed so to you, my son, I
'. ,'. have no doubt; but compared with
',;,' other mountains in our own country,
'i, t is a very small affair,-quite a
I:. I baby mountain, though a very beau-
i !. : '. tiful one."
Li'' ', {. "' Oh, yes, mamma, my geography
r'' l. :lesson said that the highest mount-
ains are in Asia, and that they are
-' '-' five miles high."
.':', ,, .. "Yes; nearer five and a-half miles
,' ''' '.. than five miles," said his mother.
S" '' ., "" The highest peak of the Himalaya
'.1!. I Mountains, in the central part of
..!,, Asia, is more than 29,000 feet high,
.,, 1 I ,.','.1: ..,i..' '* ..... I while little Holyoke is only i,ooo feet
'"' 'II 1 'I' P' :' .,'i l : 'l'li '', ,' high; so that the great Asiatic mount-
',I '" 'i would be higher than twenty-nine
L. '.',' ..,i i ,' ill"','.. i.lil lll iiii M ount H olyokes piled on the top of
each other."
not at once free his mind from old ideas about up "Whew I" said Johnny. Well, then, mamma,
and down, of course the earth can't be round like this orange,
"But, mamma," said Johnny, with renewed ani- if it has such great big mountains on it?"








1874- IS THE WORLD ROUND? 135'

You remind me, Johnny, of a little Swiss boy, you would find, if you tried it, that the height of
who lived in the valley among the lofty mountains one of those little pimples would not vary much
called the Alps,. the highest in Europe. He was from a hundredth part of aninch above the level of
puzzled, just as you are. He had never seen any- the orange. Now, suppose, as we have said, that
thing beyond his little valley between the high the diameter of the orange is three inches, and the
ridges of the mountain ranges, and he could not height of the little bump is one hundredth of an
conceive how the earth could be round like a ball. inch, then the diameter of the orange is three
I think there was some excuse for a little boy in his hundred times the height of the pimple. Is not
situation, much more than if he had traveled many that so ? "
hundred miles over hills and plains, and had seen Of course, mamma, if it takes one hundred of
the broad ocean's expanse; don't you think so, those little bumps to make a bump one inch high,
Johnny?" it will take three hundred of them to go through
"I suppose so, mamma," said he, hanging his the orange."
head, as though he felt that he was the little boy That is exactly the idea, Johnny, though I do
who had traveled and ought to know better. "But not think you use the most accurate language in
I pity the little mountain boy, who never saw the expressing it. And now let us take the case of the
ocean," he added. mountain and the earth. We will say that the
Johnny's eyes were fixed upon the distant hori- earth is pretty nearly 8,000 miles in diameter, that.
zon, where the dark clouds were already gathering is, through it, and that the mountain in Asia, that
and seeming to shut down upon the rolling sea. we spoke of, is five and a-half miles high. Now,
It would not be wonderful if the little boy were how many times greater is the earth's diameter
making a tour around the world in his imagination, than the mountain's height ? "
And now," said his mother, "let us see what a "How many, mamma?"
little sober arithmetic can do for us. Let us see "Well, not to be exact, Johnny, it is more than
how the earth can be round as an orange, and yet 1,400 times as large."
have the great big mountains that you speak of "Why, mamma -would it take more than
upon it. Do you know how long an inch is? 1,400 of these big mountains to reach through the
Twelve inches make one foot," replied Johnny, earth ? "
promptly. It would take the height of more than 1,400
Yes, but how long is an inch ? such mountains, all added together, to equal the
He did not exactly know, but thought they could diameter of the earth."
guess pretty pear it. And it took only 300 of the little bumps on the
'"Well, we'll try," said his mother, it is about orange skin to make the diameter of the orange,"
an inch from the end of my thumb nail to the said Johnny, after a moment's pause.
nearest joint of my thumb, where it bends,-that You are correct, my son; and now which is the
is near enough for our present purpose. Now let higher in proportion, the pimple on the orange or
us see how many inches this orange is through, the mountain on the earth ? "
in the widest part. I should say it was about three Why, the pimple on the orange."
inches in diameter, what should you say ?" Yes, almost five times as high,; so that if this
I guess that is pretty near it." orange should suddenly become as large as the
"That is not guessing, Johnny, that is calculat- earth, those little bumps would be as high as five
ing or reckoning. We will call it three inches, of these Himalaya mountains piled on the top of
then. Now let us fix our eyes on one of those little each other. What a prodigiously high mountain
bumps or pimples on the orange, and make an must that little bump be to some speck of a being
estimate of its height. How high should you think that may be looking up at its dim and distant sum-
it was?" mit from the valley at its foot. And now do you
Why, mamma, how can I tell that ? I should see how the earth may be round, like the orange,
think it would take a hundred of them, piled on even if it has high mountains on it ?"
top of each other, to make an inch high." "Oh! yes, -mamma, I can understand that,"'
"Well, my little boy, I think you have made a he replied, with a sigh of relief, and now can't.
very good guess this time; for I am quite sure we eat the orange ?"

[The illustration to this article is taken from Guyot's admirable" Intermediate Geography," published by Scribner, Armstrong & Co., N. Y.



-----~~---*






136 THE STORY OF THE JOLLY HARPER MAN. [JANUARY,



THE HIDDEN RILL.
(Translated from the Spanish.)

BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

ACROSS a pleasant field, a rill unseen
Steals from a fountain, nor does aught betray
Its presence, save a tint of livelier green,
And flowers that scent the air along its way.
Thus secretly should charity attend
Those who in want's dim chambers pine and grieve;
And nought should e'er reveal the aid we lend,
Save the glad looks our kindly visits leave.








THE STORY OF THE JOLLY HARPER MAN AND
HIS GOOD FORTUNE.

BY H. BUTTERWORTH.

There was a jolly harper man,
That harpit aye frae toun tae toun."
-Old Ballad.
MANY, many years ago-as long ago as the days the most charming player in all the world. The
of Fair Rosamond-when Henry Plantagenet and children followed him in crowds through the streets,
his unruly family governed England, there lived in nor could they be stopped while he continued play-
Scotland, a jolly harper man, who was accounted ing; even the animals in the woods stood on their
haunches to listen, when he wandered harping
S through the country; and the fair daughters of the
'',nobles immediately fell ih love as often as he ap-
-proached their castles.
S All the players and singers in the known world
.cv :. : never accomplished anything equal to the music of
S ,, -.' ,the jolly harper man.
A King Henry had a wonderful horse-a very won-
.' derful horse-named Brownie. He did not quite
equal in dexterity and intelligence the high-flying
animal of whom you have read in the "Arabian
..- Night's," but he knew a great deal, and was a sort
S '''"-, -' !"- of philosopher among horses-just as Newton was
S. .a philosopher among men. King Henry said he
'5. : ,- A ,f -:.. would not part with him for a province,-he would
"-, ._ rather lose his crown. In this he was wise, for a
new crown could have been as easily made as a stew-

I ,. .'' another intelligent horse.
-', -' '' King Henry had fine stables built for the animal
'- -a sort of horse palace. They were very strong,
and were fastened by locks, and bars and bolts, and






136 THE STORY OF THE JOLLY HARPER MAN. [JANUARY,



THE HIDDEN RILL.
(Translated from the Spanish.)

BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

ACROSS a pleasant field, a rill unseen
Steals from a fountain, nor does aught betray
Its presence, save a tint of livelier green,
And flowers that scent the air along its way.
Thus secretly should charity attend
Those who in want's dim chambers pine and grieve;
And nought should e'er reveal the aid we lend,
Save the glad looks our kindly visits leave.








THE STORY OF THE JOLLY HARPER MAN AND
HIS GOOD FORTUNE.

BY H. BUTTERWORTH.

There was a jolly harper man,
That harpit aye frae toun tae toun."
-Old Ballad.
MANY, many years ago-as long ago as the days the most charming player in all the world. The
of Fair Rosamond-when Henry Plantagenet and children followed him in crowds through the streets,
his unruly family governed England, there lived in nor could they be stopped while he continued play-
Scotland, a jolly harper man, who was accounted ing; even the animals in the woods stood on their
haunches to listen, when he wandered harping
S through the country; and the fair daughters of the
'',nobles immediately fell ih love as often as he ap-
-proached their castles.
S All the players and singers in the known world
.cv :. : never accomplished anything equal to the music of
S ,, -.' ,the jolly harper man.
A King Henry had a wonderful horse-a very won-
.' derful horse-named Brownie. He did not quite
equal in dexterity and intelligence the high-flying
animal of whom you have read in the "Arabian
..- Night's," but he knew a great deal, and was a sort
S '''"-, -' !"- of philosopher among horses-just as Newton was
S. .a philosopher among men. King Henry said he
'5. : ,- A ,f -:.. would not part with him for a province,-he would
"-, ._ rather lose his crown. In this he was wise, for a
new crown could have been as easily made as a stew-

I ,. .'' another intelligent horse.
-', -' '' King Henry had fine stables built for the animal
'- -a sort of horse palace. They were very strong,
and were fastened by locks, and bars and bolts, and








,874.] THE JOLLY HARPER MAN. 137

were kept by gay grooms, and guarded day and
night by soldiers, who never had been known to fal-
ter in their devotion to the interests of the king..
So strongly was the animal guarded, that it came -
to be a proverb among the English yeomanry, that ;
a person could no more do this or that hard thing, .. .
than they could steal Brownie from the stables of v
the king."
The king liked the proverb; it was a compliment
to his wisdom and sagacity. It made him feel good,
-so good, in fact, that it led him one day to quite -
overshoot the mark in an effort that he made to in-
,crease the people's high opinion.
"If any one," said he, after a good dinner,-" if -- -
any one were smart enough to get Brownie out of .
his stables without my knowledge, I would, for his I '.
cleverness, forgive him, and give him an estate to r
return the animal." Then he looked very wise, --. r -
and felt very comfortable and very secure. "But," r "- '
he added, "evil overtake the man who gets caught .. -t-- -
in an attempt to steal my horse. Lucky will it be --
for him if his eyes ever see the light of the English '.
sun again." SO THE OLD HERMIT CAME DOWN THE HILL.
Then the report went abroad that the man who
would be so shrewd as to get possession of the king's the nobles, especially on festive occasions; and as
horse, should have an estate, but that he who failed he contrasted the luxurious living of these fat lords
in the attempt should lose his head. with his own poverty, he became suddenly seized
The English court, at this time, was at Carlisle, with a desire for wealth, and he remembered the
near the Scottish border. The jolly harper man proverb, which was old, even then, that "Where
lived in the old town of Striveling, since called Stir- there is a will there is a way."
ling, at some distance from the border. One autumn day, as he was traveling along the
The jolly harper man, like most people of genius, borders of Loch Lomond, a famous lake in the
was very poor. He often played in the castles of middle of Scotland, he remembered that there was
a cave overlooking the lake from a thickly wooded
hill, in which dwelt a hermit, who often was con-
suited by people in perplexity, and who bore the
name of the Man of Wisdom.
He was not a wicked magician, nor did he pre-
,' .tend to have any dealings with the dead. He was
S- gifted only with what was called clearness of vision;
1 he could see into the secret of things, just as Zerah
S' '_ Colburn could see into difficult problems of mathe-
S_ matics, without study. Things that were darkness
'' to others were as clear as sunlight to him. He
''_l F .- lived on roots and herbs, and flourished so wonder-
S-t' 'fully on the diet, that what he didn't know was
S" i ''considered not worth knowing.
S' : '' It was near nightfall when the jolly harper man
S l l came to the famous hill. The sun was going down
i in splendor, and the moon was coming up, faint and
shadowy, and turning into gold as the shadows
deepened. Showers of silver began to fall on Loch
Lomond, and to quiver over the valleys. It was
S'.' an hour to fill a minstrel's heart with romantic
feeling, and it lent its witchery to the heart of the
jolly harper man.
THEII OI'IIECY TO SIR ROGER AND SIR CHARLES. He wandered up the hill, overlooking the lake,
VOL. I.-9.







138 THE JOLLY HARPER MAN. [JANUARY,

where dwelt the Man of Wisdom, to whose mind is my dominion, and the dominion of a hermit is.
all things were clear. He sat down near the mouth solitude."
of the cave, partook of his evening meal, then, See you not Loch Lomond silvered in the
seizing his harp, began to play. moon?" said the jolly harper man. "Nature in-
He played a tune of wonderful sweetness and spired me to touch my harp, and I love to play
sadness, so soft and airy that the notes seemed to when the inspiration of nature comes upon me."
glide down the moonbeams, like the tinkling of The answer pleased the hermit as much as the
fairy bells in the air. The wicked owl pricked up music.
his ears to listen, and was so overcome that he But why is your music so sad, my good harper
wished he was a more respectable bird. The little man ; what is there that you would have that for-
animals came out of the bushes, and formed a cir- tune denies?"
cle around the jolly harper man, as though en- "Alas!" said the jolly harper man, "I am very
chanted. poor. My harpings all die in the air, and leave me
The old hermit heard the strain, and came out but a scanty purse, poor clothing, and no roof over
to listen, and, because he had clearness of vision, my head. You are a man of wisdom, to whom all
he knew that music of such wonderful tenderness things are clear. Point out to me the way to for-
could be produced only by one who had great gifts tune, my wise hermit. I have a good liberal
of nature, and who also had some secret longing heart; you could not do a service to a more de-
in his heart. serving man."
So he came down the hill to the jolly harper man, The old hermit sat down on a stone in silence,
walking with his cane, his gray beard falling over resting his chin on his staff. He seemed lost in
his bosom, and his long white hair silvered in the profound thought. At last he looked up, and said
moonlight, slowly, pausing between each sentence-
The jolly harper man secretly expected him, or "Beyond the border there is a famous country;
at least he hoped that he would come out. Like the in that country there is a palace; near the palace
Queen of Sheba, he wished to test the wisdom of there is a stable, and in that stable there is a stately
this new Solomon, and to enquire of him if there horse. That horse is the pride of the kingdom;
were no way of turning his wonderful musical genius the man who would get possession of that horse,
into bags of gold. without the king's knowledge, might exchange him
for a province."
"Wonderful! wonderful! But-"
,- "Near Striveling town there is a hill; on the
S.hillside is a lot; in the lot is a fine gray mare, and
Beside the gray mare is a foal."
.& s- "Yes, yes wonderful! but-"
S" I must now reveal to you one of the secrets of na-
ture. Separate that mare from the foal, though it
S. be for hundreds of miles, and, as soon as she is
S free, she will return to her foal again. Nature has
"' i j' taught her how, just as she teaches the birds of
passage the way to sunny islands; or the dog to
S' '- -i find the lost hunter; or-"
S,.- -.. "Yes, yes; all very wonderful, but-"
., "In your hand you carry a harp; in the harp
; K lies the power to make merry; a merry king makes
\ a festive board, and festivity produces deep sleep
in the morning hours."
.I ,- I The jolly harper man saw it all in a twinkling;
S' i' i the way to fortune lay before him clear as sun-
S ', light. Perhaps you, my young reader, do not get
the idea so suddenly. If not, I fear you are not
JOLLY HARPER AN R FORTHgifted like the good hermit, with Clearness of
THE JOLLY HARPER MAN RIDES FORTH.
Vision.
"Why do you wander here, my good harper? The jolly harper man returned to Striveling the
asked the hermit, when the last strain melted away next day, after spending the night with the hermit,
in low, airy echoes over the lake. "There are on the borders of Loch Lomond.
neither lads to dance nor lassies to sing. This hill The following night he was summoned to play








1874.J THE JOLLY HARPER MAN. 139

before two famous Scottish knights, Sir Charles and The jolly harper man, accompanied by a gay
Sir Roger. They were very valiant, very rich and, groom, then took his horse to the stables, and as
when put into good humor, were very liberal, soon as he came out of the stable-door, struck up
The jolly harper man played merrily. The great his most lively and bewitching tune.
hall of the castle seemed full of larks, nightingales,
elves and fairies. ,. i1i il .
"Why, man," said Sir Roger to Sir Charles,' --'-.'
in a mellow mood, you and I could no more harp *-
like that than we could gallop out of Carlisle on the I
horse of the king." "'" "" S
"Let me make a prophecy," said the jolly harper
man at this. I will one day ride into Carlisle on .,'-'y '?i 1
the horse of the king, and will exchange the horse .
for an estate."
"And I will add to the estate five ploughs of h'i -
land," said Sir Roger; "so you never shall lack for :
a home in old Scotland."
And I will add to the five ploughs of land, five "'
thousand pounds," said Sir Charles; "so that you :
shall never lack for good cheer." '
The next morning the jolly harper man was seen '
riding out of Striveling town on a fine gray mare; i
but a little colt was heard whinnying alone in the -
high fenced lot on the side of the hill. .
It had been a day of high festival at Carlisle; it \ai -
was now the cool of the summer eve; the horn of- .- "
the returning hunter was heard in the forest, andCOM IN COME PER MAN.
0.COMlE IN COMIE IN, MiY HARPER MAN.'"
gaily plumed knights and courtiers were seen ap-
proaching the illuminated palace, urging their steeds The grooms all followed him, and the guards fol-
along the banks of the river Eden, that wound lowed the grooms. The servants all came flocking
through the moonlit landscape like a ribbon of sil- into the hall as the jolly harper man entered, and
ver. the king's heart grew so merry, that all who came
The feast was at its height. The king's heart was were made welcome, and given good cheer.
merry. There only needed some novelty, now that The small hours of night came at last, and the
the old diversions had come to an end, to complete grand people in the hall began to yawn one after
the delights of the festive hours, another. The jolly harper man now played a very
Suddenly sweet sounds, as of a tuning harp, soothing melody. The king began to yawn, open-
were heard without the palace. Then music of ing his mouth each time a little wider than before,
marvelous sweetness seemed to fill the air. The and finally he dozed off in his chair, his head
windows and doors of the palace were thrown open. tilted back, and his mouth stretched almost from
The king himself left the table, and stood listening ear to ear. The fat nobles, too, began to snore.
on the balcony. First the king snored, and then the nobles, which
A merry tune followed the airy prelude; it made was a very proper way of doing the thing, the bliss-
the nerves of the old nobles tingle as though they ful sound passing from nose to nose, and making a
were young again; and, as for the king, his heart circuit of the tables.
began to dance within him. The guards, grooms and servants began to feel
"Come in come in, my harper man," shouted very comfortable, indeed, and though it was their
the king, shaking his sides with laughter, and pat- business to keep awake, their eyelids grew very
ting a fat noble on the shoulder with delight, heavy, and they began to reason that it would be
"Come in, and let us hear some more of your perfectly safe to doze while their masters were
harping." sleeping. Who ever knew any mischief to happen
The jolly harper man bowed very low. I shall when everybody was asleep ?
be glad to serve your grace, but first, give me The jolly harper man now played his dreamiest
stabling for my good gray mare." music, and just as the cock crew for the first time
Take the animal to my best stables," said the in the morning, he had the satisfaction of seeing
king. "'Tis there I keep my Brownie, the finest the last lackey fall asleep. He then blew out the
horse in all the land." lights, and crept nimbly forth to the stables. He







140 IS N'T IT SO? [JANUARY,

found the stable door unlocked, and the gray mare laugh of scorn. "The man does not live who
kicking impatiently about, and whinnying for her could ride away the king's Brownie! Go to!"
foal. The king's Brownie stands in your own court!"
Now, what do you suppose the jolly harper man cried the jolly harper man, and Sir Roger and
did ? Guess, if you have Clearness of Vision. IHe
took from his pocket a stout string, and tied the .
halter of the king's horse, the finest in all the '-
land, to the halter of his own animal, and patting 'r.,
the fine gray mare on her side said: And now ,
go home to your foal."
The next morning all was consternation in the' 'C ."
palace. The king's horse was gone. The king '.
sent for the jolly harper man, and said- ;
"My horse has escaped out of the stables, the.
finest animal in all the land!" .- -" -
"And where is my fine gray mare?" asked the 1 '
jolly harper man.
Gone, too," said the king. I' 'K
I will tell you what I think," said the jolly i '' *
harper man, with wonderful confidence. I -
think that there has been a rogue in the town.". '
The king, with equal wisdom, favored the idea, : '-' i
and the jolly harper man made an early escape that '".
morning from the palace.' / y
Then the jolly harper man went as fast as he
could to Striveling; of course, he found his fine '
gray mare in the lot with her foal, and the king's GO TO GO TO SIR ROGER CRIED.
horse tied to her halter; and, of course, he rode
the noble animal into Carlisle; and he, presenting Sir Charles paid their forfeits without another
himself before the two knights, Sir Roger and Sir word.
Charles, claimed his five ploughs of land and five Then the jolly harper man returned the king's
thousand pounds, horse to the royal owner-and who ever heard of
Go to! go to!" cried Sir Roger, pointing at such a thing as a king breaking his promise ? Not
him in derision; and Sir Charles laughed a mighty the jolly harper man, you may be sure.







IS N'T IT SO?

HARK! hark! O my children, hark!
When the sky has lost its blue
What do the stars sing, in the dark?
"We must sparkle, sparkle, through."

What do leaves say in the storm,
Tossed, in whispering heaps, together ?
"We can keep the violets warm
'Till they wake in fairer weather."

What do happy birdies say,
Flitting through the gloomy wood ?
"We must sing the gloom away-
Sun or shadow, God is good."








1874.] WHAT THE CHRIST-CHILD BROUGHT. 141




WHAT THE CHRIST-CHILD BROUGHT.
_A ('/irsi/za, Stary.

BY M. LOCKWOOD.

IF any of you, my little readers, could have "Yes, yes! mother," cried Paul, "and I am
peeped, in fairy-tale fashion, into the third floor all ready to go."
windows of No. 70 Oppenheimer Strasse, in Ber- The Heyses will be so pleased," cried little
lin, very early on the morning of December 24th, Olga, and all the children expressed delight at
1870, you would have been astonished at the stir their mother's suggestion, but it was some time
and excitement of the orderly little household, before the plan was fully laid out, made, and
Notwithstanding .the bitter cold, the children were each one had handed to the mother, out of his or
dressed and stirring before the sun was fairly risen, her little store, the money for the purchase of the
Soon, Frau Hoffmann, the gentle housemother, gifts. In the meantime, Paul darted off for his fur
quieting the laughing children, gathered her flock cap and gloves, and after whispering a little plan
around the breakfast table, and after Fritzel, the of his own into his mother's ear, and getting her
youngest, had said grace, the children began to nod of approval, started on his way to the Jahr-
cat, more from a sense of duty than from any market. This Christmas Jahrmarkt was a familiar
desire for breakfast, on this particular morning, place to the young Hoffmanns, and would, I am
"I have so much on my mind," said twelve-year- sure, be greatly enjoyed by American children, with
old Paul, and with an air of importance, "that I holiday money in their pockets. What a splendid
have hardly time to eat. With your permission, place! A great city square, or market, as it is
good little mother, I will slip a bit in my pocket called, is filled with streets and streets of temporary
to satisfy myself in case I feel hungry. Let me booths; here every imaginable Christmas ware is
sec: I have several purchases to make, an engage- sold, from the small forests of Christmas trees in
mcnt to go skating, then the poem I am to recite the corners of the square-great, stately cedars
to papa, and-" and spruces, as well as the twig boughs fastened to
Gently, my Paul," said the mother. There cross bits of wood hardly big enough to bear the
is abundance of time for all, and while you are eat- weight of half a dozen gilt nuts and apples-down
ing-for a good breakfast is needed with such a long to the glass balls and gay tapers, and funny little
day's work before you-I will explain what I would Knecht Ruprechts," made of dried prunes, stuck
have you do for me." on cross sticks, in rude representation of a man.
Ah," said a fair-haired maiden of fourteen One of these is always placed on the Christmas tree
years, the eldest daughter of the house, how -on the gayest as well as on the humblest.
little we thought our Christmas would be so happy, There are little shows in some of the booths, where
when dear papa went to the war last summer, for a few groschen one can see wonderful and
How thankful we should feel that he is coming delightful things-puppets and dioramas, or even
home, since so many poor children in Berlin are dwarfs and giants.
without any father to-day," and tears of pity came One can hardly imagine a German child's Christ-
into her innocent blue eyes, as she thought of the mas complete without this charming Jahrmarkt.
thousands of orphans made by the cruel war then It is like fairy-land for two weeks, in the brown old
raging beyond the Rhine. square, so dull for the rest of the year, so bewilder-
Children," said the mother, "we have, indeed, ing now with its lines of glittering booths, tempting
cause to be thankful, and we ought to show our in their display of treasures, all soon to vanish back
thankfulness by deeds, not by words only; so I to Knecht Ruprecht's kingdom, to be kept safe
think, if you all agree, we will take a portion of there for another year.
our Christmas money, instead of spending it on One might easily mistake those comical, weazened
our bon-bons and cakes, and buy a little tree, with little men, who keep the booths, in their shaggy
nuts, and apples, and tapers, for the poor Heyses, coats and old fur caps, for servants of the jolly
in the next street. Paul shall go now for it, and Christmas elf-the Christ-child's messenger; and,
carry it to their mother's, if you consent. Then as the legends say, dispenser of his bounty. Knecht
each of my little girls and Fritzel may choose a Ruprecht is none other than our Kriss Kringle or
child to whom you would like to send something, Santa Claus, not much changed for the worst, as he
and Olga and I will carry it, in your names." crosses the Western seas, nor much less in favor







142 WHAT THE CHRIST-CHILD BROUGHT. [JANUARY,

with our young folks at home than with the little worse, the impossibility of going to him in a hostile
fair-haired Germans. country, and the dread of his exposure to greater
Paul knew just where to buyhis modest little tree, dangers, and, at last, the intense sense of relief
with its ornaments, and added, with his own money, when a letter came from himself, written in the hos-
a generous package of the biggest and sweetest pital at Versailles, to which he had been removed,
bon-bons he could find in the market. telling them that he had obtained a furlough for
Finally, laden with his bounty, the little messen- Christmas, and leave to remain at home until fully
ger of the Christ-child-for such, on these occasions, restored and capable of taking his place in the ranks
he had been taught to consider himself-started for again. Hence the joy to-day, and the glad prepar-
the Heyses' humble dwelling, to be gladly welcomed nations.
by little ones whom the bountiful Christ-child visit- At ten o'clock, the mother, having set everything
ed in no other open, visible way. in readiness for the happy evening, even to the trays
Meanwhile, at home, the children had retreated of supper refreshments in the store-room, and the
into private corners, each busy and mysterious torch laid ready by the tree to light the tapers withal,
over Christmas preparations. Eight-years-old 01- came into the dwelling-room cloaked and wrapped
ga, behind the big porcelain stove in the dwell- in furs. "I must go out for an hour or so, dear
ing room, was straining her pretty brown eyes over children," she said; "be good, and obey sister
a beautiful smoking cap, which must be finished Gretel, while I am gone."
before dinner, and ready to go on Papa's gift table. "Thou goest to bring the dear father,-is it not
These little German maidens are wonderfully skillful so, Miitterchen ?" And Fritzel hung to her skirts,
with the needle. Carlotta was knitting away in and pulled the tassels of her muff.
another corner-her tiny fingers plying with aston- Wise little Carlotta, who had jumped up hastily,
fishing deftness, as the bright needles glittered and held her hands behind her, full of knitting
through the scarlet worsted, work, tossed back her mass of flaxen hair, and broke
Her present was for Mamma, who must not see in with "Ach nein, thou foolish Fritzel, the father
it on any account. Even Fritzel was desperately comes only after dinner." Mother kissed the little
busy with something, which nobody in the world boy's earnest, dimpled face, and went out, laughing
must guess anything about, while the mother and softly to herself in the happiness of her heart, while
Gretchen, the fair-haired speaker at breakfast, had Olga, who had hardly got through with her work in
retired into the salon, where they were, oh! so busy time, hurried after her, drawing on warm mittens
with a wonderful Christmas tree, which everyone as she went half a flight behind Frau Hoffmann all
knew was locked up in the silent, dark room, though the way down stairs. They were much alike, this
nobody mentioned the fact, except in whispers. mother and little daughter, and the mother was
The father of this happy little band, a professor little and young looking too, seeing that she had
at the Polytechnic School, had gone with the army the responsibility of so many children on her shoul-
in July, on its march to the Rhine. He was a pri- ders; right motherly, though, dear little soul, with
vate in the gallant Kdnigin Elizabeth Regiment, of a firm way about her, in spite of her lovely brown
the army corps in which he had served out his time eyes and gentle looks.
in his youth, and in which he had now enlisted. "Bless the dear heaven who is bringing my
With a heavy heart, but with a brave, cheerful face, Fritz back to me she thought. I do wonder if
the gentle little wife bade him God-speed, while she he will think the children much improved she
remained behind with their helpless flock, depend- mused for, at least, the hundredth time in her fond
ent on her care alone. It was very hard; but she mother's heart. Our Gretchen is such a woman,
was a true-hearted little patriot, so did not falter, and a real comfort, and Paul has been truly a good
but bore up nobly, even when, with her own fingers, boy while the dear father has been away. Then
she sewed the little label to the lining of his uniform Fritzel, and Carlotta and my Olga,"-smiling, and
coat, on which she had carefully written his name holding out her hand to the little girl, who, laden
and address, so that he might be known in any case with a basket, now joined her, and the sweet moth-
of fatal accident, erly eyes filled with happy tears as she named over
All through the summer, however, the news was her treasures.
so bright, so glorious, that the loving little house- They presently entered a mean-looking door,
hold of Fritz Hoffmann forgot the danger, and only and went up flight after flight of stairs to the rooms
exulted that their dear one was destined to share of some of their pensioners. To one poor soldier's
the laurels of the conquering hosts, until the news family after another the two went like Christmas
came of the victory at Sedan, and with it the fa- angels, leaving gifts for the little ones who had no
their's name on the list of wounded. Then followed father on earth, this Christmas-day, and comforting
long days of suspense, and the fear of something more than one mother's heart with reminders of








3874.] WHAT THE CHRIST-CHILD BROUGHT. 143


the dear Father in heaven, who cares for the widow old sorrow, but a sorrow that would always endure,
and orphans, raising up for them friends in the bit- the bitterness of death, which should never be over-
ter hour of need. The round of visits was com- past. She raised her pitiful, sad eyes to the good
pleted, and near noon, Olga was despatched home old professor's face, and only said in a dreamy, far-
with an important message to old Christel, the away voice, Oh, the poor children!" and would
cook, and Frau Hoffmann, wrapping her fur cape have fallen to the ground had not he supported
more closely about her-for the wind was keen and her, while the pitying bystanders, who saw with
bitter-set off at a quick pace for Unter den Lin- the keen sight that came of daily sad experience,
den," where she had an errand at a tempting book- flocked to her help. A near droschke was sum-
seller's shop. Here, carefully, she selected the moned, and she was lifted into it and driven to her
beautiful book, Riickert's poems, illustrated,-it now stricken home, desolate of its dearest hope.
happened to be a favorite of her own and her hus- Paul, rosy and merry, muffled against the cold,
band's,-in which she inscribed, then and there, the with his skates slung over his shoulder, fresh from
beloved name, for fear she would be too much hur- a skating frolic on the pond in the public garden,
ried at home to do it properly. Her pleasant task near by, came bounding up to the door as the horse
accomplished, she set her face homeward; but a stopped, and sprang forward to assist his mother
few steps from the book store, was a telegraph and their friend; but when he saw her pale, lifeless
.office, round which a crowd had collected-so cus- face he was terrified, and began to cry, My dear
tomary an occurrence, however, in these war times, little mother,-what ails her ? Mein Herr, ach,
that she did not pause to wonder at it, besides (she tell me he entreated. The poor old professor,
thought of this afterwards with a passion of remorse trembling and agonized himself, could not answer
.at her selfishness), was not all she cared for in the him. When poor Frau Hoffmann had been carried
war on its way to her at this moment ? What to up the long flight of stairs to her bright little home,
her, in comparison, was prince or king, beleaguered which she had left so blithely not three hours before,
city or hostile camp, or even fatherland itself? At and laid on the sofa in the dwelling-room, she
this moment a familiar face confronted hers, the opened her eyes at last, and they rested on the
.owner thereof pushing through the crowd; but it children, who, pale and weeping, had gathered
was such a pale, haggard face, with such startled closely around her. The kind old Herr had told
eyes, that the sight of it thrilled her with a vague the little orphans, in broken tones, of their bereave-
dread. It was old Herr Scharlach, a friend and ment by this time, and they, overwhelmed as they
-colleague of her husband, at the Polytechnic. He were, still hardly realized their terrible loss; but,
saw her; and growing a shade paler, half turned so much the more, the stricken condition of the
.aside, as though he wished to avoid her; but she dear mother before them, for whose sake they now
had noticed something-a white paper-in his hand, strove to be quiet and calm. But she opened her
partly thrust behind him; and scarce knowing what arms and they crowded close to her, their sobs now
:she expected or thought, she seized his arm with an breaking out as though the little hearts would burst
imploring "What is it, my friend; what have you with grief. "Gone, gone, Fritz," was all she said,
heard ?" All her light-hearted confidence had very low; but Gretchen heard her and nestled closer.
vanished. A great blank dread stared her in the The slow, wretched hours had dragged along to-
face. She seemed to read her doom in Herr Schar- wards night,-the eagerly expected, happy night,
lach's averted glance, as mechanically she held out which had turned to such misery and despair; it
her hand for the paper. Then he roused himself. was growing dusk. Four little lonely figures were
"Only a skirmish, dear madam," he managed to huddled closely together behind the great stove-
say in a constrained voice, the friendly German stove, with its red velvet fringed
Let me see." mantle shelf against the gleaming white tiles,-the
She spoke coldly and clearly,-all the feeling only prominent white object in the darkening room.
-gone outof her tones. She took the paper-a bul- The door leading into -the mother's room was a
letin. At one glance she saw it amid an hundred little ajar; for Gretchen had just crept in softly to
-names, the one-the only one for her-" Killed, see if the dear, patient little mother was asleep.
Private F. Hoffmann, Queen Elizabeth Regiment, Fritzel was leaning against his brother, who had
-- Company." That was all. It happened in a thrown his arm around the little fellow, and said
skirmish, near Mont Aaron, against Le Bourget, presently, in a half whisper, Won't Papa come
two days before, when that company had lost heav- for our Christmas tree at all?" with a grieving
ily. She took it all in somehow; and when she voice; "will the Christ-child know it, and not come
looked up from the paper it was as though she had either?" The Christ-kindlem will come, I
been reading it for hours, and she seemed to have think I said Olga; "because he will want to
.known it all a hundred years before. It was an old, comfort us, and tell us what Papa will do on Christ-







144 WHAT THE CHR IST-CHILD BROUUGHI-T. [JANUARY,

mas in heaven. Papa told me last year that there through the keyhole; and seeing only blackness,
was Christmas in heaven." however eagerly the little eyes might peer, they gave
Fritzel and Carlotta, to whom Olga's word was up, and stoleback disappointed to the stove. "I know
gospel, turned their eyes toward the door of the the dear Christ-child won't forget us," said Olga ;
salon, at the opposite end of the room. Will he "I don't want the gifts; but do want to know about
come soon Olga? whispered poor little Carlotta. our Papa, and that would comfort Mothei. I learn-





1- Ij- jj

'
t ,l i i
,-, ,ol .... 'N






























LINA SENDING THE CHILDREN AND WORK-PEOPLE AWAY.
" I am so tired and sorry here, in the dark," with ed a little text last Sunday-' Blessed are ye that
a little sob in her voice, which she tried to suppress mourn, for ye shall be comforted; and Mamma
for fear the mother would hear it. Will we see the told me that Jesus said that himself; so I'm sure
light when he does come? for if Mamma isn't in the it's true." Just then, Gretchen came out-" Mam-
room he might go away, and we not know it." ma sends me to tell you all that she wants to hear
"0, Carlotta," said Paul, sadly, "how can you our Christmas hymn." There was a little settling
care for Christmas trees when dear Papa is gone, down and whispering, and a sob from Paul; for
and the Mother so ill this was to have been their greeting to the dear
But little Carlotta and Fritzel, hand in hand, had fathei-, who would never come to hear it now. Then,
slipped away from the others, and groped their way led by Gretchen's sweet, clear voice, the beautiful
up to the closed door for the purpose of peeping Christmas music rose and filled the room, filling
--- -2-- 51 - -




















LINA SENDINGTHE CHILDREN

msotrdan oryhrintedrk, withI edaltl ex atSnay-'Besd r eta
a~' litesl nhrvie wihsetidt upes orfry hl e ofre n ,am
for fertemtewudha t Yilw e h ol eta eu adta isl;s msr

ligh whn h doe coe ?for f Mmmais 't i th its tre."Jus thla, rethencameout-" are








1874.] WHAT THE CHRIST-CHILD BROUGHT. 145


the heart of the poor mother with comfort too, and their wondering exclamations, coupled with the
bringing the first tears of relief to her dry, despair- children's excitement, made the father realize
ing eyes, as she lay crushed by her sorrow, in the that something unusual had occurred before his
dark room near by. return.
The wife led him to his seat near the fire, and
Thou dear and holy Christ! what bliss they all crowded about him, talking so fast and
Thy coming to thy children is; eagerly that he finally was obliged to hush them all,
For thou can't make us pure and white, and tell Gretchen to be spokeswoman. Then he
God's children, pleasing in His sight. told his tale:
I left Versailles five days ago," he told them,
Oh, bless us we are young and small; "'and was not even present at the attack on Le
Oh, free our hearts from sinful thrall Bourget, which began December 21st, as the tele-
Oh, make our spirits free from sin,- grams state; but there was another Private Hoff-
Thy fount of heavenly love within. mann in my company-Franz Hoffmann, from
Potsdam-which accounts for the mistake, and he
As the last echoes of the sweet carol died on the must have fallen, poor fellow. I have not seen the
ear, a bright ray of light streamed through the key- list. He had been with us only a few days; and
hole of the salon door, and flooded the threshold. though I knew him but little, he was counted a
Fritzel saw it first, and sprang towards the door, good comrade and a genial man. I trust he does
clapping his hands. "The Christ-child! he is not leave many to mourn him." And looking
come Oh, open open! he shouted. Carried around on the little household band he bowed his
away by excitement and the delightful remembrance head in silence for a moment.
of last year, when they all waited thus in the dark I wanted to surprise you all," he continued,
for the lighting up in the salon and the opening of as I reached the house. I knew your mother's
the door, he wholly forgot, for an instant, the sor- arrangements were to be just like those of last year,
rowful reality, from her letters. The doors were open, so I just
But, at that moment, the door flew open. The stole in, and finding everything ready to my hand,
beautiful, brilliant tree stood in the centre of the was there to receive the Christ-child, little thinking
great room, towering from polished floor nearly to what a strange surprise I would give you ; little
the frescoed ceiling, and little white tables, laden dreaming that I was to appear as one risen from
with treasures, were grouped around it in a semi- the dead. I waited while you sung your Christmas
circle. hymn, dear children, hardly able to restrain my im-
A lovely fair-haired image of the Christ-child patience, wondering all the time why the dear little
flashed high above the lights and evergreens with a mother did n't steal in to see if the Christ-child
shining star on his head; and on the threshold had come."
stood a very different figure-a tall figure in gray, Paul sprang up then with a sudden thought of
with a soldier's cap, which opened its arms as little the neglected Christmas tree : Oh, the tree !
Fritzel sprang forward with the cry, "Papa we're all forgetting it, and our splendid tapers are
Papa! fast burning away." So, followed speedily by all,
She never knew how she got there; but almost he ran into the next room, into the midst of the
before Fritzel's joyous cry, the mother was out in Christmas warmth and beauty.
the dwelling-room in her white wrapper, and safe in The children were soon wild with delight over the
his own strong, living arms, close to his warm, true wonderful gifts on their separate little tables, and
heart. Fritzel and Carlotta were shouting and clapping
My Marga," he had whispered; "'my best little their hands under the tall sparkling tree, down from
wife." the height of which the fair, waxen face of the
She knew nothing else; desired to comprehend Christ-child image seemed to smile on the happy
nothing. She had him, and was satisfied, little ones.
But the children were not. When the elder ones Loving little Olga, who fully realized by this time
fully realized that it was indeed himself-his living that her papa was not an angel, but living and real,
self, and no other-returned to their midst again, the best gift the dear Christ-child could have
they clamored to know what it all meant, and the brought her, nestled up to his side and pulled him
little ones, half afraid to approach now, whis- gently by the hand over to his special little table.
pered together as if they thought he must be an an- Gretchen, the good, careful little maiden, had
gel, after all. slipped out during the confusion and brought in
Attracted and alarmed by the commotion, old the gifts, which, just completed, had not been
Christel and the maid, Lina, came running in, and placed there after the dreadful news came.








140 THE PRINCES IN THE TOWER. [JANUARY,

All the children crowded up to watch and corn- The street's fairly alive with our good news,"
ment on Papa's pleasure, as he examined his gifts, she whispered to Gretchen, as she ran in, panting,
praising the skill of this and the thoughtfulness of to see the beautiful tree and receive her gifts with
that donor, as he did so. a pretty show of surprise.
Just then, there was a violent ring at the entrance Frau Hoffmann, who had disappeared for a few
bell, and in another second the old professor burst moments, returned presently in her pretty blue
into the room, looking like Knecht Ruprecht him- dress, which had been especially prepared for this
self, in his enormous shaggy overcoat and fur cap, happy occasion, followed by Christel and Lina with
carrying a big basket, and fairly beaming and over- the refreshment trays. Then there was jubilee,'
.1 .... with true German glee. indeed.
Good news travels fast. The Christmas greeting passed around, and the
Almost before the family were sure of the fact Children's Christmas hymn was called for. What
themselves, the happy tidings seemed to have spread a joyous strain the music took this time! How out
in some mysterious way, and other friends soon filled of each heart in that now blessed little family rose
the room; coming in, they said, for. just a look at the song of thanksgiving !
the dead returned to life again. Gretchen and Paul, Olga, Carlotta and Fritzel
The children and work-people of the neighbor- laid happy little heads on their pillows that memor-
hood ran up and down the steps, calling out to Lina able night; and, I think, the dear Christ-child sent
and asking questions, till she was forced to drive them beautiful dreams to herald in the holy Christ-
them away. mas-day?



THE PRINCES IN THE TOWER.
See Frontispiece.

BY M. M. D.

JUST three hundred and ninety years ago, two Ah, who could say what might happen !
noble boys were traveling in state from Ludlow English history tells us what happened: how the
Castle to London. An escort of two thousand wicked Duke of Gloucester pretended at first to be
horsemen rode with them; and although the boys all loyalty and kindness; how he wrote a letter of
had just lost their father, King Edward IV, and condolence to the queen mother, and set off from
were dressed in sober black, I have no doubt that Scotland, where he was commanding an army, to
hundreds of happy children who saw them pass, be present, he said, at his dear nephew's corona-
looked with delight at the grand cavalcade, and tion; and how, with fair words and treachery, he
thought it a fine thing to be a prince. Their mo- first placed the Prince in the Tower of London,
their called the boys Edward and Richard; but Ed- where "he would be safer than anywhere else, un-
ward being the eldest,-though only thirteen years til the grand ceremony should take place; how
of age,-was His Royal Highness, the Prince of he afterwards took the little Duke of York from his
Wales, rightful heir to the English throne; and sobbing mother and put him, too, in the dreary
Richard, his brother, a boy of eleven, was known Tower; and how -
as the Duke of York. But you see them in the picture. They are to-
Yes, many a boy and girl looked almost with gether; that is some comfort. Their chamber is
envy that day upon the two royal children, and grandly furnished, but it is in a prison. Not the
wondered how it felt to be the son of a king and Prince of Wales, nor the Duke of York, now, but
lord of a nation, two heart-sick, terrified boys, who every moment
But the men and women who looked on thought dread-they hardly know what. If they only could
of something very different. 'They shook their feel their mother's arm about them once again !
heads and whispered their misgivings to each other. They have prayed and prayed, and they have cried
It was dreadful, they said; such brave, beau- till they can cry no more, and, with breaking hearts,
tiful, noble lads, too; and their father hardly cold they have straightened themselves proudly with the
in his grave-poor, dear things But then they thought that they are the sons of a king, when sud-
would be in the power of their uncle Richard, Duke denly they hear a footstep outside.
of Gloucester, the wickedest, cruelest and most *
powerful nobleman in all England. But for these To this day, visitors at the Tower are shown the
boys, in all their pride of youth, my lord of Glou- very spot at the foot of the gloomy stone stairs where
cester might be king of England. the bodies of the murdered Princes were buried.








874.1 THE BOY WHO WORKED. 147


Delaroche, a Frenchman, painted the large pic- And the history of Richard, Duke of Gloucester,
ture from which our engraving is made. He had also stands recorded.
the story of the princes in his heart; and though Here is the end of it :
he may or may not have loved England, he certainly There had been a terrible battle, at the close of
loved these two English boys; else how could he which a crown was picked up, all bruised and tramp-
have so painted them, that stout men feel like sob- led and stained with blood, and put upon Henry of
bing when they look at the wonderful picture? It Richmond's head, amid loud and rejoicing cries of
hangs, to-day, in the gallery of the Luxembourg, in Long live King Henry "
Paris; and every day children stand before it, feeling "That night, a horse was led up to the church
not at all as the children did who saw the princes of the Grey Friars, at Leicester, across whose back
ride by in state, nearly four hundred years ago. was tied, like some worthless sack, a naked body,
I have not told you all about Edward and Rich- brought there for burial. It was the body of the
ard, after all. Those of you who know what hap- last of the Plantagenet line, King Richard the
opened will hardly wish to hear the sad story again, Third, usurper and murderer, slain at the battle of
and those who do not, may read it whenever they Bosworth Field, in the thirty-second year of his age,
will; for it stands recorded on earth and in heaven, after a miserable reign of two years."




THE BOY WHO WORKED.

BY ROSWELL-SMITH.





























DON'T YOU WANT A RIDE'
IT was a beautiful day in the early Spring of with joythe hum of bees, and the fragrance of
18-. I lived at the West then, in one of those blossoms mingled with the song of the birds.
half rural cities for which the West is so famed. I Soon I was gaily speeding along the graveled
had started out for a drive. road; down through Dublin, as we called the
The air was balmy as June. The mud in the poorer quarter of the town (though the real Dub-
streets had dried up, the birds were going mad lin is a handsome and well-built city), out into the







148 THE BOY WHO WORKED. [JANUARY,

country. The horses seemed to share my pleasure away under the seat, and the stick put down
and enthusiasm in the drive, as I have no doubt between us.
they did. Their sleek, glossy coats glistened in the "I never rode in such a nice carriage before,
sunshine, and they arched their necks, and moved and I don't think I ever saw such horses," he went
proudly, knowing well the hand that held the reins, on, and his eyes fairly sparkled.
and loving the tones of the voice behind them. Do you want to drive?"
The odors of the great Dublin Pork Packing Es- May I ? "
tablishment were wafted to us, as we dashed past Yes, if you know how." And so I gave him
its great dark walls and noisome vaults; past the the reins, and we were friends at once.
squalid cabins of squatters; past the great distiller- Who did you ask to let you ride ?" I asked.
ies, with their tall chimnies, belching clouds of Oh! all those men in the great farm wagons."
smoke that seemed to come from subterranean And what did they say? "
fires; past great rumbling country wagons, with If they had a load they said they couldn't, and
half-drunken drivers, going home from the dis- if they had no load, they only smacked their great
tilleries with the money from the sale of their whips, and rattled by the faster, or yelled at me to
loads of corn, except what they had spent for gro- get out of the road."
series 'and calico, or drunk up in whiskey; past And you didn't ask me. Did you think be-
slowly plodding farm teams, with sober farmers in cause I had nice horses, and a fine carriage, and
grey-and women (seated in straight-backed wore good clothes, and looked like a gentleman,
kitchen chairs in the old farm wagons), in costumes that therefore I wasn't one? I said laughingly.
of all shades and colors, with calico sun-bonnets '"Well-yes-I'm afraid I did; but," he contin-
hiding faces old and peaceful, or young and giddy, ued, looking me square in the face, "do gentlemen
alike ; past rattling and noisy vehicles of all sorts, always let boys ride, when they want to ?"
out into the soft and sponge-like roads, bordered It was my turn to be a little bit puzzled; and I
by the green fields, and the whispering trees of the said, ''I don't think they do; but a gentleman is one
country, where rattle and sound ceased, who always does all he can to help others and to
Just ahead of me I saw .!!."o on the road a make them happy."
very small boy. He was dressed in plain clothes, "Well," said he, "I think you are a gentle-
known as Kentucky Jean. On his head he wore, man, at any rate."
even thus early in the Spring, a plain straw hat; And so I said, Will you tell me who you are,
over his shoulder he carried a bundle, tied up in a for I think you are a gentleman also?" and, yet, he
red silk handkerchief, and slung upon a stick. In hadn't said thank you," in words once, all this
his hand he held his great heavy shoes, whilst he time.
tugged on manfully and wearily, sore of foot, and Then he told me his story. His mother lived in
sore of heart, I had no doubt, a log cabin, in a little clearing in the woods, in
I drove quickly past, and then stopped and Boone county. His father was dead. They were
looked back, and waited until the little fellow came very poor. He had worked for a good Quaker far-
up. mer the summer before, who was very kind to his
Halloa," I said, don't you want a ride ? boys, and he was going to work for him again. He
To be sure I do," said he. had walked more than twenty miles that day, and
Then, why didn't you ask me," said I. had five miles further to go. His feet had be-
"Because," said he, "I had asked so many come very sore, and so he had taken off his shoes
times, and been refused so often, that I had got and stockings, putting his stockings in the bundle,
discouraged, and I didn't think you2 would let me," and carrying the shoes in his hand.
with some emphasis on the you." With all these things to carry, what do you
Well," I said, get in." He stood looking carry a stick for? I asked.
hopelessly up into the cushioned and carpeted Why, so that I can carry the bundle over my
buggy, and down at his bundle and his stick, and shoulder," he answered.
his heavy soiled shoes. Is the bundle heavy? "
"I am afraid I aint very clean," he said, at "'It didn't seem heavy when I started," he re-
last. plied; but it does now."
Oh never mind," I said. Get in; this ve- Where did you get the stick ?"
hide was made for use." A man cut it for me in the woods, and told me
I'd better leave my stick," he said. it was just what I needed to help to carry the
"Oh, no!" I answered. "You may want it bundle."
again." Well, which is the heavier,-the bundle or the
And so he climbed in, and the bundle was stowed stick ? "








1874.] THE BOY WHO WORKED. 149

I never thought of that. I believe the stick is "But," I said, isn't the man you work for a
-I know it is," he said at last. gentleman ? "
"'Well, now, that was a mistake. You took a "Well, yes. I suppose he is: but he isn't like
heavy yoke when you might have had a light one- you."
didn't you? I haven't a doubt but that man laughed "No," I said; "there are a great many real
to see that you were so simple." gentlemen and ladies in the world. I think this
":He did laugh," said the little fellow; and his Quaker farmer is a gentleman, and that your mother
eyes fairly flashed, and his face flushed with anger is a lady. It is said, 'fine feathers make fine birds,'
as he spoke: that was real mean-don't you think but fuss and feathers, fine manners and fine clothes,
so ? and fine horses and carriages, and houses and farms
"Yes, I do; and I don't think that man was a don't make gentlemen and ladies. Only God can
gentleman; and he pretended all the time to be make a gentleman."
doing you a kindness." Did you ever read the story of Jacob ?" I asked.
Don't you ever impose on a fellow that's smaller No, he hadn't; but he knew about Joseph.
than you are, in that way," I said. And so I made him promise to read about Jacob,
I don't mean to," said he. who went out from his father's house with only a stick
But you haven't told me your name yet." and a bundle, or wallet-much as he had done-
"My name is Richard-they call me Dick for and slept with a stone for a pillow; and I asked him
short; but I never could find out why. I don't like to be sure and find out what Jacob saw there that
nicknames. Do you ? night as he lay out under the stars, and what wages
No, I don't. Almost everybody has a nick- Laban paid to Jacob when he hired out to him,
name, however; but why Richard is called Dick, which I knew would be a little difficult, as Laban
is one of those things one can never find out." changed his wages ten times. Then I asked what
"Mr. Hollyhead, the farmer I ani going to work for, wages he had.
always calls me Richard. He's a real good man, He said $9 a month, which I thought was very
only I don't get used to the thees and thous yet." good pay for a small boy.
Got any girls? I asked. And so we rode on together, talking about the
He looked at me a moment, to see if I was mak- wages the devil pays to those who work for him, and
ing fun, but I kept a sober face, and thus reassured, the yoke Christ gives us to bear, until we came to
he said, I guess he has. He has got one." the farm-yard gate, where I turned in. He dis-
Guess / I said, don't you know ?" mounted with his stick, and bundle and shoes. I
Well, I think I ought to. She's just as pretty lingered a moment longer, and he bade me good-
as she can be ; and I like her first rate, 'cause she by, and tramped briskly down the road.
calls me Richard, too, and that makes me feel like One evening, in the December following-it was
a man." almost Christmas time-I sat by a glowing wood
Do you live far from the railroad? I asked, fire in my parlor; it was raining and freezing'with-
Close by," he answered. out. I drew nearer to the embers as the door was
Why didn't you come on the cars, then ? opened, and a great blast of cold air came rushing
He hesitated little, then said, "'Cause wouldn'tt in, without so much as saying, By your leave; and
fay.)" with it came my friend Richard.
What do you mean by that ? I asked. May He had grown a great deal. He was neatly
be you didn't have the money." dressed, and was so glad to see me, and I was so
Yes, I did. Mother gave me the money, and glad to see him, that all embarrassment was taken
she said may be I could come at half-price, as I did away at once.
last year; but, you see, I don't begin work until to- I introduced him to my wife and my boys, and
morrow, and I wanted to see the country and-and together we recalled the story of the drive; but it
-and-well, I just thought I'd walk. Mother put was evident Richard had come with a purpose.
me up a nice snack, and so I laid the money in the There was something in his manner which meant
leaves of the big Bible, right at the thirty-seventh business.
Psalm, that mother made me promise to read next And so I said, "Well, Richard, what is it ? Have
Sunday-for I knew she would read it at the same you and the pretty little girl at the farm had a quar-
time-with a little note pinned to it saying I would rel?"
walk. But I didn't know. it was so awful muddy Not exactly; but I-I have given her up."
all through the woods, or I don't believe I should "Ah how was that?"
have done it; but I'm glad I did; for, if I hadn't, You see, one day she told me she wished I
I shouldn't have met you; and I might never have wouldn't speak to her when there were other girls
known a real gentleman in all my life." there, unless I had on my best clothes, for I was







150 THE BOY WHO WORKED. [JANUARY,

such a small boy, and worked for her father, and through,' and he did; and that's the reason it's
the girls laughed at her about me; and I said I so late, for I have only just got through, and had
wouldn't, and I didn't, and I haven't spoken to her my supper."
since, and I have given up farming too." You want I should help you, do you? "
-, "No; I don't want any help. I only want
S- -. advice."
Si I f' And so we talked it all over. He hadn't
S' been to school much, and he needed more
S, -education, and yet he wanted to help support
''" his mother, and finally we decided that he-
11' : should go in the morning to the office of The
-!'i '' I Daily Blunderbuss, and see if he could get
'i --' employment there, and learn type-setting.

The result was, Richard got a place in the
-printing office, and I used to see him occa-
/ ll I. sionally at work, with his sleeves rolled up, his
"'-: -- 1" I face and hands smeared with ink; but at night,
i i al and on Sundays, he was neatly dressed, and
S- he and my boys became great friends.
__ At the end of the year I took him into my
office, for I suspected the printing office was
hardly the best place for him, and he proved
"SHE WISHED I WOULD N'T SPEAK TO HER UNLESS I HAD ON MY ha
BEST CLOTHES!" faithful in all his ways.
My boys were studying history at that time, and
"Given up farming," I said. "Why, what are they gave him a nickname, which I don't think he
you going to do? at all objected to-it was "Richard, Coeur de
"Well, I'm going to try to be a gentleman," he Lion."
answered. After he had been with me nearly a year, I one
Can't a farmer be a gentleman?" I said, think- day asked him suddenly, "what sort of a gentle-
ing what foolishness I must have put into the boy's man he meant to be ?"
head, by my talk during that ride. That's it," said he. I haven't got education
Yes, I spose he can ; but you said there were enough, and I want to go to school, and work half
different sorts of gentlemen, and you see I want to the time."
try and be another kind. When you told me what So I got him a situation as book-keeper in a
a gentleman was, I thought I'd like to be one; but bank, and he worked, and went to night-school,
I didn't find it as easy as I expected. Then I re- and finally fitted himself for college. It was a long
membered you said only God could make a gentle- and hard struggle, but a few years since he gradu-
man. I didn't know exactly what you meant, but ated with honors at the Michigan State University,
after I had got almost discouraged trying, it came and went to Chicago, where he soon obtained a
to me to ask God's help, and so I am trying harder position on one of the daily papers of that city, and
than ever." got a home for himself and for his mother.
Well, what sort of a gentleman are you going When the great fire came, his business was swept
to be?" I asked, away, but the cottage where his mother lived, "on
"That's it," he said. You see, I'm so little, I the west side," was mercifullyspared. In themean-
thought may be I could do more to help others, time I had moved to the East, and had lost sight of
and take care of mother, if I tried something else Richard, except as I occasionally heard from him
besides farm work." by letter, or heard of him from others.
Had any supper?" I said. Fortunately, his capital was in his brains, and a
Guess I have," he answered, proudly. I'm great conflagration could not destroy that; and he
stopping at a hotel." was soon at work again.
"Think it will pay ?" said I, smiling. A few months since, I received a letter, quaint
"Well, you see Mr. Hollyhead brought me in, and curious, in a lady's handwriting, which com-
and he is coming in again to-morrow. The hotel menced, Respected Friend." It was full of thees
is filled with teamsters and teams, so I asked the and thous, and it said, Richard" (no other name),
landlord if I might stay if I would help take "who was formerly in thy employment, has applied
care of the horses, and he said 'he'd put me to me for a situation as son-in-law. He refers to







8r74.] LA BOULE DE NEIGE DE JEAN MARTIN. 151


thee. Thou knowest there be adventurers abroad, arranged to make it a permanent home for us.
I am a lone widow, to whom God has given one all.
only daughter. What can't thou say of Richard?" "Mother-in-law said she could not live in the
I wrote, "I have no doubt he will fill admirably house alone.
any position he is willing to accept. He is a gentle- "After dinner was over, Esther and I explored
man, in the best sense of the word, and any lady in the house, and Esther showed me its treasures of
the land may be proud to become his wife." closets, and spotless linen and all that; then we
Soon after, Richard was married; and now it is the spent a pleasant social evening together, and gath-
Christmas time again. I have just received a letter ered in the back parlor for prayers.
from him, in which he says, "We have returned On the table lay mother's big old well-worn
from our wedding tour. My wife is a real lady, if Bible. I opened to the xxxvii Psalm, and there
there ever was one, I am sure. I have got used to was the money, pinned to the note in my boyish
the thees and thous, and learned to love to be called handwriting, just as I had leftit twenty years be-
simply, Richard, better than ever. fore. It seems mother could never, in her darkest
"We found a double surprise awaiting us. First, hour, make up her mind to use that money. I
an invitation to me to take the position of editor-in- tried to read, but my voice faltered, and then it
chief of the Daily Chicagonian, one of our largest broke down entirely. Mother and Esther knew what
papers here, which I have accepted, it meant; then mother told Mrs. Gwynne the story
"It had been agreed that we were to come back of the walk and the drive, and we all wished that
to mother-in-law's, to spend a few days, before you were here to share our happiness."
going to my own home. When we reached the Thus it was that the boy who worked came to be
house, we found my mother there, and everything a real gentle-man at last.





LA BOULE DE NEIGE DE JEAN MARTIN.*

PAR PAUL FORT.

IL y a des gens qui croient que le premier venu certain quantity de neige, la press d'abord entire
peut faire une bonne boule de neige, comme il y en ses deux mains, puis entire ses genoux sans trop de
a d'autres qui se figurent que c'est chose aisde de force et r6ussit i en faire une magnifique boule. II
bien jouer du violon. s'agissait maintenant de la jeter a quelque passant
L'une de ces opinions est aussi fausse que 1'autre. et la destinee de la boule serait remplie. L'occasion
Pour faire une vraie bonne boule de neige il faut ne se fit pas longtemps attendre; Jean vit bientit
avoir une pratique sp6ciale. En premier lieu on arriver de son c6te le vieux M. Antoine Blanc et sa
doit savoir choisir de la neige qui ne soit ni trop bonne femme, Mme Blanc. Dis qu'ils eurent pass
humide ni trop siche. Ensuite il est n6cessaire de devant lui, Jean, apris avoir bien vis6, lanca sa
savoir s'y prendre pour faire la boule solide et bien boule de neige. Puis il baissa les yeux sur le sol
proportionnie et la rendre ferme et dure en la pres- et parut innocent comme un agneau. Le vieux
sant sans trop de force entire les genoux. En un M. Blanc fit un soubresaut.
mot, la maniire de faire une boule de neige est une "Ai'e !" cria-t-il. Qu'est-ce que c'est? J'ai ete
science. frappe par une avalanche de neige. Elle est peut-
Jean Martin itait un maitre dans cette science. etre tomb6e d'un toit. Ouf! j'en ai dans mon
C'0tait un garcon qui aimait toujours a se perfec- oreille. Ca coule le long de mon cou. Je sens la
tionner dans tout ce qui n'etait pas de son 6tat. La neige sous mon gilet de flanelle. Oh! comme c'est
maniere de faire une boule de neige n'etait pas de froid C'est horrible Pourquoi suis-je venu dans
son etat, car Jean 6tait un apprenti-cordonnier. les rues lorsque la neige tombe ainsi des toits? "
Au commencement de l'hiver de 1872 le sol fut Mais sa bonne femme, Mme Blanc, ne s'etait pas
covert d'une magnifique couche de neige. La laiss6 tromper. Elle savait que la neige n'etait pas
neige n'dtait ni trop humide ni trop seche. Jean tombee du toit. Elle s'etait retournde et avait vu
descendit dans la rue pour passer un bon quart Jean jeter la boule de neige. H! merchant gar-
d'heure a faire des boules de neige. II prit une con !" exclama-t-elle. "Je vous ai vu. Vous avez
We shall be glad to have the boys and girls send translations jete de la neige i mon bo maria. Je vais le dire au
of this story. Next month we shall have a German story. maire, et vous serez mis en prison, jeune vaurien!







152 LA BOULE DE NEIGE DE JEAN MARTIN. [JANUARY,






'

..-.. -. -- :-- --- --





I It '." .i.. I I- i ; I.. I ii.- .






IH I' I -'Ii R'!'S1
-it-


ilJill


























"JEAN UNNT INNO)CLNT COMME UN ACNE X""
"Oh! bone Mie Blanc!" r-pondi- Jean, "'est- long de mon dos, je prirais de froid. Je vous re-


nc m'envoie une d ces tenibles boules de neige. ne autre boule de neige qu'il se disposait jeteri
.. .. .. .... .. .
I I, ' 1"lC 1 :,, ,l,'


', 1 I Iil ,l 1

,', II 'I ,', 1110, ".I1011 11' 1 11 I


'- I .'i '. '
Oh! bonne ,l'Bac"r ja,"e logd dsde v' re-
"i.. ,', laeI d, e b u s ',ie h lsallu- '.i .... bonn dam ,de ', I er diu.










_ ---. ct _i -n ..ul e ni ''"t ~olr l in ri as







1874.] FAST FRIENDS. 153



FAST FRIENDS.

BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE.
Author of the yack Hazard" Stories.

CHAPTER I. his chair. I can't help laughing! Nine years
A YOUNG CONTRIBUTOR. 've lived with him,-my uncle, my mother's only
brother;-he sees me ready for a journey, my trunk
VERY early one spring morning, not quite thirty packed; and nobody knows, not even myself, just
years ago, a tall boy, with arms almost too long for where I am going, or how I am going to live; and
his coat-sleeves, sat eating a hasty breakfast in a his first words are, Need n't burn candles by day-
farm-house of Western New York. His hair was light.' Candles repeated George, contempt-
freshly combed, his shirt-collar clean, his fair face uously.
smoothly shaved (or perhaps the beard was yet The uncle walked a little way from the back
to grow), and he appeared dressed for a journey, door, stopped, hesitated, and then walked back
Bythe table, leaning herelbowuponit, sat young again. A trunk was there, loaded up on an old
girl, who did not eat, but watched him wistfully. wheelbarrow.
"George," said she, with a tremulous smile, "Ye might have had the horse and wagon,
" you '11 forget me as soon as you are gone." George, to take your trunk down," he said.
George looked up, over his plate of fried potatoes, "Uncle Presbit," George answered, with a full
and saw her eyes-a bright blue, and smiling still heart, I'm obliged to you; but you did n't say so
-grow very misty indeed, and suddenly let fall a last night, when I spoke about it."
shining drop or two, like rain in sunshine. She That was too true. Uncle Presbit gazed rather
caught up her apron, dashed away the tears with a uneasily at the trunk for a moment, then slowly re-
laugh (she must either laugh or cry, and laughing volved on his axis, and the yellow X on the blue
was so much more sensible), and said, I know back moved off again.
you will, George! "I wish you would take my money!" Vinnie
"Don't think that, Vinnie? said George, earn-
estly. You are the only person or thing on this. .
old place that I don't wish to forget." .
I am sorry you feel so, George!"
I can't help it. I've nothing against them,- '
only they don't understand me. Nobody under- ,
stands me, or knows anything of what I think or I
feel." -
Don't I-a little ?" smiled Vinnie. --
"You, more than anybody else. And, Vinnie !" I I' -I,
exclaimed George, I do hate to leave you here ,- ,
He gazed at her, thinking how good, how beauti- '
ful she was. On the table there was a candle still
burning with a pale flame. Just then a broad- -'
chested, half-dressed farmer came in from another
room, yawning, and buttoning his suspenders, saw '-
the candle, and put it out. :-- ,
"Needn't burn candles by daylight," he said, ,.
pinching the wick and then wiping his fingers on ,
his uncombed hair.
George watched the broad back with the suspend-
ers, knit of yellow yarn, crossed over a blue flannel
shirt, going out at the back door, and looked grimly then said in a low tone of entreaty. "You will
sarcastic, need it, I am sure."
That's his way; he don't mean anything; he's I hope not," replied George. "I 'e enough
good-hearted behind it all," Vinnie explained, to take me to Albany or New York, and keep me
"Eat a doughnut." there a few days. I shall find something to do. I
George declined the doughnut, and sat back in sha' n't starve. Never fear."
VOL. I.- IO.







1874.] FAST FRIENDS. 153



FAST FRIENDS.

BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE.
Author of the yack Hazard" Stories.

CHAPTER I. his chair. I can't help laughing! Nine years
A YOUNG CONTRIBUTOR. 've lived with him,-my uncle, my mother's only
brother;-he sees me ready for a journey, my trunk
VERY early one spring morning, not quite thirty packed; and nobody knows, not even myself, just
years ago, a tall boy, with arms almost too long for where I am going, or how I am going to live; and
his coat-sleeves, sat eating a hasty breakfast in a his first words are, Need n't burn candles by day-
farm-house of Western New York. His hair was light.' Candles repeated George, contempt-
freshly combed, his shirt-collar clean, his fair face uously.
smoothly shaved (or perhaps the beard was yet The uncle walked a little way from the back
to grow), and he appeared dressed for a journey, door, stopped, hesitated, and then walked back
Bythe table, leaning herelbowuponit, sat young again. A trunk was there, loaded up on an old
girl, who did not eat, but watched him wistfully. wheelbarrow.
"George," said she, with a tremulous smile, "Ye might have had the horse and wagon,
" you '11 forget me as soon as you are gone." George, to take your trunk down," he said.
George looked up, over his plate of fried potatoes, "Uncle Presbit," George answered, with a full
and saw her eyes-a bright blue, and smiling still heart, I'm obliged to you; but you did n't say so
-grow very misty indeed, and suddenly let fall a last night, when I spoke about it."
shining drop or two, like rain in sunshine. She That was too true. Uncle Presbit gazed rather
caught up her apron, dashed away the tears with a uneasily at the trunk for a moment, then slowly re-
laugh (she must either laugh or cry, and laughing volved on his axis, and the yellow X on the blue
was so much more sensible), and said, I know back moved off again.
you will, George! "I wish you would take my money!" Vinnie
"Don't think that, Vinnie? said George, earn-
estly. You are the only person or thing on this. .
old place that I don't wish to forget." .
I am sorry you feel so, George!"
I can't help it. I've nothing against them,- '
only they don't understand me. Nobody under- ,
stands me, or knows anything of what I think or I
feel." -
Don't I-a little ?" smiled Vinnie. --
"You, more than anybody else. And, Vinnie !" I I' -I,
exclaimed George, I do hate to leave you here ,- ,
He gazed at her, thinking how good, how beauti- '
ful she was. On the table there was a candle still
burning with a pale flame. Just then a broad- -'
chested, half-dressed farmer came in from another
room, yawning, and buttoning his suspenders, saw '-
the candle, and put it out. :-- ,
"Needn't burn candles by daylight," he said, ,.
pinching the wick and then wiping his fingers on ,
his uncombed hair.
George watched the broad back with the suspend-
ers, knit of yellow yarn, crossed over a blue flannel
shirt, going out at the back door, and looked grimly then said in a low tone of entreaty. "You will
sarcastic, need it, I am sure."
That's his way; he don't mean anything; he's I hope not," replied George. "I 'e enough
good-hearted behind it all," Vinnie explained, to take me to Albany or New York, and keep me
"Eat a doughnut." there a few days. I shall find something to do. I
George declined the doughnut, and sat back in sha' n't starve. Never fear."
VOL. I.- IO.







154 FAST FRIENDS. [JANUARY,

But promise you 'll write to me for my money, ing out of Lord Byron." Two or three only-in-
if you need it. You know you will be welcome to eluding Vinnie-believed in him. His Uncle Pres-
it,-more than welcome, George bit owned that the boy had a knack at rhymin',"
At that moment the uncle reappeared at the door. and was rather proud of it;-no one of his blood
He was a plain, coaise man, with a rather hard but had ever before written anything which an editor
honest face, and he looked not unkindly on George. had thought wuth printin' in a paper." But
When ye spoke last night," he said, I hoped though he did not object to a little of such nonsense
ye 'd reconsider. 'T ain't too late to change yer now and then, hard work on the farm was the busi-
mind now, ye know. Had n't ye better stay ? ness of life with him, and he meant it should be so
Bird in the hand's wuth two in the bush. It's a with his nephew, as long as they lived together.
dreffle onsartin thing, this goin' off to a city where And hard enough he made it-hard, dry and pro-
nobody knows ye nor cares for ye, to seek yer saic-to George, with his sensitive nature and po-
fortin." etic dreams. And so it happened that George's
It's uncertain, I know," replied George, with trunk was out there on the wheelbarrow, packed
a resolute air; but I've made up my mind." with all his earthly possessions (including a thick
Wal! boys know more 'n their elders nowadays roll of manuscripts), and that he was eating in haste
And once more the uncle walked heavily and the breakfast which Vinnie had got for him, early
thoughtfully away, scratching his rough head. that spring morning.
George," whispered Vinnie, "if you print any- I was agoin' to say," remarked Uncle Presbit,
thing in the city papers, be sure to send me a copy." again coming back to the door, I don't mind
"Of course,"-blushing and stammering a little, payin' ye wages, if ye stay an' work for me this
-"if I do." season."
She had touched a sensitive chord in the boy's "Thank you for the offer,-though it comes
heart, which thrilled with I know not what secret rather late said George, gloomily. Good by,
aspirations. For George was a poet,-or dreamed Aunt Presbit; you're just in time to see me off."
he was. In the heart of that farm-bred, verdant The aunt came in, with pins in her mouth, ar-
youth lurked a romantic hope, shy as any delicate ranging her dress.
wild flower shrinking from the glare of day under Goin'? Have ye had a good breakfast ?" she
the shade of some secluded rock. He would hardly said, speaking out of the corner of her mouth that
have owned, even to himself, that it was there. To was free from pins.
be a poet-to write what the world would delight "Yes, thanks to Vinnie," said George, risen, and
to read-to become famous, like Byron, Burns, or ready to start.
Scott, whom he so passionately admired-O no That means, no thanks to me. Wal, George!"
he would have declared, he was not so foolish as to -the pins were out of the mouth, which smiled in
indulge that daring thought. a large, coarse, good-natured way,-" I mean bet-
And yet he had tried his powers. He had com- ter by ye'n ye think; the trouble is, ye 've got too
posed a great many rhymes while following the fine notions for plain folks like us. All is, if ye git
plough or hoeing his uncle's corn, and had written into trouble, jest come back here; then mabby
a few prose sketches. Some of these things had ye 'll find who yer re'l friends be."
got into print, and given him a good deal of reputa- George was touched by this, and there was a tear
tion as a "young contributor" to the county news- in his eye as he shook her hand at parting.
paper. The editor had more than once called at- But law she added, with broad irony, 'if
tention to the new poem by our promising young ever ye do come back, I s'pose ye '11 be a rich man,
author, G. G." (for George Greenwood favored the and too proud to speak to poor folks! Why don't
public with his initials only), comparing him with ye kiss him, Vinnie? Needn't mind me!"
Pope in his early years, or with Chatterton, "the "She is going over to the bridge with me."
marvelous boy." George was rather ashamed of And George took up the handles of the wheelbarrow
these compliments, which he greatly feared laid on which his trunk was placed.
him open to ridicule. I-He suspected, moreover, Uncle Presbit, who had walked to and fro half a
perhaps justly, that they were intended as a sort of dozen times since he last appeared at the door,
compensation for his articles; for he got no other now came back and spoke what was on his mind.
pay. Besides, he had a painful consciousness that George,"-a cough,- "I s'pose,"-another
the Vanguard of Freedom was not literature, cough,-Uncle Presbit pulled off his old farm hat
and that its columns were not the place where lau- with one hand, and scratched his head with the
rels were to be won. other,-" no doubt ye think I might 'a' gin ye some
His friends and mates, for the most part, took no money-"
interest in his verses. Some accused him of "copy- "Uncle Presbit," said George, putting down the








1874.] FAST FRIENDS. 155

wheelbarrow, "if the work I've done for you the the purpose an ancient wheelbarrow belonging to
past nine years has paid for my board and clothes his uncle." It was long before George got that
and schooling,"-his voice trembled a little,-" I'm little streak of romantic vanity rubbed out of him
glad-and I 'm satisfied. If you had offered me by rude contact with the world.
money, I-I "-chokingly-" should have taken it The road soon brought them to the bridge; and
as a kindness; but I haven't expected it, and I under the bridge flowed (for there was always a
don't know that I have deserved it." sluggish current) the waters of the canal, on which
Uncle Presbit had put his hand into his pocket, he was to embark. He saw the rising sun under
but he now took it out again, and appeared greatly the bridge, as he set down the wheelbarrow by the
relieved. tow-path, and removed the trunk. Vinnie was to
"Wal! I d' n' know, George I've meant to take the "little vehicle" (so it was called in the
do right by ye. An' I wish ye well, I shall allers Farewell") back with her, after they had parted.
wish ye well, George. Good by." "I've jumped off from that bridge, on to the
Good by," said George. He repressed a bitter boats passing under, more times than I ever shall
sob; and, with his hat pulled over his eyes, taking again, Vinnie i He remembered the way in
up the barrow again, he wheeled it away, while which the little sum of money in his pocket had
Vinnie walked sadly by his side. been earned, and wondered how that would read
in his biography: He had diligently picked up a
CHAPTER II. few pennies at odd spells, by gathering in his
TAKING THE PACKET BOAT. uncle's orchard such fruits as it chanced to afford,
and selling them on the canal-boats, upon which
NOTWITHSTANDING the distasteful life he had he stepped from a convenient bridge." Such
led at his uncle's, George did not leave the old things would dart through the lad's too active
place without some parting sighs. Strangely min- brain even at that moment of parting.
gled with his hatred of such disagreeable work as They sat down, she on the trunk and he on the
forking manure and picking up stones, and of his wheelbarrow, and talked a little; though their
uncle's sordid ways, remained a genuine love of hearts were so full, neither had much to say.
nature, and attachment to many a favorite spot. George cast anxious glances up the canal; sud-
How could he forget the orchard, so pleasant in denly he exclaimed, in a quick voice, "There's
summer weather; the great woods where he had the packet! and clasped her hand. It was the
roamed and dreamed; the swallow-haunted and boat that was to bear him away. The foremost of
hay-scented barn; the door-yard, where on Sunday the three heavily trotting horses, and the head of
afternoons he had lain upon the grass and gazed up the driver riding the last, appeared around the
into the sky, with thoughts of time, and space, and bend; then came the long, curving tow-line, and
God; and all the private paths and nooks which the trim, narrow prow cutting the water. George,
Vinnie and he had known together. who had many times leaped upon the same boat
I take back what I said about wishing to forget at that place, with his little basket of apples (it was
everybody and everything but you, Vinnie I he only upon the line-boats that he stepped from the
said, setting down his load at a little distance from bridge), sprang up and gave a signal. The driver
the house, and looking back. Shall I ever see -who knew him, and remembered many a fine
again that old roof-those trees-this road I have pippin, handed up to him as he rode past; with
traveled so many times with you on our way to the request, "Drive slow! "-slackened speed,
school? letting the tow-line dip and trail in the water.
I hope so, George said Vinnie, fervently. The steersman, who also knew George, saw the
"Where shall I be a year from now ?-three- signal and the trunk, and headed the packet for
five-ten years?" he continued, as if speaking the tow-path. As it was "laying-up" for him,
aloud the thoughts which had been haunting him. George hastily bid Vinnie good-bye; then, as the
"I wonder if this is n't all a dream, Vinnie stern swung in and rubbed gratingly against the
I should think the wheelbarrow would seem bank, he caught up his trunk, threw it aboard, and
real enough to you," she said with a tearful smile, then leaped after it. The stern swung off again,
as'he took up his load again, the driver cracked his whip, the dripping line
Yes and is n't this a rather ridiculous way of straightened, and a swiftly widening space of dingy
leaving home ? George blushed as he thought water separated George standing in the stern from
how it would sound, in the fine Byronic Fare- Vinnie on the shore.
well" he was composing, or in the biography which There was something romantic, after all, in his
might some day be written: On that occasion he departure, sailing into the sunrise, which dazzled
conveyed his own luggage to the boat, using for her as she gazed after him under her uplifted arm.







156 FAST FRIENDS.' [JANUARY,

He stood proudly erect, waving his hat towards would seem without him! how could she endure
her; she fluttered her handkerchief; then another it? But Vinnie was too brave a girl to spend much
bend shut him out from her view. time in mourning over the separation.
Poor Vinnie, standing alone on the tow-path, I must go home and get breakfast for the rest,"
with the empty wheelbarrow, continued to gaze she suddenly remembered. So, drying her eyes,
after him long after he was out of sight. A dread- she took up the wheelbarrow, and trundled it back
ful feeling of loss and desolation came over her, along the road.






_-_---i_--- == 2--- ----- ~ -

_.-- -. .._-:- = L --


































"HE WAVED HIS HAT; SHE FLUTTERED HER HANDKERCHIEF.
and the tears streamed unheeded down her cheeks. George felt the separation less; for he had the
For nine years-ever since, his parents having novelty of the journey and his own fresh hopes to
died, he came to live with his uncle-they had divert and console him. It was early in the month
been daily companions. She too was an orphan, of May; the morning was cool and fine. The sun
adopted in childhood by the Presbits, who had no rose through crimson bars of cloud into a sky of
children of their own; and the two had grown up transparent silver. Birds sang sweetly in the
together like brother and sister. How empty life budding boughs that overhung the water; the lisp









1874.] FAST FRIENDS. 157

of ripples by the rushing prow blended with their and lay on his back, with his feet towards the bow.
songs. The steady, level movement of the boat, But, gracious he reached almost as far up into
bearing him away to new scenes and new fortunes, the sky when he was lying down as when he stood
inspired him with emotions akin to happiness, up. He saw the bridge coming, in a direction
And he had his poem for a companion. His brain that was certain to cut him off about six inches
began to beat with rhymes, below his waistcoat buttons. I was on the tow-
path; and I screamed, Mister mister! you '11
"When the beams of morning fell get killed! He knew it, but what could he do?
1 nmy little vehicle, The boat could n't stop, and the bridge would n't
Which by dewy hedge-rows bore
My light luggage to the shore, go In a minute he would be crushed like a four-
She, still faithful, by my side, hundred-pound egg."
Rosy-cheeked, and tender-eyed,---" What did he do ? said George.
"There was only one thing he could do; for it
But George immediately rejected the epithet was too late to get up and run aft, and he could n't
"rosy-cheeked," as out of keeping with the pathos crawl away. He put up his feet! I suppose he
of the parting scene and the passionate tone of the thought he was going to stop the boat, or may be
"Farewell." Indeed, none of the lines composed push the bridge over. But the bridge pushed him!
that morning were finally retained in that remark- It was funny to see his eyes stick out, and hear
able poem, which was pitched to the deep key of him roar, 'Hold on wait! stop 'em !'-I suppose
the surging winds in the dark woods, where he had he meant the horses,-as he slid along on the deck,
nursed his fate-defying thoughts (after his trunk and finally rolled off into the water. He went in
was packed) the night before, like a whale,-such a splash! He was so fat he
could n't sink; but how he did splutter and blow
CHAPTER III. canal water when he came out "
The Other Boy had hardly finished his story,
THE "GOTHER BOY." when-" Bridge "-called the man at the helm;
FINDING that the stream of poetry ran shallow, and both boys, laughing heartily, got down on
George looked about among the passengers who the deck, with the other passengers, to pass
were beginning to come on deck, and noticed a under.
monstrously fat man whose bulk nearly filled the George's new acquaintance appeared to be famil-
companion-way where he stood, iar with life on the canal, and had several such
Half a dozen of us little fellows will have to go stories to tell. George in his turn became con-
forward, to trim the boat, if he stays aft," said a fidential.
boyish voice at George's side. "I used to peddle apples on the 'big ditch,' as
The speaker was a lad almost a head shorter than we call it." he said, as they sat on some light bag-
himself, and may be a year or two younger, but gage on the deck, and looked off at the passing
with a bright, honest face, which expressed a good scenery. "They were my uncle's apples, and I
deal of quiet self-reliance and firmness of character, gave him half I got for them.' That made him
George, who had seen little of the world, and who willing to let me have the fruit, and a half-day to
lacked self-reliance, felt drawn at once to the myself now and then. I would drop on to the line-
owner of that face. boats from the bridge, and -if the steersman
Perceiving that he wore pretty good clothes, would n't lay up for me-get off at the next bridge,
and a coat which was not a bad fit, our young poet or on another boat. I was a little chap when I
-who was troubled with a painful consciousness of began,-very timid,-and it was some time before
having outgrown his own garments-instinctively I completely mastered the art of getting on and
pulled down his coat-sleeves, which, as has been off. You see, it don't do to jump down on the side
said, were short, from which the boat is coming, for the bridge
He'd better not come up on deck," he replied might knock you over before you could take care
in the same tone of pleasantry. He'd go through of yourself. So you look for a good place, where
these thin boards like an elephant there's no freight or passengers, and then run to
The lad-whom we shall call the Other Boy- the other side, and wait till the spot you've picked
began to laugh. "Once when I was on the canal, out comes through, and then drop down, and
he said, "I saw just such a fat man on the deck of you're all right."
a line-boat, as it was coming to a bridge. 'Low "Yes, I see," said the Other Boy.
bridge says the steersman. It was a low bridge Once I dropped down in such a hurry that I
-very low; and the boat, having no freight, was left my basket of apples on the bridge I got well
very high out of the water. The fat man got down laughed at; and, what was worse," said George,








158 FAST FRIENDS. [JANUARY,

"when I went back, half an hour later,-for the stomach of a big Dutchman lying on the deck,
steersman would n't lay up, since I couldn't give smoking his pipe. He started up with a grunting
him an apple, and I had to jump to the first boat 'Hough! hough! '-very much as if it had been a
we met,-the pigs had eaten up all my apples, ex- fat hog I had jumped on,-and away went I and















( '-- 1 :_





.__ .--. .-' .









GEORGE'S LITTLE ADVENTURE.

cept a few which I found afloat with the basket in my apples. First I picked myself up, and then
the canal. Another time I put my basket up on a proceeded to pick up as many of my apples as
bridge, but could n't get up myself. I thought I had n't rolled overboard. Afterwards I gave all I
could, though, and I hung on, jumping and kick- saved, together with all my money, for a bill that
ing in the air, while the boat passed from under turned out to be counterfeit. Then the steersman
me, and there I clung, right over the water. The carried me off. Then, in getting up on a bridge,
boatmen only laughed at me. There was nobody -you have to step along on the deck, you know,
to pull me up,-yelling did 'no good,-and I tillyou can give a good jump, and you can't see
could n't very well hold on till another boat came where you step,-I kicked a dinner-bell off into
along, with a good deck for me to fall on." the water. The cook sprang to catch me by the
"What did you do ? asked the Other Boy, legs, and came very near going overboard after his
highly amused. bell. I was too quick for him; but I was no
"I dropped into the water. Luckily I could sooner on the bridge than a shower of turnips fol-
swim, and I got out without assistance. The boat- lowed me. I think the enraged cook, the steers-
men laughed louder than ever, when they saw me, man, and the deck hands, must have thrown away
and that hurt my feelings." half a barrel of turnips, all on my account. They
"Just like 'em they 're pretty rough fellows, went under the bridge, and over the bridge, and
the most of 'em said the Other Boy, with the hit the bridge, but not one hit the mark they were
air of one who knew. aimed at, if I except a few lively spatters of juice
On one boat," George continued, I met and mashed pulp from one or two that struck the
with a series of accidents. In the first place, get- timbers disagreeably near to my head. As soon as
ting on, I was a moment late, and, instead of I was at a good dodging distance, I yelled to the
alighting where I expected, 1 jumped into the steersman that he'd better lay up for me next








1874.] FAST FRIENDS. 159


time. But I was careful never to get on that boat and Albany, over one of the oldest railroads in the
again." country. It was a new experience to the two
The Other Boy showed a lively appreciation of boys, neither of whom had ever ridden in a
these anecdotes. Are you a pretty good hand at railroad car before. This, we must remem-
getting into scrapes?" he inquired, with a laugh, ber, was nearly thirty years ago; since which
looking up into George's face. time passenger-boats, once so common on the
"Fair," replied George. "Are you?" canal, have disappeared, and become almost
"Terrible said the Other Boy. You never forgotten.
saw such a fellow. If you are like me, we'd better At noon they arrived at Albany; and there
not be together much, or nobody knows what may George wished to spend a couple of days, while
happen. Two Jonahs in one boat! the Other Boy, who had seen enough of the city
"But do you get out of your scrapes ? asked when he was a driver, and whose business seemed
George. urgent, was for taking a steamer down the Hudson
0 yes that's the fun of it." that night. Finally George agreed that, if his
"Then I'll risk you. But how happens it that new friend would stay with him in Albany until
you know so much about the canal?" the next morning, he would then take the steamer
I was brought up on it," said the Other Boy. with him, and they would go down the river by
"You mean near it-on its banks? daylight.
"No; on the canal itself,"-with a quiet smile. They saw the city that afternoon,-the Other
"You see, I was a driver once." Boy acting as guide,-slept at a cheap public
George was astonished. You I would n't house, and got up early the next morning in order
have thought it to take the boat.
"It seems odd to me now," said the Other Boy, There were two lines of New York steamers at
looking thoughtful for a moment. I can hardly that time, "running opposition; and when the
believe that, only two years ago, I was traveling boys reached the wharf they were beset by runners
this very tow-path, one of the roughest little drivers for the rival lines, who caught hold of them, jab-
you ever saw being, and dragging them this way and that, in a
You must have had a streak of luck George manner which quite confused George, until he
suggested regarding his new acquaintance with saw how cool and self-possessed the Other Boy
fresh interest, was.
I've had some good friends said the Other See here !" cried the latter, sharply, "just
Boy. keep your hands off! Let go that trunk, I say !"
"How far are you going ? It was George's trunk; his friend had only a valise.
To New York." Now, what will you take us for ? "
George started, and drew still nearer the Other Regular fare, dollar and a half," said one;
Boy. To stay ? "take ye for a dollar."
"I don't know. I am going on a strange Go on our boat for seventy-five cents!"
sort of business; I mean to stay till I've finished shouted the other.
that." Half a dollar roared the first.
am going to New York," then said George. A quarter!" shrieked the second.
Good !" exclaimed the Other Boy. "Let's All right," said the Other Boy. We can't
go there together." do better than that;--although," he added after-
wards, "if we had kept the two fellows bidding
CHAPTER IV. against each other a little longer, no doubt one
of 'em would have given us something for going in
THE JOURNEY AND AN ADVENTURE. his boat I"
THAT afternoon they arrived at Syracuse, where They had got their baggage safely aboard, and
they changed boats, taking another packet for were standing near the gangway, amid a group of
Utica. They slept on board that night, in little passengers, when somebody said, What's the
berths made up against the sides of the narrow matter with that man? George turned, and
cabin, much like the berths in a modern sleeping- saw a well-dressed person staggering towards
car. Changing boats again the next day at Utica, them, holding one hand to his head, and
they continued their journey, passing through the reaching out convulsively with the other, on which
Mohawk Valley, and found themselves in Schenec- (he remembered afterwards) glittered a diamond
tady on the following morning, ring.
This was the end of the packet's rotite; and Take me gasped the man. I shall fall!"
here, after breakfast, they took the cars for Troy While George, struck with astonishment, hesi-







16o FAST FRIENDS. [JAUtARY,


tatcd a moment, not for want of humanity, but carried off! Now, where's the man who promised
because he lacked decision, the Other Boy sprang to get us our tickets ? "
promptly to support the stranger. See here said George, feeling in his pocket,
"Help! said he. I can't hold him !" And pay for mine when you get yours, will you ?"
in an instant George was at the stranger's other For George shrank from the responsibility of push-
side. The man reeled about frightfully, and ing into the crowd and making change.
finally leaned his whole weight upon the boys, his "All right," said the Other Boy. What's the
body swaying, and his arms clutching their sides. matter with you ? "
At the same time two other gentlemen crowded George stood, a picture of consternation, feeling
close to them, crying, "What ails him ? first in one pocket, then in another, then in both.
I don't know," said the Other Boy. Ease My pocket-book he said hoarsely.
him down on the trunks here." The Other Boy comprehended the situation at
No, no gasped out the suffering gentleman. once, and, thrusting his hands into his own pock-
" Take me ashore I'm not going in the boat. I ets, became another picture of consternation, to
shall be all right." match his friend.
As he appeared to recover himself a little, de- My purse That rascal! he cried, springing
caring presently that his faintness had passed, and to the gangway.
that he could walk, the two boys helped him to He looked for the sick man leaning by the cab.
the wharf, where he thanked them warmly for He had disappeared. The steamer was already
their kindness. They left him leaning against forty yards from the wharf. And there were our
a cab, and had just time to leap aboard again two youthful adventurers, embarked for the great
when the bridge was hauled in, the great paddles unknown city in a crowd of passengers among
began to revolve, and the boat started, whom they had not a friend, and without money
"He's all right," cried the Other Boy, with enough about them to pay their fares even at
satisfaction. "Just think, he might have got opposition rates.
(bT be continued )



A CARD FROM THE EDITOR OF "OUR YOUNG FOLKS."

THROUGH the courtesy of the Conductor of ST. readers and correspondents as my personal friends,
NICHOLAS, I am enabled to say a few words to the that I cannot now sever the special ties that joined
readers of" Our Young Folks," in place of the many I me to them without a sense of personal bereavement.
should have wished to say in the last number of that But, dear friends, changes-though they often appear
lamented magazine, had it been known to be the last disguised as foes-are, if not blessings themselves, the
when it left the editorial hands. parents of blessings and of all improvement. Although
That number was sent to its readers in the full faith Our Young Folks was the pioneer of the better class
that all it promised them for the coming year was to be of juvenile periodicals, there were many things about it
more than fulfilled. But it had scarcely gone forth, which we would gladly have made different, could we
when came the sudden change by which Our Young have gone back, with our acquired experience, and pro-
Folks" ceased to exist-the result of a purely corn- jected its form and character anew. But it filled its
mercial transaction, wholly justifiable, I think, on the place, and it is gone; and we believe that from its grave
part of the publishers, J. R. Osgood and Company, of "violets will spring," to blossom amid the leaves of a
whose honorable and liberal conduct in all that related more beautiful and more beloved successor. Such a
to the little magazine, up to the very last, I can speak successor ST. NICHOLAS promises to be. I sincerely
with the better grace now that my editorial connection trust that it may crown that promise with fulfillment,
with their house has ceased. and so prove to the friends of Our Young Folks"
Dear friends of" Our Young Folks," that I do not that their loss is but gain.
mourn the loss of our little favorite I will not pretend. The serial story, prepared for the late magazine, is here-
Connected with it from its very birth nine years ago, and with transferred to ST. NICHOLAS; and through the con-
very intimately during the last three or four years, my in- tinuation of the history ofJack Hazard's adventures I shall
terest in it had grown to be something more than that of hope still to maintain a pleasant relation with former
a mere writer or editor-it filled a large place in my heart, readers, keeping them FAST FRIENDS for another year.
I had been so long accustomed to regard its youthful J. T. TROWBRIDGE.


Not only the thousands of boys and girls who have grown to love the editor of "Our Young Folks," but hosts of others familiar with
Mr. Trowbridge's --t--i -- 11 ;-:joice to know that again, and for many a month, they may cluster about their old friend, to hear the
stoly he is to tell in .
And so, though the much-loved magazine has passed away, our young folks will claim him still, and the claim, we trust, will grow
stronger and heartier as the years roll on. CONDUCTOR OF ST. NICHOLAS.








1874.1 NIMP'O'S TROUBLES. 16I



NIMPO'S TROUBLES.

BY OLIVE THORNE.

CHAPTER I. Mother never lets me go anywhere I want to,-
GOING OUT TO BOARD. at least, not unless every little thing is just so," she
added, to qualify the rather surprising remark.
THIS is the story of a real girl, no wiser and no "' I think she's horrid particular, anyway. Then
better than you are. I hope you'll like her; and she never lets me wear my new dress I don't see
I'm sure you'll be interested to hear about her any use of having a dress if you can't wear it, except
troubles. They were many and grievous, but the just to church. Oh, dear! I do wish I cduld do as
I please Wouldn't I have a nice time? "
-.;... -- --' Having talked out her grief, though only to
the unsympathizing walls, Nimpo felt better,
i -i and began to plan what she would do if that
fi i nice time should ever come. Her face bright-
.iI- ened, and before long she was so deep in cas-
tle-building that she forgot her troubles, and
S' when the tea bell rang she went pleasantly down
Stairs, not a bit like the abused damsel she
-- thought herself.
S.,',' .-_ Perhaps it was because "coming events cast
S" I their shadows before," for her nice time was
S'_ I much nearer than she thought. They were
all at the table, when she took her place, and
I' ,, holding an animated discussion.
i '- 1- "Nimpo," said her father, -'I'm going to
S' I take your mother with me to New York next
i week. How shall you like to keep house?"
si "Are you--is he, mother?" exclaimed Nim-
-' -- po, "and can I keep house ?"
'''" I'm thinking about it," replied Mrs. Rie-
ST vor but I don't see exactly how to arrange it.
Sarah wants to go home for a month, or I could
leave you with her. Perhaps I can get Mrs.
S Jackson to come and take care of you all."
S. "Oh, no! I can't bear Mrs. Jackson," Nimpo
broke in; can't I board somewhere ?"
NIMPO THINKS OVER HER TROUBLES. "That might do, Mary," said Mr. Rievor.
greatest of all was, that she could not do as she Perhaps that would be best. You would feel
pleased. easier about them."
Now, I wouldn't be surprised if that were your I don't know who would take the care of three
special trouble too; and I'm going to tell you what children on their hands," said Mrs. Rievor.
Nimpo did about it. "Children said Nimpo, "I should think I was
Nimpo wasn't her real name, of course; it was old enough to take care of myself."
one she had given herself before she could speak Mrs. Rievor looked curiously at Nimpo, a mo-
plainly, and she never had been able to get rid of it. ment, and a light seemed to break in on her mind.
She had a habit of talking to herself, and the day She thought, perhaps, it would be well for her little
my story begins, she had locked herself in her daughter to take care of herself a while. So she said
room, and was going on in a most passionate she would think of it.
way: Well, she did think of it; and she went out the
"I don't believe anybody has such a hard time next morning to see about it, and when Nimpo
as I have I never can do as I please! Here I came home from school she was greeted with a
am, 'most thirteen, and I never did as I had a mind shout from Rush, who was swinging on the front
to a single day I just think it's too bad gate.
VOL. I.-II.








1874.1 NIMP'O'S TROUBLES. 16I



NIMPO'S TROUBLES.

BY OLIVE THORNE.

CHAPTER I. Mother never lets me go anywhere I want to,-
GOING OUT TO BOARD. at least, not unless every little thing is just so," she
added, to qualify the rather surprising remark.
THIS is the story of a real girl, no wiser and no "' I think she's horrid particular, anyway. Then
better than you are. I hope you'll like her; and she never lets me wear my new dress I don't see
I'm sure you'll be interested to hear about her any use of having a dress if you can't wear it, except
troubles. They were many and grievous, but the just to church. Oh, dear! I do wish I cduld do as
I please Wouldn't I have a nice time? "
-.;... -- --' Having talked out her grief, though only to
the unsympathizing walls, Nimpo felt better,
i -i and began to plan what she would do if that
fi i nice time should ever come. Her face bright-
.iI- ened, and before long she was so deep in cas-
tle-building that she forgot her troubles, and
S' when the tea bell rang she went pleasantly down
Stairs, not a bit like the abused damsel she
-- thought herself.
S.,',' .-_ Perhaps it was because "coming events cast
S" I their shadows before," for her nice time was
S'_ I much nearer than she thought. They were
all at the table, when she took her place, and
I' ,, holding an animated discussion.
i '- 1- "Nimpo," said her father, -'I'm going to
S' I take your mother with me to New York next
i week. How shall you like to keep house?"
si "Are you--is he, mother?" exclaimed Nim-
-' -- po, "and can I keep house ?"
'''" I'm thinking about it," replied Mrs. Rie-
ST vor but I don't see exactly how to arrange it.
Sarah wants to go home for a month, or I could
leave you with her. Perhaps I can get Mrs.
S Jackson to come and take care of you all."
S. "Oh, no! I can't bear Mrs. Jackson," Nimpo
broke in; can't I board somewhere ?"
NIMPO THINKS OVER HER TROUBLES. "That might do, Mary," said Mr. Rievor.
greatest of all was, that she could not do as she Perhaps that would be best. You would feel
pleased. easier about them."
Now, I wouldn't be surprised if that were your I don't know who would take the care of three
special trouble too; and I'm going to tell you what children on their hands," said Mrs. Rievor.
Nimpo did about it. "Children said Nimpo, "I should think I was
Nimpo wasn't her real name, of course; it was old enough to take care of myself."
one she had given herself before she could speak Mrs. Rievor looked curiously at Nimpo, a mo-
plainly, and she never had been able to get rid of it. ment, and a light seemed to break in on her mind.
She had a habit of talking to herself, and the day She thought, perhaps, it would be well for her little
my story begins, she had locked herself in her daughter to take care of herself a while. So she said
room, and was going on in a most passionate she would think of it.
way: Well, she did think of it; and she went out the
"I don't believe anybody has such a hard time next morning to see about it, and when Nimpo
as I have I never can do as I please! Here I came home from school she was greeted with a
am, 'most thirteen, and I never did as I had a mind shout from Rush, who was swinging on the front
to a single day I just think it's too bad gate.
VOL. I.-II.







I62 NIMPO S TROUBLES. IJ AXNLRY,


"Oh, Nimpo It's all settled, and we're going "I mean to pack up, too," said he, prudently
to Mrs. Primkins' to board. Ain't you glad? not hearing her last remark. Nimp, would you
I guess you'll have to learn better manners than take your skates?"
to swing on a gate, if you're going to board out," Skates !-in the middle of summer !" said she
said Nimpo, with great dignity. '"I should be scornfully. "I think you'd better take a little
mortified to have Mrs. Primkins see such rude man- common sense-if you've got any in your head. I
ners; and she went into the house to see if the wish you'd go out; you're in my way. I want to
delightful news was really true. spread out nmy things on that bed."
Oh, my don't we feel grand I shouted Rush, Nimpo's room was a cozy bit of a place, with
who was just at the teazing age in boys-if you only room for a narrow bed, a little bureau, a
know what age that is. According to my experi- stand, and one chair. So when Rush came in to
ence, it begins at nine or ten years of age, and ends see her, he always sat or lounged on the bed.
--when does it end, boys? Before she went to sleep on that wonderful
But, for once, Nimpo did not care what he said. night, Nimpo had packed everything, except her
She was too much elated with her brilliant prospects dresses, and as it was a week before she went, she
to listen to him. had to live in the trunk all that time.
Mother, have you got us a boarding place?" she But that-though rather :nconvenient-was part
asked, eagerly. of the fun.
Mrs. Rievor smiled. She was a heroine at school for that week. The
"Yes, dear; at least, Mrs. Primkins says she envy of the girls, and the happiest one of all. Les-
will take you, if, on the whole, it is decided to be sons were not very well learned, notes passed
best." around, and in fact the whole school was demoral-
Oh, I hope it will, mother! I don't want to ized by her influence, because she was going to
stay here with that poky old Mrs. Jackson, to order "board out," that being considered the height of
me around." felicity among the school girls of the village.
But you will find things very different there The airs she put on were wonderful to see. She
from what you are used to, my dear, and I'm afraid did up her hair in a very tight knot behind, feeling
you'll be disappointed." too old for braids, and slily let down a tuck in her
"Of course, things '11 be different," said Nimpo, dress.
loftily, but I think I'd like a change. I don't You see she wasn't a bit like the good girls you
think it's good for folks to live always in a rut." read about; she was more like the girls you see-
She had read that expression in a grown-up book, when you look inv the glass.
and thought it sounded striking. Well, the week came to an end, as all weeks
But, seeing a peculiar smile on her mother's will if we're only patient, and the morning came
face, she went on earnestly- on which Mr. and Mrs. Reivor were to start.
"I always did want to board out, mother, and I "Now, Nimpo," said her mother that morning,
think it '11 be just splendid." "I leave little Robbie to your tender care. Re-
"Well," said Mrs. Rievor, "perhaps it will be member he's a baby, and will miss his mother.
good for you, and if you prefer, you may try it." I'm sure you'll be kind to him, dear. And I want
So that was settled, and Nimpo thought her day you to be more considerate with Rush. I know he
of glory was coming in. is trying- "
She went at once to her room, drew her trunk I should think he was! broke in Nimpo.
out of the closet, and began to look over her "Well, I know he is; but it's only his rough
"things," to see which she would take. Itwasde- way. Try to be patient with him. I want to
lightful to select them, and pack them away in speak to you of Mrs. Primkins, too. You'll find
boxes, and it made her feel as if she were going on some things you're not used to, my dear, but I
a journey. know she'll be kind to you, and I hope you will be
Rush was excited, too, though of course-being a respectful to her, and do as she wishes you to."
boy-he would not own it. Pretty soon he came in. "Of course I shall be respectful, mother," said
"What 'r you doing, Nimp?" he asked. Nimpo, putting on her high and mighty air, "but
"Packing up," said Nimpo, from the closet, I don't see why I should mind her. I'm sure I'm
where she had gone to get her best shoes, so as to old enough to know what's right for me to do. I
be sure and not forget them. shall only be a boarder, any way."
"'Then we're to go, sure pop? "Well, daughter," were Mrs. Rievor's last words,
"Yes, we're to go to Mrs. Primkins' to board, I hope you will be as happy as you expect."
but I do wish you'd leave off such vulgar words," There's the stage!" shouted Rush from the
answered Nimpo. front gate ; and, sure enough, the old red stage,









1874.] NIMPO'S TROUBLES. 163


with its four white horses, came swinging around there was a tightened up ready-for-action look, that
the corner, and stopped at the gate. meant work. In fact, she was a kind-hearted, un-
In a moment the trunks were strapped in the big educated woman, whose life was spent in her
"boot" behind. Father and mother said good- kitchen, and who knew very little out of it.
by, and were packed in, the driver climbed to his She consented to take the children to board, be-
seat, cracked his whip, and off they went, leaving cause she wanted money to furnish her half-empty
Nimpo, Rush and Robbie at the gate, and black rooms.
Sarah at the door. When Nimpo reached the house, she went up to
Robbie began to cry, and even Rush felt a slight the front door, and finding no bell, gave a delicate,
choke in his throat, but Nimpo was too much taken lady-like knock.
up with her brilliant prospect to feel unhappy. No reply.
Now, Robbie," she began, in her most elder- She knocked again, louder this time. In a mo-
sisterly way, "don't cry, dear; we're going up to ment she heard a window opened, and Augusta
our boarding place, and you'll see what fine times Primkins put her head out.
we'll have !" Go 'round the back way," she screamed.
Hadn't ye better stay here till arter dinner?" "Well, I never!" said Nimpo, tossing her head;
said Sarah. I won't get done clarin up 'fore the but she went, and there she found Mrs. Primkins
afternoon, an' I kin jist as well cook y'r dinner." washing dishes.
"No, I thank you, Sarah," said Nimpo, loftily, "Excuse me, Mrs. Primkins," she said. "I
" I want to take possession of my new rooms this knocked at the front door, but could not make you
morning." hear."
Sarah smiled, bit Rush shouted: Laws cried Mrs. Primkins, stopping to look
"Nimp's on her stilts again! I say, Nimp, at her. Why did n't you come right around?
don't forget to take the big dictionary up to old I don't expect to make company of you; and she
Primkins. They'll all have to study it if you keep returned to her dish-pan.
on." "Will you be kind enough to show me my
Nimpo threw a most withering look on him, but rooms?" asked Nimpo, with her grandest, young
he didn't wither a bit. He only laughed louder, lady-like air.
and Sarah said, quietly: Mrs. Primkins stopped now in earnest, stood a
"Law, now! I reckon ye'll git off that ar high moment looking at the pompous young figure in
hoss, 'fore you've been to Miss Primkins' a week. the doorway, laughed a little to herself, wiped her
She ain't much like y'r ma, no ways." hands on her apron, and then went to a door which
Nimpo disdained reply. seemed to lead up stairs.
You can leave the key of the house with cousin Au-gus-tee !" she screamed.
Will, at the store, Sarah," she said with dignity. Ma'am," came faintly down from the attic.
"Yes, Miss Rievor," said Sarah, sarcastically. Them Rievor children's come; you show them
"So y'r ma tole me? Lor' won't she git took their rooms."
down a peg! she added, with a laugh to herself, Children, again!" thought poor Nimpo. "I'll
the next minute, as Nimpo disappeared through soon show them I'm no child."
the door. I s'pose you'd 's'lieves go up the back way?"
The trunks had been carried up the day before ; said Mrs. Primkins, holding open the door.
so nothing remained but to walk up there. It makes no difference," said Nimpo, haughti-
Nimpo started off, leading Robbie, and Rush, ly, and up she went.
stopping to gather up a bow and arrow he was mak- When she got to the head of the stairs, she
ing, followed slowly along behind, looked around for Augusta, but a voice came from
above-
CHAPTER II. Come up stairs, children."
Nimpo hesitated, and Mrs. Primkins called from
MRS. PRI\IKINS. bl
below-
MRS. PRIMKINS lived in a two-story house, a Take the little door at your left hand."
block or two above Mr. Rievor's. It was the new- Then Nimpo saw a narrow, unpainted door,
est and most stylish-looking house on the street, which she opened. There was the next flight of
and that was one reason Nimpo was pleased to go stairs, regular garret stairs, narrow and steep. Up
there. these she climbed, her heart boiling over with
Mrs. Primpkins, however, was not stylish in the wrath.
least. Her hair was cut short in her neck, her It can't be possible she said to herself, "that
dress was short and scant, and in her whole figure that horrid woman means to put us in the attic "








164 NI MPO 'S TROUBLES. [JANUARY,

But she did; for there stood Augusta at the head chair next to you. You, Rush, can set down by
of the landing, and she pointed to two small, un- Augusty."
painted doors, on one side of the attic. They took their seats. Mr. Primkins was
"Those are your rooms. You can divide them already in his place. Nimpo tied on Robbie's bib,
as you like." and looked around. I don't suppose she would really
But I thought-but can't we have rooms down have cared much how her dinner was served, if she
stairs? stammered Nimpo, with tears of vexation had n't dreamed so much, and worse yet-said so
in her eyes. much about the style of boarding. But the dishes
Augusta looked at her with surprise, of coarse crockery, with blue edges, such as they
"There ain't a stick of furniture in the cham- used at home to bake pies on, the big, awkward
bers. This is my room," and she opened the door knives and two-tined forks, the unbleached table-
of the front attic, showing a broad room, the whole cloth, the square table, with leaves propped up, so
width of the house, with a droll window half across that you had to be careful not to hit the leg, or you
the front. This window was in the peak of the roof, might have your dinner in your lap-all these to-
and, of course, it could not go up; so it was ar- gether were dreadful troubles just then.
ranged with hinges, and hung down into the room. Then there was the great piece of corned beef,-
It was now open, and it looked as though half the which she never could eat, and whole potatoes,-
wall was out.
But Nimpo turned away from this room, and -
with a swelling heart, opened one of the other doors. -
The room was a small one, with sloping roof on ..
one side. A bed was pushed under this low part, "--i
and before it stood a cheap stand and one wooden ,
chair. A window at the end looked out upon a -
roof, and the kitchen chimney smoked away only
five or six feet from the sash.
There was an awful crash of air castles in Nimpo's
heart. She turned to look at the other room, but "
found it even worse; for it had no wash-stand at ,
all. She returned to the first room, drew Robbie 'i'
in, shut the door, sat down on the foot of the bed,
and-burst into tears.
Don't cry, Nimp," said Rush, by way of con- i
solution, while Robbie climbed up by her and said:
SThis room 's too high up; that wall's going to
fall down."
"It's real mean, anyhow," Rush went on, "to
put us up in the garret like this. It ain't half so
good as our house, for all it looks so grand "
"Mean!" said Nimpo, who had recovered her
voice. "It's horrid! the stingy old thing! I'1
bet she did n't tell mother where she was going to I .-
put us! I'll never stay here-never You see
if I do." '
Poor Nimpo seated herself disconsolately on the
side of the bed, half hoping to hearthe jingle ofthe I
dinner-bell; but it did not come. Instead of that, "DEAR! DIEAR WHAT AN APPETITE BOYS DO HAVE!
the lower door opened, and a shrill scream came which she hated to peel, and boiled cabbage,-
up: which she could just manage to swallow.
Come to dinner, children! Mr. Primkins did not ask her what she would
"Children, again !" said Nimpo. "I'll show have. He piled a plate up with beef, potatoes, and
her- cabbage, and handed it over to her in such a mat-
They found the dinner table in the kitchen, to ter of course way, that she could not say a word.
Nimpo's horror. He did the same with Rush. Rush was hungry,-
"You can set right down there," said Mrs. did you ever know a boy who wasn't ?-and he
Primkins, pointing to a chair on one side proceeded to dispose of his plateful; but Robbie
of the table, "and Robbie can have the high began to fret.







1874.] BEING A BOY. 165


"Nimpo, I don't want that meat. I want some "Let him eat," was Mr. Primkins' remark, bc-
fat meat. I don't like that potato-it's a black tween two mouthfuls, "he's a-growin'."
potato." That was the only remark he made. As soon as
"Never mind!" whispered Nimpo, blushing; he had finished, he pushed back his chair, took his
" I '11 fix it." hat and went out. Mrs. Primkins also left the
Don't fix it !-take away that meat! Robbie table the moment she had finished, and, finally,
went on, ready to cry. Nimpo found herself left alone with Robbie, who
Nimpo hastily slipped the meat upon her own was very slow to eat, lingering as little folks will.
plate, peeled Robbie's potato, and mashed it for "Come, Bub, ain't you through ?" said Mrs.
him, gave him a piece of fat from her plate, and Primkins. "I can't dawdle round all day. I want
after a while, with burning cheeks, was ready to to get the dishes done up."
cram her own dinner down. Nimpo hurried him off, and rushed up stairs
Meantime, Rush had emptied his plate, and pass- once more, in a blaze of indignation, while Mrs.
ed it up for more, at which Mrs. Primkins, who was Primkins said to herself, as she cleared the table-
nibbling around the edge of hers, said. "Too many airs for my time o' day the pert
"Dear! dear what an appetite boys do have !" little huzzy can't eat corned beef! humph I '11
-adding, as she saw Nimpo's indignant face: have to take her down a bit, 'fore I can live with
"What would n't I give if I could eat like a her," and by the way the table-cloth was jerked
boy off, you'd think she meant to do it, too..
(To be continued.)






BEING A BOY.

BY CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER.

IF I was obliged to be a boy, and a boy in the better and more useful boy day by day. Solomon
country-the best kind of boy to be, in the summer would not disobey his parents and eat green apples
-I would be about ten years of age. As soon as I -not even when they were ripe enough to knock
got any older, I would quit it. The trouble with a off with a stick-but he had such a longing for
boy is that just as he begins to enjoy himself he is them, that he pined, and passed away. If
too old, and has to be set to doing something else. he had eaten the green apples he would have died
If a country boy were wise he would stay at just that of them, probably; so that his example is a difficult
age when he could enjoy himself most, and have one to follow. In fact, a boy is a hard subject to
the least expected of him in the way of work. get a moral from, any way. All his little play-
Of course the perfectly good boy will always pre- mates who ate green apples came to Solomon's
fer to work and to do "chores" for his father and funeral, and were very sorry for what they had
errands for his mother and sisters, rather than enjoy done.
himself in his own way. I never saw but one such John was a very different boy from Solomon, not
boy. He lived in the town of Goshen-not the half so good, nor half so dead. He was a farmer's
place where the butter is made, but a much better boy, as Solomon was, but he did not take so much
Goshen than that. And I never saw him, but I interest in the farm. If John could have had his
heard of him; and being about the same age, as I way he would have discovered a cave full of dia-
supposed, I was taken once from Zoah, where I monds, and lots of nail-kegs full of gold pieces and
lived, to Goshen to see him. But he was dead. Spanish dollars, with a pretty little girl living in the
He had been dead almost a year, so that it was im- cave, and two beautifully caparisoned horses, upon
possible to see him. He died of the most singular which, taking the jewels and money, they would
disease: it was from not eating green apples in the have ridden off together, he did not know where.
season of them. This boy, whose name was Solo- John had got thus far in his studies, which were
mon, before he died, would rather split up kindling- apparently arithmetic and geography, but were in re-
wood for his mother than go a-fishing-the conse- ality the "Arabian Nights," and other books of high
quence was that he was kept at splitting kindling- and mighty adventure. He was a simple country
wood and such work most of the time, and grew a boy, and did not know much about the world as it







166 BEING A BOY. [JANUARY,


is, but he had one of his own imagination, in which of young prince himself. I fancy he didn't look
he lived a good deal. I dare say he found out soon much like one. But of his own appearance he
enough what the world is, and he had a lesson or thought not at all, as he replied to the lady's ques-
two when he was quite young, in two incidents, tion, without the least embarrassment:
which I may as well relate. It's sweet-flag stalk; would you like some? "
If you had seen John at this time you might have "Indeed, I should like to taste of it," said the
thought he was only a shabbily dressed country lady with a most winning smile. "I used to be
lad, and you never would have guessed what beau- ever so fond of it when I was a little girl."
tiful thoughts he sometimes had as he went stub- John was delighted that the lady should like
bing his toes along the dusty road, nor what a -.. i,. and that she was pleased to accept it
chivalrous little fellow he was. You would have from him. He thought himself that it was about
seen a short boy, barefooted, with trousers at once the best thing to eat he knew. He handed up a
too big and too' short, held up perhaps by one sus- large bunch of it. The lady took two or three
pender only, a checked cotton shirt, and a hat of stalks, and was about to return the rest, when
braided palmleaf, frayed at the edges and bulged John said:
up in the crown. It is impossible to keep a hat "Please keep it all, ma'am. I can get lots,
neat if you use it to catch bumble-bees and whisk more. I know where it's ever so thick."
'em ; to bail the water from a leaky boat; to catch Thank you, thank you," said the lady; and as.
minnows in; to put over honey-bees' nests, and to the carriage started she reached out her hand to.
transport pebbles, strawberries, and hens' eggs. John. He did not understand the motion, until
John usually carried a sling in his hand, or a bow, he saw a cent drop in the road at his feet. In-
or a limber stick, sharp at one end, from which he stantly all his illusion and his pleasure vanished.
could sling apples a great distance. If he walked Something like tears were in his eyes as he
in the road, he walked in the middle of it, scuffing shouted:
up the dust; or if he went elsewhere, he was likely I don't want your cent. I don't sell flag "
to be running on the top of the fence or the stone John was intensely mortified. I suppose," he-
wall, and chasing chipmunks. said, "she thought I was a sort of beggar-boy. To.
John knew the best place to dig sweet-flag in all think of selling flag "
the farm; it was in a meadow by the river, where At any rate, he walked away and left the cent in
the bobolinks sang so gaily. He never liked to the road, a humiliated boy. The next day he told
hear the bobolink sing, however, for he said it Jim Gates about it. Jim said he was green not to
always reminded him of the whetting of a scythe, take the money; he'd go and look for it now, if he
and that reminded him of spreading hay; and if would tell him about where it dropped. And Jim
there was anything he hated it was spreading hay did spend an hour poking about in the dirt, but he
after the mowers. I guess you wouldn't like it did not find the cent. Jim, however, had an idea;
yourself," said John, with the stubbs getting into he said he was going to dig sweet-flag, and see if
your feet, and the hot sun, and the men getting another carriage wouldn't come along.
ahead of you, all you could do." John's next rebuff and knowledge of the world'
Towards evening, once, John was coming along was of another sort. He was again walking the,
the road home with some stalks of the sweet-flag in road at twilight, when he was overtaken by a
his hand; there is a succulent pith in the end wagon with one seat, upon which were two pretty
of the stalk which is very good to eat, ten- girls, and a young gentleman sat between them,.
der, and not so strong as the root; and John driving. It was a merry party, and. John could
liked to pull it, and carry home what he did not hear them laughing and singing as they approached
cat on the way. As he was walking along he met him. The wagon stopped when it overtook him,
a carriage, which stopped opposite to him; he also and one of the sweet-faced girls leaned from the,
stopped and bowed, as country boys used to do in seat and said, quite seriously and pleasantly:
John's day. A lady leaned from the carriage, and "Little boy, how's your mar? "
Said : John was surprised and puzzled for a moment.
"What have you got, little boy?" He had never seen the young lady, but he thought.
She seemed to be the most beautiful woman that she perhaps knew his mother; at any rate his
John had ever seen; with light hair, dark, tender instinct of politeness made him say:
eyes, and the sweetest smile. There was that in She's pretty well, I thank you."
her gracious mien and in her dress which reminded Does she know you are out?"
John of the beautiful castle ladies, with whom he And thereupon all three in the wagon burst
was well acquainted in books. He felt that he into a roar of laughter, and dashed on.
knew her at once, and he also seemed to be a sort It flashed upon John in a moment that he had'







i874.' JAPANESE GAMES. 167


been imposed on, and it hurt him dreadfully. His You're a nice "-but he couldn't think of any
self-respect was injured somehow, and he felt as if hard, bitter words quick enough.
his lovely, gentle mother had been insulted. He Probably the young lady, who might have been
would like to have thrown a stone at the wagon, almost any young lady, never knew what a cruel
and in a rage, he cried: thing she had done.





JAPANESE GAMES.

BY A JAPANESE BOY.

[Here are three games that may be worth trying during catch, counting from the head toward the other end
the Christnas holidays. They are very popular in Japan; of the row. Then the Oya says, Tore ruka
and I trust American boys and girls will find some fun in
them.--IcHY Zo HA-'rTTO. totte miro" (try to catch if you can).
This is the signal of the battle.
"HEBI NO 0 WO TORO," OR CATCHING The catcher pursues the one whom he named,
SNAKE'S TAIL. and the column moves in all directions, and in any
SEVERAL players choose one, in any manner shape, to defend the Ko."
agreed upon, to be an Oni," or catcher. Then During the struggle, the Oya can stretch his
all but the Oni" stand in a row, one behind the hands to prevent the catcher's progress; but he
other, each one's hand being placed on the shoulder cannot push the catcher, nor can the catcher push
of the player in the front of him or her. The tallest any one in the column.
player generally stands at the head, and the short- If the column is broken, it is foul.
est at the end; or, in the language of the game, When the catcher catches the one whom he aimed
the O," or tail of the row. at, he changes his position, just as in the Hebi no
The Oni" stands, facing the head of the row, 0 wo toro."
at the distance of about twenty feet from him.
Now the play commences. TEMIARI," OR IAND-BALL.
The Oni tries to catch the O," or the tail of THE Temari" is aball about two inches in diam-
the row, while the head of the row and row itself de- eter, and made generally of cotton, wound around
fend the 0."
fend the 0." with thread, so that it keeps its. roundness and is
If the "Oni pushes any one in the row, or the elastic. Its outside is often ornamented with
row is broken, it is foul. different figures, made of threads of various colors.
When the "0" is caught, he or she takes the A number of girls stand in a circle, and one of
position of the Oni," and the retiring "Oni" them-for example, Miss A.-takes the hand-ball,
takes his or her place in the row, and they repeat and throws it perpendicularly on the ground, and
the game. when it rebounds, she strikes it back toward the
1 KO WO TORO." ground with her open hand. If it rebounds again
THE Ko wo toro" is the same as the Catching toward her she continues in the same manner as
Snake's tail" in the arrangement of row and choos- before. Butif'i ii :, the one toward whom the
ing of a catcher. ball flies, or who is the nearest to the direction of the
In Ko wo toro," the head of the row is called flying ball, strikes it toward the ground, as Miss A.
" Oya (father or mother), and the others, Ko has done; and the game continues until any of the
(children). players misses her stroke, or fails to make the ball
When they take their respective positions, the rebound. Then she is cast out of the company,
catcher calls out, Ko wo toro, Ko toro" (will catch and the others play again in the same way as bc-
a child will catch a child !). The Oya asks fore, until another girl fails and is cast away.
then, Dono Ko ga hoshii kaz? (which child do The same process continues until there is left
you want?). To this the catcher answers, calling only one girl,-the one who gets the honor of
the first, second, third, or whichsoever he wants to Kachi," or victory in the game.



------------ -







I68 BABY'S THOUGHTS. [JANUARY,




BABY'S THOUGHTS.

"WHAT is the little one thinking about ?" It is Prince will yet find Cinderella? Does n't she
very easy to guess. The picture book has dropped know that sister Anne will see "somebody coming"
from her hands; mamma-who so often has read its to rescue poor Mrs. Blue Beard just at the right
fairy tales to her-has left the room, and while moment, and does n't she know that Jack-the-








-7--


-- -'- '" -.l
i 7-













wonderful fancies are flitting through her little tressed damsels?
head. And are not the fairies whispering pretty things
She sees Cinderella rushing home from the ball, in her ear; and is n't Puss-in-boots standing, cap
leaving her beautiful glass slipper behind her; she in hand, to wish her a merry Christmas ?
sees Blue Beard lift his cruel scimitar over his What wonder mamma finds Baby as bright as a
poor, inquisitive little wife ; she sees Jack-the- rose when she comes in!
Giant-Killer marching away to deeds of deadly We must tell you that this lovely picture of Baby
daring, was drawn for ST. NICHOLAS, by a young girl now
But," yo say, these are not pleasant things studying art in Italy. Her sketch has come a long
to think about; it would be well for mamma to way, to be sure-from Capri to New York-but
come back." what are a few thousand miles compared to the won-
Ah! that is the best part of it. Baby never was derful, wonderful distances reached by Baby's
happier. Does n't she know very well that the thoughts



THE BEE AND THE BUTTERFLY.

"DEAR me! dear me Oh, my! oh, my!"
Said a busy bee, Said a butterfly,
I'm always making honey,- "I'm always eating honey;
No time to play, And yet I play
But work all day. The livelong day.
Is n't it very funny- Is n't it very funny-
Very, very funny Very, very funny?"





8741j FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS. 169

BERTIE.

"I so awful bad! Santy Claus won't come down the chim-
ney one bit," said little Bertie, and he began to cry. Bertie
was not four years old, and he did not know
just how to act. He had pulled the cat's
tail, and upset the milk-pan, and, oh, dear!
worse than all, he had gone behind his "
grandma when she was bending over the. j- "
fire, and said Boo! so loud that it made her
jump, and drop her spectacles, pop! into the
tea-kettle. So he sat down on the floor, with his old fur cap
on, to think about it; for this was Christmas eve.
But bless his heart! Grandma loved him if he did say
Boo! at her. So did Mamma and Papa, and so did Pussy,
and so did Santa Claus When it was bed-time for Bertie,
he wanted Grandma to go to bed, too, though it was not
dark, so that Santa Claus would be sure to come. Grandma
put on a funny cap, and hid under the bed-clothes, and
Bertie hung up his stocking before he said
S" hi pra er. Then he squeezed his eyes
tig. i tight shut, and went to sleep. In the
: Inight Santa Claus came, and before he
.' ,i I .' a candL cat, a top, a ball, an or-
'-, -- ..,"1' i ange, a barking dog
'"y, I',-' ,- -"-i';) -' ..; i _.-i, -- ..... *,
:. and a jumping Jack,
1 I I 'i' 1 all went softly into
1-7.i' I.. Bertie's stocking, and
f "' ;'" .... ----" waited for him to open
his eyes.
".qi '^A 0'" 'Oh, how glad he
I.. was when he woke in
S-. the morning!







170 NEW TOYS AND GAMES FOR TIHE CHILDREN. [JANUARY,



HALF A LOAF IS BETTER THAN NO BREAD.
(Translation of FYrnc/l Story in December Number.)

FEW young persons know the origin of this cele- The noble mother, in her anguish at losing half
brated proverb, of her loaf, instantly rushed to the door, and threw
In the year eleven hundred and eleven, the the remaining half at the wicked animal.
Grand Duchess Caroline Van Swing and her four This, hitting him on the head, made him drop
lovely children assembled in the state kitchen of his prize and howl pitifully. Meantime, a donkey
her castle, to enjoy their simple breakfast. In passing by swallowed both parts of the loaf in two
those early days condensed milk was not known, so mouthfuls. The dog returned to the house, hum-
the poor noble children were obliged to use com- bled and penitent.
mon milk; but they had condensed bread, and "He will never steal again," said the Grand
that was a great satisfaction. The Grand Duchess Duchess, gazing fondly at her weeping children.
herself made ready to prepare the meal, for, said Why do you weep, my dears? But for the half
she, with tears of affection, "Though a duchess, loaf left in my hands, I could never have punished
am I not a mother?" And the yells of her Athelponto. Console yourselves. Do you not see
hungry little ones answered the question most that half a loaf is better than no bread?"
eloquently. "O yes, mother!" cried those noble children,
The noble lady, taking up a loaf, then seized the quite .!!"'i to go without their breakfast, since
very knife with which her noble grandsire had con- Athelponto was cured of a bad fault.
quered a hundred foes. Brandishing it in the air Alas! what boy or girl of the present day would
for an instant, she soon, with one powerful, steady so sacrifice comfort to principle ?
stroke, cut the condensed loaf in two, after the The saying of the Grand Duchess has been
manner of all noble duchesses. As she did so, the handed down from generation to generation, but
severed half fell to the ground with a loud sound, its meaning has changed. When the mothers of
and the family clog, which had been watching the to-day wish to teach their children to be contented
Duchess, leaped forth from his corner of the great with a little, they say: "Half a loaf is better than
fire-place. Seizing the bread with his jaws, he no bread."
bounded from the room, bearing his prize, amid The world is not so heroic as it was in the days
the cries and screams of her dear children. of the Grand Duchess Caroline Van Swing.






NEW TOYS AND GAMES FOR THE CHILDREN.

ST. NICHOLAS expects to be always on the look- will set one thinking of what he never thought of
out for new games and playthings, so that our little before; and Crispino" is one of the best games out.
folk and their parents may be told the latest inven- Popular Characters from Dickens," is also a
tions from Toy-land. But this number goes to press new, and a most interesting game.
too early for us to speak of all the beautiful and Another new game is called Spectrum, or
wonderful things that are in store for the coming Prismatic Backgammon." It may be played by
holidays. any number from two to six, and is very exciting.
So far, we have been able to examine only a few It can be learned by seeing the game played once,
games, some of which are new, and all good, and and the newest player will often go far ahead of all
well worth recommending to our young friends. his competitors.
For the older children, one of the new games is We must not omit "Totem," a capital little
"Naval Chess; or, The Admiral's Blockade," a game for the wee ones, with fine pictures of birds
capital entertainment, not complicated, but with and beasts.
all the absorbing interest of chess. And we must tell about Avilude," or the game
The Ouartette Game of American History," is of birds. It has sixty-four large cards, of unusual
another. It is historical, amusing and instructive, beauty. On thirty-two are excellent engravings
The Lightning Express; or, How to Travel," of birds, and on the others are correct and en-







170 NEW TOYS AND GAMES FOR TIHE CHILDREN. [JANUARY,



HALF A LOAF IS BETTER THAN NO BREAD.
(Translation of FYrnc/l Story in December Number.)

FEW young persons know the origin of this cele- The noble mother, in her anguish at losing half
brated proverb, of her loaf, instantly rushed to the door, and threw
In the year eleven hundred and eleven, the the remaining half at the wicked animal.
Grand Duchess Caroline Van Swing and her four This, hitting him on the head, made him drop
lovely children assembled in the state kitchen of his prize and howl pitifully. Meantime, a donkey
her castle, to enjoy their simple breakfast. In passing by swallowed both parts of the loaf in two
those early days condensed milk was not known, so mouthfuls. The dog returned to the house, hum-
the poor noble children were obliged to use com- bled and penitent.
mon milk; but they had condensed bread, and "He will never steal again," said the Grand
that was a great satisfaction. The Grand Duchess Duchess, gazing fondly at her weeping children.
herself made ready to prepare the meal, for, said Why do you weep, my dears? But for the half
she, with tears of affection, "Though a duchess, loaf left in my hands, I could never have punished
am I not a mother?" And the yells of her Athelponto. Console yourselves. Do you not see
hungry little ones answered the question most that half a loaf is better than no bread?"
eloquently. "O yes, mother!" cried those noble children,
The noble lady, taking up a loaf, then seized the quite .!!"'i to go without their breakfast, since
very knife with which her noble grandsire had con- Athelponto was cured of a bad fault.
quered a hundred foes. Brandishing it in the air Alas! what boy or girl of the present day would
for an instant, she soon, with one powerful, steady so sacrifice comfort to principle ?
stroke, cut the condensed loaf in two, after the The saying of the Grand Duchess has been
manner of all noble duchesses. As she did so, the handed down from generation to generation, but
severed half fell to the ground with a loud sound, its meaning has changed. When the mothers of
and the family clog, which had been watching the to-day wish to teach their children to be contented
Duchess, leaped forth from his corner of the great with a little, they say: "Half a loaf is better than
fire-place. Seizing the bread with his jaws, he no bread."
bounded from the room, bearing his prize, amid The world is not so heroic as it was in the days
the cries and screams of her dear children. of the Grand Duchess Caroline Van Swing.






NEW TOYS AND GAMES FOR THE CHILDREN.

ST. NICHOLAS expects to be always on the look- will set one thinking of what he never thought of
out for new games and playthings, so that our little before; and Crispino" is one of the best games out.
folk and their parents may be told the latest inven- Popular Characters from Dickens," is also a
tions from Toy-land. But this number goes to press new, and a most interesting game.
too early for us to speak of all the beautiful and Another new game is called Spectrum, or
wonderful things that are in store for the coming Prismatic Backgammon." It may be played by
holidays. any number from two to six, and is very exciting.
So far, we have been able to examine only a few It can be learned by seeing the game played once,
games, some of which are new, and all good, and and the newest player will often go far ahead of all
well worth recommending to our young friends. his competitors.
For the older children, one of the new games is We must not omit "Totem," a capital little
"Naval Chess; or, The Admiral's Blockade," a game for the wee ones, with fine pictures of birds
capital entertainment, not complicated, but with and beasts.
all the absorbing interest of chess. And we must tell about Avilude," or the game
The Ouartette Game of American History," is of birds. It has sixty-four large cards, of unusual
another. It is historical, amusing and instructive, beauty. On thirty-two are excellent engravings
The Lightning Express; or, How to Travel," of birds, and on the others are correct and en-








iT.] NEW TOYS AND GAMES FOR THE CHILDREN. 171


tertaining descriptions of the same, which players Lozette," which promises considerable amuse-
are sure to read. Old and young will be inter- ment. It is of the same class asthe "Trap Game,"
ested in this scientific, yet delightful entertain- and Lozo Pendulum Board."
ment. Of toy picture books, the '" Little Folk Series,"
"The Checkered Game of Life" is not new, and Uncle Ned's Picture Books," are just out.
but is very captivating-quite as much so as are the Also, four kinds of gilt-covered picture books; among
new games, Eskcmeo and The Lucky Tray- them, Dickens' Christmas Story," illustrated by
eler," which last, however, are certainly very enter- Thomas Nast. The immortal Mother Goose makes
training and amusing. The new Railroad Game," her appearance in a new dress; and Dolly Varden
and the games of "Authors," "Poets," "My- paper dolls of large size, have "come out" for
thology," and Popular Quotations," will tend to the first time this season.
make young Solomons of the children before they The funniest new steam-engine toy is a colored
know it; while "1Poetical Pot-Pie" (a tip-top game), gentleman, who stands on a platform on top of a
" Silhouette Comicalities" revised, the Old Cu- little steam engine. Fire up the engine, and he
riosity Shop," The Tickler," The House that has to dance, whether he wishes to or not.
Jack Built" (a Kindergarten game), Comic Por- Of banks, a most useful gift in these hard times,
traitures," and the ever new Zoetrope," will the new one has a race-course on top, to show you
cause them to laugh and grow fat. where you must not put your money. It is a very
Of puzzles, that are new, we have: "The Blind comical bank, indeed.
Abbot and Monks," a mathematical puzzle; Ja- Another bank, not so new, but just as good, has
panese Pictures," and "Scroll" puzzles; the "Jack- a great bull-frog sitting on the top. You pinch his
o'-Lantern," and Star Alphabet puzzles. foot, and he opens his mouth, into which you pop
"The Chinese Perforated Target" is an excel- the money, when he immediately winks at you-
lent puzzle, which will amuse and delight both old as much as to say, "'That was fine! Give me
and young. another."
The Eureka" puzzle is a mystery, with a string, It would be a hopeless task to attempt to enume-
which is never ending, and always beginning; and rate all the delights in preparation for our young
the Centennial" is a wire tease, hard to find out. friends of ST. NICHOLAS.
The new Cage puzzle will put the girls and There are many other games to be found in the
boys on their mettle. The difficulty is to get the shops, not new, but dear to the boy and girl heart,,
ball out of the cage, without injury to the columns. such as "Ring-toss," "Magic Hoops," and '"Parlor
The Magical Trick Box is a delightful source Croquet." "Sriashedup Locomotive," "Dissected
of amusement. A boy can carry it in his pocket to Yacht," and "Flag of all Nations," will please the
a party, and delight his friends all the'evening, boys. "Uncle Raphael's Puzzle-Chromos," and
with its help. "Popping the Question," and many others, will
The Spectograph" is a novel invention, by delight the girls.
means of which a child may make an accurate Then there are the mechanical toys and small
drawing without any previous instruction. It would steam engines, and very curious running rings.
be a precious gift for a little invalid, which tumble, tumble, and yet are never gone;
Another admirable amusement for the little ones, and the centenary gun or cannon, which you can
sick or well, is the Kindergarten Weaving and load Monday morning and pop away until Satur-
Braiding Work." Paper mats, dolls' carpets, tidies, day night, in the most perfectly safe and delightful
&c., can be woven by their cunning little fingers, manner.
with one or two lessons. If we were to go on with all that is made for the
The Kindergarten Alphabet and Building delight of children ST. NICHOLAS would have to
Blocks is a great invention. The child learns to be a book too big for a giant to handle; so we must
read, while he thinks he is playing. stop.
The Combination Tc. -i 1.... I are also excel- Our boys and girls who wish any of these toys,
lent. Furniture, buildings, boats, forts.--hundreds may find them at nearly all the leading toy shops
of objects,-can be constructed by these blocks, in the United States. Other shops also sell toys
making of them an endless source of amusement, and games during the holiday season, but that.
There is a new table or carpet game, called, seems hardly fair.







172 JACK- IN-THE-PULPIT. [JANUAIY,

to the floor. Harry had nc-:c seen such things
-- .. I-'' '" -" "' ? before. It was a very hot summer day, and as the
*- "" little fellow soon became tired of playing by himself
SI' I in the sun, he slipped into the quiet parlor, and
S', lying down on a sofa opposite one of these big
S.. .. mirrors, fell asleep. After a while he awoke; rub-
bing his eyes as he stood up, he saw a boy rubbing
S" his eyes, too. He looked at him wonderingly, then
Si i "' -- rcely, and the boy looked just as fiercely at him.
S' "i ." ". '_ i- a moment Harry doubled up his fist, and the
S'~ -.- did the same. This was too much to bear and
r.6 lie darted towards the boy (as he thought) and
S V -' lashing his fist against the mirror, broke it in a
tI thousand pieces.
-- I i- -' -.- -.a_.: Hearing the crash, his mother ran'in from the
j L N T i i i next room, and poor Harry, picking himself up, all
scratched and bleeding, cried out, He began it
first."
A MERRY CHRISTMAS to you, my dears, and a THE FOOLISH TADPOLES.
very Happy New Year TALKING of quarrels reminds me of two tad-
And now, before we begin the paragrams let us poles I heard wrangling one day in our pond.
give three rousing cheers for ST. NICHOLAS. All Tadpoles are the queerest looking things that
join in. Hip, hip, hurrah ever swam-no legs at all, very long tails, bright
Once more,- Again,- Ha! ha! that black eyes, round bodies, and thin skins.
was a good one. Now you shall hear what the Said the larger tadpole to the smaller, I do
birds have been telling me: wish I had legs just to kick you with. You're the
A FLOATING COLLEGE. sauciest tadpole I ever saw."
SOMEBODY has started a new idea. He proposes What did I do to you ? asked the other.
that, as a change from stationary colleges, there You know what you did," replied the larger;
shall be a steamship fitted up just like a college on "You made faces at me."
dry land in every respect, except that it is to be set "I did n't," said the small one.
afloat and sent wandering about the world. In this You did; and awful faces, too," said the other;
way students may study geography by going right "I 'm so mad I feel as though I could burst, and
to the spot, and in fact see for themselves all that now, I think of it again, I qwill burst !" And he
they are studying about this funny globe and its did burst; and his skin fell off. Next his tail began
men and manners. Pretty good idea; but I'm to disappear, and he displayed four lovely legs !
afraid the freshman class will be hanging over the "Well, I never!" said the small tadpole,
edge of the-college, in a wilted condition, most of Where did you get those legs ? And, now that
the time; that they 'll get sick of the thing, in you have got them, are you going to kick me ?"
short. I told a sea-gull friend of mine about it the When I wanted to kick you," answered the
other day and he said it was his opinion that the other, puffing himself out until he was as round as a
land-gulls were getting rather ahead this time. ball, "I was a tadpole. Now,, Ia a F R 0 G, and
HE BEGAN IT FIRST. you are beneath my notice! Swim away, sonny."
WE Jack-in-the-Pulpits get heartily tired of the THE PACIFIC CABLE.
never-ending quarrel as to whether Katy-did or You know that we have an Atlantic cable to
"Katy didn't." But I'm told that humankind bring us news every morning of what the kings
have queer ways, too, in their disputes and tiffs, and emperors and the peoples of Europe are doing
They're very apt to think that if zhey don't begin day by day. Across the blue Atlantic ocean, three
a fight they 've a right to keep it up in about any thousand miles wide, the telegraph wires are stretch-
way they choose. A dear old crow lately told me ed, and people on either side can talk with one
this true story about a boy named Harry, who used another, as if they were near neighbors.
to get angry very quickly and revenge himself right And before many months there is to be a Pacific
off. His parents usually made light of his quarrels cable; yes, across the great ocean, ten thousand
if Harry only said of the other fellow he began it miles wide, that lies between America and Asia.
first." So it came to be a common excuse with When this long cable is stretched across under
him. Once he went with his mother to visit a rich the waves, your papa will read to your mamma at
family who had mirrors reaching from the ceiling breakfast, all about the important events that have








1874. JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT. 173


happened in Japan and China the day before; and sirs ? Certainly not," said the teachers, looking
you children can order your Chinese fire-crackers by very much astonished.
telegraph. By the way, I ought to tell you that the teachers,
QUIPS AND CATCHES. just before, had been asking some school questions
HERE are some hints for a good time when of the children, and looking very solemn and disap-
you're sitting with the folks around the fire. A pointed because the poor little things could n't
magpie told them to a friend of mine: answer them.
The Reverend Mr. Duzzen, when asked how many "It's a very easy lesson, sirs," said Hal, the
little girls he had, replied, "I've seven boys, and mischievous youngster ; "none of 'em over four
a sister for each." How many children had he? letters, and my papa says they're all good words out
Why, eight, of course. But I'11 wager most of Webster's big dictionary, not obsolute either."
Jacks would say fourteen. Try them. Obsolete, Hal," corrected the teacher, in a
A blind beggar had a brother. The brother died. bland but awful voice.
But the deceased never had a brother. Now what Obsolete, sir," said Hal, meekly; so he opened
relation was the blind beggar to the deceased? out the bit of paper and began to "hear the
(Whisper.)-_.... siT.. teachers," with the other five children all looking
Jabez slept on the very top floor of the cottage. over his shoulder.
Now, what was the reason he always got up to Spell and define, GITH."
breakfast and always went down to dinner? "G-i-t-h, gith," said the teachers, but they
Ans.-Because he had a good appetite, could n't give any definition.
I was half an hour trying to guess that. If "GOWT."
there's anything I do dread it is a ridiculous, chat- G-o-u-t," said the teachers.
ting magpie. Wrong," says Hal; it's G-o-w-t." But the
A parrot-friend of mine, who pronounces her teachers did n't know of any such word.
words abominably, once asked me what amphibious Well, Hal kept on the list, and only two words
animal I'd make, if I were to smash a clock, in the whole lot could those teachers answer!
When I gave it up, she said, Why, you'd crack They laughed in spite of themselves, and it seemed
a dial, of course. Pretty Poll !" as if the children would have fits. As for me, I
BAD READING. shook so that I frightened off three butterflies who
THE other day a little chap sat near my neighbor were going to alight on my shoulder.
Here 's Hal's list. Suppose you try it on some
Sumac, reading book. And, when suddenly he saw H 's H s it. uoe you ry i on some
his father coming along, he clapped the book out of the big folks in your neighborhood. Turn about
sight, and stood up in great confusion, waiting for his is fair play:
father to pass by. Now, I didn't like that; and I SARD ANL L AW N NOG NEBOUCH GOWT
DOIT OST HIN HOLM WHIN OUCH GOWT
herewith advise that boy and all other boys, never AGIO GITH AI SHAG AIT ANTA HOLT
to read anything they're ashamed of. Open out FLOWER CROSSES BY THE WAY-SIDE.
every page you read, full and free in God's light HERE is something about Brittany, in France.
and presence, as you must, and if it isn't fit to be Many of the little boys and girls, who live there,
opened so, don't read it at all. watch, all day long, the cows in the fields, or flocks
Bad reading is a deadly poison; and I, for one, of sheep on the hills. But the hours would be
would like to see the poisoners-that is, the men who tedious if they sat with their hands folded all the
furnish it-punished like any other murderers;- time. So, while sitting on the green earth, watch-
yes, and more,-for it's worse to kill the soul than ing the cows sleepily chewing their cud, or the
to kill the body. sheep browsing on the grass, the little peasants
In my opinion, parents are not half watchful busy themselves in making flower crosses. They
enough in this matter, and if I were you young folks, always form the cross with the branches of the
I would n't stand it. furze,'and then fasten to its thorns daisies and the
EASY SPELLING LESSON FOR BIG FOLK. pretty flowers of the broom; and when the cross is
I HEARD some fun the other day. Half a dozen done, they set it up by the way-side in the hedge
youngsters were down our meadow with a couple of fences. Sometimes a long row of these flower
teachers digging for sassafras roots. After a while crosses may be seen on the hedges. Do you know
they sat down close by me to rest, and one of the what Jack thinks? Jack thinks that it's a very
boys, as mischievous a little chap as you'll see in a good plan to set up flower crosses along the hedges
month of Sundays, took a bit of paper out of his of life; and that, when real flowers are scarce, these
pocket and says to the teachers: Would you crosses can be made of kind looks and pleasant
mind saying an easy spellin' lesson to us children, words. Is n't it so, my dears ?








174 BOOKS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. [JANUARY,




BOOKS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS.

JUST now, in anticipation of the holidays, the Maitl's Follies, and other stories, by Mary N.
publishers are showering down their gift-books by Prescott, is another handsome volume from Messrs.
the dozen, in bindings gay as autumn leaves. One J. R. Osgood & Co.
would almost think ST. NICHOLAS had tumbled his Though Matt is a "live" boy, up to mischief in
whole library out for the benefit of his boys and every shape and form, we like him immensely; but
girls; for the very prettiest of all are for them; but, we pity Aunt Jane, and hope that, for her sake, at
of course, the dear old saint cannot be expected to least, the young man will try to mend his ways.
put on his glasses, and read them, every one, with All the stories in this book are bright, happy and
his own eyes. He seems to take it for granted that wholesome.
whatever is written for his little folks will be sweet
and wholesome, and he leaves it for the parents From Robert Carter & Bros. comes Fanny's
and friends to select the book that suits them best. Birthday .Gift, by that charming writer, Joanna H.
In this, some are guided by the publishers, some Mathews.
by the author's name, and some by the color of the One of the heroes of this pleasant story is Robbie,
binding. But, alas a gay binding is often a de- Fanny's little brother, who, on her birthday, pre-
lusion, and even an author's name may occasion- sents to her a picture of his own execution. Like
ally mislead one as to the nature of a book. Take, many another production of genius, it is something
for example, Miss Phelps' new story, in its gold of a puzzle at first, but proves, according to Robbie's
and purple covers, just issued by Osgood & Co., explanation to be "Balaam's ass carrying' on and
of Boston. kickin' up like anything, 'cause the Philistines tied
SMiss Phelps is a delightful writer, and her fear- a tin kettle to his tail; and George Washington,
less pen has done good service in many a worthy who was always kind to animals, was trying' to take
cause; but, for all that, we cannot help feeling that it off." How Fanny kept a straight face when that
Trolly's WVedding Tour is a sad mistake. Some of picture was explained; it is hard to see; but she
us have heard of Trotty before, how he married did,-the book says so,-and thanked the little ar-
Miss Nita Thayer; and he is the same foolish boy tist just as heartily as she thanked the others for
still. If he goes on as he has begun, he hardly can their more elegant gifts.
fail to become either a Blue Beard or a Brigham
Young. But, poor little fellow I he is to be pitied There is a book-Sfedman's Poems-just pub-
rather than blamed; for, certainly of himself, so lished by Osgood & Co.-which we have read with
mere a baby could never have learned the meaning great satisfaction, and which, though it is not a child's
of duels and divorces. If he were the Last Boy, book, we should like to see given to every young
then the Last Man and his wife could afford to be person we know. The poems all are in pure, simple
very much amused by him; but, for the sake of all English, and nearly all have a grand story to tell.
little boys and. girls, present and to come, we are Better still, they are the songs of a true poet,-an
sorry his history has been invented. American poet,-who, ripe scholar and man of the
world that he is, still cherishes his youth, and has
We turn with a sense of relief from Trotty and an echo in his ringing verse for all that is highest
his unhappy little wives to Phzil/ier's Child-Life, in in the heart of a noble boy or girl.
Pr-ose, published by the same house.
"The soul of genius and the heart of childhood Chi/dren of fhe Olden Time, re-published by
are one," says the poet-editor; and the book is a Scribner, Armstrong & Co., is an out-of-the-com-
collection of some of the daintiest and brightest bits mon and instructive book, by the author of "A Trap
of genius to be found in children's literature. 'As in to Catch a Sunbeam," and one of the most fascinat-
" Child-Life in Poetry,"-the companion book to ing little volumes we have seen for many a day.
the present volume,-Mr. Whittier has been assisted Though dedicated to the children of England, it
by Miss Lucy Larcom, of whose taste and judgment will be equally attractive to the children on this
he makes grateful mention in the preface; and the side of the ocean.
thanks of our little folk are due to both these gentle
friends. Five tasteful books come to our table, just as this
The book is handsomely bound and illustrated; number of ST. NICHOLAS is going to press:
and boys and girls who now turn its pages with de- The first, W7hat Kat/y Did at Sc/haol (Roberts
light, will like it better and better as the years go on. Bros.), is a sequel to What IKaty Did, by good








,874.1 THE RIDDLE BOX. [75

Susan Coolidge, who holds one of the brightest and a good many ideas, we should say, judging from
bravest pens that ever wrote for young readers, the table of contents, which is a boy's novel in itself.
The second is, Giles' Minority, by Mrs. Robert And then there are two others, (from Macmillan
O'Reilly, whose Doll World is a delight to all real & Co). Queer Folk, by Mr. Knatchbull-Hugesscn,
girls and women. who wrote "Tales at Tea-time," and other funny
The third, by Mrs. Eiloart (from G. P. Put- books; and Young Prince Marigold/, by John
nam's Sons), is called, The Boy with an (ea,- Francis Maguire.


THE RIDDLE BOX.

REBUS. CHARADE.
MY first comes from the Emerald Isle,
Or else is given in play;
My second is a useful grain,
S," '' Or else a crooked way.
My last is silver, paper, shell.
-I Sometimes 't is ruddy gold;
Or else it is a Scottish word-
At least, so we are told.

I ii My whole, though hoarded by the sire.
W I I -- s wasted by the son.
S .,- "' With all the hints that I now give.
r--n- s t LM fif is us c, bt My meaning must be won.
SYNCOPATION.
..i .Y name, as you will plainly see,
1 '- Denotes a flower, but not a tree;
_, Syncopate, then give me hay,
And you can ride me far away.

NUMERICAL ENIGMA. CROSS WORD.
I AM composed of 20 letters : MY first is in bugle, but not in horn.
1. My 12, 13, 15, 7,8, 20. Hark! how merrily they My second in meal, but not in corn.
ring on this crisp Christmas morn. My third is in oyster, but not in clam.
2. My 16, 17, I, 5. A twinkling little light, that led My fourth is in sheep, but not in lamb.
the Eastern seekers to our Lord.. My fifth is in cut, but not in shave.
3. My I8, 15, 1o, 17, 13. Dear St. Nick to the hearts My sixth is in good, but not in brave.
of his patrons brings is s My seventh is in dance, but not in jig.
4. My 2, 3. Little reader, it's only I! My eighth is in sloop, but not in brig.
5. My 9, 19, II. Light in this form was the key to a My ninth is in prune, but not in fig.
grand discovery. The letters placed rightly, all clear and distinct,
6. My 12, 13, 8, 14, 4, 6. A tree or its fruit. Will show you a quadruped long since extinct.
My whole, dear friend, sincerely I wish you.

REBUS.


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176 THE RIDDLE BOX. [JANUARY.


REBUS. ELLIPSES.

-~-I. He sits and -- over his--
2. The poor child could only through her

S 1. -.' 3. They kept on the so as to -- their
,. i position.
--.* 4. With his -- he killed three--
,. 5. sometimes wound worse than the--
-- 6. The -- flew to the for shelter.
"/' 7. The was walking on the--
8. She was very clean, and had much --
,,. -. STAR PUZZLE.
S ARRANGE eight words, having the following significa-
'' Il tions, so as to read the same up and down, vertically;
S east and west, horizontally; and, diagonally, right and
|- left, up and down:
,-- i. lTo indent. 2. To put on. 3. To broach. ,. 'o
ell'. i $ ', marry. 5. Extremity. 6. To bend the head. 7. Con-
St. r. venient. 8. Moisture.

-- DECAPITATION.
IN summer's heat and winter's cold,
HIDDEN PARTS OF A TTTTBUI I'm worn by many, young and old;
HIDDEN PARTS OF A BUILDING. Cut off my head, and then behold!
I. No one should be a miser. I'm better far than finest gold,
2. It is a shame to shun the poor. And never bought, and never sold.
3. Did you ever see a vessel wrecked ?
4. You will find your uncle at home. CHARADE.
5. One who is uncivil is illbred. MY first can be a useful slave,
6. I bought some meal at Chandler's. Obedient to your will;
7. Oh what fine potatoes! I will take Yet let him once the master be,
a bushel for Father. He '11 ruin, rage, and kill.
S. Stop O stop! that idle talk To do my second through the air
PU All men have tried in vain,
U L And yet it may be often seen
I Al useful on the farm, and on shipboard. Trans- Upon your window-pane.
pose me, and I am not oat of place on your tables.
Change me to my original form, and remove my middle, My whole on summer nights is seen
and I become a part of your face. What am I ? A fairy lamp to light the green.



ANSWERS TO RIDDLES AND PUZZLES IN THE DECEMBER NUMBER.

CLASSICAL DIAMOND PUZZLE.-Narcissus. SQUARE REMAINDERS.- T-rue
NT-urn
P A N --end
L A R E s
SG A C L E S REBus.-Napoleon. (Nap-pole-on.)
N A R 5 S U S PICTORIAL DOUBLE AcRosTIc.-Plum-tree: Parrot, ladder, um-
B E S I brage, mule.
FUR
S POSITIVES AND COMPARATIVES.-I. Charge, charger. 2. Scamp,
CHARADE.-Season. scamper. 3. Lad, ladder. 4. Tell, teller. 5. Barb, barber. 6.
HIDDEN SQUARE WORDS.- e tDin, dinner.
e c h o PUZZLE -Curious Epitaph:
t w The milk of human kindness was my own dear cherub wife:
I'll never find another one as good in all my life.
DOUBLE ACRosTIc.-Diamond-Emerald. She bloomed, she blossomed, she decayed,
And under this tree her body is laid.
D -anub- E
I -te- h SEVERAL of our young friends have sent answers to the Geo-
A -rticl- E graphical Rebus and other puzzles, and we were glad to hear from
M -urdere- R them all.
O -lla Podrid- A Johnny A., F. E. M., N. O. P., L. P., A. F. E., and A. W. are
N -umera- L correct in their answers. 0. A. W. and New Yorkers" sent the
D -avi- D longest lists of names in answer to the Geographical Rebus.























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FROM A DRAWING BY W. BROOKS. ENGRAVEU PY DAYID NICHOL$.
IN SISTER'S CARE.



















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