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 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 The squirrel's stratagem
 Three times one
 Dressed in white
 The "Miss Muffett" series
 Eight cousins
 Tony's first stilts
 Some queer dishes
 Sewing
 Mrs. Pope and the bear
 A London child's holiday
 The cyclops
 About two little boys
 Bocko and the deer
 As we go along
 Fairy umbrellas
 The young surveyor
 "El gooffah"
 Echoes - An Indian story
 That bird
 I wonder why
 A short-lived family
 Jack-in-the-pulpit
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover
 Spine


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UF00065513_00025
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5/4/2007 1:50:10 PM -


St. Nicholas, vol. 2, no. 11
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Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00025
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas, vol. 2, no. 11
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: UF00065513:00025

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Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Frontispiece
        Plate
    The squirrel's stratagem
        Page 657
        Page 658
    Three times one
        Page 659
    Dressed in white
        Page 660
        Page 661
        Page 662
        Page 663
    The "Miss Muffett" series
        Page 664
    Eight cousins
        Page 665
        Page 666
        Page 667
        Page 668
        Page 669
        Page 670
        Page 671
        Page 672
        Page 673
        Page 674
        Page 675
    Tony's first stilts
        Page 676
    Some queer dishes
        Page 677
        Page 678
    Sewing
        Page 679
    Mrs. Pope and the bear
        Page 680
        Page 681
    A London child's holiday
        Page 682
        Page 683
        Page 684
        Page 685
    The cyclops
        Page 686
        Page 687
    About two little boys
        Page 688
    Bocko and the deer
        Page 689
        Page 690
    As we go along
        Page 691
        Page 692
        Page 693
    Fairy umbrellas
        Page 694
    The young surveyor
        Page 695
        Page 696
        Page 697
        Page 698
        Page 699
        Page 700
        Page 701
        Page 702
    "El gooffah"
        Page 703
        Page 704
    Echoes - An Indian story
        Page 705
        Page 706
        Page 707
    That bird
        Page 708
        Page 709
        Page 710
    I wonder why
        Page 711
    A short-lived family
        Page 712
        Page 713
    Jack-in-the-pulpit
        Page 714
        Page 715
    The letter-box
        Page 716
        Page 717
    The riddle-box
        Page 718
        Page 719
        Page 720
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text





































'I


BOCKO AND THE' DEER.
ISce page 689.1


I _7 7


~;".-~.--'n
-.
-~-~-
















ST. NICHOLAS.




SEPTEMBER, 1875.


THE SQUIRREL'S STRATAGEM.

BY EMMA BURT.


THERE was trouble in the woods-a great chat-
tering and commotion. Squirrel came round a
stump, with both cheeks full of corn, to see what
was the matter.
It is all very well to have company," said little
Brown-bird,--" very well; but when it comes to
having folks go to sleep, and keep birds away from
their nests, so that all the eggs get cold, I for one
don't like it "
Everybody was surprised, for everybody thought
little Brown-bird amiable, and not easily put out.
Indeed, I would n't stand it! It's a stinging
shame buzzed Bumble-bee.
Queer doings I should say! chirped Cricket.
What, may I ask, is this creature ?" trilled the
Tree-toad.
Why," said Robin, who had been out in the
world, and knew, it is a very small child "
Said Humming-bird: It looks like a sweet-pea
blossom; and its hair is like the silk of maize!"
"And its mouth is like a-berry. I-will go and
kiss it! said wicked Mosquito to himself.
dear what an ado you all make sighed
red Lady-bug; and the little flowers nodded sig-
nificantly, and all the forest leaves looked as if they
were laughing.
Yet the little baby lay in the shadow of the
bushes, with closed lids, and dreamed as happy,
and unconcerned as if all the- woods were its own.
Squirrel was sorry: He said: "Little Brown-
bird, don't fret and flutter so. It's easy enough
to manage. You leave it all to me. I know the
tricks of these folks-'specially boys and he put
VOL. II--43.


up his two small hands and looked around upon
his neighbors in an assured manner most comfort-
ing to behold. "Never you fear, little Brown-
bird i I will go and bring some one here who will
carry away this creature that disturbs you "
The Squirrel flashed out of sight, and ran swiftly
along over brush and bushes, and logs and ferns,
until it reached the highway, when it sped along
the fence, only pausing now and then to take an
observation. In two minutes who should come
along but three school-children-Roy and Rob,
and their sister Lou.
Look look look! cried Rob.
"Where? what?" shouted Roy.
"A squirrel! a squirrel! a squirrel! they all
shouted together; and away went Rob, and after
him Roy, and following both ran Lou, over the
brush and over the bushes, and over the logs and
ferns.
"Catch him catch him they cried; and the
echoes mocked, "Catch him!-catch him! catch
him "
And they chased little Squirrel until: they came
to a dead halt by a: rail fence, and there on the
ground lay a little dreaming baby
"Oh ho ho !" laughed Roy.
Whew-w !" whistled Rob.
0, the dear little thing !" cried Lou, with up-
lifted hands.
Now the children set themselves to wondering
what it all meant.
Perhaps," said Lou, "-the squirrel was a fairy,
and turned into a little baby when we 'most caught


VOL. II.


No. 11.







THE SQUIRREL'S STRATAGEM.


it! 0, let's take it home and keep it, and may be
it will turn into a little lady as big as your finger,
with eyes just like pin-heads-and a silver dress
and a spider-web vail-and she will live with us
always, and always and forever "
Pshaw? said Roy. Don't you know gypsies
do it sometimes-steal babies ? Put 'em in a cov-
ered cart and carry 'em off, and leave 'em by the
wayside? "
Yes, and I've read, too, how an eagle once
picked up a baby in its beak and claws, and carried
it off to its nest on a crag "
"Perhaps it ran away," said Rob; a baby did
once, years and years ago, grandma said. The


wolves and bears was O jimmy was n't they
all glad! And Riar, she had to go to bed with-
out her supper. I tell you, she was glad, for she
could n't 'a' eat anything, anyway, 'cause there was
a big lump in her throat."
0, boys, I know said Lou; and she clasped
her hands, and her eyes grew big and round with
wonder. It-is-a-orfi/ing /"
I guess it aint an orphan said a positive
voice behind them. I'll let you know that's my
baby, an' a dear one she is too,-aint you, little
Pinkie-winkie? And an excited little woman
caught the child up in her arms.
Then she began to see that there were only three


"THERE ON THE GROUND LAY A LITTLE DREAMING BABY."


mother went out a-visiting and left all the children
to keep house; and she said to Riar (she was old-
est), Riar, you take care of the baby.' An' when
the mother was gone, they had fun, I tell you !
They dim' on the housetop to see the chimbly-
swallows, and they blowed bubbles, and played
'pom-pom-pull-away' until the sun went down.
Then they all went to see Joseph set the hen down
in the fence corner where she stole her nest.
Then, do you know, Riar thought of what her
mother said, and she never once thought before.
0, was n't she scart ? And she began to count the
children, an' found the baby was gone Then the
mother came home, and she hunted, and Riar
hunted, and everybody hunted; and, after awhile,
do you know, the father found that baby 'way out
in the woods by a holler log, an' the skeeters had
bit it as big as two babies-'way out where the


rather frightened children, who meant no harm;
and she grew very pleasant, and half apologized.
"You see, I put on the kettle to boil for tea,
and said I to myself, I '11 go out and pick a dish
of berries for sass.' So I brought Pinkie-winkie,
and left her here a-sleeping. Do you see what a
nice dish of berries I have ? "
Nay, furthermore, the little woman, out of the
goodness of her heart, said: "Now you shall all
come down to my little red house, and take tea
with me and my man. An' you can carry Pinkie-
winkie; and don't look so sorry, little girl. You
can see the ducks and pigeons and posies, and
have cream on your berries. Come on!" and
away she went, with the train of children behind
her.
After they had got safely away, such a chatter-
ing and commotion as there was in the woods!


658


[SEPTEMBER,








THE IESOE 5


Brown-bird, swinging upon a twig, said:
"Squirrel, I consider you both polite and kind;
I wish there were more like you in the world "
Don't mention it! said Squirrel, quite em-
barrassed, and he ran away.
Little Brown-bird flew fluttering to her nest,


and bugs and bees and idle birds set to gossiping.
The little flowers nodded their dainty heads, and
all the forest leaves were so amused they shook
their sides with laughing,-while the sunlight
gleamed benignly down, and said, My children,
I am glad you are all again happy."


THREE TIMES ONE.

BY RACHEL POMEROY.

KEEP your baby fashions,
Little maid;
Growing-up will spoil you,
I'm afraid;
When the bonny girlies grow,
Half their prettinesses go-
People say.
Who can look at such as you
Without a pang or two?
Well-a-day !

If I could, I'd keep you,
Tiny chit,
As you are this minute,
Every bit.
Not another inch of height;
Are n't we tall enough now, quite-
Two-feet-two ?
Why, I'd give my Sunday bonnet,
And the purple posies on it,
To be you !

Could the budlet only
Hold the flower,
Could you spare your dimples
Half-an-hour,
I might recollect, you see,
How things looked when I was three.
Very well,
You know what there is to say,
You '11 be big as I some day-
Wont you tell?

Ah did I but manage
Matters here,
Pinafores should fit you
Many a year;
For I dread lest when you're old,
You 'll have lost your heart of gold
On the way;


659


THREE T1MES ONE.







DRESSED IN WHITE.


That were sadder (don't forget)
Than to live to see my pet
Getting gray.

Goldilocks may some day
Miss their crinkle;
Forehead learn the feeling
Of a wrinkle.
Never mind, so naught be stole
From the sunny-tempered soul
Worth a sigh.
Thievish fate will have to pay
All he ever took away
By and by.


Stop you, then, I'd dare not,
If I might,
Though the risks stand heavy,
Black-or white;
Game of hazard, every whit;
Luck and unluck, toss for it,
Yes or No ;-
Take your chances with the rest;
Nature's methods must be best,
As things go.







DRESSED IN WHITE

By JULIA P. BALLARD.


THERE was to be a party. Every guest was to
be dressed in white. I do not think there was to
be much "fuss." It was to be all "feathers."
The invitations were peculiar. They were not
confined to one class, nor (thanks to the host for
having borrowed Aladdin's lamp) one country.
Nor were they limited to one language, nor to one
style of dress. The only restriction was that all
should be dressed in white; and, of course, as it
was to be all feathers, I may as well say at once it
was a party of birds. I did not attend the party,
because no human being was allowed to be present
as a guest, even though robed in muslin or silk of
snowy whiteness.
But I did know the host and a number of the
guests, so that I can judge of the company very
fairly, and tell you all about it.
I almost doubt, if the host had not been the one
who gave the party, whether he would have re-
ceived an invitation; though it would have been a
direct slight if he had not, for every feather he


wore was pure white. Then why do I doubt it?
Because it was a mooted question how he became
a white bird. All I know about it is, he was white
as the driven snow. He was a white robin. His
parents and brothers and sisters were all brown-
backed and red-breasted, as we naturally look for
robins to be. But the robin who gave this party
found himself in the world, one fair morning, in a
common robin's nest, up in a gnarled old apple-
tree, with clear pink eyes with which to look out
upon all the wonderful things about him, and
feathers soft and white as snow.
The home of the white robin was in a beautiful
orchard in a beautiful island of Lake Champlain.
It was near the margin of the lake, too, so that the
shelving rocks and cliffs that shut off the waves
made the wall to one side of the orchard; and
some of the great rocky shelving rooms facing the
apple-trees were selected for the parlors, chambers
and dining-halls of the expected guests.
The first bird that arrived may possibly have.


660


[SEPTEMBER,








DRESSED IN WHITE. 66i


come by his dress in as mysterious a way as the
host himself. He was a white peacock. Such
birds are extremely rare, but they have been
known. I saw this one afterward, long after the
affair was over, and there was not a colored feather
upon him. He could spread his tail as handsomely
as his gorgeous namesakes ever do, but you had to
look closely to see the eyes in the ends of the
feathers, for they were only defined by a little
superior whiteness. He was very quiet at the
party, said little about his country or ancestors,
and, fully content with walking around with








-I


This entertainment was a sort of picnic party,
for the robin had hinted, that being on an island
with rather limited resources, except for those who
relished fish, and being somewhat ignorant, be-
sides, of the peculiar tastes of many of his guests,
-if any chose, they could bring along some favorite
viand, and violate no rule of etiquette in so doing.
This was probably one reason why the white pel-
ican was a little late, having stopped to fill the bag
he always carried with him with the fish of his
own locality, which were choicer to him than any
other, particularly those of fresH water.


i-----~-A '
to c ,- N
' -


THE Y1ARJ"iUAN$.


princely dignity, as if sure his mere presence
graced the unique assembly, departed as silently,
at the close of the entertainment, as the humblest
bird present. He was the first guest. I cannot
pretend to give the order of their arrival much
further; but the next to present himself in the
robin's reception-room was the snowy owl. A
friend of mine saw this owl one morning as far
West as the oak openings of Michigan. He was
then, doubtless, getting ready for this party. He
was winking his great yellow eyes very fast, and
puffing up his throat-ruffle and shaking his plu-
mage generally, preparatory to his long journey.
When he arrived, the robin welcomed him with
great courtesy.


Some of the birds had great reason to be glad
that this party was given in the Winter. The
white ptarmigan was one of these, for, although he
could now walk with the whitest, he took care not
to hint what he knew very well, that in Summer,
at his home in the old Grampian Hills, he was
mottled with black, gray, and yellow. His cousin,
the rock-ptarmigan, kept a similar secret in his
own breast, though his white coat in Summer was
only marred by dashes of occasional yellow.
The reception-room pleased these birds very
much, for it reminded them of their own rocky
homes far over the sea, where they live among
the bowlders, in pairs, all by themselves, and are
as cunning in hiding their homes from intru-


2:Sh


661


DRESSED IN WHITE.








662 DRESSED IN WHITE. [SEPTEMBER,


ders as the sly, hypocritical partridge was ever
known to be. They were just talking about this
very thing, and telling each other of attempted
escapes from bird-hunters which had fortunately
proved successful, or they could never have been at
the white-bird party. One told how he had left his
nest upon hearing a hunter's step, and, running in
front of him to the edge of the steep rock, made
believe he dropped off below; and while the hunter
was peering down upon a lower ledge of rocks, he
was wheeling with a noiseless flight to the opposite
side of the cliff, and so around silently back to his
nest, hidden itself under the great loose stones.
Near by, stood a white ptarmigan from the Rocky
Mountains, with his short neck and feather-muffled
legs, and his keen eye bent on his neighbor across
the sea, as if he well understood the whole story.


THE TWO LITTLE HORNBILLS.
It was a beautiful sight at last, when the rooms
were full, to see the dignity of some, the fluttering,
nervous anxiety of others, and more curious to
hear the chattering and clattering in languages
worse than Greek or German to any but the in-
itiated. The white curlew went off with a snowy
ibis, and together welcomed a brother of the cur-
lew just arrived from Spain.
A guinea-hen stole up and kept near the robin
and the peacock, as if he was half afraid it was an
accident that. his feathers were all white; and I
really suppose it was, though how he should know
it, was a very curious thing.
There were only two children in the party.
These were a pair of twins, offspring of an African
hornbill, who were obliged to come at this tender
age because when they were fully fledged they
were no longer white. The little creatures found it
pretty cold, having just arrived from a warm coun-


try, and from their nest in a warm hole in a tree,
where they had been plastered up with their mother
in the manner shown in ST. NICHOLAS for last
January. If it had not been for Aladdin's lamp
they could not have come at all.
A large white owl from Montreal was there, and
he, too, had reason to be glad it was a Winter
party, for he happened to turn his great yellow
eyes in the direction of a mirror, and the sight of
his bill nearly hidden by white plumes, and his
snowy head and neck, reminded him of Summer
days, when, standing near his nest upon the ground
near some crystal stream, he had caught in that
mirror a glimpse of dark bands over the snowy
white. But he soon forgot all this in forming the
acquaintance of a snowy heron, who erected his
full crest and led him up to some newly arrived
relatives of his from the South-the "great heron,"
with slender bill, and long plumes upon his back
and a dozen broad, stiff feathers in his tail, but
without a crest, for which he little cared, so elegant
were the long pendant plumes falling from his
back; and his cousin, the great white heron," so
large and tall, with his stout yellow bill opening to
chatter out a welcome, and his yellow eye dilating
and growing brighter in his joy to meet his new
friends.
Near by the herons came a group of swans;
the American swan gracefully managing to move
about out of his favorite element by hiding his
black flat feet in the crowd, and elevating his
beautiful forehead, with its crescent fall of feathers,
as he swept up to a trumpeter-swan, whose fore-
head adornments not being quite as marked as his
own, relieved him from the necessity of envy on
account of his superior voice. He knew that he
was nicknamed the "whistling" swan, and took
good care, by silence, not to remind his clarion
cousin of the fact, in case he had never heard it
mentioned. In fact, instead of commenting upon
each other, both seemed absorbed in watching the
snow-goose near them, who was quite unmindful
that her presence there was a rare chance, due to
her having escaped the tint of silvery bluish-gray
usually worn by her nearest relatives; and who
was proving how unmindful she was of it, by the

zest with which she was relating a pleasing fact that
had just occurred, to a beautiful ivory gull from
Labrador, and a short-legged white gull from
Greenland, who were standing near.
The ivory gull, with her vermilion-edged eyes
fixed upon the snowy goose, seemed to have an
expression of sadness as she listened to the story,
and the Greenland gull, too, tapped her orange-
tipped yellow bill against a projecting rock, as if
impatient for the goose to get through.
It seems the snowy goose had been for some


662


DRESSED IN WHITE.


[SEPTEMBER,







DRESSED IN WHITE.


time standing near the robin and, eying each new-
comer, had witnessed one or two painful scenes
that those within the rooms might never have
known but for her nimble tongue. She had seen-
(would the gulls believe it?)-several elegant birds
arrive, who had not been permitted, after a weary


-. .-- -->-_ -
;- ;fe
^ --^- ^^ *


there were some superb silvery gulls that could not
come in because their back and wings were blue;
and a laughing gull was made to cry because he
had a rosy-tinted breast.
The white gulls walked away as if they had not
heard the story, and all went on again merry as a


-- -_=-



-- *.
* ; --' .'-tt

-~ I

-. I

if \-.


I -
7)IJ




Il I


THE GREAT WHITE HERON.


journey, to enter the castle. There were several
elegant terns. One was a royal tern, "clear
from the Atlantic coast," and nearly all a pure
pearl white; only a little bluish-gray color on her
back and wings; and a beautiful white-winged
shrike had to go back, because of the same fatal
bluish gray, also some snow-birds, who, unfortu-
nately, had too much black upon their little bodies;
but it did seem worst of all to part relations ; and


marriage bell." Just here the robin appeared, and
nodding to the snowy goose beckoned her to follow,
which she did, and in her train, as if by right, the
ivory gulls, and all the other gulls, came on, and so
by right it proved when they were shown through
a secret door to a large rocky room before unseen,
whose silvery floor, as soon as tried, gave way, and
lo! a lake, where all the gulls, and swans, and
geese, and water-loving birds could show their


663


71'~"


-;~-~-------,---i
---------
------- ~?~--- ~--
--







DRESSED IN WHITE.


native grace, and rock, and dip, and curve, and
swim with mirrored beauty in the crystal water.
The ocean phaeton was already there, and Japan
storks, and long, ebony-legged flamingoes, with
some snowy white ganners as spectators of their
practiced skill.
And in and out, from room to room, among


them all, went White Robin, the basy host, making
each one glad he came, and having the satisfaction,
after his royal entertainment had been thoroughly
honored, of receiving a unanimous vote of thanks,
and a hearty declaration that there never was and
never could be a more perfect success than the
White Bird Party.


THE "MISS


MUFFETT"

(No. III.)


SERIES.


--<, .,


N -
~~;V /~I1




V


LITTLE Julia Ap-Jones stood on the cold stones,
Nibbling a morsel of cheese,
When a little Welsh rabbit,
Running by, tried to grab it,
Quite forgetting to say, "If you please."


[SEPTEMBER,








1875.] EIGHT COUSINS.


EIGHT COUSINS

BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT.


CHAPTER XIX.
BROTHER BONES.
ROSE accepted her uncle's offer, as Aunt Myra
discovered two or three days later. Coming in for
an early call, and hearing voices in the study, she
opened the door, gave a cry and shut it quickly,
looking a good deal startled. The Doctor appeared
in a moment, and begged to know what the matter
was.
How can you ask when that long box looks so
like a coffin I thought it was one, and that dreadful
thing stared me in the face as I opened the door,"
answered Mrs. Myra pointing to the skeleton that
hung from the chandelier cheerfully grinning at all
beholders..
"This is a medical college where women are
freely admitted, so walk in, madam, and join the
class if you'll do me the honor," said the Doctor,
waving her forward with his politest bow.
Do, auntie; it's perfectly splendid," cried
Rose's voice, and Rose's blooming face was seen
behind the ribs of the skeleton, smiling and nod-
ding in the gayest possible manner.
What are you doing, child?" demanded Aunt
Myra, dropping into a chair and staring about her.
Oh, I'm learning bones to day and I like it so
much. There are twelve ribs you know, and the
two lower ones are called floating ribs because they
are not fastened to the breast bone. That's why
they go in so easily if you lace tight and squeeze the
lungs and heart in the-let me see, what was that
big word-oh, I know-thoracic cavity," and Rose
beamed with pride as she aired her little bit of
knowledge. .
Do you think that is a good sort of thing for
her to be poking over? She is a nervous child,
and I'm afraid it will be bad for her," said Aunt
Myra, watching Rose as she counted vertebrae,
and waggled a hip joint in its socket with an in-
quiring expression.
"An excellent study, for she enjoys it, and I
mean to teach her how to manage her nerves so
that they wont be a curse to her, as many a
woman's become through ignorance or want of
thought. To make a mystery or a terror of these
things is a mistake, and I mean Rose shall under-
stand and respect her body so well that she wont
dare to trifle with it as most women do."
"And she really likes it? "
Very much, auntie It's all so wonderful, and


so nicely planned you can hardly believe what you
see. Just think, there are 600,000,000 air cells in
one pair of lungs, and 2,000 pores to a square inch
of surface; so you see what quantities of air we
must have, and what care we should take of our
skin so all the little doors will open and shut right.
And brains, auntie, you've no idea how curious
they are; I have n't got to them yet, but I long to,
and uncle is going to show me a manikin that you
can take to pieces. Just think how nice it will be to
see all the organs in their places; I only wish they
could be made to work as ours do."
It was funny to see Aunt Myra's face as Rose
stood before her talking rapidly with one hand
laid in the friendliest manner on the skeleton's
shoulder. Every word both the Doctor and Rose
uttered hit the good lady in her weakest spot, and
as she looked and listened a long array of bottles
and pill-boxes rose up before her, reproachingher
with the "ignorance and want of thought" that
made her what she was, a nervous, dyspeptic, un-
happy old woman.
Well, I don't know but you may be right,
Alec, only I would n't carry it too far. Women
don't need much of this sort of knowledge and are
not fit for it. I could n't bear to touch that ugly
thing, and it gives me the creeps to hear about
'organs,'" said Aunt Myra, with a sigh and her
hand on her side.
"Would n't it be a comfort to know that your
liver was on the right side, auntie, and not on the
left?" asked Rose with a naughty laugh in her
eyes, for she had lately learned that Aunt Myra's.
liver complaint was not in the proper place.
"It's a dying world, child, and it don't much
matter where the pain is, for sooner or later we all
drop off and are seen no more," was Aunt Myra's
cheerful reply.
Well I intend to know what kills me if I can,
and meantime I'm going to enjoy myself in spite
of a dying world. I wish you'd do so too, and
come and study with uncle, it would do you good
I'm sure," and Rose went back to counting verte-
brae with such a happy face that Aunt Myra had
not the heart to say a word to dampen her ardor.
Perhaps it's as well to let her do what she likes
the little while she is with us. But pray be care-
ful of her, Alec, and not allow her to overwork,"
she whispered as she went out.
"That's exactly what I 'm trying to do, ma'am,
and rather a hard job I find it," he added as he


EIGHT COUSINS.


1875.]






EIGHT COUSINS.


shut the door, for the dear aunts were dreadfully in
his way sometimes.
Half an hour later came another interruption
in the shape of Mac, who announced his arrival by
the brief but elegant remark:
Hullo what new game is this ?"
Rose explained, Mac gave a long whistle of sur-
prise, and then took a promenade round the skele-
ton observing gravely:
"Brother Bones looks very jolly, but I can't say
much for his beauty."
You must n't make fun of him, for he's a good
old fellow, and you'd be just as ugly if your flesh
was off," said Rose, defending her new friend with
warmth.,
"I dare say, so I'll keep my flesh on, thank
you. You are so busy you can't read to a fellow I
suppose?" asked Mac, whose eyes were better,
but still too weak for books.
Don't you want to come and join my class?
Uncle explains it all to us, and you can take a look
at the plates as they come along. We '11 give up
bones to-day and have eyes instead; that will be
more interesting to you," added Rose, seeing no
ardent thirst for physiological information in his
face.
Rose, we must not fly about from one thing to
another in this way," began Dr. Alec; but she
whispered quickly, with a nod toward Mac, whose
goggles were turned wistfully in the direction of the
forbidden books:
"He's blue to-day, and we must amuse him;
give a little lecture on eyes, and it will do him good.
No matter about me, uncle."
"Very well; the class will please be seated,"
and the Doctor gave a sounding rap on the table.
Come, sit by me, dear, then we can both see
the pictures; and if your head gets tired you can
lie down," said Rose, generously opening her little
college to a brother, and kindly providing for the
weaknesses that all humanity is subject to.
Side by side they sat and listened to a very sim-
ple explanation of the mechanism of the eye, find-
ing it as wonderful as a fairy tale, for fine plates
illustrated it, and a very willing teacher did his best
to make the lesson pleasant.
Jove if I'd known what mischief I was doing
to that mighty delicate machine of mine, you
would n't have caught me reading by fire-light, or
studying with a glare of sunshine on my book,"
said Mac, peering solemnly at a magnified eye-ball;
then, pushing it away, he added indignantly:
"Why is n't a fellow taught all about his works,
and how to manage 'em, and not left to go blun-
dering into all sorts of worries? Telling him after
he's down is n't much use, for then he's found it
out himself and wont thank you."


"Ah, Mac, that's just what I keep lecturing
about, and people wont listen. You lads need that
sort of knowledge so much, and fathers and moth-
ers ought to be able to give it to you. Few of
them are able, and so we all go blundering as you
say. Less Greek and Latin and more knowledge
of the laws of health for my boys, if I had them.
Mathematics are all very well, but morals are bet-
ter, and I wish, how I wish that I could help teach-
ers and parents to feel it as they ought."
"Some do; Aunt Jessie and her boys have cap-
ital talks and I wish we could; but mother's so
busy with her housekeeping, and father with his
business, there never seems to be any time for that
sort of thing; even if there was, it don't seem as if
it would be easy to talk to them, because we've
never got into the way of it, you know."
Poor Mac was right there, and expressed a want
that many a boy and girl feels. Fathers and
mothers are too absorbed in business and house-
keeping to study their children, and cherish that
sweet and natural confidence which is a child's
surest safeguard, and a parent's subtlest power.
So the young hearts hide trouble or temptation till
the harm is done, and mutual regret comes too
late. Happy the boys and girls who tell all things
freely to father or mother, sure of pity, help and
pardon; and thrice happy the parents, who out of
their own experience, and by their own virtues, can
teach and uplift the souls for which they are re-
sponsible.
This longing stirred in the hearts of Rose and
Mac, and by a natural impulse both turned to Dr.
Alec, for in this queer world of ours, fatherly and
motherly hearts often beat warm and wise in the
breasts of bachelor uncles and maiden aunts; and
it is my private opinion that these worthy creatures
are a beautiful provision of nature for the cherish-
ing of other people's children. They certainly get
great comfort out of it, and receive much innocent
affection that otherwise would be lost.
Dr. Alec was one of these, and his big heart had
room for every one of the eight cousins, especially
orphaned Rose and afflicted Mac; so, when the
boy uttered that unconscious reproach to his
parents, and Rose added with a sigh, It must be
beautiful to have a mother! "-the good Doctor
yearned over them, and, shutting his book with a
decided slam, said in that cordial voice of his:
Now lookhere, children, you just come and tell
me all your worries, and with God's help I'11 set-
tle them for you. That is what I 'm here for I be-
lieve, and it will be a great happiness to me if you
can trust me."
We can, uncle, and we will!" both answered
with a heartiness that gratified him much.
Good now school is dismissed, and I advise


666


[SEPTEMBER,






EIGHT COUSINS.


you to go and refresh your 600,000,000 air cells by
a brisk run in the garden. Come again whenever
you like, Mac, and we '11 teach you all we can about
your 'works,' as you call them, so you can keep
them running smoothly."
We '11 come, sir, much obliged," and the class
in physiology went out to walk.
Mac did come again, glad to find something he
could study in spite of his weak eyes, and learned
much that was of more value than anything his
school had ever taught him.
Of course, the other lads made great fun of the
whole thing, and plagued Dr. Alec's students half
out of their lives. But they kept on persistently,
and one day something happened which made the
other fellows behave themselves forever after.
It was a holiday, and Rose up in her room
thought she heard the voices of her cousins, so she
ran down to welcome them, but found no one
there.
"Never mind, they will be here soon, and then
we'11 have a frolic," she said to herself, and think-
ing she had been mistaken she went into the study
to wait. She was lounging over the table looking
at a map, when an odd noise caught her ear. A
gentle tapping somewhere, and following the sound
it seemed to come from the inside of the long case in
which the skeleton lived when not professionally
engaged. This case stood upright in a niche be-
tween two book-cases at the back of the room, a
darkish corner, where Brother Bones, as the boys
would call him, was out of the way.
As Rose stood looking in that direction, and won-
dering if a rat had got shut in, the door of the case
swung slowly open, and with a great start she saw
a bony arm lifted, and a bony finger beckon t' her.
For a minute she was frightened, and ran to the
study door with a fluttering heart, but just as she
touched the handle a queer, stifled sort of giggle
made her stop short and turn red with anger. She
paused an instant to collect herself, and then went
softly toward the bony beckoner. A nearer look
revealed black threads tied to the arm and fingers,
the ends of threads disappearing through holes
bored in the back of the case. Peeping into the
deep recess, she also caught sight of the tip of an
elbow covered with a rough gray cloth which she
knew very well.
Quick as a flash she understood the joke, her fear
vanished, and with a wicked smile, she whipped
out her scissors, cut the threads, and the bony arm
dropped with a rattle. Before she could say,
Come out, Charlie, and let my skeleton alone," a
sudden irruption of boys all in a high state of tickle
proclaimed to the hidden rogue that his joke was a
failure.
I told him not to do it, because it might give


you a start," explained Archie, emerging from the
closet.
I had a smelling-bottle all ready if she fainted
away," added Steve, popping up from behind the
great chair.
It's too bad of you not to squawk and run, we
depended on it, its such fun to howl after you,"
said Will and Geordie, rolling out from under the
sofa in a promiscuous heap.
"You are getting altogether too strong-minded,
Rose; most girls would have been in a jolly twitter
to see this old fellow waggling his finger at them,"
complained Charlie, squeezing out from his tight
quarters, dusty and disgusted.
"I 'm used to your pranks now, so I 'm always on
the watch and prepared. But I wont have Brother
Bones made fun of. I know uncle would n't like
it, so please don't," began Rose just as Dr. Alec
came in, and, seeing the- state of the case at a
glance, he said quietly:
"Hear how I got that skeleton and then I'm
sure you will treat it with respect."
The boys settled down at once on any article of
furniture that was nearest and listened dutifully.
Years ago when I was in the hospital, a poor
fellow was brought there with a rare and very.
painful disease. There was no hope for him, but
we did our best, and he was so grateful that when
he died he left us his body that we might discover
the mysteries of his complaint, and so be able
to help others afflicted in the same way. It did
do good, and his brave patience made us re-
member him long after he was gone. He thought
I had been kind to him, and said to a fellow-stu-
dent of mine: Tell the Doctor I lave him me
bones, for I've nothing else in the wide world,
and I'11 not be wanting 'em at all, at all, when the
great pain has kilt me entirely.' So that is how
they came to be mine, and why I 've kept them
carefully; for, though only a poor, ignorant fellow,
Mike Nolan did what he could to help others, and
prove his gratitude to those who tried to help him."
As Dr. Alec paused, Archie closed the door of
the case as respectfully as if the mummy of an
Egyptian king was inside; Will and Geordie
looked solemnly at one another, evidently much
impressed, and Charlie pensively remarked from
the coal hod where he sat:
I've often heard of a skeleton in the house, but
I think few people have one as useful and as inter-
esting as ours."

CHAPTER XX.
UNDER THE MISTLETOE.
ROSE made Phebe promise that she would bring
her stocking into the Bower," as she called her


1875.1







EIGHT COUSINS.


pretty room, on Christmas morning, because that
first delicious rummage loses half its charm if two
little night-caps at least do not meet over the treas-
ures, and two happy voices Oh and Ah together.
So when Rose opened her eyes that day, they
fell upon faithful Phebe, rolled up in a shawl, sit-
ting on the rug before a blazing fire, with her un-
touched stocking laid beside her.
Merry Christmas cried the little mistress,
smiling gayly.
"Merry Christmas," answered the little maid,
so heartily that it did one good to hear her.
Bring the stockings right away, Phebe, and
let's see what we've got," said Rose. sitting up
among the pillows, and looking as eager as a child.
A pair of long knobby hose were laid out upon
the coverlet and their contents examined with de-
light, though each knew every blessed thing that
had been put into the other's stocking.
Never mind what they were, it is evident that
they were quite satisfactory, for as Rose leaned
back, she said, with a luxurious sigh of satisfaction:
" Now, I believe I've got everything in the world
that I want," and Phebe answered, smiling over a
lap-full of treasures: "This is the most splendid
Christmas I ever had since I was born." Then,
she added with an important air:
"Do wish for something else, because I happen
to know of two more presents outside the door this
minute."
Oh, me, what richness cried Rose, much
excited. I used to wish for a pair of glass slip-
pers like Cinderella's, but as I can't have them, I
really don't know what to ask for."
Phebe clapped her hands as she skipped off the
bed and ran to the door, saying merrily:
One of them is for your feet anyway. I don't
know what you '11 say to the other, but I think it's
elegant."
So did Rose, when a shining pair of skates and a
fine sled appeared.
Uncle sent those; I know he did, and now I
see them, I remember that I did want to skate
and coast. Is n't it a beauty? See they fit
nicely," and sitting on the new sled, Rose tried a
skate on her little bare foot, while Phebe stood by
admiring the pretty tableau.
Now we must hurry and get dressed, for there
is a deal to do to-day, and I want to get through in
time to try my sled before dinner."
"Gracious me, and I ought to be dusting my
parlors this blessed minute and mistress and
maid separated with such happy faces that any one
would have known what day it was without being
told.
Birnam Wood has come to Dunsinane, Rosy,"
said Dr. Alec, as he left the breakfast table to open


the door for a procession of holly, hemlock, and
cedar boughs that came marching up the steps.
Snow-balls and "Merry Christmas "s flew about
pretty briskly for several minutes; then all fell to
work trimming up the old house, for the family
always dined together there on that day.
I rode miles and mileses, as Ben says, to get
this fine bit, and I'm going to hang it there as the
last touch to the rig-a madooning," said Charlie,
as he fastened a dull green branch to the chandelier
in the front parlor.
It isn't very pretty," said Rose, who was trim-
ming the chimney-piece with glossy holly sprays.
"Never mind that, it's mistletoe, and any one
who stands under it will get kissed whether they
like it or not. Now's your time, ladies," answered
the saucy Prince, keeping his place and looking
sentimentally at the girls, who retired precipitately
from the dangerous spot.
"You wont catch me," said Rose, with great
dignity.
See if I don't! "
I've got my eye on Phebe," observed Will, in
a patronizing tone that made them all laugh.
"Bless the dear; I sha'n't mind it a bit," an-
swered Phebe, with such a maternal air that Will's
budding gallantry was chilled to death.
Oh, the mistletoe bough sang Rose.
"Oh, the mistletoe bough! echoed all the
boys, and the teasing ended in the plaintive ballad
they all liked so well.
There was plenty of time to try the new skates
before dinner, and then Rose took her first lesson on
the little bay, which seemed to have frozen over for
that express purpose. She found tumbling down
and getting up again warm work for a time, but with
six boys to teach her, she managed at last to stand
alone; and satisfied with that success, she refreshed
herself with a dozen grand coasts on the "Amazon,"
as her sled was called.
Ah, that fatal color it breaks my heart to see
it," croaked Aunt Myra, as Rose came down a
little late, with cheeks almost as ruddy as the holly
berries on the wall, and every curl as smooth as
Phebe's careful hands could make it.
"I'm glad to see that Alec allows the poor child
to make herself pretty in spite of his absurd
notions," added Aunt Clara, taking infinite satisfac-
tion in the fact that Rose's blue silk dress had
three frills on it.
She is a very intelligent child and has a nice
little manner of her own," observed Aunt Jane,
with unusual affability; for Rose had just handed
Mac a screen to guard his eyes from the brilliant
fire.
If I had a daughter like that to show my Jem
when he gets home, I should be a very proud and


668


[SEPTEMBER,






EIGHT COUSINS.


happy woman," thought Aunt Jessie, and then re-
proached herself for not being perfectly satisfied
with her four brave lads.
Aunt Plenty was too absorbed in the dinner to
have an eye for anything else; if she had not been,
she would have seen what an effect her new cap pro-
duced upon the boys. The good lady owned that
she did "love a dressy cap," and on this occasion
her head-gear was magnificent; for the towering
structure of lace was adorned with buff ribbons to
such an extent, that it looked as if a flock of yellow
butterflies had settled on her dear old head. When
she trotted about the rooms the ruches quivered,
the little bows all stood erect, and the streamers
waved in the breeze so comically that it was abso-
lutely necessary for Archie to smother the Brats in
the curtains till they had had their first laugh out.
Uncle Mac had brought Fun See to dinner, and
it was a mercy he did, for the elder lads found a vent
for their merriment in joking the young Chinaman
on his improved appearance. He was in American
costume now, with a shaved head, and spoke
remarkably good English after six months at
school; but, for all that, his yellow face and beady
eyes made a curious contrast to the blonde Campbells
all about him. Will called him the "Typhoon,"
meaning Tycoon, and the name stuck to him to
his great disgust.
Aunt Peace was brought down and set in the
chair of state at table, for she never failed to
join the family on this day, and sat smiling at them
all "like an embodiment of Peace on earth," as
Uncle Alec said, as he took his place beside her,
while Uncle Mac supported Aunt Plenty at the
other end.
I ate hardly any breakfast, and I've done
everything I know to make myself extra hungry,
but I really don't think I can eat straight through,
unless I burst my buttons off," whispered Geordie
to Will, as he surveyed the bounteous stores before
him with a hopeless sigh.
A fellow never knows what he can do till he
tries," answered Will, attacking his heaped up
plate with the evident intention of doing his duty
like a man.
Everybody knows what a Christmas dinner is, so
we need waste no words in describing this one, but
hasten at once to tell what happened at the end of
it. The end, by the way, was so long in coming
that the gas was lighted before dessert was over,
for a snow flurry had come on and the wintery day-
light faded fast. But that only made it all the jollier
in the warm, bright rooms, full of happy souls.
Every one was very merry, but Archie seemed
particular uplifted,-so much so, that Charlie con-
fided to Rose that he was afraid the Chief had
been at the decanters.


Rose indignantly denied the insinuation, for
when health were drunk in the good old-fashioned
way to suit the elders, she had observed that Aunt
Jessie's boys filled their glasses with water, and
had done the same herself in spite of the Prince's
jokes about the rosy."
But, Archie certainly was unusually excited, and
when some one remembered that it was the anni-
versary of Uncle Jem's wedding, and wished he
was there to make a speech, his son electrified
the family by trying to do it for him. It was
rather incoherent and flowery, as maiden speeches
are apt to be, but the end was considered superb;
for, turning to his mother with a queer little choke
in his voice, he said that she "deserved to be
blessed with peace and plenty, to be crowned with
roses and lads-love; to receive the cargo of hap-
piness sailing home to her in spite of wind or tide;
to add another Jem to the family jewels."
That allusion to the Captain, now on his return-
trip, made Mrs. Jessie sob in her napkin, and set
the boys cheering. Then, as if that was not sen-
sation enough, Archie suddenly dashed out of the
room as if he had lost his wits.
"Too bashful to stay and be praised," began
Charlie, excusing the peculiarities of his chief as
in duty bound.
Phebe beckoned to him; I saw her," cried
Rose, staring hard at the door.
"Is it more presents coming?" asked Jamie,
just as his brother re-appeared looking more ex-
cited than ever.
"Yes; a present for mother, and here it is!"
roared Archie, flinging wide the door to let in a
tall man who cried out:
"Where's my little woman? The first kiss for
her, then the rest may come on as fast as they
like."
Before the words were out of his mouth, Mrs.
Jessie was half hidden under his rough, great coat,
and four boys were prancing about him clamoring
for their turn. Of course, there was a joyful
tumult for a time, during which Rose slipped into
the window recess and watched what went on, as if
it were a chapter in a Christmas story. It was
good to see bluff Uncle Jem look proudly at his
tall son, and fondly hug the little ones. It was
better still to see him shake his brothers'
hands as if he would never leave off, and kiss all
the sisters in a way that made even solemn Aunt
Myra brighten up for a minute. But it was best
of all to see him finally established in grand-
father's chair, with his little woman beside him,
his three youngest boys in his lap, and Archie
hovering over him like a large-sized cherub. That
really was, as Charlie said, "A landscape to do
one's heart good."


1875.]


669








EIGHT COUSINS. [SEPTEMBER,


"All hearty and all here, thank God!" said
Captain Jem in the first pause that came, as he
looked about him with a grateful face.
All but Rose," answered loyal little Jamie, re-
membering the absent.
Faith, I forgot the child Where is George's
little girl ? asked the Captain, who had not seen
her since she was a baby.
You'd better say Alec's great girl," said Uncle
Mac, who professed to be madly jealous of his
brother.
Here I am, sir," and Rose appeared from be-
hind the curtains, looking as if she had rather have
staid there.
Saint George Germain, how the mite has
grown!" cried Captain Jem, as he tumbled the
boys out of his lap, and rose to greet the tall girl,
like a gentleman as he was. But, somehow, when
he shook her hand it looked so small in his big one
and her face reminded him so strongly of his dead
brother, that he was not satisfied with so cold a
welcome, and with a sudden softening of the keen
eyes he took her up in his arms, whispering with a
rough cheek against her smooth one:
God bless you, child! forgive me if I forgot
you for a minute, and be sure that not one of your
kinsfolk is happier to see you here than Uncle
Jem."
That made it all right; and when he set her
down, Rose's face was so bright it was evident that
some spell had been used to banish the feeling of
neglect that had kept her moping behind the
curtain so long.
Then every one sat round and heard all about
the voyage home. How the Captain had set his
heart on getting there in time to keep Christmas;
how everything had conspired to thwart his plan,
and how at the very last minute he had managed
to do it, and had sent a telegram to Archie, bid-
ding him keep the secret, and be ready for his
father at any moment, for the ship got into another
port and he might be late.
Then, Archie told how that telegram had burnt
in his pocket all dinner time; how he had to take
Phebe into his confidence, and how clever she was
to keep the Captain back till the speech was over,
and he could come in with effect.
The elders would have sat and talked all the
evening, but the young folks were bent on having
their usual Christmas frolic; so, after an hour of
pleasant chat, they began to get restless, and
having consulted together in dumb show, they de-
vised a way to very effectually break up the family
council.
Steve vanished, and, sooner than the boys imag-
ined Dandy could get himself up, the skirl of
the bag-pipe was heard in the hall, and the


bonny piper came to lead Clan Campbell to the
revel.
Draw it mild, Stenie, my man; ye play unco
weel, but ye make a most infernal din," cried
Uncle Jem, with his hands over his ears, for this
accomplishment was new to him and took him
all aback," as he expressed it.
So Steve droned out a Highland reel as softly as
he could, and the boys danced it to a circle of
admiring relations. Captain Jem was a true sailor,
however, and could not stand idle while anything
lively was going on; so, when the piper's breath
gave out, he cut a splendid pigeon-wing into the
middle of the hall, saying: "Who can dance a
Fore and After?" and waiting for no reply,
began to whistle the air so invitingly that Mrs.
Jessie "set" to him laughing like a girl; Rose
and Charlie took their places behind, and away
went the four with a spirit and skill that inspired
all the rest to cut in" as fast as they could.
That was a grand beginning, and they had
many another dance before any one would own
they were tired. Even Fun See distinguished him-
self with Aunt Plenty, whom he greatly admired
as the stoutest lady in the company; plumpness
being considered a beauty in his country. The
merry old soul professed herself immensely flat-
tered by his admiration, and the boys declared she
" set her cap at him," else he would never have
dared to catch her under the mistletoe, and rising
on the tips of his own toes, gallantly salute her fat
cheek.
How they all laughed at her astonishment, and
how Fun's little black eyes twinkled over this ex-
ploit Charlie put him up to it, and Charlie was
so bent on catching Rose, that he laid all sorts of
pitfalls for her, and bribed the other lads to help
him. But Rose was wide-awake and escaped all
his snares, professing great contempt for such
foolish customs. Poor Phebe did not fare so well,
and Archie was the one who took a base advantage
of her as she stood innocently offering tea to Aunt
Myra, whom she happened to meet just under the
fatal bough. If his father's arrival had not rather
upset him, I doubt if the dignified Chief would
have done it, for he apologized at once in the
handsomest manner, and caught the tray that
nearly dropped from Phebe's hands.
Jamie boldly invited all the ladies to come and
salute him; and as for Uncle Jem, he behaved as
if the entire room was a grove of mistletoe. Uncle
Alec slyly laid a bit of it on Aunt Peace's cap, and
then softly kissed her; which little joke seemed to
please her very much, for she liked to have part in
all the home pastimes, and Alec was her favorite
nephew.
Charlie alone failed to catch his shy bird, and the


670


EIGHT COUSINS.


[SEPTEMBER,






EIGHT COUSINS.


oftener she escaped the more determined he was to
ensnare her. When every other wile hadbeen tried
in vain, he got Archie to propose a game with for-
feits.
"I understand that dodge," thought Rose, and


--.^^- ^ ^-'

^ ", -' "* :. ~ 6 -
'^^^ '~


FUN SEE AND AUNT PLENTY UNDER THE MISTLETOE.
was on her' guard so carefully that not one among
the pile soon collected belonged to her.
Now let us redeem them and play something
else," said Will, quite unconscious of the deeply
laid plots all about him.
"One more round and then we will," answered
the Prince, who had now baited his trap anew.
Just as the question came to Rose, Jamie's voice
was heard in the hall crying distressfully, "Oh,
come quick, quick Rose started up, missed the
question and was greeted with a general cry of
" Forfeit! forfeit in which the little traitor came
to join.
Now I've got her," thought the young rascal,
exulting in his fun-loving soul.
"Now I'm lost," thought Rose, as she gave up
her pincushion with a sternly defiant look that
would have daunted any one but the reckless
Prince. In fact, it made even him think twice,


and resolve to "let Rose off easy," she had been
so clever.
Here's a very pretty pawn, and what shall be
done to redeem it ? asked Steve, holding the pin-
cushion over Charlie's head, for he had insisted on
being judge, and kept that for the last.
Fine or superfine ?"
Super."
Hum, well, she shall take old Mac un-
der the mistletoe and kiss him prettily.
Wont he be mad though ? "-and this bad
boy chuckled over the discomfort he had
caused two harmless beings.
There was an impressive pause among
the young folks in their corner, for they all
knew that Mac would "be mad," since he
hated nonsense of this sort, and had gone
to talk with the elders when the game be-
gan. At this moment he was standing
before the fire, listening to a discussion
between his uncles and his father, looking
as wise as a young owl, and blissfully un-
conscious of the plots against him.
Charlie expected that Rose would say, "I
wont !" therefore he was rather astonished,
not to say gratified, when, after a look at
the victim, she laughed suddenly, and,
going up to the group of gentlemen, drew
her uncle Mac under the mistletoe and sur-
prised him with a. hearty kiss.
"Thank you, my dear," said the inno-
cent gentleman, looking much pleased at
the unexpected honor.
"Oh, come; that's not fair," began
Charlie. But Rose cut him short by saying,
as she made him a fine courtesy:
"You said 'old Mac,' and though it was
very disrespectful, I did it. That was your
last chance, sir, and you 've lost it."
He certainly had, for, as she spoke, Rose pulled
down the mistletoe and threw it into the fire,
while the boys jeered at the crest-fallen Prince,
and exalted quick-witted Rose to the skies.
What's the joke ? asked young Mac, waked
out of a brown study by the laughter, in which the
elders joined.
But there was a regular shout when, the matter
having been explained to him, Mac took a medi-
tative stare at Rose through his goggles, and said
in a philosophical tone, "Well, I don't think I
should have minded much if she had done it."
That tickled the lads immensely, and nothing but
the appearance of a slight refection would have
induced them to stop chaffing the poor Worm,
who could not see anything funny in the beautiful
resignation he had shown on this trying occasion.
Soon after this, the discovery of Jamie curled








EIGHT COUSINS. [SEPTEMBER,


up in the sofa corner, as sound asleep as a dormouse,
suggested the propriety of going home, and a
general move was made.
They were all standing about the hall lingering
over the good-nights, when the sound of a voice
softly singing "Sweet Home," made them pause
and listen. It was Phebe, poor little Phebe, who
never had a home, never knew the love of father
or mother, brother or sister; who stood all alone
in the wide world, yet was not sad nor afraid, but
took her bits of happiness gratefully, and sung
over her work without a thought of discontent.
I fancy the happy family standing there together
remembered this and felt the beauty of it, for
when the solitary voice came to the burden of its
song, other voices took it up and finished it so
sweetly, that the old house seemed to echo the
word "Home in the ears of both the orphan
girls, who had just spent their first Christmas
under its hospitable roof.

CHAPTER XXI.
A SCARE.
"BROTHER ALEC, you surely don't mean to
allow that child to go out such a bitter cold day as
this? said Mrs. Myra, looking into the study,
where the Doctor sat reading his paper, one
February morning.
"Why not? If a delicate invalid like yourself
can bear it, surely my hearty girl can, especially as
she is dressed for cold weather," answered Dr.
Alec with provoking confidence.
But you have no idea how sharp the wind is.
I am chilled to the very marrow of my bones," an-
swered Aunt Myra, chafing the end of her purple
nose with her somber glove.
"I don't doubt it, ma'am, if you will wear crape
and silk instead of fur and flannel. Rosy goes out
in all weathers, and will be none the worse for an
hour's brisk skating."
Well, I warn you that you are trifling with the
child's health, and depending too much on the
seeming improvement she has made this year. She
is a delicate creature for all that, and will drop
away suddenly at the first serious attack, as her
poor mother did," croaked Aunt Myra, with a de-
spondent wag of the big bonnet.
"I'll risk it," answered Dr. Alec, knitting his
brows, as he always did when any allusion was
made to that other Rose.
Mark my words, you will repent it," and, with
that awful prophecy, Aunt Myra departed like a
black shadow.
Now it must be confessed that among the Doctor's
faults-and he had his share--was a very mascu-
line dislike of advice which was thrust upon him


unasked. He always listened with respect to the
great aunts, and often consulted Mrs. Jessie; but
the other three ladies tried his patience sorely, by
constant warnings, complaints, and counsels. Aunt
Myra was an especial trial, and he always turned
contrary the moment she began to talk. He could
not help it, and often laughed about it with comic
frankness. Here now was a sample of it, for he
had just been thinking that Rose had better defer
her run till the wind went down and the sun was
warmer. But Aunt Myra spoke, and he could not
resist the temptation to make light of her advice,
and let Rose brave the cold. He had no fear of its
harming her, for she went out every day, and it
was a great satisfaction to him to see her run down
the avenue a minute afterward, with her skates on
her arm, looking like a rosy-faced Esquimaux in
her seal-skin suit, as she smiled at Aunt Myra
stalking along as solemnly as a crow.
I hope the child wont stay out long, for this
wind is enough to chill the marrow in younger
bones than Myra's," thought Dr. Alec, half an
hour later, as he drove toward the city to see the
few patients he had consented to take for old
acquaintance' sake.
The thought returned several times that morn-
ing, for it was truly a bitter day, and, in spite of his
bear-skin coat, the Doctor shivered. But he had
great faith in Rose's good sense, and it never
occurred to him that she was making a little Casa-
bianca of herself, with the difference of freezing
instead of burning at her post.
You see, Mac had made an appointment to
meet her at a certain spot, and have a grand skat-
ing bout as soon as the few lessons he was allowed
were over. She had promised to wait for him,
and did so with a faithfulness that cost her dear,
because Mac forgot his appointment when the
lessons were done, and became absorbed in a
chemical experiment, till a general combustion of
gases drove him out of his laboratory. Then he
suddenly remembered Rose and would gladly have
hurried away to her, but his mother forbade his
going out, for the sharp wind would hurt his eyes.
She will wait and wait, mother, for she al-
ways keeps her word, and I told her to hold on till
I come," explained Mac, with visions of a shiver-
ing little figure watching on the windy hill-top.
"Of course, your uncle wont let her go out such
a day as this. If he does, she will have the sense
to come here for you, or to go home again when
you don't appear," said Aunt Jane, returning to
her "Locke on the Mind."
I wish Steve would just cut up and see if she 's
there, since I can't go," began Mac, anxiously.
Steve wont stir a peg, thank you. He's got
his own toes to thaw out, and wants his dinner,"


[SEPTEMBER,


EIGHT COUSINS.






EIGHT COUSINS.


answered Dandy, just in from school, and wrest-
ling impatiently with his boots.
So Mac resigned himself, and Rose waited duti-
fully till dinner-time assured her that her waiting
was in vain. She had done her best to keep warm,
had skated till she was tired and hot, then stood
watching others till she was chilled; tried to get
up a glow again by trotting up and down the road,
but failed to do so, and finally cuddled disconso-
lately under a pine-tree to wait and watch. When
she at length started for home, she was benumbed
with the cold, and could hardly make her way


I, .0 I '









-.i-- \ 'S : ,
__ -. .


her on the sofa rolled up in the bear-skin coat, with
Phebe rubbing her cold feet while he rubbed the
aching hands, and Aunt Plenty made a comfort-
able hot drink, and Aunt Peace sent down her own
foot-warmer and embroidered blanket "for the
dear."
Full of remorseful tenderness, Uncle Alec worked
over his new patient till she declared she was all
right again. He would not let her get up to dinner,
but fed her himself, and then forgot his own while
he sat watching her fall into a drowse, for Aunt
Plenty's cordial made her sleepy.


...
* 'II
4 -.


ROSE'S DISCONSOLATE WATCH.


against the wind that buffeted the frost-bitten rose
most unmercifully.
Dr. Alec was basking in the warmth of the study
fire, after his drive, when the sound of a stifled
sob made him hurry to the door and look anxiously
into the hall. Rose lay in a shivering bunch near
the register, with her things half off, wringing her
hands, and trying not to cry with the pain re-
turning warmth brought to her half-frozen fingers.
My darling, what is it ?" and Uncle Alec had
her in his arms, in a minute.
Mac did n't come I can't get warm -
the fire makes me ache and with a long shiver
Rose burst out crying, while her teeth chattered,
and her poor little nose was so blue, it made one's
heart ache to see it.
In less time than it takes to tell it, Dr. Alec had
VOL. II.-44.


She lay so several hours, for the drowse deepened
into a heavy sleep, and Uncle Alec, still at his
post, saw with growing anxiety that a feverish
color began to burn in her cheeks, that her breath-
ing was quick and uneven, and now and then she
gave a little moan, as if in pain. Suddenly she
woke up with a start, and seeing Aunt Plenty bend-
ing over her, put out her arms like a sick child,
saying wearily: Please, could I go to bed? "
"The best place for you, deary. Take her
right up, Alec; I've got the hot water ready, and
after a nice bath, she shall have a cup of my sage
tea, and be rolled up in blankets to sleep off her
cold," answered the old lady, cheerily, as she
bustled away to give orders.
Are you in pain, darling? asked Uncle Alec,
as he carried her up.


'' '


j:







EIGHT COUSINS.


"My side aches when I breathe, and I feel stiff
and queer; but it is n't bad, so don't be troubled,
uncle," whispered Rose, with a little hot hand
against his cheek.
But the poor Doctor did look troubled, and
had cause to do so, for just then Rose tried to
laugh at Dolly charging into .the room with a
warming-pan, but could not, for the sharp pain that
took her breath away, and made her cry out.
Pleurisy," sighed Aunt Plenty, from the depths
of the bath-tub.
Pewmonia !" groaned Dolly, burrowing among
the bed-clothes with the long-handled pan, as if
bent on fishing up that treacherous disease.
Oh, is it bad? asked Phebe, nearly dropping
a pail of hot water in her dismay, for she knew
nothing of sickness, and Dolly's suggestion had a
peculiarly dreadful sound to her.
Hush !" ordered the Doctor, in a tone that
silenced all further predictions, and made every
one work with a will.
Make her as comfortable as you can, and
when she is in her little bed, I '11 come and say
good-night," he added, when the bath was ready
and the blankets browning nicely before the fire.
Then he went away to talk quite cheerfully to
Aunt Peace about its being only a chill; after
which he tramped up and down the hall, pulling
his beard and knitting his brows, sure signs of
great inward perturbation.
"I thought it would be too good luck to get
through the year without a downfall. Confound
my perversity why could n't I take Myra's advice
and keep Rose at home. It's not fair that the
poor child should suffer for my sinful over-confi-
dence. She shall not suffer for it Pneumonia,
indeed! I defy it !" and he shook his fist in the
ugly face of an Indian idol that happened to be
before him, as if that particularly hideous god had
some spite against his own little goddess.
In spite of his defiance his heart sunk when he
saw Rose again, for the pain was worse, and the
bath and blankets, the warming-pan and piping-
hot sage tea, were all in vain. For several hours
there was no rest for the poor child, and all man-
ner of gloomy forebodings haunted the minds of
those who hovered about her with faces full of the
tenderest anxiety.
In the midst of the worst paroxysm Charlie
came to leave a message from his mother, and
was met by Phebe coming despondently down
stairs with a mustard plaster that had brought no
relief.
What the dickens is the matter? You look as
dismal as a tombstone," he said, as she held up
her hand to stop his lively whistling.
Miss Rose is dreadful sick."


The deuce she is "
"Don't swear, Mr. Charlie; she really is, and
it's Mr. Mac's fault," and Phebe told the sad tale
in a few sharp words, for she felt at war with the
entire race of boys at that moment.
I'11 give it to him, make your mind easy about
that," said Charlie, with an ominous doubling up
of his fist. But Rose is n't dangerously ill, is
she?" he added anxiously, as Aunt Plenty was
seen to trot across the upper hall, shaking a bottle
violently as she went.
Oh, but she is, though. The Doctor don't say
much, but he don't call it a chill' any more.
It's pleurisy' now, and I'm so afraid it will
be fewmonia to-morrow," answered Phebe, with a
despairing glance at the plaster.
Charlie exploded into a stifled laugh at the new
pronunciation of pneumonia, to Phebe's great in-
dignation.
How can you have the heart to do it, and she
in such horrid pain ? Hark to that and then laugh
if you darst," she said with a tragic gesture, and
her black eyes full of fire.
Charlie listened and heard little moans that
went to his heart and made his face as sober as
Phebe's. "Oh, uncle, please stop the pain and
let me rest a minute Don't tell the boys I was n't
brave. I try to bear it, but it's so sharp I can't
help crying !"
Neither could Charlie, when he heard the broken
voice say that; but, boy-like, he would n't own it,
and said pettishly, as he rubbed his sleeve across
his eyes:
"Don't hold that confounded thing right under
my nose; the mustard makes my eyes smart."
Don't see how it can, when it has n't any more
strength in it than meal. The Doctor said so, and
I'm going to get some better," began Phebe, not
a bit ashamed of the great tears that were bedew-
ing the condemned plaster.
"I'11 go !" and Charlie was off like a shot,
glad of an excuse to get out of sight for a few
minutes.
When he came back all inconvenient emotion
had been disposed of, and, having delivered a
box of the hottest mustard procurable for money,
he departed to "blow up" Mac, that being his
next duty in his opinion. He did it so energeti-
cally and thoroughly, that the poor Worm was
cast into the depths of .remorseful despair, and
went to bed that evening feeling that he was an
outcast from among men, and bore the mark of
Cain upon his brow.
Thanks to the skill of the Doctor, and the de-
votion of his helpers, Rose grew easier about mid-
night, and all hoped that the worst was over.
Phebe was making tea by the study fire, for the


674


[SEPTEMBER,






EIGHT COUSINS.


Doctor had forgotten to eat and drink since Rose
was ill, and Aunt Plenty insisted on his having a
"good, cordial dish of tea" after his exertions.
A tap on the window startled Phebe, and, looking
up, she saw a face peering in. She was not afraid,
for a second look showed her that it was neither
ghost nor burglar, but Mac, looking pale and
wild in the wintery moonlight.
Come and let a fellow in," he said in a low
tone, and when he stood in the hall he clutched
Phebe's arm, whispering gruffly, How is Rose? "
"Thanks be to goodness, she's better!" an-
swered Phebe, with a smile that was like broad
sunshine to the poor lad's anxious heart.
And she will be all right again to-morrow ?"
Oh, dear no. Dolly says she's sure to have
rheumatic fever, if she don't have noo-monia! "
.answered Phebe, careful to pronounce the word
rightly this time.
Down went Mac's face, and remorse began to
gnaw at him again as he gave a great sigh and said
doubtfully : "I suppose I could n't see her ? "
Of course not at this time of night, when we
want her to go to sleep "
Mac opened his mouth to say something more,
when a sneeze came upon him unawares, and a
loud Ah rash hoo awoke the echoes of the
quiet house.
"Why did n't you stop it?" said Phebe, re-
proachfully, I dare say you've waked her up."
Did n't know it was coming. Just my luck "
groaned Mac, turning to go before his unfortunate
presence did more harm.
But a voice from the stair-head called softly,
Mac, come up; Rose wants to see you." Up he
went, and found his uncle waiting for him.
What brings you here, at this hour, my boy ?"
asked the Doctor in a whisper.
Charlie said it was all my fault, and if she
died I'd killed her. I could n't sleep, so I came
to see how she was, and no one knows it but Steve,"
he said with such a troubled face and voice that
.the Doctor had not the heart to blame him.


Before he could say anything more a feeble
voice called "Mac! and with a hasty Stay a
minute just to please her, and then slip away, for
I want her to sleep," the Doctor led him into the
room.
The face on the pillow looked very pale and
childish, and the smile that welcomed Mac was
very faint, for Rose was spent with pain, yet could
not rest till she had said a word of comfort to her
cousin.
"I knew your funny sneeze, and I guessed that
you came to see how I did, though it is very late.
Don't be worried. I 'm better now, and it is my
fault I was ill, not yours; for I needn't have been
so silly as to wait in the cold just because I said I
would."
Mac hastened to explain, to load himself with
reproaches, and to beg her not to die on any ac-
count, for Charlie's lecture had made a deep im-
pression on the poor boy's mind.
I didn't know there was any danger of my
dying," and Rose looked up at him with a solemn
expression in her great eyes.
"Oh, I hope not; but people do sometimes go
suddenly, you know, and I could n't rest till I'd
asked you to forgive me," faltered Mac, thinking
that Rose looked very like an angel already, with
the golden hair loose on the pillow, and the meek-
ness of suffering on her little white face.
I don't think I shall, die ; uncle wont let me;
but if I do, remember I forgave you."
She looked at him with a tender light in her
eyes, and, seeing how pathetic his dumb grief was,
she added softly, drawing his head down: "I
would n't kiss you under the mistletoe, but I will
now, for I want you to be sure I do forgive and
love you just the same."
That quite upset poor Mac; he could only mur-
mur his thanks and get out of the room as fast as
possible, to grope his way, to the couch at the far
end of the hall, and lie there till he fell asleep,
worn out with trying not to "make a baby" of
himself.


(To be continued.)


7/



N C- ---( '.

(,, )',








TONY'S FIRST STILTS.


TONY'S FIRST STILTS.



- --..^ : "* : r *


"I WILL WALK ON MY NEW STILTS."


"DON'T BELIEVE THIS IS QUITE THE WAY."


"AM VERY SURE IT'S NOT."


"NOW I HAVE IT."'


S"HERE WE GO! "


OH I"


"OH!"


676


SEPTEMBERI


'ii


A LITTLE MIXED.


EXIT TONY.







SOME QUEER DISHES.


SOME QUEER DISHES.

BY FANNIE ROPER FEUDGE.


PEOPLE often laugh at the French for eating
frogs, and at the Chinese for liking young puppies;
but neither of these tastes can be compared with
some of the quaint dishes I have met in foreign
lands.
For instance, what would you say to dining on
elephant's heart, baked, and garnished with a
sauce made of monkey brains ? Queer enough,
you will think; but it is dainty fare, nevertheless;
and steaks cut from the loin or breast of a young
monkey are luscious beyond description. Even
the huge, ungainly feet of the elephant, when
baked between bricks, in a hole under ground,
furnish a repast fit for a king. And very few
besides kings and their families, with occasionally
a favored guest, ever get an opportunity of tasting
such a delicacy as elephant-meat in any form; for
in the East elephants are regarded as truly royal
beasts, and, living or dead, they are quite beyond
the reach of ordinary mortals. All along the
Malabar coast, and in very many of the Malayan
islands, as well as in Burmah and China, pig-
rats and "coffee-rats" are abundant, and in
high repute among epicures. They are not the
ordinary house-rat," nor the Norwegian "wharf-
rat" known among us; but an entirely different
species, growing often to a length of nearly two
feet, and weighing from two to three pounds.
They look very like our hares and squirrels, are
said to be cleanly, grain-eating animals, and fur-
nish, either boiled or curried, a most luscious
repast.
But for the name, I would have gladly feasted on
the tender, juicy meat, that looked sweet as a nut,
and sent forth a very appetizing aroma. But the
thought of eating rat-meat always took away my
desire for food; though I have been assured by
kings and princes who had all manner of dainties
at command, that it was impossible for any one to
conceive of a more delicate oi dainty tit-bit than
the breast of a broiled rat I
When dining, on one occasion, at the palace of
an Oriental Prince, after tasting of sundry unknown
dishes, I chanced upon one that specially suited
my palate, and partook of it quite freely. I pres-
ently inquired the ingredients of the savory fri-
cassee that had so pleased me, and learned, to
my unutterable horror, that I had been eating a
preparation of ants' eggs I lost my relish for the
meal, but I learned the wisdom of not asking, in


future, the name of any dish I happened to fancy
at Oriental tables. Among the Hottentots and
some other African tribes, the termites, or white
ants, are esteemed both palatable and nutritious.
They boil them, eat them raw, or toast them as we
do coffee. The last mode is considered the best,
and, thus prepared, they are said to resemble
sugared cream or sweet almonds.
Dr. Livingstone mentions a Bayeiye chief who
visited him and remained to dinner. The Doctor,
after regaling his guest with preserved apricots
and other dainties,-a fresh installment just re-
ceived from the coast,-inquired of him whether
the African country could boast any better food.
" Only white ants," was the prompt reply.
" Nothing is quite so good as white ants."
Palm-grubs and various kinds of slugs are eaten
nearly all over the East; as are bees, grasshop-
pers, and even spiders, in some localities,-not
because other food is scarce, but because people
like those queer-looking and queer-tasting dishes.
The Greeks of the olden time used to eat grass-
hoppers; and the Chinese occasionally convert
into dainty dishes for their tables, the chrysalis of
the silk-worm. The negroes of several of the
West India Islands eat butterflies and moths.
They catch the insects in large quantities by
means of nets, remove the wings, then dry and
smoke the bodies, and finally, after beating them
to a fine powder, pack away in jars to be used as a
relish during the Winter.
We read in the Bible, that the food of John the
Baptist was "locusts and wild honey." A great
deal of pains has been taken by commentators to
prove that it was not what we call locusts, but the
fruit of the wild carob-tree, that John ate with the
honey that he found in the wilderness where he
lived.
But I do not think that any one who has traveled
in Arabia, or found rest and shelter in an Arab's
tent, and been a guest at his hospitable board,
would thus judge of what the Bible means by
"locusts." In Turkey, Persia, Arabia, and all
that region of country, locusts-genuine, bond-fide
locusts-have been eaten from remote antiquity;
and to this day, they form an important item of
the food used by the common people. The
Bedouins collect them in immense quantities, and,
after a partial drying, pack them in sacks. Then
at their convenience, when the season for collecting


a875.1







SOME QUEER DISHES.


is over, they steam the insects in close vessels over
a hot fire, winnow them in broad baskets to
remove the legs and wings, and then pulverize
between flat stones. When wanted for food, they
are only moistened with a little water, just as the
Arabs do in preparing their date-flour, and then
the repast is all ready.
The Turks eat locusts in the same way, and by
very many other Orientals they are regarded as the
choicest of dainties.
The Moors boil or fry them, seasoning with salt,
pepper, and vinegar; and they pronounce them
even superior to quails and pigeons. The Hot-
tentots make from the eggs a delicious soup; they
also roast the locusts over a slow fire, and eat
them as we do caramels or bon-bons. Dr. Living-
stone says he used them at first from necessity,
when deprived of all other food; "but, strange to
say, grew daily more fond of them, and at last
preferred them to shrimps or oysters."
In Peter Martyn's account of the voyages of
Columbus, he alludes to the disgust of the Span-
iards when urged by the Indians at St. Domingo
to partake of their boasted delicacy, the guano.
The Spaniards mistook the odd-looking reptile for
a species of serpent, and hence rejected it with
horror; but, like many a tourist in the strange,
far-off lands of the East, they lived to change
their minds. Martyn says quaintly:
These serpentes are lyke unto crocodiles save
in bygness. Unto that daye, none of our men
durste adventure to taste them, by reason of there
horrible deformitie and loathsomeness. Yet the
Adalantado, being entyced by the pleasantness of
the King's sister, Anacaona, determined to taste
the serpentes. But when he felt the flesh thereof
to be so delicate to his tongue, he fel to amain,
without all feare. The which thyng his compan-
ions seeing, were not behind hym in greadynesse,
insomuche that they had now none other take
than of the sweetnesse of these serpentes, which
they affirme to be of more pleasant taste than
eyther our phesantes or partriches."
Of the delicious birds'-nest soup eaten in China,
everybody has heard, but everybody has not been
privileged to partake of that most delectable of all
Oriental dainties. The nests are formed of the
secretions of a species of swallow, called by natu-
ralists Hirundo esculenta, because their dwellings
are eaten. These birds are common on most
of the islands of the Indian Archipelagoes, but
their head-quarters are Sumatra, Java, and Bor-
neo. They build their nests over shelving rocks,
in places that would seem to be inaccessible to
man.
But such is the demand for this dainty, and
so high its market value, that hundreds of men


spend their whole lives in the perilous work of col-
lecting the nests from deep caverns, by torch-
light, and overhanging rocks, frightful cliffs, and.
precipices, such as make the head grow dizzy even
to think of, and whence the slightest loss of foot-
ing must prove fatal to the adventurer. Multi-
tudes of others are constantly employed in separat-
ing with delicate tweezers the feathers and other
impurities from the gelatinous portion of the nests,
and in washing and drying them in preparation for
the market.
The bird makes its first nest of a gelatine pro-
duced from its own body, without any foreign
admixture; but when deprived of this, being
unable to secrete a sufficient quantity of the gluten
for another, he mixes in the second a considerable
portion of sticks, feathers, and dried grass, thus
rendering the nest far less desirable for edible pur-
poses.
Again, however, the rapacious hunter, lying in
wait for his prey, turns out the homeless bird, and
bears off the prize ; and when, for the third time,
the little architect rears his home, it is composed al-
most entirely of stubble, with the slightest possible
admixture of gelatine.
This last nest being comparatively worthless for
food, the poor little builder is ordinarily allowed to
retain possession, and rears its family without far-
ther molestation. The nests are about the size of
a small tea-cup, and an eighth of an inch in thick-
ness, weighing scarcely half an ounce each.
The first nests collected are of a pure creamy
whiteness, and bring readily twice their own
weight in silver dollars. These require little
cleansing, only to be dried and packed; but the
second gathering must be carefully picked over,
and thoroughly washed. The nests thus losing
their original lusciousness, their market value is
proportionately diminished, and they sell for about
eighteen or twenty dollars per pound,-the poorest
as low as six or eight. Even the third nests are
occasionally taken, but they bring a mere trifle,
and are only used by those whose epicurean tastes
exceed the length of their purses.
Whole streets in Canton are occupied by the
preparers and venders of birds'-nests; and about
a million and a-half of dollars are annually ex-
pended by the Chinese in the purchase of this
dainty, which, when rendered into soup or jelly,
the Celestial regards as the most delectable of
food.
The nests are first soaked in water, then boiled
to a jelly, and finally, swimming in a rich gravy
composed of the expressed juice of the cocoanut,
with various spices and condiments, they are
placed on the table,-a rich, pulpy mass, and truly
delicious.


678


[SEPTEMBER,







679


SEWING.




SEWING.

BY LUELLA CLARK.


9k;.


Yb1


i"


Y-
01/
Ihi
-.


STITCH and stitch, my little maid,
Dainty apron, comely gown;
Neatly let each hem be laid,
Firmly fold the edges down.

Stitch and stitch, and dream and dream,
Push the needle through and through;
All along the lengthening seam
Stitch the happy fancies too.

Finely fashion every fold,
Deftly stitch the pocket in;
Weave the loop the hook to hold,
Leave no place for envious pin.

Crisp and dainty, spotless white,
Stitch the ruffle in its place,
While sweet thoughts and fancies bright
Come and go upon your face.


I, -. -


n i
-S~


Stretch the canvas clean and fair,
Wind your wools,-the task begin;
Trace your pretty pattern there,
Stitch and stitch and stitch it in.

Small and smaller grows the skein;
On the canvas blooms the rose;
In the busy little brain
Fast the airy. castle grows.

Braid the border straight and neat;
In and out the needle goes-
Leaf and bud and flower complete;
Still the stream of fancy flows.

Stitch and stitch oh, life is sweet!
Life is sweet and hope is strong;
Fancy free and fingers fleet,
Days can never be too long.


--- 1*k-


i
!







680


YOU must look out for the sheep, wife. These
warm days will bring the bears out of their dens.
They will be ravenous, and like as not they will
break into the yard and carry off some of the sheep.
I saw bear tracks up the mountain this morning."
"Well," said Mrs. Pope, "they need n't expect
to get any of our sheep. If they come prowling
round here, I'll drive them off in some way. We
need the sheep too much to have them carried off
by bears."
I wish you understood using the gun, wife.
When I am gone, I worry about leaving you and
the baby all day alone. The woods are so near, I
can't help thinking some wild animals may come
down from the mountains and attack you."
"You need n't fear about that," answered Mrs.
Pope. To be sure it is lonesome with neither
man nor dog about. I presume I should feel safer
if I understood handling a gun, but I don't believe
anything will come near in the day-time. So don't
worry about us, only be sure to get home before
dusk."
Well, good-bye, then. Don't expose the baby
or yourself to any danger, and I'11 be back before
night."
So saying, Mr. Pope, with a bag of grain on his
horse, started off to mill, leaving his wife and baby
alone in their solitary log cabin in the wilderness.
This conversation occurred in the town of Kirby,
Vermont, in the Spring of the year 1811, when
that region was but little settled, when even
women understood they were in constant peril
from wild beasts. Jesse Pope's cabin stood close
to the foot of the Kirby mountains, in whose rocky
fastnesses bears, catamounts and wolves had their
inaccessible dens. Bears, especially, were so thick
as to be a source of constant dread to those who
had flocks, or were compelled to leave their homes
unprotected, while they went to the larger settle-
ments on necessary business.
Mrs. Pope fully understood the peril that sur-
rounded her during her husband's absence. Her
cheerful talk with her husband was not mere
bravado. She said what she did, as much to keep
her own spirits up as to dispel her husband's
anxiety. She knew that he must go to the mill, and
there was no way for her but to stay at home and
be as brave as possible. She was a brave woman.
Nature had endowed her with courage, and the
surroundings of her early life had all tended to
foster and strengthen it. She fully understood


her situation, and when her husband passed out of
sight she knew she and her baby were alone in the
great wilderness, beyond the reach of help, should
anything serious occur. But she had always lived
in the wilderness. The howl of the wolf and the
growl of the bear were familiar sounds to her, and
she had become accustomed to a lonely life in the
woods. So, instead of shutting herself in the
house, she went on with her work as usual.
After the breakfast dishes were washed and put
away, she brought out her little "linen wheel"
and went to spinning flax. They must have
clothes for Summer wear, and that was the season
to spin and weave, before the Summer fully set in.
I can remember my mother and her spinning-
wheel, and I can imagine just how Mrs. Pope
looked, sitting with one foot on the treadle. I can
hear the buzz of the wheel as it flew round; I can
see just how often she dipped her fingers in the
little cup of water, as she drew out the fibers of
flax, and dexterously shaped the strong symmetri-
cal thread, in a manner that would astonish
modern housewives.
All the long forenoon her musical wheel kept
humming its pleasant tune, stopping only now and
then as its mistress either crowed to the baby in
the cradle, or looked out to see that no wild ani-
mals were prowling about. Noon came and went,
and nothing disturbed them. The baby in the
cradle went off to sleep, and she kept on with her
work. After a time she rose and looked out again.
This time she saw an astounding sight! Coming
down the mountain side from the woods, she beheld
a full-grown bear, not a hundred yards distant.
He was on his way to the yard where the sheep
were in fold, and she knew he was after the sheep.
She had a gun, but that would not avail anything,
for she had never learned to use it. She had an
axe, but she knew an axe to be a poor weapon to
fight a bear with. The next thing she thought of
was a pitchfork. Their few sheep were a treasure
to the family. All their Winter clothing was to
come from the sheep, and now that they were in
peril, she was aroused to instant action. The one
absorbing thought of saving the sheep banished
all sense of personal danger. Instead of shutting
herself up in the house she darted out and closed
the door after her lest anything should molest the
baby. Then running into the log barn, she
snatched up the pitchfork, ran around the barn,
and planted herself directly in the bear's path.


MRS. POPE AND THE BEAR.




MRS. POPE AND THE BEAR.

BY FRANKLIN B. GAGE.


[SEPTEMBER,







MRS. POPE AND THE BEAR.


Brandishing her pitchfork and screaming at him,
she attempted to scare him back to the woods.
But the bear was ravenous with hunger, and he
came straight down the hill at her, showing his


"SHE SNATCHED UP


teeth and growling fiercely. As he approached
and sprang toward her, Mrs. Pope dodged and
dealt him a blow, the iron ring of the fork striking
him exactly on the end of the nose. The shock
stunned the bear for an instant, and during that
one instant, with almost superhuman strength,


Mrs. Pope plunged both tines of the fork into the
bear's side, where she supposed the heart to be.
Either good fortune, or the hand of Providence,
directed the weapon, for one of the tines passed


clear through the bear's heart, and he fell over
dead, leaving her not only victorious, but un-
harmed. After the excitement of the contest was
over, Mrs. Pope went back to the house, shudder-
ing at the extremity of peril she had been in. But
after a time her nervousness passed off, and she


THE PITCHFORK AND PLANTED HERSELF DIRECTLY IN


s87s.]







A LONDON CHILD'S HOLIDAY.


went on with her work again, and so the afternoon
wore away.
At length, when the sun was about an hour
high, she saw her husband emerge from the woods
near the house. She left her spinning-wheel, and,
with the baby in her arms, met him at the door as
if nothing unusual had occurred.
As he came up to the door leading the horse
with one hand, and holding on the bag of flour
with the other, he spoke out:
"Well, wife, I am thankful nothing has hap-
pened to you while I was gone. I suppose it was
foolish, but I could n't help worrying all the time."
"I don't know as it was foolish, husband. But
hitch the horse, and bring the bag in. I want to
talk with you."
When the bag was deposited in the house, Mrs.
Pope said. "So you were nervous about us then ?"
"Yes. I don't remember ever being so nervous
before in all my life."
Well, husband, I was nervous too. I couldn't
help thinking what could I do, if a bear should
come down from the mountain after the sheep."
"Why, common sense would tell you what to do;
shut the door, take care of yourself and baby, and
let the sheep go."
Do you think so, husband ? "


Of course I do. What else could you have
done?"
You will see if you go out behind the barn and
look."
"Behind the barn What do you mean ? "
I mean what I say. Go and look behind the
barn."
Mr. Pope started out in the greatest wonder,
while the wife buried her face in the baby's apron,
to smother the womanly tears she could no longer
restrain.
To his utter astonishment Mr. Pope found the
dead bear behind the barn, with the pitchfork stick-
ing in its side.
When he went in and heard the whole story from
his wife, he fully realized that something had hap-
pened in his absence, and that he had more reason
than ever to be thankful.
I am indebted to the wife of James Harris, Esq.,
of St. Johnsbury, for this history of Mrs. Pope's
encounter with the bear. Mrs. Harris's father-
Rev. Timothy Locke-lived not far from Mr.
Pope's house at the time. Mrs. Harris still dis-
tinctly remembers seeing the bear's skin nailed on
the outside of the barn, where it remained all Sum-
mer, while Mrs. Pope became famous throughout
the neighborhood for her heroism.


A LONDON CHILD'S HOLIDAY.

BY WILLIAM H. RIDING.


THE poorer classes of London children are not
travelers as a rule, and their excursions do not
often extend farther than a few miles. A trip made
on one of the steamers that carry passengers a
short distance for a penny is considered an im-
portant and delightful outing, while a whole day's
sail is something never to be forgotten. A favorite
holiday journey is to Kew, where the finest botanic
gardens in England are situated, and when you
happen to be in London I should advise you to
make this trip, as it is a pleasure in itself, and will
also enable you to see how the children there enjoy
themselves.
The starting-point is at the London Bridge
which is so old in story and history. The Thames
here is shallow, black, sluggish and narrow. You
can almost throw a stone across it, and it is not
easy to think of it as the great stream about which
you have read so much. Large vessels cannot


ascend so far, as the water is not deep enough, but
you can see a forest of masts' in the extensive docks
lower down. The river steamboats are moored at
a little pier under one side of the bridge. They
are bits of side-wheelers, not much larger than the
tow-boats of America, and not much handsomer.
The only accommodations for passengers are a few
uncovered wooden benches on deck and a gloomy
little cabin below. They are built of iron and
painted black or gray. In shape-or in model, as
a sailor would say-they are pretty enough, and
they look as though they might be swift; but they
have no other element of beauty.
Comparisons between friends are odious, but I
really wonder what a young Londoner would think
were he to see one of our small river-boats on the
Thames-say the Sylvan Glen of the Harlem
line, or the Pomona" of the Staten Island line.
Perhaps he might imagine it to be a part of the


682


[SEPTEMBER,






A LONDON CHILD'S HOLIDAY.


Lord Mayor's show,-a pageant that occurs once a
year,-out of date. He certainly would not sup-
pose that a craft of such elegance could be intended
for the common traffic of a ferry.
You buy your tickets at an office on the pier, as
a warning bell hastens you on board. The captain
stands on a bridge between the paddle-boxes.
Underneath there is a small boy, with a very old-
fashioned face, who seems to be paying diligent
attention to nothing in particular. But at a motion
of the captain's hand, without lifting his eyes, he
drawls out to a man on the lower-deck, Ahead,
half-speed !" and you can feel the paddle-wheels
revolving. You expect to see some one boxing his
ears the next moment for misleading the engineer;
but he still sits on the grating of the boiler-
house, solemnly contemplating the knots in the
plank'. Again the captain raises his hand. "Full
spe-e-e-d !" the small boy screams, and the engine
goes faster at his command. By and by you begin
to understand that he belongs to the boat, and is a
substitute for a bell, and you cannot help admiring
the modesty with which he comports himself.
As the boat shoots under the arches and up the
river, the bridge comes into view-the busiest place
in all busy London. About eight thousand people
on foot and nine hundred vehicles pass over it
every hour in the day. The rumble of the traffic
as it comes to us on the boat is like the roll of dis-
tant thunder. I can compare it to nothing else,
trite as the simile is. In the background you can
see the Tower, in which offenders of the Govern-
ment were imprisoned in the barbarous times of
old; and Billingsgate, the largest fish-market in
the world. The dealers and their customers are
notorious for the use of bad language, and the word
" Billingsgate" is commonly accepted in writing
and conversation as meaning abuse or profanity.
The bridge has been rebuilt several times, and
the present one cost ten millions of dollars in gold;
so you may imagine how substantial it is. In the
reign of Queen Elizabeth there were stores on each
side, with arbors and gardens, and at the south end
there was a queer wooden house, brought from
Holland, which was covered with carving and gild-
ing. In the middle ages it was the scene of affrays
of all kinds, and it was burned down several times,
three thousand persons perishing in one fire alone.
The heads of rebels were stuck on the gate-houses,
among others those of Jack Cade, and of Garnet,
who was concerned in the gunpowder plot to blow
up the Houses of Parliament. The heads of good
Sir Thomas More, brave Wallace of Scotland, and
the pious Bishop of Rochester were also placed
there, and until a comparatively recent date such
ghastly trophies glanced down on the passers-by.
They were fastened on iron spikes, and in a gale


of wind they sometimes rolled to the ground or into.
the water.
Three hundred and fifteen years ago the Lord
Mayor of London was Sir William Hewet. Hewet
lived in a house on the bridge, and had an infant
daughter named Anne. The current of the
Thames was then very strong, as there was a fall
of several feet underneath the arches. One day a
nurse was playing with baby Anne at a window
overlooking the river, and in a careless moment
she let her little charge fall. A young apprentice
named Osborne plunged into the boiling stream
after her, and with great difficulty saved her, thus
earning the life-long gratitude of his master, the
Lord Mayor. Anne grew to be a beautiful woman,
and, as her father was very wealthy, many noble-
men, including earls and baronets, sought her
hand. But she loved Osborne the best, and to all
other suitors her father said: "No; Osborne won
her and Osborne shall have her." So he did, and
he afterward became the first Duke of Leeds.
Hogarth and other celebrated painters once lived
on London Bridge. Alexander Pope, the poet, and
Jonathan Swift, who wrote Gulliver's Travels,"
were often to be found at the store of a witty book-
seller in the Northern Gate; and a whole number
of ST. NICHOLAS might be filled with anecdotes
of the famous people who have been associated
with its history. But for us this glimpse must
be sufficient.
The little steamer moves slowly up the river, and
soon passes under another bridge. As you ap-
proach, you wonder how she will do it, as her-
smoke-stack-or funnel, as the English people call
it-is too high to allow her passage. The next
moment you see it thrown back on a line with the
deck, and a cloud of sulphurous smoke drifts from
its mouth among the ladies and children on the
seats at the stern. As soon as she is clear of the
bridge, it is raised again by some invisible ma-
chinery worked below. It is like the blade of a
penknife opening and shutting. You are a little
startled when you first see it coming down upon
you, but you are quickly re-assured by the uncon-
cern of the others, to whom it is no mystery. The
masts of the barges on the river are worked in the
same way. When a bridge is near, one of the
boatmen turns a crank and the mast is seen to fall
gradually back until it is parallel with the deck.
When the bridge is passed, the crank lifts it into
position again.
Most of these barges, by the by, are in striking
contrast with the surroundings of the river. They
are lavishly painted in the gaudiest colors-red,
yellow and green being a favorite combination;
and the cabin windows are usually draped with a
trim bit of muslin, which indicates the presence of







A LONDON CHILD'S HOLIDAY.


a woman. The other vessels, the small-boats and
the ferry-boats included, are black and dreary, and
on the southern side of the river a line of smoky
warehouses and a strip of black mud add to the
cheerlessness of the scene.
The steamer plods yet farther on, occasionally
stopping at a pier, where a few passengers are
landed and a few others received. The small boy
is closely attentive to the movements of the cap-
tain's hand the while, lustily calling Slow 'er "
or Stop-per as it is raised or lowered, and
never moving from his perch on the gratings of
the engine-room.
Not very long ago, the Thames between London
Bridge and Westminster was lined on both sides
with tumble-down old stores and houses, which
gave it a miserably shabby appearance. A won-
derful improvement is being made, however, in
the construction of an ornamental embankment of
stone, which is already completed for a distance of
about two miles. It has a fine road-way for vehi-
cles and a promenade for walkers, sheltered by an
avenue of trees; and when it is entirely finished,
it will be one of the finest public works in the
world. It is called the Victoria Embankment, in
honor of the Queen ; and at Chelsea, a part of
London at which we shall arrive by and by, there
is another similar embankment on the opposite
side of the river, which is called the Albert Em-
bankment, in honor of her husband, the good
Prince Consort, who died some years ago.
Near where the Victoria Embankment begins is
the Temple, with its beautiful gardens and old
brick houses and church. It was the residence of
the Knights Templars, who fought so valorously in
the Crusades against the infidels of the East.
They first came to England from Jerusalem in the
year II28, and they called themselves "Poor fel-
low-soldiers of Jesus Christ and of the Temple of
Solomon."
When out of battle, they lived the lives of
monks, and passed their time in prayer and self-
mortification. They were forbidden to talk aloud,
jest, or receive or write letters without the consent
of a master. When traveling, they were required
to lodge only with men of the best repute, and to
keep a light burning all night, "lest the dark
enemy, from whom God preserve us, should find
some opportunity."
In time these monkish knights grew rich, proud,
and corrupt, and eventually they were put down.
Their monastery then became-and it still remains
-a great residence for lawyers and literary men.
Among those who have occupied it are notable
people without number, including Congreve, the
old play-writer; Sir William Blackstone, who wrote
the best commentary on the English laws; Edmund


Burke, the brilliant orator; Dr. Samuel Johnson,
the dictionary-maker; Charles Lamb, the essayist;
Richard Brinsley Sheridan, the wittiest man of his
time, author of the School for Scandal;" and the
three poets Oliver Goldsmith, Thomas Moore, and
William Cowper.
These are only a few well-known names, which
I have selected at random, from the long list of
celebrities who have inhabited the Temple at
different times. I ought not to omit mention of
Butler, who lived here and who wrote Hudibras,"
nor of a pretty little fountain in the gardens, which
Charles Dickens beautifully described in Martin
Chuzzlewit."
The dome of St. Paul's Cathedral, one of the
noblest religious buildings in existence, is in view
about three miles behind, and we are fast nearing
Westminster. We pass under many bridges bf the
most varied design, some of them built of painted
and gilded iron, and others built of stone on solid
arches black with age and dirt. On both sides
there are thick clusters of houses and warehouses,
towering above which a palace or a public building
is occasionally seen. A pall of smoke floats above
all, and the sunlight is subdued and yellow.
The Houses of Parliament-the House of Com-
mons and the House of Lords-stand close by the
river at Westminster, with the Abbey in the rear.
Probably you will be more pleased with them than
with the other buildings that you have seen in
London. For, while they are large and imposing,
they have a sort of airy grace, which is produced
by numerous towers, spires, and abundant scroll-
work. To what can I compare them? They
seem so finely wrought that they might be woven
of lace instead of stone, and they realize all one's
ideas of a palace, even of a fairy palace. At night,
too, when the Parliament is in session and all the
windows stream forth light, they are still more
beautiful and still more inviting to the fancy. The
interior is also exquisitely grand; and this is the
great legislative hall where the Queen, the Lords
and Commoners meet in council to frame laws for
the people.
Westminster Abbey is a much older and nobler
building than the Houses of Parliament. Within
its walls rest the remains or monuments of all those
Englishmen who have distinguished themselves by
brave deeds in peace and war. Victory or West-
minster Abbey !" cried Lord Nelson in entering
one of his sea-fights, and he echoed a common
ambition. Burial in this sacred place is the highest
honor that can be paid to an Englishman, and it is
only allowed to the greatest. At one side there is
a small space called the Poets' Corner," contain-
ing the fresh grave of Charles Dickens. Silent
neighbors to him are the memorials or remains


684


SEPTEMBER,






A LONDON CHILD'S HOLIDAY.


of Chaucer, Spencer, Shakespeare, Camd
Jonson, Milton, Dryden, Addison, Hande
rick, Goldsmith, Sheridan, Macaulay, Th
Palmerston, and others no less famous in
and literature. Another part of the abbe
vided into ten chapels, within which rej
kings, queens and princes; and the trans
aisles also shelter illustrious dead.
The landings of the steamer are ma
scarcely a minute's delay. A plank is thr
tween the deck and the pier. Passengers


t.
M4t -i

:~D IF
.1 .


BN!I


THE THAMES STEAMBOAT.
board or ashore without hurry or confusion
ahead!" the small boy shouts, and we s
the stream again at full speed. This is on
things they manage better in London
America. People do not try to jump o
after the steamer has started, nor to jum
before she has arrived, and so there are
dents and delays.
Near Lambeth Bridge, on the southern
the river, there is a stone building which lo
like a castle and half like a fort, and
neither. It is Lambeth Palace, formerly
of confinement for heretics and now use
London residence of the Archbishop of Can
You are much disappointed with its app


en, Ben
el, Gar-
ackeray,
history
ey is di-
)ose the
epts and


no doubt; for palace is a grand and promising
word, exciting to the imagination. But this, like
the other palaces of London, is a very ordinary-
looking building, and you can scarcely decide
whether it is not as ugly as the Millbank Prison,
with its eight thousand criminals, on the opposite
side.


After Lambeth, the next stopping-place is Chel-
de with sea, where we change boats for Kew. A row of
own be- old-fashioned houses fronts the river, and one of
step on them is the home of the great writer, Thomas
Carlyle. The place is most famed,
however, for its buns, which are sold
at all the confectioneries in England.
_--_, They are not like other buns, and they
-- contain no currants. They are richer,
sweeter, softer, and altogether more
: palatable. You should see their color
S- too. It is bright yellow within, and a
Delicate brown without. In the center
fI of each there is a dainty bit of citron,
and the crust is generously sprinkled
S with sparkling grains of crystallized
-- sugar. As for myself, I have outgrown
-- my taste for confectionery, but I can-
not resist these superb Chelsea buns-
Sthey are so wholesome, and, withal, so
delicious.
We resume our voyage in another
steamer, different from the London
Bridge boat in name only. Another
small boy sits under the bridge to con-
vey the captain's orders to the engineer,
and he, like our old friend, is of a silent
S --- and retiring disposition. The wonder
S is that, though he is reading a story-
S-' paper all the while, he never misses a
-- movement of the captain's hand and
never fails to chirp Stop-per !" "Slow
------ *--' 'er !" as alertly as though his whole
mind was in his business. His bright
eyes seem centered on the paper, but
. "Go he has a corner, I suppose, reserved especially for
tart into the man on the bridge.
ie of the Our fellow-passengers are changed. Only two
than in or three of those who came with us on the first
n board boat remain. The others, including several little
p ashore Londoners in holiday dress, arrived at Chelsea
few acci- earlier, and were waiting. Some musicians, with a
violin, harp and flute, have also joined the com-


bank of
oks half
which is
a place
d as the
terbury.
earance,


pany, and strike up a lively tune as we approach a
more beautiful part of the Thames. For a short
distance the boat steams between two muddy
shores; then we see a green field, and, farther on,
some trees. Soon afterward we are in a lovely
country, beyond the smoke and toil of the city.
On the banks of the river, set back among the


685






THE CYCLOPS.


woods, are the villas of wealthy people, with pict-
uresque boat-houses and velvet-like lawns reaching
to the water's edge. Occasionally we hear the tap-
tap of a hammer, and pass a boat-builder's yard,
where some workmen are repairing a sharp-looking
scull. Next we come to Putney, the starting-point
in the annual boat-race between the Universities of
Cambridge and Oxford, which is celebrated the
world over, and attracts such a crowd of spectators
as can only be seen in London. Swift rowing-
boats, pulled by splendid fellows in fancily colored
dress, shoot by us, and yonder are two boys making
life happy in a tiny canoe.
Between Putney and Mortlake the river is given
almost entirely to aquatic sports. There are many
pretty boat-houses on the banks, with fleets of
cedar sculls before each. It was here that the
Americans from Harvard College were defeated in
a contest with the Oxford men; and here, too, ex-
citing swimming and rowing matches take place
nearly every day in Summer. The villages on the
route are composed of queer old houses built among
sweethrier and honeysuckle. The roofs are cov-
ered with warm red tiles, and the walls are white,
with lattice-work porches by the doors. Near


Hammersmith, one of the quaintest of these quaint
villages, Thomson wrote his poem,.the Seasons,"
and in the same neighborhood George Macdonald,
the novelist, has a home.
About three-quarters of an hour after our de-
parture from Chelsea we are landed at Kew. Close
to the pier there are tea-gardens without number,
each displaying a sign, "Tea for ninepence" and
" Hot water." It is in these tea-gardens that the
London children will end their holiday. Their
parents have brought heavy baskets filled with eat-
ables, and, when they have inspected the botanic
gardens, they will come here to feast. The land-
lord supplies hot water, chairs and tables, charging
twopence (or four cents) for each person; and the
visitors supply their own food. Of course all visitors
do not follow this plan. There are fashionable
hotels in Kew at which eight shillings (or two dol-
lars) are charged for dinner. But such people as
we saw on the boat-the mechanics with their
wives and children-will surely do so, and you
may be certain that they will enjoy themselves. In
the evening they will return to the city by the
third-class train, and will not have another holiday,
perhaps, for a year.


THE CYCLOPS.

BY MARY TREAT.


THE Cyclops is a tiny animal, very common,
found in all of our fresh-water ponds and stagnant
pools. It is about the sixteenth of an inch in
length, easily discernible to the naked eye. It be-
longs to the great class of animals called crustacea,
of which the lobster and crab are familiar examples.
The cnrstacea carry their bones outside of their
bodies. What a nice arrangement this is, to be
enveloped in a bony coat-of-mail! The crusta-
ceans ought to be a happy race of animals to have
their bodies so well protected against the dangers
which surround them. With us the order is re-
versed. Our bones are covered with flesh, and we
have to be very careful what we handle, and where
we step with our naked feet. But we are supposed
to know more than the crustaceans, and the more
we know the more difficulties are placed around
us, as if to try us, to see how much we can over-
come.
The Cyclops is an active, nimble creature, and
under the microscope looks very pretty. It has


two pairs of feathery antenna, and five pairs of
feet with tufts of plumose hairs set at each joint,
and a long tail terminating in bristles.
It has one eye set in the center of the fore-
head, like the wicked giants of mythology, after
whom our tiny Cyclops is named. This eye is a
marvel of skill and wonderful workmanship, far ex-
ceeding in elaborate construction the eye of insects.
It is composed of a number of simple eyes set on
a footstalk and placed under a shining, glassy
cornea, and a great many muscle-bands are at-
tached to this compound eye, so that the animal
can move it about in any direction. The footstalk
is movable on a hinge, so that the eye can be pro-
jected or withdrawn at pleasure; and when the
animal is tired of looking about, it can pack its eye
away in a little hollow prepared expressly for the
purpose.
I hope my readers will duly appreciate the por-
trait" of the Cyclops, for I exhausted a good deal
of patience and considerable time in catching the


686


SEPTEMBERR.







THE CYCLOPS.


active creature. For several months past I have
had a large colony of them in a vessel of water,
with growing plants, on my study-table; but, for all
that I can see, they are just as wild as when first
brought here. The other evening I undertook to
capture the original of this portrait, and such a
time as I had That large eye would roll about in


I~.


- 4


A _-








--_ .


"' ~ ..
'
y--












was a glass tube, about six inches in length. I
placed my finger firmly over the aperture on one
end, and now with the other end poised carefully
over her, I would raise my finger, and this would
bring a rush of water into the tube, fetching along


with it the animals that happened to be in the
vicinity; but the Cyclops did not happen to be one
of the animals caught. As quick as thought she
had rushed from danger. I repeated this several
times until my patience was gone, and now I
thought I would try the unscientific method of
using a tea-spoon; so I slipped the bowl of the
spoon under the Cyclops, and brought it up quick-
ly, and there she was in the spoon. I now trans-
ferred her to what we call a live-box. The fiame-
work of this box is composed of brass, and the
upper and lower surface is clear, beautiful glass,
and the box is so arranged that we can put on just
the right amount of pressure to hold our animal
without crushing it. I managed to get the Cyclops
fixed so as to show a side view; she was now ready
for the microscope, and her five pairs of beautiful
feathery feet stood out clear and distinct, but she
kicked and floundered about, and I had brought
all the pressure upon her that would do without
crushing her shell. She did not seem to have
any ambition to have her portrait appear in ST.
NICHOLAS in this position, so I raised the cover
slightly, and let her get on her feet; and now
bringing more gentle pressure upon her, she was
held perfectly quiet without injury; and this is
how she came to be taken with a back or dorsal
view.
The mother Cyclops carries her eggs with her in
two transparent bags, as you see in the cut, fast-
ened to each side of her tail-or rather slender ab-
domen. From this we should infer that she was a
very good mother, for she carries these two large
sacs of eggs wherever she goes, until the young
are hatched. But I am sorry to say that she is not
a good mother. She has a voracious appetite, and
seizes her own young and devours them just as
relentlessly as if they were no relation to her.
And she has a pugnacious disposition,-often
fighting with others of her species. Sometimes
she will seize a sister Cyclops by the tail, and away
they dash through the water, until they are
brought to a sudden stand by becoming entangled
among the water-plants ; here they flounder about
for a while, and very often another Cyclops will be
attracted by the melee, and she seizes the second
one by the tail, and now they dash through the
water again, three in line !


3875.-1







ABOUT TWO LITTLE BOYS.


ABOUT TWO LITTLE BOYS.

By K. A. M.


) c


Two little boys, all neat and clean,
Came down upon the shore;
They did not know old Ocean's ways-
They'd ne'er seen him before.


, I, Il ,


So quietly they sat them down,
To build a fort of sand;
Their backs were turned upon the sea,
Their faces toward the land.


688


[SEPTEMBER,


~ ~


IWjl~


' lll '.l'.l '1 '







BOCKO AND THE DEER.


fi


III,':1 I i'


I I. 1
''''I

I, I


They had just built a famous fort-
The handkerchief flag was spread-
When up there came a stealthy wave,
And turned them heels over head.








BOCKO AND THE DEER.

BY PAUL FORT.


BOCKO was a dog. He had several brothers
and sisters, and they were all little chunky dogs
like himself. But they had high opinions of
themselves. Bocko was the largest, and the rest
looked up to him, although, to be sure, that was
not much trouble, as they did not have to look
very high. One reason why they thought so much
of their big brother was, that he was always talk-
ing of the great things he had done, and the great
things he intended to do.
One day, the family was out of meat. The
mother-dog proposed to send the children out to a
neighboring town to prowl about the market and
bring home what they could pick up.
But Bocko opposed this plan. I am tired of
bits and bones," he said. There is no reason
why we should not have the very best meat. We
have gone on in this poor way long enough.
VOL. II.-45.


Now, my idea is this: You all stay at home and
take a nap, and make yourselves as comfortable as
you can, and I will go hunting. I will go into the
forest and kill a deer. Then we can have the very
best meat, and all we want of it. A whole deer
will last a long time."
Oh, that will be delightful cried his sisters.
" But do you think you can kill a deer ? "
Kill one cried Bocko. I should think so.
Do you see those teeth ? "
Oh, yes said his sisters and the small
brother; they 're perfectly awful when you open
your mouth that way."
"And do you see that leg, and this one, and the
two others? Did you ever see stronger looking
legs than they are ? You can feel my muscle, if
you like."
The sisters and the small brother felt his mus-


689


II ,








690 BOCKO AND THE DEER. [SEPTEMBER,


cle, and declared that with such teeth and such
legs he ought to be able to kill a deer. And the
more he talked and they listened, the more certain
they felt about it.
So they agreed to stay at home and take a nap
while he was out hunting. The old mother did
not altogether approve of the plan, but Bocko
seemed so confident about the matter, that she
thought she would let him go.
So off went Bocko to the forest as fast as his
short legs would carry him. He had rather better
fortune than most hunters, for it was not long
before he saw a very fine deer coming leisurely
down a path in the woods.
Bocko immediately ran toward it. The deer
looked at him, and then stopped. So did Bocko.
Well? said the deer.
Bocko did not make any answer. He did not
think it proper to talk to animals that he was
hunting. But he did not know exactly what to do
first. He had never hunted a deer before. So he
thought he had better bark a little. That came
natural to him. So he ran close up to the deer
and barked.
The deer put down his head, and then he said:
"What are you going to do? You're a very
uncivil creature."
"No, I'm not uncivil," replied Bocko, who
thought that he must answer this time. I came
out hunting, and not to talk. I am going to take
a deer home for my family to eat."
And you think of taking me ?" said the deer.
Yes," said Bocko.
The deer gave a grin. Perhaps it was not a real
grin, but it looked like one.
This made Bocko angry, and. he ran close up to
the deer and tried to bite one of his fore-legs.
Look here said the deer, stepping back,
if you bite my legs I will give you a kick that
you '11 remember to the day of your death "
"Well, then, what am I to do?" exclaimed
poor Bocko. I suppose I ought to take you by
the throat, but I can't reach up."
"You'd like me to lie down, would n't you?"
asked the deer.
"Yes," said Bocko, promptly.
"Well, you are cool! replied the deer.
Bocko had nothing to say to this; so he gave
another sharp bark, so as to let the deer know
that he still intended to press the matter, and then
ran around to see if he could not get a bite at the
deer's tail. But the tail was very short and very
high up, and there was no chance there.
Then Bocko felt provoked, and he ran in front
of the deer again.


"You're afraid to put your head down," said he.
"Am I ?" answered the deer; and he put his
head down so low that his nose went between his
fore-feet. This was not exactly the position that
Bocko wished him to take, but he was ashamed to
ask for anything more; and so he made a rush at
the deer to take him by the throat.
The deer turned around so as to keep his fore-
head toward the dog, and the moment Bocko
came near enough, he stepped forward quickly,
pushed his horns under him, and gave him a
tremendous toss that sent him spinning into the
middle of a great barberry-bush, several yards
away.
For a minute or two, Bocko did not know what
had happened to him; but as soon as he began to
gather his senses about him, he cautiously peeped
out of the bush. He saw the deer trotting slowly
away.
He's laughing thought Bocko to himself,
and then he crawled out of the bush. He exam-
ined his body and his valuable legs, and finding
that nothing was broken, he concluded to give up
hunting for that day, and to go home.
When his sisters and his small brother and his
mother saw him coming, they all rushed out to
meet him.
"Oh! where is the deer?" they cried. "We
are so hungry! Did you leave it in the forest?
Show us where it is, and we will all go get some of
it. Come, brave Bocko, where is it ? "
Bocko stood silently, his tail going farther and
farther between his legs.
"What's the matter? cried his mother.
"Can't you speak? Where is the deer? Did
you see one ? "
Yes," said Bocko, in a low voice.
And did n't kill it ? "
No," said Bocko; he would n't let me."
What a chorus of disappointment and disgust
greeted this announcement!

Bow-wow! Bow-wow WOW! WOW! Bow-
wow! iMo&-MOg Wow-wow! Wow!! Bow!bow!
wow-wow! BOW! ioga "k o Bow! wow-
wow-WOW o

Bocko did not wait to hear any more. He
was sneaking away, when his mother took him by
the ear and led him aside, out of the noise.
"Bocko," said she, "it's bad enough to boast
about things you have done, but it's ever so much
worse to boast of what you are going to do. Do
you think you will remember that ?"
I do," said Bocko.


69o


[SEPTEMBER,


BOCKO AND THE DEER.






AS WE GO ALONG.



AS WE GO ALONG.

BY MARY C. BARTLETT.


.- -'i ICK and Dora were traveling West-
-'*. ward. It was before the days (the
n' ights, rather) of sleeping-cars; and
o:_a being determined to go straight
through," as Dick said at starting,
'. they were not a little fatigued when
'I .the darkness of the second night
11I gathered about them.
'* But, though fatigued, they were
v by no means out of sorts. They
were thoroughly posted as to the changes of their
journey; they knew they were right; all that they
desired was to proceed as rapidly as possible.
Dora looked smilingly around upon the drowsy
passengers.
Do see that old lady, Dick," said she, with a
smothered laugh. Her head bobs about like the
tail of Ned's kite. There! 1she's down at last.
No, she is n't, either. Oh "
Here the old lady in question straightened her-
self and looked severely around, as if to reprove all
who had even suspected her of an inclination to
slumber. Happening to glance toward our young
friends, she encountered two pairs of bright eyes.
The eyes tried to be polite, but they could not help
being truthful. They seemed to say: "We did
laugh. We could not help it. We cannot help it
now. "
The old lady could not help it either. Such a
hearty, cosey little laugh as it was, all round, when
she had set the example !
Lucky for us old people that our necks are in-
sured," said she, cheerily; and lucky for us that
we can't see ourselves as others see us. Heads
bobbing about like the tail of Ned's kite, eh "
0, I beg your pardon," said Dora, with crim-
son cheeks. I did n't know you heard."
Don't worry yourself in the least, my dear.
I 'm going to try it again. If you can get any fun
out of this poor old head, you're heartily welcome
to it, I 'm sure. You '11 need all you can get before
morning-I can tell you that."
"We shall soon be 'bobbing around, around,
around' ourselves," laughed Dick.
So you will. Wish I could keep awake to
see; but I can't. Good-night to you. Pleasant
dreams."
Dora arose from her seat, and walked toward the
old lady, taking her long shawl with her.
Mother would make me bring this," said she,
ignoring the deprecating gesture. I don't know


why, I'm sure, for we have my water-proof and
Dick's overcoat beside. It will make a capital pil-
low for you. Wont you let me arrange it ?"
The old lady demurred, but Dora insisted, and
soon had the satisfaction of seeing the gray head
no longer bobbing and bowing, but reposing peace-
fully and quietly.
She 's sound asleep now," she said thankfully
to Dick. "And she would n't be ashamed to own
it, either."
At this moment, the sound of the whistle an-
nounced that they were near a station, and soon
afterward there was the hurry and bustle of depart-
ures and arrivals.
Among the latter was a plainly dressed woman,
who carried upon one arm a heavy traveling-bag,
and upon the other a baby who was screaming at
the top of its little voice.
Dear me yawned Dora. I was just think-
ing of taking a nap. How provoking "
If I'm ever old enough to vote, I'll go for a
law to make the women keep their babies at home,"
said Dick, savagely.
"What a public-spirited, benevolent man he
will be laughed Dora, pretending to smooth the
wrinkles in his forehead with her plump hand.
Nonsense But do hear that rascally baby !"
I think he's sick," said Dora, compassionately.
It's a girl, and she's no more sick than you
are. I wish you'd go over and inquire how long
she intends to keep up that screeching, because a
fellow can't "
Dora did n't wait for him to finish the sentence.
To his intense surprise, she arose and walked down
the aisle as steadily as was possible.
Dick watched her anxiously as she talked with
the baby's mother. Once or twice, as he caught
her eye, he beckoned eagerly, imploring her with
frantic gestures to return, but Dora paid no heed.
When, at last, she turned to come back, he saw, to
his infinite horror, that she was bringing the "ras-
cally baby" with her.
He was really angry now, and he took no pains
to conceal it.
If that baby's going to stay here, I'm not,"
said he crossly, wrapping his overcoat about him.
Where are you going? "
Into another car. I'll find you in the morn-
ing. Good-night."
He would have been off, but Dora laid a coaxing
hand upon his shoulder.







AS WE GO ALONG.


Just wait a minute, Dick; I want to tell you
something. I thought I'd take the baby awhile,
because the mother has a dreadful headache,
and --"
No wonder," interrupted Dick, making a hid-
eous face at the screaming child.
Listen to me. This baby has n't had a thing
to eat since four o'clock."
Why in the world don't you give it something,
then ? cried Dick, making a furious dive for the
lunch-basket.
What a goose you are, Dick Don't you see
that she has n't a tooth in her head? What she
wants is milk, with a little warm water in it, and
sugar enough to sweeten it just a little. That's all
she eats."
Who told you so much ? "
"Her mother."
I knew 't was a girl the minute I heard her
voice. I told you so," said Dick, a slight shade of
triumph mingling with his vexation.
They've been traveling two days," continued
Dora, ignoring Dick's last remark, "and the mother
tried to get some milk at C- She gave her
bottle to one of the table-girls there, but the cars
would n't wait until she'd filled it "
"Of course not," growled Dick. "Just like a
woman, expecting a whole train of cars to stop for
a bottle of milk."
So she had to come on without it. And oh,
Dick wont you try to get just a little at the next
stopping-place ?"
Me?" inquired Dick, in amazement.
"You can take our mug. The-bottle's lost,
you know. She'll have to do the best she can
with this."
Me! repeated Dick, incredulously.
Yes, you. Don't you know what Aunt Ruth
says about doing good as we go along? We can
pretend we 're missionaries--ome missionaries,
you know."
"Well, give me the mug. Anything to stop
this noise i "
The cars stopped. Dick rushed out, mug in
hand. Stopping the first man he met in the sta-
tion, he made his modest request:
Here Fill this, please."
What with ?"
Milk, with a little warm water, and just sweet-
ening enough to sugar it. The baby's starving.
Iost its bottle at C- Has n't had a thing to
eat-drink, I mean-for hours."
We have n't a drop," replied the man. I'm
sorry, but you come too late."
"Could n't come any sooner," replied Dick;
and I must have it. Be quick, please, or I shall
be late."


No danger of that," said another man, re-assur-
ingly; they wait fifteen minutes here. Give me
the cup, and I'll go over to Joe Fellerses. His
baby's sick since Tuesday, and it's likely they '11
be up messin'. I reckon they'll have a drop or
two to spare."
It was not without misgiving that Dick gave.
Dora's pretty mug into the stranger's hand.
If it's gone, it's gone," he thought to himself.
'" It can't be helped, and there's no use in worry-
ing."
So he contented himself with looking after the
man as long as he could see him, and resolved
to wait as patiently as possible until the signal
sounded.
How old is your baby?" asked one of the men.
O; I don't know. It's a very young one."
Ever traveled with it before ? asked the man,
curiously.
"No, indeed! replied Dick, with flushing
cheeks. Its mother's in the car."
Take my advice, and leave it at home next
time. Travelin' never agrees with these little fel-
lers."
Dick's eyes fairly blazed. 'T is n't mine he
roared savagely. Then, suddenly remembering
how kindly these men had interested themselves in
his behalf, he added, more gently: "Its mother
had a headache, so I came."
Just then, Dick's rejoicing eyes spied the man
who had taken the mug, coming quickly toward
him.
Here 's your cup, youngster," said he. "Joe
Fellerses' wife would n't use it. Here 's a bottle
that '11 just fit a baby's mouth-it's one her John-
ny's outgrowed. She's glad enough to help all
the babies along, for the sake of that poor little
man of her 'n."
I'm very much obliged," said Dick, heartily
ashamed of his late misgivings, and fumbling in
his pocket for some change.
"Bless your soul, ;she don't want any pay.
Don't stop for that. If that little feller of yours is
as hungry as you make out, the sooner you get
back to him the better."
Dick thought so too. He was hurrying from
the station when a woman entered, accompanied
by a girl apparently about thirteen years old. He
would have rushed past them, but the woman
spoke:
Goin' on this train ? "
Yes."
How fur?"
To L-," replied Dick.
"There's just where this child wants to go.
Now, could n't you just look after her a little?
She wont be no trouble."


[SEPTEMBER,







AS WE GO ALONG. 093


Dick looked at the "child." He saw an awk-
ward, ungainly figure, clad in garments of coarse
texture, and queer, unblending hues. He saw a
pale, thin face, in which a pair of sore eyes seemed
to be the fearfully prominent features. They were
not pleasant to look upon. He shivered.
She 's goin' there to be doctored," continued
the woman. "You see, her aunt, she lives in
L--, and she thinks her doctor can help her eyes.
I can't go with her, and she's an awful scarey
child-'fraid of her shadder. Her aunt '11 meet
her at the depot; but if you '11 just let her sit
somewhere nigh you, and speak a word to her now
and then on the way-- "
What if I had such eyes as those thought
Dick. "I'11 do it," said he aloud, grasping his
bottle a little tighter. She can come along with
me. We must hurry up. There's the bell."
Good-bye, Marietta," called the woman, as
they left the station. Be a good girl; There 's
nothing to be afeard of. Remember that!"
Dick found Dora anxiously awaiting him.
Where have you been ? and where did you get
this ? she cried, seizing the bottle and putting it
to the lips of the poor, tired baby, who drank
eagerly.
Joe Fellerses' wife sent it to you with her com-
pliments."
"She's a good woman, whoever she is," said
Dora, earnestly; "but --" (dropping her voice)
"who on earth have you there, Dick?" as he
motioned to the girl to take a seat just behind
them.
That !" replied Dick carelessly, in a low tone.
"That's Marietta."
"Who's Marietta ?"
Our new fellow-passenger."
What's the matter with her eyes? "
"They're sore."
I should think so, poor thing. Where did you
pick her up ?"
"At the station. She's going to I- with
us. We're to take care of her."
"O-h groaned Dora.
"Don't you know what Aunt Ruth says about
doing good as we go along?" inquired Dick,
calmly.
But such a large girl! Can't she take care of
Herselff"
She's timid-afraid of her sadderr"
She wont be likely to see her sadder here."
"We can pretend we're missionaries--home
missionaries," said Dick, cheerfully.
I should prefer a good, wholesome-looking
heathen for a traveling-companion," sighed Dora.
"We can't have everything to please us," said
Dick, pompously. How quiet that child is "


Of course she is. All she wanted was some-
thing to eat. See she's almost asleep-the little
darling!"
You must have been cut out for a missionary,"
laughed Dick. Your little heathen does you
credit."
"That's more than I can say for yours," re-
torted Dora, glancing over her shoulder at the new
passenger.
The poor girl was sitting with her back to the
light, shading her eyes with one slender hand.
Dora turned quickly. Dick Wilson she ex-
claimed. "Take this baby, please. I 'm going to
talk with Marietta."
Well, put her down easy, so that a fellow can
get a good hold."
Don't you go to sleep and drop her," was
Dora's parting injunction.
She took the seat behind Marietta, that the poor
weak eyes might not encounter the glare of the
blazing lamp. She spoke kindly to her, asking her
a few questions, in such a tone of interest, that the
girl's shyness melted away at last, and she became
communicative.
What Dora learned of her circumstances she
told Dick early the next morning, almost with tear-
ful eyes.
She wants so much to go to school, Dick, but
she can't. She can't read or sew, and she has to
wear blue glasses when the sun is very bright."
She sleeps well," replied Dick, who pitied the
poor girl from the bottom of his heart, but did n't
know how to say so.
"I'm so glad she's with us, Dick, because, you
see, people don't always take pains to speak to girls
when they look disagreeably."
So am I."
Was n't it strange that neither of us knew
when the baby's mother came and took her ?"
I dreamed that somebody was h:,-,l:;, me for
something. That's all I knew about it."
They 're both asleep now," yawned Dora, look-
ing toward them; "and so is our old lady. Do
you know, Dick, I 'm almost sorry the daylight's
coming,-I 'm-so -- "
Dick never heard the rest of that sentence, but
he rather thought the word was sleepy."
They were both bright and wide awake, how-
ever, when, a few hours afterward, the cars reached
L--
The old lady bade them good-bye with a hearty
God bless you The weary mother smiled her
thanks, and the baby put out her little hands be-
seechingly to Dick as he passed. Friends were
waiting for them at the depot; but, even in the
first cordial greetings, they did not forget their un-
fortunate companion.






[SEPTEMBER,


4 FAIRY UMBRELLAS.


Her aunt is n't here," said Dora, anxiously. Marietta, who gave them a grateful smile as she
"Yes, she is," cried Dick. There she comes disappeared from view. And then, tired and
round that corner. She sees her." hungry as bears, but for-some reason or other feel-
And they shouted a cheerful" good-bye" to poor ing very happy, they hurried away.



















.- F


FAIRY UMBRELLAS.

BY C. A. D.

THREE fairy umbrellas came up to-day,
Under the pine-tree just over the way;

And since we have had a terrible rain,
The reason they came is made very plain.

This eve is the fairies' Midsummer ball,
And drops from the pine-tree on them may fall;

So dainty umbrellas wait for them here,
And under their shelter they '11 dance without fear.

And as you may chance in Summer to meet
These odd little canopies under your feet,

Take care where you step, nor crush them, I pray,
For fear you will frighten the fairies away.







695


THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.



THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.

BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE.


CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE STRANGE CLOUD.
JACK'S call on the Peakslows was brief and un-
satisfactory. He returned to the Castle" with
out his compass, and looking flushed and disturbed.
I did n't accuse Zeph of stealing," said Jack,
fearful of being blamed by Vinnie. They were
at supper; and I just said, 'Zeph, my boy, what
did you do with my compass?' He denied hav-
ing touched it. I explained. Great commotion.
Mamma Peakslow looked frightened out of her
wits, and papa blazed away at me like a seventy-
four-gun ship. In short, you will have to wait for
your noon-mark, Mrs. Betterson. So will Mrs.
Peakslow. I did n't tell her I was going to make
her one, if Zeph had n't stolen my compass."
But you don't know he stole it," said Vinnie.
"We don't know that he and Dud put rubbish
in our spring," Rufe made answer for Jack, "" and
yet we know it as well as we know anything we
don't know."
I can't tell what I was thinking of," said Jack,
"to leave any property of mine unguarded, within
reach of the Peakslows. Lion was up in the woods
with me before I knew it."
Where are you going now ? Vinnie asked.
"To look for my compass in the bushes. Zeph
must have hid it somewhere, for he didn't have it
when we saw him."
Wait till after supper, and I will go with you,"
said Rufe. Father is here now."
Mr. Betterson was coming up from the stable,
accompanied by Radcliff. Rad had trusted to way-
lay him, and make a last appeal for the money
which he knew Jack was waiting to receive. He
talked and gesticulated earnestly; but Lord shook
his head and compressed his lips with great firm-
ness, whereupon Rad, instead of coming to supper
with the rest, wandered sulkily away.
When Mr. Betterson had washed his hands and
face, and brushed his hair, and put on his thread-
bare black coat and frayed stock, the family sat
down at the table. Jack waited unwillingly, and
soon excused himself, saying he must look for his
compass before dark.
I '11 attend to our truckman's little matter when
I come back," he said, and hastened away.
Link jumped up from the table and went with
him; Rufe and Wad promising to follow as soon
as they were through with their supper.


Careful search was made all about the road-side
bushes where the wagon had been partially con-
cealed when the compass was taken. Lion was also
set to hunt. But all in vain. Some faint foot-
prints were found, but Jack could not be sure that
they were not either his own or Rufe's.
Lion don't know what we are looking for; he 's
after rabbits," said Link. Was this all the com-
pass you had ?"
The only surveyor's compass; and the worst
of it is, 't was a borrowed one. It belongs to Forrest
Felton. He has a theodolite which we use for fine
work; and I 've a little pocket compass, given me
by an old lady a few years ago. I would n't have
lost this for twice its value-it's a most exasperat-
ing trick!" Jack muttered. "And now it is sud-
denly growing dark."
It was very suddenly growing very dark. A
strange cloud was blacking the sunset sky.
"Did you ever see anything so funny?" said
Link.
It is like the lower half of an immense balloon,
the top spreading out," said Jack. See that long,
hanging, pear-shaped end! "
"I wonder if the folks at the house see it!"
Link exclaimed, growing excited. It looks like
an elephant's trunk By sixty, it's growing "
"It's moving this way," said Jack. Fast, too !
and roaring-hear it ? There's an awful storm
coming! "
"Oh!" cried Link, "see the lightning-forks!
It will be here in a jiffy."
The elephant's trunk," which had seemed to
be feeling its way up the valley, now swung toward
the line of timber; the roar which accompanied it
became deafening; and suddenly, the cloud, and
all the air about it, seemed filled with whirling and
flying objects, like the broken boughs and limbs of
trees.
It was like some living monster, vast, super-
natural, rushing through the sky, and tearing and
trampling the earth with fury. The mysterious
swinging movement, the uproar, the gloom, the
lightning, were appalling. And now Lion set up
a fearful, ominous howl.
"A whirlwind!" Jack exclaimed, shrieking to
make himself heard. I must go to my horse."
Let's put for the house! Link yelled.
But hardly had they reached the road when the
storm was upon them.
Shortly after Jack and Link had left the table,






THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


Lord Betterson gave Rufus a small key, and told
him to bring a certain pocket-book from the till of
the family chest in the next room.
We will have our friend's eighty dollars ready
for him, against his return," Lord said; and, count-
ing out the money, he placed it under the pocket-
l1ook, beside his plate.
Rufe and Wad were now ready to go and help
Jack search for his compass; but a discussion which
had been going on at intervals, ever since the draft
came, was now renewed, and they stopped to take
part in it.
"If I am going to get out to divine service
again, I must have a silk dress," said Caroline.
"And, Mr. Betterson, you need a new suit; and
you know-we all know-nothing becomes you but
broadcloth, and the finest broadcloth. What do
you think, Lavinia dear?"
I am sure broadcloth is becoming to him,"
Vinnie replied, quietly. And I should like to see
you come out in silk. And Cecie and Lilian need
new things. But-how much of the two hundred
and fifty dollars is left, Mr. Betterson?"
Deducting Radcliff's share, one hundred and
twenty odd dollars," said Lord, touching the pocket-
book by his plate.
One hundred and twenty dollars will go but a
little way, in a family where so many things are
absolutely needed! said Vinnie. "It seems to
me I should want to get this room and your room
plastered, the first thing-merely for comfort, in
the cold weather that is coming."
"And carpeted, Lavinia dear," simpered Caro-
line.
"And if the house is ever to be painted," spoke
up Rufe, "it must be done soon. It wont be
worth painting if it is neglected much longer."
And we need so many things in the kitchen!"
said Lill. "Vinnie knows it, but she wont say
anything."
And lots of things on the farm," said Wad.
"If Rufe and I are going to do anything, we must
have conveniences. The idea of having such a
house as this, and nothing but a miserable log-barn
and stable "
We can't build a new barn for a hundred and
twenty dollars," said Mr. Betterson. And we
can't buy farming tools, and kitchen utensils, and
carpets, and silk, and broadcloth, and tea and
sugar, and clothing for the children, and paint and
plaster the house, all with so limited a sum. The
question then arises, just what shall we do with the
money ?"
O, dear just a little money like that is only an
aggravation!" Caroline sighed, discouraged. "And
I had hoped some of it would be left for Lavinia
dear; she deserves it if anybody does."


never mind me," Vinnie replied. How-
ever, if I might suggest-- "
But the family had been so long deciding this
question, that Fortune seemed now to take it out of
their hands, and decide it for them.
It suddenly grew dark, and an outcry from the
boys interrupted Vinnie. The tornado was coming.
All rose, save Cecie,-who remained seated where
she had been placed at the table,-and pressed to
the door and windows.
The baby wakened in the next room, and began
to cry, and Caroline went to take it up. The boys
rushed out of the house. Vinnie turned pale and
asked Where are they? Jack and Link! "
As well off as they would be here, probably,"
replied Lord Betterson. Shut doors and windows
fast. That horse should have been taken care of."
"Jack would n't let us put him up. I'll do it
now," cried Rufe.
But he had hardly begun to undo the halter,
when he saw the utter impossibility of getting the
horse to the stable before the storm would be
upon them. So, to prevent Snowfoot breaking
away, and dashing the buggy to pieces, he deter-
mined to leave him tied to the tree, and stand by
his head, until the first whirl or rush should have
passed. This he attempted to do; and patted and
encouraged the snorting, terrified animal, till he
was himself flung by the first buffet of the hurri-
cane back against the pillar of the porch, where he
clung.
Oh! what is that? screamed Lill, watching
with Vinnie, from the window.
Some huge, unwieldy object had risen and rolled
for an instant in the dim air, over Peakslow's house,
then disappeared as suddenly.
At the same time Jack and Link appeared, half
running, half blown by the tempest up the road.
Vinnie watched them from the window, and saw
the enormous sloping pillar of dust and leaves, and
torn boughs, whirling above their heads, and over-
whelming everything in its roaring cloud.
The last she remembered was Jack and Link
darting by the corner of the house, and Snowfoot
tugging at his halter. Then a strange electric
thrill shot through her, the house shook with a
great crash, and all was dark.

CHAPTER XXXV.
PEAKSLOW-IN A TIGHT PLACE.
THE storm could not have been two minutes in
passing. Then it suddenly grew light, the tem-
pest lulled, the heavens cleared, and in not more
than ten minutes the sunset sky was smiling again,
a sea of tranquil gold, over the Western woods.
Fortunately, only the skirt of the storm had


696


[SEPTEMBER,






THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


swept over Betterson's house, doing no very seri-
ous damage.
When Vinnie looked again from the window,
she saw Snowfoot, still tied by the halter, standing
with drooping head and tail, wet with rain. Jack,
hat in hand, his hair wildly tumbled, was already
at the horse's head, laughing excitedly, and look-
ing back at Rufe and Link, who were coming to
his side. The buggy, he noticed, had been whirl-


We are all right, I guess," cried Rufe. Wad
put for the barn, to make room for the horse and
buggy, but I did n't have time to get there. I
don't know where Rad is."
Wad now appeared; and at the same time the
cattle, started homeward by the storm, came can-
tering down the woodland road, with the rattling
cow-bell, and ran for refuge to the barn-yard.
The big oak behind the house, there,-have


ed half way round by the wind, so that the rear you seen it?" cried Wad. "It 's twisted off.


end was turned toward the porch.
Through it all, Lill had clung in terror to Vin-
nie, whose arms were still about her. Cecie sat
in her chair by the supper-table, white and speech-
less, from the electric shock which all had felt, and
she more sensibly than the rest. Caroline was in
the next room with the child, whose cries, for a
while drowned in the terrible uproar, now broke
forth again, strenuous and shrill.
Mr. Betterson, holding the frightened Chokie,
opened the door, and calmly asked the boys if
they were hurt.


And where's the well-curb? "
That flew to pieces, and the boards went up
into the air like kites,-I saw them," said Link.
" Where's the dog?"
"He's in the bushes, or under a log some-
where," Jack replied. "He was shot at once,
with a gun held close to his head,-luckily, there
was no lead in it. For a long time he was afraid
of a gun; and thunder, or any big noise, frightens
him even now."
Some of our fences look pretty flat,-rails tum-
bled every which-way said Rufe. "A good


2875.]







THE YOUNG


SURVEYOR.


deal of damage must have been done south
of us."
Something looks odd over there toward Peak-
slow's,-what is it ? cried Link.
Some of the tree-tops by the road have been
lopped off," replied Jack.
That is n't all," said Lord Betterson. Sure
as fate, something has happened to Peakslow's
buildings."
That is what I saw Vinnie exclaimed.
Something turned over in the air like the roof
of a house."
I thought just now I heard cries in that direc-
tion," said Jack. Hark a moment "
There comes somebody," said Rufe, as a girl
of twelve years, barefoot, bonnetless, wild with
fright, came running up the road. It's 'Lecty
Ann "
Out of breath, almost out of her wits, the girl
ran as far as the door-yard fence, then stopped, as
if unable or afraid to go farther, caught hold of the
pickets, and, putting her pale face between them,
gasped out something which nobody could under-
stand.
What is it ?-what's the matter?" cried Jack,
advancing toward her.
House-blowed down-covered up was all
she could articulate.
$' Who is covered up ? "
"Don't know some of the folks Pa, I
guess."
Jack did not stop to hear more; but, fired with
a generous impulse to aid the unfortunate, who-
ever they might be, gave one backward look,
threw up his hand as a signal, shouted Help,
boys ran to a length of fence which the wind
had thrown down, bounded over like a deer, and
was off.
Vinnie followed; but was soon overtaken by
Mr. Betterson and the boys, who passed her, as
if running a race. Then she heard screams
behind; and there was Chokie, sprawling over the
prostrate fence, which he had rashly taken, in his
eagerness to keep up with Lill.
By the time Chokie was extricated, Mrs. Better-
son appeared, babe in arms, tottering out of the
door, and hastening, in the excitement of the mo-
ment, to learn what dreadful catastrophe had over-
taken their neighbors.
"Stay with Arthur and your mother," Vinnie
said to Lill; "lmay do something to help." And
away she sped.
'Lecty Ann, met by Mrs. Betterson at the gate,
was now able to tell more of her story; and so
strange, so tragical it seemed, that Caroline forgot
all about her ill-health, the baby in her arms, and
Cecie left alone in the house, and brought up the


rear of the little procession,-Lill and 'Lecty Ann
and Chokie preceding her down the road.
They had not gone far, when Lion came out of
the woods, with downcast ears and tail, ashamed
of his recent cowardly conduct. And so, accom-
panied by the dog and the children,-Lill lugging
the baby at last,-Caroline approached the scene
of the disaster.
The whole force of the tornado seemed to have
fallen upon Peakslow's buildings. The stable was
unroofed, and the barn had lost a door.
The house had fared still worse: it was-even as
'Lecty Ann had said-almost literally "blowed
down."
It had consisted of two parts,-a pretty sub-
stantial log-cabin, which dated back to the earliest
days of the settlement, and a framed addition,
called a lean-to, or linterr." The roof of the old
part had been lifted, and tumbled, with some of
the upper logs, a mass of ruins, over upon the
linterr," which had been crushed to the ground
by the weight.
Mrs. Peakslow and the girls and younger chil-
dren were in the log-house at the time; and, mar-
velous as it seemed, all had escaped serious
injury.
The boys were in the field with their father, and
had run a race with the tornado. The tornado
beat. Dud was knocked down within a few rods
of the house. Zeph was blown up on a stack of
hay, and lodged there; the stack itself-and this
was one of the curious freaks of the whirlwind-
being uninjured, except that it was canted over a
little, and ruffled a good deal, as if its feathers had
been stroked the wrong way.
Mr. Peakslow was ahead of the boys; and they
thought he must have reached the linter.
Zeph, slipping down from his perch in the hay-
stack, as soon as the storm had passed, and seeing
the house in ruins, and his mother and sisters
struggling to get out, had run screaming for help
down the road toward Mr. Wiggett's.
Dud remained; and by pushing from without,
while the imprisoned family lifted and pulled from
within, helped to move a log which had fallen
down against the closed door, and so aided the
escape from the house.
'Lecty Ann ran to the nearest neighbors up the
river. The rest stayed by the ruins; and there
Lord Betterson and Jack-the earliest on the spot
-found them, a terrified group, bewildered, be-
wailing, gazing hopelessly and helplessly at the
unroofed cabin and crushed linter, and calling for
" Pa."
Where is your husband, Mrs. Peakslow?"
cried Jack.
O, I don't know where he is, 'thout he's


698


[SEPTEMBER,







THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


there said the poor woman, with a gesture of
despair toward the ruined linter.
This rubbish must be removed," said Lord
Betterson. If friend Peakslow is under it, he
can't be taken out too soon."
And with his own hands he set to work, display-
ing an energy of will and coolness of judgment
which would have astonished Jack, if he had not
once before seen something of what was in the
man.
Jack and the boys seconded their father; and
now Dud came and worked side by side with Wad
and Rufe.
A broken part of the roof was knocked to pieces,
and the rafters were used for levers and props.
The main portion of the roof was next turned
over, and got out of the way. Then one by one
the logs were removed; all hands, from Lord Bet-
terson down to Link, working like heroes.
Meanwhile, Vinnie did what she could to aid
and comfort Mrs. Peakslow; and Caroline and her
little company came and looked on.
Mr. Wiggett also arrived, with Zeph, and helped
get away the last of the logs.
Under the logs was the crushed shell of the lin-
ter; and all looked anxiously, to see what was
under that.
A good many things were under it,-pots and
kettles, wash-tubs, milk pans (badly battered),
churn and cheese-press, bed and trundle-bed,-but
no Peakslow.
It was a disappointment, and yet a relief, not to
find him there, after all. But where was he ? Dud
ran back to the field, to look for him; while the
others rested from their labors.
Did the wind do you much damage, Mr. Wig-
gett ? Lord inquired.
"Not so much as it mout," replied the old man.
"It was mighty suddent. Banged if I knowed
what in seven kingdoms was a-gwine to happen.
It roared and bellered that orful, I did n't know but
the etarnal smash-up had come."
It must have passed pretty near your house,-
I saw it swing that way," said Jack.
Wal, I reckon you're right thar, young man.
It jest took holt o' my cabin, an' slewed one cor-
ner on't around about five or six inches; an'
done no more damage, in particular, fur's I can
diskiver; only, of course, it discomfusticated that
ar' noon-mark. I left the ol' woman mournin' over
that! "
Jack laughed, and promised to replace the noon-
mark.
There's Dud a-yelling said Link.
The roof of the shed-which must have been the
object Vinnie saw rise and turn in the air-had
been taken off very neatly, with the two gable


pieces, whirled over once or more, and then land-
ed gently, right side up with care, on the edge of
the potato-patch, two or three rods away. Dud,
hunting for his father, passed near it, and heard
stifled cries come from under it. He was yelling,
indeed, as Link said.
In a moment a dozen feet rushed to the spot,
and a dozen hands laid hold of one side of the
roof, under which Jack thrust a lever. Some lifted
on the lever, while some lifted on the edge of the
roof itself; and out crawled-bushy head and
hooked nose foremost-the shaggy shape of the
elder Peakslow.

CHAPTER XXXVI.
WHAT HAPPENED WHEN CECIE WAS LEFT
ALONE.
THE roof was let down again as soon as Peak-
slow's legs were well from under it, and a wonder-
ing group-men, boys, women and children-
gathered round to see if he was hurt.
Wal said Peakslow, getting upon his feet,
giving his clothes a brush with his broad hand, and
staring about him, "this is a mighty purty piece
of business Did n't none on ye hear me call ? "
Did you call ?" said Mrs. Peakslow, trembling
with joy and fright.
Call ? echoed Peakslow, feeling his left shoul-
der with his right hand. I believe I b'en calling'
there for the last half-hour. What was ye knocking'
that ruf to pieces for? I could hear ye, an' see
ye, an' I wanted to put a stop to't. Had n't the
wind damaged me enough, but you must pitch
in? "
We thought you were under the ruins," Mr.
Betterson replied with dignity.
Thought I was under the ruins! What made
ye think that ?" growled Peakslow.
I thought so-I told them so," Mrs. Peakslow
explained; while Lord Betterson walked away with
calm disgust.
"Ye might 'a' knowed better 'n that Here I
was under this ruf all the time. It come over on
to me like a great bird, knocked me down with a
flop of its wing,-mos' broke my shoulder, I be-
lieve; an' when I come to myself, and peeked
through a crack, there was a crew knockin' the
ruf o' the house to flinders. I was too weak to call
very loud, but, if you'd cared much, I should think
ye might 'a' heard me. Look a' that house, now !
look a' that shed It's the blastedest luck "
Jack could n't help smiling. Peakslow turned
upon him furiously.
You here ? So ye think my boy's a thief, do
ye? "
Come, Lion come, boys !" said Jack, and









THE YOUNG SURVEYOR. 1 SEPTEMBER,


started to follow Mr. Betterson, without more
words.
Come here and 'cuse my boy o' stealin' said
Peakslow, turning, and looking all about him, as if
he had hardly yet regained his senses. I had a hat


-
--- -.: ..._-- -:
---:_ -' .:


PEAKSLOW RE-APPEARS.
somewhere. Hundred dollars-no, nor two hun-
dred-wont pay the damage done to me this day."
But the children, they are all safe," said Mrs.
Peakslow, and we ought to be thankful."
Thankful! Look a' that linter Three hun-
dred wont do it! "
O, pa cried Zeph, you've got a great gash
on the back o' your head "
Never mind the gash," said Peakslow, putting
up his hand. That 'll heal itself. Holes in the
building's wont."
Vinnie meanwhile conferred with Jack and Mr.
Betterson, as they were about going away; and
also called her sister, and afterward Mrs. Peakslow,
to the consultation.
0, I don't know, Lavinia dear said Caroline
in great distress of mind.
But Lord Betterson spoke out manfully:
Lavinia is right. Mrs. Peakslow, we have
plenty of spare room in our house, which you are
welcome to till you can do better."


"O, Mr. Betterson the poor woman sobbed
out, quite overcome by this unexpected kindness,
" you are too good "
I beg your pardon," replied Lord Betterson, in
his most gracious manner. "We wish simply to
do as we might wish neighbors to do
by us under similar circumstances. Our
boys will help yours get your things
over to my house,-whatever you want,
Mrs. Peakslow."
Lord did not much mind the woman's
outburst of tears and thanks; but when
he observed the look of admiration and
gratitude in Vinnie's deep eyes, fixed
upon him, he felt an unaccustomed
thrill.
Mrs. Peakslow went weeping back to
her husband.
I am sorry you spoke as you did,"
she said. "We all thought you was
S under the linter; and they was all
working' so hard-as if they had been
our best friends-to get you out."
"Best friends repeated Peakslow,
with a snort of angry contempt.
Yes, pa; and now, will you believe
it,--now that we have n't a ruf to our
heads,-they offer us shelter in their
S house "
In the castle ? huh sneered
Peakslow. "I never thought 't would
come to that! "
T3 "Where else can we go ?" said Mrs.
S Peakslow. It's 'most night-nights
are beginning' to be cold-and think o'
the children 'T will be weeks, I
s'pose, 'fore ye can rebuild."
If I could n't rebuild in all etarnity, I would n't
set foot in Lord Betterson's castle !" said Peakslow.
He looked again at the ruined house, then at the
children, and added: Me an' the boys, we can
stop in the stable, or dig holes in the stack, to
make ourselves comf'table. Do what you 've a
min' ter, for the rest. But don't say I told ye to
ask or accept a favor of them."
The Bettersons, Vinnie, and Jack were waiting
between the ruined house and the road; and Mrs.
Betterson was saying, Lillie, you and I must be
going back; remember, we left Cecie all alone;
and the evening air is too chill for-the baby," when
Link cried:
Who 's that coming down the road? "
All looked ; and Vinnie and Jack and Link ran
out to look. They could scarcely believe their eyes.
It can't be said Vinnie.
"Yes, it is," exclaimed Link; "it's her-it's
her "


[SEPTEMBER,


THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.







THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


"Who?" Caroline inquired anxiously, dreading
some new calamity.
Cecie Cecie Sure as the world! said two
or three at once.
It was indeed the little invalid, who, though she
had scarcely taken a step without help for many
months, was actually coming down the road, walk-
ing, and walking fast, without even the crutch she
had sometimes tried to use !
She was beckoning and calling. Jack and Vin-
nie and the boys ran to meet her. She was pale
and very much excited, and it was some time before
she could speak coherently.
Radcliff was almost her first word.
What about Radcliff? where is he?" Vinnie
asked.
Gone "
Gone where ?"
I don't know. He came into the house-he
saw the pocket-book and money on the table-I
told him he must n't take them "
And did he ?" said Rufe.
Yes. He only laughed at me. He said his
chance had come."
Which way did he go ? "
He drove up through the woods."
Drove ? echoed Jack.
He took the horse and buggy."
My horse and buggy! "-and Jack, followed
by Lion and Rufe and Link, started up the road.
Though shocked at Radcliff's conduct, Vinnie
thought less of the loss of the money, and of the
horse and buggy, than of the seeming miracle in
Cecie's case.
How could you walk so, Cecie ?"
"I don't know. I suppose it was the excite-
ment. Strength came to me. I called, but could
not make anybody hear, and I thought you ought
to know."
Mr. Betterson would have carried her home in
his arms, but she would not let him.
I can walk better and better 1 That numbness
of my limbs is almost gone. I believe I am going
to be cured, after all "


CHAPTER XXXVII.

"ON THE WAR TRAIL."

THERE could be no mistake about it-pocket-
book and money, and horse and buggy, were gone
with Radcliff.
He has taken the road to Chicago," said Jack,
easily tracking the wheels after the recent rain.
"But he '11 find it not so easy selling the horse
there a second time."
"But he'll spend all that money,".said Rufe.


" He'll find it easy enough to do that. He's a
scamp, if he is my cousin."
I wish it was n't night," said Jack. I would
track him And I will as it is. Have you a lan-
tern ?"
Yes-I '11 go with you Shall we take the
mare and one-horse wagon ?"
If you like. But, Rufe, if you go with me,
you 'll have to travel all night. I am on the war
trail! "
I 'm with you 1 said Rufe, and he gave an
Indian war-whoop.
Mr. Betterson, coming up, approved ,of this
resolution. And, boys," he said, if you should
lay hands on Radcliff, you may as well bring him
back with you. We 'll try to have a more satisfac-
tory settlement with him this time."
Jack left his friends to harness the mare to the
wagon, and went on alone, with Lion and the lan-
tern, up through the woods.
For a while, he had no trouble in following the
fresh marks of hoofs and wheels over the wet
ground. But when he reached the prairie, an un-
foreseen difficulty appeared. The rain had not
extended so far, and the tracks were not easily dis-
tinguished.
It was nearly dark when Rufe, following in the
wagon, emerged from the woods. Lonesome and
gloomy stretched the great prairie before him,
under a sky of flying clouds. The insects of the
Autumn night filled the air with their shrill, mel-
ancholy notes. An owl hooted in the forest; a
pair of whippoorwills were vociferating somewhere
in the thickets; and far off on the prairie the
wolves howled. Now and then a rift of dark blue
sky and a few wildly hurrying stars were visible
through the flocking clouds. No other light, or
sign of life, until Rufe described far before him in
the darkness a waving, ruddy gleam, and knew it
was the ray from the lantern swinging in Jack's
hand.
Driving on as fast as the mare's somewhat de-
crepit paces would allow, he found Jack waiting
for him at a point where the road divided, one
branch taking a northerly direction, the other trend-
ing easterly, toward the great road to Chicago.
Here 's a puzzle," said Jack, as Rufe drove up.
I've tracked the fellow as far as here, notwith-
standing he has tried the trick of driving off on the
prairie in two or three places. But here, instead
of taking the direct road to Chicago, as we sup-
posed, he has taken this by-road, if my eyes are
good for anything. Lion says I am right; for I
believe I've made him understand we are hunting
Snowfoot."
Rufe jumped down from the wagon, and saw by
the light of the lantern the imperfect and yet pecu-







THE YOUNG SURVEYOR.


liar marks of Snowfoot's rather smooth-worn shoes,
and of the narrow wheel-tires.
It is a game of his to mislead us," said Rufe.
" I believe if we follow him on to where this by-
road crosses the main road, we shall find he has
there turned off toward the city."
Go ahead, Lion; find Snowfoot! cried Jack,
and jumped into the wagon with Rufe.
They got on as fast as they could; but the pur-
suit was necessarily slow, for not only was the mare
a creature of very indifferent speed, but the boys
found it useful to stop every now and then and ex-
amine the tracks by the light of the lantern.
"The dog is right; and we are right so far,
sure said Jack, after they had proceeded about
halfa mile in this way. "Slow and sure is our
policy. We've all the Fall before us, Rufe; and
we '11 overhaul your pretty cousin, unless something
breaks. Now, drive straight on to the main road,
and we'll see what we can discover there."
To the surprise of both again, the fugitive, in-
stead of turning cityward, kept the northerly
road.
He is cunning," said Rufe. "He knows
Chicago is the first place where one would be apt
to look for him; and, besides, I think he is get-
ting too well known in Chicago."
He is bound for Wisconsin," cried Jack.
"Whip along. This road passes through the
timber, and brings us to the river again; we shall
soon find settlements, where we can inquire for our
game."
If you can speak Dutch, and if it was n't too
late when Rad passed through," Rufe replied.
" There is a colony of meinheers up here ; they go
to bed a little after sundown."
As they drove on from the crossing, Jack said,
" That left-hand road goes to North Mills. But I
shan't see North Mills to-night, nor for a good
many nights, I 'm afraid."


Jack, however, as we shall see, was mistaken.
The road above the crossing was much more
traveled than below; and for a while the boys
found it very difficult to make out Snowfoot's tracks.,
But soon again fortune favored them.
"Rain-it has been raining here said Jack,
examining the road where it entered the skirts of
the timber-" and raining hard We must be
nearing the path of the whirlwind again."
They passed through a belt of woods, where the
storm had evidently passed, but without doing
much damage; for it was a peculiarity of that
elephant of a cloud that it appeared to draw up its
destroying trunk once or twice, and skip over a
few miles in its course, only to swing it down again
with greater fury.
The road was now drenched all the way, and the
trail they followed so distinct that the boys did not
stop to make inquiries at the log-huts which began
to appear before they were well through the woods.
They made comparatively rapid progress up the
valley, until they came to a point where the river,
in its winding course, was crossed by the road.
There, again, the tornado had done a brisk busi-
ness; the bridge was destroyed, the sides of the
road gullied, and the river swollen.
Both boys alighted and examined the track.
Here is where he stopped and hesitated, find-
ing the bridge gone," said Jack. And see! here
are his own tracks, as if he had got out of the
buggy and gone a-head to reconnoiter."
"As well he might," Rufe answered. Look
at these tree-tops, and the timbers of the bridge
lodged in the middle of the river."
He seems to have got through, and I guess we
can," said Jack. I've forded this stream, below
the bridge, before now, when I've wanted to water
my horse; but it was free from all this sort of rub-
bish then. There must have been a great fall of
rain up here "


(To be coulinued.)


THERE was a pretty dandelion,
With lovely fluffy hair,
That glistened in the sunshine,
And in the Summer air.
But, oh this pretty dandelion
Soon grew quite old and gray;
And, sad to tell! her charming hair
Blew many miles away.


[SEPTEMBER,







" EL GOOFFAH.


"EL GOOFFAH."


A (A1 jiesopota

BY A. I

HE natives of Mesopotamia possess a
kind of boat, used solely for fresh-water
J/ navigation, which, for originality of de-
s sign and manner of construction, is cer-
S tainly very peculiar. It is probable, too,
that the existence of such boats has
Shitherto scarcely been known beyond
> the boundaries of the country where
S they are in use.
S"El Gooffah," as the Arabic speak-
Sing population of that region commonly
calls this peculiar craft, is undoubtedly
S a boat of very ancient origin, dating its
o o first use but little later than the raft,-
the latter being probably the most prim-
itive of all floating structures.
S There is proof positive that the gooffah
was in use in Assyria many centuries
anterior to the birth of Christ, as uninis-
Stakable fac-similes thereof, represented
on bass-reliefs, inscriptions and other
antiquities, unearthed from among the
ruins of Nineveh, Babylon and Kufa,
attest.
The gooffah is nothing more nor less
than a huge, perfectly round basket, of
S extremely strong and coarse wooden
wicker-work.
It is constructed of various sizes, vary-
ing between four and eight feet in di-
ameter, and between three and four feet
in depth; which size, combined with its
spherical shape and slightly rounded
bottom, renders it capable of carrying
from two to ten tons of dead weight,-a carrying
capacity, exceeding that of any other kind of boat
of equal dimensions hitherto known.
The huge basket, which constitutes the frame-
work of the craft, is rendered perfectly water-tight
by a coat of asphaltum, carefully applied about an
inch thick all over the inside and outside of the
basket, after having been mixed with some other
substance, which latter causes the asphaltum,
almost as soon as applied, to become and remain
as hard as stone, in spite of the intense heat of
the sun.
The sides and bottom of the gooffah are from
three to five inches thick, according to the size of
the craft, and the rim is nicely rounded off.
As a good breeze is seldom blowing in that


mian Boat.)


LOCHER.

region, and the water of the rivers scarcely ever
ruffled, the gooffah can be loaded down with
safety to within a few inches of the surface of the
water, and, as the craft is destitute of a helm or
rudder, it is both steered and propelled by means
of a light wooden paddle, about five feet long.
For down-river navigation, one man generally
constitutes the entire crew, except when the goof-
fah is deeply loaded, and consequently not as
easily managed. When going against the current,
however, this paddling is very fatiguing work, even
for strong and expert gooffajees (Arabic for
men who navigate the gooffah). So they prefer to
fasten a long tough rope to the boat; and while one
of them wades ashore, and pulls it by the rope
against the current, the other one, who remains
aboard, steers with his paddle, so as to keep the
gooffah out of too shallow water, and from running
foul of the river bank.
Owing to the total absence of anything like a
keel in this truly Oriental craft, it has the some-
what objectionable characteristic of continually
twirling slowly round and round on its center of
gravity, as well when carried on by the current as
when propelled by one paddle only; so much so,
indeed, that persons not accustomed to this rotary
locomotion are apt to feel dizzy, and sometimes
sick in consequence thereof. This inconvenience,
however, can be avoided by the employment of
two paddlers, instead of only one; who station
themselves a little apart from each other, and
while one of them sweeps constantly to the right
with his paddle, the other one does so continually
to the left, by which simple proceeding the gooffah
is naturally held in a steady position. By dint of
time, however, people get so accustomed to the
revolving, above referred to, that they soon begin
to consider it rather a convenience, as the rotatory
progress of the craft enables., them to get a con-
stantly revolving view of the scenery.
Gooffahs are extensively employed as ferry-boats
on the rivers Euphrates and Tigris, as well as on
their principal tributaries, and are, as such, really
very useful in that country, which is so poorly pro-
vided with bridges.
Owing to their perfectly spherical shape and
gently rounded bottom, it is all but impossible to
capsize them; moreover, their draft of water, for
the same reasons, is less than that of any other
kind of boat, of the same size, in existence.










cursion in the gooffah, over the smooth waters of
the stately Tigris.
Both of the ladies wear the traditional pagee "
(pronounce: page-y), the stiff horse-hair veil
worn by the women of the higher class of Moslems,
Jews and Christians throughout Mesopotamia.
The veil of the fair sex of Persia is composed of
embroidered white linen or muslin; that of the
women of the east coast of Arabia of dark red
silk, and that of the women of Egypt, and certain
parts of North Africa, of black cotton or thin
woolen cloth of the same color.
The Mesopotamian horse-hair veil has the pecu-


Some gooffahs are large enough to carry as
many as twenty persons at once, if the latter stand
upright. Camels, horses, cattle, sheep, etc., are
likewise transported across the rivers by means of
gooffahs.
In Mossul, Bagdad, and Bassorah, gooffahs play
an important role as pleasure boats, for they are
the only craft available there for the purpose.
The natives, and residents of all creeds and com-
plexions in those cities, delight in spending a few
hours daily, in the morning or evening, or during
those justly famous Mesopotamian moonlight
nights, in little pleasure trips on the water.




















-. -- .
-.-
2 -: ' ;.1."- :-':. -"t E-'-- E


A 1MEFSOPUTANUAN GOOIFAH."


In their gooffahs they cross, and recross the
river in search of the cosiest palm-tree groves
along its banks, where they ensconce themselves
in numerous picturesque little groups. Then they
quietly enjoy themselves-men and women smoke
composedly the fragrant "narghileh (water-
bowl-tobacco-pipe), sip rakee (arack) or "sherbet"
(lemonade), eat delicious dates, pomegranates,
grapes, and other fruit of the country; chat,
laugh, sing, relate stories, play cards, chess, and
other games, or bathe in the cool waters of the
silvery stream.
The sketch accompanying this article represents
a Moslem merchant, with two of his wives and a
negro slave, enjoying his customary evening ex-


liarity of being utterly impenetrable to the gaze of
the outsider, while it is perfectly transparent for
the person who wears it. The face of a respect-
able Moslem female, according to Moslem notions,
must never be seen unveiled outside of the thresh-
old of her home.
And so, paddled by the faithful gooffahjee,"
they slowly float over the placid waters, and under
the evening sky, gently revolving as they go, so that
sometimes they look east, and sometimes west, and
north, and south. But, so long as the pipe draws
well, and the air is cool, and the water feels soft
and pleasant to the ladies' fingers, they care not
how they float in this boat, without a stern and
with never a sign of a bow.


"LEL GOOF7FAH.")


[SEPTEMBER,







AN INDIAN STORY. 705


ECHOES.

BY J. P. B.


WHEN out upon a lake, one day,
I listened to the echoes play,
As, wakened from their slumber,
They answered from the rocky wall,
In accents clear, my every call,
In mockeries without number.

What shall we use to gain the shore?"
Quickly we heard the answer, "Oar!"

S" Which wishes first to gain the beach?"
The laughing echo answered, "Each!"

What shall I use to win the heart
Of her I love?" He shouted, "Art! "


"Ah you have worldly wisdom, sprite!"
The echo quickly answered, Right "

"Where lies her worth if I can win her?"
The clever echo whispered, "In her!"

"Who such a lady's hand would sue?"
The merry fellow shouted, "You !"

" How would she treat love proffered slightly?"
The honest echo answered, "Lightly!"

" How long, by faithfulest endeavor,
Will love respond to kindness ? "-" Ever !"


AN INDIAN STORY.

BY KATE FOOTE.


THE Bishop children--Ned, Frank, Susie--
had gone Indian mad. Ned and Frank, the two
oldest, were just beginning United States History,
and their imaginations were fired with the Indian
stories there found, and they set the fashion among
the children at school, until playing Indian be-
came the rage. At recess and noon, divided into
parties and painted with poke-berries and huckle-
berries, they made attacks upon each other with
wild war-whoops, hideous enough to make any old
Indian, if such there was buried near, turn over
in his grave. Susie had a doll with a wig; but
in the raids made by adverse Indians upon the
party to which she belonged, that doll was always
taken and scalped; she got the wig back during
the peace times of study-hour, only to have it car-
ried off in the next skirmish. The poor doll was
as bald as a glass bottle most of the time. Ned
and Frank built wigwams of the most approved
pattern, making them to look just like the pictures
of Indian towns; and learning that succotash and
bear-meat were the principal articles of Indian diet,
they lived on those things as much as possible,
always calling pork bear-meat, as there was a diffi-
culty about getting the real article.
They became painfully expert with bows and
VOL. II.-46.


arrows, as was evidenced one day by Ned's send-
ing an arrow rattling through the kitchen window-
pane; while Frank, a few days after, making a
line-shot at a calf escaped from the stable, which
he called a bear, took the hired man fing!
through his straw-hat crown, making two addi-
tional holes to the ventilators already there, and
startling the men a good deal.
Susie did her hair i la Indian,-with cocks'
plumes and beads,-and dressed the scalped doll
like an Indian princess. But their crowning de-
light was to get their grandfather, who, although
eighty years old, was so erect and hearty that
he looked much younger, to tell them Indian
stories.
Grandfather Bishop, when a boy, lived with an
uncle, then an old man of ninety; and the father
of this uncle had been one of the first settlers, and
a fighter of Indians in his day. So the stories
came down to the Bishop children with an addi-
tional freshness, in that their grandfather knew the
man who knew the hero.
Late in August, Mr. Bishop, the father of Ned,
and Frank, and Susie, began to think of the patch
of salt meadow he owned seven miles away by the
sea, and planned to go down the next day in the


AN INDIAN STORY.


705






AN INDIAN STORY.


wagon with scythes, and mow it. This was done,
and after letting it lie a day or two to dry, there
was a grand muster of all the men to go down,
shake it, rake it, and finally bring it home.
The big wagon was to go to bring the hay
home, and the common wagon to bring the men
back. Frank and Ned were to go; and when
Susie found that they were saving up their best
arrows for it, and had resolved to consider them-
selves as a party of warriors, on an expedition
into the country of another tribe, and that a gen-
eral rose-colored atmosphere encircled the whole
thing, she laid siege to her father that she might
go too.
It was an old story to him of a hard day's work,
and not an atom of rose-color lay about it. He
could not see why she wanted to go. But Susie
hung round him, and begged.
Why, father," said she, I am six years old,
and I have n't been out of North Guilford in my
life."
Father and grandfather laughed at the energy
with which this was said.
It's too bad said grandfather. "' Lived
among the hills and the huckleberry-bushes all her
life, and never seen the sea nor the Great Plain !
Guess she must go, father."
Susie knew it was decided then, and rushed out
to tell her brothers with nearly as wild a yell as
they themselves might have given.
The next morning there was racing and chasing
under the roof of the Bishops. The boys were so
afraid they should not wake up early enough, that
they slept on the edge of the bed with their arrows
and tomahawks on the floor by the side, and fell
out once or twice during the night, which had the
desired effect of keeping them lively.
So it was still very early, when, after much
packing away of dinner, and pitchforks, and rakes,
and jugs of water, they at last rattled off in the
warm, red sunlight of a dry August morning.
The boys gave their mother a farewell whoop as
they went out of sight, to which Susie added some
extra treble squeals. How very jolly it was Mr.
Bishop, and grandfather, and the children, were
all in the hay-wagon, the two hired men driving
the other wagon behind them.
"There, children !" said -... i .,iI..-., as they
came to the top of Long Hill, there is the sea
and the town."
Susie stared with both her eyes wide open, and
wondered whether the sea ran into the sky, or the
sky into the sea; for both were so clear and blue,
it was hard to trace the dividing line.
A mile or two farther on, they began to get into
the little town of Guilford, which is one of those
solemn New England towns that dot the shores of


Long Island Sound, each one with its white houses
close shut, and a white church, also shut.
"There," said grandfather, as they drove through
one of the side-streets, and pointing to a rather
low but nice-looking farm-house built on a side-
hill, with a good deal of the cellar wall visible on
the down-hill side, in that house is the cellar
where the regicides were hid."
Regicides !" said Ned; "what are they? That
is a tribe I never heard of before."
Grandfather's eyes twinkled.
It was not a very large tribe," said he; there
were not two hundred of them, and they never
killed but one man."
Could n't have been very good Indians," said
Ned, with great contempt.
They were not; I never said they were Indians
at all."
"What were they, then?" said Frank-Ned
being a little confused.
Nothing but white men, who thought they




.-- .- -






.- --- -
K- '




--'
--- > __________











THE OLD STONE HOUSE AT GUILFORD.

had better kill a certain King of others, who
would lie and steal in spite of everything they
could do to stop him."
"'Oh, do tell us about it!" cried all the children.
"Not now," said grandfather, "I want to tell
you something else, and you can read all about it
in English history. Do you see that house over
there?"
The children all looked as he pointed, and saw a
house on a slight hill, about a mile away, with the
chimney built at one end, on the outside, and with
very small, deeply set windows. They all looked
at it, and then at their grandfather.
That was built in 1640," said he, just twenty
years after the first people landed from the 'May-
flower.' You can see how thick the walls are
from the way the windows are set in. They meant


7o6


[SEPTEMBER,






AN INDIAN STORY.


to have them strong, so as to keep out Indian
arrows. "
The children bristled with interest at the word
Indian, and almost fell out of the wagon, trying to
crowd round their grandfather.
Did they have any fights ? said Susie; did
the Indians chase them into the house, and whoop,
and pound on the door, and shoot arrows into the
windows?"
"They had a good many j. .. said grand-
father, "but the only real fight was three miles
away from here, near where we are going to-day,
at Sachem's Head."
"What was it? what was it? what was it?"
cried Ned, and Frank, and Susie. Tell us about
it, grandpa."
Susie got so excited she stuck her head among
the reins, and nearly made the horses go into a
ditch.
"Gently, gently," said grandpa; "don't upset
us, Susie, and I'll tell you all about it. Uncle
Jabez, you see, was in the fight, and he used to tell
my Uncle Ebenezer about it, and he told me."
The children felt as though Uncle Jabcz himself,
fresh from the battle, was talking to them; it
brought it so near, to be looking at the very places,
and getting the story at third hand.
"You see they had been having a great fight
over east, with the Pequots-"
"I know them," put in Frank; "they lived over
by New London, and killed lots of people."
Yes, they killed a great many people, until
the English,-you know we were all English
then "
"Oh, yes," said Ned, we had not been long
enough in this country to be Americans."
"The English," grandpa went on, "had to set
to work at last, to kill the Indians, or the Indians
would kill them. So there was this great battle at
a fort near New London, and a great many hun-
dred Indians were killed. The rest tried to run
away. Some of the English soldiers, Uncle Jabez
among them, with some Mohegan Indians who
hated the Pequots worse than they did white
men, followed them on land, and the rest of the
English went along in boats on the Sound close
to the shore, meaning to land wherever the Indians
stopped, and have another fight. Uncle Jabez
said they chased the Pequots through Clinton,
where there was not a house then, and over the
Great Plain of Guilford here, where even that old
stone house was not built then, until they got down
here to Sachem's Head, where we are coming,
pretty soon. The Englishmen and the Indians
came across the creeks, and over the hills, covered
with big trees, then, until they came out by that
long tongue of land. There it is. You can see


from this hill how long and narrow it is, and how it
runs out into the water; you see it makes a head-
land on one side of the bay. Well, the Pequots
went down on that point, hoping the Mohegans and
the English would go by and not notice it. But
Uncle Jabez said that Uncas (he was the Mohegan
chief) was too crafty to be fooled that way. He
called one or two of his men and said something to
them in their language, and they went off down
the Point. Pretty soon they gave a yell. Then
Uncas knew they had found the tracks of the
Pequots, and, just as quick as they could, they
divided into two parties. Some more of the In-
dians and the Englishmen hurried down the Point,
and Uncas and the rest went round as fast as they
could to the other side of the bay. As soon as the
Pequots knew they were followed, they ran down
to the shore, jumped into the water, and swam
across. You see the harbor is not very wide there;
but the minute they struck the other shore, Uncas
and his men jumped out from behind the trees,
and then Uncas drew his bow clear to the arrow-
head, and the arrow struck the Pequot sachem in
the breast, and he fell over dead; and then Uncas
cut off his head, and put it up in a tree."
Susie began to cry a little, and the boys looked a
good deal disturbed. But this did not last long.
"Here we are at the meadow," said grandpa,
and Mr. Bishop stopped the horses at a fence by
the side of the road, and the children sprang out
with great delight. They could see the waters of
the Sound at the end of the long reach of flat
meadow, with headlands of gray rock rising on
each side, and wanted to go at once down to the
shore. But Ned and Frank had to work a little
first, with the promise of play afterward. So,
while they tossed the short brown hay in showers
into the air, Susie climbed among the rocks of the
low ledge which walled the meadow on each side,
and made discoveries of new insects and flowers,
until dinner time. After dinner, the desired per-
mission was given, and away the children streamed,
grandfather Bishop leading, and rested not until
they had verified the spot where the Pequot sachem
had been killed, and thought they found, at least,
the stump of the tree in which his head was put,
and had made their grandfather give them the
right and wrong, or the moral side of the whole
affair, which he did in a very few words.
"The Indians should not have fought the Eng-
lish, for they always bought the Indians' land-did
not steal it from them. Perhaps the English were
sometimes unjust in other matters, but is it not
better, after all, that a people like them should have
the country, who could grow to be a great nation,
than a few Indians, who were only a little above the
bears they killed and ate?"


707







THAT BIRD. [SEPTEMBER,


The children did not understand this very clearly,
but they thought grandpa was always right, and so
agreed with him.
Then they acted over the story from the fight at
the fort to the final scene at the Bloody Cove, and





'I_,',











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'L J-;,*J~'



I:J,


by the time their father called them to go home,
if Frank's head had really been cut off as many
times as it had in the character of the Pequot
chieftain, he would not have been more than an
inch high.


A COUPLE OF WORKERS IN THE HARVEST FIELD.


THAT BIRD.

BY WILLIAM S. WALSH.


BIRD-CATCHING, by means of bird-lime, is one
of the great amusements of the Italian boys, who
are not Bird-defenders. Although they endeavor
merely to catch the birds, and are very careful not
to injure them, they could not join the ST. NICH-
OLAS Army.
The way they practice the sport is as follows:
They prepare themselves with leather sheathes
full of twigs which have been smeared with the
lime,--each twig being about a foot in length, and
having one of its ends whittled down to a sharp


point,-together with a cage full of the loudest and
noisiest singing-birds they can get. Selecting a
large spreading tree, a boy climbs up, cuts a num-
ber of small slits in its branches with a penknife,
and loosely places the point of one of his twigs into
each of these slips, until the tree is fairly bristling
all over with them. He then hangs up his cage
somewhere in the top of the tree where it will
be concealed by the foliage, and descends to the
ground. The hubbub created by the cage-birds
will attract to the tree all the wild birds flying


THAT BIRD.


[SEPTEMBER,







THAT BIRD.


within ear-shot of it. Every now and then an
unlucky one will get caught on a limed twig, in its
desperate struggles to free itself will loosen the
twig, and bird and twig will come tumbling to the
ground, where it is readily secured. I have seen'
as many as fifty birds caught in a single morning
in this manner.
My friend and countryman, Jack Hill, used to
be exceedingly fond of this sport. He was quite
successful, too, and the aviary in the villa where
the family resided was full of nightingales, robins,
larks, and other trophies of his skill.
In the same aviary were a pair of Virginia
mocking-birds, which Jack's father had brought
over with him from America, and which were par-
ticular pets of the old gentleman's. The male,
especially, was a magnificent singer. As you may
suppose, it acted as a splendid call-bird, and I am
sorry to say that Jack would frequently use it for
this purpose against the express command of his
father. I remember a queer adventure that once
happened to the bird when I was on a visit to Jack.
I lived in Florence at the time.
Jack and myself had planned to spend a day in
bird-catching, and, as old Mr. Hill chanced to be
away from home at the time, Jack took the male
mocking-bird along with him, besides a number
of other songsters, carrying them in a wicker cage,
so large and heavy that each of us had to take an
end of it.
About a couple of miles from the house we came
upon a large oak-tree which Jack pronounced to
be just the thing. Equipping himself with the
sheaf of limed twigs, and tying one end of a cord
to his wrist and the other to the bird-cage, so
that he could readily hoist it up after him to the
top of the tree, Jack commenced "shinning" up
the trunk. But before he had gone half-way up he
missed his hold. Unfortunately, the bird-cage had
been placed just at the foot of the tree, and when
he fell, he came crashing down upon it. One of
the sides burst open,--there was a sudden whirr
of wings,-and the next instant the birds had all
vanished from sight. A look of blank despair was
pictured in Jack's face as he slowly picked himself
up, and gazed on the havoc he had made, exclaim-
ing, Good gracious i what 'll father say ? "
I could n't inform him what his father would say,
so we both sat down on a smooth piece of rock,
and gazed at the toes of our shoes for some time
in doleful silence. By and by Jack lifted up his
head and continued in the same mournful strain:
That mocking-bird cost father forty dollars, if it
cost him a cent!" Another pause. "And I
don't believe he'd have parted with it for a hun-
dred "
"Well, but, Jack," said I, encouragingly, "per-


haps after all the bird is n't lost. It may fly back
to its mate."
That's so cried Jack. I remember once
it did escape from the aviary, and it came back
again soon afterward. Let's hurry home I "
We gathered up our things and trudged hope-
fully back. But we were doomed to be disappoint-
ed. The bird hadn't been seen or heard of by
anybody at home, as we privately learned from the
man-cook, Eugenio, whom we took into our confi-
dence. The latter advised us to see the gar-
dener,-perhaps he would know something about
it. After some search, we found Cecco digging in
his garden. He paused when he saw us, and,
hearing our story, he shook his head.
No," said he, I have n't seen anything of it,
Signorini; and he was about to resume his labor,
when a sudden thought seemed to strike him, and
he paused. Ah t wait a while! said he; you
know Carambolo, don't you ? Well, I saw him
just now, and he told me his son Beppe had been
out bird-catching, and had caught such a queer
bird, he never saw the like of it before. Who
knows? it may have been your bird."
"It must have been! cried Jack. "Come
on, let's go to his house !"
We found old Maria, Carambolo's grandmother,
in the front yard, a distaff and a spindle in her
hands, crooning away the while in a cracked old
voice something about a false cavalier who had left
her forlorn. She rose at our approach, courtesied,
and glanced at us with some surprise. Jack, who
by this time could speak Italian with tolerable
fluency, hurriedly explained to her the reason of
our coming.
Ah, yes said she, Beppe was out bird-
catching this morning, and he caught some very
pretty birds,-some very pretty birds."
Won't you let us see the birds he caught? I
asked.
Certainly,-certainly And, hobbling into
the house, she soon brought out a large cage filled
with birds. Here they are, Signorini,-here
they are 1 she said.
We eagerly gazed into the cage, and our hearts
sank within us when we found that the object of
our search was not there.
Did n't Beppe catch any other birds besides
these, Maria ? Jack inquired.
Eh? cried Maria. Yes, he caught another
one, Signorini."
What did he do with it ?"
What did he do with it, eh ? my poor old
head, I can't remember anything now! O yes!
he said he was going to Pistoja, to sell it."
Pistoja was the neighboring town. It was about
four miles off.


709







THAT BIRD.


"Come away! cried Jack, excitedly; "may
be we can catch up with Beppe yet! "
Off again we rushed, and soon reached the pub-
lic road leading to Pistoja. We had n't gone far
down this, when, turning round a sharp corner, we
found ourselves face to face with Beppe, on his
way back from town, with an empty cage in his
hand.
Our inquiries were very hasty, and not very
gentle, I am afraid. When Beppe heard that the
mocking-bird was Jack's, he declared over and over
again that he was very sorry, but that he had sold
it to a bird-fancier in Pistoja.
We had no time to waste in useless talk; so,
after getting the address of the bird-fancier, we
started off again on our journey. It was nearly
two o'clock in the afternoon when we reached the
city ; and when at last we found the bird-fancier,
it was only to renew our disappointment. He told
us that the bird seemed to be of so rare and so
valuable a species (indeed, he had never seen any-
thing of the kind before),, that he had sent it
off on the twelve o'clock train to his cousin in
Florence, where it would be sure to fetch a high
price. All that he could do, therefore, under
the circumstances, was to take the address of his
cousin.
Now, look here, bub," said Jack, impressively,
after we had left the store, "I want to ask a favor
of you. Just you go to Florence,-there 's a good
fellow,-and hunt up that bird-fancier, and buy or
steal the bird from him. Never mind what you
have to pay for him,-I '11 give it back to you. I
don't want father to know anything about this,
else I 'd go myself. Besides, you live in Florence,
and know the place better than I do. Wont you
go, now? "
Of course I would. I was only too delighted at
the idea of such a lark. We learned at the station
that the next train would start at 4 P. M., and we
spent the mean while in getting a dinner at the
chief restaurant of the place.
Compared to our American locomotives, the
Italian ones are rather slow affairs; so that it took
me about an hour and a-half to reach Florence,
although only twenty miles from Pistoja.
I soon found the store to which I had been di-
rected. A snuffy old gentleman with colored spec-
tacles over his eyes, whom I rightly judged to be
the proprietor, was walking up and down the store,
and to him I addressed myself. Was he the per-
son to whom a bird had been sent to-day from
Pistoja ?
The old gentleman took off his spectacles, wiped
them carefully, placed them on his nose again,
took a good look at me, and then said yes, he was
the person.


Could he please let me look at it ? Certainly
not. It had been sold.
Sold ? I cried aghast.
Yes, sold," repeated the old gentleman.
Can you-can you tell me whom you sold it
to ? I asked timidly.
Yes, Signorino,-I sold it to a young foreigner
who lives at Number Via Larga."
"Number Via Larga! I exclaimed.
" What was the name-Jones ? "
Yes, Chones, that was the name. You know
him ?"
Know him? I should think I did! Why, it
was my old friend Tom Jones, whom I had known
almost since I could remember anything. I has-
tily left the store, called a passing cab, and
ordered the driver to take me to Number Via
Larga.
Arriving there, I was ushered into the parlor by
the servant, and the next minute was joined by my
friend Tom.
Hello, old boy said he (everybody's an old
boy with juvenile John Bulls, or else an "old
chap," or an "old fellow "). "Thought you were
up at Jack Hill's."
Yes, so I was," said I, but- "
Talking of the Hills," interrupted Tom, do
you know I bought a mocking-bird just like Jack's,
to-day, and --"
"A mocking-bird ? Just what I've come to see
you about, Tom "
"What do you mean? Look here, you aint
really going to tell me that was Jack's bird, are
you ? "
Yes, it was I cried eagerly.
Good gracious! You don't say so! Why, it
-it's gone!"
"Gone "
"Yes, gone! I'm afraid you'll never see that
bird again! "
"Why, Tom! what made you-how in the
world did it get away ? "
"Well, look here, see that cage ?"
"Yes, I do; but, O Tom! you did n't put the
mocking-bird in there, did you? "
Yes, I did," said Tom, moodily.
Why, that must be a poll parrot's cage See
how far apart the wires are. Of course a mocking-
bird could squeeze through them "
"Well, I didn't know. 'T was the only cage I
had, and I did n't dream that the bird would get
through. It did, though. I'd no sooner put it
into the cage than-than it was out again; and it
just whizzed through the open window like light-
ning."
"Well," said I, after some moments' reflection,
"I don't see that there 's anything more to be


7Io


[SEPTEMBER,








185]IWODR WY


done now. Guess I 'll go home and get my sup-
per."
Tom pressed me to stay and sup with him, but I
concluded I'd go home. I wanted to surprise the
folks there. I didn't surprise them, however, as
much as I had expected; for, after the first greet-
ings were over, they told me that they had sup-


posed I must be on my way back to Florence, as a
telegram had come for me from Jack Hill.
"A telegram from Jack Hill I cried,-" let's
see it."
It was handed to me, and I read as follows:
Bird's come back. Eugenio caught it in the
garden."


I WONDER WHY.

BY MARY A. LATHBURY.

I WONDER why
The white clouds stay up in the sky !
The birds light low that fly so fast;
The downy thistle falls at last;
But the fair clouds are always high.
I wonder why!


I wonder how
,. The little bird clings to its bough!
':i, / Sometimes at night when I awake
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71


74. J-1 F.


875.]


I WONDER WHY.






FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS. [SEPTEMBER,


A SHORT-LIVED FAMILY.

BY MARY L. B. BRANCH.

I HEARDI little Gerty talking very earnestly over by the window-seat,
and I looked around from my sewing just in time to see six as handsome
blackberries as ever grew, standing in a group in the window. Gerty
had grouped them. The two biggest and blackest were Mr. and Mrs.


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AUNT MARIA FALLS ON THE FLOOR.


Jetty, and one that did not stand straight was Aunt Maria Jetty. Then
there were Bob and Tom, and -the smallest blackberry, which kept rolling
over, was the Baby. Gerty did the talking for all of them. Tom seemed
to be a naughty boy.
I shall have to punish that boy !" said Mr. Jetty, sternly. He never
learns his lessons !"
O, well !" said Mrs. Jetty, "perhaps the lessons were too hard. Tom,
what on earth are you doing now ? Pinching the Baby! Mr. Jetty, if
you don't whip that boy, I will 1"
Here Aunt Maria fell on the floor, and was found to have fainted.


712





1875.1 FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS. 713

Great was the outcry among the Jettys, large and small, until she was
lifted up and set on her feet again.
Never-mind-me !" she said, faintly. Look at-the Baby!"
Sure enough, the Baby had rolled over and over till it.was on the very
edge of the sill. It was snatched up, and handed to Bob to hold. Bob
seemed to be a good boy; he sang Rockaby, Baby!" all through, while
Tom had his ears boxed for tittering.
Then Mr. Jetty said that the family ought to take a walk. They were
all formed in a procession, the smallest being last. I watched them as
they started off along the window-seat, the first one taking a step, then
the next one, and so on. Then I bent my eyes upon my sewing again,,
but still I heard the play go on.
Presently, in at the sitting-room door came little Susy Blake, a neigh-
bor's child, to play an hour with Gerty. So Gerty told her all about the
six blackberries, and what their names were, and what they were doing.
0, that's real fun," said Susy; "I can play that too!"
So, then, both little girls went on with the sport, and made the Jetty
family say and do all sorts of funny things. Aunt Maria kept fainting
away, and the children made a good deal of trouble, so there was a con-
stant excitement. Right in the midst of it, Gerty's mamma called from
upstairs :
Gerty, Gerty, come up here quick, and try on your dress!"
I '11 be right back in a minute, Susy," said Gerty as she left the
room. You keep on playing till I come back."
So Susy kept on playing, and now she had to do all the talking for
the Jetty family herself. They seemed to be having a great dispute about
something, but one by one the voices of the younger ones were silenced.
Something was said about their being put to bed. Finally, it struck me
that I had not heard Aunt Maria make any complaint for a good while.
SMr. and Mrs. Jetty seemed to be having it all to themselves, till at last
Mr. Jetty stopped, as if tired out, and his wife had the last word.
"I did n't mean to be gone so long," said Gerty, who came back into
the room at this moment. I can't bear to try on dresses. Why-why-
why, Susy Blake !"
And then she ran to me, crying.
Cousin Mary !" she sobbed, she's eaten them all up! Mr. Jetty
and Mrs. Jetty, and Aunt Maria, and Bob, and Tom, and the Baby !"
I turned my eyes toward the window-seat. There was not a black-
berry left to tell the tale. But Susy's lips were all stained with purple









714 JACK I N THE PULPIT.


'2


Ii I

..'-. .~


SCHOOL'S IN my dears, or soon will be-and
who's sorry? Not I. Nor are you. For there has
been a grand Summer play-time, and now Autumn
winds begin to cool the air and flutter the leaves of
books invitingly. Your Jack has heard-O, so
many wonderful things this Summer! and you
shall be told them all, in time. No matter how he
has heard them, so that they are true and worth
hearing, and the young folk are ready to listen.
Dear, dear What an astonishing world this is,
and how busy we Jacks-in-pulpits are from morning
till night, with the heaps and heaps that have to be
told Gather close, my chicks, and I '11 tell you
about
DUMB DOGS.

WHAT 'S the use of a dog that can't bark? It
seems that on the Guinea Coast there is a race of
dogs that are absolutely dumb. The bird that told
me does not know whether or not they are good
watch-dogs. Guesses not. Perhaps they don't
bark because they've nothing to watch I heard
a sailor say that once a few dogs of the barking
kind were left on the desert island of Juan Fer-
nandez. Thirty-three years afterward, when the
original dogs were dead, and their descendants had
all grown wild, not one of the wild dogs could
bark. Then some of them were taken away to
another country by sailors, and behold! after a
time they began to gain their voices, and bark like
common dogs. This sounds like a hard story, and
I'll not say yea or nay to it, though it was told to
me as a truth that had been endorsed by Mr.
Darwin.
ALL SORTS OF HAIRS.

I SUPPOSE you youngsters think that all hairs
are alike, except as to color ; but that is only be-


S .. i .


4 1 I" h-



-" ,.
,-' t-' %,,I" "L .'.


-. I 1
-


JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


714


cause your eyes are not very sharp. If your eyes
were as sharp as a microscope, you could tell from
the tiniest slice of a hair whether it grew on a boy
or a quadruped, and what quadruped. A human
hair, I am told, looks, in that searching little instru-
ment, like a hollow tube, quite transparent, and
marked with irregular lines around it. On looking
very closely, these lines are seen to be the ends of
separate surface-coats, or bark of the hair. Think
of your hairs having bark Inside the thin, scaly
covering is a fibrous substance, from the bulb where
it begins, to the point. The color of the hair is de-
cided by the color of the fluid that fills this trans-
parent tube. A cat's hair looks, under the prying
microscope, like the trunk of an old, rough palm-
tree; while a bat's hair resembles flowers of a
trumpet shape, stuck into each other to form a
chain. A bat from India has the trumpet-shaped
cups expanded very wide, and notched on the edge.
Hair from the head of a bee is pointed and set with
short hairs standing straight out from the stem;
and the hairs of a caterpillar are like stout, horny
rods, drawn to a point and set with spines on each
side.
This is very queer; but there 's another thing
about it. If the hairs of sheep, and other animals
whose hair is used in manufactures, had not rough
scales which clasp and mat together, they could not
be made into felting. That is what makes broad-
cloth and other woolen cloth so firm and strong.

DOGS THAT GO "A-CRABBING."
JACK bears all sorts of queer things. Listen to
this true story : At low tide, on the coast of Terra
del Fuego (and perhaps on some other coasts),
crabs hide themselves under the loose stones that
are scattered thickly over the beach. Here they
lie carelessly, not dreaming of danger, waiting for
high tide. In the meantime the dogs come look-
ing for their dinners. With one fore-paw they
turn over a stone, and with the other knock out
the astonished crab. The dogs have to be quick
about it, too, for if the crab has time to think, he
grasps the stone so closely with his claws that the
dog cannot get him off, without greater trouble
than the dinner would be worth.

BIRDS AT SEA.
HERE is something that will specially interest
the Bird-defenders. It comes to Jack from a friend
of ST. NICHOLAS crossing the Atlantic in the good
ship Wisconsin."
We are in sight of land," he writes; it is early morning, and
gulls already are coming to meet us-British birds, fresh front the
green shores, with a confident, near-home air about them. But it is
different with those that venture far out at sea. A few days ago
(almost in mid-ocean), a tired land bird lit on the vessel, rested for a
few moments, and then resumed his flight. It was plain that the
brave little thing knew it had hard work before it. On one trip two
small birds followed the ship for days, until one of them dropped ex-
hausted into the sea. Instantly the other flew to the vessel, and fell
at the captain's feet. He took it up tenderly, carried it into the cabin,
and put it on the table. The passengers gathered around and gave
it water; it drank as though famishing with thirst. Then they fed it
with bread crumbs; the bird ate eagerly and thrived well, but never
from that moment seemed to have e slightest fear of anybody on
board. When the ship neared land he flew away.







JACK-TIN -THE -PULPIT


"This reminds me of another incident for your young folks. At
Lafayette, Indiana, at the beginning of the war, a regiment of soldiers
encamped on a hill overlooking the town, and it was found that a
sparrow's nest was within the very heart of the camp. Whatever
may have become of the male bird, the mother staid and raised her
brood. The soldiers put a few stakes around the nest, which was on
the ground, and I often saw the mother-bird coming and going, un-
disturbed by the camp-fires, the roll of the drum, or the discharge of
musketry."
Those were brave soldiers, I'll be bound, or they
would not have been so gentle. I like to think of
the stanch, gruff fellows with tenderness in their
hearts for the helpless little family in their midst-
don't you ?
As for those little bird-passengers on the great
ship, that flew away rejoicing when they saw land,
what a good account of mankind they carried into
the hedges and tree-tops How ready they must
be, among their fellows, to contradict all evil re-
ports against human beings, and what a lesson
they teach us !
We are all sailing along in a sort of ship-the
ship of life-and every day, weary souls, worn out
in hopeless wandering, are falling upon the deck.
If we are kind and gentle, and help them find the
way, it may be they will come to be trustful and
strong, fearing no one on board, and ready to take
wing in joy and 1i-1,.1- .; ;i ." when Land comes in
sight.
ON THE EDGE OF A SHOWER.

DID any of you ever stand on the edge of a
shower ? It should not be a very rare event; for,
as in these days nobody can say that it ever rains
all over the earth at the same time, every shower
must have an edge somewhere. Here is a good
letter which has just come to me from a New York
boy, who knows all about it:
DEAR JACKI: Last evening we all witnessed a very beautiful sight.
At 6.30, when the sun was about to set, a long, narrow cloud passed
across from south to north. Soon it settled in a sullen way, and pre-
pared for business-sending down torrents of rain. West of Avenue
A, and reaching to about Third Avenue, the rain was coming down
fearfully; beyond that all was clear. The sun shining on the rain-
drops gave them the appearance of silver; but on the side where we
were, the line formed by the rain on the walk all along Avenue A was
perfectly -. .:l.i ...1- 1-..o as one could have made it with a mop
and pail. ii .. -..- I. i-. ust outside of the line would run in and
out as though it were a shower-bath. This lasted fifteen minutes,
while we fellows were all on the street perfectly dry, looking at people
up the street cuddling under stoops and umbrellas, or running at full
speed. Suddenly the wind changed, and lo! before we dry ones
could reach a place of shelter, every one was thoroughly soaked.
Yours, A. R. D.

AMONG THE LEAVES.
WHO can find me, this September, an elm-tree
leaf that is of the same size and shape on each side
of its center rib ? Who can send me two elm-tree
leaves, or two oak leaves, exactly alike in size and
shape ?
NURSE APPLEBY.
SOMEBODY in the South sends your Jack this
little picture of an old colored woman, drawn from
life:
Dear old Nurse Appleby-with her clean ging-
ham gown, her smooth check apron, and her gay
cotton headkerchief tied in a jaunty knot over her
forehead! How heartsome, fresh, and proud she


looks, sitting there with young Missus's baby in her
arms She and her husband have their own home,
now, with their children about them; but she is
always ready to lend a hand in sickness or trouble,
or when a new baby in '"the family" needs her
skillful and tender care. She was a slave until the
war freed her, but all her life she seems to have
seen only the bright side of her condition.
Last evening she sat by our nursery-fire rocking
baby to sleep. The door was opened to admit the
washerwoman, a very black negress, who entered
with a heavy basket on her head, which she wearily
deposited on the floor, and then, with a sigh of
relief, made her hasty exit. Nursey listened to the
retreating footsteps, then turning to me said, "Well
ma'm, she's one of the free-born. Don't she look
like it, poor, worn out, unlikely thing, that never
had any massa or missis to take care of her when
she was sick, but just.bound, best part of her life to
the hardest kind of work, to support them lazy
husband and children o' hern?
Yes, she belongs to them kind of stuck up
darkies, that holds themselves so proud because
they was always free, that they call the rest of us,
them cut loose niggers." Then, with an indignant
toss of her turbaned head, Nurse Appleby adds:
" Umph they can talk big, but what kind of
raising have they had? Aint they been knocking
round all their lives? while we've been dressing
decent, and living comfortable, and I'm sure I can
count my family for generations back, that's been
born and raised with aristocracy white folks. And
old missis is here yet to prove that, and if the
property is all gone, aint there enough of us, and
the white family, still left, to show our raising, and
to let folks see what the Macphersons and Creigh-
tons have been," and with another lofty toss of her
head, she resumed her lullaby, settling herself into
a state of complete satisfaction.

A CURRANT-BUSH IN A LOCUST-TREE.

THERE was once a locust-tree close by our
meadow, and in the top of that locust-tree was a
fine little currant-bush in full bearing What do
you think of that, my chicks ? The birds thought
very well of it, I assure you. The fruit was a little
sour, to be sure, but then it was their very own.
No human hand ever touched it. How it came to
be up so high Jack cannot tell you, but he thinks
the birds must have carried up the seed one fine
day, and, lodging in a crotch of the tree by one of
the dead branches, it found there enough mold or
dust, or whatever it may be, to give it root-hold
and nourishment. At any rate, there it was-a
pretty little white currant-bush-till it died a natu-
ral death alone in the bleak Autumn wind.
This is not the only instance of the kind. I 'm
told that in Massachusetts, not many miles from
Boston, there 's a noble elm with a red-currant
bush growing high up, just where the branches join
the main trunk. It bears fruit every season, bright
clusters of rubies glowing in the sun. Just imagine
how the Robin-Aladdins feel when they come upon
this jewel bush in the early morning !









TIIE LETTER-BOX [SEPTEMBER;





THE LETTER-BOX.


To THE BIRD-DEFENDERS: The names received since our last
number (when, you may rcmermbe, we published nearly three pages
of them) will be printed in our next issue, the October number, which
will be the last of the volume. There are no Bird-defenders' names in
this number.

Brooklyn, May 2o, 1875.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: In reading the "Letter-Box" of your
magazine, I see a v. r ': .. 1 and so I will ask these
two: How do you i i man beings? and, what
are the dimensions of the temple of Diana, and where was it situated ?
JoHN WARD.
In answer to John's first question, the human skin is composed of
three layers, and the cells of the middle layer contain a secretion (or
pigment, as it is called) from which the skin takes its color. All the
hues of the different races of men depend on the comparative abun-
dance of these cells and on the color of the pigment enclosed by them,
This color-layer of the skin is only slightly developed in the white
race, but very distinct and thick in the darker ones.
As for the temple of Diana, it was situated at Ephesus, and was
justly co:-.icred one of the seven wonders of the world, for the
magnificent edifice was more than two hundred years in building.
Its dimensions were 425 feet long by 2oo broad. The roof was sup-
ported by 227 columns sixty feet high, and placed there by as many
kings. The temple contained immense riches,.and the godness to
whom it was dedicated was worshiped with great suletmity by the
Ephesians.

THIS is such a good rhyming version of" Rhyming Play" that we
give it entire:
ANswER TO RHYMING PLAY."
With little change of text, I may
Make answer to the rhyming play.
In all varieties, the rose
Is far the queenliest flower that blows.
In fragrance, the sweet garden pink
Is hard to be surpassed, I think.
To find a flower that rhymes with Willie,
We name at once the gorgeous lily.
King Solomon in all his glory
Equals not these, says sacred story.
Fourth, with the handsome, graceful fuchsia,
We rhyme the little Western Jooshia.
And next, the delicate verbena,
So perfectly is rhymed with Lena.
'Tis well to seek the mignonette
Where all the sweetest flowers are set.
Beneath the base the flat, square plinth
Is placed, and rhymes with hyacinth.
We start with A and end with L,
To find the yellow asphodel.
The "Ursa Major" of the "Dipper"
Could not put on a lady-slipper.
To find the magic four-leaved clover,
Fair maidens roam the meadows over.
With musk-rose and sweet eglantine,
Shakespeare has linked the rare woodbine.
This also comes from W. S.,
The odd name, love-in-idleness.
I do not find a rhyme for Cyrus,
Unless you will admit the iris.
We fitly rhyme the fair japonica,
Changing the accent in Salonica.
The flower with open mouth, snap-dragon,
Does very well to rhyme with wagon.


It is unwise to pick a thistle,
And hard to make a pigtail whistle.
A Scotchman for our much says muckle
Which is a rhyme for honeysuckle.
In tint the dainty lavender
Matches the gloves that some prefer.
A flower has gained the name pond-lily,
That rises from the waters still.
The timid, wild wood violet
Is called the poet's modest pet.


E. S. L.


MR. HASKINS, Commander-in-Chiefof the Army of Bird-defenders,
sends us a bird's nest which suggests a very peculiar story. The
nest itself is an ordinary one, built last year, and in it is a dead bird-
nothing now but a skeleton and a few feathers. The cause of its
death is very apparent. The nest is partly made of horse-hair and
threads, and in these the poor bird had become so entangled that it
was impossible for it to get out, and there it staid and died, and there
it is yet.
It is not a full-grown bird, but it is not a very small one, and so it
is possible that it lived in the nest some time after it became fastened,
and that its parents brought it food with the others until they grew
large enough to leave the nest, and that they then all left except this
poor bird who could not go, and who staid there and died !
Mr. Haskins also writes as follows:

W. F. Bundy, of Jefferson, Wisconsin, says that the rose-breasted
grosbeak, whose hard name is Goniaphea Ludoviciana, eats the
Colorado bug, and that the farmers hold these birds in great favor,
and are very careful to prevent their destruction.
If there had been no quails or prairie-chickens killed in the grass-
hopper region for the past two years, would n't the farmers have been
much better off?

Bangor, Maine.
DEAR ST NICHOLAS: I would like to know if you give premiums
to those who get subscribers to the magazine ? "VIRGIL."
Yes, we will send you a premium list if you will send us your name
and address.


WE HAVE received a little book about two inches square, called the
"Sad Story of Baby Rose," by Bessie R-. The author's mother
writes this note about it:

OUR DEAR DELIGHTFUL FRIEND ST. NICHOLAS:
A few weeks ago my little Bessie-eight years old-came shyly
bringing me a neat manuscript with ornamented title-page, saying
it was a story she had written for papa. Upon inquiring of her
little brother and playmate, I found she had written it that afternoon
in the nursery, quite "out of her own head," as another and more
knowing Bessie has put it As this is our Bessie's first essay in this
kind of composition, her papa printed it on his little office press,
and almost overwhelmed the modest authoress a few days there-
after with the view of a real book by her own little self.

We print the contents of the book in full:
Once upon a time, there was a little girl whose mother thought
her the best child in all the world. Rose was her name.
Now, my dear little readers, I will begin.
Rose was born on Christmas, in the year 1873. Now, of course, I
must tell you that Rose's loving mother thought her a little jewel
then as much as your mother did when you were born. When Rose's
mamma saw a little baby lying in her lap she jumped for joy. She
took her and put on her a white frock and a little embroidered sack,
and then she gave her some breakfast.
Now her mamma said that she would teach Rose to be good and
truthful. Rose grew and grew every day. When Rose was only
two months and one week old her mamma was gone out to visit her
grandma and left Rose playing on the bed, with her nurse to look
after her. After a little while her nurse put her on the floor to play
till she came back from seeing some one in the kitchen. Her nurse
ought to have known better than to leave Rose near the stairs, but
she did not. So very soon Rose, who did not want to stay at the







1875.] THE LETTER-BOX.


stairs any longer, began to cry, and then the nurse came, took her
up, and gave her a cruel whipping as hard as she could with a horse-
whip all over her body, having taken off everything Rose had on
while she was whipping her, and after the nurse had done whipping
her she took baby by the hands and feet and threw her over the stair-
case. The nurse then put on her hat and went out.
Rose's mamma came in just at this time and saw her darling lying
there on the floor, quite dead, as she supposed, and she ran and told
her husband. He came and ran for the doctor. The doctor came at
once and took Rose upon his knee and said she was fatally injured.
Then Rose's loving mamma tenderly washed and bound up her cuts
and her bruises and put her into her own soft bed. Then she sat
down by her and never left her while she lived. Rose never got
well, though she got some better and was able to sit up, but one
morning she was very bad and suffered dreadfully.
Toward night Rose lifted up her hands and said I am dying,"
and at eleven o'clock that night she died.
It was a great grief to her mamma, and after the funeral her mamma
took sick and died of grief.
My little readers, you ought to be glad that you did not die so
young, and be glad that you did not have such a wicked nurse that
caused first the death of pretty little Rose, and second her dear
mamma's death, who, as I said before, died of grief at losing her
darling baby Rose.
My little readers, I will now tell you what became of Rose's ugly
and wicked nurse. One day Rose's father met the nurse in the
street, and spoke kindly, and he said to her, "Miss Miller, I am very
sorry you killed my little darling child and caused the death of my
dear wife. I ask you nowto come home with me." And Miss Miller
said, "I will, my dear Mr. Lane," and so she did. Then Mr. Lane
went right off and called a policeman and brought him home, and
the policeman took bliss Miller and led her off to prison, where she
was to be beheaded the next day, and when the morning dawned she
was very much frightened, but they came up to her and took her to
a room and laid her down, then they lifted the axe and let it fall and
she was dead. And that was the end of that wicked nurse.
Soon afterward Mr. Lane married -=4 .-.I had many other little
girls and boys, but he never forgot, it. -1 ., I -., either his own dar-
ling baby Rose or her dear and loving mother.


Highland Park, Ill., July ist, 1875.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I read "Jack-in-the-Pulpit's" article on
Gray's telephone, in which I was very much interested, as Mr. Gray
lives next door to me, and I am well acquainted with him and his
family. I have heard the telephone, and I can tell you it is splendid.
-Yours always, K. E. B.
K. E. B. also sends a poem.

A LAMENT.


I have a dog--
From very shame
I hesitate
To tell his name.

His form is lean,
And slim and tall;
His lungs are very
Far from small.

This dreadful cur,
I'd have you know,


Doth follow me
Where'er i go.

To church, to school,
At play, at home,
Until I vow
I'II no more roam.

0, prithee show
To me the spot
Where I can be
And he cannot.


Philadelphia, June 16, 1875.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I heard recently a remarkable and beautiful
bird-story, which I thought yo ..... l1,' ...-. worth giving to your
young readers, especially the I....1 i..i ..... Its truth is vouched
for by a gentleman who saw the proceeding.
On a large tree near a country-house, a pair of robins had built a
nest, and were caring for four little robins, whose heads could often
be seen above the edge of the nest. One morning, from some un-
known cause, both the parent birds were found dead at the foot of the
tree, and away up in the nest the little orphans were lifting up their
heads and "piping," as if asking for food. What could be done for
them? T'h- 1 1.r. full view, it was almost impossible to reach the
nest. ". -.. i I-. I lks of the house were trying to solve the problem,
a wren was seen to light on the edge of the nest, and, after remaining
apparently just long enough to take in the "situation," fly away.
A ch wa s kept, and the wren soon returned with some food in its
mouth, and fed the four helpless robins. It returned during the day
on the same mission, and from that time until the birds were able to
leave the nest it was often observed ministering to their wants.
NORTH."

CAN any of our boys or girls tell us why a ship crossing the Atlan-
tic, and sailing in a straight line from New York to Liverpool, would
sail one hundred miles farther than a ship sailing from New York to
Liverpool on a curved line curving up toward the north ?


JAMES S. wants to know why Baltimore was so called, and if there
is any other Baltimore in the Old World ? Some of you surely can
tell him.

F. R. F., who for many years has lived in the East, writes as fol-
lows about kites in that part of the world :
Kite-flying is not a boyish sport in Eastern lands, but a pastime of
the fathers, while the sons look on and enjoy merely seeing the fun.
Rich old merchants, dignified inlge ind gray-haired grandfathers
will spend whole afternoons ,... J.... Ii. ascent of their kites, while
their boys are the most interested spectators, looking yearningly for-
ward to the period when they shall inherit, with other honors of ma-
turity, the privilege of flying their own kites.
But, then, these Oriental kites are not ordinary affairs of paste and
paper, such as make glad the hearts four juveniles. They are very
marvels of skill and inventiveness, and of every conceivable form,
size, and material. Their forms are those of all manner of insects,
flowers, birds, fishes, and reptiles, as well as of gods and goddesses,
angels and demons, while not a few represent beings unknown in air,
earth, or sea, heaven or hell. Some are of huge dimensions, com-
posed of oiled silk painted in various shades to depict stone, slate,
tiles, brick, wood, iron, glass, and silver; and are fashioned in the
form of castles, palaces, c r T- .I adorned with spires and turrets,
vaulted domes, arches '.. i i windows. These are lighted by
tapers or miniature lamps, that fiequcntly set fire to the thin, com-
bustible material, and ultimately consume these fairy palaces, or "air
castles," as they may well be called. The conflagration occupies but
a few minutes, but it is beautiful while it lasts.
Occasionally, a group of kites will be seen as an immense bird sur-
rounded by a whole train of hawks, and all skillfully guided by a
single string. Some represent an immense bouquet of flowers; some
a tree with foliage, blossoms and fruit, all true to nature-the fruit
containing rockets that explode with a loud report; and some make
their appearance as lanterns, balloons, or fire-wheels, the spokes of
the last being lighted by transparencies in which are confined living
fire-flies. Others are in the form of huge diagons, eagles, vultures,
flying serpents, and such like monsters, real and imaginary. Even
our own species has its representatives in kites, sometimes as a fierce-
looking giant armed with spear or battle-axe, and again as a beautiful
maiden in shining robes and flowing hair. So very skillfully are
these enormous kites managed, that a sort of aerial game is sometimes
played, in which three, four, or perhaps twice that number of kites
are engaged.
Kites are in vogue at only e season of the year; but then there
is a perfect rage for them, and the number that go whizzing past one's
ears, or soaring gallantly in the clouds, would seem incredible to one
who had never witnessed the novel spectacle of a thousand huge kites
floating simultaneously above the spires and turrets of a great city.
Occasionally, even princes and nobles condescend to indulge in this
exhilarating sport; but in such cases, the kites are always sent up
from the domes or turrets of their own palaces, and they so far excel
in size and splendor those of the common people as to prove that,
even in his amusements, the man of rank does not forget the wide
distance between a prince and a peasant.

Stamford, June ir.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Will I have to kill my cats if I am a Bird-
defender? Ifso, 1 will not be one. If not, will you please to put
my name down on your list. -Your gratified reader,
KITTIE WARREN.
All right, Kittie, keep your cat.

HERE is an account of an old church from a little girl in Arizona.
We have so few ancient buildings in our country that we ought to
take an interest in this.
SAN XAVIER.
Now, I am afraid some of your readers vill look at the heading ot
this and say, Oh, that is not worth reading. Arizona is only made
of Indians and sand !"
It is true Arizona has a great deal of sand, and a great many In-
dians; but there are other things there too. Oh, my, yes! a great
many interesting things there, among which is Sail Xavier. San
Xavier, you must first know, was built many, many years before you,
or your father, or even his father, were born-in fact, almost two
hundred years ago-by a company of Jesuit missionaries from Spain,
who came and settled in Arizona, where they built a great many of
these missions as they are called), and some of them are very hand-
some, but uwith only one, however, have we anything to do. This
one is situated nine miles frdm Tucson. On approaching it from
that quarter it looks very pretty, with its tall unfinished domes (for it
was never finished), of stone and red brick-the latter brought from
Spain-extending high up in the sunlight.
Now, walk with me up to the door, where a dozen or so half-
dressed Appapagocs stand asking for "miuckamuck (something to
eat). You enter, and you feel almost as though you were going into
nome vault, it is so cold and damp. On taking a few steps forward,
that feeling changes to one of wonder and awe. You find yourself







THE RIDDLE-BOX.


in a large room, where the stone floor is painted in curious style.
The ceiling where you stand is about forty feet, for over your head
is a place for the choir. On going further we come upon a figure of
Christ in the sepulchre, with the crown of thorns on his head, and
the blood trickling down his face. It looks very life-like. All around
this are pictures of the saints. Over the altar is one of St. Peter,
which looks very ludicrous. He has on a long cloak which comes
down to his feet, and a small hat on his head.
Now, after looking at these things, step with me into the vestry.
Here are robes that were worn two hundred years ago by priests who
have long since turned to dust. Here also are the silver pitcher and
plate for holding the blessed sacrament. Now, come back through
the church, climb the old dark stairs, go into the belfry, and look
upon those ancient chimes whose tones rang out on thl still Summer
morning two hundred years ago, calling to mass the builders of this
ancient pile of masonry. S. L. R.

THE translation of the Latin story in our July number will appear
next month. We give plenty of time to our young Latin translators.


A LADY sends us the following account of a little bird-mother who
suffered death rather than desert her children :
A little bird (a wren) built its nest in a rose-bush by the piazza, at
the corner of the house near the eave-spout. It had laid its eggs and
hatched them, when one night there came up a rain, which, running
from the spout, drowned the bird-as she, rather than forsake her
duty, had staid to shield her brood. In the morning, when the lady
went to look at the nest, there sat the bird motionless, with wings
outspread in protection over it, both the mother-bird and little ones
dead!


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I know a great many stories about chickens
-true ones I mean. Once we had an old turkey gobbler and some
hens. One of the hens had young ones-I don't remember how
many, but she had quite a good many. Well, in some way she got
killed, and there were all those little turkeys We did n't know what
to do; but the old gobbler came to the rescue. He took care of them
until they grew so large that they only could stand around him and
poke their heads under him.
Once there was a hen with chickens, and she saw a fish-line stand-
ing by the kitchen door, and swallowed the hook. They had to kill
her, and a rooster took care of the little chicks.
There were two hens sitting on one nest. Well, they came offwith
only one chicken. By and by, these hens got tired of running around
with that one chick, and so they went off. I suppose one hen thought
the other could take care of it, and the other thought so too, if hens
think at all. They had a hen in a coop, shut up because they did n't
want her to set. She took that little chicken, and took care of it. I
know of a rooster that took care of chickens, too.
FANNIE HUNT.

IN addition to that published last month, we here give another list
of names of boys and girls who have sent answers to the Rhyming
Play in the June number: Horace P. Taylor, Mary Brodnax, Anna
Palen, Mark W. C., Amy Waters, Cora Mabel Wesley, Leilly B.
Dresser, Mary F. Wallace, Alice T. Walker, Cora E. Everett, Win-
nie Gould, Mary Billin, Hannah Rollins, Edith S. Tufts, Harry
Thiers, Nellie C. Beckwith, Willie M. Burton, Frances Hersh, Gracie
Bigelow, Julia Reno, Julia Sanford, Mollie Willett, Fannie Lelloir
Russell, John R. Eldridge, Louise R. Canby, Nettle Starkweather,
Ida Cronsch, Nellie Chase, Dollie Carrick, Violet Beach, Mary Mor-
ris Jones, Hattie M. Newton, Amy Hicks, and George Hicks.


THE RIDDLE-BOX.

EASY METAGRAIM.


WHOLE, I am a drunkard. Change my head, and I
am a bed; change again, and I am a man mentioned in
the Bible; again, and I am to decay; again, and I am
a negative; again, and I am warm ; again, and I am a
small mark; again, and I am to write down hastily.
M. A.J.
BEHEADED tRHYMES.
As Kate was just about to ,
She found she 'd quite forgot her -,
Made with all culinary -
By her old friend the cook.
So catching it from off her ,
In fear lest she should be -,
All down the street she ran, and -
How greedy she did look! A. 3. c.

RIDDLE.
MY whole is the name of a bird. From it make (I)
the generic name of the animal it lives on; (2) the name
of one species of it; (3) an organ of its body; (4) the
state it must be in when cooked for man, unless packed
for market, and then (5) the name of a vessel it is often
packed in; (6) an instrument used in preparing it for
the cook; (7) what the cook does to it, and (8) what it
is done over; (9) what the man is called who obtains
it; and (1o) something he frequently uses in taking it.
J. P. B.
TRIANSPOSITIONS.
HERE are some of tie signs in a certain queer little
village. Who can read them?
I. Lairot. 2. Stinted. 3. Torcod. 4. Nelmiril. 5.
Gurd-Tores. 6. Ricesorge. 7. Toifecopsf. 8. Hacs-
Rotes. 9. Ryd-Dogos. POI

I AM composed of fourteen letters. My 2, 5, I, 9 is to
incline. My 3, I, to is an article used by ladies. My
11, 8, I, 4 is a period of time. My 7, 5, I is what some
people drink. My 13, Io, 8 is a number. My 3, I, 14,
o1, ii is a girl's name. My nI, 13, 9, 6, 8, 4 is an ad-
verb. My 7,5, 14 is number. My 12, I, 9, 13, 6 is
a kind of council. My 7, 11, 4, 13, 2 is a small province
in Europe. My 7, II, 4, 14, 7 is a cruel ruler. My
whole is a distinguished poet. M. A. J.

CHARADE, No. 1.
MY first once roamed where grows my whole,
Brave, warlike, wild and free;
Often my second served for food,
In Winter you may see.
My whole (that part beneath the ground)
Once taste, and you will say
The horrid thing had better be
A thousand miles away.
Yet, from the earth, in beauty rare,
Its blossom greets your eye,
And neathh a broidered canopy
Welcomes the passer-by.
And seek it (with its prettier name),
Your fireside it will greet,
And once a month will bring to you
A sure and pleasant treat. B.

DOUBLE ACROSTIC.
FOUNDATION words: A continent and a monarchy.
Cross words: I. A fruit. 2. A biped. 3. Stopping. 4.
Name of a great painter. 5. One of the United States.
6. A country in Asia. 7. A conjunction. D. H.


718


[SEPTEMBER,


ENIGIIA.






THE RIDDLE-BOX.


REBUS.
(The solution consists of a few lines from Tennyson's poem of "The Princess.")


i- I

i-_i t{; ac
....... -- __


.i~ ix
r -' ii I ,.-:? .='_2 .. ... .


--~--'C


9



'UT


WORD-SQUARE.
I. A MODEST flower. 2. A sweet perfume. 3. An
order of column in architecture. 4. A worker in metal.
5. A small boat. POLK.
CHARADE, No. 2.
THREE little words, if rightly used,
Will most correctly tell
For what I long, when thinking of
The maid I love so well.
And should that wish be gratified,
Those three words, joined in one,
Will show you what my love and I
Would be, ere set of sun. A. s.

ELLIPSES.
FILL the blanks with the same word, one of which is
a girl's name:
I. spent six months in 2. -- screwed
up her face as she ate a pickled --. 3. When -
was in India she bought a toy for an 4. -- went
with a nun through the entire 5. always
-- early. 6. -- was shown to her room by the --
7. dyed her ribbons with -- 8. replied
with a brilliant that charmed him. 9. was
fond of cloves, but she did not know the tree that pro-
duced them belonged to the genus -- o. re-
membered hearing her father play the-- I. -
consulted the secretly. 12. presented the
crown to the May queen with exquisite --. 13. -
rode to the park in a -- .


DOUBLE DIAMOND PUZZLE.
(LARGEST EVER MADE.)
ACROSS: I. A consonant. 2. A household god. 3.
Equaled. 4. Existing only in name. 5. Arched. 6.
Taken by robbery. 7. Luxurious food. 8. Conducted.
9. A consonant.
DowN: I. A consonant. 2. A spigot. 3. To imitate
for sport. 4. Pertaining to the side. 5. Filled to reple-
tion. 6. Told. 7. Fruit much used for food in Arabia.
S. A color. 9. A consonant. HYPERION.

CROSS-WORD ENIGMA.
MY first is in goblet, but not in cup;
My second is in drink, but not in sup;
My third is in whirl, but not in spin;
My fourth is in needle, but not in pin;
My fifth is in dunce, but not in fool;
My sixth is in rule, but not in school;
My seventh is in frolic, and also in fun;
My eighth in example, but not in sum;
My ninth is in woman, and also in man;
My tenth is in dish, but not in pan;
My eleventh is in even, but not in straight;
My twelfth is in door, but not in gate;
My thirteenth is in wasp, but not in bee;
My whole is what girls and boys ought to be.
L. G. M.
HIDDEN SQUARE.
I. Is Idaho merely a territory ? 2. This crop always is
a failure. 3. The comma I leave out frequently. 4. He
fell at his post bravely. J. P. B.


719


S
~







720 THE RIDDLE-BOX. [SEPTEMBER


ARCHITECTURAL PUZZLE.
(From one of these designs make each of the others.)


lN







I 1I












'III



--7











Dame. Philadelphia. 4. New Haven.
CHARADE, No. I.-Dumb-bell. PREFIX PUZZLE.-Prefx: "Trans."-Scribe, fur, form, figure, sit,
TRANSPOSITIONS (RIVERS).-r. Crime mar-Merrimac. 2 Home parent, plant, port, fuse, spire, mit, verse, pose.
-,,: ,-a .. N_ -('4 -











along an-Monongahela. 3. Nile-line. 4. Ripen-d-Dnrip-r 5. DOUBLE AcRosTic, No 2.-Round-robin.-(RolleR, OliO, UnaU,
Hounds-Hudson. 6. Oriel-Loire. 7. I miss .. 8. NipperkiN, DepenD, RobbeR, OkrO, BarB, Indrl, NapkiN.)
Heron-Rhone. 9. Them as-Thames, so. See in-Seine. SQUARE-WORD.- P EACH
HIDDEN BIRDS.-i. Heron. 2. Robin. 3. Turkey. 4. Wren. EAR LY
REBUs.-" Stand not upon the order of your going, AR MED
But go at once." C L I AR
BEHEADED RHYMEs.-Languish, anguish. Basking, asking. H YDRA
Fable, able. Lighted, lighted. DECAPITATIONS.-I. Stop, top. 2. Bold, old. 3 Said, aid. 4
ENIGMA -" Procrastination is the thief of time." Supper, upper 5. Scold, cold. 6. Meat, cat.
DIAMOND PUZZLE.- R CHARADE.-Anaximander.
SAP EASY ENIGMA.-Lemonade.
RAVEN TRANSPOSITIONS (CITIES).-I. Cannot-Canton. 2. Devonshire
PEN -hired ovens. 3. New York-key worn. 4. Tried to-Detroit. 5.
N Crop in ten Princeton. 6. Philip had ale-Philadelphia.
RIDDLE.-Olive (the tree, the fruit, and the name). THE EMIGRANT PUZZLE.-i. Shrouds (ropes from the mast to the
WORD-SQUARE.- TEPID side of the vessel). 2. Shades (or shadows). 3. Alas! (a lass). 4.
E LAT E A gull (bird). 5. Trunk. Chest. 7. Cover (of the chest). 8. Top
PATEN (of the chest). 9. Address (a dress). o. Buoy (boy). IN Hares
IT E M S (hares). 12. Calves. -3. Wraps, I :' : I" -F -' 14. .
D E N S and buckle (on trunk). 1- Stay ... -I 17- i
IS. Wings. 19. Foot. o2. Ears 2r. Lock (on the trunk). 22. Face
BEHEADED RIVERS.-r. Don. 2. Pruth. 3. Red. 4. Rhone. 5. and hands. 23. Guard (the outer rail). 24. Ocean (the letters of
Osage. 6. Nile. canoe" transposed). 2 Deck. 26. Tulips (two lips). 27. Box.
DOUBLE ACROSTIc, No. I.-Leopard, Panther. 28. Pears (pairs of boots and shoes). 29. Palm (the date tree'. 30.
L -am- P Steam (the letters of "mates transposed). 31. Ayes and noes (eyes
E -II- A and nose). 32. Lien (lean on a support). 33 Profiles (files-pro)
0 -di- N 34. Skye (sky). 35. Twelve feet. 36. Heal (heel) 37. Choler (col-
P -ar- T lar). 38. Railing. 39. Lap. 40. Cape. 4. Mouth and arm. 42.
A -la- H Foremen (four men). 43. A pipe (smoke-pipe). 44. Sole. 45. Hood.
R-escu-E 46. Boot. 47. Folds (on the woman's dress). 48. Crown (on the
D -ee- R man's hat).

ANswERs TO PUZZLES IN JULY NUMBER were received, previous to July 18, from Thomas P. Sanborn, Fannie S. Humphrey, "Grace
and Maddie," Josie R. Ingalls, Launcelot M. Berkeley, Nimpo," Chas. G. Rupert, S. Frankie Rupert, Minnie M. Tooker, Helen Reese,
Lilla M. Hallowell, Robt. NM. Reese, Charles Baldwin, Pearl," Edward H. Rudd, Reinette L. Ford, Willie L. Young, Frank H. Belknap,
Willie A. Lewis, Louella Palmer, Cora Mabel Wesley, Victor Grant Beebe, Annie Donaldson. Willie Dibblee, Alexandei Wiley, Mary H.
Wilson, Lillie Lester Woodbridge, Fred B. Crowell, Little Nell," Mamie L. Lane, and Alice Richards.