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 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 Jack's independence day
 Cherries - Eight cousins
 Master Toto's canary
 How the grasshoppers came
 Roses
 American orators
 Totty's arithmetic - A great...
 How the "Margaretta" was captured...
 Working on the fourth of July
 Tom's deluge
 The wild sheep and the tame
 The young surveyor
 How to make a boat
 Marigold house
 A glance at Rhineland
 The horse and the wolf
 De avibus quae domus lusorias...
 The brook
 Three little dogs
 Jack-in-the-pulpit
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover
 Spine


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UF00065513_00023
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5/4/2007 1:49:18 PM -


St. Nicholas, vol. 2, no. 9
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Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00023
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas, vol. 2, no. 9
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: UF00065513:00023

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Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Frontispiece
        Plate
    Jack's independence day
        Page 521
        Page 522
        Page 523
        Page 524
        Page 525
    Cherries - Eight cousins
        Page 526
        Page 527
        Page 528
        Page 529
        Page 530
        Page 531
        Page 532
        Page 533
        Page 534
        Page 535
        Page 536
        Page 537
    Master Toto's canary
        Page 538
    How the grasshoppers came
        Page 539
        Page 540
    Roses
        Page 541
    American orators
        Page 542
        Page 543
        Page 544
        Page 545
    Totty's arithmetic - A great speculation
        Page 546
        Page 547
        Page 548
        Page 549
        Page 550
        Page 551
    How the "Margaretta" was captured one hundred years ago
        Page 552
        Page 553
    Working on the fourth of July
        Page 554
        Page 555
    Tom's deluge
        Page 556
        Page 557
    The wild sheep and the tame
        Page 558
    The young surveyor
        Page 559
        Page 560
        Page 561
        Page 562
        Page 563
        Page 564
        Page 565
        Page 566
        Page 567
    How to make a boat
        Page 568
        Page 569
        Page 570
    Marigold house
        Page 571
        Page 572
        Page 573
        Page 574
        Page 575
    A glance at Rhineland
        Page 576
        Page 577
    The horse and the wolf
        Page 578
        Page 579
        Page 580
        Page 581
    De avibus quae domus lusorias fingunt
        Page 582
    The brook
        Page 583
    Three little dogs
        Page 584
        Page 585
    Jack-in-the-pulpit
        Page 586
        Page 587
    The letter-box
        Page 588
        Page 589
        Page 590
    The riddle-box
        Page 591
        Page 592
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text












































































CHARITY.

FROM A PICTURE BY BRITON RIVIERE.
















ST. NICHOLAS.




JULY, 1875.


JACK'S INDEPENDENCE DAY.

BY ROSE TERRY COOKE


MOTHER say, mother can I go home with
Hi next week, and spend Independence Day ? "
"Oh, Jack! can you be a bit more gentle ?
sighed the pale lady on the sofa.
Darlingest mammy, I did n't mean to roar, but
you see I forget so "
Mrs. Blake laughed; who could help it? There
he stood in the door, fresh as an apple, his curly
hair tumbled about his head, his eyes shining, his
mouth open, as eager and as honest as-a boy!
Jack truly did not mean to roar," as he called it;
he loved his mother dearly, but he was well and
strong, and a boy, bless him He ought to have
been barreled up, but then it would have gone hard
with the barrel. He began again on a little lower
key.
You see, mother, Hi always goes home Fourth
of Julys, you know, and last year-well-- "
Here Jack hung his head. We won't tell tales;
but this must be acknowledged, that Hiram did
lose his holiday last year, all on Jack's account.
I know," said Mrs. Blake, smiling; "'but I
can trust you, dear; you may go next week, if you
like."
Oh bully for you, mother You are the- "
Jack Jack "
Mrs. Blake looked quite aghast; if there was a
little glitter in her blue eyes, Jack did not see it.
Thunder! there,-I 've done it again Fif-
teen cents, as sure as you live Mother, how can
a feller help a little slang once in a while ? "
He must help it, Jack, if he is my boy, when
he speaks to a lady."
But I did n't "
VOL. 11.-34.


Is n't your mother a lady ? "
No, sir-ree she's a born angel."
"Oh, Jack!" This time she could not help
it,-she must laugh.
"But all the same,-I don't approve, sir!
You're not in the right, because you are absurd."
"Mother, dear, let us change the subject, as
grandpa says when father and the minister begin
to talk politics. You see, if I go to Beartown, we
must start Monday afternoon. I want to be at
Tinker's all day long."
Send Hiram in to. me, Jack, and I will talk it
over with him."
Jack threw up his cap in the air, banged the
door behind him, and presently was heard out of
doors shouting for Hiram at the top of his voice.
Mrs. Blake laid her aching head down on the pil-
low, and wished, as she did every day, and many
times a day, that her husband could live at home,
and manage Jack; he was getting to be too much
for her. Not that he was disobedient, or bad; but
he was, like a great many of his kind, noisy,
heedless, and running wild. The feeble little lady
did not know any day what he would do before
night; she was always ready to see him brought
in with a broken leg or arm, though he never had
been yet; every winter she expected him to skate
into an air-hole; every summer to capsize his boat
on the pond, and be drowned; yet.here he was,
"high and dry," to use his own phrase. His
mother did not know boys,-she had not the least
idea how often they can be just not killed or
wounded,-how many dreadful and delightful
scrapes they live through; how much they learn


VOL. II.


No. 9.







JACK'S INDEPENDENCE DAY.


out of danger, or how sure they are to be good
for nothing when they stay at home and are cod-
dled.
"Turn him out, Mary!" papa always said;
"let him do all the good-natured mischief he
wants to; he must learn to risk his bones, and run
his chances; he must be a man, not a doll-baby.
If he tells lies, or disobeys, or is cruel, I '11 thrash
him when I come home; but I don't think I'll
have to: he is our boy; and there was no more
to be said. So he was to go to Beartown with the
" hired man," as Hiram Tinker called himself;
and here stood Hiram at the door, speaking for
himself.
Jack said you wanted me, Mrs. Blake."
"Yes, Hiram; he says you want to take him
home with you on Monday."
Well, I had sort o' lotted on it. I said last
year I guessed I 'd better look out for him come
next Fourth ; and seeing' the boss aint coming' hum
this time, I calculated you'd feel safer ef he was
off up on Saltash Mountain, out o' the way of
crackers 'nd cannon, 'nd sech -- "
So I should, Hiram; but you want Delia to go
too, and you must find a man to stay here and do
the work."
Oh, that's all regulated. Uncle Israel, he 's a-
comin'; he can do chores pretty spry fur a spell,
and he can do sleeping' first-rate; and Nancy
Pratt, she '11 come to keep Roselle company."
I depend on you to bring him home safe and
sound, Hiram."
Land o' liberty! yes; he can't drownd, fur
there aint no pond. I dunno what he can do; I
bet-he '11 find something ; I never see his beat for a
boy; but I'll keep my eyes skinned, I tell ye;
he '11 have to be everlastin' 'cute if he gets round
me."
Monday came at last,-hot, bright, and odorous
as June could be, if it were nominally July. Delia
had packed a basket of provisions big enough to
last a week; but Mrs. Blake knew Jack's appetite,
and meant, besides, to send something to the old
people on the mountain, for they were poor
enough ; their children, scattered here and there,
helped them, to be sure, and old Tinker was a
charcoal-burner, but he was not able to work as he
used to, and the money Hiram and Delia and the
rest sent him he saved up as carefully as he could
for the fast-coming time when he could not work
at all. Jack had put up fish-lines, hatchet, hooks,
at least a pint of worms, and fifty or more grass-
hoppers for bait,-the grasshoppers making much
kicking and tinkling in their tin box; two jack-
knives, a tin trumpet, and a pound of mixed candy,
all in his fishing-basket, and now stood by eying with
delight the cold chickens, the tongue, gingerbread,


cookies, biscuit, jam, and loaf of frosted cake that
were wedged into the basket; and the tin pail
holding lemons, and a package of tea, with another
of white sugar.
Delia had picked the biggest bunch of flowers
she could carry, for on Saltash Mountain the small
clearing about her father's house was used for
beans and potatoes; there was no room to spare
for flowers, and her mother loved them dearly.
All this provender being stowed in the bottom of
the wagon, Jack hugged his mother for good-bye,
and mounted to the front seat with Hiram, and off
they went; Delia and a mysterious big bundle on
the back seat, and Jack's bait tinkling and
bouncing under his own feet. At the foot of the
mountain they stopped at Uncle Sam Tinker's
house to water the horse, and Delia stepped in for
a few minutes, coming back with a basket of rus-
set apples that no cellar but Uncle Sam's could
have kept over till July, and a pail of cream for her
mother; there was a cow up on the mountain,-
a little black Irish cow,--but her pasture was so
scant she gave but a small measure of milk, and
cream was not to be thought of except for butter.
Now they started off again. The road wound up
the steep mountain-side through deep, dark woods
full of cool and sweetness, and a brook, swollen
by recent rains, foamed down over the rocks.
How Jack wanted to stop and watch the little
waterfall But night was coming on and they must
hurry. By and by they turned into a rough log-
ging road, and after a mile or two came to a clear-
ing almost at the top of the mountain. Jack
thought he should see a nice green field with a
pretty little house in the middle, but instead of that
he saw a space where the trees had been cut but
the stumps still left, between which grew potatoes
and corn as best they could, mixed with here and
there a raspberry shoot, or a tall fire-weed that had
escaped the hoe, while the house was a real log
cabin, set on the south side of a great granite rock,
comfortable in winter, no doubt, but hot enough
now, and to the right stood a small barn, also of
laid up logs. Jack was delighted; this was like
a real adventure in the backwoods. Old Mrs.
Tinker came out with a very hearty welcome, and
pretty soonl the old man followed Hiram in from
the barn and nodded to Jack and shook hands
with Delia. But Jack did not stop to listen to the
questions and comments of the family, his eyes
were in full use; he never had been in such a house
before; there was a big stone chimney outside,
lined with rough stone laid up with mud, and on a
crane hung the tea-kettle and the pot-hooks; over-
head in the logs were iron hooks holding a leg of
dried beef, a lantern, fishing-poles, pails, rude bas-
kets and other handy things; a big bench with a


[JULY,







JACK'S INDEPENDENCE DAY


high back stood one side of the fire; and a pine
table, three or four splint-bottomed chairs, a wooden
clock and a spinning-wheel, were all the furniture.
The sun was just about to set as Jack finished
his survey inside the house and stepped out-doors;
it seemed to him he could see all the world, he was


"A BROOK FOAMED DOWN OVER THE ROCKS."

so high; great stretches of dark forest rolled away
from the edge of the clearing; he saw mountains
beyond him and all around on either hand; the
Lake glittered very far away, and just beyond it
the sun slipped softly out of sight, and all the
splendid sky shone like roses. But, after all, Jack
was glad to be called in to supper; to have roast
potatoes, white and mealy, thick slices of rye bread
and butter, savory fried pork, fresh gingerbread
and a mug of milk. How that boy did eat! and
how sleepy he got in the corner of the settle long


before bed-time! Mountain evenings are cool, and
the smoldering blaze was comfortable enough.
Hiram went out to feed the horse and cow, and
old Tinker began to tell Jack a bear story, but in
a few minutes man and bear both vanished. Jack's
head fell on his breast, his eyes shut, and he began
to dream. He had just shot a bear
:it himself and was taking aim at an-
other one that, strange to say, had
on Delia's sun-bonnet, when he heard
a laugh, opened his eyes, and found
S Hiram trying to wake him. It cer-
tainly was time to go to bed; and,
half asleep still, he scrambled up
the ladder into the loft, slipped off
his clothes, and tumbled into some
sort of a bed, on the floor, and was
asleep directly. When he woke up
next morning with the first peep of
dawn he thought all the birds in the
world must be singing, there were so
many waking up in the woods and
telling each other it was day-break.
Jack looked about his bedroom with
wonder. The logs met in a point
overhead, and where he was he could
lift his hand and touch the roof. A
couple of pine chests, an old hair
trunk, and one flag-bottomed chair,
stood about the room. A little win-
dow at one end looked out on the
great rock, now blooming in every
crack with harebells, pink herb-
robert, yellow violets, and green
with rich mosses and climbing vines;
Sthe other window looked out over
tree-tops far off to the south. From
the rafters hung bunches of herbs,
dried apples, dried rings of squash,
'' bags of nuts, and the Sunday clothes.
i1.. Jack's bed was a tick stuffed with
.i sweet fern leaves. Hiram snored in
the other corner on a heap of hay
covered with a bear-skin. How de-
lightful it was! Do you think Jack
could go to sleep again? Not he !
Hiram was roused up at once, and produced from
that big bundle a suit of old clothes for Jack.
"You see," said he, "we're goin' to hang up
them grasshoppers and worms this morning on a
string, 'nd see ef there 's any trout to hum in Pop-
ple brook, 'nd I expect you'll hev them things
torn off of ye with briers and what not."
Jack did n't care. Clothes were a small matter
compared with catching real trout. He scrambled
down the ladder like a cat, picked up chips and
cones to light the fire, brought a pitcher of water







JACK'S INDEPENDENCE DAY.


from the spring, got out the worms, the candy, the ries, for Delia promised to make a raspberry
jackknives and the tin trumpet from his basket, short-cake for tea if they could find enough ripe
somewhat mixed up, and began to blow his blast ones; and with a couple of tin pails they went off
of independence at such a rate that Delia sent him in another direction from the brook, and after a


out-doors with Hiram to stay till breakfast was
ready; and by the time two fish-poles were cut,
the lines tied on, and the bait sorted, Jack was
hungrier than ever; and when they set out after-
ward for the fishing tramp, good old Mrs. Tinker
rolled up a big piece of rye bread and butter and
at least a pound of maple sugar for Hiram to put
in his pocket for Jack.
"Well, I guess I hed better," dryly remarked
Hiram; "he might take to eatin' on me up, he's
so everlastin' hungry about these days."
It was a long tramp to the brook, but Jack's legs
were stout. Hiram beguiled the way with tales of
his old accidents and adventures hereabout: there
was the rock he fell from once in a dark evening
when he lost his way; in that hollow tree he found
two bear cubs; seven gray squirrels about as big
as mice fell out of a nest in that beech-tree, and he
found them on the ground, stunned and scared,
and took them home and brought up two-the rest
died.' Jack listened with all his ears; he laughed
at Hiram's terror of the old bear's finding him at
her nest, boasted as to what he would have done,
and aired his courage in a very Fourth of July
manner.
"Mebbe you don't know jest what you would
do, young man," said Hiram; "folks don't always
come out jest as they calkerlate to; I should n't
wonder if you was to slip up some, if we really
should come acrost a sizable bear."
Ho! I guess I should n't run; you'd better
believe I'd give it to him, sir! Bears aint very
fierce animals anyhow."
"Well," drawled Hiram, you might eat him
up afore he eat you, that's a fact."
And here was the brook, so Jack said no more.
It would take toolong to tell all about this morn-
ing's fishing, how often Jack caught his line in the
branches, or slipped into the water. He really did
catch one trout out of a deep, dark pool where the
hurrying brook paused in its wild flight, as if to
rest, and his delight was great. He looked at the
speckled beauty from nose to tail, studying the
spots," Hiram said, till he knew every tinge of
color, every gold or roseate speck; and he labored
hard to catch another. Hiram angled with better
luck, or skill; a dozen or two rewarded his patience,
but Jack had only one by the time it was noon, and
they hastened home to have the fish dressed in
time for dinner-dressed to be eaten, not to be
looked at, as other beauties are. Then after
dinner they were going farther up the mountain
to an old burnt-over clearing to pick raspber-


long, hot walk found themselves in a place where
the trees had been cut and the brush burned off
for several acres, and wild red raspberries had
sprung up thickly all over it.
Behind the clearing the great cliffs of the mount-
ain-top rose abruptly, dotted on the very crest with
stunted pines, and the sun shone on them and was
reflected hotly on the clearing, which also faced
southward; all helped to ripen the big red berries,
which hung here and there like jewels. There was
a fine view from Saltash top, but neither Jack nor
Hiram cared for that; they came after berries, and
in five minutes were picking away as if for life.
You could hear the fruit rattle on the tin at first,
but soon they lay deep over the bottom of each
pail, and the hot, still air was only stirred by the
rustle of a bird, or the clear, high note of the wood
robin. Hiram and Jack picked away from each
other gradually. They first skirted the patch, but
Hiram soon worked his way into the middle, and
was quite lost to sight. By and by Jack's pail was
half full. He saw a bush with many more ripe on
it than any he had seen yet, so for the sake of hav-
ing his hands both free he tied the pail on a scrub
oak that was close by and began to strip the bush.
Presently something stirred behind the oak-leaves;
Jack shivered; he looked sharply, keeping very
still; a thick black tail swung a little, and a sort of
sigh, like a deep breath of some beast just waking
up came from the bush. Jack's heart stood still;
his tongue choked him; he made a desperate effort
and feebly called "H-i-ram!" There was a quick
scrabble behind the bush, and our boy took to his
heels with might and main; down the hill he went,
into the trees, anywhere, any way; what did he
care, with a big bear after him? over logs and
stones, and stumps, into springs and bushes, head-
long he went; while hard-hearted Hiram, who had,
as it happened, just climbed a rock to look after
Jack, and beheld the whole scene, sat down and
laughed till he held his sides!
Before long Jack came to a small wild apple-tree
that he remembered seeing on the way up; he
scrambled into its rough, thorny boughs in a fash-
ion that would have done credit to a monkey, and
sat still, thankful to get his breath, and quite sure
no bear could climb so small a trunk.
That he did not lose his way was owing to the
fact that a coal road, grown over, it is true, but
still a road through the trees, led from the Tinker
cabin up to the clearing in a pretty direct line, and
Jack had taken the right path merely from avoiding
the thick forest on either side of it. But he had


[JULY,







875s.] JACK'S INDEPENDENCE DAY. 525


made such good speed with the bear behind him
that he found his breath, scrambled down from his
perch in a state of rags beyond description, and
ran home to the house, where he was detailing his
wonderful escape to the old people and Delia, his
eyes big as saucers, his face red with heat and
scratches, and his clothes waving all about him like
small flags, when Hiram entered with both pails,
his usually sober face broad with laughter, and his
great shoulders shaking.
"Well, you be some scared, I swow! you made
the best time down that 'ar road, I tell ye! It did
beat all to see that little feller pull foot, Dely.
Land o' Goshen! I nigh about died a larfin!"
Did you see the bear?" eagerly exclaimed Jack,
too curious to mind Hiram's amusement.
"See the bear? Good Jehoshaphat! I guess I
did! heerd it bleat, too !" answered Hiram, splitting
with laughter afresh.
What ails ye, Hi?" put in the old man; can't
ye tell ef it's there or thereabout, so that we can
track it? I did n't believe there was a bear left on
:Saltash."
"Ask Jack," Hiram sputtered, with still new
bursts of laughter; "he saw it fust; I tell ye I
heerd it bleat."
"I guess you're sun-crazed," growled the old
man; "where was it, anyhow ?"
"A-eatin' sprouts, Dad, as natural as life; and
I '11 be teetotally jiggered ef it war n't our old black
lamb that strayed off two year ago, as sure as
shooting! "
They all went off then in as wild a fit of laughter
as Hiram. Jack turned red with rage and shame;
he was angry enough, and frightened and tired.
After all his boasting, to run from a bear was hardly
.excusable, but to be scared by a black sheep was
too much; still, to his credit be it said, Jack swal-
lowed his temper, and, with a little shamefaced
laugh, pulled up his rags about him, and manfully
said:
"Well, next time I'll stop and ask the thing's
name before I run."








;* r
-- :--- ... '" -- \
^a l'.'. -~ *f*.'- 2~ -


"That's a hero," said Hiram.
But Jack had learned a good lesson, and one he
never forgot: he was cured of boasting for all his
life.
There were raspberries enough for a big short-
cake that filled the whole bake-kettle, and when
Jack, now in a whole suit and with a cool face, sat
down to supper, that light and tender cake, split
open and buttered, and filled with a pink mixture
of berries, maple sugar and cream, might have
tempted anybody; as for Jack, he ate enough for
two people, and had to sit still an hour before he
could walk out to the big rock, which was a steep
precipice on Saltash side overhanging the river
valley, from whose top they all watched the rockets
shooting up from at least seven towns far, far below,
like small stars trying to reach the others in the
sky above them.
Oh Hiram! I've had an awful nice time! "
sighed Jack, with a great yawn, as he scrambled
up the ladder to bed.
Bear and all ? laughed Hiram.
Jack turned a little red; he had forgotten that.
Say, Hi, don't tell mother about that, will
you?"
"Why?"
"Oh, I want to tell her myself."
"That's all right, sir; no, I wont. I mistrusted
ye felt kinder sheepish about it; haw, haw, haw "
Hiram evidently thought he had made a good
joke.
But Jack did tell his mother all about it, next
day; after he had laid before her a shining bunch
of trout Hiram had got up by sunrise to catch,
a great slab of fragrant maple sugar, a bag of
butternuts, and a basketful of tiny ferns, delicate
mosses, wood-sorrel, Linnea, and squattee-vines,
for her fernery.
Mrs. Bruce laughed, to be sure, but it was a soft
mother-laugh that did not hurt Jack a bit; he gave
her a big hug, and wound up his story with-
"I never did have such.a good Fourth of July
in all my life! "







EIGHT COUSINS.


CHERRIES.

BY EMILY HUNTINGTON MILLER.

UNDER the tree the farmer said,
Smiling, and shaking his wise old head:
"Cherries are ripe but then, you know,
There's the grass to cut and the corn to hoe;
We can gather the cherries any day,
But when the sun shines we must make our hay;
To-night, when the chores have all been done,
We'll muster the boys, for fruit and fun."

Up in the tree a robin said,
Perking and cocking his saucy head:
" Cherries are ripe and so, to-day,
We'll gather them while you make the hay;
For we are the boys with no corn to hoe,
No cows to milk, and no grass to mow."
At night the farmer said: "Here's a trick!
Those roguish robins have had their pick."







EIGHT COUSINS.

BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT.


CHAPTER XIII.
COSEY CORNER.
S vacation was over, the boys went
back to school, and poor Mac was
left lamenting. He was out of the
darkened room now, and promoted
to blue goggles, through which he
took a gloomy view of life, as might
)have been expected; for there was
nothing he could do but wander
about, and try to amuse himself with-
out using his eyes. Any one who has ever been
condemned to that sort of idleness, knows how
irksome it is, and can understand the state of mind
which caused Mac to say to Rose in a desperate
tone one day:
Look here, if you don't invent some new em-
ployment or amusement for me, I shall knock my-
self on the head as sure as you live."
Rose flew to Uncle Alec for advice, and he
ordered both patient and nurse to the mountains for
a month, with Aunt Jessie and Jamie as escort.


Pokey and her mother joined the party, and one
bright September morning six very happy-looking
people were aboard the express train for Portland.
Two smiling mammas laden with luncheon baskets
and wraps, a pretty young girl with a bag of books
on her arm, a tall, thin lad with his hat over his
eyes, and two small children, who sat with their
short legs straight out before them, and their chub-
by faces beaming with the first speechless delight
of "truly traveling."
An especially splendid sunset seemed to have
been prepared to welcome them when, after a long
day's journey, they drove into a wide, green door-
yard, where a white colt, a red cow, two cats, four
kittens, many hens, and a dozen people, old and
young, were gayly disporting themselves. Every
one nodded and smiled in the friendliest manner,
and a lively old lady kissed the new-comers all
round, as she said heartily :
Well, now, I'm proper glad to see you! Come
right in and rest, and we '11 have tea in less than
no time, for you must be tired. Lizzie, you show
the folks upstairs; Kitty, you fly round and help


526


[JULn,






EIGHT COUSINS.


father in with the trunks, and Jenny and I will have
the table all ready by the time, you come down.
Bless the dears, they want to go see the pussies,
and so they shall "
The three pretty daughters did "fly round," and
every one felt at home at once; all were so hospi-
table and kind. Aunt Jessie had raptures over the
home-made carpets, quilts, and quaint furniture;
Rose could not keep away from the windows, for
each framed a lovely picture; and the little folks
made friends at once with the other children, who
filled their arms with chickens and kittens, and did
the honors handsomely.
The toot of a horn called all to supper, and a
goodly party, including six children besides the
Campbells, assembled in the long dining-room,
armed with mountain appetites and the gayest
spirits. It was impossible for any one to be shy or
sober, for such gales of merriment arose they blew
the starch out of the stiffest, and made the sad-
dest jolly. Mother Atkinson, as all called their
hostess, was the merriest there, and the busiest;
for she kept flying up to wait on the children, to
bring out some new dish, or to banish the live
stock, who were of such a social turn that the colt
came into the entry and demanded sugar; the cats
sat about in people's laps, winking suggestively at
the food; and speckled hens cleared the kitchen-
floor of crumbs, as they joined in the chat with a
cheerful clucking.
Everybody turned out after tea to watch the sun-
set till all the lovely red was gone, and mosquitoes
wound their shrill horns to sound the retreat. The
music of an organ surprised the new-comers, and
in the parlor they found Father Atherton playing
sweetly on the little instrument made by himself.
All the children gathered about him, and, led by
the tuneful sisters, sang prettily till Pokey fell
asleep behind the door, and Jamie gaped audibly
right in the middle of his favorite:
"Coo," said the little doves: "Coo," said she,
"All in the top of the old pine-tree."
The older travelers, being tired, went to "bye
low" at the same time, and slept like tops in
home-spun sheets, on husk mattresses made by
Mother Atkinson, who seemed to have put some
soothing powder among them, so deep and sweet
was the slumber that came.
Next day began the wholesome out-of-door life,
which works such wonders with tired minds and
feeble bodies. The weather was perfect, and the
mountain air made the children as frisky as young
lambs; while the elders went about smiling at one
another, and saying, "Is n't it splendid ? Even
Mac, the "slow coach," was seen to leap over a
fence as if he really could not help it; and when
Rose ran after him with his broad-brimmed hat, he


made the spirited proposal to go into the woods
and hunt for a catamount.
Jamie and Pokey were at once enrolled in the
Cosey Corner Light Infantry,-a truly superb com-
pany, composed entirely of officers, all wearing
cocked hats, carrying flags, waving swords or beat-
ing drums. It was a spectacle to stir the dullest
soul when this gallant band marched out of the
yard in full regimentals, with Captain Dove-a
solemn, big-headed boy of eleven-issuing his
orders with the gravity of a General, and his Fal-
staffian regiment obeying them with more docility
than skill. The little Snow children did very well,
and Lieutenant Jack Dove was fine to see; so was
Drummer Frank, the errand-boy of the house, as
he rub-a-dub-dubbed with all his heart and drum-
sticks. Jamie had "trained" before, and was
made a colonel at once; but Pokey was the best
of all, and called forth a spontaneous burst of ap-
plause from the spectators as she brought up the
rear, her cocked hat all over one eye, her flag
trailing over her shoulder, and her wooden sword
straight up in the air; her face beaming and every
curl bobbing with delight as her fat legs tottered in
the vain attempt to keep step manfully.
Mac and Rose were picking blackberries in the
bushes beside the road when the soldiers passed
without seeing them, and they witnessed a sight
that was both pretty and comical. A little farther
on was one of the family burial spots so common
in those parts, and just this side of it Captain Fred
Dove ordered his company to halt, explaining his
reason for so doing in the following words:
"That's a grave-yard, and it's proper to muffle
the drums and lower the flags as we go by, and
we 'd better take off our hats, too ; it's more re-
spectable, I think."
Is n't that cunning of the dears ?" whispered
Rose, as the little troop marched slowly by to the
muffled roll of the drums, every flag and sword
held low, all the little heads uncovered, and the
childish faces very sober as the leafy shadows
flickered over them.
Let's follow and see what they are after," pro-
posed Mac, who found sitting on a wall and being
fed with blackberries luxurious but tiresome.
So they followed and heard the music grow
lively, saw the banners wave in the breeze again
when the grave-yard was passed, and watched the
company file into the dilapidated old church that
stood at the corner of three woodland roads. Pres-
ently the sound of singing made the outsiders
quicken their steps, and, stealing up, they peeped
in at one oi the broken windows.
Captain Dove was up in the old wooden pulpit,
gazing solemnly down upon his company, who,
having stacked their arms in the porch, now sat in


1875.3







528 EIGHT COUSINS.


the bare pews singing a Sunday-school hymn with
great vigor and relish.
Let us pray," said Captain Dove, with as much
reverence as an army chaplain, and, folding his
hands, he repeated a prayer which he thought all
would know; an excellent little prayer, but not ex-
actly appropriate to the morning, for it was:
Now I lay me down to sleep."
Every one joined in saying it, and it was a pretty
sight to see the little creatures bowing their curly
heads and lisping out the words they knew so well.
Tears came into Rose's eyes as she looked; Mac
took his hat off involuntarily, and then clapped it
on again as if ashamed of showing any feeling.
Now I shall preach you a short sermon, and
my text is, Little children, love one another.' I
asked mamma to give me one, and she thought
that would be good; so you all sit still and I '11
preach it. You must n't whisper, Marion, but hear
me. It means that we should be good to each
other, and play fair and not quarrel as we did this
very day about the wagon. Jack can't always drive
and need n't be mad because I like to go with
Frank. Annette ought to be horse sometimes and
not always driver, and Willie may as well make up
his mind to let Marion build her house by his, for
she will do it and he need n't fuss about it. Jamie
seems to be a good boy, but I shall preach to him
if he is n't. No, Pokey, people don't kiss in church
or put their hats on. Now you must all remember
what I tell you, because I 'm the Captain and you
should mind me."
Here Lieutenant Jack spoke right out in meeting
with the rebellious remark:
Don't care if you are; you'd better mind your-
self, and tell how you took away my strap, and kept
the biggest doughnut, and did n't draw fair when
we had the truck."
"Yes, and you slapped Frank; I saw you,"
bawled Willie Snow, bobbing up in his pew.
And you took my book away and hid it 'cause
I would n't go and swing when you wanted me to,"
added Annette, the oldest of the Snow trio.
I s/a' n't build my house by Willie's if he don't
want me to, so now put in little Marion, joining
the mutiny.
"I will tiss Dimmy and I tored up my hat
'tause a pin picked me," shouted Pokey, regardless
of Jamie's efforts to restrain her.
Captain Dove looked rather taken aback at this
outbreak in the ranks; but being a dignified and
calm personage, he quelled the rising rebellion
with great tact and skill by saying, briefly:
"We will sing the last hymn; 'Sweet, sweet
good-bye'-you all know that, so do it nicely, and
then we will go and have luncheon."


Peace was instantly restored, and a burst of
melody drowned, the suppressed giggle of Rose
and Mac, who found it impossible to keep sober
during the latter part of this somewhat remarkable
service. Fifteen minutes of repose rendered it a
physical impossibility for the company to march
out as quietly as they had marched in. I grieve to
state that the entire troop raced home as hard as
they could pelt, and were soon skirmishing briskly
over their lunch, utterly oblivious of what Jamie
(who had been much impressed by the sermon)
called the Captain's beautiful teck." .
It was astonishing how much they all found to
do at Cosey Corner, and Mac, instead of lying in a
hammock and being read to, as he had expected,
was busiest of all. He was invited to survey and
lay out Skeeterville, a town which the children
were getting up in a huckleberry pasture; and he
found much amusement in planning little roads,
staking off house-lots, attending to the water-
works, and consulting with the select-men "
about the best sites for public buildings ; for Mac
was a boy still, in spite of his fifteen years and his
love of books.
Then he went fishing with a certain jovial gen-
tleman from the West; and though they seldom
caught anything but colds, they had great fun and
exercise chasing the phantom trout they were bound
to have. Mac also developed a geological mania,
and went tapping about at rocks and stones, dis-
coursing wisely of strata, periods, and fossil
remains; while Rose picked up leaves and lich-
ens, and gave him lessons in botany, in return for
his lectures on geology.
They led a very merry life; for the Atkinson
girls kept up a sort of perpetual picnic; and did it so
capitally, that one was never tired of it. So their
visitors throve finely, and long before the month
was out it was evident that Dr. Alec had prescribed
the right medicine for his patients.

CHAPTER XIV.
A HAPPY BIRTHDAY.
S( HE twelfth of October was Rose's birth-
:_|l._L day, but no one seemed to remem-
i-E'I ber that interesting fact, and she felt
S''-'-I delicate about mentioning it, so fell
h IL;.J asleep the night before wondering
o if she would have any presents. That
S question was settled early the next
morning, for she was awakened by
a soft tap on her face, and opening
her eyes she beheld a little black
Sand white figure sitting on her pillow,
staring at her with a pair of round eyes very like
blueberries, while one downy paw patted her nose


[JULY,







EIGHT COUSINS. 529


to attract her notice. It was Kitty Comet, the
prettiest of all the pussies, and Comet evidently
had a mission to perform, for a pink bow adorned
her neck, and a bit of paper was pinned to it bear-
ing the words, "For Miss Rose, from Frank."
That pleased her extremely, and that was only
the beginning of the fun, for surprises and presents
kept popping out in the most delight-
ful manner all through the day, the
Atkinson girls being famous jokers
and Rose a favorite. But the best gift -
of all came on the way to Mount
Windy-top, where it was decided to
picnic in honor of the great occasion.
Three jolly loads set off soon after :.i.
breakfast, for everybody went, and -
everybody seemed bound to have an
extra good time, especially Mother -
Atkinson, who wore a hat as broad- -.
brimmed as an umbrella and took the '-
dinner-horn to keep her flock from
straying away. :
"I'm going to drive aunty and a i
lot of the babies, so you must ride the ;
pony. And please stay behind us a
good bit when we go to the station,
for a parcel is coming, and you are
not to see it till dinner-time. You
wont mind, will you ?" said Mac in a
confidential aside during the wild
flurry of the start.
"Not a bit," answered Rose; it
hurts my feelings very much to be
told to keep out of the way at any
other time, but birthdays and Christ-
mas it is part of the fun to be blind ,
and stupid, and poked into corners. -
I '11 be ready as soon as you are, Gig-
lamps."
Stop under the big maple till I call,-then you
can't possibly see anything," added Mac, as he
mounted her on the pony his father had sent up
for his use.
"Barkis" was so gentle and so "willing,"
however, that Rose was ashamed to be afraid
to ride him; so she had learned, that she might
surprise Dr. Alec when she got home; meantime
she had many a fine canter "over the hills and far
away with Mac, who preferred Mr. Atkinson's old
Sorrel.
Away they went, and coming to the red maple,
Rose obediently paused; but could not help steal-
ing a glance in the forbidden direction before the
call came. Yes, there was a hamper going under the
seat, and then she caught sight of a tall man whom
Mac seemed to be hustling into the carriage in a
great hurry. One look was enough, and with a cry


of delight, Rose was off down the road as fast as
Barkis could go.
Now I '11 astonish him," she thought. I '11
dash up in grand style, and show him that- I am
not a coward, after all."
Fired by this ambition, she startled Barkis by a
sharp cut, and still more bewildered him by leav-


:.



- h~ 'ij ..4i


, -s=. ..- -- ; ? '- '





. .c: o ..-


ROSE STOPS TOO SUDDENLY.
ing hini to his own guidance down the steep, stony
road. The approach would have been a fine suc-.
cess if, just as Rose was about to pull up and
salute, two or three distracted hens had not scut-
tled across the road with a great squawking, which
caused Barkis to shy and stop so suddenly that his
careless rider landed in an ignominious heap just
under old Sorrel's astonished nose.
Rose was up again before Dr. Alec was out of
the carryall, and threw two dusty arms about his
neck, crying with a breathless voice:
Oh, uncle, I'm so glad to see you! It is bet-
ter than a cart-load of goodies, and so dear of you
to come "
"But are n't you hurt, child? That was a rough
tumble, and I 'm afraid you must be damaged
somewhere," answered the Doctor, full of fond
anxiety, as he surveyed his girl with pride.


EIGHT COUSINS.


529








53 IhTCUIS.[UY


"My feelings are hurt, but my bones are all
safe. It's too bad I was going to do it so nicely,
and those stupid hens spoilt it all," said Rose,
quite crest-fallen, as well as much shaken.
"I could n't believe my eyes when I asked
'Where is Rose ?' and Mac pointed to the little
Amazon pelting down the hill at such a rate. You
could n't have done anything that would please me
more, and I 'm delighted to see how well you ride.
Now will you mount again, or shall we turn Mac
out and take you in ? asked Dr. Alec, as Aunt
Jessie proposed a start, for the others were beckon-
ing them to follow.
"Pride goeth before a fall,-better not try to
show off again, ma'am," said Mac, who would have
been more than mortal if he had refrained from
teasing when so good a chance offered.
Pride does go before a fall, but I wonder if a
sprained ankle always comes after it?" thought
Rose, bravely concealing her pain, as she answered,
with great dignity:
I prefer to ride. Come on, and see who will
catch up first."
She was up and away as she spoke, doing her
best to efface the memory of her downfall by sit-
ting very erect, elbows down, head well up, and
taking the motion of the pony as Barkis cantered
along as easily as a rocking-chair.
You ought to see her go over a fence and race
when we ride together. She can scud, too, like a
deer when we play Follow the leader,' and skip
stones and bat balls almost as well as I can," said
Mac, in reply to his uncle's praise of his pupil.
"I 'm afraid you will think her a sad tomboy,
Alec; but really she seems so well and happy, I
have not the heart to check her. She has broken
out in the most unexpected way, and frisks like a
colt; for she says she feels so full of spirits she
must run and shout whether it is proper or not,"
added Mrs. Jessie, who had been a pretty hoyden
years ago herself.
Good,-good that's the best news you could
tell me; and Dr. Alec rubbed his hands heartily.
Let the girl run and shout as much as she will,-
it is a sure sign of health, and as natural to a happy
child as frisking is to any young animal full of life.
Tomboys make strong women usually, and I had
far rather find Rose playing foot-ball with Mac
than puttering over head-work like that affected
midget, Ariadne Blish."
But she cannot go on playing foot-ball very
long; and we must not forget that she has a
woman's work to do by and by," began Mrs.
Jessie.
Neither will Mac play foot-ball much longer,
but he will be all the better fitted for business,
because of the health it gives him. Polish is


easily added, if the foundations are strong; but no
amount of gilding will be of use if your timber is
not sound. I 'm sure I 'm right, Jessie; and if I
can do as well by my girl during the next six
months as I have the last, my experiment will suc-
ceed."
"It certainly will; for when I contrast that
bright, blooming face with the pale, listless one
that made my heart ache a while ago, I can believe
in almost any miracle," said Mrs. Jessie, as Rose
looked round to point out a lovely view, with
cheeks like the ruddy apples in the orchard near
by, eyes clear as the autumn sky overhead, and
vigor in every line of her girlish figure.
A general scramble among the rocks was fol-
lowed by a regular gypsy lunch, which the young
folks had the rapture of helping to prepare.
Mother Atkinson put on her apron, turned up her
sleeves, and fell to work as gayly as if in her own
kitchen, boiling the kettle slung on three sticks
over a fire of cones and fir-boughs; while the girls
spread the mossy table with a feast of country
goodies, and the children tumbled about in every-
one's way till the toot of the horn made them settle
down like a flock of hungry birds.
As soon as the merry meal and a brief interval
of repose were over, it was unanimously voted to
have some charades. A smooth, green spot be-
tween two stately pines was chosen for the stage;
shawls hung up, properties collected, audience and
actors separated, and a word quickly chosen.
The first scene discovered Mac in a despondent
attitude and shabby dress, evidently much troubled
in mind. To him entered a remarkable creature
with a brown-paper bag over its head. A little
pink rose peeped through one hole in the middle,
white teeth through another, and above two eyes
glared fiercely. Spires of grass stuck in each side
of the mouth seemed meant to represent whiskers;
the upper corners of the bag were twisted like ears,
and no one could doubt for a moment that the
black scarf pinned on behind was a tail.
This singular animal seemed in pantomime to be
comforting his master and offering advice, which
was finally acted upon, for Mac pulled off his boots,
helped the little beast into them, and gave him a
bag; then, kissing his paw with a hopeful gesture,
the creature retired, purring so successfully that
there was a general cry of "Cat, puss, boots "
Cat is the word," replied a voice, and the cur-
tain fell.
The next scene was a puzzler, for in came another
animal, on all fours this time, with a new sort of
tail and long ears. A gray shawl concealed its
face, but an inquisitive sunbeam betrayed the glitter
as of goggles under the fringe. On its back rode
a small gentleman in Eastern costume, who ap-


JULY,


530


EIGHT COUSINS.






EIGHT COUSINS.


peared to find some difficulty in keeping his seat
as his steed jogged along. Suddenly a spirit ap-
peared, all in white, with long newspaper wings
upon its back and golden locks about its face.
Singularly enough the beast beheld this apparition
and backed instantly, but the rider evidently saw
nothing and whipped up unmercifully, also unsuc-
cessfully, for the spirit stood directly in the path,
and the amiable beast would not budge a foot. A
lively skirmish followed, which ended in the East-
ern gentleman's being upset into a sweet-fern bush,
while the better-bred animal abased itself before
the shining one.
The children were all in the dark till Mother
Atkinson said, in an inquiring tone:
If that isn't Balaam and the ass I'd like to know
what it is. Rose makes a sweet angel, don't she ?"
"Ass was evidently the word, and the angel
retired, smiling with mundane satisfaction over the
compliment that reached her ears.
The next was a pretty little scene from the im-
mortal story of "Babes in the Wood." Jamie
and Pokey came trotting in, hand in hand, and
having been through the parts many times before,
acted with great ease and much fluency, audibly
directing each other from time to time as they went
along. The berries were picked, the way lost, tears
shed, baby consolation administered, and then the
little pair lay down among the brakes and died
with their eyes wide open and the toes of their four
little boots turned up to the daisies in the most
pathetic manner.
Now the wobins tum. You be twite dead,
Dimmy, and I '11 peep and see 'em," one defunct
innocent was heard to say.
I hope he'll be quick, for I'm lying on a stone
and ants are walking up my leg like fury," mur-
mured the other.
Here the robins came flapping in with red scarfs
over their breasts and leaves in their mouths,
which they carefully laid upon the babes wherever
they would show best. A prickly blackberry-leaf
placed directly over Pokey's nose caused her to
sneeze so violently that her little legs flew into the
air; Jamie gave a startled Ow !" and the pitying
fowls fled giggling.
After some discussion it was decided that the
syllable must be "strew or strow," and then they
waited to see if it was a good guess.
This scene discovered Annette Snow in bed,
evidently very ill; Miss Jenny was her anxious
mamma, and her merry conversation amused the
audience till Mac came in as a physician, and made
great fun with his big watch, pompous manner,
and absurd questions. He prescribed one pellet
with an unpronounceable name, and left after de-
manding twenty dollars for his brief visit.


The pellet was administered, and such awful
agonies immediately set in that the distracted
mamma bade a sympathetic neighbor run for
Mother Know-all. The neighbor ran, and in came
a brisk little old lady in cap and specs, with a
bundle of herbs under her arm, which she at once
applied in all sorts of funny ways, explaining their
virtues as she clapped a plantain poultice here,
put a pounded catnip plaster there, or tied a couple
of mullein leaves round the sufferer's throat. In-
stant relief ensued, the dying child sat up and
demanded baked beans; the grateful parent offered
fifty dollars; but Mother Know-all indignantly re-
fused it and went smiling away, declaring that a
neighborly turn needed no reward, and a doctor's.
fee was all a humbug.
The audience were in fits of laughter over this.
scene, for Rose imitated Mrs. Atkinson capitally,
and the herb-cure was a good hit at the excellent
lady's belief that "yarbs would save mankind if
properly applied. No one enjoyed it more than
herself, and the saucy children prepared for the
grand finale in high feather.
This closing scene was brief but striking, for two.
trains of cars whizzed in from opposite sides, met
with a terrible collision in the middle of the stage,
and a general smash-up completed the word catas-
trofle.
Now let us act a proverb. I've got one all
ready," said Rose, who was dying to distinguish
herself in some way before Uncle Alec.
So every one but Mac, the gay Westerner, and
Rose, took their places on the rocky seats and dis-
cussed the late beautiful and varied charade, in
which Pokey frankly pronounced her own scene
the "bestest of all."
In five minutes the curtain was lifted; nothing
appeared but a very large sheet of brown paper
pinned to a tree, and on it was drawn a clock-face,
the hands pointing to four. A small note below
informed the public that 4 A. M. was the time.
Hardly had the audience grasped this important
fact when a long water-proof serpent was seen un-
coiling itself from behind a stump. An inch-worm
perhaps would be a better description, for it trav-
eled in the same humpy way as that pleasing
reptile. Suddenly a very wide-awake and active
fowl advanced, pecking, chirping, and scratching
vigorously. A tuft of green leaves waved upon his
crest, a larger tuft of brakes made an umbrageous
tail, and a shawl of many colors formed his flapping
wings. A truly noble bird, whose legs had the
genuine strut, whose eyes shone watchfully, and
whose voice had a ring that evidently struck terror
into the caterpillar's soul, if it was a caterpillar.
He squirmed, he wriggled, he humped as fast as.
he could, trying to escape; but all in vain. The








EIGHT COUSINS[JULY,


tufted bird espied him, gave one warbling sort of
-crow, pounced upon him, and flapped triumphantly
away.
That early bird got such a big worm he could
hardly carry him off," laughed Aunt Jessie, as the
children shouted over the joke suggested by Mac's
nickname.
"That is one of uncle's favorite proverbs, so I
got it up for his especial benefit," said Rose, com-
ing up with the two-legged worm beside her.
Very clever; what next? asked Dr. Alec as
she sat down beside him.
The Dove boys are going to give us an In-
cident in the Life of Napoleon,' as they call it; the
children think it very splendid, and the little fellows
do it rather nicely," answered Mac, with condescen-
:sion.
A tent appeared, and pacing to and fro before it
was a little sentinel, who, in a brief soliloquy, in-
formed the observers that the elements were in a
great state of confusion, that he had marched some
hundred miles or so that day, and that he was
dying for want of sleep. Then he paused, leaned
upon his gun, and seemed to doze; dropped slowly
down overpowered with slumber, and finally lay
flat, with his gun beside him, a faithless little senti-
nel. Enter Napoleon, cocked hat, gray, coat, high
boots, folded arms, grim mouth, and a melodra-
matic stride. Freddy Dove always covered himself
with glory in this part and took the stage with
a Napoleonic attitude that brought down the house,
for the big-headed boy with solemn, dark eyes and
:square brow, was the very moral of that rascal,
Boneyparty," Mother Atkinson said.
Some great scheme was evidently brewing in his
mighty mind,-a trip across the Alps, a bonfire at
Moscdw, or a little skirmish at Waterloo, perhaps,
for he marched in silent majesty till suddenly a
gentle snore disturbed the imperial reverie. He
:saw the sleeping soldier and glared upon him, say-
ing in an awful tone:
Ha asleep at his post Death is the penalty
-he must die "
Picking up the musket, he is about to execute
summary justice, as emperors are in the habit of
doing, when something in the face of the weary
sentinel appears to touch him. And well it might,
for a most engaging little warrior was Jack as he
lay with his shako half off, his childish face trying
to keep sober, and a great black moustache over
his rosy mouth. It would have softened the heart
of any Napoleon, and the Little Corporal proved
himself a man by relenting, and saying, with a lofty
gesture of forgiveness :
Brave fellow, he is worn out; I will let him
.sleep, and mount guard in his place."
Then, shouldering the gun, this noble being


strode to and fro with a dignity which thrilled the
younger spectators. The sentinel awakes, sees
what has happened, and gives himself up for lost.
But the Emperor restores his weapon, and, with
that smile which won all hearts, says, pointing to a
high rock whereon a crow happens to be sitting:
" Be brave, be vigilant, and remember that from
yonder Pyramids generations are beholding you,"
and with these memorable words he vanishes,
leaving the grateful soldier bolt upright, with his
hand at his temple and deathless devotion stamped
upon his youthful countenance.
The applause which followed this superb piece
had hardly subsided, when a sudden splash and a
shrill cry caused a general rush toward the water-
fall that went gamboling down the rocks, singing
sweetly as it ran. Pokey had tried to gambol also,
and had tumbled into a shallow pool, whither
Jamie had gallantly followed, in a vain attempt to
fish her out, and both were paddling about half-
frightened, half-pleased with the unexpected bath.
This mishap made it necessary to get the drip-
ping infants home as soon as possible, so the
wagons were loaded up, and away they went, as
merry as if the mountain air had really been
"Oxygenated Sweets not Bitters," as Dr. Alec
suggested when Mac said he felt as jolly as if he
had been drinking champagne instead of the cur-
rant wine that came with a great frosted cake
wreathed with sugar roses in Aunt Plenty's hamper
of goodies.
Rose took part in all the fun, and never betrayed
by look or word the twinges of pain she suffered
in her ankle. She excused herself from the games
in the evening, however, and sat talking to Uncle
Alec in a lively way, that both amazed and delighted
him; for she confided to him that she played horse
with the children, drilled with the Light Infantry,
climbed trees, and did other dreadful things that
would have caused the aunts to cry aloud if they
knew of them.
I don't care a pin what they say if you don't
mind, uncle," she answered when he pictured the
dismay of the good ladies.
Ah, it's all very well to defy them, but you are
getting so rampant, I'm afraid you will defy me
next, and then where are we ? "
No I wont I should n't dare; because you
are my guardian, and can put me in a strait-jacket
if you like; and Rose laughed in his face, even
while she nestled closer with a confiding gesture
pleasant to see.
Upon my word, Rosy, I begin to feel like the
man who bought an elephant, and then did n't
know what to do with him. I thought I had got a
pet and plaything for years to come; but here you
are growing up like a bean-stalk, and I shall find


[JULY,


EIGHT COUSINS






EIGHT COUSINS.


I've got a strong-minded little woman on my hands
before I can turn round. There's a predicament
for a man and an uncle "
Dr. Alec's comic distress was mercifully relieved
for the time being by a dance of goblins on the
lawn, where the children, with pumpkin lanterns
on their heads, frisked about like will-o'-the-wisps,
as a parting surprise.
When Rose went to bed, she found that Uncle
Alec had not forgotten her; for on the table stood
a delicate little easel, holding two miniatures set in
velvet. She knew them both, and stood looking
at them till her eyes brimmed over with tears that
were both sweet and sad; for they were the faces
of her father and mother, beautifully copied from
portraits fast fading away.
Presently she knelt down, and, putting her arms
round the little shrine, kissed one after the other,
saying with an earnest voice, "I 'II truly try to
make them glad to see me by and by."
And that was Rose's little prayer on the night
of her fourteenth birthday.
Two days later, the Campbells went home, a
larger party than when they came; for Dr. Alec
was escort, and Kitty Comet was borne in state in
a basket, with a bottle of milk, some tiny sand--
wiches, and a doll's dish to drink out of, as well as
a bit of carpet to lie on in her palace car, out of
which she kept popping her head in the most fas-
cinating manner.
There was a great kissing and cuddling, waving
of handkerchiefs, and last good-byes, as they went;
and when they had started, Mother Atkinson
came running after them, to tuck in some little
pies, hot from the oven, "for the dears, who
might get tired of bread-and-butter during that
long day's travel."
Another start, and another halt; for the Snow
children came shrieking up to demand the three
kittens that Pokey was coolly carrying off in a
traveling-bag. The unhappy kits were rescued,
half smothered, and restored to their lawful own-
ers, amid dire lamentation from the little kidnap-
per, who declared that she only "tooked um
'cause they'd want to go wid their sister Tomit."
Start number three and stoppage number three,
as Frank hailed them with the luncheon-basket,
which had been forgotten, after every one had pro-
tested that it was safely in.
All went well after that, and the long journey
was pleasantly beguiled by Pokey and Pussy, who
played together so prettily that they were consid-
ered public benefactors.
Rose doesn't want to go home, for she knows
the aunts wont let her rampage as she did up at
Cosey Corner," said Mac, as they approached the
old house.


I can 't rampage if I want to,-for a time, at.
least; and I'll tell you why. I sprained my ankle
when I tumbled off of Barkis, and it gets worse and
worse; though I 've done all I know to cure it and
hide it, so it shouldn't trouble any one," whis-
pered Rose, knitting her brows with pain, as she
prepared to descend, wishing her uncle would take-
her instead of her bundles.
How he did it, she never knew; but Mac had
her up the steps and on the parlor sofa before she
could put her foot to the ground.
"There you are,-right side up with care; and.
mind, now, if your ankle bothers you, and you are
laid up with it, l am to be your footman. It's only
fair, you know; for I don't forget how good you
have been to me." And Mac went to call Phebe,
so full of gratitude and good-will, that his very
goggles shone.

CHAPTER XV.
EAR-RINGS.
WING to neglect, Rose's.
sprain proved to be a se-
rious one, and Dr. Alec
ordered her to lie on the
sofa for a fortnight at least,
whereat she groaned dis-
mally, but dared not open-
ly complain, lest the boys.
should turn upon her with
some of the wise little sermons.
on patience which she had de-
livered for their benefit.
It was Mac's turn now, and hon-
orably did he repay his debt; for, as school was still
forbidden, he had plenty of leisure, and devoted
most of it to Rose. He took many steps for her,
and even allowed her to teach him to knit, after
assuring himself that many a brave Scotchman
knew how to click the pricks." She was obliged
to take a solemn vow of secrecy, however, before
he would consent; for, though he did not mind
being called Giglamps,"." Granny" was more
than his boyish soul could bear, and at the approach
of any of the clan his knitting vanished as if by
magic, which frequent chucking out of sight did
not improve the stripe he was doing for Rose's new
afghan.
She was busy with this pretty work one bright
October afternoon, all nicely established on her
sofa in the upper hall, while Jamie and Pokey (lent
for her amusement) were keeping house in a cor-
ner, with Comet and Rose's old doll for their
" childerns."
Presently, Phebe appeared with a card. Rose
read it, made a grimace, then laughed and said:








EIGHT COUSINS. IJULY,


" I 'll see Miss Blish," and immediately put on her
company face, pulled out her locket, and settled
her curls.
You dear thing, how do you do ? I've been
trying to call every day since you got back, but I
have so many engagements, I really could n't
manage it till to-day. So glad you are alone, for
mamma said I could sit awhile, and I brought my
lace-work to show you, for it's perfectly lovely,"
cried Miss Blish, greeting Rose with a kiss, which
was not very warmly returned, though Rose politely
thanked her for coming, and bid Phebe roll up the
easy chair.
How nice to have a maid said Ariadne, as
she settled herself with much commotion. Still,
dear, you must be very lonely, and feel the need
of a bosom friend."
I have my cousins," began Rose, with dignity,
for her visitor's patronizing manner ruffled her
temper.
Gracious, child you don't make friends of
those great boys, do you ? Mamma says she really
does n't think it's proper for you to be with them
so much."
They are like brothers, and my aunts do think
it's proper," replied Rose, rather sharply, for it
struck her that this was none of Miss Blish's busi-
ness.
I was merely going to say I should be glad to
have you for my bosom friend, for Hatty Mason
and I have had an awful quarrel, and don't speak.
She is too mean to live, so I gave her up. Just
think, she never paid back one of the caramels I've
given her, and never invited me to her party. I
could have forgiven the caramels, but to be left out
in that rude way was more than I could bear, and
I told her never to look at me again as long as she
lived."
You are very kind, but I don't think I want a
bosom friend, thank you," said Rose, as Ariadne
stopped to bridle and shake her flaxen head over
the delinquent Hatty Mason.
Now in her heart Miss Blish thought Rose "a
stuck-up puss," but the other girls wanted to know
her and could n't, the old house was a charming
place to visit, the lads were considered fine fellows,
and the Campbells are one of our first families,"
mamma said. So Ariadne concealed her vexation
at Rose's coolness, and changed the subject as fast
as possible.
Studying French, I see; who is your teacher?"
she asked, flirting over the leaves of "Paul and
Virginia," that lay on the table.
I don't study it, for I read French as well as
English, and uncle and I often speak it for hours.
He talks like a native, and says I have a remark-
ably good accent."


Rose really could not help this small display of
superiority, for French was one of her strong
points, and she was vain of it, though she usually
managed to, hide this weakness. She felt that
Ariadne would be the better for a little crushing,
and could not resist the temptation to patronize in
her turn.
Oh, indeed said Miss Blish, rather blankly,
for French was not her strong point by any means.
I am to go abroad with uncle in a year or two,
and he knows how important it is to understand
the languages. Half the girls who leave school
can't speak decent French, and when they go
abroad they are so mortified. I shall be very glad
to help you, if you like, for of course you have no
one to talk with at home."
Now Ariadne, though she looked like a wax doll,
had feelings within her instead of sawdust, and
these feelings were hurt by Rose's lofty tone. She
thought her more stuck up than ever, but did
not know how to bring her down, yet longed to do
it, for she felt as if she had received a box on the
ear, and involuntarily put her hand up to it. The
touch of an ear-ring consoled her, and sug-
gested a way of returning tit for tat in a telling
manner.
Thank you, dear; I don't need any help, for
our teacher is from Paris, and of course he speaks
better French than your uncle." Then she added,
with a gesture of her head that set the little bells in
her ears to tingling: How do you like my new
ear-rings ? Papa gave them to me last week, and
every one says they are lovely."
Rose came down from her high horse with a
rapidity that was comical, for Ariadne had the
upper hand now. Rose adored pretty things,
longed to wear them, and the desire,of her girlish
soul was to have her ears bored, only Dr. Alec
thought it foolish, so she never had done it. She
would gladly have given all the French she could
jabber for a pair of golden bells with pearl-tipped.
tongues, like those Ariadne wore; and, clasping
her hands, she answered, in a tone that went to the
hearer's heart:
They are too sweet for anything! If uncle
would only let me wear some, I should be perfectly
happy."
I would n't mind what he says. Papa laughed
at me at first, but he likes them now, and says I
shall have diamond solitaires when I am eighteen,"
said Ariadne, quite satisfied with her shot.
I've got a pair now that were mamma's, and
a beautiful little pair of pearl and turquoise ones,
that I am dying to wear," sighed Rose.
"Then do it. I'll pierce your ears, and you
must wear a bit of silk in them till they are well;
your curls will hide them nicely; then, some day,


EIGHT COUSINS.


[JULv,






EIGHT COUSINS.


slip in your smallest ear-rings, and see if your uncle
don't like them."
I asked him if it would n't do my eyes good
once when they were red, and he only laughed.
People do cure weak eyes that way, don't they ?"
"Yes, indeed, and yours are sort of red. Let
me see. Yes, I really think you ought to do it
before they get worse," said Ariadne, peering into
the large clear eye offered for inspection.
Does it hurt much ?" asked Rose, wavering.
0 dear no! just a prick and a pull, and its all
over. I've done lots of ears, and know just how.
Come, push up your hair and get a big needle."
I don't quite like to do it without asking
uncle's leave," faltered Rose, when all was ready
for the operation.
"Did he ever forbid it?" demanded Ariadne,
hovering over her prey like a vampire.
No, never "
Then do it, unless you are afraid," cried Miss
Blish, bent on accomplishing the deed.
That last word settled the matter, and, closing
her eyes, Rose said Punch in the tone of one
giving the fatal order Fire "
Ariadne punched, and the victim bore it in
heroic silence, though she turned pale and her eyes
were full of tears of anguish.
There I Now pull the bits of silk often, and
cold-cream your ears every night, and you '11 soon
be ready for the rings," said Ariadne, well pleased
with her job, for the girl who spoke French with
a fine accent" lay flat upon the sofa, looking as
exhausted as if she had had both ears cut off.
It does hurt dreadfully, and I know uncle wont
like it," sighed Rose, as remorse began to gnaw.
Promise not to tell, or I shall be teased to death,"
she added, anxiously, entirely forgetting the two
little pitchers gifted with eyes as well as ears, who
had been watching the whole performance from
afar.
"Never. Mercy me, what's that ?" and Ariadne
started as a sudden sound of steps and voices came
up from below.
It's the boys Hide the needle. Do my ears
show ? Don't breathe a word whispered Rose,
scrambling about to conceal all traces of their
iniquity from the sharp eyes of the clan.
Up they came, all in good order, laden with the
proceeds of a nutting expedition, for they always
reported to Rose and paid tribute to their queen in
the handsomest manner.
How many, and how big! We'll have a
grand roasting frolic after tea, wont we ?" said
Rose, plunging both hands into a bag of glossy
brown nuts, while the clan "stood at ease" and
nodded to Ariadne.
That lot was picked especially for you, Rosy.


1 got every one myself, and they are extra
whackers," said Mac, presenting a bushel or so.
You should have seen Giglamps when he was
after them. He pitched out of the tree, and would
have broken his blessed old neck if Arch had not
caught him," observed Steve, as he lounged grace-
fully in the window seat.
"You needn't talk, Dandy, when you didn't
know a chestnut from a beech, and kept on thrash-
ing till I told you of it," retorted Mac, festooning
himself over the back of the sofa, being a privileged
boy.
I don't make mistakes when I thrash you, old
Worm, so you'd better mind what you are about,"
answered Steve, without a ray of proper respect for
his elder brother.
It is getting dark, and I must go, or mamma
will be alarmed," said Ariadne, rising in sudden
haste, though she hoped to be asked to remain to
the nut-party.
No one invited her; and all the while she was
putting on her things and chatting to Rose, the
boys were telegraphing to one another the sad fact
that some one ought to escort the young lady
home. Not a boy felt heroic enough to cast him-
self into the breach, however; even polite Archie
shirked the duty, saying to Charlie, as they quietly
slipped into an adjoining room:
I 'm not going to do all the gallivanting. Let
Steve take that chit home and show his manners."
I'll be hanged if I do answered Prince, who
disliked Miss Blish because she tried to be coquet-
tish with him.
Then I will," and, to the dismay of both rec-
reant lads, Dr. Alec walked out of the room to
offer his services to the chit."
He was too late, however, for Mac, obeying a
look from Rose, had already made a victim of him-
self, and trudged meekly away, wishing the gentle
Ariadne at the bottom of the Red Sea.
Then I will take this lady down to tea, as the
other one has found a gentleman to go home with
her. I see the lamps are lighted below, and I
smell a smell which tells me that aunty has some-
thing extra nice for us to-night."
As he spoke, Dr. Alec was preparing to carry
Rose down-stairs as usual; but Archie and Prince
rushed forward, begging with penitent eagerness
for the honor of carrying her in an arm-chair.
Rose consented, fearing that her uncle's keen eye
would discover the fatal bits of silk; so the boys
crossed hands, and, taking a good grip of each
curly pate, she was borne down in state, while the
others followed by way of the banisters.
Tea was ordered earlier than usual, so that Jamie
and his dolly could have a taste, at least, of the
holiday fun, for they were to stay till seven, and be







EIGHT COUSINS.


allowed twelve roasted' chestnuts apiece, which
they were under bonds not to eat till next day.
Tea was dispatched rapidly, therefore, and the
party gathered round the wide hearth in the
dining-room, where the nuts were soon dancing
gayly on hot shovels or bouncing out among the
company, thereby causing delightful panics among
the little ones.
Come, Rosy, tell us a story while we work, for
you can't help much, and must amuse us as your


"Well, once upon a time, a little girl went
to see a young lady who was very fond of her.
Now the young lady happened to be lame and had
to have her foot bandaged up every day; so she
kept a basketful of bandages, all nicely rolled and
ready. The little girl liked to play with this
basket, and one day, when she thought no one saw
her, she took one of the rolls without asking leave,
and put it in her pocket."
Here Pokey, who had been peering lovingly


''' '': '' ~~~ ii 1*I' '


7' -7
ROSEIi j I i 'V SPECTATOSRS

.. .- -. .i



"'N -


ROSE AND ARIADNE HAVE SPECTP TORS


share," proposed Mac, who sat in the shade prick-
ing nuts, and who knew by experience what a
capital little Scheherazade his cousin was.
Yes, we poor monkeys can't burn our paws for
nothing, so tell away, Pussy," added Charlie, as he
threw several hot nuts into her lap and shook his
fingers afterward.
"Well, I happen to have a little story with a
moral to it in my mind, and I will tell it, though it
is intended for younger children than you," an-
swered Rose, who was rather fond of telling in-
structive tales.
"Fire away," said Geordie, and she obeyed,
little thinking what a disastrous story it would
prove to herself.


down at the five warm nuts that lay at the bottom
of her tiny pocket, suddenly looked up and said,
" Oh in a startled tone, as if the moral tale had
become intensely interesting all at once.
Rose heard and saw the innocent betrayal of the
small sinner, and went on in a most impressive
manner, while the boys nudged one another and
winked as they caught the joke.
But an eye did see this naughty little girl, and
whose eye do you think it was ? "
Eye of Dod," murmured conscience-stricken
Pokey, spreading two chubby little hands before
the round face which they were not half big enough
to hide.
Rose was rather taken aback by this reply, but,


536


[JULY,






EIGHT COUSINS.


feeling that she was producing a good effect, she
added, seriously :
Yes, God saw her, and so did the young lady,
but she did not say anything; she waited to see
what the little girl would do about it. She had
been very happy before she took the bandage, but
when it was in her pocket she seemed troubled,
and pretty soon stopped .playing and sat down in a
corner, looking very sober. She thought a few
minutes, and then went and put back the roll very
softly, and her face cleared up and she was a happy
child again. The young lady was glad to see that,
and wondered what made the little girl put it
back."
Tonscience picked her," murmured a contrite
voice from behind the small hands pressed tightly
over Pokey's red face.
And why did she take it, do you suppose ?"
asked Rose, in a school-marmish tone, feeling that
all the listeners were interested in her tale and its
unexpected application.
It was so nice and wound, and she wanted it
deffly," answered the little voice.
"Well, I'm glad she had such a good con-
science. The moral is that people who steal don't
enjoy what they take, and are not happy till they
put it back. What makes that little girl hide her
face ?" asked Rose, as she concluded.
Me 's so 'shamed of Pokey," sobbed the small
culprit, quite overcome by remorse and confusion
at this awful disclosure.-
Come, Rose, it's too bad to tell her little tricks
before every one, and preach at her in that way;
you would n't like it,yourself," began Dr. Alec,
taking the weeper on his knee and administering
consolation in the shape of kisses and nuts.
Before Rose could express her regret, Jamie,
who had been reddening and ruffling like a little
turkey-cock for several minutes, burst out indig-
nantly, bent on avenging the wound given to his
beloved dolly.
"I know something bad that you did, and I 'm
going to tell right out. You thought we did n't see
you, but we did, and you said uncle would n't like
it, and the boys would tease, and you made Ariadne
promise not to tell, and she punched holes in your
ears to put ear-rings in. So now! and that's much
badder than to take an old piece of rag; and I
hate you for making my Pokey cry."
Jamie's somewhat incoherent explosion produced
such an effect, that Pokey's small sin was instantly
forgotten, and Rose felt that her hour had come.
"What! what! what!" cried the boys in a
chorus, dropping their shovels and knives to gather


round Rose, for a guilty clutching at her ears be-
trayed her, and with a feeble cry of "Ariadne
made me !" she hid her head among the pillows
like an absurd little ostrich.
Now she '11 go prancing round with bird-cages
and baskets and carts and pigs, for all I know, in
her ears, as the other girls do, and wont she look
like a goose?" asked one tormentor, tweaking a
curl that strayed out from the cushions.
I did n't think she'd be so silly," said Mac, in
a tone of disappointment that told Rose she had
sunk in the esteem of her wise cousin.
That Blish girl is a nuisance, and ought not to
be allowed to come here with her nonsensical no-
tions," said the Prince, feeling a strong desire to
shake that young person as an angry dog might
shake a mischievous kitten.
"How do you like it, uncle?" asked Archie,
who, being the head of a family himself, believed
in preserving discipline at all costs.
I am very much surprised; but I see she is a
girl, after all, and must have her vanities like all
the rest of them," answered Dr. Alec, with a sigh,
as if he had expected to find Rose a sort of angel,
above all earthly temptation.
"What shall you do about it, sir?" inquired
Geordie, wondering what punishment would be in-
flicted on a feminine culprit.
"As she is fond of ornaments, perhaps we had
better give her a nose-ring also. I have one some-
where that a Fiji belle once wore; I '11 look it up,"
and, leaving Pokey to Jamie's care, Dr. Alec rose
as if to carry out his suggestion in earnest.
"Good good We 'll do it right away!
Here's a gimlet, so you hold her, boys, while I
get her dear little nose all ready," cried Charlie,
whisking away the pillows as the other boys danced
about the sofa in true Fiji style.
It was a dreadful moment, for Rose could not
run away,-she could only grasp her precious nose
with one hand and extend the other, crying dis-
tractedly: Oh, uncle, save me, save me "
Of course he saved her; and when she was
securely barricaded by his strong arm, she con-
fessed her folly in such humiliation of spirit, that
the lads, after a good laugh at her, decided to for-
give her and lay all the blame on the tempter,
Ariadne. Even Dr. Alec relented so far as to pro-
pose two gold rings for the ears instead of one
copper one for the nose; a proceeding which
proved that if Rose had all the weakness of her sex
for jewelry, he had all the inconsistency of his in
giving a pretty penitent exactly what she wanted,
spite of his better judgment.


(To be continued.)


VOL. II.-35.


537


~






MASTER TOTO'S CANARY.


MASTER TOTO'S CANARY.

BY SARAH D. CLARK.

MASTER TOTO struck hard on the wires,
When up flew the little cage door,
And, quick as a wink, or canary-bird's blink,
Little William tripped out on the floor.
Then off through the window he flew,
Singing, Up with the sun and the dew,
I am off and away, for a long holiday-
Ho ho little man,
Catch me, if you can !"

The roses grew red in the bower,
The hollyhocks bloomed every one;
The gay spider threads, like gossamer shreds,
With brightest dew glanced in the sun.
The lords and the ladies, they listened,
Their eyes like the great dewdrops glistened-
Surely never was heard such a wonderful bird,
No robin nor sparrow is he,
Trilling out from the tall alder-tree.

But holidays come to an end,
The beautiful Summer had fled,
With the long, long night came frost-work and blight,
And the flowers were drooping and dead;
Not a bird nor a bee in the air,
The fields were all withered and bare;
Though a brave little lad, Master Toto was sad
For his poor little bird that was lost
Out in the cold and the frost.

The hen-hawk swooped down from the sky,
The squirrel was ready to spring;
With a shiver of dread, our young William's head
Went under one stiff little wing.
All crumpled his soft yellow breast,
He longed for some shelter of rest;
With his fun and his play, and his long holiday,
He had nothing to eat,
And no perch for his feet.

He wanted his snug little home-
So off with a penitent trill,
Where his seeds, golden bright, shone out in the light,
He pecked at the gay window-sill,
Calling out, I would like to engage
Apartments in one little cage-
I am getting too wise and too old, to be out in the frost and the cold;
Master Toto, once more,
Please to open the door!"


538


[JULY,







HOW THE GRASSHOPPERS CAME.


HOW THE GRASSHOPPERS CAME.

BY A NEBRASKA WOMAN.


I WISH to tell the readers of ST. NICHOLAS a
story about the Great American Desert, where the
grasshoppers made such a fearful raid last Sum-
mer.
When you see the little creatures hopping harm-
lessly about in the grass, you can think of what a
power for evil they possess when they gather to-
gether in such armies as those which overran our
part of the country last year.
The weather was intensely warm here all last
season, and for thirty days within the space of six
weeks the thermometer ranged from 10 to 116.
It was during this heat in the latter part of July
that our Swede girl, Selma, said she must go home
to care for her aged mother. Pete and Polly, our
two mules, were harnessed to the express wagon in
the early morning, and a pleasant little company
of us started out to take Selma home.
Our road lay up the banks of a clear winding
stream, on each side of which our industrious
Swede neighbors have settled, and turned over the
virgin soil of this "Garden of the Desert," upon
which appeared fields of waving grain.
We had not ridden far before Pete and Polly, who
had been whisking their long ears very contentedly,
began to lay them back and toss their heads into the
air. As they tossed them higher and higher, we
noticed that a grasshopper came at intervals with a
bounce into our laps or hit our hands and faces,
and the farther we went north the more frequently
their whizz and click assailed our ears, or their sharp
wings struck our noses, till we sympathized with our
restless mules. Soon we noticed the little brown
bodies and gray wings lying in piles along the
shady side of our track, and that the green leaves
of the corn hung like slit ribbons swaying in the
breeze; and farther on there was here and there a
field that had been planted on the sod where noth-
ing but the stalk was left, and we said, See what
the grasshoppers have been doing."
We set Selma down at her door, and turned
toward home, wondering if the grasshoppers were
going to do much harm.
The season had been unusually dry, as well as
warm, and for that reason the small grain, though
very light, was ready for the reaper, or already cut.
Soon after the harvesters had repaired to the
field that afternoon, the cry was heard, The
grasshoppers have fallen upon the corn-fields."
Then we knew we had met the scouting party in


the morning, and that, by some wonderful insect
power, they had telegraphed to the main body the
news of our rich fields.
We had a corn-field of twenty acres, that was the
pride of our foreman, and pronounced the most
luxuriant of any for miles up and down the valley.
The destroyers were at work upon it, but the men,
hoping to save a part, left their harvest and built
fires all along the rows. They whipped and
switched and smoked, running from one part of the
field to the other in the heat, but it was all of no
avail. The little invaders ate on, and at night
nothing was left of our boasted corn-field but the
tall bare stalks, looking like bean-poles.
The Indian women had corn and bean patches
near us, and when they came and saw their work
all destroyed they wept and moaned, and said,
"God is not pleased, or He would not send the
grasshoppers to eat what we need."
The next day the raiders came to our gardens,
and though we covered the plants with barrels and
boxes and sheets, though we smoked and whipped
and brushed, hoping to save some vegetables, they
seemed to laugh at our dismay, and kept steadily
at work, even eating our onions and red pepper-
stalks down to the ground.
They stripped young fruit-trees of their leaves
and gnawed our shrubbery and flowers till there
was no green thing left to cover the brown earth,
and then they mounted our shade trees, and the
ground was soon covered with falling leaves.
The heat was intensified by the presence of such
a mass of animal matter, and our nights, usually
so cool, were hot and uncomfortable. The un-
wonted sound of the rustling of millions of wings
caused the dogs to howl dolefully, and a vague
terror began to steal over our hearts.
Near nightfall of-the third day of the presence
of the foe, a brisk breeze blew from the north.
Our neighbor Keturah came to our door, and said,
"Do you see how the smoke is rising on every
side of us ?"
We could see from ten to twenty miles in any
direction, and all about us were pyramidal columns
of smoke, as we thought, rising toward the heavens.
"How is it," we asked, "that these great masses
of smoke appear simultaneously at every point?"
And as we gazed and saw them slowly grow blacker
and rise higher, an indefinable dread of some fear-
ful coming took possession of us.


187S.]







HOW THE GRASSHOPPERS CAME.


540


Two of our number were out taking a gallop on
their ponies. On their return they said, Did you
see the grasshoppers rise? We heard a sound like
a rushing wind, and thought we were riding into
the edge of a whirlwind (such as are often seen
here, carrying pyramids of dust and sand many
feet from the earth), "but, looking a moment, saw
the grasshoppers going up in cloud-like masses,
and they passed off south."
Ah! that was the grasshoppers, and we
thought it smoke!" we exclaimed; and immedi-
ately the weight was lifted from our hearts. Some
grasshoppers were left near our buildings, but they
were merely going to rest for the night, and by
noon next day very few were to be seen. In just
one week from the day of their first arrival, a great
shower of grasshoppers fell again, and began to
devour what the others had left. One corn-field
which the others had left in part, and which still
promised a small harvest, was attacked by these
later marauders, and our last hope for corn that
season soon vanished.
Our shade-trees were entirely stripped of their
leaves, the netting screens in our doors and win-
dows hung in tatters, and the greedy millions made
their way into our houses to devour plants which
we thought hidden from their insatiate little jaws.
They ate holes in clothing, in curtains, and in pin-
cushions, and I heard of one woman who found the
draught of her stove clogged with grasshoppers,
they having fallen down the pipe in such numbers
as to fill it.
The houses and fences soon were black with the














f ~; ,
S' ^ WL '


millions of these insects. We could not even see the
bark on the trees because of. the myriads of wings,
and we beheld the result of the labor of many hands
-a blank before us. We sat in awed silence, feeling
we were in the presence of that Power which can
bar the raging waves of the sea with little grains of
sand and send an army of little insects to bring to
naught the boasted work of man.
The third day after their arrival, clouds flitted
across the sun at intervals, screening us from its
intense heat, and toward night a company of us,
daughters of these prairies, dragged our really ex-
hausted selves to the river, hoping to find a little
refreshment by a bath. We were scarcely in the
water before we were startled by a crash, a peal,
and then a rushing wind. Peering over the high
northern bank, we saw a black cloud driven furi-
ously up toward the zenith, and at the same time
the sun burst from under a dark veil in the west,
revealing to our eyes a scene of wonder. Myriads
upon myriads of little wings were flashing like
specks of silver in the sunlight, not only as far as
the eye could reach, east, west, and south, but as
far as we could see into the air above us, and we
knew the grasshoppers were driven again before
the north wind.
When our bath was finished, very few of them
were left to annoy us as we returned home, and
great was our relief and joy to have them gone.
But we did not look forward to the want which has
oppressed so many hearts, and to the relief of
which so many of the readers of ST. NICHOLAS
have, no doubt, contributed.








/ _






--- -... --.L t


OUR FLAG IN 1775 AND


[JULY,


IN 1875.







ROSES. 54'


ROSES.


BY LILY DE SOZIA WOOD.


-0 many beautiful and useful
things come to us from
Eastern countries, that it is
hard to say what is most val-
uable to us; but I expect, if
the young folks were asked
what they liked best that
comes from Persia, they
would not say the fine silks,
or splendid carpets, or even
the exquisite shawls made
there, but the peaches and
the lovely damask roses !
The Persians, compared
with their neighbors, the
Turks and Egyptians, are a lively people, but
we would call them quiet, and even sad, because
their gayety is so different from ours, and their
manners are more grave and dignified. But they
are fond of amusements, and one of their yearly
festivals is the Feast of the Roses," which takes
place during the Rose season, which is June, July,
and indeed the greater part of the Summer. I will
try to tell you something about it.
The climate being very warm, the people live
much out of doors, and during this feast tents are
pitched; every one wears his or her prettiest dresses,
and, as all Eastern people are fond of bright colors,
the scene is a very gay one.
During this festival everything betokens mirth
and enjoyment. The cymbals and lute are heard
from morning till night, the story-tellers recount
their most beautiful tales, and the dancing-girls
dance for hours at a time. Then, when the night
comes, and the moonlight covers everything like a
silver cloud, the people stretch themselves on their
soft carpets and listen to the songs of the nightin-
gales and soft serenades on the women's lutes.
In some parts of Turkey whole fields of roses are
cultivated, from which the Turks make the famous
" attar of roses," which is so fragrant that a vessel
or anything touched with a drop of it seems never
to lose the smell; and the Hindoos scatter rose-
leaves in the water they drink to give it a pleasant
appearance.
There are more than two hundred kinds of roses,
and they are of all sizes, from the tiny Picayune
rose," so called because it is no larger than a five-
cent-piece,-which, in the South, is called a pica-
yune,-to the immense cabbage-rose; of all shades
of color, bright yellow, pink, red, and almost


black. The Rose of Damascus, or damask rose,
is the one first brought to this country, and is a
very deep red, with a strong perfume. Then there
are the Egyptian sea-roses, tea-roses, rock-roses,
which grow in dry, rocky places, where no other
flower can live; and the Alpine rose, growing by
the eternal snow-drifts of the Alps.
Roses are hardy plants, and will live a long time,
if properly cared for. There is a rose-tree in Ger-
many, which is known to be eight hundred years
old, and it is still blossoming.
We all know and love the pretty moss-rose, with
its mossy, green veil, that gives it such a shy,
modest air; and the tea-rose, which, in the South
and West, grows on large trees. The writer had,
in her garden in Arkansas, one which grew to be
over seven feet high, and would bear.as many as
five hundred blossoms at once.
But there is one rose more curious than all the
others-the Rose of Jericho. It has another name
which botanists call it, that is, Anastatica, a Greek
word, meaning resurrection; and the Arabs call it
the symbol of immortality, because it comes to life
again long after it has seemed to be dead. It lives
in the hot sands of the Desert of Sahara, and when
the dry season comes it withers, folds its leaves, and
draws up its roots, like little feet, into a light ball,
and the winds of the desert carry it until it reaches
a moist soil, and then, we are told, it drops, takes
root, and its leaves become green, and its blossoms
open, a delicate pink.
There is a flower in Mexico, known as the Resur-
rection Flower, which is very much the same. It
may be carried about in your pocket for a year and
more, and yet, when put into a saucer of water, in
a few hours will blossom out as bright and fresh as
if it had just come out of the garden.
When the Romans conquered Britain, more than
eighteen hundred years ago, they introduced many
curious customs into that country,-among others,
that of carving the figure of a rose on the ceilings
of their banqueting-halls, or suspending a natural
rose over the dining-table, with the Latin motto,
" Sub rosa," written above it, to indicate that what-
ever was said there among friends, or under the
rose,-for that was the meaning of the words,-
should not be repeated, the white rose being the
symbol of silence.
The rose is the national emblem of England, as
the thistle is of Scotland, and the shamrock, or
clover, of Ireland. Every one who has studied


ROSES.


541








AMERICAN ORATORS. [Jtn~,


history knows of the Wars of the Roses in Eng-
land, when the two rival families of York and
Lancaster fought for the English crown, the house
of York having for its badge the white rose, and
the house of Lancaster the red.
Many of my young readers have heard of the
language of flowers, in which people can hold con-
versations with each other; for instance : A white
rose is the emblem of silence; a withered rose of
.any color means, "Let us forget; and a yellow
rose, Despair," and so on. A rose handed to a


person means one thing when handed upright, an-
other when its position is reversed. With its thorns
it has a certain meaning; without them, still an-
other. Among these Eastern people-the Persians,
Turks, and Hindoos-this language of flowers is so
perfectly understood that, by means of a bunch of
their favorite roses, long conversations may be
carried on without a word being spoken. This
suits these people, who do not like to talk very
much, but who are, nevertheless, a very romantic,
dreamy, and poetic race.


AMERICAN ORATORS.

BY WILLIAM H. RIDING.


WE are a nation of speakers, and have a speech
ready for every occasion, whether it be a public
dinner, a political mass-meeting, or a Fourth of
July celebration. Our English cousins are aston-
ished at the general fluency and confidence we
exhibit; for while they possess some of the wittiest
and most learned masters of debate living, the gift
of public talking is not common among them.
Of course, talking is no more like real oratory
than a pot of paint is like art; and a good many
Americans have never found out the difference.
The high-flown words of the patriot who de-
claims to his fellow-countrymen on the Fourth of
July are often nonsensical and meaningless. Who,
to his mortification, has not heard much rubbish
spoken from "the stump" in rural villages ? But
we have an unusual number of bright, eloquent,
sensible speakers withal, and in the hundred years
past we have produced some of the greatest orators
the world has known,-real orators, mind you, who
had a wonderful power of filling multitudes of in-
telligent men and women with fear, hope, courage,
dismay, and horror in turn; orators who could,
with passionate words alone, drive a populace to
war and restore it to a love of peace in a few
brief moments.
It is scarcely necessary for me to tell you who
these great orators were. All of you have heard
of Patrick Henry, Henry Clay, Daniel Webster,
John C. Calhoun, Edward Everett, and Rufus
Choate. These are some notable representatives
of our orators,-I cannot mention all,-and I have
collected a few anecdotes about them, which may,
perhaps, interest you at this season.
Boys who do not love study, and would rather


fish and swim on a Summer's afternoon than pore
over First Lessons in Latin, may find much conso-
lation in the life of Patrick Henry.
He was born on a Virginia farm in 1736, and
was as fine a specimen of the ne'er-do-well as could
be found in his. county. His person was ugly, his
manners were awkward, and his dress was slovenly.


PATRICK HENRY.
When the hour for study came he was usually
absent, and was to be found in the woods with his
gun, or by the river with his fishing-rod. But at
the age of fifteen he was installed behind the
counter of a merchant, and a year afterward began
business for himself in partnership with his brother


[JU-Y,


AMER~ICAN ORATORS.


~
I~~aP~-l_





j






AMERICAN ORATORS.


William. The firm failed in a short time, and
Patrick then tried farming, in which he also failed.
Opening another store, he again became a bank-
rupt, and at last sought relief for his disappoint-
ment in reading classical books.
With only a smattering of law, he obtained a
license to practice in the courts; and one day a
case was intrusted to him which was so hopeless
that no other lawyer would accept it. As he arose
to make the opening address the spectators laughed
at him, and his father, who presided on the bench,
was overcome with confusion.
But before he had spoken many words those who
had laughed were struck with amazement at the
eloquence he displayed, and listened to him in
death-like silence. They were fascinated by the
spell of his eyes, the majesty of his attitudes, the
commanding expression of his face, and as he con-
cluded, tears of joy rolled down his father's face.
The case was won, and the name of Patrick Henry
became known far and wide as that of a great
orator.
But he was no more inclined to study after his
success than before, and instead of improving his
manners and dress he took great delight in their
plainness, and would often come into court attired
in a coarse hunting jacket, greasy leather breeches,
and with a pair of saddle-bags under his arm.
While he remained in his seat he was a shuffling,
independent-looking farmer, but when he arose
and spoke his body seemed to burn with passion.
The intense force of his words is shown by an
incident which occurred during a speech describ-
ing the effects of the adoption of the present Con-
stitution of the United States, in which he looked
beyond the horizon that binds mortal eyes, to
those celestial beings who were hovering over the
scene, anxiously waiting for a decision which in-
volved the happiness or misery of the whole human
race." To those celestial beings he made an ap-
peal that caused the nerves of all who listened to
him to shake with horror, and as his passion was
at its height a terrible thunder-storm rumbled
without, and the members rushed from the legis-
lative chamber in terror.
Henry Clay was almost worshiped by his adher-
ents. He was born in 1777, and was a very tall
man, straight and slim as an arrow. And here you
must remember that command of words alone does
not make an orator. There are some speakers
whose language is carefully chosen and whose
thoughts are beautiful; yet these are not orators.
They have not the passionate, thrilling voice nor
the mastering presence that gave Mr. Clay his
great power over an audience. It has been said
that, in listening to him, you were reminded of his
intellect only, that seemed to shine through his thin


flesh. As he spoke every muscle of his face was at
work, and his whole body was agitated. He did
not use many words, but they were to the point,
and spoken grandly.
John Randolph, of Roanoke, spoke scornfully in
Congress one day of Mr. Clay's language.







W .

-- I
.. -- -.. ..


HENRY CLAY.
"The gentleman from Virginia," said Mr. Clay
in reply, was pleased to declare that, in one point
of my speech, he agreed with me,-in an humble
estimate of my command of words. I know my
deficiency. I was born to no proud patrimonial
estate of my father. I inherited only infancy,
ignorance, and indigence. I feel my defects; but
so far as my situation in early life is concerned I
may, without presumption, say they are more my
misfortune than my fault. But, however I may
deplore my inability to furnish the gentleman with
a better specimen of my powers of verbal criticism,
I will venture to say my regret is not greater than
the disappointment the members of Congress feel
as to the strength of his argument on the question
before us."
Thus he managed to vindicate his origin and to
turn the laugh against his antagonist in one breath.
Mr. Clay's knowledge of human nature was
thorough and profound; and he was able to put it
to use at any moment, as the following anecdotes
will show:
On a certain occasion he met an old hunter, who
had once been his supporter, but who afterward
went against him on account of his vote on a cer-
tain bill in Congress.
"Have you a good rifle, my friend?" he asked
of the hunter.
SYes."
"Does it ever flash in the pan ?"


l875.]






AMERICAN ORATORS.


"It never did so more than once," the hunter
answered, proud of his weapon.
Well, what did you do with it? You did n't
throw it away, did you ? continued Mr. Clay.


o. -- --




.









S--- "'"




EDWARD EVERETT.
No; I picked the flint, tried it again, and
brought down game."
Have I ever flashed in the pan, except on the
Compensation bill?"
No, I can't say you have."
Well, will you throw me away ?"
"No; I'll pick the flint and try you again."
So the hunter grasped Mr. Clay's hand and gave
him his vote.
At another time Clay was visiting a backwoods
county in Kentucky, where the man who could fire
the best shot stood highest in esteem, and the man
who could n't fire at all was looked upon with con-
tempt. He was canvassing for votes, when he was
approached by some old hunters, one of whom told
him that he would be elected to Congress, but
that he must first show how good a shot he was.
Clay declared that he never shot with any rifle ex-
cept his own, which was at home.
No matter. Here's 'Old Bess,'" answered
the hunter, giving him a gun, "and she never
fails in the hands of a marksman. She 's put a
bullet through many a squirrel at a hundred yards,
and has let daylight through a red-skin at twice
that distance. If you can shoot with any gun, you
can shoot with Old Bess.' "
A target was set up, and Mr. Clay aimed Old
Bess at it. He fired faint-heartedly, but the shot
struck the bull's-eye in the center.
A chance shot I a chance shot! cried his op-
ponents.


"Never mind," he answered. "You beat it,
and then I will."
.No one could beat it, and Mr. Clay had too
much sense to try again.
In appearance and manner, Edward Everett was
almost the exact opposite of Patrick Henry, and
even more elegant and refined than Henry Clay.
He was very polished, and his voice was clear and
sweet; but his orations were not so powerful.
They were beautiful compositions, that read well in
a book, and were not a bit like the wild-fire utter-
ances that burst from the Virginian.
Rufus Choate was also a man of great eloquence,
and it is said that he would plead a case with the
earnestness of one whose life and character were at
stake. He was a lawyer by profession, and at an
early age distinguished himself as an advocate.
Mr. Whipple has written of him: "His legal
arguments were replete with knowledge, and blazed
with the blended fires of imagination and sensibility,
which swept along the minds of his hearers on the
torrent of his eloquence." He was fanciful and
humorous, too.
On one occasion a witness testified that he had
found one of Mr. Choate's clients crying, and that
when the witness asked him what was the matter,
he answered that he was afraid that he had struck
on a snag." Mr. Choate translated this testimony
as follows: Such were my client's feelings, and
such his actions, down to the fatal night, when, at


' -
,-C -'.


RUFUS CHOATE.

ten o'clock, in that flood of tears, his hopes went
out like a candle."
In March, 1844, he delivered a famous speech,
and thus alluded to a statement that the American


544


[JuLv,






AMERICAN' ORATORS.


JOHN C. CALHOUN.

people cherished a feeling of deep-rooted hatred to
Great Britain.
"No, sir; we are above all this. Let the High-
land clansman, half-naked, half-civilized, half-
blinded by the peat-smoke of his cavern, have his
hereditary enemy, and his hereditary enmity, and
keep the keen, deep, and precious hatred alive if
he can; let the North American Indian have his,
and hand it down from father to son, by Heaven
knows what symbol of alligators, rattle-snakes, and
war-clubs smeared with vermilion; let such a
country as Poland, cloven to the earth, the armed
heel on her radiant forehead, her body dead, her
soul incapable of death,-let her remember her
wrongs of the days long past; let the lost and
wandering tribes of Israel remember theirs,-the
manliness and sympathy of the world may allow
or pardon this to them; but shall America, young,
free and prosperous, just setting out on the high-
way of heaven, decorating and cheering the ele-
vated sphere she just begins to move in *
shall she pollute and corrode her noble and happy
heart by moping over old stories of wrongs ? *
No, sir; no, sir; a thousand times no We are
born to happier feelings. We have, we can have
no barbarian memory of wrongs for which brave
men have made the last expiation to -the brave! "
But no extract, nor the oration printed in full,
can give an idea of the stirring effect which the
music of the living voice gave to the vivid words.
I have left myself so little space that I cannot do
more than mention Calhoun, who was born in
1782, and was an exceedingly brilliant speaker.
In the same year Daniel Webster was born, and
with a few anecdotes about him I must conclude.


In appearance he was tall and ugly. His head
was large, and his face set with great black eyes.
The words he spoke came up from his broad chest
with such emphasis that it has been said that
each of them seemed to weigh at least twelve
pounds.
Like Henry, he could entrance an audience and
hold them spell-bound by his eloquence. When
his speech was over," one writer says, "the tones
of the orator still lingered in the ear, and the
people, unconscious of its close, retained their posi-
tions. The'agitated face, the heaving breast, the
suffused eye attested its influence. There was not a
movement or a whisper for several minutes, when a
sharp rap of the chairman's hammer broke the
charm that Mr. Webster had wound about them."
One of his best orations was made in answer to
a Colonel Hayne, who generously congratulated
Webster on his effort.
"And how do you feel this evening, Colonel?"
Webster asked.
"None the better for your speech, sir," an-
swered his opponent.
You understand, of course, that a great orator
must have a mind quick to seize upon apt similes.
Alluding to Alexander Hamilton, Webster said, in
an after-dinner speech, He smote the rock of pub-
lic credit, and streams of revenue gushed forth." As


DANIEL WEBSTER.
if to illustrate this, he brought his clenched fist
down upon the table, and in doing so he struck a
wine-glass, which broke and cut his hand. He
slowly covered the wound with his napkin, which
suggested a shroud, and then continued: "He
touched the dead corpse of public credit, and it
rose upon its feet." Thus he made himself master
of the situation.


545


''*^~







A GREAT SPECULATION. IJULY,


TOTTY'S ARITHMETIC.


By E. S. F.


ONE little head, worth its whole weight in gold,
Over and over, a million times told.

Two shining eyes, full of innocent glee,
Brighter than diamonds ever could be.

Three pretty dimples, for fun to slip in,
Two in the cheeks and one in the chin.

Four lily fingers on each baby-hand,
Fit for a princess of sweet Fairy-land.

Five on each hand, if we reckon Tom Thumb,
Standing beside them, so stiff and so glum !


Six pearly teeth just within her red lips,
Over which merriment ripples and trips.

Seven bright ringlets, as yellow as gold,
Seeming the sunshine to gather and hold.

Eight tiny waves running over her hair,
Sunshine and shadow, they love to be there.

Nine precious words that Totty can say;
But she will learn new ones every day.

Ten little chubby, comical toes;
And that is as far as this lesson goes.


A GREAT SPECULATION.

BY ROSSITER JOHNSON.


uncle, who was a great
reader and traveler,
came to his nephew's
S home one day for a
short visit, and during
his stay he talked a
: i fi'' good deal about the
Mammoth Cave in
i.:-ircky, which he had re-
,. :t,- been to see, describing
," ..r.iirely the approach to the
:,e, the winding passages, the
nr :it'rious rivers, the eyeless
,-h. and the crystals and stal-
Sacices. Tommy was lost in
admiration.
Wishing to teach him as much as possible, and
to have him remember what he had learned, his
father, after his uncle had gone, continued the
subject, telling him about other celebrated caves-
Wier's Cave and Madison's Cave, in Virginia;
Franconia, in Germany; Kirkdale, in England;
and Fingal's, in Staffa. Then he told him about
celebrated artificial excavations-the catacombs of
Paris, Rome, Syracuse, and Palermo; and, finally,
he described some of the discoveries at Hercula-


neum and Pompeii, and in the mounds of our
Western States. When he had fully awakened
Tommy's interest and curiosity, he told him in
what books he could find more information on
these subjects, and then left him to study them up
for himself.
Tommy and I were, one day, in his father's yard
at the point where the sward began to slope toward
the brook, a tributary to Rocky Creek. We sat on
a large bowlder, with our feet hanging over the
edge, looking down into the little valley of the
brook, and he repeated what his father and his
uncle had told him about the caves and the cata-
combs and Herculaneum and the mounds.
I wish," said he, that the mouth of one of
'em was in our yard."
Yes," said I, that would be nice. Then we
could go in and see all the curiosities and get as
many crystals and vases and arrows and hatchets
as we wanted."
My fancy included the products of all the different
kinds of caves and excavations in the one which
was to be in Tommy's yard; but perhaps it was
just as well,-certainly it was all the more enjoy-
able.
But that would n't be the best of it," said he.
"Why, what would?" I asked.


546


A GREAT SPECULATION.


[JLYr,






1875s. A GREAT SPECULATION. 547


We could put up a gate, and charge folks for
going in," he answered, and his eyes twinkled over
his imaginary profits.
Could we ?" said I, incredulously.
Of course I could," said he; and the singular
pronoun signified to me that he was growing ava-
ricious, and no longer wanted me for a partner in
the business.
I began to wish that the cave had been located
in our yard, instead of in theirs. I thought if it
had been, I would teach Tommy a lesson of mag-
nanimous liberality by dividing the money with
him every Saturday night.
You always have to pay to go into such places,"
he continued; and it's the easiest way to get rich
there is. You just put up a little sign that says:
'This way to the Cave i' and a hand pointing.
And then it's a long distance, and the path is
crooked and real hard to walk on, and you leave
all the stones and bushes and old rubbish in it.
And when the people get to the end of it, there
you are, sitting by a little table with a box on it for
the money; and they've got to pay you twenty-
five cents, or fifty perhaps, before they can go in,
because the cave's on your land. And some of
'em say they wont give it; and then they think
about the hard, stony path, and they say it's too
bad to come over all that for nothing, and then
they pay the money and go in. And you have
some little books on the table, that tell all about it,
and you sell 'em one of them for ten cents, or else
they can't understand it; and there you make
some more money."
Tommy was growing very enthusiastic on the
subject, and I was catching a little of the. same
spirit.
I wish we had a cave," said I.
"Yes," said the speculative Tommy, "I could
sit at the little table and take the money,.and you
could go with the folks to show 'em the way and
tell 'em about things. Some of 'em have rivers in
'em, that have fish in 'em without any eyes; and
you have to row the people across in a boat, and
you charge 'em extra for that."
I had an idea. Suppose we make a cave?"
Could we ?" said Tommy.
"We could try," said I, remembering that some-
body or other had once given that as a very heroic
answer, which had made him famous. And now,
what if the same answer, given in the same spirit,
should make Tommy and me rich 1
How should we do it ?" he asked.
"Oh, dig it said I, as confidently as if I had
been a journeyman cave-maker half my life, and
were ready to take Tommy for my apprentice.
"Where would we have it?" said he, looking
around.


"I don't know; let's look for a good place,"
said I, and I slid down the face of the rock, followed
by the little fortune-hunter.
We surveyed the whole yard, and very quickly
concluded that the entrance must be somewhere
along the bank of the creek. At a certain point a
few yards below, in the direction of down stream,
the bank, instead of descending in a grassy slope,
fell off suddenly, and presented an almost perpen-
dicular face of clay, on which no grass grew. It
was evident that this was the place to begin opera-
tions, if we were to make a cave. We had nothing
to do but dig straight in at the base of the cliff;
and we could throw the dirt into the stream, and
the water would wash it away out of sight about as
fast as we two boys could dig it. This would pre-
vent the work from being discovered, unless some
one should happen to go down the bank and ap-
proach closely to the mouth of the proposed cave.
I asked Tommy what he thought his father would
say as to the cave.
"I guess," said he, "he would n't want me to
do it, if he knew. But when he sees the money,
he'll say it's all right."
It can't hurt anything, at any rate," said I, be-
ginning to fear that if he thought too much about
what his father would say, he might give up the
project.
"No," said he, "it can't hurt anything. We
can throw the dirt over into the brook, and not
make a bit of muss. And then it '11 be all under-
ground, and the ground on top '11 be just as good
for a garden or anything as ever 't was."
"And then," I pursued, "when we get a hun-
dred dollars, we can make our fathers and mothers
a present of half of it "-for I still had a vague fear
that, in some unsuspected manner, the cave might
interfere with some of Mr. Baker's plans.
But Tommy did n't know .about making any
such munificent presents. It was n't the way
people usually did when they got rich. He prom-
ised, however, to-think about it.
One thing was certain. We must keep the whole
matter a profound secret-that was agreed upon.
And we would begin operations the very next day
-that also was agreed upon, I stood before the
face of the clay cliff, and with a sharp stick marked
the arched outline of the entrance to the cave that
was to be.
We got together again in the evening, alone in
Mrs. Baker's kitchen, and used up several sheets
of paper in drawing plans for the cave.
We must have some parts of it very crooked,"
said I.
"Yes, and in one place there must be quite a
large room, with stalakites hanging down from-the
top," said Tommy.







A GREAT SPECULATiON. [JULY,


"0 yes I stalactites," said I, intending to correct
him very gently.
It's stalakites," said he; "my Uncle Charles
said so."
I was sure I was right, and was not inclined to
let it go so. We came very near falling into a
serious quarrel on the subject, and giving up the
project. At length we agreed to leave it to the
dictionary, which the confident Tommy brought,
and looked out the word.
Well, stalactites," said he, "if you must have
it so; and then he hurried on to the consideration
of other parts of the plan. If we could strike a
stream of water underground it would be nice," he
continued. "There 's one runs right through the
bottom of our well."
"Perhaps we can dig a pond and pour some
water into it," I suggested, "and catch some fish
in Rocky Creek to put into it."
Put their eyes out first ? asked Tommy.
"No," said I, "that would be cruel. Besides,
after they 've been there awhile their eyes will go
away, and their little fishes will be born blind."
Tommy saw that I considered the subject from a
lofty point, both in morals and in science, and he
was much impressed.
' What I want," said he, after musing a few
minutes on these weighty questions, "is a few
skulls, so it'll look like the catacombs. And that'll
scare the boys, and make 'em not try to get in
when we aint there."
"There's a horse's skull on the common," I
suggested.
I suppose we can't get human skulls," said he.
I suppose not."
"Then may be, if we put the horse's skull pretty
high up, and stick the long nose-part deep into the
wall, it 'll look like a human skull, and we can
make 'em think 't is."
May be so."
But then," said he, the teeth ought to show.
The teeth are the scariest part of a skull."
That's so," said I, emphatically; and I imme-
diately gave my whole mind to the solution of the
problem how to make a horse's skull look like a
human skull, and yet have the teeth show. I
solved it at last. "I have it! I have it! provided
we can get two horses' skulls," and I stopped in
doubt on that question.
0 yes," said Tommy; "we can get two easy
enough."
Well, then, we 'll fix one as you say, with the
long nose-part in the wall, and close to it we '11 fix
the other so that it will be all buried up in the wall
except the mouth, which will stick out and show its
teeth. The first one will make folks think they're
human, and the other will scare 'em-a little; we


don't want to scare 'em too much." Thus we
agreed to arrange it.
Tommy put the finishing touches to the last plan
we had drawn, and made quite conspicuous the
table at the entrance, with the money-box on it.
Then I went home, and we both went to bed,-
not so much to sleep as to lie awake and think
about the cave and its profits.
Early next morning, with a shovel and a hoe and
a light crowbar, we went to work. With an old
nail-keg to stand on while working at the upper
part of the arch, we got along very well. Before
school-time we had dug more than a foot into the
bank, and thrown the dirt, a shovelful at a time,
into the brook. We were tired enough to be per-
fectly willing to leave off work in good season for
school. But our enthusiasm was growing, and we
longed for vacation to come, that we might give
our whole time to the task.
After school we worked again until supper-time;
and the close of that first day saw the completion
of the first two feet of the tunnel.
How much shall we charge?" said I, as we
took a last look at the hollow arch, before going
home to our well-earned rest.
I never heard of a cave that you could go into,
and all through, for less than twenty-five cents,"
said Tommy.
That ought to be cheap enough, certainly,"
said I.
Yes," said he, we must charge a quarter of
a dollar; and no half-price for children, and no
free passes to anybody."
No," said I, "no free passes. But shall we
admit children at all? They 'll meddle with things,
and may be break something. They're awful
troublesome."
Admit 'em if they pay," said the business-like
Tommy. This seemed to settle the matter, and
we walked away in silence.
But," said I, when we had reached the top of
the bank, "not many of the boys that we know
have got twenty-five cents. They never have so
much, except on Fourth of July."
"Then let 'em sell something and raise the
money," he answered, knowing that he had the
monopoly of the cave market.
But," I suggested, what if they wont ?"
Tommy took a few minutes to consider that
question. It put the matter in a new light. He
began to realize that the boys were under no obli-
gation, and might not be at all anxious, to pay
tribute to the money-box on the little table where
he already imagined himself sitting at the receipt
of custom.
I guess," said he, slowly, we shall have to let
them in for about five cents apiece."


A GREAT SPECULATION.


(JULY,







A GREAT SPECULATION.


I think that will be the best way," I answered;
and then we parted for the night.
The next day was Saturday, and we gave the
whole time to the work. In order to lose as little
as possible, we brought our dinners; but long be-
fore noon we became fiercely hungry and ate all
our provisions, and two hours later we went home
for more.
By tea-time, Saturday, we had penetrated two
yards into the bank, rounding the arch out com-
pletely all the way, and throwing all the dirt over
into the brook, which was here pretty swift and
swept it away. We saw that our progress would
necessarily be slower and slower, as we had farther
and farther to carry the dirt. But we thought we
had done well so far, and were very much encour-
aged.
Thus we dug away, mornings, afternoons, and
Saturday, until we reached a point about fifteen
feet from the entrance. And now it was very slow
work, because every shovelful had to travel over
those five yards. We began to realize that we had
taken a pretty large contract. None of the wind-
ing passages had been attempted yet. It was just
a straight tunnel. We sat down and discussed the
situation.
If we carry out the whole plan, it will take all
Summer," said Tommy.
Yes," said I, and, when the Fall rains come,
this wont be a pleasant place to stay in."
No," said he; a fellow might take an awful
cold-consumption, may be-sitting here all day
making change when the equinoctial was going
on."
Let's finish it up right here," said I.
"I think we'd better," said Tommy. "We
can dig some away at the sides here and make one
room, and that'll do. One room's enough, if
they're only going to pay five cents. We can put
all the skulls and things in here."
"And if it pays pretty well," said I, "we can
dig it farther next year, and put in more things,
and then the boys will want to come in again."
"It's a good idea," said Tommy; "it will be
most profitable that way."
So we went to work with a will, and dug away a
few yards of earth on each side of the inner end of
the tunnel, until we had made a small room. Then
we scooped a good deal off from the ceiling of this
room, until it was considerably higher than the
tunnel.
That'll do first-rate," said Tommy; "that's
plenty dark enough."
"Now for the things," said I. "How are we
going to make the stalactites ?"
Let's go and see what we can find," said
Tommy.


We went on a voyage of discovery around the
house and barn. Behind the barn, leaning up
against it, was a section of an old. white picket-
fence, that had been torn up to make room for a
new one somewhere.
I think those would do nicely," said I, and we
knocked off seven or eight of the pickets, sawed
them short, and carried them to the cave, where
we stuck them into the ceiling, points down.
"That's splendid!" said Tommy. "That
looks just like the Mammoth Cave. Now for the
skulls."
I thought it would be better not to go for the
skull until evening, as somebody might see us in
the day-time. Tommy agreed to that; and then
we went over to our house, to see what we could
find.
I stole into the front room and brought out two
flint arrow-heads and a stone hatchet, which were
among other curiosities on a little stand in the
corner. In the wood-shed we found a broken pre-
serve-jar and an old iron dumb-bell.
All these we carried to the cave, and arranged
them around the sides.
"Those," said Tommy, "make it look like an
Indian mound."
We employed the little remaining time before
supper in sweeping and smoothing the floor, and
discussing the management of the show.
I wish there was a door to it, so we could lock
it up," said Tommy. "I 'm afraid when a few of
the boys learn the way, they'll bring the others
when we aint here."
This was a very serious consideration. But pres-
ently I thought I saw the remedy.
"We can't make a door," said I; "but we
must n't let them learn the way here."
"How can we help it ? said Tommy.
"We must take them one at a time, and blind-
fold them at your father's gate, and then lead
them down here by some real crooked, roundabout
way."
Tommy was delighted with the idea.
"And that," said he, will do instead of a wind-
ing passage."
In the evening we went to the common and got
the horse's skull. Then we scoured the whole
common to find another one, but we were not suc-
cessful.
Never mind," said Tommy, I guess we can
make this one do."
We carried it home and deposited it in the wood-
shed.
Early next morning Tommy came over to our
house in high spirts.
"I 've found just the thing, in our garret,"
said he.


1875.1







A GREAT SPECULATION.


550


What is it? said I, eagerly.
Come and see "
I went with. him over to their wood-shed, and,
after shutting the door and locking it, he went to a
barrel in one corner, and carefully lifted out one of
those plaster models of the human head which the
phrenologists use, with little paper labels pasted
on the bumps all over it.
That's splendid That's lucky said I, in
unfeigned admiration.
"That '11 make it look like Herculaneum,"
said he.
Tommy wrapped it in an old piece of carpet,
and I put a newspaper around the horse's skull,
and we hurried them to the cave.
The keg we had stood on for the high work was
still there. We placed it in one corner, threw the
piece of carpet over it, and set the bust on it.
Then we scooped a hole in the wall, and put in the
skull so that it stuck about half-way out. We
tamped the dirt close around it, making it look as
if it had been buried there before the cave was
formed.
Tommy surveyed it and pronounced it perfectly
satisfactory.
"That," said he, "looks just like the cata-
combs."
We were now ready for customers, and we agreed
upon the route over which they must travel.' We
thought we'd light if up with a candle or two after
school, and then bring the boys in.
If we made rather poor recitations that day, you
may readily guess the reason. We hurried home
after school, and got a stub of a candle and carried
it to the cave, where we lighted it and placed it on
a shingle driven into the wall, and then went to
the front gate to look for customers.
The first boy that came along was Charlie Gar-
nett.
Hello, Charlie "
Hello "
We 've found a cave," said Tommy.
A cave said Charlie, wonderingly.
Yes, a cave; and it's full of curiosities. Stal-
actites, and statues, and skulls, and stone toma-
hawks, and arrows, and lots of things. Like Her-
culaneum and the Mammoth Cave, you know."
You're foolin'," said Charlie.
No foolin'," said Tommy, solemnly. "We '11
take you all through it for five cents."
"Honest true ?"
Honest true Aint it ? and he turned to me
for confirmation.
Yes," said I, it's a splendid cave."
But I haint got five cents," said Charlie.
How much have you got ? said Tommy.
"Only three."


Tommy consulted with me. He thought it was
better to let him in for three cents than not to have
him visit it at all. I assented.
We '11 let you in for three," said Tommy, gra-
ciously.
"All right! Where's your cave?" said Charlie.
We '11 blindfold you and lead you there," said
Tommy.
"No you don't! I know your tricks," said
Charlie.
No trick about it," said Tommy; "is there ?"
and again he appealed to me.
There is n't any trick in it," said I. It's a
real cave. But we don't want anybody to know
where to find it. And besides, it's more fun to go
blindfolded. It makes it seem like the dark wind-
ing passages of the Mammoth Cave."
Charlie concluded he 'd try it. Tommy took his
three cents, and then we tied a handkerchief tightly
over his eyes. We led him through the gate,
three times around the house, once around the
barn, once around Mrs. Baker's flower-beds, then
to the bowlder and on top of it.
"Now," said I, "jump down about four feet
with me."
We jumped, and at the same time Tommy rat-
tled an iron chain against the stone, to make it
seem dungeony," he said. Then we took him
down the bank to the brook, and up the other
side, and three times around a tree, and over a big
flat stump, and down to the brook again, and up
the bank, and along the narrow path to the cave.
We went to the center of the interior before we un- -
blindfolded him.
"One, two, three said Tommy, and jerked
off the bandage.
Charlie was lost in amazement. He looked
around in perfect awe and wonder, and was speech-
less as a mummy-until he saw the skull. He
walked up close to that, which was near the candle,
and looked at it steadily a minute or two.
That was my father's horse," said he, turning
round and facing us. You've got to pay me for
that."
I aint going to pay for no dead horses," said
Tommy, excitedly, his business principles getting
the better of his grammar. What's throwed out
on the common," he continued, is anybody's that
wants it."
Charlie was not ready to admit this proposition,
and a serious debate seemed likely to ensue; but
just here certain events which had been happening
above ground came to a crisis.
Mrs. Baker had several ladies visiting her that
afternoon, and they all walked out to see her
flower-garden. As they stood admiring a bed of
lilies-of-the-valley, six of them, including Mrs.


[JULY,







A GREAT SPECULATION.


Baker, suddenly found themselves moving in a
direct line toward China.
At the same instant, we heard a cracking and
crumbling overhead; and as the lumps of dirt


---- .....



CHARLIE'S EYES ARE UNBANDAGED.

and stalactites began to fall, Tommy cried out:
"It's cavin' in run !" and we hurriedly adjourned
the debate, and fled out of the cavern in mortal
terror.
We were none too quick. Six unprofitable vis-
itors, who had not paid anything, and had no free
passes, and were not blindfolded, were suddenly
introduced into the midst of all the wonders of the
Mammoth Cave, the Indian mounds, the cata-
combs, and Herculaneum. And they brought
daylight with them, before which the glory and the
mystery of those wonders vanished forever.
The screaming and the consternation that ensued
may be imagined. Daddy Blake, who was working
in a garden two doors off, came promptly to the
rescue. He wasted no time in approaching the
cave by the winding passage, but got the long
step-ladder, let it down from the top, and helped
the ladies out.
Fortunately no one was seriously hurt, but there
was a terrible rumpling of toilets. Old Mrs. Sim-


mons came out looking as if the sharpest of the
Indian weapons had been deftly wielded about her
scalp. Perhaps her wig reposes to this day on the
bald bumps of the phrenologist's model. Miss
Moore's muslin dress was
badly torn on the stal-
actites; and Mrs. Baker's
S ..- shoes, like the tiger's vis-
tors in the fable, made
no tracks away from that
S-- dread cave. If the loss of
them could have saved
-'-. _;- her son from punishment,
he at least would have
been entirely satisfied.
U, As for Tommy and me,
we did n't exactly want
S the hills to cover us-that
S we could have had by
standing still. But we
Felt the desirability of im-
mediate emigration. We
ran down the gorge of
the brook, and escaped
to the woods, not ventur-
ing home until night-fall.
The next day, Tommy
came over. He did not
S..- come into the house, but
:- stole around to the wood-
S .- shed, and gave a low
S whistle. I went out, and
we sat down on a large
billet of wood. Old
Burke was at our house
this morning," said he.
"What did he want? said I, a little nervously,
apprehending some new peril.
He wanted to see father. He said he'd won-
dered what made the water that comes into his
house so muddy these two or three weeks back.
And yesterday the hydraulic ram stopped working,
and he went and found it clogged up with dirt.
And then he traced the muddy water up to the
brook, until he came to where we threw the dirt
over from the cave. That's what he wanted to see
father about."
What did your father say ?"
"-He said he was very sorry, and then he told
him all about it. Then he said he was going to
have the cave filled up, and not have any more
such works. He's going to send me away to
boarding-school next week."
Here Tommy looked very doleful, and a long
pause ensued.
This would necessarily wind up the cave busi-
ness, and dissolve the partnership. Tommy said







552 HOW THE "MARGARETTA" WAS CAPTURED. [JULY,


nothing about cld ni,: the profits, and I delicately
reminded him that there must be a little cash in
the treasury.
There 's only three cents," said he.
"Yes," said I, three cents."
"And that can't be divided evenly," said he.
"That's so," said I.
"And the cave was on our land," said he.


"Yes," said I, "it was on your land"--and I
added silently, I'm glad it was."
"And, besides, I had to take a lickin'," he
added, ruefully.
"Did you? That's too bad," said I, with
genuine sympathy.
Tommy handed me one cent.
That's fair," said I.


HOW THE "MARGARETTA" WAS CAPTURED ONE
HUNDRED YEARS AGO.

BY GEORGE J. VARNEY.


ALMOST at the extreme limit of "Down East,"
in Maine, and on a river and bay of the same
name, lies the good old town of Machias. At the
date of the Revolution it contained about eighty
families and one hundred single men.
No community in the thirteen colonies was more
indignant than this at the usurpations of King
George the Third and his Ministers; and none
was more prompt in throwing off the British yoke
when the signal was given.
In the Spring of 1775 there reached Machias
the proclamation of the Massachusetts Congress,
authorizing preparations for resistance to Great
Britain; and, in a few days, a tall liberty pole was
erected by the patriots of the village.
On Saturday, the ninth of May, intelligence of
the battle of Lexington reached them, having been
brought by the crews of two lumber sloops from
Boston. The vessels had come for "pickets and
plank," to be used by the British in defense of their
position at Boston against the Americans. In
order to secure the desired cargoes, and the safe
return of the vessels, the British armed schooner
"Margaretta" attended them as convoy.
When the captain of the schooner saw the liberty
pole, he went on shore and informed the people
that it must be taken down, or he should fire upon
the town.
A meeting of the inhabitants was held within a
few hours, but they voted not to take down the
pole. The owner of the two sloops, a wealthy
merchant trading in Boston and Machias, repre-
sented to the captain that the meeting was not
fully attended; and he induced him to wait for the
action of another meeting, to be called on Monday,
before carrying out his threat.


The next day being Sunday, Captain Moore, of
the Margaretta," attended worship at the village
church. During the service, he saw through a
window some twenty men, with guns in their hands,
crossing the river on the logs. Suspecting a design
of seizing him in church, the captain made his way
over the seats to the nearest window, and, leaping
through it, he ran to the shore, closely followed by
his officers.
The party which he had seen, joined by others,
hastened along the bank of the river in pursuit.
But the crew of the Margaretta" had observed
the movements on shore, and, bringing her guns
to bear, succeeded in keeping the pursuers at bay
until the captain and his companions were on
board.
The schooner soon dropped down the river, firing
a few shots over the town as she got under way.
The party which had come across the river were
from the Pleasant River settlement, about twenty
miles westward,-having been sent for the day be-
fore by the Machias people, who by no means
intended to have their liberty pole taken down.
The Pleasant River men had only two or three
charges of powder apiece; and the next day a
woman arrived at Machias, having come all the
way through the woods alone to bring her husband
a horn of powder, which she had found after he
had gone.
Early on Monday morning, four young men took
possession of one of the lumber sloops, and, bring-
ing her up to the wharf, gave three cheers, to call
the attention of the villagers. Thirty-five athletic
men were soon gathered at the wharf, and a design
of capturing the Margaretta" was made known
to them. Arming themselves as well as they were






HOW THE "MARGARETTA" WAS CAPTURED.


able at so brief a notice, they set sail in pursuit of
the British vessel, which was lying at anchor a few
miles below.
As yet, they had no commander; but an elec-
tion was held on the way, by which Jeremiah
O'Brien, the eldest of six noble brothers on board,
was unanimously chosen captain. He immediately
gave permission, for all who did not wish to venture
in the attack, to leave the vessel, and three men
accordingly went ashore in the boat.
When the Margaretta observed the approach


The "Margaretta" had an armament of four
light deck guns and fourteen swivels; while the
sloop had only a single cannon, rudely mounted,
with which to return the fire. The first discharge
killed the "Margaretta's" helmsman and cleared
the quarter-deck. The schooner broached sud-
denly to windward, throwing the sails back, and
bringing her deck into full view of her pursuers.
Those of the patriots who had fire-arms instantly
discharged them.
In a very few moments the vessels came together.


g-I


THE CHASE OF THE MARGARETTA."


of the sloop, she weighed anchor and crowded on
all sail to avoid a conflict. In changing her jib
she carried away the boom; but, continuing her
flight, she ran into Holmes' Bay, and took a spar
from a vessel lying there.
While repairs were making, the sloop hove in
sight; and the "Margaretta" stood out to sea,
in hope still of avoiding her. So anxious was Cap-
tain Moore to avoid a collision, that he cut away
his boats to increase the speed of his vessel; but
this, too, was ineffectual. Finding the sloop fast
closing upon him, he at length opened fire upon
her.
VOL. II.-36.


Then ensued a contest with musketry, Captain
Moore himself throwing hand-grenades into the
sloop with considerable effect. An attempt was
made by the patriots to board the schooner; but
only one man-John O'Brien, brother of the com-
mander-reached her deck. Seven of the British
crew discharged their guns at him almost at the
same moment, but not a ball struck him. Then
they charged upon him with bayonets, but he
escaped these by jumping overboard. The vessels
had fallen some thirty yards apart; but he swam
to the sloop, and was taken on board without hav-
ing received any worse harm than a wetting.


553


1







WORKING ON THE FOURTH OF JULY.


The American vessel was again brought along-
side the enemy, and twenty men, armed chiefly
with pitchforks, sprang on board the schooner.
Captain Moore had already fallen, pierced by two
balls; and the conflict was so fierce that the offi-
cer left in command fled, panic-stricken, to the
cabin.
Thus the schooner and her stores fell nearly un-
injured into the hands of these brave freemen of
Machias. The loss of the Americans was four
killed and eight or nine wounded; that of the
British was more than twice as many.
The Margaretta" was the first British armed
vessel captured by the Americans in the War of
Independence. This enterprise was entirely a pri-
vate one, the Continental Congress not having
authorized any nautical force until the following
October.
The Committee of Safety of Machias soon after
sent John O'Brien, the hero of the action, with


despatches to the Provincial Congress of Massa-
chusetts, where he was received with much ap-
plause. On the 26th of June, the Congress passed
a vote of thanks to those engaged in this patriotic
action at Machias, "for their courage and good
conduct."
The swift little vessel of the patriots was after-
ward fitted up with the armament of the Marga-
retta," and was named "The Liberty." A few
weeks later she received a commission from Massa-
chusetts, and did good service in protecting our
coast from predatory incursions of the enemy.
Both the elder O'Briens soon became com-
manders of larger vessels, and pursued the busi-
ness of privateering through the war.
The medicine-chest of the Margaretta," with
the name of that vessel upon it, and containing
some of the medicines which it held when captured,
was in good preservation a few years ago at
Machias, and it may be so at this date.


WORKING ON THE FOURTH


OF JULY.


BY RUTH KENYON.


"THE BIG TREES IN THE SHADY GROVE."


WHAT a hot day it was, that Fourth of July!
But the children wanted to go, just the same; two
long miles in open wagons under the full heat of a
blazing sun was not to be thought of as an objec-
tion, when there was such a delightful picnic at the
end, with games without number and a nice sup-
per, all under the big trees in the shady grove.
"All the world is in for fun to-day, isn't it?"
said Claude, as a bob-o-link sailed by. He was try-


ing how close he could go over the tops of the tall
meadow grass, without hitting his glossy black and
white wings; and was so perfectly full of jollity,
that all the time it bubbled over in the very merri-
est song you ever heard. And when they reached
the woods they were surer than ever that it was holi-
day for the whole world; the squirrels were chatter-
ing, birds were singing, the brook was dancing, and
there was a playful rustle among the leaves over-


554


~






WORKING ON THE FOURTH OF JULY.


head, as a little breeze came creeping among them.
But with all this mirth about him, there was one
old fellow who kept about his work; he was the
Sun. It is true we thought at first that it was
special fire-works, gotten up by him for Independ-
ence Day that sent the thermometer up to 94
degrees that noon; but in the end it proved there
was never a bit of sport in it; he was doing his
regular work. Up so far above, that he could see
the dusty roads and the thirsty flowers; with such
sharp ears that he could hear them crying for water;
with sight so keen that he could peer away down
under the ground and see how low the springs were
getting, and how empty the wells, this good old
friend decided he had too much work on hand to
take a holiday, and so he went on with his business.
He sent his very hottest rays down upon the lake
and the river, and some of them to the little brook,
where it went leaping through the meadow, and
the little particles of water grew warm, very warm;
and as they became warmer they began to feel
strangely light, as if it would be very easy to fly,
and they whispered to each other of this new feel-
ing. And soon they grew so very light that they
were lifted up by the air and floated away toward
the sky,-first a few, then more and more, until
hundreds and thousands of these wee particles were
flying away. Higher they went, and still more
followed, till the crowd reached from the lake to
the very tops of the mountains.
Pretty soon the first ones met with a new friend,
a gentle wind that was making a journey. It had
just called upon Mt. Washington, and had brought
some of her cool snowy air home with it. It was
really refreshing on this warm day, and they stopped
to chat with this cool breeze a moment; but the
very first word with her chilled them through, and
they pressed up to each other to get warm; the
others coming up grew cold too, and as they
crowded together people looked up from the picnic
table and said, There 's a cloud coming up; hope
it wont rain before we get home," and then they
very soon forgot all about it.


But more and more of the water reached the
cool air, and larger grew the cloud. Grandma
Perkins opened all her blinds and shut all her win-
dows; Mr. Merchant drew up his awning and car-
ried in the new prints he had stacked up in front
of the store; and the people at the picnic wished
the wagons would come to carry them home, but
the wagons were two miles off.
Up in the cloud the tiny particles pressed closer
together till they made great drops, and the same
old heavy feeling came over them that they had
in the lake; then they began to fall, down into
the meadow and town over which the wind had
drifted them, all over Farmer Chapin's hay, left
out to dry; down on Grandma's windows to rinse
them clean; down into the garden, where the lilies
were holding up their cups to catch them, and where
the rose-bushes clapped a cordial welcome with
their shaking leaves. They visited the picnic grove
too; thick and fast they pattered through the
branches; there were no carriages to take the
children, there was no roof to shelter them; they
crowded under the table and behind the rocks;
some thought it was fun, and laughed; some
thought it anything else, and cried; those who
wore their best dresses were sorry; those who came
in the every-day prints were glad, for had n't they
seen the wash-tub too often to be frightened by
water?
But never mind, little people, who were troubled.
The sun did n't mean to hurt you by working on a
holiday, and calling the lake-water into the sky and
sending it sprinkling down; he was only doing his
work. And it soaked into the earth, away down
to the empty springs, and they ran bubbling into
the wells, and the sparkling water we drank at tea
was all the fresher for the shower; and the cisterns
were filled brim full, so that Peggy's eyes brightened
at the thought of her Monday's washing. So what
seems bad for us now may prove good for us in the
end, or good for somebody else, and we'll all be
happy whatever comes, even if it is a shower in
the midst of our picnic.





- A
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= ,~3 '_ :- -,
,,,: ,,.
-', ", "


CAUGHT IN THE RAIN.


'I







TOM'S DELUGE.


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f. I- rL, ->
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LITTLE Biddy O'Toole, on her three-leggid stool,
Was 'atin' her praties so hot,
Whin up shtepp'd the pig,
Wid his appetite big,
And Biddy vacated the spot.


TOM'S DELUGE.

BY MRS. H. HUDSON HOLLY.


ONCE there was a troublesome boy, named Tom,
who was always in mischief. Not only that, but
you never knew where to have him, for he was an
original youth, and broke out constantly in unex-
pected places. He put the cat in walnut-shell
boots and painted her pink and green in stripes.
He took the wheels out of the parlor clock to make
"penny-spinners;" and even that was not the
worst thing he did.
One day his mamma and grown-up sisters went
out, and Master Tom was left all alone in his glory.
They did n't often commit such an oversight, since
there was no telling what might happen before they
came back; however, at first he happened to do


nothing more than to sit on the cover of the sew-
ing-machine, drawing horses all over the fly-leaves
of his sister's favorite copy of Tennyson. All at
once a bright idea struck him. Hie slapped down
the book and jumped off the sewing-machine, ex-
claiming, Good! I know what I'll do! I mean
to set the water running in the bath-tub, and play
with my Noah's ark!"
Thereupon, Master Tom jerked open the drawer
where his toys were kept, jerked out the ark, cram-
ming in several stray animals that were kicking up
their heels in various corners, and scampered down
to the bath-room, talking to himself all the while.
Now then, I must turn on both faucets, so as to


[JULY,







x875.] TOM'S DELUGE. 557


hurry up the water as fast as possible. Goody!
how deep it is getting! Make haste, Noah, don't
stop to count the grasshoppers, but pile into your
old ark and shut the door quick! There-now
you're off-but it ought to be raining-if you're
Noah in the ark. Oho I'll start the shower-
bath going!" and, presently, a highly respect-
able shower was pattering and rattling down, while
Tom jumped up and down in a perfect ecstasy of
delight.
All at once the front-door bell rang. I wonder
who that is?" thought Tom. He listened.
Oh, there's Uncle George.! he cried; I'm
going down to see him this minute; and forget-
ting all about poor Noah, away he scampered,
slamming the bath-room door behind him, and
leaving the water still running.
His uncle, with whom he was a great favorite,
was waiting in the hall.
Well, young monkey," he said, as Tom's curly
head appeared at the top of the stairs, "do you
want to take a drive to the park with me?"
"Oh, don't I though!" cried Tom. "Please,
may I drive the buckle? by which he meant
being allowed to hold the reins where they were
buckled together.
"Yes; just as you like-only hurry. I don't
want to keep the horse standing."
Away flew Tom, but only to appear again in two
minutes, and to scramble into the buggy like a
lamplighter, when off they went. Meantime, the
water was rising higher and higher in the bath-tub,
and presently brimmed over and began to trickle
slowly upon the floor. It ought to have passed off
through the top drain, but, unluckily, the day be-
fore Master Tom had amused himself by plugging
up the little holes. Soon a slow but steady stream
was creeping under the door, and making little
alternate puddles and waterfalls down the front
stairs. And still nobody came home.
After about an hour of this, John, the black
waiter came into the dining-room to lay the table for
dinner. He was just standing by the sideboard
arranging an elegant pyramid of fruit in a glass
dish, when crash, bang down fell big, square yards
of plaster on top of his poor pate, and knocked


him flat upon the floor. The water had gradually
soaked through the boards, and plaster ceilings will
melt, you know, if not quite as easily as sugar, yet
just as surely if you keep at them long enough.
Up rushed the cook, leaving the roasting turkey
to take care of itself; and when she saw the con-
dition of the dining-room, and poor John lying
senseless on the floor, she began to scream murder,
fire, and thieves, at the top of her voice, which so
alarmed the housemaid, that she dropped her best
duster into the parlor fire, and rushed all the way
down the street calling for the police, before it
occurred to her to find out what was the matter.
At this moment Tom's mother and sisters return-
ed, and when they found the front door wide open,
and a stream of water running along the entry and
down the front steps, they were very nearly petri-
fied with astonishment. Just then up came Tom
and his uncle, who were walking home from the
stables, where they had left the horse and buggy.
"Why, what is the matter here? exclaimed his
uncle; "have your pipes burst that you are all
overflowed like this? "
Poor Tom I he turned as red as a beet and then
as white as this paper, but he was a truthful little
chap with all his faults, and, in a minute he burst
out with, Oh, mamma 1 oh, uncle I did it-it's
my deluge oh, oh "
"YOUR DELUGE?"
Yes; I set the water running in the bath-room
to play deluge with my Noah's ark, and I went out
to ride and forgot all about it "
"Did ever I hear-!" shouted Uncle George,
and, rushing upstairs, two steps at a time, he flew
into the bath-room and turned off the deluge in
double-quick time.
It took all Tom's pocket-money, for ever so long,
to pay the doctor who came to mend poor John's
broken head, and I don't know how much of his
papa's to replace the carpets which were ruined by
the catastrophe. As for Noah's ark, every bit of
the paint was washed off, and the animals swelled
so, they could n't be got in at the door. But that
did n't make much difference, for the ark itself soon
fell to pieces; and as for Master Tom, he behaved
beautifully for a whole week after that day.


I-' ~4 ---' ., ~
.tL I. *~'~ -j2tK, z







[Jvu,


558 THE WILD SHEEP AND THE TAME.




THE WILD SHEEP AND THE TAME.

By ETHEL GALE.


WHEN looking at our common domestic sheep
with his short and slender legs and his thick body
covered with soft wool, did you ever think of how
his first wild ancestors may have looked? Not
much like their descendants, you may be sure.
How do we know ? Because 'here are still places
where the wild sheep is found, looking, probably,


parts, and insides of the limbs, it is of a dirty white.
Under the throat, and about the neck and shoulders,
the hair is considerably longer than elsewhere.
Now let us imagine our moufflon introduced to
his very distant cousin, the fine merino sheep of our
American farms. In manners-being restrained
by our presence-they may probably manifest a


THE MOUFFLON, OR WILD SHEEP.


just like his ancestors hundreds of years ago; for
it is man's care and cultivation that have changed
the looks of our domestic sheep.
The moufflon, or wild sheep, is still found on the
hilly islands of Corsica, Sardinia, and Cyprus,
and among the mountains of Greece, and of
Central Asia; sometimes even straying into the
plains of the latter continent. The moufflon is a
good deal larger and stronger than our domestic
sheep; his body is thinner, his legs longer and
stouter, and-greatest difference of all-he is not
covered with thick curling wool, but with hair. In
summer this hair is thin, short and straight, but in
winter it becomes thick, long and slightly curly,
though never woolly. On the back and sides this
hair is of a dark-brown color, while on the under


dignified courtesy, but we can fancy the remarks
that each is making to himself.
"Humph !" sniffs the moufflon; I would like
to see you in my native mountains, Cousin Merino.
Those short, delicate legs of yours would n't be of
much service in carrying your heavy body about
among the rocks, I fear; and I think there should n't
be a great deal left of that queer, thick coat of
yours after a few hours of scrambling over stones
and among the brambles. Ha! ha! wouldn't I
like to see you trying to follow me around for a
few hours! You'd pant even harder than you do
now, I'm afraid. When I come to think about it, I
don't know but it would be cruel to lead you such
a chase, fat and heavy as you are. And then, I
don't believe you could see your way about very






THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


well with the 'wool pulled over your eyes' in that
ridiculous fashion. By the way, I wonder if you
would consider the question as impertinent, if I
were to ask you to tell me by what dreadful accident
you have lost your tail ?"
Meanwhile the delicate merinoa is eying his
rough-haired relative with very compassionate
glances.
"Poor fellow!" he says to himself; "poor
fellow How dreadfully Cousin Moufflon must suf-
fer from the cold in winter, with nothing but that
short hair to protect him! And how shockingly
thin he is, to be sure I'm afraid the poor creature
must be very weak. But, dear me! I shall be
quite ashamed to introduce him about, for I
should n't think he had been well washed once in
his lifetime, or even sheared! And then he has


allowed his tail to grow, until, after awhile, it
will be almost long enough for a calf! If it were
not for his voice, which certainly bears a strong re-
semblance to the melodious tones of all our family,
I could scarcely believe him to be a relative. It is
true his pronunciation is a little peculiar, so that I
can't understand him very well, but his deep bass
tones are indeed charming. I am sure he will be
welcomed as a choice addition to our select choir.
Baa-a-a-a, Cousin Moufflon, will you walk down
and be introduced to the rest of the flock ?"
"Baa-a-a-a-a-a-a-a, Cousin Merino, you're a very
obliging fellow, after all."
And as the two walk off together the moufflon is
casting about in his mind to find the least disagree-
able way to satisfy his curiosity about how his
cousin lost his tail.


THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.

BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE.


CHAPTER XXVI.
VICTORY.
PEAKSLOW halted in the gap of the fence, his
fury cooling before Lord Betterson's steady eyes and
quiet threat.
Betterson went on, speaking deliberately, while
his poised and ready barrels gave emphasis to his
remarks:
"You've talked a good deal of shooting, one
time and another, friend Peakslow. I think it is
about time to have done with that foolishness.
Excuse my frankness."
I 've a right to defend my property and my
premises !" said Peakslow, glowing and fuming,
but never stepping beyond the gap.
"What property or premises, good neighbor?
The horse is this young man's; and nobody has
set foot on your land."
"That dog was on my land."
And so was the horse," put in Jack.
"Take him off, pa! he's smotherin' on me!"
shouted Zeph.
Your boy is abusin' mine. I'll take care o'
him!" And Peakslow set a foot over the two
lower rails left in the gap.
"You'd better stay where you are,-accept a
friend's disinterested advice," remarked Betterson.
"If your boy had been on the right side of the
fence, minding his own business,-you will bear


with me if I am quite plain in my speech,-my boy
would have had no occasion to soil his hands with
him."
Peakslow appeared quite cowed by this unex-
pected show of determination in his easy-going
neighbor. He stood astride the rails, just where
Betterson had arrested his advance, and contented
himself with urging Dud to the rescue of his
brother.
Why do ye stan' there and see Zeph treated
that way? Why don't ye pitch in ? "
That's a game two can play at," said Jack.
" Hands off, Dud, my boy." And he stood by to
see fair play.
My boy had a right on that land; it's by good
rights mine to-day 1" exclaimed Peakslow.
We wont discuss that question; it has been
settled once, neighbor," replied Betterson. "Rufus,
I think you've done enough for that boy; his face
is blacker than I ever saw it, which is saying a
good deal. Let him go. Mr. Peakslow,"-with a
bow of gracious condescension over the frayed
stock,-" you are welcome to as much of this dis-
puted territory as you can shake out of that young-
ster's clothes,-not any more."
"That seems to be a good deal," said Jack,
laughing to see Zeph scramble up, gasping, blub-
bering, flirting soil from his clothes and hair, and
clawing it desperately from his besmeared face.
That's for daring me to fight you," said Rufe,


559






THE YOUNG' SURVEYOR.


as he let him go. I '11 pay you some other time
for what you did to Cecie; while Zeph went off
howling.
"No more, Rufus," said Betterson. Come
and put up this fence."
I '11 do that," said Jack. I 'm bound to leave
it as I found it; if Mr. Peakslow will please step
either forward or back."
Peakslow concluded to step back; and Jack and
Rufe laid up the corner, rail by rail.
Don't you think you've played me a perty
shabby trick ?" said Peakslow, glaring at Jack.
You are hardly the man to speak with a very
good grace of anybody's shabby tricks," Jack re-
plied, putting up the top rail before the hooked
nose.
I did n't think it of you And Peakslow cast
longing eyes after the horse.
You must have forgotten what you thought,"
said Jack. You did n't dare turn the horse out
till Zeph told you I 'd gone home; and it seems
you kept pretty close watch of him then."
Peakslow choked back his wrath, and muttered:
Ye might 'a' gi'n me suthin' for my trouble."
So I would, willingly, if you had acted de-
cently."
Gi' me suthin' now, and settle it."
I consider it already settled,-like your land-
claim dispute," said Jack. "But no matter; how
much do you want? Don't bid too high, you
know."
Gi' me a dollar, anyhow !"
Jack laughed.
If I should give you enough to pay for the
charge in your gun, would n't that satisfy you?
Though, as you did n't fire it at me, I don't quite
see that I ought to defray the expense of it. Good-
day, Mr. Peakslow."
Jack went to find the chicken that had been
shot; and Peakslow vented his rage upon his
neighbor across the fence.
"What a pattern of a man you be stuck-up,
struttin',-a turkey-gobbler kind of man, I call ye.
Think I 'm afraid o' yer gun ? "
I have no answer to make to remarks of that
nature," said Lord Betterson, retiring from the
fence.
Haint, hey?" Peakslow roared after him.
"Feel above a common man like me, do ye?
Guess I pay my debts. If I set out to build, guess
I look out and not bu'st up 'fore I get my painting'
and plasterin' done. Nothin' to say to me, hey?"
Betterson coolly resumed his slow and stately
march across the buckwheat, looking for prairie
chickens.
You puffed-up, pompous, would-be 'ristocrat!"
said Peakslow, more and more furious, where'd


you be if your relations did n't furnish ye money ?
Poorer 'n ye be now, I guess. What if I should
tell ye what yer neighbors say of ye ? Guess ye
would n't carry yer head so plaguy high! "
Two chickens rose from before Betterson's feet,
and flew to right and left. With perfect coolness
and precision of aim he fired and brought down
one, then turned and dropped the other, with
scarce an interval of three seconds between the
reports.
This is a very pretty piece of yours," he ob-
served smilingly, with a stately wave of the hand
toward Jack.
I never saw anything so handsomely done !"
exclaimed Jack, bringing the chicken previously
shot.
At the same time he could not help glancing with
some apprehension at Peakslow, not knowing what
that excitable neighbor might do, now that Better-
son's two barrels were empty.
I think I will stay and have one or two more
shots," said Betterson. A very pretty piece in-
deed!"
The muttering thunder of Peakslow's wrath died
away in the distance, as he retired with his forces.
Rufe picked up the last two prairie chickens and
followed Jack, who ran to overtake the dog and
horse.
Lion still held the bridle rein, letting Snowfoot
nip the grass that grew along the borders of the
corn, but keeping him from the corn itself. Jack
patted and praised the dog, and stroked and
caressed the horse, looking him all over to see if
he had received any fresh injury.
Then Rufe joined him; and presently Wad came
bounding down the slope from the barn, laughing,
carrying Jack's coat; and Link appeared, running
and limping, having hurt his ankle in jumping
down from the cowshed. Behind came Chokie,
trudging on his short legs, and tumbling and
sprawling at every few steps.
The boys were jubilant over the victory; and
Jack was the object of loud congratulations; while
Lion and Snowfoot formed the center of the little
group.
Much obliged to you, Wad," said Jack, as they
re-exchanged coats and hats. Thanks to you,
I 've got my horse again. Thanks to all of you.
Boys, I was perfectly astonished at your father's
pluck And he could not help thinking what a
really noble specimen of a man Betterson might
have made, if he had not been standing on his
dignity and waiting for legacies all his life.
Not many folks know what sort of a man father
is," replied Rufe. "Peakslow would have found
out, if he had drawn a bead on you. How quick
he stopped, and changed countenance! He can


560


[JULY,






THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


govern his temper when he finds he must; and he can
cringe and crawl when he sees it's for his interest.
Think of his asking you at last-after you had got
your horse in spite of him, and at the risk of your
life-think of his begging you to give him a dol-
lar !"
Jack said: Look at that galled spot on Snow-
foot's neck! Peakslow has got all he could out of
him the past week,-kept him low and worked


delighted Lill clapped her hands, and Mrs. Better-
sort and Cecie looked eagerly from the window, as
the little procession approached the bouse,-Lion
walking sedately before, then Link and Chokie
riding the lost horse, and Jack and Rufe and Wad
following with the prairie chickens.
More congratulations. Then Lord Betterson
came from the field with another bird. Then
Snowfoot was saddled, and Jack, with dog and gun,


THE PROCESSION APPROACHES THE HOUSE.
THE PROCESSION APPROACHES THE HOUSE.


him hard in a cruel collar. Never mind, old Snow-
foot I better times have come now, for both of us.
Here, Link, you are lame; want a ride ?"
Link did want a ride, of course,-who ever saw
a boy that did n't ? Jack took hold of his foot and
helped him mount upon Snowfoot's back; then
called to Chokie, who was getting up from his last
tumble (with loud lamentations), a few yards off.
"Here, Chokie; don't cry; fun isn't all over
yet; you can ride too." Tossing the urchin up,
Jack set him behind Link. Hold on now, Chokie;
hug brother tight! "
Both chubby arms reaching half around Link's
waist, one chubby cheek pressed close to Link's
suspender, and two chubby legs sticking out on
Snowfoot's back, Chokie forgot his griefs, and, with
the tear-streaks still wet on his cheeks, enjoyed the
fearful pleasure of the ride.
Vinnie's bright face watched from the door, the


and two of the prairie chickens, took leave of his
friends, and rode home in triumph.

CHAPTER XXVII.
VINNIE IN THE LION'S DEN.
WHEN Link the next morning went to the spring
for water he found that the Peakslow boys (it could
have been nobody else) had, by a dastardly trick,
taken revenge for the defeat of the day before.
Link came limping back (his ankle was still sore)
with an empty pail, and loud complaints of the
enemy.
They've been and gone and filled the spring
with earth and leaves and sticks, and all sorts of
rubbish! It will take an hour to dig it out, and
then all day for the water to settle and be fit to
drink."
Those dreadful Peakslow boys! what shall we







THE YOUNG SURVEYOR. (Joi~v,


do?" Caroline said despairingly. "No water for
breakfast, and no near neighbors but the Peak-
slows; but their well is the last place where we
should think of going for water."
I'll tell you what I'll do said Link. "I '11
go to-night and give 'em such a dose in their well,
that they wont want any water from it for the next
two months I know where there's a dead rabbit.
The Peakslows don't get the start of us "
I don't see but that one of the boys will have
to go to Mr. Wiggett's for water," said poor Caro-
line, bemoaning her troubles.
"Rufe and Wad are doing the chores," said
Link, "and I'm lame. Besides, you don't catch
one of us going to old Wiggett's for water, for we
should have to pass Peakslow's house, and it would
please 'em too well."
Let me take the pail; I will get some water,"
said Vinnie.
Why, Lavinia dear! Caroline exclaimed,
"what are you thinking of? Where are you
going?"
To Mr. Peakslow's," Vinnie answered with a
smile.
Going into the lion's den! Don't think of such
a thing, Lavinia dear !"
No, by sixty!" cried Link. "I don't want
them boys to sass you! I'd rather go a mile in
the other direction for water,-bother the lame
foot!"
But Vinnie quietly persisted, saying it would do
no harm for her to try; and putting on her bonnet,
she started off with the empty pail.
I cannot say that she felt no misgivings; but the
consciousness of doing a simple and blameless act
helped to quiet the beating of her heart as she ap-
proached the Peakslow door.
It was open, and she could see the family at
breakfast within, while the loud talking prevented
her footsteps from being heard.
Besides Dud and Zeph, there were three or four
younger children, girls and boys, the youngest of
whom-a child with bandaged hands and arms-
sat in its father's lap.
Vinnie remembered the swarthy face, bushy
beard and hooked nose; and yet she could hardly
believe that this was the same man who once
showed her such ruffianly manners on the wharf in
Chicago. He was fondling and feeding the child,
and talking to it, and drumming on the table with
his knife to amuse it and still its complaining cries.
Surely," thought Vinnie, there must be some
good in a man who shows so much affection even
toward his own child." And with growing courage
she advanced to the threshold.
Mrs. Peakslow a much bent, over-worked
woman, with a pinched and peevish face-looked


up quickly across the table and stared at the strange
visitor. In a moment all eyes were turned upon
Vinnie.
I beg your pardon," she said, pausing at the
door. I wish to get a pail of water. Can I go
to your well and help myself? "
The children-and especially Dud and Zeph-
looked in astonishment at the bright face and girl-
ish form in the door-way. As Mr. Peakslow turned
his face toward her, all the tenderness went out
of it.
What do Betterson's folks send here for water
for? And what makes 'em send a gal? Why
don't they come themselves ?"
They did not send me," Vinnie answered as
pleasantly as she could. "I came of my own ac-
cord."
Peakslow wheeled round in his chair.
Queer sort of folks, they be! An' seems to
me you must be queer, to be stopping' with 'em."
Mrs. Betterson is my sister," replied Vinnie in
a trembling voice. I came to her because she is
sick, and Cecie-because I was needed," she said,
avoiding the dangerous ground of Zeph's offense.
I've nothing' pa'tic'lar ag'in' Mis' Betterson as
I know on," said Peakslow, though of course she
sides with him ag'in' me, an' of course you side
with her."
"I've nothing to do with Mr. Betterson's quar-
rels," Vinnie answered, drawing back from the
door. Will you kindly permit me to get a pail
of water? I am sorry if I give you any trouble."
"No trouble; water's cheap," said Peakslow.
"But why don't they have a well o' their own,
'ste'd o' depending' on their neighbors? What
makes 'em so plaguy shif'less ?"
They have a well, but it is dry this Summer,
and -"
Dry every Summer, aint it? What a way to
dig a well that was! "
"They have a very good spring," Vinnie said,
"but something happened to it last night;" at
whith Dud and Zeph giggled and looked sheepish.
What happened to the spring? "
Somebody put rubbish into it and spoiled the
water."
Who done it, did you hear 'em say?"
I don't know who did it; and I should be sorry
to accuse any person of such an act," Vinnie
answered with firm but serene dignity.
The boys looked more sheepish and giggled less.
I know who put stuff in the spring," spoke up
a little one, proud of being able to convey useful
information; Dud and Zeph --"
But at that moment Dud's hand stopped the
prattler's mouth.
I don't believe my boys have done anything of


THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


(u0"*






THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


the kind," said Peakslow; though 't would n't be
strange if they did. See how that great lubberly
Rufe treated our Zeph yist'day! rubbed the dirt
into his skin so't he ha' n't got it washed out yit."
I am sorry for these misunderstandings," said
Vinnie, turning to Mrs. Peakslow with an appealing
look. I wish you and my sister knew each other
better. You have a sick child, too, I see."
"'T aint sick, 'xac'ly," replied, the mother in a
peevish, snarling tone. Pulled over the teapot,
and got hands and arms scalt."
Oh! poor little thing! Vinnie exclaimed.
" What have you done for it? "
Haint done nothing' much, only wrapped up
the blistered places in Injin meal; that's coolin'."
No doubt; but I 've some salve, the best thing
in the world for burns. I wish you would let me
bring you some."
I guess Bubby '11 git along 'thout no help from
outside," said Peakslow, his ill-natured growl soft-
ened by a feeling of tenderness for the child, which
just then came over him. "He's weathered the
wust on 't."
But Bubby's fretful cries told that what was left
was bad enough.
I will bring you the salve," said Vinnie, and I
hope you will try it; it is so hard to see these little
ones suffer."
She was retiring, when Peakslow called after her:
Goin' withoutt the water?"
I-thought-you had not told me I could
have it."
"Have it! of course you can have it; I would n't
refuse nobody a pail o' water. Ye see where the
well is?"
0 yes; thank you." And Vinnie hastened to
the curb.
"She can't draw it," snickered Zeph. "Handle's
broke; and the crank '11 slip out of her hands and
knock her to Jericho, if she don't look out."
Seems to be a perty spoken gal," said Peak-
slow, turning to finish his breakfast. I 've nothing'
ag'in' her. You've finished your breakfast; better
go out, Dudley, and tell her to look out about the
crank."
With mixed emotions in his soul, Dud went;
his countenance enlivened at one and the same
time with a blush of boyish bashfulness and a mali-
cious grin. As he drew near, and saw Vinnie
embarrassed with the windlass, which seemed de-
termined to let the bucket down too fast (as if
animated with a genuine Peakslow spite toward
her), the grin predominated; but when she turned
upon him a troubled, smiling face, the grin sub-
sided, and the blush became a general conflagra-
tion, extending to the tips of his ears.
How doesn't go?"


: It's inclined to go altogether too fast," said
Vinnie, stopping the windlass; and it hurts my
hands."
Le' me show ye."
And Dud, taking her place by the curb, let the
windlass revolve with moderated velocity under the
pressure of his rough palms, until the bucket struck
the water. Then, drawing it up, he filled her pail.
The grin had by this time faded quite out of his
countenance; and when she thanked him sweetly
and sincerely for helping her, the blush became a
blush of pleasure.
It is more than I can carry," she said. "I
shall have to pour out some."
Thereupon Dud Peakslow tonished himself by
an extraordinary act of gallantly.
I'll carry it for ye as fur as the road; I'd carry
it all the way, if 'twas anywhere else." And he
actually took up the pail.
You seem to have a very bad opinion of my
relations," Vinnie said.
Good reason They hate us, too "
"And think they have good reason. But I'm
sure you are not so bad as they believe; and you
may possibly be mistaken about them. Let me
take the pail now. You are very kind."
Dud gave up the pail with reluctance, and gazed
after her up the road, his stupid mouth ajar with
an expression of wistful wonder and pleasure.
"Hurry now and git up the team, Dud!" his
father called from the door. What ye stan'in'
there for ? Did n't ye never see a gal afore ? "
When Vinnie reached home with her pail of
water, all gathered around, eager to hear her ad-
venture.
The lions were not very savage, after all," she
said, laughing.

CHAPTER XXVIII.
AN "EXTRAORDINARY" GIRL.
AFTER breakfast Vinnie left Lill to "do the
dishes," and went with her box of salve to fulfill
her promise to Mrs. Peakslow. Dud and Zeph
were off at work with their father; and she was
glad to find the mother alone with the younger
children.
Oh you ag'in ? said Mrs. Peakslow, by the
chimney, looking up from a skillet she was stooping
over and scraping. "Ye needn't 'a' took the
trouble. Guess Bubby's burns '11 git along."
But Vinnie was not to be rebuffed.
I have brought some linen rags to spread the
salve on, Will you let me do it myself? I wish
you would; the poor thing is suffering so."
And Vinnie knelt down beside the girl who was
holding Bubby in her arms.


1875.-


563








564 THE YOUNG SURVEYOR. [JULX'~


"Is 't any o' the Betterson folks's sa'v' ?" Mrs.
Peakslow inquired, scraping away at her skillet.
"No; it is some I brought from the East with
me, thinking I should find a use for it in my sister's
family; it is good for various things."
Better keep it for her family snarled Mrs.
Peakslow. Scrape, scrape.
There's plenty and to spare," said Vinnie, un-
rolling her rags. "And my sister will be only too
glad if it can be of any service to you."
Think so ?" Mrs. Peakslow stopped her scrap-
ing and scowled at Vinnie. "Her folks ha'n't
never showed us none too much good-will."
They have never known you-you have never
understood each other," said Vinnie. It is too
bad that the troubles between the men should pre-
vent you and her from being on neighborly terms.
Can I use a corner of this table to spread the
salve? And can I see the little thing's burns, so
as to shape the plasters to cover them ?"
He tol' me not to use the sa'v', if ye brought
it," said Mrs. Peakslow doubtfully, laying down the
skillet.
When he sees the good effect of it I am sure
he wont complain; he is too fond of his little boy,"
said Vinnie, placing rags and salve on the table.
" Will you let me take a case-knife and a pair of
scissors ?"
"Got rags enough of my own. Needn't trouble
yourself to cut and spread plasters. Try the sa'v',
'f ye say so."
Vinnie did say so, and dressed Bubby's burns
with her own hands, doing the work so deftly and
tenderly, talking now to the child, now to the
mother, who had taken him into her lap, and show-
ing in every look and tone so cheerful and sweet a
spirit that poor Mrs. Peakslow's peevish heart
warmed and softened toward her.
I do declare," she said, as the outer bandages
were going on, Bubby feels comforted already.
Must be dreffle good sa'v'! Much obleeged to ye,
I'm sure. How is yer sister, Mis' Betterson? "
"Much better than she was; and the baby is
better too. Indeed," said Vinnie, "I think the
baby will get well as soon as the mother does."
"And Cecie-how's Cecie ? Mrs. Peakslow
timidly asked.
O, Cecie is in very good spirits. She is the
most gentle, patient, beautiful girl you ever saw!
She never complains; and she is always so grateful
for any little thing that is done for her! "
S'pose the folks feel hard to our Zeph; don't
they?"
"I believe the boys do, and you can hardly
wonder at it, Mrs. Peakslow," said Vinnie; "their
own dear sister! crippled for life, perhaps. But
Cecie wont allow that your son meant to hurt her;


she always takes his part when the subject is
brought up."
"Does she?" exclaimed Mrs. Peakslow, sur-
prised into sudden tears. I would n't 'a' believed
that! Must be she's a good gal. Truth is, Zeph
had n't no notion o' hurtin' on her. It's re'ly
troubled me,-it's troubled all on us, though I
don't s'pose her folks '1 believe it."
And Mrs. Peakslow, not finding it convenient to
get at her apron, with Bubby in her lap, wiped her
eyes with a remnant of Vinnie's rags.
Is n't it too sad that this quarrel is kept up ?"
said Vinnie.
"0 dear me! nobody knows," said Mrs. Peak-
slow, in a quavering voice, what a life it is! Our
folks is some to blame, I s'pose. But the Better-
sons have been so aggravatin'! Though I've
nothing' ag'in' the gals. They're as perty gals as
I 'd ask to have play with my children. My chil-
dren is suffering' for mates. I want society, too, for
it 's a dreffle life-a dreffle life And the quaver-
ing voice broke into sobs.
Vinnie was surprised and pained at this outburst,
and hardly knew what reply to make.
Lyddy, wipe them dishes!" Mrs. Peakslow
went on again, sopping her eyes with the remnant
of rags. "Lecty Ann here, take Bubby. 'Scuse
me, miss; I d'n' know what sot me goin' this way;
but my heart's been shet up so long; I've so
wanted sympathy!" And now the apron did
service in place of the rags.
Yes, I know," said Vinnie. "This is a lone-
some country, unless you have friends around you.
There seem to be a few nice people here-people
from the East; you are from the East, I suppose ?"
0 yes; but he a'nt a very social man, an' he's
dreffle sot in his way. He don't go out nowhere,
'thout he has business, an' he don't think there's
any need of a woman's goin' out. So there it is.
The Wiggetts, our neighbors on one side, a'nt our
kind o' people; then there's the Bettersons on
t' other side. An' there's allus so many things a
wife has to put up with, an' hold her tongue. O
dear! 0 dear I Keep to your work, gals hear ? "
There was something almost comical in this sharp
and shrill winding-up of the good woman's pathetic
discourse; but Vinnie never felt less like laughing.
I am glad you can speak freely to me," she
said. I '1 come and see you again, if you will
let me; and I want you some time to come and
see my sister."
:'I d'n' know! I d'n' know! said Mrs. Peak-
slow, still weeping. You may come here,-like
to have ye,-only it'll be jest as well if you time
your visits when me an' the gals is alone; you know
what men-folks be."
"You are really an extraordinary girl, Lavinia


564


THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


[JU-Y,







THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


dear Caroline said, when Vinnie went home and
told her story. "Did you know it?"
Vinnie laughed.
"Why, no; I never thought of such a thing;
what I do comes so very natural."
Extraordinary! Caroline repeated, regarding
her admiringly. I 'm proud of such a sister. I
always told Mr. Betterson there was good blood on
our side too. I wonder what Radcliff would think
of you."
Vinnie sincerely believed that so fine a young
gentleman would not think anything of her at all,


'''I;


LORD BETTERSON.

but feared it might seem like affectation in her to
say so.
And I wonder," Caroline continued, with the
usual simper which her favorite theme inspired,
" what you would think of Radcliff. Ah, Lavinia
dear it is a comfort for me to reflect that it was a
Betterson-nobody less than a thorough-bred Bet-
terson-who took the place in our family which you
would otherwise have filled."
Evidently Caroline's conscience was not quite
easy on the subject of her early neglect of so ex-
traordinary a sister; for she often alluded to it in
this way. Vinnie now begged her not to mention
it again.
And you really cherish no hard feelings? "
None whatever."
"You are very good. And pretty; did you
know it? Quite pretty."
Vinnie laughed again.


Mrs. Presbit brought me up to the wholesome
belief that I was quite plain."
That was to prevent you from becoming vain.
Vanity, you know," said Caroline, with her most
exquisite simper, "spoils so many girls! I 'm
thankful it does n't run in our family But did n't
your glass undeceive you ?"
On the contrary; I used to look in it and say
to myself: It is a very common face; I wish it
was pretty, but Aunt Presbit is right; I'm a
homely little thing! '"
And you felt bad ?"
I never mourned over it; though, of course, I
should have much preferred to be handsome."
And has n't anybody ever told you you were
handsome?"
Vinnie blushed.
Of course, I 've heard a good deal of nonsense
talked now and then."
Lavinia dear, you are extraordinary. And
handsome, though not in the usual sense of the
word. Your face is rather common, in repose, but
it lights up wonderfully. And, after all, I don't
know that it is so much your face, as the expression
you throw into it, that is so enchanting. What
would Radcliff Betterson say to you, I wonder?"

CHAPTER XXIX.
ANOTHER HUNT, AND HOW IT ENDED.
JACK had one day been surveying a piece of land
a few miles east of Long Woods. It was not very
late in the afternoon when he finished his work;
and he found that, by going a little out of his way,
and driving rather fast, he could, before night,
make Vinnie and her friends a call, and perhaps
give Mrs. Wiggett the promised noon-mark on her
kitchen floor.
Leaving in due time the more traveled thorough-
fare, he turned off upon the neighborhood road,
which he knew passed through the woods and
struck the river road near Betterson's house.
Away on his left lay the rolling prairie, over a
crest of which he, on a memorable occasion, saw
Snowfoot disappear with his strange rider; and he
was fast approaching the scene of his famous deer
hunt.
Jack had his gun with him; and, though he did
not stop to give much attention to the prairie hens
which now and then ran skulkingly across the
track, or flew up from beside his buggy wheels, he
could not help looking for larger game.
I 'd like to see another doe and fawn feeding
off on the prairie there," thought he. Wonder
if I could find some obliging young man to drive
them in "
He whipped up Snowfoot, and presently, riding


1875.)


565


r4







[JULY,


THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


over a swell of land, discovered a stranger walking
on before him in the road.
No deer or fawn," thought he; but there's
possibly an obliging young man."
As he drove on, fast overtaking the pedestrian,
Jack was very much struck by his appearance. He
was a slender person; he walked at a loitering
pace; and he carried his coat on his arm. There
was something also in the jaunty carriage of the
head, and in the easy slouch of the hat-brim, which
startled Jack.
I vow, it's my obliging young man himself! "
he muttered through his teeth,-" or a vision of
him! "
Just then the stranger, hearing the sound of
wheels, cast a quick glance over his shoulder. It
was the same face, and Jack could almost have
taken his oath to the quid in the cheek.
He was greatly astonished and excited. It
seemed more like a dream than anything else, that
he should again meet with the person who had
given him so much trouble, so near the place
where he had seen him first, in precisely similar
hat and soiled shirt-sleeves, and carrying (to all
appearances) the same coat on his arm !
The stranger gave no sign of the recognition
being mutual, but stepped off upon the road-side
to let the buggy pass.
How are you ? said Jack, coming up to him,
and drawing rein; while Lion snuffed suspiciously
at the rogue's heels.
All right, stranger; how are you yourself? "
And a pair of reckless dark eyes flashed saucily up
at Jack.
Better than I was that night after you ran off
with my horse Jack replied.
"Glad you're improving. Wife on the mend-
ing hand ? And how are the little daisies ? Which
is the road to Halleluia Corners? I branch off
here; good day, fair stranger."
These words were rattled off with great volu-
bility, which seemed all the greater because of
their surprising irrelevancy.
Before Jack could answer, the youth, with a wild
laugh, struck off from the road, and began to walk
fast toward the woodland. Jack called after him:
Hold on I want to speak with you "
Speak quick, then; I'm bound for the King-
dom,-will you go to glory with me? the rogue
shouted back over his shoulder, with a defiant grin,
never slacking his pace.
Jack gave Snowfoot a touch of the whip, reined
out of the track, and drove after him.
The fellow at the same time quickened his step
to a run, and before he could be overtaken he had
come to rough ground, where fast driving was
dangerous.


Jack pulled up unwillingly, revolving rapidly in
his mind what he should do. Though he had re-
covered his horse, he felt the strongest desire to
have the thief taken and punished. Moreover, he
had lately seen the truckman to whom the stolen
animal was sold, and had promised to do what he
could to help him obtain justice.
He might have leveled his gun and threatened
to shoot the fugitive; but he would not have felt
justified in carrying out such a threat, and recent
experience had disgusted him with the shooting
business.
He would have jumped from the wagon, and fol-
lowed on foot; but, though a good runner, he was
convinced that his heels were no match for the
stranger's. There was then but one thing to do.
Stop, or I'll let the dog take you !" Jack
yelled.
For reply, the fugitive threw up his hand over
his shoulder, with fingers spread, and thumb point-
ing toward the mid-region of countenance occupied
by the nose; which did not, however, take the
trouble to turn and make itself visible.
Lion was already eager for the chase; and Jack
had only to give him a signal.
Take care of him, Lion and away sped the
dog.
Fleet of foot as the fellow was, and though he
now strained every nerve to get away, the distance
between him and the dog rapidly diminished; and a
hurried glance behind showed him the swift, black,
powerful animal, coming with terrible bounds, and
never a bark, hard at his heels.
The thickets were near,-could he reach them
before the dog reached him ? Would they afford
him a refuge, or a cudgel? He threw out his quid,

and leaned to his work.
Jack drove after as fast as he could, in order to
prevent mortal mischief when Lion should bring
down his game; for the dog, when too much in
earnest with a foe, had an overmastering instinct
for searching out the windpipe and jugular vein.
The rogue had reached the edge of the woods,
when he found himself so closely pursued that he
seemed to have no resource but to turn and dash
his coat into the dog's face. That gave him an in-
stant's reprieve; then Lion was upon him again;
and he had just time to leap to the low limb of a
scraggy oak-tree, and swing his lower limbs free
from the ground, when the fierce eyes and red
tongue were upon the spot.
Lion gave one leap, but missed his mark, the
trap-like jaws snapping together with a sound
which could not have been very agreeable to the
youth whose dangling legs had been actually
grazed by the passing muzzle.
With a wistful, whining yelp, Lion gave another


566








THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


upward spring; and this time his fangs closed
upon something-only cloth, fortunately; but as
the thief clambered up out of their range, it was


LION JUST MISSES HIS MARK.

with a very good chance for a future patch upon
the leg of his trousers.
Leaping from his wagon, Jack rushed to the
tree, and found his obliging young man perched
comfortably in it, with one leg over a limb; while
Lion, below, made up for his long silence by utter-
ing frantic barks.
What are you up there for ?" said Jack.
"To take an observation," the fellow replied,
out of breath, but still cheerful. First-rate view
of the country up here. I fancy I see a doe and a
fawn off on the prairie; would n't you like a shot
at 'em ? "
I 've other game to look after just now Jack
replied.
Better look out for your horse; he's running
away I "


My horse is n't in the habit of running away
without help. Will you come down ?"
"I was just going to invite you to come up.
I '11 share my lodgings with you,-
give you an upper berth. A very
good tavern; rooms airy, fine pros-
pect; though the table don't seem to
be very well supplied, and I can't say
S I fancy the entrance. 'Sich gittin' up-
stairs I never did see !'"
Jack checked this flow of nonsense
'-H. by shouting: "Will you come down,
or not? "
Suppose not ? said the fellow.
Then I leave the dog to guard
the door of your tavern, and go for a
warrant and a constable, to bring you
down."
S" What would you have me come
down for? You seem to be very
i pressing in your attentions to a
stranger!"
"Don't say stranger, -you who
drove the deer in for me I am anx-
ious to pay you for that kindness. I
want you to ride with me."
-- Why did n't you say so before ?"
cried the rogue. I always ride when
you ask me to, don't I ? Say, did you
ever know me to refuse when you
'-,2 offered me a ride? Which way are
S^ you going?"
"Down through the woods," said
Jack, amused, in spite of himself, at
the scamp's reckless gayety.
"Why, that's just the way I am going Why
did n't you mention it? I never should have
put up at this tavern if I had thought a friend
would come along and give me a lift in his car-
riage. Please relieve the guard, and I '1 de-
scend."
The dog was driven off, and the youth dropped
from the branches to the ground.
Pick up your coat," said Jack, and do pretty
much as I tell you now, or there 'll be trouble.
None of your tricks this time "
He held the reins and the gun while he made
the fellow get into the buggy; then took his seat,
with the prisoner on his left and the gun on his
right, drove on to the traveled track, and turned
into the woods; the vigilant Lion walking close by
the wheel.


(To be contiined.)






HOW TO MAKE A BOAT.


HOW TO MAKE A BOAT.

BY FREDERIC G. MATHER.


ALMOST all boys who live near the water want to
own a boat, and it very often happens that the
only way they can get one is to build it themselves.
It is very well to do this, for, when they have done
their work well, they get not only a boat, but some
excellent experience in mechanical construction,
which can scarcely fail to be of use to them.
The object of this article is to tell boys how, with
a good deal of labor and a very little money, they
can build a boat for themselves.
The first thing to be done is to learn to swim--
that is, if you do not know how already. No boy
should have a boat who cannot swim. Any boat,
no matter how skillfully handled, may upset, and
any boy, no matter how careful he may be, may
fall out of a boat.
The next thing is to study carefully the plain
account here given of the building of a boy's boat.
Any boy who can use a plane, a saw, a bit-stock,
and a drawing-knife, can easily build a boat like


The next thing to do is to sweep the floor of your
workshop, so that there will be a clear space of
about fifteen feet square. Place the bottom board
at one edge of the space thus cleared, and draw the
line A B, which divides the width into equal parts.
S


-- --._ ,l','.1 1 -"."2 '
.41

-- -- V
ll' 1


\M i -. I


FIG. 2.-THE BRACES AND RIBS.


the one of which we are about to give the history Draw D E at right angles to A B. The points A
From the time she existed in the form of boards and B should be five feet three inches from c; and
until she floated gracefully in the water. D and E, each one foot from the same. This will
In the first place, you must go to the lumber- make A B ten feet six inches, and D E two feet.
yard or mill, and select two boards of clear pine, To mark the curved line A E B, drive a nail in
eleven or twelve feet long and one inch thick. the floor in the direction of D, and about fourteen
One should be wider than the other; but together feet three inches from E. Having made a loop
they should make a width of twenty-five inches. at the end of a piece of wire (string will stretch too
Have them planed on both sides, and a groove much to be accurate), you must bring the wire to
planed out of the edge of one board and a tongue the point E. The wire is your radius, and your
out of the corresponding edge of the other board. object is to hold a pencil at such a point that it will
When you have taken the boards home, buy a two- pass through the points A, E -and B. Your pencil
pound can of white lead. Fill the groove with this will easily hit A and B. If it falls outside of E, you
lead; then put the boards together, and drive the must move the board away from the nail; if it falls
tongue of one into the groove of the other. This between c and E, the radius is too long, and the
will make the joint water-tight. To keep the board must be moved toward the nail. Having
boards from spreading, tack three or four strips found the exact spot, draw the curved line A E B.
across the crack, and lay the whole on the floor Then turn the board around, end for end, and
with the strips downward. mark the line A D B in the same manner. Then
You will then have what is the same as one saw carefully along the curved lines, and you will
0 have cut out the bottom of your boat.
S --- --- The next step is to bevel the edges just sawed;
A .\ that is, to cut the wood away from the under side
S.- -- of the edge of the bottom board, so that the side
boards will easily be fitted to it.
E At H (Fig. 2) is an angle of 120 degrees. The
under edge must be cut off at this angle; but, as
board, eleven or twelve feet long and not less than you come toward the end, cut away less and less
two feet wide. This we will call the bottom board of the under edge, until at F you cut away scarcely
(Fig. I). any. Bevel the entire edge in the same way,


568


[JULY,


\r 1_ 4101.
Awl






HOW TO MAKE A BOAT.


taking great care to change the bevel gradually and
uniformly.
You must now fasten some hard-wood strips, one
inch square, upon the bottom. Lay one in the
middle (G H), and three toward each end, about
thirteen inches apart. Let them be long enough
for the ends to project an inch over each side.
Drive an inch-and-a-half screw through the middle
of each strip into the bottom.
Then turn over the bottom board and drive from
four to six screws the other way, as at I, taking
care to drive screws into each strip not more than
an inch from the crack between the boards, and
not rfore than that distance from the outer edge.
You would do well to put these screws in first,
and afterward put in as many others as may be
necessary to keep the bottom from warping. Use
the gimlet and countersink, and dip the screws into
oil or paint before driving them. The heads of all
the screws, which are drawn large in the cut so as
to show distinctly, should be below the surface.
The ends of the strips, or braces as we will now
call them, should be sawed off to correspond with
the bevel of the edge which is just below them.
You will now need fourteen pieces of the inch-
square hard-wood. They are for the ribs, and
each one should be one foot long. Fit one of the
ribs to each end of the middle brace, so that the
angles at G and I-I will be 120 degrees. Fasten the
Sribs to the brace by an angle-iron (H), which any
blacksmith can make. A temporary brace (s)

p*


l -
V U
--



-- ---- .. 'i



FIG. 3.-THE SIDES.

should be nailed into the ribs, G and H. A tri-
angular piece (F), called the "dead-wood," is
fastened with a block at an angle of 120 degrees
with the bottom.
You must do the same with the other end of the
bottom, which does not show in Fig. 2. You will
then have seven braces, two ribs, and two dead-
woods, all fastened to the bottom of the boat.
The boards for the sides should be of half-inch
pine or three-eighths-inch ash. They should be of
VL. IL--37.


uniform thickness, with both sides smoothly planed.
The length, fourteen feet; and the breadth, four-
teen inches. Mark the exact middle of one of the
boards, and place that mark against the rib H
(Fig. 3). Let the lower edge project four inches
below the bottom, and fasten the side to the rib
with about five screws.
Now fasten the other side to the rib G in like
manner. Tie a string around the ends at T, so
that they will not spread. Bring the other ends,
K p


-----------" L
0
FIG. 4.-THE DECK AND CURVED BRACES.
at F, as near to each other as possible, and confine
them with a string. Commence at H to fasten the
side upon the bottom. Put in inch-and-a-quarter
screws, about three inches apart. When you have
reached the first brace, put the rib U in place and
fasten it.
Pass to the other side, and fasten the bottom
edge from G to v, and also the rib v. Return now
to the first side, and fasten from U to w and the
rib w. Do this alternately until you are within a
foot of the end, F. You will then be obliged to
cut off the ends of the side boards, in order to bring
them up to the dead-wood at F.
This process is shown more plainly in Fig. 4.
Your boat now looks something like Fig. 3 ; and
the same course is to be followed as you commence
at G and H and fasten toward the end, T.
The edge of the boat is rough, and the ribs pro-
ject, as appears from K to P in Fig. 4. Having
marked o, nine inches, and z, eleven inches, you
must trace a gradual curve each way from the
middle. Be very careful about this, especially as
you saw through ribs and all while following the
mark. One edge in Fig. 4 is cut off in this way.
The under edge is easily trimmed so as to be even
with the lower surface of the bottom board.
The ribs nearest the ends should be connected
at the top by the curved braces, K and L. A
straight brace should extend from the middle of
the curved brace to the top of the dead-wood.
The corners which were left when you sawed out
the bottom will now be of use. From them you
can cut sixteen triangular pieces for brackets to
support the deck. Let these brackets be upon
each edge, seven, six, and five inches respectively.
They are to be fastened half-way between the ribs
with screws from the outside. The screws enter
the edge which is six inches long, leaving the five-
inch edge to receive the deck. Quarter-inch pine
makes the best deck, and the fewer pieces in the


569






HOW TO MAKE A BOAT.


570


deck the better it will be. The greatest breadth
of the boat across the deck will vary, according to
the manner in which you have done the work. It
ought to be about three feet two inches, and the
extreme length twelve feet. For security, it is well
to fix a ring and staple in each end of the deck.
Benches or stools make good seats, but these
you can arrange according to your fancy. A false
bottom of slats will help to preserve the true bot-
tom. You can fit a rudder to either end, if you
choose.
A paddle can be used to good effect in propelling
such a boat as this, but oars are better. For oar-
locks you can have simple pegs set in a block,
which is firmly screwed to the edge of the deck; or
you can buy iron oar-locks which fit into a hole in
a block which is fastened as above; or you can
have iron arrangements like Fig. 5 made at the
blacksmith's. There may be two of these, each
made of inch horseshoe iron. They pass through
plates of one-eighth-inch iron, screwed into the
deck and into the bottom, and are eighteen and
a-half inches long. They are straight for thirteen
inches of this length, and are finished with a
thimble in which the pin of the iron oar-lock can
play.
All the carpenter-work of the boat is now com-


pleted, and you must turn your attention to the
painting. After the first coat, or priming, paint
two other coats of whatever color you wish. Upon



S--


FIG. 5.-IRON SUPPORT FOR OAR-LOCK.
your choice of a color for the body will depend
the color for the trimmings. If your own taste
is not reliable, perhaps your friends will advise you
how to paint.
At length, having followed these directions, you
will have the satisfaction of launching your craft;
and if it be carefully constructed, it will prove to
be a very safe and a very useful boat, and not least
among the pleasures you will experience will be
that of having made it all yourself.


iA-T
___ _. .
------ .--@-C- -=-=---, -. --.--






FIG. 6.-THE BOAT COMPLETE.








LITTLE Peri-Winkle,
With her eyes a-twinkle,
Said, I am going to the ball to-night."
But nobody could wake her,
Hard as they might shake her,
For she went to sleep with her eyes shut tight,
And never waked up till the sun shone bright.


[JULY,






1875.1 MARIGOLD HOUSE. 571


MARIGOLD HOUSE.

BY SARAH 0. JEWETT.


SI WONDER if you remember a story, printed in
ST. NICHOLAS for last September, called "My
Friend the Housekeeper?" It was about a girl
named Nelly Ashford, whose father had a play-
house built for her in the garden, which play-house
was like a real house, only smaller, with a little
entry-parlor and kitchen in it. This was Marigold
House.
It might have been better to have said in the
first story that Nelly wished her house to have a
name, and that it took a whole evening to make
choice of one. Finally, Aunt Bessie happened to
think that the housekeeper was very fond of mari-
golds, and that Mrs. Ashford had told the gardener
to plant some under the windows and in the bor-
ders near by; so she said: "Suppose we call it
Marigold House ?" and this name suited every-
body.
There was only one thing that Nelly wished
might be added to the outside or inside of her
play-house, and this was a door-plate, with Miss
Nelly Ashford" on it in printing letters. The
grown people laughed when she mildly suggested
this; but the door-plate was ordered, nevertheless,
and her considerate aunty even asked if she would
also like a number on the door.
Nelly thought there was no need of that, and
also refused the offer of 'lightning-rods, kindly
made by grandmamma.
All through the vacation, Nelly, and Alice Den-
nis, who was her best friend, spent most of their
time at Marigold House. All.the children from
the houses near came often to play with them, and
there were several tea-parties which were capital
fun. The guests could not help envying Nelly,
for nobody had ever seen half so nice a play-house
before, and at tea-time the low table, the new blue
and gold tea-set, and the little napkins, were per-
fectly fascinating.
There was a great deal of sewing to be done, for
the dolls' clothes had to be made ready for Summer
as fast as possible, as the children insisted that
nearly all the last Summer's clothes had been out-
grown and must be altered, so making themselves
a great deal of work, and the kitchen was almost
neglected for several days at a time.
Aunt Bessie did not go home to Boston with
grandma, for she liked so much being in the
country, and she used to come out to the play-
house often with her painting, and tell stories, and


sometimes sing, while the children sewed and took
care of the dolls.
But our friends' fondness for dress-making did
not last long, and the kitchen proved much more
interesting. Miss Bessie gave them one day a lit-
tle cook-book, with recipes for making cake and
one or two puddings, and oat-cakes, which pleased
them very much. She printed it herself with pen
and ink, and instead of cupfuls and pounds of
sugar or flour, she had reduced the measures to
spoonfuls, and had tried these doll recipes" her-
self, to be sure they were right. The first attempts
were not very successful; but, after a week or so,
they had learned to cook several things very well,
and there was such continual feasting that Mrs.
Ashford and Mrs. Dennis had to make a rule that
they must never cook but one thing each day, or
carry out provisions from the big house without
special permission, and that they could only have
one party a week. The children were required to
keep everything tidy about the kitchen, and they
soon learned to be orderly; but at first they had a
fashion of putting away sticky dishes and forgetting
to wash them.
Once, Nelly was away for a few days, and when
she came back there was blue-mold on some un-
successful cake she had carefully stored away in the
kitchen-closet, and this gave such a shock to her
feelings that she was much more careful afterward.
The little cooks became most expert in making
plum-puddings, which even Mrs. Ashford, who was
very dainty, said were delicious. These puddings
were made of pounded crackers, with sugar and
spice, and an egg and some milk, with a great
many raisins and currants, besides some bits of
citron. Nora taught them to make sauce for it;
and they achieved great renown among their
friends, great and small, beside learning much
about housekeeping and cooking which they will
not forget.
I think I must tell you about the day of the
grand dinner-party. It was when Nelly had been
at housekeeping several weeks. Mr. and Mrs.
Ashford were away, and Miss Bessie had gone to
spend the day with a friend, and on the way asked
Edith and Mary Talbot, two nice girls, to go down
to Marigold House to lunch. Alice Dennis was
already there, of course; and after they had all
been talking for a few minutes, making various
plans for the work and enjoyment of the day, Alice







MARIGOLD HOUSE. [JuLY,


said: "I mean to have a dinner-party instead of
lunch; mamma said we might have what we
pleased."
Nelly's guests were usually entertained in the
kitchen on such an occasion as this, and, indeed,
would have felt defrauded if they had not been
allowed to help with the cooking.
Nelly looked in the closet to see what was needed,
and then ran into the great house to get supplies
from the cook. Nora was .particularly good-
natured, and gave her potatoes to bake, some cold
roast chicken and bread, filled her grocery-boxes



i ,'" '




,' ,' i .i i


; 1 ; P i ,"
.i . ..



"' ;r / -.- ..
4ll


a little rice. The cook had used beef-bones, she
thought, but it was likely any meat would do as
well; so our friends took some of the roast chicken
and put it on to boil. Then each took a knife to
slice the vegetables. Nobody wished to cut up
the onions, for they make one's eyes smart so
dreadfully; so they chopped them a little on the
outside with a knife, and dropped them in whole.
The other things were cut as fine as possible, and
as fast as they were ready Alice stirred them in.
There was a great deal of tasting done, but for
some time there was no flavor, when they remem-


COOKING THE DINNER.


and the big milk-pitcher, and then gave her some
strawberries that had been left from breakfast; so
my friend the housekeeper and one of the others
had to make two voyages to carry everything out.
It was a very busy morning. They made a plum-
pudding of extra size and superior sweetness and
fruitiness, and stoned all the raisins for it, which
they commonly omitted to do. Then they under-
took to make some soup. Alice had watched the
cook at home do it several times, and was sure she
knew how. So she and Edith went over to the
vegetable garden, and came back with carrots,
onions, beets, and radishes, though she was n't
quite sure the last-named two belonged with the
rest. There must be some potatoes and meat and


bered it ought to have pepper and salt, and it is
not surprising that they got in altogether too
much, so that it was worse than when it had no
taste at all.
Poor Mary Talbot had the bad luck to swal-
low a large lump of dry pepper which had not been
stirred in, and so it seemed to her more highly
seasoned than it did to the rest, and she said, as
soon as she could speak: "Can't we put more
water in ?"
This seemed to be a sensible idea, but the little
kettle was already full, so they dipped half the
soup out into the other kettle, and filled both up
with water. The potatoes and the pudding were
baking well, so they went into the parlor and en-


[JuLv,


MARIGOLD HOUSE.







MARIGOLD HOUSE.


joyed the society of the dolls for a season, then
began to set the table and get ready for dinner.
Now we must have some names," said Nelly.
"I am going to be Queen Victoria, and you are
great ladies come to dine with me."
It was finally decided that Alice should be the
Princess of Wales; Edith, Mary Queen of Scots;
and Mary, the Empress Eugenie. And then, with
great state and majesty, Queen Victoria went out
to the kitchen to take up the soup.
She was very sorry that she had no dinner-set,
for the tea-set was, in some respects, inconvenient,
though she could manage well enough except in
the question of a soup-tureen; but one could easily
pretend that the bright tin pan she was obliged to
use was silver, and the only trouble about the
saucers was that they were small and shallow;
but, as it was a State banquet, there was no hurry
at all, so they could be filled often.
The company were seated, and just ready to
begin, when there was a loud ring at the door.
Your Majesties will please excuse my leaving
the table," said Queen Victoria; but my servants
are all busy. I hope it is nobody coming to call;
but I shall ask them into the kitchen, unless it is
somebody very nice."
On the door-step stood an odd-looking little old
woman, with a big black bonnet, and a wide white
cap-frill underneath, and a pair of huge green
spectacles.
How do you do, miss ?" said she, with a sudden
courtesy, which nearly made Nelly laugh; but she
managed to say:
I 'm very well, thank you."
Would n't ye take pity on a poor would ooman
as has to travel all the way to Bostin by her lone
self, an' had nothing' to ate since 'arly this mor-nin',
an' her heart failin' her entirely wid hunger? I
can see it's a fine, kind little shild ye are, by yer
two blue little eyes; and sure, I '11 tell ye a fine
story while I rist mesilf."
Wont you please wait a minute ?" said Nelly,
and she ran in to ask the others what she had
better do. She 's a clean old woman," said our
friend, and she says she will tell us a story. We
have ever so much more dinner than we can eat,"
adding, virtuously: "Mamma never wishes beg-
gars to go away hungry, and she always tells me
to be very kind and polite to poor people. I
should n't like to be hungry and tired if I were a
poor old woman."
Their Majesties thought it would be great fun,
and her Royal Highness of Great Britain and Ire-
land turned to go out and ask the guest to come
in, but first had the thoughtfulness to say that
perhaps they had better not tell her whom they
were, as she might be frightened.


We have cooked most of the dinner ourselves," *
said Nelly, "but we hope it is good, and, at any
rate, there is chicken and bread and butter."
My heart! my heart !" said the old woman,
as she came in at the door; "and aint this the
swate little house Would n't I like the mate to it
to be restiri' me old bones in and I wanderin'
about the highways, that might be grandmother to
all of yez. Och but I had the tidy little house in
Ould Ireland, with my bit of a pig in a nate sty
forninst the door. Indade, miss, and the likes of
me would niver make bould to sit down at the
same table with yez. Give me a bit of bread in me
hand."
"Oh, no !" said Nelly, hospitably; "you can
sit right here. I 'll move the dolls closer together.
I 'mi glad you happened to come to-day, for I have
a better dinner than usual-there are five courses !"
at which information the old woman looked rather
blank.
So the hostess explained that there was-first,
soup, and then chicken and potatoes, and next,
plum-pudding, then strawberries, and, lastly, lit-
tle-biscuit" and milk.
May the saints preserve ye said the guest.
"My heart! and aint it the weary long day since
I had a dinner like that! and, without any more
urging, she sat down at the table.
Nelly thought as she was so hungry that she
would like more soup at once than the saucers
held, so she went to the kitchen and found a nice
white pint bowl, which the cook had lent her. She
filled this with hot soup, and, remembering that
Nora was fond of onions, she generously dipped out
the two big ones that had been put in for flavoring,
and carried it in triumphantly with both hands, the
onions floating conspicuously on top.
The beets, which had, unfortunately, been boil-
ing longest, had given it a most uninviting color,
and there were bits of carrots and raddish and
turnip, not to speak of potatoes and chicken-
bones.
Here is some nice hot soup for you, and I gave
you all the onions," said my friend the house-
keeper, while the other guests looked on admir-
ingly.
The Irishwoman hesitated a minute, then tasted
the undesirable-looking stew, but was instantly
seized with a severe fit of coughing, and buried her
face in her calico apron, while the children sat in
great suspense,* fearing she might choke.
Wirra, wirra said she after awhile; "but
the pepper in it was near the death of me, and what
would I do and no praste near ? Bless your pretty
hearts, it's a fine soup; but I had a cough this tin
years back, and the docther said mesilf could ate
no bit of pepper at all, at all; and-well, I'm


x87s.]


573







MARIGOLD HOUSE.


* 'shamed to be turning away from yer kindness, but
I 'd best ate no more."
It is strong of pepper," said Alice, looking
quite crest-fallen ; and it's very strong of those
horrid onions I wish we had n't put them in;
but never mind, I shall know how exactly, next
time."
The cold chicken was eaten by all the company
with great satisfaction; the potatoes were baked
just right, and the pudding was a grand success,
for the old woman asked if she might make so bold
as to ask for another piece, which compliment was
graciously received.
By the time the strawberries were served, she
was chattering in the most amusing way, and
seemed to have quite forgotten her weariness; in
fact, the children thought her one of the most
charming persons they had ever seen. Some-
times they could hardly sit in their chairs, they
laughed so hard. She praised everything extrava-
gantly, and told them proudly that she once cooked
for a gintleman's family, and if anybody knew a
good dinner when she saw it, it was Biddy Sullivan.
And then she went on to tell a long story about
her husband, one Larry Sullivan, who had been
dead (" Hiven rist his soul ") thirteen years come
Christmas.
The children were very sympathizing, and, after
some further particulars of her life in the old
country, she gave them their choice of two stories:
"The Little Cakeen" or "The Bad Son and the
Good Son."
Oh, I don't want to hear the Cakeen story!"
said Nelly. I 'm so tired of that. I used to like
it, and now Aunt Bessie tells it to tease me. I 've
heard the other one too, but I like that ever so
much."
"Whist, thin said Mrs. Biddy Sullivan. I
likes the other best mesilf, an' it having such a fine
ind to it "
Then she drew a long breath, afterward putting
her tongue out at the corner of her mouth in a
meditative way, and then began.
She had left the dinner-table, and was sitting
with her back to the light, which she said hurt her
eyes. She still wore her big green spectacles, and
had refused to take off her big reddish cotton
gloves. I believe I have not told you that she said
she was going to Boston to have her eyes doctored,
and had requested them to give her money.
"An' it was once, long ago, in the would coun-
thry," said Mrs. Biddy, "there was livin' a fine,
clane, honest, poor widdy woman, an' she havin'
two sons, an' she fetched the both of 'em up fine
and careful, but one of them turned out bad in-
tirely. An' one day says she to him, says she:
I've given you your livin' as long as iver I


can, and it's you must go out into the wide worruld
to sake your fortune.'
'Mother, I will,' says he.
An' will ye take a big cake wid me curse, or
a little cake an' me blessing?' says she.
The big cake, shure,' says he.
So she baked a big cake and cursed him, and
he wint away laughing By and by he came
forninst a spring in the woods, and sat down to ate
his dinner off the cake, and a small, little bird sat
on the edge of the spring.
Give me a bit of that cake for me little ones
in the nest,' says she; and he caught up a stone to
throw at her.
I've scarce enough for meself,' says he; and
she bein' a fairy, put her bake in the spring and
toorned it black as ink, and wint away up in the
trees. And whiles he looked for her to kill her, a
fox wint away wid his cake.
So he wint away from that place very mad, an'
nixt day he stopped, very hungry, at a farmer's
house, and hired out for to tind the cows.
Be wise,' says the farmer's wife, for the next
field is belongin' to a giant, and if the cows gets in
his clover he will kill you dead as a shtone.'
But the bad son laughed and wint away out to
watch the cows; and before the noon-time he wint
to slape up in a tree, and the cows all wint in in the
clover, an' out comes the giant and shook him
down out of the tree an' killed him dead, and that
was the ind of the bad son.
And by the next year the poor widdy woman,
says she to the good son:
'Ye must go out into the wide worruld and
sake your fortune, for I can kape you no longer,'
says she.
Mother, I will,' says he.
'An' will ye take a big cake wid me curse, or
a little cake wid me blessing?'
"' The little cake,' says he.
"So she baked it for him and gave him her
blessin', and he wint away, an' she a-weepin' after
him foine and loud. An' by and by he came to the
same spring in the woods where the bad son was
before him, and the small, little bird sat again on
the side of it.
Give me a bit of yer cakeen for me little ones
in the nest,' says she.
'I will,' says he, an' he broke her off a foine
piece, and she dipped her bake in the spring and
toorned it into sweet wine; and when he bit his cake,
shure an' she had toorned it into a fine plum-cake
entirely; an' he ate and drank and wint on light-
hearted. And nixt he comes to the farmer's house.
'Will ye tind cows for me ?' says the farmer.
I will,' says the good son.
"'Be wise,' says the farmer's wife, 'for the


574


[JULY,







:875.1 MARIGOLD HOUSE. 575


clover-field beyant is belongin' to the giant, an' if
ye lave in the cows he will kill you dead.'
"'Never fear!' says the good son; 'I don't
slape at me worruk.'
"And he goes out in the field and lugs a big
stone up in the tree, and thin sinds very cow far
out in the clover-fields and goes back ag'in to the
tree. An' out comes the giant a-roarin' so you
could hear the roars of him a mile away; and
when he finds the cow-boy, he goes under the tree
to shake him down, but the good little son slips
out the big stone, an' it fell down and broke the
giant's head entirely. So the good son wint run-
ning away to the giant's house, and it bein' full
to the eaves of gold and diamonds and splindid
things !
See what fine luck comes to folks that is good
and honest! An' he wint home and fetched his
old mother, an' they lived rich an' continued, and
died very old and rispicted."
That's a nice story," said Edith, and Nelly re-
marked that it was exactly the way that Aunt
Bessie used to tell it.
"Would n't it have been awful if the stone
had n't hit the giant ?" said Mary, who was timid;
while Alice Dennis said, "Now please tell us an-
other."
I must be going now," said the widow Sullivan.
"Bless your innocent hearts !"
Oh, I wish you could stay a little longer !" said
Nelly. My Aunt Bessie will soon be home. She


has lots of money, and I know she will give you
some, so you need n't walk to Boston."
But now, to their great astonishment, the guest
laughed and pulled Nelly into her lap and kissed
her, and, taking off the big gloves, threw them at
Alice with a very small white hand; and next off
came the green glasses and the bonnet, and there
sat Miss Bessie herself!
You dear little geese said she. I must n't
cheat you any longer; but it has been such fun I
I supposed you would find me out in the first ten
minutes."
And then there was such a frolic !
"I came nearest laughing when you came in
with that odd red soup with the big onions," said
Aunt Bessie, for you know I don't like onions at
all. And I was sure you would suspect when I
asked if you would like to hear the Cakeen story.
But the best part of it was that you were all so
sweet and kind and ladylike, and did your very
best to make a poor old woman comfortable. I
could n't help feeling a little ashamed at being
only a naughty older girl who was deceiving you.
But I '11 help you clear away the dinner if you like,
and then we will have a drive."
Oh, darling Aunt Bessie you are so funny "
said Nelly, and then they all laughed again. It
began to rain, so they could n't go to drive; but
Miss Bessie stayed at Marigold House all the after-
noon, and My Friend the Housekeeper and her
cronies had some capital fun.


HELLO !






576


A GLANCE AT RHINELAND.


[JULY,


A GLANCE AT RHINELAND.

BY E. D. SOUTHWICK.


BACHARACH, ON THE RHINE,

THERE is nothing I should enjoy better than to joying the view, taste some "dragon's blood; for
take a party of bright boys and girls on a visit to tradition says that a great dragon lived among
"Rhineland." these mountain crags when the castle was in its
We would start from Cologne, where we would glory, and was slain by valiant knights, since which
first see all the sights. We would have the grand- time all the wine made there, being very red, is
est time imaginable, for we would stop just where called his blood. Going on up the river, we should
we liked. We would ride up the Drachenfels on pass the Isle of Nonnenworth, where the daughter
little gray donkeys, and scamper all over the old of the Lord of Drachenfels died in a convent, be-
castle (what there is left of it). Then, while en- cause she believed that her lover, the Lord of







RHINELAND.


Rolansdeck, had been killed in the war, though he
really was safe, and returned to mourn his life
away in his castle above the isle.
I can't tell you of all the places we would see.
But we certainly should stop at Coblenz, and visit
Ehrenbreitstein (Honor's broad stone) just oppo-
site, the strongest fortress on the Rhine ; and, after
finding out all we could about it, take steamer up
the Moselle, which flows in just there. Then we
should land at Treves, the most ancient city on
our route-so old that no one knows when it had a
beginning. History relates, however, that when
Julius Caesar first led the Roman armies into this
part of Europe, fifty-eight years before Christ,
Treves was the flourishing capital of a great nation,
and that afterward many Roman emperors and
princes lived there. Indeed, many interesting
relics of them still remain, such as a gate-way,
built in the year 318 by Constantine the Great; a
bridge which was in use in the reign of Augustus,
twenty-eight years before Christ; an arena, nearly
as old; and, in fact, that our visit would be almost
equal to going to Rome itself.
Back again upon the Rhine, we would stop to
climb up to the Castle of Stolzenfels, which, being
the property of the Emperor of Germany, has been
thoroughly restored, and is now the most beautiful
specimen of a castle of the Middle Ages anywhere
to be seen. It was built by the Princes of Treves,
many of whom lived there, and in 1235 was the
scene of great festivities, when the Emperor Fred-
erick II. lodged there with his bride, an English
princess. This single castle would pay us for such
a journey; but many more come in our way.
Two-" The Cat" and "The Mouse"-are not far
apart; the former called so from its ancient owners,
whose name meant Cat's-elbow." They used to
quarrel with the Lords of The Mouse," but were
always beaten. This castle, although built in 1363,
is one of the most perfect on the Rhine, and we
would wander through its halls, and hunt for dun-
geons, if you liked.
Just beyond these two is Rheinfels, the largest
ruin of all, standing on a rock 368 feet above the
river. It was built by one of the "Cat's-elbow"
princes in 1245, who made it his home, and ex-
acted tolls for all merchandise that passed. But
he became so severe in his exactions, that the
neighboring traders besieged the castle for fifteen


months, but could not take this stronghold. It was
not long after, however, that sixty cities united
against these robber knights, and in a few years
dismantled all their castles.
The Rheinfels' nearest neighbor is the picturesque
ruin of Schonberg-" Beautiful Hill "-which was
named for seven beautiful daughters of its lord, who,
tradition says, were all so hard-hearted that they
would show no favor to any of the young knights
who came to the castle, and were therefore changed
into seven rocks, which may now sometimes be
seen in the rivers.
In the little towns lying below each castle, we
should catch many glimpses of ancient grandeur,
such as our illustration affords; quaint, yet beauti-
ful houses, Gothic churches, and scenes of quiet
peasant life.
Bacharach, a picture of which you see on the
opposite page, lies about twenty-six miles south
of Coblenz, and holds one of the most important
positions on the river. It is enclosed by old walls,
which had in former days twelve towers for defense,
each open on the side nearest the town, probably
to prevent their being used against it, if in posses-
sion of an enemy. Its name came from "Bacchi-
ara,"-the altar of Bacchus,-the name of a rock
in the river, which is sometimes seen in dry seasons;
and its appearance is always hailed with joy, as it.
promises a great vintage. The wine made here
is very valuable. As early as 1460, Pope Pius II.
imported a tun of it every year to Rome; and it is
said that the city of Nuremberg obtained its free-
dom in return for four casks of it sent annually to
the Emperor Wenzel by her devoted citizens.
The ruin on the heights is all that is left of the
Castle of Stahleck, for hundreds of years the resi-
dence of the Electors who ruled the Rhineland;
but as it was destroyed in the thirteenth century,
we should not see much, after a climb there, of the
ancient glory, excepting the grand and extended
view of the Rhine, that river which the Germans
as a nation have always regarded with such deep
reverence and affection.
This is not all, but it wont do to say any more
now. I certainly hope that as we cannot all go
together, you will see and enjoy the Rhineland for
yourselves sometime, for it will be a pleasure as.
long as you live, and you will be sure to want to.
go again.


GLANCE AT







THE HORSE AND THE WOLF.


THE HORSE AND THE WOLF.

BY SUSAN COOLIDGE.


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[A prowling wolf espied a horse grazing in the field. "Aha cried he, "a prize: but how to manage ? A horse is not easy prey,
like a sheep. I must try some trick." So he drew near and introduced himself as a doctor. "You must be ill," he told the horse,
"or they would not have turned you out to graze. Tell me your disease; I can cure it, whatever it is." "I have a swelling on the
under side of my foot," replied the horse. Let me examine," said the wolf, making ready for a snap. Suddenly the wary horse flung
wide his heels and threw the wolf high in air. "Ah! he howled, as he limped away. This serves me right. I should not have quitted
my trade. Nature meant me for a butcher, not for a doctor."]


IN the front of the big house in the square, two
windows stood wide open one morning in June.
Every one who passed stopped and stared, for
nobody had ever seen a window open in the big
house before.
The big house faced the south. It should have
been bright, but it seemed as if the sun dodged its
duty, and shone everywhere else. Inside were
large dull rooms, which smelt of furniture, though
Mrs. Ursula, the housekeeper, dusted them every
day. Mrs. Ursula was tall and bony. She had
sharp eyes, with red rims to them, and large,
prominent teeth. Most people were afraid of her;
but she always trod softly, and spoke as if her
mouth were full of sugar, when she entered the
room where Governor Alden, the owner of the big
house, sat, surrounded with law books, and always
alone. He was an old man now; it was years
since he had governed anybody, but people called
him "the Gove'nor" still. Mrs. Ursula's place
was a capital one, everybody said. She ruled the
big house, and, when "the Gove'nor" died, she


would, no doubt, inherit his money; who else had
he to leave it to, poor old man ?
And now the windows stood open, and passers-
by stopped to wonder !
"What is it? Do you know?" asked one of
another.
"I know," squeaked a little boy, proud to be
wiser than the older people.
"What is it? Tell us quick!" exclaimed the
rest.
It's a girl. She came last night in the eight
o'clock 'bus. She 's pretty, too, you bet. I seen
her go in Bill took in her trunk. He says she's
the Gove'nor's granddaughter, and I guess Mrs.
Ursula don't like it much; she most bit Bill's head
off. Crickey!"
These remarks concluded, the little boy stood on
his head, by way of exclamation point!
The Gove'nor's granddaughter I did n't
know he ever had chick or child," said a man.
"Did n't you?" said old Mrs. Tibbetts. "0
yes. Sophy Alden' was the prettiest girl in this


578


[JuLt,







THE HORSE AND THE WOLF.


town; but she went and took up with a furriner,
and her Pa cut her off. So her dartier's come
here to live, has she ? Well, well "
While the people thus wondered outside the
house, Mignon Chevalier was wondering equally
inside. What sort of home was this-what sort of
a grandpapa? Why had he first looked at her in
such rigid silence; and then, after reading the
letter she brought, trembled and cried, and said:
" Take her away, Ursula; make her comfortable
-I must be alone?" How queer that a house
should be built all of wood; how different from the
houses she had been used to in France Why did
the people stare so at the windows ? She popped
out her head to see. Mrs. Tibbetts caught a
glimpse of it, framed in its bronze-brown curls,
the clear, frank eyes full of curiosity, and cried:
"Bless the girl! Don't she look pretty and
skittish She's the moral image of her Ma !"
Mignon heard; she smiled gayly, and kissed her
hand to the old woman.
It did not take long to make the child at home.
The old walls seemed to welcome her. The sun
took the house into favor, shone in at Mignon's
windows all day, and played bo-peep with her of
mornings. The very mice appeared glad of her
coming; they racketed about and squeaked glee-
fully from their hiding-places. All things rejoiced
over the young, happy creature. All but grand-
papa. He dared not rejoice. His new-found hap-
piness was mixed with constant anxiety. This was
in great part the fault of Mrs. Ursula. She knew
that he was afraid of French people, and disliked
them; and she never lost a chance of reminding
him that Mignon was half French.
"I ought to be getting Miss Chevalier some
Summer frocks," she would say. But perhaps I
had better let her choose them. The French have
so much taste in dress." Or, "I told Biddy to
make one of those thin soups the French are so
fond of. I thought, perhaps, Miss Mignon would
enjoy it. But I'm afraid it's not very good." Or,
" I 'm sure I beg your pardon, sir, if I misunder-
stood; but Miss Mignon gave me the message,
and I can't always make out what she says. She
has such a foreign accent! "
Mignon's accent was a little foreign, but she
spoke English very prettily, and only an envious
person could have found fault with her, she was so
amiable, fresh, and gay. The old Governor felt
the charm. Left to himself he would soon have
loved her dearly. When she put her sweet face to
his, and kissed him good-night, his heart warmed
with pleasure. But then came Mrs. Ursula say-
ing : Miss Mignon is French, you know, and I
am only used to American girls. They are so
different "


Meantime, when alone with Mignon, she pre-
tended to like her very much. She praised and
flattered her, and asked leave to curl that beauti-
ful hair."
But, though Mignon was gracious and polite, in
her heart she was afraid. Mrs. Ursula's large
teeth, and the expression of her red eyes, made
her think of a wild beast.
I feel like Red Riding Hood," she said to her-
self once, and then she laughed.
So the Summer passed. If she had not been the
brightest and sunniest of girls, Mignon must some-
times have been very lonely in that dull house,
with Mrs. Ursula for companion, and grandpapa,
who at times seemed so fond of her, at other times
shrinking away and becoming cold and stern.
But she hardly knew the meaning of the word
lonely. Outdoors one minute, indoors next, she
flashed about like a sunbeam, making friends of
every body and thing within her reach. Dogs,
cats, birds, currant-bushes, rose-vines, little boys,
babies-all were interesting to Mignon. Her light
feet echoed strangely in the long halls. People
who passed heard her singing, and remarked how
different the old house was now that she was there.
One day in August she came in with her lap full
of flowers, and grandpapa opened the study door
and called her:
Mignon, my child, I want you."
Mignon went in. Two gentlemen were there
whom she had never seen before. They were sit-
ting by the table, which was covered with papers.
Grandpapa put his arm about Mignon's shoul-
ders. This is she," he said; my only daugh-
ter's only child. Mr. Squires, Mignon, and Judge
Dubberly."
The gentlemen rose and bowed, and Mignon
made her courtesy very prettily.
"That will do," said grandpapa. "Now run
away, my dear." Mignon went, but she wondered
what it meant.
Mrs. Ursula wondered too, but she guessed
pretty well what it meant. She found a good deal
to do that morning in the pantry which adjoined
the study, and caught words which made her sus-
pect that the Governor was making his will. Mrs.
Ursula did not like this. The Governor had made
a will years before Mignon came, in which he left
Mrs. Ursula a legacy; she feared that he might
forget to do so now.
After awhile, the gentlemen left. Then the
Governor went into the dining-room, and opened
the iron safe in which he kept his papers. Mrs.
Ursula heard the sharp click of the closing door,
and was ready to fly with vexation and anxiety.
Two or three days after, something happened
that was very sad. Grandpapa came in from the


579







580 THE HORSE AND THE WOLF.


hot sun with a bad headache. That night fever set
in, and soon he was very ill.
He is an old man. There does n't seem much
chance for him," the doctor told his wife. He did
not say so to Mrs. Ursula, but she looked in his
eyes and guessed.
Mignon was grieved to have grandpapa sick.
Mrs. Ursula took all the care, and would not allow
her to do anything; but she would sit beside the
bed for hours at a time, fanning grandpapa, or
holding and stroking his hand. Sometimes she
would sing little French hymns, in her soft young
voice, and he always seemed to like to hear
them. But, after awhile, he was so very ill that
he did not know who was in the room or who
was not.
Then came a dreadful evening, when the doctor
looked graver than usual, shook his head, and
whispered that there was almost no hope. Mignon
was too unhappy to sleep, and, after Mrs. Ursula
thought her safe in bed, she stole back, and sat
down in a dark corner behind grandpapa's cur-
tains. There was nothing for her to do, but it
seemed a comfort to be there, rather than in her
lonely bedroom.
The house was very quiet. After awhile, Mrs.
Ursula came in on tiptoe with a candle, which she
shaded with her hand, as she stood beside the bed,
looking down at the Governor's face, so white and
still that it almost seemed dead.
She stood there a great many minutes; then,
moving noiselessly, she crossed the room, and
began to fumble in the closet. What was she
about? Mignon felt curious. She leaned forward
and saw Mrs. Ursula take a key out of the pocket
of grandpapa's waistcoat, which hung there. She
recognized it well; it was the key of the iron safe
in the dining-room.
Mignon was but thirteen, but, in spite of her
gay heart, she had a wise little head of her own,
and she knew very well that Mrs. Ursula had no
business with this valuable key. So, when the
housekeeper left the room and went softly down-
stairs, Mignon crept after, to see what was being
done.
Mrs. Ursula, standing before the open safe, had
no idea that just outside in the dark hall a pair of
indignant brown eyes were watching her every
movement. It was as she feared. The Governor
had made a new will. She read it from end to
end,-a small legacy to herself, all the rest to
Mignon. But something else lay in the drawer,
namely, the old will, which the Governor had not
yet destroyed, and in which Mrs. Ursula was left a
large legacy, while nothing at all was said of Mig-
non.
Mignon, watching, saw Mrs. Ursula's face change


when she spied this. Her eyes lighted up, she
showed her large teeth, and looked more like a
wolf than ever. She thought a moment, then took
the new will, laid it on the hearth, struck a match,
and set fire to the paper. It was only a moment
in burning up, all those long words which grand-
papa and the other gentlemen had spent a whole
morning over.
"There!" said Mrs. Ursula aloud, gazing on
the little heap of ashes. "There, Miss Mignon !
That does for you, I fancy "
She did not hear the light feet flit upstairs before
her. In the sick-room all was quiet; the Governor
lay asleep or unconscious, and Mrs. Ursula re-
joiced.
Only a day or two more," she thought; "then
I'll send that French chit packing about her busi-
ness !"
Does it not seem dreadful that any woman
should be so wicked? But we must remember that
she did n't become wicked all at once. It is the
tiny seeds of envy and greediness which we neglect
which take root in our hearts unchecked, and after
awhile crowd out all the good, and lead us to do
shocking things which once we should have shud-
dered at.
Mignon did not go to bed at all that night, but
slept in the big chair beside grandpapa. She felt
as if she wanted to watch over him. While she
slept the good Angel of Healing passed by and laid
his blessed hand on the poor old man. The doctor
looked surprised and glad when he came in the
morning. The fever had gone, he said; now
grandpapa might get well, only he would need the
best of nursing for a long time to come.
"I'll be nurse," cried Mignon. "1Tell me ex-
actly what to do, Doctor, and I'll do it beautifully.
Grandpapa will like to have me; wont you, grand-
papa ?" And the sick man smiled faintly and
nodded his head.
So the doctor gave directions, and that day, and
many days after, Mignon waited on grandpapa,-
the prettiest, brightest, kindest little nurse that
ever was. She wrote down all the orders about
food and medicine, she timed herself with grand-
papa's heavy old gold watch, and never once forgot
or made a mistake. Mrs. Ursula did not interfere,
for she was frightened almost out of her wits at the
thought of what she had done. It had never oc-
curred to her while she burned the paper that the
Governor might get well, and now she did not
know which way to turn.
At last she resolved to tell grandpapa that Mig-
non had meddled with the will and burnt it up by
accident. He'll take my word against that child's,
surely," thought she. Meantime, while getting
ready to make this accusation, she was very sweet


[ULY.






THE HORSE AND THE WOLF.


to Mignon, and caressed and flattered her more
than ever.
One day in early October, when grandpapa was
so much better as to sit up, Mignon, coming in
from a walk, heard a voice in grandpapa's room.
It was Mrs. Ursula's voice.
If you please, sir, have you the key of the
smoke-room ? "
I? No," replied the Governor.
Oh, then Miss Mignon must have it."
Mignon! Why what should she want with
that key ? She does n't care for hams and tongues,
Ursula."
I don't know I 'm sure, sir. She's a curious
girl, and she likes to unlock and turn things over.
I don't suppose there's a drawer in this house, or
a closet, that she has n't been into; even the iron
safe, though there's nothing in that but papers, to
be sure. The French are a singular people."
"What on earth should the child want of the
iron safe ?" remarked the Governor, surprised and
a little fretful, for he was a man who hated to have
his things meddled with.
Mignon went to her room quietly.
"How dare she tell such a falsehood?" she
thought; "but why did she want to tell it ?" She
felt that Mrs. Ursula was meditating mischief, and
she resolved to tell grandpapa about the burnt
paper as soon as he was a little stronger.
It was quite a festival in the big house the day
that grandpapa came down to dinner for the first
time. Biddy had prepared a feast. Mignon
adorned the room with chrysanthemums and late
roses. In the middle of the table was a bowl of
purple and white grapes trimmed with vine-leaves,
and the sun streaming in, shone on all,-on the
roses, the grapes, on grandpapa's white head, on
Mignon's curls of sunny brown, on the wood fire,
and the iron safe which stood in its recess grim and
black.
Grandpapa," asked Mignon as dinner ended,
and Mrs. Ursula set the dessert on the table,
what do you keep in there ?" pointing to the safe
with her finger.
Papers, child."
"And what papers do you keep in the second
drawer from the top on the right-hand side?"
Mrs. Ursula stared. Grandpapa was astonished,
and a little vexed. I


Why do you ask? he said.
"I will tell you," replied Mignon, speaking very
gravely and looking straight at Mrs. Ursula.
" One night when you were very, very sick, grand-
papa, and the doctor said he did not think you
could get well, Mrs. Ursula came into your room
and took the safe key out of your pocket. She did
not know I was there, but I was, and I crept after
her and watched her. She took a paper out of
that drawer and read it; then she took out
another paper and read that; then she laid one of
the papers in the fire-place, and set fire to it and
burned it up. I have not told you before, because
you were not strong, but I think I ought to tell you
now."
Is this true ?" demanded the Governor sternly.
Sir,-I-I- No, it is not true," stammered
the terrified Ursula.
Grandpapa rose and went to the safe. He
opened the drawer, took out the will, examined it.
Then-
You will notice what I do," he said, "and you,
Mignon."
He laid the paper on the logs. It flamed, then
blackened; he stood watching till it was quite
burned up.
"Now," he said, turning to the housekeeper,
Go Your wages shall be paid afterward; but I
do not wish to see you again."
Oh," groaned Mrs. Ursula, as she tied up her
bundles, "why did I do such a venturesome thing?
I shall never get a place like this again."
With her departed the evil spirit from the old
house. From that time Mignon became all in all
to grandpapa. Her youth and brightness made
him feel young; her affection cheered him; he
loved her tenderly and trusted her in all things.
Mrs. Tibbets says you are skittish,'" he said
one day. And you do make me think a little of
a colt in a pasture; you frisk about and toss your
head so, and seem.to enjoy being alive so much."
"Oh, I'm like a colt, am I ?" replied Mignon,
saucily. Well, grandpapa, you make me think
of a gallant old war-horse, who does n't go to bat-
tles any more, but has a good time at home. I
don't mind frisking by your side. Mrs. Ursula
always made me think of a wolf, do you know?
Now we've got rid of her, I can frisk with a light
heart and be content."


I r*
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DE AVIBUS QU.E DOMUS LUSORIAS FINGUNT.


DE AVIBUS QUAE DOMUS LUSORIAS FINGUNT.

SCRIPSIT JACOBUS C. BEARD.


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SOLLERTI nidorum usitatorum structure adeo
assueti sumus ut jam non miremur ita tenuem
jucundamque domum rebus ita variis collectisque
e locis ita diversis construi, atque modis ita artifici-
osis conjungi ab aviculis, que quidem nullis instru-
mentis nisi suis ipsorum rostris ungulisque utuntur.
Quid autem dicatis, si, aliquo mane verno, fre-
quentes hoe aves parvae, non in nido, sed in domo
lusoria elaborate incipiant, atque paucis post diebus
saltandi colludendique causa ad hanc domum illo
ipso consilio atque summa diligentia sollertiaque
structam se congregent? En nonne mirum nar-
ratur, vix credibile ?
Sunt tamen hujusmodi aves et ab iis tales ipsae
domus profecto construuntur. Sed ubinam gen-
tium ? In Australia, nec usquam alibi. Qua de
causa veri simile est vos has aves nunquam visuros
esse, ideoque ipsea, transmissa sui imagine, exora-
verunt ut vobis per SANCTI NICOLAr paginas coIm-
mendentur. Vocantur Chlamydere vel Trichila-
rum Aves, et in duo genera dividuntur. Eis quae in
picture exhibentur nomen est Maculatis Trichilarum


Avibus, quarum est color pulchre fuscus, maculis
luteis aureisve variatus, et in cervicibus apparent
torques vel quoddam collare ex pennis longis et
puniceis roseisve constans.
Domus autem lusoria vel trichila in altitudine
fere sesquipedalis plerumque est atque pedum
ternorum quaternorumve in longitudine. Primum
suggests aliquot digitos crassus fingitur, fiscina-
rum more vel textus vel plexus. Deinde graminis
herbs quum longer turn virgeam circumplexe com-
pagem, que in suggests mattaeve lateribus fixa
est, trichilam efficient; unde surgit quasi crypto-
porticus, non solum in partibus extremis aperta,
sed etiam et insuper et utrinque tecta. Necdum
omnia audivistis. Aves enim lusorium adornare
nmne pergunt, quam ad rem et conchis utuntur et
ossibus mundis albisque et pannis versicoloribus
et vitreis fractis et murrhinis et si quas alias res
lucentes reperire possunt. Nam tabaci fistula
et muliebre digiti munimentum in quadam harum
trichilarum et ipsa invent esse dicuntur; quin
etiam vir rerum nature peritissimus nos cer-


582


[JULYo






.THE BROOK.


583


tiores facit Australicos ipsos, si quodcunque orna- dirumpuntur, itaque trichile corbi vetustae et obso-
mentum portabile amiserunt, semper scrutantur lete similes fiunt. Resarcire trichilam aves non-
trichilas vicinas in quibus res quaesite sepe re- nunquam volunt; sed plerumque malunt denuo
periuntur. Trichile autem usu diuturno cor- contexere. Nec est hoc architects tam impigris et
ruunt ramaliaque, vento imbrique obnoxia, tandem tam sollertibus opus difficile.
[Translations of the above, received before the first day of August, will be duly acknowledged.]


THE BROOK.

BY MARY N. PRESCOTT.


THE little brooklet ripples along,
Every bubble singing a song;
It tangles the sun in its crystal skein,
And it answers back to the fretting rain;
Along its margin the ferns unfold,
And violets shapen out of the mold;
And the flag-flower leans, as if fain to snatch
A hint of the brooklet's musical catch,


While arrow-heads are wading out
To watch the flashing of silver trout.
Day after day, and night after night,
It seems to be running away out of sight;


But the way is long, and the path is rough,
And day and night are not long enough.
Orion looks on its quivering stream,
His belt and buckle upon it gleam,
And all the stars that haunt the sky
Reflect their splendor in passing by.
Oh, happy brooklet, that bears along
The skimming swallow's early song;


The secret of each neighboring nest,
Of lilies anchored on- its breast;
That every day, and perhaps forever,
Plays out of doors in all sorts of weather !


Nr-~:- -





584 FOR VERY LITTLE-FOLKS. [JULY,


THREE LITTLE DOGS.

TRIP.
THIS is Jane's dog Trip. See how fast he runs! He has been sent
with a note from Jane to her friend Kate.
Trip will run to Kate's house, and
scratch the door, and whine to be let in.
--. Then Kate will come and take the note,
Sand pat him on the head and say, Good
*~'& .- ^ -'"-- ^
Trip! how is Jane ?"
Bow, wow I" says Trip. That means,
"Jane is well; and how are you, Kate ?"
Kate says, Come in, Trip, and wait;
I will write back to Jane."
So Trip goes in, and jumps up by
\l. her chair, and barks, while she writes
her note.
TRIP Then she folds it, and writes Jane's
name on the back. Down at one side she puts these words, Care of
Trip." That means Trip is to take good care of the note, and not lose it.
Trip takes, the note in his teeth, and runs with it back to Jane, and
does not play by the way.
They think he is the best II ', ', ]'1 ,
dog in the world.


KATE has a dog too,
and his name is Jim. She .
does not send him with '!
notes, but he is a good dog, ---'''
and he is such a firm friend I '
to Kate's bird, Tom, that t- -
he will let Tom come and N--- 4 _
jump on his back, which is : ..
a nice soft and warm place---_
for the bird to rest on. J1M.
If Tom could say that he would like to have one or two hairs from
Jim's back to help make a nest, Jim would let him have them. But Tom





FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS.


cannot talk to Jim, or if he does chirp in the dog's ear, the dog does not
know what he means. But they are such good friends, and Tom is so
glad to see Jim, and Jim is so glad to see Tom, that they do not need
to know how to talk. So if Tom feels that he would like to have a hair
or two, he just takes them, and Jim does not mind it much.

ROB.
ROB is a good dog too, but he will bark when a man or a boy does
what he thinks is wrong. He is John Hale's dog. John is a friend
of both Kate and Jane.. --
Rob does not like -..:. .
bad dogs, and he will ,' *; ..." .
bite them if they are .-
not too big. One day
he saw a small dog who -
was so cross and mean
that he would bark at
all the girls who went
to school past his box
or house.
So Rob thought that
this small dog should
learn to keep cool; and
he took him in his a --a.
mouth and let him drop
in a pond. The small ---
dog did not like this, ROB.
and when he came out he went home as fast as he could, and to this day
he does not bark at the girls when Rob is near.
But if this cross small dog should fall into a pond or a creek, and if
he could not swim well, and so could not get out, and if Rob should come
by and see him in the pond, Rob would jump in and help him out all the
same as if he were a good dog; for Rob is kind to those who need his help,
but at the same time he knows how to treat those who are bad and mean.
There are some men and boys, and girls too, who might learn from
Rob a good deal that it would be well for them to know.
They might learn that we should not make friends with those who
are bad, but that we should do good to all who need our help, if they
are good or if they are bad.
Vot. 11.-38.


585







JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


J ACK- IN -T HE- PU LPI.T.


HURRAH for the Fourth of July, my dears I and
hurrah for the grand hundred years that have
passed over our country since she resolved to stand
up for herself and go it alone !
Hurrah, too, for the beautiful, glorious Summer
with its joy and music, its lessons of peace and
love, and, last not least, its delightful VACATION !
Ah! that is what Jack loves-the school vaca-
tion-when boys and girls swarm in the woods and
meadows, by the sea-shore, on the mountains, and
even among the wet stones of the noisy brooks !
Bless them How their voices ring, and how their
young hearts bound What wonder that in July
birds become wild with joy, and daisies nod, and
trees shake down their ripening fruit too soon ?
Jack does n't like to think of poor children in
cities at such times as this. It's awful. Do all
you can, my favored ones, toward helping those
little pale cheeks to wide sunlight and the breath
of flowers. Talk to the grown folk about it, and
so help to multiply free Summer excursions for
them. These free excursions for poor little ones
are great things. Dear, dear! How the birds do
try to sing their best on such occasions!
But enough. Let's have
TOM HUGHES ON FIGHTING.
IT is hard, you see, for a steady, peaceable Jack-
in-the-Pulpit to give you boys real, fire-crackery,
Fourth-of-July talk, such as, perhaps, you '11 expect
to find in the July ST. NICHOLAS; but here is
something that will answer very well. It's by
Tom Hughes, the great historian of the school-
boy. He is talking to the boys of England when
he says it; but, mind you, he expects them to be
sharp and get at its true meaning-not swallow it
whole, like a pill:
After all, what would life be without fighting, I should like to
know. From the cradle to the grave, fighting, rightly understood, is


the business-the real, highest, honestest business-of every son of
man. Every one who is worth his salt has his enemies, who must be
beaten, be they evil thoughts and habits in himself, or spiritual wicked-
ness in high places, or Russians, or Border-ruffians, or Bill, Tom, or
Harry, who will not let him live his life in quiet till he has thrashed
them.
CAN THE TELEGRAPH SINGP
THE birds are quite in a state of excitement up
our way over a new invention that has come to their
knowledge. It is called Gray's Telephone, and it
undertakes to sing jb telegraph / What say you
to that, my chicks? Yes, they say it can hum
"Home, Sweet Home," "Yankee Doodle," and
on Sundays, "Old Coronation"-hum them so
well that any one listening can tell the tune to a
certainty.
The newspapers have had accounts of this won-
derful thing; they say that, by means of his tele-
phone, Mr. Gray can sit down in Milwaukee and
play tunes for the instant enjoyment of friends in
Chicago. They say he did this very lately. What
is more, Mr. Gray knows your friend, Mr. Haskins,
Commander-in-Chief of the great Army of Bird-
Defenders-whose muster-roll appeared in the
June number of ST. NICHOLAS-and Mr. Haskins
has heard the telephone !
Electricity is a wonderful thing. The robins
and sparrows don't understand it at all-they think
it is only a tremendous system of bird-perches
stretching all over the country; but the owls--ah,
you ought to hear them hooting about electric
currents, and Franklin's kite, and Summer light-
ning, and cats' backs, when you boys and girls are
asleep !
GRAMMAR IN RHYME.
HERE is something useful. I heard ten little
tots reciting it at once, not long ago, to the pretty
schoolmistress as she sat upon the willow stump
smiling and nodding at them like a good one.
Three little words you often see:
The Articles a, an, and the.
A Noun's the name of anything,
As school, or garden, hooA or swing.
An Adjective describes the Noun,
As great, small, pretty, white or brown.
In place of Nouns the Pronouns stand,
As he or she, your arm, my hand.
Verbs tell of something to be done-
To read, con2t, laugh, sing, jum] or run.
How things are done, the Adverbs tell,
As slowly, quickly, ill or well
Conjunctions join the words together,
As men and women, wind or weather.
The Preposition stands before
A Noun, as in or though the door.
The Interjection shows surprise,
As Oh! how pretty"-"Ah! how wise."
The whole are called Nine Parts of Speech,
Which reading, writing, speaking teach.

THE COMPANY PLAN.
HERE'S something, my dears, that the editor of
ST. NICHOLAS said long ago to a crowd of young-
sters. As I never heard of its doing them any


586








JAC'K-IN-THE-PULPIT.


special harm, it occurs to me that it will not hurt
my little folks to hear it:
Did you ever notice what an amiable, pleasant feeling steals over
you when you are visiting and on your "good behavior? "-how
willing you are to overlook anything that interferes with your com-
fort ?-how anxious to please, and how ready to take an interest in all
that is going on ? At these times your face lights up, your voice
grows sweet and cheerful, your very movements become graceful.
"What pleasant persons these friends are! "you say to yourself;
and they very naturally consider you quite winning and delightful.
So far, so good. It is just as it should be.
Of course, when you go home you take all your pleasant ways with
you. If these friends who have known you but a little while, and
who care for you merely as friends, have power to brighten and
sweeten you, certainly when you return to your own relatives, who
love you so much more, you 'll be brighter and sweeter than ever.
Is it so ? Perhaps it is. But if, by any chance, it should not be-
if, for instance, you choose to let yourself be sour or indifferent at
home, thinking any tone of voice, any glum look, and any careless
word good enough for "the folks"-I'm sorry for you, that's all.
You lose a great deal of comfort, and you miss a great opportunity of
making others happy. But it is never too late to improve. Suppose
you try the company plan. Be polite, sunny, and charming at home.
Commence to-morrow-no, to-day. The home life is only a visit,
after all, for no family can remain together always.

THE INVENTOR OF THE WHEELBARROW.

IT takes a great man to do a little thing some-
times.
Who do you think invented that very simple
thing called a wheelbarrow ? Why, no less a man
than Leonardo da Vinci.
And who was he?
He was a musician, poet, painter, architect,
sculptor, physiologist, engineer, natural historian,
botanist, and inventor, all in one. He was n't
a Jack at all trades and master of none," either.
He was a real master of many arts, and a practical
worker besides.
When did he live?
Somewhere about the time that Columbus dis-
covered America.
And where was he born ?
In the beautiful city of Florence, in Italy.
Perhaps some of you may feel a little better ac-
quainted with him when I tell you that it was
Leonardo da Vinci who painted one of the grandest
pictures in the world,-" The Last Supper,"-a
picture that has been copied many times, and en-
graved in several styles, so that almost every one
has an idea of the arrangement and position at the
table of the figures of Our Lord and his disciples;
though I am told that, without seeing the painting
itself, no one can form a notion of how grand and
beautiful it is.
And only to think of the thousands of poor,
hard-working Americans who really own, in their
wheelbarrow, an original "work" of Leonardo da
Vinci !
STEP OVER.
MY bird-friends tell me that ostriches, notwith-
standing their long legs and their wonderful power
of running, never attempt to get over anything that
is more than a few inches high. A fallen log is an
impassable barrier to them, and, according to all
accounts, you could imprison them for life by sur-
rounding them with a fence hardly more than one
foot high! Now, it seems to me, from what I hear,
that there are a good many boys and girls of the
ostrich sort in this world-a very little thing


hinders them. Even when they are going in the
right direction, it's astonishing how easily they can
be turned back if a slight difficulty rises in their
path.
It ought not to be so, my chicks-and I don't
say it always is so. But it will never happen, if
always at the right moment, you will remember
the ostrich, and try to step over.
I 'm not talking about very big difficulties;
they are hills and mountains of another sort. The
little fallen logs and timbers in every-day life are
far more important, because there are so many of
them.
Davy Crockett said, Be sure you're right, then
go ahead "
To which Jack adds-and step over.

A LETTER FROM SCOTLAND TO THE TRAILING
ARBUTUS.
HEIGHO Here's trouble! Here have I been
keeping a letter for weeks and weeks, instead of
handing it over like a good Jack-in-the-Pulpit.
Sorry, but it cannot be helped now. Forgive
and forget." So, dear Arbutus, as I did the for-
getting, may be you'll do the forgiving, and call it
square.
DEAR ARBUTUS : I have read your correspondence with the Scotch
Heather, kindly forwarded to ST. NICHOLAS by Jack-in-the-Pulpit;
and I am pleased to observe the friendly relations subsisting between
your dainty little ladyship and my hardy old crony of the mountain.
But I want to say a word about the Heaths. The "Cape Heath,"
dear, is very different from the Scotch Heather. Its home is at the
Cape of Good Hope, where there are three hundred species, many of
them twenty feet high. When they come to see us m Scotland, the
people put them in beautiful glass houses by themselves, where
they blossom all over in a profusion of delicate bells, some of them
two inches long, and of every shade of pink and purple, with waxen
white and brilliant yellow. There are only two kinds of these showy
Heaths in Scotland. One is a pale rose-color, the other deep crimson.
They grow in tufts and clusters, here and there; but your true
Heather covers many a mile of moor and mountain, and, from the
profusion of its tiny pink blossoms and close, thick leaves, has a
purple effect at a distance. It grows from a few inches to. several
feet high, according to circumstances, and varies considerably in
depth and shade of color. One rare variety is pure white. It is so
full of honey that the bees love it dearly.
None of the Heaths are blue, but we Bluebells like to live amongst
them, and perhaps from this cause it has sometimes been supposed
that the Heather itself is blue. The Blue, or Harebell, however, is
not the same as the wild Hyacinth, whose lovely drooping flowers
make all the lowland woods and pastures fragrant in Spring and early
Summer. The Bluebell is a true mountain maiden, haunting the
bare rocks and wild hill-sides, coming into bloom with her beloved
companions, the Heathbells and Heather, and lingering with them
till the advent of the frost and snow.
And now, hoping you will excuse this long letter, and trusting that
you have had a most happy blossoming, I remain your loving friend,
THE BLUEBELL OF SCOTLAND.

SPELLING OUT OF SCHOOL.
THE children had a good joke lately. They
were picnicking in our meadow, and one of them
suddenly asked the pretty school-mistress:
Miss G- how do you spell NEED-need
bread ?"
K-N-E-A-D," replied the school-mistress,
promptly.
"Wrong-!" cried all the children, in a breath.
They evidently had heard the joke before.
The school-mistress looked astonished.
Certainly, it's wrong," insisted the first young-
ster; "that's to knead dough. It's N--E-E-D,
need! "


587








THE LETTER-BOX.


THE LETTER-BOX.


ROSE FULLERTON asks: "Do most little girls like to sew ?" We
cannot say, but we are sure that nearly all little girls like to have
things sewed, and we know, too, that there are little girls who are
not willing to impose all their sewing on other people.


M. A. E. -We cannot give you much encouragement in regard to
your contributing to ST. NICHOLAS. In the first place, we do not
need any "regular contributors." We have more articles on hand
than we can use in a long, long time, and every month we return
hundreds of excellent stories, essays, and poems, simply because we
have no room for them. If we printed all the good things that we
receive, we should have to make ST. NICHOLAS eight or ten times as
large as it is, and charge more for it than any of you would be willing
to pay for a magazine. But we are always willing to examine any-
thing good that is sent us, because it is just possible that it may be
better than anything that we have on hand. In that case we want it,
but not otherwise. While we are glad to have our little friends write
to us, and will print their letters or sketches in the Letter-Box when-
ever we can, it is useless for our friends to sendus articles for the body
of the magazine unless they are practiced writers, and feel that their
contributions are likely to be better than any of the hundreds of manu-
scripts that ST. NICHOLAS has on hand.
We do not wish to discourage any persons who are convinced that
they can write really first-class stories, sketches, or poems from send-
ing their work to us. We may accept some of their articles. But we
.do not wish to encourage any one else.


S. A. BLAKE.-Your coin is a piece of Turkish money, of small
value. It is modern. On one side is a little dot in the center of the
coin, surrounded by a Turkish inscription. The large figure under
the inscription on the other side is a fac-simile of the Sultan's signa-
ture.

As so few of our readers own gold-mines, we print the following
letter:
Central City, Colorado, May nrth, 1875.
To THE EDITOR OF ST. NICHOLAS: I thought that I would write
you a few lines to let you know that I take the ST. NICHOLAS, and I
think that it is a very good book. I am ten years old. I study in
the Second Geography, First Speller, and Ray's Practical Arithmetic;
read in the Fourth Reader, and am writing in the fourth number of
your writing-books. I own a gold-mine, and I named it the Crumple-
horn. I speak of it, for I did not know but what you would want to
buy it. I own 1,500 feet in length, 150 feet in width. I will sell it
for $500. I see a good many letters in the ST. NICHOLAS that chil-
dren write, and thought that I would like to see mine in print.-Yours
truly, FRANK G. MOODY.

ANNE P.-" Faust-Life is a very pretty little sketch, but it is too
long for us to print.

WE cannot give subscribers the residences of our contributors.

Buffalo, April 14th, 1875,
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I should like, ifI might, to make a sugges-
tion, and in fact to make two.
In the first place, could n't we have a little larger Letter-Box ? In
Our Young Folks it used to take up four or five pages, six some-
times, and I used to enjoy it so i
In the second place, should like to propose a Correspondence
column. I suppose you know what this means: any one who would
like to correspond with somebody else, sends his name, address, and
requisites for correspondence, which are published.
Wishing long life to ST. NICHOLAS, I remain, respectfully, M.

In answer to M." we would say, as we have said before, that we
do not care at present to open a Correspondence column. The bene-
fit to be derived from it is not, in our estimation, equal to its probable
disadvantages.
As for the enlargement of the Letter-Box, we too should be glad if
we had more space to devote to communications of our young friends.
The Letter-Box, at present, will not hold half of those that reach us.


HATTIE GERTRUDE.-The "Bumble-Bees' Party is full of very
pretty fancies. It would be creditable to many an older writer.


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl, eight years old. I live in
Brooklyn, near Fort Greene; and I think the happiest day in the
month is when my ST. NICHOLAS comes, with my own name on the
wrapper.
I have the darlingest little baby brother in the world, and when he
gets old enough wont I tell him rhymes and jingles I know lots of
them now.
I have made some verses about our dear little cunning baby, and
mamma said that I might send them to you, and perhaps you would
put them in the Letter-Box.
Isn't the "Eight Cousins" splendid? I thought "Nimpo's
Troubles" was lovely, but I think I shall like this even better,
I love to write dearly, but I make a great many mistakes. Mamma
says the meter is not quite right to these verses. I do not know ex-
actly what that means,,but when she gets the baby to sleep she will
explain. M. C.
MY BABY BROTHER.
I have a little brother,
He is only three months old;
He is such a little darling,
He is worth his weight in gold.
I often take him riding
In my dolly carriage red;
When he is a little older
I '1 take him on my sled.
When I ride my little brother,
He pays me with a smile;
I think that is pay enough
Should I ride him a whole mile.
He thinks his thumb the sweetest
That ever baby had,
And when it's taken from him
He is just a little bad.
He laughs all day at nothing,
With a dimple in each cheek;
I'm sure he'd say he loved me,
If he could only speak.

A CORRESPONDENT sends us the following:
I believe inquiry was made in ST. NICHOLAS for October, 1874, for
employment or amusement for a boy who is a cripple. I once knew
a boy who bought colored tissue paper, with which he made plain
kites by the half-dozen for the toy-shops, and he earned considerable
money by it. Perhaps the bird or man kite would sell even more
readily. 1 think he could learn to make willow baskets, and, sell
them at variety stores or give them to his friends. He might knit
stockings or mittens, or piece quilts for the poor. If musically in-
clined, he might learn the violin or guitar. He could learn to em-
broider with silks or worsteds, or make pen-wipers or other fancy
articles. Drawing would be very fascinating, if he had any one to
teach him, and this remark would also hold good in regard to model-
ing in clay.

To "JIcKS," and any others of our subscribers who are going to
Europe: The postage on ST. NICHOLAS, when sent to foreign coun-
tries, must be prepaid by us in stamps. To Great Britain it is four
cents on each copy; to France or Germany, twelve cents; to Austria,
Italy, or Switzerland, sixteen cents. This amount for each copy
should be sent to us in addition to the subscription price.

SADIE W. PARSONS sends the following recipe for making skeleton
leaves, in answer to Clarence Dellam's request in the May number:
Leaves to be skeletonized should be gathered only in dry weather,
should also be perfectly matured, July and August being the best
months to gather them. Among the choicest varieties are vine, pop-
lar, beech, and ivy leaves. Dissolve four ounces of washing soda m
one quart of boiling water; add two ounces of quick-lime and boil
fifteen minutes ; allow this to cool; then pour off the clear liquor into
a clean saucepan, and when at a boiling point place the leaves care-
fully and boil one hour; boiling water should be added occasionally
to supply that lost by evaporation. If after boiling one hour the cel-


58&


[JULY,









1875.] THE LETTER-BOX. 589


tular tissue does not rub off between the thumb and finger, boil them
till it will, always placing the leaves in cold water to separate the
fleshy matter from the skeleton. Bleach the skeletons by putting
them in a solution of one quart of water, a large table-spoonful of
chloride of lime, and a few drops of vinegar. Let them remain in
twenty minutes, and then remove and dry between sheets of white
blotting-paper, beneath a gentle pressure.
The following boys and girls have sent in similar directions: Henry
Carver, J. H. Drechsler, Fannie H. Kellogg, Clarence P. Dresser,
".Gussie," Theodore M. Purdy, Annette H. Aldrich, Harry Mason
Plaisted, and Minnie Fisher.
Clarence is fortunate also in receiving answers to his other question
-how to crystalize flowers. Henry Carver sends the following
recipe:
Put eighteen ounces of alum into a quart of water i1..:.. r.:.._ the
same proportions for a greater or less quantity), and 1, I .- by
simmering it gently in a close tinned vessel over a moderate fire, stir-
ring it frequently with a wooden spoon.
When the solution is completed, it must be poured into a deep
glazed jar, and as it cools the subjects intended to be crystallized
should be suspended in it, by a piece of thread or twine from a stick
laid across the mouth of the jar, where they must be suffered to re-
main for twenty-four hours. When taken out of the solution, they
are to be hung up in a shady, cool situation till perfectly dry. Care
should be taken that the solution is neither too hot nor too cold, as in
the one case the crystals will be very small, and in the other much too
large.
Among the vegetable productions, the moss-rose, bunches of hops,
ears of corn, the daisy, hyacinth, pink, furze blossoms, lichens, and
mosses are some of the most suitable subjects.
Very similar directions were received from Harry Mason Plaisted,
Dolly W. Kirk, and Gertrude Turner.

HERE is the diagram of the croquet game published in the May
number;
TIP


Al




TR


O T. \

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D'E N


ALLEN CURTIS' question in the April Letter-Box has been answered
by a large number of boys and girls, whose names will be found be-
low. Some of these, besides giving the special facts which Allen
desired, have sent in some general information about the Bible, which
may interest him and others of our readers. We therefore print the
following, from F. S. D., as being the most complete:
THE BIBLE.
The division into chapters was first made by Cardinal Hugo, about
A. D. 1240. The plan of Hugo having become known to Rabbi


Nathan in the fifteenth century, he made a Hebrew concordance to
the Old Testament, retaining the chapters, but improving the order
of the verses. The New Testament was divided into verses, and
numbered, A. D. 1545, by Robert Stephens, a learned Frenchman,
who was printer to the King of France.
It is said that three years were spent 'n the curious, but idle calcu-
lation of the following tables:
In the Old In the Nez TotaZ A o
Testament. Testament. Tota. poryIa.
Books ......... 39 .. 27 66 ..
Chapters ....... 929 .. ix 83
Verses......... 23,214 .. 7,959 3x,73 .. 6,08i
Words......... 592,493 .. 181,253 .. 773,746 .. x52,185
Letters........ 2,728,oo .. 838,380 3,566,480
In the Bible.
The middle chapter and the shortest is Psalm CXVII.
The middle verse is the 8th of Psalm CXVIII.
The word Jehovah" occurs 6,855 times.
In the Old Testament.
The middle book is Proverbs.
The middle chapter is Job XXIX.
The middle verse is in II. Chronicles, the soth chapter and the
o7th verse.
The shortest verse is the 25th verse of I. Chronicles.
The word "and occurs 35,543 times.
In the New Testament.
The middle book is the II. Epistle to Thessalonians.
The middle chapter is the 13th of Romans.
The middle verse is the 17th verse of the i7th chapter of Acts.
The shortest verse is the 35th verse of the ixth chapter of John.
The word "and occurs o0,684 times.
The 2rst verse of the 7th chapter of Ezra has in it all the letters
of the alphabet except J.
The 19th chapter of the II. Book of Kings and the 37th of Isaiah
are alike. F. S. D.
Similar communications have been received from Ruthie Bristol,
Richard Aldrich, Woods P. Johnson, Mary B. Gardner, F. E. E.,
Frank C. Brinkerhoff, Hosmer Clark, Kitten Anderson, E. W. O.,
Paul De Schweinetz, Eddie Brading, Eleanor McDermott, Charles
Baldwin, Luella M. Palmer, C. I. F., Alice L. Burdett, "Plymouth
Roek," C. W. D., James J. Ormsbee, "Little Nell," Frank D.
Emerson, Minnie Hanchette, Arthur J. Burdick, Lillie G. Lay,
Nettie W. Pierce, "Ida Ho," Lewis Akin, Francis B. James, Gussie
Stephner, Martin Andrews, Jr., Emma," E. N. Fussell, Marion
E. Gooding, M. Emmma T., J. G. G., Myrion," Carrie A. John-
son, Lizzie C., L. M. Nicholson, Harry Stancombe, W. E. Craighill.

A. L.-" How the Flower came into the World is quite a pretty
idea.

MAY R. S.-"John and Gillian is very ingenious.

THE Young Folks' Literary Club," of Maryville, Tennessee,
sends us, through its librarian, an appeal for such books and period-
icals as the young folks all over the country have read and do not want
any longer. This club is not able to buy all the books they want;
but if any of our readers have books or magazines that they would
like to send to the librarian, Mr. John T. Anderson, Box 29, Mary-
ville, Tenn., he will pay the cost of transportation. The club is very
kindly spoken of by the clergymen and leading men of Maryville.

A SUBSCRIBER.-The poem is good for a girl of twelve, but not
peculiar enough to print.

HERE is a letter to the boys and girls from a very sensible English-
man. It is a good letter to read on the Fourth of July:
You often hear people talk about the old country," and you know
as well as I do what this means. On the Fourth of July, don't you
let off fire-crackers to celebrate the breaking off by the Colonies from
the'rule of England ? and that important event, you know, occurred
less than one hundred years ago; so that if England is called the
"old" country, it is not a mistake to speak of this as "new" or
young."
Now, I think it is very likely that, as older folks do, you think with
interest of the dead men and women and boys and girls who are your
relatives of hundreds of years ago, who had the same name and were
of the same family; and you have already learned enough of history
to think of them as having their home in England, far away on the
other side of the great Atlantic Ocean.
When an English person comes to live on this side he is so very apt








THE LETTER-BOX.


to contrast the newness of what he sees with the mellow or decaying
age of much that he left behind him. Even in the earliest settled
places in New England, where the houses and churches and public
halls seem quite venerable to an American, they do not appear thus
to an Englishman, or, at the least, not to me. This will not surprise
you when I tell you that I recently worshiped in an English church
built certainly not later than during the reign of Edward the Con-
fessor, who died, as you may remember, in the year xo66 A. D. Under-
neath the noble cathedral at Ripon is a small chapel which it is
thought was built about twelve hundred years ago; and scattered up
and down in England are quaint old country towns nestling around
their stately, rock-like churches, looking not much unlike what they
were several centuries ago. I have seen many such in traveling
about, and, besides, a good many ruinous castles frowning from the
hill-tops or the banks of crystal rivers. Now, as perhaps the relatives
of some of you, hundreds of years ago, bought and sold and attended
church in one of these towns-or, it might be, went out in steel armor
to battle from the massive gate-way of one of these castles, I think I
do not mistake when I suppose it likely you will some day take an
interest in these old places, because they were built by men who are
as much ancestors of some of you as they are of UNCLE HARRY.


PLEASANT letters or little sketches, which we would be glad to
notice separately if we could, have been received from Jessie Max-
well, Willis Hubbard, Bessie Clark, Melinda Evans, Grace Gordon,
Clarence W. McElwaine, Emma G. Lund, C. N. M. Rose, SadieW.
Parsons, Julia Elliott, C. B. Dare, and Hubert Houston.


HERE is an item for the Bird-Defenders from Harfer's Bazar:
Lady Burdett-Coutts, a very rich and generous English lady, favors
a society for the prevention of cruelty to humming-birds. From per-
sonal knowledge she certifies that one Parisian milliner uses forty
thousand of these birds every season, and reasonably predicts that,
slaughtered at this rate, they will soon be extinct.
We do not suppose that our army has yet much influence in
Europe, but this paragraph should put them on their guard, for there
are a great many bonnets in this country, and a good many humming-
birds too.


SUPPLEMENT TO THE GRAND MUSTER-ROLL.

THE following list comprises only a part of the additional names sent in for the Grand Muster-Roll.
The remainder will be printed in our next issue:


Ernest Holmes, of West Liberty, Iowa, sends the following list:
Ernest Holmes, Loring Holmes, Azona Maxson, Dora Maxson,
Sadie Bowersock, Ella Hogue, Urania Ilderman, Ellen Evans, Clara
Meade, Allen Walker, Emma Walton, Tommie Rhodes, Edna
Weaver, Louie Blakeslee, Ada Shaw, Minnie Polder, Jessie Winslow,
Hattie Shaw, Olie Nichols, J. Park Nichols, Willie Wheeler, Eddie
Millard, Willie Evans, Clarence Scott, Hugh Evans, James Wheeler,
Geo. D. Evans, Lizzie Harrison, Mary Harrison, Jesse Holmes,
Emma Prouty, Ida King, Eva Windus, Bertha Harris, Linnie Purvis,
Anna Daiber, Lizzie Bailey, Jennie Richards, Nellie Sumner, Ina
Glenn, Hattie Palmer, Lilian Lewis, Ella Meade, Minnie Campbell,
Lizzie Shipman, Celta McFadden, Mary Smith, Libbie Shannon,
Lizzie Kale, Della Windus, Sara Dotson, Annie Keith, Callie Givans,
Louie Henderson, Gertie Alger, Ida Givans, Jessie Alger, Anna
Patterson, Lilian Prather, Levi Pond, Ernest Null, Geo. Fulton,
James Deemer, Howard Walton, Charlie Dewey, Jos. Clapper,
Harold Childs, Fred Evans, Delos Morris, Hattie Staples, Cullen
Staples, and Lucy Walton.
Daisy B. Haynes, of Fulton, sends these names: Daisy B. Haynes,
John Paul Haynes, Carrie Anderson, Georgie Ney, Freddie Spencer,
Anna Perkins, Nellie Jennings, Ida Charton, Nellie Royce, Mollie
Royce, Louisa Coseo, Chara Whitaker, Jennie Lusk, Willie Royce,
Nettie Montague, Luella Wilcox, Sara Darrow, Rollo Mosher, Libbie
Lee, Uly Palmer, Belle Brandor, Anna Holden, Katy Doyle. Lannie
Loomis, George Perkins, Eddie McTully, Sara Perry, Leila Ruth
Haynes, Carrie Seymour, Bertha Ney, Johnie McIntyer, Kittie
Skinner, Emma Jennings, Willie Schenck, Gracie Hagemeister,
Lottie Royce, Ida Stanton, Carrie Coseo, Hattie Whitaker, Gertie
Dada, Maggie Hagemeister, Freddie Wilcox, Millie Horton, Cora
Bradshaw, Frankie Bisnett, Allie Waterman, Edith McCordy, Ella
Poole, Jamie Taylor, Freddie Sweet, Robbie McTully, Hattie Perry,
Ettie Bisnett, and Libbie Merten.
Miss Kinnie Smith, of Parkersburg; Virginia, sends a long list:
Diddie Clark, Ella Crichton, Minnie Cain, Annie Griffin, Eliza
McWane, Isabel Bryan, Jennie Saunders, Rena Wallace, Nannie
Parrich, Nellie Covert, Lizzie Farrow, Jessie Gilbert, America Pil-
cher, Levera Stuart, Ina J. Posten, Laura Englehart, Rosa Caswell,
Anna B. Finnel, Rosa Prince, Eloise Sutton, Annie Layman, Nan-
nie Gould, Ella Broadt, Tiny Posten, Matty Phelps, Albert Warner,
Edward Theis, Fritz Graff, Thos. Vaughan, Lincoln Gilmer, Thos.
Gallagher, Wm. Beuhler, Okey Cole, Albert Hainish, Chas. Sharp,
Harry Haddox, Jno. Hughes, Allan McPhail, Ed. Johnson, Jno.
Williams, Chas. Warne, Guy Gould, Sam'i Miller, Tom Cain, Robt.
Kyhi, Floyd Turner, Chas. Bush, Eddie Sorrel, Chas Marlow, and
Albert Woodruff.
R. Thomas Savin, of New York City, sends this list: E. Delateld
Smith, Jr., George H. Moore, William M. Savin, Robt. McLaren,
Theodore M. Purdy, James H. Salmon, E. A. Bibby, H. J. Davison,
James W. Underhill, Charles H. Alliger, E. J. Claghory, G. L.
Courtenay, G. G. Brinkerhoff, Jr., Willie Livermore, Wm. Nichols,


R. H. Brinckerhoff, G. S. Bartlett, Randolph W. Townsend, Jr.,
H. W. Norton, M. M. Gilliss, A. D. Dederick, Andy Bibby, G. H.
Nolen, Peyton A. Savin, Louise Moore, Daisy Purdy, Chas. Watts,
Lizzie Brice, Harry Dodger, Mabel Salter, Anna Moore, Carrie
Savin, Florence B. Day, Wm. M. Peters, Mary Peters, Jamsie Brice,
Bertha Peters, Frank Tichenor, Georgie Peters, Alfie Peters, Frankie
Alliger, Belle Dodge, Minnie Bush, Annie Dodger, and E. Hibbard.
Besides these lists, the following names have been received: Samuel
McCormick, Charley Warren, William McAllister, Lewis Rother-
mell, James Beck, Florie Beck, Carl Beck, James Dubosq, William
Perrine, Ed. Perrine, Harry Godshall, Clement Devine, Am. McCor-
mick, Richard Hance, John Rutherford McAllister, Lewis Kirk,
Julius McClure, Albert Thissel, Helen Beck, Alice Lincoln, May
Lincoln, Eleanor Gayley, Maggie Gayley, Jennie P. Gayley, Tillie
De Armond, Beckie Nagles, Agnes Long, Minnie Long, Albert Ed-
ward Sumner, Fred Burton French, Ada Mabel French, Charles
Osborne Sumner, Lulie Taylor, Sadie Taylor, Bertha Taylor, Edith
Taylor, Maggie Smith, Katie Smith, Jessie Smith, Helen A. Smith,
Bennie F. Hussey, Mary E. Hussey, Clara G. E. Hussey, Robert
Cary Hussey, Hattie Woodruff, Ella Woodruff, Edith Woodruff,
Agnes Woodruff, Mary Boardman, Nellie Spencer, Arthur Eldredge,
Paul Spencer, Jessie Griswold, Clara Griswold, Belle Collins, Gracie
Collins, Mary Hamus, Fannie Lashbrook, Jenny Longsworth, Mary
Denison, Alice P. Dennison, Adelaide Phillips, Alexis I. du P. Cole-
man, Chas. B. Phillips, Jr., Lizzie R. Harris, Susie T. Harris, Sallie
M. Grice, T. C. Matlack, Mrs. S. A. Harris, A. W. Harris, Annie
Grice, William W. Lindsay, James R. Harris, Jr., Willie Folsom,
Bertie Folsom, Kitty Evans Folsom, Anna H. Scofield, Sallie C. Sco-
field, Lewis Neill Scofield, Ralph Rutherford, Lewis Rutherford,
Bessie Rutherford, Arthur Brady, Bessie Brady, Winnie Brady,
Hannah Maria Cooke, Clemence Amelia Cooke, Benjamin Stephens
Cooke, Allie Hall, Willie Burnett, Helen R., Willie G. James, Rob-
bie James, Katie Canon, George B. James, Lida B. Graves, Joseph
H. Graves, Logan Hay, Kate L. Hay, Nellie A. Fitch, Lucy A.
Fitch, Christie McDermott, Eleanor McDermott, Marian Colt, Bertha
Colt, John Stebbins, Anna Stebbins, Florence H. Buffum, C. B.
Dare, Eddie Wing, Mellie Brandon, Roy Clarkson, Helen Worrell
Clarkson, Alice C. Dillingham, Willie H. Osgood, Minnie M. Case,

Harry C. Powers, Julia Snell, Lizzie Hicks, Lizzie K. Shelby, Fan-
nie T. Shelby, Thornburgh Chapman, Laura Graham Reed, Harry
Sawyer, Harry M. Sperry, Mary A. Luther, Zelle Minor, Mary
Anderson Lomax, Lulu Hinman, Rose Fullerton, Ward C. Elliott,
F. A. Taber, Fannie Hubbard, Charles A. Miller, Willie P. McCoy,
Effie Van Volkenberg, Winnie Burt, Robert Irving, Mary Belle
Smith, Clara D. Henkle, Seth P. Remington, Claude L. Wheeler,
M. Fitch, Harry O. Fullen, Gaylord Woodhull, Victor Grant Beebe,
Arthur S. Hodges, Bessie L. Cary, Sarah Y. Raymond, Elsie Tilden,
Emogene Hulburd, Willis Hulburd, F. Vieland, M. Nicolovius,
Arthur P. Hodges, Willie Grover, Eddie Grover, M. Jones, E. Miller,
M. Warren, M. Hon, H. Hon, E. Schofield, and Helen Cook.


JULY,







THE RIDDLE-BOX.



THE RIDDLE-BOX.


REBUS, No. 1.







-I ", .. -. '.
by' -- 7 - ,,,,,-
.. R.- E t.





















j SL _E__ 0..


JENIGM[A. SQUA RE-WORD.


I AM composed of forty-seven letters. My 35, II,
34, 16, 45, 9 is the name of a flower. My 4, 1o, 8,
43, 3, 25, 6, 33, 46, 41, 43 is the name of a State. My
42, 15, 44, 12, 5, 24 is a precious stone. My 29, 28, 43,
22, 27, II, 39 is one of the operas. My 47, 31, 26 is an
animal. My 47, 31, I, 4, 25, 47, 8, 7, 38 is another of
the United States. My 20, 9, 23, 33, 47, 19 is the name
of a well-known novel. My 14, 19, 13, 32 are domestic
animals. My 21, 11, 16, 27, 28, 37 is a poet. My 17,
36, 30, 18 are welcome to every man in a profession.
My 2, 40, 12, 42, 23, 44 is something hard to bear My
whole is a very familiar quotation. M. and G.
CHARADE.
MY first is made of corn that's ground;
My second in every house is found;
My whole just peeps above the ground,
And wears a little cap that's round. D. H. E.
DOUBLE ACROSTIC.
THE initials and finals form the whole name of a
noblewoman and distinguished singer. I. To pitch tents
for rest or siege. 2. The name of a daughter of Charles
II. of Sweden. 3. A Shropshire peasant who attained
remarkable age. 4. An English general in American
Revolutionary times. 5. To take one's reward. 6. A
noted chief of the Seminole Indians. 7. He who is
thought by some to hold the keys of Heaven. 8. Two-
thirds of a personal pronoun. 9. A Russian czar. 10.
The Latin name of one of the grand divisions of the
earth. A. O'N.


MY first is oft a fop's delight,
And let us all my next the right;
My third supplied each royal steed,
In olden time, with grain for feed;
Bought at my fourth it might have been,
While still my fifth around is seen;
My sixth a dangerous foe may be
To every bark that tempts the sea. RUTH.

TRANSPOSITIONS.
I. I WILL go for the but will drop the if I
hear that that has from its nest sing like a
- 2. We found the among the mass of -
3. what is the difference between a and a
-- ? 4. Did our ancestors -- with Divine
attributes ? 5. I will give you a of almonds, if you
find the word in the language. J. P. B.


BEHEADED RHYMES.
ON muster-day the boys were -
Each nerve to show a splendid -
When suddenly the cry, "'T is --,"
Proclaims ill-luck begun;
From fine cockades the beauty --
Adown their uniform is -
The streams that spoil their fun;
Crestfallen, homeward they are
When low a bright bow over -
Tells that the rain is done.







THE RIDDLE-BOX.


REBUS, No. 2.


omO

__ LI


ELLIPSES. ETAGRAM.


FILL the blanks with the same words transposed.
I. This table is a purchase. 2. The captain
tried to his company from the -- 3. The -
was accused of 4. Though with he the
conflict. 5. In the gossip is apt to the facts;
6. And upon the A. s.


HIDDEN CAPES..

I. I CANNOT perform this example. 2. Will you come
to-morrow, Sarah, or now? 3. Have you a new bon-
net? 4. I never deceived any one. 5. The article
Arthur intended to purchase was sold. M. G. B.


'I:I


ii ,




[Alnll FESTU"


WHOLE, I am a city. Change my head, and I am a
plant; again, and I am seen in some houses. Cut off
my head, and I am seen in some part of the year.
S. D.
DIAVIOND PUZZLE.
I. A CONSONANT. 2. A boy's name. 3. To gain in-
struction. 3. To lack moisture. 5. A consonant.
J. C. M.
HALF WORD-SQUARE.
I. A FLOWER. 2. A foreigner. 3. A slender cord
4. To behold. 5. An article. 6. One thousand.
ITALIAN BOY.


ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN JUNE NUMBER


RIDDLE.-Bark.
TRANSMUTATIONS.-I. Excommunicated. 2. Ensign. 3. Decan-
ter. 4. Isolate. 5. Erased. 6. Degenerated. 7. Eyeballs. 8. Ceded.
9. Exasperates. o1. Detract Is. Absentee.
HIDDEN SQUARE.- GA Y
AYE
YE S
ENIGMA.-Kindergarten.
CHARADE.-Mississippi.
REBUS, No. I.-
Three winters, that my soul might grow to thee,
I lived up there on yonder mountain-side,
My right leg chained into the crag, I lay
Pent in a roofless close of jagged stones."
HALF WORD-SQUARE.- F I S C A L
IDIOM
S I S T
SSTT
COT
AM
L
DOUBLE ACROSTic.-Jean Ingelow, George Eliot.
J -i- G
E -glantin- E
A -Iced- O
N -upha- R
I -ceber- G
N-ightshad--E
G -eorg- E
E -e- L
L -ev- I
C -ntari- 0
W -alnu- T


A CHESS TRAGEDY.-Black Knight, Castle, White Queen, (K)night,
Black Rooks, Upon (a pawn), Sett, Aching (a king), Problem, King,
Castle, Queen, Discover, Check, Guarded, Drawn, Queen, Bored
(board), Double Check, Squares, Move, Bishop, Knight, King,
Pawn, Black Men, Knight, Queens, Queen, Smothered Mate.
DIAMOND PUZZLE.- E
ALE
ARENA
ELEMENT
ENEMY
ANY
T
CROSS-WORD ENIGMA.-" Little Women."
REBUS, No. 2.-" A cup of gold, all rich and rough, with stories
of the gods."
DIAMOND PUZZLE.- C
LEA
LANCE
CENSURE
ACUTE
ERE
E
ANAGRAMS.-I. Presbyterian. 2. Orchestra. 3. Parishioners. 4.
Matrimony. 5. One word. 6. Ancestor. 7. Midshipman. 8. Law-
yers. 9. Sweetheart. to. Parliament. r. Melodrama. Ix. Prince
of Wales. 13. Sir Robert Peel. 14. Revolution. x5. Masquerade.
x6. Frontispiece. 17. Performance.
TRIPLE CONUNDRUM.-Fred-stole, (K)nave, Altar (alter).
SQUARE REMAINDERS.-C-L E A R
L-E AS E
M-A S K S
C-R EST


ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE MAY NUMBER were received, previous to May 18, from Arnold Guyot Cameron, Gertrude Turner, Belle
Sargent, Helen Jackson, Dugald C. Jackson, Eddie H. Eckel, Leila Burton, Lou and Flo," George H. Fuller, Charles R. Baldwin, Julia
A. Dobler, Frank H. Belknap, Fred M. Taylor, Ida E. Decker, Libbie R. Churchyard, Willie E. Frost, Willie L. Young, Randolph B.
Seymour, Clara L. Northway,rththur Clowles, Charles Balestier, Alma Sterling, Louise Ensign, George L. Benton, Johnny Flagg, Charles
G. Rupert, F. W. Bowler, Fred Worthington, Frank Bowman, Richard S. Murphy, Harry D. Peet, Sarah Y. Raymond, E. Alexander
Frink, Meta Gage, Lida B. Graves, Madelaine Palmer, Zelle Minor, Birdie Luce, J. B. Burwell, H. N. Adair, "Golden Eagle," Carrie E.
Wickes, Heyward M. Gibbes, E. E. S., P. Dumbasten, I. Dumbasten, Clelia D. Mosher, Anna L. Gibbin, Alice B. Mersereau, George M.
Trowbridge, Charles H. Delanoy, William C. Delanoy Leon Haskell, R. Van Voorhis, Jr., Edward Van Voorhis, Ida L. Rayner, Dolly A.
Kirk, Fanme Smith and Ernest Winne, Nellie S. Colby, Mark W. C., Bertha E. Saltmarsh, Leila Delano, Cora M. Wesley, Bel M. Evans,
A. T. Stoutenburgh, Gillie Frost, and Jennie Agnes Carr.


U[JL.