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|The two friends|
|A glimpse at Naples|
|Le bouloanger et le marchand de...|
|A training-school for sailors|
|Little Gretchen and her kid|
|The war of the rats and mice|
|Why Walter changed his mind|
|A girl of stars|
|March - The Young survivor|
|The feast of dolls|
|Prudhomme and the little army|
|Bertha and the birds|
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Front Cover 1
Front Cover 2
The two friends
A glimpse at Naples
Le bouloanger et le marchand de tabac
A training-school for sailors
Little Gretchen and her kid
The war of the rats and mice
Why Walter changed his mind
A girl of stars
March - The Young survivor
The feast of dolls
Prudhomme and the little army
Bertha and the birds
Back Cover 1
Back Cover 2
THE TWO FRIENDS.
FROM A PICTURE BY GUSTAVE DORE.
THE TWO FRIENDS.
BY PAUL FORT.
THERE was once a bear who was very lonely
(La Fontaine tells about him in one of his fables),
and as he grew older he began to feel that his soli-
tary lot was too much for him to bear. He had no,
wife, no children, no parents. The larger animals
generally avoided him, and as for the smaller
creatures, such as rabbits and little pigs, they would
have nothing whatever to' do with him, if they
could help it. He had
,No one to love, none to caress,
and he grew sadder day by day.
'Not many miles from the mountain on which
this bear lived, was the house of a man who was
in very much the same condition. He had a com-
fortable home, with gardens and shade-trees, and
pillars and alcoves, with statues of Saturn and
Jupiter and the rest of the heathen gods, and lakes
on which swans glided about.
In all this the man was ever so much better off
than the bear, who had almost nothing at all; but
he was not happy. He, too, had no wife, or child,
or parents. He longed for companionship-some
one into whose ear he could pour his sorrows and
his joys, some one on whose heart he could lovingly
One day, when he was out walking, he met the
bear. At the same instant the same idea struck
each of these individuals. Each said to himself:
Perhaps I have at last. met my friend "
After a few words of ordinary salutation, they
became quite at their ease, and soon struck up a
very pleasant acquaintance as they walked together
through the wood.
The bear was a good honest sort of fellow, and
the man took such a liking to him, that when they
reached his house he invited the bear to stay all
The bear staid all night,, and also the next day,
and the two new friends got along so well together
that they made an arrangement by which the bear
came to live with the man.
They were both very well satisfied with this plan.
The bear had a good house to live in, plenty to
eat, and delightful grounds in which he might rove
about. The man, who was very fond of gardening,
and did not care much for hunting or anything of
that-kind, found the bear extremely useful in get-
ting an occasional deer or wild pig for the family
Besides, when warm and tired after working in
the garden, he was not afraid to lie down and go to
sleep under the shade of one of his great trees, if
the bear were near. He knew very well that no
wild beast or wicked man would dare to harm him
when that true friend stood guard.
And thus they lived pleasantly during a great
part of the Summer. They confided in each other,
they never quarreled, and they seemed to suit each
But one was a man and the other was a bear.
The bear was very strong and good-natured, but
he did not know much. Of course he was not to
blame for that; but his extreme ignorance did not
have a good effect upon his companion. It is very
seldom that we are benefited by intimate association
with ignorant people.
* One day the man was asleep under a tree, and
the bear was watching him. There was nothing to
molest the sleeper -but flies arid gnats, and these
the bear carefully brushed away so that his dear
friend might rest at ease.
266 EIGHT COUSINS. MARCH,
There was, however, one pertinacious gnat, who
would not be brushed away. He buzzed about the
man's head and alighted on his nose. He whisked
himself here, and he whisked himself there; the
more the bear brushed him away, the more he
came back again, buzzing and humming like a little
The bear lost all patience.
My good friend can't get a decent nap for that
wretched gnat! I'11 kill the malicious little insect.
It's the only way to do with such stupid creatures."
So he took up a big stone and hurled it at the
gnat, which had just settled on the nose of the.
The bear killed the bothersome gnat, but he also
crushed the head of his dear friend.
Two or three days afterward, the bear was sitting
under a tree in the forest, thinking about all this.
"The trouble was," he said to himself, that
the man ought to have been careful to choose a
friend with more sense than I've got." Which
proves that the bear was not altogether an idiot.
BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT.
A BELT AND A BOX.
i HEN Rose came out of her chamber,
cup in hand, next morning, the first
person she saw was Uncle Alec
-- "'.. standing on the threshold of the
Room opposite, which he appeared to
,.be examining with care. When he
-, heard her step, he turned about
l-_ and began to sing:
-- "Where are you going, my pretty
S I'm going a-milking, sir, she
said," answered Rose, waving the cup; and then
they finished the verse together in fine style.
Before either spoke, a head, in a nightcap so
large and beruffled that it looked like a cabbage,
popped out of a room farther down the hall, and
an astonished voice exclaimed:
"What in the world are you about so early?"
"Clearing our pipes for the day, ma'am. Look
here, auntie, can I have this room?" said Dr.
Alec, making her a sailor's bow.
Any room you like, except sister's."
"Thanks. And may I go rummaging round in
the garrets and glory-holes to furnish it as I like ?"
My dear boy, you may turn the house upside
down if you will only stay in it."
"That's a handsome offer, I'm sure. I'll stay,
ma'am; here 's my little anchor, so you will get
more than you want of me this time."
That's impossible Put on your jacket, Rose.
Don't tire her out with antics, Alec. Yes, sister,
I 'm coming !" and the cabbage vanished suddenly.
The first milking lesson was a droll one; but
after several scares and many vain attempts Rose
at last managed to fill her cup, while Ben held
Clover's tail so that it could not flap, and Dr. Alec
kept her from turning to stare at the new milk-
maid, who objected to both these proceedings very
"You look chilly in spite of all this laughing.
Take a smart run round the garden and get up a
glow," said the doctor, as they left the barn.
"I'm too old for running, uncle; Miss Powers
said it was not lady-like for girls in their teens,"
answered Rose, primly.
I take the liberty of differing from Madame
Prunes and Prisms, and, as your physician,' I order
you to run. Off with you !" said Uncle Alec, with
a look and a gesture that made Rose scurry away
as fast as she could go.
Anxious to please him, she raced round the beds
till she came back to the porch where he stood, and
dropping down upon the steps, she sat panting with
cheeks as rosy as the rigolette'on her shoulders.
Very well done, child; I see you have not lost
the use of your limbs though you are in your teens.
That belt is too tight; unfasten it, then you can
take a long breath without panting so."
It is n't tight, sir; I can breathe perfectly well,"
began Rose, trying to compose herself.
Her uncle's only answer was to lift her up and
unhook the new belt of which she was so proud.
The moment the clasp was open the belt flew apart
several inches., for it was impossible to restrain the
involuntary sigh of relief that flatly contradicted
Why, I did n't know it was tight it did n't feel
so a bit. Of course it would open if I puff like this,
but I never do, because I hardly ever run," ex-
plained Rose, rather discomfited by this discovery.
I see you don't half fill your lungs, and so you
can wear this absurd thing without feeling it. The
idea of cramping a tender little waist in a stiff band
of leather and steel just when it ought to be grow-
ing," said Dr. Alec, surveying the belt with great
disfavor as he put the clasp forward several holes,
to Rose's secret dismay, for she was proud of her
slender figure, and daily rejoiced that she was n't
as stout as Luly Miller, a former schoolmate, who
vainly tried to repress her plumpness.
"It will fall off if it is so loose," she said anxiously,
as she stood watching him pull her precious belt
"Not if you keep taking long breaths to hold it
on. That is what I want you to do, and when you
have filled this out we will go on enlarging it till
your waist is more like that of Hebe, goddess of
health, and less like that of a fashion-plate,-the
ugliest thing imaginable."
"How it does look!" and Rose gave a glance
of scorn at the loose belt hanging round her trim
little waist. It will be lost, and then I shall feel
badly, for it cost ever so much, and is real steel and
Russia leather. Just smell how nice."
"If it is lost I 'll give you a better one. A soft
silken sash is much fitter for a pretty child like you
than a plated harness like this; and I've got no
end of Italian scarfs and Turkish sashes among my
traps. Ah! that makes you feel better, does n't
it?" and he pinched the cheek that had suddenly
dimpled with a smile.
"It is very silly of me, but I can't help liking to
know that"-here she stopped and blushed and
held down her head, ashamed to add, you think
I am pretty."
Dr. Alec's eyes twinkled, but he said, very
Rose, are you vain ?"
"I 'm afraid I am," answered a very meek voice
from behind the veil of hair that hid the red face.
"That is a sad fault.". And he sighed as if
grieved at the confession.
I know it is, and I try not to be; but people
praise me, and I can't help liking it, for I really
don't think I am repulsive, uncle."
The last word, and the funny tone in which it
was uttered, were too much for Dr. Alec, and he
laughed in spite of himself, to Rose's great relief.
"I quite agree with you; and in order that you
may be still less repulsive, I want you to grow as
'fine a girl as Phebe."
"Phebe !" and Rose looked so amazed that her
uncle nearly went off again.
"Yes, Phebe; for she has what you need-
health. If you dear little girls would only learn
what real beauty is, and not pinch and starve and
bleach yourselves out so, you 'd save an immense
deal of time and money and pain. A happy soul
in a healthy body makes the best sort of beauty for
man or woman. Do you understand that, my
"Yes, sir," answered Rose, much taken down
by this comparison with the girl from the poor-
house. It nettled her sadly, and she showed that
it did by saying quickly:
"I suppose you would like to have me sweep
and scrub and wear an old brown dress, and go
round with my sleeves rolled up as Phebe does?"
I should very much, if you could work as well
as she does, and show as strong a pair of arms as
she can. I have n't seen a prettier picture for some
time than she made of herself this morning, up to
the elbows in suds, singing like a blackbird while
she scrubbed on the back stoop."
"Well, I do think you are the queerest man that
ever lived!" was all Rose could find to say after
this display of bad taste.
"I haven't begun to show my oddities yet, so
you must make up your mind to worse shocks than
this," he said, with such a whimsical look that she
was glad the sound of a bell prevented her showing
more plainly what a blow her little vanities had al-
You will find your box all open up in auntie's
room, and there you can amuse her and yourself
by rummaging to your heart's content; I've got to
be cruising round all the morning getting my room
to rights," said Dr. Alec, as they rose from break-
"Can't I help you, uncle?" asked Rose, quite
burning to be useful.
"No, thank you. I'm going to borrow Phebe
for awhile, if Aunt Plenty can spare her."
Anybody-anything, Alec. You will want me,
I know, so I'll give orders about dinner and be all
ready to lend a hand; and the old lady bustled
away full of interest and good-will.
Uncle will find that I can do some things that
Phebe can't; so now !" thought Rose, with a toss
of the head as she flew to Aunt Peace and the long-
Every little girl can easily imagine what .an extra
good time she had diving into a sea of treasures
and fishing up one pretty thing after another, till
the air was full of the mingled odors of musk and
sandal-wood, the room gay with bright colors, and
Rose in a rapture of delight. She began to forgive
Dr. Alec for the oatmeal diet when she saw a lovely
ivory work-box; became resigned to the state of
her belt when she found a pile of rainbow-colored
sashes; and when she came to some distractingly
pretty bottles of attar of rose, she felt that they al-
most atoned for the great sin of thinking Phebe the
finer girl of the two.
Dr. Alec meanwhile had apparently taken Aunt
Plenty at her word, and was turning the house up-
side down. A general revolution was evidently
going on in the green room, for the dark damask
curtains were seen bundling away in Phebe's arms;
the air-tight stove retiring to the cellar on Ben's
shoulder, and the great bedstead going up garret
in a fragmentary state, escorted by three bearers.
Aunt Plenty was constantly on the trot among her
store-rooms, camphor-chests and linen-closets, look-
ing as if the new order of things both amazed and
Half the peculiar performances of Dr. Alec can-
not be revealed, but as Rose glanced up from her
box now and then she caught glimpses of him
striding by, bearing a bamboo chair, a pair of
ancient andirons, a queer Japanese screen, a rug or
two, and finally a large bathing-pan upon his head.
"What a curious room it will be," she said, as
she sat resting and refreshing herself with Lumps
of Delight," all the way from Cairo.
I fancy you will like it, deary," answered Aunt
Peace, looking up with a smile from some pretty
trifle she was making with blue silk and white
Rose did not see the smile, for just at that
moment her uncle paused at the door, and she
sprang up to dance before him, saying, with a face
full of childish happiness :
"Look at me! look at me! I 'm so splendid I
don't know myself. I have n't put these things on
right, I dare say, but I do like them so much !"
"You look as gay as a parrot in your fez and
cabaja, and it does my heart good to see the little
black shadow turned into a rainbow," said Uncle
Alec, surveying the bright figure before him with
He did not say it, but he thought she made a
much prettier picture than Phebe at the wash-tub,
for she had stuck a purple fez on her blond head,
tied several brilliant scarfs about her waist, and put
on a truly gorgeous scarlet jacket with a golden sun
embroidered on the back, a silver moon on the front,
and stars of all sizes on the sleeves. A pair of
Turkish slippers adorned her feet, and necklaces
of amber, coral and filigree hung about her neck,
while one hand held a smelling-bottle, and the
other the spicy box of oriental sweetmeats.
I feel like a girl in the Arabian Nights,' and
expect to find a magic carpet or a wonderful talis-
man somewhere. Only I don't see how I ever can
thank you for all these lovely things," she said,
stopping her dance, as if suddenly oppressed with
I 'll tell you how-by leaving off the black
clothes, that never should have been kept so long
on such a child, and wearing the gay ones I 've
brought. It will do your spirits good, and cheer
up this sober old house. Wont it, Auntie ?"
I think you are right, Alec, and it is fortunate
that we have not begun on her spring clothes yet,
for Myra thought she ought 'not to wear anything
brighter than violet, and she is too pale for that."
You just let me direct Miss Hemming how to
make some of these things. You will be surprised
to see how much I know about piping hems and
gathering arm-holes and shirring biases," began
Dr. Alec, patting a pile of muslin, cloth and silk
with a knowing air.
Aunt Peace and Rose laughed so that he could
not display his knowledge any farther till they stop-
ped, when he said good-naturedly:
That will go a great way toward filling out the
belt, so laugh away, Morgiana, and I '11l go back to
my work, or I never shall be done."
I could n't help it, shirred biases were so
very funny I" Rose said, as she turned to her box
after the splendid laugh. But really, auntie,"
she added soberly, I feel as if I ought not to have
so many nice things. I suppose it would n't do to
give Phebe some of them ? Uncle might not
He would not mind; but they are not suitable
for Phebe. Some of the dresses you are done with
would be more useful, if they can be made over to
fit her," answered Aunt Peace in the prudent,
moderate tone which is so trying to our feelings
when we indulge in little fits of charitable enthu-
I 'd rather give her new ones, for I think she
is a little bit proud and might not like old things.
If she was my sister it would do, because sisters
don't mind, but she is n't, and that makes it bad,
you see. I know how I can manage beautifully;
I '11 adopt her !" and Rose looked quite radiant
with this new idea.
I 'm afraid you could not do it legally till you
are older, but you might see if she likes the plan,
and at any rate you can be very kind to her, for in
one sense we are all sisters, and should help one
The sweet old face looked at her so kindly that
Rose was fired with a desire to settle the matter at
once, and rushed away to the kitchen just as she
was. Phebe was there, polishing up the queer old
andirons so busily that she started when a voice cried
out : Smell that, taste this, and look at me !"
Phebe sniffed attar of rose, crunched the Lump
of Delight tucked into her mouth, and stared with
all her eyes at little Morgiana prancing about the
room like a brilliant paroquet.
My stars, aint you splendid !" was all she could
say, holding up two dusty hands.
I've got heaps of lovely things upstairs, and
I '11 show them all to you, and I 'd go halves, only
auntie thinks they would n't be useful, so I shall
give you something else; and you wont mind, will
you ? because I want to adopt you as Arabella was
in the story. Wont that be nice ?"
Why, Miss Rose, have you lost your wits?"
No wonder Phebe asked, for Rose talked very
fast, and looked so odd in her new costume, and
/ ',,/ ', i --_ .y
ROSE AND PHEBE.
was so eager she could not stop to explain. Seeing
Phebe's bewilderment, she quieted down and said,
with a pretty air of earnestness :
"It is n't fair that I should have so much and
you so little, and I want to be as good to you as if
you were my sister, for Aunt Peace says we are all
sisters really. I thought if I adopted you as much
as I can now, it would be nicer. Will you let me,
To Rose's great surprise Phebe sat down on the
floor and hid her face in her apron for a minute
without answering a word.
Oh dear, now she 's offended, and I don't know
what to do," thought Rose, much discouraged by
this reception of her offer.
Please, forgive me ; I did n't mean to hurt your
feelings, and hope you wont think -- she fal-
tered presently, feeling that she must undo the
mischief if possible.
But Phebe gave her another surprise, by drop-
ping the apron and showing a face all smiles, in
spite of tears in the eyes, as she put both arms
round Rose, and said, with a laugh and sob :
I think you are the dearest girl in the world,
and I'II let you do anything you
like with me."
"Then you do like the plan?
You did n't cry because I seemed
,. j to be kind of patronizing ? I truly
didn't mean to be," cried Rose,
I guess I do like it and cried
because no one was ever so good
to me before, and I could n't help
it. As for patronizing, you may
walk on me if you want to, and I
wont mind," said Phebe, in a
burst of gratitude, for the words,.
we are all sisters," went straight
to her lonely heart and nestled
S"Well, now, we can play I 'in
a good sprite out of the box, or,
what is better, a fairy godmother
come down the chimney, and you
are Cinderella, and must say what
you want," said Rose, trying to
/ put the question delicately.
.: Phebe understood that, for she
'y had a good deal of natural refine-
y. ment, though she did come from
S the poor-house.
S''i "I don't feel as if I wanted any-
. __ thing now, Miss Rose, but to find
-- --- some way of thanking you for all
you've done," she said, rubbing
off a tear that went rolling down
the bridge of her nose in the most unromantic way.
\' Why, I have n't done anything but given you
a bit of candy Here, have some more, and eat
'em while you work and think what I can do. I
must go and clear up, so good-by, and don't forget
I've adopted you."
You 've given me sweeter things than candy,
and I'm not likely to forget it." And carefully
wiping off the brick-dust, Phebe pressed the little
hand Rose offered warmly in both her hard ones,
while the black eyes followed the departing visitor
with a grateful look that made them very soft and
EIGHT COUSINS. [MARCH,
UNCLE ALEC'S ROOM.
SOON after dinner, and before she had got ac-
quainted with half her new possessions, Dr. Alec
proposed a drive, to carry round the first installment
of gifts to the aunts and cousins. Rose was quite
ready to go, being anxious to try a certain soft bur-
noose from the box, which not only possessed a most
engaging little hood, but had fuzzy tassels bobbing
in all directions.
The big carriage was full of parcels, and even
Ben's seat was loaded with Indian war-clubs, a
Chinese kite of immense size, and a pair of polished
ox-horns from Africa. Uncle Alec, very blue as to
his clothes, and very brown as to his face, sat bolt
upright, surveying well-known places with interest,
while Rose, feeling unusually elegant and comfort-
able, leaned back folded in her soft mantle, and
played she was an Eastern princess making a royal
progress among her subjects.
At three of the places their calls were brief, for
Aunt Myra's catarrh was unusually bad; Aunt
Clara had a room full of company, and Aunt Jane
showed such a tendency to discuss the population,
productions and politics of Europe, Asia, and Africa,
that even Dr. Alec was dismayed, and got away as
soon as possible.
"Now we will have a good time! I do hope
the boys will be at home," said Rose, with a sigh
of relief, as they wound yet higher up the hill to
I left this for the last call, so that we might find
the lads just in from school. Yes, there is Jamie on
the gate watching for us ; now you'll see the clan
gather; they are always swarming about together."
The instant Jamie saw the approaching guests
he gave a shrill whistle, which was answered by
echoes from meadow, house and barn, as the cousins
came running from all directions, shouting, Hoo-
ray for Uncle Alec !" They went at the carriage
like highwaymen, robbed it of every parcel, took
the occupants prisoner, and marched them into
the house with great exultation.
Little Mum! little Mum! here they are with
lots of goodies Come down and see the fun right
away; quick !" bawled Will and Geordie amidst a
general ripping off of papers and a reckless cutting
of strings that soon turned the tidy room into a
Down came Aunt Jessie with her pretty cap half
on, but such a beaming face below it that one
rather thought the fly-away head-gear an improve-
ment than otherwise. She had hardly time to greet
Rose and the Doctor before the boys were about
her, each clamoring for her to see his gift and re-'
joice over it with him, for "little Mum" went
halves in everything. The great horns skirmished
about her as if to toss her to the ceiling; the war-
clubs hurtled over her head as if to annihilate her;
an amazing medley from the four quarters of the
globe filled her lap, and seven excited boys all
talked to her at once.
But she liked it; oh dear, yes and sat smiling,
admiring and explaining, quite untroubled by the
din, which made Rose cover tip her ears and Dr.
Alec threaten instant flight if the riot was not
quelled. That threat produced a lull, and while
the uncle received thanks in one corner, the aunt
had some little confidences made to her in the
Well, dear, and how are things going with you
now? Better, I hope, than they were a week ago."
Aunt Jessie, I think I 'm going to be very
happy, now uncle has come. He does the queerest
things, but he is so good to me I can't help loving
him; and nestling closer to little Mum, Rose told
all that had happened, ending with a rapturous
account of the splendid box.
I am very glad, dear. But, Rose, I must warn
you of one thing; don't let uncle spoil you."
But I like to be spoilt, auntie."
I don't doubt it; but if you turn out badly
when the year is over he will be blamed, and his
experiment prove a failure. That would be a pity,
would n't it ? when he wants to do so much for you,
and can do it if his kind heart does not get in the
way of his good judgment."
I never thought of that, and I '11 try not to be
spoilt. But how can I help it?" asked Rose
By not complaining of the wholesome things he
wants you to do; by giving him cheerful obedience
as well as love; and even making some small sac-
rifices for his sake."
I will, I truly will! and when I get in a worry
about things may I come to you ? Uncle told me
to, and I feel as if I should n't be afraid."
"You may, darling; this is the place where
little troubles are best cured, and this is what
mothers are for I fancy;" and Aunt Jessie drew
the curly head to her shoulder with a tender look
that proved how well she knew what medicine the
child most needed.
It was so sweet and comfortable that Rose sat
still enjoying it till a little voice said:
Mamma, don't you think Pokey would like
some of my shells ? Rose gave Phebe some of her
nice things, and it was very good of her. Can I ?"
"Who is Pokey?" asked Rose, popping up her
head, attracted by the odd name.
"My dolly; do you want to see her?" asked
Jamie, who had been much impressed by the tale
of adoption he had overheard.
"Yes; I'm fond of dollies, only don't tell the
boys, or they will laugh at me."
"They don't laugh at me, and they play with
my dolly a great deal; but she likes me best;"
and Jamie ran away to produce his pet.
I brought my old doll, but I keep her hidden
because I am too big to play with her, and yet I
can't bear to throw her away, I 'm so fond of her,"
said Rose, continuing her confidences in a whisper.
You can come and play
with Jamie's whenever you
like, for we believe in dollies
up here," began Aunt Jessie,
smiling to herself as if some-
thing amused her.
Just then Jamie came back,
and Rose understood the
smile, for his dolly proved to ,
be a pretty four-year-old little
girl, who trotted in as fast as
her fat legs would carry her, /
and making straight for the C ___.
shells scrambled up an arm- -
ful, saying with a laugh that -
showed her little white teeth: -
"All for Dimmy and me, S
for Dimmy and me !"
That's my dolly; is n't -j
she a nice one ? asked Jamie, _
proudly surveying his pet with
his hands behind him and his
short legs rather far apart,-a manly attitude
copied from his brothers.
She is a dear dolly. But why call her Pokey?"
asked Rose, charmed with the new plaything.
"She is such an inquisitive little body she is
always poking that mite of a nose into everything;
and as Paul Pry did not suit, the boys fell to calling
her Pokey. Not a pretty name, but very expres-
It certainly was, for, having examined the shells,
the busy tot laid hold of everything she could find,
and continued her researches till Archie caught her
sucking his carved ivory chess men to see if they
were not barley-sugar. Rice-paper pictures were
also discovered crumpled up in her tiny pocket,
and she nearly smashed Will's ostrich-egg by trying
to sit upon it.
"Here, Jim, take her away; she's worse than
the puppies, and we can't have her round," com-
manded the elder brother, picking her up and
handing her over to the little fellow, who received
her with open arms and the warning remark :
You 'd better mind what you do, for I 'm going
to 'dopt Pokey like Rose did Phebe, and then
you '11 have to be very good to her, you big fel-
"'Dopt away, Baby, and I 'll give you a cage to
keep her in, or you wont have her long, for she is
getting worse than a monkey; and Archie went
back to his mates, while Aunt Jessie, foreseeing a
crisis, proposed that Jamie should take his dolly
home, as she was borrowed and it was time her visit
My dolly is better than yours, is n't she ? 'cause
she can walk and talk and sing and dance, and
JAMIE AND HIS DOLLY.
yours can't do anything, can she ?" asked Jamie
with pride, as he regarded his Pokey, who just then
had been moved to execute a funny little jig and
warble the well-known couplet:
"' Puss-tat, puss-tat, where you been?'
'I been Lunnin, to saw a Tween.'"
After which superb display she retired, escorted
by Jamie, both making a fearful din blowing on
We must tear ourselves away, Rose, because I
want to get you home before sunset. Will you
come for a drive, Jessie ?" said Dr. Alec, as the
music died away in the distance.
"No, thank you; but I see the boys want a
scamper, so if you don't mind, they may escort you
home, but not go in. That is only allowed on
The words were hardly out of Aunt Jessie's
mouth when Archie said in a tone of command :
"Pass the word, lads. Boot and saddle, and be
quick about it."
All right! And in a moment not a vestige
of a boy remained but the litter on the floor.
The cavalcade went down the hill at a pace that
made Rose cling to her uncle's arm, for the fat
old horses got excited by the antics of the ponies
careering all about them, and went as fast as they
could pelt, with the gay dog-cart rattling in front,
for Archie and Charlie scorned Shelties since this
magnificent equipage had been set up. Ben en-
joyed the fun, and the lads cut up capers till Rose
declared that circus was the proper name for
them after all.
When they reached the house they dismounted,
and stood, three on each side the steps, in martial
attitudes, while her ladyship was handed out with
great elegance by Uncle Alec. Then the clan
saluted, mounted at word of command, and with a
wild whoop tore down the avenue in what they
considered the true Arab style.
That was splendid, now it is safely ended,"
said Rose, skipping up the steps with her head over
her shoulder to watch the dear tassels bob about.
I shall get you a pony as soon as you are a
little stronger," said Dr. Alec, watching her with a
Oh, I could n't ride one of those horrid, frisky
little beasts! They roll their eyes and bounce
about so, I should die of fright," cried Rose, clasp-
ing her hands tragically.
Are you a coward ?"
"About horses I am."
"Never mind, then; come and see my new
room;" and he led the way upstairs without an-
As Rose followed she remembered her promise
to Aunt Jessie, and was sorry she had objected so
decidedly. She was a great deal more sorry five
minutes later, and well she might be.
Now take a good look, and tell me what you
think of it," said Dr. Alec, opening the door and
letting her enter before him, while Phebe was seen
whisking down the back stairs with a dust-pan.
Rose walked to the middle of the room, stood
still, and gazed about her with eyes that brightened
as they looked, for all was changed.
This chamber had been built out over the library
to suit some fancy, and had been unused for years,
except at Christmas times, when the old house
overflowed. It had three windows: one to the east,
that overlooked the bay; one to the south, where
the horse-chestnuts waved their green fans; and
one to the west, toward the hills and the evening
sky. A ruddy sunset burned there now, filling the
room with an enchanted glow; the soft murmur of
the sea was heard, and a robin chirped "Good
night!" among the budding trees.
Rose saw and heard these things first, and felt
their beauty with a child's quick instinct; then her
eye took in the altered aspect of the room, once so
shrouded, still and solitary, now so full of light and
warmth and simple luxury.
India matting covered the floor, with a gay rug
here and there; the antique andirons shone on the
wide hearth, where a cheery blaze dispelled the
dampness of the long-closed room. Bamboo
lounges and chairs stood about, and quaint little
tables in cosy corners; one bearing a pretty basket,
one a desk, and on a third lay several familiar-
looking books. In a recess stood a narrow white
bed, with a lovely Madonna hanging over it. The
Japanese screen half folded back showed a delicate
toilet service of blue and white set forth on a
marble slab, and near by was the great bath-pan,
with Turkish towels and a sponge as big as Rose's
Uncle must love cold water like a duck," she
thought, with a shiver.
Then her eye went on to the tall cabinet, where
a half-open door revealed a tempting array of the
drawers, shelves and "cubby holes," which so de-
light the hearts of children.
What a grand place for my new things," she
thought, wondering what her uncle kept in that
Oh me, what a sweet toilet-table !" was her
next mental exclamation, as she approached this
A round old-fashioned mirror hung over it, with
a gilt eagle a-top, holding in his beak the knot of
blue ribbon that tied up a curtain of muslin falling
on either side of the table, where appeared little
ivory-handled brushes, two slender silver candle-
sticks, a porcelain match-box, several pretty trays
for small matters, and, most imposing of all, a
plump blue silk cushion, coquettishly trimmed with
lace and pink rose-buds at the corners.
That cushion rather astonished Rose, in fact the
whole table did, and she was just thinking with a
sly smile :
Uncle is a dandy, but I never should have
guessed it," when he opened the door of a large
closet, saying, with a careless wave of the hand :
Men like plenty of room for their rattle traps;
don't you think that ought to satisfy me ?"
Rose peeped in and gave a start, though all she
saw was what one usually finds in closets,-clothes
and boots, boxes and bags. Ah, but you see these
clothes were small black and white frocks; the row
of little boots that stood below had never been on
Dr. Alec's feet; the green bandbox had a gray
veil straying out of it, and-yes the bag hanging
on the door was certainly her own piece-bag, with
a hole in one corner. She gave a quick look
round the room and understood now why it had
seemed too dainty for a man, why her Testa-
ment and Prayer-Book were on the table by the
bed, and what those rose-buds meant on the blue
cushion. It came upon her in one delicious
burst that this little paradise was all for her, and,
not knowing how else to express her gratitude,
she caught Dr. Alec round the neck, saying im-'
"Oh, uncle, you are too good to me! I'll do
anything you ask me; ride wild horses and take
freezing baths and eat bad-tasting messes, and let
my clothes hang on me, to show how much I thank
you for this dear, sweet, lovely room "
You like it, then ? But why do you think it is
yours, my lass?" asked Dr. Alec, as he sat down
looking well pleased, and drew his excited little
niece to his knee.
"I don't think, I know it is for me; I see it in
your face, and I feel as if I didn't half deserve it.
Aunt Jessie said you would spoil me, and I must
not let you. I 'm afraid this looks like it, and per-
haps-oh me !-perhaps I ought not to have this
beautiful room after all!" and Rose tried to look
as if she could be heroic enough to give it up if it
I owe Mrs. Jessie one for that," said Dr. Alec,
trying to frown, though in his secret soul he felt
that she was quite right. Then he smiled that
cordial smile, which was like sunshine on his brown
face, as he said:
"This is part of the cure, Rose, and I put you
here that you might take my three great remedies
in the best and easiest way. Plenty of sun, fresh
air and cold water; also cheerful surroundings and
some work ; for Phebe is to show you how to take
care of this room and be your little maid as well as
friend and teacher. Does that sound hard and
disagreeable to you, dear ?"
No, sir; very, very pleasant, and I'll do my
best to be a good patient. But I really don't think
any one could be sick in this delightful room," she
said, with a long sigh of happiness as her eye went
from one pleasant object to another.
Then you like my sort of medicine better than
Aunt Myra's, and don't want to throw it out of the
window, hey ?"
(To hie continued.)
"LITTLE BOY BLUE, COME BLOW YOUR HORN,
THE SHEEP'S IN THE MEADOW, THE COW'S IN THE CORN!"
274 THE WATER-BEAR. [MARCH,
BY MARY TREAT.
U '.', / E'. W 1 T '. .E A_
THE water-bear is a comical-looking little animal.
His home is in fresh-water shallow ponds, and he is
so small that only the practiced eye can detect him
without the aid of the microscope. Being less in
size than an ordinary pin-head, it is -not necessary
to take guns and dogs to go in search of our
"bear." All that the successful hunter needs is a
stout stick (a forked one is best), to pull the plants
that harbor him from the pond, and a supply of
vials to hold the water and plants.
An experienced hunter knows pretty well from
the look of the water and plants whether he has hit
upon good "hunting grounds." Satisfied with his
captures, he returns home, takes a tiny spray of
plant from one of the vials, spreads it on a glass
slide hollowed out on one side for the purpose, and
adds a little water from one of the vials to fill the
cavity. It is now ready for the microscope. With
a very strong magnifying power, the water in
the glass slide appears like a deep pond, and the
little spray of plant like a great branch; and here
are myriads of strange creatures swimming about
and frolicking with each other. But the "bear"
is the main object of our search, and here he is.
He looks very much like his larger namesake, only
he has eight legs instead of four.
The portrait does not look quite natural; he
would not keep still long enough to have his por-
trait taken, and so had to be held fast between two
glasses, and this flattened him somewhat.
He goes slowly grubbing about among the plants,
eating as he goes, and food is so abundant where
he lives that we never find a poor, half-starved
specimen. Water-bears always are fat and plump,
from the tiny cub up to full-grown, grave-looking
I have a family of these bears in a little glass
cage upon my study table. The cage is supplied
with pond-water and plants; and as often as I
find a bear I cage him; and when I become tired
and cross, I take a look at this happy family, and
the bears' droll maneuvers never fail to restore
me to good humor. The cage is so constructed
that I can conveniently place it under the micro-
Sometimes I find a bear sitting on his haunches,
entrapped and held in this position by the plants.
He strikes about with his fore paws, but still eats
away as if his very life depended upon his devouring
a certain amount of food, before he can stop to ex-
He changes his skin, I don't know how many
times, but as often as the old dress, becomes too
tight and uncomfortable, I suppose; and he slips
out of it so nicely, leaving it all whole even to the
little claws, and there it stands, not thrown down in
a heap nor mussed at all! For a time I was com-
pletely puzzled on seeing these old dresses standing
about as if inflated, and thought they must be
skeletons-that the body had decomposed and left
only the skin; but after awhile I caught one slip-
ping out of his dress, and the mystery was ex-
The mother-bear makes good use of her old
dress. She converts it into a nursery. In slipping
out of her skin, she manages to leave four or five
eggs inside of it; for the water-bear, unlike its
great namesake, lays eggs, and the little ones
A GLIMPSE AT NAPLES.
must take care of themselves as best they may.
The egg is covered with a membrane, so trans-
parent that we can see through it, and in a few
days after the eggs are left, we can see the outline
of the little bear all coiled up, with its tiny paws
,close to its mouth. It soon bursts the membrane,
and goes slowly plodding about, sometimes within
the nursery walls for a day or so, until at last it
makes its exit through a slit or opening in the
back, and is fairly launched into the great world
of water and plants, where it at once becomes as
much at home as the oldest inhabitant.
A GLIMPSE AT NAPLES.
BY PROF. ISAAC E. HASBROUCK.
Vedi Natoli ef oi mori," say the Neapolitans;
and all strangers say so too; only the American
.and the Englishman say it in English: "See
Naples and die." A very foolish thing to say, you
think. Well, you know people often say more
than they mean. This saying simply means that
Naples is so beautiful that a man cannot find a
more lovely place; and that having seen this city,
he might die contented. We, sober-minded boys
and girls, who see so much that is beautiful and
lovely in life; who find so many reasons why we
'wish to live,-we should not be ready to die just
because we had seen Naples or any other beautiful
But let me tell you a little of this old city. Look
,on your maps, on the front of what we used to call
-the "boot" of Italy,-just above the "instep."
You see how the sea goes a little way into the land
.and forms a bay, and on that bay is our city-
" Napoli; or, as we call it, Naples."
Imagine, then, that we are on a steamer going
'into this Bay of Naples. First, a narrow place
*where the shores come out into the sea, as if they
;intended to meet each other, with three beautiful
islands resting like stepping-stones between. And
here we look over a broad surface of water, spread-
ing in front of us and at the sides like a very large,
nearly round, basin, and about twenty miles across.
But the air is very clear, and we can see the shores
and the houses on them quite as easily as we could
.see half that distance in New York Bay or Long
Island Sound. The scene is so beautiful that an
.old poet of Naples called it "a piece of heaven
-fatten upon the earth." The shores generally slope
up and back from the water with level country in
On our right we see Vesuvius, the wonderful and
dreadful volcano, rising like a black sugar-loaf a
few miles away, but seeniing very near. About half-
way up from the level of the sea, its sides become
very steep and precipitous, covered everywhere
with the hard, black lava, and the scoriac which
have been thrown from the inside of the mountain
through the large crater or hole in the top. There
is nothing very beautiful about Vesuvius; yet it is to
be seen from every place near Naples, always black,
and sometimes with smoke or steam coming out of
its sides, or forming a cloud and floating away from
the top. At the bottom of the mountain, and in
the valley toward Naples, the eye sees with relief
the bright and rich green of trees and fields. Then
we see houses scattered along the curved line of the
shore,-Resina built over where Herculaneum once
stood, and then the city, with its numerous white
houses, looking, as some one has said, like a crowd
of pilgrims going up the hill, while further on,
around this circular shore, we see the celebrated
San Elmo, the great fort, on a higher part of the
The steamer soon touches the dock. Now look
out! Beggars without number are there; they
know exactly when the steamers will come. How
they pester us! If we have taken a hotel omnibus,
we shall get through easily; but if we attempt to
walk, we must prepare for a siege. Every man
there looks darker and uglier than his neighbor;
you feel almost sure that they are not to be
trusted, and yet they all want to carry your satchel
or show you where you do not wish to go. So
much for being a foreigner and a stranger.
We reach the hotel in time and soon set out
to see the city. The hotel is not very .different
from those in New York-only almost nobody
A GLIMPSE AT NAPLES.
But the city does not remind us of New York.
At first we pass along a wide street with the bay at
our right, but when we turn off to see the city," we
can easily believe that Naples is more than two
I. .0, -
BRINGING FRUIT AND VEGETABLES INTO NAP:
thousand years old. There is a story-not in the
histories-that it was founded by a Siren called
Parthenope, and at first called by her name. The
story is true as to the name, but we must disbelieve
the first part, for a Siren-who tries to attract
people-would certainly have planned and built a
different city. The houses are high and dingy, the
streets, with a few exceptions, very narrow, so that
they seem more like cracks than like thorough-
But every picture has a bright spot somewhere.
These streets are paved all over as nicely as a New
York sidewalk with large blocks of lava that, when
it poured out of the crater of Vesuvius, was soft as
mud and hotter than the red iron from a black-
smith's forge. Then this pavement is generally
quite clean, and, since the high buildings keep the
street shady, and the sidewalks are not much wider
than a plank, the people walk in the middle of the
streets, which gives it a lively appearance. The bal-
conies and roofs of the houses are often turned into
little flower gardens; for however poor and wretched
a home may be, there is generally some one there
who coaxes a plant or two into bloom.
I said there were a few exceptions to the narrow
streets. Around on the west side of the bay, near
the shore, is the Chiaja (chee-ai-
yah), a fine wide drive, with a
garden, bright with flowers,
nearly a mile long. Here, just
before sunset, nearly all Naples
,,; comes to drive or promenade.
A stream of carriages as far as
you can see, and four abreast,
with the walks full of pedes-
trians, and the riding-paths of
people on horseback,-all this,
with music and the soft air of
an Italian evening, makes the
Chiaja a delightful change from
S the ugly faces and whining
S' .. voices of the beggars who beset
you in the streets. There is
another wide street called the
S .; Toledo, and one end of it, near
the Royal Palace, seems always
full of people. That country
.cousin," who thought all the
people on. Broadway must be
just coming from church, would
think that two churches must
-... have "let out" at once on the
Here comes a fruit and veg-
etable dealer with his donkey,
LES. here are dark-eyed toddlers offer-
ing flowers for almost nothing,
and here stand boys who try to sell you canes.
If you are willing to buy one, all the boys rush
up at once and make such a clatter that you feel
like running away. Two francs is the price asked;
but do not pay it. These urchins intend to sell
you one for half that price before they let you
go. It is just so in the stores; the price is twice
or three times as much as they expect to get. A
shopper" would find a capital opportunity to
"beat down" the prices if she should go to
Naples; but even if she bought anything for half-
price, she would pay more than some one else
had given for a much better article of the same
But here comes a procession. Stand at one side.
A man with a bell, followed by priests in long
black gowns, and carrying candles; also boys with
lights. They are going to the house of a man who
is dying; many of the crowd go along; all are
quiet. Perhaps it is a funeral procession with the
bier; then the people remove their hats-a beauti-
ful custom--and make a sign of the cross on their
A GLIMPSE AT NAPLES.
breasts. Now let us go to the "Duomo," or Cathe-
dral, to see the worship. The Cathedral of Naples
was begun in the year 1272, or six hundred years
ago. At the sides, as we enter, there are little
rooms, something like large, dark bay-windows,
without any window. These are called chapels."
In one we may see a marriage ceremony; in
another, a baptism; in another, a funeral service.
The Roman Catholic churches are always open for
any service or worship.
One of these chapels is called the "Chapel of St.
Januarius." It ought to be elegant if not grand,
for it cost 2,000,000 dollars. In this chapel are
kept two vials, which are said to contain the
blood of St. Januarius. Three times each year, in
May, September, and December, the blood is said
to become liquid. Of course this is a great event,
since the saint was beheaded more than 1500 years
ago, and his blood ought to be pretty hard by this
time. Nevertheless, many of the people believe
that the blood does become liquid, and they have
these three days as festivals, or gala days. They
go to the Cathedral, and if they think they see
the "miracle" accomplished, they are satisfied
that St. Januarius can still hear them and protect
their city from pestilence and the eruptions of
ago, notwithstanding that the saint's blood had
become liquid a few months before.)
Festivals, begging, dining, and doing nothing
are the favorite occupations of these people. This
is one of the countries where even a beggar rides if
possible. They cannot understand how any one
should walk from choice. A person on foot, unless
he shows too plainly that he is a stranger (all
foreign pedestrians get the name "Inglesi "-Eng-
lish), may go his way without much fear of beggars;
he soon has the reputation of being a fittore, or
beggar himself; not an enviable reputation, per-
haps, but one which, about Naples, saves the un-
ending torment of being followed and called after by
every second man, woman or child you meet, ask-
ing for a few centessimi. The picture on this page
shows how they ride-or, if you please, how they do
not walk-at Naples. It is no jest. On one of the
holidays a dozen or twenty people of all kinds-
priests, monks, porters, women-get a sort of cart,
a calesso, or calesh, and piling in, from the patriarch
to the infant in arms, away they go for a picnic. The
artist has given this party a better-looking horse
than they usually have, the horse frequently being
a little donkey no larger than some of the men inr
the calesso. This party have left the city and
A NEAPOLITAN PICNIC PANTY.
Mount Vesuvius (I am sorry to have to add in are going on a delightful excursion through the
this parenthesis that Vesuvius had an eruption. ChGajal probably to Virgil's tomb or some favorite
with great destruction of property, only two years place in the country.
this parenthesis that Vesuvius had an eruption, Chiaja, probably to Virgil's tomb or some favorite
278 A GLIMPSE AT NAPLES. [MARCH,
You have seen on page 276 a picture of a
donkey loaded with fruit and vegetables. In this
way the country people every morning bring their
loads to market. Very often you scarcely notice
the donkey, but all you can see is a huge pile
of hay or onions, carrots, &c., moving along very
deliberately with four little black feet under the
pile. Sometimes a pair of long ears stick out in
front, or if it is fly-time, a tail appears at the other
end, switched in a way which is a warning to the
flies. A donkey thus bearing his two panniers, or
I .'Z, u.,' -lp
9 it -r
"YOU SCARCELY NOTICE THE DONKEY."
large baskets, suspended over his back, heaped up
with bright turnips, yellow carrots, shining onions
and long squash pumpkins, is often seen in the
streets of Naples.
But, of course, there is some business done in so
large a city as Naples; the people do not all ride
and walk and look at each other. The shopkeepers
know that the foreigners who visit their city are
fond of beautiful things, and they fill their shops
accordingly. There are many jewelry stores, and
very beautiful ornaments of coral, most delicately
tinted with pink, and of lava from Vesuvius, and
of tortoise-shell. The girls who read this sketch
would be delighted to go into one of the large
manufattories where they make these beautiful
articles. And there, too, these things are very
cheap, for the coral and tortoise-shell, and lava, are
obtained close by Naples, and the workmen receive
small wages, and the. merchants are anxious to get
your money. Then there are handsome boxes,
fans, &c., made from wood, beautifully carved, and
brought from Sorrento, a city near by. Beautiful
silk goods are made here; the girls who read ST.
NICHOLAS all know of the Gros de Naples."
Violins, too, are among the things which these
people can make better than almost any others,
and we need not wonder how so many little Italian
boys about our streets, as.ragged as they are little,
yet play so easily on this instrument; they come
from the land of violins. There is another article
in the manufacture of which you would be inter-
ested, and that is macaroni. As you ride along
the west shore toward Vesuvius, you see building
after building in which, and before which, the long
white macaroni, or vermicelli, is hung up on poles
to dry. Inside is the machine which kneads the
flour into a paste, and the iron cylinder into which
this stiff dough is placed, when a big pounder
shoves it down tight until the little stems come
through the holes in the bottom of the cylinder,
and are pulled off every few minutes and hung up
to dry. The Italians can eat macaroni almost as
fast as they can make it-in fact, during their meal
it seems thatmthere is one unbroken string of it pass-
ing from their dishes into their mouths.
One thing a stranger notices in Naples, that the
people seem to live in the streets. Indeed there
are about forty thousand of them-called Lazzaroni,
from the Church of St. Lazarus, where many go at
night-who have no homes. They are certainly to
be pitied and to be feared too, for about twenty-
five years ago they took it into their heads that so
many of them could do as they pleased and could
have what they wanted; and, before they could be
taught better, sixteen hundred of them were killed
in the fight which followed. But it is not only the
beggars who live about the streets. You know
about the Chiaja" and their picnics; also, there
are a great many little stands on the streets where
you can buy almost any thing-wonderful fruits,
and such luscious grapes at five or six cents a
pound! The cafis, a kind of restaurant, have their
half of the street filled with little iron tables and
chairs, where people sit and chat and laugh as
only contented Italians can. The shoemaker and
tinker, and women with their work for the large
stores-for there are few large factories where the
work-people are collected together-all sit before
their doors and hammer or sew.
SAnother feature of the out-of-door trade of
Naples is the basket-seller, with his top-heavy,
swaying pyramid of wares. The illustration on the
next page describes him better than words can
Baskets of all sorts, sizes, shapes and colors, the
pile topped out with a bouquet or sprig of some
tree of flower. See, too, his plan for obtaining a
light-the lantern carried over his head from the
beak of a large bird-a good labor-saving idea.
But you wonder what there is in Naples to attract
so many travelers. Well,. you know there are very
many people who travel because they think it is
fashionable, or the thing to do, or to be able to say:
"Oh! yes; I know; I was there in such or such
A GLIMPSE AT NAPLES.
A GLIMPSE AT NAPLES. 279
a year." Genuine travelers do not remain in have been preserved in this collection, are those
Naples, but go on to visit the beautiful and wonder- which show just what people were doing when the
ful scenery about the city. No one tires of
looking at the bay or at Vesuvius. Then there
are the two cities long ago buried by Vesu-
vius-Herculaneum, which is still under the
ground, and Pompeii, which has been partly
uncovered. And the country, hardly a day's
travel from the city, is superb. Artists come
here from every land to sketch and paint the
beautiful nooks and landscapes which nature
has scattered here.
There are, however, a few places of inter-
est in the city. The churches, though dull
enough outside, are richly decorated within.
The historian and antiquary find some ancient
landmarks of interest to themselves. But the
only place we shall care to visit is the "Mu-
seum." This is a very large building, very
full of curious and interesting articles; indeed
the collection is, in some respects, the finest in
the world. We shall only notice a few things.
A large part of the objects preserved here with
so much care are from 2,000 to 5,oo000 years
old, or even older, and have been found in
the ruins of Pompeii and other cities. They
show, then, how people used to live and dress
in that old, old time. We often think that
those people, who lived so far back, did not
know how to make themselves comfortable.
But in this Museum are the funniest arrange-
ments for stoves, as well as jewelry of'gold, ear-
rings, bracelets, ankle-bands, and other articles.
A snake, with his tail in his mouth, was a favor-
ite form of ornament, being to them a sym-
bol of eternity. Their lamps were cunningly
shaped in bronze, and there are numerous
mantel and table ornaments also in bronze.
Their statuettes and groups show that the
artists and workmen 2,000 years ago were not
less skillful than those who fill the show win-
dows of New York with elegant workmanship.
Another curious collection contains pieces of
walls taken from the houses of Pompeii when
the ground was dug out i,8oo years after the
city had been covered up by one of the erup- --
tions of Vesuvius. The Pompeiians had the -_-
walls of their rooms frescoed, and so well did
their painters understand the mixing of paints,
that the colors of the frescoes are brighter,
better, to-day, after being under ground so
long, than anything our fresco-painters can do. -Z z
These frescoes were not simply colors, but the -
representation of some person or scene in his- A BASKET-SELLER.
tory or mythology, so that even the walls sug-
gested some subject for conversation or thought. storm of ashes from the mountain overwhelmed
But the most wonderful relics of Pompeii, which them. Especially interesting are the articles taken
from the ovens of the bakeries. Among others are eggs that were boiled in the kitchen, and then
loaves of bread, bearing the name of the baker- baked in the great oven into which all Pompeii
Q. Cranivs-the v being for a u. Then there are was turned in the year 79-nearly 1,8oo years ago.
BY AMALIE LA FORGE.
"WELL, Jackson, I 'm sorry you're going to
Well, Miss, I wunno say I beant, but it's best
for the lad yon."
Miss Eldred spoke quickly: "You mean this
miserable business about the Rectory fruit ?"
I can't understand it at all. What does my
brother say ? "
Well, Miss, I wunno say nought agin Parson;
but he thinks more nor he ought o' what old John
says. It's hard on the lad."
Of course it is, poor boy," with a quick glance
out at the little figure lying on the grass, his brown
eyes fixed on the arching sky, visible in peeps
through the leaves of the apple-tree. I have but
just got home; tell me how it all happened."
"Well, Miss, the fruit was gone, and old John
wanted it for the show; and my lad 'd been there
that day, and it was all taken from low down, like
my lad could reach, and old John he said it was
Christie; and he come down to the school, and the
master beat my lad, and I was that angered, Miss,
I could ha' twisted their necks, to call my Christie
a thief! And this man in Lunnon, he liked my
work, and so we're to go-Christie and me. It's
hard leaving' the old place and the forge, an' my lad
he feels it."
I will go out to him." And Miss Eldred passed
swiftly down the little walk, bordered with wall-
flowers and southernwood, and so over the grass in
Christie !" she said, softly.
Christie sprang to his feet at the familiar voice,
his cheeks flushed with pleasure; then his eyes
drooped, the color grew deeper, and then faded,
and he drew back shyly.
That was all; but he understood, and as Miss
Eldred sat down on the grass, he flung himself be-
side her, and, burying his face in his hands, sobbed
Why, Christie did you think I don't know ?"
He lifted his head presently. "I thought they
would tell you, Miss, and -- "
Well, and if they did, I think I know my little
Christie better than they do."
His face brightened. Then, Miss, you don't
"Don't be foolish, Christie."
"Thank you, Miss."
Miss Eldred smiled. "And now tell me how
your back has been since I saw you ? "
Pretty bad, Miss; it hurts me to sit in church
now. I can't mind what Parson says, sometimes,
for the ache."
"My poor Christie."
They sat quiet a few minutes; then Miss Eldred
spoke again :
Where is your father going to work, Christie ?"
I don't rightly know, Miss; only it's some big
works. Father's pleased, and says he '11 have
money soon, and '11 see some great doctor about
my back. But I'll never be well, Miss; only father
-he likes to talk about it, Miss; but I know."
And Christie's eyes wandered off to the sky again
-a trick they had.
Miss Eldred looked at him sadly. The white
little face, with its pleading brown eyes and look of
patient suffering, was one to attract even a stran-
ger's compassion. A fall having injured his spine,
he was forced to use crutches, and could then only
walk with difficulty. But here in Burnshope, there
were few that did not love the little lame Christie;
and, with a thrill of pity, she thought of his lone-
liness in the great city to which he was going.
Christie himself broke the silence. "I wonder
if Master Harry would take my rabbit, Miss; he
said once it matched one of his ?"
Has Master Harry been to see you lately,
"No, Miss," he spoke quietly; but a flush crept
into his cheek.
Miss Eldred understood, and said nothing more
about it till she was going away; then she said,
holding the wan little hand : I will speak about
the rabbit, and Christie, remember, if we are
patient and trust in God, light will be brought out
of darkness yet." And Christie smiled up at her
The next Sunday, many eyes were turned to the
place where the little lame boy sat for the last
time. He had a peculiarly sweet soprano voice,
and for some months had led the choir of boys.
Here endeth the second lesson."
There was a hush, then clear and sweet sounded
the plaintive notes of the Nunc Dimittis: Lord,
now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, ac.
cording to Thy word."
Christie forgot himself in his singing, his form
"I AINT GOIN' TO TOUCH YOU; HERE'S YOUR APPLE."
straightened, the sun shining through the west win- '
dow tinged his face with its glory, his eyes were his
raised, and full and clear the notes rang out.
'T was like an angel singing," whispered one (
to another, con
That was the last they heard him sing. His face doo
grew paler and paler. As Miss Eldred left the C
organ, she touched him softly, tin;
Are you in pain, Christie ?"
"Yes, Miss." his
I think you would better go home, would n't ing
you ? She slipped her arm round him; his head *ow;
oped heavily on her shoulder-Christie had
L large old house in London, grimy and dirty.
the long, weary stair a little figure is slowly
ing, clinging to the railing with one hand; he
ages to carry a basket and help himself by his
tch with the other.
SLame duck lame duck "
bhristie pauses and looks down. Through the
door-way peers an elfish face, sur-
rounded by tangled black hair.
Christie sighs softly, and, as the
ungainly figure thrusts itself into
sight, he sits down on the step-
he is too unsteady to risk an en-
counter standing. The face grins
derisively, and then the owner
thereof limps across the hall with
',' I a well-executed copy of Christie's
,, 4I, halting step.
A',!, The thin cheeks flush, and the
brown eyes fill with tears.
The boy stops at the foot of the
1 stair. Wot's it got in its basket,
eh ? "
Apples," said Christie, gently.
Would you like one ?"
iil A text had crossed his mind:
Do good to them that despite-
.. fully use you, and persecute you."
The boy stared at this offer.
l Christie opened his basket and
i, ] took out one, red and shining.
S "Can you catch?" The boy
opened his hands mechanically.
There! and Christie smiled.
Then, as the boy made no fur-
ther move, he went slowly on
again. As he neared the top, he
heard quick steps after him. He
sat down immediately, from habit.
"I aint goin' to touch you,"
said his tormentor, half-angrily;
here 's your apple."
It is n't my apple now," and Christie put back
hand. It's yours, and I wish you'd keep it."
Here I'll take your basket."
hristie gave it up quietly. He mistrusted his
apanion, but resistance was useless. At his own
r he paused; the boy stopped also.
' Will you come in ?" asked Christie, hesita-
Greatly to his astonishment, and not a little to
disturbance, his invitation was accepted. Point-
* to a chair, Christie dropped exhausted into his
Tired, aint you?" And his visitor looked at
Wot makes you go up an' down so ?"
- "Oh, I have to. There's many things to get
for father and me, and I can't stay here always,"-
with a half-despairing look at the bare walls and
grimy windows. There's some grass and trees
round that corner, and I go there."
Wot's your name ? was the next question.
Christie Jackson. What's yours ?"
Unconsciously, Jim had lowered his. voice from
its usual high key. The gentle influence of Chris-
tie's brown eyes and quiet manner was already
"Wot makes you speak so soft ?" he asked
Soft? Oh, I don't know !-perhaps because
I 'm small and lame."
No, that aint it,"-and Jim shook his head
sagely,-"'cause there's Bobbins, he's wus than
you, and my! don't he swear though."
Christie looked uneasy, and tried to turn the
conversation away from himself.
What do you do, Jim ? "
Nuthin," was the prompt answer.
Why, how do you live ?"
Oh I gets a sixpence sometimes, holding' gen-
tlemen's bosses, an' I prigs a five now an' then.
My! there's a many ways o' livin', if you only
Christie's brown eyes opened wider; but here
the conversation was abruptly ended by Jim seizing
his old cap, and darting out at the door, with the
exclamation, "There 's your father I much as he
would have said, There 's a tiger "
"Well, my lad, how goes it ?"
"Pretty well, father." And Christie smiled
cheerfully. He never troubled his father with
complaints of the rough usage he sometimes suf-
fered, and now he said nothing of Jim's visit. He
was yet undecided whether to regard him as friend
or foe, so thought it best to say nothing.
After that, he was never molested by Jim. Sev-
eral times the boy carried his basket for him up the
long stairs; and once, when some urchin in the
court was jeering and laughing at Christie as he
limped past, Jim darted suddenly out of an alley
and knocked the offender flat on the stones.
One day in the early Autumn, the question of
their friendship was finally settled. Christie had
been getting worse and worse; he was nervous too,
and easily frightened, and as the days grew colder
he went out but seldom. But this day he had
crept out for a breath of air to some less confined
spot than that he now called home, and on his re-
turn he came upon a group of the roughest boys in
the vicinity. Instantly he was surrounded; ques-
tions and jests flew around him like bees, stinging
as fiercely. His progress was stopped; one took
his crutch, and poor Christie, the tears filling his
sad brown eyes, stood perfectly helpless. At that
moment, Jim turned the corner. Christie saw him,
and stretched out his hands imploringly :
"Oh, Jim "
He turned and saw the boy's appealing face. In
an instant he dashed in amongst them, and, seizing
Christie's slight form in his strong, young arms,
carried him safely to his room, and placed him in a
chair. Then, saying hurriedly, I'll be back," he
vanished down the stair, with the whoop of an
Indian. Presently he returned in triumph, with
Christie's cap and crutch.
Now, Christie, don't you never go down there
alone; wot you wants, I'll get. Don't you be
afeard-I '11 be honest; and you aint fit for 'em
Christie smiled gratefully ; but when Jim turned
to go, he stretched out a detaining hand.
"Please stay, Jim; I 'm afraid."
That was the proudest moment in Jim's life, that
anything so small and weak should want him.
The tears actually started to his eyes.
For some time Christie obeyed Jim's injunction;
but, one foggy evening, he stole quietly out into
the street. There was no bread for supper, and
the baker's was not far. The lamps shone but
dimly, and it was with some difficulty that he found
his way. With the bread under his arm, he was
crossing the street on his return, when he heard a
trampling near him. A voice on the other side
shouted, Look out you there !" Something
struck him on the shoulder, and Christie knew
nothing more till he opened his eyes in a room
filled with little white beds. Beside him stood two
gentlemen. There was a queer feeling in his head,
and a kind-looking woman was holding something
to his lips.
Where 's father ?"
He's coming, dear," answered the woman.
Then she hurried away to the corner where Jim
was crouching. "Where's your father, my boy ?"
"Aint got none."
"Why, your little brother's asking for him."
Oh, his / I 'll fetch him."
When Jim dragged Christie from under the
wheels of the cab, his grief and rage at the acci-
dent were so violently expressed that he was sup-
posed to be the brother of the lame child, and
on this account he was allowed to accompany
him to the children's hospital, where some com-
passionate bystander had him at once conveyed.
Now, as he darted through the fog, he was revolv-
ing in his mind how the delusion could be kept
up; but, as he neared Christie's home, the thought
of telling Christie's father drove everything else
from his mind.
Jackson had just come home, and, wondering at
Christie's absence, was preparing to go out in
search of him, when the door was burst open and
"Here! you're wanted."
Wanted?" and Jackson stared at the intruder.
"Who wants me ?"
Christie What ha' you done to my lad ?'
And he grasped Jim's arm fiercely.
"Nuthin." And Jim's head drooped on the
back of a chair.
Where's my lad?" The strong man's voice
Oh, Mr. Jackson he were crossing and a cab
gunned over him, an' I pulled him out, and they
took him to a hospital, an' his leg 's broke, an' he
wants you ?" And here Jim's voice ended in a
Come along, my lad; an' thank you kindly
for coming. "
Poor little Christie Day after day he lay moan-
ing on the little white bed, standing in a row of
other little white beds, in the hospital ward. He
could not move himself at all; the nurse hurt him,
he said, and it was only by Jim's young arms that
he consented to be lifted; and Jim, grown strangely-
quiet and tender, would sit beside him for hours,
ready in an instant to respond to the feeblest call.
Often Christie was delirious, and then he would
talk of the green fields, the cottage and the old
forge, of the church, of "Master Harry," and his
rabbit. But Miss Eldred's name was oftenest on
his lips; and one day, when he opened his eyes
after a fevered sleep, he thought his dream was not
yet ended, for there, beside his bed, sat Miss
Eldred, and Master Harry was standing beside her.
Christie looked at them quietly for some mo-
ments, expecting them to fade away, as all his
visions did. But when they did not move, but
grew more and more distinct to his eyes, he
stretched out his hand feebly.
Miss Eldred "
My little Christie And she kissed his fore-
How did you come ? "
Your father got the doctor to write about you."
And Master Harry! "
Oh, Christie! I'm awful sorry; and we know
now it was Jacko, my monkey, that took the fruit!"
His aunt would have stopped him, but as she
saw the wan face on the pillow slowly brighten, she
let Harry tell his story in his own way.
This Fall, when the plums were ripe, I saw
Jacko creeping along the wall, and he picked some
off the low branches. Christie, I followed him,
and he stuffed them all into a hole in the wall. I
got a stick and poked out apricot stones and plums
that had been there for ever so long. Did n't I
give John a jolly rowing! There was his old fruit
he 'd made such a fuss about. I did n't half believe
it, Christie, and grandpapa never did, nor Aunt
Elsie, and papa says-- "
There, Harry, that will do," for Miss Eldred
saw Christie's eyes close to keep in the tears. The
pale lips moved, and she bent down to listen. He
was repeating softly part of the Song of the Vir-
gin," a chant of which he was particularly fond:
" My soul doth magnify the Lord my God, and my
spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour."
When they had gone, Jim's head appeared from
the other side of the bed.
Wot was they talking' about, Christie,-the
young chap, I mean ? "
And Christie told him, with many a break in his
Jim's fists doubled, and his eyes flashed, as
I'd like to punch his head But whose head
forever remained an open question.
But the Squire-that's Miss Eldred's father-
he did n't believe it," said Christie, with a proud
smile. Nor Miss Eldred, and Master Harry only
for a bit,-and oh, Jim, I 'm so happy "
The next day Miss Eldred returned. She had
had a talk with the doctors, and her face was bright
with the kindly thought that filled her heart.
Little Christie, how would you like to go back
to Burnshope ? she asked, as she took her place
"Oh, Miss, if I could !"
Well, I 've been talking to your father, and he
is willing. The cottage is empty, and so is the
forge ; and the doctors say London air wont do for
you. So, if you get better fast, they say you may
be moved. This is the first of December. Would
you like to be there for Christmas ?"
"Oh, Miss Eldred "
Christie could say nothing more, but his face
was enough. Presently, a shadow stole over it.
Oh, Miss, I can't leave Jim "
Who is Jim ?"
And then Christie, in his simple words, told her
what he had never told anyone before,-of the
cruel words, and often cruel hands, of his rough
neighbors ; and the tears gathered in his listener's
eyes as he spoke of sufferings which he had borne
so quietly, alone.
And so you love Jim, Christie, and don't want
to part with him ? "
284 LITTLE C
Well, we '11 see about it; but you need n't say
anything about it to him yet."
But Jim knew that Christie had a secret, from
his absent manner, and the odd answers he some-
times gave to his questions; and the poor wild
little heart was wrung with a fierce pain when he
thought that the old friends were stealing his
Christie's love away from him. He, in turn, be-
came silent and constrained; and Christie would
gaze wistfully into his moody face, and then turn
away with a sigh that somehow always ended in a
But, the next day, Jim was fully repaid for his
misery; for, as he was turning away on coming in
and finding Miss Eldred and Harry, Christie held
out his hand.
Come, please, Jim! Then drawing him down
beside him, he turned with bright eyes to Miss*
Eldred. "Now, Miss, tell him, please !"
Christie wants me to tell you, Jim, that the
doctors think he can soon be moved, and we are
going to take him back to Burnshope."
Jim said nothing, but a dark flush swept over his
face. Christie slipped his hand into his, and Miss
Eldred went on:
Now, our little boy here does not want to leave
you, and so I've been talking to his father, and he
says that he often wants a boy about the forge, and
Christie here will need some one to help him for
some time yet; and we want to know if you would
like to go with him and take care of him ? "
She stopped, for a sob came from Jim, who had
buried his face in Christie's pillow.
Oh, Miss, and I was just hating you !
Hating me ?"
Why, Jim ?" said Christie.
Yes, Miss. I thought you wos takin' my little
lad here away, and I'd never see him no more;
and now-you speak, Christie."
And he turned imploringly to Christie, who was
lying smiling happily to himself.
You need n't speak, Jim-nor me; Miss Eldred
On Christmas Eve, when the London train came
thundering up to Burnshope station, a little white,
eager face was looking out at one of the carriage
windows. The porter hastened to open the door,
and Jim leaped out, followed by Jackson, with little
Christie in his arms. Miss Eldred and Harry were
on the platform, and the Squire's carriage stood
waiting for him; but before he reached it, the
Rector came up, holding out his hand.
"Welcome back to Burnshope, little Christie;
and I ask your pardon, dear boy, for my unjust
Oh, please, sir, don't! And Christie turned a
distressed face to Miss Eldred.
But the triumphant Jim, following, looked on
with a grim pleasure. His Christie had been
abased; it was just he should be exalted now. At
the door of the cottage. stood the very same Susan
that they had left behind, and, in a new hutch,
Christie's rabbit was calmly munching cabbage.
That night, Christie was awakened by singing,
which came nearer and nearer, till it sounded un-
der the cottage window.
Jim crept to his side. Christie Christie is it
the angels ?"
It's the waits, Jim."
They sing on Christmas morning. Listen!
That's the clock striking one, and they 've come
here. Carry me to the window, Jim."
Jim did so, and, seating him on a low chair,
wrapped the bed-clothes round him. Christie's
face beamed with delight.
Now open the window. Listen, Jim !"
Then, loud and clear, from many voices, came
the grand old hymn :
"While shepherds watched their flocks by night,
All seated on the ground,
The angel of the Lord came down,
And glory shone around."
With his arm slipped over Jim's shoulder, Christie
listened. The moon shone on the dark figures
standing in the newly fallen snow; beyond, rose
the tower of the old church, where he was to sing
again as soon as he got well; beside him knelt
Jim-his tender, trusty friend. Christie's heart
brimmed over with thankfulness; and, as the last
verse began, high and clear, as of old, Christie's
voice joined in the strain :
"All glory be to God on high,
And to the earth be peace;
Good-will henceforth from Heaven to men,
Begin and never cease."
The singers looked up when the hymn ended;
and, as they caught sight of the little figure at the
window, the carpenter, their leader, turned to the
rest: If it is Christmas morn, my lads, let's give
three cheers for little Christie And, knowing
all his story, with what hearty good-will were they
given-such cheers as only can come from English
lungs And many a one turned back, as they
tramped away over the snow, to catch the wave of
the little thin hand from Christie's dormer window.
BY MARY E. BRADLEY.
SOME little sparrows on a tree
Were chattering together:
Said one of them, It seems to me
We '11 soon have falling weather;
I would n't feel the least surprise
If I should hear it thunder."
" Well, you're extremely weather-wise,"
An old one said; "I wonder
Where you were hatched, and when, my dear,
To talk of that, this time of year !
" It's much more likely, let me say,
Although it's to my sorrow,
That you will see it snow to-day-
At all events to-morrow."
He hopped off to another twig,
When he had thus admonished
His neighbors not so wise and big,
And left them quite astonished.
" What does he mean? and what is snow?
They asked each other: Do you know?"
And not a single one could tell;
So after lots of chatter,
They all concluded, very well,
'T was no such mighty matter.
But in the night-time came the snow,
According to his warning;
And oh! what flying to and fro
And twittering, next morning!
" How cold it is they chirped-" 0 dear !
How disagreeable and queer!"
The old one swelled with self-conceit;
I told you so," he muttered.
" Now see what you will find to eat"-
And off again he fluttered.
The little sparrows, in despair,
They looked at one another-
" Oh! where is all the seed, and where
The bugs and worms, my brother ?
To die of hunger, that's a fate
One shudders but to contemplate."
Now, in the house behind the tree,
There was a little maiden,
Who laughed out merrily to see
The branches all snow-laden.
She broke her bread up, crumb by crumb,
Along the sill so narrow,
And called, "Dear little birdies, come
Here's some for ev'ry sparrow.
I 'll feed you, darlings, every day,
Because you never fly away.
" The blue-bird and the bobolink,
They 're birds of gayer feather,
But not so nice as you, I think,
That stay in winter weather.
So hop along the window-sill,
There 's food enough for twenty;
Come every day and eat your fill,
You 'll always find a-plenty."
And after that, come frost or snow,
Be sure the birds knew where to go!
286 LE BOULANGER ET LE MARCHAND DE TABAC. [MARCH,
LE BOULANGER ET LE MARCHAND DE TABAC.*
PAR A. D. F. H.
Voils une maison bien curieuse Trop grande
pour une maison ordinaire, trop laide pour un
palais, et d'une architecture bizarre; elle excite sans
doute parmi les milliers qui lisent le S. NICOLAS
une grande curiosity et beaucoup de rires. C'est
h 1'egard de cette mason que je vais vous raconter
une petite histoire interessante comme un conte
arabe, mais en mime temps tout h fait vraie.
Dans un des immense bazars si nombreux is
Constantinople, il existait, au milieu du siecle
passe, un bureau de tabac Turc et une boulangerie
Grecque. Les proprietaires des deux 6tablisse-
LA MASON CURIEUSE.
ments, nommrs respectivement Ibra.Jim et Yorghi,
avaient concu 1'un pour 1'autre une ferme amitie,
perpetuoe avec une gale sincerity par leurs deux
fils qui portaient les mimes noms que leurs peres.
L'un musulman, l'autre chrltien, ces deux gargons
6taient toujours ensemble, soit qu'ils jouassent, soit
qu'ils travaillassent; la nuit seule pouvait les s6parer.
Mais les bonnes choses ne peuvent continue tou-
jours; etant devenus hommes, les deux amis furent
forces de se soumettre a une separation. Ibrahim
partit pour Bagdade, ou il allait servir de page au
Pacha de la province ; tandis que Yorghi restait is
Constantinople, oht il succtda enfin a son pere dans
la boulangerie. La, il s' faisait toujours de nou-
veaux amis; ses poids etaient toujours justes, sa
measure exacte; sa bont6 6tait sans limits, et sa
pi6et faisait 1'admiration de tout le monde. II se
maria enfin; et quand Dieu lui donna des enfants,
il les instruisit dans les mimes principles de probity
et de justice. Et il pensait toujours a. son ami ab-
sent; car avant de se separer, ils s'ktaient jurt une
amitie eternelle, se promettant que celui qui par-
viendrait le premier aux richesses et au pouvoir, se
souviendrait de l'autre pour l'aider de tous les
Ce fut donc une grande surprise aux voisins et a
Yorghi lui-mime quand il
se vit un jour appeler par
deux officers, pour com-
paraitre devant le Grand
Vizir. En ce temps-li,
S --_ un pareil appel indiquait
g.1n*ralement quelque ac-
;..- M' '. cusation de crime et une
S'- .' prompted punition; et crai-
gnant quelque malheur ter-
r.r- -- rible, Yorghi supplia les
officers de lui expliquer le
S --sujet de l'appel.
S; Quel est mon crime?"
leur dit-il; "jamais je n'ai
- -- fait de mal a personnel;
tous les voisins en sont
Mais les officers repon-
dirent qu'ils n'en savaient
rien, et qu'ils obeissaient
seulement aux ordres du
Vizir. Yorghi se vit donc
force les suivre au milieu d'une foule de ses
voisins qui pleuraient ses malheurs tout en mau-
dissant les officers inexorables.
Enfin, ils arrivirent au palais et se presentirent
devant le Grand Vizir. Celui-ci regard Yorghi
fixement: puis avec un sanglot a peine supprim6
et les larmes aux yeux, il dit au pauvre boulanger
qui n'avait pas encore level la tte :
Me connais-tu ? "
Non," r6pondit celui-ci.
Mais tu avais autrefois un ami intime nomme
Ibrahim, n'est-ce pas ? "
A ce nom, Yorghi leva les yeux, regard le Vizir
un moment,-et reconnut son ancien ami C'6tait
We shall be glad to see translations of this story from our readers who are studying French. Translations, to be credited, must reach us
by April toth.
A TRAINING-SCHOOL FOR SAILORS.
bien lui; de page chez un Pacha, il 6tait devenu
Grand Vizir a force d'integrit6 et de merite. II
se jeta dans les bras de Yorghi, le serra sur son
coeur; puis apres l'avoir embrass6 longtemps, au
grand 6tonnement de la cour, il lui ordonna de
faire venir sa femme et ses enfants au palais pour
y faire leur demeure, "puisque," lui dit-il, "je te
fais mon banquier. Maintenant tu seras riche
comme tu as toujours merite de l'6tre."
Voilk donc notre jeune marchand de tabac de-
venu premier ministry, et notre boulanger pre-
mier banquier de 1'empire,-position ot il montra
toujours la mime fidelity que dans son petit
commerce de boulanger, et dans laquelle il con-
tinua jusqu'a sa mort.
Mais," direz-vous, qu'a a faire toute cette
histoire avec notre grande maison? Beaucoup,
mes amis; cet immense bAtiment, si laid a l'ex-
terieur, mais par6 d'une splendeur toute orientale
a l'int6rieur, fut un des trois palais bAtis par notre
boulanger-banquier. Ce vaste edifice, construit sur
le c6t6 d'une colline, est haut de six stages d'un
c6t ; de l'autre, il n'en a que trois. La date que
l'on voit sur la facade est celle de son achievement;
elle est en Grec, et signifie le 17 Mars 1799. Elle
est maintenant bien employee, comme ecole de
demoiselles, par les diaconnesses Prussiennes. Es-
perons qu'elle servira longtemps de t6moignage a
l'honnetet6 et a la fid6lit6 d'un marchand de tabac
Turc, et de son ami, le boulanger Grec.
A TRAINING-SCHOOL FOR SAILORS.
BY WILLIAM H. RIDING.
ON a drenching day, several years ago, I stood
on the great landing-stage at Liverpool, waiting
for a steamer then due in port. An English iron-
clad lay in the stream, under sailing orders, and
white wreaths of vapor arose in the moist atmos-
phere from her short, thick funnel. Her black lines
loomed heavily through the mist, dwarfing the
other vessels moored near her. Her form seemed
so ponderous, indeed, that it was difficult to think
of her as a floating thing. An active little tender
occasionally ran between her and the shore, and a
number of men-sailors in blue jackets and soldiers
in red--were gathered in a knot, waiting to be taken
on board. Among them was a slender lad, not
older than fourteen years, dressed in the brand new
uniform of an English middy. A lady with a sad
face was bidding him good-by. The little fellow
was inclined to cry, but between the tears he looked
proudly at the bright gilt lace on his coat, and
smiled as he saw that some one noticed it.
I pitied him in the depths of my heart. It was
plain that he had never been to sea before, and
that his experiences had always been tempered by
his mother's kindness. He had come from a quiet
country home. Perhaps he had not even tasted
salt air before; and yet he was embarking in a
profession of which he was almost completely ignor-
ant,-a profession requiring more endurance than
any other. An hour later he would be on board
the iron-clad, and assigned, with very little prepar-
ation, to trivial duties, in the intervals of which he
would be expected to learn the more difficult ones,
and to qualify himself for a higher position.
He knew nothing of the different parts of a vessel
and their names, nothing about the science of navi-
gation, not as much, in fact, as the small boy who
cleaned the cannon. If his nature was sensitive,
he would be exposed to heart-breaking mortifica-
tions. His superiors would order him to do things
which he could not understand, and when he failed
he would be punished. Starting out in life, he
knew nothing of the path before him, and could
A TRAINING-SCHOOL FOR SAILORS.
only find his way by crude and slow methods.
What wonder if he stumbled and broke down,
sick and weary-hearted ?
This is one of the things we do better in America.
Here we have a school for training midshipmen,
where raw lads are put through a mill and brought
out fitted for their future duties. As far as prac-
ticable, they are taught everything that can make
a naval officer efficient and creditable to his country,
THE NAVAL ACADEMY AT ANNAPOLIS.
-not only those duties that he must do himself, but
also those to be done by the menwho are under
him. The school is called the Naval Academy of
the United States. It is situated at Annapolis, in
the State of Maryland, on the banks of the pretty
river Severn. In the Summer it is one of the love-
liest places you can imagine. Velvet-like lawns
reach upward from the water's edge, and the white
buildings of the Academy are seen through leafy
avenues of trees and shrubs. The opposite bank
of the stream is high and wooded; farther down
you can see the broader waters of Chesapeake Bay,
into which the Severn pours itself, and at the wharf
several war vessels attached to the Academy are
Two hundred and sixty-two young men are in
training here for service in the United States navy.
Meantime they rank as cadet-midshipmen. I have
been warned not to call them boys, or lads, or
"middies." They are gentlemen, or men, and
will not answer to any other title. On all matters
of etiquette, indeed, they are very strict, and will
tolerate no affront.
Candidates for admission to the Academy are
nominated by Congressmen, one from each Con-
gressional district, one from the District of Colum-
bia, and one from each Territory. Twice a year
an examination of candidates to fill vacancies is
held. They must be between fourteen and sixteen
years of age; sound in body and mind, and well
versed in reading, writing, spelling, arithmetic,
geography and English grammar. Those who
pass are appointed as cadet-midshipmen, and are
repaid the cost of traveling from their homes to
Annapolis, and included on the pay-roll of the navy
with $500 a year salary to their credit. We don't
think more liberal treatment could be asked for.
Apprentices in other professions pay large sums in
the first years of their service; the cadets are taught
and paid for learning.
They sign articles, binding themselves to serve
in the navy for eight years, which includes the time
spent at the Academy, and deposit two
hundred dollars each for an outfit and text-
books. Then behold the greenhorns trans-
formed They come in the slouchy clothes
of country lads, looking timid and dull.
V -A Their commissions put fresh life into them,,
TI and the tailor turns them out for duty in a
--- uniform of the bluest of navy-blue cloth.
The jackets are double-breasted, and have
a row of nine bright gilt buttons on each
S.-- side; more gilt buttons on the cuffs; a
band of gold lace around the collars, which
have also two anchors embroidered upon
them in gold thread. The caps, too, are
made of blue cloth, and have sharp, pol-
ished leather visors, an anchor embroidered in gold
and a gold cord. The trousers are made of the-
whitest duck. When we have seen the cadets thus
arrayed, we can understand the sentiment that
prompts them to feel aggrieved when they are not
called officers and gentlemen.
They assemble at bugle-call for their first dress
parade. All are provided with rifles, and a line is
formed on the lawn in front of the main building.
The splendid band plays a lively quick-step as the
line is formed, and the companies are led through
the movements of military drill. They acquit
themselves admirably; march, halt, shoulder arms,
present and fire with the steadiness of a veteran
corps. It is a very pretty sight, and an inspiriting-
one, but the greenhorns soon learn that there are
harder duties, and that the life before them in the
Academy is not too full of play and prettiness.
Unless the new-comer is in earnest, and has plenty
of courage, I am afraid he will wish himself home-
again before he has served many days. The course
of studies for each of the four classes occupies the
greater part of the time. A loafer has no chance.
The reveille is sounded at six in the morning,
and between then and ten P. M.-bed-time-the
students have not much more than two hours for
themselves. Some of the studies are recreations,
to be sure, but they are all compulsory, and we
suspect they are not the more enjoyed on that ac-
count. Gymnastics, sword practice, rowing, sail-
ing, dancing and swimming are among them.
The midshipmen are berthed two in a room on,
the "upper deck" of the main building. The
A TRAINING-SCHOOL FOR SAILORS.
rooms are small and neat, furnished with two camp
bedsteads, a wardrobe, two chairs, a small table
and washing utensils. We were disappointed at
the absence of even the simplest decorations in
them, as we had expected to find them looking like
cosey cabins, with more space and comforts than
.could be had on board a ship. One room is ex-
actly the same as the other; without pictures on
the walls, or vases of flowers on the table, or shelves
loaded with books of adventure and travel, or, in
fact, any of the natty little odds and ends that a boy
usually amasses in his own sanctum.
We asked why?
Dr. Philip Lansdale, the Surgeon-in-Chief, told
us in answer that it was according to the rules of
the Academy. Formerly the midshipmen were
allowed to decorate their rooms, and the wealthier
ones turned their quarters into miniature drawing-
rooms, filling them with expensive furniture,
pianos, richly-bound books, and all the luxuries
of home. The rooms of the poorer students
looked so shabby and dismal in comparison, that
envy and uncharitableness cropped out in many a
heart, and to avoid this evil the seemingly harsh
of mothers and sisters on the walls, which it does
not. But they are martinets at the Academy, and
among their other lessons the members are taught
to endure discipline.
In most of the rooms the law is evaded, but
not violated. The wardrobes are supplied to con-
tain clothes, and the clothes are stowed away in
the smallest possible compass, leaving considerable
space for other things. So we found pictures hung
in the inside, and ornaments of various kinds
ranged on little shelves,-sometimes a case of
butterflies, a model ship, a model marine engine,
a musical instrument, or a magnificent postage-
The etiquette between the classes is exacting,
and is closely observed. A third or fourth class-
man is not allowed to sit down until all the first and
second class-men are seated. Frequently it hap-
pens that the first class-man is a bit of a fellow
scarcely four feet high, while the fourth class-man
stands six feet, and has a manly pair of side-
whiskers. The difference in stature and age
matters not, and the great fellow has to salute the
mite and treat him with all respect due to a supe-
GUNNERY EXERCISE ON BOARD THE PRACTICE-SHIP.
law was passed that all rooms should be furnished rior officer. Sometimes it seems a little absurd,
in the plainest and most uniform fashion. Perhaps but if the observance were neglected there would
Sit would be better if the law was not quite so strict, be a terrible row, and the fourth class-man would
or if it gave permission to hang the photographs be taken in hand by the fellows of the first, and
A TRAINING-SCHOOL FOR SAILORS.
punished. Hazing" is forbidden, and any mid-
shipmen found guilty of it are dismissed instantly,
as they deserve to be.
There was one occasion when the fourth class-
men united in a refusal to submit to the second
class. A pitched battle was fought, and the
tyrants were beaten, and for the rest of the year
they had to treat the victors as equals. But such
an occurrence is rare, and the juniors submit them-
selves to the advanced classes with very good grace.
To our mind, some of the practices do not seem
fair. A mischievous youngster may select an over-
grown greenhorn and mount him on his dressing-
table and force him to sing, while he-the little
monster !-tilts himself in a chair, and compla-
cently strokes the place where the moustache ought
to be. Why can't the big fellow resist ? Simply
because if he did his tormentor would tell the first
class, and the first class would punch him.
Foolish and heartless practical joking was once
too common in the Academy, but it has been almost
entirely done away with. One custom remains,
and that is one of the most harmless, When a
new-comer has been notably impudent to his elders,
or is unusually "green," he is honored with an
"undress parade." At taps," the drum-beat
ordering all to bed, the lights are put out, and the
great building is as silent as the cloister of a church
at midnight. The officers retire, and everything
is supposed to be snug until daybreak. But soon
one of the bedroom doors turns silently upon its
hinges, and a midshipman, in the breeziest, whitest
and lightest dress, steals into the corridor, and
utters an almost inaudible signal. One door after
another is quietly opened, until the long row is
filled with ghostly young gentlemen, all of them
dressed in the same fluttering white. There are
low whisperings and a waving of arms; some
dreadful conspiracy is hatching.
From one room alone only one comes forth, and
the white brigade marches in an orderly file and
brings out the second occupant. It happens to be
the offensive new-comer, who shivers in the cold,
while his companions push him rudely frcm side to
side and poke him in the ribs.
A rope with a loop in it is found, and a horrible
thought enters the greenhorn's mind. He implores
mercy, and he struggles in vain. The loop is
slipped over his head. The others form in march-
ing order, and a very small boy in the rear leads
the prisoner by the rope. The battalion advances
along the corridor. All the maneuvers of a full-
dress parade are performed in the gravest manner.
The corners where the cold is the greatest are
sought, and the greenhorn is thrust into them.
Frightened and shivering, he is at last led to his
own room and imprisoned in his wardrobe, with
orders to sing a comic ditty. The door is closed
upon him, and while he plaintively chants Cheer,
Boys, Cheer," to the accompaniment of his chatter-
ing teeth, one of his judges grinds at the handle of
a visionary organ. He is then put to bed, with the
benedictions of his visitors, and the white robes.
flutter awhile longer before they vanish, and the
corridor is again silent.
The midshipmen have college songs and a slang
of their own. The songs are not wonders in the
way of composition, but they speak eloquently
enough of the longings of a middy's heart.
One of the chief aims of the officers is to impress
the midshipmen with a sense of responsibility, and
they are not treated as boys, but as men of honor.
All the orders issued by the admiral speak of them
as gentlemen and officers. These orders, by the
by, are models of good sense, and appeal to the
best stuff in a lad. Is it manly, is it generous, is it
honest? These are the questions that are put to
the wrong-doer, and he is shown the error of his
ways by the light within himself, that only needs
stirring to burn more brightly. Our sins shown to
us by the light of others are not so easily cast out.
A lad who offends is taught how to see the fact,
and when he has seen it he is sorry, and ready to
expiate. I wish you to clearly understand what
the principle is, and will state it in another way.
A midshipman commits an offense; it is dis-
covered; he is asked if it is honest; he refers to
his own conscience, and conscience answers that it
is not. If he was immediately told by a second
person that it was not honest, and was scolded, his
vexation might make him obstinate, and his light
would be put out.
The superintendent is one of our naval heroes.
He was victor in the famous fight between the
"Monitor" and the "Merrimack." You know
the story of how the Confederate monitor Merri-
mack steamed from Norfolk on the 8th of March,
1862, and engaged the United States vessels
"Congress" and "Cumberland." The Merri-
mack" was built of iron, and easily sunk her
wooden adversaries. She then turned up the
Elizabeth," and people feared that she would
also destroy the Roanoke and the Minnesota."
But in the nick of time the Monitor" arrivec,
and the Monitor" was a match for her. The
engagement was fierce and hot for four hours. The
cannon-balls and shells rattled in shrill music on
the iron plates of the two vessels. The water was
plowed by monstrous balls aimed at the vital
parts below the water-line. It was one of the most
exciting battles in all the war. The two flags-
bonny blue and "star-spangled "-streamed
defiance at one another for those four long hours ;
but the Merrimack could not much longer
A TRAINING-SCHOOL FOR SAILORS.
endure. The Monitor's" incessant fire was
answered slowly and unsteadily, and soon after-
ward the Merrimack" was vanquished.
The commander of the Monitor on that brave
day was John L. Worden, now an Admiral, and
Superintendent of the Naval Academy. He .is a
gruff old sailor, frank in his bearing and kindly.
If personal association with a hero is inspiring, the
midshipmen think of me personally, but I insist
upon their showing all the respect my rank is en-
I think I told you, at the beginning, that all
things that can make a good sailor are taught at
the Academy. Old forecastle hands, at one time,
secretly looked down upon naval officers, and com-
plained that they knew nothing of the harder duties
INSTRUCTIONS IN THE SEAMANSHIP-ROOM.
midshipmen could not have a better master. He
carries with him the honor-marks of his famous
fight. One of his cheeks is tinged with the blue
stain of gunpowder, and the use of one of his eyes
is lost. During the fight he was at his post in the
turret, directing the movements of his vessel.
While he was looking through one of the sighting-
slits in the walls of the turret a shell exploded,
tearing his face dreadfully and throwing him sense-
less upon the deck.
He was a little angry when we visited Annapolis,
Some newspaper had published an article com-
plaining of lax discipline among the students. The
truth is that the Admiral is a very strict disciplina-
rian. He declared to us that if manners and atten-
tion to duty are not taught in the Academy, nothing
is taught. I do not care," he said, what the
of sea-life. If there was any truth in this once,
there is none now. As we crossed the grounds, we
met a detachment of midshipmen, dressed in com-
mon canvas suits, bound for the practice-ship.
Here they are instructed in all things that fall to
the lot of the poorest sailor.
Once a year, they are also sent out on a cruise,
and are required to handle the .light sails, yards
and masts, entirely by themselves. The instruc-
tions given to them at sea are purely practical, and
are such as a lad could only learn on board an
ordinary vessel in many years of experience. They
are taught what to do in fair and foul weather, in
times of peace and times of war, and how to do it.
Gunnery-practice and torpedo-practice are included
in the higher branches of seamanship and naviga-
tion (see picture, page 289). Each midshipman is
A TRAINING-SCHOOL FOR SAILORS.
given an opportunity to see all the workings of a
ship. and to study them, and afterward describe
them in a log-book to be examined by his superior
The instructions in seamanship given on the
voyage, however, are only supplementary to those
Among the buildings of the Academy is one
called the seamanship-room. It is not a bit like a
common school-room, with maps, charts and
globes, and illuminated texts for ornaments. We
should think that anyone who has a real taste for
the sea would find abundant pleasure in it. There
are beautiful models of nearly every kind of vessel
afloat, from a simple sloop to a modern turret-ship.
Shelf after shelf is filled with the smaller ones, and
in the center of the room are others with masts
reaching almost to the ceiling. On the walls there
are also some curious old prints and oil-paintings
of famous sea-fights. One of the good qualities of
the models is that they all will work, just as though
they were full-sized.
The second class was. under examination while
we stood by. One of the largest model frigates
had all her canvas set, and was supposed to be
bowling along with a fair wind. The midshipmen
stood around her, with the instructor at the head.
Some of them were dull, no doubt, and could not
forget the walls of the room. But others were so
earnest that they imagined themselves on board a
real frigate, plowing a wild,. gray sea, and plunging
and rolling in real waves. Suddenly the wind was
supposed to fall,-it had been blowing a tempest
in the minds of those brighter fellows,-but after a
few moments it was roaring again in a terrific
The instructor gave the word to reduce sail.
There was a creaking of blocks, spars and running
rigging, skillfully worked by nimble fingers. The
vessel ran more steadily, and a short time afterward
the wind fell to a moderate breeze, blowing on the
starboard quarter. The instructor next gave the
alarm, Man overboard One of the midship-
men instantly described what was to be done, suit-
ing the action to the word, bringing the ship
around, lowering boats, and heaving to. We sup-
posed the unfortunate was saved, for the ship re-
sumed and followed her course without interrup-
tion, until orders were given to shorten sail, that
the depth of water in which she was sailing might
She was now nearing her destination. A boat
was lowered and manned, under directions given in
a clear, unhesitating voice by one midshipman in
command. Various preparations were made for
entering port; sails were furled and anchors cast.
In the squall the vessel's bottom was damaged.
How could it be repaired ? There was no dry dock in
the port on which she could be placed. The mid-
dies' wits were taxed to solve the difficulty. It was
an urgent case, and the instructor was impatient.
One small fellow came forward and gave orders
that all the armament be transferred to the shore
to lighten the vessel; she was also stripped of part
of her rigging; massive braces were put against
her sides; and then, with some ponderous tackle,
she was slowly hauled over against the wharf, until
she was almost on the beam-ends, and the plating
of her bottom could be plainly seen. The task
was one requiring great ingenuity and caution, and
when it was successfully done the middy received a
mark of honor.
A war broke out. The midshipmen had now to
manage a miniature fleet instead of one vessel.
The instructor stated the movements of the enemy,
and the midshipmen described the tactics necessary
to defeat them. Line of battle was formed, the
fleet being in a double column. The enemy
changed position, and the vessels were next ranged
in a single column. So every possible maneuver
was illustrated, and all the cunning of the enemy
checkmated, our men coming out victorious with
The gunnery-room is scarcely less interesting
than the seamanship-room. Here the gradual im-
provement in small-arms is shown by many speci-
mens of each kind, from the old-fashioned match-
lock to the needle and Remington guns. Among
other curiosities is a bronze cannon, brought over
by Cortez in the conquest of Mexico. The breech-
loader was supposed to be a new invention, but the
principle exists in this old relic of earlier centuries.
Side by side with it is the mitrailleuse, the latest
weapon invented, about which you may have read
in accounts of the Franco-Prussian war. It has a
great number of barrels, which revolve and pour
out showers of bullets. Elsewhere in the room,
which is overcrowded, are models of all sorts of
nautical artillery, including shells, hand-grenades,
and torpedoes. At every turn the visitor takes
he is confronted by some death-dealing instru-
ment. A collection of old trophy flags, blood-
stained, singed with gunpowder, rent and riven,
are festooned on the wall at one end. Among
them are the British colors captured during the
war of 1812, including those of the "Guerriere,"
captured by the Constitution," and the famous
flag that Lawrence flew in the battle between the
" Chesapeake" and Shannon," bearing nothing
but the brave words: "Don't give up the ship."
That noble old craft, the Constitution," which
fought so many immortal battles in her long life,
was attached to the Academy until within a few
days of our visit. I think every boy must have
A TRAINING-SCHOOL FOR SAILORS.
felt a little sentiment in looking at her as she de-
parted. Her timbers were falling apart with age ;
the beams were loose in their sockets, but the old
war-ship was still fair to see, and substantial enough,
as far as you or I could judge. As I write she
lies quietly at the Philadelphia Navy Yard, await-
ing final orders; and we can fancy the waves lap-
ping more softly around her for the grand service
she has done.
The engine of a steamer is in charge of an en-
gineer, who is inferior to the captain in position,
and subject to his orders. Unfortunately, a great
many captains know nothing about marine en-
gineering, and have to depend entirely on the
word of their inferiors. The Academy means to
better this state of affairs,
and, accordingly, all stu-
dents are instructed so
far in the construction
and working of marine 'i ':
engines as to enable them ,
to see for themselves, .
when they command a -.
ship, whether or not the -:
engineers are doing their &Z "''
work properly. There is I'\. '
also a special class of
cadet- engineers in the .
Academy, who are taught
the details of these things. '
For their use a steam-
room is provided, fitted
with as many valuable
models as the seamanship
department. The sub-
jects could not be taught
or learned by text-books
merely, and the students
have the things about
which they are lectured
placed under their eyes. /
Among other appli-
ances, there is a full-sized
marine engine in perfect
working order. When
the class assembles, and
steam is up, the students
themselves are stationed at different parts of the
immense machine. The instructor gives the word,
"Turn ahead, full speed and to the music of
the shafts and wheels he discourses in a sensible
way on the cylinders, boilers, and tiny brass and
steel things that have power to propel a large ves-
sel at the rate of fourteen miles an hour.
I cannot even mention all the subjects that are
taught, but I can say that no study that will not be
of certain service is given to the students. They
are taught international law, because some day
they may have to sit as judges on the high seas; they
are taught astronomy, because the stars are the
sailor's most faithful guides; they are taught
climatology (the science of climates), because that
will show them how to save the lives of their crews
in the unhealthy countries they may have to visit;
and they are taught, above all, to be gentlemen,
because they must do their share in sustaining the
honor of America.
Nor can I mention all their amusements. They
have a hop once a month, and a grand ball once a
year. They have boat-clubs and ball-clubs. They
also have a barber, to whom the smoothest-faced
youngsters submit themselves with the importance
of bearded men; and twice a day they have a de-
livery of letters from home and- friends. The post-
master sits at a little desk in the center of one of
the corridors, and the boys crowd around him ex-
citedly until every scrap of paper has been surren-
dered. As they hurry to their rooms and to
secluded spots in the grounds to read the tidings,
you and I will leave them to their pleasure.
LITTLE GRETCHEN AND HER KID.
LITTLE GRETCHEN AND HER KID.
SOMEWHERE in good King John's little realm of
Saxony, not far from the Court city, stands the
humble cottage of good Hans Steinberg, with great
high gables, red-tiled roof, and deep-set windows,
after the usual fashion of all North-German peasant
Once Hans was gamekeeper in the royal pre-
serves of M-, a fact he was very fond of telling,
and adding, too, that now he owned his game him-
self-which meant, poor soul! a drove of goats.
These, and the little red-roofed cottage, gave the
happy Hans, and his good frau, a most affluent old
age-while the very pride of their eyes, and the joy
of their hearts, was little Gretchen, their grand-
child, who, for five years of her life-all the years
in fact of her motherless babyhood-had been the
sunshine of their simple home. Such a simple
home as it was, too-only two rooms under all that
spread of roof; and such a tidy, thrifty look as those
two rooms had, is scarcely to be found outside of
the dear "Vaterland." Indeed, when the day
comes in which the good Frau Steinberg fails to
scrub with her own hands the smooth tiles of her
kitchen floor, it will be the day when those honest,
hard-working hands will be through with work,
and life as well.
And Hans was a model goat-herd, too, in his
way, and kept his little flock as carefully and ten-
derly as we would a pet colt, housing, feeding, and
cleaning them, as no other goat-herd ever did.
He had a name, too, for every goat, taken from
the baptismal records of the royal house-one was
"Princess Hedwig; and one, Countess Olga; "
another, "Duchess Amelia," and so on; all of
which no one ever remembered but Hans and
Gretchen, and the knowing little goats themselves.
During the grazing season, Hans always took his
little flock to some far-off hill-side for a half-day or
so, with his old dog, Wurst, to help herd them till
they could get their fill of tender nippings. And
sometimes, when the skies and sunshine and green
fields were very tempting, old Hans would yield to
the little Gretchen's earnest pleading, and mount
her upon his great strong shoulders, and then it
was a merry party indeed that went off to the green
One lovely summer morning old Hans started
out with his shaggy flock for the grazing grounds,
with little Gretchen on her high perch, much to
Wurst's delight. Such a happy little girl as she
was, too, for her own pet Lillie was to go with her-
dear, snow-white Lillie-a little kid that old Hans
had discovered one bitter morning nearly frozen to
death in a neighboring forest. The kind old
man had wrapped the shivering foundling in his
great coat and brought it home to Gretchen. And
now she was a lusty, frolicsome kid, able to hold
her own with the best of them-only she did like
the Steinberg family so much better than her own
tribe, and quite forgot that well-regulated little
goaties did n't sleep in houses on red cushions, and
eat out of dishes, and wear ribbons and bells on
their necks! And so Miss Lillie put on a great
many airs, and would not stay with the "common
herd," which quite disgusted old Hans when once
he took her with the others for their nibblings-for
she would go off by herself and give Wurst a deal
of trouble. But on this day Gretchen begged so
heartily for permission to take her pet along, and
promised to watch her all the time, that of course
Lillie went. Wurst objected decidedly; he did not
want any self-willed, frisky kids in his charge, to
give him chase, and then divide with him his din-
ner; but he couldn't help himself, poor doggie!
and so they all started off together.
They could not have found a lovelier spot than
that shady hill-side and fresh green lawn, and the
dear little bubbling brook that came down with a
touch of snow yet in its waters. Gretchen doused
her little curly pate right into the cool rushing
water, and then, in her dripping locks, scampered
off with Wurst and Lillie. How they did romp
and play! Old Hans laughed till his jolly German
sides ached, and the matronly goats looked on in
mild-eyed wonder. Then Gretchen gathered
bunches of white daisies ; she stuck them all
through Wurst's shaggy coat, made a wreath for
herself, and one for Lillie, and lo it was dinner-
It was a long while after they had emptied the
well-stuffed basket, which the good Frau had filled
for them (not forgetting a large, special piece for
Wurst), that Gretchen, having had all the play
she wanted, sat down under a spreading tree, just
to rest a minute, making Lillie lie down beside
her. But how long a minute that was the weary
little girl never knew, for she fell fast asleep,
with one little brown hand thrown out on Lillie's
white neck, and the other tucked under her own
ruddy cheek. How she did sleep And for a
while the kid seemed to think it a very good
arrangement-but, alas kids will be frisky, and
LITTLE GRETCHEN AND HER KID.
will not indulge in afternoon naps; so she slipped
away from the little hand that would keep so
strangely quiet, and bounded off up the hill!
When Gretchen opened her eyes, her grandfather
was just taking her up in his arms, and it was time
to go home. There was a heavy storm coming
up, he said, and they must hurry; the goats were
already started, and Wurst was driving them up
pretty lively, for he knew a thing or two about get-
ting home quick when he wanted to. All this,
and more, the jolly old Hans told
the half-dazed little girl in his arms i
while walking across the fields. But
they had not gone very far, when ,
Gretchen gave a piteous cry-where i
was Lillie ? In the hurry of starting,
Hans had forgotten her, and poor little ,
Gretchen was too sleepy to miss her
pet. What was to be done? The $''
storm was close upon them, and even
if Hans had been alone, he would
hardly have risked a search in the face
of such a threatening sky; but, with
dear little Gretchen to care for, of
course he could not go back. No, he
would not turn, though the child
pleaded and sobbed quite heart-
broken, and his tender old eyes filled
with tears as fast as hers. So he tried
to comfort her. "Lillie knew the way
home herself," he said; "perhaps
had gone there already, naughty kid!
or, if not, he would go early in the
morning and find her; besides, she
was a stout, hearty little kid now,
and one night out would not hurt
So Gretchen was quiet at last, if not *
quite satisfied. But as they neared .
home, and were met by the anxious
Frau in the door-way, poor Gretchen's last hope
failed her, for Lillie was not there !
C S *
It was midnight in good Hans Steinberg's cot-
tage, and the furious storm of that afternoon had
long since passed, leaving a gloriotis sky, with a
radiant moon which now shone brightly through
the little window, and lay like a patch of silver on
the rude floor. The outer door was ajar, and old
Wurst lay curled up on his bed near by, fast asleep.
But what was the vision that suddenly appeared on
the threshold as bright and noiseless as the rays
themselves !-though, for all that, Wurst heard the
soft footfall, and looked up in wide-eyed surprise !
What was it but a little child robed in white, with
a halo of golden curls about her head, with little
bare feet that stepped out into the moonlight, while
one beseeching little hand beckoned the dog to fol-
low! Such a sight as the moon saw that night,
and grew brighter as she looked!-for down the
lonely, silent path, went the little vision, with one
arm around the dog's great shaggy neck, fearless
and confiding. On and on toward the moonlit
hill-side, looking with eager eyes, and fairly listen-
ing to the silence,-past fallen trees, past the little
brooklet that had bubbled so merrily in the morn-
ing, and was now groaning under the weight of its
"GRETCHEN STEPS OUT INTO THE MOONLIGHT."
burdens; on, more than half-way to the hill-side,
when, suddenly, there came a faint sound on the
breathless stillness-a tinkle of a little bell-and the
baby-feet stood still, and old Wurst pricked up his
knowing ears. Then it came again, and with it a
plaintive little bleat! The next minute Wurst was
barking vigorously and pawing with all his might
near an old thicket of trees which the storm had
broken into brush-wood, and there lay the poor
little kid in the midst of the rubbish utterly unable
to extricate herself.
Lillie struggled wildly and gave one joyous bleat
as she recognized her little mistress, and then
waited, still and patient, perfectly sure of deliver-
ance since Wurst's great paws dug so frantically
the earth and broken roots, and the dear little
hands of the white-robed angel tugged so royally
THE WAR OF THE RATS AND MICE.
at the twisted branches. And thus was she finally
The moonlight still lay on the polished floor of
the Steinberg cottage, when a vision broke on the
dreams of the slumbering inmates, and a child's
glad voice rang through the silent house: 0,
grandpa! I've found her! me and Wurst have
found her my dear little Lillie And full in the
open door-way, with the moonlight falling softly all
around her, brightening the halo of her golden
curls, the grand old dog standing by her side, knelt
the little Gretchen with her arms about the kid,
kissing the tufted white head at every word. The
old couple looked for a moment wonderingly at the
vision, and reverently bowed their heads, for they
thought they saw the Christ-child !
THE WAR OF THE RATS AND
(Almost a Fairy Tale.)
BY GEORGE W. RANCK.
THE MOUSE-KING MOUNTS HIS STEED.
FAR back within an age remote,
Which common history fails to note,
When dogs could talk, and pigs could sing,
And frogs obeyed a wooden king,
There lived a tribe of rats so mean,
That such a set was never seen.
For during all the livelong day
They fought and quarreled in the hay,
And then at night they robbed the mice,
Who always were so kind and nice.
They stole their Bread, they stole their meat,
And all the jam they had to eat;
They gobbled up their pies and cake,
And everything the mice could bake;
They stuffed themselves with good, fresh meal,
And ruined all they could not steal;
They slapped their long tails in the butter
Until they made a frightful splutter;
Then, sleek and fine in coats of silk,
They swam about in buttermilk.
They ate up everything they found,
And flung the plates upon the ground.
And catching three mice by their tails,
They drowned them in the water-pails;"
Then seeing it was morning light,
They scampered home with all their might.
THE RATS AND MICE.
The mouse-tribe, living far and near,
At once this awful thing did hear,
And all declared, with cries of rage,
A war against the rats they'd wage.
The mouse-king blew a trumpet blast,
And soon the mice came thick and fast
From every place, in every manner,
The rats had eaten so much jam,
So many pies and so much ham,
And were so fat and sick and swollen
With all the good things they had stolen
That they could neither fight nor run;
And so the mice the battle won.
They threw up rat-fur in the air;
THE TWO KINGS MEET IN BATTLE.
And crowded round the royal banner.
Each had a sword, a bow and arrow;
Each felt as brave as any sparrow,
And promised, in the coming fight,
To die or put the rats to flight.
The king put on a coat of mail,
And tied a bow-knot to his tail;
He wore a pistol by his side,
And on a bull-frog he did ride.
"March on!" he cried. And, hot and thick,
His army rushed, in "double quick."
And hardly one short hour had waned,
Before the ranks the rat-camp gained,
With sounding drum and screaming fife,
Enough to raise the dead to life.
The rats, awakened by the clatter,
Rushed out to see what was the matter,
When down the whole mouse-army flew,
And many thieving rats it slew.
The mice hurrahed, th'e rats they squealed,
And soon the dreadful battle-field "
Was blue with smoke and red with fire,
And filled with blood and savage ire.
They piled up rat-tails everywhere;
And slaughtered rats bestrewed the ground
For ten or twenty miles around.
The rat-king galloped from the field
When all the rest were forced to yield;
But though he still retained his skin,
He nearly fainted with chagrin,
To think that in that bloody tide
So many of his rats had died.
Fierce anger blazed within his breast;
He would not stop to eat or rest;
But spurring up his fiery steed,
He seized a sharp and trusty reed-
Then, wildly shouting, rushed like hail
To cut off little mouse-king's tail.
The mouse-king's face turned red with passion
To see a rat come in such fashion,
For he had just that minute said
That every thieving rat was dead.
The rat was scared, and tried to run,
And vowed that he was just in fun;
But nought could quell the mouse-king's fury,-
He cared not then for judge or jury;
THE WAR OF
THE WAR OF THE RATS AND MICE.
And with his sharp and quivering spear,
He pierced the rat right through the ear.
The rat fell backward in the clover,
Down which their little children slid.
And after that eventful day
The mice in peace and joy could play,
"DOWN WHICH THEIR LITTLE CHILDREN SLID."
Kicked up his legs, and all was over.
The mice, with loud and joyful tones,
Now gathered all the bad rats' bones,
And with them built a pyramid,
For now no wicked rats could steal
Their cakes and jam and pies and meal,
Nor catch them by their little tails,
And drown them in the water-pails.
WHY WALTER CHANGED HIS MIND.
WHY WALTER CHANGED HIS MIND.
BY HENRIETTA H. HOLDICH.
MAMMA, Nurse Grant says you have asked
Kitty Lennox to spend the summer with us, and
that she is coming. Have you, mamma? Is it
Walter had rushed, or rather tumbled, through
the low window into the room where his mother
was sitting. The first shock of the horrible intelli-
gence was fresh upon him. His yellow hair fairly
bristled under the brim of his sun-burned hat, his
blue eyes flashed and his cheeks were like peonies.
Mrs. Morgan looked up.
"Hadn't you better take off your hat, in the
house, Walter?" she said. "Yes; Kitty Lennox
is coming next Wednesday to stay for two months,
and I hope you will be kind to her."
Kind to her !" exclaimed Walter. But I hate
girls, mamma; you know I do! and now you 've
gone and asked her for the whole of my vacation,
and I think it's a shame! I do so! What am I
going to do with her?"
I hope at least you will be polite to her," said
Mrs. Morgan, quietly.
, Polite to her !" ejaculated Walter, with wither-
ing scorn. "I don't want to be polite to her.
What's the use ? Girls are no good. They can't
think of anything but their clothes and complex-
ions. She '11 be afraid to do anything for fear of
getting tanned, or tearing her dress. And she '11
want me to take her out in my boat, and then
she '11 squeal if the wind blows."
"Girls are no good!" echoed Willy, who, find-
ing his legs too short for Walter's favorite mode of
entrance, had trotted round to the door, and now
stood on the threshold, a baby likeness of Walter,
whom he admired and imitated to the best of his
ability. "What's the good of girls? They can't
row, or run, or climb. They can't luff, or jib, or
haul in a sheet. They don't know the difference
between a schooner and a brig."
Willy was a little, delicate-looking boy. Though
he was eight years old he looked no more than
five, and his baby swagger was so ludicrous that
sturdy twelve-year-old Walter burst out laughing.
Just hear Willy, mamma! He thinks he 's
every bit as big as papa! But what did you ask
Kitty to come here for ?"
He spoke more mildly now, for his laugh had
done him good.
"Kitty's mamma has been very ill," replied
Mrs. Morgan, "and is obliged to go to Europe for
her health. Mr. Lennox is going too, and they
don't know what to do with Kitty until he comes
back. I asked her to come here, because Mrs.
Lennox is a very dear friend of mine, and I am
glad to do anything I can for her. And I hope my
boys will remember that they are little gentlemen,
and that gentlemen are always polite to ladies."
Walter grumbled still, but promised reluctantly:
I wont tease her, mamma, if that's what you
mean by being polite, and I'll take her out in my
boat sometimes; but I can't stay home the whole
time and give up all my fun for her."
I should be very sorry to have you give up all
your fun," said Mrs. Morgan, and I don't believe
Kitty will be at all anxious to have you stay at
home with her, if you are in no better humor than
you are now. I am sorry to find I have two such
selfish little boys. And now run away and 'luff'
and 'jib' to your heart's content, for I am busy."
Wednesday night came, and brought Kitty Len-
nox under the charge of Mr. Morgan, who had
gone to meet her. Walter hovered about the gate
as the carriage drove up, moved by a sheepish
curiosity which tortures would not have forced him
to acknowledge, while Willy circulated around him.
A little figure, crowned with a tangle of brown
curls, under which peered out two very red eyes
and a most woful little mouth, walked straight out
of the carriage into their mamma's arms, and then
vanished into the house, and that was all that
Walter and Willy saw of their new guest that
"Just like a girl; great cry-baby !" ejaculated
Willy in disgust. But Walter, with a reluctant
sense of justice, admitted:
"Well, I guess if our mamma had gone away
sick, and we knew we should n't see her again for a
year, may be we 'd cry too. I know you would,
any way, Willy. You blubbered hard enough
when she went to Aunt Fanny's for a week and left
"Pooh! said Willy, a little sheepish over the
recollection, but braving it out, "that was 'most a
year ago. I was only a baby then. Catch me
"Well," said Walter, turning away, "I s'pose
we 've got to be polite to her, for mamma says so;
but she is n't going in my boat, for all that, only
just when I choose."
Poor little Kitty had not the slightest desire to
go in his boat the next day, nor for many days
after that. She crept about the house, homesick
WHY WALTER CHANGED HIS MIND.
and miserable, with pale cheeks and red eyes,
weeping quietly in corners, refusing to eat, turning
away from offered books or toys. Walter really
felt sorry for her, in spite of his aversion to girls,
and after various futile attempts at cheering her,
one day in a fit of acute compassion he burst out
with a proffer of what he considered an unfailing
panacea for all woes:
I say, Kitty, I'll take you out in my boat
to-day, if you like."
Kitty was feeling a little less unhappy than usual
that morning. Her mamma had been gone a
week, and a week is a very long time for a healthy,
active little girl to stay miserable. Then, too,
everybody was so kind to her that she began to feel
herself an ungrateful little. creature. Mrs. Morgan
was as gentle and tender as her own mamma, and
Mr. Morgan hardly ever came home from the city
without some trifling present for her. They were
continually trying to amuse and interest her, and
even Walter had offered her all his prettiest
books and choicest treasures, and now, crowning
grace had proposed to take her out in his dear
boat. So Kitty sighed, and said, quite cheerfully
for her :
"Thank you, Walter; 1 think I should like to
go; and they trotted down to the little wharf below
the lawn, with Willy trudging sulkily in their wake.
For Willy was not yet reconciled to Kitty.
Walter's careless words had taken deep root in
that little heart; and Willy, of all the family, had
alone held himself aloof from the stranger, gazing
at her with contemptuous and critical eyes. Some-
times he ventured on a comment to Walter.
Is n't she a stupid! Just sitting round in
corners and crying all day long. If I was mamma
I 'd just leave her alone and not bother about her
as she does. I hate girls; don't you, Walter?
Stupid things "
You just shut up," retorted Walter, to Willy's
intense amazement. You're a mean fellow, to
go and laugh at a little girl because her father and
mother have gone away. Just wait till yours go,
and see how you like it yourself."
Which retort was all the more unkind because
Willy had never dreamed of disliking girls until
Walter's expression of opinion on the subject had
convinced him that that was the right and proper
frame of mind for boys to entertain. And now to
be deserted and even snubbed in this way! It was
too much! Willy walked off in silence, but the
arrow rankled in his heart, and now to the contempt
he felt for Kitty was added jealousy, for he con-
sidered her responsible for the snubbing he had
received from his admired brother.
I wish I could take you in the sail-boat," said
Walter, as they reached the wharf, where the two
little boats danced on the dimpling, sunny water.
" It's a great deal more fun than the row-boat,
but papa says Willy and I must not go out alone in
it until we know how to swim."
"Oh, I'd a great deal rather go in the row-
boat," said Kitty. "But can't you swim, really?
"Why, can you?" said Walter, looking at her
"Oh dear, yes," said Kitty, carelessly. I've
known how ever since I was as little as Willy
there, and a good deal younger."
As little as Willy!". Poor Willy could n't
stand that, for his small size was one of his many
sore points, and he retorted:
Girls always do brag; it's all they 're good for.
I s'pose you think you 're going to steer, but you
"Oh, no!" said Kitty, brightly. "I'd rather
row. Will you take the stroke, Walter ? "
Walter declined the honor, and Kitty, stepping
to her place, began to handle her oar with a dex-
terity which excited very different feelings in Walter
and Willy. Walter's objection to girls gradually
melted away as he timed his oars to her long,
steady stroke, and watched her artistic feathering;
but Willy sat glooming and glowering in the stern,
brimming over with bitter envy at the sight. To
pull at one oar for a few minutes at a time, with .
three-mouse-power, was all poor Willy had ever
"Where did you learn to row, Kitty ?" asked
I-oh dear! my papa taught me; and poor
Kitty burst into a flood of tears, to Walter's horror
and dismay, and Willy's frank delight and exulta-
Now you 've got it!" he chuckled. I hope
you like girls now! Horrid things always going
about crying and spoiling all your fun !"
"Hold your tongue, Willy!" exclaimed Walter
in an undertone. Did n't mamma tell you to be
polite to Kitty ? "
I don't care," retorted Willy, sulkily. You
always said you did n't like girls, and now you go
and make a fuss over the first one that comes along.
But I aint going to like her, all you can do,-so
there !" And Willy looked at Walter with impish
rage and defiance shining out of his blue eyes.
Kitty and Walter both laughed. Somehow
people always did laugh at poor Willy's outbreaks,
because he was so little and delicate, and his big
blue eyes with their long black lashes looked so
mournful and pathetic that the contrast with his
raging, blustering words was very droll. Willy
could n't understand it at all. People did n't laugh
when his father got angry, and why should they
WHY WALTER CHANGED HIS MIND.
laugh at him, he would like to know? All the
stored-up bitterness of the week suddenly over-
"You're a mean, hateful old thing," shouted
Willy, springing up and dancing wildly in his rage.
" I'll tell mamma! You sha'n't laugh at me!
I'll bat you over the head!" And he made a dive
at Kitty's oar.
Walter sprang up hastily to stop him, but it was
too late. Willy had overbalanced himself in his
frantic plunge; the boat gave a lurch, and, with
one wild cry, he shot headlong into the water and
disappeared. Both Walter and Kitty sprang to
their feet, but while Walter, quite dazed with terror,
could only exclaim wildly, Kitty, quickly tossing
off hat and sacque, stood with her eyes fixed on the
spot where Willy was last seen. In an instant a
little head appeared above the water; the fair hair,
drenched and lank, fell around the pale face; the
blue eyes were stretched wide with horror; the
little hands clutched and struggled in the air, and
a wild shriek rang from the blue lips as he sank
again. Sank, but not for long; for, quick as a
flash, Kitty had darted from the boat into the deep,
cold water, and caught the fair floating hair with
one hand, while with the other, as soon as they
rose to the surface, she struck out for the boat.
Willy struggled wildly in her grasp, clutching at
her and impeding her, in spite of her imploring:
Oh, be quiet, Willy Don't struggle so, or I
can't save you, and we shall both be drowned."
For heroic little Kitty had no idea of letting go
when she had once taken hold.
Willy was very small and light, and Kitty was
very tall and strong for her age, and as much at
home in the water as a duck, but Willy made her
task so hard that she was rapidly becoming ex-
hausted. It was all she could do to keep herself
and him afloat, and to reach the boat would have
been quite beyond her powers had not Walter for-
tunately regained his presence of mind and caught
up the oars.
Back the boat down, or we '11 upset it," she said.
And Walter, obeying, reached them just in time.
Willy first !" gasped Kitty, faintly, as Walter
seized her wrist; and Willy was dragged into the
boat, dripping and choking, but safe. Then, after
resting a moment, Kitty, with Walter's aid, man-
aged to scramble in after him, and then Walter
rowed rapidly to the shore.
You may imagine Mrs. Morgan's feelings when
she saw the two drenched and shivering little
figures wending their way slowly over the lawn, for
Walter had staid behind to put up the boat. By
this time, Willy's teeth were chattering so that he
could not speak, and Kitty's only explanation was:
We both got in, you see, aunty; for so she
always called Mrs. Morgan.
It was not until Willy was safely in bed, and after
Mr. Morgan's return, that they heard the whole
story of Kitty's heroic feat from Walter, who could
not be enthusiastic enough over it.
I tell you what, mamma," he wound up,
" Kitty 's just a bully girl, and I 'm awful glad you
asked her here to spend the summer. She 's a
regular brick, and you 'd just ought to 've seen her
go over after Willy. She never stopped to wink,
but just as soon as Willy was up she was down on
him and grabbed him. She never once thought
about her dress. I'd never have said a word
against girls if I 'd known they were like that.
Kitty and I are going to be the biggest sort of
chums after this."
Kitty was a regular heroine, as you may suppose.
She bore her honors carelessly enough, though,-
declaring that it was all nonsense to make such a
fuss about it, and that what she had done was noth-
ing at all. Yet I think she was very proud of the
little gold watch Mr. Morgan gave her, with the
inscription on the back telling the story. Even
Willy, who had at first been rather inclined to re-
sent her rescue of him, as putting on airs," was
won by her patient and tireless efforts to amuse
him during the painful attack of rheumatism which
followed his wetting. Neither he nor Walter was
ever heard to complain again of the stupidity of
girls, and it would be hard to say which was the
most sorry when Kitty's visit came to an end.
302 A GIRL OF STARS. [StARCH,
A GIRL OF STARS.
BY ELIZA C. DURGIN.
* THE next clear evening, when the moon is on
the other side of the sky, and our side is full of
stars, ask your papa or mamma, or your teacher,
to go out of doors with you and show you some of
the beautiful star-pictures that the wise people call
constellations. Very likely you have often noticed
know where it is, as you need to know where the
North Pole is on a globe.
The sky is to us like a vast globe, only we seem
to be in the center of it, and to look up into it, in-
stead of down upon it. Around the North Star as
a center, each of the twinkling fixed stars seems to
A GIRL OF STARS.
the Great Bear, which looks so much more like a
dipper than a bear, that ordinary folk call it the
Great Dipper, and have learned to trace the line
of the pointers up to the small glittering North
Star in the end of the Little Bear's tail, or the
Little Dipper's handle, whichever you please to call
it. If you have never found this star, be sure to
ask your teacher to show it to you, for you need to
move in a circle; but you will not see this unless
you watch them a long while, for it is not really
their motion, but that of our own little earth that
causes this appearance.
The fixed stars always keep the same relative
places with regard to each other. If one of them is
eight degrees east of another on one night, you
will always find it in the same direction and dis-
A GIRL OF STARS.
A GIRL OF STARS.
tance from its neighbor, in whatever part of the
sky you see them.
The heathen people who lived many hundreds
of years ago, and who worshiped the gods and
goddesses of Greece and Rome, used to see very
strange things in the starry sky. To them, gods
and goddesses, heroes and heroines, and animals,
great and small, shone where we see myriads of
It is of one of the star-heroines that I wish to tell
you. Ask your teacher to point out to you the
constellation called Andromeda. You would never
dream, to look at it, that it was meant for a girl,
bound by cruel chains to a rock on the sea-coast;
but if you will look on an astronomical atlas, you
will see it very plainly.
There is an almost straight line of four brilliant
stars, beginning with a very beautiful one called
Almaach, about fifty degrees from the North Star.
(Be sure to find out about degrees.) Almaach is
in Andromeda's foot. The next one, Mirach,
with two others north-west of it, makes her girdle.
The third bright one of the line marks her breast,
and makes a little triangle, with two dimmer ones
south of it, and a straight line with one of these
and another north of it. The last star of the: four
is a little farther north than it would be if the line
were perfectly straight; it is called Alpheratz, and
is at the same time the chief star of Andromeda's
head, and the corner of a beautiful great square,
which is clearly seen.
The stars which I have mentioned are easily
'traced; and, if you look very sharply, you may see
the triangle in her right arm, the star of her right
hand, the one in her left arm, and many others,-
for there are sixty-six stars, which bright and
patient eyes may see in this constellation.
Now, I suppose you would like to know why
poor Andromeda was left chained to a rock. Well,
here is the story.
She had a very vain mother, Cassiopeia (whose
star-picture, according to astronomy, is also in
the sky, north of her daughter). She was beauti-
ful, and foolish enough to boast of it. That was
what made the trouble. She began to say that she
was more beautiful than Juno and the sea-nymphs.
The nymphs had no idea of letting her talk in that
way, and they went straight to Neptune, the god
of the sea, and told him all about the matter. The
sea-god was very angry, and determined to avenge
the insulted nymphs.
Terrible was the punishment that overtook poor
Cassiopeia. A great flood began to pour its tor-,
rents over the fields and homes of Ethiopia, the
kingdom over which her husband Cepheus was
king. What was the poor vain queen to do ? Her
pretty face was distorted with horror and drenched
with tears. She sent to the oracle of Jupiter
Ammon to ask counsel.
When the ignorant heathen people of those old
times and lands were in trouble, they used often to
send to consult certain oracles. There were oracles
at various places, where they thought that gods
talked with men, and told them of things that
would come to pass. Very unsatisfactory and
obscure the answers often were, but then human
creatures must pray. Those people heard the
voice that the dear Heavenly Father has put into
all His children's hearts, telling them to come to
Him for what they want; but they did not under-
stand to whom they were to go, and how very
near He is,-so, as I told you, they sent to the
It was a fearful answer that was brought back to
the waiting queen. Neptune was not to be satis-
fied unless the Princess Andromeda should be given
up to a horrid sea-monster that had come with the
flood. It seemed very hard that an innocent girl
must suffer so cruel a death; but as the choice was
between the loss of her one life and that of the
lives of many people, she was taken out to a rock
by the sea, and left chained there, to be killed by
Just as he was about to seize her, a gallant youth,
named Perseus, came along through the air, and,
seeing the beautiful maiden, fell in love with her.
He had just succeeded in a very dangerous experi-
ment, which was no less than that of killing a
dreadful gorgon, who had snakes in her hair, and
who had had a very disagreeable habit of turning
every one that she looked at into stone. Perseus
did n't dare to look at her when he killed her; he
looked at her reflection in the bright shield that he
You may imagine that he felt very brave after
this feat. He had the gorgon's head still in his
hand when he came to the place where Andromeda
was. He had on winged shoes, and this was the
reason that he could go through the air as well as
on the ground.
As I said, he fell in love with the beautiful An-
dromeda; but he was a business-like young man,
and he was determined to have the bargain clearly
made before he released the lady. He said he
would save her if her father would promise to give
her to him for a wife. Of course the king said
yes," for he felt badly enough to have the princess
in so piteous a plight. So Perseus gave the sea-
monster a good look at the gorgon's head, which,
not having lost its petrifying power, turned him
Andromeda was already engaged to her uncle
Phineus, who was in a great passion when he found
that he was to lose her. He had a fight with Per-
seus; but what was the use of fighting with a man lived happy ever after; and when they died,
who had a gorgon's head at his service ? Phineus they were turned into stars and put into the sky.
was turned into a stone, too, at sight of it. Some people don't believe this story, but there
Perseus and Andromeda were married, and are the stars!
BY FRANK R. STOCKTON.
CASPAR was his name. He lived on a very high
mountain,-so high that his home was almost in
the region of eternal snow. Indeed, he could almost
always find snow six or seven feet deep without
going very far from the door. But Caspar did
not care particularly for such snow. He was used
It was only when the great storms came, and the
snow-drifts piled up forty feet high against the walls
of the old house, and the snow-flakes fell and fell
and fell, as if they would never stop until they had
filled up all the valleys with their powdery white-
ness, that Caspar felt at all anxious about the depth
of snow.; .
At such times, however, he was very apt to put
himself to a great deal of trouble and anxiety
about the snow.
He did n't mind snow-storms himself, because he
was a snow-king; but there were people who did
mind them, and it was about these people that he
Caspar was a dog, and he lived with the monks
in the monastery of St. Bernard, far up on the
Alps-the very highest dwelling in that great range
You have all heard of these great St. Bernard
dogs; but if you have never seen Caspar, you can
have no idea how grand a dog can be,-that is, if
he happen-to be a snow-king.
And Caspar was a king of the snow, every inch
Sometimes, when the skies were tolerably clear,
and here and there, there was a little sunshine on
the hardy grass that grew about the rocks of the,
monastery, when the snow was good enough to
give them a chance to show themselves, Caspar
would trot around very much like an ordinary dog,
and lie down and take a comfortable nap in a
sunny spot among the shadows of the grand old
Alps, as quietly as if he had never heard of glaciers
and avalanches, and had never thought of such a
thing as people perishing in the snow.
Now Caspar was not a very old dog, and he had
already saved two lives. And yet he was not proud
-or, at any rate, he did not show it.
In fact, if you had seen him jogging around the
monastery, you might never have thought that he
was a king of any kind-much less such an import-
ant monarch as a snow-king. For almost any in-
telligent person might make a pretty good king of
the ordinary kind, but kings of the snow are very
One day it began to snow, early in the morn-
ing, up on the mountains. It did not snow very
hard at first, but people who were weather-wise
thought that there would be quite a storm after
As the day wore on, it became colder and colder,
1575.] A SNOW-KING. 305
and the wind began to freeze the snow-flakes into
little icy lumps, and it hurled them like showers
of bullets across the valleys and over the mountain-
Although the wind roared sometimes around the
craggy corners, and showers of icy shot would now
and then rattle against some frozen crust of snow,
the mountains seemed quiet, and certainly they
Up on the mountain-sides lay vast masses of
snow and ice that were growing heavier and heavier
as the snow fell faster and faster. These were all
ready to come thundering and crashing down into
the valleys below, and seemed only waiting for the
signal to begin their mad rush down the mountain-
For when these great masses of snow and ice are
piled up in this way in the Alps, it often requires
but a very little thing to start them off. Some-
times a loud word, or the breaking of a stick, or a
were five persons toiling up the road toward the
Four of these were men, and one was a boy
about fourteen years old. His name was Paolo
Vennatti, and he lived down the mountain-side,
some miles below the place where we find him on
this snowy afternoon.
For a day or two, Paolo had been very anxious
about the fate of a stray goat which he believed
could be found up the mountain, and probably at
or near the monastery of St. Bernard. So when
that afternoon four men stopped at Paolo's home to
rest a little before continuing their journey over the
Alps, by the way of the St. Bernard Pass, the boy
determined to go with them, at least as far as the
He did not say anything to his parents about his
plan, for he had heard his father tell the men that
it would be foolhardy to attempt to cross the
mountains that day, when it was not only snowing
- _X ~ -~
CASPAR. (DRAWN FROM A PHOTOGRAPH FROM LIFE.)
heavy footstep, will jar the air or the snow suffi-
ciently to send an avalanche on its way.
It would hardly be supposed that on such a day
as this any one would be out of doors; but, not-
withstanding the bad weather and the promise of
worse weather to come, on that afternoon there
but the wind was blowing at such a terrific rate
that it would be certain to start an avalanche some-
where on the road.
"And you know well enough that it does n't
need much of a wind to start an avalanche," said
But the wind's been blowing all the morning
and half the night," said one of the men; and if
there were any avalanches to start, they would
have been on their way before this."
So the four men started off just after dinner, and
Paolo slipped out after them and joined them when
they had got out of sight of the house.
One of the men wanted to make him go back,
but the others said that he might as well come if
he chose-it was n't snowing so very hard, and if
he wanted to find his goat as much as he said he
did, there was no reason why he should not try to
So they all trudged on, and nothing of any im-
portance happened for an hour. They did not
have much difficulty in making their way, for the
snow-storm seemed to be decreasing, and the wind
was certainly going down.
But all of a sudden something very astonishing
A violent gust of wind seemed to leap from
around the corner of a tall mass of rocks and crags,
and in its arms it carried a vast cloud of snow,
which it raised in the air and hurled down upon
our travelers, who were instantly buried from
This was one of the terrible whirlwinds which
often occur in the Alps, when great volumes of
newly fallen snow are carried through the air and
thrown here or there in masses many feet in
It was as sudden as a flash of lightning-one
moment Paolo was walking cheerfully along the
road, and in the next he was buried deep under an
immense heap of snow !
For a moment he did not know what had hap-
pened-it seemed as if he had been struck blind.
He was not hurt, but the world had suddenly dis-
appeared from his sight.
It was not long, however, before he knew what
had happened. There was snow above and below
him-snow in his eyes, snow in his ears and nose
He could not get up because there was snow on
top of him, and, when he tried to get his legs
under him, he could find no support for his feet,
for there was nothing but soft snow beneath him.
He could breathe, but that was about all he
Paolo soon felt himself sinking lower and lower in
the soft snow. He tried again to get his feet straight
down under him, and this time they touched some-
thing hard. He knew then that he stood on the
He had no idea how much snow was piled up
over him, nor did he think much about it. Now
that he could get his feet on something firm, all
that he thought of was to push or scratch himself
out of that bed of snow just as fast as he could.
He thrust his feet against the ground; he leaned
forward and scratched and dug with his hands and
arms like a little terrier after a rat. He kicked and
rolled and pushed and dug and sputtered snow out
of his mouth, and so scratched his way along for
several yards. Then he suddenly stumbled out
into the open air and went plump down a preci-
He did not know how far he fell, but he knew
that he went backforemost into a bed of snow with
a crust on it, through which he broke with a gentle
crunch, as when you throw a stone through a pane
The snow under the crust was not very hard,
and his fall only jarred him a little. And yet the
snow was packed hard enough to give him a chance
to crawl out of the hole he had made and to look
around him. He found that he was on an old bed
of snow that lay on a ledge some twenty feet below
the road, and from which the fresh snow had been
blown. The mass of snow which had overwhelmed
him and his companions he could see piled up on
the road above him. If another gust of wind should
come around that corner it might be blown down
upon him and cover him again.
So he hurriedly scrambled to his feet and tried
to get away from under that steep precipice with
its great cap of snow. But he could not go very
far. The crust broke beneath him very often;
there were hollow places filled with new snow,
through which he could scarcely push his way;
it was snowing faster and faster, and he was very
cold. He could not climb up to the road, and
if he could have done so there was that great mass
of snow out of which he had been so glad to get.
He did not know what to do; so he sat down.
Then he drew up his knees and tried to get
warm and to think. He could not get warm, but
he could think very easily. He thought about
his parents, and what a wretch he was to come
away from them as he had done. What was a
goat, after all, that he should risk his life for it?
And yet he did n't know, when he started, that he
was risking his life, though that was no matter
now, for he had done it, and there was no going
Here he was, alone in the midst of the great
Alps. It was dreadfully solemn and cold. The
air was full of the smell of snow. Snow beneath
him and all around him. Above him, too; for it
was falling on him until he looked like a little snow-
boy as he sat there drawn up in a bunch.
He did not expect any help now. He knew the
Alps too well to suppose, even if his companions
had succeeded in getting out of that snow-drift, that
1875.] A SNOW-KING. 307
they could find him where he now was. He could
not shout. His lips and tongue seemed frozen stiff.
He could not see very far.
He began to feel a little warmer now, and drowsy.
He knew that if he went to sleep he would never
wake again. But he did n't care; he might as well
be comfortable. And there was nobody on earth
who could save him. If anybody came to him
there, they would die too. The best thing he could
do would be to go to sleep.
In all the whole world there was no one who
could save this poor boy,-that is if you did not
count in Caspar, the snow-king.
He could do it. And he did do it.
Right through the snow-storm :.,ne tL t _i a Ij
beast! Rushing over the frozen .:iui, i..i ii ,;
through the deep places; bounding. -pn, i.. iri.
not for drift or storm, like a snow-I: ; .,: h .- -
He made one dash at Paolo, and ,.:.I- .-,,,, ...:r
in the snow. Then he barked at 1-. ii,..h .,:
Wake up you foolish boy Fr'.r ,':,i I..,. .
I 'm here? It's all right now."
He pushed Paolo first on one sE:l i, i-, t:. ... -
the other, and when he had mad: lIi,,,. ..i:r] nh-
eyes and stare about him, the great '. j:p., r :..-,
again in his loudest, freest tones. A -ir...--i..riL,
did n't interfere with his voice.
Again and again he barked, as iif I- :lh...a-
"Hello-o I've found him! H-:r,- hI i- !"i
Caspar had not barked very -21-: r:t.:,r ...:.
men came toiling through the stcim. ,.i,: :; .
St. Bernard monk, and the other A : ..I rh,:
men with whom Paolo had starr.:..1 ..-r nr t i
These two took the boy by the in, ..-1 r u,:-.l.
him up. They shook him, and rh.., i.:- 1I,-n
drink a little brandy that the monk i -.:1 ..%.i ttn.,
and then they led him away betwe.: n .. 0,!
Caspar went ahead, so that it -,.ui I1.._ -I
They walked back with great ..iii.:hIt t. -
way they had come, and soon i.-..h.:d pl-:,
where the road could be regained, .,r i r.-.ira -.it.
,distance beyond the snow-drift.
Then they pressed on to the conr., rt.
The four men had been over-
whelmed by the snow-drift, but -- --
,as they were considerably in ad- -
-vance of Paolo, the greater part
'of the mass of fresh snow seemed -
to pass over them and hurl itself 'i-
-on the boy.
After some struggling the men -t .
.got out of the deep snow. They -
missed the boy, but could not tell how to look for
him or save him. If they stopped they were afraid
they would perish themselves. So they hurried on,
and before they had gone very far they met Caspar
and two of the St. Bernard monks.
They told their story, and one of the monks, with
the dog, started down the mountain. He thought
the boy might be saved. The youngest of the four
men thought he would go too. It was a shame to
desert the poor boy so.
As they hurried along, the man said:
If the snow-drift is still there we shall never be
able to get around it or into it
to find the boy."
"** t_" li."5 Ill. .itr-: r.:. [
ti ir." ': I. th.- r.t..:.lhi-
Ii .- .- r.
A nrd.:l h- tl-,: d .. r. : .:l,._ l ._-.
t i: r.-r. -. ri i l .'t .it ri.i.t ir,
r,, ;., lhri..,., h ,t HI e lh..!
..r.: .: 1. 1i.... H
r .. I-.1 :. i -T : r'I.,i !;k : f.i l i
id. ..ul,-I ,... n i V ,n :.. H ,ai ','
d r,: r i ,I. i .- i .,1
. ..- F I I 'i'
al,-,r I rl. t ,: i- ,.
"J,'t. Id '1:, I1
,. -, h-.u i,,,,'
49 r -
THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.
BY Lucy LARCOM.
MARCH March March They are coming
In troops, to the tune of the wind
Red-headed woodpeckers drumming,
Gold-crested thrushes behind;
Sparrows in brown jackets hopping
Past every gateway and door;
Finches with crimson caps stopping
Just where they stopped years before.
March! March! March They are slipping
Into their places at last,-
Little white lily-buds, dripping
Under the showers that fall fast;
Buttercups, violets, roses;
Snowdrop and bluebell and pink;
Throng upon throng of sweet posies,
Bending the dewdrops to drink.
March! March! March! They will hurry
Forth at the wild bugle-sound,
Blossoms and birds in a flurry,
Fluttering all over the ground.
Hang out your flags, birch and willow!
Shake out your red tassels, larch !
Grass-blades, up from your earth-pillow
Hear who is calling you-March!
THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.
BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE.
JACK AND VINNIE IN CHICAGO.
VINNIE poured out her story to her friend as they
walked along the street.
Jack was so incensed, when she came to the up-
shot of the adventure, that he wished to go back at
once and make the slim youth's acquaintance.
But she would not permit so foolish a thing.
It is all over now. What good would it do for
you to see him ?"
"I don't know; I'd like to tell the scamp what
I think of him, if nothing more. He wanted a
little fun, did he ?" And Jack stood, pale with
wrath, looking back at the hotel.
"If it hadn't been for him, I might not have
seen you," said Vinnie. May be you can't for-
give him that!"
Jack looked into her eyes, full of a sweet, mirth-
ful light, and forgot his anger.
I'll forgive him the rest, because of that. But
tell me just how the fellow looked."
"Rather tall and slender; a face without much
character, but a pair of pretty keen black eyes."
"A mean little fuzzy beard on his chin,?"
"No; he was shaved."
"Shabbily dressed ?"
"He had on pretty good clothes," said Vinnie,
"and a black stove-pipe hat. But his shirt-bosom
looked as if it had been slept in."
After some hesitation, Jack turned to walk on
I did n't know," said he, but it might possibly
be the fellow who stole my horse."
He had written to Vinnie of that adventure; and
she was now eager to know if Snowfoot had been
Not a hair of him !" said Jack. I got an old
hunter and trapper to go with me the next day;
we struck his trail on the prairie, and after a deal
of trouble tracked him to a settler's cabin. There
the rogue had stopped, and asked for supper and
lodgings, which he promised to pay for in the
morning. The man and his wife had gone to bed,
but they got up, fed him and the horse, and then
made him up a bed on the cabin floor. He pre-
tended to be very careful of his horse, and he had
to go out and make sure that he was all right before
he went to bed; and that was the last they saw of
him. He bridled Snowfoot, and rode off so slyly
that they never knew which way he went. He had
struck the traveled road, and there we lost all trace
of him. I went on to Joliet, and looked along the
canal, and set stablemen to watch for him, while
THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.
my friend took the road to Chicago; but neither
of us had any luck. I've hunted all about the
country for him; and now, for a last chance, I 've
come to Chicago myself."
"How long have you been here?" Vinnie
Only about two hours; and I must go back to-
morrow. I've not much hope of finding Snowfoot
here ; but as I had a chance to ride in with a neigh-
bor, I thought best to take advantage of it. Lucky
I did! Why did n't you write and let somebody
know you were coming?"
"I did write to my sister; but I did n't expect
anybody to meet me here in Chicago, since I
could n't tell just when I should arrive."
"Where are you stopping?"
On board the schooner that brought me. She
is lying quite near here, at a wharf in the river."
Can you stay on board till to-morrow?"
Vinnie thought the captain and his wife would
be glad to keep her.
"Though it isn't very nice," she added, now
that they are discharging the cargo."
"Perhaps you had better go to the Farmers'
Home, where my friend and I have put up," said
You at the Farmers' Home Why could n't I
have known it?" said Vinnie. It was there I
went to inquire for Long Woods people, and met
that scapegrace. But, after all, everything has
happened very fortunately. When do you go
"We start early to-morrow morning. You can
go with us as well as not-a good deal better than
not!" said the overjoyed Jack. "Nothing but a
little load of groceries. You shall go home with
me to North Mills; Mrs. Lanman will be glad to
see you. Then I '11l drive you over to Long Woods
in three or four days."
"Three or four days!" exclaimed Vinnie, not
daring to be as happy as these welcome words
might have made her. I should like much to
visit your friends; but I must get to my sister's as
soon as possible."
Jack's face clouded.
Vinnie, I 'm afraid you don't know what you
have undertaken. I can't bear the thought of your
going into that family. Why do you? The Lan-
mans will be delighted to have you stay with
0, but I must go where I am needed," Vinnie
answered. And you must n't say a word against
it. You must help me, Jack !"
"They need you enough, Heaven knows, Vin-
nie !" Jack felt that he ought not to say another
word to discourage her, so he changed the subject.
"Which way now is your schooner?"
Vinnie said she would show him; but she wished
to buy a little present for the captain's wife on the
As they passed along the street, she made him
tell all he knew of her sister's family; and then
asked if he had heard from his old friend George
"Only a few days ago, he sent me a magazine
with a long story of his in it, founded on our ad-
venture with the pickpockets," replied Jack. He
writes me a letter about once a month. You hear
from him, of course ?"
"O0, yes. And he sends me magazines. He
has wonderful talent, don't you think so ?"
And the two friends fell to praising the absent
I wonder if you have noticed one thing ?" said
What, in particular ?"
That Grace Manton has been the heroine of
all his last stories."
"I fancied I could see you in one or two of
them," replied Jack.
."Perhaps. But I am not the heroine; I
am only the goody-goody girl," laughed Vinnie.
"When you see beauty, talent, accomplishments,
-that's Grace. I am glad they are getting on so
"So am I!" said Jack, with an indescribable
look at the girl beside him.
Mr. Manton is dead,-I suppose you know it,"
Jack knew it, and was not sorry; though he had
much to say in praise of the man's natural talents,
which dissipation had ruined.
The purchase made, they visited the schooner,
where it was decided that Vinnie should remain on
board. Jack then left her, in order to make the
most of his time looking about the city for his
He continued his search, visiting every public
stable, making inquiries of the hostlers, and nailing
up or distributing a small hand-bill he had had
printed, offering a reward of twenty dollars for "a
light, reddish roan horse, with white fore feet, a
conspicuous scar low down on the near side, just
behind the shoulder, and a smaller scar on the off
In the meantime he kept a sharp look-out for
roan horses in the streets. But all to no purpose.
There were roan horses enough, but he could see
and hear nothing of the particular roan he wanted.
In the evening he went to see Vinnie on board
the schooner, and talked of his ill success.
A light roan? that's a kind of gray, aint it?"
said the captain of the "Heron." That bearish
fellow from Long Woods, who would n't take into
THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.
his wagon anybody connected with the Bettersons,
"Dudley Peakslow,-I sha'n't soon forget his
name !" said Vinnie.
"He drove such a horse," said the captain;
"though I did n't notice the fore feet or any
Jack laughed, and shook his head.
That's what everybody says. But the scars
and fore feet are the main points in my case. I
would n't give a cent for a roan horse without 'em!"
Then he changed the subject. It's a beautiful
night, Vinnie; let's go for a little stroll on the lake
shore, and forget all about roans,-light roans,
dark roans, white feet, black, blue, green, yellow
feet! Perhaps your friends will go with us."
Jack hoped they would n't, I regret to say. But
the night was so pleasant, and the captain's wife
had become so attached to Vinnie, that she per-
suaded her husband to go.
The lake shore was charming; for in those early
days it had not been marred by breakwaters and
docks. The little party strolled along the beach,
with the sparkling waves dashing at their feet, and
the lake spread out before them, vast, fluctuating,
misty-gray, with here and there a white crest toss-
ing in the moon.
Singing snatches of songs with Vinnie, telling
stories with the captain, skipping pebbles on the
lake,-ah, how happy Jack was! He was glad,
after all, that they had: all come together, since
there was now no necessity of Vinnie's hastening
back to the schooner, to prevent her friends from
sitting up for her.
I've been in this port fifty times," said the
captain, "but I've never been down here before,
neither has my wife; and I'm much obliged to you
for bringing us."
"I like the lake," said his wife, "but I like it
best from shore."
"O0, so do I!" said Vinnie, filled with the peace
and beauty of the night.
It was late when they returned to the schooner.
There Jack took his leave, bidding Vinnie hold
herself in readiness to be taken off, with her trunk,
in a grocer's wagon early the next morning.
JACK'S NEW HOME.
IN due time the wagon was driven to the wharf;
and Vinnie, parting from the captain and his wife
with affectionate good-byes, rode out in the fresh-
ness of the morning across the great plain stretching
back from the city.
The plain left behind, groves and streams and
high prairies were passed; all wearing a veil of
romance to the eye of the young girl, which saw
everything by its own light of youth and hope.
But the roads were in places rough and full of
ruts; the wagon was pretty well loaded; and
Vinnie was weary enough, when, late in the after-
noon, they approached the thriving new village of
Here we come to Lanman's nurseries," said
Jack, as they passed a field of rich dark soil, ruled
with neat rows of very young shrubs and trees.
"Felton is interested in the business with him;
and I work for them a good deal when we 've no
surveying to do. They 're hardly established yet;
but they 're sure of a great success within a few
years, for all this immense country must have
orchards and garden fruits, you know. Ah, there 's
The dog came bounding to the front wheels,
whining, barking, leaping up, wagging his tail, and
finally rolling over in the dirt, to show his joy at
seeing again his young master.
The Lanman cottage was close by; and there in
the door was its young mistress, who, warned by
the dog of the wagon's approach, had come out to
see if Jack's horse was with him.
"No news of Snowfoot?" she said, walking to
the gate as the wagon stopped.
Not a bit. But I've had good luck, after all.
For here is-who do you suppose ? Vinnie Dalton!
Vinnie, this is the friend you have heard me speak
of, Mrs. Annie Felton Lanman."
Vinnie went out of the wagon almost into the
arms of Annie; so well had both been prepared by
Jack to know and to love each other.
Of course the young girl received a cordial wel-
come; and to her the little cottage seemed the
most charming in the world. It contained few
luxuries, but everything in it was arranged with
neatness and taste, and exhaled an atmosphere of
sweetness and comfort, which mere luxury can
Lion has been watching for you with the
anxiety of a lover all the afternoon," Mrs. Lanman
said to Jack, as, side by side, with Vinnie between
them, they walked up the path to the door. "And
he is jealous because you don't give him more at-
Not jealous; but he wants to be introduced to
Vinnie. Here, old fellow "
Vinnie was delighted to make acquaintance with
the faithful dog, and listened eagerly to Annie's
praise of him as they entered the house.
He is useful in doing our errands," said Mrs.
Lanman. If I wish to send him to the grocery
for anything, I write my order on a piece of paper,
put it into a basket, and give the basket to him,
just lifting my finger, and saying: Go to the
THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.
grocery, go to the grocery,' twice; and he never
makes a mistake. To-day, Jack, for the first time,
he came home without doing his errand."
"Why, Lion I 'm surprised at you !" said'
Jack; while Lion lay down on the floor, looking
very much abashed.
I sent him for butter, which we wanted to use
at dinner. As I knew, when he came back, that
the order, which I placed in a dish in the basket,
had not been touched, I sent him again. Don't
come home,' I said, till somebody gives you the
butter.' He then went, and didn't return at all.
So, as dinner-time came, I sent my brother to look
after him. He found the grocery closed, and Lion
waiting with his basket on the steps."
The grocer is sick," Jack explained; "his son
had gone to town with me; and so the clerk was
obliged to shut up the store when he went to
dinner." And he praised and patted Lion, to let
him know that they were not blaming him for his
failure to bring the butter.
"One day," said Annie, "he had been sent to
the butcher's for a piece of meat. On his way
home he saw a small dog of his acquaintance en-
gaged in a desperate fight with a big dog,-as big
as Lion himself. At first he ran up to them much
excited; then he seemed to remember his basket
of meat. He could n't go into the fight with that,
and he was too prudent to set it down in the street.
For a moment he looked puzzled; then he ran to
the grocery, which was close by,-the same place
where we send him for things; but instead of hold-
ing up his basket before one of the men, as he does
when his errand is with them, he went and set it
carefully down behind a barrel in a corner. Then
he rushed out and gave the big dog a severe
punishing. The men in the grocery watched
him; and, knowing that he would return for the
basket, they hid it in another place, to see what
he would do. He went back into the store, to the
corner behind the barrel, and appeared to be in
great distress. He snuffed and whimpered about
the store for awhile, then ran up to the youngest
of the men, "
Horace,-the young fellow who came out with
us to-day," commented Jack. He is full of his
fun; and Lion knew that it would be just like him
to play such a trick."
He ran up to Horace," Annie continued, "and
barked furiously; and became at last so fiercely
threatening, that it was thought high time to give
him the basket. Lion took it and ran home in
extraordinary haste; but it was several days before
he would have anything more to do with Horace."
Who can say, after this, that dogs do not
think ?" said the admiring Vinnie.
"Mr. Lanman thinks he has some St. Bernard
blood," said Jack, and that is what gives him his
intelligence. He knows just what we are talking
about now; and see he hardly knows whether to
be proud or ashamed. I don't approve of his fight-
ing, on ordinary occasions; and I 've had to punish
him for it once or twice. The other evening, as I
was coming home from a hunt after my horse, I
saw two dogs fighting near the saw-mill."
Jack had got so far, when Lion, who had seemed
to take pleasure in being in the room to that mo-
ment, got up very quietly and went out with droop-
ing ears and tail.
He knows what is coming, and does n't care to
hear it. There's a little humbug about Lion, as
there is about the most of us. It was growing
dark, and the dogs were a little way off, and I
was n't quite sure of Lion; but some boys who
saw the fight told me it was he, and I called to
him. But what do you think he did ? Instead of
running to greet me, as he always does when he
sees me return after an absence, he fought a little
longer, then pretended to be whipped, and ran
around the saw-mill, followed by the other dog.
The other dog came back, but Lion did n't. I was
quite surprised, when I got home, to see him rush
out to meet me, in an ecstasy of delight, as if he
then saw me for the first time. His whole manner
seemed to say: 'I am tickled to see you, Jack !
and if you think you saw me fighting the sawyer's
dog just now, you're much mistaken.' I don't
know but I might have been deceived, in spite of
the boys; but one thing betrayed him,-he was
wet. In order to get home before me, without
passing me on the road, he had swum the river."
Now you must tell the story of the chickens,"
"Another bit of humbug," laughed Jack. "Our
neighbors' chickens trouble us by scratching in our
yard, and I have told Lion he must keep them out.
But I noticed that sometimes, even when he had
been on guard, there were signs that the chickens
had been there and scratched. So I got Mrs. Lan-
man to watch him for two or three days, while he
watched the chickens. Now Lion is very fond of
company; so, as soon as I was out of sight, he
would let the chickens come in, and scratch and
play all about him, while he would lie with his nose
on his paws and blink at them as good-naturedly
as possible. But he kept an eye out for me all the
while, and the moment I came in sight, he would
jump up, and go to frightening away the chickens
with a great display of vigor and fidelity. So you
see, Lion is n't a perfect character, by any means.
I could tell you a good deal more" about his pecu-
liarities ; but I think you are too tired now to listen
to any more dog stories."
Jack carried Vinnie's trunk to a cosey little room;
THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.
and there she had time to rest and make herself
presentable, before Mrs. Lanman came to tell her
that tea was ready.
See here, Vinnie, a minute !" said Jack, peep-
ing from a half-opened door. "Don't make a
noise!" he whispered, as if there were a great
mystery within. "I'll show you something very
Mrs. Lanman followed, smiling, as Jack led
Vinnie to a crib, lifted a light veil, and discovered
a lovely little cherub of a child, just opening its
soft blue eyes, and stretching out its little rosy
hands, still dewy with sleep.
0 how sweet! said Vinnie, thrilled with love
and tenderness at the sight.
She has a smile for you, see !" said the pleased
Of course Vinnie had never seen so pretty a
baby, such heavenly eyes, or such cunning little
The hands are little," said Jack, in a voice
which had an unaccustomed tremor in it; "but
they are stronger than a giant's; they have hold
of all our heart-strings."
"I never knew a boy so fond of a baby as Jack
is," said Annie.
0, but I should n't be so fond of any other
baby!" Jack replied, bending down to give the
little thing a fond caress.
As they went out to tea, there was a happy light
on all their faces, as if some new, deep note of har-
mony had just been struck in their hearts.
At tea, Vinnie made the acquaintance of Annie's
brother and husband, and Jack's friends, Mr. For-
rest Felton and Mr. Percy Lanman; and-so
pleasant and genial were their ways-felt at home
in their presence at once. This was a great relief
to her; for she felt very diffident at meeting men
whom she had heard Jack praise so highly.
Any one could see that Vinnie was not accus-
tomed to what is called society; but her native
manners were so simple and sincere, and there was
such an air of fresh, young, joyous, healthy life
about her, that she produced an effect upon be-
holders which the most artificially refined young
lady might have envied.
Jack watched her and Annie a good deal slyly ;
and there was in his expression a curious mixture
of pride and anxiety, as if he were trying to look
at each with the other's eyes, and thinking how
they must like each other, yet having some fears
lest they might not see all he saw to admire.
Vinnie was made to talk a good deal of her
journey; and she told the story with so much sim-
plicity, speaking with unfeigned gratitude and affec-
tion of the friendships she had made, and touching
with quiet mirthfulness upon the droll events, as if
she hardly knew herself that they were droll, that
all-and especially Jack-were charmed.
But she had not the least idea of showing off."
Indeed, she thought scarcely at all of what others
thought of her; but said often to herself, What
a beautiful home Jack has, and what pleasant com-
After tea, she must see more of the baby; then
Jack wanted to show her the greenhouses and the
nurseries; and then all settled down to a social
Vinnie is pretty tired," said Jack, "and I
think a little music will please her better than any-
And so a little concert was got up for her enter-
Forrest Felton was a fine performer on the flute;
Mr. Lanman played the violin, and his wife the
piano; and they discoursed some excellent music.
Then, still better, there was singing. The deep-
chested Forrest had a superb bass voice; Lanman
a fine tenor; Annie's voice was light, but exceed-
ingly sweet and expressive; and they sang several
pieces together, to her own accompaniment on the
piano. Then Lanman said:
Now it is your turn, Jack."
"But you know,".replied Jack, I never play or
sing for anybody, when your wife or Forrest is
True; but you can dance."
0 yes a dance, Jack cried Annie.
Vinnie clapped her hands.
"Has Jack told you," she said, "how, on the
steamboat going from Albany to New York, after
they had had their pockets picked, he and George
Greenwood collected a little money,-George play-
ing the flute and Jack dancing, for the amusement
of the passengers?"
Jack laughed, and looked at his shoes.
"Well, come to the kitchen, where there's no
carpet on the floor, and I 'll give you what I call
the Canal Driver's Hornpipe.' Bring your flute,
So they went to the kitchen; and all stood, while
Jack, with wild grace of attitude, and wonderful
ease and precision of movement, performed one of
his most difficult and spirited dances.
When it was ended, in the midst of the laughter
and applause, he caught up a hat, and gayly
passed it around for pennies. But while the men
were feeling in their pockets, he appeared suddenly
to remember where he was.
"Beg pardon," he cried, sailing his hat into a
corner, arid whirling on his heel,-" I forgot my-
self; I thought I was on the deck of the steam-
This closed the evening's entertainment.
THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.
When Vinnie, retiring to her room, laid her
head on the pillow, she thought of the night before
and of this night, and asked her heart if it could
ever again know two evenings so purely happy.
Then a great wave of anxiety swept over her
mind, as she thought of the other home, to which
she must hasten on the morrow.
VINNIE'S FUTURE HOME.
A LIVELY sensation was produced, the next fore-
noon, when a youth and a girl, in a one-horse
Five-year-old Chokie got up from his holes in the
earth by the doorstep, and stood with dangling
hands and sprawling fingers, grinning, dirty-faced.
Vinnie, springing to the ground with Jack's help,
at the side-door caught Lill in her arms, and gave
her an ardent kiss.
I have heard of you !" she said : for she had
recognized the bright, wistful face.
Dear auntie said the child, with tears and
smiles of joy, I 'm so glad you've come "
Here is Link-my friend Link," said Jack.
" Don't overlook him."
I 've heard a good deal about you too, Link !"
"LINK DOESN'T CARE TO BE KISSED."
wagon, with a big dog and a small trunk, arrived
at Lord Betterson's castle."
Link dashed into the house, screaming, "They've
come they 've come "
Who has come ?" gasped poor Mrs. Betterson,
with a start of alarm, glancing her eye about the
Jack What's-his-name the fellow that shot
the deer and lost his horse. It's Aunt Lavinny
with him, I bet !"
And out the boy rushed again, to greet the new-
Lill, who was once more washing dishes at the
table, stepped down from her stool, and ran out
too, drying her fingers on her apron by the way.
said Vinnie, embracing him also, but not quite so
Ye need n't mind kissing me !" said Link,
bashfully turning his face. "And as for him,"-
as she passed on to the five-year-old,-" that 's
Chokie; he 's a regular prairie gopher for digging
holes; you wont find a spot on him big as a six-
pence clean enough to kiss, I bet ye two million
Vinnie did not accept the wager, convinced,
probably, that she would lose it if she did. As she
bent over the child, however, the report of a kiss
was heard,-a sort of shot in the air, not designed
to come very near the mark.
I 'in didding a well," said Chokie, in a solemn
THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.
voice, so the boys wont have to do to the spring
Mrs. Betterson tottered to the door, convulsively
wrapping her red shawl about her.
Lavinia Is it sister Lavinia?"
At sight of her, so pale and feeble, Vinnie was
much affected. She could hardly speak; but,
supporting the emaciated form in her strong, em-
bracing arms, she led her back into the house.
'" You are so good to come !" said Mrs. Better-
son, weeping, as she sank in her chair. I am
worse than when I wrote to you; and the baby is
no better; and Cecie-poor Cecie though she
can sit up but little, she does more than any of us
for the sick little thing."
Vinnie. turned to the lounge, where Cecie, with
the baby in her arms, lay smiling with bright,
moist eyes upon the new-comer. She bent over
and kissed them both ; and, at sight of the puny
infanit,-so pitiful a contrast to Mrs. Lanman's fair
and healthy child,-she felt her heart contract with
grief and her eyes fill.
Then, as she turned away with an effort at self-
control, and looked about the room, she must have
noticed, too, the painful contrast between Jack's
home and this, which was to be hers ; and have
felt a sinking of the heart, which it required all her
strength and courage to overcome.
We are not looking fit to be seen; I know it,
Lavinia!" sighed Mrs. Betterson. "But you'll
excuse it-you've already excused so many things in
the past It seems a dreadful, unnatural thing for
our family to be so-so very-yet don't think we
are absolutely reduced, Lavinia. Mr. Betterson's
connections, as everybody knows, are very wealthy
and aristocratic, and they are sure to do something
for him soon. This is my husband, sister Lavinia."
And, with a faint simper of satisfaction, she looked
up at a person who just then entered from an ad-
He was a tall, well-made man, who looked (Vin-
nie could not help thinking) quite capable of doing
something for himself. He might have been called
fine-looking, but that his fine looks, like his gen-
tility, of which he made a faded show in his dress
and manners, appeared to have gone somewhat to
seed. He greeted Vinnie with polite condescen-
sion, said a few commonplace words, settled his
dignified chin in his limp dickey, which was sup-
ported by a high, tight stock (much frayed about
the edges), and went on out of the house.
Now you have seen him!" whispered Mrs.
Betterson, as if it had been a great event in Vin-
nie's life. "Very handsome, and perfectly well-
bred, as you observe. Not at all the kind of man
to be neglected by his family, aristocratic as they
are; do you think he is? Yes, my dear Lavinia,"
she added, with a sickly smile, you have seen a.
real, live Betterson !"
These evidences of a foolish pride surviving
affliction, made poor Vinnie more heartsick than
anything else; and for a moment the brave girl
was almost overcome with discouragement.
In the meanwhile, the real, live Betterson walked
out into the yard, where Jack-who had not cared
to follow Vinnie into the house-was talking with
Will you walk in, sir ? And the stately Bet-
terson neck bent slightly in its stiff stock.
No, I thank you," replied Jack. But I sup-
pose this trunk goes in."
"Ah to be sure. Lincoln,"-with a wave of
the aristocratic Betterson hand,-" show the young
man where 'to put the trunk. He can take it to
I can, can I ? That's a privilege thought
Jack. He was perfectly ii'.i to be a porter, or
anything else, in a good cause; and it was a de-
light for him to do Vinnie a service ; but why did
the noble Betterson stand there and give directions
about the trunk, in that pompous way, instead of
taking hold of one end of it? Jack, who had a
lively spirit, and a tongue of his own, was prompted
to say something sarcastic, but he wisely forbore.
I'll place it here for the present," he said, and
set the trunk down by the doorstep. He thought
it would be better for him to see Vinnie and bid
her good-bye a little later, after the meeting be-
tween the sisters should be well over; so he turned
to Link, and asked where his big brothers were.
S"I d'n' know," said Link; guess they're down
in the lot hunting prairie hens."
Let's go and find 'em," said Jack.
WHY JACK DID NOT FIRE AT THE PRAIRIE
BOTH Link and Lion were delighted with this
proposal, and they set off in high glee, boy and
dog capering at each side of the more steady-going
A well? said Jack, as they passed a curb be-
hind the house. I thought you had to go to the
spring for' water."
So we do," said Link.
Why don't you use the well ? "
I d'n' know; 't aint good for anything. 'T aint
Why was n't it dug deeper ?"
"I d'n' know; father got out of patience, I
guess, dr out of money. 'T was a wet time, and
the water came into it, so they stunned it up ; and
now it's dry all summer."
THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.
They passed a field on the sunny slope, and
Jack said, What's here ?"
I d'n' know; 'twas potatoes, but it's run all
Why did n't you; hoe them ?"
"I d'n' know; folks kind o' neglected 'em, till
't was too late."
Beyond the potatoes was another crop, which the
weeds, tall as they were, could not hide.
Corn ?" said Jack.
Meant for corn," replied Link. But the cat-
tle and hogs have been in it, and trampled down
I should think so They look like the last
rows of summer !" Jack said. Why don't you
keep the cattle and hogs out ?"
I d'n' know; 't aint much of a fence; hogs run
under and cattle jump over."
Plenty of timber close by,--why don't your
folks make a better fence ?"
"I d'n' know; they don't seem to take a no-
Jack noticed that the river was quite near, and
asked if there was good boating.
I d'n' know-pretty good, only when the
water's too low."
Do you keep a boat ? "
"Not exactly-we never had one of our own,"
said Link. But one came floating down the
river, and the boys nabbed that. A fust-rate boat,
only it leaked like a sieve."
Leaked ? Does n't it leak now ?"
No !" said Link, stoutly. "They hauled it up,
and last winter they worked on it, odd spells, and"
now it don't leak a drop."
Jack was surprised to hear of so much enterprise
in the Betterson family, and asked :
Stopped all the leaks in the old boat They
puttied and painted it, I suppose ?"
No, they didn't."
Calked and pitched it, then ?"
No, they did n't."
What did they do to it ?"
Made kindling- wood of it," said Link, laugh-
ing, and hitching up his one suspender.
Jack laughed too, and changed the subject.
Is that one of your brothers with a gun ?"
That's Wad; Rufe is down on the grass."
What sort of a crop is that,-buckwheat ?"
Link grinned. There's something funny about
that Ye see, a buckwheat lot is a great place for
prairie hens. So one day I took the old gun, and
the powder and shot you gave me for carrying you
home that night, and went in, and scared up five
or six, and fired at 'em, but I did n't hit any. Wad
came along and yelled at me. Don't you know
any better 'n to be trampling down the buck-
wheat ?' says he. 'Out of there, quicker !' And
he took the gun away from me. But he 'd seen
one of the hens I started light again on the edge
of the buckwheat; so he went in to find her.
' You 're trampling the buckwheat yourself!' says
I. No, I aint,' says he; 'I step between the
spears; and I'm coming out in a minute.' He
staid in, though, about an hour, and went all over
the patch, and shot two prairie chickens. Then
Rufe came along, and he was mad enough, 'cause
Wad was treading down the buckwheat. Come
out of that !' says he, 'or I '11 go in after ye, and
put that gun where you wont see it again.' So
Wad came out; and the sight of his chickens
made Rufe's eyes shine. Did ye shoot them in
the buckwheat ?' says he. Yes,' says Wad; and
I could shoot plenty more; the patch is full of
'em.' Rufe said he wanted the gun to go and
shoot ducks with, on the river ; but he did n't find
any ducks, and coming along back he thought he
would try his luck in the buckwheat,-treading be-
tween the spears! He had shot three prairie
chickens, when father came along, and scolded
him, and made him come out. 'I 've heard you
fire twenty times,' says father; you 're wasting
powder and ruining the crop. Let me take the
gun.' But you must n't ruin the crop,' says Rufe.
Father's a splendid shot,-can drop a bird every
time,-only he don't like to go hunting very often.
He thought 't would pay for him to go through the
patch once; besides, he said, if the birds were get-
ting the buckwheat, we might as well get the birds.
He thought he could tread between the spears!
Well, since then," said Link, we've just made a
hunting-ground of that patch, always treading be-
tween the spears till lately; now it's got so tram-
pled it never '11 pay to cut it; so we just put it
through. See that hen "
There was a sound of whirring wings, a flash, a
loud report, a curl of smoke-a broken-winged
grouse shooting down aslant into the buckwheat,
and a young hunter running to the spot.
That's the way he does it," said Rufe, getting
up from the grass.
He greeted Jack good-naturedly, inquired about
Snowfoot, heard with surprise of Vinnie's arrival,
and finally asked if Jack would like to try his hand
at a shot.
"' I should," replied Jack, if it was n't for tread-
ing down your buckwheat."
That's past caring for," said Rufe, with a
laugh. Here, Wad, bring us the gun."
Is that your land the other side of the fence ?"
That lot belongs to old Peakslow," said Rufe,
speaking the name with great contempt. And
he pretends to claim a big strip this side, too.
THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.
That's what caused the feud between our fami-
He hates you pretty well, I should judge," re-
plied Jack; and he told the story, as Vinnie had
told it to him, of her encounter with Peakslow on
the deck of the schooner.
"He's the ugliest man!" Rufe declared, red-
dening angrily. "You may thank your stars
you 've nothing to do with him. Now take
the gun,"-Wad had by this time
brought it,-" go through to the fence
and back, and be ready to fire the
moment a bird rises. Keep your dog
back, and look out and not hit one of
Peakslow's horses, the other side of the ..
"He brought home a new horse
from Chicago a day or two ago," said '
Wad; "and he's just been out there 3
looking at him and feeling for ring-
bones. If he's with him now," he
added, "and if you should happen to
shoot one of 'em, I hope it wont be the .
Jack laughed, and started to go -''
through the buckwheat. He had got ,.i-
about half-way, when a hen rose a few ',
feet from him, at his right. He was '
not much accustomed to shooting on
the wing; and it is much harder to hit -
birds rising suddenly, at random, in
that way, than when they are started
by a trained dog. But good luck made
up for what he lacked in skill; and at ",
his fire the hen dropped fluttering in
the grass that bordered the buck- -
I'll pick her up !" cried Link; and
he ran to do so; while Wad carried Jack
the powder and shot for another load.
But I ought not to use up your ammunition in
this way !" Jack protested.
I guess you can afford to," replied Wad. It
was mostly bought with money we sold that fawn
Jack was willing enough to try another shot;
and, the piece reloaded, he resumed his tramp.
He had nearly reached the fence, when a bird
rose between it and him, and flew over Peakslow's
pasture. Jack had brought the gun to his shoulder,
and was about to pull trigger, when he remem-
bered Peakslow's horses, and stopped to give a
hasty glance over the fence.
Down went the gun, and Jack stood astonished,
the bird forgotten, and his eyes fixed on an object
What Wad said of their neighbor having brought
out a new horse from Chicago, together with what
: }--. ", '" -
SHOT ON THE WING.
the captain of the Heron" said of one of Peaks-
low's span being a light roan, rushed through his
thoughts. He ran up to the fence, and looked
eagerly over; then gave a shout of joy.
After all his futile efforts to find him, chasing
about the country, offering rewards, scattering
handbills, there was the lost horse, the veritable
Snowfoot, grazing quietly, in the amiable Mr.
Peakslow's pasture !
(To be continued.)
THE FEAST OF DOLLS.
THE FEAST OF DOLLS.
By WILLIAM E. GRIFFIS.
HERE are two little Japanese girls who, every
year, enjoy the Feast of Dolls. Do you know
them? No ?
Well, then, I '11 tell you about Komme and Lugi,
for these are their names. If they lived in America,
they would be called Little Plum and Cedar, for
these are what the words Komme and Lugi mean.
KOMME AND LUGI.
The Feast of Dolls comes once a year,-on the
third day of March. It is the greatest day of the
year for girls. The boys do not care much about
it, because their great day, called the Feast of
Flags, comes on the fifth day of May.
Lugi and Komme are both of them school-
children, and study very hard. When a holiday
comes, they enjoy it very much, for they are glad
to lay down their books, which are full of curious
Japanese and Chinese letters. So, last March, on
the day before the Feast of Dolls, they washed the
ink off their hands, hung up their copy-books, and
laid aside their cakes of ink and ink-stones with
more than usual care. Japanese children rub what
we call India ink on a stone, and write with this
kind of ink altogether.
After coming home from school, they had an
early supper; for their mother wanted plenty of
time to arrange the dolls and toys on tables, and to
do this requires as much time as Santa Claus re-
quires to fill stockings or to trim Christmas-trees.
So the two sisters were soon in bed, with their
heads on their curious little pillows, made of a piece
of wood with a cushion on top of it. Their mother
saw that they were safe under the covers, and then
said: "o yasumi nasare," which means rest
well," and which people in Japan say, instead of
" good-night," as a bed-time kiss.
Finally they fell asleep, and then their mother
began to prepare the toys and the dolls, and the
dolls' dinner and tea-service, and sweetmeats and
dainty food for her darlings and their doll-friends.
Nearly every large house in Japan has a smaller
house beside or near it, which is fire-proof. In this
storehouse the valuable things are kept. The
servants went to this house and brought a great
many boxes into the largest room of the dwelling.
Then Komme and Lugi's mamma and papa opened
the boxes and arranged the tables. Everything in
the boxes was wrapped up in silk. They were
kept quite busy for three hours. Then, after ad-
miring the brilliant show, which they knew their
darling Komme and Lugi would enjoy so much,
the Japanese mamma and papa went to bed.
The little girls rose earlier than usual the next-
morning. They quickly dressed, putting on their-
best robes of red crape and curiously-figured silk,
and went first to their parents, as Japanese chil-
dren always do, and wished them good-morning."
They did not eat much breakfast, as they were too.
eager to see their dolls.
Now, how many dolls did these little girls have,
do you suppose? It was a Feast of Dolls, you
must remember! One? Two? Four? Five?
Guess again. Ten? More than ten; you would
hardly believe it, but they had over a hundred:
dolls. Japan is, above all others, the land for dolls..
Some of them were two hundred years old.
Think of that! They had belonged to Komme's
great-grandmother's great-grandmother. I sup-
pose you would have called them Methusaleh's
daughters. Their faces were very dark with age;
their gilt ornaments were all tarnished; but, strange
to say, their dress was still fashionable in Japan.
Fashions do not change there every few months,
but remain just the same for centuries. Then
there were dolls which had belonged to Komme's
grandmother and to her mother, and it was like a
great Thanksgiving party at home, when grandpa
and papa and mamma and all the children meet
together. Only they were dolls.
But they were very different from anything in
PRUDHOMME AND THE LITTLE ARMY.
There were Mikados and Mikados' wives, and
Tycoons and Tycoonesses, and ladies and gentle-
men of the Court, boy-babies and girl-babies, and
young Japanese ladies and young Japanese gentle-
men. All were dressed in a manner entirely differ-
ent from any American dolls. The Mikado's wife
and ladies of the Court wear their hair far down
their backs, and have on a kind of loose pantaloons
of cherry-red silk. The Tycoon had on a very
high black cap perched on the front part of his
head, and he and his officers and men always wore
swords in their silk girdles. Indeed, it looked to
me, when I went into Komme's house, as if all the
different kinds of Japanese I had ever seen, either
in the palace or on the street, had suddenly become
small, and were sitting on Komme's table. Some
of these playthings were only six inches high ; some
about a foot tall; but Lugi's favorite doll was four
feet high, from the top of the puffs on her head to
the soles of her sandals.
But the dolls were only part of the show. There
were tables to eat from, and to play games on.
Some were for checkers; some for "proverb"
cards. As for the dishes and cups and bottles, and
things to eat out of and with, they were too many
to count, and yet they were nearly all different
from our table-service. Then there were dogs
and cats and deer and wild boars, fishes and lob-
sters, all made to play with, and very pretty.
Then there were tiny racks and horses to hang
clothes upon, and on these everything belonging
to a girl's or a lady's dress was hung. Do you
think it strange that among them all was not one
hat or bonnet, one pair of boots, or one frock?
Japanese ladies never wear any of these, and yet
they have very pretty dresses, and look very neat,
and dress very becomingly.
All children's playthings are only the tiny copies
of what their parents and grown folks play with-I
mean what they use. So I found, when I went to
see Komme's father, and looked in upon their fun,
that everything they were playing with was just
like what I saw the Japanese fathers and mothers
use. They did not have any railroads in Japan
then; so everybody had to travel in a kago, which
is a kind of basket, or box, carried by men.
Komme and Lugi had plenty of traveling-boxes
and trunks, made of sandal-wood and camphor-
wood, and several handsome kagos. They played
taking the Mikado to Kioto, and all the make-
believe lords and ladies followed them. When
they arrived in Kioto, they were very hungry, and
all sat down to dinner.
How I wish you could have seen that dinner,-
that real Feast of Dolls. Each table was only about
four inches square, but on it were rice and fish and
ginger and radishes and beans and tea and buck-
wheat cakes. I suppose the dolls all enjoyed it;
but they left the feast uneaten. Still, it was good
Japanese food. There was no bread, no beef, no
cheese, no pies, no milk, no coffee, for the Japanese
people very seldom eat or drink these things, and
Japanese dolls, never.
After the feast they made some of the dolls
dance. They put the Mikado on his throne, and
brought up the Tycoon and all the lords and
gentlemen to bow to him. They made each doll
bow its head and touch the floor with its forehead.
Then they made the ladies play on the koto, a kind
of Japanese harp. Komme made the dolls go
through the motions, while Lugi made the music.
By and by it was time for the dolls to be put to
bed, and then their curious sleeping-coats were put
on, and each head was laid on its pillow. By this
time mamma found that it was nearly time for her
darlings to go to sleep also.
The Feast of Dolls in Japan lasts only one day,
but the display of toys is kept up for several days.
Soon you shall hear all about the Feast of Flags.
But now I must say what all Japanese boys and
girls and everybody else in Japan say when they
PRUDHOMME AND THE LITTLE ARMY.
PRUDHOMME was a contemporary of Napoleon,
-a French avocat, or lawyer as we Americans would
call him. He was an author, and in his later years
became a strong Republican, and wrote many books
against Royalty. He was the author of The
Revolution of Paris," Crimes of the Queens," &c.
By the Royalists he was called a mediocre barrister
-a low, mischievous fellow. We should hear the
other side, however, before we decide whether he
was so bad a man as represented by the Royalists.
Whether he was very bad or not, certain it is that his
meddlesome ways often led him into sorry scrapes.
Here is an account of one of these, translated from
the Courrier des Etats Unis, which will specially
interest American boys and girls. Our artist, you
will see, has caught the very spirit of the scene:
"Prudhomme had been called one day to the pal-
ace of the Emperor, and was obliged to wait in the
PRUDHOMME AND THE LITTLE ARMY.
cabinet devoted to the studies of the King of Rome.
After having examined everything in the room, his
attention was arrested by a large flat table, on which
were ranged in lines of battle about two thousand
little soldiers of admirable workmanship. This was
a period of playthings and objects of art. Every-
thing was scrupulously reproduced, even to the mil-
itary band, composed of drums, clarions, cymbals,
Chinese bells, and other instruments. One would
burst forth, and the rolling of the drums, with the
jingling of the Chinese bells, filled the room.
Prudhomme, alarmed, and fearing the' arrival of
the Emperor in the midst of this frightful uproar,
rushed to the knob, and turned it. But this had
no effect; the army was called out for a given
time, and nothing could stop it. Poor Prudhomme
thought he should become insane when the twelve
pieces of cannon began to go off! He opened the
"THE TWELVE PIECES OF CANNON BEGAN TO GO OFF."
have believed himself in Lilliput. A great copper
knob was placed at the extremity of the table.
Prudhomme was curious to know of what use this
could be. Whilst endeavoring to learn its utility,
he looked around him, and being perfectly sure
that he was alone, he turned the knob as one would
turn the handle of a door. Immediately the entire
little army began to march; the door of a fort was
thrown open, and twelve pieces of cannon were
unmasked. The military music, admirably imi-
tated by an interior mechanism hidden in the table.
window to allow the smoke to escape, and, hiding
himself behind a curtain, decided to conceal himself
from the Emperor, thinking the racket would cer-
tainly bring him in that direction. Happily, after
the firing of the artillery, everything became silent
"An attendant came a few moments after to
seek Prudhomme to conduct him to the Emperor.
The first words of the Emperor on seeing him
were: How pale you are, Monsieur Prudhomme !'
to which Prudhomme made no reply." .
FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS.
FRED is a lit-tle boy, but a great cry-ba-by. He cries in the morn-ing,
he cries at noon, he cries at night. He cries when he is washed, when
he is dressed, and when his hair is combed. He cries when he goes to
school, and when he goes to bed. He cries be-cause his milk is hot, and
be-cause his toast is cold; be-cause his jack-et is too old, and be-cause
his boots are too new. It is queer how much Fred finds to cry a-bout.
One day he went to see his Aunt Ma-ry. She gave him a nice thick
piece of gin-ger-bread. She thought that would make him smile. Oh,
no it made him cry. He just o-pened his mouth to take a bite, and
then burst out with a loud "boo-hoo !"
"Why, what is the mat-ter ?" said Aunt Ma-ry.
"This gin-ger-bread is too high up !" cried Fred.
"There, there! What a sil-ly boy !" said Aunt Ma-ry. Hark 1
hear mu-sic! The sol-diers are com-ing! Let us look out and see them.
go by said the kind aunt-y.
She put Fred up in a chair at the win-dow, and he saw the sol-diers
march by, and heard the mu-sic; and all the time he munched a-way at
the gin-ger-bread that was "too high up." By the time the last sol-dier
had passed, the gin-ger-bread was all gone.
Now Fred is a good lit-tle boy," said Aunt Ma-ry. But all at once
he be-gan to cry a-gain. Oh, dear! What is it now?" said Aunt-y.
"What are you cry ing a-bout this time ?"
Boo-hoo boo-hoo !" roared Fred. I can't 'mem-ber what I cried
a-bout be-fore the mu-sic came Boo-hoo boo-hoo !"
Aunt Ma-ry put on Fred's cap and took him home, and called the
"What are you go-ing to do with this boy ?" she said. "He cries all
the time !"
Let us all laugh at him ev-er-y time he cries !" said Mam-ma.
That will make too much noise," said Pa-pa. I think I '11 get him
the place of town-cri-er, and let him earn his liv-ing by cry-ing."
He can be a news-boy, and cry news-pa-pers !" said lit-tle Mol-ly..
"We might make a great dunce-cap, with CRY-BA-BY print-ed on it
in big let-ters, and make him wear it all the time he cries," said Sis-ter
Sue. That would make him a-shamed."
What do you say, Char-ley ? said Aunt Ma-ry.
FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS.
Set him up in the Park for a drink-ing fount-ain, and let streams of
wa-ter come out of his eyes all the time !" said Char-ley.
Well," said Aunt-y, I hard-ly know which is the best plan; but
some-thing must be done, or Fred will nev-er grow to be a man !"
BER-THA AND THE BIRDS.
LIT-TLE Ber-tha stood at the win-dow, one morn-ing in win-ter, when
there came a flock of snow-birds and lit on the tree and bush-es in the yard.
"Oh, you poor lit-tle bird-
ies You have no one to
I i1 'II give you any-thing to eat.
i' I '11 get you some nice
i i, i I crum bs."
', So she ran to mam-ma,
who gave her bread-crumbs
i ,! ', i' I and let her throw them
out-doors. She was much
S .' pleased to see the birds eat,
Sbi ut soon saw some-thing
S ... i that made her feel ver-v
I '' i bad-ly.
... ;. i 'i Oh, how cold your poor
S--- : lit-tle feet must be I 'll
Sl.---" -- i give you my dol-lies' shoes
S\ i and stock-ings-so I will!"
But when she came back
-.' the bird-ies were all gone.
:. .-_.".' ., Mam-ma told her that
*, the Good Fath-er had
,so made their lit-tle feet,
that they were in no need_
of such things to keep them warm. And then good lit-tle Ber-tha was.
quite hap-py a-gain.
JACK- IN -THE-PULPIT.
,,'.' _-1 :
I -'; .2
f^', ' ...
' *^ ,t !-,
,, ,, -%-, .y?-j T,' -' ---^'T .- =, i,
I"- '7'-' 1: ... .
How d'ye do, again! Glad to see
-dears. Do you know that, in very old tin
was the first month of the year? The
her of that honor long ago, but she has
about it ever since.
Her winds soon will be talking to
and trying to make them think it is tim
over some new leaves." I listened
last Spring. The moss declared that I
loud that she could not sleep. I felt si
was not I, but I quietly staid awake to
soon discovered that it was Mr. Meddles
He came romping through the woods,
everybody in our neighborhood; trying
them bad dreams.
First I heard him say to the dear tree
"Rub each other; show some spirit
for fun; break your brother's arm off, a,
he will scold; hit the next tree a little
maple, and too weak to strike back!
The poor, sleepy branches did-as he
and there was a regular family row up t
One would suppose he might be sati
But no; his fun was, not complete un
spoiled the solid comfort of our feeble
ferns and old leaves, and even the tiny th
So down he came, and made a grea
blew all the leaves about, calling out:
You foolish things to lie still here
might as well take a frolic. Jump up
race! Never mind the baby-flowers!
not always be made a blanket of. St
your rights, old leaves, and let the bloss
He actually slapped me in the fac
times! He put his arm around the
ferns and proposed a waltz; but he ali
them off their feet, and then laughed at them as he
pushed them back against the bank. The moss
slept away soundly, and only groaned once when
some pine cones came pounding down on her head.
But the next morning she began:
'-- "How you did -- When I informed her
that it was old March Wind who snored, and if she
did not believe me, she had better lie awake and
judge for herself.
I SERIOUS ACCIDENTS.
.WHAT a dreadful place a school-house must be,
and what shocking things happen there, if the talk
of school-children is to be relied upon Yesterday
'", i noon I heard a dozen of them speaking about the
various incidents of the day. It was impossible to
S, catch all they said, as three or four talked at once,
but I managed to learn these startling facts:
I *1 Nelly Jones coughed fit to split her sides!
r- Kitty Carson nearly died of laughing.
That Lawrence boy actually boiled over with rage.
The teacher's eyes shot fire.
Nelly Murray recited loud enough to take the roof
J LPIT. off the house.
Robby Fitz's eyes grew as big as saucers.
Tommy Hudson almost ran his feet off.
you, my Susie Jennings thought she'd burst.
ies, March Ellen Walters broke down completely !
y deprived And yet it was an ordinary school-day.
e to "turn I WONDER if my boys and girls ever study the
one night clouds,-not to find fancy-pictures, but to learn the
snored so different kinds. Jack has fine times watching all
ure that it the varieties. There 's your cirro cumulus, or
see, and I sender cloud; your cirrus, or curl cloud; your
)me Wind. cirro-stratus, or wane cloud; your cumulus, or pile
talking to cloud; your cumnulo-stratus, or twain cloud, and
g to give your nimbus, or storm cloud. They 're all different,
and all well worth knowing. Look into this matter,
-branches: my dears.
; anything SHOOTING LAWYERS.
nd see how
e,-she's a ONE day when I was at the Orkney Islands,"
Ha! that's said the wild duck in one of our conversations,
I saw an islander walking along with a gun on
told them, his shoulder and a game-bag in his hand. He was
here. met by a group of travelers from England, who
sfied then. had just landed.
til he had 'What sport?' cried one of them to the
folk,"-the islander. 'What sport have you had this morn-
ings under ing?'
'Well, nothing very great,' answered the man
t ado. He civilly enough. I 've only shot a brace of lawyers
when you "'What?' screamed the travelers. 'What!
and have a killed two lawyers, and talk about it as coolly as if
One can- you had only bagged a couple of birds '
and up for And so I have,' laughed the islander. There
oms freeze. is a bird here, a sort of puffin, that we Orkney folk
always call lawyers. Why, you did n't think I
ce a dozen meant men, did you?'
poor lady- "And," continued the wild duck, "while the
host twisted travelers thought it a dreadful thing to kill a lawyer
when the lawyer was a man, they thought nothing
at all of it when the lawyer was a uird. Just as if
a bird's life was n't worth as much to it as a man's
life to him. Humph Very queer, I think."
And with this the wild duck dived suddenly to
catch a little perch that he fancied for his dinner.
Very queer world this, altogether, Jack thinks.
IF this is n't the queerest thing," said a bright
little girl one day, in my hearing. I can't find
a sign of a stem on this Brazil nut."
That's because the stem held on tight to the
tree when the nut was picked off," said her com-
"Yes, I know," said the other thoughtfully;
"but in that case there 'd be some kind of mark
where the stem broke off. The fact is, it does n't
seem to have any stem-end at all."
Now what do you make of that, my chicks?
You 've many a time eaten Brazil nuts, or my
name 's not Jack; but did ever you ask yourself
how the nut had been fastened to the tree on which
it was growing?
There is an explanation, but Jack wants to hear
from the children before he says anything more
-on this subject.
A SEEDLING LIFTING A MILLSTONE.
TALKING of nuts, here's a story that the wind
brought to me the other day. It had been printed
in some newspaper, and most likely it is perfectly
true, though Jack does n't vouch for it:
"Walton Hall had at one time its own corn-mill, and when that
-inconvenient necessity nolonger existed, the millstone was laid in an
orchard and forgotten. The diameter of this circular stone measured
five feet and a half, while its depth averaged seven inches throughout;
its central hole had a diameter of eleven inches By mere accident
.some bird or squirrel had dropped the fruit of the filbert-tree through
.this hole on to the earth, and in 1812 the seedling was seen rising up
through that unwonted channel. As its trunk gradually grew through
this aperture and increased, its power to raise the ponderous mass of
stone was speculated on by many. Would the filbert-tree die in the
:attempt? Would it burst the millstone, or would it lift it? In the
-end the little filbert-tree lifted the millstone, and in 1863 wore it like
.a crinoline about its trunk, and Mhi. Watertown used to sit upon it
-under the branching shade."
A SILK-LINED HOUSE.
I HEARD two little boys down by the brook to-
.day, talking about their fathers' houses, and boast-
ing how grand they were. Johnny said his-house
had a.velvet carpet in the parlor, and lace curtains
:at the windows. Willie said his house had splendid
glass chandeliers, that sparkled like diamonds;
.and the walls were beautifully painted. I thought
I would like to tell them about a house very much
more wonderful than those they lived in, because
:it is builded by a small insect.
This house is made by a kind of spider that lives
in California, and is called the mason-spider. His
house is very marvelous for such a little fellow to
-make all by himself, without any hammer, or saw,
-or trowel, or axe, or nails, or plaster, or any such
things as men use in building; and yet his mansion
is fit for a little queen; for it is lined throughout
,with white silk !
This spider's house is nearly as large as a hen's
egg, and is built of a sort of red clay, almost as
handsome as the brown stone they are so proud of
in New York city. It is cylindrical in shape. The
top opens with a little trap-door, which is fastened
with a tiny hinge, and shuts of itself. The door
and inside are lined with the most delicate white
silk, finer than the costliest dress ever worn by a
Mr. Spider builds his house in some crevice, or
bores a cylindrical hole in the clay, so that all is
concealed from view except this tiny trap-door.
When he sees any enemy approaching, he runs
quickly to his silk-lined house, swings open the
little door, goes in, and, as the door shuts tightly
after him, holds it firmly by placing his claws in
two openings in the white-silk lining of the door,
just large enough to admit his little hands or feet,
whichever you choose to call them; and here,
nestled in this luxurious retreat, he bids defiance to
I heard all about this spider from a gentleman
who had been to California, and had brought home
one of these red-clay, silk-lined houses. He was
showing it to some children as they were ,il:i,
near me. I wish you all could have seen it.
LOOKING AT A THING WITH DIFFERENT EYES.
ONE day Pat O'Reilly left his hoe lying on the-
grass, close beside me.
Along came a bird and a turtle, and the hoe
instantly caught their attention.
Umph grunted the turtle. See that back-
breaker! One of those things killed my cousin."
"Pe-week !" said the bird, softly. If there
is n't a worm-finder! Many a fine dinner it's
turned up for me !"
Just then the ox, raising his head from the grass,
glanced across the meadow.
"Ugh the mean little man-plow What good
is it compared with one of our fine ox-plows, I'd
like to know ? The contemptible little thing !"
Hail to thee, noble friend !" called a crow, out
of the blue sky. A cornfield where thou hast not
been is not worth visiting."
At this, a number of upstart weeds near by tossed
their heads scornfully.
By that time, a sort of slug was working its way
along the hoe-handle.
"Well, if this is n't the longest, most prodigious
bridge I ever was on," grunted the slug. "Catch
me trying to cross by it again. What is it good
Thereupon, a turnip, that had fallen from a
wagon, pricked up its stem a little.
Good for!" hlie echoed faintly. "Why, good
for raising turnips, to be sure. That blessed im-
plement did wonders for me and mine this season."
Here another echo came, but so faint, so like a
sigh that it was pitiful to hear it.
"Blessed implement did he call it ? I call it
a murderer. It killed my mother and all my
Poor little daisy !
HERE comes a letter all the way from Germany:
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: No other subscriber can be more delighted
than I am when your dear magazine arrives. I always read every-
thing, except the Latin story, which I could not understand. The
German and French stories I read and understand, but I never
send you translations, because they would reach you too late. My
school studies take up a good deal of time, and then I take walks in
the beautiful environs of this city, which is surrounded by hills, as
only toward the valley of the Neckar the country is flat. These hills
are covered with vineyards ; but south of the city there is quite a large
forest. On the summits of some of them benches are placed, and,
after a long walk, we often rest there and enjoy the lovely view ex-
tending around us.
The King of Wilrtemberg.has several villas in the neighborhood,
and frequently idlers are seen slowly walking through the rooms or
the gardens of these places. But not every one is allowed to enter.
Cards of admission must be procured, and the person who shows you
the grounds expects a remuneration.
A few weeks ago, we went to the Wilhelma, certainly the most
elegant of the villas near Stuttgart. It is built in the Moorish style,
and the gardens and hot-houses are renowned all over Europe, they
say. I wish Mr. Jack-in-the-Pulpit could have accompanied me
and admired the lovely plants. Only two or three kinds were
blooming, but these were so -r,- V dutifull that I could not want
to see more. First we passed .. :1. two houses containing only
rhododendron, but there was such a great variety that there seemed
to be fifty different kinds of flowers. The next house was filled with
camelia trees, also in bloom.
I need not join Mr. Haskins' ranks either; the law protects the
birds here. Is n't that good ?
Yours truly, ANNA HELMKEE.
Corydon, October 3d, 1874.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: About a week ago I was down in the woods
and found a strange plant, at least it is strange to me. I send you a
drawing of it, natural size; but the strange part is that stalk, leaves,
flower and everything, except the ends of the stamens, are of the purest
white-a clear, brittle-looking white. The leaves are nearly trans-
parent; the ends of the stamens are yellow.
If you will tell me, through the Letter-Box, what it is, or will pub-
lish this letter and picture, and let some of the readers of the Letter-
Box give their opinion, you will very much oblige a particular friend
of the ST. NICHOLAS. VILLA.
VILLA.-The plant which you describe is the "Indian pipe." It
is quite common in dark and rich woods, growing at the roots of
the trees, and turning black soon after being gathered. Your picture
and description of it are excellent.
IT will interest many of our readers to know that the story, "Why
Walter Changed his Mind," in this number, is founded upon fact, a
little girl of ten having actually saved a child of seven in the manner
GEORGE R. (and all who have asked us questions about binding
their numbers of ST. NiCHoLAS).-You will find in our January
Letter-Box an answer to William B. S., which will tell you how to
get a handsome bound volume in exchange for your twelve monthly
numbers. The publishers' notice at the bottom of our table of con-
tents, on the second cover-page, will also give you the information
If you will send us seventy-five cents, we will forward you, postage
paid, a handsome cover for vol. i., which almost any bookbinder will
put on for twenty-five cents. This cover will also make a very
useful portfolio, in which you can keep the numbers as they come
each month, and at the end of the year you can have them bound
in this same cover.
In sending your numbers by mail, be careful to write all that you
wish to say in the letter in which you send the dollar for the binding
and the thirty-two cents for return postage. Nothing must be written
on the magazines, nor must you write anything on the outside of the
package but the address of the publishers-"Scribner & Co., 654
Broadway, N. Y." Anything more than this may subject the whole
package to letter postage.
LULIE GRAY asks: "Can you tell me where I can find the follow-
ing quotation : My May of life is fallen into the sear, the yellow
The quotation is from Shakespeare's play of Macbeth," act v.,
scene 3, where it reads, however:
"My way of life
Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf."
Thus written, it was somewhat hard to understand, and the line,
as Lulie quotes it, is a reading of Johnson's, who first suggested
that the w might be an m inverted by a printer's error, and that
if read, My May of life," the meaning would be clear.
DEAR LETTER-BOX : A few evenings ago father read aloud to us
children a piece out of the "Atlantic" that was all about whether
animals have souls or not. The man that wrote the piece thought
they had. I don't feel sure of it myself, but I 'm sure that some an-
imals are mighty smart. We have a gray horse that is so gentle that
we children can drive it all around. One time he hurt his foot, and
was lame. So whenever we drove him we let him go very slow, be-
cause we did not want to hurt him. After awhile he got well again,
and now he is n't lame at all; but when we want him to go fast he will
look around, and if he sees no one but children behind him he will
pretend to be lame, so that we will not urge him. He tried it on
when father was behind him once or twice, but father laughed at him
and called him a lazy old fellow, so since then he doesn't try it with
father, but he doesn't mind what we call him.
- We keep five dogs, and they do a great many cunning things that
I should like to tell you about; but one thing that Speck (the black
and tan terrier) did the other day was smart and foolish, both at once.
I 'I tell you about it
Robins and other birds are in the habit of coming around our back-
door a great deal to pick up the crumbs, and Speck is very fond of
chasing them. One day he chased them about till they all flew up
into a tree. Now Speck gets his dinner every day by begging for it,
that is, standing up on his hind legs and crossing his fore-paws and
shaking them. So now if he did n't just go under that tree and
stand there for 'most a half-an-hour waiting and begging for the birds
to come down You could n't help but laugh to see him.
Yours respectfully, JImtm D.
C. M. LEWis writes: "I wish you would tell me when the day
'Michaelmas' comes, and also what it is noted for."
"Michaelmas comes on the 29th of September. It derives its
name from its being the day, appointed in the calendar of the Romish
Church, for the celebration of the feast of St. Michael. It was formerly
chosen as the time for the election of civil magistrates throughout the
different provinces of England, and was also noted for the custom of
eating roast goose upon that day,-a practice so old that it has never
been traced to its origin. The fact that Queen Elizabeth once ate
goose on the 29th of September, at the house of a certain earl, has
been stated as a reason for the observance; but the "Michaelmas
goose" is known to have been eaten before her reign.
H. B. F., and others.-Of the boys and girls who sent answers to
the conundrum picture, those whose lists contained more than seven
mistakes did not receive honorable mention.
Edward Dudley Tibbits' challenge "to make more than 34 words
in common use out of the word ENLIGHTEN," has received a ready
acceptance from a large number of boys and girls, and with the fol-
lowing result: Ernest E. Hubbard sends a list of 134 words; Willie
S. Bums and Walter L. Cowles send lists of 73 words each; R. L.
Masseneau and Walter B. Snow, each 70; J. Stratton and James B.
Herrick, each 63; Nanno Fife, 62; Carleton Brabrook and John
Spafford, each 61; Forrman C. Griswold and Frank Russell Miller,
each 60; Ruth and Mabel Davison, 60o; S. R. C., Howard G. Nott,
May Trumbull and Lucy Barbour, each 57; Arthur D. Potter and.
Franklin W. Kellogg, each 56; Maggie Selby, 54; E. S. Richardson,
John 0. C. Ellis and Lizzie Johnson, each 53; Mary L. Smith, Louise
Quintard, Lilla M. Hallowell and AI. N. S., each 5r; "Pittsburgh,"
H. H. De Barr, Jamie S. Newton, Florence E. Lane, Arthur WV.
Hall and George L. Webster, each 50; Will E. Brayton, 49; E. L.
Johnson, William H. Baker and K. E. B., each 48; Klyda Richard-
son, 47; Willie E. Mayer, 46; Richard Aldrich, L. Wickawee, Ada
Y. Wood, "Captain Jack," Henry R. Baker, Katie T. Hughes,
Edward Van Voorhis and James B. Baker, each 45; Lillian G.,
"Castor and Pollux" and Lyman A. Cheney, each 44; Fred M.
Thomas, 43; V. R. C. and Fred A. Pike, each 42; Nellie Richards,
Helen B. Fancharl and "Violette," each 41; George H. Gardner
and "A Subscriber," each 40; C. W. and M. P., each 39; Henry
R. Gilmhnan, 39; Robert B. Corey, 37; Stella Clarke, 36. Nicholas
Brewster, Jr., sends a list of io6 words-77 in common use, IT geo-
graphical and i8 not in common use; Herbert M. Lloyd, a list of 1o2
words -about x5 not in common' use; and William G. Wilcox, 50 in
common use, and 27 others.
Irving W. James' challenge concerning the word "Perpendicular,'
has also met with a general response, as follows: John Ruggles
Slack sends a list of 650 words; Maggie T., a list of 420 words; John
0. C. Ellis, 324; Willie S. Burns, 324; Fannie C. Johnson, 270;
Mary L. Smith, 257; Alice A. B., 238; May Trumbull and Lucy
Barbour, 218; M. G. Bates, 210; "Florence," 206; Elsie L. Shaw
and Rosa M. Raymond,'each 180o; HenryR. Gilman, 177; "Bessie,"
150; Ada Y. Wood, 140; William J. Eldridge, 132; Helen B. Fan-
charl, 126; Robert B. Corey, 112.
VWm. H. S. sends a list of 80o5 words obtained from "Metropoli-
tan; Arthur J. Burdick accepts Joseph Morse's invitation to "try
again," and this time sends a list of 600 words; James R. Parsons
sends 570; Robert B. Corey, 515; and Ada Y. Wood, 472.
From "Cumbcrlond," Mina K. Goddard has derived 329 words;
Daisy Lee, 300; and Ada Y. Wood, 244. Ada also sends 312 words
from "Perambulations," and May Trumbull and Lucy Barbour have
made 433 from the same word.
Eva and Lizzie Kleinhaus have made 84 words out of the letters
of the word '" Carpet."
HARTFORD GRANDMA."-It was a real disappointment to us not
to be able to find a place in ST. NICHOLAS for your capital rhymed
answer to our conundrum picture., The lines have afforded much
amusement to all who have seen them, and made the editors wish to
hear from the author again.
MARY G. Dolce far niente is an Italian phrase, and means "de-
DEAR ST NICHOLAS: I am very much interested in your maga-
zine, and this morning I thought I would write you a few lines. I
live in Columbus, Indiana, situated on the east fork of the White
River. It is a small town, having between four and five thousand
inhabitants. Some people say it was settled before Chicago. It is
now rapidly growing, and is promising to be a fine city. We have
water-works, gas, woolen-mills, wheel-factory, and a very fine new
court-house and jail. The court-house is tie finest in the State, ex-
cept the Indianapolis court-house, which is not yet completed. We
have also a fine public school.-Yours truly,ESLIR
THE army of Bird-Defenders will be ready to undertake a grand
campaign during the Summer months of this new year. It is receiv-
ing accessions by whole battalions as the time for the return of the
birds approaches. To begin with, Hollie Paxon sends the names of
a company of fifty boys and girls, who are now pledged to the de-
Sense of the birds: Anna Dougherty, Katie Stanley, Lizzie Waters,
Mattie Cheming, Anna Seibert, Mary Henderson, Lizzie Thomas,
Etta Winer, Flora Robinson, Nellie Stanley, Lizzie Stanley, Lizzie
Reid, Lizzie Elston, Gussie Richardson, C. Rose, Geo. Steward,
Eddie Lesein, Anna Dinkhom, Martha Walker, Hannah Lusting,
Anna Ohero, M. Levinberger, Maria Gunn, Nellie Mortz, Jesse
Rowe, Gussie Minor, Martha Brothers, Lottie Degroodt, Lulu Allen,
Annie Smith, Hettle Walker, Tennie Degroodt, Willie Paxson,
Freddie Paxson, Emma McGinnes, Kate Rice, Nonia Glenn, D. Cor-
storphen, Bella Herring, Ella Stephenson, Mollie Parker, Fannie
Kerney, S. Reynolds, C. Riley, T. Osborne, Mollie Murphy, L.
Worack, Flora Worack, Harry Livenberger, Hollie Paxon.
KATIE H. ALLAN sends the following list: Hannah A. Seabury,
Carrie W. Crandall, Fannie G. Gladding, Lizzie H. Vernon, Mary
M. Swinburne, Eloise P. Hazard, Anna C. Kelley, Annie M. Wilcox,
Lillie C. Kenyon, Mattie B. Simmons, Maria J. Barker, Nellie L.
Bryer, Bessie S. Allan, Mamie L. Allan, Mattie A. Stevens, Mamie
M. Engs, Minnie C. Tracy, Susie L. Griffith, Ella L. Peckham'and
Katie H. Allan.
ALLIE G. RAYMOND sends the following names: Dana Ellery,
Allie Fay, Hattie L. Kendall, Connie S. Weston, Raymond G., Hal
S. Howard, Charlie H. Howard, Emma F. Howard, Minnie G.
Howard, Percy D. Stuart, Harold F. Garson, Jamie Ross, Katie
Ellis, Arthur Elliot, Charlie Elliot, Lolo D. Warren, Carrie Preston,
Cora S. Ashton, Mabel G. Ashton, Fred Bell, Gertie H. Norton,
Irwin Percy, Arthur Percy, Nellie R. Harris, Allan H. Sherwin,
Bertie G. Sherwin, Edie L. Sherwin, Robbie G. Fielding, Lily Stanton,
Daisy Stanton, Bessie .11. Carleton, Ernest C. Duncan, Fred S.
Duncan, Harry L. Duncan, Florence G. Kingsley, Edith F. Willis,
Clifford A. Parker, Leslie Bartlett, Alfred Stearns, Sylvie D. Bertram,
Helen G. Lewis, Howard E. Allison, Edgar Loring, Winthrop J.
Nicholson, Alice Vr. Denham, Ethelwyn Rossiter, Allie G. Raymond.
DAISY LEE joins the army, and sends a list as follows: Eunice
Cecil, Blanche Clifford, Ida Lee, Carrie Bell, Lily Bell, Robbie Clif
ford, Launcelot Lee, Daisy Lee, Georgie Clark, Lilla Clark.
And here are the names of some California recruits, sent by J. N.
Moore: Eddie Soper, James Dodd, George Scroder, John Murphy,
Earnest Rouse, Clarence Esterbrook and C. Leland; Carrie Heim,
Belle Bird, Mollie Smith, Nettie Castle, Belle Henry, Ella Young,
Nettle Berglar, J. N. Moore.
"A BROTHER" sends the names of Emma, Eugene, Maggie anc
Dannie Van Vleck; and other names have been received as follows:
C. M. Lewis, Irving 5F'ish, A. A. Caemmerer, 0 E Reunir, Famnk
M. MacDonald, Theodore M. Purdy, C. C. Anthony, Lenie J. Olm-
sted, Kittie M. Olmsted, Mamie Doud, Charlie Lupton, Kate P.
Lupton, Bettie Peddicord, blina K. Goddard, Alonzo E. Locke,
Newton Wyckoffand Gerty Wyckoff.
DEAR EDITORS : I am only ten years old; but I like the ST. NICH-
OLAS so much, I thought I would try to do something for it. So I
tried how many times I could put the word "Eke" into a word
square of three letters. I put it in forty-two times. I enclose
copy. Please ask in the Letter-Box if some one will do any better.
From your friend, ANONYMOUS.
With the above note, came forty-two neatly written word-squares
with occasional repetitions, all made on the word "Eke." For wan
of space we can give only five of them.
N E PEN BED YE W R E D
EKE EKE EKE EKE EKE
WET NET DEN KEY FE W
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : Is the calla a lily, as many affirm? I d.
not think it is, and give as my authority "Wood's Class-Book o
Botany," published in 1848. I find in this that the Ethiopian calla i
a plant from the Cape of Good Hope; that it belongs to the order
aracea (or arard) and genus calla, which has only one other variety
the calla polustris, or Northern calla, from which the Laplanders en
tract a wholesome breadstuff. If it is proper to speak of the call
lily, I would like to know on what authority.-Yours respectfully,
ABBY G. SHAW.
We think the above objection a very proper one, and the statemer
substantially correct. At any rate, we find no authority for the us
of the term. But it would be well for the boys and girls to look int
Oconto, October 5, 1874.
To THE EDITOR OF ST. NICHOLAS: I will state to the boys of S'
NICHOLAS that they ought not to carry their guns pointed down, f
Harry Loudon told Kate to; but always carry it pointed up; for i
case it is pointed down, if it should go off, it might blow oft the to
of the person in front of you, or if it is pointed too low, it might blI
off your own, while if it be pointed up it will not be likely to hurt an
GEORGE L. THURSTON, age o10 years.
We would say to our little friend, and to boys who use guns, th
good sportsmen carry their guns as Harry did, but they do not poi
them at their toes. It would be very hard to carry a gun under yo
arm and point it at your toes. If a gun carried properly in this way
goes off accidentally, the toad will probably be discharged into the
ground. It would be very tiresome and awkward, especially when
walking under trees, to carry a gun upright, and if it is allowed to lie
on the shoulder in a horizontal position it is very dangerous indeed to
persons near by. But there is no way to carry a gun that is not
dangerous if you are not careful.
S. A. A.-ST. NICHOLAS says "No."
THE following note is from a little girl who is evidently a real Bird-
Montgomery. Nov. 30, 1874.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: My little sister Ollie had a bird given to
her the other day, that had been caught in a trap, and she put it in a
cage and fed it so good that he seemed to like it right well; but she
gave it to me, and I turned it right out. Mamma said that she ought
to, too; but she now says that she never wants to cage a bird again.
Please put Ollie and myself down as Bird-defenders.
KATIE T. HUGHES.
LILIAN G.-We do not enroll as Bird-defenders those who do not
send us their full names.
OUR frontispiece this month is from an illustration to La Fon-
taine's Fables," published by Cassell, Petter & Galpin. It was drawn
by Gustave Dore, the great French artist.
MARK W. COLLET says that Max Adeler wrote the verse quoted in
our January number commencing:
"'T is midnight and the setting sun."
He also says: She has not quoted it quite correctly; it should be
' far, far West,' instead of far glorious West.' "
THE writer of the following is certainly the champion egg-boy, so
Yonkers, January 13, 1875.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Reading in your issue of July, 1874, of the
number of eggs laid by hens of J. Ernest Farnham, it seemed so large
an amount (three thousand) that we kept account of the number of
eggs laid by our hens during the year 1874. We at first had twenty-
five hens, but at the end of the year only sixteen were left. These
hens laid during the year three thousand three hundred and twenty-
five eggs. They are common hens, of no particular breed.
GEo. A. FLAG.
The greatest number of eggs laid in any one day was nineteen.
Concerning the above picture:
I. WHAT fruit has the man on his table?
2. Why has he never any goods to sell ?
3. Why is the pair of shoes which he has just finished
mending, like Henry Clay and Daniel Webster ?
4. How do you know that he will never make another
shoe after the one in hand ?
5. How do you know that his hat could contain every-
thing he owns ?
6. Why are his goods immortal ?
7. What style of pleasuring do these shoes represent ?
8. Why may they be supposed to be rheumatic ? A. S.
WHOLE, I am a vessel; change my head, and I am a
bird; again, and I am an enclosed ground; again, and
I am a line. A. c. B.
THE egotist my first employs-
It completes his bliss;
The schoolboy finds it in a noise,
The lover in a kiss.
When on the field, in dread array,
Opposing legions wait the fray;
When trumpets sound and banners wave,
The watchword, Victory, or the grave;
Where er my second may be found,
The bravest knights will there abound.
What though my third the soldier spurns,
With undisguised disdain;
To it the farmer gladly turns,
To cultivate the plain.
My whole a gallant warrior's name,
The idol of the fair;
A wizard celebrates his fame-
You 'll find my subject there. E. L. c. G.
I. BEHEAD ain animal, and leave capable. 2. Behead
a large fish, and leave to listen ; behead again, and leave
a vessel. 3. Behead loosen, and leave want. 4. Behead
to draw back, and leave a ledge; again, and leave a
measure. 5. Behead a flower, and leave a black sub-
stance. 6. Behead a tree, and leave a curved structure.
A. C. B.
I. FRONT. 2. A precious stone. 3. An instrument
of torture. 4. Animals. NIP.
5875.] THE RID:
THE finals and primals name one of the most dis-
tinguished sculptors of modern times. j. Lethargy. 2.
Strange. 3. An abode. 4. A medley. 5. Conceited.
6. To unite. RUTHVEN.
I AM hard, and bright, and fleeting;
My fond heart with love is beating;
Yet you idly toy with me.
Toy with me? Aha! first catch me!
Upward look, admire and watch me;
Listen to my melody.
There, you 've broken me What made you ?
I am mortal, I would aid you;
Kill you also, if I could !
Silken soft, yet born to sorrow;
Far too frail to see to-morrow;
I am chiefly made of wood.
I. CURTAIL a country, and leave a coin. 2. Curtail
a marine animal, and leave a body of water. 3. Curtail
a gem, and leave a fruit; again, and leave a vegetable.
4. Curtail a flower, and leave kitchen utensils. 5. Cur-
tail a waterfowl, and leave a beverage. 6. Curtail a long
gown, and leave to plunder. 7. Curtail scarcely suf-
ficient, and leave to examine closely. A. c. B.
TRANSMIUTATIONS.-A New Puzzle.
(THE solution to each Transmutation consists of a
single word, which tells what the letter becomes. One
syllable of this word has the sound of the letter, and the
other syllables express the conditions under which the
letter becomes the right answer. Thus the answer to
the first is Deranged, or D-ranged.)
I. A letter is made crazy by being placed in order
2. A letter becomes an island when surrounded by a
belt. 3. A letter is pleased when set on fire. 4. A
letter falls in love when it is beaten. 5. A letter is
hated when it is examined. 6. A letter becomes a sailor
when it leaves the house. 7. A letter is filled with crys-
tals when it becomes a creditor. 8. A letter becomes
musical when it is made thick. 9. A letter changes its
shape when empty. 10. A letter is seen when it is
spotted. II. Another is seen when taken in the hand.
12. When a letter is perforated it draws near the ocean.
13. It costs money for a letter to be thoughtful. 14. A
letter is always slandered when it becomes noted.
What letters are they ? CHARL.
MY whole is a gem. Behead me, and I am a noble-
man; curtail me, and I am a fruit; curtail me again,
and I am a vegetable; behead and transpose me, and I
am genuine; transpose me again, and I am one of
Shakespeare's characters. E. B. H.
THE first is in vast, but not in great;
The second is in match, but not in mate;
The third is in latch, but not in gate;
The fourth is in lure, but not in bait;
The -fifth is in day, but not in date;
The sixth is in love, but not in hate;
The seventh is in talk, but not in prate;
The eighth is in price, but not in rate;
The ninth is in life, but not in fate;
The tenth is in tremble, but not in shiver ;
The whole is an American river. RUTHVEN.
(Make three words of the above picture.)
DOUBLE DIAMOND PUZZLE.
MY first, an article, is found
In common use the world around;
The last of all, my next is shown-
That nothing follows it you 'll own;
My third names places for safe-keeping,
Used both in waking and in sleeping;
My fourth means something bright of hue-
Like sunset clouds that flush the blue,
As beauty's cheek bright blushes do;
My fifth may be the friend you claim,
For any girl a pretty name;
My sixth expresses what is lighted-
As skies with stars to men benighted;
My seventh a simple letter brings,
That often means a hundred things.
My first a consonant is found,
Quite carelessly we roll it round;
My next you do when, play forsook,
Your mind is fixed upon your book;
My third, as often as he chooses,
The artist in his studio uses ;
My fourth, in poet's nomenclature,
Is always heavenly in its nature;
My fifth expresses, as you 'll see,
Something given out by you or me;
My sixth, a pen-but understand,
It needs no ink or guiding hand;
My seventh, with contradictions rife,
Begins all evil, ends all strife. J. P. B.
r. I KNOW I have nice gloves. 2. Is it true that hent
hatch ducks' eggs ? 3. Did you see papa rise in the
midst of them ? 4. Don't wake Nap, lest he bite you
5. Yes, I am going to start for Europe to-morrow. 6
A clever artisan, Francis Conway by name. 7. Tha
naughty boy with arms akimbo stoned a cat. 8. Gol
conda has a large trade in diamonds. A. P. R.
A PICTORIAL ENIGMA.
(The central picture represents the whole word, from the letters of which the words represented by the other pictures are to be formed.)
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN FEBRUARY NUMBER.
REVERSALS.-T.'Part-trap. %. Paws-swap. 3. Liar-rail. 4.
-Bat-tab. 5. Raps-spar. 6. Snub-buns. 7. Bard-drab. 8.
DROP-LETTER PUZZLE.-Never condemn what you do not under-
REBU'S.- I hear the noise about thy keel,
I hear the bell struck in the night,
I see the cabin-window bright,
I see the sailor at the wheel.
PUZZLE.-Clio, one of the nine Muses.
COMBINED SQUARE-WORD AND DIAGONAL.--Warp, Area, Rein,
SQUARE-WORD.-Vassal, Ancile, Scarce, Sirdar, Alcade, Leered.
TRIPLE ACROSTIC.-Level, Unity, Trooper, Enclose.
REVERSIBLE DIAMOND PUZZLE.-L, Wed, Lever, Den, R.
STAR PUZZLE.- B
D A W
ANSWERS TO RIDDLES IN JANUARY NUMBER were received previous to January 18, from Mary C. Foster. Frank S. Halsey, Eddie H.
Eckel, James J. Ormsbee, R. M. Carothers, Egbert P. Watson, Jr., Constant E. Jones, Llewellyn W. Jones, Florence Graham, Arnold
Guyot Cameron, Bessie H. Van Cleef, J. B. C., Jr., K. H. Allan, Lottie Ellis, Horace U. Kennedy, Fannie M. MacDonald, Minnie Wilson,
Guerdon H. Cooke. "Betsy Trotwood," Fred M. Osgood, Clarence Dellam, Emma Larrabee, Mary J. Tilghman, Wilson E. Skinner,
Emma P. Morton, Fred B. Collins, Jessie Barnes, "Plymouth Rock," C. C. Anthony, Philip Gray, Martin D. Atkins, H. Wigmore, Helen
B. Fancharl, Blanche Nichols, Nellie Grensel, "Pierce," Mamie and Annie Newell, Louise J. Olmsted, Homer Bush, Clotilde F. Stem,
Addie S. Church, W. H. Rowe, Jessie Ames, Nellie S. Colby, Arthur J. Burdick, Lizzie C. Wells, A. A. D., Fannie E. Winchell, "A Con-
stant Reader," Frances M. Woodward, Thomson M. Ware, Julia Dean Hunter, Robert Van Voorhis, Jr., Lizzie Van Voorhis, Mark W. C.,
George F. Curtis, "Grandmother and her Children," May Keith, Frank Havens, Edward Roome, Little Cluy," Alexis I. M. Coleman,
Octavia Ficklin, Meta Gage, Maggie B. Hilliard, Katie Hilliard, Bessie W. Prince, and George Crocket.
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