• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Edward Jenner
 How the bullfinch is taught to...
 What might have been expected
 The gallant outriders
 Roses and forget-me-nots
 March
 Some curious fishes
 Snowed in
 An odd fellow
 Peter parrot
 Wrecked at home
 Make-believe
 Rascally Sandy
 Elfin Jack, the giant-killer
 Making snow
 Emprunt de peine
 Nimpo's troubles
 The trio
 What the stork saw
 Cossack horsemen
 Fast friends
 About some queer little people
 The kindergarten crow
 Mamie's lecture
 How the snow came
 The last pie
 Hans Ryitzar's breakfast
 Red-top seeing the world
 Good old Sam
 Jack in the pulpit
 The letter box
 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/UF00065513/00006
 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: VID00006
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 2
    Edward Jenner
        Page 241
        Page 242
    How the bullfinch is taught to sing
        Page 243
    What might have been expected
        Page 244
        A meeting on the road
            Page 244
        Bob
            Page 245
            Page 246
        Tony on the war-path
            Page 247
            Page 248
    The gallant outriders
        Page 249
    Roses and forget-me-nots
        Page 250
        Page 251
        Page 252
        Page 253
        Page 254
    March
        Page 255
    Some curious fishes
        Page 256
    Snowed in
        Page 257
        Page 258
        Page 259
        Page 260
        Page 261
    An odd fellow
        Page 262
    Peter parrot
        Page 263
    Wrecked at home
        Page 264
        Page 265
        Page 266
        Page 267
    Make-believe
        Page 268
    Rascally Sandy
        Page 269
        Page 270
        Page 271
    Elfin Jack, the giant-killer
        Page 272
        Page 273
    Making snow
        Page 274
        Page 275
    Emprunt de peine
        Page 276
    Nimpo's troubles
        Page 277
        The first Sunday
            Page 277
        Mrs. Primkins puts Nimpo to work
            Page 278
            Page 279
        Sarah's story
            Page 280
            Page 281
            Page 282
    The trio
        Page 283
    What the stork saw
        Page 284
        Page 285
        Page 286
        Page 287
        Page 288
    Cossack horsemen
        Page 289
    Fast friends
        Page 289
        George opens his heart and his trunk
            Page 289
            Page 290
        Head and heels
            Page 291
            Page 292
        Mr. Fitz Dingle's generous offer
            Page 293
            Page 294
            Page 295
    About some queer little people
        Page 296
        Page 297
        Page 298
    The kindergarten crow
        Page 299
    Mamie's lecture
        Page 300
    How the snow came
        Page 301
    The last pie
        Page 301
        Page 302
    Hans Ryitzar's breakfast
        Page 303
    Red-top seeing the world
        Page 304
    Good old Sam
        Page 305
    Jack in the pulpit
        Page 306
        Page 307
    The letter box
        Page 308
        Page 309
    The riddle box
        Page 310
        Page 311
        Page 312
    Engraving
        Page 313
    Back Cover
        Back cover 1
        Back cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
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ST. NICHOLAS.



VOL. I. MARCH, 1874. No. 5.





EDWARD JENNER.

BY CLARENCE COOK.

As they open the bright pages of this number of father to him. Edward Jenner was very fond of 1
ST. NICHOLAS, I hear the voices of many thousand the country, and nearly all his life was spent in the
children piping out, when they see this frontispiece, neighborhood of the beautiful Vale of Gloucester,
-" Who is he ? "-" Who are they? "-" What is where he had the good fortune to be born. From
that naughty man doing to that poor little boy?" a child, he showed a strong love of nature,-was
And my Tom here, with his long, fair curls tum- ever observing and watching what was going on
bled about his chubby face, and who thinks himself about him. He watched the birds so well, that
a sailor because he has on a blue sailor-suit, with what made his name first heard of in the world
anchors on the collar, wants to know if that big was an account he wrote of the cuckoo, a shy bird
man is going to tattoo the little naked boy ? with strange habits, about whom very little was
Now, this is riot a naughty man at all, but a known before. Edward Jenner told people what
good man-a good, kind-hearted man. And he he had seen with his own eyes of the habits of this
,does not mean to hurt the little boy a bit. If you bird; and what he had to tell was very curious,
look sharp, you will see the boy is a brave chap. and showed a power for patient observation, and a
He is a little scared, to be sure; but he is as ready skill in reasoning, that are certainly very un-
to laugh as to cry. The boy's name is Phipps. common. At that time people were just beginning ,.
.But you shall hear. to study the stones and rocks of which the earth is
The picture is taken from a statue of a celebrated built; and here, again, Edward Jenner was able to
man, by Monteverde, an Italian sculptor, which be of great help, for the part of England where he
was in the Vienna Exposition of last summer. The lived was rich in fossils; and when he was still a
man's name is Jenner-Dr. Edward Jenner. It is boy, he had been attracted by these curious things,
known over the whole civilized world, and when- and had collected the best specimens, and studied
ever it is spoken, some one is pretty sure to think over them, and thought about them, until, at'last,
a grateful thought about the man who owned it, he had come to understand something of their his-
for he made a discovery that has saved the- lives tory, while few other people in the world at that
of thousands of rnen, women, and children. I sup- time knew anything about the wonderful story
pose there never lived a man who was the means these fossils have to tell.
.of saving so many people from dying, and from While Edward Jenner was a young man, working
dying by a horrible disease, as Dr. Jenner. and studying in a surgeon's office in a town called
Edward Jenner was born in Berkeley, Gloucester- Sodbury, near Bristol, which is the chief town of
shire, England, May 17, 1749, nearly 125 years Gloucestershire, he used to hear a good deal of talk
.ago. His father was a well-to-do clergyman, and about the small-pox. This disease makes great
Edward was brought up in comfort, and well trouble in our own time, and when it is prevalent
taught. His father died when he was only five there is hardly any sickness people are more afraid
years old; but his elder brother, who was also a of; but it is not so bad now-a-days as it was in
.clergyman, took care of him, and was as good as a Jenner's time. It was a frightful plague, and car-
VOL. I.-i6.







242 EDWARD JENNER. [MARCH,

ried off in England alone, it is said, 45,000 people to their families, and thus keeping the dreaded
every year Kings died of it, queens, princes, small-pox at a safe distance, and nobody outside
princesses, the rich and the poor, the high and the the farming district seems to have been the wiser
low, the learned and the ignorant. When it ap- for it. And respectable physicians, young and old,
peared in an army, it often slew more than the had been trundling about the country in their gigs,
sword, and our soldiers suffered grievously from this and looking wise, and shaking their heads over the
pestilence in the beginning of the War of Inde- small-pox, and never suspecting that the method
pendence. of preventing it was all the time in use under their
You may believe that many wise heads and kind very eyes. How long this would have gone on
hearts were trying to find out a way to fight this who can tell, if thoughtful Edward Jenner had not
disease. Thirty-one years before Edward Jenner listened to what the milkmaid said that morning in
was born, a bright, witty lady, with a sharp tongue the surgery ? But it set him thinking, in his slow,
but a good heart,-Lady Mary Wortley Montague, steady, earnest way; and the idea once seized, that
-had found that in Turkey, where the small-pox here was the long-desired prevention, he never
raged terribly every year, they had a way of treating lost sight of it until he had proved it beyond
well people so as to give them the disease, but in a a doubt. He thought about it so constantly, and
lighter and less dangerous form than if they took it talked about it so much, that his very friends,-and
inthecommonway. Well persons were willing to be he had friends in all the country-side who loved
made ill in this way, because they knew that small- his company,-became tired of hearing him, and
pox very rarely comes to a person more than once. laughed at him for his forever talking about the .
This was called inoculation, and Lady Mary, to cow-pox and the small-pox. The medical men and
show her faith, had her own son inoculated in scientific men in that country had a club, and
4 1718, and with perfect success. This was thought Jenner would insist so on bringing in his hobby on
a great discovery, and so it was, for she had brought all occasions, that, half in joke and half in earnest,
to notice a great principle; but something was a law was made that neither the small-pox nor cow-
wanting,-no one knew what,-only inoculation pox should ever be mentioned at their meetings!
did not stop the small-pox, nor greatly check it, for But Edward Jenner was too much in earnest to
soon it was raging as badly as ever. be discouraged by snubs of this kind, and he
It may have been fifty years after Lady Mary's kept on thinking and observing for twenty-six
brave experiment upon her son, that while Edward years; and at last, having satisfied himself that vac-
Jenner was an apprentice in that surgeon's office cinating for the small-pox was the true remedy, he
at Sodbury, a young milkmaid came in to the made his first experiment on the 14th of May,
surgery one day, and happening to hear the med- 1796, inoculating a boy by the name of Phipps in
ical men talking about the small-pox, she said that the arm, from a pustule on the hand of a young
she was not afraid of catching it, for she had had woman who had taken the cow-pox from her mas-
the cow-pox. Little she knew what important ter's cows. This was called vaccination, a word
words she had spoken; and, indeed, I suppose they made from vacca," the Latin word for "cow."
only were important because an observing, think- Phipps had the cow-pox, and got well over it.
ing, quick-witted young man stood by to hear Then, on the ist of July, Jenner inoculated him
them. for the small-pox, and, as he had predicted, Phipps
The cow-pox is a disease of the eruptive kind, did not take the disease.
that shows itself on the udders of cows, and is This little boy, then, is Phipps,-bless him He
sometimes caught by the people who are milking is a sturdy youngster, and does not look as pleased
them. It is generally a mild disease, from which as he might at the honor that is being done him !
the cow suffers little, and the human being does Good Dr. Jenner has taken him out of his little bed
not suffer seriously, being lightly ill for only a few and undressed him, so as the better to see him, and
days. Beside, it is not communicated as the small- make sure that he is a healthy3 specimen of the
pox is, by simply coming near the person who is.ill baby species. He has got Phipps so nicely fixed
with that disease; the matter that is in the little that he cannot move, and yet he holds him with
blisters on the cow's udder must get of itself under the utmost gentleness, so that Phipps has no excuse
the skin of a human being, or be put under it, before for crying. How earnest the sturdy, honest doctor
it can be communicated. Now, it seems it had been is in his work Look in his face and you will see
known for many years in the grazing districts ot that, though he is anxious about the result of his
England, that if this were done, and the human twenty-six years' study, yet he has a strong confi-
being had the cow-pox, there was little or no danger dence too, and believes that he has been led into
for him from the small-pox. And the farmers had the way of truth.
been giving themselves the cow-pox, and giving it Dr. Jenner made no secret of his great discovery,







1874.] HOW THE BULLFINCH IS TAUGHT TO SING. 243

-tried to get no patent for it,-but freely gave it to yet it is fifty years after his death, and not in his
the world. The Government, however, rewarded England, but in far-away Italy, that gratitude to
him handsomely, giving him 1o,ooo in 1802, and his memory is spoken in a statue !
20o,ooo five years later, in 1807. But he did not Since this discovery of vaccination, the terrors of
care for money, and he did not work for fame, so small-pox have nearly disappeared, and with good
he continued to live quietly in his pleasant country nursing, intelligent physicians are not much afraid
home, amid his old friends and the old scenes, of it. In many countries the government obliges
Until his sudden, peaceful death in February, 1823, every person to be vaccinated, and those who can-
in the seventy-fourth year of his age. Few men not pay a doctor are vaccinated free of charge at
have lived so happily, or have done so much good, the public dispensaries.




HOW THE BULLFINCH IS TAUGHT TO SING.

BY R. E. HALE.

Boys and girls are not the only little folk who fire. He is not naturally a singer, nor is he half so
attend singing classes, as you shall know when you clever as our American mocking-bird. In fact, he
Shear about the piping bullfinch, seems rather stupid, but he is willing to learn; and
In shape and size this bullfinch is somewhat so it happens that if you persevere long enough you
like the sparrows in our city parks, but he has a can teach him to sing a tune.
very different head. The sparrow, you know, has The country people of Germany have found this
a trim, quick little pate of his own. Not so the bull- out. There the peasants take great delight in train-
ing bullfinches. Their
I, pupils, not being very
.I i I bright, as I said before,
,i are stupidly hopping
Sbll a. y h well ni about their cages, when
'pi II "'suddenly they hear a
.. ':1 ~ tune played upon a vio-
,I lin. They prick up their
o~aI_l ears,-or would do so
if they could,-and be-
gin to listen, quite un-
I conscious that that very
same violin has been
playing that very same
tune for about a week
without their noticing
it. But it is something
to catch their atten-
IT tion. Day after day,
-- -for months, the patient
teacher goes over and
over the same tune to
the listening birds until
human listeners begin
to wonder which will get
I.crazy first, the bullfinch
or the player. But by
S-- and by the birds begin
HE HAS CAUGHT THE TUNE! to pick up the air, piping
finch. His is a clumsy affair-in fact, he has a sort the simple parts at first, and taking up note after
of bull" head and neck; so, you see, he is well note until, at last, they know the whole thing by
named. Besides, his body is nearly as black as a heart. Sometimes a rustic father spends half his
coal, and his throat is as red as if the coal were on time all winter teaching one little patient bird, and








244 WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED. [MARCH,

the children look on with the greatest interest. Or cases a small hurdy-gurdy, or "bird organ" is used,
a boy will undertake the task, and when he at last as being less difficult and tiresome than the violin;
succeeds, his sisters look upon him as the most and, instead of training one bird, they teach the
wonderful fellow in the world; and they cry in real same tune to a class of ten or a dozen.
earnest when the wonderful boy carries his pupil to Generally, the birds are sent to London or Paris,
town to be sold; for sold these bullfinches are sure where, if they have learned their lessons thorough-
to be as soon as they are taught, or else exhibited ly, they are bought by rich folk, put into beautiful
by their owners as street singers. Sometimes bird- cages and treated as pets, whilst other bullfinches,
teachers are known far and wide for their skill and having.trifled away their school-days and only half
success ; and at Freiburg, in Baden, and small vil- learned their tune, live a vagrant life around the
lages on the outskirts of the Black Forest, bullfinch- markets, belonging to nobody, and picking up
training is practiced as a regular business. In such their dinner as best they can.






WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED.

BY FRANK R. STOCKTON.

CHAPTER X. from a station further up the railroad to the village.
But he was not a mail-carrier now. His em-
A MEETING ON THE ROAD. player,, a white man, who had the contract for car-
SOME weeks before the little affair between trying the mails, had also gone into another business
Blinks and Holly, related in our last chapter, Harry which involved letter-carrying.
and Kate took a ride over to the railroad station. A few miles back from the village of AkeviBle,
During the winter, Harry had frequently gone where the Loudons lived, was a mica mine, which
over on horseback to attend to the payments for had recently been bought, and was now worked by
his wood; and now that the roads were in fit con- a company from the North. This mica (the semi-
dition for carriage travel, he was glad to have an transparent substance that is set into stove doors),
opportunity to take the buggy and give Kate a proved to be very plentiful and valuable, and the
ride. company had a great deal of business on their
For some days previously Crooked Creek had hands. It was frequently necessary to send mes-
been "up;" that is, the spring rains had caused sages and letters to the North, and these were al-
it to overflow, and all travel across it had been sus- ways carried over to the station on the other side
pended. The bridges on such occasions,-and of Crooked Creek, where there was a daily mail
Crooked Creek had a bad habit of being up and a telegraph office. The contract to carry these
several times in the course of a year,-were covered, letters and messages to and from the mines had
and the lowlands were under water for a consider- been given to Miles' employer, and the steady
able distance on each side of the stream. There negro man had been taken off the mail-route to at-
were so few boats on the creek, and the current, in tend to this new business.
times of freshets, was so strong, that ferriage was Well, Miles," said Harry, as he overtook him.
seldom thought of. In consequence of this state "How do you like riding on this road?"
of affairs Harry had not heard from his wood- "How d' y', Mah'sr Harry? How d' y', Miss
cutters for more than a week, as they had not Kate ?" said the colored man, touching his hat and
been able to cross the creek to their homes. It riding up on the side of the road to let them pass.
was, therefore, as much to see how they were get- "I do' know how I likes it yit, Mah'sr Harry.
ting along as to attend to financial matters that he Don't seem exactlyy natural after ridin' de oder road
took this trip. so long!"
It was a fine, bright day in very early spring, and "You have a pretty big letter-bag there," said
old Selim trotted on quite gaily. Before very long Harry.
they overtook Miles Jackson, jogging along on a Dat 's so," said Miles; "but 't aint dis big
little bay horse. ebery day. Sence de creek's been up I haint been
Miles was a black man; very sober and sedate, able to git across, and dere 's piles o' letters to go
who, for years, had carried the mail twice a week ober to-day."








244 WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED. [MARCH,

the children look on with the greatest interest. Or cases a small hurdy-gurdy, or "bird organ" is used,
a boy will undertake the task, and when he at last as being less difficult and tiresome than the violin;
succeeds, his sisters look upon him as the most and, instead of training one bird, they teach the
wonderful fellow in the world; and they cry in real same tune to a class of ten or a dozen.
earnest when the wonderful boy carries his pupil to Generally, the birds are sent to London or Paris,
town to be sold; for sold these bullfinches are sure where, if they have learned their lessons thorough-
to be as soon as they are taught, or else exhibited ly, they are bought by rich folk, put into beautiful
by their owners as street singers. Sometimes bird- cages and treated as pets, whilst other bullfinches,
teachers are known far and wide for their skill and having.trifled away their school-days and only half
success ; and at Freiburg, in Baden, and small vil- learned their tune, live a vagrant life around the
lages on the outskirts of the Black Forest, bullfinch- markets, belonging to nobody, and picking up
training is practiced as a regular business. In such their dinner as best they can.






WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED.

BY FRANK R. STOCKTON.

CHAPTER X. from a station further up the railroad to the village.
But he was not a mail-carrier now. His em-
A MEETING ON THE ROAD. player,, a white man, who had the contract for car-
SOME weeks before the little affair between trying the mails, had also gone into another business
Blinks and Holly, related in our last chapter, Harry which involved letter-carrying.
and Kate took a ride over to the railroad station. A few miles back from the village of AkeviBle,
During the winter, Harry had frequently gone where the Loudons lived, was a mica mine, which
over on horseback to attend to the payments for had recently been bought, and was now worked by
his wood; and now that the roads were in fit con- a company from the North. This mica (the semi-
dition for carriage travel, he was glad to have an transparent substance that is set into stove doors),
opportunity to take the buggy and give Kate a proved to be very plentiful and valuable, and the
ride. company had a great deal of business on their
For some days previously Crooked Creek had hands. It was frequently necessary to send mes-
been "up;" that is, the spring rains had caused sages and letters to the North, and these were al-
it to overflow, and all travel across it had been sus- ways carried over to the station on the other side
pended. The bridges on such occasions,-and of Crooked Creek, where there was a daily mail
Crooked Creek had a bad habit of being up and a telegraph office. The contract to carry these
several times in the course of a year,-were covered, letters and messages to and from the mines had
and the lowlands were under water for a consider- been given to Miles' employer, and the steady
able distance on each side of the stream. There negro man had been taken off the mail-route to at-
were so few boats on the creek, and the current, in tend to this new business.
times of freshets, was so strong, that ferriage was Well, Miles," said Harry, as he overtook him.
seldom thought of. In consequence of this state "How do you like riding on this road?"
of affairs Harry had not heard from his wood- "How d' y', Mah'sr Harry? How d' y', Miss
cutters for more than a week, as they had not Kate ?" said the colored man, touching his hat and
been able to cross the creek to their homes. It riding up on the side of the road to let them pass.
was, therefore, as much to see how they were get- "I do' know how I likes it yit, Mah'sr Harry.
ting along as to attend to financial matters that he Don't seem exactlyy natural after ridin' de oder road
took this trip. so long!"
It was a fine, bright day in very early spring, and "You have a pretty big letter-bag there," said
old Selim trotted on quite gaily. Before very long Harry.
they overtook Miles Jackson, jogging along on a Dat 's so," said Miles; "but 't aint dis big
little bay horse. ebery day. Sence de creek's been up I haint been
Miles was a black man; very sober and sedate, able to git across, and dere 's piles o' letters to go
who, for years, had carried the mail twice a week ober to-day."







874.l WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED. 245

"It must make it rather bad for the company rather more shapely, but he was always an ungainly
when the creek rises in this way," said Harry. dog,-" too big for his size," as Harry put it.
"Dat's so," answered Miles. "Dey gits in a It was supposed that Rob was partly bloodhound,
heap o' trubble when dey can't send dere letters but how much of him was bloodhound it would
and git 'em. Though 't aint so many letters dey have been very difficult to say. Kate thought it
sends as telegraphs." was only his ears. They resembled the ears of a
It 's a pity they could n't have had their mine picture of a beautiful African bloodhound that she
on the other side," remarked Kate. had in a book. At all events Rob showed no signs
"Dat's so, Miss Kate," said Miles, gravely. "I of any fighting ancestry. He was as gentle as a
reckon dey did n't know about de creek's gittin' up calf. Even Blinks was a better watch-dog. But
so often, or dey'd dug dere mine on de oder side." then, Rob was only a year old, and he might im-
Harry and Kate laughed and drove on. prove in time.
They soon reached Mr. Lqudon's woods, but But, in spite of his general inutility, Rob was a
found no wood-cutters. capital companion on a country ramble.
When they arrived at the station they saw Dick And so it happened, one bright day towards the
Ford and John Walker on the store-porch. close of April, that he and Harry and Kate went
Harry soon discovered that no wood had been out together into the woods, beyond Aunt Matilda's
cut for several days, because the creek was up. cabin. Kate's objects in taking the walk were wild
"What had that to do with it?" asked Harry. flowers and general Spring investigations into the
"Why, you see, Mah'sr Harry," said John condition of the woods; but Harry had an eye to
Walker, de creek was mighty high, and dere was business, although to hear him talk you would have
no known' how things ud turn out. So we thought supposed that he thought as much about ferns and
we'd jist wait and see." flowers as Kate did.
"'So you've been here all the time?" Harry had an idea that it might possibly be a
"Yes, sir; been h'yar all de time. Could n't go good thing to hire negroes that year to pick sumac
home, you know." for him. He was not certain that he could make
Harry was very sorry to hear of this lost time, it pay, but it was on his mind to such a degree that
for he knew that his wood-cutting would come to he took a great interest in the sumac bushes, and
an end as soon as the season was sufficiently ad- hunted about the edges of the woods, where the
vanced to give the men an opportunity of hiring bushes were generally found, to see what was the
themselves for farm-work; -but it was of no use to prospect for a large crop of leaves that year.
talk any more about it; and so, after depositing They were in the woods, about a mile from Aunt
Kate at the post-office, where the post-mistress, Matilda's cabin, and not very far from a road, when
who knew her well, gave her a nice little "snack" they separated for a short time. Harry went on
of buttermilk, cold fried chicken and light-bread," ahead,.continuing his investigations, while Kate re-
he went to the station and transacted his business. mained in a little open glade, where she found
He had not been there for some weeks, and he some.flowers that she determined to dig up by the
found quite a satisfactory sum of money due him, roots and transplant into her garden at home.
in spite of the holiday his men had taken. He then While she was at work she heard a heavy step
arranged with Dick and John to work on for a week behind her, and, looking up, she saw a tall man
or two longer,--if "nothing happened,"-and after standing by her. He had red hair, a.red face, a
attending to some commissions for the family, he' red bristling moustache, and big red hands.
and Kate set out for home. "How d' ye do ?" said the man.
But nothing they had done that day was of so Kate stood up, with the plants, which she had
much importance as their meeting with'Miles turned just succeeded in getting out of the ground, in her
out to be. apron.
"Good morning, sir," said she.
CHAPTER XIL The man looked at her from head to foot, and
then he said, Shake hands !" holding out his
ROB. big red hand.
BLINKS was not the only dog on the Loudon But Kate did not offer to take it.
place. There was another one, a much larger fel- "Did n't you hear me?" said he. "I said,
low, named Rob. Shake hands.' "
Rob was a big puppy, in the first place, and then I heard you," said Kate.
he grew up to be a tall, long-legged dog, who was Well, why don't you do it, then ?"
not only very fond of Harry and Kate but of almost Kate did not answer, and the man repeated his
everybody else. In time he filled out and became question.








246 WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED. [MARCH,

"Well then, if I must tell you," said she; in had gone a dozen yards,-at least he could catch
the first place, I don't know you; and, then, I 'd Kate.
rather not shake hands with you, anyway, because The man took out a knife and cut a long and
your hands are so dirty." tolerably thick switch from the bush. Then he cut
This might not have been very polite in Kate, off the smaller end and began to trim away the
but she was a straightforward girl, and the man's twigs and leaves.
hands were very dirty indeed, although water was While doing this he looked at Harry, and said:
to be had in such abundance. I think I 'll take you first."
What's your name? said the man, with his Kate's! heart almost stopped beating when she
face considerably redder than before. heard this, and Harry turned pale; but still the
Kate Loudon," said the girl. brave boy stood before his sister as stoutly as ever.
"Oh, ho Loudon, is it? Well, Kate Loudon, Kate tried to call for help, but she had no voice.
if my hand 's too dirty to shake, you '11 find it is n't What could she do? A boxing on the ears was
too dirty to box your ears." nothing, she now thought; she wished she had not
Kate turned pale and shrank back against a tree. called out, for it was evident that Harry was going
She gave a hurried glance into the woods, and then to get a terrible whipping.
she called out, as loudly as she could: She could not bear it Her dear brother !
"Harry! She trembled so much that she could not stand,
The man, who had made a step towards her, and she sank down on her knees. Rob, the dog,
now stopped and looked around, as if he would who had been lying near by, snapping at flies, all
like to know who Harry was, before going any fur- this time, now came up to comfort her.
their. Oh, Rob she whispered, "I wish you were
Just then, Harry, who had heard Kate's call, a cross dog."
came running up. And Rob wagged his tail and lay down by her.
When the man saw him he seemed relieved, and "I wonder," she thought to herself, oh I
a curious smile stretched itself beneath his bristling wonder if anyone could make him bite."
red moustache. Rob she whispered in the dog's ear, keep-
"What's the matter ? cried Harry. ing her eyes fixed on the man, who had now nearly
"Oh, Harry Kate exclaimed, as she ran to finished trimming his stick. "Rob! hiss-s-s-s !"
him. and she patted his back.
Matter ?" said the man. The matter's this, Rob seemed to listen very attentively.
I 'm going to box her ears." Hiss-s-s! she whispered again, her heart
Whose ears ?" beating quick and hard.
That girl's," replied the red-faced man, mov- Rob now raised his head, his big body began to
ing towards Kate. quiver, and the hair on his back gradually rose on
My sister! Not much end.
And Harry stepped between Kate and the man. Hiss Rob! Rob whispered Kate.
The man stood and looked at him, and he looked The man had shut up his knife, and was putting
very angrily, too. it in his pocket. He took the stick in his right
But Harry stood bravely before his sister. His hand.
face was flushed and his breath came quickly, All now depended on Rob.
though he was not frightened, not a whit! "Oh! will he?" thought Kate, and then she
And yet there was absolutely nothing that he sprang to her feet and clapped her hands.
could do. He had not his gun with him; he had Catch him, Rob she screamed. "Catch
not even a stick in his hand, and a stick would him "
have been of little use against such a strong man With a rush, Rob hurled himself full at the
as that, who could have taken Harry in his big red breast of the man, and the tall fellow went over
hands and have thrown him over the highest fence backwards, just like a ten-pin.
in the county. Then he was up and out into the road, Rob
But for all that, the boy stood boldly up before after him !
his sister. You ought to have seen the gravel fly !
The man looked at him without a word, and Harry and Kate ran out into the road and cheered
then he stepped aside towards a small dogwood and shouted. Away went the man and away went
bush. the dog.
For an instant, Harry thought that they might Up the road, into the brush, out again, and then
run away; but it was only for an instant. That into a field, down a hill, nip and tuck! At Tom
long-legged man could catch them before they Riley's fence, Rob got him by thelleg, but the








874.] WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED. 247

trowsers were old and the piece came out; and George Mason had been quite a noted character
then the man dashed into Riley's old tobacco barn, in that neighborhood five or six years before. He
and slammed the door almost on the dog's nose. belonged to a good family, but was of a lawless dis-
Rob ran around the house to see if there was position and was generally disliked by the decent
an open window, and finding none, he went back people of the county. Just before he left for the
to the door and lay down to wait. extreme Southern States it was discovered that he
Harry and Kate ran home as fast as they could, had been concerned in a series of horse-thefts, for
and after awhile Rob came too. He had waited a which he would have been arrested had he not
reasonable time at the door of the barn, but the taken his departure from the state.
man had not come out. Few people, excepting Mr. Loudon and one or
two others, knew the extent of his misdemeanors;
CHAPTER XII. and out of regard to his family these had not been
TONY ON THE WAR-PATH. made public. But he had the reputation of being
a wild, disorderly man, and now that it was known
"SHE did it all," said Harry, when they had that he had contemplated boxing Kate Loudon's
told the tale to half the village, on the store-porch. ears and whipping Harry, the indignation was very
I !" exclaimed Kate. "Rob, you mean." great.
"That's a good dog," said Mr. Darby, the store- Harry and Kate were favorites with everybody,-
keeper; "what'11 you take for him ?" white and black.
Not for-sale," said Harry. I tell ye what I 'm goin' to do," said Tony Kirk,
"Rob 's all very well," remarked Tony Kirk; I'm goin' after that feller."
"but it won't do to have a feller like that in the At this, half a dozen men offered to go along
woods, a fright'nin' the children. I'd like to know with Tony.
who he is." What will you do, if you find him ?" asked Mr.
Just at this moment Uncle Braddock made his Loudon.
appearance, hurrying along much faster than he That depends on circumstances," replied Tony.
usually walked, with his eyes and teeth glistening "I am willing to have you go," said Mr. Lou-
in the sunshine, don, who was a magistrate and a gentleman of
I seed him !" he cried, as soon as he came up. much influence in the village, on condition that
"Who'd you see?" cried several persons. if you find him you offer him no violence. Tell
Oh I seed de dog after him, and I come along him to leave the county, and say to him, from me,
as fas' as I could, but could n't come very fas'. De that if he is found here again he shall be ar-
ole wrapper cotch de wind." rested."
Who was it ?" asked Tony. All right," said Tony; and he proceeded to
"I seed him a-runnin'. Bress my soul! de dog make up his party.
like to got him !" There were plenty of volunteers; and for awhile
"But who was he, Uncle Braddock?" said Mr. it was thought that Uncle Braddock intended to
Loudon, who had just reached the store from his offer to go. But, if so, he must have changed his
house, where Kate, who had run home, had told mind, for he soon left the village and went over to
the story. "Do you know him ?" Aunt Matilda's and had a good talk with her. The
"Know him? Reckon I does!" said Uncle old woman was furiously angry when she heard of
Braddock, "an' de dog ud a knowed him, too, ef the affair.
he'd a cotched him Dat 's so, Mah'sr John." I wish I 'd a been a little quicker," she said,
"Well, tell us his name, if you know him," said and dere would n't a been a red spot on him."
Mr. Darby. Uncle Braddock did n't know exactly what she
Ob course, I knows him," said Uncle Braddock. meant; but he wished so, too.
I 'se done knowed him fur twenty or fifty years. Tony did n't want a large party. He chose four
He 's George Mason." men who could be depended upon, and they started
The announcement of this name caused quite a out that evening.
sensation in the party. It was evident that Mason knew how to keep
I thought he was down in Mississippi," said one himself out of sight, for he had been in the vicinity
man. a week or more,-as Tony discovered, after a visit
"So he was, I reckons," said Uncle Braddock, to Aunt Matilda,-and no white person had seen
"but he's done come back now. I'se seed him him.
afore to-day, and Aunt Matilda's seed him, too. But Tony thought he knew the country quite as
Yah, ha! Dat dere cog come mighty nigh well as George Mason did, and he felt sure he
cotchin' him!" should find him.






248 WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED. [MARCH,

His party searched the vicinity quite thoroughly were sure they had come upon him. Tom Riley's
that night, starting from Tom Riley's tobacco barn; horse was found at the blacksmith's shop at the
but they saw nothing of their man; and in the cross-roads, and the blacksmith said that he had
morning they made the discovery that Mason had been left there to have a shoe put on, and that the
borrowed one of Riley's horses, without the knowl- man who had ridden him had gone on over the
edge of its owner, and had gone off, north of the fields towards a house on the edge of the woods,
mica mine. Some negroes had seen him riding about a mile away.
away. So Tony and his men rode up to within a half-








-" t _- y'--- .- _..-.-- .















IN SINGLE FILE, TONY IN THE LEAD.
So Tony and his men took horses and rode away mile of the house, and then they dismounted, tied
after him. Each of them carried his gun, for they their horses and proceeded on foot. They kept,
did not know in what company they might find as far as possible, under cover of the tall weeds and
Mason. A man who steals horses is generally con- bushes, and hurried along silently and in single file,
sidered, especially in the country, to be wicked Tony in the lead. Thus they soon reached the
-. _' -, r-' ----''"







enough to do anything. house, when they quietly surrounded it.
afterhim Each ote creht ae o Th




At a little place called Jordan's cross-roads, they But George Mason played them a pretty trick.
(To be coitinued.)
o- .
-. .. .
{*IN~ ~ ~~ ~~ SIGEFIE OY NTE pD
So~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Toyadhsmnto ore n oeaa ie ftehue n hn hydsonete

afte him Eah ofthe cariedhis un, or hey hei hores nd poceeed n fot. hey ept

di nt no i watcopay he mgh fndasfa a pssbl, ndr ovr f hetal ees n





r.. .,:, .- P .. ..,. ,
, f --- F ' .. .
T~~~~~~~~~r~Fi ,.-,"- - I t

, ~ ~ T ,j _T .. .






874.] THE GALLANT OUTRIDERS. 249


























SWHERE have you been, my children,- If Les, had only kept quiet




And where did all of you go ? And looked as fine as a fiddle,
I held on to the tail;
And Lese, u r te fe-ft,

7" "












"Jacky galloped and cantered,-' ,.
FOLLOWING A GOOD EXAMPLE.





THE GALLANT OUTRIDERS. (

"WHERE have you been, my children,-- "If Les had only kept-quiet
Where have you been, I pray?" We might have played we were dead;
"Oh, but we've been a-riding, I don't see the sense in yelling
A-riding the live-long day." Because you have bumped your head.

"And how did you ride, my darlings; "Jacky held on like a goodnone,
And where did all of you go?" And looked as fine as a'fiddle,--
"We all of us went on horseback, But it's nothing to ride a-horseback
A-galloping in a row. If a fellow is on the middle."
"Jack had the whole of the saddle;-
I held on to the tail; ._a i-
And Leslie, under the fore-feet,ll kicki'
Managed to ride e th rail.
"Jacky galloped and cantered,- "-
Played he galloped, I mean; l r .
For Les. and I did the rocking '-., -" i'
And Jack just rode between. ,

"Oh, did n't our animal caper ', \
As he hitched himself along! ".
We might have kept on forever, 'S
If they'd only made him strong.'' '' \\,

"But when I pitched on the carpet, "..__
His tail so tight in my hand, -
And Les. from the rail fell kicking, E7--_-- _
Why, horsey came to a stand. "Ct.








250 ROSES AND FORGET-ME-NOTS. [MARCH,



ROSES AND FORGET-ME-NOTS.

By LOUISA M. ALCOTT.

I. Lizzie as irresistibly as if she had been a butterfly
ROSES. or bee.
Slipping in, she stood enjoying the lovely colors,
T was a cold November storm, sweet odors and delicate shapes of these household
S and everything looked forlorn, spirits; for Lizzie loved flowers passionately; and
SEven the pert sparrows were just then they possessed a peculiar charm for her.
draggled-tailed and too much One particularly captivating little rose won her
out of spirits to fight for crumbs heart, and made her long for it with a longing that
with the fat pigeons who trip- became a temptation too strong to resist. It was
ped through the mud with their so perfect; so like a rosy face smiling out from the
little red boots as if in haste to green leaves, that Lizzie could not keep her hands
get back to their cosy home in off it, and having smelt, touched and kissed it, she
the dove-cot, suddenly broke the stem and hid it in her pocket.
But the most forlorn creature Then, frightened at what she had done, she crept
out that day was a small errand back to her place in the hall and sat there burdened
.Z girl, with a bonnet-box on each with remorse.
arm, and both hands struggling A servant came just then to lead-her up stairs,
to hold a big, broken umbrella, for Miss Belle wished the hat altered and must give
A pair of worn-out boots let in directions. With her heart in a flutter and pinker
the wet upon her tired feet; a roses in her cheeks than the one in her pocket, Lizzie
thin cotton dress and an old followed to a handsome room, where a pretty girl
It shawl poorly protected her from stood before a long mirror with the hat in her
the storm; and a faded hood hand.
covered her head. "Tell Madame Tifany that I don't like it at all,
The face that looked out for she has n't put in the blue plume mamma
from this hood was too pale ordered, and I won't have rose-buds; they are so
and anxious for one so young; and when a sud- common," said the young lady, in a dissatisfied
den gust turned the old umbrella inside out with tone, as she twirled the hat about.
a crash, despair fell upon poor Lizzie, and she was "Yes, miss," was all Lizzie could say; for she
so miserable she could have sat down in the rain considered that hat the loveliest thing a girl could
and cried. possibly own.
But there was no time for tears; so, dragging You had better ask your mamma about it, Miss
the dilapidated umbrella along, she spread her Belle, before you give any orders. She will be up
shawl over the bonnet-boxes and hurried down the in a few moments, and the girl can wait," put in a
broad street, eager to hide her misfortunes from a maid, who was sewing in the anteroom.
pretty young girl who stood at a window laughing "I suppose I must; but I won't have roses,
at her. answered Belle, crossly. Then she glanced at
She could not find the number of the house Lizzie and said more gently, "You look very cold;
where-one of the fine hats was to be left; and after come and sit by the fire while you wait."
hunting all down one side of the street she crossed "I 'm afraid I '11 wet the pretty rug, miss; my
over and came at last to the very house where the feet are sopping," said Lizzie, gratefully, but tim-
pretty girl lived. She was no longer to be seen; idly.
and, with a sigh of relief, Lizzie rang the bell, and So they are I Why did n't you wear rubber
was told to wait in the hall while Miss Belle tried boots?"
the hat on. I have n't got any."
Glad to rest, she warmed her feet, righted her "I '11 give you mine, then, for I hate them; and
umbrella, and then sat looking about her with eyes as I never go out in wet weather, they are of no
quick to see the beauty and the comfort that made earthly use to me. Marie, bring them here; I shall
the place so homelike and delightful. A small be glad to get rid of them; and I'm sure they'll
waiting-room opened from the hall, and in it stood be useful-to you."
many blooming plants, whose fragrance attracted "Oh, thank you, miss! I'd like 'em ever so







874-] ROSES AND FORGET-ME-NOTS. 251

much, for I 'm out in the rain half the time and get Here's your lunch, Miss Belle."
bad colds because my boots are old," said Lizzie, "Put it down, please; I'm not ready for it yet."
smiling brightly at the thought of the welcome And Belle shook her head as she glanced at Lizzie,
gift. who was staring hard at the fire with such a troubled
"I should think your mother would get you face that Belle could not bear to see it.
warmer things," began Belle, who found something Jumping out of her nest of cushions, she heaped
rather interesting in the shabby girl, with shy, a plate with good things, and going to Lizzie, offered
bright eyes, and curly hair bursting out of the old it, saying, with a gentle courtesy that made the act
hood. doubly sweet :
I have n't got any mother," said Lizzie, with a Please have some; you must be tired of wait-
pathetic glance at her poor clothes. ing."
I 'm so sorry! Have you brothers and sisters?" But Lizzie could not take it; she could only cover
asked Belle, hoping to find something pleasant to her face and cry, for this kindness rent her heart
talk about; for she was a kind little soul. and made the stolen flower a burden too heavy to
"No, miss; I've got no folks at all." be borne.
Oh, dear; how sad Why, who takes care of Oh, don't cry so! Are you sick? Have I been
you ?" cried Belle, looking quite distressed, rude ? Tell me all about it; and if I can't do any-
"No one; I take care of myself. I work for thing, mamma can," said Belle, surprised and
Madame, and she pays me a dollar a week. I stay troubled.
with Mrs. Brown and chore round to pay for my No; I'm not sick; I'm bad, and I can't bear
keep. My dollar don't get many clothes, so I can't it when you are so good to me," sobbed Lizzie,
be as neat as I'd like." And the forlorn look came quite overcome with penitence; and taking out the
back to poor Lizzie's face. crumpled rose, she confessed her fault with many
Belle said nothing, but sat among the sofa cish- tears.
ions, where she had thrown herself, looking soberly Don't feel so much about such a little thing as
at this other girl, no older than she was, who took that," began Belle, warmly, then checked herself
care of herself and was all alone in the world. It and .added more soberly, It was wrong to take it
was a new idea to Belle, who was loved and petted without leave, but it's all right now, and I '11 give
as an only child is apt to be. She often saw beg- you as many roses as you want, for I know you are
gars and pitied them, but knew very little about a good girl."
their wants and lives; so it was like turning a new Thank you. I did n't want it only because it
page in her happy life to be brought so near to was pretty, but I wanted to copy it. I can't get
poverty as this chance meeting with the milliner's any for myself, and so I can't do my make-believe
girl. ones well. Madame won't even lend me the old
"Are n't you afraid and lonely and unhappy?" ones in the store, and Estelle has none to spare for
she said slowly, trying to understand and put her- me, because I can't pay her for teaching me. She
self in Lizzie's place. gives me bits of muslin and wire and things, and
"Yes; but it's no use. I can't help it, and may shows me now and then. But I know if I had a
be things will get better by and by, and I '11 have real flower I could copy it; so she'd see I did know
my wish," answered Lizzie, more hopefully, because something, for I try real hard. I 'm so tired of
Belle's pity warmed her heart and made.her troubles slopping round the streets I'd do anything to earn
seem lighter, my living some other way."
"What is your wish?" asked Belle, hoping Lizzie had poured out her trouble rapidly, and
Mamma would n't come just yet, for she was getting the little story was quite affecting when one saw the
interested in the stranger, tears on her cheeks, the poor clothes and the thin
To have a nice little room, and make flowers hands that held the stolen rose. Belle was much
like a French girl I know. It's such pretty work, touched, and, in her impetuous way, set about
and she gets lots of money, for everyone likes her mending matters as fast as possible.
flowers. She shows me how, sometimes, and I can Put on those boots and that pair of dry stock-
do leaves first-rate; but ings right away. Then tuck as much cake and
There Lizzie stopped suddenly, and the color fruit into your pocket as it will hold. I 'm going to
rushed up to her forehead; for she remembered get you some flowers and see if mamma is too busy
the little rose in her pocket and it weighed upon to attend to me."
her conscience like a stone. With a nod and a smile Belle flew about the room
Before Belle could ask what was the matter, a minute, then vanished, leaving Lizzie to her com-
Marie came in with a ,tray of cake and fruit, say- fortable task, feeling as if fairies still haunted the
ing: world as in the good old times.







252 ROSES AND FORGET-ME-NOTS. [MARC,

When Belle came back with a handful of roses, II.
she found Lizzie absorbed in admiring contempla- FORGET-ME-NOTS.
tion of her new boots as she ate sponge-cake in a
blissful sort of waking dream. I, mamma, I am so re-
"Mamma can't come; but I don't care about e lived that the box has
the hat. It will do very well, and is n't worth fus- -~ come at last! If it had
sing about. There, will those be of any use to not, I do believe I should
you?" And she offered the nosegay with a much have died of disappoint-
happier face than the one Lizzie first saw. .16 inent," cried pretty Belle,
"Oh, miss, they're just lovely? I '11 copy that five years later, on the
pink rose as soon as ever I can, and when I 've morning before her eight-
learned how to do 'em tip top I'd like to bring you eenth birthday.
some, if you don'tmind," answered Lizzie, smiling '" It would have been
all over her face as she buried her nose luxuriously 4 a serious disappointment,
in the fragrant mass. darling, for I had set my
"I 'd like it very much, for I should think you'd heart on your wearing my
have to be very clever to make such pretty things. gift to-morrow night, and when the steamers kept
I really quite fancy those rose-buds in my hat, now coming in without my trunk froii Paris, I was very
I know that 'you're going to learn how to make anxious. I hope you will like it, dear."
them. Put an orange in your pocket, and the "Deai mamma, I know I shall like it; your
flowers in water as soon as you can, so they '11 be taste is so good and you know what suits me so well..
fresh when you want them. Good by. Bring Make haste, Marie; I'm dying to see it," said Belle,.
home our hats every time and tell me how you get dancing about the great trunk, as the maid care-
on." fully unfolded tissue papers and muslin wrappers.
With kind words like these Belle dismissed Lizzie, A young girl's first ball-dress is a grand affair,-in
who ran down stairs, feeling as rich as if she had her eyes, at least; and Belle soon stopped dancing
found a fortune. Away to the next place she hur- to stand with clasped hands, eager eyes and parted
ried, anxious to get her errands done and the'pre- lips before the snowy pile of illusion that was at last
cious posy safely into fresh water. But Mrs. Tur- daintily lifted out upon the bed. Then, as Marie:
retville was not at home, and the bonnet could not displayed its loveliness, little shrieks of delight were
be left till paid for. So Lizzie turned to go down heard, and when the whole delicate dress was ar-
the high steps, glad that she need not wait. She ranged to the best effect she threw herself upon her
stopped one instant to take a delicious sniff at her mother's neck and actually cried with pleasure.
flowers, and that was the last happy moment that "-Mamma, it is too lovely! and you are very
poor Lizzie knew for many weary months. kind to do so much for me. How shall I ever
The new boots were large for her, the steps slip- thank you ?"
pery with sleet, and down went the little errand "By putting it right on to see if it fits; and
girl, from top to bottom, till she landed in the when you wear it look your happiest, that I may be
gutter directly upon Mrs. Turretville's costly bon- proud of my pretty daughter."
net. Mamma got no further, for Marie uttered a
"I've saved my posies, anyway," sighed Lizzie, French shriek, wrung her hands, and then began
as she picked herself up, bruised, wet and faint to burrow wildly in the trunk and among the
with pain; "but, oh, my heart! won't Madame papers, crying distractedly :
scold when she sees that band-box smashed flat," Great heavens, madame! the wreath has been
groaned the poor child, sitting on the curbstone to forgotten! Ma foi! what an affliction! Madem-
get her breath and view the disaster, oiselle's enchanting toilette is destroyed without
The rain poured, the wind blew, the sparrows on the wreath, and nowhere do I find it."
the park' railing chirped derisively, and no one In vain they searched; in vain Marie wailed and
came along to help Lizzie out of her troubles. Belle declared it must be somewhere; no wreath
Slowly she gathered up her burdens; painfully she appeared. Itivas duly set down in the bill, and a
limped away in the big boots, and the last the fine sum charged for a head-dress to match the
naughty sparrows saw of her was a shabby little dainty forgot-me-nots that looped the fleecy skirts
figure going round the corner, with a pale, tearful and ornamented the bosom of the dress. It had
face held lovingly over the bright bouquet that was evidently been forgotten; and Mamma despatched
her one treasure and her only comfort in the mo- Marie at once to try and match the flowers, for
ment which brought to her the great misfortune of Belle would not hear of any other decoration for
her life. her beautiful blonde hair.
0








1874.1 ROSES AND FORGET-ME-NOTS. 253

The dress fitted to a charm, and was pronounced be there, and Somebody considered forget-me-nots
by all beholders the loveliest thing ever seen, the sweetest flowers in the world. Mamma knew
Nothing was wanted but the wreath to 'make it this, and the kiss Belle gave her when the dress
,quite perfect, and when Marie returned, after a came had a more tender meaning than gratified
long search, with no forget-me-nots, Belle was in vanity or daughterly love.
despair. Up many stairs she climbed, and came at last to
"Wear natural, ones," suggested a sympathizing a little room, very poor but very neat, where, at the
friend. one window, sat a young girl, with crutches by her
But another hunt among greenhouses was as side and her lap full of flower-leaves and petals.
fruitless as that among the milliners' rooms. No She rose slowly as Belle came in, and then stood
forget-me-nots could be found, and Marie fell ex- looking at her, with such a wistful expression in her
hausted into a chair, desolated at what she felt to shy, bright eyes, that Belle's anxious face cleared
be an awful calamity. involuntarily, and her voice lost its impatient tone.
Let me have the carriage, and I '11 ransack the As she spoke she glanced about the room, hoping
city till I find some," cried Belle, growing more to see some blue blossoms awaiting her. But none
resolute with each failure, appeared; and she was about to despond again,
Mamma was deep in preparations for the ball, when the girl said, gently:
and could not help her afflicted daughter, though I have none by me now, but I may be able to
she was much disappointed at the mishap. So find you some."
Belle drove off, resolved to have her flowers whether Thank you very much; but I have- been every-
there were any or not. where in vain. Still, if you do get any, please
Anyone who has ever tried to match a ribbon, send them to me as soon as possible. Here is my
find a certain fabric, or get anything done in a card."
hurry, knows what a wearisome task it sometimes Miss Berton glanced at it, then cast a quick look
is, and can imagine Belle's state of mind after re- at the sweet, anxious face before her, and smiled so
peated disappointments. She was about to give brightly that Belle smiled also, and asked, wonder-
up in despair when some one suggested that per- ingly:
haps the Frenchwoman, Estelle Valnor, might "What is it? What do you see ?'
make the desired wreath, if there was time. I see the dear young lady who was so kind to
Away drove Belle, and, on entering the room, me long ago. You don't remember me, and never
gave a sigh of satisfaction, for a whole boxful of the knew my name; but I never have forgotten you
loveliest forget-me-nots stood upon the table. As all these years. I always hoped I could do some-
fast as possible, she told her tale and demanded thing to show how grateful I was, and now I can,
the flowers, no matter what the price might be. for you shall have your flowers if I sit up all night
Imagine her feelings when the Frenchwoman, with to make them."
a shrug, announced that it was impossible to give But Belle still shook her head and watched the
mademoiselle a single spray. All were engaged to smiling face before her with wondering eyes, till the
trim a bridesmaid's dress, and must be sent away girl added, with sudden color in her cheeks:
at once. "Ah, you 've done so many kind things in your
It really was too bad and Belle lost her temper life, you don't remember the little errand girl from'
entirely, for no persuasion or bribes would win a Madame Tifany's who stole a rose in your hall, and
spray from Estelle. The provoking part of it was how you gave her rubber boots and cake and
that the wedding would not come off for several flowers, and were so good to her she could n't for-
days, and there was time enough to make more get it if she lived to be a hundred."
flowers for that dress, since Belle only wanted a few "But you are so changed," began Belle, who
for her hair. Neither would Estelle make her any, did faintly recollect that little incident in her happy
as her.hands were. full, and so small an order was life.
not worth deranging one's self for; but observing "Yes, I had a fall and hurt myself so that I
Belle's sorrowful face, she said, affably: shall always be lame."
Mademoiselle may, perhaps, find the flowers And Lizzie went on to tell how Madame had dis-
she desires at Miss Berton's. She has been helping missed her in a rage; how she lay ill till Mrs.
me with these garlands, and may have some left. Brown sent her to the hospital; and how for a year
Here is her address." she had suffered much alone, in that great house
Belle took the card with thanks, and hurried of pain, before one of the kind visitors had be-
away with a last hope faintly stirring in her girlish friended her.
heart, for Belle had an unusually ardent wish to While hearing the story of the five years, that had
look her best at this party, since Somebody was to been so full of pleasure, ease and love for herself,







254 ROSES AND FORGET-ME-NOTS. [MARcH,

Belle forgot her errand, and, sitting beside Lizzie, like you that I reproach myself for neglecting my
listened with pitying eyes to all she told of her en- duty and having more than my share of happi-
deavors to support herself by the delicate handiwork ness."
she loved. Lizzie thanked her with a look, and then said, in
I'm very happy now," ended Lizzie, looking a tone of interest that was delightful to hear:
about the little bare room with a face full of the "Tell about the wreath you want; I should so
sweetest content. "I get nearly work enough to love to do it for you, if I can."
pay my way, and Estelle sends me some when she Belle had forgotten all about it in listening to this
has more than she can do. I've learned to do it sad little story of a girl's life. Now she felt half
nicely, and it is so pleasant to sit here and make ashamed to talk of so frivolous a matter till she re-
flowers instead of trudging about in the wet with membered that it would help Lizzie; and, resolving
to pay for it as never garland was
S.paid for before, she entered upon the
7 subject with renewed interest.
"You shall have the flowers in time
for your ball to-morrow night. I will
engage to make a wreath that will
I'' please you, only it may take longer
than I think. Don't be troubled if I
"- don't send it till evening; it will
i: ?'! surely come in time. I can work fast,
Ii and this will be the happiest job I
ever did," said Lizzie, beginning to
''' lay out mysterious little tools and
behd delicate wires.
i You are altogether too grateful
I for the little I did. It makes me feel
-, ,-- ashamed to think I did not find you
i l' I ." out before and do something better
worth thanks."
'-"' .A .' "Ah, it was n't the boots or the
cake or the roses, dear Miss Belle. It
was the kind looks, the gentle words,
-' the way you did it all, that went right
7 .,.. to my heart, and did me more good
I 'i",$ than a million of money. I never
stole a pin after that day, for the little
~rose would n't let me forget how you
__l- '; forgave me so sweetly. I sometimes
S. think it kept me from greater temp-
Stations, for I was a poor, forlorn child,
/- with no one to keep me good."
,.. Pretty Belle looked prettier than
./ .- ...ever as she listened, and a bright tear
S- stood in either eye like a drop of dew
"E K O A I on a blue flower. It touched her very
much to learn that her little act of
other people's hats. Though I do sometimes wish childish charity had been so sweet and helpful to
I was able to trudge, one gets on so slowly with this lonely girl, and now lived so freshly in her
crutches." grateful memory. It showed her, suddenly, how
A little sigh followed the words, and Belle put precious little deeds of love and sympathy are; how
her own plump hand on the delicate one that held strong to bless, how easy to perform, how comfort-
the crutch, saying, in her cordial young voice: able to recall. Her heart was very full and tender
, "I 'I1 come and take you to drive sometimes, just then, and the lesson sunk deep into it never to
for you are too pale, and you '11 get ill sitting here be forgotten.
at work day after day. Please let me; I'd love to; She sat a long time watching flowers bud
for I feel so idle and wicked when I see busy people and blossom under Lizzie's skillful fingers, and







5s74.1 MARCH. 255

then hurried home to tell all her glad news to "I am so glad you like it. I did my very best
Mamma. and worked all night, but I had to beg one spray
If the next day had not been full of most delight- from Estelle, or, with all my haste, I could not
fully exciting events Belle might have felt some have finished in time," said Lizzie, refreshing her
anxiety about her wreath, for hour after hour went weary eyes with a long, affectionate gaze at the
by and nothing arrived from Lizzie. pretty figure before her.
Evening came, and all was ready. Belle was A fold of the airy skirt was caught on one of the
dressed and looked so lovely that Mamma declared blue clusters, and Lizzie knelt down to arrange it as
sherneeded nothing more. But Marie insisted that she spoke. Belle leaned toward her and said softly:
the grand effect would be ruined without the gar- Moneyalone can't pay you for this kindness; so
land among the sunshiny hair. Belle had time tell me how I can best serve you. This is the hap-
now to be anxious, and waited with growing im- piest night of my life, and I want to make every-
patience for the finishing touch to her charming one feel glad also."
toilette. Then don't talk of paying me, but promise that
"I must be down stairs to receive, and can't wait I may make the flowers you wear on your wedding-
another moment; so put in the blue pompon and day," whispered Lizzie, kissing the kind hand held
let me go," she said at last, with a sigh of disap- out to help her rise, for on it she saw a brilliant
pointment; for the desire to look beautiful that ring, and in the blooming, blushing face bent over
night in Somebody's eyes had increased four-fold, her she read the tender little story that Somebody
With a tragic gesture, Marie was about to adjust had told Belle that day.
the pompon when the quick tap of a crutch came So you shall and I '11 keep this wreath all my
down the hall, and Lizzie hurried in, flushed and life for your sake, dear," answered Belle, as her full
breathless, but smiling happily as she uncovered the heart bubbled over with pitying affection for the
box she carried with a look of proud satisfaction, poor girl who would never make a bridal garland
A general "Ah !" of admiration arose as Belle, for herself.
Mamma and Marie surveyed the lovely wreath that Belle kept her word, even when she was in a
lay before them; and when it was carefully arranged happy home of her own; for out of the dead roses
on the bright head that was to wear it, Belle blushed bloomed a friendship that brightened Lizzie's life;
with pleasure. Mamma said: It is more beauti- and long after the blue garland was faded Belle re-
ful than any Paris could have sent us;" and Marie membered the helpful little lesson that taught her
clasped her hands theatrically, sighing, with her to read the faces poverty touches with a pathetic
head on one side : eloquence, which says to those who look, "Forget-
"Truly, yes; mademoiselle is now adorable! me-not."




M.ARCH.


IN the snowing and .the blowing,
In the cruel sleet,-
Little flowers begin their growing
Far beneath our feet.
Softly taps the Spring, and cheerly,-
Darlings, are you here?"
Till they answer: "We are nearly,
Nearly ready, dear."

"Where is Winter, with his snowing?
Tell us, Spring," they say;
Then she answers: He is going,
Going on his way.
Poor old Winter does not love you,-
But his time is past;
Soon my birds shall sing above you,- "..
Set you free at last!"








256 SOME CURIOUS FISHES. [MARCH,



SOME CURIOUS FISHES.

IN this picture Mr. Beard has drawn for us some names and habits of these fishes, referring to them
-very remarkable fishes,-not fancy fishes either, by their position in the picture. If you can only
but real ones, true to life and drawn without ex- write about one fish, we shall be glad to have you
.aggeration. Now, instead of our describing the do so. Send your letters as soon as you can, as









ga as fr as ty cn, te c s.




.----

































gate this matter and tell us, as far as they can, the creatures.







1874.] SNOWED IN. 257




SNOWED IN.
An Incident of the Great Storm o/ the WViner f 1872.

BY MARTHA M. THOMAS.

WHEN will you be home, father ?" "Yes," she replied; adding, "How it does snow,
The day after to-morrow. If I start immedi- and it has grown colder "
ately, I can be there by eight or nine o'clock. The When they had started, Beckie stood until they
snow looks as though it might be deep. I shall put drove out of the yard and the curtain of fast-falling
Bob and Grey to the sleigh, and take Jack with me." snow almost hid them from her sight.
It will be so lonely, and, somehow, I wish you I never did see it snow so;" she said to Jamie.
were not going." I wish Joe would come,-he is such good com-
The girl stooped and opened the stove door, fur- pany."
tively wiping her eyes with her apron. A silent hour passed, interrupted only by Will's
So do I, Beckie, but I must go. I am Huston's laugh, as he lay on the floor playing with baby.
principal witness, and should feel very sorry if, for Beckie began to feel uneasy, for the short winter
want of my testimony, he lost his farm.". day was drawing to a close, and neither Aunt Lizzie
"I know it is right, and I should not care so nor Joe had come.
much if Jack would be here, but -- have been watching the snow, Beckie. I
"I shall stop at neighbor Giles' and get Aunt cannot see the garden fence, the flakes fall so
Lizzie to come over; she said she would do so. thick. I hope father and Jack will be safe," said
Joe is to bring her, and stay and milk and do the Jamie, as she stepped into the sitting-room to get
feeding while I am gone." the broom. She had gone into the shed for some-
Beckie brightened up at this. thing, and was surprised at the depth of the snow.
Let Jack get ready, while I put some wood and She went to the window and looked out.
coal in the shed to be handy, then I will take a bite There was not a goose nor a duck to be seen.
and be off." The chickens had been driven from under the lilac
Mr. Wilson was a New England man, who, find- bushes, where they usually took refuge in a storm.
ing some difficulty in making a living out of his Again she wished Aunt Lizzie and Joe would
" stony potato patch," as he called the few acres he come. She began to feel a sort of dread too, and
owned in his native state, had emigrated to the was a little frightened at the aspect of things.
West and settled on one of the rich prairies that Every moment the storm increased in violence.
there abound. He had married a thrifty, active Outside things were buried in the snow; a gloom
girl, the daughter of a neighboring farmer, and he was creeping over the whole landscape. She could
now owned a large farm, with comfortable house scarcely distinguish objects she knew to be only a
and outhouses. His dwelling was rather isolated, few yards distant.
being some distance from any traveled road. She opened the door again, and went out into
His wife had died six months previous, leaving the shed. As she did so, she heard the favorite cow,
him with five children. Jack, the eldest, was Crumpies, lowing, give a long, low bellow.
turned of fourteen. Beckie was in her thirteenth She is at the cow-house door and wants to get
year. James was ten; Will, eight; and the baby, in," she said to herself; I will milk her, for Joe
a girl, was seven months old. may not come, and baby must have her supper."
Since their mother's death, Beckie had tried to She took down an old coat of her father's and
supply her place to the other children. She had buttoned herself in it, drew on Jack's cow-hide
taken all the care of the baby, and was, as her boots, tied up her head and. ears in a comforter,
father called her, a "little mother." Mr. Wilson then, opening the door into the sitting-room, she
had been summoned to the county town, as witness told Jamie to stay in there and look after Will and
on a trial involving the ownership of a friend's farm, the baby, took her milk pail and started. She
and although the weather was stormy and cold, he stopped, aghast, when she reached the door of the
felt that he must go. shed, confounded at the depth of the snow. She
"Keep up the fires, Beckie," he said, while eat- plunged into it, but found she could not go on.
ing his pie; there is wood and coal enough in the Beckie was a girl of courage, besides which she
shed to last until I get back, and take good care of had a spirit of adventure. She did not think there
Jamie and the baby." was any especial danger. It was a dreadful storm,
VOL. I.--17.







258 SNOWED IN. MARCH,

there was excitement in breasting it, and it would Blindly she went, staggering under the weight
be something to tell of afterwards; besides, she of the milk, which she clung to as life for baby,
must have the milk for baby-that was the para- the flakes dashing in her face with a force that
mount idea now. As she recovered from her first almost took her breath, and the wind rocking her
plunge she thought of a kind of snow-hoe her as though she were a reed.
father had made, and she stepped back into the She was so cold she could not stand this much
shed, and, with some difficulty, extricated it. It longer. She would soon drop. She would be
was a long stout stick, at the end of which was frozen to death, she knew; but even as she thought
fastened a broad, flat piece of board, like a hoe, this, she pushed on. She must be near the gate;
only many times larger. Cutting a piece of the she tried to see it, but there might as well have
clothes line that hung there, she tied her milk pail been a wall before her.
by it around her waist; then putting the handle of The wind swept by in a fearful gust that rocked
her snow-hoe against her breast, holding it with her back and forth, although she was walled up, as
both hands, she pressed on, making a track for it were, on each side. What was that it had bared
herself. As she went by the dog-kennel the animal just in her path? The roof of the dog-kennel?
barked and jumped towards her, and she stopped Yes, it was; and she was then inside the yard,
in the deep snow and unchained him. only about thirty feet from the shed. She put her
The gloom had so increased, she could scarcely hands straight out before her, and,'with all her
distinguish an object in the barn-yard. Reaching strength, made her way forward. Would she
the gate between the two yards, she was tempted to never get there She could not stand it much Ion-
go back, but again she heard Crtimpies' lowing, ger. Just then, her outstretched hands came with
and she pushed on, although it was hard work. stinging force against the shed. She gave a cry of
The wind and snow came so violently she could joy; staggered along, feeling for the opening;
scarcely stand up against it, and would have fallen found it; and, for a second, stood there gasping.
but for the snow-hoe, which supported her. Even in that instant it seemed as though she
At length she reached the cow-house. Crumpies would be covered up. The storm shrieked and
and another cow stood there. Fortunately the howled like an army of demons.
snow had, in a measure, drifted away from the She never could tell how she reached the kitchen
cow-house door, and was piled against a fence a door, and got within. All she did know was that
few feet off. With two or three digs of her snow- she was aroused by Jamie's crying; that she found
hoe she cleared it away, so as to open the door herself upon the kitchen floor beside a mass of
sufficiently for the animals to go in. Passing in snow; her milk safe; and that it was quite dark.
herself, she had to sit down a moment before she She was not conscious that she, a girl of thirteen,
could do anything, although the gathering gloom had accomplished a feat that night which many
there alarmed her. strong, brave men had '-o:r eir lives in attempt-
In an excitement, and with a fierce anxiety about ing,-the feat of going a dozenn yards in that
getting back, she went to work and milked both storm.
cows, threw them corn, ran into the barn for hay, She was very weak, and her limbs ached, and
and then she thought of the horses in the stable; she could not drag herself to the stove to renew the
she gave them oats, shook the hay in their man- fire, now low. Jamie put in fuel, while she shivered
gers, and was hastening out, when she saw the and trembled. It seemed as though her blood had
milk cans which her father had left on a bench frozen in her veins. The baby was crying. She
there. She seized them, and pouring the milk attempted to get up, but fell back, and burst into
into them, put the tops on securely, and tied them tears. Frightened at her appearance and manner,
around her waist. It was dark, almost, in the barn, Jamie began to sob, and this aroused her.
and she got out as quickly as she could, fastened Get the baby's bottle, Jamie, and warm her
the cow-house door, and once more was amid the some milk."
raging elements. Jamie wiped his eyes, and did as she told him.
Confused, she stood, scarcely knowing which way Jamie fed the baby, and she sat by the stove,
to go. There was no sign of the path she had leafing over it. The children must have their sup-
made. Could she fight her way back? The fury per; but she felt herself totally unable to drag her-
of the tempest had so increased, it seemed as self about. She remembered some highly spiced
though nothing could live in it. She was almost blackberry cordial her mother had made and kept
numb with cold;-but the children! the baby for sickness. Jamie got her some. She drank al-
With no spoken words, but with the spirit of most a tea-cupful, then dragged herself to the set-
Peter's Save me, I perish," in her heart, she tee, and laid down. She fell asleep, and was only
attempted to press on. awakened by Will's tugging at her dress.








1874.l SNOWED IN. 259

"Beckie Beckie I want some supper; and him, she began her preparations. She must move
it is so dark !" up stairs and keep but one fire. Besides the small
She got up so much revived, that she hastened quantity of coal, there was very little oil. All was
to get a light, put the tea-kettle on, and set the darkness down stairs. The wind seemed to have
table. When she tried to draw in the shutters she blown the snow before it across the prairie, and
could not move them; the snow was banked up walled them in.
against the windows, and fell in on the floor. It was She carried a bench up stairs, and set it in the
with difficulty she could close the window again, hall, and on this she put her dishes and eatables;
Beckie was so very anxious that she could not eat took the baby's cradle and a crock of milk up
any supper. Will had a good appetite; but Jamie (how glad she was she had the milk!), moved a stand
complained of a headache, and said he did not want and trunk out of the room, and put a table in their
any. Beckie persuaded him to come to table and place.
drink a cup of tea. She took the baby up, and It was a dreadfully weary day; and she was glad
sat there feeding it until they were done; then she when the time came to get dinner. The difficulties
laid it in its cradle, for it had gone to sleep, of cooking on the little chamber stove occupied
After getting coal and wood for the night, from her; and Will was immensely amused at the small
the shed,-and there was not much there,-she table off which they had to eat. There was a noise
went up stairs to see if there was any fire. She at the door, and when they opened it Rover, the
slept up there with the baby, and the boys' bed dog, walked in. He had been left down stairs, and
was,down in their father's room. Turning the forgotten. Will fed him, and he stretched him-
damper in the stove, the room was soon warm. She self beside the stove, wagging his tail whenever they
told the boys to get into one of the beds in her spoke to him.
room, heard Will say his prayers, undressed the Jamie would eat nothing,--he was really ill.
baby, and went to bed herself. Beckie saw that, but she did not know what to give
Wearied with the day's exertions, she slept sound- him. The baby and he occupied her attention all
ly. It was later than usual, and intensely cold, the afternoon.
when she got up next morning. Her first glance She got supper ready early and put Will to bed.
out the window showed they were buried in snow. She was very much alarmed about Jamie, and
As far as her eye could reach, there was a trackless frightened when she saw how little coal there was
waste of white, unbroken by a single object. The left; not more than enough to make a fire in the
barn appeared half buried, the coal-shed was not to morning. What should she do? They must have
be seen; but the storm had abated. Her first fire. She went into the cellar and knocked a
thought was of father and Jack. Had they reached couple of barrels to pieces, and carried the staves
H- in safety? Her next thought, as she pro- up stairs.
ceeded to make the fire, was, what should they do She slept little, for Jamie tossed and threw his
for fuel? There was only that little pile in the arms out over his head, and the cover off him, and
kitchen. called water water !" every few moments. She
She went down stairs. Every window was blocked had to keep up the fire for fear he would get cold;
up. She made a fire to get breakfast, and then and when daylight came, and she awoke from an
opened the door. A sheet of white faced her. She uneasy sleep in which she had fallen, there was only
closed it quickly, fearing the snow would fall in a couple of barrel staves left.
upon her; and, utterly appalled, sat down and She must keep the children warm, and she said
cried. What were they to do ? No one could get to herself, I will do it if I must burn up all the
to them. They had not more than enough fuel to furniture in the house."
last during the day. Dressing herself warmly, she again visited the
Presently she dried her tears, and sat for a few cellar. There was an old barrel in the corner she
moments thinking. Then she got up, lighted a had overlooked; on removing some bits of iron
lamp, and went about preparing breakfast, drawing from it, she found about a bushel of coal. She
the table as close to the stove as possible. carried this up stairs, and with the staves of the
When she went up stairs the children were awake, barrel, soon had a bright, warm fire, and a good
Jamie fretted, and complained of his head and breakfast set out for Will and herself. Jamie was
his throat; he coughed, and had fever. She told so ill he did not notice anything; and the baby,
him to lie still and she would bring him some cof- who was always good, slept. From the window
fee; and she and Will went down to their meal. was to be seen only the same dreary waste of
She had determined what to do; and, after unbroken snow.
soothing Jamie, and telling him to lie still and try All her energies this day were taxed to keep the
to sleep, and giving Will a picture book to amuse fire going. She dressed Will and the baby as








260 SNOWED IN. [MARCH,


warmly as possible, and collected and burnt every alive. The children must not see me cry." She
available small article in the house. The potato wiped her eyes. "I must split up this table to
masher, the wash-board, the tubs, the shelves in burn."
the cellar and the kitchen, the steps leading to the She lifted the axe and struck a piece off the
cellar, the clothes-horse, the bread-board and edge-another-then she heard Rover bark; again
rolling-pin were all split in pieces, and carefully and again he barked. Will is making him, and
put in the stove, with bits of coal to make them he will disturb Jamie," she thought, and she
last longer. Before dark they went to bed, for dropped the axe and ran up stairs.
there was not more than enough oil in the house Beckie Beckie called Will, as she opened
to last a couple of hours. Jamie did not any the door, "Rover is so funny, he jumped up at
longer know her; he lay muttering in delirium, the window and keeps wagging his tail and bark-
The morning dawned, and it was the same as" ing."



II I '
SO E IS C I
ill :i
,,___"_,_.'__'___,'_ ill ,':___" l ,


SOTi E O IS ,,N'0






















before. All night-although nearly overcome with A look out the window showed her something
drowsiness and fatigue-she had watched Jamie; moving over the prairie towards the house. She
bathed his hot head, and put water to his lips. It could not tell what it was for the showering of snow
was all she could do. Help must come with the that accompanied it.
day. .She would not give up. Some one is coming! Some one is coming










She used the last of the fuel to make up the fire, she exclaimed.
and managed to make the kettle boil. After she As it neared, the dog sprang up and down, rest-
had taken some coffee and Willater to had eaten his ing his paws on the window sill, and h parking louder
breakfast, she left him at play with and and louder, and Will stood beside him, making



went below stairs; and there sitting down, had a little springs and screaming:
hearty cry. She believed Jamie was dying. She It is father, Beckie i It is father !"
did not know what to do for him. What should We can see best now in the other room; wrap
she do? Why did not father come? Was he this shawl around you." Beckie darted through
dead ? Then she thought, He will come if he is the door, and threw open a window in the adjoin-







x874.1 SNOWED IN. 261

ing chamber. Rover sprang up, put his head and Jack had been caught in the storm. They had lost
most of his body out-looked as though he wished the road and were unable to tell where they were,
to leap-then drew back, as though afraid, and but kept on, on for their lives; at last he became so
barked more furiously than ever. exhausted and cold, the reins dropped from his
Now the barn hid the object-it was in the barn- hands, and he fell to the bottom of the sleigh.
yard. It seemed to move slowly and take time- Then Jack, who was warmly wrapped in an extra
a long time to the eager lookers-on-to advance, bear robe, seized the reins and drove, they could
Rover barked frantically; and, as if in answer, a not tell whither. Night began to come on. After
voice from the moving mass, in which they began a time they heard some one calling, and answer-
to distinguish figures, called: ing, found they had approached a dwelling, the
"Beckie Beckie! owner of which, lantern in hand, had come out to
It is father! It is father Yes, yes.!" unloose his dog, and had heard Crumpies' bell,
She ran down and opened the kitchen door. which was tied on one of the horses.
Now she could hear but could not see them. She They were taken into the house. Mr. Wilson
ran back again and called out, and then down into was so exhausted he had to be put to bed. Upon
the kitchen. They were working outside. In a inquiry they discovered that instead of being near
few moments something scattered the snow right H- as they supposed, they were not half way
and left-she was covered with it-and her father there; they had been going round and round in a
burst into the kitchen, circle.
Beckie where are you all? The next morning they were appalled at the ex-
Here, father !" She was hanging on him. tent of the storm. Troubled and anxious concern-
All safe? ing his children, Mr. Wilson had in vain endeavored
Yes; but Jamie is so ill." to get help to go to their assistance. There was
He made a step towards the sitting-room door. no one there to help him; and the day was spent
"We have no fire;" she pointed to the table, in digging their way to the barns and outhouses,
" I have burnt up almost everything." relieving the cattle and procuring fuel. The day
He had Will in his arms; he stepped to the after, they succeeded in putting together something
door. that answered as a snow plough, and accompanied
"Men they have no fire; she was chopping up by Mr. Staines and his son, at whose house they
the table." He turned to her. "Whereare Jamie had been sheltered, and joined by others whose
and the baby? I was afraid you would all be homes they passed, had made all haste possible to
frozen to death !" the children's assistance. They were obliged to
He went up stairs, took up the baby and kissed stop one night, but had started again at daylight next
it, looked at Jamie. morning. Calling at Mr. Giles' he had learned
Thank God it is no worse !" he said. that Joe and Aunt Lizzie had started, but, af-
The men were building a fire in the kitchen, and frighted at the storm, had turned back. Then his
there was soon another blazing in the sitting-room, anxiety was increased; for he knew, from the out-
Mr. Wilson's first care was to attend to Jamie. of-the-way situation of the house, there was scarcely
He was accustomed to prescribe for his children a probability of any aid but his reaching them.
when they were ill, and he had medicine in the "I feared to find you all dead; and but for you,
house. Soon he was seated, with Will on his knee 'little mother,' it would have been so."
and Beckie close beside and leaning -against him, A few days afterwards, when Jack reached home,
the fire burning brightly, while she told her story. he gave an account of the suffering and loss of
He pressed her close to him, kissed her, patted life which the storm had caused,
her head, and called her a heroic little mother. 0, Long will they remember the great snow storm
how proud she was Then he told her how he and of the winter of 1872.







-r -"~t4111







262 AN ODD FELLOW. [MARCH,




AN ODD FELLOW.

BY HARRIET M. MILLER.

ODD-I should think so! why, he carries his a long sharp tail striking out at the heel. He's a
house on his back, and has his teeth on his legs funny sight when he is digging-and digging is
That's a tough story, but-dear me !-it's no- his special delight, I can tell you. This shell is in
thing to what you'll have to believe when you come two pieces; the front piece bends down and shovels
to study the curious creatures that live in the sea. up the dirt, the back piece bends down the other
As to carrying his house about with him, that is way, and. the hard sharp tail braces against the
nothing new, all crabs and turtles do that, but I ground, while all his feet-eight or ten there are-
must admit he's the only fellow I ever heard of who throw out the dirt on both sides. It doesn't take
long for him to burrow into the mud out of sight.
But I haven't told you about those useful legs,
which do the work of jaws, besides their regular
business of carrying their owner about.
S- There are five pair of them, besides a short pair
in front, called feelers, or antennae, if you want the
Book name. The first four pair are furnished with
sharp teeth-lots of them, sometimes as many as a
hundred and fifty.
When this comical gentleman wants to eat, he
seizes a soft worm, or some other sea delicacy, with
S '- his two hind feet, and holds it up to his mouth,
.,a l.-" -which is conveniently placed among all these use-
ful legs. Then the hundred and fifty sharp little
teeth go to work, and rasp the food into bits, and
'. Y -the mouth takes it in.
How do you suppose all this was found out ? A
naturalist, who was curious to see what the horse-
foot did with the food that he always pulled under
his shell, waited till he was hard at work at his din-
ner, and then very coolly turned him over on his
back. Mr. Limulus was too busy to mind, so he
went on eating, and the naturalist saw the whole
performance.
But I haven't told you half the wonderful things
about him. When he is first hatched he is a quarter
of an inch in diameter, has no tail, and has a shell
just the right size for him, of course. When he
HORSE-FOOT CRAB. gets bigger he outgrows the shell, as you young-
sters do your clothes, and he has to get out of the
has teeth on his legs. If you and I are not ac- old suit. It's a very droll sight to see him come
quainted with him, it is merely because we haven't out of himself in that way. He don't have so much
been prying Into the domestic manners of the trouble about it as lobsters and some other crabs do
crab family all these years, as some scientific -he just splits open the front edge of his shell, and
gentlemen have. They have known about him pulls himself out. But you know he has been
these many years, and he has even got into the dic- growing some time since that baby suit fitted him,
tionary. Look in Webster's big dictionary, at the and the fact is, he has been very much crowded
word Limulus, and you'll see a picture of him, these last few days. So when he gets fairly out of
Limulus, you must know, is his grand Latin name, the shell, he swells out an inch or two bigger than
which he doesn't wear at home in the sea. There he was before, and in a short time he has another
he is called Horse-foot Crab, or King Crab. shell big enough for him, besides a little sharp tail.
And there's another droll thing about him,-he's So he goes on as long as he lives, throwing off
just the shape of the bottom of a horse's foot, with his old shells and getting new ones.







874-1 PETER PARROT. 263

This interesting little fellow is well supplied with same way. That's most as lazy as our noble red
eyes, having two large ones up high on the shell, men, who sit and smoke while their wives work for
to see all about with, and two more in front. them.
I must tell you how Mamma Horse-foot makes her While I am writing of crabs, I want to tell you
nursery. In May or June, when she has, perhaps, a story about some cousins of the king crab family.
half a pint of eggs under her shell, and when the It is about the land crabs of St. Domingo. The
tide is in-that is, the water is up high on the shore Spanish had the town, arid the English wanted to
-she comes up on the sand as far as she can get it away. After some fighting, the English,
without getting out of the water. She then digs a who were in ships, sent a party ashore in the night
hole, and puts the eggs into it-and that's just all she to surprise the soldiers, and seize the town.
does about it, and she never sees one of the babies. As they were forming on the shore, they heard
The next wave covers these eggs up with sand, a great clashing and clattering, and they thought
the hot sun hatches them out, and the little ones the whole Spanish army was after them; so they
know everything belonging to a crab's education, ran to their boats and fled.
and can take care of themselves the minute they In the morning it turned out that the noise was
come out of the shell. But the drollest part of the made by the crabs, who come out of their burrows
business is the behavior of Mr. Limulus. He in the sand at night to seek their food.
wants to see that the eggs are properly laid in the In honor of this exploit, the people have every
sand, and he doesn't want the trouble of walking, so year a great feast, in which a solid gold crab is car-
the lazy fellow jumps upon Mamma Limulus's shell, ried about the town in procession. It is called the
and lets her carry him up, and back again in the Feast of the Crabs.






PETER PARROT.

BY ROSE TERRY COOKE.

PETER in the window sits, Does he hear the bell-bird's cry,
Turning round his cool, red eye, When we think him half asleep?
Looking strange, and cross and shy, Or, do forest odors creep
As from ring to perch he flits, Through his troubled memory,
Hanging there by claw or beak- Telling tales of happy hours,
Sometimes looking up to speak. 'Mid a thousand gorgeous flowers?
"Pretty Polly," oft he says- Does he ever seem to see
Half in question, half to see Gayer brethren of his kind
If his simple vanity Flying on the torrid wind-
Finds an echo in my praise; Perched on every stately tree,-
Sometimes he will laugh and cry Toucans, paroquets, macaws,
At the people passing by. Chattering on without a pause?
Then he stops to sneeze or cough; Does he see the monkeys swinging
All his red, and green and gold Here and yon along the vines;
Cannot fright away the cold, Or, when cool the moonlight shines,
Cannot keep the winter off; Hear the Indian shrilly singing,
Ruffled feathers, rough and dim, On the river's gleaming breast,
Tell Jack Frost hath bitten him. Floating homeward to his rest?

Much I wonder if he thinks, Pretty Polly I homesick bird!
Sitting in the pallid sun, Or, is all my pity wasted?
Of that life, so long since done, Are these joys, that once you tasted,
Where the long liana's links, Vanished like a song half heard?
Swinging slow, from palm to palm, Are you just as pleased to squall
Cradled him in tropic calm. From the window, Pretty Poll?"








264 WRECKED AT "HOME. [MARCH,




WRECKED AT HOME.

BY NOAH BROOKS.

THERE were ten of us. The amount of fun that But when there were ten of us hungrily looking
ten hearty boys can get from common things has around for something uncommonly daring, you
never been ciphered out. Arithmetic will not must guess that there was danger ahead. Ben
reach it. Fairport is a small and very old Dennett was the eldest; fifteen years old in May, he
town on Penobscot Bay. In my day, the Fairport thought himself fit to lead in all adventures. His
boys were said (by outsiders, mind) to be the very plan was to go down. to the Lower Fort and fire off















SAS WE MERRILY TUMBLED OVER THE RISING WAVES."

worst boys in the State of Maine. They were ever in one of the rusty old twenty-pounders that lay slum-
mischief-or fun, which in those times was about being peacefully in the grass.
the same thing. Still, it does not seem to me, "Nice fun!" roared Rufe Parker. "Where's
even now, that we boys deserved the name for bad- your powder ?"
ness that we got. There was no malice nor dis- Where 's your money to buy it with ?" yelped
honesty in the fun of the Fairport boys of Eighteen little Bill Keeler, who was known to have four-and-
Hundred and Something-for this was a good sixpence in bank.
while ago. Tying up door-knockers, ringing the Somebody else, Hal Stevens, I think, suggested
door-bell at unseasonable hours of the day or night, Tilden's orchard; but it was notoriously early in
firing the old cannon in the abandoned fort, nailing the season, and Jerry Murch, who hated castor oil,
up the school-house door, or hoisting Farmer said that green apples were not fit for a pig to eat.
Gray's old horse into the hayloft, did not seem "Then don't eat 'em, piggy," snapped in Dandy
grave crimes. Blake,-a disagreeable little prig, who was always
Boating, fishing, going in swimming, hunting saying smart things.
for clams, and general prancing about the wharves Symptoms of a row were quelled at once by Ben
of the old town, and the shores of the sea-washed Dennet, who, after turning two or three hand-
peninsula on which it sleeps, were the chief de- springs to collect his thoughts, shouted, I've got
lights of the boys of that period.. The boy who, at it! I've got it! Let's go over to Grampus Rock!"
the mature age of twelve, could not row cross- Breathless at the boldness of this plan, nobody
handed, bait a cod-line, or steer a boat, was not of said a word, though everybody's eyes snapped at
much account. When we could beg, borrow, or the bare idea of it.
otherwise make off with a boat, we were happy. How to get there:
My heart aches as I think of the anxious mothers Grampus Rock lies two miles off the mouth of
who worried, day after day, about the graceless the harbor, almost in sight of the town, and only
scamps who disobeyed orders and went skylarking partly hidden by a bend in the bay, which shuts in
on the water. The same kind Providence that the rock from the houses on the hill-top.
watches over the life of the sailor clinging to the But it is a great place for gulls' eggs in the early
icy rigging, far up aloft, and at sea, seems to hold summer; and two or there of us had been there
a hand of safety under the seaside boy. with our big brothers or other grown people.








1874.J WRECKED AT HOME. 265


There were traditions, too, of the fragments of store doors or sunned themselves on the wharves,
the wreck of the bark Grampus being found among these ten young scamps met under Stearns's wharf,
the rocks; or there might be treasures in the clefts where the boat lay fast to the steps. Stepping gin-
of the tall crag, which still bore the name of the old gerly over the oozy planks, and well bedaubed with
merchant bark, cast away there years ago; doub- slime, we tumbled into the Red Rover,-as we there
loons, perhaps, or Spanish dollars and pieces-of- and then named her,-sculled her softly along from
eight, such as were dug up on Grindle's farm, upon wharf to wharf, carefully keeping out of sight, until
the Doshen shore, we reached the last pier, near Stevens' cooper-shop,
Delicious thought! But how to get there? then boldly pushed out into open water, secure from
My pa has gone off the Neck," piped little Sam pursuit-if not from observation.
Snowman; "we might take his boat." Was there ever such a lark !
Old Snowman's boat was a big, clumsy thing,- There we were-ten of us-masters of the Red
once a ship's jolly-boat,-and now rather rotten. Rover, of the Bloody Seas, as Jem Conner, who had
We knew her well enough. More than once, led "The Pirate's Own Book" at his tongue's end, call-
on by faithless little Sam, we had stolen away in ed our craft. We resolved to hoist the black flag;
the crazy old thing. But nobody was afraid; and and Jerry Murch's jacket, which was almost
we agreed to try her once more. black," as well as very seedy, was held aloft on an
Separating into small squads, so as not to attract oar; but that bit of wood being needed for rowing,
the notice of the few people who lounged in their we hauled down our colors. The tide ran out
swiftly,-for it was still on the ebb,-
and we got on famously, though the
-short, chopping waves bothered us
SIT DON, ORonewhat. yhard tuggingBDsomewhat. By hard tugging and
S- much squabbling over the steering
-- oar, we managed to keep the Red
-74- Rover's head against the wind, which
-.--.- blew freshly from the south. Ben
---- Dennett insisted that he should steer,
and, being the biggest boy, he man-
aged to keep hold of the oar most of
-I the time, while the rest of us took
turns at rowing.
But little Sam Snowman thought
he ought to steer; it was his father's
boat; and if anything happened to
'P- -7- her, he would catch it."
Yes; and you '11 catch it anyhow,
you young monkey," growled Ben,
-who had quite a bass voice, and ac-
i tually wore suspenders. The rest of
3 us had trousers "buttoned on," which
gave him a leading part; so he steered;
and nice work he made of it.
It was jolly to see the sleepy old
town grow dim and dimmer in the
S summer air as we merrily tumbled
over the rising waves. Down past
i ~_ Hatch'swharf, where lobster schooner
lay reeking in the sun, past the white
u lighthouse at the point, past Otter
I -K Rock, brown with kelp and washed
with the waves, we dropped, Jem Con-
ner making a formal declaration of
war against Weeks's salmon weir as
we rowed by it.
.. Tommy Collins, who had never
SIT DOWN, OR YOU'L. GET PITCHED OVERBOARD." been so far from home, and whom we







266 WRECKED AT HOME. [(MARCH,


had vainly tried to run away from, had a sudden which strikes the rock at low tide with great force,
qualm of homesickness, and began to cry, much to set us sharply toward the outer point of the reef
the disgust and astonishment of all on board. that reaches out to the north-west.
Belay your deck-pumps there, youngster! "Hard a-starboard yelled Bill Keeler.
shouted Ben Dennett. "What did you come here
for, you little beggar, if you wanted your ma ? "
Oh, avast heaving, skipper! put in Jem Con-
ner. Don't you see Tommy's only making be-
lieve cry? "
This ingenious turn put all in good humor.
Tommy, comforted by a slate pencil and a piece
of spruce gum, which generous Jack Adams pro-
duced from his trousers pocket, wiped away his
tears, or, as Jack put it, Stowed his brine; for
sailor talk was the rule now, as became a crew of
pirate boys.
"Fellers!" said Jem Conner, flourishing a
hatchet, the only loose piece of property found on
board, "Fellers! be bloody, brave and desperate,
and we shall be the terror of the seas. My Uncle
Joe has gone to Long Island in the Post soy; and
if we catch him we 'll pour a broadside into him,
and cut him down to the water's edge."
Oh, blow your Uncle Joe!" said Jack Adams-
whom we usually called, The Bloody Mutineer,"
on account of his namesake of the mutineers of the
ship Bounly,--" sit down and trim ship, or you '11
get pitched overboard." Jem sat down, abashed;
for the Red Rover was rolling fearfully, and little
Tommy Collins, deathly seasick, was whining and IVE WERE $HNIVRECTED
whooping over the side of the boat.
We would have put back, but the tide was still Helm a-lee i screamed Rufe Parker.
running out. Besides, the tall gray and white "Down! down with your helium said Jerry
crags of Grampus Rock were now looming over- Murch.
head. The sea grew smoother, but the current, Bewildered by these contradictory orders, and
overpowered by the crowd of
boys who rushed aft to take
the steering-oar from him,
Ben yawed the boat wildly
around; the tide took her
hard and fast on the rocks;
she heeled over, went to
pieces, and in a jiffy we were
all overboard. Each boy
scrambled among the weedy
rocks, Ben Dennett swim-
ming with Tommy Collins
on his back, though the
water was only knee-deep.
There was a rush of waves,
a stifled scream or two, and
ten boys were flung on the
reef, very wet, and too as-
tonished to laugh or cry.
We were shipwrecked.
Jack Adams was the first
THE CASTAWAYS. to speak, Here's a go."







1874] WRECKED AT HOME. 267

Those are the very words he said. "I wish larking on Grampus. The next tack took him far
I had something to eat," whined Rufe Parker. below us, and the little craft soon stretched away
Rufe was always stuffing himself. Then two or into the dim blue depths of Somes' Sound.
three of the smaller boys began to cry. But The sun slowly sank behind the Camden Mount-
Tommy Collins, to our great surprise, took things ains. The rosy sky grew gray. Night was coming
very comfortably. He said he was glad to be on faster than we had ever known before. It was
ashore, anyhow. My private opinion was that he no longer fun to scramble among the rocks. We
had n't been homesick at all. He was only sea- were chained to our prison; and Bill Keeler, who,
sick. now that he is grown up, writes poetry for the
But we were in a bad fix. The town was two magazines, said, looking up into the darkening sky,
miles off, and only the lower edge of it in sight. "I would I were yonder eagle; how I would fly
We mites of boys could not possibly be seen on me from hence!"
that great rock. Our boat was in fragments on the "'T aint an eagle; it's a loon," growled Ben
shore; and our hearts sank as we thought of Old Dennett. But little Sam cried outright.
Snowman's wrath. Poor little Sam whimpered when We crawled down to the water's edge again. It
one of the boys reminded him how he would was less lonely to huddle together under the lee of
"catch it," now. Some of us began to think we the rocks and gaze at the distant town than to stay
might never get home where we could "catch it." on the peak, where the night wind began to blow.
And how lovely the far-off town looked as we Two of the boys got to fighting about a soft place
gazed back at it. Sunning itself in the green and in the rock, which both wanted. This roused us
elm-covered peninsula, home never seemed so beau- for a moment; but when jem Conner had punched
tiful before. A great lump rose up in my throat as the heads of the quarrelers, and crawled into the
I looked on the dome of horse chestnut trees that coveted place himself, we grew silent again.
hid my father's house. Would my little white bed --- _
be vacant to-night? Would I ever sleep in it
again? Could Aunt Rachel, from her long, red
house down by the wharf, see the poor little midget
who sorrowfully roosted on the wet crags ?
But what boy is long in the dumps about any-
thing? We, at least, could climb to the tip-top of
Grampus Rock; and climb we did. The exertion
warmed us, and gave us new life. We danced
about in the warm afternoon sunshine, and laid new -
plans. We were not Robinson Crusoes exactly,
but ten Robinson Crusoes, which was much more
jolly. True, our spirits sank when we reflected
that there was no water on the rock, nor any game,
not so much as a gull, nor an egg. We had been
deceived. The rock, rough and splintered as it
was, was as bare of eggs as the sea itself. Here
and there were knots of dry sea-weed, packed in the
crevices, ill-smelling bones which the fish-hawks had
left; and around the base of the rocks were mussels
and limpets in plenty.
"Hurrah boys i" shouted Jack Adams, "we
can live on mussels-at least for a day or two," he
added, somewhat sobered by the prospect.
A passing pinkey, beating against the tide,
raised our hopes. As she neared our rock, we _
jumped up and down on the sloping summit, yell-
ing to attract attention. On, on she came, cutting "IT'S GITCELL'S BOAT"
the green water as she luffed up to the wind. Our Tommy Collins got on his knees, and repeated,
shrill cries were heard, and Captain Booden-how Now, I lay me," and several other little prayers.
well we knew him-growled surlily back at us, put Though we said nothing, we all thought it was a
up his helm, fluttered the sails of the Two Brothers good thing for us that somebody was not ashamed
in the breeze, turned and sailed away, wondering to pray.
what those young monkeys were up to now, sky- But the rebellious little hearts on Grampus mostly







268 MAKE BELIEVE. [MAAcrH,


thought it a very hard case that we should be for- ing lights of Fairport, was a large sail-boat. The
gotten so soon by.the people on shore; for we be- little company of limp and languid boys was all
lived we were forgotten; and many a hungry little alive in an instant; even Tommy Collins darted up
rogue grew homesick, as he tried to guess what his in the dark shadow of the rock, and shouted,
folks at home had for supper as they gathered about Saved,-by golly "
the table, and wondered where the truant was. It's Gitchell's boat."
The lights twinkled across the bay, mocking the "'Taint; it's Hatch's."
poor little chaps huddled under the rocks, sore, "I say it 's Morey's."
weary and not well clad to endure the chilly breeze Pooh I tell you it's Gitchell's."
that comes breaking in from the sea. In the midst of the dispute (for every boy had a
The new moon swam lightly down in the west; natural pride in his marine knowledge), the boat,
the bay grew stiller yet, and the lapping of the tide which had been standing directly for Grampus,
on the reef was all the sound they heard, glided along shore, sank into the uncertain shadows
"A sail! a sail, sail, sail, ahoy!" deliriously and was seen no more.
shouted Jerry Murch. We were not saved after all; and we fell into
Sure enough; right in the wake of the glimmer- great dismay.
(Cocluded neit miiont.)




MAKE- BELIEVE.

BY S. S. H.

"WE'LL play it's Christmas, Bessie, "'T was just to s'prise us, Bessie,
And we 'll have a Christmas tree, And, now, won't it be fun
And !i.:rt s-' -i. .. q ready, To make Mamma a Christmas tree,
We !! .i-fi!--, ,i!,,... to see. And call her, when it's done!'

Then Amy stuck the duster-brush
Through the cane seat of a chair,
.And she and Bessie went to work-
A merry little pair.

They hung its drooping branches
A s full as they could hold;
'i Trimmed them with motto-papers,
'' ,. Yellow and green and gold.

:'., ,i With many a gleeful whisper,
And many a cautious "hush "
SDid Bess and Amy make it gay-
That pretty duster-brush.

I.. / Oh oh cried Amy, at the last;
U" "I never did! Did you?
S Just see the splendid little things,
And gold a-shinin' through!

"We have n't any candles,
But we'll play the whole day-light
S- Is 'cause there's lots of candles
All lit, and burning bright.

"Don't you remember Christmas? "Let's call Mamma now, Bessie;
That was the way, you know,- And, oh! how s'prised she'll be
We could n't see a single thing, To see we've got a Christmas,
And we did want to so! And made a Christmas tree!"







s74.1 RASCALLY SANDY. 269



RASCALLY SANDY.

BY ROBERT DALE OWEN.

I AM "now more than seventy years old; but I re- our lives, we children witnessed the marvelous rise,
member very well that, in my earliest years, I was from the pipe-bowl, of the brightly variegated bub-
a self-willed youngster, and that I sometimes gave ble; its slow, graceful ascent into upper air; and,
way to violent fits of passion. Perhaps you, my alas its sudden disappearance, at the very climax
young friends who read ST. NICHOLAS, would like of our wonder. My delight was beyond all bounds;
to know what came of this when I was about seven and so was my gratitude to the one-armed magician,
years old. I have recently told the story for grown- I take credit for this last sentiment, to make up for
up people in a book which I called, "Threading the crime which was to follow.
my Way," because it speaks of what I thought and We had in the house a sort of odd-job boy, who
did when like you. I had not been very long in ran errands, helped now and then in the stables,
the world, and so did not know much, and was carried coals to the fires, and whose early-morning
groping about, as a traveler might who is not sure duty it was to clean the boots and shoes of the
of the right road and is trying hard to find it. household. His parents had named him, at the
I 'm going to tell you that story, not just as I told fount, after the Macedonian conqueror, the cele-
it there, but a little more as I think you would like brated Alexander the Great, of whom you have
to hear it. It is the same child, only, as it is going read, or will read by and by; but their son, unlike
into younger company, it is somewhat differently King Philip's, was nick-named Sandy.
dressed for the occasion. Sandy, according to my recollection of him, was
I had an excellent father and mother. the worst of bad boys. His chief pleasure seemed
We lived in those days, and for many years after, to consist in inventing modes of vexing and enrag-
at a very pretty place called Braxfield House. It ing us; and he was quite ingenious in his tricks of
was on the banks of the Clyde, which, your geogra- petty torture. Add to this that he was very jealous
phy will tell you, is one of the principal rivers of of James Dunn's popularity; especially when we
Scotland, The house stood on a piece of rolling told him, as we often did, that we hated him.
land, with blue grass pastures, where many sheep One day my brother William, a year younger
fed; and the slope from the pasture to the river than myself, and I had been out blowing soap-
was covered with thick woods, through which gravel bubbles (" all by ourselves," as w.e were wont to
paths wound back and forth, boast, in proof that we were getting to be big boys),
Our house was about half way between New Lan- and had returned triumphant. In the courtyard
ark-a village where my father had a large cotton we met Sandy, to whom, forgetting, for the mo-
factory, in which many children worked-and the ment, by-gone squabbles, we joyfully related our
ancient shire-town of Lanark. When you read exploits, and broke out into praises of the pipe-
about Sir William Wallace, in the history of Scot- giver as the nicest man that ever was. That nettled
land, you will hear a good deal about Lanark. the young scamp, and he began to abuse our well,
They used in old times, to have near by, on what beloved post-carrier as a lazy loun that hadna' but
was called "The Moor," wappin sch/aws, that yin arm, and could do naething with the tither but
means, weapon shows," or reviews of armed cowp letters into the post-office and make up bairns'
soldiers. trashtrie" (by which he meant a lazy fellow, with
Now, as there was no post-office in the village, one arm only, who could do nothing but empty
one of our workmen, called James Dunn, an old letters into the post-office, and make up trash for
spinner, who had lost an arm by its being caught children).
in the machinery of the mill, was our letter-carrier' This made me angry, and I suppose I must have
-the bearer of a handsome leather bag, with gay given him some bitter reply; whereupon Sandy
brass padlock, which gave him a sort of official dig- snatched the richly prized pipe from my hand, broke
nity with us young people. off its stem close to the bowl, and threw the frag-
If James Dunn had lost one arm,.he made excel- ments into what we used to call the shoe-hole: "
lent use of the other; making bows and arrows and not a very proper name for a small outhouse, hard
fifty other nice things for our amusement, and thus by, where our tormentor discharged his duties as
coming into distinguished favor. One day he gave shoe-black.
me a clay pipe, showed me how to mix soap-water We hated to be set down as tell-tales, so we did
in due proportion, and then, for the first time in n6t say a word about this to father or mother. But







270 RASCALLY SANDY. [MARCH,

when, an hour later, I burst into tears at the sight I had long to wait, Sandy being late that morn-
of James Dunn, I had to tell him our story. He ing; but my wrath only boiled the more hotly for
made light of it, wisely remarking that there were the delay. At last there was a step, and the door
more pipes in the world; and, shouldering his post- moved. Down with all the might of rage came
bag, went off to the "auld toun." the broom-the hard end of the cross-piece fore-
You may imagine my joyful surprise when, on most-on the devoted head that entered. The foe
his return, he gave me another pipe. sank on the ground. I sprang forward-but what
I took it up to an attic room of which I had the was this? The head I had struck had on a beauti-
run when I wished to be alone; locked the door, ful white lace cap It flashed on me in a moment;
with a vague feeling as if Sandy were at my heels; I had struck not the Sandy I hated, but our kind,
sat down and gazed on the new treasure. The very good housekeeper, Miss Wilson !
same as the pipe I had tearfully mourned! brand Miss Wilson was a nice, orderly, painstaking,
new, just from the shop. But the delight its first neatly-dressed lady, thirty-five or forty years old.
sight had given me faded when I thought of the She understood all about keeping house and man-
sacrifices that dear, good man had been making aging servants; and she was very gentle too, and
for my sake. It was so generous of him to give much inclined to make pets of the children around
me the first pipe I had no idea whatever of its her. Next to James Dunn she was our greatest
money value; to me it was beyond price. Then favorite. I am afraid one reason why we loved her
here-his generosity had been taxed a second time. was rather a selfish one, My mother had allowed
Again he had been spending for me out of his her to have us children all to tea with her every
wages, which I supposed must be small, since he Sunday evening, on condition that each cup was to
had only one arm to work with. And who had be two-thirds of warm water; but nothing was said
been the cause of all this woful sacrifice? That about how much sugar we might have.
vile, cruel, rascally Sandy To him it was due Now, in that country, and in those days, young
that James Dunn had felt compelled to make a folk, both gentle and simple, were restricted to
second purchase,-to the stinting, perhaps, of his very frugal fare. For breakfast, porridge (that is,
poor wife and children! And-who could tell?- oatmeal mush) and milk; for supper, bread and
the same cruel ill-turn might be repeated again and milk only. At dinner we were helped once spar-
again. Ah then my indignation rose, till I could ingly to animal food, and once only to pie or pud-
hear the heart-beats. ding; but we had as many vegetables and as much
I remember distinctly that no plans of revenge oatmeal cake as we chose. Scottish children under
had arisen in my mind caused by the destruction the age of fourteen were rarely allowed either tea
of my first pipe; however enraged I was at the per- or coffee; and sudh was the rule in our house.
petrator of that outrage. It was only when I found Till we were eight or ten years old we were not
one of my dearest friends thus plundered, on my admitted to the evening meal in the parlor.
account, that my wrath, roused to white heat, gave Miss Wilson's tea-table furnished the only peep
forth vapors of vengeance, we had of the Chinese luxury.
I brooded over the matter all day, so that I can't Thus the Sunday evening in the housekeeper's
plead that what I did was on the spur of the mo- parlor (for Miss Wilson had her own nicely fur-
ment. Toward evening my plans took shape; and, nished parlor between the kitchen and the servants'
ere I slept, which was long after I went to bed, dining-hall) was something to which we looked
every detail had been arranged. My adversary eagerly forward. On that occasion we had toast as
was a large, stout, lubberly fellow, more than twice well as tea; and the banquet sometimes ended with
my age; and I had to make up in stratagem for a well-filled plate of sugar-biscuit, a luxury dearly
my great inferiority in strength. prized because it was so rare.
Next morning, before the nursery-maid awoke, These weekly feastings gave rise among us to a
I crept slyly from bed, dressed in silence, went somewhat singular name for the first day of the
down stairs to the courtyard, and armed myself week. We took this, not from the sermons we
with a broom: not one of your light, modern, heard, or the catechism we learnt on that day, but
.broom-corn affairs, but a downright heavy thing, from the nice things on Miss Wilson's table; some-
with a stout handle and heavy wooden cross-head, what irreverently calling Sunday the toast-biscuit-
set with bristles. It was as much as I could do to tea-day. I am not certain whether this new name
wield it. of ours ever reached my mother's ears; for Miss
Then I took a look at the enemy's camp. No Wilson was too discreet to retail the confidential
Sandy yet in the "shoe-hole !" I went in, set the jokes which we permitted ourselves in the privacy
door ajar, and took post, with uplifted weapon, be- of her little suppers.
hind it. Under the circumstances, one may judge of my







'874.1 RASCALLY SANDY. 271

Horror when I saw on whom the broom-head had Then, in an undertone, looking at me: It was a
fallen. The sight stunned me almost as much as fell crunt, yon. I didna think the bit callan could
my blow had stunned the poor woman who lay hit sae snell."
before me. I have a dim recollection of people, I ought here to tell you that servants and other
called in by my screams, raising Miss Wilson and working people in Scotland generally speak in a
helping her to her room; and then I remember curious dialect, called "broad Scotch," as you
nothing more till I found myself, many hours later, may have seen, or will some day see, in Walter
in the library; my mother standing by with her Scott's novels. The servant meant to say that
eyes red, and my father looking at me more in Miss Wilson's head still pained her, but she was
sorrow than in anger. much better, and would be glad to see the child; "
"Would n't you be very sorry, Robert," he said adding, "That was an awful blow on the head; I
at last, if you were blind ? did n't think the slip of a boy could hit so hard."
I assented, as well as my sobs would allow. When I saw Miss Wilson in her arm-chair, with
Well, when a boy or man is in such a rage as pale cheeks and bandaged head, I could not say a
you were, he is little better than blind or half mad. single word. She held out her arms; I flung mine
He does n't stop to think or to look at anything, round her neck, kissed her again and again, and
You did n't know Miss Wilson from Sandy." then fell to crying long and bitterly. The good
My conscience told me that was true. I had soul's eyes were wet as she took me on her knee
struck without waiting to look. and soothed me. When my father offered to take
You may be very thankful," my father went me away I clung to her so closely that she begged
on, "that it wasn't Sandy. You might have to have me stay.
killed the boy." I think the next half hour, in her arms, had
I thought it would have been no great harm if I crowded into it more sincere repentance and more
had, but I did n't say so. good resolves for the future than any other in my
Are you sorry for what you have done? life. Then, at last, my sobs subsided, so that I
I said that I was very, very sorry that I had hurt could pour into her patient, ear the whole story of
Miss Wilson, and that I wanted to tell her so. My my grievous wrongs: Sandy's unexampled wicked-
father rang the bell and sent to inquire how she ness in breaking the first pipe; James Dunn's un-
was. heard-of generosity in buying the second; the
"I am going to take you to ask her pardon, little chance I had if I didn't take the broom to
But it's of no use to be sorry unless you do better. such a big boy; and then-
Remember this! I have never struck you. You "But, Miss Wilson," I said, when I came to
must never strike anybody." that point, "what madeyou come to the shoe-hole,
It was true. I cannot call to mind that I ever, and not Sandy?"
either before or since that time, received a blow I wanted to see if the boy was attending to his
from any human being; most thankful am I that work."
I have been spared the knowledge of how one I then told her I would love her as long as she
feels under such an insult. Nor, from that day lived, and that she must n't be angry with me;
forth, so far as I remember, did I ever give a blow and when she had promised to love me too, we
in anger again, parted.
The servant returned. "She has a sair head It only remains to be said, that about a month
yet, sir; but she's muckle better. She's sitting' up afterwards, Sandy was quietly dismissed. We all
in her chair, and would be fain to see the bairn." breathed more freely when he was gone.








a Z:->







272 ELFIN JACK, THE GIANT-KILLER. [MARCH,




ELFIN JACK, THE GIANT-KILLER.

BY J. S. STACY.

Do not think the story
Of the giant-killer's glory
Is only known and cherished by yourselves,
O, my dears;
For his deeds so daring,
And his trick of scaring
All his foes, are quite familiar to the elves,
It appears.

In the starlight, tender-
In the moonlight's splendor
Do they gather and recount every deed,
It is said;
How he met a hornet,
Who was playing on a cornet,
Out of tune, and he slew him with a reed,-
Slew him dead!

























How, growing ever bolder,



He sought a mighty giant,
tr



th












Who was known as "Worm, the pliant,"
I-~ ~ -





How, growing ever bolder,
With his reed upon his shoulder,
And an acorn-shield upon his little arm-
Well equipped-
He sought a mighty giant,
Who was known as Worm, the pliant,"
And after giving battle, fierce and warm,
Left him whipped.







.874.) ELFIN JACK, THE GIANT-KILLER. 273


How he saw a spider
With her victim, dead, inside her,
Told her, in a voice of fury, to begone
From his sight;
How he killed her when she'd risen
To her cruel, fatal prison,
And nobly freed her captives, so forlorn,-
Gallant knight!










P 0













Ah, but the elves are proudest,
And ring his praises loudest,
When telling of a snail, grim and hoary,
In his mail.
With those fearful horns before him,
Jack gallantly upbore him,
And killed him with a thrust (to his glory)
In the tail!

List in the starlight, tender,-
List in the moonlight's splendor,-
For a whirring, like hurrahing, in the glen,
Far and near.
'T is the elves who, looking back
To their giant-killer, Jack,
Tell his story to each other, funny men!
With a cheer.











VOL. I.-i8.








274 MAKING SNOW. [MARCH,




MAKING SNOW.

BY JAMES RICHARDSON.

"OH, Kitty! come and see what a awful What has steam to do with snow, papa ?"
heavy frost It's all over everything,-ever so Very much, as I'11 show you presently. Here
thick." we are Now, Tommy, can you tell us what we've
Why, you little goosey That is n't frost,- come for ? "
it's snow." You're going to show us about snow,-how it
"Snow ? What is snow?" makes itself,-are n't you ? "
Just think, papa, Tommy does n't know what "I'll try. You see all this steam rising from the
snow is boiler. Do you know what it is ?"
Tommy was a baby when the snow was here It's steam."
last winter, and he does n't remember it. You Yes, but what is steam ?"
must tell him." Tommy does n't know, papa; but I do. It's
"Why snow is,-nothing but snow Everybody water-vapor. You told me that a good while ago."
knows what snow is, papa." "See, Tommy; when I hold this cold shovel
Tommy does n't, you see. Tell him." over the kettle it turns some of the steam back to
"I '11 get some for him. See, Tommy, this is water again. The shovel is all wet now."
snow." Where does the rest of the steam go to ?"
It's white, like frost,-and cold,-and wet." The air drinks it up,-dissolves it, just as your
But it is n't frost,-it's snow. It came out of tea dissolves the sugar put into it,-and you can't
the sky last night." see it any more. But the- cold door-knob or the
"Did it? I did n't see any when I went to bed. cold window-glass brings it out again; see how wet
And it is n't frost ?" they are. That is from the steam in the air. You will
"No, I tell you; can't you believe me?" remember, Kitty, what I told you about the dew
It turns to water, like frost. See, it's all melt- that forms on the grass on cool summer evenings,
ing." and how in the fall, when it is colder, the dew
"Just listen to him, papa He won't believe a freezes and makes frost. Here by the stove it is so
word I say." warm that the dew cannot freeze on the windows
Do you know what frost is, Tommy? and nails and door-hinges. Further away, a little
Yes, I know. It's fine ice, like you scraped frost forms around the cracks where the cold air
for me the other day." comes in; and see here in the corner, where it is
Very well; now let us see if snow is anything very cold (it's so far from the stove), all the nails
like that. I will scrape some frost from the window, have frost on them, and the window panes are
and Kitty will bring some snow from out-doors. covered with it."
Just a little, Kitty, on this piece of paper. That's "But how does the snow come ?"
right; thank you. Now let us look at the two. "Be patient, Tommy, and I'll show you di-
Both are white; both are cold; and see both are rectly."
turned to water by the warmth of the stove. What You know, Kitty, that there's a great deal of
is the difference ?" steam or water-vapor in this room, though you can-
There is n't any difference." not see much of it. You know, too, that anything
Oh, yes, there is, Tommy. Snow falls out of cold will turn the steam back to water again, and
the sky,-I 've seen it,-and frost does n't." if it is very cold it will freeze the water and make
What makes it ? frost of it.
It is n't made; it just comes." "Now, suppose the cold thing would n't let the
What makes it come ? frost stick to it, the frost would have to fall to the
Did you ever see such a boy to ask questions, floor and then it would be snow.
papa?" "Cold air acts that way; it freezes the vapor,
A very good boy to ask questions, Kitty. I but cannot hold the frost. On very cold days I've
hope he will always ask them as sensibly. Let me seen a real little snow storm made in a hot, steamy
try to make the matter clear to him; I think we '11 room just by opening a window or a door.
get on best down in the big kitchen, where they "Maybe it's cold enough for it to-day. We
are boiling clothes for the wash and filling the place can try, anyhow, and if we fail we can try again
with steam." some colder day.







1874.l MAKING SNOW. 275

"Here, where the air is warm and steamy, I '11 Precisely. Yesterday it was warm and wet, you
.open the window at the top so that the cold wind will remember. There was a great deal of water-
will blow in. Look sharp, now vapor in the air. Last night it grew cold, suddenly.
"I can see them! I can see them! Realsnow- A cold wind blew down on the warm, wet wind
flakes! Oh, Tommy, see! Is n't it funny to make that had come up from the.sea and chilled it,-as
a snow storm in the kitchen ?" the cold wind coming in at the window chilled the
"Look again. There's no snow flying outside; air in the room,-and froze its vapor into snow.
but as soon as I open the window a little, and the That is what made the snow storm last night.
cold air rushes in, the snow-flakes appear." "You need n't look so wise, Tommy. You'll
"What makes them go out so quick? understand it better when you're bigger."
"The warm air in the room melts them as soon I understand it now, papa. The wind blowed
as they fall into it." and-and it made a nawful big frost; did n't it?"
"Is that the way the snow is made up in the A very big frost, Tommy."
sky?" "That's what I said !"














































BROKEN '.
7,,








-....B i. O '7"


'. --. ....... t '-















BROKEN







276 EMPRUNT DE PEINE. MARCH,



EMPRUNT DE PEINE.

PAR J. S. S.

IL y a plus de deux cents ans vivaient en Castille faits de cette r6ponse. Ils s'adress&rent en secret
un beau prince et une belle princess qui poss6- au plus puissant de leurs courtisans et, A leur grand
daient tout ce qu'un bon coeur human peut avoir- 6tonnement, essuyerent un refus accompagn6 d'un
except de la peine. I1 semblait qu'il ne pouvait sourire et d'une reverence c6r6monieuse.
leur en arriver. IUs talent jeunes, pleins de sante, Ils se rendirent m&me aupres du bouffon de la
joyeux; ils avaient des parents bons et tres riches, cour.
et de plus ils comptaient.des. amis qui avaient pour "Ah! c'est une tres pr6cieuse chose que la
eux une sincere affection, ce qui est un tres rare peine dit le bouffon. On ne peut l'acheter, et
bonheur pour les personnel de sang royal. Souvent elle ne peut s'obtenir par une simple demand.
la princess disait: Mais vous pouvez l'emprunter."
"Ferdinand, qu'est-ce que la peine ? Comment Bon s'6cria le couple enchant6. "Nous en
la sent-on? emprunterons pour le moment."



.' Y Ii ..
I '$ l" 4"1,






















COMMENT VOUS SENTEZ-VOUS, FERDINAND

Et Ferdinand rpondait: "H1as! Isabelle, je "Mais," ajouta le bouffon, "si vous en em-
ne le sais pas." pruntez, il faudra rendre en meme monnaie."
"Demandons A nos parents de nous en dormnner, HIlas !" soupirerent le prince et la princess,
poursuivait Isabelle; ils ne nous refusent jamais "comment pourrons-nous, si nous n'avons pas de
rien." peine qui soit nous ? "
Mais le roi et la reine fr6mirent a leur demand: Eh bien en voila de la peine prononga le
"Non, non, chers enfants," s'6criArent-ils, "vous bouffon, et il s'esquiva.
ne savez pas c que vous demanded. Priez que "Qu'a-t-il voulu dire par ces paroles?" dit le
ces mauvais souhaits disparaissent de vos ceurs prince, presque A bout de patience: mais il ne
Mais le prince et la princess ne furent pas satis- faut pas s'en occuper, ce n'est qu'un fou."
"Nn o, hr nans"sdrirn-ls vu oufn til s'suia
ne ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~I sae a eqevu eadz re qe"Q'--lvuudr a e aoes"dte


ces auvis ouhitsdispraisen devoscoeus !" pinc, p esqe&bu d aine: mi ln
ais lepineelapicsenfuetpssrs utps'eocueenesqun u.








1874.1 NIMPO S TROUBLES. 277

Puis, d6sesp6r6s, les deux enfants allkrent trouver "Ni notre ch&re vieille bonne," dit Isabelle, avec
leur fiddle bonne qui 6tait rest6e au palais depuis un sentiment strange dans les yeux.
leur naissance: Ni notre clire bonne."
Chire Catherine," dirent-ils, "nous n'avons ja- C'est de la mechancete."
mais eu de peine. Les pritres disent que c'est le C'est de l'inso.lence."
commun lot des mortels. Avez-vous eu le v6tre ?" C'est de l'ingratitude."
"Oh, oui mes mignons, j'ai toujours eu de la Une tris grande ingratitude."
peine au delh de mes d6sirs !" r6pondit tristement la C'est de la cruaute acheva Isabelle en san-
vieille femnie en branlant la tite. glotant ; et mes yeux sont tout remplis de larmes !
"Oh! oh! donnez-nous en, donnez-nous en, Comment vous sentez-vous, Ferdinand?"
bonne Catherine," demanderent h l'envi le prince Tris mal, Isabelle. Je pense que mes yeux se
et la princess. mouillent aussi de larmes "
Mais Catherine leva les mains en signe d'horreur A ce moment-lh le jardinier en chef venait de
et s'eloigna en chancelant et en marmottant des leur c6te. II court a eux.
prieres. "Mon cher prince et ma chere princess! "
Alors le prince et la princess descendirent dans s'ecria-t-il en se mettant a genoux devant eux;
le jardin et s'assirent sur un banc de mousse. "vous pleurez Ciel! Penser que. ces nobles et
Personne ne nous donnera ce que nous avons beaux enfants pouvaient avoir de la peine "
demand6" dit Isabelle; c'est tres dur." De la peine repetirent en chceur Ferdinand
Oui, tr6s dur," r6p6ta Ferdinand en pregnant et Isabelle. Cea est de la peine, Carlos "
la main de sa sceur. Assur6ment, je pense," r6pondit Carlos, fort
Nos parents ne nous avaient jamais rien refuse intrigue.
auparavant," reprit Isabelle. Alors le prince et la princess se levirent vive-
Jamais," r6pondit Ferdinand. ment en battant des mains et ils coururent au palais
"Ni les courtisans," ajouta Isabelle. heureux comme deux oiseaux. Leur vceu 6tait
Ni les courtisans," r6p6ta Ferdinand. enfin exauc6.
[We shall be glad to see translations of this story from all of our young friends who are studying French. The best
one received before March x5th shall be printed in our May number.]






NIMPO'S TROUBLES.

BY OLIVE THORNE.

CHAPTER V. whiskers. The whiskers began where the hair left
THE FIRST SUNDAY. off, and so his pale face was always framed in a sort
of golden halo, which alone made it something
THE next day was Sunday, and Nimpo was up awful. But this was nothing to his eyes. They
early, feeling the responsibility of getting the boys were very large, and of that sharp kind that seem
and herself ready for church and Sunday-school. to look right through One.
With all her desire for liberty, she never had so Nimpo used to feel that they could spy out any-
wild a dream as staying at home from church. thing in her secret heart.
In fact, in that village, one who deliberately I said he had odd ways, and I'll tell you how he
stayed at home when he was able to stand, was would do, that you may see why she was afraid of
looked upon as a desperate sinner, him. When he met her anywhere, he would fix
Nimpo did not feel prepared to face the public those awful eyes on her, and say, in a loud, abrupt
opinion of the whole town, especially as she was way, "Whose girl are you?"
sure Mr. Binney,-the minister,-would notice her Mr. Rievor's," Nimpo would say, trembling.
absence and speak about it. "What's your name?"
Mr. Binney was a very good man, and very "Nimpo."
earnest in doing good; but his ways were very odd, "Nimpo!-a heathenish name! Did your
and he was a perpetual terror to Nimpo. father give you that name ? "
He was a tall, thin man, with reddish hair and "No, it's a nickname; my real name is Helen."








1874.1 NIMPO S TROUBLES. 277

Puis, d6sesp6r6s, les deux enfants allkrent trouver "Ni notre ch&re vieille bonne," dit Isabelle, avec
leur fiddle bonne qui 6tait rest6e au palais depuis un sentiment strange dans les yeux.
leur naissance: Ni notre clire bonne."
Chire Catherine," dirent-ils, "nous n'avons ja- C'est de la mechancete."
mais eu de peine. Les pritres disent que c'est le C'est de l'inso.lence."
commun lot des mortels. Avez-vous eu le v6tre ?" C'est de l'ingratitude."
"Oh, oui mes mignons, j'ai toujours eu de la Une tris grande ingratitude."
peine au delh de mes d6sirs !" r6pondit tristement la C'est de la cruaute acheva Isabelle en san-
vieille femnie en branlant la tite. glotant ; et mes yeux sont tout remplis de larmes !
"Oh! oh! donnez-nous en, donnez-nous en, Comment vous sentez-vous, Ferdinand?"
bonne Catherine," demanderent h l'envi le prince Tris mal, Isabelle. Je pense que mes yeux se
et la princess. mouillent aussi de larmes "
Mais Catherine leva les mains en signe d'horreur A ce moment-lh le jardinier en chef venait de
et s'eloigna en chancelant et en marmottant des leur c6te. II court a eux.
prieres. "Mon cher prince et ma chere princess! "
Alors le prince et la princess descendirent dans s'ecria-t-il en se mettant a genoux devant eux;
le jardin et s'assirent sur un banc de mousse. "vous pleurez Ciel! Penser que. ces nobles et
Personne ne nous donnera ce que nous avons beaux enfants pouvaient avoir de la peine "
demand6" dit Isabelle; c'est tres dur." De la peine repetirent en chceur Ferdinand
Oui, tr6s dur," r6p6ta Ferdinand en pregnant et Isabelle. Cea est de la peine, Carlos "
la main de sa sceur. Assur6ment, je pense," r6pondit Carlos, fort
Nos parents ne nous avaient jamais rien refuse intrigue.
auparavant," reprit Isabelle. Alors le prince et la princess se levirent vive-
Jamais," r6pondit Ferdinand. ment en battant des mains et ils coururent au palais
"Ni les courtisans," ajouta Isabelle. heureux comme deux oiseaux. Leur vceu 6tait
Ni les courtisans," r6p6ta Ferdinand. enfin exauc6.
[We shall be glad to see translations of this story from all of our young friends who are studying French. The best
one received before March x5th shall be printed in our May number.]






NIMPO'S TROUBLES.

BY OLIVE THORNE.

CHAPTER V. whiskers. The whiskers began where the hair left
THE FIRST SUNDAY. off, and so his pale face was always framed in a sort
of golden halo, which alone made it something
THE next day was Sunday, and Nimpo was up awful. But this was nothing to his eyes. They
early, feeling the responsibility of getting the boys were very large, and of that sharp kind that seem
and herself ready for church and Sunday-school. to look right through One.
With all her desire for liberty, she never had so Nimpo used to feel that they could spy out any-
wild a dream as staying at home from church. thing in her secret heart.
In fact, in that village, one who deliberately I said he had odd ways, and I'll tell you how he
stayed at home when he was able to stand, was would do, that you may see why she was afraid of
looked upon as a desperate sinner, him. When he met her anywhere, he would fix
Nimpo did not feel prepared to face the public those awful eyes on her, and say, in a loud, abrupt
opinion of the whole town, especially as she was way, "Whose girl are you?"
sure Mr. Binney,-the minister,-would notice her Mr. Rievor's," Nimpo would say, trembling.
absence and speak about it. "What's your name?"
Mr. Binney was a very good man, and very "Nimpo."
earnest in doing good; but his ways were very odd, "Nimpo!-a heathenish name! Did your
and he was a perpetual terror to Nimpo. father give you that name ? "
He was a tall, thin man, with reddish hair and "No, it's a nickname; my real name is Helen."








278 NIMPO'S TROUBLES. [MARCH,

"Then, why did n't you say your name was with, perhaps, a glass of milk. And at half-past
Helen ? Helen, how old are you?" two they went to church again.
Twelve years," Nimpo would say. After.that, the rest of the day was spent in read-
Helen, have you given your heart to the Lord?" ing Sunday-school books, getting next week's les-
would come next. son, eating supper, and perhaps taking a nap.
I don't know," poor Nimpo would say, almost Sometimes, when their mother was at home, if
wishing the earth would open and let her in, and they were very quiet and would promise to walk
feeling the most frantic desire to run away. slowly, they were allowed to take a walk to the
At this uncertain answer would come an awful graveyard.
look, and these solemn words: But Mrs. Primkins thought that was wicked; so
Twelve years old and don't know whether after they had read their thin little Sunday-school
you 're a Christian I must pray for you." books twice through (Nimpo used to wonder if they
And if it was in a house, down he would go on were so thin because the children were so very good
his knees and pray for her, till poor Nimpo would that there was n't much to say about them), and
feel that she was the most wicked wretch in the had looked at all the pictures in the big Bible, they
world, and not know what to do about it either, were very glad to drag themselves off to bed at
Now, this,- though meant, of course, in the eight o'clock.
greatest kindness,-was simply shocking to Nimpo, I tell you thus carefully about Nimpo's Sundays,
who felt that the deepest secrets of her soul were because I want you to see how the world has be-
rudely torn out and held up to the view of the world. come wiser since she was little, and how much
You may be sure she always ran away when she more pleasant the blessed day is made for you.
saw him coming; crossed the street, dodged around
a corner, or slipped out of the back door to avoid CHAPTER VI.
him, for he always asked the same questions. MRS. PRIMKINS PUTS NIPO TO WORK.
Then his sermons,- an hour long, as they were,
-had a strange fascination for her. One especially MONDAY morning came, and Rush got ready for
she remembered so well, that when she was grown school.
up it seemed as if he had preached it a dozen times. I 'm not going to school to-day," said Nimpo.
It was on the parable of the two men, one of whom "Well, I am," said Rush. It 's awful dull
built his house upon a rock, and nothing could here, and I can have some fun with the boys."
shake it, while the other built his on the sand, and And off he started.
the storms beat upon it and it fell. Now, Nimpo felt rather lonesome; but one of
The first time Nimpo heard it she went home the things she thought her mother was especially
feeling very anxious, and getting Rush to help, she cruel about, was making her go to school every
dug a hole by the side of their house, to see if its day. So, of course, the only way to enjoy her
foundation were on a rock. liberty was to stay at home.
Well, on the Sunday I 'm telling about, though Mrs. Primkins saw what she intended to do, and.
she had to wear a clean gingham dress and her resolved to take her in hand. So after breakfast.
school shoes, she dressed Robbie, helped Rush she said, coolly:
put on his collar and tie his black neck-ribbon, "Nimpo, I expect you to do your own washing
and got ready herself..- while you are here. I have enough of my own,
As a last touch, after her hat was tied on, she without washing such a raft of things as that."
took up her clean handkerchief by the middle fold, And she pointed to the pile of clothes Nimpo had.
and shook it out so that the four corners hung put out.
together, and held it thus very carefully in her left It was rather a formidable pile,-three or four
hand. dresses, three or four linen suits for Robbie, as.
Then she went to a corner of the garden and many for Rush, besides under-clothes, and such
picked several bunches of green caraway or fennel, things.
to keep her awake in church. These she held with Nimpo looked at it in dismay; but Mrs. Primkins,
her handkerchief, and taking Robbie's hand, she went on:
called to Rush to bring her Sunday-school book "There's a pail you can take; here's a piece
from the table, and away they went to the Sunday- of soap; and you '11 find hot water on the stove."
school and church. Now, Nimpo knew no more about washing than
Sunday-school was at nine o'clock and church at a butterfly ; and her heart rebelled; but she did n't
half-past ten. So they did not get home till nearly quite dare to say anything. So, gloomily she went
one o'clock. to work. She filled the pail with water, seized a
Then they ate a lunch of pie and doughnuts, pair of Robbie's knickerbockers, and began.







1874.] NIMPO'S TROUBLES. 279


She rubbed and rubbed, and she soaped and "Oh, of course she will, only you was n't here
soaped, and not a speck could she get out of these this morning. She is n't going to have any boys;
clothes. Her back ached; the skin seemed scalded her mother won't let her."
from her hands; her dress was soaked from waist I'm glad of that," said Nimpo; "boys are so
to hem. rude."
But there was Augusta Primkins, not much I aint; I think it's real mean."
older than she, up to her brown elbows in suds, and At recess, the birthday party was the great sub-
working away with ease. So Nimpo's pride helped ject of conversation; and as soon as she saw Helen
her, and she endured as long as she could. At Nimpo received her invitation.
last, when the pain of her raw fingers became in- The invitations were not much like those which
tolerable, and the perspiration ran off her face in young ladies of twelve years get now-a-days, en-
big drops, and an extra swish of the knickerbockers graved or written as ceremoniously as their mam-
sent half the pail of suds over her clothes, she mas', enclosed in a dainty envelope, and sent by a
blazed up. servant.
Throwing down the garment with a tragical air, Helen just said to Nimpo:
she burst out with: O, Nimpo, I want you to come to my party,
Mrs. Primkins my mother does n't intend to next Saturday."
educate me for a washerwoman. I will send my "Well, I will," said Nimpo; and that was all.
clothes to Mrs. Jackson !" The great question, "What are you going to
I don't think your schoolin' is getting much at- wear ? came up next; and that was as important
tention, since you come here," said Mrs. Primkins, to these girls, with only one Sunday dress, as it is
dryly. I don't think children git much good run- to you with your many.
ning around, trapesing all over the country, with Nimpo had no reply to make to the question.
nothing to do. Satan always finds some work for Her Sunday dress was ruined, and she did not
idle hands to do. So, if you don't go to school, know what she should do.
why, you '11 have to work in my house. There's The girls pitied her, and had plenty of sugges-
no two ways about that. I 'll wash your clothes tions to make. One advised her to hunt up a white
now; you can do up the dishes." dress which she had outgrown, and let it down; and
Nimpo stalked from the wash-rdom into the another offered to lend her a dress of her older
kitchen, feeling that minding her was intolerable, sister's, which would only need tucking up and
yet too well brought up to think of serious re- taking in under the arms. But Nimpo was too
billion, proud to accept any such offer.
She washed the odious blue-edged dishes, feeling "If mother was home," she sighed, as rhe
all the time an aching desire to pitch them out of walked slowly home, "she would get me a new
the window. Then she went up stairs, threw her- dress; I know she would."
self on the bed and had a good cry. As she passed her father's store, she went in,
After awhile, she felt better, and got up and partly to see if any letters had come from her
changed her wet clothes, mother, and partly because she always did go in.
I guess I '11 go to school, if the mean old thing's Cousin Will happened to be in a pleasant mood,-
going to make me wash dishes," she said to herself. he was n't always,-and so Nimpo told him about
So in the afternoon she went to school. Miss the party and her spoilt dress.
Osgood was glad to see her, and so were the girls; If mother was here, she'd get me a new one,"-
and, to her own surprise, she felt happier than she she ended.
had since her mother went away. "I dare say she would," said Cousin Will. pity-
While they were bending over their geographies, ing the unhappy face of his little cousin, ran I 'II
rocking back and forth and moving their lips, ap- tell you what I'11 do, Nimpo. If you can find any-.
parently studying with all their might, Anna Morris, body to make your dress, I'll take the responsibility
who sat next to Nimpo, and was her "best friend," of letting you have one out of the store."
whispered softly: Oh will you ?" cried Nimpo. Oh, I'll be
"Do you know Helen Benson's going to have so glad! But who can I get?" she added, soberly,
her birthday party next Saturday ?" a moment later. The ladies in that primitive town
"Is she, truly?" asked Nimpo. made their own dresses. They did n't have forty
Yes; true's I live and breathe and draw the tucks or ruffles on them, I can tell you.
breath of life," said Anna; "and most all the girls Could n't Sarah make it ? suggested Cousin
are invited; I am." Will.
I wonder if she is n't going to invite me !" said I don't know; perhaps so; she does sew some-
Nimpo. times; and come to think of it, she told me she








280 NIMPO'S TROUBLES. [MARCH,


used to sew for her old mistress. But she is away CHAPTER VII.
off at her sister's."
SARAH'S STORY.
"Not so very far,-only a mile through the
woods. Rush knows where, for he and I went SARAH'S stories were wonderful things. To be
there once to get her." sure, they were apt to be a little startling, and
"Well, I'll go over and see her now," said generally ended by scaring her listeners half out of
Nimpo, excitedly. Where's Rush? their wits; but that only made them more delight-
He's out, behind the store i" said Cousin Will. fully exciting.
Nimpo soon found him. He was delighted with By this time the Johnson children, getting a hint
the proposal to go to Sarah's. of the coming treat, began to crowd around, and
They started off at once, calling a moment at Sarah began:
Mrs. Morris' to get Anna to go, too. Now, all you young uns must sit 'mazin' still if
Of course, all you young people know how de- I 'm gwine to tell a story."
lightful are walks in the woods; so I need not de- Nimpo and Anna were already occupying the
scribe that part of it, only to say that they stopped only spare chairs. Rush sat on the wood-box, and
so often to gather flowers, moss and other treasures, the biggest Johnson girl on a keg, while the rest of
that when they got to Mrs. Johnson's, their arms the children squatted around on the floor, making
and pockets and aprons were full. a close semicircle about Sarah.
Mrs. Johnson,-Sarah's sister,-lived in a long, Sarah's virtue as a story-teller was in her face and
low cabin made of logs, in the woods. She had a manner. She was very black, with large rolling
husband and six or eight children, and the entire eyes, a very long face, a monstrous mouth, great
family had run away from the South a few years white teeth, and long thin hands, which had an
before. uncanny white look on the inside, as though the
Sarah was busy, helping her sister spin, and was color were coming off.
quite surprised to see Nimpo. Perhaps you don't think hands have much to do
How do you git on, boarding ?" was her first with story-telling, but they had with Sarah's, I can
question. tell you.
"Not very well," said Nimpo; "but, Sarah, Quieting her audience with threats of "daring
I've come to see if you can't make me a rfew dress 'em all out the 'house," she began in a low, solemn
to go to Helen Benson's party?" voice:
La sakes now !" exclaimed Sarah. "Whar's Onct upon a time, way down in Ole Kentuck',
that new blue frock y'r ma done made fur ye?" there lived a M AN He was a-w-f-u-l rich, and
"I spoiled it,-fell in the creek," said Nimpo. had heaps an' heaps o' nice things in his dark
"Go 'long, now! What ye s'pose y'r ma '11 cellar. Bottles an' bottles o' wine, bar'ls an' bar'ls
say ?" o' cider, an' lots an' lots o' hams, bar'ls and bar'ls
"I don't know," said Nimpo, penitently; "but o' bacon, an' bins an' bins o' apples, an' jars an'
will you make the dress? Cousin Will says I may jars o' sweetmeats, an' boxes an' boxes o' raisins,
have one, if you '11 make it." an' 0 piles o' good things to eat, in that dark
"Lor'! ye oughten ter spile y'r cloze so. I don't cellar."
see how I kin do it, no ways." Sarah paused to see the effect. Rush smacked
Yes, Sarah," spoke up her sister; "make it fur his lips, and the eyes of the whole Johnson family
the po' child. I kin help ye." rolled in ecstasy at the delightful picture.
Nimpo turned gratefully to the speaker,-a big "But he was a-w-f-u-1 stingy Not a speck of
woman, with a fat black baby in her lap. all these yer goodies would he guy to a-n-y body.
Oh, thank you !" Lor' he al'us kep the key in his own pocket, an' if
And so it was settled that Sarah would make the he wanted ham for dinner, he went down in that
dress; and Nimpo agreed to "bring the stuff yer d-a-r-k cellar, an' cut a slice, nuff fur hisself.
around, the next day. An' if he wanted wine, he jes went down an' fetched
Sarah !" said Rush, now let's have a story." a bottle, an' al'us locked the do' arter him, an'
"Oh, oh, do !" cried Nimpo and Anna, in a n-e-v-e-r guv Sam the fastest speck "
breath; for Sarah was a famous story-teller.' "Who 's dat ar ? asked one of the children.
"You say you 'll come over, some day, and tell You shet up I '11 crack ye over the head, if
me'bout the party," said Sarah, "an' I'll tell ye a ye don't stop cutting' up sich shines Sarah re-
story, that '11 make y'r ha'r stan' up." plied.
Oh, yes; we 'll promise sure," said Nimpo, The interrupter shrunk behind his mother, and
eagerly, "if you only will tell us the story right felt snubbed.
off." "Well, now," Sarah went on, rolling her eyes,







1874.1 NIMPO'S TROUBLES. 281

" that ar Sam was a po' nigga,-the only nigga the Sam, I shall be gone away three days, an' that '11
stingy man had; an' he was that stingy he never have to last ye till I get back. I '11 warrant ye'd
half fed him no way. He guy him a leetle corn- like to jes eat it every scrap the fust day, an' ax fur
meal fur hoe cakes, an' onct in a g-r-e-a-t while a mo',-it's jes like ye,-but not a snojen do you get
leetle teeny bit uv a thin slice o' bacon. So Sam till I come back, fur I 've locked everything up.



























An' if I find anything but o' order
when I come back, I 'l,-I '11,--wal-
lop you; see if I don't '
With that ar d-r-e-f-f-u-l threat,
the cruel Mah'sr went off, an' left
Sam all alone. Well, Sam went to
o clarin' up the house, an' when he
went to hang up his Mah'sr's every-
day cloze,-fur in course he wore
his Sunday ohes to go t6 town,-
he hars something' hit agin the wall,
an' he thought to hisself: I '11 see
what that ar is. Mebby Mah'sr's
done leff a penny in his pocket.
Oh, golly! won't I buy a bun!'
An' he put his hand in the pocket,
SAMI IN THE CELLAR. an' wkat do you s'"ose he found ?

got thinner an' thinner, till he was near a shadder, "THE CELLAR KEY "
an' his fingers were l-o-n-g and b-o-n-y."
And Sarah held up hers and clawed them in the Sarah, looking wildly at her listeners, said these
air, till the children could almost see Sam and his thrilling words in an awful whisper, with a roll of
bony hands. the eyes and a dropping of the jaw, that made it
"Well, one day this bad man had to go 'way off still more horrible.
to the big city, an' he had n't got nobody to leave Oh, Lor' here 's the key !' said Sam to his-
in the house but jes Sam. So he done measured self; 'what s-h-a-1-1 I do?' An' then he thought
out jes so much corn-meal, an' he said: 'Now awhile. But, sakes chillen, 'pears like the Debil is







282 NIMPO'S TROUBLES. [MARCH


al'us waiting' fur chances, an' so he popped into sich things up har! An'thegemmen! Lor',chillen,
Sam's head to jes go an' look at the good things: if ye could see the fine long-tailed blue coats, with
' I won't touch ary bit,' said Sam, fur Ole Mah'sr 'd buttons shinin' like marygolds, ye'd laff fit to split
find out if one apple stem's gone,-but I'll look.' y'r sides.
That was the fust wrong step, chillen. Ye know "Arter the company was all there, an' talked a
how hard it is to defrain, if ye look at the things little 'bout the weather an' sich topics o' conversa-
ye oughten ter. Well, this yer onreverent nigga tion, he axed 'em, 'Would n't they like a little
c-r-e-p-t down stairs an' unlocked the do', an' defreshment?' They was very polite, an' said,
p-e-e-p-e-d in,-trem'lin', fit to drop. He more 'No, thank ye,' an' I'd rather be 'xcused.' But
spected to see Ole Mah'sr behind a bar'l. But it he went to the cellar, an' he took'd out g-r-e-a-t
was as s-t-i-l-1 as the grave, so he c-r-e-p-t in. plates o' apples an' g-r-e-a-t pitchers o' cider, an'
There hung the 1-o-n-g rows o' hams,-so juicy an' Tom helped him; an' they fetched out Ole Mah'sr's
sweet; and Sam went up an' thought to hisself, tum'lers, an' he filled 'em all up; an' he fetched
'Now; I'11 jes smell of one.' So he smelled of it, out a w-h-o-l-e jar o' sweetmeats, an' a g-r-e-a-t
an' it was so nice seems like he could n't help jes dish o' honey, an' pickles,-oh, Lor'! such heaps o'
touch it with his finger an' clap his finger in his things! An' all the time Sam said, so polite,
mouf, an' then he did it agin. Ye know, chillen, 'Ladies an' gemmen, hep yourself, there's mo' in
how the ole Debil stan's side o' ye an' helps ye on. Mah'sr's cellar !'
Arter Sam had tasted onct or. twice, he seen a "An' they did hep theirselves, an' they eat an'
t-e-e-n-y bit of a ham, way off in the fur corner, eat an' eat till they could n't stuff another moufful.
an' he said to hisself, I don't believe Ole Mah'sr '11 An' while they was all stuffin', an' Sam was gwine
ever miss that ar one,-'t aint much 'count no way.' round with a bottle o' wine in each hand, sayin' so
An', chillen, he was that hungry he could n't help polite, 'Ladies and gemmen, hep yourself, there 's
it, I do believe. He snatched that ham, an' he eat mo' in Mah'sr's cellar,' he-happened to look up !
an' eat an' eat till he could n't stuff another moufful,
an' hid the rest behind a bar'l. Then he went on "THERE WAS HIS MAH'SR! !!".
an' went on till he come to the apples,-bins an'
bins o' b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l red apples And he smelt As Sarah said, this she gave a horrible yell, and
of 'em, an' then he eat an' eat an' eat till he could sprang forward, clutching in the air, as though to
n't stuff another moufful. Then he went on an' seize them; and her spell-bound listeners screamed,
went on till he came to the shelf o' sweetmeats, an' and some of them fell over backwards.
he looked at 'em an' smelt of 'em, and finally he Delighted with the effect of her tragedy, she
snatched a jar, tore off the cover, an' eat an' eat waited till they gathered themselves up, withlawe-
an' eat till he could n't stuff another moufful. struck faces, to listen to the end.
"An' then he could n't eat any more, sure nuff, She lowered her voice to a ghostly whisper.
an' he went out an' locked the do'. But he never The Mah'sr sprang to get Sam, but Sam let out
had so much to eat in his life, an' 'pears like he was a screech nuff to raise the dead, an' dared out thro'
stuffed so full he sort o' lost his reasons. He went the do' 's tho' the Debil was arter him. The rest of
out an' laid down on a bench in the sun, an' he said the company slunk out 'thout axin' to be 'xcused,
to hisself, Lor' aint it nice to have nuff to eat an' was in bed every soul of 'em in two minutes,
fur onct; there's poor Jim, I don't s'pose he ever an' snorin' fit to raise the roof. Sam's mah'sr run
had nuff in his life.' An' then a w-e-r-y wicked till he got done tired out, an' then he dragged his-
idea come into his head. So, byem by he got up self home."
an' went over to Jim's,-he lived next do',-an' he Sarah stopped. After waiting a few minutes,
tole him soon 's it was night to come over, an' he Rush asked, in a scared sort of a voice, what be-
tole him to fotch Sally. Sally was the house gal, a came of Sam.
likely wench, an' Sam liked her. An' then he went Sarah rolled her eyes, shook her head, dropped
to Tom's and tole him to come too; and finally, her jaw, and said, slowly:
chillen, he 'vited quite a 'spectable company. Then He n-e-v-e-r was heard of agin."
he went home, an' he went into the woodshed an' "Run away ? suggested Rush.
fotched in big sticks o' wood, an' he made up a S'pose so. Mebby up Norf this very day, f'r
mose wonderful fire, an' swept out the big kitchen all I know." And Sarah turned to her work.
clean an' nice, tho' he was n't extra neat now, Sam Her audience drew long breaths, and tried to re-
was n't. 'Bout ten o'clock his company 'gan to sume their usual feelings, as though it were a com-
come, the ladies all dressed up fine in some of their mon day.
Missis' things,-low neck an' short sleeves, an' rib- But Sarah's stories invariably lasted longer than
bins an' white gloves. 0, go 'way yer don't see no other people's. They seemed to do away with







1874.] THE TRIO. 28'3


common everyday life, and the children could n't around nervously at every sound, half expecting
get over them. to see the bony, half-starved Sam, or his' fierce
But they were all the more delightful for that; master.
and Nimpo, Anna and Rush took their leave at But they were not afraid Of course not,-they
once, and walked home very quickly through the laughed at the idea of such a thing,-only Sarah's
woods, which were now rather dusky, looking stories always seemed so real.
(To be continued.)





THE TRIO.

BY MARY A. LATHBURY.




c-n


















Don't be careless, Billy, don't! Mind your notes, and look at me,-
You can sing well, but you won't. I 'm the leader, don't you see ?
Don't keep time with all your feet; Faster, Billy Louder, Nan !
Softer, mind when you repeat. Wake the echoes if you can.
Ready now and let it ring, Let us make this trio ring,-
One,-two,-three,-sing: One,-two,-three,-sing:

'Mary had a little lamb, Bah bah black sheep,
Mary had a little lamb, Got any wool?
Mary had a little I-a-a-mb, O yes! master,
It's fleece was white as snow, Three bags full:
And everywhere that Mary went, One for the master,
And everywhere that Mary went, One for the dame,
And everywhere that Mary we-ent, And one for the little boy
The lamb was sure to go." That cries in the lane."







284 WHAT THE STORK SAW. (MARCH,




WHAT THE STORK SAW.

BY HETTA LORD HAYES WARD.

T is a serious thing to be the ladies, walked there with bowed heads, and forgot,
-j.i- head of a family, said the stork for a little while, their crowns and kingdoms, their
mother, as she sat brooding over titles and brave attire, in thinking of the heavenly
Usher three yellow eggs in the big kingdom and the white robes of saints.
nest on the top of one of the tall The tired kitchen-maid and the poor beggar
chimneys of Strasburg. knelt in the light of the colored windows, as if on
It would be more serious if banks of heavenly flowers, and forgot hunger and
S there were no family. Some- thirst, pain and labor.
S thing may happen to the eggs, No wonder the white stork flew towards the cathe-
S after all," said the stork father, dral. On and on he sailed; then slowly swept in
as he stood on one leg and look- great circles above the tall spire, and, at last, drop-
'ed at his wife earnestly, ped gently down.
-- You must not speak of such The people came in crowds from the open doors.
a thing now, and don't stare at The stork raised his long neck, at last, and looked.
me so, dear. It distracts my I thought as much," said he; and slowly lifted
mind," said Mrs. Stork, settling himself on his great wings, and dropped down on a
herself more carefully over the eggs. neighboring roof, where he perched himself gravely
"Suppose," said the stork father, uneasily, "sup- on one leg, like a crippled soldier. One would
pose a storm should come and blow off the nest, or have thought him asleep, he stood so still; but,
suppose some one should tear it down; suppose the suddenly he gave a hop, flapped his wings, and
chimney should fall, or-or suppose the eggs should sailed away from the cathedral back towards the
prove addled! nest on the chimney.
"They certainly will, if you disturb me at this "You have been gone so long," said the stork
rate," interrupted the mother, mother, peevishly.
The stork father said nothing more, just then, "But I found a rat on my way home, my dear."
but changed his leg soberly, and looked at his wife That may be very well; but will it keep my
as before. legs from aching? Besides, you knew I wanted a
He was very tall, and had dark circles round his snake." Yet she rose from her nest and swallowed
eyes, and such a high forehead! You would have the rat, at.once.
known he was uncommonly wise, though he said Pray, don't get excited. Remember the chil-
nothing. dren's dispositions, my dear," said the stork father,
How can you have the heart to stand there soothingly, as he seated himself on the nest; I
stone-still, staring away, when you know I wish for saw something to-day."
some fresh meat? At home, before I was married, Saw something? That rat was really very
such toads and such snakes as we used to have! refreshing; and my legs feel much better after
O, if I only had a snake now said the mother; stretching them a little. I think I can sit down
and she snapped her beak as if she already tasted, again soon. You saw?"
one. I saw our Dr. Felix."
Don't think about it, dear. It will make your "That is nothing; he sits at the window, al-
stomach uneasy," said the stork father, soothingly. ways !"
" Perhaps I may find a rat somewhere." And he Is he there now? asked the stork father.
rose in the air, gave one great flap with his wings, "Why, no !" answered the mother, stretching
and sailed on over the roofs toward the cathedral her long neck and looking over the side of the nest
that rose tall and grand above the big and little down to a little window in the roof but he has
houses of the queer old city. not returned from the lectures."
It was still and cool inside the cathedral always. "Lectures !" said he. I have been to the
The beautiful round window in front caught the cathedral! "
white sunbeams without, and changed them to "You always go to the cathedral," said his wife,
strange, lovely colors, and then scattered them, reproachfully.
all the year round, like summer flowers, on the floor "It is elevating," answered the stork, gravely;
below. Kings and queens, nobles and grand "besides, I saw Felix, and he carried a rose."








X874.1 WHAT THE STORK SAW. 285


"A rose !" cried Mrs. Stork, eagerly. Where Something may happen," said she.
did he get it ? You are too anxious, altogether. Nothing can
That is the question," answered the stork happen, my dear; love is everlasting," said the
father, slowly, stork father, solemnly; and he looked at his wife,
"You are very provoking," said she; "you who was very still and modest, though she was
know I can't'leave the nest now; and I see so little sure the father had said something wise and sweet,
of the world at this season." And her brown eyes which she, as a wife, might well be proud of, if she
had a liquid look, and the circles under them grew chose.
darker than ever. "You may tell me more to-morrow; now I will
Don't, dear," said the stork father. One go back to the eggs and think about it," and she
never knows surely about such matters, so don't spread her great soft wings over the pale yellow
speak of it; but he followed the gardener's daugh- eggs in the nest.
ter. She came .fromthe. cathedral with basket on The stork father stood close by. It was quite





































THE STRASBURG HOME OF THE STORK FAMILY.
her arm, when the great clock struck twelve. There enough for him to look at the mother. In spite
was a pink kerchief around her throat, and the throat of his serious air he was very happy and con-
was white as a lotus flower. Her hair was yellow tented.
as the pyramid sands, but her eyes were blue as By and by Dr. Felix came home and looked from

"A vain, foolish thing, most likely. Poor Felix!" The mother covered the eggs with her warm
said the stork mother. feathers, while the stork father stood guard on one
A good child and pure. Happy Felix!" said the leg, with his head curved back to his wing. It was
wise sork father a pretty p-icture in the moonlight
-:-----

-7-r














7. a




j5





THE STRASBURG HOME OF THE STORK FAMILY.
her arm, when the great clock struck twelve. There enough for him to look at the mother. In spite
was apink kerchief aroundher throat, and the throat of his serious air he was very happy and con-
was white as a lotus flower. Her hair was yellow tented.
as the pyramid sands, but her eyes were blue as By and by Dr. Felix came home and looked from
the sea." his little window in the roof up toward the nest.
"A vain, foolish thing, most likely. Poor Felix !" The mother covered the eggs with her warm
said the stork mother, feathers, while the stork father stood guard on one
"A good child and pure. Happy Felix!" said the leg, with his head curved back to his wing. It was
wise stork father. a pretty picture in the moonlight.








286 WHAT THE STORK SAW. [MARCH,


One of these days I will have a nest," said Dr. two young storks stood one on each side of the
Felix. mother.
The days, grew warmer and longer in Strasburg. The cathedral rose dimly behind them. Dr.
The great cathedral stood in the yellow sunshine Felix, at his window below, looked out into the
like a golden stair climbing up to heaven; only, at soft- sunshine, with a very fresh pink rose in his
night, when the moon shone, the steps were silver button-hole. He always wore pink roses now.
instead of gold. One of these days,-one of these days," said
A whole month passed by, and one
day the mother said, Hark surely I
hear something under my wings."
The children !" gasped the father,
breathlessly; and when they looked,
two of the shells were broken. The
third egg was whole.
"No doubt it will hatch if I keep it
warm to-day," said Mr. Stork. I
"No," said the stork mother, de-
cidedly, "it is addled; I was sure it
would be that day with all your sup- r {
posing. One must never suppose in
hatching-time. It is addled, my dear; ..
it will never hatch." And it never
did, though the stork.father sat on the
nest one whole day. .
"It is not worth while to fret. Four '
make a very good family," said Mrs.
Stork, comfortingly, as she looked at .
the father and the two young ones;
" a very fine family, indeed, my dear, .
to be educated and provided for." .-
After that the old birds had a great c -
deal to do, as is always the way with THE FATHER-STORK AND THE LITTLE GIRL.
all good fathers and mothers.
Mr. Stork took long journeys for food, while the Dr. Felix, and he nodded to the old storks, gaily, as
stork mother taught her children beautifully at if he were telling them a secret, and the stork
home. At first she sang to them a lovely note, father and mother looked at each other and under-
"Breke-ke-kex-ko-ax ko-ax," over and over again, stood all about it.
just like the voice of the frogs in spring. She had It is old as the sphinx: love is everlasting,"
,eaten so many by the cataracts of the Nile, that it said the stork father. Then the mother and the
was easy to sing that tune. The song was very useful, stork children all nodded gravely. .
for, besides soothing the children, it taught them The summer grew warmer and warmer in Stras-
all the stork lore about frogs and snakes. When burg, and one day there were great clouds of smoke
they grew older, and their legs and morals needed and dust beyond the city.
training, they took gymnastics every day, and "We must be moving soon," said the father,
learned the ten plagues of Egypt by heart, giving "for the north wind begins to blow. The children
great attention to the second. are well grown and must see the world. See that
"They are a credit to you, mother," said Mr. they practice well to-day, my dear," and he raised
Stork, one day, proudly, "to say nothing of their himself slowly, poked forward his head, stretched
standing on one leg and their morals; only see his long red legs well out behind him, and flew
how red their stockings and beaks are growing." away beyond the city.
"They do very well at their gymnastics, con- His plan was to get a fine young snake for his
sidering their age," said Mrs. Stork, "only they children, but he searched a long time in the fields
must use their beaks less. Children should be before he found any. Once, after taking a few
seen and not heard. They will learn in time to turns in the air, he alighted close by a bright-eyed
give a stronger flap, more like their father's, my little girl. The little girl had her child in her arms,
dear," and the mother sat down on the nest while and the stork father, rejoicing that he understood
the stork father balanced himself, as usual, and the her feelings so well, tried to stand as politely before







1874.] WHAT THE STORK SAW. 287

her as Dr. Felix would have done. But the little "They are asleep," said she again, when the
mother, after looking at him shyly for an instant, stork father came home at night; so they both
hugged her doll with both arms and ran skipping stood and watched all through the darkness.
away. Such a long sleep said the stork mother in
That day the people ran up and down the streets the morning, and she stroked them with her smooth
with troubled faces; "The Prussians! we are be- red beak; but the young storks slept on quietly.
sieged they cried to each other. Then the father moved them with his foot, but they
Besieged! said the stork mother, sneeringly. never ruffled a feather.
"We have wings as well as legs, and can fly over They slept soundly, poor stork children. All
walls and guns," and she clapped with her beak that day, all the next day, the stork father and
like the snapping of a Frenchman's pistol. The mother stood motionless by the broken nest.
stork father said nothing, which was safe. He had That night Dr. Felix came for a moment to the
seen a great deal that day and did not care to talk. little window in the roof-he wore a uniform now-
"We will go to-morrow," said he the next morn- but the rose was blood-red and it drooped.
ing, as he flew away. To-morrow, remember! "What ails the storks ? said Dr. Felix, and he
and he was gone. climbed up over the roof and looked into the nest.
The stork mother sat on the nest while the two "Poor things! they must have been dead a long
young storks stood tall and straight beside her. time," and he took away the lifeless children and
She was very proud of them. Their red stockings buried them in the little court below, while the two
were clean, their great beaks sharp and long, their storks watched, hovering about the tall chimney.
breasts were round and snowy, their white wings, This is only the beginning-there will be worse
trimmed with black, were strong, and they flew with than this," said Dr. Felix.
a great flap like their father. Worse That very night deep thunders rolled
There was a strange rumbling and crackling and crashed when the sun went down, while heavy
around the city. walls and houses fell. Women and children shivered
"It is thunder," said the stork mother, and she in dark cellars underground, and even the great
at once began talking to the children to calm their cathedral trembled.
minds. When morning came the storks were gone. The
"To-morrow," said she, "to-morrow we will mother came back at night, flew around the tall
leave the old nest, fly over the cathedral and over chimney, alighted gravely at last, and looked long at
the walls of the city. Then we will join our bro- the empty nest, then rose slowly on her great wings
others and cousins, and fly together over the cold and sailed away -
mountains yonder, home-home to Egypt, the old Spring came again and with it the storks to
land of your fathers-the land of the great Nile. Strasburg. The old nest was gone, so was the tall
On its banks, among the tall reeds, we shall find chimney, and the pointed roof with its little win-
thousands of snakes and frogs--big fat frogs, long dow, and the face that had looked from it.
sweet snakes; and the stork mother stretched her The two storks stood on the chimney of a cottage
long neck forward, as if she were making room for near a garden. It was the garden of the dead,
one. "God's Acre." There were little children in the
"To-morrow," said she, "to-morrow," but she garden planting bright flowers on the graves.
said nothing more, for at that moment there came "He shall have the brightest," said the boy,
a sudden roar and rumble, with a sharp stinging "for he died fighting for Strasburg."
whiz, a line of fire ran through the air, and when "And she, too," said the girl, "for she loved
the dazed mother stork looked about her, the nest him, and she died."
was gone. It had fallen on the roof, and the two "Poor Felix! said the stork mother from the
tall children lay still beside its torn and ragged edge. roof of the cottage.
They are asleep," murmured the mother, and "Love is everlasting! Happy Felix I said the
she stood patiently and watched them all day long. stork father. And the stork was right.





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2S8 SOME COSSACK RIDERS. MARCI









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1874.] COSSACK HORSEMEN. 289



COSSACK HORSEMEN.

AMONG the Cossacks, a warlike tribe of Southern patient practice, and few persons become skillful
Russia, are found some of the finest horsemen in circus-riders without plenty of falls and hard
the world. From early youth most of the males bumps.
of this nation are accustomed to riding; so that But this riding is nothing to that of the Cossack,
in time, a seat in a saddle becomes as familiar to who springs to his feet on the saddle of his
them as a seat in a chair is to us. The feats horse, and then urges him at full speed over the
which are related of some of them, especially those rough roads and fields,-here, there, away in a
in the army, where expert horsemanship is more straight line, around in a circle, cracking his whip
highly appreciated than elsewhere, are marvelous, and waving his arms, while the horse gallops as
and they sometimes give daring exhibitions of their freely as though his master were firmly seated on his
skill in riding which quite put to shame the feats back with his feet in stirrups.
of horsemanship we see at the circus. In our per- It must be a splendid way to ride, especially
formances the trained horses gallop evenly around when several of these Cossacks are in the field to-
the smooth surface of a ring, covered with sawdust gether, dashing across each other's courses, racing
or tan-bark, and there is a riding-master with a and chasing and flying along with their heads so
long whip, whose duty it is to see that the horse high up in the air that they must feel almost like
never falters or swerves, but keeps steadily on at an birds on the wing.
even pace, while the rider performs his feats upon But it is to be feared that there is not an Ameri-
the back of the animal, frequently standing on a can boy in the land, let him try as hard as he may,
large flat board which takes the place of a saddle, who could ever learn to ride like that. At any rate,
Of course, it is by no means an easy thing to stand if there were one who thought he could do it, his
on such a board while a horse is galloping around mother would be to be pitied if she should happen
a ring, much less to turn somersaults and jump to be standing at the back-door where she could
through hoops; for these feats demand years of see him galloping, Cossack fashion, over the fields.






FAST FRIENDS.

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

CHAPTER VIII. That's just what I meant to avoid," said Jack;
"I 'm not going on this expedition for any selfish
GEOIRGE OPENS HIS HEART AND HIS TRUNK. purpose. I took all the money I could raise, so
"How do you expect to find your relations? as to be independent of my relations, if I should
You have no clue," said George. find them. I felt that I ought to hunt them up.
No," replied Jack, "but I must have been Think what grief and anxiety they must have suf-
advertised, and had a reward offered for me, when fered on my account,-lost in the streets of a great
Mother Hazard was taking me up the river. I city and never heard from! Besides, I wish to
mean to hunt through the newspapers of a dozen satisfy myself and know who my relations are.
or thirteen years ago, and if I find the advertise- Now think of my landing in New York without a
ment of a lost child with yellow curls, pink frock, shilling in my pocket! "
and so forth, I shall be pretty sure I am that child. Again Jack gave vent to his wrath against the
That's my business. Nothing else could have thieves who had robbed them. Then, turning
sent me away from so good a home at such a suddenly, he looked George full in the face.
time." "Come now tell me your plans."
"You '11 be better off than I, if you find your "Mine? Oh !-I-" George stammered and
relations," said George, almost enviously; "they'll blushed again.
give you money if you need it." "Yes. You've something in view. It's one of
VOL. I.-19.







1874.] COSSACK HORSEMEN. 289



COSSACK HORSEMEN.

AMONG the Cossacks, a warlike tribe of Southern patient practice, and few persons become skillful
Russia, are found some of the finest horsemen in circus-riders without plenty of falls and hard
the world. From early youth most of the males bumps.
of this nation are accustomed to riding; so that But this riding is nothing to that of the Cossack,
in time, a seat in a saddle becomes as familiar to who springs to his feet on the saddle of his
them as a seat in a chair is to us. The feats horse, and then urges him at full speed over the
which are related of some of them, especially those rough roads and fields,-here, there, away in a
in the army, where expert horsemanship is more straight line, around in a circle, cracking his whip
highly appreciated than elsewhere, are marvelous, and waving his arms, while the horse gallops as
and they sometimes give daring exhibitions of their freely as though his master were firmly seated on his
skill in riding which quite put to shame the feats back with his feet in stirrups.
of horsemanship we see at the circus. In our per- It must be a splendid way to ride, especially
formances the trained horses gallop evenly around when several of these Cossacks are in the field to-
the smooth surface of a ring, covered with sawdust gether, dashing across each other's courses, racing
or tan-bark, and there is a riding-master with a and chasing and flying along with their heads so
long whip, whose duty it is to see that the horse high up in the air that they must feel almost like
never falters or swerves, but keeps steadily on at an birds on the wing.
even pace, while the rider performs his feats upon But it is to be feared that there is not an Ameri-
the back of the animal, frequently standing on a can boy in the land, let him try as hard as he may,
large flat board which takes the place of a saddle, who could ever learn to ride like that. At any rate,
Of course, it is by no means an easy thing to stand if there were one who thought he could do it, his
on such a board while a horse is galloping around mother would be to be pitied if she should happen
a ring, much less to turn somersaults and jump to be standing at the back-door where she could
through hoops; for these feats demand years of see him galloping, Cossack fashion, over the fields.






FAST FRIENDS.

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

CHAPTER VIII. That's just what I meant to avoid," said Jack;
"I 'm not going on this expedition for any selfish
GEOIRGE OPENS HIS HEART AND HIS TRUNK. purpose. I took all the money I could raise, so
"How do you expect to find your relations? as to be independent of my relations, if I should
You have no clue," said George. find them. I felt that I ought to hunt them up.
No," replied Jack, "but I must have been Think what grief and anxiety they must have suf-
advertised, and had a reward offered for me, when fered on my account,-lost in the streets of a great
Mother Hazard was taking me up the river. I city and never heard from! Besides, I wish to
mean to hunt through the newspapers of a dozen satisfy myself and know who my relations are.
or thirteen years ago, and if I find the advertise- Now think of my landing in New York without a
ment of a lost child with yellow curls, pink frock, shilling in my pocket! "
and so forth, I shall be pretty sure I am that child. Again Jack gave vent to his wrath against the
That's my business. Nothing else could have thieves who had robbed them. Then, turning
sent me away from so good a home at such a suddenly, he looked George full in the face.
time." "Come now tell me your plans."
"You '11 be better off than I, if you find your "Mine? Oh !-I-" George stammered and
relations," said George, almost enviously; "they'll blushed again.
give you money if you need it." "Yes. You've something in view. It's one of
VOL. I.-19.







1874.] COSSACK HORSEMEN. 289



COSSACK HORSEMEN.

AMONG the Cossacks, a warlike tribe of Southern patient practice, and few persons become skillful
Russia, are found some of the finest horsemen in circus-riders without plenty of falls and hard
the world. From early youth most of the males bumps.
of this nation are accustomed to riding; so that But this riding is nothing to that of the Cossack,
in time, a seat in a saddle becomes as familiar to who springs to his feet on the saddle of his
them as a seat in a chair is to us. The feats horse, and then urges him at full speed over the
which are related of some of them, especially those rough roads and fields,-here, there, away in a
in the army, where expert horsemanship is more straight line, around in a circle, cracking his whip
highly appreciated than elsewhere, are marvelous, and waving his arms, while the horse gallops as
and they sometimes give daring exhibitions of their freely as though his master were firmly seated on his
skill in riding which quite put to shame the feats back with his feet in stirrups.
of horsemanship we see at the circus. In our per- It must be a splendid way to ride, especially
formances the trained horses gallop evenly around when several of these Cossacks are in the field to-
the smooth surface of a ring, covered with sawdust gether, dashing across each other's courses, racing
or tan-bark, and there is a riding-master with a and chasing and flying along with their heads so
long whip, whose duty it is to see that the horse high up in the air that they must feel almost like
never falters or swerves, but keeps steadily on at an birds on the wing.
even pace, while the rider performs his feats upon But it is to be feared that there is not an Ameri-
the back of the animal, frequently standing on a can boy in the land, let him try as hard as he may,
large flat board which takes the place of a saddle, who could ever learn to ride like that. At any rate,
Of course, it is by no means an easy thing to stand if there were one who thought he could do it, his
on such a board while a horse is galloping around mother would be to be pitied if she should happen
a ring, much less to turn somersaults and jump to be standing at the back-door where she could
through hoops; for these feats demand years of see him galloping, Cossack fashion, over the fields.






FAST FRIENDS.

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

CHAPTER VIII. That's just what I meant to avoid," said Jack;
"I 'm not going on this expedition for any selfish
GEOIRGE OPENS HIS HEART AND HIS TRUNK. purpose. I took all the money I could raise, so
"How do you expect to find your relations? as to be independent of my relations, if I should
You have no clue," said George. find them. I felt that I ought to hunt them up.
No," replied Jack, "but I must have been Think what grief and anxiety they must have suf-
advertised, and had a reward offered for me, when fered on my account,-lost in the streets of a great
Mother Hazard was taking me up the river. I city and never heard from! Besides, I wish to
mean to hunt through the newspapers of a dozen satisfy myself and know who my relations are.
or thirteen years ago, and if I find the advertise- Now think of my landing in New York without a
ment of a lost child with yellow curls, pink frock, shilling in my pocket! "
and so forth, I shall be pretty sure I am that child. Again Jack gave vent to his wrath against the
That's my business. Nothing else could have thieves who had robbed them. Then, turning
sent me away from so good a home at such a suddenly, he looked George full in the face.
time." "Come now tell me your plans."
"You '11 be better off than I, if you find your "Mine? Oh !-I-" George stammered and
relations," said George, almost enviously; "they'll blushed again.
give you money if you need it." "Yes. You've something in view. It's one of
VOL. I.-19.







290 FAST FRIENDS. [MARCH,

those things that float in the air," said Jack; I Show me some of those pieces! "
feel it. You needn't try to make me think you I had them cut out; they were in my pocket-
have n't some scheme you hope to put through." book. I wonder if the thieves will read them "
But it's so uncertain," hesitated George. said George. "I '11 get some of the pieces out of
"No matter. So is my business. So is almost my trunk, if you like," he proposed, encouraged
everything in this world. But don't tell me, if you by Jack's interest and sympathy.
don't want to. I thought perhaps you would like Jack accompanied his friend, to help him get at
to have me know of it, since we've got to work his trunk. A mass of manuscript was soon un-
together,-fast friends, you know." earthed from under a pile of books and shirts.
George drummed on the deck with his foot, and You won't want to read many of these now,"
cast down his eyes like a guilty wretch, as he said, said George. Here is Golboda: a Romance of
still blushing: the African Coast.' You might begin with that.
I 've,-got,-some,-poems,-in my trunk." It's in the style of the 'Lady of the Lake.' Then,
"Books?" queried Jack. here is 'Mo-da-wee-kah: an Indian Tale,' in ir-
N-o-o. Y-yes. I've got some books of poetry. regular metre, something like Byron's Siege of
You've seen some of. them. But I don't mean Corinth' and 'Parisina.' I have n't decided which
those. I mean verses,-manuscripts." I shall make the leading poem of my volume; I
"Copied?" said Jack. should like your opinion. Then, here are 'Fugi-
No." George gained courage and looked his tive Leaves,'-songs and ballads and fragments."
companion in the face, with trustful, deep blue "And did you write all these?" said Jack, won-
eyes, full of truth. Some I composed myself." deringly, as he turned the pages. "How could
"You! Apoet?" you ever do it?"
I hope so ; at any rate I make verses enough," "O, it's the easiest thing in the world. I com-
replied George, with a smile of singular sweetness, posed the whole of 'Mo-da.wee-kah' while plow-
and a certain inspired look, which gave Jack a ing our summer fallow, and wrote down, each
new insight into his character. night, before going to bed, the lines I had made
Jack was hugely astonished. There was some- during the day. I can't read a poem that I like,
thing about you,-I wondered what it was. I see but a burning desire seizes me to go and write
now! A poet! Why didn't I think of that ?" something in the same style. For that reason,
"Don't speak so loud," said George, in a low tone. I 'm afraid some of these pieces will sound like im-
"You must show me your poetry," Jack con- stations. For instance, here's a fragment,-' Isa-
tinued. bel,'-which reads so much like Coleridge's Chris-
"I will, some time." tabel,' that I shall be afraid to include it in the
"But what are you going to do with it in New volume."
York?" Jack read a little of "Golboda," and was sur-
I will tell you what I have never breathed to a prised to find the lines so smooth, and the rhymes
living soul! not even to Vinnie !" said George. so musical. But he couldn't keep his mind on it
"It's only a vague idea in my mind, and I think, very long; and, without suspecting that the fault
very likely, it will come to nothing; for I'm not -might be in the poem, he accused himself of being
a very big fool! I shall try to have my poetry over-anxious about their situation. Besides, a
printed in a volume." thought had suddenly struck him.
And get some money for it ?" It's good !" he said. "George, you are a
George was almost ashamed to own that his poet! It does sound like the 'Lady of the Lake,'
muse was so sordid; but even a poet must have -and I don't see but it's almost as good."
bread," he explained. George, who had been watching him with keen
But can you sell verses in that way ?" said Jack. anxiety, and had felt his heart sink at the reader's
"Won't you be obliged to wait till the book sells first symptoms of weariness and inattention, smiled
before you get'your money for it?" at this doubtful compliment.
"If I do," George, answered, I hope, in the "But, George, I've an idea "
meanwhile, to print in the newspapers something "What?" said George, with a nervous tremor.
I may get pay for. I know some writers are paid." You've got some things in your trunk, here,
Have you ever printed anything?" which you can shove up."
0, yes; pieces in the Vanguard, -our county "Shove up?" -George stared.
newspaper." "Yes," said Jack, confidently; "up the spout."
Jack looked with awe and admiration upon a The spout? What's that?"
young poet whose verses had actually seen the Don't you know? There are pawnbrokers'
light of print, shops in all large cities, where you can borrow







1874.] FAST FRIENDS. 291

money on anything,-from a key-bugle to a jack- Jack, wiping his forehead. But I've been mostly
knife; from a pocket Bible to a suit of clothes." out of practice since I left the canal. Last fall, I
I hadn't thought of that! And can you al- danced a little to Forrcst Felton's playing. Moses
ways get your things again ?" Chatford found it out, and, at noontimes, last
"Yes; by paying back the money, within a winter, I did a double-shuffle, once in a while, in
certain time, with interest. What else have you? the school-house entry. Lucky for us !"
What can you spare the best ?" George did not quite comprehend the force of
"I shall hate to part with my books!" said the remark.
George, "or my clothes, or-I don't know; per- Don't you see? There's money in it!" And,
haps I can shove up, as you call it, this flute, as to his friend's astonishment, Jack proceeded to un-
well as anything." fold his idea. "We can draw a crowd, easy
A flute Do you play the flute?" said Jack, enough We '11 go up on the passenger-deck, and
with joyful surprise. I'll dance to your playing, and then pass round
Yes, a little." the hat for pennies."
'Oh Forrest Felton plays the flute, and I I never could do it in the world !" said George,
have begun to learn. I wish you could keep that. abashed at the bare suggestion.
There's nothing like a little music to comfort a fel- But you must!" 'urged Jack. It's our only
low, when he gets lonesome. Can you play dan- chance. I don't fancy it any more than you do;
cing tunes?" but it will be evening by the time we reach New
George modestly confessed to some slight skill York, and we may be too late for the pawnbrokers'
of touch. Then, suddenly, Jack exclaimed, By shops, and to-morrow is Sunday, and any honest
gracious !" business is better than starvation or beggary."
"What now?" George inquired. But this is only a kind of beggary," George
"Another idea! Shut your trunk, and bring objected, while the sweat started out on his face at
along your flute, and I'll tell you !" the thought of making a public spectacle of him-
self.
CHAPTER IX. We have a good excuse for doing it," Jack
HEAD AND HEELS. argued. "I shall have the hardest part. And I'11
pass round the hat. Playing the flute won't be
GEORGE followed with some curiosity, while Jack bad."
led the way back to their favorite nook at the bow. George remembered that the poet Goldsmith
Now let me hear you play a few tunes." once gained the means of subsistence, on a foot
George, after some hesitation, blushingly put the journey through Germany and Switzerland, by
flute to his lips, and played Mrs. Macdonald, with playing the flute at the doors of peasants, who
much grace and sweetness. Encouragedby Jack's lodged and fed him for his music; and after much
applause, he then played the Copenhagen Waltz, bashful hesitation, he consented to Jack's plan.
and Fisher's Honzpipe. Jack was delighted; and, "We'll wait till after dinner," said Jack.
during the performance of the last piece, sprang to Passengers will be better-natured when they have
his feet, in a little open space of the deck, before been fed, and more inclined to give their pennies.
the capstan, threw himself into a jaunty attitude, Besides, they will begin to be tired of the boat
and began to dance, keeping perfect time to the later in the day, and want some amusement."
music, with his shoes, upon the smooth floor. A George, who would not have thought so far as
crowd was beginning to gather about them, when that, gave his companion credit for wonderful
Jack finished with a surprising flourish and shuffle sagacity.
and whirl, and tumbled himself down on the ropes They had a few crackers in their coat pockets,
by his friend's side. and of these they made a frugal repast, while
"That's complete!" exclaimed George, whose their fellow-passengers (except those who had like-
eye and ear had been charmed by the rhythmical wise brought provisions aboard), in answer to the
sound and movement of the dance. Where did steward's bell, thronged to the steamboat table.
you learn so much? As the two friends ate, they discussed the probable
"On the canal, when I was a little shaver. I success of their scheme, and arranged their pro-
used to amuse the boatmen and stable-keepers with gramme.
my dancing tricks. I learned them of the drivers," The day was fine and not too cool, though so
said Jack, a little out of breath, early in the season. The Catskill mountains were
I 've-seen drivers dance; but I never saw any- long since passed, and the celebrated scenery of
thing quite so neat!" his friend declared, the Hudson was growing a little monotonous, when
"I could do such things once, very well," said our two youthful adventurers, at just the right








292 FAST FRIENDS. [MARCH,


moment, made their appearance on the upper driver seemed to have come back upon him, and
deck. It was-thronged with passengers, occupying there was something almost saucyin his appearance.
stools and benches, or walking up and down. The end of the dance was greeted with a mur-
Jack found a clear space on one side, and said to mur of satisfaction, and Jack immediately passed
his friend, "This will do. Put your back against around his hat.
that pillar. Now, don't think of anything but Gentlemen," said he, "this is n't exactly our
me and the music." trade, but we're driven to it by necessity. We'
George's cheeks were a-fire with blushes, and had our pockets picked when we came aboard at
his heart was beating violently. It took him some Albany, as some of you noticed; and we're trying
time to gain confidence and breath to begin. He to raise a little money to pay for our supper and
was also greatly embarrassed by the conspicuous lodging."
shortness of his sleeves, as he put up his arms, The gentlemen, pretty generally, put their hands
holding the flute to his lips. He had never felt so into their pockets, and a good many .pennies, to-
awkward in his life. But resolution, which he did gether with a few small silver pieces, fell into Jack's
not lack, overcame self-distrust and bashfulness, hat. He did not confine himself to the ring, but,




























GEORGE WITH HIS FIFE, AND JACK WITH HIS HEELS
and he blew a few wildly sweet premonitory notes. breaking through it, gave everybody within sound
Then he struck into the Fisher's Hornpipe, while of the flute a chance to contribute.
Jack, standing near, nodded approvingly, and beat In the meanwhile George, finding the public at-
time with his finger. Then Jack began his part. tention directed from him, gained confidence, and
In a minute there was a ring of spectators played Sweet Home, and one or two tender Scotch
around the two performers, and a crowd pressing airs, with much beauty and feeling. What he
up from behind. On one side stood George, flute lacked in brilliancy of execution,-and he was by
to lips, his back against the pillar; and in the no means a brilliant player,-he more than made
midst was Jack, his head thrown back, now a little up in expression. He was surprised to find him-
on one side and now on the other, his face ani- self playing so well; his audience inspired him; a
mated, his hands on his hips, one of them holding feeling of triumph filled his heart.
his hat, his whole body lithe and agile, feet flying, In a little while, Jack returned, with a joyful
and heels and toes striking the floor with surprising countenance, and dropped at his friend's feet a
rapidity and precision. The old spirit of the canal hat well ballasted with clinking coin.
GEORGE WITH HIIS FIFE, AND JACK WITH HIS HEELS
and he blew a few wildly sweet premonitory notes. breaking through it, gave everybody within sound
Then he struck into the Fis/ze.'s -arnfiie, while of the flute a chance to contribute.
Jack, standing near, nodded approvingly, and beat In the meanwhile George, finding the public at-
time with his finger. Then Jack began his part. tention directed from him, gained confidence, and
In a minute there was a ring of spectators played Sweet Home, and one or two tender Scotch
around the two performers, and a crowd pressing airs, with much beauty and feeling. What he
up from behind. On one side stood George, flute lacked in brilliancy of execution,--and he was by
to lips, his back against the pillar; and in the no means a brilliant player,--he more than made
midst was Jack, his head thrown back, now a little up in expression. He was surprised to find him-
on one side and now on the other, his face ani- self playing so well; his audience inspired him; a
mated, his hands on his hips, one of them holding feeling of triumph filled his heart.
his hat, his whole body lithe and agile, feet flying, In a little while, Jack returned, with 'a joyful
and heels and toes striking the floor with surprising countenance, and dropped at his friend's feet a
rapidity and precision. The old spirit of the canal hat well ballasted with clinking coin..







1874.1 FAST FRIENDS. 293

"Now, my friends," said he, gaily, "if you will friended the two boys; and he now shook Jack
be so obliging as to stand back a little, and make cordially by the hand.
a larger ring, you can all see and hear just as well, I want to pay you back the money you lent us,
and others will be accommodated. Besides, some and thank you again for your kindness," said Jack,
of you are standing before the ladies, on those with grateful emotion. "We're in luck, you see."
benches; and I am sure you are too polite to wish "I see,-and glad I am !" said the old gentle-
to do that." man. "But never mind about the money just now.
George struck up a lively air, to which Jack You may need it, after all. You have n't got
danced a "double-shuffle," putting in his most through your troubles yet."
difficult and astonishing touches. By this time it And he firmly refused to receive back the loan.
had become noised around that these were the lads "I knew they were honest boys Jack heard
who had had their pockets picked, and the curios- him say, as again he passed on.
ity excited by their novel situation drew, perhaps,
quite as many spectators as the skill of the per- CHAPTER X.
formance. The next time Jack, with glowing face
MR. FITZ DINGLE'S GENEROUS OFFER.
and sparkling eyes, passed round the hat, he was
greeted with many a kind question and pleasant THIS will do for the present," Jack said, re-
joke, and, what was more to his purpose, a gener- turning to his friend. "We don't want to make
ous contribution of small coins. At the same time, nuisances of ourselves."
the remarks he heard about himself amused him. They withdrew from the crowd, and, returning
"That boy will make his way in the world !" to the nook in the bow, sat down to count their
Smart as lightning !" money. It was all in copper cents, York sixpences
If his head's as good as his heels, he '11 do!" and shillings (old-fashioned six and a-quarter and
A lady, dressed in black, seated on one of the twelve and a-half cent silver pieces, called four-
benches, dropped, with trembling fingers, a York pences and ninepences in New England), dimes
shilling into his hat, and questioned him, with and half-dimes, which, carefully counted, and
motherly eyes full of affectionate interest, placed in separate piles, were found to amount to
Did you never dance for money before ?" the snug little sum of four dollars and eighty
Jack felt that he could honestly say no, though cents.
he remembered that when he was a canal-driver Now, what do you say?" said the exultant
and danced for the boatmen, they sometimes tossed Jack. Two dollars and forty cents apiece Not
him a penny. a bad job, hey ? "
How much money did you lose by the pick- I never would have believed it !" exclaimed
pockets ? George, gleefully. It seems too good a joke I
I lost forty dollars, and my friend lost almost thought I should burst with laughter once, when
as much." I thought of it, in the middle of a tune! Did n't
And you are poor boys? you notice I almost broke down ? What would
That was all the money we had in the world." Vinnie say?"
The lady felt in her pocket, and dropped another And he shook with merriment, while he tried to
shilling into his hat. As she was plainly clad, and keep a sober face, and pulled down his coat-sleeves.
had not at all the air of a rich person, Jack remon- The boys were observed by two or three passen-
strated. gers and boat-hands; and presently they saw a
Don't give us anything because we are poor portly gentleman, in bright kid gloves and a white
boys," he said, blushingly. Though that is true waistcoat, with a hooked nose, a florid face, and a
enough, we are not beggars. We only ask pay for defect in his left eye, moving somewhat pompously
our entertainment, if anybody has been enter- toward them.
trained' Good pile, eh ?" he said in a hoarse bass voice,
I have n't half paid you for my entertainment," with a leer of pleasantry. Ha! ha pretty well!"
the lady replied, with a tender smile. "You in- He winked knowingly at them; and the boys
terest me. How long have you two been traveling noticed that the lids of the defective eye stuck
together ? together after the operation, remained so for a
Only two or three days. I fell in with him by second or two, then peeled slowly apart, and came
the way." open in a most comical fashion. Indeed, the man's
Have you parents ? Is your mother living?" whole appearance, with his red face, his leer, his
I'm alone in the world," was Jack's reply, as light kids and his white waistcoat,-out of season,
he passed on. and giving him an air of coarse gentility,-struck
Near by stood the old gentleman who had be- the boys as grotesque and absurd.








294 FAST FRIENDS. [MARCH,

"'We have several piles," replied Jack, coldly,- gant places of amusement in the metropolis. I've
for he did not greatly fancy the man's acquaint- the best bones in the country,-I don't hesitate to
ance. say in the whole world."
I see And you've got something better; did The best bones ? queried Jack, who could n't
ye know it? He winked again shrewdly, and see how this man's bones differed from those of any
added, while the comical eye was slowly coming other person possessing a sound constitution.
open as before, "You've got a fortune in your The best bones; the man who plays the bones,
heels -you understand; and certainly the best low
Have I?" said Jack, interested. "I did n't comedy tenor in New York; and now I want a
know it." person for the clog dance. It's just the place for
"I know it," replied the man. "And shall I you, young man. Good pay to begin with, and a
tell you how I know it? "
If you please," said Jack,
puzzled and curious.
"Because I've a profes- -- -- -
sional eye!" the man an- --- -- -
swered, with another extra- -
ordinary leer and wink. --
Jack had a mind to ask, -
"Which eye?" as if uncer- -- .
tain whether it was the twink- --- -
ler, or the one which hap- -
pened just then to be glued
up again; but he thought
he would not be saucy; so he
simply asked, What's that? i I.
I 'm professional," said the o ,- r
man. You understand !"
Indeed said Jack,
though he did n't understand .

Certainly," with a flourish o.
of the gloved hands, while the
white waistcoat swelled prb-
digiously. In the artistic
line. I could give you an
opening. I am proprietor of
a troupe." IT'S JUST THE PLACE FOR YOU, YOUNG MAN."
A troop of what? asked Jack, watching with fortune in your heels-as I said before-after I have
a sort of fascination the peeling open of the comical developed you into a great artist."
eye. Horses ? What do you call good pay? asked Jack.
Artists said the man, impressively. Two dollars a week is good pay at first. Here
Oh! Painters ?" said Jack, whose idea of an is my card."
artist was somewhat old-fashioned. As this sug- It was a bit of enameled pasteboard, on which
gestion was met by a violent leer and puffing of Jack read, in fancy letters, which seemed affectedly
the waistcoat, he added, What sort of artists ? fine, for the name of so coarse a man:
Well," said the man, strutting to and fro before
the boys, with his gloved thumbs hooked into the Lucius FITZ DINGLE,
arm-holes of his waistcoat,-" 'hem !-at the pres-
COLORED ARTIST TROUPE,
ent time,"-he paused, and turned his good eye
on Jack again-" to be plain,--nigger minstrels." BOWERY HALL.
Negroes ? said Jack; for the colored minstrel
business was rather a new thing in those days. What should I have to do ? inquired Jack.
"Not the genuine article,-ha, ha said the Black your face and hands, dress in character,
man, resuming his walk. "No Imitations. -plantation darkey,--dandified colored gemman,
Genuine art, if not the genuine article! and he -and dance three or four dances in the course of
laughed at his own joke. "One of the most ele- the evening. I warrant you a big success! And







1874.] FAST FRIENDS. 295

the good eye twinkled with professional delight at with a flourish of the kids, and a persuasive leer
anticipated' audiences, while the other struggled and wink, the professional gentleman stepped
vainly to get open. gracefully from the stage,-his bad eye having al-
Jack exchanged glances with George, who looked ready retired behind the curtain.
dismayed at the thought of parting with his friend; The boys laughed; and Jack, who had, during
then answered quietly and firmly: the scene, mechanically divided the little piles of
"Thank you, sir; I don't think I 'll black my face coin into two equal portions, now pushed one of
and sell my heels for two dollars a week, just now." them towards George, with one of Fitz Dingle's red
I'll say three dollars, if you'll engage for the tickets.
season," added Fitz Dingle. "You 're a mere boy, There 's your share," said he.
you know." "It's more than my share," George declared.
Jack still shook his head. "We should n't have a penny, if it had n't been
Very well; three dollars for the first week; for you."
then, if you like to stay, an increase of a quarter a "But half is yours; you remember our agree-
week." ment," Jack insisted.
But Jack had made up his mind. "Well, keep it all for the present, and pay ex-
"Well, come and see my show, anyway. You'll penses," said George, who hated to have anything
find it extremely popular and attractive. And bring to do with matters of money.
your friend." Carry all these coppers? They would tear my
So saying, he handed Jack a couple of red tick- pockets out !" said Jack.
ets, each bearing the inscription: Well, I '11 help you bear the load."
George took up the ticket and looked at it.
COMPLIMENTARY. Shall we go and see Fitz Dingle's elegant en-
FITZ DINGLE'S COLORED MINSTRELS. tertaiment?"
Some time-may be. And who knows," added
ADMIT ONE. Jack, "but I shall be glad to take up with his of-
fer? We 've already seen that when a fellow breaks
And, urging his "young friend" to think of it, down, a pair of heels aint bad to fall back on !"
(To be continued)








A, A EO: I


''v











A DANGEROUS EXPERIMENT.







296 ABOUT SOME QUEER LITTLE PEOPLE. [MARCH,




ABOUT SOME QUEER LITTLE PEOPLE.

BY DONALD G. MITCHELL.

A HUNDRED and fifty years ago, or thereabout, He says he must have. slept about nine hours,
while George the First was still King of Great Brit- and when he waked he felt stiff, and could n't'turn
ain, there was a story of some voyages printed in over. He tried to lift his arm, but he could n't.
England which everybody read with a great deal Presently he found out that there was a cord across
of wonder. his breast, and another across the middle of his
There never had been such voyages made be- body; and then he found that his legs were tied,
fore; there never had been such people seen as and his arms; and it seemed to him,-though he
this voyager had seen. could n't tell certainly,-that his hair was fastened
A man, who said his name was Richard Symp- to the ground. This was all strange enough; but
son, sent the story of these voyages to the printer it was stranger yet when he felt something walk
or publisher, and told him, and told the public, up over his left leg, and come on, across his body,
that he knew the man who wrote the story, and almost to his chin, so that by turning his eyes down,
that he was living in Nottinghamshire, in England, he could see a little fellow, about six inches high,
and that he was a friend of his, and connected with formed just like a man, with a bow and arrows in
him, on the mother's side. And, besides this, he his hand. One would have been enough; but
said that he was a truthful man, and that his neigh- when he felt forty more walking over his legs and
bors believed what he said. He knew the house arms, and pulling themselves up by his hair, he
in which he had lived, too, and knew who his father roared out,-as I think you and I would have done.
was,-which was not very strange, since he was At this, they all scampered; and some of them
connected with him, as I said, on the mother's side. hurt themselves badly by tumbling off his body,
The name of this voyager was Lemuel Gulliver; though this Mr. Gulliver did not know until some
and he was so much thought of among his neigh- time afterward. The poor voyager, who was thus
bors (Mr. Sympson said), that it came to be a pro- lying on his back, struggled a little, and so he
verb among them, when anyone told a thing that came to get his left arm loose, which was very lucky
was very, very true, to add-" It's as true as if for him, because these little people, who were much
Mr. Gulliver had said it." frightened, began to shoot arrows at him, and
Well, this Mr. Gulliver said he studied physic in would most certainly have put out his eyes, if he
Leyden, and married Mary Burton, who lived in had not covered them with his hand.
Newgate street, and that he got four hundred But, by little and little, he was able to look about
pounds in money by his wife. I don't see any him, and saw there were thousands and thousands
reason to doubt this. He went as surgeon on a of these queer small people in the fields around.
good many ships, but nothing happened to him Afterward, when he had made signs that he was
very extraordinary, until he sailed in May, 1699, in hungry and thirsty, they brought him food, a
the Antelope, for the South Seas. (I knew a ship, wagon load at a time, which he took up between
once, called the Antelope.) This Antelope was his thumb and finger; and their casks of wine,-no
commanded by Captain William Prichard; but bigger than a teacup,-he emptied in a way that
that does n't matter much, since Mr. Gulliver made them wonder. (Of course, if these people
does n't refer to Captain Prichard once again, were only six inches high, their wine-casks must
They had a very hard time of it, a good .many have been small in proportion; every one must see
of the sailors dying off, and on the 5th of Novem-' the truth of that.) But these little people had put
ber-a little while before Thanksgiving Day, in drugs in the wine, so that Mr. Gulliver slept very
New England-the ship drove on a rock, and split, soundly after it,-so soundly that he did n't know
Ships do so very often when they drive on rocks, at all when they brought an immense cart or truck
Six of the men got clear, with Gulliver, and (which they used for dragging vessels), and slung
rowed, until the wind upset the boat. The six men him upon it, and with fifteen hundred of the king's
were drowned; but Gulliver touched bottom, and horses drew him to town. There they chained him
walked a mile through the water, tillhe reached land. by one leg, near to the entrance of an immense
Then, being very tired, and, as he says, "Having temple, with a door four feet high-so that he was
taken half a pint of brandy aboard ship," he was able to crawl under cover when he awoke.
very sleepy, and lay down to doze. This, about the Of course, all the little people round about came
brandy, is, I dare say, not more than half true. to see Mr. Gulliver, whom they called "The Man-








1874-] ABOUT SOME QUEER LITTLE PEOPLE. 297

i-*------- ------ -----------7-- -, l


Y I
I, ,


























JI

























LILLIPUTIANS EXAMINING THE MAN-MOUNTAIN'S POSSESSIONS.
Mountain; and the king, who had a majestic deal of money out of Mr. Gulliver. Officers almost
figure, since he was taller by half an inch than any always make money out of somebody.
of his subjects, appointed officers to show the Man- He caught their language after a time, though
Mountain, and the officers in this way made a great they could n't have spoken louder than our crickets,
'' l liii' I l ll-l




K' '"I 'i" -




,i t iI, i

I ,












of,,- ::i hpsnir







298 ABOUT SOME QUEER LITTLE PEOPLE. [MARCH,

-if as loud. The name of this strange country voyages, and always had the luck to fall in with
was Lilliput; and Mr. Gulliver was introduced to most extraordinary people,--some of them being
all the distinguished people there,-at least he says ninety feet high; and he was for a considerable time
so,-and has a good deal to say about the queen in the waistcoat pocket of a farmer. Fortunately,
and the princesses, and how he amused them. he kept a journal, or else wrote out the account of
Travelers are apt to. He helped them, too, very his travels when they were fresh in his mind. But
much; and when a people living upon a neighbor- his friend, Mr. Sympson, did not print his travels
ing island called Blefuscu threatened war, and col- until a good many years after. When they were
elected a great fleet of vessels to attack the Lilli- printed, people in England were very much aston-
putians, Mr. Gulliver kindly waded over one morn- ished; and some curious ones went so far as to go
ing, and, tying a cord to all the ships' bows, drew down into Nottinghamshire to have an interview
them along after him, and gave them up to his with Mr. Gulliver. But, bless you, he was n't.
imperial majesty of Lilliput. He had to put on his there. He was n't anywhere, the Nottingham
spectacles, however, while he was in the water, to people said. And some went so far as to say there
keep the Blefuscudian soldiers-who were collected was no Mr. Sympson.
on the shores by thousands-from shooting out his Who then?
eyes. There can't be travels unless there's a traveler,-
The King of Lilliput was, of course, delighted that's certain. If Mr. Gulliver did n't bring away
with this service of Mr. Gulliver, and made him a those small cattle in his pocket from Blefuscu,-
prince on the spot; he. also thought it would be a which Capt. Biddel saw, and Capt. Biddel's mate
good thing if Mr. Gulliver should, some day, wade saw,-where did he bring them from ? or if Mr.
across again, and drag over the rest of the enemy's Gulliver did n't fetch them himself, who did ?
ships; but the Englishman did not think very well Everybody asked, and for a good while nobody
of this, and I suspect this difference led to a little knew. At last it all 'came out. There was no
coolness between him and the king. It is certain Gulliver, and there was no Sympson,-only Dean
that a good many of the high officers took up a Swift, a queer sort of Irish clergyman, who saw,
dislike of Mr. Gulliver, as well as some of the ladies in his own library, everything that Gulliver pro-
of the court. The long and the short of it was, fessed to have seen. And this Dean Swift was as
that he found himself out of place among the Lilli- strange a creature as any that Mr. Gulliver saw.
putians, and so went over afoot to the island of He was a child of English parents, though he was
Blefuscu, where he soon was on very good terms born in Ireland, and lived most all of his life in
with the emperor of that empire, though he had Ireland.
drawn away his ships. Sir William Temple had married a relative of
One day, however, Mr. Gulliver espied in the Swift's mother, and therefore he was befriended by
offing an English boat bottom side up, and by dint Sir William Temple, and through him came to
of wading and tugging, with the aid of several know a great many distinguished people of Eng-
Blefuscan men-of-war, he brought it to land. land,-the king among the rest. He had a uni-
There he repaired the boat, the emperor kindly versity education, and a powerful and acute mind,
consenting, and furnishing a few hundred mechanics and enormous ambition. These things would have
to aid him. Then he stocked the boat with pro- made him .a distinguished man, even if he had
visions, taking some live sheep and cattle, and set never known Sir William Temple and.never known
off homeward. He ran great danger of being the king.
wrecked; but, finally, fell in with an English mer- But he was an utterly selfish man, and though
chant vessel, Capt. John Biddel, commander, who he was admired by thousands, he was loved by very
kindly took him on board, and asked him how he few.
happened to be at sea in a yawl? That queer story of Gulliver, I have told you of,
Mr. Gulliver told him, and described the people was written by him,-not so much to amuse his
he had been with. Capt. Biddel did n't believe readers as to ridicule the people he had met about
him, and thought him crazy. Whereupon Mr. the court of England. He loved dearly to ridicule
Gulliver pulled some of the Blefuscan sheep and people whom he disliked; and I think he disliked
cattle out of his pocket, and showed them to him. nearly the whole human race.
Capt. Biddel could n't say anything more. Mr. He wanted to be a bishop; but Archbishop Sharp
Gulliver arrived home safely; found his wife well, told the queen that he was unfit to be a bishop;
and his boy Johnny (named after his uncle, who and I think Sharp was right.
had left him some land at Epping) at the grammar A man who is doing his best only when he is say-
school. ing (or writing) harsh, witty things of other people,
This same Mr. Gulliver made three or four more is not the man for bishop, or clergyman either.








1874. THE KINDERGARTEN CROW. 299

He loved (or professed to love) two accomplished broke down, and went out, at his death, in gloom
ladies. He married one of them privately, but and silence. He will always be remembered for
would not declare his marriage. Both of them died the great intellect he had, and for the pure English
broken-hearted before Dean Swift died. which he wrote; and always he will be remem-
Remorse, I think, overtook him afterward. He bered for the badness of his heart.
grew so petulant and irritable, that no one wanted If he were alive to-day, we might like to have
to live in the same house with him. Then came him make our dictionaries for us, or go to Wash-
moodiness and melancholy. For a year he said ington for us; but of a certainty-knowing him as
never a word to anyone. At last that great mind we do-we should never want him to preach Chris-
of his,-which was joined with no heart at all,- tianity for us, or to sit down with us at our firesides.
























THE KINDERGARTEN CROW.

BY CHARLES BARNARD.

NOBODY knew how it happened. Every morn- the scholars into the school-room and said that she
ing the floor of the school-house entry was wet, as had something to tell them. Of course, it must be
if some one had been carrying water in a very a story. Every one sat still and prepared to hear
leaky dipper. Nobody did it. Not one of the something very wonderful.
scholars could tell anything about it. There it And so it was-very wonderful indeed. The
was every morning. A wet place on the floor, teacher said she had a crow in the house! A crow!
Then something else happened. The tin dipper A real, live crow? Yes, a regular crow. What is
that hung by the water pitcher was found in the a crow? A bird. What color is he? Black, with
stove nearly melted away. At any rate, no one black eyes and a great beak. Did you ever see a
could ever drink a drop out of it again, crow ? Yes, in the woods, but never in the house.
Who did that? The teacher asked every one Sometimes they tame crows, but they are not
and nobody could tell anything about it, and really pleasant pets. Why not? Because they love to
it was all very strange indeed, pick up things, bits of thread, or a thimble, or
It was a Kindergarten School. A Kindergarten even a spoon, and anything else they can find.
School is the best place in the world. They How very queer What ever can a crow do with
have games there, and they tell stories about a spoon or a thimble ? No, a crow does not really
birds and trees and animals of every kind. Now, want the things he finds, but he always picks
the teacher in this school could tell the very them up and carries them away, and he hides them
primest kind of stories," and on the day the drink- in the top of a tree, or in some dark corner, where
ing dipper was found in the stove, she called all no one can find them; and as he cannot tell any-







300 MAMIE'S LECTURE. [MARCH,

one where they are, the things are lost. Crows that. Crows like to make trouble, and I think
always are likely to be at such mischief; and, in there really must be a black crow in the school-
fact, they make very unpleasant companions, house. I have not found him yet, but I expect
But what do they do so for? Nobody knows. every morning to see him hopping up the stairs,
It must be only for mischief and to make trouble, or to find him perched on the top of the door, and
Now, this crow I have is full of mischief, and I winking his black eyes at the scholars."
don't know what I shall do with him. To-day he Say, teacher. I guess I saw him."
stole the dipper and hid it in the stove." "You! Johnny! Did you see him ?"
Ho! ho! It is n't a real, truly real, crow! Johnny felt pretty badly, but he said he did n't
Say, teacher, now, it is n't a real crow ? Is it ? mean to do any harm, and he would n't do it again
"Well, I don't know," resumed the teacher. -no, never. And he did n't.
"It acts like a crow. Every day it spills water So they never found the crow in the Kinder-
in the entry-way. Nobody but a crow would do garten after all.

















----II--I








-'











MAMIE'S LECTURE.

ITTY dirl! what oo doin' in my papa's d'essin' seen, not heard. I '11 tell my mamma 'bout how
tase? Don't oo know it's well naughty for itty you went an' dot into my papa's d'essin' tase.
dirls to det into d'essin' tases? Itty children sood be Tissent no bizness for itty dirls. I 's'amed of oo!"








x874.] HOW THE SNOW CAME. 301




HOW THE SNOW CAME.

BY ANNIE R. ANNAN.

DAINTY sheets and spread all crumpled, "And hereby we give you warning,
Brown and yellow locks all rumpled,- You will find us by the morning
Boys, you know! In the dumps."
Bolster rolled up like a billow,-
Poppies smothered in a pillow Midnight only! What is ailing
Might look so. All the stars that they are paling
From the sight?
And the dim moon needs a snuffing;
One plump leg out for an airing, May be a great wind is puffing
Always heedless in its daring Out her light.
Where it goes;
Moonbeams through the frost-panes trickle, Ah! this snow-flake tells the story!
And with stealthy fingers tickle Now the spoiler of her glory
Five pink toes. Is confessed.
Thickly now the flakes are dropping,
What do sleepy poppies dream of? Like white doves that, never stopping,
Seek their nest.
Why, of course, they take the cream of Seek their nest
Day-time joys; Heigh-ho, laddies! leave your dreaming;
Things first thought of when they wake up,- Here 's a world with sunshine teeming,
Sleds, for instance, are what make up Waiting you.
Dreams of boys. All the pine trees have on mittens,
And the posts have milk-white kittens
Out of doors the trees, beseeching, On them, too;
All their naked arms are reaching And the pump, who looks half crazy,-
To the stars. Night-cap sidewise,-tips a lazy
"Cover us, dear snow, all over, "How d' ye do ?"
For we miss the warm sweet clover," Winter roses for your getting;
Pray the flowers. Fields of white for sower setting
Gleaming near,-
"Not a night-cap when we're freezing,- Oh, a fair new world of beauty !-
Bless us! we shall soon be sneezing," Preaching: Gladness is a duty
Cry the pumps; God holds dear.





THE LAST PIE.

BY ALICE CHADBOURNE.

"AUNT DELIA, do tell me some more about the little girls so long to grow !" Aunt Delia went
funny times you had when you were a little girl. on sewing. Pretty soon she looked up with a
You were always getting into such scrapes !" smile.
Scrapes !" repeated Aunt Delia, in a solemn "Did I ever tell you about my last pie, Annie?"
voice, but with laughing eyes. "How can you talk Your last pie? No, auntie. I knew there was
so? But, Puss, I believe you have had the whole something !"
story of my pranks (as you call them), big and "Well, when I was a child, I thought nobody
little, at least, half a dozen times." could make pumpkin pies equal to my mother's;
Oh, no, I hope not. I 'm sure there's one left. and, indeed, now I 'm a woman, I cannot say that I
You were always doing something; and it takes think very differently. Perhaps the pumpkins were








x874.] HOW THE SNOW CAME. 301




HOW THE SNOW CAME.

BY ANNIE R. ANNAN.

DAINTY sheets and spread all crumpled, "And hereby we give you warning,
Brown and yellow locks all rumpled,- You will find us by the morning
Boys, you know! In the dumps."
Bolster rolled up like a billow,-
Poppies smothered in a pillow Midnight only! What is ailing
Might look so. All the stars that they are paling
From the sight?
And the dim moon needs a snuffing;
One plump leg out for an airing, May be a great wind is puffing
Always heedless in its daring Out her light.
Where it goes;
Moonbeams through the frost-panes trickle, Ah! this snow-flake tells the story!
And with stealthy fingers tickle Now the spoiler of her glory
Five pink toes. Is confessed.
Thickly now the flakes are dropping,
What do sleepy poppies dream of? Like white doves that, never stopping,
Seek their nest.
Why, of course, they take the cream of Seek their nest
Day-time joys; Heigh-ho, laddies! leave your dreaming;
Things first thought of when they wake up,- Here 's a world with sunshine teeming,
Sleds, for instance, are what make up Waiting you.
Dreams of boys. All the pine trees have on mittens,
And the posts have milk-white kittens
Out of doors the trees, beseeching, On them, too;
All their naked arms are reaching And the pump, who looks half crazy,-
To the stars. Night-cap sidewise,-tips a lazy
"Cover us, dear snow, all over, "How d' ye do ?"
For we miss the warm sweet clover," Winter roses for your getting;
Pray the flowers. Fields of white for sower setting
Gleaming near,-
"Not a night-cap when we're freezing,- Oh, a fair new world of beauty !-
Bless us! we shall soon be sneezing," Preaching: Gladness is a duty
Cry the pumps; God holds dear.





THE LAST PIE.

BY ALICE CHADBOURNE.

"AUNT DELIA, do tell me some more about the little girls so long to grow !" Aunt Delia went
funny times you had when you were a little girl. on sewing. Pretty soon she looked up with a
You were always getting into such scrapes !" smile.
Scrapes !" repeated Aunt Delia, in a solemn "Did I ever tell you about my last pie, Annie?"
voice, but with laughing eyes. "How can you talk Your last pie? No, auntie. I knew there was
so? But, Puss, I believe you have had the whole something !"
story of my pranks (as you call them), big and "Well, when I was a child, I thought nobody
little, at least, half a dozen times." could make pumpkin pies equal to my mother's;
Oh, no, I hope not. I 'm sure there's one left. and, indeed, now I 'm a woman, I cannot say that I
You were always doing something; and it takes think very differently. Perhaps the pumpkins were







302 THE LAST PIE. [MARCH,

better in those days than they are now. Perhaps it and mother had n't seen him, either, for a long,
was that grand old brick oven. Perhaps it was my long time, and did n't know that he was alive. So,
mother's skillful fingers; or, it may have been all on the whole, it was almost as nice, for me, as I had
three together; but certain it is, try as hard as hoped. I called him 'uncle,' and learned to love
I may, I cannot make my pumpkin pies look or taste him very dearly after that; but the first day I felt
like your grandmother's. What a great store of a little shy with him, and, when mother went out
these dainties used to come out of that generous to get tea ready, I went, too.
oven! spicy and sweet, shining and golden; but "How mother's eyes shone that night, and how
we all were very fond of them, and though there briskly she stepped about! Dear mother every-
were always so many, they were sure to disappear body loved her, she was so bright and genial.
in a discouragingly short space of time. We put on the finest table-cloth, and mother
One day I happened to be alone in the kitchen, brought out the pretty china tea-set that father
just after the whole ovenful of pies had been put on brought home from sea. Then she made a rasp-
the table. All at once, I had an idea. I thought berry short-cake, because her cousin Sewall was
how glad mother always was when she had a nice always so fond of it.
lot of things baked up for us to eat, and how nice "'But the pumpkin pies are all gone, Delia,' she
it wouldbe, when she thought the pies were all gone, said, regretfully. 'I am so sorry! There never
if I could bring out one and put it on the supper- was anything Cousin Sewall enjoyed more, in the
table. I might do this if I could only hide one way of eating, than one of my pumpkin pies; and
away somewhere. But where could I put it, with- the last batch was unusually good. I wish he had
out mother's seeing it? At last I thought of a come a little earlier in the week.'
place,-a grand place, I fancied. 'Way up on the I did n't say a word, but I felt exultant enough,
highest shelf in the pantry, stood an old-fashioned I can assure you. How wise I had been I had
tin-baker, in which mother sometimes baked biscuit provided for this grand occasion, as well as if I had
for tea. She used it only once in a while; so there foreseen it And, when mother went into the
was n't much danger of her finding my pie there. sitting-room again, while the tea was drawing and
It was a difficult matter to mount up so high the cake was baking, I just got my chair and stool
with my savory treasure, and to do it without dis- and table and box, climbed up a second time,
cover; but I was quick of hand, and light of foot, .made my descent, pie in hand, without accident,
and with the aid of a chair, a tall stool, a table and 'and had the satisfaction of seeing it safely landed
a box, I succeeded. The delicious pie was safely on the tea-table, concealed from view by a clean
hidden away in the innocent-looking baker, and white napkin, for I did not wish the important
everything was in order again before mother came secret to be found out till the very last moment.
back to the kitchen, and began to carry the rest of "By this time it was pretty dark, and we were
the baking into the pantry. I helped, thinking, obliged. to eat by lamplight. I always liked to
gleefully, of the surprise in store for her. There were have the curtains drawn and the lamp lighted,
so many pies, she did not notice that one was gone. when we ate supper. It was cosier.
Some time after this, I came home from school "Cousin Sewall praised the tea and the short-
one afternoon, to meet a surprise, myself. Run- cake; said it tasted exactly as mother's short-cake
ning into the sitting-room to give mother a kiss, I used to taste when he was a boy, and mother told
found her sitting close to a strange gentleman on him how sorry she was that her pumpkin pies were
the sofa, and looking so overjoyed, I instantly made all gone, she knew he liked them so much.
up my mind that the visitor must be my uncle, who That was a triumphant moment for me. I
had gone away to sea, a good many years before, don't suppose I shall ever feel just the same again,
and had never been heard from since. I was a ro- if I live to be ever so old.
mantic little body then, and, though there had "' No, mother, there is one left,' I said, trying to
been no reasonable ground for hope, I had dreamed speak as if the matter were common-place enough,
so many extravagant dreams over my uncle but not succeeding. This is the last one!'
and his return, that I found it very easy to believe I should hope it was, if the rest of them were
I was looking at him now, and waited in breath- like that!' cried Tom, as I carefully lifted the nap-
less eagerness for my mother to tell me all about kin from my precious pie.
him. I did not wait long; but was greatly disap- Certainly I never wish to feel again just as I
pointed to find it was not Uncle Sewall, after all, did at that particular instant. There was the
though, oddly enough, it was my mother's cousin, pumpkin pie, to be sure, conspicuous on the dainty
who had lived in her home, and been just as- dear tea-table, but covered, every bit of it, with snow-
to her as Uncle Sewall himself. He had exactly white mould !
the same names, too, first and last, as her brother; 'That's frosting I don't like,' said Tom.







1874.1 HANS RYITZAR'S BREAKFAST. 303


'Why, Delia !' exclaimed mother, in astonish- be sober, out of pity to me, but it was impossible
ment, 'what does all this mean ?' not to laugh; and supper ended in a tempest of
"'I hid it away. I thought you would be so glad. glee, in which I, at last, joined with the rest.
I was in such a hurry, and it was so dark I did n't Cousin Sewall consolingly said that he would very
see it was spoiled. Oh, dear and dropping my cheerfully take the will for the deed; but he was a
head in an agony of shame and disappointment, I dear lover of fun; and, to the end of his days, I
burst into tears. never saw him without his asking after the welfare
"I believe they all, even teasing Tom, tried to of my last ie / "





HANS RYITZAR'S BREAKFAST.
(Translation of German Story in February Number.)

THERE was once a man whose name was Hans to an honest man, I will do it," said Hans, for I
Ryitzar. He was so absent-minded a man, that am very hungry."
he would ring at the door-bell of his own house and 'f I think the action will be strictly virtuous," said
ask if Mr. Ryitzar was at home; and he often did his friend; but you may not wish to perform it."
many other things equally ridiculous. Why not? asked Hans.
One day he was standing on the sidewalk, ear- Because you have not done so before," answered
nestly considering the subject of his breakfast, his friend. It is a very easy thing. All you have
Where was he to get anything to eat ? He was very to do is to put your hand into your coat-tail pocket
hungry, and he had not a cent in his pocket. He and pull out a big sausage which I see there, and
had started out in the morning for a long walk, which is, no doubt, accompanied by some bread,
and it was too far for him to go home now. for I notice the pocket is stuffed very full."
The more he thought of his unfortunate con- Hans looked up in amazement, and then he put
edition the more doleful he became; and he looked both hands to his pocket, and, with some trouble,
so miserable, that one of his friends, who was pass- pulled out a great sausage and half a loaf of brown
ing on the other side of the street, came over to bread.
ask him what was the matter. With one of these in each hand, he stood con-
Hans looked up and said, in a'mournful.voice: founded, while his friend went away, laughing
"I am hungry. I have no money, and it is too heartily.
far to go home for my breakfast. Is not that Hans now fell into another reverie, and while
enough to make me sad ?" wondering how all this could have happened, he en-
At that moment the friend caught sight of a big tirely forgot all about his breakfast until it was near
sausage sticking out of Hans' coat-tail pocket. evening. Then he thought he might as well go
"Oh said he, "I understand; you forgot to home and get a warm supper, instead of eating
bring any breakfast with you ? ". that cold bread and sausage, which he would give
Yes," said Hans; I knew I should be away to the dogs, a large number of which, attracted by
all day, but I never thought of breakfast." the food Hans had been holding in his hands so
"That's very bad," said his friend, who was a long, were now jumping and barking around
merry fellow, and I am sorry that I can't help him.
you, for I have no money with me." But he forgot to do this, and walked home with
Yes, that makes things worse," said Hans, the bread and sausage in his hands and all the dogs
thoughtfully. I suppose I shall be sick." following him.
There is only one thing that I can think of to When he reached his house, the supper-bell was
advise you to do," said his friend, ringing; but happening just then to look at the
"And what is that ? food that he carried in his hands, Hans forgot
Perhaps you will not like to do it," said the everything else in the world, and seating himself
other. on the door-step,, he ate every morsel of his sausage
If it is right and just, and will not bring shame and bread.
TRANSLATIONS OF FRENCH STORY IN JANUARYNUMBER,-"JOHN MARTIN'S SNOWBALL,"-were sent in by Bessie Maud McLean,
Nora A. Bradbury, Mary H. Stockwell, Elaine Goodale, Rachel Patterson Gregory, Gracie Hitchcock, Anna W. Olcott, Astley Atkins,
Ella Truesdell, Annie Mabel Harris, "Juanita," Hattie E. Angell, "St. Mark's," Thisbe Bronson, Irene Hooper, and Sallie W. Butler.
TRANSLATIONS OF GERMAN STORY IN FEBRUARY NUMBER were received from Ellis W. Hedges, Mary L. A. Price, and Walter Jordan.
Mary L. Bridgman sends a translation of "Half a Loaf is Better than No Bread,' in December Number.





304 FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS. IMARCI,

RED-TOP SEEING THE WORLD.
PEEP peep !" cried poor little Red-top. I ran away
from my mamma, and now I am lost-peep! p-e-e-p!
What shall I do ?
"And-peep, p-e-e-p !-a bad boy came at me with a
stick, to kill me all dead; and I had to squeeze through
SUCH a small hole in a fence! A brown toad lived there.
He tried to bite my nose off, but he could not find it--
peep, peep And-peep, peep!-a dog, who had a long
tail, made fun of mine. He said, Bow, wow, wow what
a tail! why, it 's no tail at all !'-peep, p-e-e-p !



w_ z.

", t, '









"Then I ran up here, where I can see the whole world.
Dear me, how big it is I am so cold, and I want to eat
a worm! My mamma knows how to scratch for them-I
don't. Oh! where is she ?-peep! Mamma, mam-ma-
peep Oh, if I could find her, I would never, NEVER run
away again-peep p-e-e-e-e-p! "






1874.1 FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS. 305

GOOD OLD SAM.
IN WORDS OF FOUR LETTERS.
"COME, dear
old Sam," said
Will, "you gave
me a fine trot
down the lane;
now I will give
you as much to
eat as you want.
Two big ears
went up in the
air at this; for
Sam was just as
fond of oats and
hay as you are
of cake and pie.
Then Mrs. Duck
ran to the pond
and said to Mr.
Duck,"Oh,what
a nice boy that
is Sam was
good to him,
and now he, in
his turn, is good
to Sam. I want
to be good too;
so I have come to' tell you, that if we run, we may be in time
to pick up all the nice bits that Sam lets fall."
Now just look at them all! Sam, Will, and Mr. and Mrs.
Duck! all kind and good! Will you try to be kind and
good too ? I am sure you will. It is the best way to live.
VOL. I.-20.








306 JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT. [MARCH,

sometimes measures forty feet around the edge.
l Think of that! He insisted that on the Malabar
f Ia, ,I.' coast, where storms are fierce and sudden, one may
v often see ten or fifteen men finding shelter in a
S '-'""" t, over which is spread a single palm leaf, that
- ,Fictually protects them all from wind and rain.
S.. : .- .-\ A!d when the storm is over, the precious leaf can
~b e folded up like a lady's fan, and is so light as to be
i-ly carried by a man under one arm. The tree

1,- .: 3 from eighty to a hundred years, but blossoms
".CL' T' t,'.:"-i-, reaches the height of two hundred feet. It
~ "- '/ --,r once during the whole period of its existence.
.' I flower, thirty feet in length, bursts at matu-
S' rai,, with a loud explosion that may be heard miles
S i" -'. y, and in dying scatters the seeds that are to
.. l .:''duce the next generation of trees. Jack don't
: :k you to believe this without looking into the
AC K IN T HE- PU PIT. n mAtter. The books do say that it is true, but the
SE best way is to go and measure this big flower for
yourselves; but you need n't bring it back for
MY DEAR FRIENDS AND FELLOW-CITIZENS: Jack to wear in his button-hole.
Delighted to see you. These March winds make
such a blustering time of it, starting as they always LEARN FROM BABY.
do right out of the middle of February, that I hardly JACK heard a very strong young farmer say one
can hear myself think. After all said and done, day that his baby brother had taught him a capital
March is a sort of rocket, that shoots into the year lesson,-that was to stretch himself often. Baby
with a whizzing, I am Spring and when you did it for some wise reason, he knew; so he had
kneel in the grass to look for her, you find only the followed the example. Stretching makes you grow,
dry stick. But, to business. What do you want to makes you supple and active, and is altogether a
hear about this time? All- sorts of things, eh? good thing. Follow the baby's plan, my dears;
Well, we 'll start off with stretch your arms, legs, neck and body for a few
moments, morning, noon and night, until further
BUTTER, FROM A CLASSICAL POINT OF VIEW. notice.
THE school-teacher says that the word butter is THEIRS BY RIGHT.
derived from the Greek, "buturon," which comes I GAVE a peacock a good talking to the other day
from "bous," a cow, and "turos," cheese; so, ac- for being so vain. But he made me understand
cording to him, "butter" is broken Greek for cow- that vanity was his principal merit. For," said he,
cheese. Like as not. I always did think there was "how in the world would we peacocks look if we
something Greece-y about butter. did n't strut? What kind of an air would our tail
feathers have if we did n't spread them ? I gave
TH GEOLOGIST AN THE FARMER. in. A meek peacock would be an absurdity.
THERE lately lived in England a judge, who also Vanity evidently was meant specially for peacocks.
was an enthusiastic geologist. His great delight,
when he was not obliged to preside at court, was CHARCOAL AND DIAMONDS.
to go into the country and dig for fossils ; petrified I KNOW a chimney swallow who has gone pretty
things, you must know, plants, shells and animals, deeply into things,-and what do you think? He
that, in the course of ages, have had such a hard says charcoal is carbon and diamonds are carbon,
time of it that they 've turned to stone. Well, one and that they're just the same, chemically Think
day, a farmer, who had once seen the judge presid- of it! ugly black charcoal and beautiful, flashing
ing at the bench (meaning in court), happened to diamonds! Inquire about this, please.
find him seated by the roadside on a heap of stones, TAKE IT BACK.
which he was busily breaking in search of fossils.
The farmer reined up his horse, gazed at him for SEE here I have been intending for some time
a minute, shook his head, and exclaimed, in ming- to set you young folks straight on the goose ques-
led tones of pity and surprise, What, Doctor be tion; "As silly as a goose," indeed !
you come to this already ? Why, a goose isn't a silly bird at all; not half so
Somebody to1.: this story in my hearing the other silly as your ostrich, who puts his head under his
day. A pretty good one, I think. If it is n't, wing, and then thinks nobody can see him.
it's old enough to know better. Geese are as sensible, steady-going birds as I'd
wish to see. Yes, and grateful, too; they like kind-
A VERY BIG LEAF AND FLOWER. ness as well as you do.
I SUPPOSE thousands of my young friends read in There 's a true story told in Germany, that
the December number of ST. NICHOLAS an account shows they can be depended on if they 're well
of the Talipat Palm. Well, a very knowing bird treated; and, I dare say, if feathered geese would
has been telling me some interesting facts about the stoop to writing their own autobiographies, we'd
Talipat. He says a single leaf of thiswonderful tree know of more such instances. Here is the story:







474.1 JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT. 307

An old, blind woman was led every Sunday to as bright as bright can be; the difference in the
church by a gander, which she had been in the size of the vase in the cold or in the heat is so very,
habit of feeding. Taking hold of her gown with its very small! But she will remember now not to
bill, it led her through the village and across the pour hot water into cold china or glass, or cold water
fields, into the church, and when she had seated into hot china or glass, unless (now this is the great
herself it retired to feed in the churchyard until secret the big brother told to little May) she first
service was over, when it led her home. puts into the vase, or whatever it may be, a silver
One day the clergyman called at her house, and spoon. The metal, he said, draws the first shock
during a conversation with her daughter expressed of the heat or cold to itself, and thus the glass will
his astonishment at her allowing her mother-so not be broken. Was he right?
old, blind and frail-to venture abroad. SOMETHING JACK HAS NOTICED.
"Oh, sir!" she exclaimed, "we are not afraid SOMEHING JACK HAS NTI
of trusting mother out of sight as long as the old As to that last paragram, I 've often noticed
gander is with her! something that the big brother did n't mention,
which is, that in cold weather little folk, and big
A NEW RIDDLE. folk too, are apt to huddle closer together (espe-
HERE is a new riddle from J. S. T. Who can cially in sleigh-riding times) and in warm weather
guess it ? they 're not so likely to do it. So I suppose it
I see with every man a thing would be safe to say of a crowd, that heat ex-
No man on earth has ever seen; pands it and cold contracts it. Don't take this for
Yet calm reflection still would bring an up-and-down scientific fact, my dears, until I've
It face to face with him-I ween had a talk with the owls about it.
'T would be before him plain as day, MEN-FASHIONS.
Yet not be what he saw, I say. Do you know that some of the most striking
LOOKING AND SEEING. fashions of the ladies were at first worn by gentle-
IT is n't everybody who looks at a thing that men? A raven friend of mine, who spent three
knows how to see it. A young fellow who lives years in a baron's library, and ought to know, says
near our meadow has traveled around the world. that muffs were originally carried by gentlemen;
He says he did it in six months, and saw everything also that hoops under the skirt were .first worn by
that there was to be seen. Dear me! Why, once them. He says the encyclopedias all say so.
a wise man said it would take him years to look Look it up, little girls. My friend Raven may be
thoroughly at a square foot of grass field. There mistaken, but I 'm afraid he is right.
are great odds in folks. Don't you think so, my A WISE LAW FOR JUDGES.
dears? Think about these two "lookers" and how HERE is a little story from history:
differently they did their seeing. One day the Abb6 of Muncy came and presented
THE REASON WHY. to Saint Louis, king of France, two magnificent
LITTLE MAY lives near our creek, and often she palfreys,-one for himself, the other for the queen.
comes down to the meadow to talk with her big When he had presented them he said to the king:
brother, when he's at work. He's a very knowing "Sire, I will come to-morrow to speak to yotf of
man, I can tell you, for the reason that he keeps my affairs."
his eyes and ears open when he's out of doors, and The next day the Abb6 came again, and the
when he is indoors he fills all his odd moments with king listened to him, attentively, a long time.
reading. When the Abb6 had gone away, Joinville, the
Well, May came crying to him, the other day, king's adviser, came to him and said:
to tell him how she had broken her mother's beau- Sire, with your permission, I would ask you if
tiful china vase. The vase was very cold, and May you have listened more graciously to the Abb6 of
poured hot water into it. The poor child could Muncy, because of the two palfreys he gave you
not see how so simple a thing should have broken yesterday ?"
the delicate china into pieces. He tried to explain The king reflected a long time, and then said:
to her how all the tiny particles of the china "In truth, yes."
had drawn closer together with the cold, while, Sire," said Joinville, do you know why I asked
if the vase had been standing by the fire they you this question?"
would have moved a little bit farther apart from "Why?" inquired the king.
each other; for cold contracts, while heat -ex- Because I would counsel you to forbid all your
pands. (This you littlest folk will read about in judges to receive gifts from those who must plead
your Natural Philosophy, some time.) Now I, before them, for it is certain if they accept gifts
being a Jack-in-the-Pulpit, could see that the vase they will listen more willingly and with more kind-
was ever so little smaller by standing in the cold, ness to those who bestow them, since even you
and that pouring in the hot water would make it have so listened to the Abbe of Muncy."
expand too quickly, or cause unequal expansion by On his return to Paris, the king made a law for-
the boiling water expanding the inner surface before bidding judges to receive any presents.
the outside had caught the idea, thus causing it to SPECIAL DESPATCH.
break. But May, being only a little girl, did not I FORGOT to mention a inoment ago that the an-
have eyes sharp enough to see this, though they are swer to that new riddle is (whisper) : i, own face.








308 THE LETTER BOX. [MARCH,




THE LETTER BOX.

ALEXANDRIA, VA., January 17, 1874. very interesting to them if they live to be men, and keep
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little boy only eight it written up faithfully, especially if they always put
years old; but I think I must write and tell you how downwhat they "think about the book as well as its title."
much I am pleased with you. I wish you would come They are right. Many a grown person, now-a-days,
every week. My sister and I had to laugh about Bertie would be glad to have such a record of his or her read-
pulling the cat's tail. And then about the boys making ing. We hope that many of our girls and boys will fol-
a pond in the garret. I like that story ever so much;- low Tom and Clarke's example, and that they will, every
it is real funny to see the water running down on the Christmas, send ST. NICHOLAS a copy of their year's
baby's head. Is it true about the Brighton cats? We list. ST. NICHOLAS has a particular reason for making
have a nice big cat, named Tom. I wish I could send this suggestion.
you his likeness to put in ST. NICHOLAS, so that all the MINNIE L. G. says that she has made ninety-seven
boys and girls could see how pretty he is. nouns out of the letters of the word ILLUSTRA-
From your friend, OHE. TION," and asks the boys and girls of ST. NICHOLAS
to try what they can do.
Very glad to hear from you, Harry; and from E. M.
W., Georgie M. R., W. C. F., "Busy Bee," NoraA. B., WILLIAM G. H.-If you wish to cut India rubber for
and all the other friends, young and old, who have the little machine you are making, you will find it is very
written to us about ST. NICHOLAS. Yes, Harry, the easily done if you wet your knife-blade.
Brighton cats are really alive; and they stood for their
portraits just'as you see them in ST. NICHOLAS. J. R. KNox.-Common proverbs have frequently
been set in very humorous rhymes. Those you send us
ELAINE'S mother sends a poem from her little girl, are good, but we think you can make them better.
who, she says, is "barely ten years old." It opens Suppose you try. As an example of what can be done in
with this verse : this line, we give the following from London Punch.:
"How enchanting 't is to ride Observe yon plumed biped fine!
With my mother by my side, To effect his captivaton,
Underneath the evening skies of June, Deposit particles saline
Shining with a myriad stars,- Upon his termination."
Silvery Saturn, glowing Mars,-
And the gleaming,-golden gleaming of the moon, "Cryptogamous concretion never grows
How it puts my heart and voice in tune!" On mineral fragments that decline repose."
Dear little Elaine! don't write verses yet, cleverly as The earliest winged songster soonest sees
you do them for one of your age. There is time enough And first appropriates the annelides."
for that. Put your "heart and voice in tune," dear, TIMOTHY P. writes to ST. NICHOLAS: I find in the
by frolicking in the open air; by enjoying your dolls LeteBoof the last volumof O Young s, p. 38
and playmates, and by being a sweet, merry, goodlittle this editorial reply to M. Caro Whittemore:
girl,-and not by leaning over your desk writing verses.
You'll be all the better poet for it by and by. "The authorship of the line, 'Though lost to sight,
to memory dear,' is not known."
CLARA HANNUM writes: Is it correct to call the Now, it occurs to me that M. Caro Whittemore may
spectators of a pantomime the audience? be a reader of ST. NICHOLAS and may still desire to
We think it is not. Although an assembly of persons have her question answered. To the best of my knowl-
drawn together to enjoy any public amusement is com- edge and belief, the oft-quoted line alluded to originated
only called an audience, there is no authority for such with Ruthven Jenkyns, and was first published in the
a use of the word when the performance is to be seen Greenwich Magazinefor Marines in 1701 or 1702. The
and not heard, as in the case of a pantomime The Machias Republican (1873) asserts this as a fact, and
word audience (from the Latin, audio, to hear) implies quotes Jenkyns' entire poem, as follows:
that those who compose it have assembled to hear some- Sweetheart, good by! the fluttering sail
thing. If they attend merely to look on, they are spec- Is spread to waft me far from thee,
tators. And soon, before the fav'ring gale,
My ship shall bound upon the sea.
Perchance, alt desolate and forlorn,
ELLA MARVIN.-The editor cannot give you the in- These eyes shall miss thee many a year;
formation you ask for concerning the authorship of the But unforgotten in every charm-
Saxe Holm stories. Though lost to sight, to memory dear.
HENRY T. W.-Yes, if you assume the part of a mon- Sweetheart, good by one last embrace l
0, cruel fate two souls to sever;
itor in your school, under the teacher's orders, and with Yet in this heart's most sacred place
the full knowledge of your schoolmates, you should do Thou, thou alone shalt dwell forever.
your duty and report "even your best friend," if he And still shall recollection trace
break the rules. But ST. NICHOLAS feels sorry for In fancy's miror, ever near,
bEach smile, each tear, that frown, that face-
you and for every right-minded boy or girl who is ever Though lost to sight, to mem'ry dear.
put in such an unpleasant position.
put in such an unpleasant position. Many thanks, Mr Timothy; but who originated the
TOM AND CLARKE McE. (brothers) write that they Greenwich Magazine for Marines ?
have resolved to keep a careful list of all the books they
read through. Fortunately, as they are very young they HELEN E. S. writes: I lately had occasion to "hunt
can remember at least the names of those they have up "'some facts for a composition; and, as the other
finished up to this date. They think the list will be girls in our class were very much interested in them, I









X874.] THE LETTER BOX. 309


take them out of my composition again and offer them But in that dark and early time
to the readers of ST. NICHOLAS. The children of that distant clime
Nearly all Yankee boys and girls, I suppose, know Nor Hd nne er eteicious taste
that in France the people say: Comment voles portez- Of milk condensed,-a modern waste,-
vouls?" for, "How do you do?" and that this means, So dear to childish hearts and lips,
word for word, How do you carry yourself?" That now the child of luxury sips:
But they had bread condensed.
The Germans, when they wish to be very polite, use
the third person plural, and for How do you do ?" they Then took the loaf the noble dame;
ask, "How do they find themselves?" The Dutch, The children crowded round to claim,
who think much of good eating, often on meeting an ac- With eager looks, their share.
quaintance say, How do you fare ?" She seized the knife with which her sire
Had made so many brave expire,
The Swedes say, "How can you ?" which must make Then brandished it above her head,
people blush who have been guilty of bad deeds. The And cut in halves the tempting bread
Poles have several ways of greeting a friend. Some- With firm, determined air.
times they ask, "Art thou gay?" "How hast thou thy- But instantly, how sad to tell,
self?" The Russians, too, are not confined to one form, The half upon the carpet fell,
and often say, "How do you live on ?" And from his corner near the flame,
The Persians,. Arabs and Turks use very polite The hungry dog, who watched the dame
Meanwhile with anxious eyes,
phrases; and the Persians will ask, "Is thy exalted Spr ag out and seized it in his jaws,
high condition good? May thy shadow never be And trotted off on stealthy paws
less." The Arabs say, "May your morning be good." Amid the children's cries.
In Egypt, they say, "How goes the perspiration?' For say,-what hungry set would want to
Have such a dog as Athelponto
Two COUNTRY GIRLS" want ST. NICHOLAS to Before their very faces steal
offer dolls for premiums,-elegant dolls, with full outfits, A portion of their 'favorite meal ?
beautiful dresses, furs, bonnets, parasols, fans, lockets, F An outrage, to be sure.
Fearing to see her bread no more,
bridal costume, and everything perfect. Thousands The dame slipped quickly to the door,
of little girls would try for it," they add. That might And at the dog, with rage inflamed,
be. But we should be very sorry to see the publishers She threw the portion that remained,
of ST. NICHOLAS doing such a shocking-we were going His wicked fault to cure.
to say wicked--thing as to send out to our little girls Then Athelponto turned his head,
any of these horrid puppets in full dress, that are now- And dropped from out his mouth the bread,
a-days sold in the fashionable shops as dolls. Dolls While uttering plaintive howls.
they may be, but not doll-babies; not something to And at that moment chanced to pass
Along the road an idle ass.
love and fondle and take care of in true mother style, or His greedy eye the bread espies;
even to punish and subdue as naughty little Mary He quickly gobbles up the prize,
Anns or willful Sabina Janes, when occasion demands. In spite of cries and scowls.
No real, motherly, doll-loving little girls-unless their Unto the house the dog returns
heads are turned by the folly of their elders-wish to His guilty conscience pricks and bums.
have for their doll-baby a stiff little figure of a full- He, with his tail between his legs,
dressed fashionable lady, flounced and curled, with per- The pardon of his mistress begs.
fume on her little real lace pocket handkerchief and a She sees her chldre ns frowns and tears
miniature eye-glass dangling from her absurd little belt. Their disappointed sobs she hears.
Now, do they ? We have seen such dollies borne stark Alas my dears," the duchess said,
and stiff in the arms of misguided little girls; but we "The wretch has stolen all our bread,
And nothing left have we!
think it always a pitiful sight.
But still console yourselves, my dears,
HALF A LOAF IS BETTER THAN NO BREAD. -And cease your sobs and dry your tears,
Though we have nothing left.
(A metrical translation of the French story in the December For had I kept the other part,-
Number of ST. NICHOLAs.) Although to lose it breaks your heart,-
I could not then have thrown it on to
B LC B The head of wicked Athelponto
BY Lucy C. BULL. To punish thus his theft.

BUT few young people of our day "For surely, dears, you all must own
The true source of this proverb know The half is better far than none!"
Which I will tell in verse below,- "Oh, yes, mamma, we truly feel
'T was full seven hundred years ago. Quite glad to go without our meal
Now list to what I say: For such a righteous cause."
What children, in this later day,
In ancient and heroic days Who read my words, can safely say
There lived the subject of my praise, That they their case would sacrifice
A duchess,-noble, pure and bland, To truth and principle so wise
The wisest lady in the land,- Without parental laws?
Fair Caroline Van Swing.
Four noble children clustered round The saying of the duchess grand-
Her parent knee, sedate and fond, From year to year, from land to land
A hungry little ring. Has passed; but changed the sense.
So, to the castle kitchen large, The world is not so brave and good
The noble mother led her charge; As in the days of noble blood,
And she, herself, the duchess grand, The days of Caroline Van Swing,
Prepared the meal with her own hand. The noble dame of whom I sing,-
For oft she said, with sense: A dame without pretence.
SI am a duchess, it is true,
But am I not a mother, too ?" The above is by a girl only twelve years old; and although we are
To which the four, by hunger pressed, not in favor of urging children into the literary field, still when we
Impatient, crowding round, distressed, ask merely for prose translations and get such a remarkably good
Respond with eloquence, poetical one from a little girl, we can but print it.








310 BOOKS AND MUSIC. [MARCH,



BOOKS AND MUSIC.

BOOKS RECEIVED. Work and Reward, by Mrs. Holt. Published by
Nat. Temp. Pub. Society, City; also, from the same
From Jas. R. Osgood & Co. Doing His Best, by house, Zoa Rodman, by Mrs. E. J. Richardson.
Trowbridge; and Lucy Maria, by Mrs. A. M. Diaz.
From Scribner, Armstrong & Company, New York. MUSIC RECEIVED.
Saxe Holm's Stories; Diamonds and Precious Stones, a MUI VD.
Popular Account of Gems, translated from the.French S. T. Gordon & Son send the following pieces of
of Louis Dieulafait by Fanchon Sanford, with 126 new music, all extremely simple, effective and suitable
illustrations; From the Earth to the Moon, and a Trip for young players. A Collection of Standard Gems,
Round it, from the French of Jules Verne; My Kalulu, simplified for Piano-forte, without octaves, by Henry
by Henry M. Stanley. Maylath; Amaryllis, Air du Roi Louis XIII.; Heim-
From the Am. Tract Society, New York City. Very wth (Jungmann); Vienna Bloods Waltz (Strauss);
Little Tales and Four Cousins, both by S. Annie Frost; Pique dame Gallop (Suppi); Hunyady Laszio, Hun-
also, Little Margery, by Mrs. H. M. Miller; and The garian March (Erkel); The Happy Children, Six Easy
Hard Problem. Dances for Piano-forte, Valse, Polka, Polka-Mazurka,
The Magic Spectacles, from E. H. Swinney, New Tyrolienne, Galop, Schottische, by Jos. Rummel; A
York. Collection of Standard Marches, arranged for the Piano
Seven Historic Ages, by Arthur Gilman. Hurd & in an easy style and without octaves, including Men-
Houghton. delssohn's Wedding March, Meyerbeer's Coronation
Aunt o's Scrap-Bay, by Louisa M. Alcott. Roberts March, and March from Tannhaiiser; also, Spring,
Bros., Boston. Gentle Spring, Waltz, the twenty-first of a Collection
Young People's History of Maine, by George J. Var- of Popular Pieces for the Piano-forte (Friendship's Gift)
ney. Dresser, McLellan & Co., Portland, Maine. simplified by E. Mack.'




THE RIDDLE BOX.

A RIDDLE. WORD SQUARE.
I 'M green and still, and take my ease AH thou wert deemed myfirst, Cassandra, fair,
In thickest shadows lying; When with dishevelled hair,
I'm fixed as fate, and yet a breeze In dark habiliments of woe attired,
Will always set me flying. And by my next inspired,
Thou didst, in vain, to Troy reiterate
I'm deep as ocean; dark as sin; Her swift impending fate.
I 'm treacherous and gloomy; No prouder walls than hers henceforth shall rise
And still so airy, light and thin, 'Neath oriental skies;
A body can see through me. No citizens more true in act and word,
I'm made of silk ; I 'm lined with grass; No royal race my third.
It is my pleasant duty Troy was; her towering walls of massive stone
To wait on many a laughing lass, All into dust have gone,
Tond press the cheek of beauty. Since too secure, wise admonition scorning,
SOPHIE MAY. She heeded not thy warning.
'T is ever so with prophet, sybil, seer,
Mere scoff and jeer;
LITERARY ELLIPSES. Call mad, my fourth, and oft the life-blood spill
(Blanks to be filled by English authors.) Of messengers of ill.
So when myfifth, assailed by Coesar's hosts,
I. Her lofty rampart boasts;
A LITTLE child, -- and full of grace, Or when my sixth, a cruel tawny race,
Threw back her and showed her smiling face; Dared Rodger's guns to face!
Meek as the she by a ribbon led, HITTY MAGINN.
As o'er the in the dawn see fled
Fleet as the when to the the NUMERICAL ENIGMA.
Called, and the sportsman not at morn ; I AM composed of 32 letters :
Against her more than paltry gold, My 15, 4, 12, 5, 16, 25, is a young animal.
I could not my heart, however cold. My 29, 32, 14, 20, and my 17, lo, 2, 3, 9, are animals,
the fur of which is quite valuable.
II. My 6, 32, 18, 27, 7, 25, is sometimes considered a
You need not my inquiring friend, locality and sometimes a condition of being.
If, asking me if I am on the mend, My 23, I, II, 19, 20, 7, is a very useful stone.
You find me still in no frame; My 31, 3, 22, 21, 13, is dismal.
Upon an lay all the blame; My 24,5, is a pronoun.
And though it may not seem, to mope, My 31, 28, 26, is a vehicle.
I could not my pain to please the -- My 17, 8, 30, 31, is coarse woolen cloth.
J. P. B. My whole is a recipe for good looks. A. N.








i874.] THE RIDDLE BOX. 311

REBUS No. 1. ENIGMA.
I AM a word of nine letters, of which my I and 2
form a portion of each of the zones; my 2 and 3 are the
S. beginning of order; my 3 and 4 are half of a sort of
bread; my 3, 4 and 5 are three-quarters of a road; my
-3, 4, 5, 6 and 7 make a duty that generally devolves on
the cook; my 4 is an exclamation of surprise or pain;
my 5 an article in frequent use by people who do not
-_ __ know exactly what they desire; my 5 and 6 make an
adverb denoting similitude; my 6, 7 and 8 are the
S- S.-"- beginning of every act of dishonesty; my 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9
mean a star, and also a beautiful winter flower that was
s, first brought to our country from China. The same
letters are also five-eighths of the Greek name given to
.the planets between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter.
S' My 9,8, 6 and 7 give relief to the traveler, and my 7, 8,
5, 3 and 6 to the sorrowful; my 3, 5, I and 8 mean to
1> destroy; my 3, 2,4 and 7 make a part of every tree and
plant; my 4, 5 and 3 an article useful to sailors and
fishermen; my 3, 5, 7 and 6, the housekeeper's pest;
my 2, 5, 7 and 6, a kind of grain highly esteemed in
S Scotland; my 6, 8, 5 and 9 mean to burn; my 5, 7 and
S- 8 express what you did with your dinner last Christmas;
-m: .y 5, 3 and 8 denote existence; my 8, 5 and 3 make
S- --something that belongs to you, though you never saw it
i n your life, that you could not sell for a farthing, yet
S-- would not part with for a million; and my whole is the
name of one famous in Persian history. F. R. F.
S -CROSS WORD.
S' :---: MY first is in sugar, but not in sweet;
My next is in counterpane, not in sheet;
My third is in me, but not in you;
ANAGRAIMMATIC ELLIPSES. My fourth is in green, but not in blue;
(Fill the blanks with the same words, transosed.) My fifth is in barter, but not in sell;
My sixth is in scream, but not in yell;
I. He looked of the church, and My seventh is in hat, but not in cap;
saw persons bowed in -. My eighth is in sleep, but not in nap;
2. in sowing, make in reaping. My whole is said to have the power
3. A person learning to care not to fall. Of turning all it touches sour. A. S.
4. The set the gem of gold.
j4. It me to see the dignity she will sometimes OUR CHRISTMAS DINNER.
THE first course consisted of a linden tree and some
6. She will let no unkind word from her poles; the second of a red-hot bar of iron, a thin wife, a
7. She carefully and sews a country of Europe, and an ornament used by Roman
8. Such a of criticism from parishioners I 'm ladies, accompanied by a vegetable carefully prepared as
sure stand. J. P. B. follows: One-sixth of a carrot, one-fourth of a bean,
two-sevenths of a lettuce, and one-third of a cherry.
CHARADE. We had for dessert a pudding made of the interment of
MY first you Will certainly find on the farm, a tailor's instrument, some points of time events, and
If the crops have been good this year; small cannon shot from Hamburg. GRACE.
My second you sometimes will find in the brooks,
When the season is cold and drear; BURIED POETS.
My whole by the builder is carried aloft, I. AT Stockholm espionage is not practiced.
By the architect skillfully planned, 2. Along the Po peacocks were strutting.
For the mansion, the court-house or palace, perhaps, 3. On the way from Moscow perished the greater part
An ornament graceful or grand. JAN. of Napoleon's army..
4. Give me my pencils, pens, eraser and scissors.
DOUBLE ACROSTIC. 5. A single sou they had not.
6. He is not wayward.
FOUNDATION WORDS: 7. A crab being hungry ate up a snail. M. H. G.
THE father of the Pleiades.
An admirable musician. REBUS No. 2.
CROSS WORDS:
A town of Thrace. ,)
One of Helen's suitors.
The priests of Pan. _r '
Presides over the Muses.- 22
A terrestrial god.
LORAIN LINCOLN.








312 THE RIDDLE BOX. [MARCH,



PICTORIAL WORD PUZZLE.



ISCRI"NERAC *IlJ















I IA






.I IN E R i_ '





















REBUS No. .-Smoke-Stack. REBUS No. 3.-" Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a
CHESS PUZZLE.-Commence at the left-hand corner at the bottom cage."
of the page at "hail"-then tracing the syllables as a knight would THREE EASY CHARADEs.-Back-sliding, Eye-ball, See-saw.
move, you will have. TEN CONCEALED RIVERS.-Nida, Seal, Seine, Agri, Aron, Dan,
Nera, Dee, Erne and Arno,
DIAMOND PUZZLE.- I. H
mor 2. M OP
3. H 0 U S E

ha-l phy 5. H U SEWI FE
ha p 6. C R 0 W I N G
___ 7. F LING
,-'- /'8-. 0 F F
Thus you will find these lines: q. E
Hail, Morphyl bloodless victor, hail! DECAPITATIONS.-i. Slate, late, ate, te (tea). 2. Wheat, heat, eat.
Thou mightier than Napoleon. 3. Goat, oat, at.
His triumphs were the price of blood; PUZZLE.-B-L-I-N-D.
His wars by many generals won, ANswERS TO PUZZLES IN JANUARY NUMBER have been received
While thou upon the chequer'd board, from Anna W. Olcott, Louise Smith, Hattie E. Angell, "Juanita,"
With never erring certainty, "St. Mark's," Worthington G. Ford, F. W. Hobbs, Joseph F. Bird,
Alone, unaided, leadest on S. Walter Goodson.
Thly troops to glorious victory. Mr. T., A. C. P., Susie Brent, T. Donath, R. P. H., S. S. Wol-
REBUS No. 2.-" How slow yon tiny vessel ploughs the main." ott, LucyD. Donaldson, and Mrs H C. S. send the correct
CA ca.S-S icholaanswers to Chess Puzzle in February Number; and answers to other
CHARADE.-St. Nicholas. riddles in the same number have been received from Ormsby Seeley,
QUERIES.-Why, moisture. Earth. Willie A. Durnett, Louise F. Olmstead, Hobart Park, and Willie
CONCEALED PROVERB.-" Where there's a will there 's a way." Boucher Jones.
CULPRIT FAY" ENIGMA.-" On pillars of mottled tortoise-shell." W. C. finds in the Geographical Rebus, in November Number,
PARAPHRASE.-" Fa words buter no parsnips." ninety-five names in addition to those given by us.
PARAPHRASE.--" Fair words butter no parsnips." ninety-five names in addition to those given by us.






























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