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 Front Cover
 The knight and the castle
 Poll tadpole
 Eight cousins
 Baby's skies - The boy-sculpto...
 Cold gray stones
 Pleasant-spoken
 The grasshopper
 About heraldry
 The skipping-rope - The cradle...
 The naughty little grand-niece...
 The feast of flags
 A live meteor
 Poor Puck!
 The young surveyor
 The baker and the tobacconist
 Queen Blossom
 The ginger-bread boy
 Jack-in-the-pulpit
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover
 Spine


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UF00065513_00021
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5/4/2007 1:48:24 PM -


St. Nicholas, vol. 2, no. 7
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Full Citation
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Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00021
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas, vol. 2, no. 7
Series Title: St. Nicholas.
Alternate Title: Saint Nicholas
Physical Description: 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Publisher: Scribner,
Publication Date: -c1943.
 Subjects
Subjects / Keywords: Literature for Children
Genre: Children's literature
Periodicals
serial   ( sobekcm )
 Notes
General Note: Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
General Note: Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: notis - ocm0176
oclc - 7405657; (DLC)SF 89099153
oclc - (DLC) 2006255186; 55136171
System ID: UF00065513:00021

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Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    The knight and the castle
        Plate
        Page 393
        Page 394
        Page 395
        Page 396
        Page 397
    Poll tadpole
        Page 398
    Eight cousins
        Page 399
        Page 400
        Page 401
        Page 402
        Page 403
        Page 404
        Page 405
        Page 406
    Baby's skies - The boy-sculptor
        Page 407
        Page 408
    Cold gray stones
        Page 409
        Page 410
    Pleasant-spoken
        Page 411
        Page 412
        Page 413
        Page 414
    The grasshopper
        Page 415
    About heraldry
        Page 416
        Page 417
        Page 418
        Page 419
    The skipping-rope - The cradle of noss
        Page 420
        Page 421
    The naughty little grand-nieces
        Page 422
        Page 423
        Page 424
        Page 425
    The feast of flags
        Page 426
        Page 427
        Page 428
    A live meteor
        Page 429
        Page 430
        Page 431
    Poor Puck!
        Page 432
        Page 433
    The young surveyor
        Page 434
        Page 435
        Page 436
        Page 437
        Page 438
        Page 439
        Page 440
        Page 441
    The baker and the tobacconist
        Page 442
    Queen Blossom
        Page 443
        Page 444
        Page 445
        Page 446
        Page 447
    The ginger-bread boy
        Page 448
        Page 449
    Jack-in-the-pulpit
        Page 450
        Page 451
    The letter-box
        Page 452
        Page 453
    The riddle-box
        Page 454
        Page 455
        Page 456
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text






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THE KNIGHT AND THE CASTLE.
PROM A PICTURE BY GUSTAVE DORE.

















ST. NICHOLAS.




MAY, 1875.





THE KNIGHT AND THE CASTLE.

BY REBECCA HARDING DAVIS.


"THERE he is!" whispered Tom Flecker, as
he passed the new pupil's door. The boys were
marching in a line into the Latin room (you always
marched at Cramhem h.ll,, and dared not stop;
but they looked in sideways. It was against rules
(three marks) to leave a door open, but that new
pupil's doorwas banging all day long.
That's him! Crackey He's got a fire !
Roastin' apples gasped Tom.
The boys nearly stopped at that, and shoved up
in a gang, staring in. In a year they had only
seen black registers in the house, which it was
against rules (two marks) to stand near; and here
were a fire-place and a roaring fire I The new pupil
had made it out of paper (grammars, Tom said)
and corn-cobs and chunks of wood with pine-knots
in them. He was standing in front of it, blowing
it, with his cheeks puffed out, and as they stopped
he stopped and winked at them They marched
on, with a sort of sickness of soul or stomach creep-
ing over them. Tom Flecker kicked his Caesar
under the bench, and felt better; but little Ted
Norris fell out of line, and stood still, looking in.
It seemed as if he could not get away from that
roasting apple.
Him a pupil? Bah-h i" said Tom, behind his
desk-lid, to the next boy. "Why, his name's
Watkins. He's goin' to Europe; wants to rub up
his I-talyan and learn the French horn. Wright
told me."
Meanwhile, Ted clung to the door-jamb staring
in at Watkins, just as he used to stare at the lion
when Uncle Chauncey took him to the Museum.
Watkins took no notice of him; even the lion
never had wanted to chew up such a thin little mite
VOL. II.-26.


of a chap. Something in Watkins' flowered dress-
ing-gown and great shock of red hair and whiskers,
and the fire and apples, put Ted unaccountably in
mind of the Museum. Oh, the tigers and the
learned pig, and the wax Chinamen that bobbed
their heads at you, and the delicious mixed smell
of barn-yards and oranges over. all I Whenever
Uncle Chauncey came home from college, he made
the rounds of every show in town, and took Ted,
and his pockets used always to be full of peanuts.
Ted winked his eyes to be rid of the tears, but
did not move, though he saw Tom Flecker beckon-
ing savagely to him, and saying, You'll catch
it I" behind his slate. He always did catch it.
Ted was the least and the quietest boy in school,
but he broke more rules than any one of them. It
seemed as if he never could understand or grow
used to rules, any more than the giraffe at the
Museum had grown used to the wooden benches
about him, or knew they were there when he went
staring up at the ceiling for palm-trees.
Ted was not looking for palm-trees, but for his
Uncle Chauncey and his mother and home, which
all somehow seemed to lie behind the apples and
fire.
Hillo Come here, youngster !"
It made Ted jump. Watkins had a voice like a
bass drum; he gnashed his words, too, ih a ferocious
way. Ted walked in quietly, though he heard the
Latin master calling the roll, and there was a dead
silence that minute at the words, Norris Secun-
dus Tom Flecker, in class, sat aghast as he
saw Ted go in and the door close behind him.
Watkins looked at him from head to foot, as the
lion very likely did at the mouse.


VOL. II.


No. 7.






[MAY,


THE KNIGHT AND THE CASTLE.


"Why-you-you 're hungry he said, with a
sort of gulp.
Oh, yes responded Ted, cheerfully. I've t
been here three months. When you get up here I
in the morning, you could eat your boots; and at
night "
"Well?"
You wish you had eat 'em, sir."
Ted put his thin little hands over his hollow
stomach and tried to laugh, but did not.
Here, here I've nothing but these apples !
If I'd brought sandwiches or jam or -- Bless
my soul!" watching Ted in amazement as he
crammed the hot, crackling mess into his pockets
and cap, and, finally, his mouth, and then nodded
gravely.
I 'm very much obliged to you, sir. And so is
Tom Flecker and all the other fellows."
Just at that moment Ted caught sight of some-
thing in a frame over the mantel-shelf, and stopped
eating. It was a picture. Now there were no
pictures in Cramhem Hall. There were maps-
millions of maps, and there was a Temple of Time
hung over the dinner-table, and you studied the
dates on a pillar of it at each meal; and there were
green and red plaster affairs that looked nice at a
distance, but turned out to be scales of the lengths
of rivers and heights of mountains ; and there was
a photograph of old Doctor Cramhem in the dor-
mitory, that scowled at you all the time you were
asleep. When you reached the fourth class, you
began to draw squares and angles; but it was
against rules (four marks) to make even a dog or
giant on your slate under the sums. But this was
a real picture. It had human beings on it. (The
editor of ST. NICHOLAS has one just like it, by the
way, and very likely, when she reads this account
of Ted, she will put it near this very page for you
to see.)
Well, what now ?" growled Watkins.
It's a castle and a knight And there must
be an ogre in front that we don't see. A horse
always shies that way when he meets an ogre,
sir."
You seem to be very familiar with knights and
ogres, for a person of your age," looking curiously
down at him.
Oh, no; I never knew them. It's my Uncle
Chauncey. He's very well acquainted with a great
many."
Oho! Is your Uncle Chauncey to be seen in
this neighborhood ?"
"No." Ted was silent a minute or two, and
then added, in an exceedingly slow voice: "He
has sailed by this time. He's gone to my papa
and mamma. They're in Europe. There's plenty
of knights and castles there-plenty of 'em."


"And what are you doing here ? "
Everybody said Cramhem Hall was 'an insti-
ution where boys were brought up to the mark.'
[ am dreadfully below the mark, sir."
"And they're bringing you up to it, hey?"
snarled Watkins. I see I see "
"It's three thousand one hundred miles from
here to Europe," said Ted, speaking still more
slowly. I found that out of Mitchell's Primary.
The teacher said it was the only question I ever
knew in that book. You see, I think of it so
much. Sometimes, when I go to say my prayers,
I say that instead, without knowing what I am
about. 'Three thousand one hundred miles to
mamma. Three thousand one hundred miles.'
It's a long way, sir," trying again to laugh.
Watkins only growled and looked at him.
" Norris Secundus," standing in the full light of
the fire, was such a very little fellow, his cheeks
were so thin and white, his shoulders so narrow
and stooped, that even the most bearish Watkins
would have wanted to pick him up that minute,
lift him over the thousands of miles, and put him
on his mother's knee.
"How long is this-this sort of thing going to
last, you know ?" he broke out.
"They're to be gone for three years. They
thought by that time I'd be brought up to the
mark."
Watkins turned away, pulling his bushy red
beard. "Yes, three years will do the work for
you, my boy," he said after awhile.
Yes, sir."
The pale little face grew a trifle paler. It was
hard to know what the boy had expected, but he
had watched Watkins breathlessly as he turned
away. He was a babyish, stupid lad, as his teachers
said, and the blazing fire and the knight and castle
had somehow brought home very near to him; he
would not have been surprised for a moment if
Watkins had taken him pick-a-back, as the genie
always used to do with boys, and whisked off with
him across the sea to his mother-red hair, flowered
dressing-gown, and all.
There was a sharp tap at the door, and Professor
Knapp stood in the threshold. Professor Knapp
was the tallest and sallowest of all the teachers.
He opened and shut his big gray eyes as if they
were on hinges, and when he fixed them on you
you could not help your knees shaking under you.
"Norris, Theodore C.," he said, measuring off
the words, just as you would the multiplication
table. Report yourself to the Latin master, Nor-
ris, for penalty in class. The punishment for
entering another pupil's room without permission
is, as you are aware, two Greek verbs, to be recited
at evening recreation."


394








THE KNIGHT AND THE CASTLE.


I am not 'another pupil,' sir," interposed
Watkins (Ted saw that he faced the master with-
out blinking), "and I invited the boy into the
room."
Norris, you can retire."
Professor Khapp stood pointing to the door until
Ted had gone out of it.
Dr. Cramhem will doubtless explain to you,
Mr. Watkins, that he permits no interference with
the scholars while under his charge, even from
parents. You would not be allowed to interfere
with the workings of any machinery, and we have
a strong machine at work here, sir. A system,
plan, combination of rules,-you might call it a
mill, into which the raw material-boy-is put, and
from which it comes out a mathematician, linguist
-in a word, a scholar."
Little Norris is very raw material, I suspect,"
said Watkins. Very poor material."
Very poor indeed. A dull brain, Mr. Watkins.
Always foot of his class."
Very poor material as to bones or flesh, too, I
imagine. I should suppose the mill would crunch
him up before it was done with him."
Professor Knapp looked puzzled a minute, and
did not answer directly.
You should see Leonidas Small, number one
of the same class. A stupendous memory, sir I
have heard that boy recite page after page of dates
without the mistake of a comma. He carries home
trunks full of prizes."
He sits beside me at table," growled Watkins.
"A sneaking-looking dog. A liar in the grain, I
fancy."
"My business," said the Professor, severely, "is
to train the intellects of the pupils. Their morals
are not neglected. Dr. Cramhem lectures once a
week, and they attend chapel by daybreak every
morning."
The door was still open, and Watkins glanced
S through now and then into the class-room. Leon-
idas Small at one end of the class was rattling off a
Greek verb just as. easily as though he were chew-
ing sugar-candy, while Ted at the other end stared
stupidly at him.
The lesson for to-morrow," said the teacher,
"will end at page 120. Not too much for you,
Small ? "
Not a line, sir," said Small, glibly.
Rather rough on the stupid fellows," said
Watkins to the Professor.
"They have no right to be stupid. What boy
has done, boy can do, is our maxim," said Pro-
fessor Knapp, and went out.
Now I do not want any boy who reads ST. NICH-
OLAS to imagine a likeness between this school and
the one in which he is learning Greek verbs.


395


There never was but one Cramhem Hall in this
country.
When the class was dismissed, the teacher waited
until they filed past him.
Norris will report himself to Doctor Cram-
hem," he said.
"Whew What has the poor little rat done
now ?" said Tom Flecker, under his breath.
Ted thought all the boys looked sorry for him as
he crept out. He lagged up the stairs and tapped
feebly at the Doctor's door. His punishments had
been many and awful, but he never had been sent
to the Doctor before.
He saw dimly a reddish wooden table and a thin
black figure, with glaring spectacles, behind it.
He read out of a book. Norris, Theodore C.
Reported lowest average in every class during the
week. You are deprived of your holiday to-morrow
(Saturday), Norris, and are required to commit all
lessons in which you have failed during the week,
and recite them before night."
Ted stood shivering a' moment, and then went
right up to the table. It was so high that he had
to hold by both hands and stand on his tiptoes to
look up at the spectacles.
I can't do it, sir I 've tried and tried. When
I was with mamma I learned B-4, ba, k-e-r, ker,
Baker, and now I've got whole pages of ejuses and
cujuses, and words that are primitive and deriva-
tive, abstract and concrete.'"
There is no such word as 'can't,' sir," and the
Doctor went on reading: "'Reported insubor-
dinate. Refuses to eat his meals. Fell asleep
twice in class.' You will repair to your dormitory,
and remain there until to-morrow evening. You
will also receive personal chastisement at eight
o'clock to-night. Mr. Harrison will administer it.
You can go now."
Ted did not go. He came close up to the
Doctor's chair, and looked up at him with white
lips.
The oatmeal porridge makes me sick," he
said; I'm not used to it. And I'm stupid in
class because I lay awake sometimes all night-my
head hurts me so with the cujuses and ejuses.
Don't let them strike me, Doctor. I never was
struck."
Nonsense said the Doctor, not reading now
out of his book. "Are the diet and rules of the
school, which are scientifically perfect, to be altered
to suit every boy's whims ? You can go, sir."
Ted went, rubbing his thin palms together. He
was n't unreasonable. It was not to be expected
that with three hundred boys to manage, the Doctor
could examine into the condition of his stomach or
his headaches, much less pet and speak kindly to
him.







THE KNIGHT AND THE CASTLE.


But if he could only lay his head on his mother's
breast one minute!
He went slowly up the wide, bare hall to the
wider, barer dormitory. The walls were white;
there was not a grain of dust on the floor. The
long rows of little beds were covered and partitioned
with white. Beside his own bed a table had been
placed, on which were piled all his school-books.
It was recreation hour. He could hear the boys
out in the base-ball ground now. Ted sat down
quietly, and took up the topmost book. He was a
slow and dull, it is true, but a patient, gentle little
fellow, who always tried to do his best.
Substantives in the ablative of the feminine
gender "
But after he had said that a half-dozen times he
could not help wondering what the ablativee"
was. It might be a horse, as far as Ted knew.
The big empty dormitory was chilly and damp.
He shivered, and would have brought his overcoat
to put on, only it was against rules. He began to
think of how his papa had had his little bedroom
papered with the oddest pictures, and of the wood-
fire that used to be there, and how his mamma
used to sit on the great chair and hold him on her
lap, big boy as he was, and always tell him some
good funny story to sleep on" just before he
went to bed. To-night he was to be whipped.
Mr. Harrison would be here in an hour.
He began to study the grammar at that. It
would not do for him to think. But the pain in his
head grew heavier. He took up his geography.
His mamma used to teach him geography by
means of pictures. He liked that. He could tell
you what kind of trees or plants grew in any
country you could name, and the sort of people
who belonged to it; how they lived, and what kind
of work they did. But this was a different sort of
geography. His lesson to-day was the names of
all the rivers in Africa-a long black row.
Draha and Limpopo," he said a hundred times
over, beginning at the top of the page. Draha
and Limpopo."
It seemed as if the rows of beds and the black
chairs all had mouths, and said it with him-" Lim-
popo." He did not know what ailed him, the
stinging in his head was so sharp.
He laid it down on the pillow for a minute, and
his hand touched a roll of paper. It was the pict-
ure of the knight and castle 1 That queer new
pupil had sent it up to him.
Ted forgot the pain in his head as he opened it.
It seemed as if he knew the story of it now.
There was a boy a prisoner in that castle, and the
knight had gone to rescue him, and had been
driven off. The knight looked like his Uncle
Chauncey. But if Uncle Chauncey had come to


Cramhem Hall to-night he would not turn his back
on him and ride away.
He heard Mr. Harrison coming up the stairs.
He rolled up the picture and hid it under the pil-
low, pushed back the table with the books, and
then stood waiting. He shut his eyes. He
thought he should die before the whipping was
over, and he wished that he had written a letter to
his mamma.
"Norris !" said Mr. Harrison, laying his hand
on his shoulder. Teddy "
Mr. Harrison was the youngest of the teachers,
a little apple-cheeked man, who used to tell them
jokes in recess sometimes. He looked at Ted with
a very grave face, and then lifted him up and laid
him on the bed.
"I'm ready, sir," said Ted.
"You shall not be whipped to-night," said Mr.
Harrison. Wait one minute."
He went out and brought back a warm drink,
and then covered the boy up warmly.
"Lie still, until I come again," he said, and
hurried out.
In the hall he met Watkins. The two young
men had made acquaintance with each other.
I cannot strike that boy," said the teacher.
You can easily refuse to do it."
"Not so easily. If I interfere in the manage-
ment of this mill,' I lose my situation, and -
It does not matter for me, but I have an old mother
who is dependent on me, Mr. Watkins."
Wait for me one moment," said Watkins, and
he walked boldly up and rapped at the Doctor's
door.
Ted did not waken again. The two watchers
beside his bed heard him talk incessantly of his
mother and his Uncle Chauncey, who would carry
him off upon the horse.
When he opened his eyes the morning light was
shining full on his bed, and the boys were gone to
chapel. He saw first the books, and then Mr.
Harrison standing beside him.
I-I'm ready, sir," he said.
Then that queer fellow Watkins came suddenly
from behind the curtain. You never saw anything
so ferocious as his red hair and whiskers, or heard
such a growl as his voice was that morning.
"One moment, if you please, Mr. Harrison,
before the punishment begins," he said. I want
to tell this young man the story of my picture.
There was a boy shut up in that castle, and he was
condemned to shovel ablatives and Drahas and
Limpopos into his head by the bushel measure,
every day the year round."
"Yes, yes," cried Ted, rising on his elbow.
"And the knight was an uncle-well, I mean a
friend of his, who was going off on a long voy-


[MAY,






THE KNIGHT AND THE CASTLE.


age for a year and a day, and he thought he
would -"
Attack the castle ?"
"Attack the castle in disguise, and see how
things were going. And they were not going to
his satisfaction at all. So he carried off the
boy --'
There 's no boy on the horse," said Mr. Harri-
son.
But Ted was not so stupid as that. He scram-
bled up on his knees, his cheeks grew red, and his
eyes were fixed keenly on Watkins.
Carried off the boy ? he cried. Car-
ried off the boy-to his-his mamma. Oh, Uncle
Chauncey !"


And, with a pull, the red wig and whiskers were
off, and Ted was hugging him as though he would
strangle him.
There is very little more of this story to tell.
Uncle Chauncey engaged Mr. Harrison to come
with them as Ted's tutor, and they sailed across
the three thousand one hundred miles in a few
days.
This all happened years ago, and Ted is now a
hearty, happy fellow, with a head full of useful
knowledge.
But Cramhem Hall was burned down, and all
the professors are dead. Their system, therefore,
is not in use any more, and would be quite for-
gotten but for this story.


I_-'- : "'- ..-uL-----



. _--- ...- -_ .


A..
R2 .


With silver bells and cockle shells,
And maidens all a row.


MISTRESS MARY, quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?






POLL TADPOLE.


POLL TADPOLE.
(A Swamp Ballad.)

BY ROSE TERRY COOKE.






~- -- ~ -_ ....- --- -


THERE was a little pollywog,
The sprawling baby of a frog,
Hatched in a green and slimy bog
One pleasant day.
He had a puddle of his own,
To play and sleep in, all alone,
And dull as any other drone
He passed his life away.

Sometimes a steel-blue dragon-fly
Would poise a moment in his sky,
And look at him with glittering eye
As if he said:
" You little damp, unpleasant thing,
You never seem to know it's Spring;
Why don't you jump, or fly, or sing?
Not lie all day abed "

Sometimes a heron, lean and tall,
With flapping wings and horrid squall,
Would pollywoggy's heart appall
With open bill.
The little thing, half dead with fear,
Would scuttle off, for brown or queer,
His fat round carcass made good cheer,
A heron's crop to fill.

But as the year slipped slowly on,
And polly's days of shade or sun,
Just as they do for every one,
Too quickly went:
One day-oh, 'tis a dreadful tale !-
Our pollywog almost turned pale,
He felt a wiggle in his tail,
That he by no means meant.

He turned about with startled eyes,
And saw, with terror and surprise,
A black thing on the water rise,
Unseen before.


He shook himself, he swam about;
He could not steer -beyond a doubt
His tail had just slipped off, or out,-
Was gone forever more!

But if you have philosophy
(Which means what can't be helped, must be,
In spite of you, in spite of me,
No use to fret !)
You will commend this pollywog-
Poor discontinued baby-frog !-
For only hiding by a log,
Not splashing in a pet.

There, after many .a day and night,
Silent or stormy, dark or bright,
He felt a tickling on his right,
And on his left;
And, like a small potato-sprout,
A little foot came growing out,
And then another, just about
As little and as deft.

And soon behind each forward leg
Another budded like a peg,
As like the first as egg to egg,
But big and strong;
And longer, longer still, they grew,
Till he could jump as well as you;
Then over log and all he flew,
And croaked a little song.

He was so very glad to find
Four legs exactly to his mind,
Instead of one poor tail behind,
He quite forgot
How scared he felt to see them grow,
How sad to see his rudder go,
For now he vaulted high and low,
And sprung from spot to spot.


398


[IAY,








EIH OSIS 9


Oh, Jack! how dreadful it would be
If legs should grow on you or me,
From side to side, till each should be
Fit for a bog!
If suddenly "development"
Should turn and take a downward bent,
And you, who for a boy were meant,
Should dwindle to a frog!


But if you should, I beg of you
To keep this little tale in view,
And take it coolly, for 't is true
What can't be cured,
(This is the moral of my rhyme,)
Just wait, like polly in the slime,
And, by and by, there '11 .come a time
When it can be endured.


EIGHT COUSINS.

BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT.


CHAPTER IX.
-. ."- PHEBE'S SECRET.
i .4 ,HY do you keep smiling to yourself,
I /' 'ii Phebe?" asked Rose, as they were
Ii working together one morning, for
Dr. Alec considered house-work the
best sort of gymnastics for girls; so
i Rose took lessons of Phebe in sweep-
ing, dusting, and bed-making.
S I was thinking about a nice little
>i ,-' secret I know, and could n't help
..- smiling."
"* Shall I know it sometime ?"
Guess you will."
Shall I like it?"
Oh, wont you though !"
Will it happen soon? "
Sometime this week."
I know what it is The boys are going to
have fire-works on the Fourth; and have got some
surprise for me. Have n't they ?"
That's telling."
"Well, I can wait; only tell me one thing-Is
uncle in it ?"
Of course he is; there's never any fun without
him."
Then it is all right, and sure to be nice."
Rose went out on the balcony to shake the rugs,
and, having given them a vigorous beating, hung
them on the balustrade to air, while she took a
look at her plants. Several tall- vases and jars
stood there, and a month of June sun and rain had
worked wonders with the seeds and slips she had
planted. Morning glories and nasturtiums ran all
over the bars, making haste to bloom. Scarlet
beans and honeysuckles were climbing up from


below to meet their pretty neighbors, and the
woodbine was hanging its green festoons wherever
it could cling.
The waters of the bay were dancing in the sun-
shine, a fresh wind stirred the chestnut-trees with
a pleasant sound, and the garden below was full
of roses, butterflies and bees. A great chirping
and twittering went on among the birds, busy with
their Summer housekeeping, and, far away, the
white-winged gulls were dipping and diving in the
sea, where ships, like larger birds, went sailing to
and fro.
"Oh, Phebe, it's such a lovely day, I do wish
your fine secret was going to happen right away !
I feel just like having a good time; don't you?"
said Rose, waving her arms as if she was going
to fly.
I often feel that way, but I have to wait for my
good times, and don't stop working to wish for 'em.
There, now you can finish as soon as the dust set-
tles; I must go do my stairs," and Phebe trudged
away with the broom, singing as she went.
Rose leaned where she was, and fell to thinking
how many good times she had had lately, for the
gardening had prospered finely, and she was learn-
ing to swim and row, and there were drives and
walks, and quiet hours of reading and talk with
Uncle Alec, and, best of all, the old pain and
ennui seldom troubled her now. She could work
and play all day, sleep sweetly all night, and enjoy
life with the zest of a healthy, happy child. She
was far from being as strong and hearty as Phebe,
but she was getting on; the once pale cheeks had
color in them now, the hands were growing plump
and brown, and the belt was not much too loose.
No one talked to her about her health, and she
forgot that she had "no constitution." She took


EIGHT COUSINS.


399






EIGHT COUSINS.


no medicine but Dr. Alec's three great remedies,
and they seemed to suit her excellently. Aunt
Plenty said it was the pills, but as no second batch
ever followed the first, I think the old lady was
mistaken.
Rose looked worthy of her name as she stood
smiling to herself over a happier secret than any
Phebe had; a secret which she did not know her-
self till she found out, some years later, the magic
of good health.
'Look only,' said the brownie,
'At the pretty gown of blue,
At the kerchief pinned about her head,
And at her little shoe,'"

said a voice from below, as a great cabbage-rose
came flying against her cheek.
What is the princess dreaming about up there
in her hanging-garden? added Dr. Alec as she
fired back a morning glory.
I was wishing I could do something pleasant
this fine day; something very new and interesting,
for the wind makes me feel frisky and gay."
Suppose we take a pull over to the Island ? I
intended to go this afternoon; but if you feel more
like it now, we can be off at once."
"I do! I do! I'll come in fifteen minutes,
uncle. I must just scrabble my room to rights, for
Phebe has got a great deal to do."
Rose caught up the rugs and vanished as she
spoke, while Dr. Alec went in, saying to himself,
with an indulgent smile:
It may upset things a trifle, but half a child's
pleasure consists in having their fun when they
want it."
Never did duster flap more briskly than the one
Rose used that day, and never was a room
"scrabbled" to rights in such haste as hers.
Tables and chairs flew into their places as if alive;
curtains shook as if a gale was blowing; china rat-
tled and small articles tumbled about as if a young
earthquake was playing with them. The boating
suit went on in a twinkling, and Rose was off with
a hop and a skip, little dreaming how many hours
it would be before she saw her pretty room again.
Uncle Alec was putting a large basket into the
boat when she arrived, and before they were off
Phebe came running down with a queer, knobby
bundle done up in a water-proof.
We can't eat half that luncheon, and I know
we shall not need so many wraps. -I would n't
lumber the boat up so," said Rose, who still had
secret scares when on the water.
Could n't you make a smaller parcel, Phebe ?"
asked Dr. Alec, eyeing the bundle suspiciously.
No, sir, not in such a hurry," and Phebe
laughed as she gave a particularly large knob a
good poke.


Well, it will do for ballast. Don't forget the
note to Mrs. Jessie, I beg of you."
No, sir. I'll send it right off," and Phebe ran
up the bank as if she had wings to her feet.
We 'II take a look at the light-house first, for
you have not been there yet, and it is worth seeing.
By the time we have done that it will be pretty
warm, and we will have lunch under the trees on
the Island.
Rose was ready for anything, and enjoyed her
visit to the light-house on the Point very much,
especially climbing up the narrow stairs and going
inside the great lantern. They made a long stay,
for Dr. Alec seemed in no hurry to go, and kept
looking through his spy-glass as if he expected to
discover something remarkable on sea or land. It
was past twelve before they reached the Island,
and Rose was ready for her lunch long before she
got it.
Now this is lovely I do wish the boys were
here. Wont it be nice to have them with us all
their vacation ? Why, it begins to-day, does n't it?
Oh, I wish I 'd remembered it sooner, and perhaps
they would have come with us," she said, as they
lay luxuriously eating sandwiches under the old
apple-tree.
So we might. Next time we wont be in such
a hurry. I expect the lads will take our heads off
when they find us out," answered Dr. Alec, placidly
drinking cold tea.
Uncle, I smell a frying sort of a smell," Rose
said,'pausing suddenly as she was putting away the
remains of the lunch half-an-hour later.
So do I; it is fish, I think."
For a moment they both sat with their noses in
the air, sniffing like hounds; then Dr. Alec sprang
up, saying with great decision:
Now this wont do No one is permitted on
this island without asking leave. I must see who
dares to fry fish on my private property."
.Taking the basket on one arm and the bundle
on the other, he strode away toward the traitorous.
smell, looking as fierce as a lion, while Rose
marched behind under her umbrella.
We are Robinson Crusoe and his man Friday
going to see if the savages have come," she said
presently, for her fancy was full of the dear old
stories that all children love so well.
And there they are Two tents and two boats,
as I live These rascals mean to enjoy themselves,
that's evident."
"There ought to be more boats and no tents.
I wonder where the prisoners are ? "
"There are traces cf them," and Dr. Alec
pointed to the heads and tails of fishes strewn on
the grass.
"And there are more," said Rose, laughing, as


400


[MAY,






EIGHT COUSINS.


she pointed to a scarlet heap of what looked like
lobsters.
The savages are probably eating their victims
now; don't you hear the knives rattle in that
tent ? "
We ought to creep up and peep; Crusoe was
cautious, you know, and Friday scared out of his
wits," added Rose, still keeping up the joke.
But this Crusoe is going to pounce upon them
regardless of consequences. If I am. killed and
eaten, you seize the basket and run for the boat;


i-7.
I- -- .j-


nel bathing-clothes, which she had mistaken for
lobsters, and where she had fallen in a fit of merri-
ment when she discovered that the cannibals were
her merry cousins.
You good for nothing boys You are always
bursting out upon me in some ridiculous way, and
I always get taken in because I'm not used to such
pranks. Uncle is as bad as the rest, and it's great
fun," she said, as the lads came round her, half
scolding, half welcoming, and wholly enjoying the
double surprise.


.1.X
~~- ,OAE' v.


UNCLE ALEC'S RECEPTION.
there are provisions enough for your voyage You were not to come till afternoon, and


home."
With that Uncle Alec slipped round to the front
of the tent, and, casting in the big bundle like a
bombshell, roared out, in a voice of thunder:
"Pirates, surrender "
A crash, a shout, a laugh, and out came the
savages, brandishing knives 'and forks, chicken
bones and tin mugs, and all fell upon the intruder,
pummeling him unmercifully as they cried:
"You came too soon! We are not half ready !
You've spoilt it all! Where is Rose ?"
Here I am," answered a half-stifled voice, and
Rose was discovered sitting on the pile of red flan-


mamma was to be here to receive you. Everything
is in a mess now, except your tent; we got that in
order the first thing, and you can sit there and see
us work," said Archie, doing the hofiors as usual.
"Rose felt it in her bones, as Dolly says, that
something was in the wind, and wanted to be off at
once. So I let her come, and should have kept
her away an hour longer if your fish had not be-
trayed you," explained Uncle Alec, subsiding from
a ferocious Crusoe into his good-natured self again.
As this seat is rather damp, I think I '11 rise,"
said Rose, as the excitement lessened a little.
Several fishy hands helped her up, and Charlie


1875.1


401


.ar1







EIGHT COUSINS.


said, as he scattered the scarlet garments over the
grass with an oar:
We had a jolly good swim before dinner, and
I told the Brats to spread these to dry. Hope you
brought your things, Rose, for you belong to the
Lobsters, you know, and we can have no end
of fun teaching you to dive and float and tread
water."
"I didn't bring anything-- began Rose,
but was interrupted by the Brats (otherwise Will
and Geordie), who appeared bearing the big
bundle, so much demoralized by its fall that a red
flannel tunic trailed out at one end, and a little blue
dressing-gown at the other, while the knobs proved
to be a toilet-case, rubbers, and a silver mug.
Oh, that sly Phebe This was the secret, and
she bundled up those things after I went down to
the boat," cried Rose, with sparkling eyes.
"Guess something is smashed inside, for a bit
of glass fell out," observed Will as they deposited
the bundle at her feet.
Catch a girl going anywhere without a looking-
glass. We have n't got one among the whole .lot
of us," added Mac, with masculine scorn.
Dandy has; I caught him touching up his wig
behind the trees after our swim," cut in Geordie,
wagging a derisive finger at Steve, who promptly
silenced him by a smart rap on the head with the
drum-stick he had just polished off.
Come, come, you lazy lubbers, fall to work, or
we shall not be ready for mamma. Take Rose's
things to her tent, and tell her all about it, Prince.
Mac and Steve, you cut away and bring up the
rest of the straw; and you small chaps clear off
the table, if you have stuffed all you can. Please,
uncle, I'd like your advice about the boundary
lines and the best place for the kitchen."
Every one obeyed the Chief, and Rose was
escorted to her bower by Charlie, who devoted
himself to her service. She was charmed with her
quarters, and still more so with the programme
which he unfolded before her as they worked.
We always camp out somewhere in vacation,
and this year we thought we'd try the Island. It
is handy, and our fire-works will show off well from
here."
Shall we stay over the Fourth ? Three whole
days Oh, me what a frolic it will be "
Bless your heart, we often camp for a week, we
big fellows ; but this year the small chaps wanted
to come, so we let them. We have great larks, as
you'll see; for we have a cave and play Captain
Kidd, and have shipwrecks, and races, and all sorts
of games. Arch and I are rather past that kind of
thing now, but we do it to please the children,"
added Charlie, with a sudden recollection of his
sixteen years.


"I had no idea boys had such good times.
Their plays never seemed a bit interesting before.
But I suppose that was because I never knew any
boys very well, or perhaps you are unusually nice
ones," observed Rose, with an artless air of appre-
ciation that was very flattering.
"We are a pretty clever set, I fancy; but we
have a good many advantages, you see. There
are a tribe of us, to begin with; then our family
has been here for ages, and we have plenty of
' spondulics,' so we can rather lord it over the other
fellows and do as we like. There, ma'am, you can
hang your smashed glass on that nail and do up
your back hair as fine as you please. You can
have a blue blanket or a red one, and a straw
pillow or an air cushion for your head, whichever
you like. You can trim up to any extent, and be
as free and easy as squaws in a wigwam, for this
corner is set apart for you ladies, and we never
cross the line uncle is drawing until we ask leave.
Anything more I can do for you, cousin ? "
No, thank you. I think I '11 leave the rest till
auntie comes, and go and help you somewhere
else, if I may."
Yes, indeed, come on and see to the kitchen.
Can you cook ? asked Charlie, as he led the way
to the rocky nook where Archie was putting up a
sail-cloth awning.
I can make tea and toast bread."
Well, we '11 show you how to fry fish and make
chowder. Now you just set these pots and pans
round tastefully, and sort of tidy up a bit, for Aunt
Jessie insists on doing some of the work, and I
want it to be decent here."
By four o'clock the camp was in order, and the
weary workers settled down on Lookout Rock to
watch for Mrs. Jessie and Jamie, who was never far
from mamma's apron-string. They looked like a
flock of blue-birds, all being in sailor rig, with blue
ribbon enough flying from the seven hats to have
set up a milliner. Very tuneful blue-birds they
were too, for all the lads sang, and the echo of
their happy voices reached Mrs. Jessie long before
she saw them.
The moment the boat hove in sight up went the
Island flag, and the blue-jackets cheered lustily,
as they did on every possible occasion, like true
young Americans. This welcome was answered by
the flapping of a handkerchief and the shrill "Ra!
Ra! Ra! of the one small tar who stood in the
stern waving his hat manfully, while a maternal
hand clutched him firmly in the rear.
Cleopatra landing from her golden galley never
received a heartier greeting than Little Mum as
she was borne to her tent by the young folk, for
love of whom she smilingly resigned herself to
three days of discomfort. While Jamie immediately


402


[MAY,






EIGHT COUSINS.


attached himself to Rose, assuring her of his pro-
tection from the manifold perils which might assail
them.
Taught by long experience that boys are always
hungry, Aunt Jessie soon proposed supper, and
proceeded to get it, enveloped in an immense
apron, with an old hat of Archie's stuck a-top of
her cap. Rose helped, and tried to be as handy
as Phebe, though the peculiar style of table she
had to set made it no easy task. It was accom-
plished at last, and a very happy party lay about
under the trees, eating and drinking out of any
one's plate and cup, and quite untroubled by the
frequent appearance of ants and spiders in places
which these interesting insects are not expected to
adorn.
I never thought I should like to wash dishes,
but I do," said Rose, as she sat in a boat after sup-
per lazily rinsing plates in the sea, and rocking
luxuriously as she wiped them.
Mum is mighty particular; we just give 'em a
scrub with sand, and dust 'em off with a bit of
paper. It's much the best way, Ithink," replied
Geordie, who reposed in another boat alongside.
*" How Phebe would like this. I wonder uncle
did not have her come."
I believe he tried to, but Dolly was as cross as
-two sticks and said she could n't spare her. I'm
sorry, for we all like the, Phebe bird, and she'd
chirp like a good one out here, would n't she ? "
She ought to have a holiday like the rest of us.
It's too bad to leave her out."
This thought came back to Rose several times
that evening, for Phebe would have added much to
the little concert they had in the moonlight, would
have enjoyed the stories told, been quick at guess-
ing the conundrums, and laughed with all her
heart at the fun: The merry going to bed would
have been best of all, for Rose wanted some one to
cuddle under the blue blanket with her, there to
whisper and giggle and tell secrets, as girls delight
to do.
Long after the rest were asleep, Rose lay wide
awake, excited by the novelty of all about her, and
a thought that had come into her mind. Far away
she heard a city clock strike twelve; a large star
like a mild eye peeped in at the opening of the
tent, and the soft plash of the waves seemed call-
ing her to come out. Aunt Jessie lay fast asleep,
with Jamie rolled up like a kitten at her feet, and
neither stirred as Rose in her wrapper crept out to
see how the world looked at midnight.
She found it very lovely, and sat down on a
cracker keg to enjoy it with a heart full of the inno-
cent sentiment of her years. Fortunately, Dr. Alec
saw her before she had time to catch cold, for
coming out to tie back the' door-flap of his tent for


more air, he beheld the small figure perched in the
moonlight. Having no fear of ghosts, he quietly
approached, and, seeing that she was wide awake,
said, with a hand on her shining hair:
What is my girl doing here ? "
Having a good time," answered Rose, not at
all startled.
"I wonder what she was thinking about with
such a sober look ?"
The story you told of the brave sailor who
gave up his place on the raft to the woman, and
the last drop of water to the poor baby. People
who make sacrifices are very much loved and ad-
mired, are n't they ?" she asked, earnestly.
If the sacrifice is a true one. But many of the
bravest never are known, and get no praise. That
does not lessen their beauty, though perhaps it
makes them harder, for we all like :. "-' .. ," and
Dr. Alec sighed a patient sort of sigh.
"I suppose you have made a great many?
Would you mind telling me one of them ?" asked
Rose, arrested by the sigh.
My last was to give up smoking," was the very
unromantic answer to her pensive question.
Why did you ? "
Bad example for the boys."
That was very good of you, uncle Was it
hard ?"
I 'm ashamed to say it was. But as a wise old
fellow once said, It is necessary to do right; it is
not necessary to be happy.'"
Rose pondered over the saying as if it pleased
her, and then said, with a clear, bright look:
"A real sacrifice is giving up something you
want or enjoy very much, is n't it ?"
Yes."
"Doing it one's own self because one loves
another person very much and wants her to be
happy ?"
Yes."
And doing it pleasantly, and being glad about
it, and not minding the praise if it does n't come ?"
Yes, dear, that is the true spirit of self-sacri-
fice; you seem to understand it, and I dare say
you will have many chances in your life to try
the real thing. I hope they wont be very hard
ones."
"I think they will," began Rose, and there
stopped short.
Well, make one now, and go to sleep, or my
girl will be ill to-morrow, and then the aunts will
say camping out was bad for her."
I '11 go-good night! and throwing him a
kiss, the little ghost vanished, leaving Uncle Alec
to pace the shore and think about some of the un-
suspected sacrifices that had made him what he
was.


403






EIGHT COUSINS.


CHAPTER X.
ROSE'S SACRIFICE.
HERE certainly were larks" on
Campbell's Island next day, as
Charlie had foretold, and Rose
took her part in them like one
intent on enjoying every min-
ute to the utmost. There was
a merry breakfast, a successful
fishing expedition, and then
the lobsters came out in full force, for even Aunt
Jessie appeared in red flannel. There was nothing
Uncle Alec could not do in the water, and the boys
tried their best to equal him in strength and skill,
so there was a great diving and ducking, for every
one was bent on distinguishing himself.
Rose swam far out beyond her depth, with uncle
to float her back; Aunt Jessie splashed placidly in
the shallow pools, with Jamie paddling near by like
a little whale beside its mother; while the lads
careered about, looking like a flock of distracted
flamingoes, and acting like the famous dancing
party in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland."
Nothing but chowder would have lured them
from their gambols in the briny deep; that time-
honored dish demanded the concentrated action of
several mighty minds; so the "Water Babies"
came ashore and fell to cooking.
It is unnecessary to say that, when done, it was
the most remarkable chowder ever cooked, and the
quantity eaten would have amazed the world if the
secret had been divulged. After this exertion a
siesta was considered the thing, and people lay
about in tents -or out as they pleased, the boys
looking like warriors slumbering where they fell.
The elders had just settled to a comfortable nap
when the youngsters rose, refreshed and ready for
further exploits. A hint sent them all off to the
cave, and there were discovered bows and arrows,
battle clubs, old swords, and various relics of an
interesting nature. Perched upon a commanding
rock, with Jamie to splain things to her, Rose
beheld a series of stirring scenes enacted with
great vigor and historical accuracy by her gifted
relatives.
Captain Cook was murdered by the natives of
Owhyhee in the most thrilling manner. Captain
Kidd buried untold wealth in the chowder kettle at
the dead of night, and shot both the trusting vil-
lains who shared the secret of the hiding-place.
Sinbad came ashore there and had manifold ad-
ventures, and numberless wrecks bestrewed the
sands.
-Rose considered them by far the most exciting
dramas she had ever witnessed, and when the per-
formance closed with a grand ballet of Feejee


Islanders, whose barbaric yells alarmed the gulls,
she had no wotds in which to express her gratifica-
tion.
Another swim at sunset, .another merry evening
on the rocks watching the lighted steamers pass
seaward and the pleasure-boats come into port,
ended the second day of the camping out, and sent
every one to bed early that they might be ready for
the festivities of the morrow.
"Archie, didn't I hear uncle ask you to row
home in the morning for fresh milk and things ?"
"Yes; why?"
"Please, may I go too? I have something of
great importance to arrange; you know I was
carried off in a hurry," Rose said in a confidential
whisper as she was bidding her cousins good-night.
I'm willing, and I guess Charlie wont mind."
Thank you; be sure you stand by me when I
ask leave in the morning, and don't say anything
till then, except to Charlie. Promise," urged Rose,
so eagerly that Archie struck an attitude, and cried
dramatically:
By yonder moon I swear !"
"Hush! it's all right, go along;" and Rose de-
parted as if satisfied.
She's a queer little thing, is n't she, Prince ?"
"Rather a nice little thing, I think. I 'm quite
fond of her."
Rose's quick ears caught both remarks, and she
retired to her tent, saying to herself with sleepy
dignity:
Little thing indeed Those boys talk as if I
was a baby. They will treat me with more respect
after to-morrow, I guess."
Archie did stand by her in the morning, and her
request was readily granted, as the lads were com-
ing directly back. Off they went, and Rose waved
her hand to the islanders with a somewhat pensive
air, for an heroic purpose glowed within her, and
the spirit of self-sacrifice was about to be illustrated
in a new and touching manner.
While the boys got the milk Rose ran to Phebe,
ordered her to leave her dishes, to put on hei hat
and take a note back to Uncle Alec, which would
explain this somewhat mysterious performance.
Phebe obeyed, and when she went to the boat Rose
accompanied her, telling the boys she was not
ready to go yet, but they could some of them come
for her when she hung a white signal on her bal-
cony.
"But why not come now ? What are you about,
miss? Uncle wont like it," protested Charlie, in
great amazement.
"Just do as I tell you, little boy; uncle will
understand and explain. Obey, as Phebe does,
and ask no questions. I can have secrets as well
as other people; and Rose walked off with an air


404


[MAY,







EIGHT COUSINS.


of lofty independence that impressed her friends
immensely.
"It's some plot between uncle and herself, so
we wont meddle. All right, Phebe? Pull away,
Prince; and off they went, to be received with
much surprise by the islanders.
This was the note Phebe bore:

DEAR UNCLE: I am going to take Phebe's place to-day, and let
her have all the fun she can. Please don't mind what she says, but
keep her, and tell the boys to be very good to her for my sake.
Don't think it is easy to do this; it is very hard to give up the best
day of all, but I feel so selfish to have all the pleasure, and Phebe
none, that I wish to make this sacrifice. Do let me, and don't laugh
at it; I truly do not wish to be praised, and I truly want to do it.
Love to all from ROSE.

"Bless the little dear, what a generous heart
she has! Shall we go after her, Jessie, or let
her have her way?" said Dr. Alec, after the first
mingled amusement and astonishment had sub-
sided.
Let her alone, and don't spoil her little sacri-
fice. She means it, I know, and the best way in
which we can show our respect for her effort is to
give Phebe a pleasant day. I 'm sure she has
*earned it; and Mrs. Jessie made a sign to the
boys to suppress their disappointment and exert
themselves to please Rose's guest.
Phebe was with difficulty kept from going straight
home, and declared that she should not enjoy her-
self one bit without Miss Rose.
She wont hold out all day, and we shall see her
paddling back before noon, I'll wager anything,"
said Charlie; and the rest so strongly inclined to
his opinion that they resigned themselves to the
loss of the little queen of the revels, sure that it
would be only a temporary one.
But hour after hour passed, and no signal ap-
peared on the balcony, though Phebe watched it
hopefully. No passing boat brought the truant
back, though more than one pair of eyes looked
out for the bright hair under the round hat; and
sunset came, bringing no Rose, but the lovely color
in the western sky.
"I really did not think the child had it in her.
I fancied it was a bit of sentiment, but I see she was
in earnest and means that her sacrifice shall be a
true one. Dear little soul I '11 make it up to her
a thousand times over, and beg her pardon for
thinking it might be done for effect," Dr. Alec said
remorsefully as he strained his eyes through the
dusk, fancying he saw a small figure sitting in the
garden as it had sat on the keg the night before,
laying the generous little plot that had cost more
than he could guess.
Well, she can't help seeing the fire-works, any-
way, unless she is goose enough to think she must
hide in a dark closet and not look," said Archie,


who was rather disgusted at Rose's seeming ingrat-
itude.
She will see ours capitally, but miss the big
ones on the hill, unless papa has forgotten all about
them," added Steve, cutting short the harangue
Mac had begun upon the festivals of the ancients.
"I 'm sure the sight of her will be better than
the finest fire-works that ever went off," said Phebe,
meditating an elopement with one of the boats if
she could get a chance.
"Let things work; if she resists the brilliant
invitation we give her she will be a heroine," added
Uncle Alec, secretly hoping that she would not.
Meanwhile Rose had spent a quiet, busy day
helping Dolly, waiting on Aunt Peace, and steadily
resisting Aunt Plenty's attempts to send her back
to the happy island. It had been hard in the morn-
ing to come in from the bright world outside, with
flags flying, cannon booming, crackers popping,
and every one making ready for a holiday, and go
to washing cups, while Dolly grumbled and the
aunts lamented. It was very hard to see the day
go by, knowing how gay each hour must have been
across the water, and how a word from her would
take her where she longed to be with all her heart.
But it was hardest of all when evening came and
Aunt Peace was asleep, Aunt Plenty seeing a gossip
in the parlor, Dolly established in the porch to
enjoy the show, and nothing left for the little maid
to do but sit alone in her balcony and watch the
gay rockets whizz up from island, hill, and city,
while bands played and boats laden with happy
people went to and fro in the fitful light.
Then it must be confessed that a tear or two
dimmed the blue eyes, and once when a very bril-
liant display illuminated the island for a moment,
and she fancied she saw the tents, the curly head
went down on the railing, and a wide-awake nas-
turtium heard a little whisper:
I hope some one wishes I was there !"
The tears were all gone, however, and she was
watching the hill and island answer each other
with what Jamie called "whizzers, whirligigs, and
busters," and smiling as she thought how hard the
boys must be working to keep up such a steady fire,
when Uncle Mac came walking in upon her, saying
hurriedly:
Come, child, put on your tippet, pelisse, or
whatever you call it, and run off with me. I came
to get Phebe, but aunt says she is gone, so I want
you. I've got Fun down in the boat, and I want
you to go with us and see my fire-works. Got them
up for you, and you must n't miss them, or I shall
be disappointed."
"But, uncle," began Rose, feeling as if she ought
to refuse even a glimpse of bliss, perhaps -"
"I know, my dear, I know; aunt told me; but


405







EIGHT COUSINS.


no one needs you now so much as I do, and I insist
on your coming," said Uncle Mac, who seemed
in a great hurry to be off, yet was unusually
kind.
So Rose went and found the little Chinaman with
a funny lantern waiting to help her in and convulse
her: with laughter trying to express his emotions in
pigeon English. The city clocks were striking nine
as they got out into the bay, and the island fire-
works seemed to be over, for no rocket answered
the last Roman candle that shone on the Aunt-hill.
Ours are done, I see, but they are going up all


hands with delight as she recognized the handsome
flower.
"Of course it is! Look again, and guess what
those are," answered Uncle Mac, chuckling and
enjoying it all like a boy.
A wreath of what looked at first like purple
brooms appeared below the vase, but Rose guessed
what they were meant for and stood straight up,
holding by his shoulder, and crying excitedly:
"Thistles, uncle, Scotch thistles! There are
seven of them-one for each boy! Oh, what a
joke !" and she laughed so that she plumped into


it, .. s. --~---;


- ~ /
lf -gm;
-n -:F













THE FIRE-WORKS.


round the city, and how pretty they are," said Rose,
folding her mantle about her and surveying the
scene with a pensive interest.
Hope my fellows have not got into trouble up
there," muttered Uncle Mac, adding, with a satis-
fied chuckle, as a spark shone out, "No; there it
goes! Look, Rosy, and see how you like this one;
it was ordered- i .: ,ii in honor of your coming."
Rose looked with all her eyes and saw the spark
grow into the likeness of a golden vase, then green
leaves came out, and then a crimson flower glowing
on the darkness with a splendid luster.
"Is it a rose, uncle?" she asked, clasping her


the bottom of the boat and stayed there till the
brilliant spectacle was quite gone.
That was rather a neat thing, I flatter myself,"
said Uncle Mac in high glee at the success of his
illumination. Now shall I leave you on the
island or take you home again, my good little
girl?" he added, lifting her up with such a tone of
approbation in his voice that Rose kissed him on
the spot.
"Home, please, uncle, and I thank you very,
very much for the beautiful fire-work you got up for
me. I'm so glad I saw it; and I know I shall
dream about it."


(To be continuedd)


4o0


[MAY,








THE BOY-SCULPTOR. 407


BABY'S SKIES.

BY M. C. BARTLETT.

WOULD you know the baby's skies?
Baby's skies are mamma's eyes.
Mamma's eyes and smile, together
Make the baby's pleasant weather.

Mamma, keep your eyes from tears,
Keep your heart from foolish fears,
Keep your lips from dull complaining,
Lest the baby think 't is raining.







THE BOY-SCULPTOR.

BY EMILY NOYES.


FOUR hundred years ago, in the gardens of the
Medici Palace, might be seen a party of the young
friends of Piero de Medici, who had been dismissed
from the learned talk of the savants and artists who
surrounded the hospitable table of Lorenzo the
Magnificent," as he is often called.
There had been an unusual fall of snow for the
warm climate of Italy, and it lay before them on
the ground in that soft, tempting whiteness that
school-boys like so well. It covered the statues and
fountains, and made grotesque figures of the
shrubs, which were cut in curious forms.
Let us make statues, and decorate this gal-
lery," proposed one, a youth of fourteen.
"Of what ?" said another.
Of the snow," replied the first speaker, named
Michael Angelo; and with merry shouts they
plunged into the snow, without a thought of their
costumes of velvet and lace, carrying it and piling
it in masses at different places along the gallery,
and shaping it into some rude resemblance of the
human form, which did not much differ, I dare say,
from the old snow-man of the boys of the nine-
teenth century.
But Michael Angelo saw in the distance the
statue of a faun, headless and much injured, which
had been brought from some old ruin.
Ah! I will make a head to this faun," and he
began shaping and molding the damp snow.
As he worked, his companions gathered around


him and looked on, forgetting their own sport in
watching him, as gradually the head began to
appear and grew under his touch into a real face
with good features.
Then standing, watching the effect of each mo-
tion, He must be sardonic,-fauns laugh! said
the boy as he gave an upward turn with his.
finger to the corner of the mouth. There that
is not bad; and one can always do what one loves.
I have drawn in the love of sculpture with the milk
of my nurse. Her husband is a sculptor, and, from
a baby, I have played making statues."
Stepping back to get a good look at his work, he
ran against some one, and, to his amazement, dis-
covered it was the great noble himself, who, fol-
lowed by all his guests, had entered the gallery
the youthful artists were decorating for them, while
they were so engaged as not to perceive them.
They all stopped to comment on the statues, and
approaching the faun, Lorenzo said:
This is rather the work of one entering upon
the career of a master, than the attempt of a novice.
But, Michael, do you know that this is a statue of
an old faun, and the old do not have all their
teeth ? You have given him more than we have.
Is it not so, my friends ? "
You are right, my lord; and, with one stroke,
Michael knocked out a tooth and made the hollow
in the gum which showed its loss.
Every one was delighted with this intelligent and


THE BOY-SCULPTOR.


407







THE BOY-SCULPTOR.


discriminating act, and applauded him with en-
thusiasm, showering praises and prophesies of
future fame on the young sculptor.
Among the noble guests were his father and his
uncle, who had sternly discouraged all Michael's
attempts at art, and deemed it an unworthy thing
that the heir of the princely house of Canossa
should handle the sculptor's chisel even in sport.
But now, flattered by the praise of Lorenzo, the
great patron of art, they looked smilingly on, and
Michael knew, as he rode home that night with his
austere relations, that his long-forbidden love of
art could now be indulged; the glory of his boy-
hood's dreams was to become the glory of his life.
Who can tell what forms of beauty and visions
-of fame flitted through his excited brain, wild with
the delight of Lorenzo's notice ?
Could he foresee the wonderful creations which
would make a world stand in silent admiration and
awe ?
Could he know that under the dome of St.
Peter's at Rome, the most magnificent Christian
temple on the earth, people of all nations, would
,come to do him homage ?
Let us follow his career. At nineteen he nade
a beautiful group in marble of the dead Christ in
his mother's lap. He carved the colossal statue of
the young David for the Ducal palace of Florence.
He designed, and in part completed, the grand
mausoleum for Julius II., the central figure of
which is Moses, at which he worked over forty
years; and the reclining figures of Day and Night,
Morning and Evening, are so much admired that
they are to be reproduced on a monument soon to
be erected to Michael Angelo at the scene of his
labors.
There are but few paintings of his on canvas, for
he is said to have had a contempt for easel pictures.
The Pope sent for him to come and decorate the
walls of his chapel at the Vatican. The architects


did not know how to construct a scaffolding which
would enable him to reach the ceiling, and he in-
vented one; and also a curious paper cap, which
would hold a candle in the front, and thus leave his
hands free to work at night. He covered the ceil-
ings with beautiful paintings of scenes taken from
the Old Testament. Thirty years afterward, he
painted on the end wall of the chapel the wonderful
picture of "The Last Judgment." Thousands of
people visit it every year, and gaze on it with rever-
ence and wonder and delight, for it is one of the
greatest pictures in the world.
St. Peter's was the closing work of his life. Be-
gun long before, many artists had worked upon it-
many architects had made plans for it; but it was
left to Michael Angelo to raise the dome, and to
leave such a perfect model for its completion, that
it now stands as the crowning glory of his fame.
And it was the work of an old man. At seventy,
other men generally lay down their life's labor, but
he commenced the painting of "The Last Judg-
ment; and the building of St. Peter's was in
progress at the time of his death, when he was
ninety.
With all his great powers, he was not unmindful
of little things. Nothing was too trivial for care.
The designing of a crucifix for a lady's wear; the
candelabra for the chapel; the costume of the
Papal Guard, still worn, show his minute attention
to detail. In all his works we see the same intelli-
gent thought that was manifested in the molding
of the faun's mouth, his boyhood's triumph.
Nobly was the prediction of Lorenzo de Medici
fulfilled, "that it was the work of one entering
upon the career of a master." In Michael Angelo,
the Great Master of Art, who at ninety stood
among the honored of the world, ripened all the
promise of the boy who, more than seventy years
before, modeled the snow-face, for an hour's pas-
time, in the gardens of the Medici Palace.


408


[MAY,






COLD GRAY STONES.


.=- -_
,,, -^__ -. _. _

THE NEW COMER,
(A recent arrival at the Central Park Zoological Gardens.)
Drawn from life by F. S. CHURCH.


COLD GRAY STONES.


BY MARGARET EYTINGE.


COLD gray stones," indeed I 'm just about
tired of this. Even a stone, if you hit it too hard,
will flash out at you.
In the story of the foolish seed that did n't be-
lieve the song of the canary, and that found a shel-
ter between myself and my brother, twice are we
called "cold gray stones." There are the words.
You can see them for yourself in the number of
.ST. NICHOLAS for last December.
Now, I 'd like to know what that poor little seed
would have done if we had n't given her a home ?
She would have been scorched by the sun, rotted
by the rain, or snapped up by the first bird that
came along.
VOL. II.-27.


It was n't our fault that she did n't turn into a
flower; we did the best we could for her.
And as for our not caring for anything, and
nothing caring for us, I say-and say it flatly-
that's not true !
The Moss family is, and always has been, very
much attached to us. It clings to us long after the
Summer months have departed, and every one
knows there can be no better love than that which
outlasts the Summer.
And the toads-the only animals that have jewels
in their heads they don't have to pay for-have
quite an affection for us.
They come and sit beneath our shade in the


-875.-


409






COLD GRAY STONES.


long, hot days, and sleep and dream the hours
away, or pass their time telling us wonderful tales
of the strange places they have hopped over.
And the beetles,-honest old fellows,-who don't
care for houses, but live in cosey underground cel-
lars, what would they do without stones to keep
the rain off?
Just turn us over some day, and you '11 see the
many-legged creatures running nimbly about; but
turn us back again quickly, for we don't like to
have the poor things frightened, though we "have
no more heart than a stone."
And now I am going to tell you about two "cold
gray stones," cousins of mine, who live in a great
tiresome city.
The wind brought the story to me, and so you
may be sure it is all true.
These cousins were part of the back-yard of a
wretched little house, and in the wretched little
house lived a pale, blue-eyed child.
The poor child had never seen anything growing
but the straggling grass that tried to force its way
up here and there in the dirty streets, and she
never caught but a glimpse of the blue sky, be-
cause all the rest was hidden by the tall, gloomy
houses around her.
"Oh, dear!" said one of my cousins to the
other, one day; "how I wish she could see a
flower! when along came the Wind in a great
hurry, as he almost always is.
Puff, puff said he; how hot you are here !
How do you do ? "
"Same as ever," said my cousin; "but what
are you carrying ?"
A few seeds," answered the Wind, I picked
up miles from here, and I 'm looking for some
good, rich earth to drop them on."


Dear Wind," said my cousins, "do drop some
here."
Here said the Wind, and he laughed until
the wretched little house shook. "What good
would they do here? I see plenty of dirt-ha!
ha ho ho !-but no earth-ho I ho ha ha !"
"There is a crevice between us," said my cousin,
"where there is a little earth (do stop laughing for
a moment, and look, dear Wind), and we think a
flower might grow there. Please give us one seed,
and we will hide it from the birds, and protect it
from careless footsteps, and watch it carefully until
it grows to gladden the heart of the pale, blue-eyed
child."
"All right," said the Wind, and he blew a seed
in the crack between the "two cold gray stones,"
and then fled, laughing, around the corner.
And the seed took root, and sent up two bright
green leaves to tell the stones that there were more
on the way; and the blue-eyed child, coming into
the back-yard to look at the patch of sky, one
morning, spied them and clapped her little hands
with gladness.
And from that day, as the plant grew and grew,
she became happier and happier; and when a
fragrant purple and white flower opened to the sun,
her joy knew no bounds.
And with each succeeding blossom came new
joy, and so the child was happy all Summer long.
And my cousins looked on and were well con-
tent.
My sermon is finished. I suppose you know
the greatest writer that ever lived said we could
preach ?
Yes, sir. He said there were sermons in us.
You have got to acknowledge that, if you do call
us "cold gray stones."


[MAY,


410







PLEASANT S P0K EN. 4"


PLEASANT-SPOKEN.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "RUTLEDGE."


MY DAVIS was a little girl not much
More than six years old, gentle
and kind, and just the sort of child
that I should have liked for my
very own.
S She had always lived in the
city; but in the Spring, a year or
two ago, her father bought a home
for them in the country, and there
they all went to live. The all
were her papa and mamma, her
older brother Robbie, herself, and
two very good servants (some-
times a little cross about the
kitchen floor, when it was just scrubbed, but other-
wise very kind).
Amy was delighted to live in the country. She
never tired of playing in the garden and the barn,
and of finding nice new shady little places all
about the yard, under Lilac-bushes or syringa-
bushes, to which she could crawl on her hands and
knees; and of finding little beds of daffodils and
periwinkle in the grass, and sometimes a star-of-
Bethlehem. For everything was very old-fashioned,
and the new home was n't a "country seat," and
there was n't any-lawn nor any drive, nor any gate-
house.
One day in the latter part of April, Amy came in
from the yard, with an apronful of corn-cobs. I
don't know what she meant to do with them, but
she thought them very nice, and she was going
through the kitchen with them on her way to her
own room, when she saw some one sitting in the
dining-room by the door. The two servants were
working in the kitchen, and taking no notice of this
old woman, who was sitting with her bonnet on,
and a walking-stick beside her. Amy thought she
looked like the old woman in fairy stories (only she
was a black woman), and she wanted to go back
and ask the servants about her; but she was afraid
the old woman had seen her, and would n't like it.
The old woman had, and she put out her hand and
said:
Wont you come and speak to me, little miss?"
She was very tall and thin, and very queer-look-
ing; she was so very straight and stiff, and she
had such long and bony hands. Her bonnet came
very far over her face, like the old women's bonnets
in picture-books. Amy would have liked to go
away. But the old woman put out her hand again,
and said:


Wont you come and speak to me, little miss ?"
So Amy very shyly went up to her, and laid her
little white hand in hers. The old woman patted
it very gently with her other hand, and then let
it go.
I am old Sarah," she said, that used to live
with your grandmother, when your mamma was a
little girl. Did n't she ever tell you about old
Sarah ?"
Amy could not remember that she had, but she
did not like to say so, for fear old Sarah might feel
badly; so she hung down her head, and said may
be mamma had, but she could not remember.
Ah, well old Sarah said, and gave a sigh,
"it's a great while ago. I should n't wonder if
she'd forgotten all about me. But I '11 wait and
see her; I suppose she '11 soon be in."
The sigh troubled Amy a good deal; she hoped
her mamma had n't forgotten all about the poor
old colored woman. She slipped away and went
into the kitchen, and asked the servants, in a
whisper, if they knew when her mamma was com-
ing back.
I'm expecting she '11 be in any minute," said
the cook.
So Amy went back to the dining-room, and
said:
Mamma will be in very soon, and I think she '11
be very glad to see you."
Sarah said: "Thank you. I think you are a
nice little girl."
Then Amy blushed a little, but felt pleased, and,
gathering up her apron with the cobs a little tighter,
went sideways out of the door, not knowing what
she ought to say, or whether she ought not to stay
a little longer. But when she got upstairs she felt
quite easy, and, in fact, soon forgot about the
visitor. She cleared a corner of her room, and
began to build in it a house of cobs, and that kept
her happy and busy for some time. She put her
dolls in it, and some of her doll-house furniture.
After playing for some time, she thought the house
would be nicer if it had a door. So she started
down-stairs, putting her hat and sack on as she
went, to hunt in the barn for a block, left by the
carpenters, that would answer for that purpose.
On her way she remembered old Sarah, and, won-
dering whether mamma were yet come in, she went
softly to the dining-room door. No, mamma had
not come in. There sat the old woman, looking
rather weary; and in the kitchen beyond worked


PLEASANT-SPOK(EN.


411






PLEASANT-SPOKEN.


the servants, chatting together and not taking any
notice of her.
I wish they 'd talk to her," thought Amy, and
then she would n't feel so lonesome."
Then she thought, "May be I ought to talk to
her." And then she wondered what she could talk
about. May be she'd like to look at my best
doll," she thought, at last.
Who could help liking to look at that! So Amy
ran upstairs again, and went into her mother's
room, and climbed up to the big drawer in the old-
fashioned bureau, where the best doll was kept,
and took her out, and the trunk of clothes that be-
longed to her. Then she went down softly into
the dining-room. Sarah looked up when she
went in.
Would you like to see my best doll?" said
Amy, shyly going up to her.
"That I should," said old Sarah, looking
pleased.
Amy brought a chair, to put the trunk on, and
she stood at Sarah's side herself, and held the doll
so that Sarah could see.
This is her traveling-dress," said Amy.
Her traveling-dress !" said Sarah, holding up
her hands. Do dolls have traveling-dresses ?"
"O yes," said Amy, "and morning-dresses, and
party-dresses. And here are her combs and
brushes. And here is her muff. And do you want
to see her shoes and stockings ? And she has got
a camels'-hair shawl;- yes, real camels' hair. And
a pocket-handkerchief with thread lace on it."
0 dear, dear said Sarah, who did not know
much about such things.
She came all the way from Paris," went on
Amy, finding plenty to say now. My Aunt Lisa
brought her to me when she came home last year."
Your Aunty Lisa! 0, what a pretty little girl
she used to be. She 's a big lady now, I suppose,
and wont remember Sarah."
Then Amy told her all about her Aunty Lisa,
and all about her doll; and, by and by, her
mamma came in, and was very glad to see old
Sarah, and remembered her very well, and made
her stay and get her dinner.
That afternoon, when the old woman was going
out of the kitchen door, having said good-bye to
Amy's mamma and Amy in the parlor, she said to
the servants that little Amy was a very pleasant-
spoken" little girl, and she wished there were more
children like her.
Yes," said the cook, she 's one of the pleas-
antest-spoken little girls I ever knew, and very nice
to get along with; makes as little trouble in the
house as a child could."
Now let me tell you what came of it; not that
we must always expect anything to come of being


good and kind. We shall generally feel happier
for being so, and other people will love us; and,
best of all, the blessed Lord will be satisfied with
us. And surely that is enough to come of doing
what is right. But, in this case, Amy had. a pleas-
ure beside.
One day late in May, old Sarah stopped at the
gate, and said to Amy, who was playing with
Robby in the yard:
"I want you to come down to my place to-
morrow morning. I 've got a present for you."
Amy looked pleased, and said: "May Robby
come, too ?"
Yes," said Sarah," if he wants to. But the
present is for you."
Amy laughed with pleasure. She liked presents
very much. Old Sarah leaned over the gate and
talked a few minutes, and then nodded good-bye
and went away, hobbling strangely as she walked,
for she was troubled with "poor feet," as she had
told Amy. Before she was ten steps away, Robby
was hobbling along the path like her, and telling
Amy, in a funny voice, he had a present for her
down at his place, and she must come and get it.
Don't, Robby," said Amy, growing very red,
too much frightened t9 laugh; "don't, she will
hear you, if you don't take care."
It was dreadful to Amy's kind little heart to
think of making any one ashamed and hurt.
The next morning, after breakfast, they were
both ready to start, Robby as much interested as
Amy, though he pretended to laugh at the present.
Amy looked very nice, in her clean calico dress
and white apron, and white sun-bonnet. Robby
had on a sailor-suit, and his hat on the back of his
head. He held Amy's hand, because it was quite
a long walk, and his mother had told him to take
care of Amy. As they went along, they amused
themselves in guessing what the present would be.
I think it will be a rose-bush," said Amy. A
rose-bush and some roses on it."
I think it will be a jar of sweetmeats," said
Robby.
Mamma thinks it will be a bunch of flowers,"
said Amy.
I don't believe it will be worth going for," said
Robby, before they got there, feeling tired.
"Well, I don't know," returned Amy, a little
discouraged. I shall like anything if it's only a
little nice."
A great bunch of lilacs."
0, it's too late for lilacs."
Or some sour plums made into a jam."
"0, don't,,Robby," said Amy, ready to cry.
"Or a big geranium that smells like fish, in a
red pot, and no flowers on it, like the one the cook
has in the kitchen."


412


IMAY,







PLEASANT-SPOKEN


Amy took her hand away from him, and walked
on by herself. She thought he was very unkind.
SHe might see she was getting a little uneasy, and
was feeling disappointed in advance. But he did
not see, and went on teasing all the way down the
road.
At last they got there. Old Sarah was standing
in the door of her little house, talking to a man
driving a load of wood. Robby whispered that it
was kind o' queer to see an old woman so straight
and tall, and with short hair, too, just like a girl's.
She nodded to the children, and stood aside, and
told them to go in and wait a minute for her. The
children crept in, feeling a little shy, even Robby.
They had never been in just such a room before.
It was very clean, but so low and dark, and so
different from other people's rooms. There were a
bed and a stove and two chairs, and shelves with
all sorts of odd things on them, and beams over-
head, upon which hung strings of onions and red
peppers and a ham, and skeins of yarn. The chil-
dren looked around, at first with silent curiosity.
After awhile, as Sarah continued talking with her
visitor, and did not come in, Robby grew bold, and
crept around softly and examined things, and made
faces, and finally began to talk.
That's the present, you may be sure that's
the present," he whispered, pointing to a horse-
shoe hanging up over the door. You can put it
in your baby-house; or sell it to the blacksmith
down beyond the bridge. Or-no. I've changed
my mind. Here it is now and no mistake. Now
look at it, Amy; see if you're not much obliged."
He took down from the shelf a little old-fashioned
mug, full of white and purple beans. On the mug
were the words, For a good child."
Amy was very much afraid it was the present,
and she felt like crying. There were two or three
bushels of such beans in the barn at home, and she
did not think the mug was pretty in the least.
S Still, if Robby would only be quiet, she would not
mind. It was no use saying "don't" to him any
more. He was full of mischief, and seemed to
think he was in no danger of being surprised by
Sarah. He went from one part of the room to
another, taking down things and examining them,
and laughing out aloud, and no longer whispering.
Amy sat on a chair by the door, the picture of dis-
comfort, with her eyes full of tears and her cheeks
burning red.
Sarah was having a sort of quarrel with the man,
who was going to charge her too much for the
wood, and so she did not pay any attention to what
was going on inside.
At last, the naughty Robby made up his mind
he would see what was in a funny little old closet
in the corner.


"It's in that," he said; "I know it is. Just
wait."
And he got down on his knees before the door,
and shook the latch till it came open. It was a
very deep closet, and very queer. Robby saw
something at the further end of it that looked like
an old broken clock-and old clock-wheels were
most interesting to him. He crept in a little
further; half his body was inside. He did not
hear Amy's warning; the man went away abruptly,
and old Sarah came suddenly into the room.
I 'm ready now," she said, and then stopped
and looked around for Robby.
There was the rear of the sailor-suit and a pair
of stout boy-legs in the door of her under-closet.
No, it is n't in there," she said, sternly; and
Robby, in great fright and hurry, drew himself out
at the sound of her voice.
He got up, looking very red and awkward, and
brushing the dust off his clothes.
Sarah was quite a grand old woman in her way,
and she looked angry now.
Is that city manners, young gentleman ? she
said, looking down at him.
But that was all she said. I think if he had been
a little colored boy, she would have quietly shut
him up in the closet and left him there for a few
hours to think the matter over. She saw Amy was
troubled, and had not been sharing in this im-
politeness.
"Come," she said; we will go for the pres-
ent."
Amy got down very gladly from her chair, and
followed Sarah out of the back door of the old
house. Robby came after them at a little distance.
Sarah led the way down the path toward the barn.
The barn was smaller and older than the house. A
few chickens were straying around, and a little
yellow dog was stretching his legs in the sun.
Wait a minute," said Sarah, going into the
barn and shutting the door after her.
. The children waited under an apple-tree that
stood before the barn. They looked in silent won-
der at each other. Robby's curiosity had overcome
his mortification. What could it be that she had
kept shut up in the barn ? Amy's heart beat quick.
It was not the horrid mug of beans, nor the horse-
shoe, nor the geranium like the cook's. Presently
the dark old barn-door moved a little, then was
pushed further open, and out bounded-oh, how
can I tell you !-a beautiful white lamb, with a long
blue ribbon round its neck, the end of which Sarah
held, coming after.
Amy gave one little cry, and, springing forward,
knelt down on the grass and threw her arms around
its neck. She hugged it and laid her cheek against
its soft white wool, and gave little screams of pleas-


1875.]







PLEASANT-SPOKEN.


ure as it moved and struggled in her arms. This
was the one, one thing she had thought about and
longed for ever since she could remember. Paris
dolls and those things, oh what were they to it?
Robby got down on the grass too, and eagerly
examined the new pet, asking all sorts of questions.
Sarah looked on, pleased at the sight of their great
pleasure. Amy's face was excited and happy, and


Among the many questions that Robby asked,
the one, Where did you get it, Sarah? was the
oftenest repeated.
"Well, I '11 tell you," said the old woman, in a
happy voice. "One day, about a month ago,
I was standing by the gate, and I saw the butcher's
cart pass with a load of lambs and sheep, with their
feet tied, poor things! and their heads hanging


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S-- -
.._.._. ;- -:. -;.- M. S,.


AMY'S PRESENT.


her little hands trembled with eagerness. She
almost forgot old Sarah; she could only think of
the lamb.
"Do look at its little feet, Robby," she cried;
" see how it lifts them up. And its eyes are so
funny and so nice! And how warm it is! O, and
how its heart beats-feel of it 0, don't be fright-
ened, lammie; we will be good to you." And then
she laughed and kissed it, and laid her head down
on it, as if she were too happy to say any more.


down. There 's a bad place in the road just
beyond my house, as you go down the hill. The
butcher's boy was driving pretty fast, and the cart
gave a jolt, and out fell one of the lambs and rolled
down the side of the road. "I saw what it was, and
called out to the boy; but he did n't hear, and
went dashing on as fast as he could go.- Then I
went to the lamb and picked it up. Its leg was
broken, and I thought it was too much hurt ever
to get well. I took all the care of it I could, and


414


[MAY,








i8rs.1 THE GRASSHOPPER. 415


set its leg and nursed it; but for a good many
days I thought it was going to die. When it
seemed a little better, I went to the butcher and
told him about it, and offered to pay him, for I had
got fond of the poor little thing by that time. But
he said No, it would most likely die; and if it
did n't, it would be because I had taken such good
care of it, and, if there was any paying, it must be
paid for by that careless boy of his. So the lamb
got well; but before it got well, I had made up my
mind what I would do with it, if it did. I did n't
forget a little girl that came and showed me her
doll, because there was n't anybody talking to me,
and that always has a pleasant word for every-
body."
While Sarah was telling this story, Amy had
crept up to her, and, looking up into her face, was
drinking in every word, holding the lamb's blue
ribbon in her hand. But, at the last words, her
face grew red and her eyes fell; it did n't seem to
her quite right that she should have the lamb for
that. If it had been for studying her lesson, or for
learning to darn stockings !
"Now we must go home," said Robby, who


did n't like the moral, and who was very anxious to
get the lamb out into the road, to see if it would
run.
Then Sarah told Amy what to give it to eat, and
what to drink, and exactly how to take care of it;
and then she opened the gate for them. Amy,
eager to get home and show mamma her treasure,
had started forward two or three steps, when she
remembered she had hardly said thank you to
Sarah; and, turning back, she said, in a shy voice:
I am very much obliged to you for the lamb.
I think it is very nice. There is n't anything I'd
have liked so well as it."
And to say good-bye, she timidly put out her
hand. Old Sarah leaned down over the gate, and
said:
"You don't want to kiss me for it, though, I
suppose,-now do you?"
Amy put both her arms around the old woman's
neck, and kissed her more than once. Old Sarah
said, God bless you and stood leaning on the
gate and watching Amy as she ran down the road
with her lamb, holding the blue ribbon in her
hand.


THE GRASSHOPPER.

BY MARIE A. BROWN.


A GRASSHOPPER am I,
For the winter laid by,
No more hopping!
But I never would die,
Here I come, high and dry,
Hopping, hopping !

When the farmer sows rye,
- You will see me quite spry,
Hopping, hopping!
I cannot learn to fly,
And so I never try,
But keep hopping!


My throat is very dry,
A big dew-drop I spy,
Hopping, hopping
For dinner do I sigh,
After bugs I quickly hie,
Hopping, hopping !

For work I never cry,
Enough to do have I,
Hopping, hopping !
And if you'd care defy,
Just do the same as I,
Go to hopping!


r87S.1


THE GRASSHOPPER.


415


I.






ABOUT HERALDRY.


ABOUT HERALDRY.

BY ANNIE MOORE.


WHEN I was a little girl I used to see in my
grandmother's house some old pictures, which, I
was told, were coats-of-arms. One of them I should
have described as three little
black dogs, with gold col-
lars, scampering over a sil-
-ver ground. I have since
a learned that the right way
to describe it is: Argent,
three greyhounds courant,
in pale, sable, collared or,
name, Moore."
Heraldry teaches every-
MOORE. thing that belongs to arm-
orial bearings, and how to blazon, or explain,
them in proper terms. Blazon is from the German
word blasen, to blow a horn.
When a knight wished to enter the lists at a
tournament, it was the duty of one of the attendant


POINTS OF THE SHIELD.
A.-Middle chief. B.-Dexter chief. C.-Sinister chief. D.-Honor
point. E.-Fess point. F.-Nombrill point. G.-Base point.
H.-Dexter base. I.-Sinister base.
heralds to blow a horn, and then recount the brave
deeds of the knight and describe his arms.
We call all the weapons used in battle arms, but
in heraldry the word is applied to the crest, helmet,
and shield.
The shield, or escutcheon, was the warrior's prin-




9 $1
\* *





OR. ARGENT.
cipal defense in combat. It was of various forms-
round, square, triangular, heart-shaped, or oval.


In the early times of ignorance and barbarity,
the men most esteemed were those who were
bravest in battle, and in order that these men and
their actions should be known, each hero adopted,
or had bestowed upon him, some emblem; often a
wild beast painted or embroidered on his shield or
helmet. As an old writer says:
They adorned their shields with the figures of











GULES. AZURE.

monsters and dreadful beasts, intending by the
courage and strength of those creatures to repre-
sent the like in themselves."
The surface of the shield is called the field, be-
cause it contained honorable marks, gained upon
the battle-field; as the arms of the family of Lloyd:
"Or, four pallets gules." That is, a golden field,
with four marks of red upon it.
An ancestor of this family, after fighting valiantly,
chanced to draw his hand, which was covered with











SABLE. VERT.
blood, across his sword, leaving the marks of his
four fingers upon it. His king seeing it, ordered
him to bear the representation of the four marks
upon his shield in memory of his valor.
The devices representing the brave acts achieved
by the bearer are called armorial bearings, or
achievements.
Everything drawn upon a shield is called a
charge.
Above is a drawing of the points of the shield."
The shield is supposed to be carried by a warrior


416


[MAY,







ABOUT HERALDRY.


on the left arm. So the right, or dexter side, is at
his right hand.
If a device be placed in the Middle Chief, it refers
to the head of the bearer, and implies that his
strength lies in his wisdom; if in the Dexter, or
Sinister Chief, it represents a "badge of honor"
appended to his right or left shoulder, the Dexter
being more honorable than the Sinister.
A device placed in the Honor Point is most
valued, as referring to the heart of the bearer.
Next to this is the Fess Point, which refers to a


ERMINE.


and the Saltier. The Sub-Ordinaries are diminu-
tives of these; as, the Pallet, the Bendlet.


THE PILE.


Many of the Ordinaries are representations of the
strengthening of the shield; as, clamps and braces.
The Chief is the upper third of the shield,
divided by a horizontal line.
The Pale is a stripe from top to bottom, like one
of the pales or palisades used for fortifications and
for the enclosing of a camp. In the old times


PURPURE. VAIR.

girdle or sash, in honor of some achievement in
arms.
In representing shields of arms, metals, colors,
and furs are used. The metals are gold, called or,
and silver, argent. Or is represented by small
dots, and argent by white. The colors are-red,
gules; blue, azure; black, sable; green, vert; and
purple, purpure. Gules is represented by perpen-
dicular lines; azure, by horizontal, &c.
Of the furs, which represented the skins of beasts,











THE CHIEF. THE PALE.

with which the shields were covered in early times,
there were originally but two-ermine and vair.
Ermine is a white fur with black spots, and vair,
supposed to be from the word varied, is made up
of many skins of the gray and white squirrel put
together in small shield-shaped pieces.
Then there are the Honorable Ordinaries and
the Lesser, or Sub-Ordinaries. The Honorable
Ordinaries are called so because often bestowed
upon a soldier on the battle-field as a reward or
remembrancer of his valor. There are nine of
them-the Chief, the Pale, the Bend, the Bend
Sinister, the Fess, the Chevron, the Pile, the Cross,


THE FESS. THE CHEVRON.

every soldier was obliged to carry one, and to fix it
according to the lines drawn for the security of the
camp.
The Bend is a band crossing diagonally from
Dexter Chief to Sinister base, in imitation of the
scarf.
The Bend Sinister crosses from Sinister Chief to
Dexter base.
The Fess is a horizontal bar across the middle of
the field, representing a belt or girdle.
The Chevron is composed of two stripes coming











THE BEND. THE BEND SINISTER.

from the center of the shield, like the rafters of a.
roof.
The Pile is a triangular figure, like a wedge.







ABOUT HERALDRY,


The Cross is the most esteemed of all the Ordi-
naries, and is composed of the Pale and the Fess
crossing each other, as the Cross of St. George.


CROSS OF ST. GEROGE.


CROSS OF ST. ANDREW.


The Saltier, or Cross of St. Andrew, is a com-
bination of the Bend and Bend Sinister. The Sal-
tier is said to have been used by soldiers in scaling
walls, or by horsemen in place of stirrups.
The shield may also be divided by partition lines,
either straight, curved, or angular, as party per
Pale, party per Fess. Party means parted. Party
per Pale is when the field is divided by a perpen-
dicular line from top to bottom, and party per Fess,
by a horizontal line. There are many other parti-
tion lines, and they are said to represent fractures


PARTY PER PALE.


PARTY PER FESS.


in the shield, proving that the bearer had been in
the hottest of the fight.
Coat-armors that consist of partition lines alone
are generally ancient.

What means this plainness ?
Th' ancients plain did go;
Such ancient plainness, ancient
Race doth show."

Coats-of-arms were called coats, because they
were embroidered on the surcoat worn over the
coat-of-mail; and arms, because originally borne
by armed men in war or tournament.
Sovereigns wore them on golden seals, and on
the caparisons of their horses. A woman wore her
father's coat-of-arms embroidered upon her kirtle,
or skirt, and that of her husband upon her mantle.
They were granted by sovereigns as marks of honor
for loyal acts.
King Robert the Bruce gave the house of Win-
toun a falling crown supported by a sword, to show


that they had upheld the Crown when it was in a
distressed state.
He who bore coat-armor was required to conduct
himself like an honorable gentleman. The arms
of traitors were reversed.
Coats-of-arms were sometimes assumed by the
knights themselves, and often represented some
personal peculiarity, or had some allusion to the
name of the bearer.
The Castletons bore three castles; the Salmons,
three salmons; the Lamberts, three lambs.
These last were called armes farlantes, or allu-
sive arms.
The heart surmounted by a crown, in the arms of
the Douglases, was in memory of Sir James Doug-











DOUGLAS ARMS. LION RAMPANT.

las, who made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land to
deposit the heart of his king, Robert Bruce, in
holy ground.

The bloody heart was in the field,
And in the Chief three mullets stood,
The cognizance of Douglas blood."

Stars of five points are called mullets, and repre-
sent the rowels of spurs.
Sir Simon Locard, who went with Sir James
Douglas, and carried one of the keys of the silver
casket which contained the heart, changed his
name to Lockheart, and a human heart in the bow
of a padlock was added to his arms.
The arms of the Earls of Orkney were ships, for
the reason that they were obliged to furnish a cer-
tain number of ships for the king's use.











FLEUR-DE-LIS. ROSE OF HERALDRY.

Coats-of-arms were used among the Normans in
battle to distinguish one from another, as their
faces were hidden by their helmets, that no Nor-


418


[MAY,








ABOUT HERALDRY. 419


man might perish by the hand of another." They
were useful, too, in assisting in the recognition of
the dead on the battle-field, as in their armor they
looked much alike.
The fleur-de-lis is the lily of heraldry. The lion,
the king of beasts, was a favorite symbol. It was
used by all who were in any way related to the
king, and kings bestowed it upon their chosen fol-
lowers.
Among birds, the eagle was most esteemed, and
of fishes, the dolphin.
In the time of the Crusades, when so many soldiers
of different nations were assembled together, more
emblems were needed. Every soldier who went to
the Holy War wore the badge of the cross upon the
right shoulder. And they added to their emblems
the crescent, the scallop, the turban, and other
devices.
There were many kinds of crosses. The Cross
of St. George, the Cross of St. Andrew, the Cross
of Malta, the Cross-croslet, and many others.
The Cross-croslet was often fitched, or pointed,
at the lower part. It was carried by pilgrims on










EAGLE. DOLPHIN.

their journeys, and could be fixed in the ground so
that they might perform their devotions by the
wayside.
As coats-of-arms became more numerous, differ-
ent knights took the same devices, and the different
coats-of-arms came to be so much alike that it made
confusion. Then strict laws were made, regulating
the attitudes of the animals and the number and
position of the charges. For example, one knight
might display upon his shield a lion rampant, that
is, standing up ready for combat-the most honor-
able position for the lion. On another there might
be a lion guardant, that is, with the face turned
frontwise looking round to observe the enemy; or
regardant, having the head turned backward, as if
urging on his followers; or passant, walking cau-
tiously, as though searching for the enemy.
When a knight died, a black frame covered with
canvas, with his arms represented upon it, was
placed, with one of its corners uppermost, on the
front of his house, and was afterward set up in the
church or near to the grave. This was called a
hatchment.


In blazoning a coat-of-arms, the field is to be de-
scribed first; then the divisions, if any, and the
ordinaries, and last, the charges; as, azure, a lion
rampant and Chief or, by the name of Dix.
That is, a field of blue, with a golden lion ram-
pant and a Chief of gold.
Besides the shield and the symbols and devices
placed upon it, there are other objects belonging


SCALLOP. CRESCENT.

to armorial bearing. These are the external orna-
ments,-the Helmet, the Wreath, the Crest, the
Mantling, the Motto, and the Supporters.
The Helmet is placed just above the shield, and
was made of leather or of thin metal, often repre-
senting the head of a wild beast or bird.
The Wreath is of twisted silk of two colors, and
was worn by ancient knights as a head-dress at
tournaments, in imitation of the turbans of the
Saracens.
The Crest, the highest part, is generally some
part of the coat-armor of the bearer, or assumed in
memory of some event in the family history.
Once when an English knight overthrew two
foreign knights at a tournament, his king was so
pleased that he gave him a ring, telling him to add
it to his Crest, which is now a lion rampant, hold-
ing in his dexter paw a ring.
The Mantling represents the piece of cloth or
leather worn over the helmet to protect it from wet,
and it was often hacked in pieces by the sword of


CROSS OF MALTA.


CROSS CROSLET PITCHEDD).


the enemy. The more it was cut and mutilated,
the more honorable it was.
The Motto was inscribed upon a ribbon or scroll,
and is supposed to have originated in the ancient
war-cries and the watchwords employed in camps
and garrisons.


ABOUT HERALDRY.


419







THE SKIPPING-ROPE.


The motto of the family of Dix is Quod dixi,
dixi"-" What I have said, I have said."
When the knights were about to enter the lists
at a tournament, their banners or shields were held
by their pages, disguised in the forms of animals,
standing on their hind legs and supporting the
shield with their paws. This is supposed to be the
origin of Supporters. For example, we have the
lion and the unicorn in the English arms.
Some American boys and girls may think that


the study of heraldry can be of no advantage to the
people of a republic. But apart from the fact that
we ought to know something about a subject which
has been, and still is, considered of so great im-
portance in other countries, and which is continu-
ally referred to in English literature, we should be
able to understand the arms of our several States,
as well as many other heraldic symbols which are
used for ornamental and other purposes even in
our own country.


THE SKIPPING-ROPE.

BY LAURA LEDYARD.


Now all ye tearful children, come and listen while I tell
About the little fairy folk, and what to them befell;
And how three little fairies sat them down, one Summer day,
And cried among the grasses till the others flew away.

They flew away, bewildered, for it gave them such a fright
To see the fairies crying with the jolly sun in sight;
And so they left them all alone, and there they sat, and cried
Six little streams of fairy tears, that trickled side by side.

And looking down, the laughing sun among the drops did pass,
And he laid a little rainbow beside them on the grass.
Then quickly rose the fairies and clapped their gleeful hands-
" We've found the brightest skipping-rope in all the fairy lands."

And there they jumped their tears away, and jumped their dimples in;
And jumped until their laughter came-a tinkling, fairy din.
What! you say you don't believe it, you saucy little elf?
Then run and get your skipping-rope, and try it for yourself!







THE CRADLE OF NOSS.


ON the opposite page is a picture of the "'Cradle
of Noss," about which Jack-in-the Pulpit" talked
to the children last month. The birds do not seem
very friendly to the man in the Cradle; and, indeed,
they have no reason to like him, for he has been
robbing them of their eggs. As one might im-


agine from the multitude of birds, there are so
many eggs on these great tall rocks that some of
them can be spared very well; but for all that, the
scene looks like one that might rouse the spirit of
true Bird-defenders, if there are any such in the
Shetland Islands, where this Cradle is used.


420






THE CRADLE OF NOSS.


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THE CRADLE OF NOSS.


x87-.]


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ND






422


AUNT DEBBY had gone to the sewing-circle, else
Mrs. Jarley's wax-works would not have been pro-
gressing so finely, you may be sure. Aunt Debby,
in the warm summer afternoons, always took a nap
in the lower bedroom. But on this particular golden
afternoon nobody could have got a wink of sleep in
any of the bedrooms, upstairs or down-stairs, so
very great was the uproar of Mrs. Jarley and her
wax figures.
Aunt Debby, quilting vigorously at the town-hall
on a missionary quilt, little dreamed of the small
Goths and Vandals, her grand-nieces and nephews,
ransacking in her precious attic and drag-
ging its treasures down into the best bed-
room, for their own delight and the de-
light of their hastily gathered little friends
and neighbors.
The best bedroom, barred and bolted,
had been in a state of siege for an hour or
two. Plum Packard and her little brother
Pell took turns hammering at the door
with knuckle and toe, and in hoarse roars
of Lem me in lem me in !"
But Mrs. Jarley and the riotous 'wax
figures, secure in the strength of the old
oaken door and clumsy bolt, only derided
the besiegers, and finally bade them go
rock themselves to sleep, like good babies,
till the 'formances should begin !
"Babies !" howled Plum, throwing her-
self flat on the floor, in very rage and
weariness, her disheveled hair rippling and
rolling around her.
Babith !" echoed Pell, who was seldom
original.
Then he went on dismally grinding his
tearless eyes with his very grimy knuckles.
I 'm as big as Jenny Pickman !" roared Plum,
in tones meant to pierce a particular car on the
other side of the best bedroom door. She's going
to be a wax bigger."
"How do you know she is?" piped a voice from
the bedroom.
"'Cause our Pell peeked under the door and saw
her dressed up like an old woman with a spinning-
wheel. 0 wont she catch it when "
"Yeth I peeked and I thaw screamed little
Pell, his great black eyes twinkling with excite-
ment, and every little round curl on his head
shaking nervously. "Wont the catth it!"
At this, a loud laugh and a laugh all together


came from the inconsequent wax figures, and then
the din of preparation went on more noisily than
ever.
Plum was now quite beside herself with anger at
being so persistently barred out, forgetting that she
had been turned out of the bedroom because of
"the mischiefs and bothers" she had made. She
began to kick and pommel the floor, crying out
that it was a "mean shame "
Yeth, a mean thame agreed Pell, his mouth
in a tremulous pucker and a great tear splashing
over his mottled little nose.


"LIKE AN OLD WOMAN WITH A SPINNING-WHEEL."

He stooped compassionately to disentangle Plum's
buttons from her long floating hair.
I don't believe mamma would thay you 're thet-
ting me a good thample. Would the, Plum ?"
He fell on his frayed hands and knees, and
peered into Plum's ruby face for an answer.
Peletiah Packard, I don't believe she would !"
replied Plum, in very subdued tones, brought to
her senses by the pleading eyes and the sweet
breath blown over her cheeks from Pell's rosy little
mouth. That she, Plum, should be leading dear
little Pell in the ways of bad temper, quite sobered
her. This is the very last time I 'm ever in this
world going to behave so."


[MAY,


THE NAUGHTY LITTLE GRAND-NIECES.



THE NAUGHTY LITTLE GRAND-NIECES.

BY ELSIE GORHAM.






THE NAUGHTY LITTLE GRAND-NIECES.


"The vewy lath time !" chimed in Pell, sweetly,
his trust in Plum as serene as if he had not heard
her make and break the same promise fifty times
before.
Let's go up to the garret," said Plum, sitting
up erect now, and smoothing her disordered dress.
"Come, Pell, and we'll have a good time all by
our own two selves. Who cares for their old wax-
works ? "
Pell, nothing loth, was dragged briskly toward
the attic stairs, and had just crowed out, in a
broken, breathless fashion:
"Who careth? Leth- "
Just then, Plum, whisking him round a corner,
hurled him, nose first, against the banisters.
Plum was now all tenderness and pity. Rushing
into the nearest chamber, she pulled a pretty frilled
sham from the bed and a pitcher of water from the
stand, and began to sop the bruised little feature,
looking ruefully now at the swollen nose and then
at the pitcher, the handle of which she had broken
in her haste.
Every other minute she stopped to hug Pell, and
assure him his nose was better now.
But every other minute Pell roared in reply,
"No, no, itth badder !"
Plum burst into tears at last, and flung down the
pillow-sham in despair.
"0 dear me, Pell Packard, what shall I do?
It's grown 'most as big as a turnip."
Oh, bigger! bigger sobbed Pell, measuring
his nose with his thumbs; "big as a cheeth !"
"You hush a minute, Pell, dear," called out
Plum, brightening. "I'll put on a paper plaster
to it, and then it wont grow another mite, 'cept the
other way-smaller."
Plum flew to upset the waste-basket, and, leaving
the contents scattered about on the closet floor, ran
breathlessly back with a jagged bit of brown paper,
which she stuck, with much assurance, on the little
upturned, imploring nose of half-doubting Pell.
"You thure, now, it wont make it grow big
father ? entreated Pell.
You goose, you know you feel it growing lit-
tler," asserted Plum, so positively that Pell, at
length half-convinced, whispered:
"I guetth I do, Plum."
Triumphant Plum, well pleased, cried out:
Come upstairs, and we '11 have fun now."
Snatching up Pell, and "boosting," dropping,
dragging him by turns, she bounced him down at
last rather suddenly in the middle of the sloping
attic.
0 my!" he exclaimed, with his eyes and mouth
so round with astonishment, you never would have
known him for Pell Packard.
If you had seen Aunt Debby's attic, all littered


with old dresses, and the trunk-tops all standing
open, and the bags and boxes tumbled round, you
would n't wonder Pell's eyes and mouth were in
such a pucker.
He knew just how orderly and nice it always was.
there, with the great trunks in a solemn row, all
winking at little boys with their millions of brass
eyes.
He knew, for he used to go up there rainy after-
noons with Plum, and play chariot of fire" in the
old copper warming-pan. All his small fingers.
and toes were not enough to count the number of
times they had quarreled in settling who should be
"'Lijah" and who should be "horses."
He knew, for after they had done playing "ark"
in the meal-chest in the corner, Plum and he taking
turns being Noah, and his little dog Frisk figuring
as pairs of all the animals in turns from the camel
to the bumble-bee, Pell was very careful to put the
meal-chest back straight against the wall, just as
the trunks and boxes all stood. 0, but Plum and
he never touched the trunks.
For this reason: One of their cousins had told.
them, in strict confidence, the tale of a parrot who.
had got shut up in one of the trunks once, a good
while ago, before hardly anybody was born. So
he had to die, and his feathers were, by and by, all
that was left of him. But if you put your ear down
to the keyhole, you could hear them saying, "Polly
wants a cracker," just exactly the same as if they
had a stomach to put things into.
The children ever after took good care to play a
long way off from the trunks.
0 my !" thought Pell, aghast, "who could 'a'
dartht to open thethe ? "
"Only just look here, Pell," cried Plum, pounc-
ing. in ecstasy on an old squirrel-skin cape.
The naughty little wax figures and prying Mrs.
Jarley, searching for costumes, had boldly tossed it
out of its nice box.
"I'll dress up in it, and I'll be a tiger-oh, how
splendid !-and I'll play I have claws !"
"No, no !" stoutly roared terrified Pell.
"A dear little pussy-cat, then," conceded Plum,
rolling herself up in the fur and running round on
all fours, mewing.
Pell, alarmed lest pussy should take him for a
mouse, or big rat perhaps, scrambled up on a soap-
box, and announced shrilly that he was a little boy.
"I ith nuffin-only Pell."
"Come right down, then, and tie on the dust-
brush to me. How can I be a cat without I have a
good long tail ?"
"I want to be thumfin !" sniffled Pell, without
stirring from his perch.
Be a canary-bird," suggested Plum, mewing
fearfully.


423






THE NAUGHTY LITTLE GRAND-NIECES.


Cath eat birdth !" quavered Pell.
"Play they did n't," coaxed the ready Plum.
"Play they loved each other ever so much, and
always went all about the world together in pairs
ever since they got mixed up coming out of the
ark."
0 yeth," agreed Pell, delighted. Canawiech
are made out of feverth. Where ith thum ? "
I do wish you ever could find anything for your-
self, and not be so plaguy and bothering, Pell," re-
plied Plum, pettishly casting her cat-skin.
Pell, accused of being plaguy and bothering, fell
to weeping noisily.
"Hush this minute, Pell Packard. If you don't,
I '11 make an owl of you instead of a canary-bird."
Shuddering, Pell hushed in a twinkling.
Plum's quick eye had espied some "jolly" hen's
feathers sticking out of the corner of an old bolster.
Yes, jolly was just what she thought them-only
thought; she did n't say it, for she was not allowed
to call things jolly, except such as were really jolly.
Her quick hands had seized the bottle of mucil-
age standing near on a brown old rafter.
"Now, Pell, darling, shut your eyes and your
mouth, while I make you into a bird."
But Pell kept a corner of one eye open, though
his mouth was screwed up very close indeed. Plum
laid on the mucilage thick and recklessly, and
pleased little Pell saw himself rapidly bristling with
feathers.
"You '11 want wings, you know," wheedled Plum,
who saw objections in Pell's now wide open eyes.
Without further parley, she decked little Pell's
shoulders with two dusty turkey-wings.
Fot am I," he inquired, dubiously,-" am I a
owl ?"
"No, the loveliest canary-bird."
Plum slipped into the cape again, and happy
little Pell, his doubts all dispelled, tied on the
dust-brush, to Plum's entire satisfaction. Pussy
agreed to tell stories of all the mice she had caught,
and birdie of all the worms he had gobbled, when
a call was heard from below that the wax-works
were going to begin, and spectators must be in
their seats .
Pell looked at his feathered sack.
We've just as much right to dress up as they,"
asserted Plum, with a defiant toss of the head, while
she gathered her cat-skin in her arms preparatory
to going down. "I'11 go in it mewing, and you,
Pell, go in whistling. They wont stop to push us
out if they want to, they will all be in such a hurry
to begin. You look beautiful, Pell," declared
Plum, by way of encouragement to Pell, who was
gazing askance at his feathers.
So down went the audience, and saw the best
bedroom door wide open at last, sheets curtaining


off most of the room, and Biddy, the cook, perched
up in a chair as close as she could get to the
sheets.
Sinses !" remarked Biddy, uneasily, as she saw
the funny little figures coming through the door.
" Sich quare little bastes entirely "
I ithn't Pell now; I'th a canary-bird," an-
nounced Pell, flopping his turkey-wings, and point-
ing to his feathery breast.
Further explanations were drowned in the roar
that came from behind the curtains,-for any num-
ber of little eyes had been peeping through the
holes which small fingers had torn in the sheets to
view the entrance of Plum and Pell.
Mrs. Jarley's shrill, small voice was heard trying
vainly to restore order. From the outcries, it
would seem as if she had fallen bodily on the wax
figures, and was pommeling them back to their
places.
Soon her head, bonneted in Aunt Debby's huge
old satin structure, was thrust out angrily from
between the sheets, and, shaking a tattered um-
brella at the offenders, she called out:
If you don't stop that mewing, and take off
those things, Plum Packard, I'll come right out
and "
SShe brandished the umbrella so fiercely that
Plum in a second was sitting up, primly expectant,
in the spectators' seat, with Pell beside her, try-
ing to hide his feathers and wings under her over-
skirt.
Biddy, meantime, had set up a long wail over
the doings of "thim impish little Packards," and,
with arms akimbo, was standing up and prophesy-
ing to Pell of a judgment to come when his mother
should return.
"Stop, wont you now, Biddy McClure," com-
menced small Mrs. Jarley, through the parted
sheets.
A bell rang, the curtains were drawn, and Mrs.
Jarley and her wax figures stood revealed.
Little Fanny Worthington, as "Mrs. Jarley," in
Aunt Debby's trailing skirt and sweeping Shetland
shawl, was almost buried under the feathers and
flowers and lace of the big bonnet.
Ladies and gentlemen," she began, curtsying
to Plum and Pell and Biddy, "I'm Mrs. Jarley,
and these are my beautiful wax statues," pointing
with her umbrella anywhere but at the giggling
little group behind her. "Once they were alive
and famous; now they're turned to wax and
famouser. When they are wound up they all begin
to do just as they used to. I'm going to wind
them pretty soon, and so you '11 see all about it.
This, ladies, is the Cardiff giant. He's a little
short in the arms, but his legs are lovely long, and
his head, you see, is beautiful and big. There


[MAY,






1875.] THE NAUGHTY LITTLE GRAND-NIECES.


were no naughty little boys left where he lived, for
he ate one every night for his supper, till they were
all gone, and so then he starved to death and
turned to wax."
Mrs. Jarley looked hard at Pell, as if to say it
was lucky for him the giant had n't lived in his
neighborhood; and the giant looked so hard at
Pell from under his great wig, that Pell quaked
under his feathers.
But then he need n't, for the giant was only
Susie Pickman standing on a high chair, wrapped
in a sheet which swept the floor, her face all flour,
and a big tow wig on her head.


Tip-top, thin, arltegithcr," was Biddy's opinion
of the fine paper ruff.
"'T is n't proper for you to talk, Biddy," quoth
Mrs. Jarley, tripping over her shawl ends.
And this is Robersing Cruser, mending his
stockings, because he's on a desert island where
there's nobody else that knows how to. And this
is the cross schoolmistress, that liked to have got
put into jail; and this one is the good little girl she
shook 'most to pieces. Now, I can't wait to tell
you about the rest; I 'm going to wind them all
up."
Just as Mrs. Jarley began this performance, a


.AUNT DERBY ARRIVES ON THE SCENE.
AUNT DEBBY ARRIVES ON THE SCENE.


'When he's wound up," went on Mrs. Jarley,
glibly, pointing at the giant with her umbrella,
" this giant, this Cardiff giant, he opens his mouth
to say more,' which means 'more boys,' because
he likes the taste of naughty ones. But he can't
say 'more,'because he's wax; he only opens his
mouth. Oh, now you need n't begin till you're
wound up. Do you hush !"
The giant thus reproved shut his mouth very
meekly.
And this is Bopeep,' who has lost her sheep.
When she's wound up, she keeps looking over her
shoulder to find 'em."
And this is Queen Elizabeth, who cut off Mary
Queen of Scotses head. She did other things be-
sides, when she was alive ; but that's all the things
she does now, when she's wound up. Isn't her
ruff lovely? I made it."
VOL, II.-28.


shrill voice was heard in the doorway, and the
Roman nose and eagle eyes of Aunt Debby
peered in.
Mrs. Jarley, in her fright, dropped the watch-
man's-rattle with which she was noisily winding up
the Cardiff giant. The little wax figures would
fain have flown out of the door if there had been
another than the one in which Aunt Debby was
standing.
"Pretty times, I should think Plum Packard,
where did you get this cape ?" laying ungentle
hands on quaking little Plum, who sat near.
"And this, and this, and this ?"
Aunt Debby's voice rose higher and higher, as
she brusquely disrobed Mrs. Jarley of bonnet and
shawl and skirt.
"We thought you would n't mind," ventured
the Cardiff giant, getting down out of the chair in






THE FEAST OF FLAGS.


such a hurry as grievously to tend the sheet which.
represented his marble proportions.
"U-ugh! one of my best Hollands," gasped
Aunt Debby, in a half-smothered shriek. "Don't
come near my nice alpaca, Susie Pickman, with
your floury face and wig "
The Cardiff giant retreated.
"You don't mind very much, though, do you,
auntie ?" wheedled Mrs. Jarley, pushing away the
golden tangles of hair from her two beseeching eyes.
Rigid Aunt Debby softened visibly under the
glances of this her beloved grand-niece, and she
said, much more mildly:
If you had only asked me, Fanny, before I
went out, I would have brought you all you wanted
for your play. But to go marauding round, the
minute my back was turned, upsetting the attic
and the house generally, is not what I expected of
you, Fanny, at any rate."


"I know we ought not to have been so thought-
less and naughty, Aunt Debby; but if we never
will do so again, wont you forgive us this time?"
pleaded Fanny.
Aunt Debby's glance just then fell on little
Pell.
"What have you been doing, Pell?" She twirls
him round for inspection. Oh, it's a mercy to
you I'm not your mother just now! Oh, it is 1"
Twirls him again. "I would put you through a
course of spankings you would remember."
"No, you would n't darester," retorted irreverent
Pell, whose blood was up at being thus publicly
shamed. "You'd better go up ga-wit and thee
what thumbody eltheth been doing up there."
Pell shrugged his turkey-wings as Aunt Debby
darted off at his suggestion, and the children, sad-
der if not wiser for this hour of mischief, brought
their wax-works to a sudden close.


THE FEAST OF FLAGS.

BY W. E. GRIFFIS.


IF you were in Japan during the first week in
May, you would see huge fishes made of paper fly-
ing in the air. Every Japanese family, in which
there are boys, plants a tall bamboo pole in the
ground. To the top of the pole is hung a large
paper representation of a carp. The fish is held
to the pole by a piece of cord fastened in its gills.
It is made hollow, so that the breeze will fill it out
full and oval like a real carp. There it swims in
the air from morning till night for a week or more.
To-day, while I am writing this in Yeddo, all over
the city you can see these carp, some of them
twenty feet long, tugging at their lines like fish
with baited hooks in their mouth. There must be
thousands of them.
What are they for? They are put up in honor
of the boys. If a boy-baby has been born in a
Japanese house during the year, the nobori, as the
paper fish is called, is sure to be hoisted. Even
if there are boys in the house several years old, the
nobori is usually raised.
How curious Why do the Japanese hoist the
nobori ? The reason is this : The carp, or koi, as
the Japanese call it, is a strong fish that lives in
rivers and can leap high out of the water. It can
jump over rocks; it can swim against a strong


current; it can snap up flies in the air; it can leap
up high enough to mount over waterfalls. So you
see it can overcome most of the difficulties that lie
in a carp's way.
Now the Japanese father thinks this is what a
boy ought to be able to do-to mount over all
difficulties, and to face every danger. Hence, the
carp is the symbol of a boy's youth and manhood.
Every proud father who has a boy-baby hoists the
nobori. When the boy-baby is old enough, he
raises it himself.
You see much more than these big paper fishes
at the Feast of Flags in May. If you look in the
shops of Yeddo or Fukui during the first week in
May, you will see ever so many nice toys such as
Japanese boys play with. There are hundreds of
big paper fishes, and thousands of flags. Japanese
flags are long and narrow, and not like ours. You
will not see any dolls such as the girls play with.
Instead of these are thousands of splendidly dressed
images of Japanese generals, captains and heroes,
all in armor, with spears in their hands and swords
in their belts, and bows and arrows at their backs.
They have helmets on their heads, and sandals on
their feet. Some are on foot, others are on horse-
back. Then there are all kinds of toy animals,


426


[MAY,






THE FEAST OF FLAGS.


made of silk, such as monkeys, cows and oxen,
wild boars which the hunters kill, together with
tents, houses, banner-stands, and racks for spears
and arrows made of wood. Such toys as these are
sold only in the months of April and May, just as
the girls' toys for the Feast of Dolls are sold only
in February and March. When we see these boys'
toys for sale, we know that the Feast of Flags is
near at hand.
Now, when I told you about Komme and Lugi
and the Feast of Dolls, I said they had two brothers.
My story is about these two boys.
The older one was nine years old at the time of
my story. His name was Fukutaro. That means
Happy first-born son." He was not the oldest
child of his father, but he was his first son. The
younger of the sons, and the youngest of the
family, was named Rokuni, which means "six-
two," because the little fellow was born on the
second day of the sixth month, as the Japanese
count-or on the second of June, as we reckon.
Ever since Fukutaro was born, the nobori had
been hoisted, and the Feast of Flags celebrated in
his house. Now, this year, father and mother had
two sons, and Fukutaro would have a companion
to play with, though he was still very little.
Wife," said the Japanese papa one evening at
supper-time when eating his rice, we must buy a
new nobori and flags for little Rokuni to-morrow,
and get a new spear and an image of Yoritomo for
Fukutaro. Will you attend to it?"
"I will do so to-morrow. Mr. Tanaka, who
keeps the toy-shop, sent me word that he had
just received a lot of new toys and nobori from
Yeddo."
"And Fukutaro, can you hoist the nobori your-
self, if Ginzo puts up the pole for you ?"
Oyes May I, father? And let baby see it,
too, please And you said you would buy me a
new spear, and Yoritomo on horseback for me. I
/ am so glad. Now my set will be as complete
as my Cousin Yonosuke's. Thank you, thank
you."
So, when the evening of the fourth of May came,
all the toys and images used in former years were
taken out of the fire-proof storehouse, and were
ranged in the' same room in which the girls' Feast
of Dolls had been celebrated. Outside of the house
in the garden the man-servant Ginzo had planted
a strong bamboo pole, thirty feet high, with a pul-
ley and rope.
The fifth of May was a lovely day. When
Fukutaro woke up, he rushed into the room to see
his new spear and his image of Yoritomo, the
famous general, on horseback. And when little
Rokuni, with his face washed and head shaved,
and in a new dress, was brought in, he crowed with


delight at the banner-stand and helmet, and the
little nobori his father had bought for him. He
wanted to crawl up to the helmet to put it on, and
to wave one of the flags.
Wait, Rokuni," said Fukutaro; "let us hoist
the nobori. Come all and see it."
All-father and mother, Komme and Lugi-went
out into the garden. Little Rokuni climbed up on
nurse's back, and was carried out pick-a-back to be
present with the rest.
There is a good breeze to-day, and the nobori
will hang out stiffly, just as prettily as if it were
swimming in the Ashiwa River. Here, Rokuni,
look "
With this, Fukutaro caught hold of the free end
of the rope. The other was attached to opposite
sides of a round hoop that held the paper fish's
mouth open.
The big black paper fish was fifteen feet long,
and had a mouth large enough to swallow Jonah,
with a body wide enough to board and lodge him
for a week. As it rose in the air, the breeze caught
the fish, and it floated out beautifully and flapped
its tail as if alive.
There, it's up !" cried Fukutaro, while Rokuni
crowed and almost danced himself off his nurse's
back, making a complete wreck of her nicely
balanced head-dress.
Komme and Lugi, one on each side, had to hug
him to keep him in order.
I am going up on the fire look-out to see the
other nobori," said Fukutaro; and up he climbed
into the tower which stood near the house, and
which was used for watching fires. Splendid! "
said he, as he looked from the top over the city.
"I can count one, two-ten-twenty-fifty-a
hundred-- Well, I cannot finish counting the
big fishes. Many of them are new, too."
In every direction the big paper fishes were fly-
ing in the wind, tugging at their lines as if alive.
Some were old, and the lively breeze had blown
the fins and tails to tatters, and rent many a hole
in their bodies; but most of them were whole, and
wriggled their fins and tails like real fishes.
I have not yet told you anything about the toys.
When Fukutaro got tired of looking at the nobori,
he came down to play. I shall tell you first about
Rokuni's banner-stand and helmet. In Japan,
every Japanese gentleman buys his son a toy
helmet, to remind him that he may be a soldier
some time, and therefore he must always be brave.
Japanese helmets have a curious vizor, like a mask,
and a long fringe of hair around the sides, and
horns in front-I suppose to frighten enemies.
On the banner-stand in the picture, the first pole
has a round and gilded ball of plaited bamboo.
The nobori hangs to it. On the second -and sixth


1875-1






THE FEAST OF FLAGS.


poles are large round plumes of silvery horse-hair,
like those carried in Japanese parades and pro-
cessions.
Next, is a picture of Shoki. Shoki was a famous
fellow, very rough and stout, with a big sword,
with which he is supposed to kill all the wild beasts,
wicked men, and whatever will hurt good little
boys. He is a sort of "Jack, the Giant-killer,"
only he is a giant himself.
On the fourth pole is Taiko's banner. Taiko was
the greatest general Japan ever had. In his first
battle, he stuck a gourd (a kind of double mock-


pretty toys set out for Fukutaro. There was a fine
image of Jigo Kogo, in armor-the brave queen
who wore a sword like a man, led an army, and
conquered Corea.
Next came her great son, Hachiman, who was
also a famous warrior.
The old men in gray beards were the wise men
who gave counsel to the war-queen Kogo. There
was an image of Shoki, a foot high; and that of
Taiko on horseback, with his armor and spear, was
nearly two feet high.
Then there was a hunting-ground among the


Cr) 7 l










C, -4 I
'II,
I I_


21


ii



III -.
I'
.1'~I III
a '''* I


ROKUNI'S BANNER-STAND. (FROM A DRAWING BY A JAPANESE ARTIST.)


orange) on the top of a pole. Every time he won
a victory he added another gourd beneath it, till
his pole was full. All his enemies were afraid, but
his friends were cheered, whenever Taiko's banner
of gourds was seen. Beneath the gourds, which
are gilt, are long strips of shining white paper.
Every Japanese boy likes to have Taiko's banner
of golden gourds.
The fifth and seventh banners are like those of
the prince whom Fukutaro's ancestors served.
The two round figures on the banners are the
crests or family coat-of-arms of the prince.
But this one banner-stand, bought expressly for
little Rokuni, was scarcely a tenth part of all the


mountains, where Yoritomo and his warriors hunted
the wild boar. There were other splendid toys
representing Yoshitsune Kintaro, and the great
men and famous boys, of whom all Japanese story-
books tell, and of whom every boy in Japan knows
well. Some time I shall tell you some pleasant
stories about them; but now their names are too
strange for you to be interested in them.
It was a good long day for Fukutaro. When he
had played with his flags and banners and images,
he went out in the garden and shot arrows at a
target. He had a splendid silver-tipped bow, and
long steel-headed arrows made of cherry wood,
with red and white feathers. He was such a good


428


[MAY,


' ~i-







A LIVE METEOR.


shot that he could easily hit a fern-leaf at twenty
feet.
In the afternoon, Fukutaro went over to see his
two cousins who lived on the south side of the river.
There the three boys played Yoritomo hunting
the wild boar," and the Battle of Genji and Heiki,"
using soldiers made of straw to shoot at with their
arrows, which had real iron heads on them.


When Fukutaro fell asleep that night, what do
you think he dreamed about Well, he was walk-
ing along a brook, near a waterfall, and he saw a
carp leap clear up out of the water, and over the
falls. Happy as a lark, he told his dream the next
day to his father, who said:
Good, my son! So may you mount over all
difficulties."


A LIVE METEOR.

BY MARY E. C. WYETH.


WE sat up one night last summer to watch the
fall of the meteors. It paid, although we were all
rather drowsy the next afternoon. I sat at the
library window which opened upon the veranda,
where the children were grouped, each with special
occupation, trying to while the languid hours away.
Lucy was embroidering a startling initial in bright
zephyr upon German canvas; Ned was whittling
jack-straws; and Bert was tinkering away at a
wonderful dissecting-map of his own invention.
Uncle Beverly, who had been swinging in the
hammock, after a lazy habit acquired in the Malay-
sian Archipelago or the Antilles (for Uncle Bev was a
restless traveler), laughed as Bert yawned fearfully
for the twentieth time since luncheon.
Poor little chicks," he said, teasingly. "Would
they sit up all night star-gazing, and are they so
sleepy ?"
Bert answered in aggrieved tones:
Can't a person stretch himself without being
sleepy, I wonder?"
Uncle Bev suddenly became very grave, and
made reply :
I suppose a person can; and I hope all persons
will pardon my too hasty inferences. I was only
intending to propose, in case anybody owned to
feeling sleepy, you know, to waken such a one with
the story of the splendid streaming meteor I once
saw in New Guinea. But of course if there's no
need -"
"Oh," cried Lucy eagerly, tell us, please; I'm
as sleepy as can be."
So am I," Ned chimed in; for Uncle Bev was a
story-teller not to be despised. Moreover, in his
roamings through many lands, he observed the
things that he saw. It is not every one who travels,


or who bides at home, that does this. Bert flung
away his map, flipped a peanut at Poll, who, hop-
ping on one foot, eyed it in disgust, and croaked in
melancholy tones: Take it away take it away "
and then, yawning again, our oldest owned that
sitting up nights for shooting-stars was not a bit
jolly next day, adding cutely:
Did you find it so, Uncle Bev ? "
I did n't sit up for them," Uncle Bev replied.
"I saw mine while sleeping in the daytime, or
rather when just awaking from a morning nap,
after an unsuccessful night hunt."
Oh now," cried Lucy incredulously, a meteor
by daylight! "
"Yes; and a live one at that," persisted Uncle
Bev, and cawed like a crow,-a refined, ethereal-
ized crow,-and summoned a dozen or so of its
kind, who all bathed in a pool close by, and then
fluttered up to the low-spreading branches of a
neighboring teak-tree, where they disported them-
Sselves in a most bewitching manner as they made
their toilets."
Uncle Bev !" exclaimed Lucy, "is that all a
riddle ?"
Yes," laughed the story-teller. Give it up ?
Paradise Apaoda."
Oh, now I know all about it," cried Bert,
brightening up. Bird-o'-paradise! has n't any
feet; lives on the wing, and feeds on dew; raises
its young on the shoulders of the male bird, and
comes from the Garden of Eden. When it wants
to rest it hangs itself to a tree-limb by its tail
feathers."
How Uncle Bev laughed !
"Bless my life! what a surprising quantity of
knowledge, and of what surprising quality. A


429






A. LIVE METEOR.


great bird-of-paradise with no feet! A native
Papuan would tell you that its feet and legs are of
great size and very strong. How this old notion
first originated I can't say. I've heard that the
bird-hunters who sold them in Batavia and Singa-
pore used to cut off their legs in order to enhance
the value, by making the birds appear to be foot-
less."
"I'm sure the name 'Afoda' --" began
Bert.
Is a relic of the old superstition," continued
Uncle Bev. The naturalist who retained this ab-
surd designation probably thought more of dis-
tinguishing an already recognized species than of
perpetuating a fallacy. Then, as to the living on
dew, well, the insects of Papua and the Arroo
Islands and that very old teak-tree could tell a truer
tale. I have seen the lovely tamed birds of my
friend, Mr. Sales, eat boiled rice and eggs and
plantain. Indeed, many a choice bit of fruit have
I tossed them, and learned in the exercise of feed-
ing the birds to be quite skillful as a tosser, for if
by chance any bit fell to the bottom of the cages,
instead of into the open bill, the birds will not come
down for it at risk of soiling their exquisite plumage,
for of all creatures birds-of-paradise are the most
daintily cleanly."
"And don't they come from Eden?" asked
Bert, ruefully. "Is the whole of the name a
fraud?"
Possibly the species was known to Adam and
Noah," said Uncle Bev. "They are certainly
beautiful enough to have adorned the gardens of
the terrestrial Paradise, but I think at the present
day one may search for them with hope of success
only in the Malaysian Archipelago. During the
dry weather of the north-west monsoon many of
these birds, flying in flocks of thirty or forty, led
by a leader, as our geese fly, leave Papua for the
Arroo Islands, lying to the west. They return
during the south-east monsoon. On account of
their peculiar plumage they always face the wind,
whether flying or sitting. A sudden change of
wind confuses them, and often dashes them to the
ground. Mr. Sales captured several of his speci-
mens in one of these shifting of the wind."
"Why is a bird-of-paradise like a meteor?"
asked Ned, for all the world in the tone of one put-
ting a conundrum. Uncle Bev,'however, remem-
bered his styling it a splendid streaming meteor,
and answered:
As I opened my eyes that memorable morning
upon the enchanting spectacle, I could liken it to
nothing that would so nearly illustrate the brilliancy
of its glancing beauty as it streamed before my sur-
prised and delighted vision."
Did you not try to catch it ?" asked Lucy.


No; for before I could recover from my first
surprise my meteor uttered a few short, happy,
melodious notes, followed by a sharp, quick caw,
and lo, a whole bevy of the superb creatures came
glancing down, and plunged into the waters of the
pool, and then I began to realize that if I kept per-
fectly motionless I should have the chance I had
most longed for since coming to New Guinea-of
witnessing the bird-of-paradise performing his morn-
ing ablutions.
In order to make my account of the apoda's
peculiar manner of making his toilet, I will first
describe to you as well as I can the peculiarity of
the plumage of this variety of the species. The
whole family of birds-of-paradise is noted for the
wondrous beauty and lustrousness of the rich and
varied coloring, and the gem-like glittering of the
splendid metallic tints. This picture in my portfolio
of the red bird-of-paradise represents another bird
of this family, that closely resembles the apoda in
its general form and in the arrangement of its plu-
mage.
"The apoda has no crest like that which you
notice on the head of this bird, and the plumes on
the sides of the apoda are of different colors, ranging
from yellow to purple, while those of the other are
of a magnificent red, giving it the name of the
ruby, or red bird-of-paradise. In other respects
the two are very much alike.
The plumage of the head, neck, and throat of
the apoda is dense and short, resembling the pile
of the richest velvet. The hue of the feathers of
the bill and face is black, changing to green; that
of those on the throat, front half of neck, and upper
part of the breast is of the rarest emerald green;
that of the back of the neck, shoulders, and top of
the head is of a light golden yellow, while that of
the back, wings, and tail is of a bright chocolate
color. The plumage of the lower breast is of a
reddish chestnut, inclining to purple."
"Oh, how exquisite sighed the color-loving
Lucy.
Words convey no idea of the exceeding brill-
iancy of the glinting hues, which seem to glow and
scintillate like gems of the first water. As I lay
under the tree, enjoying the vision of the mingling,
interfusing and most exquisitely tinted colors, I
thought that these lovely creatures were rightly
named birds-of-paradise, for the glorious dyes of
their wondrous plumage seemed worthy to have
been reflections of the glowing, gem-laid walls
of the Celestial City.
"From beneath the short, chocolate-tinted
;i p:|:.;ri.g numerous slender, delicate plumes,
ail-:i. .- i.ireen inches in length. Many suppose
ithle t.. I.- tail-feathers, but this is an error. The
t.i.il-j eii.r- are beneath these, and are only six


[MAY,






A LIVE METEOR.


inches long. These long, flexible plumes the birds
can elevate and toss above and around them, al-
lowing them to float in the air like filmy ribbons of
gossamer, fashioned with aerial grace and tinted
with translucent, opaline hues of every conceivable
shade of gold, of yellow, of white, and of orange,
deepening toward the ends of the delicate streamers
into a soft, purplish red.
"As they sat amid the branches of the tree,
their long, filmy feathers elevated and floating
gracefully in the sunshine, the exquisite plumes


and hops about, posturing in the most engaging
manner."
"How large is the paradisea apoda ?" asked Bert.
"About the size of the meadow lark, though
the thickness and length of its plumage cause it to
appear as large as a common pigeon. If you care
to hear about some of the other varieties, I will get
my portfolio of drawings. I have some sketches
and descriptions taken down on the various occa-
sions of meeting these captivating creatures."
Ned and Lucy and Bert were wide awake now,


T- E ,RED B 'D-.1
- "I '. "* 'IN .,



THE RED BIRD-OF-PARADISE.


crossing and recrossing each other, forming the
most entrancing combinations of color, the short,
chocolate-hued wings kept up the while a continu-
ous gentle flapping, producing thus a delightful
effect of light and shade upon the rich, gorgeous
coloring of the body plumage. To free the feathers
from any speck of impurity, the bird passes each of
the long, delicate plumes through its beak, and
when the toilet is satisfactorily accomplished the
lovely creature seems to go into ecstasies of delight,


and eager to hear, but the sound of wheels upon
the gravel announced visitors, and even birds-of-
paradise cannot be allowed to interrupt the cour-
tesies of life.
Another time, perhaps," said Uncle Bev, as he
rose to receive our guests, I may be able to show
you my other pictures, and to tell you something
more about these birds, which seem to have in-
terested you even more than the meteors you sat
up for last night."







POOR PUCK.


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% ~ ~ ? ._ .^ __ _, .^:_-^






THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


THE YOUNG. SURVEYOR.

By J. T. TROWBRIDGE.


CHAPTER XVIII.
VINNIE'S NEW BROOM.
RETURNING from his interview with Mr. Peak-
slow, Jack drove up on the roadside before the
"castle," asked Rufe to hold the horse a minute,
and ran to the door to bid Vinnie good-by.
"Here, Link!" Rufe called, "stand by this
horse !"
"I can't," answered Link from the wood-pile.
" I've got to get some wood, to make a fire, to
heat some water, to dip the chickens, to loosen
their feathers, and then to cook 'em for dinner."
"Never mind the wood and the chickens and
feathers! Come along!"
"I guess I will mind, and I guess I wont come
along, for you, or anybody's horse; for she asked
me to."
"She? Who?"
Aunt Vinnie; and, I tell you, she's real slick."
And Link slashed away at the wood with an axe;
for that was the Betterson style,-to saw and split
the sticks only as the immediate necessities of the
house required.
Rufe might have hitched the horse, but he was
not a fellow to give himself any trouble that could
well be avoided; and just then he saw Wad coming
out of the yard with two pails.
Wad, being cordially invited to stay and hold the
horse, also declined, except on condition that Rufe
should himself go at once to the spring for water.
"Seems to me you're in a terrible pucker for
water !" said Rufe. Two pails? what's the row,
Wad?" For it was the time-honored custom of
the boys to put off going for water.as long as human
patience could endure without it, and never, except
in great emergencies, to take two pails.
"She asked me to, and of course I'd go for her,"
said Wad. She has gone into that old kitchen,
and, I tell you, she 'll make things buzz!"
Meanwhile Jack had gone straight to the said
kitchen,-much to Mrs. Betterson's dismay,-and
found Vinnie in a neat brown dress, with apron on,
and sleeves pinned up. He thought he had never
seen her look so bright and beautiful.
"At work so soon !" he exclaimed.
"The sooner the better," she replied. Don't
look around you; my sister is sick, you know."
"I wont hinder you a minute," Jack said. I
just ran in to tell you the good news about my


horse,-though I suppose you've heard that from
the boys,-and to say good-by,-and one word
more!" lowering his voice. "If anything happens
-if it is n't pleasant for you to be here, you know,
-there is a home at Mrs. Lanman's; it will be al-
ways waiting for you."
I thank you and Mrs. Lanman very much !"
said Vinnie, with a trembling lip. "But I mean
to make things pleasant here," a smile breaking
through the momentary trouble of her face.
Jack declined an urgent invitation to stay and
see what sort of a dinner she could get.
"By the way," he whispered, as she followed
him to the door, "who carried in that trunk?"
When she told him, he was hugely delighted.
"You will get along! Here comes Rufe. Rufus,
this is your Aunt Vinnie."
Rufus (who had finally got Chokie to hold the
horse's halter) blushed to the roots of his hair at
meeting his relative, and finding her so very youth-
ful (I think it has already been said that the aunt
was younger than the nephew), and altogether so
fresh and charming in her apron and pinned-up
sleeves.
She smilingly gave him her hand, which he took
rather awkwardly, and said:
"How d' 'e do, Aunt Lavinia ? I suppose I must
call you aunt."
"Call me just Vinnie; the idea of my being
aunt to young men like you!" '
There was a little constraint on both sides, which
Link relieved by pushing between them with a big
armful of wood.
Well, good-by," said Jack. She will need a
little looking after, Rufus; see that she does n't
work too hard."
You are not going to work hard for us/" said
Rufus, with some feeling, after Jack was gone.
"That depends," Vinnie replied. You can
make things easy for me, as I am sure you will."
"Of course; just let me know if they don't go
right. Call on Link or Wad for anything; make
'em stand round."
Vinnie smiled at Rufe's willingness to have his
brothers brought into the line of discipline.
"They are both helping me now. But I find
there are no potatoes in the house, and I 've been
wondering who would get them. Lill says they
are to be dug in the field, and that she digs them
sometimes; but that seems too bad !"


[MAY,






THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


That's when Wad and Link-there's no need
of her-I don't believe in girls digging potatoes !"
Rufe stammered.
0, but you know," cried Lill, "sometimes we
should n't have any potatoes for dinner if I did n't
go and dig them. I don't care, only it's such hard
work!"
Vinnie looked admiringly at the bright, brave
little girl. Rufe colored redder than ever, and said :
Don't you, now, do such a thing! Only let me
know in season what's wanted; I 'l1 be after those
boys with a sharp stick!"
Vinnie could n't help laughing.
So, when we're going to want a handful of
wood, a pail of water, or a basket of potatoes, I am
to go for you, and you will go for the boys, and
drive them up with your sharp stick! I don't
think I shall like that. Would n't it be better for
you to see that there are always potatoes in the
bin, and wood in the box, and other things on hand
that you know will be needed ?"
It was perhaps quite as much her winning way
as the good sense of this appeal which made it
irresistible.
Of course it would be better I'll get you a
basket of potatoes now, and some green corn, and
I '11 look out for the water and wood."
O, thank you!" said Vinnie. "That will
make things so much easier and pleasanter for all
of us "
The potatoes and corn were got with a cheerful
alacrity which quite astonished Rufe's mother and
sisters.
The inertia of a large body being thus overcome,
that well-known property of matter tended to keep
Rufus still in motion ; and while Vinnie, with Lill's
help, was getting the dinner ready, he might have
been seen approaching the wood-pile with an eye
to business.
"See here, Wad! This wood is pretty dry
now; don't you think it had better be cut up and
got in before there comes a rain?"
Yes, s'pose 't would be a good idea."
We ought to be ashamed," Rufe went on, "to
have her calling for a handful of wood every time
it's wanted, or going out to hack a little for her-
self, if we 're not around; for she '11 do it."
I s'pose so," Wad assented. Why don't you
go to work and cut it up? I '11 sit down on a log
and whittle, and keep you company."
Pshaw don't talk that way. I'll go to work
at it if you will come. Will you saw or split ?"
Wad laughed and said he would split,-perhaps
because the sawing must be done first.
This saw is in a frightful condition !" Rufe said,
stopping to breathe after sawing a few sticks.
So is this axe; look at the edge It's too dull


even to split with," said Wad. "A small boy
might ride to mill on it without suffering any very
great inconvenience."
If father would only file and set this saw, I 'd
help you grind the axe," said Rufe.
The paternal Betterson was just then returning
from a little walk about his estate. As he ap-
proached, hat in hand, wiping his noble forehead,
under the shade of the oaks, Rufe addressed him.
"We've got to have wood in the house; now
she's come, it wont do to get it by little driblets,
and have her waiting for it and worrying about it.
I'll saw it, if you 'll only set the saw; you know
how, and I don't; we'll do the hard work if you '11
furnish a little of your skill."
Rufe knew how to appeal to the paternal vanity.
The idea of furnishing, not labor, but skill, flattered
my lord.
Ah! let me look at the saw. And bring me
the file. And set out the shave-horse. I 'll show
you how the thing is done."
When Link, who in the meanwhile had been
dressing the prairie chickens behind the house,
came round and saw his pompous papa sitting
under an oak-tree, astride the "shave-horse," filing
away at the saw held in its clumsy jaws, and Wad
turning the grindstone close by, while Rufe held
on the axe, he ran into the house laughing.
Mother! just look out there Father and Rufe
and Wad all at work at once! Guess the world's
coming to an end!"
"I hope some of our troubles are coming to an
end," sighed poor Mrs. Betterson, who sat nursing
her babe with a bottle. "It's all owing to her.
A new broom sweeps clean. She brings a very
good influence; but I can't hope it will last."
"0, mother!" said Cecie, from her lounge,
"don't say that. I am sure it will last; she is so
good! You '11 do all you can for her, wont you,
Link? "
I bet !" was Link's laconic response. If they
only will, too, for there aint much fun in doing
chores while father and Rufe and Wad are just
loafing round."
He hastened to Vinnie with his chickens.
."Just look out there once! All at. it! Aint it
fun?"
It was fun to Vinnie, indeed.

CHAPTER XIX.
LINK'S WOOD-PILE.
THE dinner, though late that day, was unusually
sumptuous, and Betterson and his boys brought to
it keen appetites from their work. Vinnie's cooking
received merited praise, and the most cordial good-
will prevailed.


5875.]


435






THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


Even little Chokie, soiling face and fingers with
a drum-stick" he was gnawing, lisped out his
commendation of the repast.
I wish Aunt Vinnie would be here forever, and
div us dood victuals."
I second the motion!" cried Link, sucking a
"wish-bone," and then setting it astride his nose,
-"to dry," as he said.
One would think we never had anything fit to
eat before," said Mrs. Betterson; while my lord
looked flushed and frowning over his frayed stock.
"You know, mother," said Lill, I never could
cook prairie chickens. And you have n't been well
enough to, since the boys began to shoot them."
"Lincoln," said Mrs. Betterson, "remove that
unsightly object from your nose! Have you for-
gotten your manners ?"
He never had any !" exclaimed Rufe, snatching
the wish-bone from its perch.
Here i give that back! I 'm going to keep it,
and wish with Cecie bimeby, and we're both going
to wish that Aunt Vinnie had come here a year
ago-that is-I mean-pshaw !" said Link, whose
ideas were getting rather mixed.
Poor Mrs. Betterson complained a great deal to
her sister that afternoon of the impossibility of
keeping up the style and manners of the family in
that new country.
Vinnie-who sat holding the baby by Cecie's
lounge-asked why the family had chosen that new
country.
Mr. Betterson had been unfortunate in business
at the East, and it was thought best that he should
try Illinois," was Caroline's way of stating that after
her husband had run through two small fortunes
which had fallen to him, and exhausted the patience
of relatives upon whom he was constantly calling
for help, a wealthy uncle had purchased this farm
for him, and placed him on it to be rid of him.
I should think you might sell the farm and
move away," said Vinnie.
"There are certain obstacles," replied Caroline;
-the said uncle, knowing that Lord could not keep
property from flying away, having shrewdly tied
this down by means of a mortgage.
"One thing," Caroline continued, I have al-
ways regretted. A considerable sum of money fell
to Mr. Betterson after we came here; and he-
wisely, we thought at the time, but unfortunately,
as it proved-put it into this house. We. expected
to have a large part of it left; but the cost of build-
ing was such that all was absorbed before the house
was finished."
Such was Caroline's account of the manner in
which the "castle" came to be built. Vinnie was
amazed at the foolish vanity and improvidence of
the lord of it; but she only said:


There seems to be a great deal of unused room
in the house; I should think you might let that,
and a part of the farm, to another family."
Caroline smiled pityingly.
Lavinia dear, you don't understand. We could
never think of taking another family into our
house, for the sake of money / though it might be
well to let the farm. Besides, there is really one
more in the family than you see. I think I have n't
yet spoken to you of Radcliff,-my husband's
nephew."
You mentioned such a person in your letter to
me," replied Vinnie.
Ah, yes; when I was giving some of the reasons
why we had never had you come and live with us.
Well-off as we were at one time,-and are now in
prospect, if not in actual appearance,-we could
not very well take. you as a child into our family,
if we took Radcliff. He was early left an orphan,
and it was thought best by the connections that he
should be brought up by my husband. I assure
you, Lavinia, that nobody but a Betterson should
ever have been allowed to take your place in our
family."
Vinnie pictured to herself a youth of precious
qualities and great promise, and asked:
Where is Radcliff now ?"
He is not with us just at present. He is of age
and his own master; and though we make a home
for him, he's away a good deal."
What is his business ?"
He has no -fixed pursuit. He is, in short, a
gentleman at large."
What supports him ?"
He receives a limited allowance from our rela-
tives on the Betterson side," said Caroline, pleased
with the interest her sister seemed to take in the
illustrious youth. "He is not so stylish a man as
my husband, by any means; my husband is a
Betterson of the Bettersons. But Radcliff has the
blood, and is very aristocratic in his tastes."
Caroline enlarged upon this delightful theme,
until Cecie (who seemed to weary of it) exclaimed:
"0, mother, do see how Aunt Vinnie soothes
the baby !"
Indeed, it seemed as if the puny thing must have
felt the flood of warmth and love from Vinnie's
heart bathing its little life.
That afternoon Rufe and Wad sawed and split
the wood, and Link (with Chokie's powerful assist-
ance) carried it into an unfinished room behind the
kitchen,-sometimes called the "back room," and
sometimes the "lumber room,"--and corded it up
against the wall. An imposing pile it was, of
which the young architect was justly proud, no
such sight ever having been seen in that house be-
fore.


436


[MAY,






THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


Every ten or fifteen minutes he called Vinnie or
Lill to see how the pile grew; and at last he in-
sisted on bringing Cecie, and letting her be aston-
ished.
Cecie was only too glad of any little diversion.
She could walk with a good deal of assistance;
Vinnie almost lifted the poor girl in her loving
arms; Link supported her on the other side; and
so they bore her to the back room, where she







-
p,,

--i
4I 1





41,
PI



-2.w;-;.N:-


LINK'S WOOD-PILE.

S leaned affectionately on Vinnie, while Link stood
aside and pointed proudly at his wood-pile.
"We never could get him to bring in a stick of
wood before without teasing or scolding him," said
Lill.
This is different; there's some fun in this,"
said Link. "Rufe and Wad have been at work
like sixty; and we wanted to see how big a pile we
could make."
All praised the performance; and Mrs. Betterson
so far forgot herself as to say she felt rich now, with
so much nice, dry, split wood in the house.
"But what a remark," she added immediately,
turning to Vinnie, "for one of oar family to make !"
"I was never so proud of my brothers !" said
Cecie. "If I was only well enough, how I should
like to help pile up that wood "


"Dear Cecie !" cried Vinnie, embracing her, "I
wish you were well enough I And I hope you will
be sometime."
The wood was all disposed of that afternoon, and
the boys concluded that they had had a pretty good
time over it.
Now we can loaf for a whole week, and make
a business of it," said Wad.
"There 's one more job that ought to be done,"
said Rufe. That potato-patch. We
-: can't keep the pigs out of it, and it's
time the potatoes were dug."
"I s'pose so," said Wad. "Wish
we had a hired man."
-" It is n't much of a job," said Rufe.
"And we don't want to be seen loaf-
ing round, now she 's here."
"We can go up in the woods and
pt loaf," said Wad.
S "Don't talk silly," said Rufe.
S Come, I '11 go at the potatoes to-
S morrow, if you will. We'll dig, and
S make Link pick 'em up."
I was going to shoot some more
prairie chickens to-morrow. We've
no other meat for dinner."
S "We 'll get father to shoot them.
'' ,' Come, Wad, what do you say ? "
Wad declined to commit himself to
an enterprise requiring so large an
I: outlay of bone and muscle. All Rufe
S could get from him was a promise to
"sleep on the potatoes" and say
what he thought of them in the morn-
ing.
The next morning, accordingly, be-
S fore the cattle were turned out of the
yard, Rufe said:
Shall we yoke up the steers and
take the wagon down into the potato
patch? We can be as long as we please filling it."
"Yes, we may as well take it down there and
leave it," Wad assented; and the steers were yoked
accordingly.
Lord Betterson was not surprised to see the
wagon go to the potato-patch, where he thought it
might as well stay during the rest of the season, as
anywhere else. But he was surprised afterward to
see the three boys-or perhaps we should say four,
for Chokie was of the party-start off with their
hoes and baskets.
"We are going to let you shoot the prairie
chickens this forenoon," said Rufe. "You'll find
the gun and ammunition all ready, in the back
room. We are going at the potatoes."
Link went ahead and pulled the tops, and after-
ward picked up the potatoes, filling the -baskets,






THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


which his brothers helped him carry off and empty
into the wagon-box; while Chokie dug holes in the
black loam to his heart's content.
"We might have had a noble crop here," said
Rufe, if it had n't been for the weeds and pigs.
Wad, we must n't let the weeds get the start of us
so another year. And we'll do some repairs on
the fences this Fall. I'm ashamed of 'em!"

CHAPTER XX.
MORE WATER THAN THEY WANTED.
A DOCTOR from North Mills came once a week
to visit Cecie and the sick mother and baby. One
afternoon he brought in his chaise a saddle and
bridle, which he said a young fellow would call for
in a day or two. The boys laughed as they put the
saddle away; they knew who the young fellow was,
and they hoped he would have a chance to use it.
Snowfoot's week was up the next forenoon; and
at about ten o'clock, Jack, accompanied by Lion,
and c-rrying a double-barreled fowling-piece, with
which he had shot a brace of prairie hens by the
way, walked into the Betterson door-yard.
He found the boys at the lower end of the house,
with the steers and wagon.
What's the news ?" he asked.
"The news with us is, that we 're out of rain-
water," Rufe replied.
"I should think so," said Jack, looking into a
dry hogshead which stood under the eaves-spout.
It's too much of a bother to bring all our water
by the pailful. So we are going to fill these things
at the river, and make the steers haul 'em."
There were three wash-tubs and a barrel, which
the boys were putting upon the bottom boards of
the wagon-box, from which the sides had been re-
moved.
Jack was pleased with this appearance of enter-
prise; he also noticed with satisfaction that the
yard had been cleared up since he last saw it.
He asked about Vinnie, and learned from the
looks and answers the boys gave him that she was
popular.
Your saddle came yesterday," said Wad; so
I s'pose you expect to ride home."
I feel rather inclined that way. How is our
friend Peakslow ?"
"Don't know; he went to Chicago, and he
has n't got back."
"Has n't got back said. Jack, astonished.
That's mean business "
He smothered his vexation, however, and told
the boys that he would go with them to the river,
after he had spoken with Vinnie.
Entering the house, he was still more surprised at
the changes which had taken place since his last visit.


Her coming has been the greatest blessing "
said Caroline, detaining him in the sitting-room.
"We are all better,-the doctor noticed it yester-
day; Cecie and baby and I are all better. Lavinia
dear will see you presently; I think she is just
taking some bread out of the oven."
"Let me go into the kitchen-she wont mind
me," said Jack.
Vinnie, rosy-red from her baking, met him at
the door. He had been very anxious about her
since he left her there; but a glance showed him
that all had gone well.
"You have survived he said.
"Yes, indeed !" she replied. "I told you I
would make things pleasant here."
The boys like you, I see."
"And I like them. They do all they can for
me. Rufus even helped me about the washing,-
pounded and wrung out the clothes. You must
stay to dinner to-day."
I think I may have to," said Jack; "for my
horse has n't come back from Chicago yet, and I
don't mean to go home without him."
When he went out he found the boys waiting,
and accepted a seat with Wad and Link on a board
placed across two of the tubs. Rufe walked by the
cattle's horns; while in the third tub sat Chokie.
"You can't sit in that tub going back, you
know," said Link.
"Yes, I can! I will! And Chokie clung fast
to the handles.
0, well, you can- if you want to, I suppose,"
said Link; but it will be full of water."
They passed the potato-patch (Jack smiled to see
that the potatoes had been dug), crossed a strip of
meadow land below, and then rounded a bend in
the river, in the direction of a deep place the boys
knew.
I always hate to ride after oxen,-they go so
tormented slow said Link. "Why don't some-
body invent a wagon to go by steam ?"
Did you ever see a wagon go by water ? Jack
asked.
No, nor anybody else !"
"I have," said Jack. I know a man in this
county who has one."
What man ? I'd go five miles to see one "
You can see one without going so far. The
man is your father, and this is the wagon. It is
going by water now."
By water-yes By the river said Link,
amused and vexed.
Link," said Jack, do you'remember that little
joke of yours about the boys stopping the leak in
the boat ? Well, we are even now."
Rufe backed the hind-wheels of the wagon into
the river, over the deep place, and asked Wad


[MAY,






THE YOUNG


SURVEYOR.


which he would do,-dip the water and pass it up
by the pailful, or stay in the wagon and receive it.
"Whoever dips it up has got to stand in the
river above his knees," said Wad; "and I don't
mean to get wet to-day."
Very well; stay in the wagon, then. You'll
get as wet as I shall; for I'm going to pull off my
shoes and roll up my trousers. Chokie, you keep
in that tub, just where you are, till the tub is
wanted. Link, you 'd better go into the rivei with
me, and dip the pails, while I pass 'em up to Wad."
"I never can keep my trousers-legs rolled up,
Sand I aint going to get wet," said Link. Then,
whispering to Jack: There's leeches in this river;
they get right into a fellow's flesh and suck his
blood like sixty."
Wad proposed to begin with the barrel, and to
have Link stand at the end of the wagon, receive
the pails, pass them to him, and pass them back to
Rufe empty.
"Why not move the barrel to the end of the
wagon, and fill it about two-thirds full, and then
move it back again ? I '11 help you do that," said
Link.
All right; I '11 fill the barrel and one of the
tubs; then you shall fill the other two tubs."
Link agreed to this; while Jack smiled to hear
so much talk about doing so small a thing.
Rufe went in bare-legged, and stood on the edge
of the deep hole, where the water was hardly up to
his knees. Much as he disliked, ordinarily, to set
about any work, he was strong and active when
once roused; and the pails of water went up on
the wagon about as fast as Wad cared to take
them.
"Hullo Don't slop so You're wetting my
feet cried Wad.
'"I can't keep from spilling a drop once in
awhile. You might have taken off your shoes and
rolled up your trousers, as I did."
The barrel was soon two-thirds full, and Wad
called upon Link to help him move it forward.
Link left his seat by Jack's side, and walked back
to the rear of the wagon. Wad, as we know, was
already there. So was the barrel of water, stand-
ing just back of the rear axletree. So also was a
fresh pail of water, which Rufe had placed at the
extreme end, because Wad was not ready to
take it.
At that moment the oxen, hungry for fresh
grass, and having nipped all within reach of their
noses, started up a little. Jack, thinking to pre-
vent mischief by running to their heads, leaped
from the front of the wagon.
This abrupt removal of weight from one end,
and large increase of avoirdupois at the other, pro-
duced a natural but very surprising result. Chokie


in his tub, though at the long end of the beam, so
to speak (the rear axletree being the fulcrum), was
not heavy enough to counterbalance two brothers
and a barrel of water at the short end.
He suddenly felt himself rising in the air, and
sliding with the empty tubs. His brothers at the
same moment felt themselves sinking and pitch-
ing. There was a chorus of shrieks, as they made
a desperate effort to save themselves. Too late;
.the wagon-bottom reared, and away went barrel,
boys, tubs, everything.
The oxen, starting at the alarm, helped to pre-
cipitate the catastrophe. Fortunately, Jack was at
hand to stop them, or the dismantled wagon might
have gone flying across the lot, even fast enough to
suit Link's notion of speed.
Rufe made one quick effort to prevent the boards
from tipping up, then leaped aside, while the dis-
charged load shot past him.
Chokie, screaming, held fast to the sides of his
tub with both hands. Wad, intending to jump,
plunged into the deepest part of the river. Link
made a snatch at the barrel, and, playing at leap-
frog over it (very unwillingly), went headlong into
the deep hole.
Chokie met with a wonderfully good fortune;
his tub being launched so neatly, and ballasted so
nicely by him sitting in the bottom, that it shipped
but a splash of water, and he floated away, unhurt
and scarcely wet at all, amidst the general ruin.
The wagon-boards, relieved of their load, tum-
bled back upon the wheels. To add to the con-
fusion, Lion barked furiously.
Jack, frightened at first, finally began to laugh,
when he saw Chokie sailing away, under full
scream, and Wad and Link scrambling out of the
water.
So you were the fellows that were not going to
get wet! cried Rufe. Pick out your barrel and
empty tubs, while I catch Chokie "
The river, even in the deepest place, was not
very deep; and Wad and Link came wading out,
blowing water from their mouths, flirting water
from their hair, and shaking water from their
rescued hats, in a way that made Rufe (after he
had stranded Chokie in his tub) roll upon the grass
in convulsions.
Laugh, then cried Wad, in a rage; I'll
give you something to laugh at! And, catching
up a tub partly filled with water, he rushed with it
to take wet vengeance on his dry brother.
Before Rufe, helpless with laughter, could move
to defend himself, tub, water, and Wad, all together,
were upon him,-the tub capsizing over his head
and shoulders, Wad tumbling upon the tub, and
the water running out in little rivulets below.
Rufe was pretty wet, but still laughing, when he


439









crawled out, like a snail from under his shell, and says the turkey. Quit your ownself !' says the thief.
got upon his feet, clutching the tub to hurl it at And I 'm just of his way of thinking," said Wad.
Wad, who fled. Well! help me put this wagon into shape,"
You are the only one who has got any dry fun said Rufe. Then we'll fill our tubs and barrel
out of this scrape Rufe said, trying to brush the without any more fooling."
water from his neck and breast. The wagon-boards were replaced and loaded
His words were addressed to Jack, and they .without any further accident. The well-filled tubs
proved more strictly true than he intended; for were set one upon another, and Wad stood holding
just then Chokie, trying to get out of his stranded them; while Link, having placed the board seat
tub, tipped it over, and went out of it, upon his over the barrel of water, sat upon it. They found
hands and knees, into the river. By the time he it a pretty sloppy ride; but they could laugh defi-

t-- .. --- -:... 2_ --2 -...-- -_


HOW THE BOYS WENT TO THE RIVER FOR WATER.


was pulled out and set upon dry ground, the boys
were all pretty good-natured..
How about those leeches, Link? Did you find
any ?" said Jack.
I 'm too dizzy yet, to think about leeches,"
replied Link. I turned a somerset out of that
wagon so quick, I could see the patch on the seat
of my trousers "
"I thought I was going through to China," said
Wad, and expected, when I came up, to see men
with pigtails."
He stood on the edge of the water, holding
another tub for Rufe, if he should come too near.
Quit your nonsense now cried Rufe, and
hand up that barrel."
I '11 quit if you will,-as the poultry thief said
when the old gobbler chased him. Quit, quit!'


ance at a little water now. Chokie, it need hardly
be said, did not ride in a tub of water, but walked
between Jack and Rufe beside the oxen.


CHAPTER XXI.
PEAKSLOW SHOWS HIS HAND.
HULLO !" cried Link from his perch, as the
wagon passed the potato-patch, there comes
Peakslow down the road through the woods-just
turning the corner for home!"
Jack started with sudden excitement.
Can you see his team ? "
"Yes; one of the horses looks like yours; and
he has an extra horse led behind."
Jack ran up to the road to get a look, and came


[MAY,


440


THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.






THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


laughing back to the house, where the boys and
their load of water had by that time arrived.
"He is driving my horse, and leading one of
his own. I am going to get my bridle, and call on
him."
You'll come back to dinner?" said Rufe.
Yes, if you'll have my prairie chickens cooked."
And, leaving the boys to astonish the family with
their wet clothes, Jack, with the bridle on his arm.
walked down the road.
Just as he was entering Peakslow's yard, he met
Mr. Wiggett coming out with, his arms full of
brown-paper parcels.
"Mr. Wiggett! glad to see you! "
"Same to yourself," replied the old man.
Got my arms full o' this yer stuff, or I'd shake
hands. I've a lot more o' comforts for wife and
young uns in the wagon; but I thought I 'd lug
along suthin, or they would n't be glad to see me."
Is it all right about the horse ?"
"I 'low it's all right."
Is Peakslow up to any trick? "
"Nary, as I kin diskiver; and I pumped him,
tew, right smart, a-comin' over the prairiee"
"Did he have much trouble getting back his
horse?"
"Not sich a dog-goned sight. Truckman's a
straight-for'ard, honest chap. Says he guy eighty
dollars for your hoss; thinks he had him of the
thief himself; and 'lows he knows the rascal. He
stuck out a little at fust, and you should 'a' heard
Peakslow preach tew him 'T was ekal to gwine
to meeting. "
"What did he say? "
Said none but a fool or a scoundrel would
ca'c'late he could hang 'ontew a piece o' prop'ty
that had been stole, or traded for what had been
stole. Talked, of course, just t' other way from
what he did when he talked to you. Truckman
did n't mind his gab, but when he was satisfied the
hoss he put away had been stole, he guv up Peak-
slow's, and the fifteen dollars to boot. Now how
in the name of seven kingdoms Peakslow's gwine
to turn it about to make anything more, beats all
my understanding! "
Jack thanked the old man warmly for the interest
he had taken in the affair, and asked how he could
pay him for his trouble.
I have n't looked for no pay," replied the old
man. "But one thing I should like to have ye
dew for me, if ever ye come my way ag'in with yer
compass. My woman guy me right smart of her
jaw for forgittin' it when ye was thar before. She
wants a noon-mark on our kitchen floor."
"All right," said Jack. She shall have it."


The old man went on with his bundles, while
Jack entered Peakslow's yard.
Peakslow, who was unharnessing his team, with
the help of two stout boys, looked up when he saw
Jack, and said, in a tone which he meant should
be friendly:
"How air ye? On hand, I see," with a grim
smile at the bridle.
I was on hand a little before you were," replied
Jack. Your week was up an hour ago. Though
I don't care about that. You 've got your horse, I
see."
That's the main thing I went for; course I've
got him. Here's a paper, with the truckman's
name wrote on't; he wants you to come and see
him when you go to town, pervided he don't come
to see you fust."
Did he say anything about a bridle and blanket
that were on the horse when he was stolen ?"
He's got 'em," Peakslow coolly replied; "but
as no reward was offered for anything but the boss,
I did n't take 'em."
Jack did n't quite see the logic of this remark.
"Never mind; they are trifles," he said. "It's
glory enough for one while, to get my horse again.
I've a bridle here for him; I '11 slip it on, Zeph, if
you 'll slip yours off."
You can slip your bridle on that hoss, and take
him away, when you've fulfilled the conditions;
not before," said Peakslow.
"What conditions?" said Jack. "You don't
pretend to claim my horse now you've got your
own back ? "
I've got a claim on him," Peakslow replied.
Here's your own handbill for it. Twenty Dollars
Reward! I've got back your hoss for ye, and I
demand the reward."
This, then, after all, was the quirk in Peakslow's
head. The boys grinned. Jack was astounded.
"Peakslow," he exclaimed indignantly, "you
know that's an absurd claim! You didn't find
my horse and deliver him to me; I found him in
your hands, and you even refused to give him up !
The truckman has a better claim for the reward
than you have, for he had him first; and then I
don't see but the thief himself has a prior claim to
either."
"You talk like a fool! said Peakslow.
"You act like a fool and a knave !" Jack re-
torted, in a sudden blaze. "I wont have any more
words with you. Sue for the reward, if you think
you can get it. I 'm just going to take my horse!"
"Not till the reward is paid, if I live! said
Peakslow, his black eyes sparkling. Zeph, step
and hand out the old gun "


(To be continued.)


VOL. II.-29.


441






THE BAKER AND THE TOBACCONIST.


THE BAKER AND THE TOBACCONIST.
(Translation of French Story in March Niember.)


WHAT a very curious house Too large for an
ordinary dwelling, too ugly for a palace, and of an
odd style of architecture, it doubtless excites among
the thousands who read ST. NICHOLAS great curi-
osity and much merriment. It is about this house
that I am going to tell you a little story, interesting
as an Arabian tale, but at the same time quite true.
In one of the immense bazars, so numerous in
Constantinople, there were, in the middle of the
last century, a Turkish tobacconist's shop and a
Greek bakery. The owners of the two establish-
ments, named respectively Ibrahim and Yorghi,
had contracted for each other a close friendship,
which was continued with equal sincerity by their
two sons, who bore the same names as their fathers.
The one a Mussulman, the other a Christian, these
two boys were always together, whether they were
playing or working; night alone could separate
them. But good things cannot last forever. Having
grown to be men, the two friends were obliged to
submit to a separation. Ibrahim left for Bagdad,
where he was to become page to the Pacha of the
province, whilst Yorghi remained at Constanti-
nople, where he finally succeeded his father in the
bakery. There he continually made new friends;
his weights were always correct, his measures exact,
his kindness was limitless, and his piety won the
admiration of everybody.
After a time he married, and when God gave
him children, he instructed them in the same prin-
ciples of honor and justice. Meanwhile he thought
constantly of his absent friend, for before separating
they had sworn an eternal friendship, promising
that he who would first attain riches and power
should remember the other and help him in every
way possible.
It was, therefore, a great surprise to his neigh-
bors, as well as for Yorghi himself, when he was
one day summoned by two officers to appear be-
fore the Grand Vizier. In those days such a sum-
mons usually meant some criminal accusation and
a speedy punishment; and, fearing some terrible
misfortune, Yorghi begged of the officers to explain
to him the cause of this summons.
"What is my crime?" said he to them. "I
have never harmed any one; all my neighbors can
testify to that."


But the officers answered that they knew noth-
ing, and that they only obeyed the Vizier's orders.
Yorghi was obliged to follow them, amid a throng
of neighbors, who bewailed his misfortunes while
cursing the relentless officers.
At last they reached the palace, and presented
themselves before the Grand Vizier. The latter
looked steadily at Yorghi, then, with a scarce re-
pressed sob, and with tears in his eyes, he said to
the poor baker, who had not yet raised his head:
Dost thou know me ?"
No," he replied.
"But thou hadst formerly an intimate friend
named Ibrahim,-is it not so ? "
At this name Yorghi raised his eyes, gazed for a
moment at the Vizier, and recognized his old friend.
It was indeed he; from page to the Pacha, he had
become Grand Vizier, by dint of integrity and
worth. He threw himself into Yorghi's arms, and
pressed him to his heart; then, after having em-
braced him a long time, to the great amazement of
the court, he ordered him to send for his wife and
children, that they might make the palace their
home.
For," said he, "`I make thee my banker. Now
thou shalt be rich, as thou hast always deserved
to be."
So we now behold our young tobacconist Prime
Minister, and our baker first banker of the empire,
a position in which he always displayed the same
trustworthiness as in the small affairs of his bakery,
and in which he continued until his death.
But you will say: "What has all this story to do
with our great house?" Very much, my friends;
this immense building, so ugly on the outside, but
decorated with Eastern splendor in the interior, was
one of the three palaces erected by our baker-
banker. This enormous building, built on the side
of a hill, is six stories high on one side, on the other
but three. The date, which can be seen on the
facade, is that of its completion. It is in Greek,
and means March 17, 1799. It is now worthily
employed by Prussian deaconesses as a young
ladies' school. Let us hope that it will long serve
as a memorial of the honesty and faithfulness of a
Turkish tobacconist, and of his friend the Greek
baker.


TRANSLATIONS of above story were received, previous to March 18, from Emma Clare Grafflin, A. S. M., Ivory Littlefield, H. P. Rosen-
bach, E. C. F., Madeleine Newhouse, Grant La Farge, Lucy Lee Batchelder, Daisy Lee, D. W. Lane, F. S. K., Minnie H Essetstyne,
Alfred G. Dent, Alice M. Williston, Anna L. Brown, John F. Harris, Mary L. Bullard, Ethel Willard, Bessie Whitney, Lilla Burbank, Lizzie
W. Wadsworth, William R. Billings, A. L. O. P., J. C. Clark, Marion Allman, Marion B. Keyes, Julia Bacon, W. G. Willcox, Florence P.
Spofford, Ella M. Tuttle, Lizzie S. K., "Maggie," K. E. Cobb, "Plymouth Rock," Ada F., Emmie C. Burridge, Kate F. Howland,
" Pierce," Julie Elizabeth Ballantine, Fanny Strong, Josie and Alice Morse, Minta C. Pleasants, "Jeanie," Harry Wigmore, Mary B. Albert,
Daniel H. Shipman, Marion Merrill, Sarah B. Balch, Ralph W. Rounds, Hattie M. Coe and Emmie T. Lane, Charles H. Payne, Fanny
M. Wade, Lilla M. Hallowell, Katherine De V. Scha'is, Mary E. McCoy, Kate G. Lamson, Mamie A. Johnson, and Alice Le FBvre.


442


[MAY,






QUEEN BLOSSOM.


QUEEN BLOSSOM.
(A May-Day Story.)

BY SUSAN COOLIDGE.


f iROMPTLY the bell
tinkled for noon
recess in the red
school-house, and
boys and girls
_\ came trooping out
----- into the sunshine,
Which was warm
as Summer that day. Nobody
staid behind except Miss Sparks,
Sthe teacher. She turned the
t damper in the stove to make it
warmer, and put on more wood;
then took a roll of bread and
Butter and a large pickled cu-
cumber out of her desk and sat
down to lunch, and to read
"Young's Night Thoughts,"
which somebody had told her
was an "improving" book. The
heat soon made her head ache,
and, "Night Thoughts" and
the cucumber aiding, the chil-
/ dren, had they only known it,
were in a fair way to pass an ex-
S tremely unpleasant afternoon.
Luckily they did not know it,
otherwise the pleasure of the
recess would have been spoiled,
which would have been a pity,
for the recess was very pleasant.
There was the sun for one thing;
and real, warm, yellow sun is a treat in April, not
always to be had. There were the woods, begin-
ning to be beautiful, although not a leaf-bud was
yet visible. Spring was awake, and busy at her
silent work, varnishing brown boughs to glossy
brightness; tinting shoots and twigs with pink and
yellow and soft red colors; arranging surprises
everywhere. The children could not have put into
words the feeling which made the day so delightful,
but all were aware of it, and each, in his or her
way, prepared to enjoy the hour. One tiny snow-
drift remained in a leaf-strewn hollow. The boys
found it out, and fell to snow-balling with the zest
of those who do not hope to see snow again for
many a long month. Big girls, with arms about
each other's waists, walked to and fro whispering
together. The smaller children cuddled irito a


sunny fence corner, and, like Wordsworth's village
maid,
Took their little porringers,
And ate their dinners there."

A group of girls, not so big as those, nor so little
as these, strolled off into the woods, talking as they
went.
"Now you just hush up, Winnie Boker," said
one. "It's no use, for we wont have her. She's
been Queen ever so many times, and now it's some-
body else's turn. There are other girls in town
besides Blossom, I guess."
"Oh yes, Marianne; it is n't that," broke in
Winnie, the words running out of her eager mouth
so fast that they tumbled over each other. It
is n't that at all. You'd make a first-rate Queen,
or so would Arabella or Eunice. But, don't you
see, Blossom always was Queen, and now she's
sick I 'm afraid she'd feel bad if we choose some-
body else."
Dear me, what nonsense!" exclaimed Ara-
bella, a tall girl in purple calico, with sharp black
eyes and a Roman nose. It was n't fair a bit,
Ma says, to have Blossom always. Ma says other
people have got rights too. You need n't be so
fiery about that stuck-up Blossom, Winnie."
Oh, I 'm not," began Winnie, peaceably,
"but -"
My father says that Blossom is the prettiest
girl in the whole township," broke in Charlie Starr
excitedly; "and it's real mean of you to call her
stuck-up. Don't you recollect how sweet she looked
last year in her white dress, and what a pretty
speech she made when George Thorne put the
crown on her head ? She never said unkind things
or called anybody names! She's always been
May-Queen, and I say it's a shame to leave her out
just because she's sick."
"You're a goose," responded Arabella. "Who
wants a sick Queen of the May ?' She 'll never be
well again, the doctor says; and as for her beauty,
that's gone for good. Ma declares that it's absurd
to call her Blossom any more. It is n't her real
name, only her Pa named her so when she was
little, because he was so proud of her looks. Her
real name's Sarah Jane, and I'm going to call her
Sarah Jane always. So there now, Charlotte Starr!"
You bad girl! cried Charlie, almost in tears.
How can you Poor dear Blossom!"






QUEEN BLOSSOM.


Stop quarreling," said Laura Riggs, "and
listen to my plan. Blossom can't be Queen, any-
how, don't you see, because she's too sick to come
to the celebration. So what's the use of fighting
about her?"
I thought we could go to her, and put on the
crown and all, and it would be such a surprise,"
ventured Winnie timidly. She'd be so pleased."
I suppose she would," sneered Arabella, "only,
you see, we don't mean to do it."
"I propose that we call all the boys and girls
together after school, and vote who shall be Queen,"
went on Laura. "Then to-morrow we can go a
flower-hunting, and have the wreath all ready for
next day. It's splendid that May-day comes on
Saturday this year."
I know who I shall vote for,-and I,-and I,"
cried the children.
Winnie and Charlotte did not join in the cry.
They moved a little way off, and looked sadly at
each other. To them, poor Blossom, sick and neg-
lected, seemed still the rightful Queen of the May.
I 've thought of a plan," whispered Charlie.
"What?"
But the answer was so softly spoken that nobody
but Winnie could hear.
Did I say nobody? I was wrong. Certain fine
ears which were listening heard all, question and
answer both. These ears belonged to a little he-
patica, who had stolen up very near the surface of
the ground to hearken, and with a tiny leaf-hand
curled behind her lilac ear, had caught every syl-
lable. Whatever the secret was, it pleased her, for
she clapped both hands and called out:
"Listen! listen Hepsy, Patty, Violet,-all of
you,-listen! "
"What is it-what?" cried the other flowers,
crowding near her.
"Didn't you hear what those two little girls
were saying,-Winnie and-what is her name-
Charlie? "
No, we heard nothing. We were listening to
the tiresome ones who quarreled. How horrid
children are!"
Go a flower-hunting indeed," tittered a blood-
root. They are welcome to hunt, but they will
find no flowers."
Indeed they wont. I 'd bite if they tried to
pick me," said a dog-tooth violet.
"Ach fancy their fingers at your stem," shud-
dered a pale wind-flower.
"How little they guessed that we were listening
to it all," laughed a white anemone.

Ring-a-ling, ring-a-ling,
We'll be as late as we can this Spring,"
sang a columbine.


We know when to go and when to stay; when
to open and when to shut," said a twin-flower.
Where is Mamma Spring?" inquired the dog-
tooth violet.
"On the other side the wood," replied the col-
umbine. "But she can't be interrupted just now.
She's very busy cutting out Dutchman's Breeches.
There are five hundred pairs to be finished before
night."
"All of the same everlasting old pattern,"
grumbled a trillium.
But listen; you don't listen," urged the lilac
hepatica. "All the children did n't quarrel. My
two-the two I liked-were gentle and sweet, and
they have a plan-a kind plan-about somebody
named Blossom. They want to give her a surprise
with flowers and a wreath, and make her Queen of
the May, because she is ill and lies in bed. Let us
help. I like them; and Blossom is a pretty name."
"Are you quite sure they did not quarrel?"
asked the wind-flower anxiously. It made me
shiver to hear the others."
No, they did n't quarrel. When the rest would
not listen, they moved away and made their little
plan in a whisper."
And what was the plan ? inquired the blood-
root.
Oh, they are wise little things. The others are
going to have a celebration' on Saturday, with a
great deal of pie and cake and fuss. I shall tell
Mamma Spring to order up an east wind and freeze
them well, little monsters But my two are com-
ing into the woods quietly to-morrow to search for
flowers. I heard Charlie tell Winnie that she knew
where the first May-flowers always come out, and
they would look there. We know too, don't we ?
in the hollow behind the beech-wood, on the south
bank."
"They're not there yet," said the columbine,
yawning.
No, but they're all packed and ready," said
the lilac hepatica. Do let us telegraph them to
start at once. I somehow feel as if I should like to
please Blossom too."
So the trillium, who was telegraph operator,
stooped down and dragged up a thread-like root,
fine as wire.
"What is the message ?" he asked.
"Be-in-flower-by-to-morrow-noon-for-
Charlie-and Winnie," dictated the hepatica.
" Precisely ten words."
"All right," responded the blood-root, with his
fingers on the wire. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap; the
message was sent, and presently came an answering
vibration.
All right. We are off." It was the reply of
the May-flowers.


444


[MAY,







QUEEN BLOSSOM.


What a fine thing is the telegraph," sighed a
sentimental sand-violet, while the hepatica rubbed
her little lilac palms gleefully, and exclaimed:
"I flatter myself that job is as good as done.
Hurrah for Queen Blossom "
The other girls did not notice Winnie and Char-
lie particularly next day as they stole from the rest
and crept away almost on tip-toe to the south bank,
where the arbutus might be in bloom. Drifted
leaves hid the bottom of the hollow. At first sight
there was no promise of flowers; but our little
maids were too wise to be discouraged. Carefully
they picked their way down, brushed aside the
brown leaves, and presently a shriek from both an-
nounced discovery.
"Oh, the darlings cried Winnie.
There they were, the prompt, punctual May-
flowers, so lately arrived that only half their leaves
were uncurled and the dust of travel still lay on
their tendrils. For all that, they were not too tired
to smile at the happy faces that bent over them
as the little girls lifted the leaf blankets and gently
drew them from their hiding-place. Pale buds
winked and brightened; the fuller flowers opened
wide pink eyes; all shook their ivory incense bottles
at once, and sent out sweet smells, which mixed
deliciously with the fragrance of fresh earth, of
moving sap, and sun-warmed mosses.
Should n't you think they had come out on
purpose ?" said Winnie, kissing one of the pinkest
clusters.
"We did! we did!" cried the May-flowers in
chorus. But the children did not understand the
flower-language, though the flowers knew well what
the children said. Flowers are very clever, you
see; much cleverer than little girls.
Winnie and Charlie hid their treasures in a tin
dinner-pail, pouring in a little water to keep them
fresh, and carefully shutting the lid. They did not
want to have their secret found out.
Going home, they met the others, looking some-
what disconsolate.
"Where have you been?" they cried. "We
looked everywhere for you."
Oh, in the woods," said Winnie, while Charlie
asked :
"Did you find any flowers? "
"Not one," cried Arabella, crossly; "the Spring
is so late; it's a shame. Carrie Briggs is chosen
Queen, and Miriam Gray is going to lend us some
paper flowers for the crown. They will do just as
well."
"Paper flowers!" began Charlie indignantly;
but Winnie checked her, and pretty soon their path
turned off from that of the others.
Come early to-morrow and help us make the
throne," called out Marianne.


"We can't; we've got something else to do,"
called back Charlie.
What?"
We 're going to see Blossom."
Oh, pshaw Do let that everlasting Sarah
Jane alone, and come and have a good time,"
screamed Arabella after them.
Winnie only laughed and shook her head. The
others went on.
Blossom lay in bed next morning. She always
lay in bed now, and it was pitiful to see what a pale
blossom she had become. Only a year before her
cheeks had been rosier, her limbs more active, than
those of any of the children who daily passed her
window on their way to school. One unlucky slip
on the ice had brought all this to end, and now the
doctor doubted if ever she could get up and be well
and strong as she used to be. The pretty name,
given in her days of babyhood, sounded sadly now
to the parents who watched her so anxiously; but
no name could be too sweet, her mother thought,
for the dear, patient child, who bore her pain so
brightly and rewarded all care and kindness with
such brave smiles. Blossom she was still, though
white and thin, and Blossom she would always be,
although she might never bloom again as once she
did, until set in the Lord's garden, where no frosts
come to hurt the flowers.
Happy May-Day," she said, as her mother
came in. I wonder what the girls are doing.
Winnie did n't come yesterday. I don't even know
who is to be Queen. Have you heard, mamma?"
I should n't think they'd want to have any
Queen on such a cold day as this," replied mamma.
" Look how the boughs are blowing in the wind.
It feels like March out doors."
"Oh, they're sure to want a Queen," said Blos-
som. "May-Day is such fun. I used to like it
better than any day in the year."
Somebody wants to spake to ye, ma'am, if
you pl'ase," said Norah, putting her head in at the
door.
"Very well. Blossom, dear, you don't mind
being left alone for a minute?"
Oh no, indeed. I've such a nice book here."
But Blossom did not open her book after mamma
went away, but lay looking out of the window to
where the elm-boughs were rocking in the wind.
Her face grew a little sad.
How nice it used to be," she said to herself.
Just then she heard a queer noise in the entry-
drumming, and something else which sounded like
music. Next, the door opened, and a procession
of two marched in. Charlie was the head of the
procession. She wore a pink-and-white calico, and
tied about her neck with a pink string, was Willie
Smith's drum, borrowed for the occasion. Winnie,


445







QUEEN BLOSSOM.


in her best blue gingham, brought up the rear, her
mouth full of harmonica. Winnie also carried a
flat basket, covered with a white napkin, and the
two girls kept step as they marched across the room
to Blossom's bedside, who lay regarding them with
eyes wide open from amazement.
Happy May-Day, Queen Blossom," sang Char-
lie, flourishing her drum-sticks.
Happy May-Day, Queen Blossom," chimed in
Winnie, taking the harmonica from her mouth.


And crown her sweetest, though she lies
In bed.
These flowers, dear Blossom, bloomed for you,
The fairest in the land;
Wear them,, and give your subjects leave to kiss
Your hand.

Charlie finished the verses with great gravity.
Then, drawing the May-wreath from the basket,
she put it on Blossom's head, after which, instead
of kissing the royal hand, according to programme,


.5, :4 4

r


1'


THE PROCESSION MARCHES IN.


"Happy May-Day," responded Blossom. "But
-how funny-what do you call me Queen Blossom
for? "
"Because you are Queen, and we have come to
crown you," replied Charlie. Then she laid down
the drum-sticks, lifted the white napkin, and in a
solemn tone began to repeat these verses, which
she and Winnie-with a little help from somebody,
I guess-had written the evening before.

Never mind who the others choose;
You are the Queen-for us;
They're welcome to their paper flowers
And fuss.
We bring our Queen a wreath of May,
And put it on her head,


she clapped both her own and began to dance about
the bed, exclaiming:
Wasn't that nice? Are n't they pretty? We
made them up ourselves-Winnie and I. Why,
Blossom, you're crying."
In fact, Queen Blossom was crying.
It was only a very little cry-just a drop or two,
with a rainbow to follow. In another minute Blos-
som had winked the tears away, and was smiling
brightly.
I did n't mean to cry," she exclaimed, only
I was so surprised. I thought you would all be
busy to-day, and nobody -would come. I never
dreamed that I should be made Queen of the May
again. How kind you are, dear Charlie and Win-


446


[MAY,


i--i i







QUEEN BLOSSOM.


nie, and where did you get the flowers-real May
flowers ? Nobody has begun to look for them
yet."
They came out on purpose for you," persisted
Charlie; and the May-buds smiled and nodded ap-
provingly as she said so.
Next, Winnie opened her basket, and behold, a
cake, with white icing, and in the middle a pink
thing meant for a crown, but looking more like a
cuttlefish, because of the icing's having melted
a little. Mrs. Boker had staid up late the night
before to bake and ice this May-Day loaf. She,
too, loved Blossom, and it pleased her that Winnie
should plan for the enjoyment of her sick friend.
A knife was brought, and slices cut. Blossom
lay on her pillows, nibbling daintily, as befits a
Queen. Her subjects, perched on the bed, ate with
the appetite of commoners. The sun struggled
out, and, in spite of East Wind, sent a broad yel-
low ray into the window. The May-wreath made
the air delicious; there could not have been found
a merrier party.
Please, dear Duchess, take off my crown for a
minute," said Blossom, with a pretty air of com-
mand.
The Duchess, otherwise Charlie, obeyed, and
laid the wreath on the coverlid just under the royal
nose.
How lovely, lovely, lovely it is," said Blossom,
with a long sigh of delight.
The sun is streaming exactly into your eyes,
dear," said her mother.
She opened the window to close the shutter. A
sharp, sudden gust of wind blew in, and mamma
pulled the sash down quickly lest Blossom should
be chilled. Nobody noticed that one of the May-
flowers, as if watching its chance, detached itself


from the wreath and flew out of window on the
back of the interloping wind. But it did.
The wind evidently knew what was expected of
it, for it bore the Mar-flower along to the woods,
and laid it on the brown earth in a certain sunny
spot. Then, like a horse released from rider, it
pranced away, while the flower, putting her pink
lips to the ground, called in a tiny voice:
Hepatica-Hepsy dear, are you there? "
"Yes; what is it?" came back an answering
voice, which sounded very near. It was the voice
of the lilac hepatica. She and her companions
were much nearer the surface than they had been
two days before.
It has all gone off so nicely," went on the May-
blossom. "We were there in time, and I must
say I never saw nicer children than that Winnie
and Charlie. They picked us so gently that it
scarcely hurt at all. As for Blossom, she's a little
dear. Her eyes loved us, and how tenderly she
handled our stems. I really wanted to stay with
her, only I had such a good chance to go, and I
thought you would all want to hear. It was the
nicest May-Day party I ever saw."
More-tell us more," said the underground
flowers.
* "There is no more to tell," replied the May-
flower faintly. It is cold out here, and I am
growing sleepy. Good-night."
After that there was silence in the woods.
Winnie and Charlie never knew how the dear
little flower-people had conspired to make their
May-Day happy. Perhaps Blossom guessed, for
when she laid aside her wreath that night she
kissed the soft petals, which had begun to droop a
little, and whispered gently:
Thank you, darlings."


" WELCOME! LITTLE STRANGER


-i.






FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS.


THE GIN-GER-BREAD BOY.

Now you shall hear a sto-ry that some-bod-y's great, great-grand-
moth-er told a lit-tle girl ev-er so ma-ny years a-go:
There was once a lit-tle old man and a lit-tie old wom-an, who lived
in a lit-tle old house in the edge of a wood. They would have been a
ver-y hap-py old coup-le but for one thing,-they had no lit-tle child, and
they wished for one ver-y much. One day, when the lit-tle old wom-an
was bak-irg gin-ger-bread, she cut a cake in the shape of a lit-tle boy,
and put it in-to the ov-en.
Pres-ent-ly, she went to the ov-en to see if it was baked. As soon as
the ov-en door was o-pened, the lit-tle gin-ger-bread boy jumped out, and
be-gan to run a-way as fast as he could go.
The lit-tle old wom-an called her hus-band, and they both ran aft-er
him. But they could not catch him. And soon the gin-ger-bread boy
came to a barn full of thresh-ers. He called out to them as he went by,
say-ing:
I've run a-way from a lit-tle old wom-an,
A lit-tle old man,
And I can run a-way from you, I can!"



-", -, -







Then the barn full of thresh-ers set out to run aft-er him. But, though
they ran fast, they could not catch him. And he ran on till he.came to
a field full of mow-ers. He called out to them:

I've run a-way from a lit-tle old wom-an,
A lit-tle old man,
A barn full of thresh-ers,
And I can run a-way from you, I can!"


[MAY,





FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS.


I 71



Then the mow-ers be-gan to run aft-er him, but they could n't catch
him. And he ran on till he came to a cow. He called out to her:


.1


" I 've run a-way from a lit-tle old wom-an,
A lit-tle old man,
A barn full of thresh-ers,
A field full of mow-ers,
And I can run a-way from you, I can!"


But, though the cow start-ed at once, she could n't catch him.
soon he came to a pig. He called out to the pig:


" I've run a-way from a lit-tle old wom-an,
A lit-tle old man,
A barn full of thresh-ers,
A field full of mow-ers,
A cow,-
And I can run a-way from you, I can!"

But the pig ran, and could n't catch him.
a-cross a fox, and to him he called out:


And he ran tl he



And he ran till he came


I've run a-way from a lit-tle old wom-an,
A lit-tle old man,
A barn full of thresh-ers,
S-.-_-A field full of mow-ers,
A cow and a pig,
And I can run a-way from you, I can!"

Then the fox set out to run. Now fox-es can run ver-y fast, and so
the fox soon caught the gin-ger-bread boy and be-gan to eat him up.
Pres-ent-ly the gin-ger-bread boy said: O dear I'm quar-ter gone !"
And then: "Oh, I'm half gone!" And soon: "I'm three-quar-ters
gone!" And at last: "I'm all gone!" and nev-er spoke a-gain.


And


449







JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


J AL IK-J N -TLHE U LPI T.


THIS is May, my children, but I 'm not at all
sure that she will give us Spring weather. The
months seem to have a curious way of swapping
weather with each other. March will borrow some
fine days from May, and then, when May comes
along, we find that she has taken some of March's
blustering winds in payment. By the way, the
pretty school-mistress wrote a very queer piece
about the months one day, just to amuse the chil-
dren, as they sat with her upon the willow-stumps
in my meadow. She called it an acrostic. I
could n't help learning it by heart, not because I
thought it pretty, nor because it was so queer, but
because each one of her little folks in turn insisted
upon reading it aloud. So you too shall have a
chance, my dears:
THE SAD STORY OF LITTLE JANE.
Jan-c, little saint, was sick and faint,
Feb-rifuge she had none;
Mar-malade seemed to make her worse,
Apr-icots were all gone.
May-be, she thought, in some fair field,
June-berries sweet may grow;
July-and June, they searched in vain,
Aug-menting all her woe.
Sept-imus failed to find a pill-
Oct-oroon slave was he;
Nov-ice, poor thing at feeling ill,
Dec-eased ere long was she.
CHARLES DICKENS AND THE BLIND CHILDREN.
TALKING of the pretty school-mistress, reminds
me of something I heard her telling her boys and
girls one day when they were seated about her, on
the willow-stumps as usual. She said:
Do you remember General S-t, my dears,
who once visited us in the school-rooms ?"
O yes cried the children.
Well, when he took tea with me on that after-
noon, he happened to say that his boy had just
been reading the Old Curiosity Shop' with great
delight.


Now, as I knew that the General's only son was
blind, I was not a little puzzled. Probably General
S- t read my feelings in my face, for he added:
Did you never hear of Charles Dickens' visit
to the blind asylum where Benny was taught ? He
talked with the children, and became so very much
interested in them, that he decided to have an
edition of The Old Curiosity Shop" printed in
raised letters for their use. Bless their hearts !
They shall find little Nell in the dark he said,
all aglow. And so, in time, my boy was bending
over the story, as happy a little fellow as one could
wish to see.'
Did he read it easily ?' I asked.
'0 yes, quite so !' said the General, cheer-
fully. 'The letters, white as the rest of the page,
are raised, and are about an eighth of an .inch long.
Benny runs his finger along the lines one by one,
and understands every word. You would think
he had eyes in his finger-tips. The sense of feel-
ing is very acute, you know, when one's sight is
gone.'"
I like Dickens more than ever now," said one
of the boys when the school-mistress finished her
story.
And so do I," said four of the children.

THOSE BRAZIL NUTS.
So many dear and clever little folks have sent
answers to my question in the March number of
ST. NICHOLAS about Brazil nuts, that I have asked
the editors to put their names and some of their
facts in the Letter-Box. Bless their hearts-I can
see them now, in my mind's eye, looking over
dusty books and encyclopedias! Here 's a note
from a little girl who did n't have to look in a book
at all:
Albion March 3, '75
Mr. Jack in The pulpit
I can tell you some thing abowt those Brazil nuts My uncle Jerry
has got a shell what they come in it looks like a Cocoanut only the
Brazil nuts are inside and rattle and that is the reason they don't have
any stem on them and pleas put me down as a Bird defender
NELLIE REYNOLDS.
QUEER EYES.
YOU have no idea what a good time your Jack
has in noticing eyes. May be the eyes have a
good time, too, in noticing your Jack; but that's
neither here nor there. I can't help being struck
with the capital seeing arrangement of the birds.
Why, bless you opera-glasses and telescopes are
nothing alongside of them, especially the high-
flying fellows. They can adjust their eyes just
about as they please. High in the air, they take
up a long style of vision, and, as they descend,
they haul in their eyes,-if I may use such an ex-
pression,-until they can see to pick a little grub
off the ground.
Flies' eyes are wonderful things; they can see in
every direction, but they never move. Snails, now,
have eyes of another sort. They carry them at the
ends of a pair of flexible horns, and while they are
crawling over a leaf they can send their eyes under
the edge of it to see what is going on there. I 'm
told that fishes have n't any eyelids. Is this so ?
The number of different kinds of eyes among


[MAY,







JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT


animals, fish, reptiles, and insects, will astonish you
if once you begin to look out for them.

JOY-BELLS.
My boys and girls, you are happier than kings
and queens !
There was once a prince, who, on ascending the
throne, had a bell raised in a tower over his palace,
which he intended to ring whenever he was per-
fectly happy.
The bell never rang during his lifetime.
If little children had joy-bells over their heads,
what wonderful chimes we should hear when the
first snow-flakes fall, or the first Spring flowers are
gathered.
EDDIE AND HIS TWIRL POETRY.
I KNOW of a wonderful little boy, hardly six
years old, who is going to be a poet one of these
days, that is if he has a fair chance to be a child
first. It would be dreadful if the gifts of his com-
ing years should be brought to him so soon as to
weight his childhood down and make him weary
and worn before his soul has a chance to grow. I
am glad to hear that he is a merry, free-hearted
little fellow now, fond of play and not so very very
good but that he can sometimes get into mischief.
Still, those who are nearest to him know that
strange thoughts flit through his baby brain, and
that his dreamy eyes often look far, far away,
whither no one may follow him. He goes to the
sea-side with his mother sometimes, and digs wells
in the sand like other youngsters, and runs about
her in great glee. Then he will grow sober, and
after a while he says:
Write, mother-write just what I tell you.
I'm going to make some Twirl poetry "
Here is something that he made in this way after
a few moonlight visits to the beach:
THE TWIRL POETRY.
0 moon! 0 moon 0 moon !
Throwing the light on the ground so holy-like,
And the stars twinkling so brightly and merrily,
As if it were Christmas,
Or a soft, witchy day when the witches charm their caldrons;
And the trees waving and shuddering in the court-yard,
And the lilies flowing on the brooks merrily and lovely,
And the pebbles glistening in the moonlight so merrily,
And the mountains with the flakes pouring on like pelts of rain-
Glistening, dropping, breaking,-
And the bears hiding with leaves and brush in their dens,
So dark and curious!
I never shall forget the moon i the moon the moon!
Shining so merrily on the sea,
On the boisterous sea,
And the waves dashing and breaking on the beach,
And moving about so gracefully,
And the rainbows in the night so striped and lovely.
I never shall forget the wrecks the wrecks! the wrecks?'
And the rocks spreading danger in the sea,
The waves trickling in and out the rocks,
And the breakers whirling, twirling,
As if a giant were stepping on the earth.and making it tremble,
And Jupiter throwing down all its riders out of heaven,
Thrashing up' the earth, and breaking thheavens wide.
"Sign it BY THE GREAT ARTIST, EDDIE, ESQ.,
Nov. 27, 1874,'-just those very words, mother," he
said when the verses were written, and then he ran
off to play.
Here is the second part of this Twirl poetry,


written two days afterward. You see he knows
nothing of rhyme yet, and his thoughts are made
up partly from what he observes himself, and
partly from what he hears read and spoken by
those about him:
THE TWIRL POETRY.-PART II.
And the water spurting,
And the whales diving in and out, and spouting water from their
nostrils,
And the moon shining so brightly on the water,
And the water mermaids combing their long hair,
Dragging and floating in the water,
And their shell combs glistening,
And the sword-fish cutting the water with their great swords,
And the trees blowing and falling with the great hurricanes,
And the lobsters sniffing the ground and spouting up,
And the little shells washing on the beach and off again with the
breakers,
And the pieces of board washing to shore off many wrecks
And the sea-weed washing on the beach,
And the frigates riding the waves and tossing about,
And yachts along the. coast sailing, sailing, sailing.
Should you like to hear some of Eddie's prose ?
Well, you shall have a story composed for his
grandmamma on Sept. o1, 1874, when he was ex-
actly five years and four months old. His mother
wrote down every word just as he dictated it:
THE RAGING ANACONDA OF THE DISMALLEST WOODS AS SOUTH
AMERICA BEARS IN ITS MIGHTY KINGDOM.
As the raging anaconda was sunning himself, one day, on the high
branches of a weeping-willow, he no sooner opened his eyes than lie
espied some lambs of a farmer's in a near field ; and no sooner he saw
them than he sprang down the tree. No sooner the farmer beholded
the "snek" than he teared after the "snek" three times round the
swamp, and then climbed up the tree to catch him by the tail, when
the anaconda turned and opened his mightyjaws and grabbed the
farmer's hat. Then the farmer climbed down as fast as anything
and ran away, and another anaconda and two wild boars came and
chased him till he got out of breath, and then he made a feast on the
old farmer.
HAVE FLIES AND GNATS NOSESP
OF course they have, if Jack knows anything
about it; that is, they have the sense of smell,
though whether they smell with their noses or not
is for my children to find out.
You just set a piece of meat in the sun and cover
it up so that no insect can see it, and you'll find
the shrewd little mites soon coming toward it from
every direction. They-smell it, or my name's not
Jack.
A HARD CASE.
Do you ever feel badly, my dears, because you
are sent to bed early? Do you beg to stay just a
minute longer, and do you seize upon every possible
excuse for lingering? Ah, well, there's a good
time coming; one of these days you '11 be big and
strong, and may go to bed when you please.
Hold! I don't positively promise that you shall
sit up as.late as you please when you grow big. It
depends upon circumstances and family rules.
For instance, the other day I heard the minister
telling a lad this very hard case:
"Dr. Johnson, in 1773, dined with the Earl of
Loudon, and met his mother, the Countess, who
was ninety-three. She had a daughter, Lady
Betty, who was seventy, and she used to send her
to bed early after supper, because, said she, Girls
must not use late hours.' "
How should you have liked to be poor Lady
Betty ?








[MAY,


THE LETTER-BOX.




THE LETTER-BOX.


Lewiston, Me., February 26, 1875.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I want to shake hands, and I must'fess a
little, too. When I first saw you, like so many silly people who have
"first impressions," I thought I should n't like you, but this Winter
I've been getting acquainted and bringing my little ones to know
you.
They were so delighted at the thought of writing some notes and
joining the Bird-defenders, that I hope you will pardon the trouble it
may make you.
O, that Jack-in-the-Pulpit I wonder if Mrs. Dodge hasn't been
a teacher, and she did n't feel sad when she used to see how little so
many mothers knew of their own children. God bless her and every
other woman who tries to be a teacher and helper of the children.
How I wish I could hear her talk right out of her heart; but the ST.
NICHOLAS lightens my work every time I take it up.-Yours most
truly, A. M. L.
The names of the scholars referred to in the above letter will be
found among the Bird-defenders. We are always glad to hear from
our young friends.

THE author of the "Gingerbread Boy," in our pages for Little
Folks, writes as follows: "The 'Gingerbread Boy' is not strictly
original. A servant girl from Maine told it to my children. It inter-
ested them so much that I thought it worth preserving. I asked
where she found it, and she said an old lady told it to her in her
childhood. So it may possibly have been in print, though I have
never seen it."

Norwich Town, Conn., Feb. 16, 1875.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Here is a puzzle which has been occupying
our attention of late. It was attributed to Rev. E. E. Hale, but he
denies having written it, and we are in doubt as to its authorship and
as to the correct solution. Several answers have been suggested,
among them "Axe," in connection with Charles 1. and Cromwell.
But we should be glad of a better one.-Yours truly, E. S. G.
ENIGMA.
To five and five
And fifty-five,
The first of letters add;
'T will make a thing
That killed a king
And drove a wise man mad.

CLARENCE DELLAM asks "if any of the ST. NICHOLAS subscribers
can tell him how to crystallize flowers, and give him the recipe for
making skeleton leaves." Who will answer?

Dayton, 0., February 27, 1875.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I cannot tell how delighted I am with your
magazine. I liked the Young Folks very much, but yours beats it
altogether. But one thing I noticed was that the Young folks al-
lowed the boys and girls to contribute music. Now I should like to
know whether you would allow the boys and girls of the ST. NICHOLAS
to do the same.-Very respectfully, WILLIE WALTER.


in mythology celebrated for his friendship; second arch, or bridge,
is a simpleton, which we often think we are ourselves when we fail to
pass through the first bridge. Third move, or rather play, is always
in darkness. tirst R s A is docile. Fourth play is an insane per-
son; c A is what our country is now suffering from the effects of.
Fifth move is not wide; second R s A is a condition in which a player
sometimes finds his ball. Sixth play is a farming implement; the third
A is a musician. Seventh play is what this game is composed of:
the fourth A is a penurious man. The eighth play is what some of
our puzzlers try to be among their fellow-workers who contribute to
the ST. NICHOLAS. T S is the summit, or top, just as it should be.
Returning.
Please observe that, in passing through the central bridges again,
as we have to do, it will be unnecessary to define those arches, or
bridges, which we have already passed through.
First return play are animals known to us as little pests. Second
play is a leather band, pierced with holes and provided with a buckle.
Third move is to shine, as we need a little light to see our way farther
on. First L S A is soup. Fourth move is a boy's name. Fifth move
is a plant. Second L s A is an English title. Sixth move is an idea.
Seventh move is a wanderer. Eighth play is nocturnal winged ani-
mals, which fly with us to the home stake and thus finish the game.
HYPERION."

The above game of croquet is quite difficult; but, before printing
the solution, we should like to see if any of our young readers can
find out the words, and send us a diagram of the game as played by
themselves.

HRIE's a complaint from a boy: "There has been so much said
in readers and magazines about girls being teased and annoyed by
boys, especially their older brothers, I think it is time the other side
was heard from. Don't you think it's mean the way some girls have
of teasing and plaguing tie boys? I think it's all the meaner be-
cause the girls know the boys can't hit them or do anything in
return."

Calera, Ala., February 24, x875.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: What do you mean by us Bird-defenders
going to have a "grand campaign?" Please write to me and tell
me. I do not go to school down here, because I have no place to go
to, but I go to school to mamma. If any of the girls and boys that
read the ST. NICHOLAS look on a railroad map and on the map of
Alabama, they will find a railroad called the Selma, Rome, and Dalton
Railroad, and if you look sharp you will see a town called Calera,
and one mile above there, on the Selma, Rome, and Dalton Railroad,
I live, about four or five hundred yards from the railroad, on a hill,
and in a real pretty place. I have two dogs, a horse and colt, and a
cat. Robbie, my brother, also has a horse anda colt. We have good
times, too, in the Summer. We go hunting rabbits, and go fishing,
and go in swimming, camp out, build boats, and go grape-hunting,
and have nice times. There are deer here too. One day the hunters
were hunting deer, and they started up one and shot him in the leg,
and the deer ran on two-I mean three-legs, and jumped over our
fence into our yard and out again, on three legs. We miss skating
here though. I must close.-From C. B. DARE.


In answer to Willie's request, we must tell him that our space is
very valuable, and that in the interest of the majority of our readers P. G., St. Louis.-The next time you send us a poem, we would
we prefer to print music very seldom, prefer to have it original, and of a better class of poetry.


A PECULIAR GAME OF CROQUET, PLAYED WITH WORDS AND
SKILL OF BRAIN, NOT WITH MIALLET AND BALL.
Explanation.
The arch in center of field is c A; the four other central arches
will be respectively named first, second, third, and fourth. The first
arch, or bridge, on the left-hand side will be designated by L s A I,
and the second in like manner, and the arches on the right-hand side
in a similar manner. We are supposed to stand at the foot, and are
looking down the field toward the head, or turning stake, H s, or
the foot of the field, is the home stake, or place whence we start T s
is turning stake. The words by which we pass through the first
and second arches, and second and third, must be reversible, so that
we can return on the same word and thus preserve the symmetry of
the entire arrangement. The stakes, and also the words, with which
we commence the game must be reversible,
Commencement of the Game.
The H s is a dark place. First move is to pierce; first arch, or
bridge, is what this game pretends to be. Second move is a character


A CORRESPONDENT sends our boys and girls the following account
of a monkey show :
One evening while we were in Berlin, we went to the monkey
theater. The entertainment opened with a piece called "The
Waiter," and served to show what skillful waiters monkeys could
be. A lady monkey and a gentleman monkey sat at a table. They
were waited on by two other monkeys gayly dressed, one as a boy,
the other as a girl. A very dignified elderly monkey acted the part
of head waiter. They performed their parts extremely well, the at-
tendants bringing what was called for with great alacrity. A chair
was placed close to the table, on which they sprang up and placed
the food, wine, nuts, etc., before the guests. The boy monkey
seemed to be an adept in drinking on the sly, for when he was sent
for a fresh supply of wine he managed to help himself freely to the
contents of the bottle while his master's back was turned. This piece
was followed by others equally amusing. There was an elephant
that danced about the stage and bowed very gracefully to the audi-
ence, also a white goat, that ascended a pyramid and danced on the
top, and descended amidst great applause. After that there was a


452








THE LETTER-BOX.


race, in which the monkeys proved themselves such excellent jockeys
that we thought they were tied on the horses, until the man ordered
them to jump off, which they did at a bound and as quickly resumed
their seats and rode round, if possible more rapidly than at first, looking
toward the audience with a very triumphant air, as much as to say,
"We will show you what we can do." Then came the trained dogs;
some dressed like girls, some like boys. They danced, .but not very
joyously. One poor white dog that was dressed up in crinoline
seemed to get very tired waltzing. When she was going off the stage
she did not bow very gracefully, and wanted to get down on all fours,
but the manager would not let her go. As punishment, she was com-
pelled to waltz all around 1i- i..: .. and then she made a very
graceful bow-graceful for a j i '.. performance closed with the
storming of the walls of a city and of a citadel. The walls had the ap-
pearance of great strength, but when the army of dogs attacked them
they soon gave way, although they were vigorously defended by dogs
inside. There was wonderful barking and howling, but the flames
soon burst forth, the walls fell down, the dogs scampered off, and the
funny entertainment was at an end.

THERE was a slight mistake in the article, "A Training School for
Sailors," in our March number. The words "Don't give up the
ship originated with Commodore Lawrence, but the flag on which
they were inscribed was used by Commodore Perry.

Albany Road, October zg, iS74.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I send you three names for the Bird-
defender army-Albert Rundells, Charlie Heller, and Carrie Heller.
I would like to tell you a story about four little chickens. Their
mother died the day they were hatched. I took them into the house,
and put them in a basket with cotton in; then I fed them, and they
ate real well. Then I took them out in the garden for a little while
and watched them. Then I took them into the house and covered
them up and put them by the fire, and they went to sleep. Every
night, when they thought it was time to go to bed, they would get
up in somebody's lap; and I used to put them in their basket and
cover them up. I called one Fanny, one Nanny, one Mischief, and
one Gypsy. Mischief was killed by a dog that came here; the rest
are alive and quite large. Fanny turned out a rooster, so I called
him Frank. Every night they come and get up on the window-sill,
and I put them to bed. Frank is black and golden brown; Nanny
is dark brown; and Gypsyis black. Mischiefwas black and white.-
Yours truly, CARRIE R. HELLER.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl, four years old. I have a
brother, Dewitt. He takes the ST. NICHOLAS, but I do not. I like
some of the stories very much. The one about little Bertie and the
birds was so nice. I liked it because she has my name. I like some
of the letters in the back, too, very much. BERTIE CRANE.

HERE is a letter from a little girl in Turkey. With the letter came
a package of curious bread, pretty hard and quite stale, but it gave a
good idea of the kind of bread the Turks eat. It was thin, like a
buckwheat cake. There is a missionary paper published at Erzroom,
called Whiffs from Ararat, and "Addie," the editor informs us, sets
up most of the type for the paper, which, however, is a very small one:
Erzroom, Turkey, January 2o, 1875.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little missionary girl, almost eleven
years old. I like you very much, and my little two-year-old sister
Belle (she calls me Sitty Addie ") likes you too, only she thinks you
don't put in ponies enough. When you made your first visit to me
you took me by surprise, for my papa had not told me that he had
invited you. I think, if you had eyes to see, you would be very
much surprised, because everything in Turkey is so queer. But, as
you have n't, I will tell you something about it. You don't see any-
body here with hats on. Men wear a funny red cap called a fez, and
boys wear them too. Women tie their heads up,in handkerchiefs,
and when they go out-doors they put on a large white cloth all over
them called an azeam. They have very funny bread. I will send
you some, so you can see what it is. I will write again and tell you
more. These things do not seem strange to me, because I was born
here. I send you our little paper. These sheets of bread are nearly
a yard long and half a yard wide.-Your far-off friend,
ADDIE PARMELEE.

THE following is a description of the Brazil nut, about which
"Jack" inquired in the March number. Very good descriptions have
been received from Tracy Lyon, Lincoln Righter, Ida A. Wcndell,
May B. Roys, Fanny Brady, Katie F. Gibson, "St. Nic.," and Alice
Hurd:
THE BRAZIL JUVIA, CASTANIA, OR PARA NUT.
The tree sometimes reaches one hundred and twenty feet, attaining
a diameter of four feet, and frequently rises one hundred feet before
putting forth a branch. The nuts are not borne singly, but are
packed with remarkable exactness, from twelve to twenty, in a hard,


ligneous capsule, which is nearly round in shape, although inclined
to pear-shape. When ripe, this pod is so heavy that it is dangerous
to pass under the trees, even for Indians. Monkeys are so fond of
these nuts that they hammer patiently on the capsule to obtain them.
They watch for the fall of a pod with great eagerness, and should the
capsule (or case) burst it is the signal for a scramble, the lively
sentinels of a hundred lofty branches swinging themselves from bough
to bough by means of their long tails to reach the precious nuts.
The Indians make use of the imitative monkeys to gather this Cas-
tania crop by pelting the animals with stones, who in turn hurl the
capsules down at the human antagonists. On the river Aripecuri, a
branch of the Amazon, a large number of the Indian Castanheiros
ascend the stream to gather the harvest, upon which they depend for
the year's subsistence. The nuts frequently constitute the sole cargo
of vessels of considerable burden. Fifty thousand bushels are annu-
ally exported to England. The Para nut is the most wholesome of
hard-shelled fruits, and contains a fine sweet oil, often expressed for
the use of watchmakers and artists in oil colors.

Washington, D. C., February 28, 1875.
DEAR MR. SCRIBNER: Please put this piece in the ST. NICHOLAS.
It is the first I ever wrote. I am just seven years old. I did as well
as I could. WALTER CLEPHANE.
Little baby lies on his bed,
Laying down his little head.
He likes to see papa,
And talks to mamma.
A baby is sweet;
I love him indeed.
He smiles when I talk;
I wish he could walk !
He rings his bell,
And I love him well.

BIRD DEFENDERS.
Some of our late readers have not seen the earlier numbers of the
magazine, and, therefore, do not understand all this talk about the
army of Bird-defenders. As we have received several letters asking
for information, we here print an extract from the original resolutions,
which will explain the purpose and aims of the army. The grand
muster-roll will appear next month. We will also state that Mr.
Haskins will probably have something to say to the army in the June
number. Meantime we hope to receive a great many new names.
The extract is as follows: "Resolved, that we severally pledge
ourselves to abstain from all such practices as shall tend to the de-
struction of wild birds; that we will use our best endeavors to induce
others to do likewise, and that we will advocate the rights of birds at
all proper times."
Of the lists received this month, the following from Clinton B.
Poe, of New York, takes the lead: Louis P. Sledge, Frank Thayer,
Harry Samson, William Jackson, Alfred Mestry, Edward Wells, Fred
Lane, Nat. Lane, Ed. Palmer, Harry Wood, Will Chase, Will Perry,
Harry Brower, John Brower, Charles Bogert, Sam Bell, Joseph Bell,
David Bell, Will Gorden, Fred Norton, Gus Wells, Jamsie Cohen,
Angus McKenzie, Malcolm McKenzie, Spencer McKenzie, Hetty
Seixers, Emma Scott, Susan Huntoon. Lizzie Gregory, Winnie
Gregory, Nettie Gregory, Aggie Scott, Lizzie Scott, Minnie Samson,
Flora Scott, Pauline Unger, Mildred McKibbin, Jane Clooney, Kate
Clooney, Mary Bannen, Carrie McGinnis, Georgiana Armond, Susie
O'Brien, Cynthia Wells, Lottie Kip, Pussy Keyes, Grace Cabot,
Winnie Norton, Susy White, Etta Palmer, Gracie Howard.
Then comes this list from Eulalie Guthrie, of Dawn, Ohio:
Gertrude Burtch, Minnie De Rush, Flora De Rush, Mabel Boes,
Kate John, Carrie John, Ella John, Dolly Rush, Lilly John, Sarah
Coppess, Sydney Miller, Sarah Miller, Nettle Boes, Ellen Johnson,
Mary A. Johnson, Mary A. Coppess, Ella Stephens, Dora McFar-
land, William Sheffel, Solomon Sheffel, Alonzo Boes, John Deming,
Willie Deming, John Brown, Samuel Brown, William Brown, James
Brown, John McKahn, Charlie Coppess, Otwell McCowan, William
McCowan, Elmer Collins, Bowen John, William John, David Reigle,
Isaac Stephens, Milton John, Samuel Morrison.
Miss Annie MI. Libby, of Lewiston, Me., sends the following names
with a letter, which will be found in another column: John Carter
Baker, George Henry Packard, Arthur Howard Dingley, Joseph
Bixby Lesner, Johnny Lanagan, Albert Nye Cleveland, James
Everett Small, Frank Albert Huntington, Joseph Henry Cheetham,
Arthur Brown Towle, George Wood, Wesley Miller, George Emmet
Lynch, Nealy Clifford, L. E. Elder, Patsy Lahey, Emma Watson


453






THE RIDDLE-BOX.


Litchfield, Abba Ardell Washburn, Luella Robbins, Effie May Pratt,
Rosa-D. Nealy, Belle Manning Baker, Winifred E. Nason, Emma
Frances Cobb, Hattie May Whitney, and Lizzie T. Sargent.
Next we have a list from Eddie H. Eckel, of Wilmington, Del.,
already a Bird-defender: Lewis Hilles, Davis Grubb, D: W.
Jordan, G. B. Hittinger, C. H. Hittinger, Edwin Cooling, Paul
Birnie, W. M. Barrelle, Norrie Robinson, L. F. Eckel, George R.
Groff, Zachary T. Guthrie, Edwin S. Farm, Robert E. Sayers, Eddie
Canby, J. B. Grubb, Walter L. Butler, Eddie A. Ryon, Richard W.
Gilpin, Willie S. Mitchell, Cyrus P. Enos, Willie Beggs, James Hile,
David P. Michncr, N. Dushane Cloward, and John J. Britt.
Florence P. Spofford sends the following list: Helen Nicolay,
Lizzie M. Junken, Emily Snowden, Flora Freyhold, Mattie W.
Garges, Annie Beers, Blanche Jordan, Emma Stewart, Laura Sey-
mour, Susie Hartwell, Florence P. Spofford, R. A. Ware, John F.
Clark, Dan'l Clark, Charles-S. Jones, and Harry Morton.
Katy E. Gilligan sends a list: Sydney D. Gilligan, Josie D. Gilli-
gan, Romolo Balcazer, Constance M. Burke, Nellie Gilligan, John
D. Stephens, Robert M. Stephens, Minnie W. Stephens, Norma L.
Freeman, Ada G. Marsh, Emily B. Giroff Belle McKeage, Lillie
Coward, and Katy E. Gilligan.
Sidney M. Prince sends the following names: Nelson Bodine,
Jennie Bodine, Mattie Lester, Mary Lester. Garra Lester, George G.
Prince, Cora L. Frink, George L. Dancer, Clelie L. Dancer, Eugene
Dancer, Jason S. Dancer, and Alvin Dancer.
Emily T. Carow sends her own and the following names: Kitty
Waldo, Carrie Sutton, Genie Dart, Susy Kunhardt, Madline Smith,
Kitty C. Pratt, Corinna Smith, Edith Marshall, Alice Towle, Addie
Close, Annie Close, and Laura Agnew.
Charles H. Mathewson sends this list: Edwin L. Mathewson,
Charles B. Tyler, S. Mason Tyler, Charles Mason, Howard Budlong,
William Barbour, and Irving Hicks.
C. Burton Jones sends a few names besides his own: George N.
Thompson, Jennie A. Chidsey, Ida S. Woodruff, Belle A. Wood-
ruff, John R. Crawley, Bertha J. Woodruff, Horace L. Judd, and
Charlie C. Judd.
Sadie D. Morrison joins, and sends other names as follows: Annie
Brace, Mary A. Flanner, Mary Gardner, Emma B. Harnood, Emma
J. Hubble, Mary E. Kaneen, and Nellie Underwood.


Fannie R. Rose sends a list as follows: Kittle A. Comstock, Belle
Northrop, Fannie R. Rose, Nellie A. Knowles, Chickie M. Bull, and
Julia S. Savage.
Dolly W. Kirk also sends a list: Maggie Prieto, Josephine Prieto,
Mhdeline Prieto, Margaret Sharp, and Irene Givens.
Hannah J. Powell sends this list: Annie E. Eaton, George E.
Eaton, StewartEaton, Maud Eaton, Mattie Eaton, and George J.
Powell.
Charlie Balestier sends his own name and those of Carrie Balestier,
Josephine Balestier, Beatty Balestier, and Bella Hartz.
Delia M. Conkling joins with the following friends: Alice E.
Palmer, Francine M. Yale, Natalie B. Conkling, Ollie H. Palmer.
Willie H. Patten joins, and sends a few other names: May Eliza-
beth Patten, Jessie Allen, and Emma Vandusen.
Other names have been received, as follows: George De Lorenzo
Burton, Effie Thompson, Charles R. Baldwin, Belle Baldwin, Ella
G. McSwaly, Willie H. McSwaly, Johnny Flagg, Annie Louise
Wright, Winnie Louise Bryant, Mac Moorhead, Attie E. Campbell,
J. B. Parmelee, Lolie C. Hoy, Arthur I Clymer, Nathaniel Haven,
Daisy Haven, Charles B Davis, Richard H. Davis, Freddie H.
Shelton, Lulu Conrad, Fred B. Nickerson, Will'e B. Nickerson,
Edward L. Anderson, Grace Nunemacher, J. Chase, Florence Bal-
lantine, Eddie L. Heydecker, Zuilee Hubbard, Katy E. Gilligan,
Mamie A. Johnson, Katie S. West, Susie H. West, Fred N. West,
Mabel Williston, Emily Williston, Constance B. Williston, Alice M.
Williston, Willie Sherwood, and Nellie Reynolds.

OUR correspondents must remember that the numbers of ST. NICH-
OLAS are prepared for the press about two months previous to their
date. Consequently, all matter for the Letter-Box (which is one of
the latest departments prepared) should be in our hands at least two
months before the first day of the month for which the magazine is
published. Thus, communications for the July Letter-Box should
reach us by the first of May.
Names and short items sent after that date may possibly be inserted,
but it is not safe to wait.
Many very kind letters have lately been received to which it is im-
possible to reply in this department or otherwise, but the writers may
feel sure that their generous expressions are fully appreciated.


THE RIDDLE-BOX.


ENIGMA.
I AM composed of six letters. My 2, 3 and my 5, 6
are both prepositions. My 6, 5, my 3, 2, and my I, 2
are often used as interjections. My 4, 5 is a verb. My
5, I, 4 characterizes Metheusalah. My whole is a city
in Europe. J. c. M.

REBUS, No. 1.













BEHEADED BLANKS.
A PRIEST throws down a silver-
The future destiny to -
Of a couple in his church;
When lo a private quarrel--
Between the pair, about their -
And leaves him in the lurch B.


TRANSPOSITIONS.
FILL the blanks with the same word used in another
sense. I. The under the floor are of more use to a
church than the in the seats. 2. I saw the -- of
Tartary riding upon a from South America. 3. A
-- came down my chimney and took a from my
pitcher. 4. I wonder if our
fossil are as old as the
that vexed the Jews. 5.
i, Iheard them discussing-
th0 at the counter, -
W f I! I that betrayed anger. B.


B


HIDDEN SQUARE.
HE arrived at Omaha in
due time. There is not a
person present who knows
it. Stop a little before you
proceed. Do you like
smelts ? G. E. M.


DIAMOND PUZZLE.
MY first is a consonant. My second is a piece of
wood. My third is one of the books of the Old Testa-
ment. My fourth is a confection. My fifth is an
American poetess. My sixth is a town in New York
State. My seventh is to coincide. My eighth is before.
My ninth is a consonant. FAN FAN.


[MAY,


f$


I I






THE RIDDLE-BOX.


ELLIPSES.
I. I SAID "- to those -. 2. I saw some
- with a on their collar. 3. You have the right
- but not the right 4. I should not to
-- in that town. 5. He has no and his ears are
an too long. 6. I bought some of' the -
grocer. 7. those ends, and I will them
again. 8. The implies authority to sin. 9.
We have a-- lamb. o1. I have-- it--!
II. That mutton is raw; it will-- on the -- 12.
The reign of was one of the in Egyptian
history. 13. When the wind blows how that does
R.


455


where a (village in W. part of Putnam Co., N. Y.) was
conveniently at hand, and luxuriant vines waved over-
head. A fallen tree, overgrown with (a sea-port town of
Norway, 32 miles S. of Christiana), made a comfortable
seat, and here they passed the afternoon so pleasantly
that the youth did not notice that the daylight had (the
past tense of a county in N. E. Penna.), and that it was
growing (a county in W. Ohio). The lady sneezed (a
river in W. Tenn. which runs into the Mississippi), re-
marked that the (sea-port town of Scotland, S. S. W. of
Glasgow) was becoming (a republic of S. America, on
the Pacific Ocean), and proposed that they should re-
turn. The gentleman had unearthed a piece of (a county


REBUS, No. 2.


S-^ --,

-.
S-^ -c ,


4<^^


CHARADE.
MY first, it is strong,
It is deep, it is long;
What it holds a sailor best knows.
My second is good
For animals' food,
And in various latitudes grows.
My whole is quite sweet,
And considered a treat
By little folks everywhere.
Go search through the town
For its shining brown !
If you find, do give me a share !
A. O'N.
A GEOGRAPHICAL ROMANCE.
A YOUNG man, named (a county in the S. part of
Illinois, on the Mississippi River; a town in Bristol Co.,
R. I.), a (county in N. E. Indiana) youth; was a dealer
in (a county in S. E. Alabama), who dwelt in one of our
cities famous for its (town in Tunica Co., Miss). Yet,
though possessed of wealth, he was not content; some-
thing was still wanting to complete his felicity, and that
was a blissful (county in the W. central part of Ohio)
by marriage with a certain lady named (a county in S.
middle part of Va.), whose (city in Cayuga Co., N. Y.)
locks had captivated him. One fine day, he invited her
to accompany him in a ramble over the hills, and she,
being a good (county in N. W. Georgia and town in S.
part of Chatauqua Co., N. Y.), consented; and they set
out, with his dog following. And that animal, in his joy
at his (town in N. E. part of Cattaraugus Co., N. Y.),
seemed to be trying to turn (the plural of a town in
N. E. part of Niagara Co., N. Y.), to show his happi-
ness. About half-way up one of the hills, they sat down
in a dell shaded by a (town in Burlington Co., N. J.),


in S. E. Miss.) with his (county in N. E. Ill.), and by
some hard (county in central Ohio) against a rock, broke
off a piece of it, which he gave to the lady as a memento.
She presented him in return with a branch of (a county
in S. E. Kentucky). The dog, having fallen asleep,
with his head on the gentleman's hat, heedless of the
(plural of a county in S. E. center of Mo.) he might
make thereby, was now awakened; and with the light
of the (island of Russia in the Baltic) to guide them,
while the (county in N. W. center of Penna.) of a distant
(county in central part of Texas) warned them of the
lateness of the hour, they wended their way homeward.
At a point where the path turned to the (county toward
S: part of Mo.), they stopped a moment to (a mountain
in N. W. part of Ga.) at the lovely valley, and village
with its twinkling lights. Finally, when they reached
the door of the house where the lady resided, they stood
talking in the moonlight, and the youth, resolved to win
her if possible, pressed his suit, and said: Is there no
(town in Warren Co., N. J.) for me ? But she sadly
replied: (A village in Edgar Co., Ill., E. of Spring-
field), you must see that I do not reciprocate your love.
Oh (a river of England, flowing into the Severn near
Chepstow) did you ask ? But if we must part, let it be
in (a post township of Aroostook Co., Me.), and without
heart- (a city of France, 17 miles S. of Marseilles)."
Ma. c.
EASY PUZZLE.
TAKE one hundred and one,
And to it affix
The half of a dozen,
Or, if you please, six.
Put fifty to this,
And then you will see
What every good child
To all others should be. A. E.


VW NE/

... \-----E

sw s






11111


@7(JidS Zltei


I,


f41TItI


i .I! .- I~-

:II ''







THE RIDDLE-BOX.


CHARADE.


[MAY.


DOUBLE ACROSTIC.


MY first, to shield himself from my third, wears THE initials and finals form a flower. I. A looking-
my second. My whole is an island of the United glass. 2. A boy's name. 3. An Egyptian deity. 4. To
States. RUTHVEN. divide. IDA.


REBUS, No. 3.


" -I-I-i-

_ S~

4 F


SQUARE RIVERS.
A RIVER in Utah. A river in Spain. A river in
Italy. A river in Minnesota. ST. N.


DECAPITATIONS.

BEHEAD a city; get a disease.
Behead a river; get part of the
body. Behead a plan; get an
animal. Behead a river; get sev-
S1I ered. Behead a color; get a use-
ful article in a house. NIP.


PYRAMID.

<-040 THE left slope is a timepiece.
The central is an injury. The
right slope is a people of Europe.
S The cross-words are: I. A con-
sonant. 2. A verb. 3. To turn.
V 4. Angles. 5. A will. R. M.


PUZZLE.
UNTO a certain numeral one letter join-sad fate!
What first was solitary, you will annihilate. A. B


ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN APRIL NUMBER


ENIGMA.-" When Greek meets Greek." (Easy, because it con-
tains no vowel but e.)
HIDDEN LAKES.-I. Erie. 2. Wener. 3. Pepin. 4. Earn. 5. Itasca.
QUADRUPLE ACROSTIC.-Lias, Sail. Leer, Reel.
L-iverpoo-L
I- rene -E
A-nemon-E
S-hovele -R
PUZZLE.-I. Coleridge (G recoiled). 2. Chatterton (T chatter
on). 3. Whittier (H wittier).
DOUBLE ACROSTIC.-Portia, Hamlet
P-eac-H
0-nor-A
R- oa-M
T- el -L
I- dl -E
A- n -T
REBUS, No. I.-"Men whose heads do grow beneath their shoul-
ders."
GEOGRAPHICAL DOUBLE ACROSTIc.-Venice, Athens.
V- irgini -A
E- gyp -T
N- orwic -H
I sl -E
C-aribbea-N
E-uphrate--S
LINEADUCTIONS.-t. Stale, State. 2. Fell, Felt. 3. Will, Wilt.
SQUARE WORD.- POESY
OVATE
EARE D
STEED
YEDDO


DIAMOND PUZZLE.- D
MSAP
MI NUS
MILDRED
DANDELION
PURLING
SEINE
DOG
N
GEOGRAPHICAL CHARADE.-Amsterdam.
REVERSALS.- I. Gulp, Plug. 2. Dine, Enid. 3. Rats, Star.
4. Are, Era. 5. Live, Evil. 6. Pins, Snip. 7. Nuts, Stun.
THE TEA-PARTY.-Carrie, Fred, Cake, Tarts, Candy, Nuts,
Party, Seven, Sleep, Dreams.
TRANSPOSITIONS.-i. Allowable, All below a. 2. Exhibition, No
I exhibit. 3. Parted, Depart. 4. Modellers, Mere dolls- 5. Dis-
perse, Presides.
REBUS, No. 2.-" Is it a dagger that I see before me ? "
CHARADE.-Wake-robin (Trillium).
EASY METAGRAMS.-Mold, Gold, Cold, Bold, Fold, Hold, Old, L.
GEOGRAPHICAL DIAMOND PUZZLE.
B
B O N
AL LER
BOLIVIA
HAVE
A I X
A
CENTRAL PUZZLE.-St. Nicholas. i. CaSte. 2. AlTar. 3.
CaNoe. 4. Alias. 5. MaCaw. 6. OcHre. 7. OvOid. 8. PaLsy.
9. PiAno. o1. ReSin.
BEHEADED RHYMES.-Clink, Link, Ink, Chair, Hair, Air.


ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE MARCH NUMBER were received, previous to March 18, from Eddie H. Eckel, John S. Rogers, James
P. Sullivan, Patsey Boliver, Minnie Emory and Mollie Stark, B. Sewall, Lulu Paine, Lolie C. Hoy, E. S. Gregory, "Cock-Robin," "Jenny
Wren," Laure C. Marcellus, Lottie E. Frost, Louie Frost, G. C. Mosher, Bessie H. Van Cleef, Annie E. Thayer, Charlie Balestier, Fanny
Cushing, Arnold Guyot Cameron, Frank S. Halsey, L. B. Coggeshall, Frank Belknap, Beamy Johnson, Harry C. Powers, Jessie Barnes,
William M. Jones, Clinton B. Poe, J. Wade McGowin, Rachel Hutchins, Johnny Flagg, Frank H. Belknap, W. H. Rowe, Mary Lucia
Hubbard, Jessie R. Sharp, Willie H. Patten, Frederic B. Studwell, Charlie E. Maxfield, Hannah Taylor, James J. Ormsbee, Annie Louise
Wright, Gertrude C. Eager, Winnie Louise Bryant, Ellen G. Hodges, Hattie H. Jones, May Ogden, Mary E. Goodwin, George S. Smith,
" Agnes Wickfield" and Betsy Trotwood," Willie Boucher Jones, Clara Lee, Lulie M. French, Julia Bacon, Clara Hurd, H. B. Nichols,
Attie E. Campbell, Jennings Brajan, John L. Woolfolk, "Tasco," Helen B. Hall, George L. Crocket, Mary J. Tilghman, Dorothea,
Florence L. Spofford, Charlotte W. R., Anson Cuyler Bangs, Nathaniel Haven, Bessie Gardner, Fred B. White, Elmer E. Burlingame,
Belle M. Evans, W. Dibblee, C. Brabrook, Emmie T. Lane and Hattie M. Coe, Allie and Paul Murphy, Marion E. Burke, Allie Anthony,
Fred B. Nickerson, Frank Havens, Edward L. Anderson, Emily Bodstein, Grace Nunemacher, Eugenia Pratt, Fannie H. Smith, May
Keith, Joseph C. Beardsley, Willie Mosher, Charlie D. Shay, Laurens T. Postell, Nellie S. Colby, E. C. Powles, Nellie F. Elliott, Perry C.
Ellis, Carrie Simpson, Willie S. Bums, Helen Worrell Clarkson, Keyda Richardson, Marcia E. Billings, Harr Wegmore, "Gussie," J.
Chase, S. Walter Goodson, George Brady, Katy E. Gilligan, "Jamie and Lucy," Mamie A. Johnson, Fannie B. Hubbard, "Menelaus,"
Edward Roome, W. H. Healy, Bertha E. Saltmarsh, Florence Lockwood, Leon Haskell, Edwin E. Slosson, Ida and Rosa Simons, Lena
Tilghman, Fred Richardson, Bessie R. Vroom.


456


~s~-r